Metro 2033 - OOC/Q&A

M

Mixavia

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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.


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.
  • 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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Name: Trevor La'Gatzi

Nickname (optional): Station!

Nationality (optional) : Trevor is of an unknown origin, it is said that he's human, but perhaps with a bit of molecular misproportion, things aren't exactly what they appear to be. One could only hope that Trevor is still human. Though his accent might say that he's French, but he often throws folks off by masking his natural accent.

Station (optional) : Trevor is from a station somewhere along the Continental Railroad. Most of his resources used to rely on things that would grow naturally, such as a farm. After the bombs fell, he managed surface shelter only for so long before joining a crew of people to find the nearest metro. They all died off, but Trevor; some lucky survivor of the aftermath enduring crazies and radioactive material.

Age: Trevor's age often goes undisclosed, as well as most of his identity, since he has a tendency to wear a goat skull over his face, but his facial hair may pinpoint somewhere around his twenties.

Gender: Male.

Appearance: Trevor tries his best to salvage what cloth he can find, often adorning himself in war-torn cloth to cover his body. Station, on the other hand, cares not for clothes, and if he must; will only wear a loin cloth.

Equipment: Trevor tries to be a man of tact, utilizing the majority of his environment to fend off opposition that may be a danger to him. Station prefers wielding large, blunt weapons to stun and attack his opponents, often resulting in a large, bloody mess.

Hey, mom, look what I can do: Trevor was a blacksmith, utilizing scrap metals to make tools, and even sometimes weapons. He also did a bit of farming, and traveled a lot, too.

Known facts: Trevor has involuntary bouts of schizophrenia, where his alter-ego is "Station", a barbaric, mindless brute who salvages any and everything unbeknownst to Trevor. However, this wasn't until after the war that Station was discovered.

Personal history (optional) : Nothing here.
 
Name: Miomichi Coarizake

Nickname (optional): Mio
Nationality (optional) : Japanese-Chinese (with a bit of German)

Station (optional) : Belorusskaya

Age: 19
Gender: Female

Appearance: She's a damn good seamstress, so she used what materials she could find to make a battle-suit of light and more elastic cloth materials. Mio also has scars all over her body, as well as three claw-marks upward on her left cheek and a scar going down over her right eye. Sometimes, her ice blue eyes turn to a calm, deep blue, but rarely.
cqcgirlbyalf874dpm9or.jpg


Equipment: Tons of throwing knives, three trench knives, two revolvers, and a Kalash (AK 74-M)

Hey, mom, look what I can do: ~

Known facts: She has a tendency to go on self-arguments and discussions, hates just about everyone, a little bit misanthropic and apathetic, enjoys the dark, extremely acrobatic and flexible, and loves blood and fighting.

Personal history (optional) : Having been born after the war, she has never step foot outside of Belorusskaya. She was born and raised in the station, living with her mother and father. Mio mostly lived an abused childhood, being beaten by her drunken father. Though her mother cared for her, she only lived until Mio was about 10 years old. It took a year for her father to get killed, which she laughed about when she heard he had been killed because he screwed with the wrong person in a bar. Ever since her father died, she had been living on her own.
 
Name: Mikhail Vladimirovich Tvardovsky

Nickname: Gramps

Nationality: Russian

Station: Mayakovskaya

Age: 64

Gender: Male

Appearance: Old is what best describes Mikhail. He is pretty tall and wiry, his face is long and wrinkled. He looks like he was made from chiseled wood. He dresses himself in an old, grey jacket under which he likes to wear his Russian army Tyelniashka (striped shirt). On his head he wears an old, worn out baseball cap.

Equipment: A long bayonet in his boot. Old nagant revoler in a holster on his chest and a Russian Saiga semi-automatic shotgun. A trusty, old gas mask with a long trunk.

What can he do: He can tinker a bit and also repair most of the stuff he is carrying with him, but his greatest ability is staying alive no matter what.

Known facts: Mikhail was a pilot during both Chechen wars and loves to tell stories about that. He also loves to drink, gamble and listen to music. His hobby is gathering old music tapes.

Personal history: Two wars, two wives, one heart-attack. Now a wandering junker, merchant and sometimes a stalker.
 
JOLLY.

You are all accepted.

Adding my character, if I make one in the end, and maybe one/two more people, we should be good to go.
 
Name: Nemo Victoria, or was it Victoria Nemo? ( It hasn't told anyone it's name but as far as it can remember, it's that. )


Nickname (optional): "Goggles" or "Helmet"


Nationality (optional) : Russian sure enough, but you couldn't tell, it's synthesized voice doesn't have an accent.

Age: 34

Gender: Ambiguous, the way it dresses, acts and it's overall demeanor points to neither gender.

Appearance: It was tall, it wore all black leather, gave no signs of ever taking it off. It had blue lights in it's helmet as to shine out it's eyes.
Genetic_Repo_Man_by_Hollow_Eyed.png
repo_helmet_by_lorddraco3-d362y14.jpg
Equipment: It has a machete and an old revolver . Both slightly rusted but capable and working. It didn't have many bullets for the revolver but it knew how to shoot.

Hey, mom, look what I can do: It was fourteen when the bombs fell. Before it had learned had learned to stay in shadows, get access to the places it wanted. It could pick a lock and find the hidden places most others wouldn't even see. It was good at hiding, maybe thats why it survived.

Known facts: It is slightly insane. It's voice is synthesized and it has been rumored that it never sleeps. Some people say it's a demon, some a robot, and even some just say a lost person. But whatever it was, it was useful, it would go out on the missions and be one of the most resourceful members there. Not to mention, it has saved a few lives.

Personal history (optional) : ( Please be aware, I am writing this down for back story. YOUR CHARACTERS WONT KNOW THIS! )

Victoria had been a quiet girl. She got okay grades in school, wore all black and never really talked to anyone. It wasn't because she was born like that, it was that her drug addicted parents abused her. She had two friends through child hood, one was run over by a truck when she was eight. To say the least, Victoria had learned to cope with death early on.
Her other friend, Nemo, had run away with her at eleven. They travelled, begged for change and tried to live. They did so well enough, there were high points and low points. Victoria learned a lot, how to murder, how to hide, how to run, how to clean dishes, how to sleep, how to love, how to forget and how to save. It was rough to say the least.

At fourteen, they snuck into someones bunker as soon as they heard bombs were going to fall. They hid for about three months before the owner noticed them hiding in the corner of the rather large bunker. He raped Nemo and tried to throw them out and Victoria took a knife stabbing the man, killing him. Her and Nemo took his Radiation suits and left with a bag of canned food, water and sleeping bags.

However, Nemo's radiation suit was broken. She died a slow death of radiation poisoning and soon Victoria was on her own. She slowly went insane with no one to talk to, hiding at noises and then wandering around. She grew tall and tough. Nemo died when Victoria was nineteen, Victoria was twenty five by the time she found the metro and Belorusskaya Station. Of course Victoria had forgotten her age and name.

Someone called "it" goggles. That was how she got her name. She remained in the corners of Belorusskaya Station occasionally going out and trading with the groups that embarked to other stations. Victoria was subtly insane, and a sort of mystery. Or was it Nemo?

To her, her name is "it", "mask", or "goggles."
 
I was waiting for you! Accepted, of course!

Now, that should be enough for now. I'll be putting the IC thread today, probably.
 
Dandy. Man, this is going to suck. My stupid MP3 player died on me this morning. My charger is up in my room. Dread.
 
Name: Makar Lazarich Nastarov

Nickname (optional): Lazarus

Nationality (optional) : Russian

Station (optional) : Belorusskaya (for seven years or so)

Age: 44 years old

Gender: male

Appearance:
RussianStalkerConceptArt8.jpg

Equipment: trench knife, a gas mask, kalash. In his backpack, Makar carries bandages and everything he finds on the way or manages to buy at the stations that could help him tend the wounds.

Hey, mom, look what I can do: he was a veterinarian before the war, and now he is THE BEST MEDIC YOU CAN HAVE IN METRO. Except for, like, real medics.

Known facts: he's been kicked out of another, yet unnamed, station. For unknown reasons.

Personal history (optional) : nothing here for now.
 
Also, I accept myself (how surprising!) for the sake of being true to the whole "accepting" thingy.
 
Will you put the link up to the IC thread here as well? That way I can find it without having to look for it! ( Also B/C it will show up in alerts. )
 
Yes, of course! But I'm not certain I'll manage to do it today. If not, tomorrow it'll be here for sure.
 
Take your time, the fun and exciting RPs are more than worth the wait.
 
Agreed. Ichi, you couldn't have said it any better, little one.
 
-Waves- I'll remember you. -Ties a bandana to a stick, fills the bandana with socks and hands it to Vesper.- Bye.
 
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Thirty one days... wait, it's too dangerous to go alone, take this with you!

...

Damn it, hold on. I know it's around here somewhere.
 
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I don't want that shit. You can take that like and shove it in your gas mask.
 
Well, I guess it's back to writing fanfictions. Stay safe in the meantime, I shall wait as patiently as possible...though I can't guarantee I won't destroy something in the meantime...maybe I'll start with the annoying baseball bat my neighbor's kid keeps banging at godforsaken hours in the night.
 
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