IC and OOC: http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/15905/posts/ooc
Imagine it, if you will: A vast city skyline of former glory, concrete and glass skyscrapers looming over old brick high rise buildings that now crumble. Windows where once-happy faces peered out from the old buildings are now cracked, shattered, or missing altogether. The buildings grovel at the feet of the pristine skyscrapers like peasants, half of them toppled completely to the ground with even their cornerstones strewn about the streets.
Massive patriotic flags fly high above in the sun like bandages poorly covering a festering wound. Several times a day police helicopters hover and leave behind squads of stiff-backed, armor-clad, jack-booted “peace officers”.
In the slums hidden from media acknowledgement and out of public mind, the bottom class citizens whose shoulders the mega corporations prop their feet upon huddle around flaming trash cans to stay warm. The majority of them scrape by merely by robbing one another. The poor steal from the poor, and the fat cats laugh.
Until someone puts a gun barrel in their mouth.
-
Alec Whitaker sat uncomfortably in the rickety folding chair provided for hospital visitors. Eyes red and hair disheveled from running his fingers through it desperately, he felt his stomach curdle as he watched his big brother racked in pain. The doctors had told him over and over again how if they had simply caught it earlier, they could have done something to save him. When told that he was refused medical treatment for lack of insurance and lack of cash, the doctor merely changed the subject, giving Trent six months “in the best case”. Alec knew that was more like three without being able to stay in the hospital and receive care.
Trent had practically raised Alec after their mother had left when they were seventeen and twelve, respectively. Trent was always so strong, in every sense of the word. He was built like the father Alec barely remembered, muscular and broad shouldered. And yet now here he was, getting closer to thirty, with his twenty-two year old brother capable of picking him up; Having to, when he couldn’t stop shitting himself.
It was enough to drive a man to do something. Something only an unstable, irresponsible psychopath would be capable of. But Alec was none of those things. He was only broken, in premature mourning, and very, very angry.
That would have to do.
-
A very short intro to set the mood of this RP. This RP is a reimagination of a moderately successful RP (that I made) from another site. If anyone from said site sees this, by all means feel free to speak up and let me know, especially if you’re interested in joining.
Without further delay, the plot:
It’s 2020, in the United Provinces of Aleghany, a fictional corrupt country in a world with several similarities to our own. The country has become a police state with a massive gap between the upper and lower classes.
The RP will revolve around a small group of the downtrodden members of Aleghany’s underbelly. Whether they’re already criminals, or simply fed up working folks, there’s massive amounts of cash to be made, and plenty of the guilty to be punished.
If you love movies like Heat, Reservoir Dogs, Point Break, Savages, and the Oceans series, you’ll enjoy this RP. It will revolve mostly around the heists and the characters as they develop into a team of vigilante bank robbers/art thieves/professional criminals/etc.
There will be planning and preparation phases, 13 classes/roles (Enforcer, Wingman, Shotcaller, Mule, Tech, Medic, Cat, Sharpshooter, Frog, Wheel, Fly, Juggernaut, and Psychopath), as well as rival criminals all to keep things interesting.
Who was it that said “steal from the rich and give to the poor”?
Please post if interested. Any comments/questions are appreciated.
Imagine it, if you will: A vast city skyline of former glory, concrete and glass skyscrapers looming over old brick high rise buildings that now crumble. Windows where once-happy faces peered out from the old buildings are now cracked, shattered, or missing altogether. The buildings grovel at the feet of the pristine skyscrapers like peasants, half of them toppled completely to the ground with even their cornerstones strewn about the streets.
Massive patriotic flags fly high above in the sun like bandages poorly covering a festering wound. Several times a day police helicopters hover and leave behind squads of stiff-backed, armor-clad, jack-booted “peace officers”.
In the slums hidden from media acknowledgement and out of public mind, the bottom class citizens whose shoulders the mega corporations prop their feet upon huddle around flaming trash cans to stay warm. The majority of them scrape by merely by robbing one another. The poor steal from the poor, and the fat cats laugh.
Until someone puts a gun barrel in their mouth.
-
Alec Whitaker sat uncomfortably in the rickety folding chair provided for hospital visitors. Eyes red and hair disheveled from running his fingers through it desperately, he felt his stomach curdle as he watched his big brother racked in pain. The doctors had told him over and over again how if they had simply caught it earlier, they could have done something to save him. When told that he was refused medical treatment for lack of insurance and lack of cash, the doctor merely changed the subject, giving Trent six months “in the best case”. Alec knew that was more like three without being able to stay in the hospital and receive care.
Trent had practically raised Alec after their mother had left when they were seventeen and twelve, respectively. Trent was always so strong, in every sense of the word. He was built like the father Alec barely remembered, muscular and broad shouldered. And yet now here he was, getting closer to thirty, with his twenty-two year old brother capable of picking him up; Having to, when he couldn’t stop shitting himself.
It was enough to drive a man to do something. Something only an unstable, irresponsible psychopath would be capable of. But Alec was none of those things. He was only broken, in premature mourning, and very, very angry.
That would have to do.
-
A very short intro to set the mood of this RP. This RP is a reimagination of a moderately successful RP (that I made) from another site. If anyone from said site sees this, by all means feel free to speak up and let me know, especially if you’re interested in joining.
Without further delay, the plot:
It’s 2020, in the United Provinces of Aleghany, a fictional corrupt country in a world with several similarities to our own. The country has become a police state with a massive gap between the upper and lower classes.
The RP will revolve around a small group of the downtrodden members of Aleghany’s underbelly. Whether they’re already criminals, or simply fed up working folks, there’s massive amounts of cash to be made, and plenty of the guilty to be punished.
If you love movies like Heat, Reservoir Dogs, Point Break, Savages, and the Oceans series, you’ll enjoy this RP. It will revolve mostly around the heists and the characters as they develop into a team of vigilante bank robbers/art thieves/professional criminals/etc.
There will be planning and preparation phases, 13 classes/roles (Enforcer, Wingman, Shotcaller, Mule, Tech, Medic, Cat, Sharpshooter, Frog, Wheel, Fly, Juggernaut, and Psychopath), as well as rival criminals all to keep things interesting.
Who was it that said “steal from the rich and give to the poor”?
Please post if interested. Any comments/questions are appreciated.
