Exusia Part I: Isis

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Rules

1. No powergaming
2. You may play as many characters at a time as you like but you must treat them as separate. No magically sharing information or items or anything between them, you must RP doing so as if the other chars were played by other people
3. Try to let all characters involved in an RP get a word in before continuing. IE if Tom, me, and Mango are RPing than I should wait for Tom and Mango to respond to my actions before I post again. This is up to your discretion naturally but please try not to end events before everyone gets a chance to RP in it
4. PM me questions about lore/suggestions you have for it. I deliberately kept it pretty open but I have standards so do not be bringing in your own inventions without consulting me.
5. Have fun.

OOC Information

Note: A lot of stuff is intentionally left vague because I didn't think about this for all that long. Chances are if there is something I do not explain and you have an idea for how you want that aspect to work, PM me and I will go over it and if I like it I will add it to the lore.

The Exusian Empire spans several solar systems and numerous planets in the galaxy. In its heyday it was the power in the galaxy but recently it has fallen on hard times. Surrounded by smaller empires all eager to claim parts of it for themselves and facing strife internally Exusia is approaching its final days.

The Empire's economy is almost feudalistic in a sense with wealthy "nobles" (Highborns) owning huge portions of the Empire's wealth. Most Highborns own huge portions of planets in the Empire, some own entire planets themselves. Entire populations of people work under these nobles and although most nobles try to keep their populations happy (since an entire planetfull of hostile peasants could be hazardous to one's health) after hundreds of years the Lowborns are tired of having no political say. Riots, uprisings, and general disorder are becoming more and more frequent. Coupled with external attacks from neighboring systems and slowly but surely Exusia is falling apart.

The last line of defence against the chaos is a group known as the Gunslingers. (Yes I ripped it off of The Dark Tower, don't care). This group could be equated almost with the spectres in Mass Effect, the Jedi in Star Wars, or...well the Gunslingers in the Dark Tower series (I never said this was original). They are essentially above the law and can act as soldiers, assassins, diplomats, or almost any other role needed to protect the crumbling empire. Only Highborns are chosen to fill the ranks of the Gunslingers and they are trained starting at 13 should they pass initiation. Lately though the gunslinger numbers have been dwindling due to the various conflicts. Because of this and desperate to prolong their way of life, the ruling Highborns have begun to conscript a small number of Lowborns who prove themselves to be "worthy". Typically these Lowborns come from "upper class" peasantry, are educated, and are chosen because they stand out in a relevant field (ie top of their class in college, extremely skilled athlete, extremely high scores in intelligence tests, etc). They are often seen as "second class" despite not being any less skilled.

Technology: Guns still use bullets, no lasers. No "shields", armor is ok and yes fairly advanced armor exists in this world but if you want to play as a rebel char you likely do not have access to it. Faster than light travel exists but it's not very relevant at this point. Depending on how far this goes that might come into play. Cars are hydrogen powered or electric, internal combustion engines exist but aren't ultra common. PDAs and smartphones and the like are all over the place...just be reasonable with what you want your character to have.

That's about the story so far...or at least all you need to know at this point I think.

To join in PLEASE PM me character details before starting to post as I don't want 90000 gunslingers and no rebels. Again I realize this is pretty vague so use your imagination and feel free to come up with cool stories and shit. Try to avoid stereotypical shit if possible and yeah have fun.

Story starts now. I will be acting as "dungeon master" kind of sort of if there are arguments over hits/misses although I think everyone who comes to the F-RP forum is smart enough to not suck. Don't powergame or metagame and hopefully this doesn't suck.

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The small shuttle touched down on the surface of Isis, kicking up a cloud of dust in the early afternoon sun. It discharged its passengers and lifted off again, almost seeming eager to leave this backwater world. Within a few minutes it was a small dot heading into orbit.

Crossing the landing strip and hefting a large backpack strode a tall figure. Clad in a dark gray duster that covered his 6'5, nearly 200 pound frame he was an imposing sight. The fact that he could back up this image with the huge revolver on his right thigh (concealed by the duster) made him dangerous indeed. His given name was Stephen but having been yanked out of his normal, Lowborn life and more-or-less conscripted into the Gunslingers he preferred to go by his call sign, Ares. He had a penchant for mythology and it helped prevent the obnoxious Highborns from knowing his ignoble birth.

Which is exactly why this empire is going to the shitter he thought bitterly as he started for town. "Town" could be applied to this collection of buildings very loosely. Isis was colonized largely because it had an atmosphere. Too backwater to be a trading post and possessing no resources that could not be found elsewhere for cheaper, lately it had become a popular planet for the rebellion to stage out of. Which was why he was here and also why he was trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Several weeks ago rumors began circulating about an Exusian "super soldier" cavorting around with rebels. Last seen in this sector "SOT-U746-L1456-14" (Specail Operations Trooper- Unit746-Legion1456- Number 14) was beginning to prove a real headache for the ruling party. Although Ares had the clearance to know the whole story the details did not concern him much. Several of these last-ditch attempts at salvation had blown up previously and typically a few Gunslingers were all it took to solve the problem...although apparently this experiment actually worked more or less how it was supposed to. Ares had no intention of testing himself against this...creature. Find it, bring it back, or kill it then go home and go deal with one of the myriad of other problems facing the Empire every single day, those were his orders in a nutshell.

He trudged off to the bar. Apparently the bartender knew something...maybe. It seemed stereotypical to Ares but maybe there was a reason for that stereotype. He stepped in and took a seat, scanning the tables for any sign or threat like he was trained to do. Although he had tried to keep as low-key as possible coming in there was a good chance someone knew who he was and may or may not be interested in harming him in some way. He approached the bartender.

"I'm looking for this guy", Ares said as he showed the man a picture from SOT-U746-L1456-14's service record. "Rumor has it you might know something"

((And then if anyone wants to jump in from here go for it although please PM me a character summary or similar before. You can be in the bar, in the town, 9 systems away, whatever just let me know. Someone could even be Mr. Bartender if they so choose))

[Tom]

A decently sized Man, probally in his 20's is sitting in a seat near by, He isn't drinking heavily but he's drinking though, he waits and listens to what the bartender has to say, This mans body is for the most part concealed by Civi's and he is also wearing some sort of a baseball cap. This man is decently built but not as built as Ares, or at least thats how it looked, this man was muscular, yet, Extremly skinny at the same time.

There is also a woman next to him, she looks rather athletic for a woman, she looks at the man sitting near the gunslinger and gives a few odd looks at the man, he gives a few odd looks back and they seem to change mood a bit. Almost as though they know whats going on, They both seem to sit and wait for the bartender to say whatever it is he is going to say.

A couple of Exusian patrol men walk in, One dawning a powersuit sort of deal, the other two wearing the light Exsusain trooper armors, The "Leader'" power suit has dual wrist blades underneath his hands, while having a built in side arm to his suit, His armor is thick, yet he chooses not to wear the helmet that goes with it, He has a slung "Ensi" SMG. The other two troopers wearing there helmets, using the standardized Side arm for Exsusain MP's. They stroll in looking among the crowd, there radios spout off chatter of a possible base for rebels. The leader seems to type on a keybad sort of thing on his wrist oposite of the side arm bearing arm.

The couple that were giving eachother strange looks seem to tense up slightly, waiting now for the patrol men to pass them by, or leave.

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The bartender tenses as the patrol enters. Ares seems not to notice as he waits for the man to answer his question. The bartender considers the picture for a long while, seemingly debating whether or not cooperate. By delaying so long he has already answered Ares' question even though he doesn't realize it. Finally he speaks up

"Surely you realize I cannot be divulging information about my customers, especially to any passing stranger with no credentials. And no, can't say I've seen the man," he finishes somewhat awkwardly.

Ares pockets the photo, slightly bemused.
"Yeah sure I understand. Just an old friend of mine and heard he was in the area. I'm only passing through myself," he replies, making a cursory glance over at the patrol before turning back to the bar.
"Could use a drink come to think of it. You got anything from Knossus? Preferably something sweet," he punctuates the statement with a 10 cred chit that he slaps onto the counter.

The barman seems to relax and takes the chit, appreciating the hefty tip and mixes the drink. Ares takes a sip and turns back to face the crowd, letting his eyes slowly scan the room and looking all the world like any other lonely traveler hoping to see a friendly face. His gaze passes over the tense-looking woman and man and he makes sure to keep his expression neutral. What have we here?

[Tom]

The Patrol men walk up to the bar, The one in the center appears to be the Marshall on the planet , the two others are a couple of enlist rank troopers "Barman I need a drink, Looks like its going to be a long night, Not to mention we have some super human BASTARD running around aparently. . . Uhhg. . . I hate my job."

The Marshall is a bit scruffy, he has his hair trimmed to about 1 inch long. He has brown hair and Dark brown eyes, he is well built.

The man in the civi's tries his best not to look suspicious, trying his best to relax and act natural. He motions to the odd acting woman in a covert manner, and suddenly she is "all over him" so to speak.

The woman has "Green" eyes and redishbrown hair.

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Ares rolls his eyes at the comment. How professional He ponders his drink for a moment and inspiration strikes. Polishing off the alcohol he heads to the bathroom. Locking the door to a stall he removes his gunbelt and shoves it into his pack. Free of that identifier (he realized he probably should have done this earlier, but is confident no one saw it under his duster) and shoulders the pack and heads back to the bar. He turns to the Marshal

"Should you really be drinking on the job? Don't you have some Lowborns to oppress or something?" Ares lets enough of his Lowborn accent into his speech to be convincing...he hopes.

[Tom]

The Marshall turns to the guy, his Marshall  badge sort of beaten "Yes Marshall Ill get right on that, along with the millions of other problems this planet has and has no money to take care of." He rolls his eyes at the man throwing down some credits. "The usal barman"

His suit is a standard "Vigorium" Power suit MKII, a slightly outdated suit. He unsilings his Ensi and lays it on the table, It is a bullpup stylized weapon, with a fold out ammo indicator.
It has the mark of the empire toward the front, but has the Marshalls name engraved in it "Amor"

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Ares frowns at the man. "You know things probably wouldn't be such a mess if losers like you actually did their job instead of complaining and drinking"
He steals a glance back over to the suspicious couple, just to make sure they are still there and braces for the likely fisticuffs to come. Let's see if the fish here take the bait...

[Tom]

The marshall simply chuckles "So we have ourselves a little Poloticain, Look bud I got this job 5 weeks ago after the rebels poped old man jenkins, Besides, its the fact that this place is such a shitter that we get NO funding from Valarian. . ." The marshall goes back to his drink seeming annoyed.

The man and the woman seem to be occupied with eachother, but the man offer ocasional glances at the patrolmen and the possible bounty hunter, He eventualy "Accedently" smashes his bottle, and shoves his hand in the ash tray seeing an impending fight about to unfold. Grabbing a hand full of ashes

The marshall notes the broken bottle "Oi! You gonna clean that shit up?"

"Im sorry it was an accedent"

"Of course it was. . ."

The marshall turns about toward the man, the two enlisters following suit.

The man motions his head and the woman backs off he stares down the marshall, and the marshall stares down him, He May be your man. But it is hard to tell since the marshall and the men are obscuring your view

[Mangoman]

A screech can be heard, followed  by a large crash as an empty van makes its way through the front of the bar, breaking down the door and the surrounding wall,crushing a pair of men drinking at a table. Water sprays out of broken pipes as the car slowly burns, the windsheild broken, and it covered in debree. Two men wearing leather armor and weilding Simple pump-action  shotguns are seen running through the madness, and quickly scan the room, looking for the Patrolmen.

[Tom]

The man throws ashes in the marshalls eyes while they are pre-occupied, and flicks the bottle toward one of the patrolmens necks, The other patrol man pulls out his pistol and raises it while the man goes to use the dieing guy in his arms as a meatshield, against the Marshall and Other patrollman, he pulls out the dieing Patrolmans pistol that he is using as a meatshield and aims it around his meat shield.

The Marshall stumbles back a bit rubbing his eyes, while trying to find his Ensi.

[Tom]

A tall man wearing a trench coat carrying a ak47 walks in.
He aims down the sights.

// Quick thing, THis is based WAY far in the future, and the front of the bar just got fucked by a Van.

To join in PLEASE PM me character details before starting to post as I don't want 90000 gunslingers and no rebels. Again I realize this is pretty vague so use your imagination and feel free to come up with cool stories and shit. Try to avoid stereotypical shit if possible and yeah have fun.

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Oh what the FUCK?

Things had been going well in Ares' mind right up until the fucking van drove into the bar. He sees the suspicious man take a swing at the patrolman and follows suit, aiming an elbow at Marshall's throat. He snatches the Marshall's Ensi off the bar table and fires 3 shots at the trooper aiming for the suspicious man.

He shifts his fire off the trooper and scans the room for any other threats, keeping his eyes on the van. What the hell just happened?

//AWds you need to PM me your character info before joining in.

[Mangoman]

The two leather suited men rush through the smoke. One hops over a toppled table, and fires his shotgun in the air; letting out a yell. The other kneels and fires a shot toward the marshalls direction. His shot is obscured by smoke and the sheer adrenaline. Creaking can be hear just before the shot, coming from the smoky-van's direction.

[Tom]

The man follows suit scanning the room, Jumping at Tank and yells "Late entery you ASSHAT! me and some random guy took care of it."

The marshall is on the ground unconcious.

The man drops the body on the ground and dusts himself off, grabbing the womans hand and walks toward the exit. Not even noting Ares at first then looks over at Ares "Who did you want to know about?"

[Mangoman]

A large, armored man steps off the van and through the smoke, coughing, he kicks the kneeling rebel in the back, him being in his way "Shut up...", Tank shakes his arms, and two large cleavers bend from his spaulders and into his hand, and then he scans the room and looks at the mysterious man. (//Ares)

[AwDs]

A unknown rumble is heard outside of the bar.

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//Guys you can use character names to describe shit even if you don't know them, that's not metagaming since you're setting a scene. Obviously for IC speech and shit you can't but there is no reason to be saying "Looks at the mysterious man ((Ares))"

Ares resists the urge to shoot the screaming idiot blasting holes in the ceiling and slings the Ensi as the armored newcomer eyes him. He decides to ignore the destructive idiot and  fumbles for the picture again. Holding it up for the suspicious man to see he says,

"I heard this guy was around here and that he might have connections I would be interested it...although I was not expecting any of this to happen. I think I might be getting close though, wouldn't you say?"

He takes stock of the room, eying the newcomers in the van and seeing if anyone is grievously injured.

"By the way what the fuck is the van all about...do you know that guy?"

His eyes settle on the girl and he sizes her up while he waits for a response.

The busted water pipe continues to spray but the bar is oddly silent as if everyone inside is too in shock to do anything. He takes a step over to the Marshall and starts removing spare ammo for the submachine gun. He dislikes the gun, preferring the more precise shooting offered by his revolver or his rifle but the Ensi is a solid little gun and he can't exactly be waving his Gunslinger weapon around in the middle of a rebel base now could he?

[Tom]

The "Eros" aka  "SOT-U746-L1456-14" still keeps his Itentity obscured with Sunglasses, and the hat. He Grins "Welcome to Isis bro. What sort of conections where you looking for?"
The woman fits the description and picture of anouther trooper in Ares mission roster named "SOM-U755-L1456-183" ((Specail Operations Medic)).

She keeps a blank expression on his face, and blinks a few times staring at Ares.

[Mangoman]

Tank looks away from the man, and to the bartender, pointing with his right cleaver "Hey bub, 2 of whatever you got.", he then kicks at the same rebel again.
The bartender shakes his head, and slowly backs away, clearly in awe from the recent events.

Tank walks closer, and slams his armored fist onto the bar, sliding onto a barstool. "Hmm?"

The bartender quickly grabs a mug from the back shelf and starts to fill it, shaking and spilling some as he slides it onto the bar.
   Tank messes with his right cleaver, pushing it back into his Huge wristguards untill a 'click' is heard, locking it in place. He then picks up the drink and takes a sip.

 The two other leather-suited men scramble up and lean on the wall.

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"The kind that shouldn't be talked about in public places with strange people," replied Ares, trying not to sound too eager at conveniently stumbling upon not 1 but 2 of his queries.

"...If you know where I could find him or could take me there though I would appreciate it. And even if you don't if I were you I would get moving. Someone probably noticed that retard mistaking this bar for a drive through" he adds.

He takes a step towards the door/big gaping hole. He peaks out, hand on the grip of the submachinegun.

[Tom]

You can hear the sound of a few patrol vehicles.

"Indeed" Eros adds walking with the woman to the emptiy Patrol Vehicle that the marshall was in "Yo' Tank, get yer boys to get in this shit so we can go before shit gets real."

He checks if the door is open and it is, and saddly the Marshall left the keys in the ignistion adding a remark "Amor Atil, you fucking idiot. You know they keep getting stupider and stupider assholes to put us down. . . I guess they think we are stupid and they can counter stupidity with more stupidity, Tsk Tsk."

Surprisingly Eroses voice is monotone with a bit of emotion now and then.

He leads the woman to the passenger seat, leading her in and then getting in the driver seat "Hey dude, you got a name? Come on, lets go for a ride."

[Mangoman]

Tank whistles and the two henchmen run up behind him. He then finishes the beer, slamming it onto the bar. Tank slowly gets up, stretching his arms. He slowly walks to the door, pushing the other cleaver back in , he then says to the pedestrians "Well....you guys have been too nice."

   The henchmen walks behind him as he walks to the car, and slides into the backseat. The car noticably goes own from all the weight, as the henchmen run around and sit on the trunk.

[AwDs]

Suddenly, A small vehicle pulls up. A mercenary wearing his armor hops out. The car drives into the distant.

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Ares looks at the crowded car and wonders how his large frame could possibly fit. Somehow he succeeds in getting into the car. "I hope it isn't far. You can call me Eric. Who are you?" he says, clearly directing the question to everyone in the car.

This is going quite well...

"Who's that?" he asks upon spotting the unusually well-armed mercenary-looking fellow. He ran through all the units he knew to be operating in this area in his head and came up with nothing that matched that armor and weapon loadout. Means mercenary. Idiot van driver.

More people meant more witnesses and while he wasn't particularly adverse to killing things were always much simpler when you only had your targets to worry about. Right now his count of "people who could prove problematic" was up to 4, not counting the 2 targets. He patted his backpack absentmindedly, feeling the outline of his weapon.

[Tom]

Eros after seeing Ares is in "Okiedokes Eric, Im Eros."

He turns on the car and pulls away driving toward the Rebel encampment ((Good stoping point for me))

A couple of patrol cars pull up and troopers pour out of them, tending to wounded and asking questions.

One asks the merc "Who, what, when, where?"

(stopping since one o' clock is late.)