The Outbreak: Revived

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The year is 2499, the Confederacy was in desperate need of resources, so they sent out 15 mining ships, massive ships that were able to house thousands of people. All 14 other ships mysteriously went dark, but 1 remained, uncontested and began mining for 5 months. However after those 5 months, something happened, a sabotage took place, someone destroyed the engine core with bombs, and planted a transmitter in the communication room. Nobody knew who did it or what the transmitter was for, but in less than a week, Zerg showed up. In less than a hour, 90% of the people on board, died a brutal death. The few who survived, holed up in the ships armory, and awaited for extraction.
This is The Outbreak aboard The Scavenger


Name: Dante "Korozain" Orin
Gender: Male
Race: Terran
Position: Survivor (can be swapped to rescue team if needed)
Job: Military (Ghost Sniper) Rank: 1st Lieutenant

Appearance: about 6'5", Asian-Black descent(light tan skin), skinny yet muscular
Looks like this but with ghost helmet.

Weapon: BOSUN F92 Long Range Rifle, sidearm: 2 C-7 Pistols (also PI - 8 Psionic, can manipulate battlefield but drains him)

Personality: Lone Wolf fighter, somewhat dark personality, usually mean or sarcastic, very un-empathetic. Enjoys the cold.

Background: He came from Old Family Orin. He never enjoyed being wealthy, because he knew the corruption that came from power and money. At the age of 9, he was taken from the Ghost Program, and he was actually glad. He decided not to use his full name often, so he created the alias of Korozain, (don't ask how he got the idea of the name).At the age of 20 he had already completed 27 missions, and racked up a total of 489 kills, almost half were headshots. He was sent as a guard for the Confederate Mining operation, now he is one of the survivors.

Name: Jake "Slasher" Hunter
Race: Terran
Age: 33
Posistion: Rescue Team
Job: Military (Assault Marine) Rank: 1st Sergeant
Appearance: 6' even, sun-tanned skin, Skinny, but muscular, Dark, almost black, brown hair, Hazel Eyes
Weapon: C-19 Assault Gauss Rifle, twin Scythe combat pistols, Two knifes and the bayonet in his rifle
Personality:Calm and friendly, always willing to play a game of cards. Loves making new friends, civilian or military.
Background: Jake enlisted with the Confederate military for one reason; they offered great benefits. He passed all his tests top of his class and quickly got indited into the Assault Marine Regiment, Hell Raisers. 6 years later he was given command over his own unit, the Fifth Assault company, nicknamed Sparta's Ghosts, and was promoted to first Sergeant.

Name: James Boelcke
Gender: Male
Race: Terran
Age: 27
Position: Survivor
Appearance: 6ft 2in, dirty blond hair, glasses, skinny, pale skin, has lucky Bast amulet
Job: Janitor
Weapon: Pistol that came from a dead guard
Personality: Easy to scare and shy but overall really nice. Clean freak
Background: Cared for his sick mother and eventually got a job as janitor to support her when she finally could start to care for herself.

Name: Jane Shiner
Gender: Female
Race: Terran
Position: Survivor
Job: Computer Operatior
Appearance: 5'8, Brown hair
Weapon: None
Personality: Very kind, jumpy, very trusting.
Background: Was always interested in computers and eventually got hired to the Scavenger to help operate and clean them. Very close friends with James though he was separated while running from the Zerg.

Name: 'Omicron'
Gender: Male
Race: Terran
Posistion: Rescue
Job: Psionic Agent
Appearance: White armored Ghost suit. Constant shroud of shadows around him, making him hard to see in low-light areas, despite white colored suit.
Weapon: Psionics, Canister Rifle with bayonet
Personality: Unstable, prone to destructive behavior under stress, mysterious, speaks little.
Background: -Data unavailable-

Name: Keira Harley
Gender: Female
Race: Terran
Job: Engineer
Position: Survivor
Age: 23
Appearance: Her skin is very pale from the lack of sunlight. Blue oval eyes. Long black hair. She has a very slim body shape. She often is found wearing a modified Firebat suit with a variety of tools to fix things. She is rarely found out of it. She is roughly 5' 10"
Weapon: Perdition Flamethrower and a Slugthrower pistol when out of Firebat suit.
Personality: When angry she is a major Pyro, as well as when she is a drunk. Other than that she has a very kind personality. Has a love of machines. If she can get her hands on one she will also often use a Goliath.
Backstory: Joined up with the Confederacy soon after she graduated High School. She was great at repairing and building things, so naturally she signed up as an engineer. After being in several battles in a SCV she yearned to become a soldier. So every now and then she would go into battle as a Firebat because of her Pyro like nature when she got pissed.

Name: William Brooks
Gender: Male
Race: Terran
Job: Marine
Appearance: Black short hair, green eyes medium build and height
Weapon: Standard issue everything
Personality: Light and cheery off duty, but as soon as those boots hit the dirt on a mission he is straight to the point and often times ruthless to get the job done. He will follow most orders, but has a clear conscience to disobey orders he knows is wrong if need be. Although he has been tempted twice, he has never had to disobey an order to keep a clear conscience.
Background: his family was split up in completely different regions and no one was interested in repairing their relationship with him. Slightly torn and angry, he joined the military. He joined the confederate army for a sense of importance and order to his chaotic life. He enjoyed every second of boot camp and conditioning, even though he was already pretty fit.

Name: Lieutenant Sol
Gender: Female
Race: Terran
Position: Survivor
Job: Spec Ops.
Appearance: Caucasian, 5'7, Slender and Athletic, Hair is in a bun and is Auburn Colored, Eyes are a golden color. Has a Tactical Eye Visor over her right eye.
The Visor helps her track enemies faster and is more efficient. She wears a specially modified Commando Suit that offers the same benefits of Combat Armor, but is lighter and not as bulky.
Weapon: Prototype C-84 Gauss SMG, Combat Knife. But will use other weapons if no ammo for her primary weapon is found.
Personality: Dedicated/Loyal
Background: Sol quickly rose in the ranks of the Confederacy Special Forces, latest mission was to assist with the mining ship that would be carrying precious cargo in the form of mined minerals. Sol's dedication pulled off, but she was the first to disappear after the event that ensued aboard the mining ship. She lives through the takeover.

Name: Abyss
Sex: Male
Race: Infested
Position: Attacker
Job: Shadow
Weapon: Anything he can find, has a arm blade that is similar to the hidden blade from Assassins Creed.
Personality: The Infestation consumed his mind and made him angry and sad.
Backstory: Was a normal colonist until the Zerg boarded the ship, he was the first to go down but he was also one the strongest to arise.
Build: He has a average build, he retained most of his physical features.

Name: Pierre
Gender: Male
Race: Terran
Posistion: Survivor
Job: Head Chef
Appearance: 5‘9, 42 years of age, roughly 190 pounds. Short brown hair, a large mustache, dark brown eyes. Wears a chef’s hat, along with some kitchen robes and such things.
Weapon: Butcher’s knife, several other large knives, a hammer.
Personality: Eccentric, and very french. He enjoys cooking, cutting, bashing and smashing. He critiques often and harshly, and is in general an unlikable guy.
Background: The son of a prestigious chef, this man went to cooking school, did poorly, but his father pulled enough strings to get him to be the head chef on this ship
Characters: Continued
Name: Jacob Terra
Gender: Male
Race: Terran
Posistion: Survivor
Job: Security
Appearance: Red-blond hair, sturdy build, eyes that have been described as emerald, tanned skin, overall very attractive.
Weapon: Gauss Rifle while armed up for the job, a pistol and knife at all times. Also owns and is proficient with a rapier, but this is less of a combat weapon and more of a hobby.
Personality: Arrogant, and can typically afford to be. He is well aware of the looks he gets from women (a result of his looks) and is used to being able to have any woman he wants. He is usually abe to influence anyone, regardless of gender.
Background: A member of the powerful Terra family. He earned some disfavor with the rest of the family and thus was sent away until he "learned some respect." He doesn't miss Terra Skyscraper one bit, and loves his new life, since he receives money from back home. He has weak psionic abilities, a trait fairly common in the Terra family, and these contribute to his ability to influence others.

Name: Targarn 654 23-A
Gender: None.
Race: Zerg.
Position: Attacker, obviously. Why would a Zerg be defending the survivors? Is this part really necessary?
Job: Overlord.
Appearance: Bloated. Brownish exoskeleton with large green sacs for holding the gasses that enable flight.
Weapons: Weight, size, and to a lesser extent, teeth and claws.
Personality: Hrmm... not really much of a personality. Intelligent enough to be completely devoted to the Swarm and completely useful to the Swarm, not intelligent enough to seek other employment opportunities. Obeys orders from superiors, but prefers not to listen to anything other Overlords or Overseers say.
Background: the Cerebrate that controls 22-3A has noted his extreme capability in the past, and he has become a favorite weapon

Name: John "Cross" Cross
Gender: Male
Race: Terran
Position: Security (Veteran, also has some engineering experience)
Appearance: 6'3, White, broad shoulders, square jaw, bald, black goatee, dark green eyes, missing right ear, blind in right eye, and heavily scarred on the right side of his face and body. He's a heavier build than most other security personnel. He wears heavy, steel-toed boots.
Weapons: D-6 Charges, custom Torrent SR-8 shotgun (Fury), 15 inch titanium blade (Faith)
Personality: Never afraid of a fight and often goes looking for one when lacking anything better to do. Some see him "as volatile as his bombs"
Background: A demolitions expert during the Guild Wars, he fought tooth and nail for the Confederacy, until a nearly fatal involving D-6 charges accident damaged his face. Unwilling to return to civilian life, he wants any job where he can hold a bomb and a gun, even if it's just a security job. He's held in high regards among the security team for his veteran status and his unyielding affinity for explosions.
A youth at the beginning of the Guild Wars, he was one of the first to sign up when the Confederate Marine Corps called for troops. He followed orders without hesitation and never looked back. At least not until the war ended.
He doesn't brag as much as other veterans, and keeps to himself about the past.
Though he may seem to have no regrets, deep down he hates the Confederacy, and holds them accountable for all of his actions.

Pvt. 1st class Tyler Reavis
Caucasian, 6'1, muscular, Slicked back black hair, One grey eye and an ocular implant that glows a bright orange.
The implant allows him to monitor the bio-signatures of his squad-mates quicker and easier than a normal marine visor.
Weapon of choice: C-10 Canister Rifle, standard issue Ghost weapon, but he is also adept with most other weapons.
His marine armor is dark orange with black trims. His face plate is remarkably like a real fire, Reavis' armor adds to his fearsome presence in a battlefield.
He would have been much higher ranking by now, but his lack of enthusiasm and questioning the authenticity of orders has led to several demotions.
Reavis was once known as "Reavis the Reaper" He now refuses to acknowledge anyone that calls him that and won't explain how he earned it. Repeated questioning angers him.

Name: Dars'lian
Gender: Male
Age: 561
Race: Protoss
Position: Cleanser
Job: Templar
Appearance: Bright teal eyes and a slender appearance. Standing around 2.75 meters (9 feet) tall. His face has one large scar across one of his eyes. He wears a golden suit of armor all over his body. In the place of his right hand is a Phase Disruptor.
Weapon: Psionics, Psi-Blade, Phase Disruptor.
Personality: A deep thinker and honorable. He doesn't care for the lives of others as long as he accomplishes what he sets out to do. He will crush any resistance.
Background: Dars'lian is a High Templar from all the services he has provided. He has fought through many battles and he seeks to cleanse the Zerg from the universe. He lost his hand to the Zerg in a battle and now, finding Zerg bio-signatures on a Terran ship he seeks to eliminate the Zerg on that ship, and if possible, give the Terran's a chance at survival.

(If your character isnt on here. That means you weren't accepted. If you wish to still join, talk to me in the PRP thread)
The ships lights flicker, then go off, and the backup generator turns on. Lighting is dim, the air doesnt seem as cool. And you're all cramped in an armory with limited space and supplies.

What the hell happened?
Cross stood in the corner of a room intended to be a medical bay, as could be seen from various medical equipment and supplies still left in the room, but at the last minute was turned into a weapons locker. It's no armory, but it's kept him alive so far.
He was alert, almost to the point of paranoia. But, again, it's keeping him alive.
Sleep would start to crawl over him, until it's interrupted by the screaming of the freakish monsters running amok on the ship. Cross wasn't sure how long he'd been awake, but he knew it's been too long.
A screeching noise came from the hallway. He cursed silently. His temporary base suffered one major flaw, it lacked a door. Cross had to blow it open in order to storm the locker, and now wished he'd taken his time to open it up properly.
The noise of claw on metal slowly crept through the hall, coming closer to his "fortress". If he was lucky, it would pass him by, but he doubted it. The damn things seem to be able to detect their prey through means unknown to him. Cross thought smell would be the most likely, but had no real means of knowing.
The sound continued steadily through the hall, but came to a stop outside of the hole that was once a door.

A grotesque creature entered the room. It was about the same size as a small bear on all fours, with large, bladed arms protruding from it's back. He'd seen them before. They we're like pack dogs, handling one on it's lonesome is relatively easy, but unless you've good a good defensive point, large numbers of them will tear you to shreds.
The thing slowly made it's way through the locker and sniffed about. It wasn't long before it spotted Cross. It let loose a sickening, gutter growl, saliva flew from it's mouth. Mid-growl, it leaped through the air, aiming from Cross.
He had no intentions of being eaten alive.
Cross ducked, he had his weapon at the ready. He stabbed upward with his dagger, an ornate titanium blade the size of his forearm with the word "Faith" inscribed on it's side.
The monster had armored skin, but their underbellies had less protection. With great effort he punctured the creature's underside.
That didn't stop it's momentum. It flew into the wall behind Cross, with his blade still in it's stomach. It began to scramble to it's feet, it was slightly staggered. Before it could regain it's footing, Cross planted his foot on it's face. The metal plating in his boot added an extra "oomph" to his kick, and the creature flew into the wall.
With only his right arm, Cross drew the shotgun from his back, a custom Torrent SR-8 with a chrome plate on the side that read "Fury", and leveled the barrel at the creature. It snarled and was attempting another lunge before he pulled the trigger.

A loud echo resounded through the halls of the dead ship.

Cross drew Faith from his deceased foe, or, the mess that was once his foe. He would have preferred to keep things quite, but an unarmored human stood a snowball's chance in hell with those things. He grabbed a duffel bag that he had already loaded with essential supplies (Ammo, med-packs, rations, batteries, an extra pair of overalls, bombs, grenades, anything with explosive potential, etc.) and made sure he had everything he needed.
The dead ship began to stir as horrid shrieks replied to the echo of Fury.
His fortress has been compromised.
I review the files for the mission again in my head. Photographic memory was a killer sometimes, but I never complained. I enjoyed my work, whether it was assassinations or planting explosives. I loved the chaos, the destruction, the mayhem, the-
Focus. A stern voice spoke. It was a slap to the face for me, and I went back to the objective parameters:
1). Investigate the ship, determine why it had suddenly lost contact.
2). Investigate possible Sons of Korhal terrorist activity.
The unit disembarked from their drop ships, heading to the armory to get their armor off. I was the last off, telling off yet another ghost who was trying to tell me how to do my job. The mission had been successful, and we'd secured the Sons of Korhal VIP. As far as I was concerned, that was good enough. "Look, mission complete, objective secure. Take the guy and go do your interrogation. As of right now, we're on down time." Walking away from him, I head to the armory as well. "Bloody ghosts..."
Agent Dante "Korozain" Orin woke up in his quarters, he thought he had a few too many to drink last night and was suffering from a hangover.

No matter, time to get my gear and get to the Command Center.

He noticed the ship was a lot quieter than usual, and the emergency generator lights were on. Something was wrong. He took out his combat knife as he walked into the hallway. Nothing odd so far. He kept the knife in his hands, ready to attack any intruders. He senses the thought of someone near the bridge, all he caught was
...was that?

He decided to make his way there. Then he saw someone walking down the hall. Sarah Peterson, ship technician. He noticed her mind was, blank. He realized something was wrong so he paced to her cautiously, then he suddenly turned around, revealing her mutated face with 2 tendrils coming out of her mouth, an eye is scratched out and her left arm is covered in what looks like a cluster of purple-ish tumors. She charged at him thinking only Kill...Kill...Kill... With ease, he stabbed her forehead, took the knife out then kicked her to the wall. The thoughts stopped. What is this, some infection? I need to report this to the Captain... And he moved on to the other quarters and see if anyone else was like this before going to the Captain
Having skipped the armory and instead using my own personal armor removal unit, I now sat in the bar with my squad, the unit spread out throughout. " I told the poor basturd that Command was 5 levels up by stair and the look on is face was priceless. He asked if I was sure there wasn't an elevator and I said yes, and the guy's face dropped. He started up the stairs and I went to the elevator and went up to command, when he got there, he saw me and just about died," I laugh as I relate the story to the squad. Reavis started in on the details of the night before our last deployment and I sighed. Not a bad life. And just three more missions before I can go home to Tarsonis.

Screams in the night. Burning houses were the only source of light. Three marines were standing in the center of the village. They could be identified as Confederates by the flags on their shoulder plates. One marine was equipped with a firebat suit, and was torching anything that was near and flammable. Another marine was arbitrarily tossing bombs about the place, ada the last one stood with his gauss rifle at the ready.
Somewhere down the street a man's head emerged from a door. To him, the marines seemed occupied. he hurriedly gestured to people behind him and opened the door. A women exited with a pair of children behind her. The man took his place between his family and the raiders.
The unoccupied marine raised his rifle. The marine with the bombs took no action, only turned from his work to watch the transpiring events. The firebat seemed not to notice.
The marine with the rifle gave no warning, no commands. The man turned and yelled at his family.
But the didn't budge. Too conflicted by fear and the notion of abandoning the father.
The marine squeezed the trigger.

Cross awoke, gasping for air and sweat beading down his face. He had passed out in the middle of a hallway. He struggled to his feet, still drowsy. Cross knew he couldn't have been asleep too long, or they would have gotten to him, and he was lucky they hadn't already.
He needed to move, find a safe place to hide, or fight, should they situation be that desperate.
A woman was stirring from many of dead that littered the hallways. All groggy she had been, the breath taken from this woman's lungs. Becoming desperate can do such a number to yourself. For that wasn't the only thing, instincts. The heavenly chaos that was death... If such a thing would leak out into the public, Sol would be the one to obtain the Crimes and possible execution.
As Cross continued to make his way through the ship, he stumbled into a corridor packed with cocoons. He'd been past a couple before, they seem to wait for you until hatching. Not wanting to take the risk of becoming surrounded in there, he decided to go around.. he turned away from the corridor and began walking away when he heard a human voice. Not entirely, it was twisted, and sounded full of rage and pain.
"Join us..."
He turned to see a warped version of a Terran. An abhorrent sight, possibly more disturbing than the other creatures. It was a man- or used to be- with tendrils crawling in and around his body. His fingers we're elongated and ended in points. He had an extra limb on his back, a scythe-tipped one, just like the smaller creatures.
As Cross examined it, more began to emerge from inside and around the eggs, and began to swarm toward him.
The veteran didn't withhold his Fury from the abominations.
A series of shotguns echoed through the empty corridors.
Keira starts cleaning her large Firebat suit. She couldn't believe what was happening. Only a few days ago she was working at the engine room, making sure everything was okay and then bam! The engine core was destroyed and then these things started coming onto the ship, murdering and twisting everything, and covered the ship with purple goo. She was able to get by quite easily due to them being quite susceptible to fire. She went to the armory with others, supplies were there already. The plan was to wait until rescue arrived. But this was something she was sure of not working. Even if the Confederacy decided to send a rescue team it would take them longer than what the group had to survive with the provisions they had. They would have to move out.
William sat on his bed in his quarters. Bead's of sweat ran down his tense face. In his hands he clenched his needler. It was aimed right at the door. He had been in this state for almost two minutes.

Nothing is there, calm down. He told himself, but believing it was another thing. The gun began shaking with fatigue. He tried to straightened it the best he could, but it only shook more. The metal weapon made a small clicking noise as it rocked back and forth violently against the ring he wore on his right hand.

A small clunk was audible on the other side of the door. William's almost calm body tensed up tenfold and he peered down the sights of his gun. After another thud William pulled the hammer back and was satisfied with the click it made, creating a hair trigger. William didn't know what was on the other side of the door. Could be footsteps, could be one of those... things... Could be something as simple as the wind. Wind? On a ship? William was loosing it and he knew it. After finally mustering the courage, William stood up and approached the door.


I really joined this to practice my writing skills, all critique, suggestions or comments are GREATLY appreciated. I also joined this to practice being a RPer rather then a DM so I welcome everyone to DM me.

Edit: the sound can be Cross(Avikon) or CR's character (Sorry, I have yet to study the Char. Sheet)
01/05/2013 11:49 AMPosted by MarkusDaWise
I really joined this to practice my writing skills, all critique, suggestions or comments are GREATLY appreciated. I also joined this to practice being a RPer rather then a DM so I welcome everyone to DM me.
Zarkun wants me to do this because he needs someone expendable... *Gibb Slaps Markus for wanting to be criticized during an RP*

IC: Sol was acting real stealthy like through the hallways, opening a door as she pulled out a Combat Knife. Ready to slit the throat of anyone that was a threat.
01/05/2013 11:49 AMPosted by MarkusDaWise
I welcome everyone to DM me.

OOC: I have a dirty mind, and read that all wrong.
You could make it Cross if you want, but he'll be moving quick and won't be there once he finishes off them buggers.
CR, what's wrong with wanting to improve?

Avik, that was really.. Really demented.

Just... Someone give me a hint and I'll play off it.
It's your encounter Mark, make it up how you think it would go and based on your character's skill set, or in Mecha's case, lack there of. Best way to do it.
Markus..... Zarkun wanted someone expendable.... So he wanted us to do it instead of him.... He's lazy, what can I say?
I know how to RP, Zarkun. I just prefer some character interaction, that's all.
You're on your own with where you started, Mark. Such is the cost of starting alone.

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