Poll

Does The Logo Need More Work?

Yes friend, Now Get Back To The Kitchen!
14 (70%)
No, The Logo Is Delicous
4 (20%)
IDK
2 (10%)

Total Members Voted: 20

Author Topic: Hollow City - RP  (Read 7286 times)


Back Story
January 15th, 2024
     Journal Entry 272: Earth is dying... No that's not the right way to put it. Perhaps... Recycling itself? Yes that's it. Earth is killing off the old for the new. Temperatures have dropped drastically, water sources vanish without a trace, vast climate changes have been occurring, Earth is healing itself. All that remains of us is the ashes of the concrete jungles we left behind as proof that we had been at fault. Some of us have been spared the horror though. But those who survived were pitted into a new type of hell. A ravaging war for survival. What will humans do to survive? The question is what will they NOT do.

Rules
- Be reasonable, you're not a total badass.
- Collaborate well, don't hog the show.
- Try to use proper grammar and expand your vocabulary please.
- Be mature and friendly.
- Have fun!

Character
Follow this format.

Name: Yo Name, Foo
Status: Are you healthy or are you about to drop dead?
Age: How old are you?
Description: What do you look like? Ugly or a lovey beast?
Equipment: What's you packin, dawg?

Type ["hr"] without the quotations.

Write your RP here!
« Last Edit: December 30, 2010, 01:45:02 PM by keonesan »

Name: John
Status: Healthy
Age: 17
Description: (My avatar, nuff said.)
Equipment: M9 (4 Rounds), Trailmix, Notebook



I gaze out the shattered window as I wrap the jacket tighter around me as the bitter air begins to envelope my body. My eyes wander around the office as my imagination begins to take control. I begin frantically drawing sketches into my notebook, ideas on what the office looked like before everything happened. My hand sharply draws and draws as I become lost in an artist's rhythm. Finally, I stare at the final product as I observe the vivid details. I let out a sigh as I slam my notebook shut. Drawing, one way to take your mind off of all this stuff. I silently stand up and exit the building in search for more supplies.


Name: Johnny 5
Status: POWER: [|||||||||X]
Age: I AM A LIVING BEING.
Description: DEFINITELY A LIVING BEING AND NOT A ROBOTIC VESSEL.

Equipment: A candy bar, Self-repair kit, P.R.C. manual, A monocle.



...

...

CHECKING FOR SUFFICIENT POWER...

...

SYSTEM BOOTING UP...

POWER ON.

| POWER: 90% | SPEECH RECOGNITION: ON | SETTINGS |

IDENTIFYING STATE OF SURROUNDINGS...

STATE YELLOW, POSSIBLE SIGNS OF DANGER...

DANGER:NOUN:HAZARD, TROUBLESOME SITUATION:JEOPARDY, INSTABILITY, INSECURITY, VULNERABILITY, etc...

.....

COMMANDER CONSOLE INITIATED.

> TEMPERATURE_

TEMPERATURE: 23'

> ACTIVATE WALKABOUT.EXE

ACTIVATING MOTOR FUNCTIONS...


Great idea, both of you.

Name: Warren
Status: Healthy, but bruised and cut
Age: 31
Description: 5'10", 160lbs. Blonde. Brown eyes. Tan skin. Serious facial features.
Equipment: A backpack full of sentimental objects, notably pictures of family, old Hot Wheels, and other items useful in Earth's past. A radometer. A portable DVD player with a selection of small old animated movies (battery powered). A small handgun with a bit of ammo.



I walk along the 5th St. sidewalk, my mind dwelling on what my next move will be. To be totally honest, I don't have a clue. I think longingly to myself how nice it would be to have a companion and a vehicle of some sort. The river to my right is patchy, bits of land scattered with debris where the river once flowed strong and clear but is now green and unhealthy. The road is broken and covered in debris of the crumbling brownstones. The crunch of gravel beneath my boots is putting me to sleep as the questions continue to overwhelm me - why am I alive? Why does it seem everyone else is dead? What am I going to do?
« Last Edit: December 30, 2010, 03:49:03 AM by Caution »

Name: Nonnace Malf
Status: Awesome
Age: Around his teens
Description: (5'6", 110lbs.)
Black "Lone Wolf" hair, buck teeth, black glasses with no bottom frame,  black, short sleeved jacket, layered above a grey shirt with a dragon decal on it, faded, denim pants rolled up a little on the bottom, busted up black shoes with patches.
Equipment:
(Pocket #1) Pencil
(Pocket #2) Crumpled up pieces of paper (x7)
(Bottom Pocket #1) Wallet (31 $)
(Bottom Pocket #2) Nothing

I walk around my room in the "Django Del Sol" Apartments located at 6169, 5th St. in room 18. The sun glows upon my desk as I attempt to finish my paper plane model I have bought from the Store across the street. "Damn it," I said to myself out loud. "I broke a piece." Paper planes are my hobby. They remind me that someday I'll be able to leave this hell hole and return to my home in Vensgard. (although I don't know that it has already been destroyed by Earth) Nonetheless, I finally completed my paper plane. I threw it as a test, and due to me stupidity the plane flew out the window and landed on the ground. I went down the flight of stairs and went to receive my plane, and then all of a sudden I saw a bullet fl right by me. It's that damn mafia, the one that's keeping me here. Why you ask? Well, my friend was being held by the mafia, and the only way for him to leave their grasp was for me to give myself in, in return for my friend. I ran back inside and peeped my head out of the window, and saw two tall men with magnums standing outside of the craft store staring at me. I have no idea what to do now.
« Last Edit: December 30, 2010, 02:27:29 AM by Flamecannon »

I can so easily get into this. <3

I walk further along 5th St. with no real destination. I haven't seen another human soul since the disaster and I seriously begin to consider that I may be one of the last few members of the human race. I keep pace but I jump immensely when I hear the gunshot of a powerful gun go off maybe a few blocks ahead. I instinctively bolt and duck behind a car overturned in the middle of the intersection. I feel through the windowless holes in the car door and I try see what made the noise. A new excitement overcomes me but is immediately shot down when I realize whatever shot the gun might be hostile. I run over to the right side of the street where the brownstones begin again between the river and the street and peer around the corner once more. I see two men dressed in dirty black clothes standing on the sidewalk peering across the street. What are they doing?

Scanning my room surroundings I lightly smack my TV (Damn thing never got a reception in the first place) and pull part of my curtain off. I wrap the curtain gently around one side of the glass from the TV to make a makeshift knife. As of my knowledge there really is no owner of the apartment so I do it without care. I then enter my apartment's kitchen and remove one part of the wooden counter that has been loose all these months. It's strong, yet bendable. With the other materials around me I was able to create 4 arrows and a bow. I pack my rucksack and sneak slowly to the front door of the apartment building. Scared out of my live I charge my makeshift bow...

Equipment:
(Pocket #1) Pencil
(Pocket #2) Crumpled up pieces of paper (x7)
(Bottom Pocket #1) Wallet (31 $)
(Bottom Pocket #2) Nothing
(Rucksack) 3 makeshift arrows, Cheetos bag (I'm not sure if this has expired or not)

I place my ear closely to the door. The two men are having idle chat.
"Why is this boy so goddamn important, he's practically a wimp, a nerd!"
"Well ....(This guy's accent is hard to understand) ... bounty...... son of....."
I decided not to listen, my ears already hurt from the gunshots. And it's kinda hurting my morale.
« Last Edit: December 30, 2010, 02:59:50 AM by Flamecannon »

I continue to watch intently on the men. They each appear to be holding guns in their hands, though quite lazily. They appear to be talking to each other quietly and keep glancing and pointing up to the second story of a small apartment building. On the top, etched in the stone, appears to read "Django Del Sol." I finish taking in the details as the feeling in my stomach gets stronger. I whip off my pack and pull out my small 10mm handgun and a few rounds, not knowing what to expect next. I pop them in and rooster it and hold it steadily in my hand. Suddenly I hear a loud crash. I peer over rusty and dirty old cars parked parallel along the street and I see a young kid rushing out of the building. The men in black begin shouting at each other and raise their guns. The kid appears to be wielding an odd object of some sort and seems to be holding it in such a position as to shoot something, though what exactly, I don't know. As the guns raise in the men's hands, I raise my own firearm and aim it straight at the man nearest me. The kid releases an object from his contraption and a gleaming shard rockets towards the further man, who suddenly jolts. A loud bang comes from in front of me and I soon realize I just shot my own gun. The other man in black shudders and peers towards me. It appears to be a good distraction; he looks towards me as the kid plants a shard in the man's chest as the other sinks to the ground. I watch the entire scene satisfied. I hope I made the right decision as I pop a few more bullets into my gun, just in case I didn't.

I'm a nerd, and I know it. But.. that mafia had just gotten me angry with rage. This is really the first time I killed someone. But it's a dog eat dog world. Moving my attention, I realize that there were other shots fired during that time. Is there another mafia member after me? I don't want to risk dying. I run down the street as fast as I can. From 5th st. to Jeri-- the sign is busted, cut off halfway. If my belief is correct this is the most dangerous street. (what I have heard from the arts and crafts seller is probably correct) Dead bodies lay upon the street. The street ends at a cliff, at the bottom lays nothing but darkness. Hmm? I see a blonde man, covered in scars, and with a pretty bad shave. Maybe it's that Mafia guy. Yeah-- that's it. He's come to kill me for what I have done to the other two. I hide behind a trash can, near a dead guy in the shadows of the building. I peer to the right of the trash can and see flames covering a building in ashes and smoke. Dead bodies and holes lay around the street. Some weirdo drawing is visible in a window of a beat up building. "What kind of idiot draws at a time like this!" I think to myself.
« Last Edit: December 30, 2010, 03:21:40 AM by Flamecannon »

I followed the kid down the street in the fastest manner I could manage. I just saw the first three people I've seen in ages and I just killed two of them. I need to be more careful, I think to myself, otherwise there's not a chance in hell Ill know what the hell this place is. I try calling after him to get him to stop, but all that comes out is a raspy noise - I haven't had a drink in a few days. At the time I didn't realize my holding of the gun is probably scaring the stuff out of him. He's still a good block ahead of me when my throat gets the best out of me and I begin the run mindlessly, paying no attention to my surroundings. I then trip on a piece of the street sticking up and I fall flat on my face. My knee is hurting like a bitch at this point and I look down to see a huge gash running down the length. I pull myself up into a sitting position as the footsteps of the kid disappear altogether. I've blown my chance, but now what will I do? He was life, a person. I scared him off. I punch the car door I'm leaning against and it leaves a sizeable dent. I sit for another minute or two before realizing the kid never looted the bodies. I crawl back to my feet and look back down the road, but my view is obstructed by parked cars. I turn around and head back the way I came towards the corpses. I see they have Magnums on them. I grab one and then the other, throwing both into my pack. I see something sparkle in the gutter. I reach down and see its a full bottle of water. Within an instant, the water is gone, devoured by my thirsty self. I keep the bottle in case I find another source soon but I'm not holding my breath. I notice something abnormally colorful behind me and see its a neon sign. I get up closer to look at it but the window is too grimey. I pull open the door and I see an older man pointing an assault rifle right at my face. My muscles relax totally and my body goes cold. This is a hell of a day.

According to my watch it is 6:07 PM. It's getting really cold, my fingers aren't nimble, and my legs are sore. It's been an hour, no sign of that blonde guy. I want to believe that he left, but I think he's just teasing me, waiting for me to freak out. If I stay here I'll be safe.. but if I do I'll freeze to death. I decided to take action. No longer will I be under control. I slowly walk out of my hiding spot, my makeshift knife in my hand. I need to find shelter. Maybe I can go back to my apartment-- No, there's probably people waiting for me there... You know what? I don't care, I'll just kill them! I sneak by, luckily I am wearing black, I blend in with the shadows. After half an hour I returned to my apartment. Hmm? The corpses-- they've dissapeared, and the blood is gone! I run back to my room, I lock the doors, I close the blinds, and I lay in my bed with my bow right by my side.

*BANG*

A shot broke the silence. I peer through my blinds and see a chap in a green suit lay dead on the street. I conceal myself, then take one more peek... The body is gone! With fear and confusion in my mind I attempt to get rest, I plan on getting some answers tomorrow.

I stand still just inside the shop, the old man not flinching at all. I know if he blew my brains against the door, he wouldn't lose any sleep tonight.
     "The forget are you doing here, Speed?" he says to me, harshly. I'm frozen in fear and my mouth keeps moving and I try to use all of my energy into forming a sentence. Finally something comes out.
     "Please -- sir, please -- I mean no harm -- I just --" I've never stuttered so much in my life, but then again, I've never been threatened this way before.
     "Shut up, pusillanimous individual," he says to me. "Drop the gun." I instantly let my 10mm fall to the floor with a clatter. One of the rounds spills out and creates and empty clinking noise against the cheap tile.
     "Please, sir, I don't want any--anything to do with you. Please just let me go," I plead. He looks at me disapprovingly. There's suddenly an intense gunshot right outside the door. The old man drops his rifle in his jolt, and in that instant I know what I have to do. I grab my gun and burst out of the door and there's a new body freshly killed in the street; perhaps it was the kid I saw earlier. If it was, I'm glad I kept my distance. I took off down 5th the way I came and ran against the cold air. I glance back just as the shop door closes. I stop and turn back around; I saw an old mattress on the ground where the brownstones begin. I head back and look into the street to find the body I just saw was gone - what the hell? I decide its nothing and lay down on the old mattress. Its amazingly comfortable. I make myself concealed before I try to drift of into sleep beneath some of the blankets that were on it. They smell bad but they're warm - it'll do.

Name: Ryan "PowerDag" White
Status: Minor damage suffered!
Age: 18
Description: A medium-heighted lad with a mechanical eye. It allows him to see far distances, like binoculars. He wears a green shirt with a black tie, black gympants, and steel-toed boots. His hair is ginger-colored and looks windblown.
Equipment: Monkeywrench

I've been sitting cooped up in my house for hours. I don't dare go out, lest the mafia see me. How they could survive, I don't know, but there is no way I'd go outside. But then, I realize, that there was no mafia out there. I heard gunshots, and when I peered out, they were all dead. That's good to know.
     I'd better go down to eat, since the mafia is gone now. There's little food in my house.
     As I open the door, a wave of sound hits my eardrums, and a cold gust of air flies past. I realize it's freezing. I go back inside, put on my sweater, and head out. One of the hitmen's tommyguns lie on the stone street, so I pick it up. Still almost full. I take the other hitman's tommygun magazine. Peering around the corner, I see a mattress that appears to have someone sleeping in it. I'd better not disturb him.
     I go to a nearby restaurant to see the shopkeeper making food. The smell of fresh pizza greets my nostrils. Delicious. I pay the shopkeeper, sit down and start eating the slice of pizza. I wonder, maybe I should give the guy in the bed something to eat as well. I tell the shopkeeper I'll be right back, and I walk over to wake the person.

It took quite a while for my mind to ease from the days events; this is the most action I've had in a damn long time. But once my mind settled and my body decided it was warm enough beneath the blankets, I fell into the deepest sleep I've had since I don't know when.
     I began to dream, only this dream looked more like a memory than a dream. It appeared to be 5th St, and I was walking down it the same way I had earlier that day. I walked aimlessly and thoughtlessly just as I had before. I then was startled by the gunshots which I heard earlier and ducked behind the same car. I peered through the windowless holes and spotted the same two men discussing their matters quietly with each other. After a minute or so, I heard a crash on the left side of the street adjacent to the men. The same kid darted out, his weapon in hand, and let his first "arrow" sank deeply into the man's chest. My gun was roostered and ready so I took aim and fired at that closer man; he gave a slight shudder and turned towards me. However, this part was different. The kid missed with his weapon and the man in black took aim with his magnum straight at me and fired. An enormous jolt of pain shot through the area just below my left shoulder. Id never experienced anything quite so brutal. I gave up and relaxed, laying backward on my back instantly. The world around me became hazy, foggy. The pain lessened but as I touched the wound my blood loss was immense as showed by the amount on my hand. The world got cloudier and cloudier until everything went white and then faded into total darkness. My life was over.
« Last Edit: December 30, 2010, 01:35:44 PM by Caution »

Name: Max Hampton ( I use this character for most Rps)
Status: Ok
Age: Mid teens
Description: Brown hair, green eyes, torn jeans (in the knees), and a sweater.
Equipment: Harmonica, a sandwich, and a kitchen knife.
----------------------------------
As usual, being the homeless, parentless, and resourceless thief I am, I am running on the roof-tops away from the authorities. Not that I mind this life, it's just that I'm also being shot at.