Roleplaying

Since when had their thieving mission become a drive by? Her intitial belief was that Greg needed her to wield the revolver for self defense in the event of an attack, not for an ambush. Regardless of the speed this vehicle could travel they couldn't outpace a plasma projectile. There was no time to reject an order though, especially when she didn't know the consequences of inaction. These raiders could be the type to shoot trespassers on sight. The moment no eyes were on them she retrieved the gun, shoved it in her pocket, and concealed it with her shirt. This was definitely not what she had signed up for when she had agreed to go on a thieving mission.

As soon as they had entered what had to be raider territory she began scanning the streets for potential targets. She needed large targets. Species that would prove a real loss to the community but not so hearty that they could survive a multitude of plasma shots. At this speed it would be improbable for her to get more than one or two shots per individual in and without knowing how much battery life this device had left it was important that she make every shot count. Greg had given her the signal but she delayed following his orders just long enough for her to spot a few substantial targets. There was a trio of aliens exchanging credits and conspicuous, shodily taped packages. They were as good a target as any. She whipped out the colt and trained her weapon on the closest creature to her. Bolts of blue plasma cracked through the muffled streets. Those she had missed scampered off and for a moment it seemed like they might actually escape intact.

A volley of return fire rocked the vehicle. During the few pauses in weapon fire they were able to hear the screeching, clattering, and hissing complaints of the bike. Smoke billowed from beneath the machine and after a few more plasma bolts the machine was sputtering and slowing. First the GSF stopped operating and she was forced to cling the bike to remain seated. Shortly after the vehicle stopped hovering all together everything becoming a blur of dull colors. The reduced speed had been more than enough to keep them from dying on impact but the two passengers were still thrown forward when the bike first made contact with the ground. Lorin having been lighter than Greg had skidded forward a few feet further. She had managed to protect her head and neck with her arms. Holes had been torn in the sleeves of her shirt, the left side of a pant leg, and certain spots on her side as she had landed predominantly on her left side.

After she had stopped skidding across the concrete she checked herself for damage. Anywhere that the concrete had torn her clothing she felt an unignorable burning sensation and had road rashes. Their attackers still had quite a distance to cover before they could catch up with them but with their own injuries they needed every second they had to escape. Lorin pushed herself up slightly, yelped, and was force to pause because of a sharp pain in the side of her ribs and leg. The crash had driven the shard of glass in her upper  leg deeper than it had been before. The sight of the flaming bike was more than enough to motivate her to move. She hadn't come this far out of her comfort zone and risked her life shooting at these raiders only to come back empty handed, she needed to save some of their cargo. As long as she could breath she wasnt too concerned about the sharp pain in her ribs. She started limping towards the back of the bike. One raider was far closer to them than the others were. She was quick to shoot the stranger's leg as most of the rest of it's body was protected by a thick exoskeleton. A flashing light on the colt warned her that it had a low battery charge meaning she'd need to use it far more sparingly. With her other hand she whipped out her knife to cut the string that was holding the bags in place and grabbed the heaviest one. The heaviest contained most of the materials from their target's pantry, food items that might have survived the crash. She decided to only save the one bag and distance herself from the toxic fumes emitted from the burning bike.

With little battery life left in the pistol, her injuries, and a bag weighing her down she didn't have much time to wait around. If Greg couldn't walk on his own she might have to very well leave him if any of ths two were to survive. "Can you move?"

Greg raised his head from the ground and unsteadily pushed himself to his knees. Ah, he thought, where's my eye?

His eye was indeed gone. It lay a few feet ahead of him, and he scrambled to scoop up the misshapen lump with his bloody fingers. With it cupped in his hand, he turned on his knee, nodded in reply to Lorin, and jerked his head roughly towards the street ahead of them.

"Go! There's a dra-"

An air siren began howling at the cross-section of the street. Greg shouted the rest of his sentence over the deafening sound.  

"... DRAWBRIDGE! GET TO THE OTHER SIDE NO MATTER WHAT!"

He waved her on violently and staggered weakly to his feet. There wasn't a scrap of fabric on his body that hadn't been torn and bloodied, and one of his shoulders hung awkwardly lower than the other. His good eye, his only eye, was blurry with grit, tears, and blood, but he dutifully trudged towards the bike. There was a small case nearby that had fallen from the compartment on the bike - he imagined it was for goggles or something similar - that he might put his eye in... Then, he thought, he could grab another one of the suitcases.

"Leave it, there's no time," for him to be going for a bag. Unable to waste what little precious time she had she couldn't wait around for the other.

The mutt heavily limped towards the bridge. Her pace was too sluggish and she knew it, the largest shard of glass in her leg was restricting her movement. She grasped the shard sure the healer would scold her later for what she was about to do. With one quick motion she yanked it out and gave a low sharp hiss. Now that the glass was freed Lorin hobbled for the bridge, each step slowly becoming steeper. The suitcase was flung over the small gap. Shortly after she stepped over and winced as she landed awkwardly. That idiot better make it. She doubted the others would forgive her if she showed up without him. Once finally off the bridge she inspected her leg. It was steadily bleeding out, panicked she tied the first loose torn bit of cloth she could find around her leg hoping it'd slow the bleeding for now. Hey if the bleeding doesn't kill me maybe this tourniquet will she mused. Better than any number of tragedies that could befall her just on her way to the meeting spot.

She couldn't wait much longer for the other. If he couldn't cross she didn't have the time to save him before the bridge became too difficult for either of them to cross.

Earth is a dangerous place, whether in the hybrid-infested countryside or crumbling, dark cities, but no place is more dangerous or rough than New Chicago. Whether out on the streets or high in the penthouses, no one's truly safe.

The world has become a new place. Some people call it impossible, but others just call it apocalyptic. There's barely a government, and what's left of it is corrupt and dangerous - the people live in factions, gangs, or try to survive on their own, and the only peace between them are through the pacts that have been made. The rich thrive and keep themselves safe, but anyone unfortunate enough to be less than that spends every day hoping to stay alive.

Species:
Ghouls - they're intelligent beings, humanoid in appearance. Their skin rots, and their lifespan is determined by how long their meat stays on their bones.

Zombies - they're dumb and benign unless angered or bothered. They're brainless, so essentially they don't do anything except wander around, bump into things, and (on the occasion) turn into a terrifying killing and flesh-eating monster. These aren't characters, but they can be used by any writer as a tool, the way one would write about a pet or object a character interacts with. If you plan on using a zombie, PM me to clarify what you want to use one for.

Humans - just like us, but now they share their planet with many other species. Many feel cheated out of their home, and most scramble to keep their kind from dying out.

Aliens - there are many, many kinds, and over the years they've adapted to the newness of the world. From tall to small, these creatures come in all shapes, sizes, and origins. (PM me to clarify what kind of alien you would like to be - it has to be your own creation or one that someone else in the roleplay has made up).

Mutts - an alien-human, alien-alien, ghoul-alien offspring.

Hybrids - always different, always weird, hybrids are animal-human-zombie creatures. Whether four legs or two, each species of hybrids are as oddly animal as they are humanoid. Some can talk, most can't, but all have a highly feral nature and are willing to 'defend' themselves quickly through force.

Additional - any species you think should be on this list that isn't. PM me if you have any ideas.

None yet.

THE ROLEPLAY SLOGAN: Falcon hug that piece of beef jerkwad

No godmoding, guys - be cool

Come up with your own, unique charater, but make their personality realistic. No one likes a Mary Sue or an impossible character.

You only get to kill another character, or injure, if you have the writer's permission.

Don't let things that happen in character affect or influence how you treat someone out of character, and please don't use your character as a way to get at another roleplayer. Don't be cheap.

If you want to write a huge post, go for it! Write a huge one! But, before you do so, write up a message in the OOC chat to let everyone else know it might be a bit and to wait to post until you finish.

If you need to write a post that connects directly to a previous post, but you're worried that someone else might post before you can finish writing, say something in the OOC chat and everyone will wait to post until your done, but you only have a 4 hour window to finish up and post.

Always check the OOC before you post, just so you know what's up.

Breaking the rules can end up in being expelled (kicked out, or whatever you want to call it) from the roleplay depending on the offence.

Lastly, if you have any questions, hit me up. If you choose to be an alien, mutt, or hybrid, send me a message giving me more information on your character as well as an example of what your roleplay post might be like so I can get a sense of what kind of writer you are. If I like your moxie, you're in.