The Siberian Sickle OOC (Open)

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Firecracker, Dec 30, 2014.

  1. The Siberian Sickle/ Sign-Up and OOC
    A post-apocalyptic, military infused zombie roleplay

    To those of you that were caught on the interest check, I have posted the full OP, changed and added plenty of stuff. If you're new, be sure to read it!

    How we got here (open)

    Humble Beginnings (open)

    It started with the Great Siberian Suffocation in 2045. A traveling technology salesman traveled to a remote village in Siberia to sell his wares, to find that a majority of the village’s population had died very suddenly. The remainder of the villagers were stuffed deep inside their homes, too traumatized to even step near the windows. They screamed and cried of a great evil that had overtaken the village, and made people suddenly drop one by one. Their breathing would stop very suddenly, for seemingly no reason, and they suffocated to death. Terrified with the circumstances, the superstitious Salesman fled from the village, bursting into a church during it’s mass the next day, reporting of the evil that had befallen the next village down the road. The flock of the church all prayed vigorously, and pled that God protect them should the evil move from its current dwelling and attack them.

    Sadly, even God wasn't even able to save them when the evil came. First, it was a new visitor of town that had suddenly collapsed, suffocating as he sat at the bar. Those who didn’t flee the village in the next day, all hid in their houses, pleading and pleading that they be protected from what they thought was the Wrath of God. They had been good Christians, and Rapture seemed to be among them. They all went on to suffocate in their small homes.

    [BCOLOR=transparent]The word of this Rapture quickly dispersed amongst remote villages, soon making it to the major cities of eastern Russia. Doctors and scientists of all kinds flocked to these remote villages to study the dead and living, while religious leaders warn against contact with it at all cost, calling it the beginning of the End, The Rapture.[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Soon, reports come back that the villages were found to be completely dead, with the scientists and doctor’s dying quickly of the same fate, or suffering the complete loss of use of limbs. Russian Officials quarantined a large area of Siberian country that included the two aforementioned villages, announcing they were conducting an ‘official investigation’ of the deaths. [/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Things went without issue for a bit, until one day it was reported that something had suddenly killed off a large fraction of the workers centered around “Ground Zero” as some had come to call it. Before communications fell completely with Ground Zero workers, it was reported that most had died of suffocation, while others had loss use of many limbs, or died of other unknown complications.[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Uncontained and unfightable, The Rapture quickly spread along Siberia, stalling once it got to the Urals. All it needed was one vector, a fleeing villager. He carried the Rapture with him to Eastern Russia, where it spread like wild fire. Some suffocated, some died of complications, and a large number of them arose again after death, the very primal parts of their brain again in use by some unknown evil.[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]It didn’t take long to realize the evil had gone airborne, quickly spreading to other European Countries. Some were lucky enough to prepare with gasmasks and weapons, but it quickly overtook Europe, and then the world. [/BCOLOR]


    The Virus (open)

    It is now 2047, a mere 2 years after the initial outbreak of what has now been called the Siberian Sickle, or The Rapture as some still call it. As advancements have come in fighting and studying the disease, it has been found that the virus attacks nerve tissue in the brain. From what can be gathered from its beginning, the initial strains of the virus hit their intended target of disabling the area of a person’s brain that allowed them to use their diaphragm and the brain’s regulation of it, meaning the host could no longer breathe and, therefore, died. As more and more people were infected, the virus mutated and evolved, first evolving to not only attack the breathing part of the brain, but the parts of the brain that allowed use of extremities, or parts that allowed the brain to regulate the operation of organ’s such as the liver, which led to blood poisoning and other complications.

    [BCOLOR=transparent]The final, and perhaps most frightening current mutation was that of reanimation. Once the body was brain dead, not always fully dead, the virus could commandeer the control of nerve tissues, making dead bodies spasm and the likes, and then would soon reanimate the entire host, destroying memories and most instincts other than to attack and survive. The virus thrives simply to spread and infect, it appears.[/BCOLOR]

    Reanimates can be of any shape and condition. Since many, many cases of the virus involved attacking many different parts of the brain, many reanimates suffer from loss of any number of functions, such as seeing, hearing, use of the jaw, or even loss of both legs. Every case is different, leading to any large numbers of different and varied reanimates with different enhancements or disabilities.

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Reanimates can be very easy or very difficult to combat, contact with them is almost never the same experience twice. They tend to travel in packs of no more than 8 at a time. The types of reanimates that form these packs vary almost exclusively on how fast they can move. Slow movers stick with slow movers, fast movers with fast and so on. They are extremely aggressive, and will use any function they still retain to try and infect as many of humans they can, until they can no longer operate. While headshots are usually the go-to to disable reanimates, they are not always necessary, as disabling operation of any and all limbs that enable movement will cause the subject to 'give up' in a sense, as in the virus will shut down and begin trying to regenerate limbs. While the virus is not yet, and may never be advanced and strong enough to regrow entire limbs, this will enable a large number of reanimates to be immobilized, to be executed at a later time with little danger.[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]It is unknown if those killed by the earlier strains of the disease can be reinfected by the new strains and reanimated. If so, it would mean the possibility of a large surge reanimates in perfect condition to combat current survivors and regulated government forces.[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Machines have been developed to manually breathe for subjects that have been attacked by the Serbian Sickle, but they cannot protect against further attack of brain use, should the virus decide to keep attacking once the function of the diaphragm has been disabled.[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]The virus is also airborne, meaning that only cities with ArtAmos, or Artificial Atmospheres, have survived the disease. Major cities have remained, or new ones formed, around ArtAmos, with few being let out, and next to none being let in, as to risk the entry of the virus, which has happened to irresponsible ArtAmos in the past. [/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]In most cases, it has been shown that the virus cannot survive in water and most foods, as it thrives in mostly muscle tissue, but with it's quick mutations, it is feared that it's need to multiply and live in mammalian bodies could possibly be evolved past. That being said, some weakened and dormant forms of the virus have survived in water, but they need only to be boiled out. Active, live samples almost exclusively thrive in raw meat, and cannot be cooked out, leading to major culling and burning of cattle. People have turned to diets that consist of mainly vegetables, and what small amount of canned food, especially canned meat, is left. Canned foods and bottled water have, quite unsurprisingly, become extremely valuable, with many canning facilities being repaired, attempts being made to bring them back to working order in order to make more food less susceptible to infection.[/BCOLOR]

    Artificial Atmosphere Zones (open)

    ArtAmos was a technology in prototype stage for future colonization of uninhabited planets, but it was either quickly put into use to protect against disease spread. Some were rushed to immediate use, with some failures, others waited a bit before the technology was refined to set up, in turn resulting in more deaths and less populated regions, a very controversial decision. Depending on the energy and resources available, ArtAmos can be in various sizes, holding more or less people. Whatever size they are, they are all very crowded.

    Life in the ArtAmos is very varied. Since there is no longer one government to rule over the entire country, most ArtAmos are governed by their own internal officials, whether they be elected, totalitarian, aristocratic, or even in a few rare cases, oligarchies and monarchies. No matter what time for of government, however, they are all very fragile and sometimes tense and protested, and subject to internal conflict and scandal.

    In most cases, regardless of government, the rich of the zones have the most access to things like clean food and water, and luxuries such clean bedding and furniture. Running water and electricity is available to all residents, however. The poorer, less fortunate residents of the zones live closer to the edges of the zone, compared to the rich and powerful who live generally towards the center, or where ever the taller, more secure buildings are. The poor ones on the outer regions of zones are more subject to assault to the few bandits that still manage to survive outside of these zones, but even they aren't the largest threat. The largest, and most constant threat is the reanimates, who rule any zone outside of ArtAmos. They constantly attack and risk the health of ArtAmos, which is why it is so miraculous that the number of those that are surviving, have. Although, it is very possible that they could collapse at any point, very quickly and without much warning.

    In most ArtAmos, the majority, or even the entirety of the land is urban cityscape, leading to obvious issues with maintaining a constant flow of food and potable water to the populous. Since infection of the water isn't as large of a problem as expected, water constraints can be a bit more rare than food constraints are. Next to no meat can be brought into the ArtAmos, since it is just about all infected with the Sickle virus, and not much agriculture can be done in those zones that are all urban areas. Some zones have demolished buildings and torn up paving and such to make room for agriculture, but this process can be long, dangerous, and even sometimes complete wastes of time since the land under these structures turns out to be near unusable. There are plans to establish an agriculture devoted ArtAmos, but it is unsure if it can even be done as it is unknown if the virus can survive in soil, or if the necessary amount of clean water can be be acquired to take on such a task. Connections between separate ArtAmos must also established for trade and shipments, another task that seems difficult to undertake.

    American ArtAmos Locations
    Los Angeles, California
    Las Vegas, Nevada
    San Diego, California
    Salt Lake City, Utah
    Portland, Oregon
    Tucson, Arizona
    Austin, Texas
    Fort Worth, Texas
    Chicago, Illinois
    St. Paul, Minnesota
    Washington D.C
    Miami, Florida
    New York City, New York
    Boston, Massachusetts

    Known Foreign ArtAmos
    Beijing, China
    Paris, France
    Mexico City, Mexico
    Moscow, Russia
    Berlin, Germany
    Jerusalem, Israel
    Tokyo, Japan
    Others are thought to exist, but have not yet been made contact with.

    [BCOLOR=transparent]You are now part of the CDC’s Disease Containment Squadron. You each wake up in the same room, restrained to a chair, free only to look around and observe the others. Some you recognize, some you don’t. You all have one thing in common: you all USED to be soldiers. You are no longer soldiers of a large government. You are the special military force of the Center for Disease Control, under control of solely the CDC and none other. A man, along with a few scientists, enters the grey, well lit room, in a white military-type outfit, except instead of being marked with ranks, he only wears the insignias of the CDC, some buttons containing the eagle and people, some the circular logo. He looks like he’s not much older than any of you in the room, but you can tell by his presence that he wields a fair amount of power. As he stands at attention before the room, some of the scientists begin to place papers in each of the soldier’s laps. It reads:[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]On this sheet, please enter in the necessary information, and turn into your local commanding officer when completed. Thank you, and welcome to the American Center for Disease Control and Prevention.[/BCOLOR]​
    [BCOLOR=transparent]Description of appearence: [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent](Picture please, and words are welcome.)[/BCOLOR]
    [BCOLOR=transparent]Former Military:[/BCOLOR]
    [BCOLOR=transparent]Preferred Callsign:[/BCOLOR]
    [BCOLOR=transparent]Brief History: [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent](Bio)[/BCOLOR]
    [BCOLOR=transparent]Other Info: [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent](Stuff you think is important that I missed)[/BCOLOR]
    [BCOLOR=transparent](Multiple Characters are okay)[/BCOLOR]
    [BCOLOR=transparent]“Welcome to the hidden chapter of the CDC that the world doesn’t know about yet. Under my command, we will be more deadly, more intelligent, more powerful than any other military out. You men and women have been chosen to follow my command. I am Master Sergeant X. and you will address me as such each and every time you speak to me. You will not ask what my real name is. You will not ask me how you got here. You will not ask me to leave. For the good of America and Humanity itself, you have been special chosen for your assorted skills and accolades. Do not worry of your past families or friends. They don’t not worry for you, as you should not worry for them. All will be fine, so long as you follow orders and stay alive, which I will do everything under my power to help you do. Again, welcome to what will be your finest hour of your life.”[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Welcome to the rest of your life, grunts. [/BCOLOR]

    If you have any suggestions or additions and ideas for the roleplay itself, just private message me about it and I'll see what we can do about it! Thanks to those of you who read it, and thanks for those of you that apply. More information is to come!
    #1 Firecracker, Dec 30, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Dec 31, 2014
  2. Just for reference, here is the standard armor set for a soldier, which you can tweak and decorate however you want in your appearance section, just nothing obviously over the top or that would compromise the respirator.
    CDC Standard Issue Combat and Disease Protection Gear (open)


    Enlisted Personnel
    Desmond Prescott (open)

    Name: Desmond Prescott

    Role: Leader of Squardron

    Age: 30

    Weight: 170

    Height: 5'11

    Description of appearence:[​IMG]
    His armor is mostly black with shark mouths on each side of his helmet. There are single red stripes going down the outsides of his arms and legs. Otherwise, his plate carrier, pouches and things of that nature are all black.

    Former Military: United States Marine Corp.

    Preferred Callsign: Widow

    Brief History: Desmond was born on base in Fort Worth to a marine and a nurse. You could say he was meant to be a soldier from birth, but he'd tell you that you're full of shit. He'd say that war and combat were both bullshit, and that literature and education were the key to advancing human intelligence and harmony among them. He's tell you that the military was was merely a pawn for political use and expendable in the eyes of the government. He'd tell you he was destined to become a classic poet or world renowned author and philanthropist, anything but a soldier.

    After moving from base to base, country to country, Desmond's desire to be a writer dwindled. He saw how insecure the job was, the uncertainty of success. The only thing he knew for sure was base procedure and what ever he father taught him about military life. As he aged, making it ever so closer to being free of a school centered life and being an adult, the military seemed more and more as the most plausible path of life for him. He hadn't completely lost his desire to write, but he saw it simply as a hobby, or maybe something to pick up after a nice bit of service.

    So, he joined the Marines. He still hated war and combat. He still thought that the government had no regard for his life. He still believed only literature and education and acceptance were the keys to peaceful life. Luckily, nothing he did in the military conflicted with his beliefs, as there hadn't been a war for years by the time he finally enlisted. He followed almost exactly in his father's footsteps of being moved base to base, except he had no wife or kids to look after, only himself. Never having a permanent home really didn't leave room for friends after all. At least, not ones in real life.

    It wasn't until he was about 28 that Desmond was introduced to any sort of real danger, and little did he know that it would be the end of the world as he knew it. He was one of few soldiers that managed to survived the initial outbreak, and was soon a lone wolf, barely scratching out a living in a destroyed America. In a chance meeting, he encountered the CDC, which seemed to still be doing well post-apocalypse. And by 'encountered', he actually woke up in their facility in the Washington D.C ArtAmos zone, after nearly being killed. By what, he couldn't remember. More and more soldiers mysteriously appeared in the facility, by means that Desmond did not know. All he knew is that he was to be in charge of these former soldiers.

    Other Info: TBR in the RP.

    #2 Firecracker, Dec 30, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Dec 31, 2014
  3. [BCOLOR=transparent]Name:[/BCOLOR] Wilhelm Dare

    Age: 28

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Weight: [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]189 lbs[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Height: [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]5'9"[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Description of appearance: 120725-M-XZ164-053n.jpg [/BCOLOR]
    [BCOLOR=transparent] The only changes to uniform Wilhelm made, was adding a camo pattern, like in his marines uniform. His helmet was also adorned with a double d in red, similar to the symbol in the DareDevil film.[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Former Military: [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]Marine Corps[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Preferred Call-sign:[/BCOLOR] Daredevil

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Brief History: [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]The son of a military man, named Daniel, who died in combat, Wilhelm [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]was raised by his mother. Bedtime stories frequently consisted of war ones, specifically of fighter pilots in gleaming metal birds, racing through the air and shooting down others[/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]. His father was usually the hero in these stories, which was why the boy, from as early as he can remember, wanted to join the military. He played with toy soldiers and built some model planes. He read non-fiction books, or at first just looked at the pictures. It was his dream.[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent] In school Wilhelm[/BCOLOR] achieved average grades, but excelled in sports. He had a natural aptitude for athleticism and took part where and when he could. His favorite sport was rugby, a sport that trained endurance and strength. The rest of his spare time was taken up by hobbies like target shooting and on some occasions paintball matches with friends. Having graduated, Wilhelm immediately signed up to the military. His mother certainly had her reservations, but allowed it nonetheless. Unfortunately his dream of following in his father's footsteps was cut short by genetics. Eyes that couldn't see every color was useless.

    Wilhelm wouldn't be disheartened. Next he applied to the Marine Corps. Training was brutal, but he succeeded. He was drafted and sent off to base. There he made lasting companions and in the following years was sent to various other bases. He and the squad he was a part of made themselves quite unmissable. It wasn't long before he was promoted. Even though it wasn't his initial dream it was all he hoped it would be. Life was hard, life was fun, life was fulfilling.

    One morning new orders came to Sergeant Dare and his men. It was a while after the initial outbreak. Word had already spread about the bizarre deaths occurring. Rumors about it perhaps being biological warfare was in the roundabout. Now, after the deaths of a large amount of workers, men were being sent in to investigate. Armed with gas-masks they and other squads made their way to the area known as Ground Zero. Unfortunately the men were wholly unprepared for what happened there. For a while things mostly consisted of guarding doctors and scientists and stacking corpses.

    Distorted communications from one of the other places soon spoke of strange occurrences with the corpses. It didn't take long until the same happened with them. A body being examined jumped up and took a gaping bite out of a doctor, this spread faster than gossip in a salon. It caught everyone off-guard. Some men died, but Dare and the rest were able to bunker down. They rationed what supplies they had and shot what they could. In the end only a handful made it out. They were left abandoned, unsure of where to go or what to do now that government had fallen and chaos ensued. For a while they all stayed together, trying to trek back to a base of operations. Things were no better there. Destruction lay before. They looted what they could, followed from crackling radio messages.

    Finally they found a safe house. Ingenious inventions where gas-masks were unnecessary. These places were sorely lacking on various fronts. Men of military background had it engrained to help others though. They recruited more men willing to help and formed a guard. An impromptu leader of sorts, Wilhelm and the others stood as a sign of stability for the broken people that were left.

    Wilhelm was just coming off his shift when things went dark. He imagined seeing some humanoid shapes surrounding him, lifting his limbs, but he could do nothing to stop them. Next he knew he awoke in a room with others. He recognized the odd face here and there. A stranger stood before them. His clothing and insignias proving him to be part of an organization Wilhelm only heard rumors of.

    [BCOLOR=transparent]Other Info: [/BCOLOR][BCOLOR=transparent]Nothing yet, but is subject to change.[/BCOLOR]

    [BCOLOR=transparent][For your consideration][/BCOLOR]
    #5 Cahill, Jan 9, 2015
    Last edited: Jan 11, 2015
  4. Hey, thanks for actually applying! I thought this was a dead thread already, didn't expect this! Maybe more people will apply. Now, down to business. Now, your app looks fine for the most a part, aside from two small problems. First, I simply would like a more expanded or fleshed out bio, and another thing with the bio. Its a bit of a continuity error, the virus wasn't reanimating anyone when it first broke out, it wasn't until the world, well, 'collapsed' that it began reanimating, thus raising the need for the CDC Teams. Maybe, instead of fighting on the forefront, Wilhelm can be trying to save people, and himself see friends and civilians die, things of that nature. Just suggestions. Fix these two little things up and I'll accept ya! :)
  5. Edited up a bit. If it's still a problem, you know what to do.
  6. Accepted!