Massacre City [OOC]

[parallelzero]

Massacre City is the nickname given to the once peaceful city of Morotsuka, a peaceful city which once suddenly began to erupt in a series of murder cases several months ago. The sudden chain of deaths appeared quietly and out of nowhere as corpses began to spring up rapidly across the entirety of the large city. All of these bodies had two things in common. The first was a neckband that was fastened tightly around their throats; the other was that none of them seemed to have any sort of ID. In fact, they didn't even seem to be registered citizens of the country based on DNA samples. To the citizens of the city, who all possessed identification, this wasn't exactly anything to be afraid of, since they figured they wouldn't be targeted.

But like all organized crime, things weren't all as they seemed. Behind the scenes a game was being played, a game that played with the lives of innocents. Unknowing to the authorities, people were being kidnapped from all over the world and brought to that city. The collar, which looked like nothing more than a silver accessory that was maybe a little too tight around one's neck, was actually a highly advanced piece of technology that had a variety of functions. For one, it was the lifeline of the one wearing it. If certain conditions were or weren't mean, the collar would be quick to inject a lethal poison into the wearers body, ending their lives nearly instantly. This would only happen if any of these things were to occur:

1. The player goes 7 days without murdering another collar wearer.
2. The player falls into custody of the authorities.
3. The player attempts to make use of a firearm.
4. The player enlists the help of a non-player to assassinate a fellow player.

As it is easy to see from this list of rules, the life of a player is a hard one to live. All players should have some combat experience in order to defend themselves, as well as kill the one player required every seven days in order to survive. Each player is assigned a rank based on the length of time they've survived in the game, the rankings going up by chess pieces. New players start out as pawns, and then after living for a week they are upgraded to the rank of rook. From there, knight, then bishop, and finally Queen or King depending on their gender.

That said, welcome to the game. We certainly hope you can find it within your ability to make a workable lifestyle out of this situation. Hopefully, your pathetic human nature won't get the better of you. After all, when it comes to life or death, any person can be made into an animal.

Form

Name:
Age: (Let's be reasonable here. This is a game based on combat.)
Gender:
Rank: (Pawn, Rook, Knight, Bishop, King/Queen)
Appearance:
Personality:
History:
Weapon: (No fire arms, but pretty much everything else is a go.)
Other:

RP Sample:

 

[Loki]

Count me in. >:D

Spoiler:

Name: Dublin Owen Brodegan
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Rank: Bishop

Appearance: Good looks are no stranger to Dublin, who isn't shy about his handsome features. His face is a warm, friendly one. A perfect nose placed just so, vivid brown eyes that command attention, and thin lips, often spread into a smile. Being of Irish descent, Dublin is quite obviously not from Morotsuka, though he tends to catch onto the trends faster than even most Japanese, fitting into the city rather easily. His skin is tanned just right, and he makes it a point to keep it where it is, not letting it get any paler or darker. His chocolate brown hair is styled so that his long bangs hang either between and around his eyes, or go straight off from their part to his left. Whatever he feels more convenient for the day. More often than not, Dublin has the body of his silky straight locks pinned back by two large white clips on either side of his head, keeping the short layers off of his ears. His eyebrows are rather thin, shorter than they would probably naturally be if he didn't intervene with their natural growth. Despite his fashion sense that is just a little younger than he is, his face is baby-ish enough to be practically idol status. Looks are deceiving when it comes to Dublin, who appears harmless and sweet at first glance. Easily the best looking, and best to befriend of all his bandmates, if he could probably carry the entire ensemble on his looks alone. His build is lanky, rippled with lean muscle garnered through fierce training and his secret midnight escapades picking off pawns and rooks at his leisure.

Fashion is pretty high on Dublin's list of priorities, right up there around survival. He loves cargo the most, but knows that overdoing it is always a dangerous risk. The pocket ridden style, in his opinion, looks the best on top, but he'll often opt for a more preppy street look rather than his sleeveless cargo's. Plaid, diamond, and striped patterns can be found most anywhere in his rather unorganized and messy closet, from bright colors to dull ones, Dublin is an expert at mixing it up to match the latest trends. While most of his pants are neutral or earth toned, he does have the occasional pair of blue jeans thrown somewhere on the floor of his closet, buried under his sneakers, boat shoes, flip flops, and his personal favorite- motorcycle boots. While he has a special strap to wear on his legs for days when he doesn't wear boots, the shin-high footgear is simply so much more convenient for running about, delivering crushing kicks to the head or abdomen when compared to the mediocre elements like sneakers. And they're useful for hiding things, like numbing and poison serums, along with his trusty jet-syringe which is anything but sterile. Dublin actually uses his accessories as devices for hiding the various lethal weapons on him- the belt on his waist is decorated with shobo's, the heel of his boots contain different kinds of liquids to be injected by a syringe hidden in the heel of the other boot, his watch is a mini-bomb ready to explode if Dublin hits the wireless control on his mp3 player, and long chain belts double as strangling devices. It's not right to automatically assume that everything Dublin puts on himself is a ready weapon though. No, his necklaces, his bracelets and his rings are all, for the most part, normal and harmless. He wears a pair black golfing glove on his left hand, and a matching glove that is fingerless on his left.

Personality: Just your average serial killer on the loose, nobody would pin Dublin as a killer- even if they got to know his personality well, which they wouldn't. He's acts just the way you'd think a pop-band idol would- funny, amiable, cheerful, and friendly. But just like your average pop-band idol, he's good at keeping his distance. Though well-liked by almost everyone, there's not really anyone around who would give their life and loyalty to him, and he doesn't particularly have anyone to give his life and loyalty to either. He's friendly, but he's the polite kind of friendly. He'll never get too comfortable around someone, and if he feels that he's getting too close, he immediately jumps back a few notches. Dublin's sure to have a few buddies though- friends that are close enough to him to back his case if he ever needs them to, while keeping them out of his life just enough so that they don't pick up on the fact that he's always got something to do on nights during the beginning of the week. He's a natural at pulling off "coincidences", as his heightened senses from playing the game for so long keep him on his toes and prepared for just about anything. If he's confronted with a problem, it won't take him long to think of a makeshift solution, and then when he has more time, he'll go ahead and think it through a little more. He's never willing to owe a debt, but he loves making other people owe him for favors- as such, he's always willing to help, but always for the wrong reasons. But it doesn't matter to him what he's doing it for. As long as other people keep thinking that he's the good natured, fun-loving, carefree person he puts up as a front.

When he's on the prowl however, Dublin is a different story altogether. Deadly serious, if Dublin's looking for his next victim to survive the week, he's not a slacker. After years of killing people, he's grown to sort of enjoy the sport, and has long since stopped caring about the situations of the dead corpses he uses as his payment for his life. He's efficient- disliking the idea of dragging out a fight and letting someone live for too long. He usually makes life easier for himself simply by stabbing his Shobo into the back of his victim's neck- or injecting a lethal poison into their bloodstream. Sticking around too long just isn't his style. If the fight gets dragged out, then Dublin's usually not too keen on sticking around. If the battle doesn't end fast enough, or doesn't entertain him enough, that he'll simply turn tail and book it outta wherever he is and try a new prey the next day. He's not ashamed to run away, and in fact is rather good at it. Making trouble for himself is pointless and a basic waste of time in Dublin's opinion, and so usually avoids rankings higher than rook, preferring to pick off the newbies. He doesn't trust anyone, but he's always willing to make a general agreement. It's hard to tell whether he'll keep his side of the terms though, as Dublin isn't exactly your everyday saint. Lies are what he lives for, and whatever conscience he had has long since been murdered along with dozens of other players. Ruthless and ready to backstab anyone, he's a rather irritable person underneath it all, easily annoyed and impossible to coax a smile out of.

History: -to be revealed, because original history was not satisfactory-

Weapon:
Shobo - A shobo is a ring worn on the finger of a ninja. On the end there is a small piece of wood attached in order to strike the opponents pressure points.
Dublin usually keeps his shobo's along his belt, and they act as decoration to the unwary.

Jet-Syringe and Serums
Chemistry is easily Dublin's best subject after entering the game, and he knows poisons, anesthesias, and drugs inside out. The jet-syringe sends lethal amounts of whatever serum he's decided to use into the victim's system faster than any average syringe could, using air to propel the liquids out of the chamber. When he's not wearing boots, he has a separate container for the liquids and syringe, usually in the form of a flexible silicon attachment to the inside of his belt.

Junk
Dublin's survival in the game relies mostly on his flexibility with his environment and quick reflexes. He's usually able to use something within his vicinity and make it his weapon, though of course he's not very graceful with most of the things he chooses to use.

Other: Dublin uses martial-art-based counter attacks and basic street fighting for when fights get too dragged out and he can't run, though this is rare. He takes fighting lessons on and off between his busy schedule.

RP Sample:

 

[parallelzero]

Spoiler:

Name: Akihito Sato
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Rank: Pawn

Appearance:
Akihito Sato is a youth with shoulder-length, straight brown hair that he ties in a single ponytail with a red hair tie. His eyes are brown as well, and they are often filled with a gentle look that makes it easy for anyone to underestimate his destructive ability. He is somewhat muscular from his sporting activities, but he isn't exactly the strongest person around.

At first glance, Akihito would appear to be just your regular school boy. Dressed in a crisply ironed white dress shirt, a single pocket on the left chest of the garment, you don't automatically take this kid for a killer of any sort. The shirt is short-sleeved, which doesn't hesitate to show the muscles he's developed through rigorous games of baseball and the training that accompanied them. The shirt is tucked into a pair of beige dress pants that are slightly too big for him, and are held up by a brown, seemingly leather belt. His shoes, seemingly leather in appearance as well, do much to match the belt, being a similar shade of brown. As they are dress shoes, it makes it quite difficult for him to move around in an agile manner for now. He also carries around a black messenger bag that he always keeps secured onto his back. His possession of this bag is of vital importance, as inside it he keeps an abnormally large cleaver. The cleaver barely fits in the bag, and while in the bag the blade is wrapped like a corpse in white cloth. The wooden handle of the weapon is just under a ruler's length in size, while the blade is at least double that in length, and about ruler's length in width as well.

Beneath his clothes, Akihito has a variety of scars derived from his past, including the lacking of one right nipple.

Personality:
If you got to know him personally, Akihito would never strike you as the type of person who would take a life. Highly intelligent, he always exceeded in both studies and athletics, which lead him to develop a complex that had him thinking everything was boring. He's calm enough to remain rational when faced with a dangerous situation, and kind enough to not seem like he'd ever cause any harm. This, however, is a guise. With a history stained in blood, Akihito was at one point a youth who was very bored of life, and saw it fit to end the lives of others in order to keep himself entertained. One day he came to realize his wrongs, and resolved to not cause anyone that sort of pain ever again, but unfortunately he is being put in a situation where he doesn't have a choice in the matter. Upon being admitted to Massacre City, he has had no choice but to reinstate tactics and strategies that he never wanted to use again.

History:
Akihiko was born and raised in the country. His parents, neither having been able to go to a post-secondary education due to their like of willingness, quickly pushed their failures on him, making him study in all of his spare time, even during his youth. It was because of this youth that he became an introverted person. When he eventually want to school, he was far above the level of the other students, and he became bored. This continued throughout both middle school and high school, which lead to him developing a superiority complex. Their minds were no match for his, not even the minds of most adults were, why should he bother socializing with them? It went without saying that he had no friends, he didn't need emotional burdens like that. But, because he thought he was superior to everyone else, his boredom grew and grew, until eventually he got fed up. One night, for no reason other than the fact that he had snapped, Akihiko took a large cleaver into town and absolutely destroyed a little girl who was out playing late at night. They found her corpse the next day in the river... in several pieces. It wasn't long after that he lost it again, killing his teacher. The third time, however, things didn't go so smoothly. His parents had grown suspicious, and sent the authorities a tip the next time their son went out at night. Just moments before taking the life of the girl who claimed she loved him in a confession, the police arrived and he was dragged away. What came of this event, however, reshaped Akihiko's views on life. The girl he was about to kill... the look on her face as he was close to shaving it off... the tears... He began to feel guilt for what he did, and two years later, thanks to his young age, he was released into the public, apparently cured of any mental damages that would allow him to take a life again.

But, it wasn't too long after that, when he woke up in Massacre City.

Weapon: Cleaver
Other:

Spoiler:

Name: Alesia Sinder
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Rank: Knight

Appearance:
While Alesia seems to act modest (even though she really isn't), her overall appearance tends to betray the act she uses. Her eyes are turquoise green, although her right one is covered by a white bandage as a result of her childhood, and her hair, at natural, blond and ridiculously long - to the point of it reaching it's knees, the girl after being ejected into the game at Massacre City quickly became interested in the Gothic Lolita style and adapted it into her own fashion. She quickly found, however that for the most part it was an impractical style for combat, so she had to find more battle friendly clothing in that style. What she finally settled upon was something that no decent girl would wear. First, to match her new style, she died her hair. But no, she didn't dye all her blond locks like a normal person would, and instead only dyed the bottom portion of her hair a greyish colour along with a splatter of it on the top of the right side of her head, a black headband with white frills and a large read box and small black bow tied into the left and right sides of her hair respectively.

Her frame, small and light, was lightly toned with muscles that proved the girl exercised frequently, her entire torso hugged by a tight black dress held up with spaghetti straps. The skirt of the dress was ridiculously short, while the dress overall showed off a lot of the girl's skin. Her arms, neckline, and a good amount of her fairly large cleavage were left showing. As a result, when she fight, it isn't rare for her opponent to get a pantie shot... or several. Three yellow buttons fall down the center, just below her breasts, black lace running along beside them. To the south east of these buttons, just above her right thigh, a rose with a black bow is etched into her clothing. Around the wrists her dainty hands, whose fingers are painted black, she wears little rings of cloth that have a pattern akin to fish netting, although bandages are clearly seen beneath it on the right hand. She wears black boots, with fishnet stockings rising up to a little ways below her ridiculously short skirt. Basically, my inspiration was this picture.

Personality:
Strictly speaking, Alesia is the kind of girl that is misleading in nature. She appears to be a naive girl that seems to find some sort of fun in everything, always smiling and laughing like an idiot. In the end, all this is, is a guise to take her enemies off guard. Her true nature is more quiet, and fierce. When it comes to the life or death situations she is constantly placed in, her personality does a completely flip. She becomes a cold killer when she is required to take a life, using whatever undermined tactics necessary in order to accomplish the assassination. Despite this, she does apologize to the corpse of every life she takes after killing them, as she sees them as deserving that much since almost none of the players joined this game willingly. She kills men with much more grotesque methods than she kills women, her past influencing this spike in personality that pulls out a sort of desperation in her. Her usual personality, like mentioned, is rather naive and playful. She likes to joke around, and is rather modest. She likes to keep her secrets, so she'll let very few know about her past.

History:
Born and raised in a family consisting of men, Alesia has always been that girl in an all-man's world. Her mother died shortly after giving birth to her, and from what she was told she was indirectly responsible for the death. As punishment, she was treated as the family's slave, doing work for her two brothers and father, and often getting beaten as a reward. To make things worse, her family was very violent to start with. Her father practiced kickboxing, while her two brothers practiced swordplay and martial arts respectively. These different styles were unleashed upon her daily, from the point where she was just a small girl to the point where she eventually ran away from home at age thirteen, after she was raped by her own father. It was at that point that she lost all faith in any of her family having any love for her at all, so she ran away after setting fire to her home. She abandoned her real name at this point, adopting Alesia has her new first name.

She traveled to a far away country, one where her family could ever find her if they had somehow survived the fire, where she was placed in the Sinder orphanage. It was there that she began to train herself. She had found that she was able to replicate the styles of fighting her family exhibited based solely off the mental scars the memories had left her with. Even though she was away from home, she was still plagued with nightmares and a strong distrust for men, more specifically large men. Alesia awoke in Massacre City four years after running away from home, her prior memories stopping abruptly just after dealing with some thugs who had been picking on her best friend.

Thanks to her fighting experience, which was ironically owed to her family, she had little problem settling in to the game at Massacre City. The strategy she adopted was one that only required her to fight when needed, running away at any time where her life was endangered. When she finally reached the rank of Knight, she was enlisted in SAVE, an organization within the game that assigns higher ranked players to Pawns in order to teach them the ways of the game.

Weapon:
Alesia is an improvisionist, meaning she carries around no particular weapon, but instead makes use of the things around her. She has a vast knowledge of both martial arts and kickboxing if there are no such weapons around, too, and with a long stick like weapon she can execute what she knows of fighting with a sword. Since she is small and carries no heavy weapon, she is one of the fastest players in the game and has earned a reputation for her ability to escape. The darkness is her greatest ally, as she can easily move undetected through it all.

Other:

 

[Phanima]

Just to keep with the general aesthetics of the thread.

Spoiler:

Name: Arancha Tolsa [Ar-rang-ka Tull-sa]

Age: Not specified but approximated to be around 30

Gender: Male

Rank: Knight

Appearance: Firm in build, Arancha is a moving fortress. His natural figure is built in proportion but layers of thickened muscle coat his appendages and torso, providing him with a heavyset central axis. Although muscular, his frame is by no means comparable to that of professional bodybuilders but more along the lines of professional trainers. He had grown into such a state however, that his height (184cm) and weight (89kg) are sizably larger than the average thirty-year-old male.

Differing from the norm in stature, his assortment of apparel has been especially tailored to suit his measurements. Of course, being the type to only wear whatever he deems comfortable, fashion hardly has any bearing on his appearance. That said, as a general mock-up of what Arancha finds familiar in attire, first, a long-sleeved collar shirt (usually Hawaiian in style) over an initial undershirt is appropriate, its sleeves left roughly rolled up and the buttons undone. Three-quarter cargo slacks secure his waist, his next accessory, although fitting for this particular uniform, is used specifically for supporting his carryon weapon. An abundant link of chains are adorned especially for this purpose, replacing the need for a belt altogether. Threaded wooden sandals are the last article of clothing and solely support his heavyset build.

Aside from apparel, Arancha can be summed up as a distinct individual with his heavily sun-kissed complexion, bleach dyed hair and naturally nonchalant expression, one that is almost always in possession of a cigarette, lit or not.

Personality: Although lax in appearance, Arancha is deadly serious about what he does and how he does it. Already experienced in hardened thuggery from his youth, his transition into Massacre City was quite seamless. From such origins, his behaviour developed into one of that comparable to an adult delinquent. Despite this, he often forces the facade of an aloof drifter (not an all too inaccurate description mind), but the reason? He found it amusing.

Aside from maintaining his personal charade, he also enjoys taking the piss out of those he finds worthwhile in annoying. Of course, his lacking sociability is but one trait of his personality among many others, such others including an unmeasurable ego and superiority complex.

As it stands, there is little to no compassion in his natural heart, sarcasm and discontent reining his public facade. Those unrelated or deemed irrelevant are those subject to such abuse.

History: Everything up to the last five years of his life had been nothing but a lucrative fairytale spun by his parents. Of course, taking the first opportunity he could, he abandoned those who abused and used him for their own personal gratification. As a result, he was living on the streets by his late teens, his story one of many similar to those who then lived alongside him.

Raised in the ways of the street, the slums acting more as a home then what he could call that shack in which his parents resided, Arancha grew up to depend on his new family more than he could have ever anticipated. And as he continued to survive, he became stronger and stronger, and the stronger he grew, the more places he ventured and the more people he met. It was during one particular excursion when he met Deval, his love affair, life partner and soul mate as well as the eventual catalyst that would drive him into the heart of Massacre City.

But before then, it was upon reaching maternal age that the two conceived their first child, a daughter who came to be named "Levi". Unfortunately, Arancha would soon find the extent of Massacre City's influence and its players' ferocity, for Deval then revealed to him that she was one of them. It was in a vain effort to save the two that the inevitable happened. Having fought with those who pursued them, he failed to save his only daughter. But in her wake, he instead fell into the hands of the city's game to prevent a second loss. He had become a player from that moment on and for one simple reason; to exact revenge on those responsible.

Since then, he had spent the last two weeks killing as many collars as possible, the blood shed from each battle painting his unclean weapon in its dye.

Weapon: A simple two-handed mace forged from iron. Its solid spherical head is armed with bolted bearings, four around its circumference and one on top. Its elongated handle runs long and thin, the slightest indentations marking its surface, preventing it from straightening itself to its fullest extent. As such, Arancha has dubbed the weapon, "Bent Judgement".

Other:

Combat Experience: As a close quarters combat specialist, Arancha poses an immense threat to those who oppose him through direct combat. With his unnaturally thick and built up physique, breaking bones and puncture wounds are mere flesh wounds to him. It'll take more than brute force to bring him down.

Relationships: Deval (partner and mother to his daughter), Levi (deceased daughter)

RP Sample: (Taken from CARD GAMES, mastered by AC Coda X) From the point where the explosive monster had detonated, a crater spanning the diameter of the ring had formed, the cracked tiled ground now completely reduced to rubble. In its wake stood Michel, his form beaten and bruised, his shredded clothes steaming from the explosion's after effect. Having braced the blast with arms crossed, he teetered in place, struggling to stay on his feet as his body reached its limit. Falling to his knees, his cards scattered beneath him.

In the fading afternoon, the clouded skies darkened, casting the room into shadow as the ring of fire diminished. As the final flames died into the ground, the new heiress stepped up to her fallen sibling, a less than amused look on her face.

"How troublesome." she huffed, peering down at his limp form through hardened eyes, "As unfortunate as it is, I can't let you die just yet."

Then, glancing over at the onlooking crowd and scanning their faces, she was surprised to see that her next target was nowhere in sight. Turning back to Michel, she raised a curious brow, "I assumed Achan Smith would be accompanying you." before then adding over her shoulder, "Rosa?"

"The head count of all passengers on board from Duellist Kingdom was conducted as requested." came the prompt and still unfazed voice of the automated escort, "All members of Team Seven were accounted for."

"Sorry..." followed Michel's rattled breath, his head still hung despite his spiteful tone, "But Smith isn't here. We traded up."

The slightest of twitches annoyed her brow as she listened to his explanation, his surprisingly resilient attitude irking her beyond his condition. Submitting to his words however, Chris simply sighed, placing a casual hand on her hip as she looked up at the blackened sky through the lobby's shattered windows, "Fine."

Rising from the darkened room itself, shadows began to swirl around the previous heir who being in the condition that he was, remained unmoved. The darkness immediately surrounded and engulfed him, swallowing whole and leaving not a trace of his existence behind, save for his fallen disk and cards. It was over in a mere matter of seconds.

"Congratulations Christina." Rosa spoke up, "Shall we proceed with the next target?"

Retrieving her shredded coat and relaxing into its sleeve, the new heir of Arma Tech remained standing over Michel's abandoned cards, "It appears we'll have to leave dealing with Achan Smith for another time. So then, our guests are no longer needed."

"Understood." Turning on her heel, her still unflinching smile intact, Rosa addressed the group once more, "If you'd please follow me, I'll escort you outside."

I'll be touching up in places, as well as trying to find a suitable sample.

EDIT: I decided not to add in what I had planned, merely for the fact that describing it in-character would be much more appropriate and immediate. That aside, sample added and sign-up complete for review. :3

 

[parallelzero]

Okay, Loki and Phani accepted. ^^;

I'll finish my sign ups probably tomorrow.

 

[Aurafire]

Just a thought... As this is the first roleplay I've joined (besides the one I recently created that doesn't seem to be going anywhere), I don't have a "sample". However, I can give you a sample from some of my other writing if that's ok.

But this does look fun. Let me know if my sign-up looks good ^___^

Spoiler:

Name: Jessica Cole

Age: 22

Gender: Female

Rank: Knight

Appearance: Jessica isn't someone you would call "drop dead gorgeous" by any means. She is sometimes described as plain if not a bit odd looking. However, the cute and innocent smile she always seems to be sporting helps people looks past this, and in the case of the opposite sex, often causes them to be somewhat if not hopelessly attracted to her. Jessica's hair is by far her most redeeming feature. Her long, wavy locks of brown flows crazily over her shoulders and down to the small of her back, like that perfect hair you see on the models in shampoo commercials. Remarkably, Jessica doesn't seem to have to take care of it that much to keep it on such good condition. Her face has rather soft features, with bright hazel eyes, a small nose and round lips.

Jessica has the long, thin body of a runner. However, she's still surprisingly strong and somewhat capable of hand-to-hand combat if necessary. She almost always wears tight, slightly ripped jeans, a plain t-shirt and a worn in pair of running shoes. Jessica's appearance isn't incredibly important to her now that she has more pressing issues to deal with, yet she always checks a mirror to make sure that her "look" is still intact.

Personality: Jessica is one of those girls that seems like a tease, but in reality her motives are purely innocent. She's fun loving person and likes to bring out the happier side of those she meets. She knows when to speak seriously. However, she prefers to poke fun and make jokes during casual conversation. Her entrance into Massacre City has obviously dulled this care-free attitude significantly, but after she has satisfied her kill for the week, she reverts right back to her happy, albeit alert and watchful, self. She often tries to see the good in people, and upon meeting another player, may initially try to befriend him or her if she senses that her life is not in danger. Even though deceit and deception is quite common within the city, she has often avoided confrontation in this manner which has helped her achieve her rank as Knight.

Jessica is highly competitive by nature, and her participation in the game has only amplified her desire to survive, and more importantly, win. Although she is kind and generally wishes no harm upon any other person (or animal for that matter), the game has turned into a twisted test of her resolve and strength. She feels remorse after every kill she makes, and yet the knowledge that she grows in rank every week is enough to quell the disgust of murdering. That said, she does not kill more than she has to, unless she must defend herself when confronted with another player out for blood.

History: Jessica was born and raised in a small town in the United States. Her childhood was rather unremarkable. She went to school, has best friends, played a few sports, flirted with boys, got good grades, and eventually, got accepted into college. Compared to high school, college was a bit of a bore. She missed her old friends and the lack of work she had to put in to studying. However, she pushed through and eventually graduated with a degree in physical therapy. But before she could begin looking for a job, she was kidnapped and brought to Massacre City. She still has no clue why she was chosen or what the purpose of the game is, but she's smart enough to know that she must play in order to survive.

Weapon: Dagger - Since Jessica had never received any type of self defense training, she found a dagger to be the easiest weapon to wield. Although she has made several kills with it, she is still rather unexperienced at wielding it, which puts her at a disadvantage if she is engaged in close combat. However, simple intuition allows her to decide if she must slash or stab at her opponent.

Other:

RP Sample:

Renn could hardly believe his eyes as he, Eradonna, Lyion and the lone elven guard rode swiftly down the hill. As with the rest of the forest, Dylenor was littered with massive trees, although the ones in the city were quite a bit smaller and spread out. Lights came from within them, sending beams of light shooting out every which way. The city was long, and from his view on the hill, Renn could see that it stretched back many miles. At the end of the city lay a large castle, probably the king's, that towered over the rest of the city. The great palace was built to perfection, its towers curving delicately upward along with its smooth, polished stone domes. The whole city seemed to glow with elegance. Each beam of light was perfectly laid out, intermingling with each other to cast an aura over every part of the Dylenor.

"It's been a while.", said Eradonna. She was still holding onto Renn, even though he was, for the most part, fully recovered. "The city has changed. The houses are gone."

"Much was destroyed in the attack, princess.", said Lyion. "Many of the houses were beyond repair. We have found the trees to be adequate for not only living, but other things as well."

"It certainly is a change.", she replied. "I've forgotten how peaceful it is here."

The small group rode in silence, taking in the great elven city. Renn could see elves emerging from the hollowed out trees, no doubt awoken by the bright lights and screaming vurk. They were looking up at the approaching group, although Renn struggled to see how they were reacting from his position on the slope of the hill. Lyion led them down a path entering the city. It cut into the hill, gently swerving downward towards an large arch leading into Dylenor. As they drew closer and closer, Renn could see some elves on horseback riding out to meet them. Lyion directed them to slow their horses.

The elves that rode up in front looked like guards, their elegant armor gleaming. In back of them was an elderly elf, dressed in a magnificent cloak. His eyes implored upon Renn and his companions.

"Hail, King Eythinor.", said Lyion, bowing slightly. "We come to your great city of Dylenor from the outer village of Halodyn. Our business is urgent, My Lord."

"What has happened within the forest?", asked King Eythinor.

"We have been attacked by vurk. One was found dead within the forest, along with one of our own. A group of about twenty attacked us on our way here."

"I heard their wretched calls. Are they still alive?"

"Please, My Lord. We have been injured. I promise, we will answer all of your questions."

"Very well.", said King Eythinor. He is eyes turn to Renn suspiciously. "You, boy. What business do you have traveling with the elves?"

Renn froze, not knowing what to say. The king's harsh tone made him flinch with nervousness. Lyion quickly stepped in. "My Lord, there is a reasonable excuse for his traveling with us. I'm sure he will answer all of your questions."

"Indeed he will…", said the king. His eyes lingered on Renn for a few more seconds, then he turned towards Eradonna. Eradonna tried to hide her face within her hood, but the king quickly rode over to her. "You there. Let me see your face."

Eradonna reluctantly lifted her head. The king looked surprised.

"You are tainted? Only one other elf has been infected by dark magic. What is your name?"

Eradonna began to sob softly. King Eythinor, clearly taken aback, tried to sooth her.

"Come now, child. I only wish to know your name. I know, It must be horrible to have such a vile substance within your body."

"Father…"

Eradonna was openly crying now, her face dripping with tears. King Eythinor looked disbelievingly at her. His eyes narrowed.

"What did you say?"

"Father…It's me. Eradonna."

She lifted her head for the king to see. His old eyes gazed at her face for a few seconds, studying her intently. Then he was overcome with emotion.

"My…child. Can it really be you?"

"Father, it's me! I have returned to you!"

Both the king and Eradonna jumped from their horses and ran to each other, embracing happily. Renn smiled in spite of himself, happy to see Eradonna reunited with her father.

"Oh, Eradonna. My Eradonna!", sobbed King Eythinor. "I thought you were dead. Everyone thought you were dead. Oh, how we mourned! But you are alive!"

"I am alive, Father. I am here."

King Eythinor put his hands on Eradonna's face. "Oh, my child. What has happened to you? Your body is ruined. Who did this to you?"

"I'll tell you everything, father. Let us ride to the castle. We have been riding all day."

"It was my fault. I should have protected you better. It was my fault you were taken."

"Hush, father." Eradonna said strongly. "You could not have done anything else. You did what you thought was best to protect me."

"Oh, how I have wronged you, child. I sentenced you to this horrible fate."

"Stop it, father. No more. You cannot blame yourself for this."

King Eythinor stroked Eradonna's black hair. "We will find a way. You cannot stay like this."

Eradonna smiled at the king. "No, father. I cannot. But now, let us go back to the castle. We will tell you everything."

"Yes. There is much to be discussed. Come. Ride up front with me, and let your people know that you have returned."

 

[parallelzero]

@Aurafire: It looks pretty good, but I'd probably want to see some sort of writing sample before I accept you. ^^;

 

[Aurafire]

I added my sample, a small piece from a fantasy novel I've been writing. So there's my complete sign-up ^___^

 

[parallelzero]

Sorry about the delay. School, work, Platinum and stuff. XD

Everyone who signed up is accepted, and my signups are done (I just need to transfer them from paper to the computer). I'll have this up and going sometime between now and Thursday night.

 

[Eucliffe]

This RP looks rather pwnsome. I like the plotline and all. So hopefully there's room for at least one more? =D

Spoiler:

Name: Nicole Sylvia Ferris
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Rank: Pawn
Appearance: Nicole is roughly 5'9" in height, and she is of average weight. Her skin is ivory-colored, but is rather muscular due to her working on a farm as a child, and her chest is roughly between a C and D-cup. Her eyes are emerald at first glance, but are in fact a beautiful hazel green on closer inspection. As for her hair, it is colored in brilliant shades of raven black, which stretches all the way to her chest, with a middle part, and a small braid on the front left side of her face. The rest of her features are simple. No blemishes or freckles cover her face. Her nose and lips are just the right size, and are in no way deformed. Her arms and legs span a couple feet out, and the toes and fingers are in perfect condition. However, Nicole does have one birthmark right on her left shoulder. Strangely enough, the birthmark is almost shaped like an imperfect star.

As for attire, Nicole tends to dress in light clothes, usually due to her outgoing personality. She loves to wear silvery blouses that reveal as little as possible, as well ast-shirts that happen to feature funky logos. She wears blue jeans quite often, but may occasionally wear long white skirts. Nicole is also a bit finicky when it comes to what type of shoe she has to wear, and usually ends up wearing white or black slip-ons. Her socks are also a plain white, though they may sometimes have a hint of light blue or green by the soles of her shoes. Nicole also loves to wear necklaces, and often wears her shark tooth necklace, one of her prized possessions. It is deadly sharp and a shiny white; Nicole has to make sure it doesn't create a hole in her neck. Finally, she may often wear a typical baseball cap, usually one with some sort of logo.
Personality: Personality is one thing that makes up Nicole's entire history and attire. She is rather outgoing, and loves to go to parties, get herself drunk, and later find herself naked in some man's room without realizing what had happened the previous night. Despite this, Nicole is rather intelligent. The only thing that stops her from making the right decision is the depression hidden deep down within her. Being a carefree partier on the outside, Nicole is in fact greatly depressed, with thoughts of suicide every day. If it weren't for her carefree personality clashing with her more moody one, she would be dead by now. Nicole occasionally shows her true personality, and that usually causes her to kill or nearly kill.
History: Born a farm girl, Nicole worked out by tending to the livestock and crops, as well as painting the barn, house or fence and anything a typical farmer could do at such a young age. Her family always hoped she would grow up to take on the farm on her own, but Nicole had other plans. She wanted to be a nomad, never staying in one place, traveling all around the world. However, her parents didn't listen to her wish only because they were stuck on the thought of her running their farm. Nicole insisted that her younger brother, Michael ("My-kai-elle") run it, but they still didn't choose to listen to her.

After more years or arduous work, Nicole finally rebelled. She ran away, went to live with one of her suburban friends (which, by chance, came to Nicole's family's farm with her father one day to get some crops), and began school. Now, one could imagine how rough school would be for one without much of an education, as well as one that smelled like cow manure all the time. Nicole was teased because of how "different" she was, and eventually depression and her inferiority complex got the better of her. Nicole did graduate high school, but chose not to go to college. After all, why would they want a farm-born girl who smells like cow crap, she would tell herself. Instead, Nicole chose to be a party girl, to hide her real feelings, to keep her from thinking about the past. She ended up losing her virginity within a day of this newly developed personality, and this made her even more depressed. Psychologists didn't help, acupuncture didn't help (though she learned a lot about it from an afterschool class she took), and finally Nicole gave up on trying to improve her life.

Many weeks later, Nicole found herself traveling to Japan, Morotsuka to be exact. She had studied Japanese while in senior high, and wished to know more about the current culture in contrast to what she had learned at school. This lead her to develop a rather violent personality, which was rather her true personality bursting from the one she used to hide it. Nonetheless, Nicole learned to maintain this personality, and soon learned to control when she could change personalities. It sounds rather odd, but surely a farm girl with a lot of unexpected experience could learn to do such a thing.
Weapon:
-Her Shark Tooth Necklace – Small as it is, if used in the right place, it could be very deadly (remember, Nicole knows acupuncture; she can figure out one's pressure points most of the time)

-Two Stainless Steel Pocketknives – Both are also very small (but much larger than her Shark Tooth), but being very agile and also very strong, Nicole can make much use out of both.

-Stainless Steel Scythe – About the same size, but double the sharpness of a regular sickle. Using these things all the time on the farm, Nicole is very fast using this scythe and can often make it boomerang-like. It doesn't always work as a boomerang successfully, but if thrown at the right angle at the right speed with the wind in the right direction, it usually hits its target without fail.
Other: Like I said, Nicole is very agile and strong, growing up on a farm and all. She also has knowledge of acupuncture (as mentioned a couple times), and can usually find one's pressure points without a problem, though this may not always be the case.
RP Sample: I noticed some others don't have Samples, so I'm not gonna post one. But if you need one, let me know.

If there is anything, ANYTHING that needs to be changed/added, let me know. Thanks.

 

[Sublime]

Hope you don't mind if I try to squeeze in ^^

Spoiler:

Name: Thomas S. Klint

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Rank: Rook

Appearance: Standing at a rather laughable 5' 10' with gangly arms and legs, along with a thin neck and long nose, Thomas gives a radiant impression of a spineless weakling. His jet black hair is slicked back, revealing his prominent widow's peak, and glued down with a thick slab of hair gel. His forehead is rather large, taking up a good portion of his upper head, but a journey a bit further down will reveal his piercing green eyes, covered by wide-rimmed rectangular glasses. Thomas' teeth are crooked and misshapen, due to the fact that his parents could never afford dental care, but they are as white as snow. His physique is completely laughable. He has few muscles to be proud of; his arms are thin and lankly his chest is flat and skinny. Though, oddly enough, his legs have qualities to be envied. The muscles in his legs simply bulge with pride; this is due to his childhood love for track. Overall, Thomas is not a force to be taken seriously; at first glance, that is.

Thomas is adorned with a rather banal attire. Day in and day out, he wears a button up shirt, usually white or black, that is tucked neatly into his long pants, which are usually khaki or dress pants.The pants are held in place by a fine leather belt, always black or brown. At the bottom of the outfit is his brown suede shoes. The reason for this commonplace wardrobe is that Thomas is made to wear this exact same thing every day at his work, so he feels that this outfit defines who he is as a person; taken, that this is a very bland and boring person.

As far as accessories go, Thomas can sometime be seen with a pair of sunglasses that are identical to that of of his eyeglasses. He can always be seen with a cross necklace hanging around his neck, due to his serious roots in religion, though this charm is usually tucked in his shirt collar. And finally, while not really an accessory, Thomas always carries a pocket knife in his right rear pocket. "You never know when you'll need it!" His father said the day it was handed down to him. Thomas knew he would never need to use it, but if it would shut his father up...

Personality: Thomas has a all-work-no-play outlook on life. He's on this green Earth to do his job, and do it right. There is no goofing off when it comes to this fellow. He teaches his children to practice the same. But of course, this doesn't mean Thomas is lacking in a sense of humour. As a matter of fact, Thomas has a great sense of humour. Despite the fact that it's a little...Dark. Take for instance, the time he was watching a horror movie with his family. The killer had just creeped behind an unsuspecting teenage girl and slit her throat. While his wife and two daughters were shielding their eyes, he was enjoying a good guffaw. "Talk about a cut and run!" He would yell out in between chortles.

Thomas' intellect can get the better of him at times, giving him a cocky attitude. When posed in a situation where others haven't the foggiest idea what is going on, Thomas will let out a chuckle, followed by something along the lines of "Oh come ON! It's so simple!" Needless to say, this can get him on the wrong side of many people. Fast.

Thomas also has a slight anger problem. Very slight, mind you. It can take him over just like that though, when pestered enough. He has been known to have a personality similar to the effects of "Roid Rage" when angered enough. But, other than that, Thomas is naturally a nice, smart, hardworking individual.

History: Thomas' childhood wasn't one to be envied. He was born in the poor part of town, to a very poor family. Birthday's and Christmases were filled with tears and apologies. While the other children played Super Nintendo, Thomas would sit in the dirt and play with homemade army men. And of course, it was that lucky boy with the Super Nintendo that got all the friends. So Thomas had to play army with no one but himself for eight cold years. But the end of those eight years didn't mark happy times for Thomas, oh no. The end of those eight years marked Thomas' twelfth birthday; it also marked the day Thomas would begin supporting his family. You see, his father's meager job of a factory worker wasn't bringing in enough income to support a wife and three kids. Thomas' older brother, Ralphie, refused to work, declaring that "He didn't have time for a job in the middle of football and girls." Ralphie always was the big man on campus. He was the star of the football team and got all the women. Thomas had suspicions that Ralphie denied even being related to him. Thomas' other sibling, Maria, was nothing but a mere child, much to young to work. So it was all up to Thomas.

He got a job at the local auto parts store, the only place that would hire a twelve year old boy, as a cashier. He had to juggle this job and a school life, for he didn't dare lose his education. Earning an extra minimum wage every week brought home a little more money, but certainly not enough to live on. To compensate, Thomas skipped out on many meals, thus saving money and giving him his now gangly appearance. He would live this hard life for another few years, until he reached high school and met a savior of a friend.

Thomas didn't expect his high school life to be much different than any other years of school; he would trek through the years as another face swimming through the sea of bodies, unnoticed and unheard of. But that turned out wrong. It was one day in Mrs.Eisel's Biology class that Thomas met someone who would turn out to be a great friend, and even greater help to his family. His name was Alex Tremain and he was assigned to be partners with Thomas on a project. Alex was from the rich side of town, the side with the Super Nintendo back in the day. The two had to go to Thomas' house to work on a diagram of an animal cell for the project. Upon seeing the trash ridden, termite eaten shack in which Thomas lived, Alex could feel nothing but pity. After the project was over, Alex talked in secret to Thomas' parent about loaning them a few hundred dollars every month so they could at least get enough food to feed everyone. Thomas' parents were rather reluctant to become a charity case, but they couldn't refuse. Thomas caught wind of the donations that they were receiving. He wasn't to keen to the idea either at first, but warmed up to it once he found out he would be able to quit that awful job of his. But now Thomas was left with nothing to do after school, and he hated being home. So he sought after an after school activity. One thing caught his eye. Track and Field. It required virtually no prior experiences, besides knowing how to run of course. Thomas signed up and immeadiatly fell in love with it. He proved to be a faster runner than he thought, scoring a 4.60 on the forty-yard dash and a five minutes, thirty seconds on the mile. He got the nickname Flash on the track team, based off the popular superhero. Thomas was so happy that he finally found something that he enjoyed. And something that got him friends.

Fastforward a bit to the present day. Thomas is now an hardworking accountant that makes decent pay. He is married to a girl names Sylvia, who was on his track team. Together they have had two children, both girls, named Amanda and Adrian. Thomas thought he was living the good life. Until he was abducted and taken to Massacre City. He learned of what was going on, and what would happen if he didn't comply to the rules. He was outfitted with a silver collar and given seven days to commit a murder. Thomas spent six of those days in hiding. Knowing he would be sent to Hell for murder, he sai decided he would rather die. It wasn't until there was two hours left that another man, who had yet to meet the quota, stumbled across Thomas.

"Well, well! What have we here?" He said in a grungy voice. He picked Thomas up and shook him around a bit while Thomas pleaded for his life. The constant shaking caused Thomas' wallet to fall out of his back pocket. It was quickly noticed by the other man and snatched up. He took a peek in and something caught his eye. It was a picture of Thomas' wife. The man licked his lips while provoking Thomas "Man, oh man you have a sexy wife! To bad..She's gonna miss you" The man pulled out a blade and stepped closer to Thomas. "By the way, I think I'm gonna call up your wife when this is all over. Show her some fun from a real ma-..." The stranger was cut off mid sentence. It sounded like he was now gargling blood. There was a pocketknife stuck in the man's throat, weilded by none other than Thomas himself. His anger had taken the best of him, and he advanced to a Rook. Thomas has now decided that it's to late to turn back, and he's winning this game. No matter what the costs are.

Weapon:

Pocket Knife

Given to him by his father. Thomas never imagined he'd ever have to use it. Very sharp. Capable of piercing skin and puncturing vitals. Blade is roughly 4".

Legs

Thomas has incredibly strong legs thanks to his track days back in high school. One swift kick in the right spot can knock you out in an instant. Can also be used for a very speedy escape when needed
Other:

RP Sample:
From Pleasure Cruise

"Well, this is...adequate" Timothy Bellwood, a sharp-dressed twenty-seven year old, uttered with a hint dissapointment drifting along with his sentence. He had been waiting for this cruise for a few days now; mainly to releive stress that had been introduced by his recent seperation with his wife. She's a persistant one though. She hasn't stopped calling him since the seperation, so Tim thought this would be a relaxcing retreat for a while.

He fumbled around the lower potion of the ship for awhile, trying to find some guidance. It was then that he was stopped by one of the ship's crew. It was a rather husky man that stopped him; he also looked as if he had served a good time at sea. You just get that feeling when around a seasalt like him.

"You must be...Mr.Bellwood?" The man asked, glancing at a clipboard. It must've had some information about Tim on it for the man to know who he was.

"Yea, I am. Can you uh..Tell me where my room is by any chance?" Tim asked, fumbling his words a bit.

"As a matter of fact, yes!" The crewman replied, handing Tim a keychain with a shiny silver key and a worn piece of plastic hung on it. The keychain read, S.S.Maria, releaving you of all your life's troubles! Under the slogan was a half peeled off sticker that read Room 118.

"Thanks man, I'll be seeing you." Tim thanked the man with a small wave and started to head off. Until he was interupted, that is.

"Wait, wait!" The same, seafaring man from before called. "You must be in the ballroom at 3:30 for an important meeting! Don't be late!"

"Alright." Tim said giving a final wave and walking away.

Tim had never been on a cruise liner. So the size of it was pretty staggering to him. He traversed the ship for what seemed liked ages until he found room 118. He put the cold key into the lock and listened to the tumblers fall. The door had a nasty creak to it, most likely from aging.

The room itself was reminiscint of a hotel room. The bolted down bed that smelled of cheap cleaners and honeymoon lust, the TV that only had three stations, the digital clock that was always about fifteen minutes behind, and the bathroom that had all the mini-sized goodies. Tim threw his bags carelessly onto the floor and strutted into the bathroom for some grooming.

He quickly brushed his hair in the mirror, which was badly chipped and smudged. After his grooming, he decided to take a look at what freebies this cruise had to offer. Mini-shampoo, mini-conditioner, mini-hand sanitizer, even mini-cologne. He pocketed the sanitizer and cologne for later use. Always gotta be clean and smell good, right?

He walked out of the bathroom and sat down on the unusually stiff bed. He felt his phone vibrate and heard the polyphonic version of "Feel Good Inc." play. He took his phone out of his pocket to see just who could be calling when everyone who knows he's on vacation.

Incoming Call-
Tiffany

"Shut the hell up" Tim scowled at the phone with disgust filling his voice. He promplty hit the ignore button and laid back on the bed. It wasn't but a minute later that he got a text message, this time causing a polyphonic "Dirty Harry" to play.

1 New Message
Tifanny-
Hey bbycakes, y dont u anser my calls? i <3 u

Tim was about sick of this. He was supposed to be relaxing. He hit the "Reply" button to give this woman the point.

To: Tiffany
Message: STFU btch

He sent the message and closed his phone. The luminescant, green numbers glew in front of his face. 2:15

He let out a sigh as he dropped the phone on the bed. What the hell am I gonna do for an hour and fifteen minutes? He pondered as his eyes drifted shut...

 

[Swift!]

Name: Skylar Davis
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Rank: Pawn

Appearance: Standing at a solid 6'1' with a well built body and workman's tan, Skylar is a force to be reckoned with. His short brown hair is practically re-growth from his days he spent in the English Army, with the top part being just long enough for him to comb it over to the side. Thin eyebrows compliment his large, dark blue coloured, eyes and straight edge button nose. A crooked smirk is worn on his thin lips most of the time, unless he is lost in deep thought, and a "beard", of sorts, running along his jaw line brings you to the collar that has been fastened around his neck. His arms are thick and powerful, along with his chest and abs, with rough hands at the ends from days of working non-stop. There is an arch in his back, running inwards towards his buttocks, which has given him problems with his posture in the past. Strangely enough, compared to the rest of his body, Skylar as quite thin legs and small feet, but the muscles within them are just as powerful as those in his arms and hands, which allow him to run great distances when he needs to.

Skylar's attire usually consists of either a black or white tight t-shirt that really brings out the large muscles in his upper body. A pair of baggy blue jeans are held up by a rope, tied around his waist, but are sometimes swapped for a pair of black cargo pants with many pockets up and down the legs. His shoes are old, worn-out, white tennis shoes that Skylar has had for years and would wear them all the time before joining the army. As far as accessories go, Skylar has but one, a pair of dog-tags on a chain which are wrapped around his right wrist and were a parting gift from the English Army. It would be worth noting that Skylar has a bandage wrapped tightly around his upper right arm, from an unexpected encounter with another player.

Personality: Skylar is a quiet young man and often keeps to himself, but also can be quite lively; although that's usually just an act he's putting on for the people around him. He tends to wear an angry look on his face when out in public, which seems to make people avoid him and also return his "anger" with a look of disgust.

Friends were just objects to Skylar and he would usually just use them to make himself be noticed as someone who wasn't as mean as he looked, this didn't work most of the as he was judged solely by the way he looked, rather than the way he acted. If people really got to know him, they'd see that he was actually a very nice and intelligent young man, but he never got the chance to make a "true" friend because of his appearance.

Being shunned by most of humanity gave him time to learn about new things and being very curious made it even easier. He would sit in his apartment by himself and read books that he had borrowed from the library, finishing up to three books in one sitting. Although, every time he tried to share his new-found knowledge, he'd get the same reaction from the community and ended up deciding that he should keep everything he knew to himself.

History: Skylar was known as a loner back in high school and would always feel left out, even when he was part of a group, he didn't mind this though and really just preferred to do his own thing, which was usually just sitting by himself and thinking. Sure, he had a few girlfriends back then, but they were simply flings with girls that liked him for his good looks.

Being known as a loner or "the weird kid", he'd usually be on the receiving end of most jokes and pranks. The fact that he didn't react when people did these things to him just made them do them more often. This continued up until the end of school, when he decided not to go to college, but to join the army instead.

Skylar excelled as a recruit in the English Army and was praised by his commanding officer and team mates. These reactions made Skylar want to give his all every time and always do his best, which resulted in him graduating a year early and becoming a fully fledged member of the English Army.

Irish patrol was his first mission and he was immediately shipped off to Northern Ireland, where he was the most enthusiastic member of his team. Although, this enthusiasm made him treat his mission as one of utmost importance, when in fact it wasn't that big a deal and this resulted in Skylar receiving penalties due to overreacting.

One time, during a patrol of the streets, an angry Irishman started hurling rocks at the team and Skylar suddenly snapped into action, without warning he gunned down the disgruntled citizen. This caused the locals to go into a panic and a stampede of people began pushing their way through the team, in an attempt to get to safety.

After this "accident", Skylar was dishonourably discharged from the English army and sent back home, where he spent months by himself in his apartment. Until one morning he woke up and found that he was no longer at home, little more... no longer in London.

Weapons:
Led Pipe
Primary Weapon

Dog-Tags
Secondary Weapon

-----

Name: Kailee Miller
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Rank: Rook

Appearance: Standing at an average 5'5' with a muscular body and darkish skin tone, Kailee is a very deadly woman. Her long brunette hair flows beautifully down to her shoulders, with the bangs hanging into her face most of the time. Thin eyebrows compliment her large, dark coffee coloured, eyes and pretty little button nose. A lovely smile adorns her sweet lips nearly all the time, unless you make her angry or upset. She cleanly pointed chin which directs your attention to the collar that has been fastened around her neck for over a week. Her arms are thin and yet full of muscle, along with her abs, with small hands at the end that possess nails that any woman would kill for, and probably have tried to. Her posture is perfect and her spine runs nicely down her back, reaching her buttocks that few men have been given the pleasure of seeing. Kailee has powerful legs and small feet; the muscles within them are just as strong as those in her arms and hands, which allow her to run great distances and leap quite far.

Kailee's attire usually consists of a black tank top, which helps her to move about quickly without having to worry about having too much on. A pair of tight blue jeans are held up by a gold coloured belt, but are swapped for a pair of loose black track pants for when she is out on the "job". Her shoes are newly acquired, white and black sneakers that Kailee stole off of one of her kills. As far as jewellery go, Kailee wears little, a pair of diamond earrings that she happened to be wearing when she was brought to Massacre City and a couple of silver bangles, worn on each of her wrists.

Personality: Kailee is quite outgoing and often likes to be the centre of attention, but also can be quite withdrawn; although that's usually only when something terrible has happened in her life. She tended to wear a seductive look on her face when out in public, which was usually only at night, and made her a highly sought after young woman with the local men.

Friends were everything to Kailee and she would try to spend as much of her time with them as she could and was humanly possible, this was her favourite thing to do before she got kidnapped and it was what made her Kailee. Her friends would describe her as the girl who always had time for everyone and was always able to make new friends, which happened quite a lot.

Being sought after by all of her friends took up most of her time and would usually mean she didn't have time for anything else. When she did finally get some time to herself, she would stay at home by herself and read a good book while drinking a nice cup of warm English tea. Although, every time she tried to do this, she'd get interrupted by one of her friends heckling her to come out.

History: Kailee was known as the hot girl back in high school and always felt like she was being chased, even when she was alone, she didn't mind this though and really just preferred to do her own thing, which was usually just being seen as an icon of pure beauty and wonder. She had a fair few boyfriends back then, but that sometimes got her into trouble, especially when she had more than one at a time.

Being known as a beauty or "the hot girl", she'd usually be on the top of the list for parties and was always the first to be asked to a school dance. The fact that she was so poplular and didn't really do anything about it, soon made her hated by the "unpopular" half of the school. This continued up until the end of school, when she decided to skip college and head straight into working full-time.

Kailee excelled as the assistant to the Regional Director of a well-known fashion label and was praised by her boss and work mates. These reactions made Kailee want to work even harder, hoping that one day she'd make it to the rank of Regional Director. Although her boss did think highly of her, this day never seemed to come around.

Slowly she watched as the friends around her were promoted and, after two years, she decided to hand in her letter of resignation. Her boss was sad to see her go, but Kailee didn't care, if he really appreciated the work she did he would have promoted her. Out of work and unable to find a new job, Kailee soon found herself back in the hold of her high school friends, who took her to bars and night clubs in order to lift her spirit.

When she wasn't out with her friends, getting drunk and waking in puddles of god knows what, she was at home watching daytime television or working out for hours at a time. Kailee became a huge fan of "Dexter" and "CSI", a deadly combination for a woman in her state of mind. She began having nightmares of killing people, dismembering them and hiding the bodies in fear that she would be caught.

These nightmares continued for the bulk of a year and, on the night before she was taken to Massacre City, she had dream in which she finally payed for her sins, being shot through the heart by a dark figure as she disposed of her last victim.

Weapons:
Hunter's Knife
Primary Weapon

Zippo Lighter + Kerosene
Torture Device

RP Sample:

Spoiler:

Spoiler:

An Early Christmas Present (Oneshot)
The dying fire crackled weakly, heating the small wood cabin to the best of its ability, Hikari was sitting on the couch with her knees right up against her chest. Her bare feet were the only things not covered by a thick, fluffy white blanket that she had pulled right up under her chin. "It's f-freezing in here," she mumbled to herself, knowing that saying that wouldn't make it any warmer.

Suddenly, the cabin door burst open and a cold wind blew through, causing Hikari to nearly jump straight into the fire in desperation for some warmth. She turned her head slowly to see why the door was open anyway, but all she could see was the point of a pine tree sticking through into the cabin... she could, however, here quiet voices arguing outside.

With a groan, the freezing girl rose to her feet, not letting go of the fluffy blanket... which was now the only thing that supplied her with heat. She hobbled over to the open door, pulling tighter on the blanket as she drew closer, "What's going on?" she questioned, as she reached the door and peered outside, she spied her two friends... Kouki and Jun, trying to haul a giant tree into the cabin with little success.

Kouki and Jun raised their heads and smiled at Hikari, "Hey there!" said Kouki with a sheepish laugh, "Jun and I got the Christmas Tree," he pointed out, not that Hikari needed him to. Ignoring the cold girl, Kouki turned to Jun, "Ok, on the count of three... we're going to back up and run as fast as we can."

Jun nodded and got ready to proceed with the plan, but suddenly he realised that it was a terrible plan, "Wait!" he shouted, trying to get Kouki to stop. But, it was no use... Kouki was bending his knees and getting ready to execute his plan. Hikari's eyes widened when she realised that he was actually going to do it, with one swift leap... she flew onto couch for safety.

"3... 2..." counted down Kouki, despite Jun's efforts to stop him, "1!" he screamed, taking a step back before running full force at the open door. Kouki, Jun and the Christmas Tree made it in cleanly... but they also managed to crash into the wall, just as cleanly. The two boys groaned and rolled onto their backs as Hikari walked over, rolling her eyes at them.

"You two are such idiots," she pointed out, but they already knew that, "So, are you going to get it into the pot now?" she asked, making her way out of the living room and into the kitchen. Kouki and Jun groaned again, they were still in pain and they now had to put the tree into a pot and fill it with soil. It was definitely going to be a pain in the...

-----

Ten minutes, and a few failed attempts, later... Kouki and Jun finally got the tree upright in a large pot of soil without using their hands to keep it steady. They were both tired and dirty; all they wanted to do now was rest, so... they both crashed onto the couch with a sigh of relief.

Hikari giggled as she came skipping into the living room, a tray of hot chocolate held in her hands. She handed the boys a cup each and then took one for herself, with a little hop... she landed between her two friends on the couch, making sure not to spill her hot chocolate.

Kouki held his hot chocolate out of the way and reached down to pick up the fluffy blanket, he skilfully pulled it up and across to cover the three friends. Hikari smiled warmly at the gesture and Jun continued to sip at his hot drink. Kouki reached one hand under the blanket and walked it over to Hikari's, which he touched softly... making sure not to scare her.

Hikari could feel the touch of Kouki's cold skin against hers and she laced her fingers between his, before smiling at him with a small snicker. Jun didn't notice any of this going on though; he was too busy drinking his hot chocolate and gazing up at the Christmas Tree. "I think we should decorate it," he exclaimed, turning quickly to his friends... which caused them to stop what they were doing and face Jun.

Hikari smiled warmly at Jun, "That's a great idea!" she replied, letting her fingers slip away from Kouki's as she stood up swiftly, "Just as long as I get to put the star on top." Jun was the second one to stand up; he laughed at Hikari and nodded to assure her that she'd get to put the star on top.

Kouki sighed and rose to his feet, they had only just sat down a minute ago and now they were getting back up. But, that's what it's like with Jun as a friend, you can't be in one place for too long with him around. "Jun," he said, catching his friends attention, "Why don't you go and get the decorations? They're in the other room."

Jun hesitated for a second, but nodded at Kouki with a small, forced, smile, "Sure..." he mumbled, heading out of the living room and through the kitchen. Hikari began circling the Christmas Tree, trying to figure out the best way to decorate it... Kouki laughed at the girl and smiled as he watched her.

A couple of minutes later, Jun returned with the decorations, they were in a large cardboard box and it looked like there was more than enough to cover the tree. The teenage boy dropped the box beside the tree and put his hands on his hips, "So, what's say we get started?"

-----

"Keep it steady, Jun!" ordered Hikari, who was standing on a wobbly stool and trying to reach the top of the Christmas Tree. She was shaking back and forth, but that didn't stop her... she was determined to get the star on the top. With one quick jump, she landed the star on top and smiled happily... but, then the stool gave way and she started to fall.

"I got you!" assured Jun, letting go of the stool and jumping over to catch his falling friend. Luckily, Hikari fell straight into his arms and was unharmed, "That was close," said Jun, smiling at the scared girl cradled in his arms.

Hikari blinked a few times, trying to figure out what had just happened, when she finally did... she turned to Jun, "Oh Jun!" she screamed, hugging the boy tightly, "You saved me!" Hikari leaned her head out of the hug and planted a long kiss on the surprised boy's lips, before letting go and giggling... while still cradled in his arms.

Just then, Kouki walked into the living room with a plate of cookies in his hands, "Who wants cookies?" he asked in a loud voice, before spying Jun holding Hikari, "What's going on here?" he asked, seeing the knocked over stool, Jun's surprised face and Hikari's little smirk.

Hikari hoped out of Jun's arms and skipped over to Kouki, grabbing a fresh cookie of the plate, "Oh... nothing," she lied with a small laugh, "Jun just saved my life." Kouki raised an eyebrow and leaned to left, trying to see Jun.

"Is that true?" he asked, grabbing a cookie of his own and taking a big bite out of it. Jun shook his head and snapped back to reality, he turned and began walking towards Kouki and Hikari while scratching the back of his neck.

"It was nothing," he pointed out, taking the biggest cookie and shoving the whole thing into his mouth, "Jusht a shilly Chrishtmash relatshed accshident." Kouki could hardly make out what Jun was trying to say, but he didn't care... it was probably nothing of importance and, if it was, he'd find out about it soon enough.

Hikari finished off her cookie and looked up at the clock sitting atop the mantle, "Wow, its ten o'clock!" she exclaimed, causing Kouki and Jun to turn and look at the clock as well, "We'd better get to bed, or else Santa won't come and give us any presents!"

Jun quickly finished the cookie he was eating, his third, and grabbed another two, "You're right Hikari!" he shouted, his mouth full of cookie crumbs, "I'm going to bed before Santa comes!" With that, he flew up the stairs and into his room, the door slamming shut behind him.

Kouki laughed and finished his cookie off as well, taking the plate back into the kitchen and placing it in the sink. He turned to Hikari, who had followed him and smiled, "I guess we should be getting to bed as well."

Hikari nodded and the two began walking towards the stairs, but Kouki quickly stop and that made Hikari stop as well, "Look at that!" he exclaimed, pointing at a plant hanging from the ceiling, " I think it's mistletoe."

Kouki and Hikari's eyes met, "Well, it is the holidays..." said Hikari with a shrug, before leaning in and kissing Kouki's lips softly, "Merry Christmas," she whispered, running up the stairs quickly. Kouki stood by himself for a second; he began to raise his fingers to his lips, but stopped and headed off to bed as well.

 

[parallelzero]

Well I have no issues with anyone who's applied, though other than the friend of Loki who has yet to put her signup up yet, admissions are now closed.

I'll try and make the first post tonight, since my characters are done now.

 

[anakoni]

Here they are~ n wn Sorry for Yunhae's wall of a bio. XD It makes up for her crappy personality and appearance I hope. ; w;

Spoiler:

Name: Oshiro Masaharu.
Age: 19
Gender: Male.
Rank: Knight
Appearance:

They say not to judge a book by it's cover, but in Masaharu's case, one would probably be safer if they went with their first impression -- run away. Standing at a good 6'2", the man's height is absolutely ridiculous for his nationality. Because of this, he seems very intimidating and horrific. With broad shoulders and a long, slender body, he appears to have the stature appropriate for none other than a basketball player. His face is a little on the narrow side, his nose long and his chin subtly pointed. His complexion is comparable to that of faded parchment. Muscles are... not a main feature of his, but along his arms, stomach and legs, one can feel the small protrusions brought by fitness and hard work during his high school years. In other words, his limbs are toned. Atop his head lies a mess of dyed cobalt and sky blue strands, the bleached blonde and dark brown roots revealing themselves towards the top of his skull. Reaching almost his shoulders, his locks are choppy and sporadic; not one section is the same length as the other. Said strands are usually tied up into a pony tail held at the side, simply to keep the mess out of his eyes (though his violently uneven bangs are a continuous problem regardless) Surprisingly enough, his hair is soft and smooth to the touch, despite the fact that he doesn't do anything special to take care of it. His eyes are a soft shade of hazel, though surely more on the brown side, unless introduced to light of some sort -- at that point, the green hues really begin to shine. Specks of blue appear visible about his orbs, and the darkened rim around his pupil gives his eyes a larger appearance. Regardless of his natural color, his eyes seem to change shade almost daily -- colored contacts are just as much of a necessity as the colorful wristbands, bracelets and hair accessories that adorn the rest of him. Narrow and thick-lashed, his eyes seem dark and cold, but when he smiles and jokes around, the presumed callous facade disappears immediately. If anything, his crooked smile is his most comforting feature... and in some cases, it's too his most frightening.

His fashion sense isn't any less out there than his physical appearance. While he had always been a fan of suits and dress attire, his wardrobe is likely to be considered anything but. Though his suits take the shape of any regular old business wear, the brightly colored fabric and extravagant patterns would send any true entrepreneur running miles away. His favorite appears to be a black and turquoise hybrid -- on his left, the suit is white with a turquoise sleeve and white trim, and on the right, it's the exact inverse, however, the sleeves are often rolled up. Upon his wrists lie a plethora of colorful bracelets and bands that seem to change day to day. Beads of every color, small figurines dangling from charm bracelets and striped wristbands line up in what he likes to call a "chaotic mess." In his hair, he's known to adorn DIY hair clips and accessories -- like a rubber duck glued to a bobby pin, or a miniature toy dinosaur pinned behind a small, black bow. On his lazy days, the male remains as colorful as ever, with bright dress shirts (more often in shades of red or pink) and a pair of white or black dress pants. On his feet, he's almost always sporting a pair of cloth, turquoise, slightly mud-stained calf-high boots, buckled with a little white heart -- though the minuscule details are often hidden by his dark dress pants. There's almost never a day where his looks don't make him stand out from the crowd. No matter what he's wearing, however, the blood stains left over from his prior victims are almost always apparent.

Personality:

At first glance, one would assume that the male would be a very lovable individual. However, as one delves deeper, past the corny jokes and admirable social skills, Masaharu is a very dark and twisted man. Fairly outgoing and fearless, the male is never afraid to voice his opinion, whether it be against common belief or not. His confidence is a turn on to some, while to others, it makes him even scarier. With somewhat of a big mouth, he almost always says whatever's on his mind. Humorous and witty, he's always the one getting people to laugh, even in the hardest of times. Although his sense of humor is on the slightly darker side, he's usually able to get a chuckle or two, whether it be from sincere laughter or as an awkward laughter to clear the silence. Anything but serious, the male is always joking around, and sometimes, it's just not appropriate. However, Masaharu doesn't seem to take hints well (or perhaps he merely chooses to ignore them), and continues to laugh away, usually at others' expense. The man is almost like a child. Courageous and brave, he's always first to volunteer for things, especially towards things that are dangerous. It almost appears as if he has absolutely no regard for his life whatsoever -- as if he believes he's invincible. Surely, he acts as if he'll live forever. In addition, he's always very energetic, even in the latest hours of the night. Even when his body is fatigued, he appears to be as bouncy and candid as ever.

Though it isn't quite as overt as his other traits, Masaharu is probably one of the most selfish men in existence. He's always thinking for himself and of things that will help him in the long run. Constantly, he's questioning what use those around him could be (perhaps one of the only things he keeps to himself), and if he finds them worthless, he simply puts them on his kill list for a later date. As mentioned before, the male is quite the joker -- but more often than not, his jokes are anything but appropriate. He seems to have absolutely no respect for anybody, living, dead or otherwise. Anything is open game for him to pick fun at, particularly the sensitive areas. Odd and strange are both words often used to describe Masaharu's outlook on life. His beliefs and goals are anything but within the norm, and most of the time, his individuality isn't a good thing. While others believe the glass is half full, his eyes can only see the half that's empty. Cynical, pessimistic and anything but trusting, his outward optimism is merely a shell to cover the poison that lies inside of him. The laughter he spreads, the friendships he develops, all of them are simply to help him progress and survive. He cares not about the safety or well-being of others, but rather, his own personal gain and entertainment. Blood fascinates him, and dead bodies make him smile. The sound of crushing bones and the squelching of disabled organs are music to his ears. While Masaharu calls it determination and perseverance, most call it pure insanity.


History:

Most fairytales begin with a pair of star-crossed lovers, set apart by fate but ultimately, brought together after facing hardships aplenty; in the case of Masaharu's parents, only the first part remained true. Oshiro Tatsuya, Masaharu's father, was a man who had lived on the streets for almost all of his life, while his mother, Futsugumi Kaniri, was a woman of high status and wealth. Kaniri had always been a rebel and was always trying to break off from her parents' secluded views of the world, and one night, she had sneaked out to roam the streets of Tokyo. After a long night of wandering about, she had found herself in a dire situation with three men, tied up in an alleyway. It was then that Tatsuya came to the rescue, defeating the villains with a few swift swipes of a pocket knife and easily, he rescued the damsel in distress. It hadn't taken long for the two to fall into a typical teenage love... and naturally, Kaniri's parents were anything but approving. The more they told her to stay away from the street rogue, the closer and closer they became, before Kaniri came home with news that she was pregnant. It was then that her parents locked her up, not allowing her to leave her room until she was to give birth (as she refused to go through with an abortion, which, again, was anything but delightful to her parents.) It was decided that the child would be given up for adoption instead. Upset with their decision, Kaniri decided that she would do anything to keep the child with her and it's father... even if it cost her her life. A few days before she was to go into labor, the woman stopped. For six days, she ate nothing drank nothing, and barely slept, merely sitting in her bed and waiting for labor to come upon her. When the time came, the birth sapped what lite life she had left in her body, and within hours after baby Masaharu's arrival, the woman died. With the sacrifice of her life, the child would be able to stay with it's father, who had gotten a stable job and a small apartment by the time he was born. Kaniri's intentions never became apparent to Masaharu's father -- in fact, Tatsuya continuously blamed himself for Kaniri's death. He felt as if it were his fault; that if he could have saved her from her abusive and cruel parents, she would be alive to see her baby boy grow up. Even in his own death, he pinned the blame on himself.

Though Masaharu had grown up with a roof over his head and a bed to sleep on, he and his father were anything but well off. Not only did they have to steal most of their food and other necessities, (as his father's jobs were anything but well-paying, and the man was more often unemployed than not) but his father's mental health slowly deteriorated over time. By the time Masaharu was six, his mother's death became nothing but a joke. "You must have grown in poison," His father would always say with an unpleasant laugh as he patted the child. Eventually, Masaharu became entirely desensitized to death. It didn't frighten him, but rather, it fascinated him. The story of his mother's death, along with the stories of shootings in the ghetto and bloody bodies found in lakes brought him more joy than anything else the average high schooler took pleasure in. He loved to hear the tales of demise and bloodshed, and slowly, he began to crave the power of destroying others and creating the tales of human destruction. The subject in entirety became nothing but a joke. For a long time, he planned the demise of his father, but only a few nights before Masaharu would have had the chance, the male took his own life when his son was a mere eighteen year old. Rather than feeling upset, he was angry. The man was selfish -- by taking his own life, he wouldn't be around to spread the tale, and therefore, his life was ruined. More and more, Masaharu craved the power to destroy those around him and create stories of interest and disgust for others to enjoy. A few months after his father's death, the rumor of a town filled with crime and death reached his pierced ears. It hadn't taken him long to make the move towards Morotsuka, and immediately, he found his first victim -- a homely college student who had simply found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. After a few more kills, he found himself caught up in the town's morphed game of cops and robbers. It was after he got his collar that his kills became vital to him, which made them all the more exciting. All of his dreams of bloodshed and excitement had come true almost over-night. His life had become his own twisted fairytale.

Weapon:

Screwdriver/Wrench -- If he ever needs a little oomph added to his murder, he's always quick to use a screwdriver, wrench, or any other sort of ordinary house tool. They're easy to find, easy to clean and easy to dispose of.

His bare hands - Masaharu much prefers the sensation of blood on his palms to anything else.

Other: From time to time, Masaharu smokes, but only if he's stressed. He's also very, very claustrophobic.

RP Sample: o wo; It won't let me post my samples from Gaia cuz I haven't made fifteen posts... so I'll copy/paste one. XD Beware the wall~ o wo;

Yuka quietly nodded as the groups were split up, happy to see that Shiori was on the team... and as the group split up, she felt sort of uncomfortable being paired with the quietest of the group.. He hadn't said much at all since the day before. She herself tried sparking conversation as they reached their destination... usually by sticking to the case talk, like what she had found out and other such things but he didn't seem too interested... They ran around quite a bit -- two of the clients they tried to get to weren't home, and the other had already hired the highschool detective... it was a rather disappointing day. Lunch time rolled around and the two stopped at a small cafe to get something to eat, and she sighed, brushing her purple locks back and glancing down at the table. "I... I guess since we haven't talked to any of our clients, I might as well speak up. I... I want to solve this case because I know they're not suicides. My cousin... he didn't kill himself. I know he didn't. Takuya was always so happy... especially as of late... he seemed to have a lot more confidence in himself. And... he and I got in an argument one night when he came over to visit, and he stormed out..." She paused as the waitress arrived with coffee, and Yuka smiled, nodding as the woman headed off again. "And... I saw him get carried off by two large men. It was night time and too dark too see their faces. The next morning... I saw on the news that his body had been found and I tried telling the police department that he had been murdered, but they wouldn't listen... so I have to solve this case. ...But don't you start feeling sorry for me, or I swear to ****ing God..." Her soft voice turned harsh quickly as she leaned back some, another mood swing taking place. Her cousin had been her best friend, even through childhood... whenever she was having trouble with her parents, he was there for her. Whenever she cried, he was the only one who had hugged her... and it hurt her to see him go. Eventually, the food arrived and Yuka glared up at the waitress. "About ****ing time," The woman looked a little taken back but hurried off with a smile nontheless... Yuka's hostility faded once again and a large smile appeared on her face. "I wonder if the others are having any luck?"

Higuchi, though somewhat disappointed he didn't get to spend the day with one of the cute-figured girls, figured that he would work much better alone. And he did -- he had gotten to speak with three famlies of the victims... and unfortunately, got the same responses from all three. Suicide was unimaginable, they were so happy... but one key thing led to their connection -- all of the victims had been seen with both minor and serious injuries -- injuries they had never gotten before on a normal basis, or so said their families. Though it wasn't much of one, the computer-loving male took this as the largest lead he had and for the moment, was satisfied. He stopped off at a pastry shop, figuring he deserved a break.. when a smaller blonde had tapped him on the shoulder. He smiled... she couldn't see without her glasses, could she... He read off the sign and watched her order some things... and continued to watch her fail miserably at opening the door. Laughing some to himself, he held the door open for her with one hand, while grabbing some of the bags and things with his other, 'accidently' rubbing his hand past the decently sized little lumps on her chest. "Allow me to help you out, sweetheart~" And he grinned holding the boxes and bags in his arms and smiling down at her, insisting she led the way. Ishigaki was a bit more nervous around the partner he had been assigned with -- she was a woman, and a woman he didn't know nontheless... and every now and then, he began speaking nervously, just to fill the silence... though he knew he sounded like nothing but a babbling idiot... nevertheless, he smiled, and tried communicating while they drove on. "T-Tsukino-san... h-how did you meet Maruyama-san? Just out of curiousity... she said you two were good friends!" He merely asked the question with hopes to start a conversation... if the entire force was familiar with each other they would get things done faster...

As soon as she felt herself free from the vile man's metallic grip, she lifted her fist and prepared herself for a little brawl... until she heard him say the word fat. Her hostility dropped noticably and her eyes almost became blank... She blinked some when she felt a strong force on her arm; Hideki held her, leaning in to whisper a little. "Look," And he gently nudged his head in the direction of the opposing team, frowning. Natsumi tried to look angry... but she couldn't get the word out of her head. Fat... he had called her fat... Miyako said she had looked like she had lost a lot of weight but... apparently the red head had just been lying to make her feel better. This man didn't even know her.. and her eyes softened, her body growing hostile once more. "Don't ****ing touch me, Asuo," The pink haired man released her immediately and watched the girl storm ahead... she obviously didn't want to stay around and converse any longer. She didn't know the blonde's name... but surely, the next time she saw him there'd be trouble... as for now, she was absolutely and utterly mortified with herself. Fat... she was still fat... and she needed to try harder. She needed to eat less and visit the bathroom more... she just... she didn't want to worry Miyako and she didn't want to get caught. Miyako... stood by Hideki's side, who politely excused the three of them from the conversation and followed the brunette from behind. Miyako frowned... she was glad that she didn't hit the blonde man back in the resteraunt but... she was also worried that she didn't. She didn't hit him so that meant something was wrong... Hideki smiled at the younger girl, placing a hand on her head and trying to comfort her by starting a light conversation about... well, whatever teenage girls liked. Boybands, candy, cartoons... all of which Hideki enjoyed himself... and up ahead, they could hear Natsumi cursing. Hideki and Miyako assumed it was just towards the blonde male... but she was only telling her body how worthless it was. Eventually, the three ended up back at the two girls' apartment and the three stepped inside. Natsumi headed straight for the bathroom, and Hideki frowned. He... already believed he had a good grasp on what was going on, but kept his mouth shut as not to worry the younger female or get the brunette worked up. Miyako got the both of them something to drink and echoed down the hallway to Natsumi, who had shut the door. "Nana-tan, can Asou-san stay here tonight? I think... we should talk about that offer that was given to us!" It took a while for the brunette to respond, but reluctantly, she let out a cold yes. The red-head smiled. "You can sleep in my room tonight, Asuo-san, I'll sleep on the couch," The pink haired man sat next to her on the sofa and shook his head. "I'll sleep on the couch, it's okay. And we've been teammates for a long time now -- it's okay to call me Hideki, if you'd like," The red-head smiled and nodded a little... and the male perked an eyebrow. She seemed so much sweeter when the brunette wasn't around...

And so after the brunette's long trip to the restroom, the three discussed their plans and finally decided that it would be in their best interest to take up the offer and cooperate with the other team... if only for a little while. Double the money meant they wouldn't have to play as long as they had expected and... all three could reach their dreams faster. And morning arrived... and as if someone had read their mind, another game invitation showed up in the mail, inviting them to... a subway station? Hideki frowned -- all of their games had been set in abandoned, vacant places but he knew for sure that this subway was still up and running... he took it every day to get home. Frowning, the three eyed each other and simply prepared themselves for the day... and the match ahead... packing three guns and their CD away in their bag. The team members on the other side of town were entirely unaware of what they were in for... The night prior, Nobu had been quite entertained by the little showdown he had witnessed at the door of his apartment... In all honesty, he had just picked up the slut off of the street and she had promised him a good time... he had done better but it was good enough for a temporary release. His eyes, however, landed on the pair of obviously larger breasts standing in his doorway as the other woman tried her hardest to make hers look larger... and the ghost of a smirk appeared as he listened to her complain. He said nothing, watching her open her door and he peered in, seeing nothing but clean walls and floors. He laughed to himself as he ushered the little whore out. "How ironic... I have a neat freak for a neighbor..." He woke up to the sound of his cellphone ringing the next morning, flipping it open to hear a certain red-head's voice. He smirked. "It's been a while, Mishiba-san. You're so isolated I had thought you got hit by a car," Toki didn't seem to appreciate his sarcasm very much. "We have a game today. Meet up with Saitou-san and I at the subway... you should have gotten a letter with the address inside. I've already contacted Saitou-san so just hurry up and get here." And then the phone clicked dead. Sighing slightly, he stood, scratching his head and frowning, figuring it'd be okay to wear the same jeans he had slept in (they were probably a lot cleaner than most of the clothes he had lying around on the floor), and he picked up a shirt that was hanging over his couch. Slipping it on, he lit a cigarette and was out the door. After the three men had met up, they boarded the train they were expected to board... and waited. The three had already put up with a battle like this beforehand... though the train was a lot more crowded than a beer garden...

(two more paragraphs emitted due to size)

Spoiler:

Name: Choi Yunhae.
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Rank: Rook
Appearance:

A girl of soft features, Yunhae is small, delicate, yet anything but fragile. At a short height of 4'9", the girl stands shorter than most of the other people who surround her. Though she's thin, the girl surely has a set of curves that get the guys' eyes bugging. Her hourglass shape protrudes her lady lumps nicely, and because of her structure, she naturally walks with a sway in her step, causing her hips to rock back and fourth with each step. Her skin, a softened tan, is free from flaw, save for a few minor, colorless bumps or two hidden among her hairline. Her eyes, a bright brown in hue, are large and oblong, bringing out a childish nature in her face -- though often, they're hidden behind a pair of white-rimmed glasses. Her nose is round and small, docile and feminine, and to top it all off, her lips are plump and often a soft pink color, due to the small amount of lipgloss she applies daily. Her dark, auburn hair falls to the middle of her back, but is often tied into a pair of braids that lie at her shoulders, her bangs sweeping over her left eye. Though the girl is much past the regular age, a pair of silver braces adorn her teeth. As a child, she was too frightened to even consider placing the metal death traps on her teeth, but as an adult, she realized that said decision was silly. Though others would be embarrassed to sport them at such an adult age, she doesn't mind, because people often mistake her for a teenager anyway -- the addition of braces would only further prove their assumptions and not cause a big stir.

Her closet is filled with all sorts of color and variety (though not quite as eccentric as others...) Generally, the girl likes to sport a solid-colored tanktop, layered with a gray or white jacket and a pair of light blue jeans, but is known to switch it up every now and then by adding a pair of legwarmers and a skirt or a pair of cute bows at the ends of her braids. She isn't very fond of skirts and tends to avoid them unless preparing for a formal situation, and even then, she'll wear dress pants, if she can get away with it. Accessory wise, she isn't one to stray much farther than a necklace and a few, simple bracelets -- though if she really wants to switch it up, she'll change the color plates in her braces or get a different pair of glasses to throw in with her outfit. Though she generally tries to look presentable, her looks aren't really all that important to her.

Personality:

Appearing almost shy at first glance, Yunhae is a very quiet girl around those she doesn't know. She generally keeps to herself around strangers, but it doesn't take too long for her to open up to somebody, and when she does, her true colors begin to show. Though she's fairly friendly, the girl gets angry much too easily and is known to hold grudges for the smallest things -- however, most of the time, they're short-lived. Hotheaded and quicktempered, some believe that she gets angry just for the sake of being angry. Just as easily as she gets angry, she gets over things and goes back to being the happy, friendly girl. She has almost no sense of humor in the sense that... she's very bad at telling jokes, and is very slow at getting the punch line a good majority of the time. Rash and impulsive, she seems to make decisions on a whim without thinking things through a good majority of the time. This often gets her into a lot of trouble, but she regrets absolutely nothing. She sees every day as a new adventure and faces each morning with a smile, despite the unpleasant things that go on behind the scenes.

History:

It was raining that day.

She remembered clearly, to the very last detail, the happenings of the day, down to the last frown-causing wrinkle on her mother's face. Down to the last pebble she stepped on as she made her way up to the door step. Down to the very last speck of dirt on the large sign that read "ORPHANAGE" in big, bold letters.

But perhaps starting from the very beginning would have made more sense. Her mother and father were typical, hormone-raged teenagers from Seoul, and it was summer break. Naturally, a summer romance emerged. Party-hard and ready for anything, the two thought they had the entire world in their hands...and it was one of the most amazing summers in the world. The two had decided to be married by the time the summer had ended, and Lena, Yunhae's mother, had decided to drop out of school while her father, Kangdae, who had already finished high school, would go out and work. The plan seemed perfect and fool proof, and so, the young and blinded by love female went along with the plan without a worry in the world. Lena came from a very well-off and rich family, and was assuming that her parents would be completely okay with the plan...well, she was wrong. The moment her parents found out she was married, they cut her off from everything. No more credit cards and no more access to any of her parent's large wealth. At least, not until she gave up everything to do with the man and went back to school. But being a stubborn girl, Lena figured that both she and her new husband would be fine on their own. ...Until she got pregnant. It was about six months after the marriage, and things were going smoothly. Kangdae had gotten a steady job and was making enough money to keep the bills paid, while Lena was teaching herself how to sew and tailor clothes, something she had always wanted to learn to do. But after a while, she found out that she had a new, baby girl on the way...and she was excited. Kangdae seemed alright with the plan too, but... Lena saw that the farther into the pregnancy they got, the more he secluded himself, and the later he stayed out at night. Eventually, she saw that he was beginning to come home drunk at night, but only after the little baby Yunhae had long been born. Things were becoming harder; no longer could Lena learn to sew and tailor like she had planned, no. She had to take care of the baby, and she had to do it alone, for her husband was at work all day and at bars a good portion of the night. Money was becoming more and more scarce until things started getting out of hand.

It was around then that Kangdae began showing violent tendencies. He would come home drunk, and if Lena did even the slightest thing to upset him, he'd throw a fist in her face. At that point, she knew she had to get out of the relationship, but there wasn't much of a choice for her. Lena wanted her daughter to know and have a relationship with her father, even if that risked her own safety...that, and she really loved Kangdae with all of her heart and didn't want to leave him...she wanted to help him. But no matter what she did, things only got worse and worse. His violent punches soon became kicks and kicks became throwing large, heavy objects at the woman and causing her to go to the hospital with a concussion. Yunhae's last recollection of her father is watching he and her mother fight over something, most probably the bills. The man thrust himself towards the woman, grabbing her hair and yanking it from her head, and at that point, Yunhae knew she had to act. She ran up to her father and clung to his leg, hoping it was enough to avert his attention long enough to help her mother run away...but the woman didn't take the chance. Instead, her father began shaking his leg in hopes of getting the young girl off, and when that failed, he pushed her to the ground with a loud smack, followed with a thump, then continuing to smack her with the belt he had removed from his waist. Yunhae hit the ground pretty hard and closed her eyes, hoping that pretending to be passed out would save her from being hit again. She remembers hearing her mom sob loudly, and moments later, the door slammed shut. Her mother came rushing over to her, shaking her awake, and then telling her, "I'll be back, okay?! I'm going to try and calm daddy down!" And for what seemed like days, the little girl sat in her bedroom and waited, tears streaming down her face as she hoped and prayed for the best, a small, pink, stuffed rabbit in her arms for the entire time. She only hoped that her mother was okay and that her father was calm enough to not hit either of them. It was a good seventeen hours before her mother finally returned, and naturally, the little girl was tired, hungry and terribly lonely. But regardless, the younger Yunhae hopped over to her mother, short locks bouncing with every step, with a large smile asking how she was and where daddy was. Her mother, drenched in rain and make-up smeared with tears, only opened her mouth to say one thing. "He's dead," Little Yunhae had been seven years old when she had attended her father's funeral three weeks later.

And life moved on. Her father may have been squished by a semi-truck while wandering aimlessly after hitting her mom, but her mother seemed to change after his death. Of course, Yunhae saw this as a horrible, horrible thing, but her mother kept referring to it as 'mixed blessings.' At that time, Lena once again returned to her parents in hopes of receiving some help, but once again, Lena was turned down. So, she got a job as a house keeper, the only thing she could do with her minimal education. She and Yunhae stayed with old high school friends until they themselves couldn't take care of the mother and child, and eventually, Lena was making enough to rent a small apartment and get by. Bills and things weren't too hard...no, it was the emotional strain on Lena that made everything worse. Whenever she looked at Yunhae, she saw everything she had lost. The little girl was the cause of her lost husband, her dearest and closest lover. And whenever she looked at the litle girl, she saw her as an obstacle. If it wasn't for her, Lena could have gone back to school and become successful, just like all of her friends were around her. Her mother simply could not see the bright side of keeping her young daughter. And so, the woman had her mind made up. Hand in hand, Lena and Yunhae walked from their apartment all the way to the other side of town; there weren't any public buses at the time and they didn't own a car. And the entire way, Lena seemed to ignore Yunhae completely...although, the little girl didn't seem to let that bother her. The auburn haired teen would continue to ramble on about school and other things, all the while, Lena was mumbling under her breath and biting her tongue to prevent her from crushing the little girl's hand. She had always been a selfish girl, only doing what she saw as right for her...and she was more than anxious to drop the little nuisance off and get on with her life. As they approached the orphanage, Yunhae began to question her mother's intentions. "Where are we going, mommy? Is there something wrong?" Her mother didn't say a word until they reached the door step of the orphanage, and once Yunhae caught sight of the sign, she felt warm tears pour down her cheeks, sniffling as her mother kneeled down to her level, a sinister smile on her face. "I hate you, my dearest Yunhae. You've ruined everything for me," Yunhae could remember her mother's tone and laugh exactly. "You took Kangdae away from me, and you took away my dreams. I don't want you -- nobody does," Lena didn't even bother ringing the door bell to the orphange or anything...she just left. Confused and cold, the smaller girl's hand reached out for her mother as she called out, "Momma, what are you doing?! No, please don't leave me!! I'll be good, I promise!" And Yunhae remained on the door step, sobbing as she stood, soaked wet, until the orphanage's director finally came out and allowed the girl inside.

It was raining that day.

Yunhae lived the rest of her life moving from orphanage to orphanage. They deemed her antisocial when she refused to talk to the other children and partake in activities, and she was constantly placed elsewhere in hopes she would open up to new people. Because she moved around a lot, she was given the ability to live in new places, to experience new cultures. She took interest in languages and cuisine immediately, and as she grew to the ripe age of eighteen, she headed to culinary school to persue the career of a chef, taking language classes and traveling abroad in her free time. She graduated from school and was able to speak fluent Korean (her native tongue), English, French and Japanese. Immediately she was able to find herself a job at a small town's restaurant, and slowly worked her way up to the higher ranks of the culinary field... until one night, when she was away in Japan to attend a conference for aspiring and professional chefs to give a small speech, she woke up in an odd town rather than her hotel room with some sort of collar around her neck. After being informed of the game she had been thrown into, she had killed someone immediately, not even realizing that she had taken the life of another... it pained her. She... didn't think that she could do it again, but if she didn't, she'd die...

Weapon:

Toaster -- She uses her simple, two slice toaster as a flail of some sorts, clutching it by it's cord and spinning it around, using the actual machine to beat her victims.
Cheese grater -- One of her more morbid choices of weapons, used as a last resort due to the mess it makes.
Butcher knife -- The simplest, cleanest killing weapon she has.
&Other kitchen utensils -- whatever's available in her kitchen can and will be used to defend herself.

 

[Sublime]

Just a heads up, I'll be getting my post up today; but don't expect many more posts after that till the weekends.

I'll be grounded >_>

EDIT:
This is what I get for procrastinating.
I'll be on next weekend. But not during the week.
Post will be up then.

Don't worry, I'm not this bad with RPs all the time. I've just had stuff going on.

 

[Aurafire]

Before I make my next post, I just had a question. When you get close to another player, is that when your collar beeps? And if so, is that the only way of knowing of another players presence besides the obvious visual method? =o

 

[Sublime]

It seems as if Loki made it to when her collar beeped, a player died.

So I would assume that's normal for all of us?

 

[Loki]

No, when you scan their collars with your palm pilot, that's when it beeps- though anakoni kind of omitted that from her post, and I omitted it from mine to go with the flow.

I generally got the impression that it beeped when you scan someone, or when it's confirming that you've killed another player. At least from David's post anyway.

 

[Swift!]

I need to know something for me next post, B★RS.

Are the collars waterproof? I assume they are, but I'd like a confirmation.

Also, am I allowed to post whenever I want? As long as I don't double post.

 

[parallelzero]

Well... yeah, they would have to be for people to live using them. XD

And you can post whenever, but remember there are a lot of members in this RP, so have some moderation and don't take off without everyone else, especially me since sooner or later I'll need to start moving the plot.