Outlaws People are people. We all have hard times and we all have times where we fall. But we always get up from our falls. Or at least some of us do. For those who fell so hard to the ground and have no way to pick themselves up we have a job for you. We call you the Outlaws. You get your own facilities, your own supermarkets, and a family...well that is if you can have one. Your servants, employees are all robots to keep you safe. Some people call this Quarantine, but we call it a safety requirement. The commercial was a lie, all though you got up from the streets, all though you had money, you hadn't stopped falling. An Outlaw is marked by a barcode on the neck the same as every other Outlaw. An Outlaw is basically someone who is or once was human. They were injected with chemicals that altered their body's chemistry. Changing them and leaving them with incredible gifts. The life as an Outlaw is lonely. You are kept in a hologram city, away from the real bustling city full of non Outlaws. You make an okay amount of pay, enough to give you something to eat though your living quarters aren't exactly the most well kept. And there is another catch, the Outlaw project is in debt and you know who it falls on? It falls on you. That's right you have to pay 2 million dollars of debt, each. Not together, each. Separately. How are you going to get the money? Easy the government wants to send you on a planet that they are having war. So they can use your abilities to fight. The planet is far away and you leave tonight. What the government doesn't know is that you may never reach the planet. Game The game takes place in the ship you crashland into. That is right, its a giant science lab ship. And there are some nasty badies in the ship. You have to find a way to survive and escape. Either back to earth or to the planet of war. But who knows you may not even survive the badies in the ship. You may all just die. Your Profile Name: [The name of your character] Age: [The age of your character: A nice selection of ages 10-90] Outlaw Number: [I'll be giving these out no need to write in this yet] Ability Injection: [What is the ability they are making you experiment] Injection affects: [The injection probably has done some negative things to your health or something, explain] Race: [Either the injection has left you human or has alter your DNA and Genes somehow, explain] History: [Tell us about yourself, your past] A Series of Question We Would like to Ask you[This is part of your profile]: Personality: In three words, how would you describe yourself? Style: What kind of clothing style do you prefer, goth, emo, etc.? Likes: Do you have any likes ice cream, music? Dislikes: Is there anything you dislike? Hobbies: What are your hobbies? Today[Part of your profile]: Clothes: What clothes did you put on today? Any reason why? Appearance: Describe yourself Thank you, We would just like to thank you and say you did a wonderful job filling out our forms. Have a nice War time. And we would like to see your smiling faces again. Goodbye and have a fun departure from Earth. Yours Dearly, Prime Minister Jacob Fisher
My ProfileName: Joshua 'Josh' Page Age: 15 Outlaw Number: Ability Injection: Machinerization(Turning him into a machine. He has all the skills in his disk and can use them whenever he wants. His body is filled with weapons. Injection affects: Skills is temporary. Is a waste without a battery. Utilizing skills takes a little time and he cannot move at that time. Race: Cyborg History: A Series of Question We Would like to Ask you: Personality: Kind, Honest and Patriot. Style: I love Machine Armor with technological design. Likes: Oily food tastes brilliant for a Cyborg. Dislikes: Earlier water could ruin my system. But at that time I hated water so I hate it now also. Hobbies: I don't get time for hobbies. Today: Clothes: I am wearing Machine Armor which is my favourite. Appearance: Wearing a Machine Armor makes my look big but I am not that big,
Name: Corson Asmodai Age: 27 Outlaw Number: Ability Injection: Imperfect invisibility. Requires time and concentration, or risk small parts remaining visible. Injection affects: Several black marks run around his wrists and ankles. When his power is activated, the invisibility originates from these circles. They look like birthmarks, but are darker than usual. The marks itch like hell. Race: Human, yet severely dilated pupils, which leads to a high sensitivity to light. These kind of people are revered to as “Darkwalkers”. History: Grew up on the street, and joined the Outlaw project after seeing the commercial. He has enjoyed his life, right until he first received his injection. Ever since, he has been a bit jittery, using his power to move around, and only at night. A Series of Question We Would like to Ask you[This is part of your profile]: Personality: Jittery, usually kind, as long as he’s not pressured. Style: Dark clothing, if possible. Thick socks and gloves, to keep him from scratching his marks. Likes: Shadows, cold drinks and silence being silent while others talk. Dislikes: Bright lights, the Project and the damn marks on his wrists and ankles. Hobbies: Reading and watching others. Today[Part of your profile]: Clothes: Black trousers, black sweatshirt, black army boots. Black trench coat. Appearance: Short brown hair, brown eyes (with extremely dilated pupils, leaving only a small ring of brown around the pupil), extremely pale.
Name: Kiara Reynolds Age: 25 Outlaw Number: Ability Injection: Technokinesis (control of machines) Injection affects: Her ears are sensitive to high pitches, so she drowns them out with an MP3 player. She must constantly use her power or she shocks herself. Race: Cyborg (she's controlled machines to improve her body) History: When she was injected, she was placed in a lab to moniter her. She controlled and played with machines until she was 13, when she was set loose. She got all the money she wanted from computers, and messed around with people. A Series of Question We Would like to Ask you: Personality: Wild, intelligent, manipulative. Style: Techno-goth Likes: Music, anything technological, dating men and/or women Dislikes: Animals, authority figures, liquids Hobbies: Messing with people and machines Today: Clothes: Leather pants and vest around an undershirt. Tons of buckles and a fur collar. Sunglasses. Appearance: Tall, pale skin and dark hair. Attractive.
Name: Damien Hertz Age: 22 Ability Injection: The government had no idea at this point he was used for them to determine what their manipulation would do. Injection affects: Mutation Race: Damien found his body structure changing. He grew two foot bring him to an intimidating height of 7'2 however he has reverted to moving on all fours only standing when he is challenging someone. His knuckles have developed a hard layer of skin as a result of this and his fingernails have become like small claws. His face has changed with his eyes sinking back further into his head and general appearance becoming more wolf like matched by a set of serrated teeth that don't fit in his mouth properly which gives him a distinctive speaking style. History: Damien was a common criminal and after a series of high profile burglaries he was jailed. There the government offered the potential for an early release by been a test subject in a new experiment. With 20 years ahead of him Damien jumped at the chance and was the first batch to be tested on... He should have stayed in prison. Personality: Devious, calculating, bitter Style: Gothic Likes: Revenge Dislikes: The government, they changed his life forever. Hobbies: Has lost interest in his previous life. Clothes: He wears combats as they allow the greatest level of movement. An oversized hoodie with the hood up to mask his appearance and the sleeves covering his hands. He wears chokers on his arms (spikes roughly inch) and one around his neck (1 inch) Appearance: Bald as a result of the injection, sunken dull eyes the black of the pupils has shrunk and lack colour.
Name: Sam Age: 16 Outlaw Number: Ability Injection: telekinesis Injection affects: Splitting headaches and nosebleeds accompany any use of this power. Also, when she feels emotion strongly – anger, fear, love, etc. she cannot control those powers. For this reason, she tries to remain unfeeling about anything. The injection has also given her night terrors. Race: still human History: She was a runaway who ended up a petty thief. With the promise of money and a decent place to live, Sam jumped at the opportunity. Personality: stoic, self-doubting, loner Style: emo-ish. Likes: dragonflies, honey, and willow trees Dislikes: heights, spiders, and social situations Hobbies: drawing, poetry, research Today: Clothes: Sam is wearing black pants, black t-shirt tucked in, and a man’s black dress shirt with a fleur de li where a pocket would be. She also has black arm warmers (those emo kind you can find in hot topic). She always carries a long knife in each clunky boot. Appearance: She is medium height and slender. Super straight, long, golden hair frames her pretty face and big green eyes. She also has a scar over her left eye, extending from her forehead to her cheek.
Name: Tommy Age: 20 Outlaw Number: 104 Ability Injection: "queen carrier" - Tommy carries a deadly disease and is able to spread it. Injection affects: He throws up kind of a lot, and the whole disease-carrier thing doesn't help his social life too much. Race: human History: High-school dropout turned male prostitute. After being evicted from his crappy apartment somewhere in Central Phoenix, he refused to ask his parents for help and turned to the Outlaw project. Quick fix, right? Personality: For the most part, Tommy's a real laid-back kid. He has a tendancy to say things as they are - or, at least, how they look to him. He comes off as kind of a bitch sometimes. Style: Classy. Lotsa fancy trenchcoats and turtlenecks and whatnot. He wears a lot of white, black, and red. Likes: video games, Girl Scout cookies, splatterpunk, double-dates Dislikes: asking for help, his job, peanut butter, being alone Hobbies: video games, spending time with friends, singing (even though he sings like a tractor engine) Clothes: Dark red turtleneck sweater under a close-fitting black trenchcoat. His sweater sleeves are a bit too long, with holes cut out for each of his thumbs. He wears black slacks and black dress-shoes. Appearance: Tommy's 5' 1" and ballerina-thin. His eyes are a greyish-bluish kinda color and he's really pale. He has shoulder-length, dark-brown hair that he never bothers brushing.
Name: Ekaterina Lagshmivar aka Eka Age: 24 Outlaw Number: Ability Injection: Stasis, able to severely slow moving objects for a limited time only. Injection affects: everytime she uses the stasis her body takes a toll, usually in the form of large black organic substance (she calls it corruption) which has started to envelop her right arm because thats what she uses to aim. consequently it stays hidden. Race: she's human for now but its obvious that shes changing but doesn't know what it is yet. Sometimes the corruption has a mind of its own. History: Eka doesn't remember anything before recieving the injection. A Series of Question We Would like to Ask you: Personality: Aggressive, Proud, Loyal Style: Goth Likes: she can't remember much but, so far she likes cigarettes and an occasional shot of vodka. Dislikes: Discrepencies and mistrust Hobbies: She writes poetry in a language she doesn't even know. Today: Clothes: Black Jeans and matching halter top under a black jacket. They were the clothes issued to her. Appearance: She has short(like Keira knightly in Domino) fiery red hair and deep brown eyes. She is 6'0''.
Your Profile Name: Blaine Age: 24 Outlaw Number: 105 Ability Injection: Super strength by fortifying immune systems natural responses.[Meaning forcing my bodies immune system to give me extra human strength like throwing a guy into the wall] Injection affects: Have to take injections just to get the immune system to fortify, leaves me cranky, and full of stress. Race: Human History: I never knew about my dad. Grew up in a household with my mom and then one day we had a fire. The apartment was lost and she was lost. I lived on the streets until the Outlaw project. They lied to me, change me, and now I am here. A Series of Question We Would like to Ask you Personality: Cranky, Stressful, Angry Style: Whatever I can find in the dressers Likes: Silence, when people shut up basically Dislikes: Arguments Hobbies: Making coffee Today Clothes: Midnight blue t-shirt, baggy black cargo pants, a jean jacket with patches on it, and combat boots. These were the only clothes I could find and the jacket is a favorite of mine. Appearance: Light skin, some stubble[manly stubbles as some people call it], muscular, somewhat attractive, black hair, green eyes Your Profile Name: Echoius[Echo for short] Age: 19 Outlaw Number: 02 Ability Injection: Classified Injection affects: Classified Race: Classified History: Classified A Series of Question We Would like to Ask you Personality: Calm, Intelligent, Mediator Style: None[Once you get into the military you really have no style ] Likes: Balloons, spacecrafts, the moon Dislikes: Fights, pain, blood Hobbies: Astrology Today Clothes: I just wear the uniform. Tight fitting blue jacket with belt across, nice black pants with knew high boots. A blue hat[ever seen a Nazi hat kind of like those] with golden trimming. Appearance: Some people say I'm young and handsome. I know I have pale skin, light blue eyes, and short light brown hair with bangs.
Name: Simon "Seifer" Fenrix Age: 23 Outlaw Number: Ability Injection: lightning wolf Injection affects: two stages of werewolfism (a regular wolf form, which he can transform into at will, and an uncontrollable enhanced state which only comes out in times of extreme stress) Race: altered werewolf History: He always thought he was a werewolf, but no one would believe him. After being called insane for his delusions of lycanthropy, he decided to isolate himself by submitting to the Outlaws testing. Coincidentally, the injection gave him full control over his werewolf form, proving that he wasn't crazy all along. Unfortunately, it also added a second, more aggressive state that he cannot control -- the lightning wolf. With no way of knowing where or when this beast will come out, he has concluded that the battlefield is the best place for him now, though he is opposed to warfare. A Series of Questions We Would like to Ask you Personality: mild-mannered, laid back, usually unsure of himself Style: baggy clothing (so it still fits when he transforms) Likes: prowling the streets under a full moon Dislikes: water (makes his electrical attacks backfire on him) Hobbies: searching for others like him (search has been unsuccessful thus far) Clothes: long black shorts, black t-shirt, combat boots and gloves designed to fit no matter what form he is in, an oversized hooded trenchcoat, and a silver necklace with a crescent moon on it (he considers it a lucky charm) Appearance: human form: about 5'10" 180 lbs, unkempt black hair, dark eyes, glasses, average build, mildly attractive Appearance: basic wolf form: about 6'6" (standing), grey fur with white underbelly, grey eyes, retains human intelligence Appearance: lighting wolf: a little over 7' standing (typically remains on all fours), bristling white fur with light blue tiger-stripes, glowing blue eyes, fangs and claws made of metal, ruled by animal instinct
Name: Terrence Age: 31 Outlaw Number: Ability Injection: shapeshifting... through touch... and any power that comes with the one touched... Injection affects: crashes his brain and spine at times... Race: Human History: dead broke and took the injection and the cash that came with it... A Series of Question We Would like to Ask you Personality: sad, depressed and pessimistic... Style:usually a dress shirt, slacks and some dress shoes... always looking for work... Likes: the idea that a better life is out there... Dislikes: nearly everything in life... Hobbies: getting up and looking for a way to eat... Today Clothes: white dress shirt with sleeves rolled up... tie... black slacks... black dress shoes(the ones with laces)... Appearance: black male... 6'2... about 160 lbs... medium skin... brown eyes... goatee...
The general of the soldiers stared at the small group of Outlaws that had gathered to pay their debt. The general smiled, it was most likely that the Outlaws would lose like the humans on the planet. For years they have been faking victory, truth is no one could be the Cyberstones. The general walked up to Echoius, his better running soldier, and smiled. "From your observations?" he asked Echoius. "They'll all right some of them looking out their little answers on the sheet...we'll have some problems," Echo replied. The general clapped his hands. And stared at the group. "Listen up you are all here to pay a serious debt the Outlaw project has created, I will be giving you my best and most trusted soldier Echoius, you'll do as he ask and as he says," the general paused, "Because he is second in command...out of the group I will be choosing who is the leader, you'll be getting your envelopes with your numbers from some of my soldiers...you keep those numbers to yourself, but the leader will be getting a number and a golden star...you place that golden star anywhere you want on your clothing and that symbolizes your leader position." The general stared at them. The soldiers in the room that had been patiently standing with envelopes in their hands finally walked up to the group of Outlaws and handed them the envelope that belonged to that Outlaw. "I'll give you a few moments to look at your numbers, write them down remember them well," the general paused, "Any questions before you get on that ship to space?"
Damien stood up from his all fours position to receive his envelope. He took it clumsily and slit it open with one of his claw like fingernails. The paper tearing with ease. He withdrew the contents and looked at the number. His sunken eyes trying to process the information. It meant nothing to him, he wondered why it was so high since he thought he had been one of the first participants. He had to have been for them to mess it up so much. A star was stuck to his hand as well. He frowned allowing his long sharpened teeth to glint from within the confines of his hood that shrouded his face in shadows, how he liked it. So he was to be the leader. Why had they chosen him of all people? Perhaps it was because they thought he could scare the rest into place. At 7'2 he undeniably held a presence othes weren't capable of commanding and he had forfeited his human appearance when he joined the program. He would stand out on the battlefield that much was certain. He attached the star to the top of his hood, he tended to keep it up and if he was to be leading that would be a prominent enough place. He wasn't arrogant this place held no pride to him as far as he was concerned he was still the same prisoner he had been before. The only difference was now there was no longer a promise of a life at the end of the long sentence. He was an outcast through and through and this mission was likely to be the death of them. He looked around the rest of the room trying to see if there was more than one leader or if he was responsible for the entire group. It didn't matter the numbers would thin dramatically quickly he expected. It would make his life a lot simpler to command a smaller task force. That of course was assuming he survived the first wave of attacks as well...
for some reason it decided i should double post just to emphasise my appearance and all powerful leader posistion *frowns*
Corson nervously scratched the marking on his wrist. This had to be done, he guessed. No other way to repay his debt. He was just happy the lights here were dimmed, it helped him relax. A bit. He opened his envelope and was relieved he didn’t get the star. Leader tended to get killed, and Corson didn’t want to be killed. He just wanted to be back at his apartment. And he would be, as soon as this was over It couldn’t be that bad. News from victories reached them every day, news of those who had paid their debt and now lived, truly free. And although he had never met any of them, that didn’t have to mean anything. He didn’t come out much. Darkwalkers rarely did.
Tommy peeked at his number, then folded the paper into fourths and slipped it into his inside-pocket. He probably didn't really need to, but, hey, it looked cool. A glint of gold caught his eye, and he glanced up at the star on Tall Guy's hood. So he was their leader? Tommy hoped he was nicer than he looked. He stared at the star in kind of a daze. It reminded him of the fourth grade, when he was actually good at school. Every Friday his teacher would hand back their weekly spelling test, and his would be topped with a red "100%!" and a gold star. Now he was looking at a similar star, perched on some big monster like a Christmas ornament. The puny brunette smiled in spite of himself. It was cute, in a weird kinda way. Or maybe it was weird in a cute kinda way. He wasn't too sure. ((Did I mention that Damien sounds awesome? Real origional for a RPC. Kudos ))
Blaine stared at the clumsy BUFG [Big Ugly Freak Giant] as he placed the golden star on his hat. Blaine opened his envelope and stared at his number, it was certainly high, but it was a also a low number. It made him a bit upset to know he was not good enough for a higher number. But it even made him more angry to know that the BUFG could get a star, when there was certainly better people for the job. "Pathetic," Blaine said out loud. Echoius laughed a little and smiled as he watched the clumsy man. It reminded him of his grandfather, old hunched over, and clumsy. Echoius watched as he placed the star on his hat. It reminded him of the Sneeches on the beaches. Some hard stars upon thars and others didn't have stars. They were going to have a Sneech for a leader and Echoius thought it was kind of cute in a sweet old way. Echoius walked over to the big man. "I'm Echoius your second in command...I am quite good at reading maps and stars, astrology is my hobby so I know some stuff about space, " Echoius said in a formal manner he didn't like, but it was required of him especially in front of the general, "You'd be great at a child's birthday party."
The soldier stopped short, looking from the man to the envelope. "Are you Simon Fenrix?" "Seifer," the man replied. "That's not what it says on the-" "I don't want my real name attached to this war," he said. "I hope someday I can look back on this and pretend it never happened." "You'll be lucky if you live long enough to look back on anything," the soldier mumbled under his breath before passing Seifer the envelope and departing. "Thanks," he said, though the soldier was long gone. Clutching his lucky crescent moon in his hand, Seifer slowly tore open the envelope. He prayed he hadn't been given the title of leader -- anything but that. The last thing he wanted was to be responsible for someone else's life. It was too great a burden for him to bear. Adjusting his glasses, he unfolded the paper and read it. No golden star. He released a heavy sigh of relief. That's all he needed to see. He tucked the paper into his coat pocket with a smile. "This might not be so bad," he said to himself, looking down the line of fellow Outlaws. Some looked harmless, some looked absolutely treacherous, but he did his best not to jump to conclusions. Don't judge a book by its cover, the thought, just before he spotted one with a golden star, standing a foot above the rest. A big, mean-looking guy, with few signs of remaining humanity. "Don't judge a book by its cover," he repeated aloud, clutching his silver moon.
"Don't judge a book by its cover." Tommy turned to the man who'd spoken, furrowing his brow just a little bit. "That's a funny thing to say," he said. He tugged at his black designer trenchcoat with a thin, dainty hand. Hope he wasn't talking about me, Tommy thought.
Blaine stared at the one who just yelled out don't judge a book by its cover. He turned his head back to stare at the wall. He tapped his fingers and stared at his shoes. He waited for a few minutes to pass. "Don't just yell stuff out like that," Blaine yelled all the sudden to show him how idiotic it was just to yell something out.
"I'm Echoius your second in command."You'd be great at a child's birthday party." Damien pulled his hood back as the man made his comment. He glared down at the man it seemed that the white of his eyes consumed the entire pupil with only a small black dot punctuating the middle devoid of any other eye colouration. If he had the effective remnants of a nose he would of snorted at the comment instead he just brought his teeth to bare. "Damien Hertzzz" he snarled, his words showering spit down on the man. "Let'ssss hope you never get the chance to have kidzzz then. Trauma will only ensue." he kept his sentences short, his language was hampered by his oversized teeth. His lower lips were scared were they had originally been cut open upon that particular mutation. He allowed himself to drop back down onto all fours as he began to feel the weight of his body. His knuckles crunched as they hit the floor narrowly missing Echoius's foot. Despite been on the ground in this crouched posistion it didn't reduce his height to much merely brought him down just under the level of the majority of the other people.
Seifer noticed the short guy beside him was looking in his direction. "That's a funny thing to say," said the diminutive young man. "Sorry," Seifer replied. "I didn't mean to say it aloud. Sometimes I talk to myself... it's a habit." He noticed the little guy was tugging at his coat self-consciously. "I wasn't referring to you," he added apologetically, "just people in general. 'Don't judge a book by its cover.' Those are good words to live by." "Don't just yell stuff out like that," someone called from across the room. Seifer chuckled to himself. "Looks like we've got a comedian over there." He planned to say something in response, but noticed an exchange of words between their leader and second in command. He decided it would be best to keep quiet for now.
Sam’s eyes wandered around the space. Certainly a strange group of outcasts had gathered here now. A soldier handed her an envelope. A twinge of nervousness or excitement made the paper shake. Sam took it without care, tore it open from the side, and looked at her number. A shrug was all it was worth, thankfully. She returned her hands in her pockets, the only way to keep them warm.
