Oct-taku
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Post by Oct-taku on Nov 3, 2008 11:55:43 GMT
OOC: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know I said I'd never run another supernaturally-based RP.
I lied.
"For the end of this century will mean the end of the world."- The Major, Hellsing, Volume 4.
The year is 1999, and the united States is at war. A new international cult, the Holy Order of the True Path, has declared war on the US. Given that the order possesses supernatural capabilities, it falls to America's main paranormal defense agency to stop them: The Pendleton Institute for Advanced Learning.
What the Institute doesn't know is the true goal of the Order. Not yet, at any rate. Robert Black, the founder of the cult, seeks to activate an ancient machine that will imbue him with God-like powers, and to bring about a new world.
And the Institute can't take that sitting down. ****************************************************
Rules -I’ll give everyone two character slots; use the second immediately or later, whenever it suits. -Setting is, for now, the US. Like, anywhere in the US. -Pretty much any reasonable character choice is open. Good, evil, comical, the grey areas in between. -No plagiarism on other players, keep your characters your own. -No trenchcoating. I know it's hard with the Supernatural theme, but try. -Permission from other players before influencing their character. -Have fun. ****************************************************
Organizations The Pendleton Institute for Advanced Learning- The Institute was founded in 1855 by Augustus C. Pendleton, a British businessman, immigrant, and occultist. It was originally created to document cases of the supernatural in Boston (where it was originally based), and then later all of America. In 1861, President Abraham Lincoln offered them full government support for full access to their archives. Though the Institute doesn't take credit for it, their libraries were instrumental in the Seige of Vicksburg during the Civil War.
The continued until World War Two, when they were temporarily folded into the millitary by the Special Service Act. They trained soldiers in anti-supernatural combat methods, shipped supplies of a "certain nature" to the fronts, even sent some of their own operative to combat the Axis Powers' own supernaturally-based war machines, in what would later be known as the GeistKreig (German: Ghost War ), the "war within the war".
After graduating to exterminating the supernatural, the Institute now protects America from supernatural threats with its government support and it's carte blanche reign over the supernatural in America.
Current leadership is Dr. Phillip Maarston. Currently based in Groom Lake Millitary Base, Nevada, United States.
PATRIOT- Called "The Paranormal Paramillitary" and the "Sixth Branch", PATRIOT is a private organization, much like the Pendleton Institute, their bitter rivals. Unlike the Institute, however, they're more "Gung-ho", seeking to destroy any and all traces of supernatural in America. Directly supported by the government, all of their gear, manpower, etc. is given to them by the U.S of A, and then they're set loose.
Despite their similar equipment, vehicles, capabilities and freedom from government restrictions, PATRIOT and the Institute differ in one major way: manpower. The Institute has about half as many active field operatives. On the other hand, due to it's stance on the supernatural, PATRIOT features no agents that have any manner of supernatural abilities. Pendleton, on the other hand, has a good deal of such operatives. PATRIOT makes up for this by extensive use of cybernetic sugmentations and gene therapy. In this way, it can be said that one side truely has an advantage over another: to PATRIOT, magic is the enemy. To the Institute, it's something to be respected, feared, and used.
Current leadership is Brigadier General Thomas Steele. Currently based in Washington, D.C. (in a small office about a half-mile from the Pentagon).
The Holy Order of the True Path- Founded a mere 10 years ago by Robert Black, this cult has quickly become one of the most dangerous of all supernaturally-powered terrorist groups in the world. The Order has ammased a huge army, mostly of supernatural creatures and supernaturally-adept humans who share their founder's insane dream of gaining God-like powers by reactivating the "Gabriel", a mysterious ancient machine.
They have nearly unlimited resources, thanks to hundreds of ridiculously wealthy patrons. They possess tanks, aircraft, naval vessels, submarines, and even a few cruise missles (after their declaration of war, both the Institute and PATRIOT worry about the possiblity, however remote, of the Order also owning nuclear, biological, or chemical weapons).
Current leadership is Robert Brown. Current base of operations is unknown, suspected to be somewhere in central or eastern Europe. ****************************************************
Profile
Name: Age: Allegiance: (The organization you work for.) Gender: Height: Weight: Appearence: (If you've got pictures, use them here. Pictures plus text is good, too.) Species: (Anything you can think of, really. Keep in mind that PATRIOT does not use supernatural characters) Bio: Personality: Theme(s): (One or two or three songs that really establish the feel of your character.) Weapon(s): Abilities: (All organizations usually recruit people with supernatural powers, except PATRIOT. Their augmentations go here, too.) Weaknesses: (Be sensible, please. I'm leaving the number of powers and weaknesses to your discretion.) Relations: (Superiors, subordinates, ect. Might change throughout RP.)
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Oct-taku
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Post by Oct-taku on Nov 4, 2008 0:01:17 GMT
Name: Jack Dodson Age: Physically mid-twenties. Actually 100. Allegiance: The Pendleton Institute. Gender: Male Height: 6'2" Weight: 150 lbs. Appearence: Dodson has dark brown hair, kept combed near-constantly into what is called an Ivy-League cut. His Greek nose is straight, and fairly unremarkable. His eyes are a deep blue, almost black, and seem to all observers as being flat and dead. Various scars dot his face and hands, the most promenient being the vertical one across his right cheek. Dodson dressed simply: a green courderouy jacket, jeans, a white T-shirt, and a pair of hiking boots. Species: Supernaturally-augmented human Bio: Jack Dodson was born in 1900, in Ardale Kansas. His childhood was unremarkable, except when his parents died in a freak car accident when he was 17. Being the sole child in his family, he left home, enlisting in the army. He fought in World War one, eventually returning home and settling in New York City. There, he made contacts within the Cosa Nostra, eventually getting into organized crime. Though never a "made" member, he was, to some extent, respected.
Nicknamed by allies and police as "Jackie Spin-Pistol" for his flamboyant habit of spinning his handgun, Dodson eventually calmed down somewhat. He married Anna Lee-Dodson in 124, and had a daughter in 1925, Alice. Things were good. But then again, things usually are right before the crap hits the fan. On August 7th, 1925, Anna Lee-Dodson and Alice Dodson were brutally murdered in their own home, with Dodson himself knocked unconcious, his cheek slit open. The killer? A vampire.
Using his contacts among the organized crime of the New York families, Dodson eventually tracked down the Midian to an abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn. Ramming a sharpened baseball bat into it's heart began a life-long crusade for Dodson. He spend the next 39 years hunting down vampires across America, before he was located by agents for the Pendleton Institute.
They offered him a deal: in exchange for his services and knowledge of anti-undead combat, Dodson would be given amnesty for everything he had or would do, along with government support to carry out his vendetta. Needless to say, the deal was accepted. The Institute used a variety of magical and alchemic experiements to change Dodson into something more than human-an organism developed for one purpose: erradication of the undead and other supernatural threats.
Dodson has operated since World War Two (actually being one of the Institute's combat specialists), and is considered the Pendleton Institute's greatest field agent.
Personality: Dodson is, in a word, unemotional. He tends to avoid any public display of his feelings, though he's not always successful. This is most evident when he gets, in a word, pissed. He's also somewhat pessimistic, taking things with "about three tablespoons of salt." He maintains this viewpoint because, in a rare instance, he quotes Warhammer 40K. "Hope is the first step on the road to disappointment." Theme(s): Haunted-Disturbed, Indestructible-Disturbed, Animal I've Become-Three Days Grace. Weapon(s): Dodson's primary weapons are a pair of AMT AutoMag .44 magnum handguns, named Anger and Agony. Anger, used most often in his right hand, is a birght red color, whereas Agony is a more blued hue. In his Full Release, however, he uses a much wider variety of firearms. He's also never seen without at least one crucifix and now less than five stakes. Abilities: Dodson's entire range of abilities came be summed up thusly: shadow control. More accurately, his abilities are fueled by darkness, either literal or metaphorical. Dodson can "hop" from shadow to shadow, he possesses night vision on par with that of vampires', he can manipulate his form, he can even store things inside of his shadow for later retreival. On top of this, he has astounding regenerative abilities, based off of how much darknesses in in the area. What this results in is Dodson being nigh-indestructible at night. Dodson has various "release stages", with his full release reverting him back to his pre-experiment form, but with access to vastly upgraded abilities.
Also, Dodson, as a side-effect of the experiments that made him, is immune to intoxication, poison, and disease, and it takes a very powerful sedative to tranquilize him. Weaknesses: Sunlight makes it much harder for Dodson to access any of his abilities. Also, he's certifably insane, according to some people. Add this with his penchant for drinking, and you've got a not-so-wonderful combination of character flaws. Relations: Superiors: Dr. Phillip Maarston, Michael Keplar. Subordinates: Most everyone else in the Institute. **************************************************** Name: Robert Black Age: Mid-30s Allegiance: The Order Gender: Male Height: 5'7" Weight: 115 Appearence: A shorter man, with very little red hair, a hawk-like nose, and the cold blue eyes of a fanatic. Black often dresses in a white, hooded robe, with a metal "Y" hanging from his neck: the symbol of the Order. Species: Human Bio: Little is known about the enigmatic founder of the Order. What is known is that he was born sometime in the early-to-mid 1970s in a small village in East Sussex. He disappeared at the age of fifteen, before reappearing five years later to found the Order. Personality: Black is megalomaniacal at times, and the Order isn't just a religious cult: it's a cult of personality. It's members revere Black as the messiah, feeding his ego even more. Theme(s): Personal Jesus-Marilyn Manson Weapon(s): A .32 caliber holdout pistol. Abilities: Black, in addition to having complete control over the Order, is able to produce miracles of a sort. Nearly anything, to a certain degree. Weaknesses: These miracle can only be manifested when Black is physically touching the holy symbol of the Order. Relations: All of the Order act as his subordinates. No known living relations.
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Post by Scorpio on Nov 4, 2008 20:17:18 GMT
ooc: Hey, rip van winkle. This doesn't mean your off the hook for schizoid when it gets rolling again.
Name: Spy Slayer Age: estimated 30's Allegiance: Solo, been known to assist Institute agents and PATRIOT soldiers, hidden ties to several workers unions and funding from the Bank of England Gender: Male Height: 6'5 Weight: 225 lbs Appearence: A tall muscular pulp hero type. Wears a dark blue bodysuit with cowl, black golves, boots and belt carrying his gear, and a foldable wing like apparatus on each arm that works like a glider when deployed Species: Human Bio: A vigilante who faced the nazis and several werewolf tribes in london pre ww2 before travelling overseas during the war to face axis agents. Presumed missing after leading several troops on an attack against a nazi rocket base, seemingly perishing whilst fighting a vampirised general. Has recently turned up in america using upgraded equipment to take out several organised supernatural terrorists and aided PATRIOT soldiers. Investigations are unsure whether this is the same person from WW2 or an heir to the title Personality: Quiet, reserved, secretive, annoyingly so. But always up for helping the underdog regular troops against more powerful creatures. Theme: Weapons: colt 1911, white phosphorus grenades, silver knife, network of informants in worker unions. Abilities: decent hand to hand combatant and marksman, acrobatic, stealthy Weaknesses: completly human Relations: Rivalry with several PATRIOT officers due to his 'turn up where he feels like it' methods. A bit of an idol figure to several lower agents and rookie soldiers.
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Oct-taku
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Post by Oct-taku on Nov 5, 2008 12:27:00 GMT
OOC: Scorp's in. Imma say two more people, then we start.
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Post by Captain Obvious on Nov 5, 2008 12:31:34 GMT
Name:Frank Harrison Age:35 Allegiance:The Order Gender:Male/Beast Height:6'9 Weight:225 lb Appearence: A walking tank. Teeth filed down into points, shirt usually stained red with blood. media.ebaumsworld.com/mediaFiles/picture/551224/730013.jpgSpecies: Human/Vampire Bio:Frank was born in an Austrian farming town. His family emigrated to America, and Frank grew up a normal bully. He felt strange whenever he saw blood, being attracted to it as is a force was pushing him. His father was abusive and a drunk who usually beat his family. This culminated in a murder-suicide in which he murdered his wife when Frank was 15. Frank felt the irresistible call to feed, and was found drinking his parents dry. Many years and several institutions later, Frank was released. He spent the next few years feeding on his local town, killing many. He was finally chased away by a mob of people who discovered his hideout. He traveled throughout the US, bulking up and beginning to get good at his new trade. After a few years, Frank found a new home. The Order. Frank has spent the last few years training as he assisted "Mr. Black" in any way he needed. Personality:Insane, blood addicted psychopath who likes to scare and awe people. Average mental capacity, apart from the belief he is a vampire. Theme(s): "Stupid motherfu**er" Mindless Self Indulgence. Any song by Bubblegum Octopus Weapon(s):A WW1 era heavy revolver, bare hands with sharpened nails. Abilities: Almost superhuman strength from countless years of steroids and bodybuilding. High endurance. A special fighting style focusing on stunning, or throwing the opponent, readying them for a bite. Weaknesses:No actual vampire abilities. Only human. Not very good with ranged weapons. Relations: Feared by everyone below him, respected as an insane asset by those above him.
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Oct-taku
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Post by Oct-taku on Nov 6, 2008 0:02:57 GMT
OOC: One more to go....
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Kan
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Post by Kan on Nov 6, 2008 5:54:39 GMT
OOC:
Hell no.......
The Inmans are staying out of this one.
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Oct-taku
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Post by Oct-taku on Nov 6, 2008 10:21:39 GMT
OOC: Fine. Be that way.
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Khallos
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Post by Khallos on Nov 6, 2008 14:10:00 GMT
OOC: Hell no....... The Inmans are staying out of this one. OOC: Awr, but now where am i going to go for tough as nails American marines to kick around? Ill edit this post with a proper character sheet in a little bit. Need to think about this a little. Name: Sleek Hemlock Age: 19 Allegiance: The Pendleton Institute Gender: Male Height: 4'10" Appearance: Sleek has Black Fur covering most of his form, just his muzzle with his protruding, yellowed chisel teeth left furless - though far from smooth. Sleek was kinda big for a ratman his age, but still short for a human, and oddly enough took unusually good care of his fur by rat standards. Usually keeping out of peoples sight, Sleek seemed to prefer wearing coveralls or kids' tracksuits when he wasn't wearing his custom stuff stitched from spare fabric, holes cut out in the rear to let his long, dexterous tail poke out. Reference 1 and Reference 2 are just to give an idea of physique. Species: Ratman Bio: Sleek is just another one of the Ratmen from the colonies beneath the cities of the USA. Born in a nest underneath New York, Sleek was forced to deal with the usual rat eat rat world of Ratman society for most of his young life, dealing how to steal and skulk around the surface world unseen and deal with his fellow clanmates in order to survive. However, when he was reaching his adolescence, his clan traded him off in return for some rare mechanical components the leader wanted to one of his shadowy contacts: rather than ending up under the heel of another clan, however, Sleek found himself in the employment of the Pinkerton Institute. Sleek has been somewhat slow to adjust to life with the institute - he doesn't particularly like open, light spaces if he has to stay in them too long, and so tends to gravitate to places like the vents and closets, and the fact that he's used to sleeping in a nest piled up with the rest of the clan makes things.. uhh.. awkward at times. He's still undergoing proper training with the Institute, though he doesn't really need all that much. Personality: Sleek tends to be mistrusting of most people when he first meets them, and then starts to become more and more loyal with people that he perceives to be part of 'the clan' until it gets to a SCARY degree. He hasn't grasped that humans have a concept of personal space and time to themselves, either, and when this is combined with his skill at sneaking through small spaces it means that he often pops out on people when they're asleep or in the bathroom just to say hello. Weapon(s): Desert Eagle pistol (He's not very good with it), throwing stars, flick-knife and a Steak knife stolen from the kitchen Abilities: Can squeeze himself into INCREDIBLY tight spaces (He's fit into a 1 foot cube crate before) and silent walking. His natural agility lets him climb almost shere surfaces, and he can use his tail like a fifth limb Weaknesses: He IS still just an overgrown rat. Anything that can kill a human can still kill him - though he is resistant to MOST poisons. Relations: Superiors: Dr. Phillip Maarston, Jack Dodson OOC: Holy crap this is weak x.x
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Oct-taku
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Post by Oct-taku on Nov 8, 2008 2:25:23 GMT
OOC :But it works.
And we're open.
IC:
There was a dreadful silence at the small suburban home.
And then there was a dreadful noise.
The red-tinged magazine fell to the floor, clacking on the linoleum of the kitchen. Jack Dodson picked it up and stowed it away in on the the inner pockets of his jacket. He slid a fresh clip into Anger, then holstered the .44 AutoMag in one of his shoulder holsters. With that, he sat down on a chair, and unscrewed the lid from the hip flask he now had in his hand. Dear God, how he needed a drink....
He propped his feet up on the table, the hiking boots leaving small, bloody smears. He looked to the ashes on the floor as he downed the scotch. The only remains of the vampire and two ghouls he'd killed here were the ashes and the clothes, and those would be dealt with by the clean-up squad the Institute would invariably send. It was, after all, common procedure.
"Yo, Boyd." he said into his ear-microphone. "Pacth me through to Doctor Maarston, would you?"
"Jack. Status report." the Director of the Pendleton Institute of Advanced Learning ordered over the airwaves. Dodson sighed.
"Hardly a challenge. One leech, two ghouls. I'll be heading back now."
"Well, we've gotten a break on the Order, Jack." Maarston continued. "Michael will brief you when you return to the Groom Lake facility."
Dodson stood, the flicker of a smile playing across his lips.
"Oh? That so?"
"Yes. We're going to need you and another agent to investigate."
"Dr. Maarston, I-"
"Work better alone. I know. but when they're with you, other agent's have a drastically better chance at survival."
"You do recall the last nine partners I had, right?" Dodson asked and he shut the front door and stepped out into the night.
"Yes. You always bring this up. Only one died!"
"And the other nine couldn't handle me and blew their brains out." the vampire hunter reminded his superior before cutting the link.
And so, Jack Dodson began to walk.
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Post by Captain Obvious on Nov 8, 2008 5:00:23 GMT
A piercing scream shattered the night air.
"RUN! JUST RUN SUSAN!" A voice yelled desperately.
The voice belonged to a man by the name of Robert Redford, who's time on this Earth was about to come to a messy end.
As Robert stumbled through his house in a daze he only had one thing on his mind. Escape. The next thing on his mind would be a hand, another quickly seizing the neck and twisting until Robert's neck broke with a sickening crack. The body was tossed aside, knocking down a lamp and falling onto a coffee table that quickly turned red with blood.
A hulking shape moved quickly through the darkness, walking through the rest of what had been Redford's home and stepping onto the back patio. A woman ran through the back yard, making little progress in the blackness before tripping over a potted plant. She gave up trying to run, instead cowering into a ball on the cool grass. Even though it wasn't autumn, the trees of the Redford house turned red.
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Oct-taku
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Post by Oct-taku on Nov 9, 2008 14:04:51 GMT
"Okay, so what's this lead on the Order?" Dodson asked Michael Keplar as the two walked around the Groom Lake base.
"Well Jack, it's, uhh....Okay, know how we were afraid of them having chemical weapons?" Keplar responded. Dodson stopped right outside the mess hall.
"What. Did they. Do?"
"Mustard gas. 800 people in New Orleans. We're sending you and the new guy down there to investigate." the bodyguard/ assistant explained.
"Wait, which new guy?" the vampire hunter asked. ****************************************************
"I think you all saw what was on the telly recently!" Robert Black exclaimed to the members of the Order who were currently listening to his bi-weekly sermon. "A city of sin, consumed by the wrath of God! True, only eight-hundred suffered His vengeance, but it was a warning to all who revile in Herecy and sinful nature!"
"God's Truth is among us." those sttending chanted.
"Amen."
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Khallos
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Post by Khallos on Nov 9, 2008 21:33:31 GMT
Sleek was SUPPOSED to be in the briefing room right now, waiting for his potential partner to arrive so they could... ah.. get to know each other. He was SUPPOSED to be reading over Dodson's file so he could know a little about him in advance. But he'd been left alone in the briefing room, and he was bored, and he never was much one for reading in the first place. He always thought the best way to learn about someone was to watch them, and if you will leave a ratman alone in a room with something as basic as countersunk non conventional screw-heads on the ventilation hatch...
The vents would hardly even creak as Sleek followed jack and Michael around the base from above, the only sign that he was there being the eyes glinting in the darkness as they peered down through the intermittent grilles...
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Oct-taku
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Post by Oct-taku on Nov 10, 2008 10:26:58 GMT
"Right. You best go meet him. He's in the briefing room on this floor." Keplar continued as he and Dodson kept walking. "I've given him a short summary of your mission, as well as what little of your dossier isn't classified to a ridiculous level."
"And this is the rat-man, right?" Dodson asked. Keplar nodded in affirmation. "You do realize he's probably not there anymore, right?"
"And you know this how?"
"Remember San Francisco, March 2nd, 1989?" the vampire hunter asked. "I had to take on that little clan of them that was smuggling high-powered weapons into the country?"
"Oh, yes. Forgot about that."
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Post by Captain Obvious on Nov 10, 2008 20:56:36 GMT
"But we, we will succeed in our crusade!"
Massive applause followed Black's speech, as usual. Also as usual, Frank stood just to the right and behind of the charismatic leader as he spoke. It was a ridiculous notion that someone would try to harm Black from inside the Order, but there was always that chance. So Frank was always there.
Looking out over the crowd, Frank saw a multitude of faces grinning from ear to ear, happy to be pawns to the Order. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, the hulking figure that was Frank followed behind Black as he walked away from the podium.
"I took care of that whistleblower Redford for you." Frank whispered when he caught up with the Order's leader.
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Khallos
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Post by Khallos on Nov 10, 2008 21:37:55 GMT
"Hrumph". Sleek said quietly to himself, staying put in the vent. The cheek, comparing him to some of the Sanfers... and assuming he'd sneak off! How rude! Still, the little guy stayed shtum for now, just following the pair of them from overhead in the vent.. Well, at least till he got to a bit that hadn't been bolted to the ceiling properly...
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Post by The Spy on Nov 11, 2008 0:25:28 GMT
OOC: I suppose that another person was needed in this, mind if I join? Name:Ken Olson (Kesolis Soredista) Age: Mid Twenties (Real age 400) Allegiance: La Institut De Pur Âme Gender:Male Height:6'9" Weight:220 LB Appearence: i67.photobucket.com/albums/h301/Jaxcell/adulli.jpgSpecies: Vampire(The non burning in daylight and doesn't need to drink blood type) Bio: Kesolis, the young master of the Soredista family, grew up with the rapier and medicine as his playmates. His cool, unemotional demeanor created many enemies, but his quick and precise decision-making and execution skills were prominent features of his family amongst the nobility. Unfortunately, Kesolis made a critical mistake during the years of the notorious French Revolution and killed an insane noble in self-defense--a noble supported by his family. His family cast him out of their household and even aided the town in their pursuit of the murderer. As he fled into the sanctuary of the Ottoman Empire, along his way there he stopped at a dismal looking inn, and there his life changed the owner was apparently a Vampire know in that region who preys on weary travelers and steals them of their life blood but Kesolis by mere chance, managed to not die from Vampiric Feeding but gained more power than the Vampire himself and thus, killed him in a fury. He now roams the earth drifting from one place to another, he is to this day baffled at why he is not stricken with the same curses of other Vampires, The Bloodlust at night, The Weakening and immolation of stepping into daylight and the pale skin. Personality: Cool and Calm, usually looking down on others because of his noble upbringing. Theme(s): Holy Order(Be Just Or be Dead) By Daisuke Ishiwatari Weapon(s): Two Rapiers that contrast each other, one Beautiful Gold and Platinum Rapier emitting a Holy Soft Aura that pierces through anything tainted by evil and another that is a Black Obsidian handled sword with a black blade with glowing red runes that seems burning to the touch, obviously filled with malevolent evil. Abilities: Mastery of Bladed weapons, Levitation, Alacrity, Superhuman Strength and ability to transform into mist and a bat. Weaknesses: Unable to use guns due to his sheer dislike of them, silver and being pierced through the heart Relations: All his relatives are dead now.
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Oct-taku
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Post by Oct-taku on Nov 11, 2008 0:44:23 GMT
OOC: Hmm....Okay, Hira's in. Welcome to the board!
"Ah. Thank you, my friend." Black said as the two walked away. "He was quite a bother, no?" the cult leader continued, as the two came to the core of the Order's base of operation: a large, very old-looking clock-work style machine.
"The Gabriel! Always takes my breath away...." Robert Black muttered. "And all we require is the six Ioun Stones nessecery to power it, in accordance with the documents we found in Israel. And one of them is in New Orleans.
"Now you understand the rationale behind the gas attack, hmm? Alcolyte Harrison, we're sending you and a team to Louis Armstrong Park to excavate one of the six stones."
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Post by Captain Obvious on Nov 11, 2008 0:51:13 GMT
"Yes Master Black." Frank replied. It was the only thing he could have said.
The Order commanded respect and discipline, like any group who wanted to get things done. Bad things happened to people who didn't stay with the clan. Bad things usually done by Frank Harrison.
Even though the cult was gaining strength, there were always a few troublemakers. One of Franks jobs was to make sure there were only a few.
"I will be on the next flight to New Orleans. Who will I be working with?" Frank asked, hoping to stay inconspicuous.
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Oct-taku
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Post by Oct-taku on Nov 11, 2008 1:28:10 GMT
"A few....members of weak faith." Black said after a moment's consideration. "They've failed us a few times before, and I have made it perfectly clear to the fifteen of them what the price of failure this time will be. I've also informed them that you will be presiding over them, Alcolyte. There are to do with as you please. If they so much as even hiccup incorrectly...."
Robert Black never needed to finish his sentences anymore. Call it a perk of being the bad guy of this particular RP.
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Post by Captain Obvious on Nov 11, 2008 1:42:15 GMT
"Your will will be done, Master Black." Frank replied, bowing.
He set his face to stone before turning on his heel and walking to the hallway outside of the room housing the Gabriel. Turning for one last glance at the machine, Frank was reminded of the inside of a clocktower.
Turning again and continuing on his way to the barracks, Frank contemplated stopping by the infirmary to pick up some blood. The hunger's call was hard to resist. He decided a stop of a few minutes wouldn't be that great a stain on his character, not to mention it would scare the fifteen weaklings he would have to babysit into thinking they had done something wrong.
Frank bared his teeth in a grin as he walked through the complex. If the boys he had to babysit got out of line he might not have to feed from blood packs for a long while.
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Khallos
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Post by Khallos on Nov 11, 2008 21:37:33 GMT
The rat-man gave a squeak, the Vent starting to give way underneath even his slight weight and giving a little jerk as part of it fell downwards. Sleek scrabbled to scoot off, but found his shirt caught on an exposed bolt with in the vent... and a few seconds later the whole segment came crashing down into the corridor, the ratman inside giving a pained squeak.
"OW!" Still, now he was down on ground level those two golden eyes peered out of the section of broken vent, a sheepish grin on Sleek's face. "Ah.. hey there! You must be Dodson..."
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Post by The Spy on Nov 11, 2008 22:25:24 GMT
I walk into this human dive bar and I look at the patrons, I notice that there are only 10 people by a quick count, most likely more in the back cooking up meth or some over the hill prostitute giving some lucky man crabs.
I strut over the the barstools and I plant myself on one.
"Barkeep, give me the best Gin you got, straight." I said, putting an American bills on the counter and the bartender greedily takes it.
I notice 2 of the bargoers making eyes at me.
I swivel around in my barstool and they look at me.
"I suppose you two are Supernatural Sensitives?" I inquire, already knowing the answer.
"Yeah, what of it freak?" They ask back.
"I suggest if you do not wish for trouble, you will leave me be, lest you wish to be exsanguinated." I suggest, drawing the Holy Sword and I scoop up the drink with it and I drink it, then place it back on the counter.
"You threatening us boy?" the taller one asks.
I look at them, crossing my legs now. "Why yes, I am." I say, grinning at the response.
They look surprised that I would even bother fighting two at once.
I go outside and those two follow suit.
I draw the two swords and I point it at each of them.
One of them brings out a pistol and the other, a shotgun.
"Pathetic Humans I'd say." I say, as they fire their guns at me.
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Post by The Spy on Nov 13, 2008 10:34:46 GMT
OOC:(It is OOC right?) Regrettably no one is posting, so I might aswell "double-post".
I put my left foot forward and pivot to the right, almost making my body look as if I was leaning on something but I'm not and I deflect the bullet right back into the pistol from where it came and it explodes, vaporizing his hand, obviously he falls to the ground and starts screaming.
"Oh my, it seems I spoke of despair again..." I say, walking towards them.
The man with the shotgun fires at me and I quickly discern all the buckshot that flies towards me and I turn and twist my body to avoid the buckshot while using the sword to deflect those I cannot.
A few more reports from the shotgun and it clicks empty.
"The problem with those contraptions, they tend to lose out on longevity in offense." I say as I dust off my my coat and silk shirt of the gunpowder and metal residue.
"What in God's green earth are you?!" He exclaims, fear coursing through his body in multiple forms, one; being that he fouled his breeches, two; the veins in his temples are pounding, and three; the apparent fear in his eyes.
"By the condition of your body, Your worst nightmare." I say, drawing my other sword and stabbing one into the right side of his chest and the other into his right shoulder.
"I'd hate to see you 'part' like this, but c'est la vie." I say through a gleaming smile and I split him apart, venous and arterial blood gushing everywhere.
I sheath my swords and I walk towards the city, mainly just wandering looking for even another fight.
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Post by Scorpio on Nov 13, 2008 21:28:57 GMT
Joe sat on the park bench for nearly an hour, just across from the statue of the cavalrymen like he'd been told. When the hell was the boss getting there?
"This better be good." One of the figures leapt off the horse and strode over to the bench. The legendary secret soldier of world war 2, Spy Slayer.
"Yeah, you asked us to look out for anything weird after that new orleans deal, so get this. Big shipment came in at the warehouse district, the 'East trading company' sent their own people in to pick it up, saying 'confidentiality clause' only that wasn't mentioned to us when the stuff came in. They're picking it up tonight."
Joe looked over his shoulder in case of eavesdroppers, but upon turning back his contact had already left.
"Damn, need a bell on that guy." ***************************************************
At the warehouse, the four order agents had halfway loaded the supplies into the truck, several medical crates and gas canisters.
"Okay, you guys remember where to bring this stuff?" A pair of them lifted another crate from each end.
"Do I look stupid to you?"
Spy Slayer dropped from the rafters onto the crate. The two cultists yelled out as their hands were pinned to the floor and their fingers shattered. "You both look pretty stupid right now."
The driver saw the commotion in his rear view mirror and signaled the third.
"You pick wrong time of month to face me!" The cultist strained, forcing a lycanthrope transformation, a large brown furred type, pretty common, still vicious.
Spy Slayer drew his knife as the werewolf charged, deflecting it's claws with the blade and slashing him across the face. The wound smoked from the silver reaction.
"Dammit dammit!" The driver spun the truck and headed for the open doors, intending to plow through the pair of the combatants on the way. Slayer jumped onto the hood as the werewolf was thrown aside.
"Wrong move." Grabbing a phosphorus bomb from his belt, Slayer smashed through the windshield and dropped the bomb into the cab before leaping off. The device burst into a plume of fire as the vehicle tipped over.
Spy Slayer walked back to the first two wounded agents, dropping his calling card on the crate. The wolf was out cold and the crates were going nowhere. Patriot and the Institute would be there any second to clean up, so Slayer could make himself scarce.
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Post by Captain Obvious on Nov 13, 2008 23:12:22 GMT
OOC: Character profile Scorp?
And Jax, Oct has had some trouble at home in the past. Give him some time to advance HIS RP before you try and push it in any other directions. That one goes for everybody.
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Post by The Spy on Nov 14, 2008 0:38:46 GMT
OOC: I'm not Jax but if you want to call me that, you may, nonetheless I'm furthering a storyline that in no way affects the maker of this role playing thread unless he is irked by "wall o text".
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Khallos
RP Moderator
The Duke of Ditchington
Posts: 1,507
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Post by Khallos on Nov 14, 2008 9:26:41 GMT
OOC: Character profile Scorp? And Jax, Oct has had some trouble at home in the past. Give him some time to advance HIS RP before you try and push it in any other directions. That one goes for everybody. OOC: Hey, Roman, Scorp already did a character profile, before you, actually. I think you'll find that Joe is an NPC, or maybe a support character like Colonel out of Metal Gear that just hides in a closet somewhere telling Spy Slayer to stop being lazy and go do some missions. And, jeeze man, don't be so aggressive. He's right, seeing as nothing much is going on right now theres no harm in double posting so long as its unrelated to everyone else. Of course if you're interacting with somebody or launching missiles or some other disrupive activity its bad, but a bar brawl aint gonna do any harm. Just try and avoid doing triple or higher. Besides, he's new. I just hope Oct gets back soon so i can get going again. Hohum.
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Post by Captain Obvious on Nov 14, 2008 11:29:41 GMT
OOC: Sorry Scorp.
Hiraukauden, Your using Jax's photobucket profile, I apologize if your not her, but from all appearances you seem to be.
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Post by The Spy on Nov 14, 2008 13:06:12 GMT
OOC: Sorry Scorp. Hiraukauden, Your using Jax's photobucket profile, I apologize if your not her, but from all appearances you seem to be. OOC: My sincerest apologies for not making an introduction, this board doesn't seem to have one as Rei told me. I'm her brother, Kenji and the reason why I'm using her photobucket profile is because she has a hell of alot pictures to use. Now that we got introductions out of the way, what say we not have any future verbal altercations again?
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