A continuation of my older roleplay, a world I dearly love. Rated mature for excessive violence, and cursing.
:d o g s:
The good guys who try to stop the bad guys wearing the good guys mask.
"'Was it really this quiet?'
I'm praying to a God I don't believe in. Ha, what a hypocrite I am.
From the snow I came. A wintry land of merry "kindly shut the fuck up" attitudes. But entering the sun is a transition I'm finding hard to resist. I find myself struggling along with his attitude.
Old Man Farley looks up from his bed of dead bodies. His ears perked. He suffers in this cold, it's untold how many he kills during these times.
'It's...er...interesting, Farley, your fighting technique.'
'They dun need what they got, Jake. They dun appreciate it enough to keep it.'
The old mutt's grown crazier in his days. He's only seven, but has the soul of a dog that's lived a century around this town.
We're kind of like the good cop, bad cop duo. Jake and The Fatman. Wheels and Legman. Batman and Robin. Underdog and his mentally-ill sidekick who frequently forgets how to piss.
But we never stop doing what we can, what we're told.
There's corruption here. Corruption like a mofo. But we can cope. Everything is permitted here. It's not like they'll stop us.
'Come on Old Man. We'll get there soon enough.'"
:t h e b e a r s:
The good guys. Or the bad guys. Or the bad guys to stop the good guys under the guise of good guys.
You're here. And it's really gross. It smells like a port-o-potty on fire here.
Chicago. Quiet Chicago? Fuck no. The loud kind where death is not only the norm, it's as inevitable as birth.
Still, just as amazing as the humans here can stand to live in this filth, there are those who will push against it, even if it is a small flame.
These are those small flames.
Underground, the real cops. The real justice, beaten down. A human can't perform such acts to clean up this place.
The beaters. And their dogs. They kill the place with money. Playtime for the rich. Drugs, prostitution, death, an accepted life to ruin everything. It's a wonder the place isn't abandoned.
The cops train us. And we fight. We kill. Mostly we're set up against The Bears, Booth's own army of dogs.
Booth owns Jericho, the drug business that took the town by storm. The plague that ruined this place. Each year he murders at least 100 people because they don't agree with him.
He owns the cops. At least, the ones not in hiding. And he has three posts, the ones that dirty em all up. To kill Booth, you have to kill these Post Leaders.
Like I said, a human can't perform such acts to clean up this place. That's why we're here. We're trained to kill, and have been doing it for years. Just like The Bears. Voleur is the leader of all of Booth's Bears. The top dog. Literally. We need to kill him too, if we want to get past The Bears, to Booth.
We're an army, set out to save the world. It's real corny, I know, but it's the truth. We can't let this guy go on.
And that's where you come in. You fight. With us. I've seen you fight, and I know you can do it. It's all we need is someone to help. Not just anyone can do this, but I bet you could try. So whaddya say?
You'll join us?
You're basically a dog trained for assassination missions. And your ultimate goal is to kill Booth, the human who runs this city with a knuckle buster.
We're going to work up to his death, but we have to get through the three post-masters, then Voleur, then we rip Booth's throat out, thus freeing the city of him and his pharmacies.
You can be a human. You may also be one of The Bears.
I don't want no corn flakes.
A minimum of four characters.
There will be adult content. Not for the faint-hearted, or ill-stomached.
For your skeleton, just post a picture and a summary of what you think we should know about your character and/or characters.
Be literate and legible.