|
|
|
|
|
|
|
PQ and Retrostacja Captain
|
 Posted: Wed Jul 28, 2010 8:08 pm
Fight Club The world is a murky stream of noise as you slowly begin to regain consciousness. Where you are or how you got there, you have no idea. Trying to rack your memories, the dull throb of your head starts to intensify. The ground underneath you is cool and damp, and slowly closing your fists you can feel the grainy texture of whatever you are laying on.
The smell of sweat starts to overwhelm you, and as you try to hold down vomit, you know that the the intensity of it could only come from a very concentrated space with too many bodies.
Without warning, something tugs onto the collar of your shirt and jerks you to your feet. You aren't ready for it; the world spins and your stomach churns in response. The moment your feet touch the ground, the sound of people chanting starts to echo the throbbing of your head.
You go to open your eyes; a bright light blinds you and sends shots of pain from your skull to your toes. The dizziness returns and you can feel yourself start to fade again.
It was a concussion. The realization hits before you hit the ground. An alleyway, laughter, and then the pipe.....
Either moments or hours later you wake up, finding yourself on an unforgiving cot. What had been jolting pain in your head was now reduced to an annoying throb.
"The Puppy is up. I'm out of here." A unfamiliar voice grunts before you can hear the creaking of a chair. Just as you sit up, something is tossed onto your lap. Slowly opening your eyes, you reach for whatever it was and realize that it's a set of dog tags.
The voice you realize belongs to a gruff looking man with a clean shaven head but a large black beard peppered with gray. "Welcome to Fight Club, Puppy."
What was Fight Club? How did you get here? Who was that? On a more important note....who were you?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 28, 2010 8:28 pm
Everything Else You Need to Know Fight Club is a roleplay with multiple purposes. It:
1. Let's people fight each other.
2. Helps relieve stress
3. Improves fighting skills
People who participate in the roleplay must be willing to do the following:
1. Follow the TOS
2. Not God-Mod
3. Respect others in the RP
4. Accept criticism
5. Be willing to give criticism
I want this roleplay to be both a fun time but also a learning experience. Fighting is a pretty common factor in many roleplays and learning how to roleplay it properly in a respectable and fair way is always a good thing.
OOC talk is allowed within the thread. Please keep it to a minimum unless it is to critique others.
-----
Your character wakes up in the Infirmary of an old abandoned hospital on top of a massive mountain. How it got there or what happened to it is unknown. You have no memory of who you were before you got there, and next to no memory as to how you got there. The man you first met when you woke up named Buzz Saw tells you that you have one day to recover before you are thrown to the wolves.
He tells you that you will have to fight every person that challenges you, and all that you challenge must accept. Death is illegal, although the many stages up to it are free game. The meal hours are safe times, as well as 12am-7am. And no, he does not know who you are. And he doesn't care.
There are various weapons that exist within the building, but you must take them from someone you defeat, or you earn them in various challenges. For now you are simply given a very simple weapon: a four foot pipe, a knife, or brass knuckles.
----
Here is the form you will need to fill out and PM to me.
[size=11][b]Club name:[/b]
[b]Weapon of Choice:[/b](This will change as you gain them)
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Height:[/b]
[b]Weight:[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b] (Descriptions and Images accepted. Real people preferred over to anime)
[b]Personality:[/b]
|
|
|
|
|
|
PQ and Retrostacja Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
PQ and Retrostacja Captain
|
Posted: Wed Jul 28, 2010 8:30 pm
Character Profiles PQ and Retrostacja Club name: The Duke
Weapon of Choice:A set of brass knuckles
Age: 24
Height: 6'2''
Weight:135lbs
Appearance: [x] She tells people that her freckles are the stains of all the blood that has soaked into her skin. And after she fights, they tend to believe her. Her various tattoos were done in Fight Club and indicate her ranks in several groups of weapon, commodity and sex dealers.
Personality: The Duke is a sort of girl that doesn't want to ******** with you, per say. Despite her appearance she is pretty passive. She'll fight if challenged, no questions asked, but it's rare that she'll issue a challenge herself. Duke prefers using her body to get herself out of fights rather than her fists, but will use both of she has to. She is known for saying "I make love and war, what'll be?" Her goal is to get into the weapons dealing business because it gets her respect, first choice, and less challenges.
During Safe Times she is a very calm but impulsive person. Duke tends to get herself into more trouble during Safe Time than any other. Her mouth opens up before it lets her mind process what she wants to say. Why she likes the punk style and culture she doesn't remember, but really doesn't see the allure of it. kingwerewolf Club name: Harry "Spike" Peterson
Weapon of Choice: Knife
Age: 29
Height: Six feet flat.
Weight: One fifty.
Appearance: Slight build, mis,matched eyes (Left is very light blue, right is yellow), longish red-brown hair. His mother was japanese, his father English. Has a "K" shaped scar on his upper left arm. When he grins, he tends to bite down on his lower lip. He's dress in loose tan pants, held up by tightly wound cloths on his waist and ankles.
Personality: He's a little mad, but can mostly hold back. He fights in hopes that he'll be free, maybe earn prize-money to open a Bike store. He'd rather not take a life, but he won't go out of his way to kill.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 28, 2010 9:54 pm
There was an odd satisfaction to feeling skin split underneath her fist. It wasn't a sensation like any other, and it gave her a peculiar adrenaline rush that couldn't be explained. The give of bone beneath the surrendering flesh was nearly orgasmic.
Bright red and sticky blood splattered across her freckled skin, momentarily blinding her as she followed through with the slam to the challenger's jaw. In her moment of weakness she stumbled, catching the foot of her opponent. Despite the blow, they had seen that she was going to have to step forward in order to keep her balance from the punch.
Trying to catch herself from falling, Duke was instead jerked backwards as they grabbed a fist of her mohawk. Trying to blink out the blood from her eyes, she smelled the rank stench of breath as he closed the space between their faces. His breathing was ragged, and she could feel blood dripping onto her face from his slack jaw. A slack and broken jaw, to her mild satisfaction.
His weapon of choice, a two sided combat knife, traced up her body. From her mid-calf, he slowly brought it up closer and closer to her neck. With each inch, the pressure grew more intense.
Duke's head spun as she hissed in pain; he was digging the tip of his blade into the wounds he had already made. She could feel them burst to life again. Closer the blade came to her throat, and she knew that was his goal.
Mind racing, she felt up her position quickly. Her arms were growing numb but were still functional. And minus a few knicks, her legs were in good shape. An idea sprung to her mind and she impulsively acted before reason could settle in.
Simultaneously, Duke reached up and took hold of the blade from the opposing blade and lifted the leg facing him up. Screaming in pain and rage, she could feel the blade cut deep into her palm. But still she went.
Her yell had momentarily caught him off guard. Taking her boot, she slammed her foot sideways into his knee, and jerked the blade out of his hand. The tearing of muscle in his knee was sickening and wet. But it promised her another day without being maimed by his blade.
Pulling herself from him, Duke watched him fall. The pain had tipped him over the edge and mixed with his other injuries caused him to black out. All for the better, she supposed.
"Shoulda chosen love," Duke said in a mocking tone as she started to walk away. Only after the few steps did she realize that she was still clutching the double bladed dagger by the one side. "
Well, she was going to the Infirmary anyway. Instead of keeping the dagger she decided she'd keep it and sell it to the weapons dealer. It had disfigured many of the people here, and would fetch a good price.
|
|
|
|
|
|
PQ and Retrostacja Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
