M
Mixavia
Guest
Original poster
When the bombs fell, well.. It would be nice to say we were ready. But you can't possibly be ready for your world, the Earth as you know it, to end in a blink of an eye. We were scared, exhausted, and only a few actually knew what to do. Soon enough it became obvious these people were going to be our leaders. Even back then, when we couldn't decide whether to run away or curl up on the ground and wait for death to come, that much was clear - there were going to be changes. Big changes.
It didn't take us long to realize we weren't welcomed on the surface anymore. Sure, at first it was all pretty quiet - when I think about it now, heck, it was heaven! - but we had to worry about many things. Food. Water. Radiation. Other people. To say that what happened fucked some people up would be an understatement. Some died of wounds, some killed themselves, and others had no other goal in life than to kill you instead. But even I was taken aback by how much people were able to change. I saw fathers killing their whole families, maybe out of madness, maybe out of pity; children leaving the safe embrace of their mother's arms in order to walk away with a complete stranger that had a bit of food; mothers selling their young daughters and sons for provisions. All kinds of stuff they wouldn't normally do.
Hopefully.
And then we had to find our new home. At least here we didn't have a problem. After all, it was originally built as a shelter and now it could really serve its purpose. The metro. It's been twenty years now and it served us well. The stations warped into settlements, but it's barely the Eden we were hoping for when we first came here. No, you see, when it comes to people, you can be sure about two things. One - we can get used to fucking everything. And two - we won't pass up a chance for blowing someone's head. And we've been at it for as long as I can remember. Forming alliances, making "friends", not trusting anyone.
Our station, Belorusskaya, a part of the Belorusskaya Trade Outpost, is a good place to live in. We managed to handle everything with care. Neutral and pretty much self-reliant, we make the rules. Sometimes. As long as we don't fuck with Hansa, we should be good.
We don't have many stalkers around. We don't need to. Set between the plantations and Hansa, we're pretty much carefree. But sometimes we have to get a bunch of people and send them off to another stations. Normally you'd call them "managers", "stalkers" if you really want to be kind, and "suiciders" if you don't care anymore.
Funny thing, though.. We never had a problem finding people for those journeys in the first place.
***
And that's the first part of the introduction, more less. The second will appear in the IC thread.
It didn't take us long to realize we weren't welcomed on the surface anymore. Sure, at first it was all pretty quiet - when I think about it now, heck, it was heaven! - but we had to worry about many things. Food. Water. Radiation. Other people. To say that what happened fucked some people up would be an understatement. Some died of wounds, some killed themselves, and others had no other goal in life than to kill you instead. But even I was taken aback by how much people were able to change. I saw fathers killing their whole families, maybe out of madness, maybe out of pity; children leaving the safe embrace of their mother's arms in order to walk away with a complete stranger that had a bit of food; mothers selling their young daughters and sons for provisions. All kinds of stuff they wouldn't normally do.
Hopefully.
And then we had to find our new home. At least here we didn't have a problem. After all, it was originally built as a shelter and now it could really serve its purpose. The metro. It's been twenty years now and it served us well. The stations warped into settlements, but it's barely the Eden we were hoping for when we first came here. No, you see, when it comes to people, you can be sure about two things. One - we can get used to fucking everything. And two - we won't pass up a chance for blowing someone's head. And we've been at it for as long as I can remember. Forming alliances, making "friends", not trusting anyone.
Our station, Belorusskaya, a part of the Belorusskaya Trade Outpost, is a good place to live in. We managed to handle everything with care. Neutral and pretty much self-reliant, we make the rules. Sometimes. As long as we don't fuck with Hansa, we should be good.
We don't have many stalkers around. We don't need to. Set between the plantations and Hansa, we're pretty much carefree. But sometimes we have to get a bunch of people and send them off to another stations. Normally you'd call them "managers", "stalkers" if you really want to be kind, and "suiciders" if you don't care anymore.
Funny thing, though.. We never had a problem finding people for those journeys in the first place.
***
And that's the first part of the introduction, more less. The second will appear in the IC thread.
Now, facts.
- Your characters start in the Belorusskaya station, known for having a bunch of plantations behind, and Hansa in front. You guys are covered.
- You're a bunch of managers/stalkers/suiciders that agreed to travel around the metro and trade with the stations in Belorusskaya's name. OR DIE TRYING. Or actually screw everything.
- Whether you agreed to that because you're a jolly good fellow or you're just running away from people trying to kill you, it's up to you.
- This will be an alternative-Metro 2033 universe. Meaning the metro looks the same, the setting is the same, but you won't be dealing with any canon characters. I would probably ruin them.
- Have a look at your Metro! There's lots of stuff going on.
- What're ya buyin'? If you need some ideas for weapons.
- Belorusskaya Trade-what? Hansa? Just go here if you're confused.
- You don't have to read all that. Don't worry.
Character Sheet and stuff.
Name: Duh.
Nickname (optional): are you cool enough to have one?
Nationality (optional) : your character doesn't have to be Russian. Pick any nationality you want, but keep in mind 99,9% of people in the metro are Russian. They aren't exactly trustful towards one another, not to mention a foreigner. Then again, as long as you can shoot, you're cool. More less.
Station (optional) : so now you're in Belorusskaya, but maybe you're a "citizen" of another station? Feel free to pick whichever.
Age: the year is 2033; the bombs fell in 2013. Do your math. Can be born before or after the war, your choice.
Gender: I can't even explain that one.
Appearance: briefly describe your character. No need for pictures, unless you want to.
Equipment: unless you want to go all Rambo-like, this one is quite important. Just bear in mind this is post-apo, so most of the stuff you have is SHIT. There. I said it.
Hey, mom, look what I can do: unless your character is less than thirty years old (more less), he/she had to do something before the war. What was their profession back then? Can they use it now for anything?
Known facts: anything the other characters could know about your character.
Personal history (optional) : pre or post-war; anything you want to share about your character with the PLAYERS, but not the characters.
Q&A
1. Do you know what you're doing?
Yes.
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