Natural Selection (Private Roleplay)

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Darkness. Isolation. Disease. Famine. Death. Brought on by those damn Japanese. Of course, nuclear war was inevitable between us...but if we had more time...time...We were separated before the blast but define our lines more so after it. The Redguard, The Rogues of Alfair, Magika Dollusi, and The Temple of Sayiam. These states are all that remains of the top; of home. Of course, as a human construct, war followed us as we moved further into the depths. These states seem to disagree on everything. Distribution of food, clothing, water and just about everything else. We aren't alone down here though, hiding in our corners.

Over looking each movement we make and every breath we take is our poor excuse for a government. The Order of Legiousen *spits*. They watch over each state in order to keep crime low and punished. Believe me, it's better to just mind your nose and work for your living. The punishment for crime is harsh and dangerous, but of course, OL thinks it's a just solution.

If you are caught disobeying law, you are sent to the arena. The arena is hell on earth in a nutshell. Not only do you fight other fugitives, you face the unspeakable. Mutated beings from the top. You never know what the radiation can turn a human, as normal as you and me, into. The Wizards out of Dollusi are the lucky ones. They are lucky to be alive. They were the ones that survived the initial blast; took on all that radiation and still live to tell the tale. I don't trust them between you and me. I guess I have to throw the dogs a bone though. OL doesn't just send you in with your bare hands.

They take the number of felonies you have committed and use that number to produce what they see as a fair set up. Of course, the lower the number of felonies you accumulate, the better the gear. I've been in the arena 3 times now...I'm going into my 4th. The gear is getting scarce...all i did was steal a loaf of bread to feed my mother. But, a crime is a crime, or so they say. My name is Richard Straham, and I'm one of the warriors of Alfair. If I don't come back alive, give this message to my mother. "I would go through hell 1,000,000 times to see your safety guaranteed. I'm sorry I wasn't quick enough to make it back to you. I love you. Keep well."


~Richard
 
Clementine had only been in the arena once before. When she was nine, an official caught her hovering over the corpse of another official. They knew nothing of her past offenses, nor of her future. Clem was quick and clever, and her only mistake was trusting Franco, the man who sheltered orphans in the city. The minute she attempted to steal from him, he turned her in without batting an eye. Five years later, she faces the arena again, alone, angry and older.
 
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Richard sits alone in the dark cell. 4 stone walls surrounded him and a cold floor beneath him grew colder with each passing moment. He continuously darted his eyes around the cell, scanning for weak points to take advantage of. Their were none. He let out a sigh before re positioning himself again. Arena encounter number 5. He smiled as he remembered his past attempts at survival. Of course he survived with the godly weapons they gave him. But, as he committed more felonies...the quality of weapon decreased and it became tough to survive. God knows what they would give him now. All he could do now was wait.
 
Jason stood, silent as a lamb, in the corner of his dark cell. This was his thirteenth time in the arena. It should have been more, so many crimes they didn't suspect him of. So much death followed in his wake. He was a mercenary, an assassin, a hired blade. He was paid well in coin for the spilt blood of his employers foes. His last task had been difficult, a secretary in the OL. He had done the job, but unfortunately was caught in the process. He didn't know what weapon they would give him now. All he knows was that he would survive. He always did.
 
Clementine was thrown into a dark cell, the OL locking it just as she sprung toward the bars, growling, "You'll pay for this." The OL didn't seem threatened, and chuckled as they walked away. The girl screamed in frustration and tried to shake the bars, hair flying into her eyes and her head throbbing.
 
John sighs as he looks down into the streets of the Alfair before walking past people shoving and yelling "Move!" several times and searching multiple "interests" before walking to the cross section busy "avenue" before leaning on the nearest wall.. He looks around checking again that no one has any contraband before radioing in to dispatch, "Quadrant 4-A is clear. Unit 1172 out." He looks up at the screen that is nearby watching as hey screen all the "players" in this "game". He barely sighs as he notices a citizen looking curiously looking at him he yells "Move along scum" the man frowns and shakes his grumbling before walking off.
 
His eyes darted to the young girl making a ruckus in the next cell across from him. He smiled and begin to chuckle softly as he remembered back to his first time in the arena. How he had acted similar to her. Thrashing around like a child. He spoke up in a deep, almost gravely voice. "It won't do any good, they won't acknowledge you."
 
"It can't hurt to try," she snapped back, grunting in frustration. Even so, she stopped shaking the bars and busied herself braiding and unbraiding her waves.
 
"First time?" He asked across the way. If anything, she offered conversation while he awaited his fate.
 
She laughed dryly. "Second," she said. "Should be much more, though." As an afterthought, she glanced down the hallway. Moving toward his cell, she raised an eyebrow. "You?"
 
He met her gaze, still remaining locked in the same position. "I'm on my 5th." He chuckled before looking down at the floor.
 
"What'd you do?" she asked, moving to a more relaxed position.
 
"What does anyone do in these damn town anymore." He said standing up, and putting one hand against the bars. He met her gaze again through the bars. "I was trying to survive." He said before beginning to chuckle to himself. "I was trying to protect myself."
 
She smirked. "Oh, I see. You got a girl at home? You're in here for protecting her?"
 
He thought a moment, but with a playboyish grin, he said, "Something like that...What did you do?" He said resting his head on the bars in front of him.
 
"What haven't I done?" she said with a malicious grin. "Murder, theft, you name it, I've done it."
 
"Been around the block eh?" He said flirtatiously.
 
"Something like that," she said. "I even have a favorite official."
 
"Having anything but hate for the officials is something rare," He said. "Ever kill anyone in the Arena?" He said across to her
 
She shrugged. "I don't count anymore. Especially not in the arena, and I was little."
 
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