Mattchstick

The Hunger Games but Not Really

@Duck The "Duck" CS is literally you. No need for a false biography or anything. District Number is only required because the simulator needs a District number for every entry in order to run.

Unless you actually lost your parents in the mines, in which case, my condolences.

Either way, approved. Drop them in the Characters tab.

The Hunger Games but Not Really

FROM THE ASHES, I RISE.

This RP finally has a base amount of people to start (12). However, since everyone will have two characters and one will just be themselves, I actually have room for 12 more people, depending on if the current roster wants to have two CS sheets or not.

When you first post OOC, please state whether you want to submit one CS or two. Remember that you only need to RP one of them. Your second would be your username, as explained in the interest check.

Hunger Games RP with Randomly Generated Events, just trust me on this one.

Current reserved slots:
1. @TudorRose92
2. @Hero
3. @Pseudo Stygian
4. @Ciphra
5. @Duthguy
6. @Dutchess Sarah
7. @Forgiveness
8. @IAmKnight
9. @Golem
10. @Duck
11. @Banshee
12. @PrinceAlexus

The OOC is available. Everyone check in and start working on their CS(s). RP will begin when all tribute slots are filled, or after two weeks. I have twelve people, so if anyone does not want to submit two CS sheets, let me know in the OOC.

Hunger Games RP with Randomly Generated Events, just trust me on this one.

Total people who have shown interest and have not officially stated that they're quitting:

1. @TudorRose92
2. @Hero
3. @Pseudo Stygian
4. @Ciphra
5. @Duthguy
6. @Dutchess Sarah
7. @Forgiveness
8. @IAmKnight (I'm including you anyway)
9. @Golem
10. @Duck
11. Me

Which means we need one more person, assuming everyone is willing to RP two characters, i.e. an OC and themselves. So you know, you aren't expected to RP yourself if you use yourself as a character. You will only RP characters you create. In other words, my two could be John Doe and Mattchstick. John would have a filled-out CS and I would post IC as him, while Mattchstick would have a name, gender, and District # only as a CS. Friendly reminder that you are under no real obligation to post consistently. The game will progress at a consistent pace regardless of who does or does not post. You will never be in a position where the story, or another player, is waiting for you to post.

@DoomFlavored Available?

Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED

KRISS MAUSER

LOCATION: CITY HALL

TIME: 8 PM

The party didn't appear to be showing signs of slowing down. People were still drinking and talking and laughing and drinking. It would never cease to amaze Kriss how people were so willing to exchange a few hours of chemically-induced fun for an absolutely miserable next day. He knew the side effects. Vomiting, headaches, eye pain, dizziness, and loss of focus were a guarantee for many people, with the occasional DUI mortality. He looked at the different faces in the crowd, imagining what they would look like in the back of his ambulance after a crash. And yet, he could show the photos and tell the stories to any person in this room and none of them would stop drinking. They didn't care how much they suffered, or anyone else once they were hammered, but once you wake up in a cell with a migraine and a charge of vehicular manslaughter, it's too late.

Allison was silent beside him, likely considering her options. Admittedly he did feel a little bad for her, since she was obviously not comfortable being around this type of environment, but at the same time she should have asked ahead of time. Airhead, indeed.

The silence at their table was broken by an approaching woman, sporting a noticeable robotic appendage. The sleek design caught Kriss's eye and he raised an eyebrow. It was the first time he had seen a robotic prosthesis and he had to admit it was impressive. The woman didn't seem at all ashamed of it. His interest waned at the sight of the champagne glass in her hand, which she placed gently on the table.

Hello, you alright miss? Dr, Prof Marla Olympus.

Want us to find you first aid? I'm a medical doctor back home, trauma injury specialist.

Allergy? Or just need a taxi home after a few too many? Medic should have some anti histamine. Its a pretty mild but should make the reaction more mild and less acute. Majority of cases you Don, t need to resort to the stronger stuff.

Hmm. That sounded familiar. He wondered if this was the woman who had delivered the envelope to the squad earlier. He turned his head slightly to made side eye contact with her, twisting his upper body just enough to reveal the SCVRS badge on his chest. He couldn't help but notice the redundant job title. "Medical doctor," indeed. As if there were any other type of doctor. He was fairly certain that there was no such thing as a "trauma injury specialist" (trauma prevention, maybe) as well, though there was a rather large difference between a doctor and a trauma specialist, and neither were an EMT, which is what Allison would have actually needed if this were an emergency. The woman was right, he did in fact have antihistamine on hand, but he wasn't going to administer it without being sure Allison was having an allergic reaction. He wasn't sure if she was just a doctor and was giving herself a fancy title or if she was bluffing, but either way he wouldn't want to be treated by a doctor carrying a glass of champagne.

Kriss kept his mouth shut and waited for her to leave, maintaining eye contact. If Allison was any kind of capable EMT, she could handle the situation.

---

Allison Hawthorne

Location: City Hall

Time: Sunday, 8-ish PM

The color returned slowly to her face yet again as Allison retook control of her emotions. She was starting to sweat with the heat of the room and the embarrassment and had decided that the best course of action now would be to go home as soon as possible. The later she was, the more explaining she would have to do. If she had just up and left when she arrived...but it was too late to do that. She would have to work with what she had. She was certain she could convince her mom that she hadn't had anything. Her stepdad might take a little more convincing.

The clicking of heels nearby caused her to lift her head and she found herself facing a concerned-looking woman. Allison listened carefully to the woman and shook her head quickly.

"No no, I'm okay. No allergies or..." she shuddered. "alcohol. I'm just a little...tired. I'm going to head out of here pretty soon, I need to get back home."

Something clicked in her mind as the words left her mouth. Snap had asked her to work a 12 today. If she left the party, she would have to go home, get changed, and return to the squad building until her shift was up. Ugh. That complicated things. She would have to risk an argument with her parents on life choices and responsibility, but it would be better to hear one sooner than later. She mulled it over for a minute, finally sighing and nodding her head.

"Yeah, I'm going to head home. I need to get changed so I can go back to the rescue squad for my shift. Thanks, though, and have a nice night!"

She gave the woman a low wave of the hand as she stood and collected her purse. Waving to Kriss as well, who responded with brief eye contact, she left the building, closing the door gently behind her. That was enough partying for one night for her.

--

@PrinceAlexus

Hunger Games RP with Randomly Generated Events, just trust me on this one.

@Forgiveness I think this is my first one...

@IAmKnight I'm still totally up for running it. Everything is good to go. Nothing carries over between games, so I can start it literally any time.

Hunger Games RP with Randomly Generated Events, just trust me on this one.

@Dutchess Sarah I've had an OOC open since the day I made this. Not enough people to post.

Xcom RP; are the masses interested?

I've always wanted to try RPing an XCOM soldier and now I finally have the chance.

Sol City [Modern Slice of Life] . (CHAPTER ONE COMPLETED!) . ARCHIVED

Allison Hawthorne

Location: City Hall

Time: Sunday, 7:30-ish PM

Dumping the plate and fork into a large trash can, Allison took another sip of the soft drink and worked her way across the room with Kriss in tow. He looked like a grumpy dog whose collar was one notch too tight. The knuckles on the hand holding the trauma bag had gone white. A voice reminded him that he was representing the SCVRS, which prompted him to stand up just a little straighter and loosen the muscles in his forehead, changing his face from a grimace to a blank slate.

The duo arrive shortly and were greeted by the blonde woman, who had ordered food from a shirtless waiter.

Hey, feel free. We not short are we Vika. Sorry about nearly walking into you!

I'm Marinalia Olympus, and this my sister Victoria, Ivans by thr bar.

Allison gave the lady a polite smile, which withered away quickly. The smell of fruit and alcohol on her breath was overwhelming. Worse that than, though, was the old familiar scent of her dad's favorite drink. It wasn't as prominent (she was probably rubbing shoulders with the drinker), but it was far more powerful. She gritted her teeth hard as she forced the smile back onto her face, though her free hand moved involuntarily to her stomach, which was beginning to constrict. Her face turned slightly red as she tried to find a way to inhale clean oxygen. She knew she only had a few seconds to pass off her behavior without being rude. Thinking quickly, she raised her glass to her lips, covered her nose with it, and took a good clean breath of soda-infused air before lowering it to her side again.

"Don't worry about it, I'm totally fine. Allison Hawthorne, at your service," she said with a slight bow of the head. The woman seemed to pay her reaction no mind and instead tapped Kriss on the shoulder.

"Hi, welcome to the Gala."

Kriss shriveled away from the touch. He did not like being touched. People are perfectly capable of communicating without poking one another with fingers. He let his German stubbornness take over and responded with a blank stare. Fortunately for the two of them, Marinalia soon excused herself to "fix a few things." Allison breathed a literal sigh of relief as the woman, and the cloud of alcohol surrounding her, turned and left. She looked over at Kriss, who gave her the same blank stare, and tried to think of something to say. It didn't matter. Kriss could already sense that she had regretted this decision and he latched onto it, amping up the guilt with a look of irritation. She turned back to see if Ashton was still present. The tall woman had already noticed them and was currently waving at them, as though she would have had any difficulty seeing her. Allison straightened up and lifted her chin. She wasn't going to let Kriss shut her down. Not this time. Chipping a smile back onto her face, she trotted carefully to the firefighter and her companions, one of whom looked particularly familiar.

"Hey... Someone get hurt you two? No injuries over here... Ones you can Fix anyway."

Allison hadn't realized Kriss was still carrying the medical bag. She glanced at him inquisitively and was met with the exact same indignant expression, causing her to turn back to the bar. Before she could respond to confirm that they were not here to patch someone up, Victoria spoke again.

"Who's your freind Alison? You take him dress shopping before this? Bars open if you want somthing stronger."

Her face turned a much more fierce shade of red than usual, and she stopped dead in her tracks as the comment hit her like a freight train. She was only 19. Her blood boiled silently at the suggestion, and she again found herself in a position where she had only seconds to reply before seeming rude.

"U...um..." she stammered. The fresh scent of alcohol from the bar washed over her, clouding her mind further. She chided herself strongly in her mind. Victoria didn't know she was 19. She was just being polite. She wouldn't have offered if she knew, right? Allison tried to calm herself and take a deep breath, realizing at the last moment that she would just be inhaling more alcohol. She would have to try using the glass again, but she already felt ridiculous from doing it once. She placed a hand on the bar to steady herself, then removed it, alarmed that she might be unintentionally signalling for a drink. She glanced at Ashton, hoping to find some kind of aid, but she appeared to be paying attention to Victoria now.

Despite his lack of expression, Kriss was actively reading the situation and he soon realized Allison was in serious trouble. She seemed to have stopped breathing. He considered letting her stew out of petty revenge, but he noted that, even with an open invitation, she still didn't want a hard drink. It dawned on him that if he answered Victoria's question and ended the conversation, Allison would never be allowed to make him interact with people at a party again. She would owe him. He stepped up beside Allison and looked Victoria dead in the eyes.

"I am Kriss. I shop for clothes on my own. Allison is not old enough to drink."

He paused as he noticed the beverage on the table in front of the woman. He scowled and dropped a final thought on her in a voice dripping with bitter sarcasm.

"Alcohol poisoning kills six people every day. I hope I do not have to come back to pick you up."

Without waiting for a response, he turned sharply towards the door and plodded away. Too shocked by the comment to speak, Allison followed him silently, walking backwards at first, then bumping into a chair, apologizing to no one, and slipping away. Too many thoughts were going through her head all at once and she was beginning to legitimately feel sick. They stopped at their table, where Allison collapsed into her chair and took a deep breath of cleaner air, coughing several times and holding her chest. Kriss watched her, mildly concerned that she might need medical attention, but it passed quickly. She set the glass carefully on the table as her face returned to a more natural color.

"I'm..." she said, her voice fading out as she stared at her glass. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dragged you over there."

"No, you should not have," he replied in a more neutral voice than before. She winced.

"I guess we should leave, huh?"

"Snap told me to keep an eye on things, so I will stay here." He looked at her disinterestedly. "You can leave if you want."

"Yeah, I..." she looked around again. "I shouldn't be here. My stepdad's gonna be so mad if he finds out I was at a gig with booze. I hope it doesn't stick to my clothes like it stuck to Mariana or whatever her name was."

"Marinalia."

"Yeah, that. Ugh, I'm such an idiot. I should have known." She rested her elbows on the table and sunk her head into her palms as her face turned red again. Her mom had a nose for alcohol too and would smell it before she got through the door. Frankly, she probably wouldn't live long enough for her stepdad to kill her.

--

@PrinceAlexus@Silver Fox

Project Crossover [Video Game Crossover RP]

Ruben Verislav
Level: 2 [1/20]
Day/Time: Day Three - Evening
Location: Forest of Skyrim
Tag: @Holy Soldier@Lugubrious@Zarkun@DracoLunaris
Word Count: 565

He hadn't really been expecting a favorable response for his comments, so the Boss's reaction was so surprising that Ruben found himself unable to respond. Apparently speaking his mind was not only permitted but encouraged here. It was all a bit foreign, but then again this was not an XCOM unit. Everyone here was an independent individual from their own land. Back there, things must be different. Hopefully they were not also engaged in a global war against an invading alien force that threatened to destroy humanity. Even if one of the members wasn't human.

This would also mark the first time he was offered a high-five by a figure of authority, but with all the strangeness so far it almost seemed appropriate, though he wouldn't consider his observations to merit such a response. Wordlessly, he raised his hand and returned the five, returning it immediately to his weapon. He suddenly remember the laser rifle on his back and wondered for the first time how he would deliver it to Dr. Vahlen. He doubted the main hub had a radio system that could travel through universes, but who knew? He arrived here by portal. Maybe another could be opened, assuming there was enough down time between operations.

The Boss went ahead and clarified, again, that they would not be investigating the secondary objective. Under his command, at least. He braced himself for the obligatory circle of feedback from the other three, none of whom seemed happy about the decision the boss had already made.

Azura was more tame in her response than he had anticipated, though he sensed the jab at his role in the party. Though he maintained a stoic appearance, internally he shrugged it off. He had questioned her and she had questioned him. Fair enough. It certainly wasn't worth getting into a spat over. Vent was a bit more aggressive, reminding everyone (again) that they knew nothing about the Greybeards. One would think by now that this was a good reason to avoid them entirely, but he took the opposite stance, which was based entirely on...fantasy novels? Was he serious? His entire line of thinking for sending someone away was based on fantasy literature. Whatever world he was from, it was rather lax on what qualified as a good reason.

A large portion of his retort was in regard to the Boss for incorrectly calling him a robot. As a result, Ruben made a mental note to avoid doing so. Direct insults that wouldn't lead to any kind of improvement were pointless. Azura's inability to prove assistance could be changed. The boy's humanness could not. Unfortunately, Vent did not have the same mindset. Sad and pathetic? To follow orders as a soldier is to just do your job, even if the orders get you into what you may consider a bad situation. Piper followed suit with a word of warning, one that he had not heard before. It was a bit sharp, but she seemed to mean well, almost as if it was from experience. He didn't hold it against her and, when the time came for him to speak again, he ultimately chose to refrain from responding to any of them.

Vent and Piper excused themselves and Ruben wondered if he should follow. Rather than making a snap decision, though, he turned his head to the Boss and waited for instructions.