Everybody wants to rule Omegopolis

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Ochalla, Oct 3, 2010.

  1. (OOC)

    "This is Rachel Dune, with BCC News here in Prisoner's Square where moments ago DayTrader, member of the City's Ultra-squad broke up a gang war between the notorious Klean Klan, and the mysterious DoomRiders." As the peppy news reported spouted the police propaganda, a picture of the clean cut, bright spandex wearing so called super hero was in the corner of the screen, smiling his pearly whites as though to hypnotize the citizens with it's glare. The cameraman was panning the shot out onto the square where much destruction could be scene. Though it was possible that there could have been members in either of the gangs with super powers, must of the destruction looked to be related to the DayTrader's signature power blast.

    A close up shot showed three clean cut looking young men being put into the police wagon. They wore white shirts with black ties, slacks, and shoes. Or at least the viewers could imagine they were clean cut before the battle. Now their clothing was torn and stained with blood and soot.

    There was only a brief glimpse of any DoomRiders, one person in leather garments on a stretcher heading to the hospital.

    The events that transpired were interchangeable with the half a dozen such events that had happened recently and it was almost dull except to those that were detailed oriented. For those, there was not enough information in the news blip. Shortly the scene was cut and the anchors were on the air again.

    "Despite growing efforts from the city's police department and the extra help in justice from our own Ultra-squad, figures show that serious crime has gone up. With a 10% increase in all crime, the largest increase has been violent crimes including murder. For an analysts of this is Doctor Humburger of OmegoUniversity. Doctor, what do you believe is the cause of this increase."

    The split screen went up, where the male anchor could be seen and on the other side was static. There should have been an old, slightly looney looking man on the other side, but there wasn't. After a moment the split-screen was switched back to a full screen and one could see the female anchor again.

    "It would seem we're having some, um, technical difficulties. We'll get back to the doctor. In other news..."
  2. The news often amused Dracul. He sat in a room that was completely dark with nothing but the television to light it up. Two of his enormous paws were clasped together so his muzzle could settle on them, the elbows on the arms of his chair. This room was basically his fortress of solitude, where he would sit by his lonesome and try to relieve himself of any depression or anger without hurting someone.

    we're having some, um, technical difficulties...'

    Dracul was bored now and feeling more like himself. He left his television on and walked out of the room, one of his four arms slamming the door behind him. He was at the second floor of his mansion that he took away from the old man that originally owned it. From the balcony, he surveyed all that was below him. The place was so dusty and grim looking; the bright colours all seemed to be shades of gray now. Dracul did not care...

    His tail flicked back and forth as he went stomping down the long flight of stairs. He then paused and called out with his deep voice, "Clare!? Would you come here, please?"
  3. Hearing the call of her true boss, Clare saved the file that she had been working on on her laptop. Standing up, she stretched as she walked to find Dracul. It didn't take her long to arrive at the stairs and smile up to see who other's referred to as a beast or a monster. It was true, he was not wholly human, but Clare never was fearful because of his appearance.

    "Yes sir, was there something you needed?" she asked once she was a few steps below him, looking up. Her hair was up in a bun, indicating that she had not done much since coming here from the downtown office but work. Dracul didn't need to worry about her being distracted by any of it. She had her priorities straight after all.
  4. The wall-big screen went blank as the Doctor chuckled. So easy to make it seem like the city was the utopia it pretended to be. Nothing about the missing people now his guests here to help him in his experiments, nothing about how easy it was to siphon money from the corporate haven they had created. IT was all so easy, and things were only going to get bigger and better.

    He stood from his chair and without perceivable movement under his old school floor length lab coat me crossed the room stopping in front of the express elevator down to the... private levels. The only ones who still had lungs to breath allowed down here were him and Vasilev. There were two kinds help, those who were not worth the money, and those who charged a lot of it. Vasilev was in the latter category and even more to make sure he kept his name exclusively on the doctor's employee list. He passed through the secure door and entered the lab. It was almost fully automated robots building robots, there weren't many right now but that would noon change. There were many people who would never be missed.
  5. The lonely sound of water dripping from a nearby broken pipe was the only thing keeping Arden company. The whole place was abandoned and falling down around his twitchy ears but it was home. Sneezing hard from the mood that grew near his bed he rubbed his eyes and smudged face. 'Fine.. fine Im up.. whatever you say mother..' He often spoke to the picture on the wall of a 1950's woman holding up a coffee cup. It was some old sign from across the street. It was rusted and bent, bullet holes in it and the paint was chipping but he rescued it nonetheless.

    A whiring noise came from his chair as he plugged into it and settled in for a day of goodie hunting as he liked to call it. It was out right stealing but he never saw it that way. He had a need, they had to much crap so he helped them loose some of their baggage thats all. Watches, rings, laptops, cellphones, i-pods, cameras, wallets, jackets, sunglasses, canes, ink cartitages, toner, o2 bottles, spare parts, nuts n bolts, jump drives, god the list could go on forever and ever.. but that was just what he could carry.

    Small light and fast was his chair and he didnt weight more then 30 pounds soaking wet so he could get in and out of most small cafe's, restuarants, dinners, hotels, train stations, bus depots and anyplace else like nothing. Most of his loot was stached away in his room in the maintance room of the old hospital. This was home for him. Crap all over, but it was his crap. Some stuff belonged to some high profile people but to him it was loot plain and simple.

    Buzzing back and forth he sorted out a few things and then put his goggles on. Today he had to get water.. the only place that had it was the cafe across the street. Checking his watch.. it was daytime. Shit.. growling since he over slept he set out for the crack in the wall ready to fourby his way over the bricks and glass to get across the street. Looking around he had to make sure the coast was clear.