Announcements: Cutting Costs (2024) » January 2024 Copyfraud Attack » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Member Shoutout Thread » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newcomers » RPG Chat — the official app » Frequently Asked Questions » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Adapa Adapa's for adapa » To the Rich Men North of Richmond » Shake Senora » Good Morning RPG! » Ramblings of a Madman: American History Unkempt » Site Revitalization » Map Making Resources » Lost Poetry » Wishes » Ring of Invisibility » Seeking Roleplayer for Rumple/Mr. Gold from Once Upon a Time » Some political parody for these trying times » What dinosaur are you? » So, I have an Etsy » Train Poetry I » Joker » D&D Alignment Chart: How To Get A Theorem Named After You » Dungeon23 : Creative Challenge » Returning User - Is it dead? » Twelve Days of Christmas »

Players Wanted: Long-term fantasy roleplay partners wanted » Serious Anime Crossover Roleplay (semi-literate) » Looking for a long term partner! » JoJo or Mha roleplay » Seeking long-term rp partners for MxM » [MxF] Ruining Beauty / Beauty x Bastard » Minecraft Rp Help Wanted » CALL FOR WITNESSES: The Public v Zosimos » Social Immortal: A Vampire Only Soiree [The Multiverse] » XENOMORPH EDM TOUR Feat. Synthe Gridd: Get Your Tickets! » Aishna: Tower of Desire » Looking for fellow RPGers/Characters » looking for a RP partner (ABO/BL) » Looking for a long term roleplay partner » Explore the World of Boruto with Our Roleplaying Group on FB » More Jedi, Sith, and Imperials needed! » Role-player's Wanted » OSR Armchair Warrior looking for Kin » Friday the 13th Fun, Anyone? » Writers Wanted! »

0
followers
follow

Sam Ballinger

"Something you need to know? I can find out for you... For a price..."

0 · 235 views · located in College Building 34 (aka The Freedom House)

a character in “Freedom Has a Stiff Price...”, originally authored by AgelasticBoy9, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4079/4902 ... afa7e4.jpg <Picture

Name: Sam Ballinger

Age: 18

Gender: Male

Personality: Laid back, sarcastic, generally very calm.

Job: Roadie for a band called Madison Way (Includes carrying and moving instruments and equipment, running the sound board, setting up gear on stage, and tuning instruments).

Campus Status: The intel guy.

Theme Song: (Mean Spirits - Silversun Pickups) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DfjandmfFKw

Weapons: Machete, One Smith & Wesson .9mm pistol.

Personality

Sam is generally very soft-spoken. If he has a problem with someone or something, he won't often speak up about it until it becomes hazardous to himself or others. He is very protective of those who are close to him, but he doesn't get close with just anyone. Very few people have actually become what Sam would consider "good friends." He is incredibly sarcastic, and it occasionally gets him into trouble with those around him, especially authority figures. Sam has always had issues with giving what is considered "proper respect" to people in positions of power. He sees everyone as equal, and treats them as such. He has little to no tolerance for arrogance.

Equipment

One Smith & Wesson .9mm pistol.
One machete.

History

Sam never met his parents: he was raised by a young couple who found him abandoned outside of a campus that has long since been destroyed and abandoned. He found his way to Culvert-Stockton at age 15 and made his home there. While there, he made himself familiar with all aspects of computer technology, from repairing hardware to hacking networks and stealing information. If there was ever a need to retrieve information on a subject matter, Sam was the top choice. He was picked up as a roadie for a band called Madison Way shortly after he arrived at C-S. During his time as a roadie, the band members were kind enough to teach him how to play their instruments. The drums were by far his favorite to play, so he became most acquainted with them. As soft spoken as he is normally, he becomes a completely different person on a drum throne.

So begins...

Sam Ballinger's Story

Sam slid the magazine back into his pistol and looked down the ironsights, just to make sure everything was properly alligned. Everything had been quiet at Culver-Stockton for a few days, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Ever since the Rangers had raided the campus, Sam had seen no one. It was a miracle he'd escaped alive. His memories of what happened were still crystal clear.

---Everyone on campus had been going about their normal activities. Some were having a few drinks, some were passed out on the floor, and still others were off spending quality time with someone in a dark corner somewhere.

But not Sam.

Sam was sitting in the tech room with two of his friends, surrounded by a thick, heavily scented haze.

"Hey, man. Don't park on my grass. Pass it on," Sam said, "If you guys are going to mooch off of my stash, at least keep it going."

"Yeah, my bad, dude," mumbled one of Sam's friends, handing the small glass pipe to Sam.

Sam took a long drag and held his breath.

"That's it," he thought, "One..."

Panicked sounds began echoing in the hallway.

"Two..."

His friends looked towards the door with puzzled expressions on their faces.

"Three..."

Gunshots sounded in the hall outside. Someone was screaming in agony.

"Four..."

The chaos was growing outside. Whatever was going on was getting close.

"Five."

Sam exhaled a thick cloud of white smoke and his head began to swim. His vision blurred and focused again.

"Much better," he sighed, contentedly.

Suddenly, the door burst open. There stood Kris Halpsbruder, the self-appointed "Top Dog" at Culver-Stockton.

"Gents, we have a problem," barked Kris, "To your stations."

The next thirty minutes were a blur of gunpowder and bullet wounds, walls splattered with gore, and the sounds of friends and enemies alike screaming in pain. The next thing Sam knew, he was alone.---

He'd heard the troops marching around outside his hiding place in the old tech room, across campus from where he and his friends had been. He knew they were out there.

He just hadn't worked up the guts to leave.

As he slipped the pistol back into its holster, Sam heard the sound of an engine grind to a halt outside.

"Oh, shit..." He thought, "What could it be this time?"

He stood up and crossed to the windowless door, hesitating as he grasped the knob. As he began to turn it, he suddenly heard an explosion from somewhere beyond the door. He knew it was time to emerge.

As he ran outside, he drew his pistol and ducked behind a crumbled wall, stealing a glance over it to see what was going on.

An SUV had parked near the middle of the courtyard. Several young adults, all around his age, had emerged from the car, and were apparently causing a bit of a stir.

Two of them suddenly broke off from the group and began to run towards the gun nest as one of the soldiers collapsed, an arrow protruding from his neck.

A soldier emerged from somewhere to Sam's right, just in front of the wall Sam had chosen for cover. He holstered his pistol and drew his machete.

Standing up, Sam leaped over the wall and slashed the soldier across his torso as he turned to face Sam. There was a sick splatter as a mist of blood fell across the ground. The soldier's eyes flashed for a moment, then went dull as he collapsed in a lifeless heap.

The group of young adults had made their way to a gun nest not far from Sam's current position. He took off at top speed to catch up with them.

As he reached the nest, he could hear them talking to one another.

"...As in THE Army Rangers?!?" One of the girls blurted.

"I wish I was joking," replied a male voice.

"He's right, you know," interjected Sam from behind the group, sheathing his machete and raising both hands.

Jack turns towards the new voice, his pistol drawn and aimed. "Identify yourself." He says coldly, brushing the trigger.

#, as written by Grrbot
Jewel was completely oblivious to the man who had locked his aim on her. Jack says something but it is muffled. She sees the grenade but she cannot move. Jewel stares in horror at the grenade when she feels herself being knocked to the ground. The wind is knocked from her body and she struggles to breathe. Am I dead? Whats going on? Jewel looked up to see Jack hovering over her. "Shit, everyone get to cover!" She hers Jack command as he carries her behind the SUV. "Jack... Thank you..." Jewel says and her eyes widen as she sees the cut. "Your bleeding!!!" She gasps. The next moment is a blur. Blair lines up a shot with the attacker and he hits the floor, arrow lodged in his neck. Jewel watches Jack and Blair head for the gunner nest and Jewel trails behind.

Jewel stares wide eyed at the scene before her. Jack, Blair and herself were staring at a blood scene. A man lay dead but it was the insignia on his shoulder... The US Army Rangers? "Jack, Blair.... Is that really what I think it is?" Jewel whispers.Blair says something that Jewel doesn't catch but she understands what Jack says. "Did you pay one once of attention in training! That's the 75th's Insignia, aka the US Army Rangers." Jack asks Blair. "Army Rangers?! As in THE Army Rangers?!?" Blair coughs in disbelief. "I wish I was joking." Jack says. "He's right, you know" says a voice from behind them. Jewel yelps and turns to see a man. "Identify yourself Jack asks the boy. "Name's Sam. I was living here at Culvert-Stockton before we were attacked." the boy says. Jewel relaxes a bit. "I don't mean you any harm. I just wanted to see if you could get me out of here. I've been hiding from these soldiers for over a week now, and it's getting to be a bit too stressful for my tastes." Sam continued. "My name is Jewel. You will have to ask our commander, Jack here," Jewel says as she points to Jack "For permission." She finishes.

"Now, if there were any more survivors, where would they be? Blair, get the radio set up and inform Command of our current sit-rep. Also, get Sean to send in another SUV for the Survivors."

Sam relaxed, quietly celebrating this fortunate encounter. He lowered his hands and thought back to the day of the raid.

"More survivors?" Sam mused aloud, "Well, if they were still anywhere on campus, they'd probably be in the safe room Kris had us construct. Worst case scenario, we find only the supplies that should be stashed inside. We'll have to go to the mess hall to get there, but that's not too far away. I can get us there. Just keep your weapons handy. Obviously the Rangers are still here, and that little skirmish outside is bound to have attracted their attention."

Sam paused for a moment to let what he'd just said sink in.

"Now, if you guys are ready, I'll show you the way."

"He's up there in that MG nest, talking to a Survivor." Blair says, as she continues talking to Command, requesting 2 armed SUVs and another squad.

"I think we'll wait for some reinforcements before we head out, the last thing I want to have is us being outgunned. And speaking of that..." Jack says, walking across the Rangers corpse and standing by the MG. "I'll be taking this, seeing as he wont be needing it." He says as he takes the M249 SAW off its tripod and reloading it with the extra ammo, than attaching a second full ammo box to his belt and throws 2 belts of ammo on both shoulders.

"I was in the area, Jack. Thought you could use a hand," said the newcomer who'd been identified as Sean, "Thought you'd be happy to see me."

He strolled into the nest with an air of incredibly high self-confidence that seemed to almost borderline arrogance.

He pointed at Sam and simply said, "Survivor?"

Sam internally rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. Survivor," He said, "Most people call me Sam, though."

He knew he was probably getting off to a bad start with the rescue squad with this remark, but he just couldn't help himself. Sam had a sarcastic streak a mile and a half long, and it had gotten him into some pretty nasty trouble on more than one occasion.

"I'm guessing you're Sean?"

"I'm guessing you're Sean?"

Sean clenched his jaw, trying to hold back to annoyance he already felt for this Sam. Well the key word there being trying. Where the hell, did this punk feel like he got off? "Yeah Sean. and while your at it why don't you drop the f*cking sarcasm. We're the ones here to save your miserable ass." Sean said, borderline yelling, at him..

"Now Sam, lead the way. If we can, we could use the SUV's in order to get around safely," said Jack.

"We won't need to travel by SUV," replied Sam, "It's close enough that we could easily make it on foot. With the rubble, there should be plenty of cover. We just need to stay low."

Sam beckoned for the group to follow and turned to walk out of the nest.

As he reached the courtyard, he turned and put a single finger over his lips. With a hand on his holster, he stepped cautiously through a hole in the wall leading through the old dorm rooms.

"The quickest way is through here. If you'd feel safer, you can have some of the SUV's drive around and meet us on the other side. The path should still be clear."

Sam peered into the darkness of the old dorms, listening carefully for any signs of movement in the dust and debris.

He once more put a single finger over his lips and motioned for the group to follow. One by one, they climbed through the hole into the dorms, creeping slowly and carefully across the checkered linoleum floors. In the darkness, Sam saw the silhouettes of bodies sprawled on the floor, many laying in dark oily pools. A thick, metallic scent clung heavily to the air.

Sam kept his pistol drawn as he reached the door. He held up a hand, signalling for the group to stop and cautiously opened the wooden door.

Light came streaming through, indicating that the ceiling in the hallway had either collapsed or been blown off. Sam peered through the doorway, looking both right and left to ensure that the path was clear. He stepped out into the hallway, beckoning for the others to follow.

"Keep quiet," he whispered, "The mess hall is just at the end of this hallway."

The group tiptoed across the stained, carpeted floor in the hall. At the end was a large set of double doors over which hung a faded sign indicating the mess hall was just on the other side. Sam placed a hand on the metal plate and gave the door a shove. It swung open quietly into the darkness on the other side.

"The safe room is in the back, just through the kitchen doors. If someone's in there, let me do the talking. They know me pretty well around here."

Sam lead the way through the upturned tables to a metal door in the back wall and knocked rhythmically.

There was no response.

Sam reached up, grabbed the door's handle and gave it a firm twist. The door opened with a creak of protest.

"Hello?" He called quietly, "Is anyone in there?"

There was still no response.

He turned back to face the group.

"As sad as I am to say this, it looks like the Rangers got everyone but me. It looks like there's still a fair amount of supplies in here. Let's grab what we can carry and get out of here."