Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Insanity, Apr 21, 2013.

  1. Ryder had grown up in the foster system, it wasn't as though he was going to learn a bunch of great morals there. He had a few foster parents that actually tried, but typically they were just in it for the bonus checks that they got.

    Ryder did learn a lot, though. Mostly just from the other children. He learned how to pick pockets, locks, and aliases. He learned how to break into, and then hotwire, a car. He learned how to plan a heist, not well exactly but he almost always did what he needed to do.

    Ryder had always been very flexible, which was easier with his small size. The little brunette boy, currently nineteen, had been pretty deep in his own freelancing business before he had been brought into this small, makeshift team.

    He partially limped back into base, trying to act like he was fine. His leg was okay; he was limping because he had gotten thrown against a wall and he was pretty sure that he cracked some of his ribs. If he didn't walk a certain way then they hurt a lot.

    They had just arrived back at base after their most recent mission. Something had gone wrong and someone had snuck up on Ryder when he was cracking the safe. He was pretty sure that the others were hurt, too, so maybe they wouldn't notice.

    Ryder didn't usually get hurt. Even when he did he acted like he hadn't. As a child, he had to do everything for himself. Being hurt or sick was a weakness that people took advantage of if they new about it.

    Plus, Ryder had the need to constantly move around. If he had to stay on bed rest or something he couldn't do his typical flips and cartwheels.

    He loved gymnastics. He was double jointed and extremely flexible so he was good at them.

    He broke out of his thoughts, looking around the base. When you first walked in, it was a business like area with a desk and cubical for each member of the team.

    There were hallways leading to a kitchen, bathrooms, bedrooms, an infirmary, a weapons room, a gym, and other places you could find in a house.

    It was. . . nice.


    [So this is a spy team RP

    Spots Taken:

    Most everything is fine aside from explicit scenes that haven't been faded to black and incest.

    Not too many females. I've noticed on my RPs that we either get a good amount of both genders or an excess amount of females.

    This is reality so no teleporting or supernatural creatures.

    Check out the OOC thread for plots and what not.

    Put yourself into the RP but don't push yourself into private conversations unless it's a character trait.

    Character ages 18+]
    #1 Insanity, Apr 21, 2013
    Last edited by a moderator: May 10, 2013
  2. Seamus was sitting in the corner as Ryder came back in. He was in a small chair, leaning up against the wall, sharpening his knives. Seamus loved his knives, and his explosives. As a kid, he would always take fireworks and cut them open, experimenting with the different materials. Sometimes he made weak explosions, just a flash and a pop, and others he would make explosions large enough to take out a car.

    Seamus had a sick, twisted mind. He was a little sadistic. He blamed it on his father, a drunk who would beat him and his mom. Once he stuck a Roman Candle in a cat's ass and watched it shoot down the street. He hated that cat. He hated his father more. He blew up his fathers car once, but sadly, he was not in his car. Seamus got quite a beating. The next explosive he set off was on his father. He warned his mom to leave. She packed up some stuff, and let Seamus do his thing. He tied his father to the gas main and activated the C4 strapped to his fathers chest.

    The whole house went up in flames. And his' neighbors.

    After his mother died of pneumonia a few months later, he learned to avoid cops. He Helped Ryder break into a few places with small explosives. He became a demolitions expert, using high powered explosives to break into heavy guarded places, such as vaults.

    Even since he had been part of the team, Seamus didn't talk much. Everyone thought he was either mute, retarded, sounded weird, or was constantly pissed off. He was constantly pissed off, but that's not why he was mostly silent. He was silent because he was respecting his mother. She told him when those he loved died, to be silent until the void was filled. It still hasn't been.

    He looked up from staring at his blade, and looked over at Ryder. Though he said no words, the expression on his face asked what was wrong.
  3. Stitch walked out and folded her arms, eying Ryder and the way he was walking. "You're right, Seamus, something is wrong."

    The woman stood at about 5' tall but didn't let anyone underestimate her. She insisted she could do anything that any of the guys could do. Her specialty was, as she liked to put it, 'stitching the guys up when they came back in pieces'. She was the medic. And maybe the oldest at 30 years old. She didn't mother anyone either. If you were in pain you either got chloroform or told to suck it up and bite the bullet and stop getting tears all over her operating table.

    Despite her usually abrasive demeanor, she did care about everyone and didn't usually yell, unless it was to be heard over everyone else...or the person crying on her operating table. Seamus held a special place in her eyes because she saw the same hurt and mourning she drank to forget every time it cropped up. She learned to read his facial expressions early on and carried on conversations with him as if he was speaking to her the whole time. It was kinda creepy sometimes.

    Though, half the time she talked to him because it didn't look as weird as if she were talking to herself. And she did that a lot. A LOT.

    "What's wrong, Ryder? You stub your toe or something?" She walked over to him, eying how he walked. "It's your ribs, isn't it? Where's everyone else?"
  4. "I don't know," Ryder muttered, slowly easing himself to lay on the couch so it wouldn't hurt as badly, "I was supposed to take my own getaway car. Sorry I'm not more help. I think I'm just gonna. . . Sleep for a little while. I don't feel very good. Night, guys."
  5. Dj had walked in the room just returning from the bathroom. he stood at 5'10" . he had a mini Afro on top his head. being only 19 you could tell he was young by just one glance. his specialty was sharpshooter but if need be he is very skill full in close combat using hands or weapons.. as a kid he was trained in many combat styles, and with most assault rifles and sniper rifles. he started college at 14 years and was done at 18 and recruited by the agency to be a spy ((didn't know weather or not to put history))
    He takes a seat on the couch and pulls out his phone. he looks at his team members"hey guys anything come in?" his eyes then veer to the phone.
  6. "Yeah, an injured Ryder." She walked over and stood in front of Ryder, arms crossed, looking as menacing as she could at her short height. "Let me wrap your ribs or they're going to get worse. If you're stupid and don't let me, cracks are going to turn into breaks and you'll puncture a lung and die. Ya really want that?" She leaned in, her brown hair falling into her eyes.

    It was then that Drustan walked in. It was rumored that him and Stitch were twins, mostly because they were both at least close to the same age (no one knew for sure) and because it would be funny. Drustan stood at 6'6 and was basically a solid wall of muscle. He walked up behind Stitch and picked her up, tossing her back over his shoulder like a rag-doll. "What's this about Ryder being broken?" The large man asked, looking down at Ryder, ignoring how much Stitch was kicking and screaming to be let down.
  7. "I'm fine, Drustan," Ryder groaned, somewhat glad that he was occupying Stitch's time but not having had wanted him to ask that question, "I just need some sleep. I'll be back to doing flips and cartwheels tomorrow. I'm not going to puncture a lung. I'm not going to die. Besides, if I do puncture a lung then you'll probably just save me and until then I have a second lung to use to breathe."
  8. Drustan shook his head. "Ryder, you know better than that. We're a team, right? And a team, like a chain, is only as strong as it's weakest link." He was typically seen as the leader...mostly because a 'leader' was never talked about and Drustan was the one that recruited everyone and sent them out on missions and whatnot. But he never called himself the leader. And he usually stood around and gave sappy 'teamwork' speeches. For being a solid wall of muscle, he was a pretty sappy person. Either way, the 'chain' metaphor was one he used often. Very often. Actually, all of his metaphors were used often. Like he read some crappy 'How to Lead Your Team' book. Which....which he did, but that wasn't the point!

    "Ugh! Shut up and put me down!" She kept kicking, but...well...her against Drustan, she only won if she had a needle in her hand. "I'll drag him into my office once he's asleep and set his ribs and wrap them then! He'll wake up to the horrible pain of it all! PUT ME DOWN, GOD DAMN IT!"

    "Stitch, you know I don't like such language being used around the children."

    That just sent her off in another string of curses, some of which were...rather creative, honestly. And horrible.

    He grinned and winked at Ryder. "Will you please let her wrap your ribs?"
  9. "It's gonna hurt," Ryder whined, one of his hands hovering protectively over his ribs, "And I'm not letting her cloroform me. That always gives me a headache and one time I threw up."
  10. "If they're only cracked, wrapping them will just keep them from moving too much and they'll heal much faster." He said calmly, bouncing Stitch on his shoulder some.

    "I swear to god I'm going to fucking kill you!"

    He smiled. "Come on, Ryder. You know it'll be for the best in the long run. Preventative measures now are better than clean-up later. You know that."
  11. "She has to promise to be gentle," Ryder pouted, "And she has to stop if I tell her too because it hurts. She's really mean. Girls have a higher tolerance for pain than boys do. She doesn't understand that."
  12. "Stop whining about it!!" She sighed and stopped struggling. "Life hurts, kid! Surely you know that by now!"

    Drustan sighed and shook his head, putting her down. "That was unnecessary, Stitch. Stop being a bitch." He put his hand on top of her head and looked down at her. "No one likes pain but you."

    She narrowed her eyes at him, then turned away, pushing his hand off. "I'm just wrapping your ribs so they don't move so much. That's all. It isn't going to hurt that much."
  13. "You better not be lying," Ryder muttered, trying to sound annoyed but sounding more scared instead, "Do I have to move or can I just stay here?"
  14. "You can stay there." She said, calmer than she had said anything since Drustan walked in. She turned and walked back towards the infirmary to grab some bandages.

    Drustan smiled. "There. All settled." He looked around. "How is everyone else doing?"
  15. Ryder closed his eyes when Stitch left the room, hoping that if he fell asleep he wouldn't wake up even if it hurt.

    "Well I am fantastic," Geo declared, walking into the room carrying a cheesecake, "I finally made a cheesecake."

    Geo wasn't actually a part of the team, he was just kind of friends with them. He used their kitchen a lot. Geo didn't look like much of a cook, he was a thin, pale blonde covered in tattoos. He loved cooking, though. He had used to be in the business but he decided to follow his passion for cooking instead.

    He had this thing he called the 'Geo' law. It meant that he wouldn't tell anyone what other spies were doing as long as no one tried to arrest or kill or torture him. He liked the team the most out of the rest of the spy world but he hang out with other people, too.
  16. Seamus walks over and places a hand on Drustan's shoulder, nodding his head and smiling. He walks back to the infirmary where Stitch is. He looks at her and nods his head and looks to the side at Drustan. What do you think of him? said his devious smile.
  17. "What do I think about who? Drustan or Ryder?" She asked, casting him a glance to read his expression before going back to digging around for things. "I think Ryder's kinda a whiner and Drustan's too tall for blood to get to his head properly, I'm pretty sure." She shrugged and stood straight. She smiled at him. "But, ya know, family's family."

    Drustan nodded to Seamus, then looked at Geo. "Fuck yeah, cheesecake!" He said happily, walking over. "How long until we can eat it? I fucking love cheesecake!"
  18. "We can eat it now," Geo replied, setting it down on the coffee table, "I'll go get plates and forks and stuff."

    He headed off back to the kitchen, returning with said items. He set them down, cutting out a piece of cheesecake and putting it on a plate for Drustan.
  19. Seamus silently laughs at her. His head perks up at the first mention of cheesecake. For a 5'2" Irishman with the fightin' spirit of his ancestors, he fucking loved cheesecake. He motioned to Stitch, C'mon, let's get Ryder fixed and have a slice.
  20. "I like the way you think, Seamus." She said, smiling. She turned around and walked out. "I heard something about cheesecake." She walked over to the couch. "Seamus, sit the kid up. Looks like he fell asleep...I need his shirt off, too, but if you could carefully sit him up, I can get the shirt."

    He grinned and sat at the table, taking his plate happily. "Thanks, Geo. You're awesome." He took a bite and sat back. "Mmmm....Awesome." He said around his mouthful of cake.