Introduction
CITY STREETS- You must have a character approved prior to posting. No exceptions.
The background: A cyberpunk RP based in the near future of 2043. The great 2012 fiasco came and went. Much like the Y2K scare, nothing much happened. The rich got richer the poor became destitute and the cost of wars and armies became too expensive for nations to bankroll anymore. It became easier to hire firms to fight these little actions all over the world. The Chinese finally toppled their communist system and became fully capitalist, spawn and new economic war as the Chinese realized they had the man power to out produce the rest of the world because of cheap labor.
The Soviet Union reformed, fell under terrorist attack and broke apart again. The main reason was the seizure of the vast oil fields in Siberia by the Chinese. The remnants of the soviet empire drifted and fell into fighting among themselves causing millions to flee into Western Europe as refugees. The Islamic Empire united in 2011 and after a long 3year struggle established it self as a world power with its capital in Babylon. The Islamic Empire tried a physical war against the West and failed miserably when the combined military might of the world crushed the 40 million man army that was threatening the south of Europe.
India and Pakistan waged a limited nuclear war in 2015 which caused the first of the global frosts covering the world in ash for 3 months. After that exchange other countries decided that they too could use weapons of mass destruction. Turkey and Israel and to a limited extent the Islamic Empire waged a limited nuclear war which brought the second global frost. This covered the world in nuclear ash and blocked the sun out for seven months. Nearly one billion people world wide died from the two nuclear frosts.
The western countries developed floating platforms in 2021 and quickly these platforms became the haven of the rich and elite. The Japanese during this time the perfect the humanoid robot. These robots were quickly developed and upgraded until they had almost a human appearance and intelligence.
The US felt that robotics were a stop gap measure and advanced their studies in biogenetics and cybernetic augmentation. In 2024 the first vat grown human was developed. A year later the first augmented human as shown to the world. Other Western countries such as the EU decided that they couldn’t keep pace with either the Japanese or US in their research decided to focus on cyber-linking man and machines. In 2028 the first Iron Horse was placed on line. Large fast hover tanks with a man inside who was linked through a node in his cerebral cortex and the computer brain of the machine. This led to the development of the Rocket jocks, sleek fast ram-jet aircraft similarly linked as the tanks.
Cities have sprawled across the world; crime is rampant and new designer drugs are flooding the city streets. The large floating cities where the elites live are protected by private armies of cyborgs and rocket boys. Huge corporate factories have massive city sized complexes where they have employees live and work. Data theft is rampant as corporations fight to corner their respective markets.
The Game starts in the sprawling city of the Bay Area Collective (BAC) floating about this vast peninsula collective is the city of San Francisco with its private army/police force of cyborgs and rocket jocks. The City has been the subject of series of raids by a clandestine group of terrorist who are raiding the food tanks and water tanks to give to the poorest people in BAC. The city of San Francisco has decided to hire mercenaries to crush this group called Freedom Against San Francisco. (FASA) This group is lead by a street priest but so far no one has been able to identify who this mysterious priest is.
Another attack has occurred on San Francisco and the city is responding with a crackdown on homeless people to “punish” those who stole from the city. There is violence on the streets as the cyborg troopers sweep through administering justice to anyone they “feel” has violated the law.
Occupations: The choices available to you. (All characters have to be sent to the GM and approved prior to posting)
Ghosts- mercenaries trained by the old armies of the world as special operatives. These lethal killers have limited enhancements. They specialize in wet works, and have connections that would shame any of the old world intelligence agencies. Highly paid, highly skilled. Occasionally they fight for their own reasons, accepting no money.
Zero-Gravity Martial Arts (ZEGRAV masters)- professional fighters who fight and train in zero-gravity cages in televised matches. They are the undisputed hand to hand combatants in the world. Think of this as pro wrestling personalities with the skill of UFC fighters, all in zero gravity. Celebrities they rely on their popularity to continue providing them income, once they fall out of favor with the fans, often becoming muscle for those who can afford them.
Street Priests- men and woman of faith who believe in this time, Armageddon has come and they have been left to save the souls of the non-believers and to punish the wicked if they have too. Often heavily armed and armored they search for the lost and bring them to the light.
Cyborg- men and woman who have sacrificed humanity and body parts to become sleek metal killing machines. The usual composition of body guards and private armies are made of cyborgs. They have weapons built into their frames and are capable in a firefight; however they tend to lose their sanity rapidly. They are massive, heavily armored living platforms of vast destructive power.
Data thieves- men and women who have sacrificed huge amounts of their memory to carry stored stolen data which they down load in the databanks of the highest bidders. These are the ultimate thieves, risking everything to break into massive vaults of corporations to steal their innermost secrets and sell them.
Iron horses- men and woman who have had neural attachments fused to their cerebral cortex to control the massive gravity-hover tanks they take their name from. They run covert missions for the highest bidder and smuggle anything and everything. They are a boastful and arrogant group when in their vehicles and with good reason. Impulse control of 60 ton vehicles moving at 200 mph is impressive.
Rocket Jocks- men and woman who have had neural attachments fused to their cerebral cortex to control the sleek fighter craft they take their name from. They provide private protection of the great floating cities. These are the most arrogant of people because they can do something only 12% of the population can do, fly the sleek ram-jet planes.
RULES:
1. We are here to have a good time. Remember that.
2. I hope you make your posts MORE THAN 1 sentence.
3. Please understand the dynamics of the world as I have presented it.
4. Relationships are always encouraged
5. Please NO GOD MODDING under any circumstances.
6. Understand your limits this world, I have detailed please follow them.
7. You all know the rules of the site, if you get banned, don't blame me
Character Template:
Name:
Sex:
Age:
Occupation:
Description: (more than just tight leather pants and jacket please)
Background: (the back ground has to be a product and some how related to the world history.)
Equipment: (all equipment must be approved by the GM prior to play)
Submit your character to me for approval if you want to participate.
The background: A cyberpunk RP based in the near future of 2043. The great 2012 fiasco came and went. Much like the Y2K scare, nothing much happened. The rich got richer the poor became destitute and the cost of wars and armies became too expensive for nations to bankroll anymore. It became easier to hire firms to fight these little actions all over the world. The Chinese finally toppled their communist system and became fully capitalist, spawn and new economic war as the Chinese realized they had the man power to out produce the rest of the world because of cheap labor.
The Soviet Union reformed, fell under terrorist attack and broke apart again. The main reason was the seizure of the vast oil fields in Siberia by the Chinese. The remnants of the soviet empire drifted and fell into fighting among themselves causing millions to flee into Western Europe as refugees. The Islamic Empire united in 2011 and after a long 3year struggle established it self as a world power with its capital in Babylon. The Islamic Empire tried a physical war against the West and failed miserably when the combined military might of the world crushed the 40 million man army that was threatening the south of Europe.
India and Pakistan waged a limited nuclear war in 2015 which caused the first of the global frosts covering the world in ash for 3 months. After that exchange other countries decided that they too could use weapons of mass destruction. Turkey and Israel and to a limited extent the Islamic Empire waged a limited nuclear war which brought the second global frost. This covered the world in nuclear ash and blocked the sun out for seven months. Nearly one billion people world wide died from the two nuclear frosts.
The western countries developed floating platforms in 2021 and quickly these platforms became the haven of the rich and elite. The Japanese during this time the perfect the humanoid robot. These robots were quickly developed and upgraded until they had almost a human appearance and intelligence.
The US felt that robotics were a stop gap measure and advanced their studies in biogenetics and cybernetic augmentation. In 2024 the first vat grown human was developed. A year later the first augmented human as shown to the world. Other Western countries such as the EU decided that they couldn’t keep pace with either the Japanese or US in their research decided to focus on cyber-linking man and machines. In 2028 the first Iron Horse was placed on line. Large fast hover tanks with a man inside who was linked through a node in his cerebral cortex and the computer brain of the machine. This led to the development of the Rocket jocks, sleek fast ram-jet aircraft similarly linked as the tanks.
Cities have sprawled across the world; crime is rampant and new designer drugs are flooding the city streets. The large floating cities where the elites live are protected by private armies of cyborgs and rocket boys. Huge corporate factories have massive city sized complexes where they have employees live and work. Data theft is rampant as corporations fight to corner their respective markets.
The Game starts in the sprawling city of the Bay Area Collective (BAC) floating about this vast peninsula collective is the city of San Francisco with its private army/police force of cyborgs and rocket jocks. The City has been the subject of series of raids by a clandestine group of terrorist who are raiding the food tanks and water tanks to give to the poorest people in BAC. The city of San Francisco has decided to hire mercenaries to crush this group called Freedom Against San Francisco. (FASA) This group is lead by a street priest but so far no one has been able to identify who this mysterious priest is.
Another attack has occurred on San Francisco and the city is responding with a crackdown on homeless people to “punish” those who stole from the city. There is violence on the streets as the cyborg troopers sweep through administering justice to anyone they “feel” has violated the law.
Occupations: The choices available to you. (All characters have to be sent to the GM and approved prior to posting)
Ghosts- mercenaries trained by the old armies of the world as special operatives. These lethal killers have limited enhancements. They specialize in wet works, and have connections that would shame any of the old world intelligence agencies. Highly paid, highly skilled. Occasionally they fight for their own reasons, accepting no money.
Zero-Gravity Martial Arts (ZEGRAV masters)- professional fighters who fight and train in zero-gravity cages in televised matches. They are the undisputed hand to hand combatants in the world. Think of this as pro wrestling personalities with the skill of UFC fighters, all in zero gravity. Celebrities they rely on their popularity to continue providing them income, once they fall out of favor with the fans, often becoming muscle for those who can afford them.
Street Priests- men and woman of faith who believe in this time, Armageddon has come and they have been left to save the souls of the non-believers and to punish the wicked if they have too. Often heavily armed and armored they search for the lost and bring them to the light.
Cyborg- men and woman who have sacrificed humanity and body parts to become sleek metal killing machines. The usual composition of body guards and private armies are made of cyborgs. They have weapons built into their frames and are capable in a firefight; however they tend to lose their sanity rapidly. They are massive, heavily armored living platforms of vast destructive power.
Data thieves- men and women who have sacrificed huge amounts of their memory to carry stored stolen data which they down load in the databanks of the highest bidders. These are the ultimate thieves, risking everything to break into massive vaults of corporations to steal their innermost secrets and sell them.
Iron horses- men and woman who have had neural attachments fused to their cerebral cortex to control the massive gravity-hover tanks they take their name from. They run covert missions for the highest bidder and smuggle anything and everything. They are a boastful and arrogant group when in their vehicles and with good reason. Impulse control of 60 ton vehicles moving at 200 mph is impressive.
Rocket Jocks- men and woman who have had neural attachments fused to their cerebral cortex to control the sleek fighter craft they take their name from. They provide private protection of the great floating cities. These are the most arrogant of people because they can do something only 12% of the population can do, fly the sleek ram-jet planes.
RULES:
1. We are here to have a good time. Remember that.
2. I hope you make your posts MORE THAN 1 sentence.
3. Please understand the dynamics of the world as I have presented it.
4. Relationships are always encouraged
5. Please NO GOD MODDING under any circumstances.
6. Understand your limits this world, I have detailed please follow them.
7. You all know the rules of the site, if you get banned, don't blame me
Character Template:
Name:
Sex:
Age:
Occupation:
Description: (more than just tight leather pants and jacket please)
Background: (the back ground has to be a product and some how related to the world history.)
Equipment: (all equipment must be approved by the GM prior to play)
Submit your character to me for approval if you want to participate.
- 5 posts here • Page 1 of 1
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 2 authors
Setting
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5:05 AM:
Erich stepped out of his large BMW M9 sedan. Glancing around the parking garage and slowly ran through his infrared settings to see if anyone was hidden. Satisfied that the area was clear he grabbed his attaché case and cane started walking towards the street. Erich loved this time of the year, Christmas was just around the corner and there would be a huge spike in jobs for the people that came to him for work after the New Year. He had heard over the viznet that the terrorists had hit the City again, making off with nearly 4 metric tons of food and medical supplies. The thought of an operation that sized was amazing, especially to do it with a cadre of cyborgs and air dales up there.
Erich chuckled imagining the face of Major Rice when she discovered that they had been hit again. That arrogant bitch never listened to him when he told her to upgrade the security systems, now she’d have to pay through the teeth for him to get some hard-charging experts up there.
Stepping out onto the street Erich heard the roar of a V/TOL overhead, looking up he saw a dull gray aircraft racing over the city headed toward the Treasure Island air base. As he turned to walk to the café he always had breakfast at he had an uneasy feeling he was being watched. Years of being in the field had given him a sense for things like this, someone was watching him. Erich stepped quickly into a doorway and surveyed the street and the rooftops. Every movement was a possible assassin. “God I hate fucking days like this” Erich swore under his breath as he felt for one of his pistosl, loosening it in the holster. He placed his cane against the wall lodging it in such a way that the door would be jammed if someone rushed him, hopefully giving him an extra moment or two. Checking his Cranberry PDA he looked to see if anyone he knew was in the area that owed him favor. “Hells Bells half this damn city owes me a favor” he snarled as he hit autodial praying that they would pick up their phone this early in the morning.
Erich waited as the phone rang. Looking out the glass door again and saw nothing, but he hadn't lived this long by ignoring his instincts. Glancing about he saw that trash and rubble filled the small hallway, the elevator doors down the hall were open and by the appearance they hadn't worked in some time. The graffiti tagged along the walls denoted some pop head street gang. The odor of urine and feces indicated that people probably used the upper floors for shelter.
Grabbing his cane and attaché he took the trash strewn stairs up to the second floor. On the landing he stopped, there was a girl sitting there at the top. She appeared to be asleep. Taking another step, then another toward her he flicked his heat imaging sensors in his Ikauss artificial eyes on. Nothing, not a damn thing, the body was as cold as the surrounding background. Snorting he spotted the needles and lighter laying near her leg as he passed her. "Damn pop heads wasting their lives for a fleeting escape." he murmured as he hung up and tried another number.
He found a room that looked out on the street, standing back in the shadows he tried to spot a place someone could be watching the building and door he had entered. Erich's mind was racing, analyzing his options. Mentally he went over all his ops in the field, about 80% had been successful, a few outstanding due to lack of experience on the assets part. No friendlies killed, no collateral damage. "Christ I haven't been in the field for six years now, I am a handler now what the hell." he muttered as he scanned the street again.
Erich scanned the street to see if he could spot anything that may have been a clue he had overlooked. As he did so his eyes scanned the corner he had turned and he froze a second. His mind racing there was someone there when he had turned the corner. "God damn it I am getting old." Erich swore as he scanned the streets again, "Damn it she probably was the eyes, to marking me when I came out of the garage. Good choice though, I never even took notice of her. Shite, now where is the shooter..." As he said that he spotted a nondescript looking man dropping down a fire escape on a building near the cafe he frequented. A cruel smile crossed Erich's thick lips as he grabbed his gear and headed out of the room and down the stairs.
Assassination is like playing cat and mouse, it is game of patience and the shooter was about to learn what happens when one loses patience.
Looking through the glass door quickly he saw the man making his way toward him, but he would have a second to slip from the door and move across the street before his target was aware of his presence. Opening the door and with no hesitation Erich cross the street and proceeded to walk towards then man, shifting the cane and attaché to one hand, Erich easily palmed his pistol and held it concealed between the attaché and cane. The man had been so focused on the door way across the street he failed to recognize Erich until they were mere feet apart. As he approached Erich he gave him a cursory glance, for a long slow moment it didn't register until he saw Erich's eyes. The burnished titanium Ikauss eyes were never popular; he realized that his target was hunting him. Struggling to draw his hand gun the man stopped. A mistake he would regret.
Erich stepped into the man, slamming the heavy titanium head into the man's stomach, as he did he placed his pistol into the space between the belly button and the pubic bone, two quick squeezes of the trigger and the man jolted upright. In one fluid motion Erich spun the man into a sitting potion on a pile of trash and continued walked, holstering his gun. Had anyone in the cafe been watching out the window at that time he would have seen the incident and possibly written it off as a drunken man accosting the man in the suit. Someone in the business would have seen two operatives meet and only one walk away.
Erich strode briskly to the cafe and entered it, scanning the room before making his way to his favorite table, where he could watch the door and windows. A slow breath escaped him as he sat. "My god I forgot how much of a rush it was..." he muttered motioning for a cup of coffee. “Now” Erich thought, “now I need to know who decided to package me, and why.”
Erich stepped out of his large BMW M9 sedan. Glancing around the parking garage and slowly ran through his infrared settings to see if anyone was hidden. Satisfied that the area was clear he grabbed his attaché case and cane started walking towards the street. Erich loved this time of the year, Christmas was just around the corner and there would be a huge spike in jobs for the people that came to him for work after the New Year. He had heard over the viznet that the terrorists had hit the City again, making off with nearly 4 metric tons of food and medical supplies. The thought of an operation that sized was amazing, especially to do it with a cadre of cyborgs and air dales up there.
Erich chuckled imagining the face of Major Rice when she discovered that they had been hit again. That arrogant bitch never listened to him when he told her to upgrade the security systems, now she’d have to pay through the teeth for him to get some hard-charging experts up there.
Stepping out onto the street Erich heard the roar of a V/TOL overhead, looking up he saw a dull gray aircraft racing over the city headed toward the Treasure Island air base. As he turned to walk to the café he always had breakfast at he had an uneasy feeling he was being watched. Years of being in the field had given him a sense for things like this, someone was watching him. Erich stepped quickly into a doorway and surveyed the street and the rooftops. Every movement was a possible assassin. “God I hate fucking days like this” Erich swore under his breath as he felt for one of his pistosl, loosening it in the holster. He placed his cane against the wall lodging it in such a way that the door would be jammed if someone rushed him, hopefully giving him an extra moment or two. Checking his Cranberry PDA he looked to see if anyone he knew was in the area that owed him favor. “Hells Bells half this damn city owes me a favor” he snarled as he hit autodial praying that they would pick up their phone this early in the morning.
Erich waited as the phone rang. Looking out the glass door again and saw nothing, but he hadn't lived this long by ignoring his instincts. Glancing about he saw that trash and rubble filled the small hallway, the elevator doors down the hall were open and by the appearance they hadn't worked in some time. The graffiti tagged along the walls denoted some pop head street gang. The odor of urine and feces indicated that people probably used the upper floors for shelter.
Grabbing his cane and attaché he took the trash strewn stairs up to the second floor. On the landing he stopped, there was a girl sitting there at the top. She appeared to be asleep. Taking another step, then another toward her he flicked his heat imaging sensors in his Ikauss artificial eyes on. Nothing, not a damn thing, the body was as cold as the surrounding background. Snorting he spotted the needles and lighter laying near her leg as he passed her. "Damn pop heads wasting their lives for a fleeting escape." he murmured as he hung up and tried another number.
He found a room that looked out on the street, standing back in the shadows he tried to spot a place someone could be watching the building and door he had entered. Erich's mind was racing, analyzing his options. Mentally he went over all his ops in the field, about 80% had been successful, a few outstanding due to lack of experience on the assets part. No friendlies killed, no collateral damage. "Christ I haven't been in the field for six years now, I am a handler now what the hell." he muttered as he scanned the street again.
Erich scanned the street to see if he could spot anything that may have been a clue he had overlooked. As he did so his eyes scanned the corner he had turned and he froze a second. His mind racing there was someone there when he had turned the corner. "God damn it I am getting old." Erich swore as he scanned the streets again, "Damn it she probably was the eyes, to marking me when I came out of the garage. Good choice though, I never even took notice of her. Shite, now where is the shooter..." As he said that he spotted a nondescript looking man dropping down a fire escape on a building near the cafe he frequented. A cruel smile crossed Erich's thick lips as he grabbed his gear and headed out of the room and down the stairs.
Assassination is like playing cat and mouse, it is game of patience and the shooter was about to learn what happens when one loses patience.
Looking through the glass door quickly he saw the man making his way toward him, but he would have a second to slip from the door and move across the street before his target was aware of his presence. Opening the door and with no hesitation Erich cross the street and proceeded to walk towards then man, shifting the cane and attaché to one hand, Erich easily palmed his pistol and held it concealed between the attaché and cane. The man had been so focused on the door way across the street he failed to recognize Erich until they were mere feet apart. As he approached Erich he gave him a cursory glance, for a long slow moment it didn't register until he saw Erich's eyes. The burnished titanium Ikauss eyes were never popular; he realized that his target was hunting him. Struggling to draw his hand gun the man stopped. A mistake he would regret.
Erich stepped into the man, slamming the heavy titanium head into the man's stomach, as he did he placed his pistol into the space between the belly button and the pubic bone, two quick squeezes of the trigger and the man jolted upright. In one fluid motion Erich spun the man into a sitting potion on a pile of trash and continued walked, holstering his gun. Had anyone in the cafe been watching out the window at that time he would have seen the incident and possibly written it off as a drunken man accosting the man in the suit. Someone in the business would have seen two operatives meet and only one walk away.
Erich strode briskly to the cafe and entered it, scanning the room before making his way to his favorite table, where he could watch the door and windows. A slow breath escaped him as he sat. "My god I forgot how much of a rush it was..." he muttered motioning for a cup of coffee. “Now” Erich thought, “now I need to know who decided to package me, and why.”
Setting
0.00 INK
Erich sighed as he checked the digitals. There seemed to be nothing. He scanned all the obvious places a coded message would be left. Nothing, there was not a damn thing anywhere. A cold iciness gripped him. “Well Erich my boy, looks like someone has taken a dislike to you, but why?” Glancing outside he stared at the body of the assassin he had killed. The face was Asian, Chinese or Japanese for sure. Even in their brief exchange he knew the man was skilled, he could feel the muscles tense the proper way, the way an operatives muscles moved.
The fact that Erich had more experience is all that saved his life, but would that be enough next time? Next time! Shaking his head he eased back into the chair, his burnished metal eyes scanned the people in the café. The regulars, no one new, nothing out of place and yet he felt a queasiness creep upon him. Brushing his hand across the polymer butt of his weapon gave him some comfort. Someone had targeted him, someone who was not afraid of what he could do. Glancing at the digitals again his gaze fell upon an article that quickly drew his full attention. Antonio Wanabe, was murdered last night. Found dead in his suite, shot twice in the back of the head. Grimacing Erich knew now what the connection was. Wanabe was one of his clients, a man who used talent to fix problems that he couldn’t solve any other way. That he was connected to the Japanese government and could sway local businessmen and politians to agree to certain positions beneficial to Japan was often over looked.
Putting down the reader, Erich sipped his cold coffee, someone wanted Tony dead and somehow it came back on him. Glancing out the window again, his eyes fell on the dead agent. Erich would need help in this, but who could he trust? Clearly the fact that he was marked made him dangerous to know, and it probably spread already that he was burned. No one would help him, at least not openly, and even then it would be iffy. Twirling his phone a moment he realized he had to find the killer himself and deal with this. Dropping a fifty on the table he waved at the girl behind the counter and stepped outside. The roar of jets high over head filled the air. The pounding rumble of an iron horse a few streets over brought a slight smile to his lips. “Well if they want war, they got it.” He murmured as he made his way down the street, away from his car and the garage it was in. It would be a long trek back to his office, but he didn’t mind. At least here he had some room to move, room to think like a field agent again.
The fact that Erich had more experience is all that saved his life, but would that be enough next time? Next time! Shaking his head he eased back into the chair, his burnished metal eyes scanned the people in the café. The regulars, no one new, nothing out of place and yet he felt a queasiness creep upon him. Brushing his hand across the polymer butt of his weapon gave him some comfort. Someone had targeted him, someone who was not afraid of what he could do. Glancing at the digitals again his gaze fell upon an article that quickly drew his full attention. Antonio Wanabe, was murdered last night. Found dead in his suite, shot twice in the back of the head. Grimacing Erich knew now what the connection was. Wanabe was one of his clients, a man who used talent to fix problems that he couldn’t solve any other way. That he was connected to the Japanese government and could sway local businessmen and politians to agree to certain positions beneficial to Japan was often over looked.
Putting down the reader, Erich sipped his cold coffee, someone wanted Tony dead and somehow it came back on him. Glancing out the window again, his eyes fell on the dead agent. Erich would need help in this, but who could he trust? Clearly the fact that he was marked made him dangerous to know, and it probably spread already that he was burned. No one would help him, at least not openly, and even then it would be iffy. Twirling his phone a moment he realized he had to find the killer himself and deal with this. Dropping a fifty on the table he waved at the girl behind the counter and stepped outside. The roar of jets high over head filled the air. The pounding rumble of an iron horse a few streets over brought a slight smile to his lips. “Well if they want war, they got it.” He murmured as he made his way down the street, away from his car and the garage it was in. It would be a long trek back to his office, but he didn’t mind. At least here he had some room to move, room to think like a field agent again.
The setting changes from Bay Area Collective to The Church of All Worlds
Trayus Cleveland lolled about, testing the new features.
The setting changes from The Church of All Worlds to The Colosseum
Setting
0.00 INK
When Jeremy Savage hit the ground, the entire world leaped to its feet.
The Colosseum seemed to split open with a storm of human exuberance. 'Thunder' roared in the form of shrieks, cheers, whistles and just general noise; 'lightning' forked in camera flashes, and ceiling-mounted strobes. It was such a pure wall of humanity that any android in the building might well have felt a tremor in their processors.
It was beyond just San Fransisco, too, this happy chaos. Home units all across America, across the world were electrocuted with outrage, joy, some shared feeling of adrenaline. Fists pumped in the air and fingers pointed at screens. "Look! Down in six minutes! That's gotta be a new record! Did you see his head snap back? Ha! Oh - yeah. I also hope he's okay .. "
A high, distinctive whine suddenly added to the clamor. The ZEGRAV generators were powering down, signifying the end of the match. As they did so, the sky-engine rumble of the spectators seemed to grow, grow, grow even more. The catalyst of uncertainty had been added to the fervor. "Hang on. Did he hit him all that hard? That can't have been a KO hit, was it? What does the strip say? What's the strip say?"
Each ZEGRAV fighter that stepped into the ring had a strip of medical tape - (no larger than a stamp) - applied just above their heart. It was chock full of delicate sensors that fed a relay to the ZMED station, and then up to the Big Eye screens for the crowds around and abroad to see. Blood pressure. Heart rate. Other vital signs. If anyone was ever in a doubt about a call, all they had to do was look at the bottom of the screen where the numbers were. The screaming reached a fever pitch. Jeremy 'Savvo' had indeed been KOed.
Those precious digits never lied, and held a key role in determining the winner of a ZEGRAV match. Once a fighter's vital signs dipped below a certain count, the generators automatically began to power down. That meant KO strikes had to count. Jeremy Savage had lasted a total of six minutes in the cage before taking a devastating kick, and slamming into the mat. His strip had started flashing, and the crowds had started shrieking.
And in the middle of it all, in the eye of this delirious gale, Tre Cleveland looked lost and confused.
The soles of his feet finally reached the padded floor. Tre felt his stomach lurch as his body weight was suddenly his own again. It was ironic - being in the grasp of gravity gave him more butterflies than spinning freely through the air. The young man unzipped his gloves and removed his mouth guard. His expression remained curiously controlled. To be honest, he wasn't quite sure what had happened.
Oh, he could hear the announcer blaring away - he saw the medical droids pouring out on the mat - he even looked up, and caught a glitzy, gritty replay of his KO shot on the Big Eye .. but something didn't feel right. It was the sort of 'something' that only he himself would understand. As he watched the angles of his sloppily executed kick, that something finally formed itself into words.
I didn't hit him that hard.
All video feed was now on Tre, now. The world held its breath and waited for a reaction from their hero, and that hero wasn't sure how to deliver. He felt the slightest tick of worry, but knew the consequences of letting it show. His face was being broadcast to millions of people right this second. He swallowed, the tick suddenly vanished - aha! There was the smile, and that two-finger gesture to the center of his forehead. Everyone loves Trayus.
A few medical droids swung around to him, now. Though he insisted he was fine, they sat him down with soothing voices, and began to fuss over his bruises and bumps with their cold metal fingers. He lost sight of Jeremy as his own wounds were cleaned and dressed.
The announced continued to blather on - telling people what they already knew. Fastest KO speed in the history of the sport. Tre as a rising star, an exemplary fighter. Dimly, the youth waited for some news on Savvo, wondering if he was okay ..
"You did it, kid!" An oily voice trickled in past the droids, past the screams. It was Lars McDermit, Tre's handler. There were still cool mechanized arms in Tre's field of vision. He could only see the shoulder of Lars' pin-striped suit. "Nice job, way to clean things up. That'll shut up the talk of Savvo taking home that final title this season, eh?"
Something clapped him hard on the shoulder - Tre assumed that would have been Lars. The droids fell back and all tilted their sleek heads to the side at once, blinking synthetic eyes. They appeared pleased with their handiwork, and buzzed away.
"Where's Savvo?" Tre asked his handler.
The man cupped a hand around his ear. It was an animated performance - Tre knew that even though the crowds were still raging, Lars had heard him. "What was that, kid?"
"Nothing."
His night was far from over. Tre stood. He felt a bit unsteady, but it cleared. Lars kept a hand on the man's shoulder. They stood before the cameras and the crowds. Trayus does it again! When will the winning streak end?
Tre squinted up at the box seats, high above the arena. There was one set of windows he was particularly interested in - a set that belonged to a certain Sydney Velour. He was one of Tre's many sponsors (the others were sometimes not quite so forward in revealing their identities) and a hefty patron to the entire sport of ZEGRAV combat. No doubt the tall, slender man would be standing with his hands clasped behind his back, nodding down his nose - proud not of what his star had done, but what his money had been able to buy him.
The youth licked some blood from a cut on his lip, just as a mob of cheering fans swept him away. Oh - that tick had to have one last romp before it would drown itself at the afterparty.
I didn't hit him that hard ..
The Colosseum seemed to split open with a storm of human exuberance. 'Thunder' roared in the form of shrieks, cheers, whistles and just general noise; 'lightning' forked in camera flashes, and ceiling-mounted strobes. It was such a pure wall of humanity that any android in the building might well have felt a tremor in their processors.
It was beyond just San Fransisco, too, this happy chaos. Home units all across America, across the world were electrocuted with outrage, joy, some shared feeling of adrenaline. Fists pumped in the air and fingers pointed at screens. "Look! Down in six minutes! That's gotta be a new record! Did you see his head snap back? Ha! Oh - yeah. I also hope he's okay .. "
A high, distinctive whine suddenly added to the clamor. The ZEGRAV generators were powering down, signifying the end of the match. As they did so, the sky-engine rumble of the spectators seemed to grow, grow, grow even more. The catalyst of uncertainty had been added to the fervor. "Hang on. Did he hit him all that hard? That can't have been a KO hit, was it? What does the strip say? What's the strip say?"
Each ZEGRAV fighter that stepped into the ring had a strip of medical tape - (no larger than a stamp) - applied just above their heart. It was chock full of delicate sensors that fed a relay to the ZMED station, and then up to the Big Eye screens for the crowds around and abroad to see. Blood pressure. Heart rate. Other vital signs. If anyone was ever in a doubt about a call, all they had to do was look at the bottom of the screen where the numbers were. The screaming reached a fever pitch. Jeremy 'Savvo' had indeed been KOed.
Those precious digits never lied, and held a key role in determining the winner of a ZEGRAV match. Once a fighter's vital signs dipped below a certain count, the generators automatically began to power down. That meant KO strikes had to count. Jeremy Savage had lasted a total of six minutes in the cage before taking a devastating kick, and slamming into the mat. His strip had started flashing, and the crowds had started shrieking.
And in the middle of it all, in the eye of this delirious gale, Tre Cleveland looked lost and confused.
The soles of his feet finally reached the padded floor. Tre felt his stomach lurch as his body weight was suddenly his own again. It was ironic - being in the grasp of gravity gave him more butterflies than spinning freely through the air. The young man unzipped his gloves and removed his mouth guard. His expression remained curiously controlled. To be honest, he wasn't quite sure what had happened.
Oh, he could hear the announcer blaring away - he saw the medical droids pouring out on the mat - he even looked up, and caught a glitzy, gritty replay of his KO shot on the Big Eye .. but something didn't feel right. It was the sort of 'something' that only he himself would understand. As he watched the angles of his sloppily executed kick, that something finally formed itself into words.
I didn't hit him that hard.
All video feed was now on Tre, now. The world held its breath and waited for a reaction from their hero, and that hero wasn't sure how to deliver. He felt the slightest tick of worry, but knew the consequences of letting it show. His face was being broadcast to millions of people right this second. He swallowed, the tick suddenly vanished - aha! There was the smile, and that two-finger gesture to the center of his forehead. Everyone loves Trayus.
A few medical droids swung around to him, now. Though he insisted he was fine, they sat him down with soothing voices, and began to fuss over his bruises and bumps with their cold metal fingers. He lost sight of Jeremy as his own wounds were cleaned and dressed.
The announced continued to blather on - telling people what they already knew. Fastest KO speed in the history of the sport. Tre as a rising star, an exemplary fighter. Dimly, the youth waited for some news on Savvo, wondering if he was okay ..
"You did it, kid!" An oily voice trickled in past the droids, past the screams. It was Lars McDermit, Tre's handler. There were still cool mechanized arms in Tre's field of vision. He could only see the shoulder of Lars' pin-striped suit. "Nice job, way to clean things up. That'll shut up the talk of Savvo taking home that final title this season, eh?"
Something clapped him hard on the shoulder - Tre assumed that would have been Lars. The droids fell back and all tilted their sleek heads to the side at once, blinking synthetic eyes. They appeared pleased with their handiwork, and buzzed away.
"Where's Savvo?" Tre asked his handler.
The man cupped a hand around his ear. It was an animated performance - Tre knew that even though the crowds were still raging, Lars had heard him. "What was that, kid?"
"Nothing."
His night was far from over. Tre stood. He felt a bit unsteady, but it cleared. Lars kept a hand on the man's shoulder. They stood before the cameras and the crowds. Trayus does it again! When will the winning streak end?
Tre squinted up at the box seats, high above the arena. There was one set of windows he was particularly interested in - a set that belonged to a certain Sydney Velour. He was one of Tre's many sponsors (the others were sometimes not quite so forward in revealing their identities) and a hefty patron to the entire sport of ZEGRAV combat. No doubt the tall, slender man would be standing with his hands clasped behind his back, nodding down his nose - proud not of what his star had done, but what his money had been able to buy him.
The youth licked some blood from a cut on his lip, just as a mob of cheering fans swept him away. Oh - that tick had to have one last romp before it would drown itself at the afterparty.
I didn't hit him that hard ..
The setting changes from The Colosseum to The Streets
Setting
0.00 INK
Erich snarled as he spun around and faced the floating computer screen, his burnished metal eyes reflecting the dull glow. It had been a helluva day, and it was only nine in the morning. Scanning the personal and want ads he wrote down a series of notes on a flat pad, each note was attached to the parent article. So far the chatter across the BAC, hell across the world was quite and that frightened him. After an hour of activity he eased back and punched up the normal news, scanning them he made notes of the local events as well. Finally he came to the sports page; it seemed some kid had won last night in the coliseum. Reading the article then taping the vid Erich watched the entire ZEGRAV match. “Six-minutes, not bad.” He whistled as he rechecked the fighters, Trayus Cleveland, good looking fighter, although it didn’t look like an incredibly hard blow to the other fighter. Replaying the vid again, Erich pursed his lips, slowing down the frames where the blow took place; he stopped the exact moment the kick landed.
Sitting back Erich put his finger tips together in a pyramid, it seemed to be a normal kick, and it didn’t look hard enough to cause the other fighter to lose. Tabbing the story he filed it away and glanced out the heavy shielded windows of his office. The rumble of an iron horse could be heard, followed by another. Checking the time, Erich glanced back towards the ‘yards’ where the heavy grav-tanks of the local chapter of mercenaries kept them. The high pitched whine filled the air as the turbines whirred to life, tapping his desk the sound damping filters clicked on dulling the throbbing noise. The life in the BAC was always interesting the streets were always dangerous, people doing what they needed to in order to survive. Stretching Erich stood and looked out the window again towards what was once San Francisco. It had been a few seconds before he took notice of a glimmer of light on a roof top opposite him. Instinctively he tapped the window and a screening system went up, distorting and obfuscating the interior of the room. Moving quickly Erich stepped to a pair of naval military grade spotting binoculars he used occasionally to scan the city.
After a moment a soft growl escaped his lips, it was a sniper team setting up about a quarter mile away. Shaking his head the tall man sat down heavily and rubbed his forehead, granted it might be a hit on someone else, but based on the data he had already it was safe to assume it was for him. Spinning the chair around he checked is messages, none of them indicated anything amiss. None of his “ears” had heard anything, and it seemed all his contracts were still in play. This was personal then, someone was gunning for him on a personal level. Shaking his head Erich slid down in the chair a bit, he hadn’t been in the field for several years now; he was just a broker, connecting talent and buyers taking a cool 33% on the deals.
Standing he glanced through the spotting glasses again, the team finished their prep, they were now waiting. Shaking his head Erich picked up a small remote, he checked the building again before powering the remote up. As he did he watched the sniper team look around slowly then in a more frenetic pace. Erich pressed a button, a millisecond later the roof of the building where the snipers where erupted in a blossoming plume of red-orange flame. Continuing to watch the burning building he observed one of the team fall from the building, a human comet racing towards the dingy streets below. A grim smile crossed his lips as he moved towards the small bar, pulling out a glass, some synthetic freeze cubes and a bottle of 40-year old scotch. After the sip slid down his throat, Erich sat down again and began going over the contracts he had. It was going to be an interesting day. Someone may be trying to kill him, but business was business and he had to make sure his clients were taken care of .
Sitting back Erich put his finger tips together in a pyramid, it seemed to be a normal kick, and it didn’t look hard enough to cause the other fighter to lose. Tabbing the story he filed it away and glanced out the heavy shielded windows of his office. The rumble of an iron horse could be heard, followed by another. Checking the time, Erich glanced back towards the ‘yards’ where the heavy grav-tanks of the local chapter of mercenaries kept them. The high pitched whine filled the air as the turbines whirred to life, tapping his desk the sound damping filters clicked on dulling the throbbing noise. The life in the BAC was always interesting the streets were always dangerous, people doing what they needed to in order to survive. Stretching Erich stood and looked out the window again towards what was once San Francisco. It had been a few seconds before he took notice of a glimmer of light on a roof top opposite him. Instinctively he tapped the window and a screening system went up, distorting and obfuscating the interior of the room. Moving quickly Erich stepped to a pair of naval military grade spotting binoculars he used occasionally to scan the city.
After a moment a soft growl escaped his lips, it was a sniper team setting up about a quarter mile away. Shaking his head the tall man sat down heavily and rubbed his forehead, granted it might be a hit on someone else, but based on the data he had already it was safe to assume it was for him. Spinning the chair around he checked is messages, none of them indicated anything amiss. None of his “ears” had heard anything, and it seemed all his contracts were still in play. This was personal then, someone was gunning for him on a personal level. Shaking his head Erich slid down in the chair a bit, he hadn’t been in the field for several years now; he was just a broker, connecting talent and buyers taking a cool 33% on the deals.
Standing he glanced through the spotting glasses again, the team finished their prep, they were now waiting. Shaking his head Erich picked up a small remote, he checked the building again before powering the remote up. As he did he watched the sniper team look around slowly then in a more frenetic pace. Erich pressed a button, a millisecond later the roof of the building where the snipers where erupted in a blossoming plume of red-orange flame. Continuing to watch the burning building he observed one of the team fall from the building, a human comet racing towards the dingy streets below. A grim smile crossed his lips as he moved towards the small bar, pulling out a glass, some synthetic freeze cubes and a bottle of 40-year old scotch. After the sip slid down his throat, Erich sat down again and began going over the contracts he had. It was going to be an interesting day. Someone may be trying to kill him, but business was business and he had to make sure his clients were taken care of .
- 5 posts here • Page 1 of 1
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View All » Add Character » 9 Characters to follow in this universe
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Amaya "Ami" KOBAYASHI
Sweet innocent girl on the outside-cold, calm, dangerous Ghost inside.
Jax Kokenji
An ingrained, talented Data Theif with a smooth tongue and a sarcastic attitude.
Erich Saagan
A mysterous man dressed to the nines and armed to the teeth.
Trending
Jax Kokenji
An ingrained, talented Data Theif with a smooth tongue and a sarcastic attitude.
Amaya "Ami" KOBAYASHI
Sweet innocent girl on the outside-cold, calm, dangerous Ghost inside.
Erich Saagan
A mysterous man dressed to the nines and armed to the teeth.
Most Followed
Erich Saagan
A mysterous man dressed to the nines and armed to the teeth.
Jax Kokenji
An ingrained, talented Data Theif with a smooth tongue and a sarcastic attitude.
Amaya "Ami" KOBAYASHI
Sweet innocent girl on the outside-cold, calm, dangerous Ghost inside.
View All » Places
1 posts · 0 characters present · last post 2010-04-09 16:16:16 »
The Streets Owner: RolePlayGateway
The Streets- vast interconnected roads and streets that connect the various locations together. It is here that a majority of action takes place between locations.
1 posts · 1 characters present · last post 2010-03-10 00:24:32 »
The City ↪ The Colosseum Owner: RolePlayGateway
The premium ZEGRAV arena located in the City. Only the wealthy can afford tickets, while the exciting fights are broadcast to the masses to appease them.
1 posts · 2 characters present · last post 2010-03-07 14:49:19 »
Bay Area Collective ↪ The Church of All Worlds Owner: RolePlayGateway
A shelter on the streets where one can find sanctuary and salvation.
2 posts · 2 characters present · last post 2010-03-03 04:01:49 »
The Bay Area Collective (BAC) floating about this vast peninsula collective is the city of San Francisco with its private army/police force of cyborgs and rocket jocks.
0 posts · 1 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
The City Owner: RolePlayGateway
The Great Floating City of San Francisco- corrupt and bloated on the labor of the groundlings far below.
0 posts · 0 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
Bay Area Collective ↪ The Harstatt Medical Clinic Owner: RolePlayGateway
A medical clinic started by combat medics who realized that war fighters and victims need a place to get treatment.
0 posts · 1 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
Bay Area Collective ↪ The Power Bomb Owner: RolePlayGateway
A popular bar for the more shady crowd where anything and everything can be bought for a price.
0 posts · 2 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
Bay Area Collective ↪ Prision Sex Owner: RolePlayGateway
A nightclub reminiscent of Studio 54 or any other large sprawling club where thousands of people mix and mingle. Rich and poor, beautiful or not, sinner or saint, all are found here.
0 posts · 0 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
Bay Area Collective ↪ The Merchant Shop Owner: RolePlayGateway
An obscure weapons trading shop nestled in the Niles District of what used to be Fremont. Weapons and upgrades can be obtained here for a price.
Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » City Streets: Out of Character
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City Streets
by Skallagrim on Tue Feb 23, 2010 5:22 pm
- 11 Replies
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- Last post by ViceVersus
on Tue Mar 09, 2010 6:59 pm
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City Streets
Most recent OOC posts in City Streets
Re: [OOC] City Streets
This looks like a ton of fun. Expect me to send you a PM with my character tomorrow. =]
Re: [OOC] City Streets
Skally - can you make an arena for the ZEGRAV fighters? A big central place - maybe a part of 'The City' but where I can start my post off, officially? Doesn't have to be anything fancy or all that specific, I was planning on seeing where my imagination took me on this intro post.
Re: [OOC] City Streets
I am pretty sure you cannot create a place in the role-play only the RP owner can. What kind of place are you looking for? Is it possible that it can fit into one of the other areas? If not why? Depending on what it is you want I may build it into the rp world.
Skall
Skall
Re: [OOC] City Streets
I have a question: how do I create a place? I can't find the button anywhere...sorry, this is basically the first roleplay I've ever joined on this website, and I can't find the answers to it on the FAQ.
-strawberriceream
-strawberriceream
Re: [OOC] City Streets
Well there is no specific list of skills for each class. I would rather let the players expand their imagination. For instance the Ghosts are mostly what military trained special forces operators learn for field work.
For the other classes it is merely a common sense approach. For instance I doubt a Data Thief would be heavily trained in weapons but have a large amount of tech based skills for hacking into systems. Cyborgs would of course be military types with nano-carbon and titanium bodies. ZEGRAV fighters should have martial arts skills. And Street Priests would have to be somehow linked to a religion real or imagined to spread the word to lost flocks cast out of heaven (They see the floating cities as Heaven for the most part).
I hope that helps, if there is a desire to build a certain character send me the mark up and we can come up with something.
Skall
For the other classes it is merely a common sense approach. For instance I doubt a Data Thief would be heavily trained in weapons but have a large amount of tech based skills for hacking into systems. Cyborgs would of course be military types with nano-carbon and titanium bodies. ZEGRAV fighters should have martial arts skills. And Street Priests would have to be somehow linked to a religion real or imagined to spread the word to lost flocks cast out of heaven (They see the floating cities as Heaven for the most part).
I hope that helps, if there is a desire to build a certain character send me the mark up and we can come up with something.
Skall
Re: [OOC] City Streets
Skall,
I noticed in the description you posted for the Erich Saagan character that provided a list of "Ghost specific skills" that he was proficient in. Is there a list of class specific skills that would correspond to the classes for which posted descriptions in the initial post for the RP? I've never gamed in a cyberpunk style setting and I'm betting there may well be a couple other interested gamers out there who find themselves in the situation of liking what they've read about the setting but not being quite sure what to have in mind in terms of putting together a character that would work well within it both from a playing as well as a writing standpoint.
On the other hand if choosing and identifying specific skills from a list is not necessary, I'll simply see about putting a character together for your comment and approval.
Thanks,
- Whysper
I noticed in the description you posted for the Erich Saagan character that provided a list of "Ghost specific skills" that he was proficient in. Is there a list of class specific skills that would correspond to the classes for which posted descriptions in the initial post for the RP? I've never gamed in a cyberpunk style setting and I'm betting there may well be a couple other interested gamers out there who find themselves in the situation of liking what they've read about the setting but not being quite sure what to have in mind in terms of putting together a character that would work well within it both from a playing as well as a writing standpoint.
On the other hand if choosing and identifying specific skills from a list is not necessary, I'll simply see about putting a character together for your comment and approval.
Thanks,
- Whysper
Re: [OOC] City Streets
I have started the meta story, please feel free to join in. If you have questions feel free to ask and I will explain it as best as I can.
Skall
Skall
[OOC] City Streets
This is the auto-generated OOC topic for the roleplay "City Streets"
If you are interested in this role-play send me a character and the idea behind the character.
Skall
If you are interested in this role-play send me a character and the idea behind the character.
Skall