Alright, so I'm not done with Rp's. Sue me. After reading some books, and taking some inspiration from them I've come up with this Rp. So read it over, join if you want (It's a vital part to making this work). I've got a whole new premise of playing; so it won't be so linear; and it gives all the players more space to move around and do their own thing, while still keeping within the story format. Anyway, do what you need to do. I hope this Rp will be much more satisfying than all my others in the past, put together.



Back Story

The wasteland was barren and dry. It seemed as if nothing would, or even wanted too survive out in the wasteland. But that was until an organization not heard of in the wasteland came and began making changes and promises; that even the Brotherhood of Steel and other 'knightly' groups could not uphold, or give. This organization was known only as: The Iron Lance. They were not like the Enclave, wishing death to anyone with a little bit of mutation, or anything of that nature. But they weren't like the Brotherhood either, wanting control or greed. No, the Iron Lance was a whole new group of wastelanders and scientists, wanting to make a newer and better world for those living along with them. Of course, neither the Brotherhood of Steel or even the now few in number Enclave liked the Iron Lance; and declared an all out war on the new organization which was sprouting up all around what was once St. Louis, and along the radiated Mississippi River; as far as what was once Memphis, Tennessee.

The war following, was written down in the history books; as probably the largest all out war between three warring factions since the bombs falling. Many died, and many were saved not by the Brotherhood of Steel or Enclave. But by the new younger and stronger Iron Lance. This new organization completely kicked the Brotherhood of Steel and the Enclave out of the area, as far as St. Louis to the outskirts of Chicago. Those who were displaced by the fighting were given shelter and food by the Iron Lance; and both the Enclave and Brotherhood began sending anti-Iron Lance propaganda, stating that the Iron Lance was nothing but manipulators, and were only taking in the sick, wounded, and displaced so they would have more people to put under their already powerful thumb. Whether this was true or not, it can not really be said as many people have differing views; some for what the Iron Lance was doing, and some against. Though it's more probably that those against the Iron Lance were payed off with food or caps by either the BOS or Enclave. But whether they were true or not, the eventual end of the war left the Enclave completely and utterly crippled; and left to fend for themselves as their numbers were much more smaller now, than they had been before. The Brotherhood had taken a quick and good beating as well, but fled and hid away in their bases in California and Chicago.

Years following the war, the NCR and the Iron Lance became friends; trading between the two flourished, but still the Iron Lance was still a mystery faction. The leader of the Iron Lance was only known as, Prime Minister Hall. His face could be seen all around the ruins of St. Louis, down to Memphis. He was almost like a god to the people living under Iron Lance rule. His weekly speeches to the people were sounded over loud speakers, and other ways of communication, that had been rebuilt by Iron Lance scientists and workers. Those living under Iron Lance rule were happy and content with their lives, many wastelanders who traveled through just ended up settling the now area between St. Louis and Memphis. After a time, the area between St. Louis and Memphis, became known as the Iron Lance Confederacy or ILC for short. St. Louis became the capital of the ILC, and both St. Louis and Memphis were rebuilt and fixed into working order. The buildings that had been destroyed and unkept over the years were destroyed, and made way for new growth, for both cities; and the towns in between.

Life was good, electricity had returned via the rivers and large generators created to give all cities and towns power. Sewer systems were fixed and rebuilt, giving people cleaner streets and roads. Water was cleaned by ILC water workers, and houses were built to give people good places to sleep and live. But as with any new country or faction, when the people grow to too many. The need for expansion arrises, whether through travel or force; there is always something that could go wrong. And so it did.

In the year 2282, the ILC and their new grand army of St. Louis and Memphis moved across the wasteland, and took control of Nashville, Tennessee. The fighting between ILC soldiers clad in advanced Hellfire Power Armor, which was taken after the war with the Enclave; destroyed the wastelanders fighting back, and took Nashville with quick and fast ease. Following Nashville, the ILC took quick control of what used to be Dayton, Ohio and Chicago, Illinois. The Brotherhood stationed in Chicago was completely destroyed; leaving nothing but burned and bloody bodies. The West Coast Brotherhood stationed in the Lost Hills bunker, demanded that the dead be sent back to them, and that their bodies be untouched by any ILC soldier. The ILC response, BOS Knight, Scribe, Paladin, and other bodies sent without armor, weapons or anything that they had when they had fallen. Not even their holo-tags were sent with the bodies. This act enraged the Brotherhood, but they knew they could not do anything to stop the ILC. The act even sickened the NCR, but the ILC was to large a organization and trading parter now, to do anything about it.

And so, like the ILC had done before; they settled, reorganized, rebuilt, and redistributed the goods and wealth to their people. But that was just the beginning of the end. The Iron Lance Utopia, that so many knew and trusted their lives with before, quickly became one of distaste and fear. It was as if the entire ILC government had flipped upside down, and those in charge had become corrupt with greed and power. No one could stop what the ILC was doing. The typical street officer in the ILC who was clad in nothing but typical Combat Armor, could and most of the time would arrest or even kill someone who did not obey an order given. Newly functional cameras were spread all across major cities and towns in the ILC, leaving no one left alone by the now brutal dictatorship government, still being lead by Prime Minister Hall.

Those who tried standing up against the ILC were quickly put down, and erased from memory and the world. Many disappeared without a warning, and when people asked where someone or people had gone. They too were taken away, never to be seen again by anyone. This act of people disappearing, and never being seen or heard from again; quickly put the people down. The work given was added up, and more hard laboring hours were given to those too poor or to sick to do much else. The rich on the other hand, though no higher really in the social scale than the poor, were given more money, clothes, and all around better deal. They did not have to work, but they were still forced to give enough money to the ILC; just so they could keep their type of living.


To make matter worse, all outside news was closed or censored to the people living in the ILC. No letters or messages could be sent or received without the ILC government going over it, and making a newer censored version. Life in the ILC was become hard, and many minds were at work; some planning and organizing together, thinking of ways to bring down this new government. Whether they succeed or not, it is still up in the air. Many have tried, but failed. Some have been successful enough to actually gain the weaponry, but before they could make a move; the ILC secret police were brought in, and eradicated them. With cameras watching the people 24/7, and the lack of privacy inside houses. A fight against the ILC is almost impossible. But there are still those who dare try, and who knows? Maybe they will be the ones to succeed and bring down Prime Minister Hall and his band of thugs.
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Current Event

St. Louis, Missouri
Eads Bridge, just west of the ILC Headquarters/Government building Tower
January 13, 2284
12:00PM


The sky was a bright star lit night, but it was deluded by the thin black smoke which covered all of St. Louis; due to the factories making power armor, and other weapons of war for the ILC Military. Along the bridge, people coming and going from work quietly walked pass one another, not saying a word as ILC officers guard the two check points at either end of the bridge, checking for any mysterious or dangerous looking people. Down in the river, ILC patrol boats quietly guard the river as three shadowy figures, wait for the patrol boats to pass. They are completely invisible in the dark shadows, not hit by the moon or star light. As the two patrol boats quietly patrol the river with a small search light on each end, the three shadowy figures quickly move into their position underneath the Eads Bridge.

"Get that explosive planted." A woman's voice whispers to the others. Her voice is calm and careful, as not to alert the ILC officers to them. "We don't have all night. We have only one hour before they close and clear the bridge for routine inspection. We have to make this count."

"Alright, alright, just give us a minute would you? This stuff isn't exactly the best stuff to work with." A man whispers in a bit of an agitated tone. The woman looks, though her face is covered by the shadows, he could still tell she was not happy. "I'm sorry Abby, but just don't rush us. We know what we have to do. Now do your part, and keep watch would you." The shadowed man whispers, before turning to the other shadowed figure.

"Here take this, it will make it so the explosives don't go off right away, and give us time to haul ass out of here." The third shadowed figure says pulling out a large un-noticable block looking device from a bag. The voice is also a man, but much younger than the first mans. "This should also add a little punch to the explosion." The young man says, pulling out what looks to be a hunk of strange bendable rubber; while the older man puts the explosive together.

After a few minutes of fitting the bridge with the explosives, the two men double check the bombs; making sure that the timers are in order. Abby quietly sits watching the river, making sure no ILC patrol boat search light comes around the corner. The cool wind blows through her hair, making her pull it back out of her face. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Abby spots a search light coming down the river.

"Hurry up you two, a boats coming!" She whispers a bit loudly. Double checking her watch, she realizes the time, getting up and brushing her pant legs off. "It's time to move." She adds, looking at the two.

"Hold on, the timer is a bit messed with. It will only take me a second." The young man says looking at the timer, tinkering with it.

"We don't have a second. We have to go now. You can still detonate it with the back-up right?" Abby replies looking at the search light as the bow of the boat comes into view. "We have to hurry now!" She says slinking away.

"Damn, alright lets go." The older man says looking at the younger man. They both sigh following Abby, but are too late. Suddenly with a booming voice from a microphone, a voice echoes.

"STOP! STOP RIGHT THERE OR WE'LL SHOOT!" The voice says, a bit distorted but still sounding like a man. "Hold where you are. Don't move or you will be killed where you stand, terrorists!"

The three of them raise their hands, turning to the patrol boat. ILC guards from the check points come down, their assault rifles raised as they shine the lights on the three figures. The older man has a rough poor looking face, and Abby a soft gentle womanly face not too often seen out in the wasteland. The younger man, has a few scars giving him the look of a fighter.

"We're just trying to get back home." Abby said, trying to talk their way out of it.

"No your not." The man on the patrol boat says. "Now hand over that bag to the guards, we don't want this getting messy."

"Hand it over boy!" One of the officers says in a demanding voice, stepping closer. "What were you really doing?"

"Nothing, we're just trying to get home. We don't want any trouble." The young man says handing the bag over. The guard looks inside, finding nothing but empty bags which carried the plastic explosive. The guards look the three over, scanning their faces.

"What's your deal old timer?" The guard with the bag asks, his assault rifle raised to the mans stomach.

"Nothing, I'm just trying to get my children home." He replied, going silent once again.

"We don't have time for this, take them into the prison. They'll sort it out there." One of the officers behind said looking at his commanding officer.

"Good idea, we'll do that. Call for a prison bus. We'll have them in the prison being sorted out and interrogated in no time." The commanding officer said turning to the lower ranking officer. But the three knew that if they were to go to prison, they would never be hear or seen again. So out of a plan, and out of ideas. Abby and the two others drew what looked to be pistols.

"We're not going anywhere!" Abby stated, raising her pistol to bare. But before the three could fire, the officers fired, hitting Abby and the older man in the head instantly. The younger man lay on the ground bleeding profusely, along with coughing blood.

"Fools. Well at least that settles that." The commanding officer said stepping to the boy. "So long kid." The patrol boat search light turning away, and the boat continuing down the river as the commanding officer stepped back, a sinister grin on his face.

"So long." The young man replied, pulling out the detonator. "Bye bye."

Suddenly an explosion, and fiery chaos knocks the officers over, pieces of the bridge flying everywhere as a large plume of black smoke and fire rises up into the sky, creating a small mushroom shape cloud.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your Part

It has been 24hrs since the destruction of the Eads Bridge, and you are just like everyone else living in ILC controlled St. Louis--a nobody. You work like anyone else, you eat like anyone else, and are watched by the ILC like anyone else. Life is not good for you, but you along with everyone else try to make the most of it by staying out of trouble. But it's not always the people looking for trouble, that get it. Sometimes, trouble finds them. So your roll in this RP, is that your an everyday ILC citizen; whether your occupation is Shop owner or factory worker (which 95%) of most ILC citizens living in St. Louis is. It's up to you. Gradually, and by my choosing; you will be contacted by a spokesman or woman from a resistance group. Where and when you are contacted, is completely up for grabs. But I assure you, that all players will be contacted by a resistance fighter, and it is your choosing whether you want to help the resistance, or maybe even join the ILC secret police; hunting house by house the resistance, and destroying them. Who wins in the end, it is completely up to the players actions.
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Character Sheet

Name:
Age:
Race: (Ghouls are acceptable, but only as ordinary citizens.)
Gender:
Hair Color:
Eye Color:
Skin Color:
Height:
Weight:
Hair Length:
Facial Hair: (if any?)
Body Tone: (I don't want any Mr. Universe or whatever, your poor (or maybe a rich person?) but your either thin (which is the average) or mediocre. Only Special Police, and other ILC forces would/can be very muscular.)
Clothes/Armor: (If your ILC Secret Police or just plain old Police, you just have Combat Armor. No Power Armor, that's for the military who is NPCs)
Weapons: (If your ILC affiliated, you can have one. But if not, then no weapon for you. The resistance will have weapons, but since most should be regular joe's then you won't have a weapon to start with.)
Faction: (ILC Secret Police, ILC Steet Police, ILC Citizen)
Job: (Store Owner, Factory Worker, Street Cleaner etc. This is only for ILC Citizens)
Misc: (Ammunition, and any extra gear. Only for ILC Secret Police, or just Police.)
Bio: (A little about your character's previous history.)

Rules

1. I am the boss of everything. What I say/do, happens no complaints

2. Nothing Uber or superhuman like, you will be warned ONCE.

3. Just use Common Sense.

4. Do not control/kill anyones character without asking them before hand.

5. I want detail and depth to posts. No one liners or just a single paragraph. Have at LEAST TWO paragraphs in a post. With a Maximum of Six or Seven.

6. Have FUN!

This sounds very interesting. I'll reserve a spot if that's okay, most likely a member of the police.

Ok, that's fine. Just specify whether your ILC Secret Police or just ILC Police. I don't want you saying your a Police Officer, and yet your hunting down possible resistance fighters. That's left to the Secret Police (which aren't known about by the Resistance or everyday citizens.)

ALSO! I want a limited group of ILC Secret Police. Maybe only two or three, depending on how many join this. If only a few join, then I want the teams to be fairly evened out; but I will give all factions at the start equal chances at this and that. Just don't go overboard with being a ILC Police Officer or ILC Secret Police Officer.

I knew you werent done. You cant leave us that easily. Ill send in my CS soon.


Thinking of secret police.

Good to see you back in action strangelove, also i love the Borg reference.

----------------------

Name: Marcus Black
Age: 42
Race: Caucasian
Gender: Male
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Black
Skin Color: Lightly tanned.
Height: 5'11
Weight: 60kg
Hair Length: Shoulder length.
Facial Hair: None
Body Tone: Athletic, Marcus does running every morning and night.
Clothes/Armor: Marcus wears a white singlet with a black shirt with flame details unbuttoned over it. He wears trainers most of the time, and wears fingerless gloves. He always is seen wearing his hat which is a black baseball cap with the detroit redwings logo on it.
Weapons: Fists.
Faction: ILC Citizen.
Job: Merchant. Marcus owns a small chain (4) of clothing shops.

Bio: Marcus was born in detroit, when the ILC started tearing through the wasteland, it was called a utopia, marcus and some other people from a small settlement decided to make their way to ILC controlled territory to try and make a living in the new utopia, after weeks of travel the group had lost many men, but they finally had made it to their new home, only to find out that the utopia was nothing like they had heard. Death and Corruption filled the air as they walked down the streets.

After a few years of working in a factory, making connections and working hard, the remaining settlers from detroit, marcus included decided to open a store, they used their contacts in the factories to make clothing for their new shops, since clothes were normally rationed out by the ILC, selling them would be good news to most of the citizens of the ILC.

It has been 7 years since they opened the stores, and things have only gotten worse, they make just enough money to pay the bills and every day the ILC are coming to them trying to stop them from selling differnt clothes to the citizens.

Name: Erin Thomas

Age: 25

Race: Human, Caucasian

Gender: Female

Hair Color: Auburn with flecks of blonde

Eye Color: a deep almost ocenaic blue

Skin Color: Fair skinned with blushing red cheeks

Height: 5'7

Weight: 60 kg

Hair Length: Shoulder length at the back with a fringe hanging over her left eye

Facial Hair: none

Body Tone: Erin is a young woman who take meticulus care in keeping herself in shape but the ILC regime's harsh environment has left her sligtly thinner looking than is natural for her naturaly curvey body shape.

Clothes/Armor: Erin wears a scavanged black overcoat that she uses to to distract herself and others from her increasingly waif like figure, the overcoat comes down the the knee on Erin and the sleeves hang slightly over her hands with her fingers just poking out. The coat stink sof the vodka used to clean the bloodstains from the previous owner although some stubborn marks still remain. Erins prized posessions are a pair of shiny black leather gloves she uses to cover her scarred and blisterd hands from her life of hard work, she avoids taking off the gloves unless completely nessercary. The jeans Erin wears are tatterd about the knees and coverd in dust and grime, the jeans are torn to a three quarter length just passing her shin length red converse shoes. around her kneck is a rusted pendant with a paper note inside reading ' Love lives even in death, Luke '

Weapons:none

Faction: ILC citizen

Job: Erin works for a shop doing all the undersireable jobs that others don't want, cleaning drains, running messages, scrubbing graffiti and sometimes serveing behind the register when required

Bio: Erin was born under the opressive rule of the ILC her parents dieing when she was young of a flu outbreak. Erin lived on the street learning who to hang around with to stay safe, what areas to avoid and the most important rule, never expect help from the police. Erin gradualy fell into bad habits with bad people hanging around with a gang of thugs for safety.

Erin spent three years with the gang provideing various services for them and helping out on some minor errands before they accepted her fully into thier inner circle. On her first major job the poilce were alerted and the gang was all but wiped out, Erin went into hideing fearfull of both the police and any vengefull surviving members of her old gang, eventualy her old firends tracked her down. After fleeing down the narrow streets and alleys the gang eventualy cornerd Erin and were about to exact thier greivences on Erin, Erin braced herself for a blow that never came. A young man passing by had seen the situation and knocked out the three thugs with a loose piece of scaffolding from a near by construction sight.

Over the following years Erin settled into normal life with her saviour turned boyfriend Luke, getting her job at the shop and leading a normal life. This lasted until the year previous to the events of the RP when the secret police came and arrested Luke on the untrue susspision of him being part of the resistance, Erin's only memory of her love being the pendant he left her.

--------------------------------------------------

Seems a great story and one of the best OP's for an RP I have seen in my time on these forums.

First time RPing a lady so its should be interesting.

BTW, is one of the books 1984 by george orwell?

Hey, you're doing another RP! I'd like to reserve a sheet if that's okay. I've been waiting for a better Fallout RP to present itself. I'll have my sheet soon.

Hey strangelove can I be muscular because my character is a factory worker?


Name: River ingman
Age:30
Race: cacasian
Gender:male
Hair Color:black
Eye Color:green
Skin Color:tan
Height:6,4
Weight:210 pounds
Hair Length: buzz cut
Facial Hair: rough beard
Body Tone:muscular
Clothes/Armor: Wife beater, jeans, boots, fingerless gloves
Weapons: none yet
Faction: ILC citizen
Job: Factory worker
Misc: none
Bio: River was a hard wastelander looking for shelter and the ILC was perfect at the time. During the time that the ILC was turning corrupt River found his soul mate and got married but the one day his wife was being pushed around by the ILC secret police River tried to help but was pulled away they took his wife to prison and he never has seen her sence. They only reason that he didnt go to jail is because they hade a deal do most of the heaviy lifting in the factorys. Ever sence then he has been a cold shell of a man wanting his revenge.

DeadlySin: Accepted, just get rid of the Butterfly Knife. Remember, your just a ILC citizen, and what kind of Dystopian nation would the ILC be, if they allowed their citizens weapons? lol So edit that out, and your good. (Also, the whole Borg thing was completely incidental. Until you said that, and I remembered. )

Is It Just Me?: Accepted, nice sheet too. And yes, part of my inspiration of the ILC came from 1984, but only the Head of the nation, and the propaganda. The rest is actually from other Dystopian novels and stories I've read.

Ryre, Jonas, and Mr. Boom: Still waiting on your CS. No rush, just hope to get a CS from you three.

Ringman: I'm sorry, but I can't allow you in this RP. It's not just your grammar and spelling I'm going off of, but your past lengths of posts in RPs. Until I can see some improvement in all three of those areas; including detail and depth, then I may add you (and no, your character could not be muscular because even though he may be a factory worker, food is still limited to the population of the ILC). So until then, I cannot accept your CS.

Dr. Strangelove: I'll try and get my CS up tomorrow, I would have had it up today, but I got caught up with some friends. :shrug:

Name: Mattias McKay
Age: 29
Race: Caucasian/Human/Irish
Gender: Male
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Skin Color: White, slightly tanned
Height: 6'4"
Weight: 153 lbs
Hair Length: Shoulder length, ratty.
Facial Hair: Scruff with a Goatee
Body Tone: Average with SOME tone due to his modest workout routine, yet he is skinny and somewhat malnourished looking.

Clothes/Armor: Black Bandana around the head, Sunglasses, white short sleeved shirt, brown overcoat, blue jeans, combat boots, fingerless gloves.
Weapons: None
Faction: Citizen
Job: Liquor Store Owner
Misc:
Bio: Mattias was a loner for his whole life. He had simply been wandering the Wasteland for years and years, scratching out a living by hunting and setting up camp wherever his feet took him. When he was 23 however, he found the Brotherhood of Steel. Surprisingly they decided to take him in, so he began his service as an Initiate.

But it didn't last very long as the Enclave and Brotherhood began to dissolve. When the ILC came about, Mattias thought it would be as good of a time as ever to relocate himself among the ILC. So he did, moving into the city and using what little money and supplies he had to his name to open up a liquor store.

OK

Jonas, you are accepted. Just get rid of the Trench Knife. Remember, ILC citizens are NOT to have weapons of any kind. This is a dystopia, the exact opposite of a Utopia. So oppression, and violence from law enforcement is rampant. Also, here's my CS.
-----------------------------

Name: Frank Conrad
Age: 32
Race: Caucasian Human
Gender: Male
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Hazel
Skin Color: Light Tan
Height: 5'10
Weight: 171lbs
Hair Length: Short Cut
Facial Hair: Large thick mustache
Body Tone: Average ILC Citizen body tone
Clothes/Armor: White Long Button Sleeve Shirt, Black Vest, Patched Black Pants, Dirty Black Loafers, Cabby Hat.
Weapons: N/A
Faction: ILC Citizen
Job: Military Factory Worker
Misc: N/A
Bio: While traveling the wasteland, Frank was as close to death as anyone could want to be who was alive. He travelled for miles and miles, starving, dehydrated, and low on caps; Frank decided that his best hope was trying for the Iron Lance Confederacy. He hoped that if he got there, the people would be kind enough to give him some help and aid. After traveling across the wasteland for another three weeks, Frank finally reached the outskirts of Memphis, Tennessee. But before he could get any help, he collapsed under exhaustion and laid on the dry hot ground, figuring that his death would be soon.

Well he was wrong. After being unconscious for an undetermined amount of time, Frank was saved by some traveling merchants; who took him under their wing until he recovered fully, and even offered him a job. Frank declined, not wishing to travel anymore than he too, to the closest bar or diner. So after leaving the merchants, Frank headed north via newly established railways; and made St. Louis his home. Unlike the other cities which would soon see the same fate, St. Louis was already becoming a place of hardship and distaste. Unable to get a job or a place of his liking, Frank became a factory worker at one of the local military plants, helping to manufacture weapons such as rifles, pistols, and other weapons of war. Since then, Frank has suffered just as much as anyone else under the new dystopia that the ILC has become.

This looks very interesting

Name: Bill Richardson
Age: 29
Race: Caucasian Human
Gender: Male
Hair color: Black
Eye Color: brown
Skin color: lightly tanned
Height: 5'8
Weight:150lbs
Hair length: shortly trimmed
facial hair: cleanly shaved
Body tone: well fed and well muscled due to the generous food portions rationed to officers
Clothes/Armor: ILC police uniform underneath a security helmet and vest.
Weapons: police baton, riot shield(carried only if required) , 10mm pistol
Faction: ILC police
Misc: 2 tear gas grenades, keyring for various doors and jail cells

Bio: Bill was born in the NCR and grew up to be a merchant, just like his father. However, in the early days when the ILC was still a beacon of hope Bill ran away and hitched a ride with a trade caravan. Along the way he heard stories from some other traders that if he joined the newly formed ILC police, he would receive many benefits. Eager to get a chance to help build a new nation Bill practiced his shooting skills and learned to have a good proficiency with firearms. When he finally arrived in St. Louis, he could hardly believe his eyes.

There was electricity to every house and running water that was 100% radiation free. The streets were clean and the housing was excellent. So he quickly enlisted into the force and had no trouble getting in as the fledgling ILC police force needed recruits that had useful skills. He got a nice house only a block from the station and has worked in the force for 9 years, getting trained in more advanced police tactics such as riot control. So he lived happily but soon witnessed the decline of the ILC as it slipped into corruption. He has received increasingly more power and watched as people were arrested and beaten up by fellow officers who he had known from the beginning. Now he wants nothing more than for things to return as it once was and be able to walk home without people staring at him with fear and hatred. However, he is a police officer and will put down anyone who broke the law the same as anyone else. Even if he doesn't like it.

Alright Norman. Looks good enough, accepted.

NOTE TO EVERYONE WHO'S BEEN ACCEPTED: If your ILC Citizen, then your opening post should have to do with either something to do with your job, or just being an everyday citizen in the ILC; which isn't much but there are cafe's, diners, coffee houses, bars, and everything a typical American society has. Just with a large hint of dystopia and oppression. So be sure to note that your character is ALWAYS being watched by cameras and the police who are regularly around.

If your an ILC Secret Police Officer, then your opening post should have to do with either going and searching for resistance members? Or maybe getting orders. In fact, I want all ILC Secret Police Officers to be incognito with the populous. Remember, the Secret Police are not known and are more just a rumor and 'possible' scare tactic used by the ILC government to keep the people in line.


If your ILC Regular Police, then your opening post should deal with either arresting someone, getting orders, or just patrolling around. If your arresting someone or something with POSSIBLE action, don't get to into the action. Make it quick and clean, and not to much.


AND REMEMBER, THE RESISTANCE (LIKE THE SECRET POLICE) ARE MORE A RUMOR AT THE TIME THAN AN ACTUAL FACT OR FORCE. ILC CITIZENS JUST THINK THAT THE RESISTANCE COULD BE REAL, BUT DON'T HAVE ANY PROOF. ALSO ONE LAST THING, ONLY THE SECRET POLICE KNOW THAT THE RESISTANCE IS REAL; BUT SINCE THEY THEMSELVES ARE SECRET, THEY CAN'T TELL ANYONE BELOW THEM AT ALL.

so can we post our OP? I'll edit this into it if yes

EDIT: Loud and clear

No, I'll be making an Official thread for OPs. Tomorrow is when I'll do it. I don't have so much stuff to do tomorrow, and now I'm kinda tired. So tomorrow I'll be getting the actual Rp thread up, and this will be locked.

I never actually got around to joining one of your RP's Strangelove... And as such, I'd love to give it a shot.

Name: James Bateman
Age: 27
Race: Human/Caucasian
Gender: Male
Hair Color: Sandy Blonde
Eye Color: Blue
Skin Color: Olive
Height: 6'3
Weight: 80kg
Hair Length: Medium-Long
Facial Hair: Rough goatee
Body Tone: Lean muscle, little fat and darkened eyes from long nights.
Clothes/Armor: Short sleeved blue button up shirt, long tanned trousers, broad rimmed akubra hat, darkened leather gloves.
Weapons: N/A
Faction: ILC Citizen
Job: Store Owner-Clothing
Misc: N/A
Bio: James spent most of his life in the Wasteland, travelling with his Parents and two younger Brothers. As they travelled they came across a City by the name of St. Louis, this was not too long after the IRL took over the City and it had begun to flourish. The Family settled down and began to make their own lives for themselves. After he went into his 20's, James drifted away from his family and began to make up his own life in St. Louis. Eventually ending up owning hsi very own Store, which sold clothes.

He's made well enough for himself, he's had dark thoughts about the IRL as of late but doesn't really know what to do. After hearing the rumors of the Resistance his hopes rose, but quickly fell; as he could not see it happening. For a while he continued with his life of being a simple Store Owner until he got news about his Father dissapearing. With grief in his heart he went along with his life with a sad outlook, starting to feel a hatred burning more and more for the IRL.

He keeps himself as fit as he can with the little money he makes from selling clothes to people, eating as much as he can and exercising often. He doesn't know what he's getting ready for, but he knows that he wants to be ready for anything.

Ok Francois, accepted.

I should have the actual RP thread up soon. I've just got some store runs to make, and will be back as soon as possible.

The RP is up, so this topic is done.

http://www.gamesas.com/bgsforums/index.php?showtopic=1061097