Role Play discussion
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M.C. Kazon
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Your Mom, title unavailable
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Jun 25, 2013 01:06AM

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Of course. And you've mistaken my intentions on the romance part.
ANYWAYS, why not you do the thinking and I'll do the snoring?
ANYWAYS, why not you do the thinking and I'll do the snoring?

Haha it's okay it was just FYI. Forget abt it.
So, you wanna carry out my plan abt u thinking n me snoring?
So, you wanna carry out my plan abt u thinking n me snoring?


All right. Just be warned that I'm not going to be on GR at night; I'll probably be busy gaming...


So the rich are getter sick and falling apart from the elements created long ago that are destroying the earth. They are paying top dollar to stay in perfect shape and surviving. The poor unfortunately are the unlucky ones, the Meds a group of sadistic doctors can't just steal organs as much as they please. But they do create many 'accidents' that maim the persons senses and get taken to the hospital where they are never seen again. Only way to survive in this world is to stay villigent and out of the public eye as long as possible.
Hmm... Maybe as a team they organized a secret organization, planning a plan of attack and revenge on the rich. Something simple can be very interesting, especially if you add drama in it. We build, we plan, we unite and we fight!

Mine will be a little long so I might suggest you put yours up and running first as to not struggle to create... well, a really complicated character.

Name: Arthur McOwen
Age: 22 Years
Planet: Earth
Current Location: A small hidden village in United Kingdom, England, Europe.
Species: Biological Creature (Male)
Number/Position: Agent 808
Weapon of Choice: A simple pistol and a knife.
Appearance: The looks of a human with a combination of dark brown and jet black hair in a wild and unruly way. He is well-built, although not overly so. With a height of 6 feet, most mortals have to strain their necks when they are at an extremely close proximity. Bulging muscles that sometimes highlighted a scar across his shoulder blade, even as he hated it.
Personality: Intelligent and resourceful, although sometimes it's misused for negative reasons. Diamond-headed when it comes to something he strongly supports but if you knew where to poke and pry, you can probably get through him. Lazy at times but when he is very much interested in something, the adrenaline pumping through him to do it will be more than water in the sea and faster than photons in high-speed. Quite sarcastic and humorous, mostly triggered as a defensive system or to try and mock someone. Loves to stay awake as long as possible to just do non-beneficial actions such as toying with his weapons. Adventurous and very curious in anything he is interested in.
History: No one knows his history. Not even his best friends, and he planned to keep it that way.
Legacies: Unknown to him. Too bad he can't find out, considering he doesn't know the whereabouts of his family.
Family: His father, mother and his very annoying younger sister. Emphasis the word "annoying". Although now he lost all connections to them and all he had was Killian and Anderson, his best friends.
Likes: His weapons, driving dangerously, sports, reading (Storybooks only), mocking people's mistake, music and taking things to the extreme.
Dislikes: People judging him, work, rules, chores and pretty much everything a typical guy would hate. Most of all, the people who take his people away.
Others: ((Under... 'maintenance'))
Age: 22 Years
Planet: Earth
Current Location: A small hidden village in United Kingdom, England, Europe.
Species: Biological Creature (Male)
Number/Position: Agent 808
Weapon of Choice: A simple pistol and a knife.
Appearance: The looks of a human with a combination of dark brown and jet black hair in a wild and unruly way. He is well-built, although not overly so. With a height of 6 feet, most mortals have to strain their necks when they are at an extremely close proximity. Bulging muscles that sometimes highlighted a scar across his shoulder blade, even as he hated it.
Personality: Intelligent and resourceful, although sometimes it's misused for negative reasons. Diamond-headed when it comes to something he strongly supports but if you knew where to poke and pry, you can probably get through him. Lazy at times but when he is very much interested in something, the adrenaline pumping through him to do it will be more than water in the sea and faster than photons in high-speed. Quite sarcastic and humorous, mostly triggered as a defensive system or to try and mock someone. Loves to stay awake as long as possible to just do non-beneficial actions such as toying with his weapons. Adventurous and very curious in anything he is interested in.
History: No one knows his history. Not even his best friends, and he planned to keep it that way.
Legacies: Unknown to him. Too bad he can't find out, considering he doesn't know the whereabouts of his family.
Family: His father, mother and his very annoying younger sister. Emphasis the word "annoying". Although now he lost all connections to them and all he had was Killian and Anderson, his best friends.
Likes: His weapons, driving dangerously, sports, reading (Storybooks only), mocking people's mistake, music and taking things to the extreme.
Dislikes: People judging him, work, rules, chores and pretty much everything a typical guy would hate. Most of all, the people who take his people away.
Others: ((Under... 'maintenance'))

Age: 20 years
Location: As of now, a small nondescript city on the borderline of the large downtown where the rich thrive.
Species: homo sapian (female)
Number/position: No position as of yet. In the Med's eyes another easily available organ donor.
Weapon of choice: hand to hand combat, and a quick stride.
Appearance: Guilia's appearance is undistinguished, and passable. Her hair is coppery red wavy and unmanageable with incredibly fair skin and the musculature of a well trained dancer. She is average in height barely reaching past the mark of 5'6. Barely would get a second glance except for the obvious, her right hand is completely gone replaced by a sloppy scarred stump.
Personality: Once vibrant and outgoing, Guilia has closed into herself becoming stoic and silent. She is passionate but not in the volcanic, explosive manner but more like the silent storm that grows into a monsoon gradually. She is stubborn when she knows that something is amiss, and gets easily irritated when her opinion is overlooked or ignored all together. She is book smart, but also street smart having more experiences then most of her small dwindling population of people.
History: Though she will never admit any of it to be true or myth, Guilia's history is legend among the street. Being the youngest to ever escape the dreaded hospital after being ambushed at home at a fairly young age. She awoke during surgery as they were finished with the removal of her hand and bolted. No one is for sure how she did it. But the rumors are vast and circulate throughout the city.
((Sorry I hurriedly did it on the bus))



Bright surgical lights shone above, blinding and unfeeling eyes staring down at her motionless body. She couldn't move she couldn't scream, as a steady gloved hand lowered the saw closer and closer to her limp white hand. That was their way, steal limbs...strong, healthy and vulnerable arms and legs...to make the rich stronger, faster and glamorous Frankenstein monsters. The more surgical scars you had the more you were respected and admired. They were proud to be showcasing innocent people's body parts, like in the innocent years when they would prance around in fur from animals. She saw the glint of the saw disappear from her sight line and screamed...
Guilia gasped sitting up and nearly tumbling off of her cot, her heart was racing as she ran her hand through her sweaty hair. Every night the same exact nightmare. But could you truly call it a nightmare if it actually happened, it was more a terror she had to live with every minute. Carefully she moved the blanket off of her as she mentally counted the hundreds of cots laid out where children, elderly and the agents still slept soundly, it was a comfort measure to count...to know exactly how many of her people were left. Glancing at the large screen above their heads she noted the time 0300 in the morning. And who was on security detail outside. Security was the most dangerous position of the people, they were the watchman constantly on a look out for any wandering medic or threat to the community. They survived in this large colleseum, sleeping together, eating...and then would split and venture outside to maintain their average lives.
Agent 808 was on guard tonight, she felt slightly more relieved by that fact because she knew he was good, he was focused and wasn't known to just goof off. Guilia knew much about her people but she was the outcast, her cot was moved away from the rest. She did not speak or correspond with any of the others. But she was always attentive, a silent guardian. She would risk her life to save any of them if that's what it came to. Thankfully...they hadn't lost anyone for weeks and that's a trend she hoped would continue.