Brisbane

[Greatak]

The world is.. Irrelevant, actually. No one knows what’s out there anymore. All that matters is Australia. And here? Well, it’s a hellhole, to put it nicely. What wasn’t desert before is a desolate wasteland now. To be frank, none of us should be alive, but humanity is a crafty species. Not only did we figure out how to destroy the planet, we also figured out how to survive.

It’s been God only knows how long since the War, when we lit the sky on fire and watched it burn. No one even remembers why we fought it, just that we did, and it wiped out close to every living thing on the planet. Some of us survived though, hid underground, caves, basements, anywhere to escape the destruction. A lot of us died in the initial exchanges, though, lucky bastards. You don’t have that kind of war without screwing stuff up.

First we had the Night, everyone expected it, and we were reasonably well prepared to weather it, those of us who thought to prepare that is. But what no one saw coming was the Day. As soon as the clouds started to dissipate, we wished they’d come back. The sun had become our worst nightmare. Some old world scientists tell us that the vast number of nuclear detonations destroyed the ozone layer and caused disturbances in the magnetic field, exposing us to all sorts of radiation. Religious sorts will tell you God was just finishing where Man left off. But still, we’re here and aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.


So, that’s the world we live in. Under the oppression of the sun and our fellow man, we struggle to survive. This RP takes place in Australia, mostly the area around Brisbane, after a worldwide nuclear exchange left the planet a burned out husk and Australia was one of the few places on Earth not on the target list. Brisbane remains formally controlled by the ADF to this day, but their numbers are dwindling and it’s all they can do to repel raids from surrounding areas and keep the purifiers online. Their authority has fallen away and been replaced by more locally centered power structures. It’s your typical, post-apocalyptic town, everyone does pretty much whatever they want, and you’ll get shot if you step too far out of line.

Important thing here is that day is deadly. Stay out in the sun for 20 minutes, and you’ll have a bad sunburn, an hour? You’re probably dead, because medical care isn’t what it used to be and those third degree burns are hard to treat. I’ve got no formal rules or requirements to follow. There’s no stock bio format, just put something together. You just have to be human, either under 20 and you were born post-war and or over 20 and pre-war. I’d just like to know which, along with the other basics. Also, the setting is pretty well thought out and whatnot, I just didn’t want to bore you with a book, if you’ve got questions, ask. Please.

If you think you can handle it, I encourage multiple characters.

[Bravado]

It's been too long now. You know I'll be leaping aboard. Now, is there a specific character sheet or any specific positions to fill (ex. leaders, commoners, etc.)?

[Greatak]

No specific character sheet, no. Also, no desired positions to be filling either. I'm not entirely sure where the plot will quite be going, a few rough ideas, but nothing I need to prescribe roles for.

[Greatak]

Welcome aboard! I'll have an IC thread up in short order, gotta get my own sheet up after all.

[Totenglaut]

I am thinking about joining.
If I do my character will be up soon~

[Greatak]

http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2009/354/6/0/New_Lars_Concept_by_Greatak.jpg

Name: Lars

Age: 19 years Pre-War

Gender: Male

Nationality: German

Skills and Capabilities: Pre-War Heer, 26th Airborne Training; consists of survival tactics, small unit combat tactics, proficiency in most small arms as well as vehicle experience. Since the war, he’s picked up a some engineering and medical proficiency.

Physical Description: Well-built, sinewy features, the archetypal career soldier. Dark brown hair, but it usually appears lighter as dust accumulates, usually cut short. Uninteresting brown eyes and Scottish facial structure.

Typical Clothing and Accoutrements: Generally dresses in German-issue, Desert Flecktarn BDUs with various levels of tactical gear over it. Always has a side arm holstered on his hip, however. Quite often found sporting his maroon beret and aviator style sunglasses.

His tactical vest provides storage for the KM2000 knife, a radio, four FAL magazines and four 40mm grenades, 2 fragmentation grenades and 3 diversionary grenades. An mag-dump pouch hangs behind him, though that’s more often used for general purpose storage than spent magazines. An extensive med-kit also hangs from his waist, as well as a handful of handmade chem lights and flares. Mounted to the back is a Camel-Bak hydration system, and a larger pack when the occasion calls for it, with considerably more storage.

When he’s not wearing his tactical vest, he generally carries a well-worn, leather messenger bag. The exact contents of this are variable, but generally contain at least a med kit.

The body armour he’s acquired consists of a Spectre vest, a set of Spectre sleeves and leggings, as well as a SOV-4000 DragonSkin vest. These are interchangeable and worn for different reasons, depending on what the situation calls for.

Weaponry: Always carries an H&K USP, original issue from before the War, it’s served him well. Always also carries a KM2000 Combat Knife on his person somewhere, original issue as well and impeccably maintained, as is his side arm.

Less commonly carries a modified FN FAL with a tritium-illuminated close-range optic system, tac-light and underbarrel grenade launcher mounted to it Due to magazine scarcity, retractable lanyards are mounted to them for ease of retrieval after a firefight. The usual static stock has been replaced with a crane stock as well, the internals remain as close to stock as he could manage, refusing the adapt it to the AK-series chamber, believing that accuracy is still more important, even with the state of current affairs.

[subject to revision and retcon at author’s disgression]

[Triamilos]

Name: Uriel Franklin Astor. He prefers going by his last name, in all honesty for no particular reason.

Age: 23 before the war began, which would set him in his forties now.

Gender: Male

Nationality: British, even if the name is a little odd. Suffice it to say his parents were rather religious.

Skills & Capabilities: Astor has always had something of a gift for speaking, and all that entails, usually able to draw quite the audience when he puts his mind to it. A practised dissembler and passionate orator, the sheer belief and conviction in his tone often attracts attention where what he is talking about does not – infuriatingly for him, thanks to the proliferation of mad prophets and doomsayers these days his oratory ambitions are somewhat difficult.

He is not one to simply stand around and make speeches all day at least, and indeed they are often a secondary priority of his. Astor practises what he preaches, trying to better the lots of those around him in the hopes that that will prove what he sees as his good intentions. Sadly for him, most of the little clans and gangs in the world today take exception to him wandering in and ‘cutting in on their turf’…

Usefully enough, Astor has developed quite a skill at close quarters combat. After all, with only one person – Francis – to rely on for any form of support whatsoever, being able to defend himself is quite high up on his list of priorities. Following in the footsteps of some pre-war martial training, Astor’s hand to hand is simple, effective and – in a word – brutal. He has surprised quite a few larger, more physically powerful opponents over the years…

Knowledge Gaps and Inabilities: Uriel has never had any affinity for the sciences in the slightest. It is not so much that he does not have the intelligence, it is just the simple fact that they have never interested him in the slightest, and so he hasn’t bothered learning and remembering any more than the absolute rudimentaries. When it comes to rebuilding the world’s technology base, Uriel is the absolute last person you should go to.

While he may be rather dangerous in close quarters, Uriel is a poor marksman to say the least. This is mainly due to a lack of ability to practise with firearms at the moment, and no gun training pre-war. In close quarters with pistols he is not too shocking – he can rely mostly on his reflexes after all – but when any real distance is involved? Forget about it.

Physical Description: Uriel is a lean and haggard man, roughly six feet high but perhaps an inch or two over, a religiously kept to physical fitness routine conspiring with the general hard times to keep him as thin as a stick and without any fat on his body in the slightest. His cheeks are hollow, the bones on his face standing out, and his skin pale, but his light green eyes are as lively as ever, bright and alert.

Despite the times, Astor still carries himself with pride. His slim frame held tall, he rarely slouches or slinks around, moving with purpose.

Typical Clothing & Accoutrements: Uriel makes a point of keeping his clothes light and loose as much as he can, so as to not restrict his movements should fighting be necessary. A strong believer in recycling, his clothes are almost always patched and repaired in one way or another – not particularly well, it has to be admitted, but at least back up to a serviceable standard. He typically wears dark, dull colours, such as deep browns or black, purely for personal preference.

He keeps important items in the inner pocket of a zip-up light jacket, which is itself black, safe from the casual thief and pickpocket. He also owns a simple backpack, in the event that he ends up with too much to carry in his pockets.

Weaponry: Despite his lack of gunnery skills, Astor always has a pistol with him, giving him just that little bit extra range with which to reach out and touch someone. The piece, like it’s owner, is rather battered and worn, but it still serves him well, being quite well looked after despite appearances. Uriel keeps a couple of clips for the weapon in a pouch on his belt, each holding twelve nine-millimetre rounds.

He also carries a lone knife with him, also kept by his side. At present this is a double-edged steel blade of about six inches in length, which Uriel has also taken care over maintaining. There is nothing very special about it, and Astor would have no real qualms if it broke or was lost except the obvious issue of finding another good blade of decent quality

Astor does not believe in carrying around large amounts of weaponry.

((That do the trick?))

[Greatak]

Looks good, I'll get an IC thread up by tomorrow.