(RP) Quarantine: Code Black

[Ragdollmaster]

If there's only one black he won't be the first to die :u

[Grayswandir]

Don't you mean, if there's one black guy he's going to die valiantly for everyone else?

[Count Roland]

I think he means if there's only one black all the other blacks must have died valiantly for everyone else first.

[Ragdollmaster]

No, I mean, if there's only one black guy, it would be racist to kill him off first. Funny, but slightly racist.

[Although, could it be construed that I'm being racist by killing off a non-black first? Even though it's to avoid seeming racist? OH SOCIOLOGY YOU CONFUSE MY PUBESCENT MIND]

[invertin]

Everyone knows that if there is a black guy in a horror movie, he almost always dies first.

Just like how if there is a blonde she will almost always survive until the end.

[Zhukov]

I thought it was the amorous blonde who always died first.

The survivor is usually the modest girl.

[Ragdollmaster]

Modest as in 'average', usually the kooky, klutzy, dorky, clumsy, 'dweeboid' (for lack of a better word) girl dies somewhere down the line, maybe half-way in.

We'll probably start soon, I just want to see if anyone else would like to join. I'd rather have all the players near the beginning so there's less of a need of deus ex machina elements where it's like "OHAI HERE I AM HALFWAY THROUGH THE RP, SUP GUISE?"

[invertin]

Depends really. It's almost always brown or blonde.

Black hair is reserved for the creepy evil children.

[TheBigCheese]

I can join in if I don't have to post too much. I can really only visit the forums every few days.

[Ragdollmaster]

TBC: Sure. You could be like a surviving scientist and post every now and then, not interacting with the main characters for a while. Or maybe dying right before the main characters find him/her

[TheBigCheese]

Okay, a surviving scientist it is then. I'll post when I can.

Name: William B. Grady
Age: 39
Gender: Male
Appearance: Tallish, thin, unkempt hair and clothing. Bruises and a few scars of unknown origin.
Psychological Complex: Split personality only in his head due to trama in his past. Frequently converses with it out loud.

[Ragdollmaster]

Hey guys,

know I promised to start this thing but I've been sick for a while. Doc. diagnosed it as a viral lung infection and while I should be all better by Saturday, I might only be free for the weekend and then have to face a week's worth of piled up schoolwork :< I must seem so damn lazy.

[Assaultman67]

I've never done any role playing stuff ... im not even sure how it works or why its fun

[TheBigCheese]

I've never done any role playing stuff ... im not even sure how it works or why its fun

Mostly it's like creative writing. You each take turns telling a part of the story through your character's point of view.

I find it fun because I enjoy fiction writing in general.

[Ragdollmaster]

I am such a lazy and forgetful bastard :< Here's my first post... right now, none of the soldiers are in the plant yet; every one is headed there through separate means of insertion, with every one posing as a nuclear specialist going in to neutralize the potential meltdown.
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The truck rumbled down the dusty desert highway, barreling towards a nuclear power plant. Kylin fiddled around in his seat, nerves on end. He was the only one in the truck besides a driver and a bodyguard sitting in the front passenger seat. They stopped at a police blockade, and the driver rolled the window of truck down to speak with an official maintaining the roadblock. Kylin faintly heard wisps of the conversation sitting in the back of the truck.

“Yeah, we’re heading to the plant now- we’ve got a specialist on board. Hah, yeah, one of the boys in lead pajamas… yeah… well, it was good talking with ya… make sure not to let anyone past unless they’ve got the proper security clearance, even if they’re supposedly media...”

They weren’t going to the plant to prevent a potential meltdown, Kylin knew. He wasn’t fully aware of the situation- nobody outside of the plant really was- but he was certain that he would be doing more than routine maintenance. Not that Kylin knew how to maintain or fix a power plant, either, but that too was irrelevant since the power plant wasn’t really a power plant at all.

A controversy shrouded in utter secrecy, the power plant was actually known as the Serrin Research Facility to anyone who wasn’t being blindsided by a governmental cover-up. A good disguise- no one would question the plant ‘mysteriously’ blowing up due to a ‘meltdown’ in case of an emergency, since there wouldn’t be much left behind to investigate. Kylin rapped his fist against a metal grate separating him and the guard and driver. “How much longer until we get to Serrin?”

“I’d say ‘bout five minutes. You seem kinda jumpy, boy. I heard you were one of the best- why so nervous?”

“It’s what’s kept me alive.” Kylin answered briskly, dragging a metal box containing his weapons from under the bench he was on. Combat knife. Hydra Rifle. SOCOM. Everything that was supposed to be there was. Everything was going to plan. And somehow, despite his retort to the driver, he couldn’t shake a feeling rooted deep in his gut, the kind you can’t ignore no matter how focused you get on something else. He grunted discontentedly and fished in his pocket for a cigarette, hoping it would relieve some of his nervousness.