Set just after the events in Bioshock 2, the Little Sisters are now next to none, with the whole of Rapture devolving into gangs, all struggling for dominance and ADAM. Splicing has taken a new turn, as the denizens invent new plasmids and tonics in their desperation.
Big Sisters still lurk, their motivations unknown, and the Big Daddies aren't as numerous as they were before.
A man, who calls himself the 'Candy Man' has been sending out radio signals on certain frequencies, to those who would listen. Here, you could say, is where our story begins...
Take the role of one of the denizens of Rapture, as a group of them are brought together to survive! Will they escape to the surface, or claim Rapture as their own?
His character is a clue-giver entity, similar to Atlas.
//A few generic notes and rules, gathered from the interest check forum: bioshock-t37588-40.html
Applications closed until further notice.
When submitting your character, post it in the OOC first, and then submit via the character tab. As there's no real moderator/GM, application functions by general consensus. In other words, if no one has any issues with your character, it'll be approved. Give it about a day for everyone to look at your character.
1: No God mode-ing, which applies everywhere really, and that means no 'My character adversely harms your character' posts. 'My character attempts to adversely harm your character' posts are good ones.
Feel free to create a plasmid/tonic of your own - but if they're ludicrously powerful it will be considered God mode-ing. Suggestion: If you want a really powerful plasmid, create a very bad side effect to counter it!
2: Any type of character that can be found in Rapture is playable (Splicers, Big Daddies, Big Sisters etc), but keep things sensible! Don't go creating a god-like character with supreme powers without a flaw! Ultimately, these kind of characters can get boring, and don't really contribute to the RP as they can do everything. Think of your fellow players; they want to have fun too!
*** A note on the Big Daddy characters: They should be incapable of speech, and should communicate via alternate means. Big daddies can resist *Hypnotize big daddy* if they have good willpower, though they will have mild mental strain for a short while. *Hypnotize big daddy +* can be resisted only to a short extent.
4: If you have too many gene tonics and plasmids, you become crazed. The more splicing, the more crazed.
5: Use only low caliber weapons while in the bridges connecting buildings. shotguns, launchers, trap bolts, and the sonic boom plasmid are a no go in there. It's only glass after all.
6: Combat functions by every player taking turns to create an 'encounter' where appropriate; meaning it's up to one player to set up what they are fighting. Then the other players will decide how it turns out. Remember about God mode-ing!
7: Not a rule, but a suggestion: Limiting IC posts to about 1-2 per day. It's so all the players would have the chance to participate (different lifestyles, timezones, work obligations, etc). If a player doesn't post within 24 hours, then their 'turn' is forfeited, and other people can continue posting.
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These poor, unfortunate souls were once a part of this great world, but have been abandoned. Why don't you consider viewing their profiles and making a decision on whether or not you can roleplay them accurately?
"Hey, fight fair!" James said mockingly. Just then the splicer was going to try the risky mode of gun-butting him. As the splicer approached James, he swung the machete cutting through his stomach making all the guts come out rapidly.
Just then the incoming splicers stopped. Complete silence. No more splicers, no more battle. James looked around making sure he wouldn't get jumped by something else coming his way.
James looked at the Big Daddy that was in the fight. "Friend or foe?" James asked the group.
As the fight died down, Epsilon began to use his machine gun more as the splicers fled, opening them selves up to the heavy fire shooting out of his right arm. Eventually every thing was quiet and the only noise was Epsilon's guns whirring down. When the question was asked, "friend or foe?", Epsilon was not sure how to respond. They could be his foes but they had aided him in fighting off the splicer horde. They could be possible friends, but he did not know their motives. He turned to take them in, his soft white light from his porthole casting a haze of light over the group before him. Unlike Big Daddies, the Defiant class of Protectors had not been given color coded light-emitting goo in their suits but a one that gave off a steady stream of white light used to navigate the darker parts of the surrounding sea floor.
"I. Do not. Know. Perhaps. Niether," a piece meal voice collabertion of various archived radio broadcasts and tapes played over the local P.A. system.
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