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Illegal Generation

??clos

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a part of Illegal Generation, by MuteEcho.

You Will Never Surpass Us

RolePlayGateway holds sovereignty over ??clos, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

362 readers have been here.

Setting

meaning is "hatched" (To emerge from or break out of an egg).

The Adults home
This City exists high above Project 21 the errie glow it gives off is the childrens sky. A floating utopia that equally despises children


named by Arthurna
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??clos

You Will Never Surpass Us

Minimap


Setting

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Luther Rothenburg
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|LUTHER ROTHENBURG|


A huge jolt of energy hit the wall zapping it on all sides with such a force it would be reduced to rubble, but, not in this case the energy encased it turning red like flames but yet not so. It licked the stone changing it amidst the light was a shadow. The shadow commanded the power like an artist through the stone as he sculpted his masterpiece. The power increased the red light of the alchemy flickering rays upon the shadow. A mans face was formed between the sight.

The man being Luther Rothenburg an unstoppable military machine. Nothing could hurt him it seemed nothing could make even the.... even a dent in his vast power. The man able to with stand pain and even hunger, filled with the determination to finish the task and do it to the utmost right. The alchemy he controlled surrounded him like a warm coat but was vicious to anyone else. Luther was a monster none could surpass him in any way shape or form ....

"Hey short stuff stop showing off and bring me a lemonade" a voice interrupted his thoughts.

Luther's blood red eyes popped open with the slight twitch of a muscle. He ignored the caller and focused his power on the wall surging more energy into it.

"HEY!!! HEY!!! I'M TALKIN TO YOU!"

He closed his eyes again gripping his fists on the air strengthening the alchemy more.

"HEY~! KID!"

and Luther lost it. The 'would have been masterpiece' came crashing down onto the training ground the dust clearing fast with the futures technology keeping the other trainers safe.

"How... many times... do I Have.. to tell you"
Luther spoke calmly his hair obscuring his eyes.
"My Name is Luther Rothenburg not Kid!"

"sure look like a kid to me" called the soldier lazily from a safe distance away.

"You must be mistaken I am not a kid" Luther replied trying to reform his magic

"owwww did I hurt the little boy's feelings wanna go for a time out back in pathetic little town with all the other little babies"

"I AM NOT A CHILD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Luther roared finally losing his cool exterior as alchemy erupted from his hands sending the ground around the soldier straight into the air.

"SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY"
called the soldier shooting high in to the air and vanishing from sight closely followed by Luthers alchemy.

"You better be" Luther said calm once again though a muscle was still twitching on his head.
he then returned to his alchemy reforming the rubble wall.

but now his thoughts raced faster

calling me a child I'm not even short.... Its such an insult they don't know who they're messing with I have a job to do I don't have time for fooling around. Truth was there wasn't much of a job to do...being only second in command

Second he scoffed in his mind Second that's like last to me. I have to be better I have to surpass them. His power increased again with the speed of his thoughts. I wont let mere children beat me


(right place :D)

Setting

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Akasaka Kisaka
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| Akasaka Kisaka |

Mistral
North-Wind of the Crimson Hill


Kisaka used to see illusions every time she woke up from a deep slumber, witnessing a girl whose color became jumbled in time, seeing an ashen time piece which fell endlessly and broken, passing a static noise from a condensed place. But, the ending of the illusions were always same. No matter what the beginning or what she witnessed inside the illusion realm. It always ended with

her death.

Row, row, row your boat

She sat silently inside one of the buzzing cars which filled the city. Her eyes were hollow while watching the scenery went by from the back seat, watching the unfamiliar part of the city where the line between day and night blurred, the city of prosperity, Éclos, her ‘home’. Home
 a place to come back to, a place where you belong to.
Unconsciously, she gripped her katana and wakizashi which rested on her lap.

Gently down the stream,

“You look distracted, Miss Mistral.” The driver asked her with head still fixed to the road. Kisaka averted her gaze from the window and looked forward, to the driver direction. When she answered, her tone held no emotion.

“Am I?”

“Is it because of the mission?”

“No, it’s
.not about that.”

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily

She glanced back toward the passing scenery. It wasn’t because of the previous mission three days ago. The mission itself was an easy one, ‘cleaning’ a small settlement of resistance-group which inhabited with thirty children or so. Her mind automatically gave her the vivid image of a few kids that fought her back while the other chose to run. The bravery screams and fears from the children. And after that, it followed by the putrid smell of iron, of splattering crimson liquid, and the sound of bodies hitting the pavement. She shook her head. Remembering the completed mission wasn’t good. When it completed, the mission was supposed to be forgotten. That was the rule. The rule they taught her ever since she was a little kid.

Life is but a dream.

“The truth is
” She murmured softly.

Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream,


“
what actually bothered me is just
” She closed her crimson eyes and leaned to the window.

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily
Life is but
.


Her voice came out no higher than a whisper. “
a dream.”

“Then
” The driver turned his head to the back and making his ‘face’ visible to her. “Why are you still coated in blood?”

“Huh?” Kisaka blinked and realized that her seifuku was drenched in blood. The blood was dripping to the seat and pooling on her feet. “What the-“

Row, row, row your boat
Gently down the stream,
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily
Life is but a dream.


Then everything made sense to her. The passing view of city which she can’t distinguish between day and night, the buzzing feeling it gave, the blood on her clothes, and more importantly the driver, the driver that had no face.

“I see
It’s-” She took a deep breath, trying to clear her thought which became jumbled. Her next sentence came out flatly “I just need to end it, right?”

The faceless driver didn’t answer her. He kept silent even after she took out her wakizashi from its sheath.

“Good morning, Mistral.” Said Kisaka, and the blade went through her hearts.

Existence is but an illusion.

She blinked. The scenery of training ground greeted her from her standing position on the corner of the field. The breeze which caressed her long hair felt unnaturally real. But she just stood there, unmoving while watching the training ground.

The training ground of Éclos city.

“I’m back, huh.” She sighed and gazed upward to the flying screen which showed the news. Her eyes focused on the corner of the screen where it showed the time.

03.00 P.M. It read.

Something whizzed pass above her. “SOOOOORRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYY.”

It was a soldier shooting high in to the air and vanishing from sight. Shaking her head at the strange antic of the soldier, she went back to her previous activity before the illusion bothered her. Meditation. Because she needed that. She needed that to kept her mind intact, to avoid her own destruction. Meditation. She then closed her crimson eyes and sat on the ground, clearing her head from any thought or sound. Trying to blinding her mind from the surrounding. Just right before she fall to the oblivion, a familiar scene resurfaced, a forgotten memory from the past.

“You know, if you keep this up, you’ll break.”

“I know. But the truth is
I-”


And the tranquility of the meditation greeted her.

Setting

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jonathon "Iron Wall" Riggs
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#, as written by Zentose
| Jonathon Riggs |


Jonathon was watching his squadron on the training grounds, rushing through hoops and difficult challenges, both physical and mental. The pale mid-day sun was cool, a gentle breeze came as a constant reminder of the outside bliss that those above felt as opposed to those below. Jonathon just watched as his squadron went through the course, he was an officer, he received his training through experience, but sadly, half of his squad died on the last excision, and the other half were severely injured, so he was stuck with all new recruits. Not once did he complain, nor did he ever feel the need to either, those were his orders, and that was indeed what he would do.

-One week earlier-

A routine mission in Project 21, seven children were not present in the last scanner run, so four squads were sent down to search for them.

"Sir!" Jonathon's second-in-command began, "We have reports of gun fire from the first squadron's patrol route."

"They must have come in contact with one of the targets," Jonathon said, in his usual monotone, emotionless manor.

"Well sir, a scout from the third squadron reported that seven children, matching the descriptions of the seven missing children, attacked and killed all the soldiers there.

This surprised Jonathon, but he did not show it, "Seems a militant group has been formed with the seven outlaws, tighten the perimeter, be prepared for an assault from all sides."

"Yes sir!" his group yelled, following his orders.

After ten more minutes along their patrol group, the group of children attacked, rocks and trees and energy blasts were thrown from all sides, Jonathon's men began to fire upon the assaulting children as they appeared. The skirmish lasted only a few moments before the children retreated, two of their numbers lied dead on the ground, three more were definitely injured.

Jonathon rushed threw his squadron and counted three dead, two severely injured. To this he said, "Medic stay behind and care for these two while calling for the other squadrons to rendezvous at this position, you two," he pointed to the only two soldiers whom he hadn't given orders to, "Come with me, we're going to track them."

Jonathon and the two soldiers followed a trail of blood for about half a kilometer. The track converged on a small house. Jonathon pulled out his 10mm pistol and replaced the full metal jacket clip, with hollow point. He used hand signals to order his troops to ready grenades to be loped into the house from all windows.

He gave the order and the grenades were thrown inside, as the explosion resonated throughout the streets, the screams of children were heard, most likely losing limbs or being severely maimed in the blast. Two children ran out of the house unscathed, a 16-year-old boy and a 4-year-old girl.

"Come quietly kid," Jonathon said, raising his gun towards the boy, who was about 3 meters away from him.

He scoffed then asked, "The 'Iron Wall,' right?"

"My nickname is nothing, come quietly, or die, it's your choice."

"Or die? I didn't realize it was a choice in this discriminatory government!"

"Will you come quietly or not?" Jonathon asked, pulling back the hammer on his pistol.

The child made rocks shoot up through the streets, and surrounded himself and the girl with them, there was no area large enough for Jonathon to shoot through. The rocks surrounding him began to be launched from his shielding at Jonathon. In one single fluid movement, Jonathon not only twirled and sauntered through the barrage of rocks unscathed, but once the kid's shield was gone, Jonathon fired, the bullet piercing the child's forehead causing the back of his head to propell itself outward as he landed on the ground, a large splash of blood coating a small trail to his skull, signaling his inevitable defeat. Jonathon then moved towards the other child, a 4-year-old by the looks of her.

"I suppose you'll go quietly..." He said, raising his gun to her forehead.

She smiled, then Jonathon heard a scream from behind him, be looked back, one of his men was pummeled to death by rocks, the other was being pushed on the ground with an increasing amount of force, he was being crushed. The girl's power was to control gravity, Jonathon tried to raise his gun back to her head, but the force of gravity around him became too great for him to lift the gun. She continued to smile as he heard the bone's of his last soldier crush and break. He felt immense pain all over his body as he struggle to get free, He lifted his gun up at an angle of just enough, then fired, the bullet pierced the girl's arm, nearly causing the limb to fall off from the force of the hollow-point.

The girl screamed and held her arm, the pressure lifted from Jonathon's body... He lifted his gun towards her forehead and said, "It's only orders..." then fired.

-Present Day-

Jonathon took a large drink from his flask, the burning sensation appeasing his conscience, for a time. He had done much worse, but it was just the most recent. Their faces continually haunt him while he is sober, hence his persona, the "Iron Wall," an ultimate force of good for adults, the emotionless, thoughtful leader that is needed to get everyone home, which is what Jonathon tried to always did. The worst part about the mission wasn't killing a 4-year-old, it was that they killed so many of his own men... He took another drink from his flask and put it away. He moved over to the new recruits of his, and began to bark orders at them, as was expected of the commanding officer...

Setting

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| Ara |


What was that? Was that the smell of smoke? She pounded on the metal walls around her and held a hand to her mouth as she coughed. Somebody, somebody had to save her. She could hear chaos outside but she could see nothing. All around her it was completely dark. In there she had but a moment to think about her life, but what of her life was worth remembering? What would she be able to remember?

Up until she was eighteen
 What was her life before that, before this? A scene flashed before her eyes similar to this one. Fists banging against the walls of an enclosed space. The smell of smoke and screaming. But that was over now. It was only a fragment of something that could mean nothing. Now she had the power. The power to create and the power to destroy.

Who would have thought that the thing she created would one day be her coffin?

Her eyes began to grow heavy, her head began to sag. Just then, light flooded into the tiny enclosure. A hand extended from the hatch above and a missile sounded as it wailed through the sky above.

“Come on,” a voice said to her, “the general has ordered a retreat
”

Come on, the voice said, and retreat.

___________________________________________

She had to stop spacing out. There wasn’t much for Ara to do on the training field that day, but it was better than getting lost in her thoughts. She was called into observe the trainees as they ran through a field of mines
 Yes, that is
 real mines. Ah, well they didn’t exactly blow up though. They were just a prototype. These mines were designed to give out a strong electric shock when triggered. So strong that they could perhaps, ah, cook somebody’s brain from the inside out if they weren’t careful. They would be useful in the future, less noise, little cleanup
 Ara sighed, though she preferred the over-kill, loud explosions of the old landmines.

The mines being used in today’s exercise, however, had a lower voltage, though they would surely give one a shock if activated. The trainees had a monitor hooked to their belts, which beeped much like a metal detector when they neared a mine. It was up to them to listen to the beeps and decide where the mines were located. Many trainees were failing
 miserably. Honestly, the whole concept was a lot like echolocation. Was this crop of soldiers really less intelligent than bats? Ara hung her head in her hand and shook it back and forth. Where was some good ole’ fashioned TNT when you needed it


Setting

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Character Portrait: Clementine Jr.
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| Clementine Jr. |


The dawn of the day crept closer between the time it took for Clementine, a high class assassin, to strike his next victim and meet his deadline. He knew Eduard Howard was a traitor, a middle class citizen who supported the children, a rebel to bring the adults down. He also knew that Eduard got up every day before the sun rose to continue on his 'business', which was why Clem had been assigned this mission. If he failed he would have to report to the head officer and master assassin and admit his failures, or wait another day to commit his kill. These were not options.

He waited silently above a two story apartment building, a shabby looking thing with only one light flickering inside. Clementine knew that light, he knew who came out of there everyday at precisely the crack of dawn. For at least two days Clementine had made his home up there on the roof of the building, watching Eduard, retreieving proof of his traitorous behaviours. It wasn't the first time Clem had been assigned tasks like these, actually this was only one out of many. After failing the Reece Frendo case, where Clementine ended up unconcious in a trash can, he made it sure that he memorised the routine of his targets and not to strike too soon, after all, he would prefer not to report back smelling like a sewer.

Soon enough, morning light slid over the city, covering it in a grey light that made things easier to see. Clementine could not kill in public, he could not let anyone else see or be killed, the Adult Government did not want there to be a panic, they did not want the adults to know that the children may be a threat, that there are people trying to stand up for themselves and the children. This is the way it was and will stay, and Clementine did not question or take sides, he needed money and they gave it to him, a lot. They also gave him a name, something to live up to, and that is all that Clem wanted. He did not care for anything else until it presented an opportunity to him, in his face. It's how Clementine worked, and the Government knew that.

He expected Eduard to have come out by then, but he did not. The light was not flickering now, all was dark except for the grey light that covered the land...this was not right, instantly Clementine knew something was wrong.
"Hello," a deep, raspy voice called out from behind him. Darn.
Clementine turned and saw a dark figure, a little bit younger than himself, "Hi there, care for a seat? Tea? It's a bit chilly out tonight".
The man scoffed, annoyed at Clementine's offer. Eduard was faced with Clementine Jr., a dark haired man wearing a gasmask and nice tailored attire. He had a small table and was sitting on a small wooden oak stool. A teapot was placed in the middle of the table, and Clementine held a small blue glass cup, likely containing coffee. This was where Clementine had stayed for the last few days.
"Not funny," Eduard growled, and suddenly pulled a knife out of his jacket pocket. With a sudden flash a bolt of electricity covered the knife and surged quietly in Eduard's hand, "I don't appreciate spies, so if you please." The man ran quickly towards Clementine, before Clem could react Eduard was ontop of him and stabbed him in his right shoulder. Electricity shocked Clementine and with a groan he managed to pull away from the knife and the dark man. Eduard turned toward Clementine, ready for another round, but it was too late. Clementine had pulled a small metal contraption out of his pocket and with one swift movement blew on it, revealing a needle dart that shot into the air and into Eduards thigh.
"A tranquillizer?" Eduard muttered.
"Nay," Clementine groaned, sore from the cut and the shock of the electricity "Poison".
Before Eduard could form a correct facial expression, his legs were numb and paralyzed, followed by his arms and soon after his whole nervous system had shut down from the poison. The limp body of Eduard Howard lay dead on the ground.
Clementine sighed, and stood painfully from kneeling on the floor. He held his shoulder to stop the blood flow, and walked towards the body with a drag.
Mission complete.

*

It was a while after before Clementine reached the training grounds, fresh from a shower and a bandaged up shoulder. He was still a bit sore from the shock earlier, but his body had been through worse. He had successfully handed in the body and got his payment, a local nurse treated him for the minor internal damage and the stab wound and sent him on his way. He was annoyed at himself for letting the target find him out and, even worse, attack him, but he tried to hide that when filing his report.

He walked lazily along the sidelines of one of the training facilities, not actually planning to train (he rarely did) but he enjoyed watching others' techniques, picking up little moves that might help him. Perhaps he should train, especially after this morning...nah.
Clementine reached in his pocket, holding a small dog tag necklace with a tiny diamond in the middle, engraved on the bottom was his name 'Clementine'. His first lover had given this to him, a rebel of the adults who supported the kids. Clementine was only just an adult when he had met her, but the government ordered her death. This was the last thing he had of her, and then he became what had killed her. Ironic.

A soilder ran past, crashing into Clementine and making Clem drop the dog tag necklace. "Hey, watch where you're going," he called out, and the soilder waved and apologised while still running. Probably late for a training session.
He looked down to pick up the necklace, but instead his sight was met by a rusty metal grate. The necklace had fallen inside and down into who knows where, a dark abyss that awaited inside the grate.
A burst of panic went through Clementine, he could not lose that...it was one of the most important things he owned. His hands lifted to his head and he grabbed his hair in annoyance. Think, think...where do the drains lead to? Sewer...and where do they lead to?
Project 21.