December 21, 2012. The Armageddon Plague made its appearance in Mexico City. In 7 days, almost every person in the city was dead. The few people who had survived by fleeing or by a rare natural immunity became carriers, and the Armageddon Plague spread. Soon, all of Mexico had turned into a landscape of the dead and dying. The countries of the world rushed to send humanitarian aid. Ships from the United States, Great Britain, France, Russia, and China flocked to Mexican seaports to offload medical supplies, food, and water. But what the rescuers saw horrified them, and then killed them. They discovered just what the Armageddon Plague did. At first, although you were infected, nothing much seemed to happen. You thought you might have a cold. After a few days, you thought you might have pneumonia or the flu. On the 5th or 6th day, your face and body would erupt in boils leaking blood and dark pus, sending you into horrible pain. By the afternoon or late evening, the pain was so bad that you could not stop screaming. On the morning of the 7th day, your stomach cavity would be gone, dispersing millions more pathogens into the air, and you would be dead. The disease seemed like a carefully choreographed routine designed to provoke terror and spread itself as far as possible: a pathogen genetically engineered by some higher intelligence. The suddenness of it, the fact that you would certainly die if you caught it, as almost everyone did. The visual horror of watching a person's entire body leak prodigious amounts of blood and pus horrified people. But most of all, the disease utilized the human body as an unmatched dispersal system. Human medecines did nothing. Quarantine did nothing because there were too many people already infected. After 2 weeks of watching both Mexicans and aid-givers constantly die, Earth's developed nations gave up trying to help the infected people. They went into survival mode. U.S. Border Patrol prohibited people from entering the United States, but desperate Mexicans trying to escape found their way through. A carrier group comprised of several different navies blockaded the waters, but two submarines designed for drug-running but turned into escape vessels almost got out. As Texas started to become infected, the U.S. decided to take drastic measures. B-52 Stratofortresses bombed Texas with nuclear weapons. After the area had been "sanitized", the government built a steel wall, 20 feet high and unbroken, along the entire Texan border. Slowly, they bombed more and more of Texas, and managed to eliminate the pathogen from it. The wall was rebuilt along the Mexican border. But this time, the wall displayed the full military might of the United States of America.Vulcan Cannons were set up along the wall at regular intervals, using modified AI borrowed from Navy anti-aircraft systems to destroy anything that came within range. Predator and Reaper drones patrolled the border constantly, locking on to any heat signal and firing missiles at it. An identical wall was also built on the Isthmus of Panama, and was eventually extended into the sea supported by concrete pillars and buoys (sp?).It was a desperate measure, forced by desperate times. But it did the one thing that the world needed. It worked. That is, it worked until 2043. June 6, 2043. On the Mexican/American border, it was another boring day of sentry duty for Major Greg Tuckham, United States Army. Sitting in the black, comfortable, padded operations chair, Greg sipped a cup of coffee with a sigh. He had been up until 3:20 in the morning last night fixing a problem with a Vulcan sentry gun. According to regulations, someone else should have been substituting for him today, but of course no one was there. On one of the many monitors facing him, a red question mark appeared, indicating that a Vulcan gun was firing. Half a second later, it turned into a red exclamation point, which meant a confirmed kill. Tiredly, Greg mumbled, "Play video for cannon V23." Regulations stated that he was supposed to view every video of a cannon firing. Of course,thought Greg, regulations are things for lowdown people like me. The brass doesn't worry about replacing me with a substitute today. But it's what their beloved regulations say. As he had guessed, the Vulcan gun's integrated video camera showed it pulveriizing some small animal. A rat or a sparrow or something like that. Suddenly, a klaxon started blaring, accomplaning by flashing red lights on the ceiling. Greg checked the monitor. Cannon V11 was having more mechanical trouble. It was the same one as last night. Annoyed, he clicked the yellow wrench icon that had appeared. The computer told him that there was a blown fuse, just like the previous night. At least he knew exactly what to do this time. Greg was tempted to send some junior officer to do the job, but he knew he could get it done faster himself. A young-looking and eager Staff Sargeant, Brad Hallings, came running up. "Should I call in a few more drones over the area, sir? For extra protection?" "No, it doesn't matter. I fixed this same problem last night. It won't take but a second. Lieutenant Hayes, you'll stay here and manage things while Hallings and I go fix this problem." A petite woman with her hair in a ponytail nodded curtly and took Tuckham's chair. Tuckham and Hallings walked out of the blaring of the klaxons and flash of the red alarm lights into a hot Texan summer. They both climbed into a parked Humvee. Hallings drove while Greg rested his head on the dashboard, half-asleep. After a few minutes, they arrived at the problematic gun. It was housed in a concrete bunker, its muzzle pointing out and covering the area in front. Hallings, holding an M8 assault rifle, walked up to a balcony where he could guard the area previously covered by the now-broken gun.Tuckham opened up the circuit box and got to work fixing the annoying broken fuse. After looking at it for a few seconds, he realized it was a different fuse than the last one, and he needed a different type of fuse to replace it. He instructed the Sargeant to go get it. "Sir," Hallings protested weakly, "I'm not supposed to leave guard duty while the weapon's inactive." "Yeah, well according to those same rules I'm supposed to be on leave today. Screw the stupid regulations. Just go grab the fuse, please." "Yes sir. You're right, I guess. Who's going to come along anyways? The plague killed everyone." Halling slung his rifle over his shoulder and walked out to get the supplies from the Humvee. Greg heard the rumble of an engine. Had Hallings somehow started the Humvee? He was going to get a chewing-out for sure. "Sargeant!" he shouted. Whatever. He could deal with it later, and Hallings probably couldn't hear him over the Humvee's engine anyways. Then he realized it was coming from the wrong direction. The noise was coming from the way the Vulcan cannon was pointing. Some lunatic-a Plague-carrying lunatic- was driving a vehicle at the broken gun. Greg had turned off the electronics so he could work with the circuit box, so the video camera wouldn't be running and Hayes would have no idea what was happening. Somehow the UAV's hadn't found the car, but that was partially his own fault as he hadn't called for extra UAV air support."HALLINGS! GET IN HERE!" Tuckham bellowed. Unholstering his pistol, he leveled it at the bunker's window and took cover behind a crate. There was a screech of tires, and the car's engine stopped. He heard a clank. A twisted metal pole serving as a grappling hook had secured itself on the bunker's window. The hook shuddered as a man started climbing up it. A head appeared above the window, and the pistol bucked in Greg's hand as the man's face became a bloody mess from the bullet. But two more men scrambled over the wall and threw themselves behind the Vulcan gun's supports. He shot one, who rolled around on the floor groaning and clutching his left arm. Then he was forced to duck behind his crate as a hail of AKM bullets flew all around him. Suddenly, the door banged open and Hallings fired a burst from his M8. The gunman sank to the ground, dead.That was close...way too close. I might be court-martialled, but I sure as hell won't be breaking any regulations any time soon, thought Greg. He blew his nose loudly. He thought he had a cold. In reality, Greg had become a carrier of the Armageddon Plague. June 10, 2043. The authorities have realized that the Armageddon Plague is again on the loose. The Army has dispatched a section of Delta Force (a Special Forces unit) to track the Armageddon Plague to its source in Mexico City, and hopefully find a cure for it, in either the form of a drug or an immune person willing to help. RULES 1. GM's word is law, ultimately. But feel free to give me suggestions or tell me if I'm doing something wrong. 2. No takebacks. If you do something, it's in the books. And if it's something stupid, you may pay nasty consequences. Yes, your character can die in this RPG if you do stupid things. 3. You may only apply for one character slot UNLESS you are playing the V-12 Attack Aircraft pilot. Then you may control that character and a character on the ground. 4. Please do not leave the RPG without notifying me. If you do leave or vanish for an extended period of time (a month or so), I will have your character die. 5. Semi-realistic circumstances apply. This means that you cannot dual-wield weapons and expect to hit very much, or get hit by a bullet and expect to keep going like someone threw a stuffed animal at you, etc. 6. Just post your character sheet in this thread to sign up. However, you may not start playing until I say so. I don't want people still joining in the middle of the RPG. Characters: Delta Force Team Leader - Lagoran Delta Force Team Member 1 - Delta Force Team Member 2 - Delta Force Medic - Delta Force Light Machine Gunner - Delta Force Demolitions Expert - Pathogen Scientist - Although this character has a civilian background and is not necessarily expected to be an extremely capable soldier, he must still be able to handle a weapon. He doesn't have to carry anything more than a pistol if you prefer it that way. V-12 Comanche Attack Aircraft Pilot - APC Driver 1 - APC Driver 2 - Character Sheet Template: My Character Sheet: P.S. The M8 is simply the XM8 with the Experimental X designation removed. In my fictional world, I chose my favorite gun to be the U.S. Army's standard-issue weapon. P.P.S. People playing the roles of vehicle drivers will be PMed more information about their vehicles. In the RPG, an NPC will explain the basics of what the vehicles are. All you have to know about them now is that the V-12 is basically an attack helicopter that can convert into a propeller plane and the APC is a big, 8-wheeled tank that holds several people and has a 30mm cannon in a turret on top. Still if you want more just PM me and I'll be happy to oblige.
I'm bumping this thread because I made an error in which the 'approved' message was not visible. This game is open for playing unless the GM says otherwise.
