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Cyberpunk RP
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Cyberpunk RP
Cyberpunk RP
Okay, this might be a bit of a strange and confusing idea but stick with me okay?
So essentially this RP takes place in the far future, where nearly everything has been digitalized. Technology has become so advanced that the virtual world has combined with the real world. In the beginning, it was amazing. People could become whatever they want, the economy flourished, and it was peaceful. Of, course there was criminal behavior(Mainly small amounts of hacking into the system), but it never resulted in a death. No one had died in a long, long time.
And it stayed like that for a while. Until something peculiar happened. The monsters that used to reside in their nonconsequential videos games escaped, becoming... consequential. The hacking became more often, and harmed the system more than it used to. People were disappearing, and people were dying. Lots of people were dying.
Multiple criminal organizations claimed it was their doing, but most people believed they jumped on the joyride and climbed their way up the ladder. Something else was causing this, and no one knew quite what.
Either way, this utter meltdown ( called The Revelation, or Armageddon, or, if you want to be Cheesy, Deathware) had caused a complete meltdown of the government. Cities became dark, not the colorful display of lights they used to be, and people shunned technology. Most people tried to get rid of their technical enhancements, and the parts of the world that were too far digitalized to bring back became just pixels and errors. But even if you did want more technology in your life, you probably wouldn't get it. Password: Cipher. At this point, only the richest and most powerful could grab their hands on it, if they chose to. The middle class was destroyed, and you were either left in the rubble or strengthened yourself in it. In conclusion, it was complete and utter chaos.
So, with that said, make your character and see if you want to help our world or ruin it.
(Oh and by the way, if you want some sort of artificial intelligence or cyborg like character go right on ahead! Just don't be op or bland. I don't want everyone to be a cyborg.)
(Also, limit of two characters for each person. At the moment I don't have a limit to how many people can join but that might change.)
Name (Most names at this point you would consider rather strange, and some of the rebellious type go for cheesy names from video games or references to technology. Others, however, name themselves less strangely, like Robert or Jessica, to differentiate themselves from technology):
Age (Diverse Please. I don't want a bunch of characters around the age of 13. I would prefer older.):
Gender:
Appearance (Include clothing and technological enhancements if any. Also you can make it slightly fantasy like if you like since the world is still fairly digitalized.):
Personality (Detailed please.):
Skills/Occupation/Technological Enhancements/Weapons/Etc. (Most people before the Apocalypse had a small implant (I'm calling in a regular implant for now on) that allowed them to better traverse the digitalized world. If you hate technology you probably won't have this, which might mean that some parts of the world become inaccessible or you're just unable to have as unreal powers as others. Oh, and the digitization that gave some people powers like telekinesis or flying is now more broken, which means it stopped being as useful or it created errors and may have mutated you.):
Like or Dislike Technology? (You probably won't have technological enhancements if you don't like technology unless you couldn't afford the procedure to get rid of them.):
Backstory (Would prefer this be detailed.):
Password:
Other:
Name: Ray Mortimer
Age: 39
Gender: Male
Appearance: Graying Dark brown curly hair, and longish sideburns. Gray eyes that are covered in wrinkles and shadows. Short, could be considered muscular. Furrowed brows. Wears dirty overcoats over ties 40s or 50s in nature. (His entire outfit pretty much looks like something from a Detective Show from the 40s or 50s) Might even wear a fedora or something.
Personality: Deliberate, Independent, and could be considered quiet. Realistic and focused on the job he needs to do. Honest and very loyal, and a bit of a perfectionist. Is very sympathetic and almost sweet if you get to know him, which is so hard since he barely talks out of his job. Calm, and quick thinking.
Skills/Occupation/etc.: Has the regular implant. Works as an independent detective/bodyguard for anyone who pays (He doesn't have the money to choose what sort of people he works for, which upsets him but he can't do much about it.) Has the AI Samus to help him. Good with guns (great aim), but he uses ones that are a bit behind technology wise. Good detective skills (attention to detail, etc.) and athletic. Surprisingly good cook.
He likes technology.
Backstory:
Before the apocalypse, He lived a fairly simple life working as a detective (Most AIs weren't far enough yet to replicate a detective's job), solving the few crimes that still existed in this world. He married a kind and beautiful woman by the name of Oriana, a game designer working in a video game company called Lightscape, and they had a child together named Aero. Aero was absolutely brilliant, rising up in the technological world at the age of 11. She pioneered better AI, and created the holographic robot Samus who would be one of the first robots working in detective work. However, then came the apocalypse. Aero was one of the first to die, destroyed by one of the monsters that escaped from Oriana's own game. It utterly wrecked Oriana, driving her insane. Ray would wake up one day and find her gone, never to be seen again.
Ray became lonely, a shell of what he once was. Becoming desperate for his family, he searched his daughter's files and workings, hoping he could come across anything that could help. Then, by some miracle, he found a file that included all the memories his daughter had. Why they were there (Perhaps for a secret project she was working on) and how she had even gotten them there, Ray would never know. But he decided he would implant the memories into Samus, hoping that it would override everything and bring back her daughter.
It almost worked. For a while, at least. Samus was the cheerful and intelligent child he remembered, and she started working to save the world almost automatically. But the new world... Broke her. She was brought into a world without a mother, without a government, and with absolute chaos. She hated it. She refused to affiliate herself with these humans, who wrecked Earth. So she didn't. She now goes by Samus, and never mentions Aero ever again.
So Ray was stuck with the shell of his former daughter, and the desperate goal of trying to find his wife.
Other: Likes card games.
Name: Samus 9.2 (Real Name Aero Mortimer)
Age: That's... Hard to describe, for an AI.
Gender: Female
Appearance: Curly golden hair half shaven on the right. Tall, thin, and pale. Her eyes are an unnatural navy blue, almost looking pixelated and artificially textured. light brown golden glasses. She always wears a blue cocktail dress and appears in the shape of a full-sized hologram-esque form (Looks slightly transparent and doesn't have a solid form, but still looks incredibly realistic.)
Personality: Sarcastic, witty, and rude. Very intelligent and quite blunt, always telling the facts. Not friendly in the slightest, and not good with feelings. She's stubborn, and strong-willed, and would have a good moral compass if it weren't for the fact that she hates everyone. Wants a job to be done, and will do it herself. Perfectionist.
Skills/Occupations/Technological Enhancements: She's an AI, and a hologram, which means she can go through walls and people can go through her. However, she's connected to Ray's implant, and she can't go that far from him without losing connection and shifting back.She's able to hold and record a lot of information, can analyze items to small details, and do a lot of stuff you would assume a robot could do. She can't hold objects or anything else for that matter, however. She's just light. She helps Ray with his detective work. Is able to sing, understand different languages and speak in different languages.
She is literal technology, so she's all for it.
Backstory: See Ray
Other: Can't think of anything else.
(Gee that was long. Thanks for reading all of that if you did.)
submitted by Danie
(January 13, 2018 - 5:46 pm)
(January 13, 2018 - 5:46 pm)
Reserving a spot. I think I'm actually going to put thought into my charrie this time :), so I'll post the sheet as soon as I'm done. This looks really cool!
(January 14, 2018 - 11:29 pm)
Wow, I didn't think people would actually think this would be a good idea! Thank you everyone for joining! We'll start when the people who have reserved have posted their sheets.
Oh, and please try to get your sheets in soon, if you have reserved!
@Aspen this is something that's rather new for me, so it's totally okay!
@Coyote, I stole part of the idea from a video game, so it's cool!
Oh, and Here's a list of all the characters for my sake.
Samus (Real Name Aero Mortimer) - AI [Danie]
Ray Mortimer age 39 - Detective [Danie]
Enyo age around 22 - Leader of Criminal Network [Kyoto]
Dante (Real name Inferno 973) - Former Battle AI of RedArena Online [Brookeira]
Leigh Tenavrion age 18 - Works for a tech designing company in the ships/jets division [Aspen]
Talia Widner (Real Name Talia Raschke) age 27 - Works odd jobs, avoiding illegal tasks [Abigail S.]
(January 14, 2018 - 11:32 pm)
Inferno 973, 6 years before Armageddon:
She'd lost.
It was her fifth round, ever. She'd done so well in her first two: what had gone wrong? She was smart, and fast, and he'd made her so well.
"You lost."
It was his voice, echoing inside her head. She let out a whimper and curled into a ball, coughing.
"It's okay. It's okay. Now, you're going to have to be awake while I make the adjustments."
"No, Malcolm, please-" Inferno said. She crawled forward, metallic joints grinding. Pain. That's what she was feeling. He'd made her two well, decided to play God instead of simply making an AI. He'd given her a realistic flesh over all of the wires and artificial tendons that reminded her that she was a puppet drawn on tightening strings.
The adjustments began. Inferno screamed and screamed and screamed, though no sound came out of her mouth. She felt her muscles writhe and jerk as they were reprogrammed, new muscle memories implanted, years of training in ten seconds.
"All for now!" her programmer said, blithely unaware of her pain. "See you later!"
His voice went quiet in her head. She lay on the floor till morning, crying without tears to spill.
-----------
Dante, present day-
The hood she'd found made her form all the more menacing. Regal as a hawk stalking into a den of mice, she sat at the head of the bar and stared at the man's back.
She tapped his shoulder and gave him a winning smile. "Mind buying me a drink, sugar?"
The man turned around and looked her up and down, grinning. She grimaced inside, but getting him to look at her was all she needed.
FACIAL RECOGNITION: REDARENA USER: b.heap.kyngsquad (REAL NAME: BARNES HEAP)
AMOUNT OF FIGHTS WATCHED: 369
AMOUNT OF BETS PLACED: 234
WINNING BETS: INFERNO 973 (184 times), HELLRAISER (9 times), SPIDERMONKEY9 (14 times), ORPHANER (19 times)
BETS LOST: 8
He was a talented better. She stroked his arm.
"I think I recognize you from somewhere..." she said, "RedArena Online? Before... you know..."
Barnes preened. "Oh, yeah. Username was b.heap.kyngsquad. Made a mint off this one fighter, Inferno 973."
Dante almost lashed out and caught him by the throat, but schooled her features into an intrigued smile.
"Oh, you knew Malcolm Kyng?" she asked, batting her lashes for all he was worth.
"Hell yeah. He and I go way back." Barnes rolled his neck muscles.
"Did you ever happen to learn his real name?" Dante asked.
Barnes went quiet, then turned to look at her. She'd pushed too far.
"Why do you want to know?" he asked.
"No reason, just a big fan," she said.
"You know what, I think I'll go..." said Barnes, standing up.
Playtime: over.
Her hand caught him by the wrist and she stood up, towering over him. Barnes swore and turned around just as she threw off her hood.
She'd cut her red hair short, but the bar instantly knew who she was. Barnes went white and let out a small cry. The other men backed away slowly.
"Where's MALCOLM-KYNG and what's his real name?" she hissed. Barnes shook his head. She backed him against the wall.
"I asked you a question, b.heap.kyngsquad," she said. The flames in her hands singed his sleeves. He yelped.
"I'm going to count to ten, and on the magic number, I'm going to cave in your skull. 1. 2. 3. I'm getting bored. 7. 8-"
"WESLEY MALCOLM RASCHKE!"
Barnes screamed it. She dropped the blubbering man and stood to her full height, confused.
"The criminal?" she asked.
Barnes nodded, grimacing. "He's long gone, but I know his daughter. Talia Wildner."
"She changed her name." Dante said. She thought for a moment, then put her hood back on and began to walk away.
She'd find Talia and make her bring Wesley to her feet.
------------------------------
Barnes Heap-
Inferno 973. Oh dear. She'd nearly killed him!
Barnes dialed his phone with shaking fingers and spat into it:
"This that Private Eye? Mortimer? A rogue AI just assaulted me. The old Inferno 973. I've got money."
(January 16, 2018 - 9:52 am)
Hey Brook. That was an amazing piece! I love it how you write! Oh also, I think I might actually have to take back my reserve. I have absolutely no time :( School and such. Sorry! I might come in if this is still up and running in a few weeks... If that's possible.
(January 16, 2018 - 12:40 pm)
Name: Richard Morgan
Age: 53
Gender: Male
Appearance: Morgan's hair is fully greyed but still abundant on his head, swept backwards and paired with thick sideburns. He's very pale, with prominent cheekbones, dark blue eyes, and chiseled features. He is very obviously not athletic, but doesn't spend all day loafing either. He wears rich blue suits with gold chains, ties, and button-downs.
Personality: Conniving, cunning, clever, decietful. A master of lies and trickery, of vague wording, of loopholes. Sympathy is not a word in his vocabulary. But don't misinterpret this as cruelty, because Morgan is not cruel; violence is also a word absent from his actions. Morgan's tactics are shady, yes, and tricksy, but he will never kill, injure, or otherwise maim on purpose; he gets where he will fairly, with plays of the mind. Fair, however, is a word up for interpretation. He uses it quite a lot.
Skills/Occupation/Technological Enhancements/Weapons/Etc.: Morgan no longer has his implant. His greatest talent is following the constant change of the economy; his second greatest talent is his ability to break any law without being able to prove it. He used to be good with a gun, but hasn't had the need for one in a long time; now that he's comfortable in Armegeddon, any ideas he might have had of taking shooting up again have been pushed to the back of his mind.
Dislikes technology
Backstory: Richard Morgan is distantly related to John D. Rockefeller, the second richest man to ever live on Earth - and that legacy is not wasted on him, because right now, Morgan is the richest man on Earth. He grew up with a respectable amount of wealth, enough to classify his family as rich. When he became old enough to inherit the family business, Morgan turned it towards the development of simulations and technology, which turned out to be the right choice. Laws restricted him from having a "monopoly," but by all accounts Morgan certainly monopolized his field. He had enough competitors that one couldn't file a lawsuit against him, but they were so small that they posed no threat. Morgan's company was the one that hired Aero, AI genius (if this is okay with you, Danie), after pioneering the AI most similar to the ones she was improving.
Then came Armegeddon, and Morgan's biggest success.
He did not crash and burn like the other one percent; he rose with a new form of innovation and an understanding that this was a lawless country where anything was allowed and it was much too easy to be crushed. But he was never crushed. The ruined world needed supplies; the ruined world needed employment; the ruined world needed someone to rule. Morgan doesn't have any political power, of course. But right now, he might as well be king.
He took workers from homeless shelters and orphanages, rarely paying, and made them work for food and shelter. He produced everything: clothes, food, metals. People clamored around him and his products. The monetary system was delicate, and there was no way to compare prices, so they paid whatever he made them pay. If they couldn't pay, they worked.
When Morgan had established himelf comfortably - which didn't take long at all - he began hoarding. Clothes, food, real estate, anything and everything that could possibly benefit him if, by some impossible happenstance, he was to suddenly crash and burn.
But, while he hoards and schemes, he still operates so that he can and always will be in control. Current projects: hiring crime bosses to prevent hijacks or assassinations, in exchange for free necessary products; establishing a firm monetary system so that his wealth could be properly calculated. Note that this hiring of crime bosses is more a form of insurance than anything; Morgan knows that he's likely in constant danger and wants to remove as much of that danger as possible, while simultaneously setting up protection against it.
Password: Cipher
Other: N/A
(January 16, 2018 - 4:49 pm)
I kinda want a start, so we're starting! I'll post my bit soon.
Oh, and people who have reserved try to get your sheets in soon, but don't stress kay?
(January 16, 2018 - 5:58 pm)
Okay. I'll probably post Thursday. Also I'll be adding an AI charrie that I came up with, I just need to post the charrie sheet. I'm drawing her too, but... anyway... gotta go.
(January 16, 2018 - 9:12 pm)
@St. Owl totally cool with that!
***
Ray Mortimer sat on a circular table in the back of the room, unconsciously holding his gun holster beneath his coat. The crowd in front of him bustled wildly, energetically shouting at the robdog cage fight. While chaos like this was nothing new to Ray, he still couldn't help feeling slightly uncomfortable.
The man he was looking for stood closer to the cage, seeming to be in a neverending state of smirking. His posture was horrendous, making him seem shorter than he was, and his eyes darted around with confidence and pride.
His name was Gavi Newter, a well-known cyborg who stole his mechanical parts from Ray's Client, who aims to get them back. He made money off of betting on robdogs, usually manipulating the opponent by sending signals from his robotic components. He's a liar, a psychopath, and a criminal. The people he had caused to die just for his enjoyment were too many in number. One of the few times Ray was sent to ruin a bad guy, though at this point Ray tried not to care who he killed.
Ray dusted off his coat, and quietly stood up from his chair. Trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible, he slowly walked toward Gavi. The man gave Ray a glance and grinned a lopsided smile.
"I haven't seen you around here!" Gavi clapped him on the back, leaning against the barbed cage with an air of ease and drunkenness. "What's your name?"
"Neke. You're Gavi right?"
"The one and only. First time robdog betting?" Gavi shifted his belt, his smile not going away for a second as he continued to stare at the cage.
"I guess you could say that," Ray spied Gavi's robotic arm under his sleeve, and pointed at it. "So you actually are a cyborg?"
Gavi shrugged. "That's me." He lifted his other sleeve to reveal that the other arm is robotic as well. Smiling lightly, he put a hand to the side of his lips and whispered, "Oh, and don't tell anyone this, but I even have an enhanced implant."
"Wow," Ray gave a weak grin, trying his best to keep Gavi in the conversation. Which was proving to be difficult. Ray never had to do this much talking.
"This is taking longer than it should," Ray could hear a cold and frustrated voice coming out of the receiver in his ear. Samus. "Look, I still need his voice in order to decode the password to his implant. Just keep talking to him, or just stay near him. Figure it out!"
Ray sighed, gave another small smile at Gavi, and hoped this would end soon.
* * *
Gavi kept trying to insist that Ray take a drink, and he shook his head each time, mumbling some excuse with every one. This, however, didn't stop Gavi from getting tipsier.
"Samus please hurry up," Ray muttered under his breath, quickly pulling Gavi to his feet when he fell down. "I might have to resort to killing him soon."
"But then there's the chance of his robotic parts being ruined," Samus snapped. "Look, I'm almost done. You can wait a bit more, I know you're a patient person."
"Hey, Neke." Ray brought his attention back to Gavi, who was continuing to speak nonsense. "Do you know what gsv ylnyh luu means?"
"...No?" Ray tried to get this to the attention of Samus, but she was too busy with the password to hear him. Either way, Ray felt that it didn't sound like any language he knew. Or any language at all for that matter. Perhaps a code? "Should I?"
Gavi laughed. "I suppose you wouldn't. Just a little inside joke.
"Neke, you don't seem to be scared of me," Gavi leaned forward, his usual smile now gone. "I mean, everyone around me in this place is obviously scared of me, though of course, they're smart enough to hide it. But you. You are a bit different. Don't you understand what I'm capable of?"
Ray didn't quite know what to say to that. "You haven't killed me yet. So why now?"
"While a reasonable answer, I'm afraid it isn't too reasonable in this situation," Gavi started to press buttons on his robotic arm. With a shock of realization, Ray realized Gavi was starting to disappear.
"Wha-"
"Why would I actually show myself at these events?" Gavi grinned, flourishing arrogantly. "Hologram, my man. I would think you would know about this sort of stuff, Ray Mortimer."
"How did you-"
"You do a horrible job of hiding your identity, detective," At this point, Gavi's eyes were only visible. "So long, Mortimer. The Bomb's off."
And just like that, an explosion too loud and too fast threw Ray off his feet and into the now burning tables.
His consciousness slowly was whisked away, the frantic voice of Samus becoming the last thing he hears...
And then Ray woke up. Standing up straight, the covers of his bed woven around his legs and chest, Ray placed a palm against his warm forehead. His clothes were wet with sweat, and his heartbeat was fast and fearful.
That was one of his worst missions. A complete failure, resulting in all of the bystanders' deaths. He only managed to get out alive because Samus had friends in strange places.
Slowly getting up from his torn and creaky bed, he put on his clothing and stumbled out of his hotel room.
The implant in his head was buzzing. Turning on its display, he saw that he had one missed call. A client.
"This that Private Eye? Mortimer? A rogue AI just assaulted me. The old Inferno 973. I've got money." The voice was croaky and nervous, and in a rush for some reason. Either way, it peeked Ray's interest.
Inferno 973. An AI from the game... RedArena Online? He was never quite familiar with those video games. Either way, sounded like a possible job.
He clicked on his wristwatch. The display blinked a few times, loading, before releasing Samus and placing her in front of him.
"I heard it," Samus told him, flatly. She placed a finger to her lip in thought. "It'll be tricky, that's for sure. Inferno was one of the strongest AIs back in her day, and I wouldn't assume that isn't true anymore. You up for it?"
"Sure," Mortimer sighed, then called the contact to confirm money and information.
Just another job.
* * *
A bit rushed at the end, but I don't have a lot of time at the moment.
(January 16, 2018 - 8:39 pm)
The motorcycle barreled down the road and Talia, for the first time all day, breathed. This was what made her feel alive— the roaring in her ears, the weight of the exhaust in her lungs, the stinging of her palms as they clutched the handlebars, the intoxicatingly unfamiliar sensation of being able to feel. It was a spot of startling clarity among a blurred existence, in which days were weeks and weeks were minutes and minutes were years and years were torture.
The riding distantly reminded her of being in the backseat of her parents' car, watching as the city lights outside the window streaked and smudged into neon strips, the security of being able to disregard the stresses of direction and navigation and just enjoy the trip.
This particular trip was unfairly brief, and soon enough she slid from the seat, pulling off her helmet and stretching, relishing the subtle ache of her muscles. The boxy house she now stood in front of was the home of one Barnes Heap. He lived a short distance from the nearest city, but it might as well have been on another planet. Since the Armageddon, human progress had sharply cut off at cities' boundaries as people flocked to more populous places in the hope of finding jobs, causing areas like this one to be disturbingly rural by contrast.
She'd been working for Heap for almost two weeks, doing errands and other such menial tasks. She didn't like him, but he paid decently enough, though he never seemed to work. She had her suspicions about where the seemingly endless supply of cash that flowed from his pockets came from, but she kept those to herself.
He couldn't have been more than five years older than her but acted as if he was her elder by a far greater span, regarding her with a predatory distaste that made her skin crawl. Presently, he stood on the porch in khaki slacks and a rumpled button-down, staring into the distance with an agitated expression on his normally smirking face.
"Hey!" Talia shouted, and Heap jumped a foot in the air. He had been oddly on edge all day, starting at small sounds and repeatedly glancing over his shoulder like a wanted fugitive.
"I've got your package." She strolled over to him and held it out. It was about the size of a microwave, sloppily wrapped in brown paper and surprisingly light. She liked to play a game with herself and try and guess what was in the parcels she was assigned to retrieve. Her favorite theory was that he collected novelty socks.
"Thanks," he said distractedly, and took it, turning to go back into the house. She coughed pointedly, and he stared at her, trying to fathom why she was still there. The realization came to him, and he sighed, reaching into his pocket.
"Here." Heap handed her a few crumpled bills (more than her allotted pay, but hey, she wasn't going to question it), which she silently accepted, tucking them into the lining of her helmet.
She got back on her motorcycle, riding slowly back toward the city. The sky was sort of pretty at this time, and she tilted her head back to look at it. It was a deep pinkish gray the color of a dusty rose, dark enough that the stars were just visible as vaguely outlined twinkles. If there was one good thing about the Armageddon, it was that she could now see the stars.
The world out here was gray on brown and brown on gray, a faded, ghostlike echo of forgotten beauty. Stone on dirt on dying trees on dark fog, on— was that a flash of red?
Almost as soon as she registered its presence, it disappeared. Talia spun around, trying to locate the source of the color, but there was nothing there except for muted hues and broken rocks. She stared at the spot where she thought she'd seen it for a moment more before shaking her head to clear it. It must have been a trick of the mind.
The next day, when Talia showed up to work, Barnes Heap was dead in his kitchen, slumped over a table with a hole singed straight through his torso.
——
Well, this advanced the plot... not at all. Oops? I just really like writing unnecessary pensiveness and description. Brooke, I really like the idea of Talia's father being Dante's programmer, and I borrowed Heap for this bit. I hope you don't mind that I killed him off (obviously, this occurred after he had contacted Ray).
I was thinking something along the lines of Heap having told Ray to meet him at his house to discuss the job, and then he shows up and finds him dead and Talia present. ... I don't know. Obviously, no one has to follow through with my awkward ideas.
(January 16, 2018 - 10:45 pm)
plz post!
(January 17, 2018 - 6:14 pm)
It appears that yu've already started, but do you mind if I join? This looks really cool and I have my character planed out.
Name: Xhyla Andorak
Age: 21 (If that's too young I'll change it)
Gender: female
Appearance: Long hair dyed bright white that turns to black at the roots, cold violet eyes, pale, perfect skin with no freckles. She is 5'7". She wears futuristic looking silvery or black leggins and a white and silver halter top shirt. She has a high-tech fingerless glove type thing that she wears everywhere. It's actually a weapon that shoots a laser that can stun people. She couldn't afford a regular implant as a child and never got when later in life. She had an enhancement put in to help make her deceptions more convincing.
Personality: She i deceptive and cold. She isn't really mean or ruthless, but she knows what she wants and does whatever it takes to get that, no matter who she has to hurt in the proccess. She is a double crosser and can't be trusted. She is good at pretending to be shy, kind of friendly and pretty talkative around anyone whho cares to notice her, often just so she can betray them later.
Skills/occupations/technological enhancements: She is an excellent fighter who is good at decieving people. She had an enhancement put in to help make her deceptions more convincing, but sometimes it makes her consider being truly friendly to others and maybe not betraying them. She works for an organization that wants to take over while everyone else is recovering from Armageddon. Her job is to spy on organizations that want to do good and help the recovery of the world, and then bring information back to her organization.
Opinion on tech: She loves it and thinks it is very useful
Backstory: Xhyla was born as Kate Cassick. Her father disappeared when she was only 4 and neither she nor her mother knew where he went. Xhyla later found out that her father had been meeting up with a mysterious group of people who were supposedly discussing plans for "an important future event." Xhyla suspects that he had something to do with Armageddon.
After her father left, it was just her and her mother. They were very poor because her father ad been supporting the family. Xhyla's mother earned whateer money she could, and Xhyla spent lots of time home alone. Her mother always told her that she should be kind and good natured and always work hard, and that eventually good things would come to her. Xhy believed that until she was 10, and nothing good had come her way. Her mother worked hard but could hadly afford food for them, and they lived on the streets. She became angry and sad, and eventually it turned to coldness.
When she was finally old enough to leave home and live alone, she ran away, leaving her mother and her whole life behind. She dyed her jet black hair white, changed her name, and joined an evil organization. Her goal was to erase her past by changing her appearance and status. She was no longer a poor homeless girl. Now she was a strong, cunning, deceptive fighter who worked for people who would one day rule the world.
Other: Her nickname is Xhy. Her name is pronounced Zi-luh, and her nickname is pronounced Zi.
Password: cipher
P.S.- if any of this doesn't make sense with the story you can tell me and I can modify it
(January 17, 2018 - 8:12 pm)
Its totally fine! I don't mind any new characters.
Oh, and sorry I have to be this sort of person, but before the Armaggedon is was required to have the regular implant. My fault for not saying that right off the bat!
Everything else is okay, though the homeless part would happen rarely, and in parts of the world that weren't as well off.
(January 17, 2018 - 11:36 pm)
Sorry to change up on you guys, but I had a really good idea for a charrie yesterday so I wrote it down, but she turned out to be too similar to Leigh but better developed. Also, I'm still going to do that second charrie as well, but I don't have time to post Jinx's and Echo's sheets right now. (those are the characters' names)
(January 18, 2018 - 3:47 pm)
I'm assuming Talia has a weapon.
Oh, and I thought it would be interesting if Talia completely deleted any evidence of her form security, government, and other files. If that's controlling of your character let me know, Abigail!
Also @Aspen, its totally okay, take your time!
* * *
Ray drove his car across the rumbling road, watching the city skyline disappear as he drove away. The man's house was definitely in a less populated area. Despite being only a few miles away from the nearest city, it was practically desolate here compared to the crowded skyscrapers Ray was used to. It made Ray remember that he was lucky his job brought him to so many new places -- Though at this point most new places looked the same.
Stopping the car at a crooked and probably artificial tree, he gave the house a good look, searching for something that might be out of the ordinary. As he got closer to one of the windows, he noticed a slight chip at the bottom of the window frame. Lifting it up as quietly as he could, he saw visible scratches below it. The width of it made him think it must have been a crowbar of sorts.
The thought made him slightly nervous. He breathed in heavily. It didn't have to be a crowbar. It could just be a false alarm. Yes, he could barge in but he didn't want to scare the man.
"Samus, check for signs of life in the building," Ray muttered into his receiver, slowly making his way to the front door with his gun out.
"I only sense one living body," Samus informed, adding, "But that could just mean the killer is still in there."
Ray nodded and decided he can take the chance. If the killer is still in there, he could track him out. "Mr. Heaps?" Ray called out, holding the doorknob as far away from his body as possible. "It's the detective. Here for our case?"
Silence. Ray closed his eyes, counted to three, and kicked open the door.
"Hands up!" Ray aimed his handgun at the first moving thing he saw. A person... Or more specifically, a woman, in her late 20s by the looks of it, midway running away from the scene. She was standing behind the pale and dead body of a lazily dressed man. Ray's first reaction was that this must be Inferno, though that was highly unlikely due to the fact that he was sure Inferno had red hair.
"Who the he-"
"Put your hands in the air." Ray managed to keep his hands steady on his gun, his voice just as calm.
"Okay, okay!" She slowly put her hands in the air, dropping her knife to the floor with a clatter.
"Now, slowly, move away from the body," Ray instructed, watching as she stepped forward. Ray moved himself a bit backward to keep the distance. "Now, who are you and why did you kill Mr. Heaps?"
"...Talia Wildner," she reluctantly told him. "And I didn't kill this man."
"Than why were you standing over his body with a knife?"
"I work for him," she explained, surprisingly keeping her cool despite the situation. "I bring him his deliveries every morning. When I saw the dead body, I took out the knife as a precaution."
While this was definitely interesting information, it wasn't enough to allow Ray to trust her. Still keeping his gun up, he brought up an image of Inferno on his implant display.
"Do you know this woman?"
"I mean, she looks like that AI from whatever that game was, but I haven't met her, no," Talia looked like she was hiding something however, her eyes darting to the ground in thought.
"Was Barnes Heap acting strangely the day before the murder?"
"He was on edge that day if that's what you mean," She glanced back at Ray. "When are you going to let me go?"
"Ignoring her, Ray muttered into his receiver, "Samus, do a scan on her for me."
"Fine," Samus sounded exasperated, sometimes muttering while searching for possible IDs. "...Huh. I can't get any information on her. Either she didn't exist before the Armageddon or she destroyed all evidence of herself. Both are highly unlikely."
With that information, Ray looked back at Talia and shook his head. "I need more information. Your face does not bring up any files. Could you care to explain?"
Talia's eyes widened for just a moment.
* * *
Decided I wanted to leave her response to you, Abigail.
(January 18, 2018 - 7:03 pm)
Enyo (third person just this once)~
“You know what I hate the most about blabbering idiots like you?” Enyo asked in a calm, yet petrifying voice.
The man in front of her was on his knees, flanked by two assassins. He shivered as he slowly shook his head.
“You’re so...boring. Ordinary. No fun.”
“Please!” the man suddenly burst out. “I have a child, his mother died. He doesn’t need a dead father too!”
“Death is merely a moment in time when one thing simply isn’t existing any longer,” Enyo muttered, though more to herself. “But don’t worry. Your son will one day die too. Maybe quicker, hopefully. That way he won’t suffer for long without food provided by his father.”
“NO! No, PLEASE-“
His pleas were silenced by a single gunshot, given by Enyo herself. Normally she wouldn’t deliver the final blow, as it could be tedious, but she was just so BORED. She would do anything rather than stay still.
Enyo burst up, walking quickly out the door and down the hallway, down another hallway, and yet another hallway.
She walked into a room where other people considered to be in the villainous category met. The room was huge, the size of a ballroom but with a balcony all along the side of the wall for those on the second floor that wish to attend the meeting. But that was only the overflow area for world meetings. The ballroom was very dimly lit, and many faces of those could be somewhat seen, but not “Enyo.” In the centre of the ballroom was a massive table, where each person had a large space for their own, a name placement (and the flag of their country), and a mic resembling a desktop microphone. But Enyo was just the secretary to the “real” Enyo, posing at the end of the table.
“Miss Canahram,” the supposed “Enyo” said impatiently. “We have been waiting.”
“I apologise, ma’am,” I replied. I quickly took my place in the chair slightly behind her with a pen and pad.
“Now, I believe Mr. Newter wanted to start off?”
“Yes. Thank you,” the man responded, leaning slightly into the mic. “Recently, I have been running into trouble. A detective, one by the name of Ray Mortimer is on to me. I thought I disposed of him, but news is he’s still alive. I want to ask for greater resources to permanently wipe him.”
“That is outrageous!” a man with a heavy London accent gasped, slamming his hand on the table. “You’ve been given far too many resources, Newter. We are all quite done with that act. No one believes you any longer.”
“It is not an act, Jonton,” Newter huffed back. “I want to survive, don’t you see?” He turned to “Enyo.” “And you’re not doing anything about it.”
Suddenly a gun shot went off from the balcony, and “Enyo” slumped on the table, blood pooling from beneath her head.
I stood up calmly. “Let’s get this cleaned up. Fortigo.”
The code automatically caused the gunman to be shot as he dropped from the balcony, and Newter was shot with him.
I looked unsurprised at the two more dead bodies. “Oh my. Shall we postpone this meeting until Enyo may recover?”
The others looked unsurprised also as they stood up slowly, and their own private security filed them out. As the assistants of the old Enyo began to clean up the mess in the ballroom, I walked out, headed down to my unofficial office, and gave out a code to my spies to let them know they should keep a closer eye on Ray Mortimer.
I may not be so bored after all.
(January 18, 2018 - 9:10 pm)