The Wasteland

The Wasteland. Its nothing more than the shattered ruins of Earth. Nothing more than the Scorched deserts and the Frozen plains, nothing is how it shoul be. But then again, How should it be? Nobody knows, nor do they care anymore. The point of existence, is nothing more than to outlive the other guy. Nuclear winter has changed life. However nuclear winter is only one on the list of problems. Natural disaster, such as te erruption of Veuvius, constantly pouring out volcanic sludge. It has drained other areas beneath the surface. Many areas have collapsed into the empty Earth. Life is only a label for the period between creation and destruction. So much is wrong with the earth, It doesnt matter what happens. The weak are preyed upon, and the strong prey upon them.

Then, there are the Cladshells, small bumps of humanity on the scarred planet. Cities, Cities encased in metallic shells, protected from the wasteland, from reality. These cities are protected from nuclear radiation as well as much of the natural disasters. However they arent protected from pollution and crime. The inhabitants are practicaly political servants. They are uncaring of the outside world. As well as no outsiders may enter the cities. And those traveling from city to city must leave only at certain times. When the radiation levels drop to safe levels caravans can be seen leaving the cities, bound to other cities. They must be wary not to linger outside of the Cladshells however because they may be labeled as inproper to enter again. Also they must be wary of bandits and pirates upon the wasteland.

Technology

The technology of the wasteland is simple equipment salvaged or created with no professional expertise. Some equipment is very much advanced, such as the railguns used by the snipers in Merthoks militia. Many pirates use airship, like zeppelins to move from place to place. Many caravans use huge armored trucks to power through the wasteland. Technology is nothing more than a label for what mankind can create. It is as varied as the creators.

Information

Magic and other oddities may be used, As the radiation, not to mention the exposure to aliens and other things (this takes place after everything else in the rp section currently.) Most certainly will have produced an interesting blend of races and powers. I would prefer if everyone started out with two characters, (a Wasteland character, And a Cladshell character). This Rp isnt focused on one area, more the entire earth, so character are guaranteed to be spread out.

Name: Chertun
Side: Wasteland
Age: 26
Species: Human
Height: 6'7''
Weight: 214lb
Hair Color: shaved
Eye Color: Red
Skin Color: Tanned
Special Abilities: Strong, Very survival minded. Knows some chemistr, enough to survive.
Weaknesses: Crowds, social areas.
Fighting Style: Uses a mounted Chaingun off his Horse. A very large horse, armored.
Weapon: Chaingun. PVC flamethrower. Throwing knives.
Outlook: Feels humanity is a broken chain. Doesnt trust anybody.
Background: Lives in Southern America, Where the Gulf of mexico was before the nuclear holocaust. Now its an empty desert basin. Lives on horseback, recently left his cave where e had been for so many years. Is on a quest to find and enter the Metagrail. The Metagrail is like paradise, (think Wolfs Rain style paradise) That is rumored to exist somewhere in siberia, away from any humanity. (siberia is a storm, thats it. nothing but nuclear radiation swirling in a never ending storm). Once lived in a Cladshell, until his family was exiled for aiding Wastelanders.*************************************************************
Name: Aria
Side: Cladshell, Military special operations
Age: 22
Species: Human
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 110
Hair Color: Translucent red
Eye Color: Icey blue/silver
Skin Color: light, almost pale
Special Abilities: A necromancer by trade. Very book smart.
Weaknesses: Sunlight, its not usual in her area. And she doesnt get out very often.
Fighting Style: Not much of a fighter. Conjuration, a governmet issue .38 caliber pistol.
Weapon: .38 Caliber pistol,GI.
Outlook: Doesnt care about the lives of the Wastelanders, Does her job and tries to better the city.
Background: A necromancer, lives in Berlin, Now a Cladshell, and hub of european science. She works in the military special operations department. Has lived there now for 17 years, was born in an Irish Cladshell and later transfered to Berlin. Works with the alchemists to create living dolls capable of moderate thinking, and used as riot guards. Headed into more advanced research, kept secret from the public.
And there you go. Pleases follow that Bio style if you wish to join. Dont care where your character is as long as its not siberia. Pleases join up. This should be a fun rp if we get lots of people.

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*twitch*twitch* can someone please post for real? like not being a fucktard?

Name: Joseph Manzi III
Side: Cladshell, Military Scientist/Inventor
Age: 25
Species: Human
Height: 6'5"
Weight: 174lbs.
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Blue
Skin Tone: Caucasian
Special Abilities: Inventing (On the spot or planned)
Weaknesses: Ordinary Human Male... You know... Squishy and Fleshy and Weak...
Fighting Style: Technology and Strategy
Weapon: Any invention of his. He can also use his laptop to hit people.
Outlook: He has always been smart, and is always looking for a solution to a problem.
Background: Joe was just a normal guy, with a knack for inventing and problem solving. Think McGuyver (sp?).

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McGuyver, yay! good bio, if you can another character (wasteland) would be good, but its not required. thanks for signing up.

You know, this guy is based on a good friend of mine... I got bored of RPing Kalma all the time... time to role play as Joe.

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sounds good to me. but wait, no perverted military scientist? what is this world coming to???

No... Joe is no perv... This guy is all about buisiness... He pulls down 3 jobs at the expense of his schoolwork... We (his friends) all call him crazy.

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Name:Eng. Gabe
Age:27
Side:Cladshell,Millatary Mechanic(they just dont know cars they know guns!)
Species:Human
Height:6'6"
Wieght:223
Hair:Medium Brown
Eye Color:Hasle(u wouldnt believe how many grls said there pretty)
Skin Tone:kinda dark Caucasian
Speacal Abilities:Knows Every Car,Gun, Military equipment by heart,and has a few guns too
Weakness:Aliens
Fighting Style:CQC(Close,Quarters,Combat)
Weapon:Giant Wrench,S.P.A.W.S. Shotgun,40.5 Caliber Magnum,Railgun(on Terrent)
Background:Was a teenager when he joined the army,he's been doing it ever since

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*WHAT I THOUGHT I'D DO WAS PRETEND I WAS ONE OF THOSE DEAF-MUTES*

Name: Tear Falith
Side: Cladshell, Military Scientist/experiment
Age: 23
Species: Human/freak
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 135
Hair Color: Purple with a silver streak
Eye Color: Emerald
Skin Tone: Milky white
Special Abilities: Genentically funked up. ((as cheesy as this is)) Was experimented on by ....some artistic/religious sceintist guy, somewhat a lover of hers. When threatened she becomes all Seraphim-esque (6 wings). Long hair inverses in color/streaks. Has a juicy mangled left arm with large claws pertruding where the hand should be, and warped muscle tissues and veins where the wings pertude. And some of the firey stuff Parasite Eve-ish with the mitochandria. Cries continueous tears of blood when in this form.
Weaknesses: Mental issues like social anxiety, reclusive, non complacant, over-whelmed easy.
Fighting Style: None in particular.
Weapon: De claw.
Background: Employed by the governement, fell in love with the wrong person and is now a genetic freakshow and continues with the experiments.

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He's not having a seizure, he's just roffling. • Behind every great woman, there is an ass. • Fuck Salt! - Tourette's guy

kool. Kalma, slipslash, and Sheebum are in. Unforyunately we have no other wastelanders. Anyway Im glad some people joined. Funny, i though WAIH would join this one. his usual bio would actually finaly fit in. oh well, aint complaining

((How can you invite ...HIM? *jaw drop*))

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He's not having a seizure, he's just roffling. • Behind every great woman, there is an ass. • Fuck Salt! - Tourette's guy

HELL NO!!! i am not inviting him....im saying this RP is perfect for his usual bio....oh god, i hope he doesnt find this.

Name: Jacob
Side: Mercenary
Age: 18
Species: Human
Height: 6 foot even
Weight: 220
Hair Color: silver
Eye Color: fiery red
Skin Color: pale
Special Abilities: A neural device implanted in the back of his neck allows him to hack almost any kind of computer, as well as interface with his armor.
Weaknesses: Social activities
Fighting Style: Hand to hand specialist, former black ops member of the Paris Cladshell.
Weapon: utilizes a kind of battle armor (been playing too much mechassult 2. Here's a place to get a pic of the battle armor from it, and it's basically what Jacob‘s armor looks like http://www.xbox.com/media/games/mechass ... chassault2 ), it covers his body and gives him super strength, jump jets on the back give enhanced mobility, armor also holds a 7.62mm minigun on right forearm, a large rocket mortar (capable of lobbing large high explosive shells about 1,000 yards and knock out anything from a tank to a infantry column) on the left shoulder, and a large claw replaces the left hand that can be used to bash things or rip apart people/doors, armor gives Jacob a extra foot of height. He also carries a 45. caliber 1911 pistol on his hip, and a bowie knife with a twelve inch blade on his back.
Outlook: If you give him enough money... he’ll invade hell. (and be damn good at it.) Your standard a cold and ruthless mercenary. The last guy that tried to screw him out of his pay, got thrown out of the Cladshell he was in. During one of the more hazardous points of the radiation level. He doesn’t really care about money but needs it to live. Also has a deep mistrust of everyone, and hates wastlanders.
History: Born in a Cladshell somewhere in North America. His parents were grain farmers. He was chosen to test a prototype combat system (His battle armor) for the guard forces, at a very young age. (This cladshell indoctrinated 10 year olds and trained them to fight) The Cladshell was destroyed 7 years later, in a wastlander raid. Jacob was the only survivor. After that, he became a drifter (going where ever the wind blew sort of speak). Stayed in Paris for a short time before killing the garrisons commander for trying to jip him from his pay.

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And God looked down upon the mortals and said: "...wtf are you noobs doing on my lawn?"

That's the problem with worshipping the god of schemes. You never quite know whether or not you're being divinely blessed, screwed over royally, or both at the same time.

kool, so hes a wastelander right? and his armor, slightly larger than a human? or is it like a really big mech? .45 colt, nice...vintage weaponry that will forever kick ass!!!!

No he hates wastlanders for destroying his cladshell, and considers himself a bringer of vengeance. But he also hates everyone else, just not as much.

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And God looked down upon the mortals and said: "...wtf are you noobs doing on my lawn?"

That's the problem with worshipping the god of schemes. You never quite know whether or not you're being divinely blessed, screwed over royally, or both at the same time.

ok, kool. However, since he has been exposed to such high levels of radiation he cant enter Cladshells "Legaly" anymore.

His suit protects him from high level radiation. It was designed to fight outside to avoid damaging the cladshell. Most wastlander raids were made during high radiation level periods.

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And God looked down upon the mortals and said: "...wtf are you noobs doing on my lawn?"

That's the problem with worshipping the god of schemes. You never quite know whether or not you're being divinely blessed, screwed over royally, or both at the same time.

k, got it. By the way for anyone wondering, this is the setting for a story im currently working on, thats where it all came from. my sick twisted little mind.

Ahhh... might as well. That is... if I can join. Help me out with the gun names...

Name: Kretdos Syt
Side: Wastelanders, small rebellion located in China, Hong Kong (or Victoria for the weird people)
Age: 21
Species: Human
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 160lb
Appearance: A tall human with black hair, half chinese, half caucasian. His eyes are dark brown with a tint of green, he wears a leather cloak over a black shirt.
Special Abilities: Somewhat skill in fire fights, expert cook, and dead-lock aim due to radiation affects. Prefers the sniper and dislikes close combat. He also has a some wind magics which shifts the speed and direction of said wind.
Weakness: Close combat, and other species (on a social level)
Fighting style: far-range: sniping mid-range: sniping close range: small arms. He seriously is unskilled in close combat, but can use a knife to weaken enemies though he would do better with a shotgun or pistol.
Weapon: SMG, semi-automatic pistol, sniper rifle and a collection of small daggers.
Outlook: Humanity was always faulty, all this is, is another step.
Background: Lives nearby a clanshell over at China, Hong Kong where he leads a rebellion. His family has long since been killed and were the leaders of the said rebellion. He now leads this force with the mindset of either clanshell peace or the extinction of one of the two forces.

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Twitter | Transistor Glamor | Tumblr | MAL

((just in case I get booted off soon I'm gonna do a post))

Tear was once again confined in one of the rather large test tubes located in what was the shell of an old bio lab left in one of the cities within the Cladshell, New York area.
This is where she slept, morphine induced and under precise radiation treatments. This was more of a saftey procedure than an experiement so she wouldn't go on one of those nightmare tangits again killing dozens of military personell and civilians.
It was a beautiful in a twisted sense. The flow of her long hair like the smoke of insence and the wires intermingled in the purple glowing water and into her body...
A dark individual watch her hauntingly. Glasses gleaming in the dim light, arms folding, leaning against a metal stretcher.

((the crazy scientist dude is up for rp, otherwise I'll just do it...fan-fic style))

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He's not having a seizure, he's just roffling. • Behind every great woman, there is an ass. • Fuck Salt! - Tourette's guy

OOC: Dammit i wanted to start. me! me! me!, wahhahaha....oh well nice setting perfect for this rp. and more people are welcome to join as long as the rp is going.*(j/k bout the start thing btw, thanks for getting it moving somewhat. and all characters so far are good, no stupid people joined yet, cept fluxs char, that wont work.)

Chertun looked out across the scarred dessert. The radiation was at a low point. "Good a time as any i suppose." He grabbed his personal affects and mounted up his horse, Drake. Once all his equipment was in place, he adzusted firing controls. "Good, lets roll!" With that they were off, headed north. Hopefully to Southern Floro (Florida, but its been nearly 1000 years from present day and its changed, specialy over the past 50 of nuclear hell.) To find the missionary. "They should know where to begin looking" He thought.

Aria was busy typing away at the berlin military intelligence mainframe. "Berlin 1001101 contacting New York 100110101, Anybody there?" she asked over the headset, hoping to establish contact with another military research department." Anybody there, Aria on standby, over." She set down the headset and leaned back in her chair. She was supposed to be watching the tunneler bay doors, after the incident in the lab last month, she had been assigned to guard duty for a while. "A little sleep wont hurt anyone...." She dozed off for about 15 minutes when Colonel Cross waled in. "Aria!" he said in a stern voice. "You know you cant fall asleep on guard duty! What the hells the matter with you?!?" He demanded. "Im sorry sir, im so tired and i figured a small nap couldnt hurt, it wont happen again..." She said quietly. "It better damn well not, those Wastelanders can access the entire Cladshell from these bays, not to mention The entire Cladshell data archive. Need i remind you we are connectedto every other Cladshell on earth?" He continued..."No sir" Aria answered meekly. "Good, this lab by itself has seen it share of trouble...From the allied invasion in 1945, the terrorist acts in 2047. The Migration, war and peace settlements with countless other species from Lord knows where across the galaxy. This lab even survived The Cataclysm, the rebuilding, the Arkadian invasion, And finaly peace through out the world....And then this, Nuclear Hell..." He finished off, out of breath and less angered than before."That will be all, Good evening." He walked away. "Damn, ill never stay awake at this rate. New york 100110101? is anybody there?" She asked.

Slowly geneticist unfurled his arms, switching his gaze from the woman in the tube to the blipping haloscreen on his desk. Spinning the chair around and taking a seat, he leaned back all casual like,"Yes, New york 100110101 military research department, Venes Trilo Speaking, what is it that you need?" With an index finger, he slid his metal framed glasses up he nose with an arrogant smirk.

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He's not having a seizure, he's just roffling. • Behind every great woman, there is an ass. • Fuck Salt! - Tourette's guy

A small convoy entered the Berlin Cladshell. They had just gotten out of the radiation clearance rooms and were clean of any harmful radiation. Bright light streamed in from the artificial sun, as a group of armed guards came to inspect the convoy. A gruff man came to the lead vehicle, a small data pad held in his hand. “What’s your busses?â€

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And God looked down upon the mortals and said: "...wtf are you noobs doing on my lawn?"

That's the problem with worshipping the god of schemes. You never quite know whether or not you're being divinely blessed, screwed over royally, or both at the same time.

00c:shit, you people get the setting of this rp so well, its scary. exactly as i fashioned it in my story almost. nice werk.*

"This is Aria, and im trying to get in contact with your local alchemy department, however i keep getting busy signals. Could you please redirect me if theyre not busy?"