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Ryan Jacobs

"You really think that was a good idea? Should I remind you of today's situation?"

0 · 369 views · located in New York City

a character in “Freedom's Last Stand: Us”, as played by Redred33mer


Ryan Jacobs

Age: 20

Gender: Male

Height: 6'1/2"

Weight: 183lbs.

Employment before occupation: Was a high school student until 2015, then did whatever work he could find for money

Current employment: Civilian Resistance



After seeing the horrors of World War 3, Ryan has become more hate filled towards the Chinese occupancy, and his rage can permeate his operations against the soldiers, and sometimes compromise him. When he's wandering around the streets and sees Chinese soldiers, its quite difficult for him to restrain himself from being violent. He tries to understand aspects of a situation before diving into them, and he can be quite pushy when trying to achieve something he wants. He can be a bit "awkward," you could say, saying some odd, sarcastic things that some people find hilarious and others would find just weird. He might make racist jokes, but on a political level, race is almost never an issue. He doesn't care if your black, white, purple, or green, just do what you're supposed to. He has a more cynical view of the world, and can be quite the hard-ass sometimes, but just about all of his actions have some level of sincerity behind them.

Ryan grew up rather normally. His father was an optical physicist that did much work for the military and some private companies, making a considerable amount of money. His mother stayed at home caring Ryan and his older brother Alex, who was four years older than him. As lame as it sounds to some, the two brothers went through Cub Scouts then Boy Scouts, picking up much of the knowledge needed to survive the World War 3 catastrophe. He had his small group of friends, and went through middle then high school with them. He serves with some of them now in the civilian resistance. He never received a college education or any part of it; his family became too poor to even afford cable. His brooded for about a year before his 19th birthday finally came around.

For his 19th birthday gift, on April 14th, 2016, Ryan got a Chinese invasion of America. His family was not able to escape the wrath of the Chinese onslaught; his brother was hit by an artillery shell, his remains unrecognizable, and he was separated from his parents who eventually found a way out of the city. Left to fend for himself, and fueled by an unending rage, he joined the civilian resistance that rallied against the Chinese. One particular night, when he was operating against the Chinese, he set a supply stock of the Chinese's aflame, after packing whatever he could carry away in his backpack. In his escape, his friends got away and left him behind at Ryan's command after Ryan was shot in the side. The blood stain can still be seen on his shirt. He was saved by an Asian-American citizen, Alexis Song, who he later pushed for her to be accepted into the civilian resistance. He still goes on to fight against the Chinese occupancy, even after that disaster.

-Modified M249 SAW
-Four M2 Frag Grenades
-M9 Handgun
-Hiking backpack
-Pocket knife (6" blade)
-Food for two days
-Sixty Chinese Yuans
-Necessary survival gear
>Compass, map, mess kit, method of fire starting, etc.

So begins...

Ryan Jacobs's Story


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Freedom's Last Stand

- "You're never beaten until you admit it."
General George S. Patton

Looking from any window of any building in, you could see a foreign soldier walking down the street, usually with another. Patrols were common. Even since the removal of the US military from the East Coast, Chinese casualty rates remained high; civilians were rallying. They would not accept the tyranny brought upon by their oppressors. The streets were destroyed, bridges fallen, entire skyscrapers toppled or burnt to rubble. This was the better future which the Asian powers sought to bring to the globe?

There was a bar in Battery Park, nameless from the bombs that dismembered it. The windows were smashed, tables tipped over, and it seemed no one was there. The back door was locked. Behind the door, it was supposed to be an ordinary restaurant or bar room with booths and tables, but supplementing that, there were four shipping crates, filled with weapons: rifles, handguns, ammunition, grenades, and one rocket launcher lie on a table. What was odd was that an acoustic guitar and its case were leaned against the wall in the corner. There was a door in the rear of the building, the led out to a dark alley, which was also locked from the inside. It was like a hidden munitions depot. The walls were falling apart, like in any of the urban buildings around New York City, and paper products such as napkins littered the floor. Anywhere you turned, you found abandonment in the city; people's lives were changed so drastically that even the most loving of couples couldn't comfort each other enough, or more importantly, their children.

It was almost silent, but click after click, one more bullet was loaded into the magazine of a machine gun clip. A young man sat at one of the booths, a machine gun looking like an M249 SAW on the table in front of him, stabbing through the silence with his intent eyes. His shirt had his own blood spilled on him from when he was shot about two weeks ago, but now he was ready to rejoin the action. His own odor stunk the room, but just about everyone did as it was almost impossible to shower every two days or get deodorant. He itched his head, then grabbed another clip to load additional ammunition into.

Outside, a bus pulled up, laden with Chinese prisoners to be sent to re-education camps. Two Chinese soldiers pushed a middle-aged couple along, armed with rifles. The mother was crying as her son, only a toddler, tagged closely behind, and her husband was silent but there was no doubt he was grieving. The bus doors opened, but it seemed the bus driver had no room for the additional prisoners, only the soldiers who needed transport would come aboard, but that didn't mean the civilians were saved.

"Go, go, to the wall now!" one of the soldiers commanded, yelling at the couple. The other soldier held on to the child's collar. Many of the soldiers began to learn English as it was needed to effectively ordered the newly conquered Chinese citizens, or former Americans. The couple got to the wall, frightened, as one of the soldiers began to take aim.

"Try-" the mother began to say to her son, choked up from the fear and grief, "try not to think about it honey, everything will be fine, we'll always-" and their life was ended with two thundering flashes of light. The toddler began to cry hysterically as he was dragged aboard the bus by the Chinese soldier, and his parents dropped to the ground right in front of the nameless bar. Once both soldiers and the toddler were on the bus, its doors closed, and it began to drive off.

Hearing the gunshots and the woman's shaky last words, and the result of the child crying, Ryan knew exactly what happened as he gripped his ammo clip harder than ever, feeling as if the rage would empower him to crush it in his single hand. But the moment of anger passed, and came the realization of tragedy. What would happen to that little kid? Only time would tell. And when the sadness passed, as much as it could at least, he began to think of why he had struggled to bring all of the arms here to this room in the past two weeks, and why he was loading his clips, and why he was waiting for his friends who were also part of the resistance to answer his call to assembly.

There was no exact ranking system for the civilian resistance, there were only people who would organize against the Chinese. Whoever had an idea for an objective would then organize his accomplices, and they would set out for the mission when told. It was only whoever had the idea that was leading.

"Soon," Ryan said to himself, "soon they'll be here." He paused for a moment, thinking, and he continued to have a conversation with himself.

"Is it crazy to talk to yourself like this? Or is it just a way to make me feel like someone's actually here, that I'm talking to someone and that someone is listening? Is it even more insane to have a conversation with yourself about having a conversation with yourself?" He pondered these questions endlessly.

"It doesn't matter... I'm going to kill them all."


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Character Portrait: Alexis Song Character Portrait: Ryan Jacobs Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Alexis ducked into a dark alley, hearing the sound of a bus approaching from behind. She hid silently, crouching low as she turned away so she was a much harder figure to spot in the shadows. As expected, the bus drove past, pulling over some distance from her destination. Peeking from the alley, Alexis realized it was a bus that carried prisoners to the Chinese's 're-education' camps. Really, it was more 'brainwashing' than 're-education', but clearly, the Chinese were fond of euphemism. It mattered little to Alexis at this point, but a phrase came to mind: 'history is written by the winners'.

She slid down the wall, not wanting to look as she heard the soldiers separate the couple from their child. Where had the times of peace gone? As it stood, the United States were in a terrible situation. Poor leadership, indecisiveness... It all led to today, but who else is there to blame? Alexis curled into a ball, resting her head on her knees as the gunshot resonated through the streets. In her heart, she was hoping the couple went quickly. At the same time, she was apologetic - it could have been her getting shot.

Well, perhaps she would receive that fate soon enough, now that she was in the Civilian Resistance. It was an ironic realization, almost making her wonder if she sought death. She did not, but reality was harsh. Even though death still was inherently distasteful, Alexis could not deny its temptation. As soon as that thought surfaced, she quickly recalled the recent events. Clasping her hands in prayer, she gave her thanks to God.

Joining the Resistance was no easy affair. The Chinese's brutality instilled an understandable hatred in the American citizens. However, there was little to no way the Americans could rebel with ease, for the Chinese were far too powerful. This rage was hence suppressed, and channelled onto the Asian Americans. It didn't matter that they were relatively different from the Chinese, but in times like these, the differences were reduced to a minuscule. Grouped under the label of 'Chinese', it became harder for such citizens like Alexis to join the Resistance, however willing they were to overthrow the Chinese.

However, Alexis was not one to give up so quickly. For many weeks, she would seek out the Resistance and beg to be let in. In all these attempts, some would beat her, some would insult her, some would humiliate her, but none would take her. That is, until she fortunately chanced upon an injured member of the Resistance. She didn’t initially know that, saving him only because she couldn’t be apathetic enough to leave him alone. This act of compassion was what earned her place in the Resistance.

Still, the discrimination towards her remained, and she saw no chances to be utilized in any missions that the Resistance spearheaded. That is, until the person she saved sent her a message telling her to meet at the bar.

Finally concluding her prayer with a hope for safety, she got up, peered out of the alley to notice that the bus had already left. Taking several careful glances down the street to make sure no other soldiers were around, she then began to walk briskly to the bar. As soon as she reached it, she hurriedly entered. Ryan was already inside, loading his clip methodically and slowly. Alexis looked silently at him for a brief moment before she walked over and took a seat with him at the table.

“Hello, Ryan,” she said, smiling broadly at him.


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Written with TheodoraMina in RPG Write

Ryan heard the workings of the door handle as Alexis had opened it. He had his hand ready to take aim and fire with the handgun on the table beside his machine gun. Seeing her, Ryan took his hand back to the ammo magazines, loading them as he was before. He relaxed for a moment, going calmly about his business as Alexis came over and sat down beside him.

"Hello Ryan," she said, smiling.

"Hi," Ryan responded, not taking his eyes off the bullets and metal boxes. "I'm playing the most fun game of all," Ryan said, "the waiting game. Wanna play?" He returned to his numerous machine gun magazines, loading more bullets into them. He was nearing the end of his supply of clips. The blood stain was still there of when Alexis first saw him and he was shot in his side. "Chris and Dan are supposed to be coming here soon, but I don't know about James," he told Alexis. Chris and Dan were two of Ryan's old friends, since the end of elementary school. "Why don't you go into one of the crates and get a gun?"

"Haha, I'm no good with waiting," said Alexis as she chuckled. Ryan continued to load his machine gun while Alexis looked around the bar. Most of the furniture was blown to bits, with only the remnants of it left to hint at some decent furnishing that had existed. Getting off her seat, she walked over to the shattered windows of the bar, peering out at the empty streets. "Those two sure are late, aren't they," she wondered aloud, moving over to the crates at Ryan's suggestion. Looking down at the crates, she was surprised to see a variety of rifles and handguns. Grenades too, in some of the crates. Alexis had to admit to being somewhat impressed. This was quite the stockpile of weapons that they had here. She could almost feel just a little more confidence in the Resistance's ability to fight back against the Chinese.

"Well, I don't know my firearms... I guess I'll just go for the easy one then," She says, her hand playfully hovering over the weapons in the crates before settling on a pistol. It was the typical one that usually appeared on television in the hands of the police. She couldn't put a name to it, but she figured it would do.

"You should probably get a rifle, too," Ryan added, stopping to look at her standing at the crates, finally done with loading his magazines. He rubbed his eyes, barely able to keep them open. More often than not, he would stay up late, smuggling weapons or running through plans and conducting operations. There was always something he'd find to do. He got up and went over to the stack of crates that Alexis was at. "Here," he said, picking up an M16. "You should have fun with this. Now let's start getting your ammo ready." Ryan reached down into the crate, taking out two boxes full of bullets. "Grab some of the magazines in the corner," he commanded, heading back to the table.

"C'mon, hurry up Chris!" a boy said, running through the alleys. They were some blocks away from the bar, and sirens were going off, but then again, that wasn't an uncommon event.

"I'm coming, we gotta lose them away from our destination!" Chris exclaimed, running after him. He sprinted forwards and in front of his friends, as Chinese soldiers followed behind, firing their rifles and sub-machine guns. "To the right!" Chris yelled, and he and his friend went into another alley in that direction.

"Hold on," the other boy said, looking around.

"What, Dan!?" he expressed under the pressure of death.

"Up here!" Dan yelled, jumping onto a fire escape ladder. He climbed quickly, Chris following soon after. Dan climbed halfway up the ladder, before shimmying over to plunge down and into the window of a towering apartment building. Glass shattered, and the two friends got into the building. An elderly woman sat in her chair, eyes wide open.

"Sorry, but we're trying to live ma'am," said Chris. "C'mon Dan, we gotta get across the street, we'll lose them there!" The neighbor's dog began barking, and the two shuffled out of the wearing apartment, and they flew down a set of stairs and through a longer hallway, running through the busted door. Dan looked around frantically as they were losing the Chinese in their escape.

"Into the metro," Dan said, calming himself as to not give their position away by yelling. The two headed down the sidewalk a bit, then scurried into the depths of the metro, dimly lit by emergency lights. "We should be safe," Dan added, "the Chinese destroyed much of the underground during their invasion, so we should be able to get to Battery Park easily, just keep quiet."

The two began walking down the subway tracks, collecting their breaths as they continued on their trail to Ryan's hidden supply cache. It was just another day under the nose of the Chinese.


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Character Portrait: Alexis Song Character Portrait: Ryan Jacobs Character Portrait: Jean Havok Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Written with Redred33mer in RPG Write

"Halt! Stop right there! Stop now or I'll shoot!" A Chinese soldier yelled as he ran after a man who was running through the destroyed city, and into an alleyway. The Soldier was accompanied by two other men, and as they turned into the alleyway, they saw it was a dead end. The apartment on the far end of the alley had collapsed, and the only way left out was through the soldiers.

The man turned towards the soldiers, an assault rifle in his hand. "Drop your weapon!" the soldier yelled aiming his own rifle at the man. The man was panting heavily, as he stared at them. Finally, he dropped his rifle to the ground.

"Alright, you got me, what now? I go to a camp, is that it?" The man yelled raising his hands above his head.

"No, we don't send garbage to the camps, we'll send you to a much worse place," The soldier said walking towards the man, his two allies still aiming at the man.

"Is that right? Where might that be?" He asked slowly, eyeing the three of them, trying to find a way out.

"Hell, we send useless scum to Hell," the soldier said raising his rifle.

As the soldier raised his rifle, the man reached out grabbing the muzzle of the gun, pushing it to the side. As his other hand grabbed the back of the soldiers head, and pulled him forward into his elbow breaking the soldiers nose. He quickly, spun the dazed soldier around, so that he faced his allies. He watched as the two soldiers raised there weapons to fire, but hesitated. The man reached down, and grabbed the soldiers handgun. He raised it up to face the two Chinese soldiers, and opened fire, sending three bullets into each of the two men before he put one through his hostages head.

He could hear the other soldiers coming in the distance, at least a dozen of them. He picked up his assault rifle, and ran out of the alleyway heading towards an intersection up ahead when several bullets flew by his head from the soldiers coming up behind him. He found himself running even faster down the road, quickly approaching the back of what looked like a bar or restaurant of some sort. He slammed into the back door, but it barely, budged. It must have been locked, or barricaded. He hit the door again desperately trying to open the door, before the soldiers turned the corner on of the intersection. He slammed into the door again this time, it budged, and almost seemed to flex inward. He hit the door a third time, and the door opened, as it did he stumbled in and closed the door.

He pressed his back against the door, listening for the soldiers. They had passed by when the man looked up to see two people. One was a young woman and the other was a youthful man aiming a handgun at him. "Don't shoot, I'm not one of the Chinese," He said looking around the room to see a lot of crates full of ammo, and what he thought to be a missile launcher on the table. He could see a bar, and some intact furniture, but most of it was destroyed.

"Your flashy entrance almost made me. You busted the lock on the door and now anyone can walk into the back, and when you have a major arms cache like this, it's not exactly something you want to be found. Who are you?" the man asked quietly as to not alert anyone outside.

The man smiled and replied in less than a whisper. "My name is Jean Havok, and I'm looking for a Ryan Jacobs."

"So I have a reputation now?"


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Fortunately for this man, Alexis had yet to load her weapon. For if she had, she would probably have fired instinctively. The man's sudden entry was nothing short of startling; she felt her heart almost leaped out of her mouth thinking the Chinese had managed to discover their hideout so quickly. For a brief moment, she felt like picking up the rifle as instructed. In such a situation now with Ryan and his gun raised at the man, she felt awkward being the only one without a weapon raised.

However, it seemed the man meant them no harm. Incidentally, he was looking for Ryan himself. Jean Havok was his name; Alexis found herself focusing on 'Havok', linking it to the havoc he has almost caused in the bar with his startling entry. With the shock of his entry fading, Alexis took the time to observe the man's appearance. This man had clearly seen a lot of battles. Scars marred several parts of his body, maybe more under the shirt, Alexis didn't want to know.

His face was rugged, which at the very least suggested he was a normal man in these harsh times. His stare, however, suggested that he was beyond the average man on the street. It was a menacing stare, one that made Alexis wonder if it was due in part to the scar that ran through his eye. Or maybe his rather awkward-looking nose. Those eyes seemed to bear deep into a person's being, and when she saw them rest on her briefly, she almost shivered.

On a more positive note, he was quite possibly running from the Chinese, which meant he was on their side. Even better, he was rather muscular - a sight for Alexis to feast her eyes on.

"Oh right, I'm Alexis, by the way," said Alexis, half-smiling as she regarded him with a mix of interest, curiosity and suspicion. For the moment, she figured she would let Ryan decide what was to be done with this man, and instead, go for the magazines as instructed. Walking to the corner of the bar, she reached into the crate and took with her four magazines before she returned to the table with Ryan.

Against her better judgment, she looked to Jean and beckoned him over. "Come on, take a seat and talk," she said, before she reached into the boxes of bullets that Ryan had taken out for her. She took a bullet and tried experimentally to load the magazine. Ryan made it look so easy; she had no idea if she was doing something wrong, or if she was simply not used to it. Still, it was better that than to join the conversation between the two men. From the way things looked, it seemed it was going to become a serious talk, and Alexis was no stickler for seriousness in the lighter moments before a serious mission.