Metronome

After the Asteroid-Closed

Sasha Belov

A young woman approached him. He felt relief that someone had noticed him, but he was afraid she may have been too late. A sharp tremor shook his body, pain tightening in his gut. He'd been sick in the days following the raid on his shelter. He'd thrown up everything his body had to offer, but the sickness was still not satisfied. He wrapped an arm around his stomach, his other hand gripping his stick tightly to keep himself on his feet.

The girl spoke to him, but he was in too much pain to respond right away. As she handed him fresh water, a mere thank you was all he could manage. Despite the pain in his stomach, he chugged about half of the bottle down thirstily. The minor relief it offered was worth the cramps he would feel because of it.

Before he could explain himself, a few guards took notice of his presence. They came over, guns up and ready. He couldn't blame them.

"Who are you?" One demanded, "What is your name and what do you want?"

The large man put his hands up, slowly lowering himself to his knees. His whole body trembled with the effort it took to stay upright.

"My name is Sasha Belov," He said, his voice slightly smoother but no less hoarse. "I came to warn you."

And then, before he could elaborate further, the man doubled over. He let out a soft groan, the water he'd guzzled hitting his empty stomach hard. He wrapped his arms around his abdomen, his massive form trembling, before he heaved and threw up a good portion of what he'd just drank.

Sasha slowly slumped onto the ground. The journey here had been too much for his sick and starved body to handle, and he'd pushed himself too far. The world around him swam until it finally went back, his brain finally forcing him to sleep.

After the Asteroid-Closed

Sasha Belov

The sun beat down on him mercilessly, turning his skin into dry leather. Cracked, bleeding, peeling. Three days ago, the sun would have felt good on his skin. He had been deprived of it for so long...but he never got the chance to enjoy it.

His boots crunched on the sandy ground beneath him. The world around him was barren. There were chunks of what was once civilization everywhere, but none of it could provide shelter for him from the unforgiving sun. He couldn't stop anyway.

For three days he had walked. His body was failing him. He was weak; his legs trembling. He managed to hold himself up with a sturdy branch he'd picked up to use as a cane. His lips were dry and cracked, flaky blood was the only color left. A canteen hung at his side, the last drops of precious water drained just hours ago. It wasn't nearly enough.

His skin was raw and exposed; his body showing signs of torture. The large man wore an old pair of army pants, flecked with blood. Some was his, some wasn't. His boots had been left on him, by some small grace. But his torso was bare. His pale flesh was cut and open in several places, what looked like small to medium burns covering his back. His eyes were both swollen, his face purple and yellow from bruising. The ends of his fingers were bloody, and thick chains hung from his wrists and ankles, the links warped from the effort it took to break them. It was clear that his injuries had been intentionally inflicted, and obviously not by himself.

The man pushed himself onward despite his body urging him to stop and rest. The occasional coughing episode would slow him down enough to hack up phlem and blood. The top everything off, the toxic air was making him sick. It slowed him down, but it didn't stop him. He couldn't stop. He had to get to the bunker, so that he could warn the survivors. He couldn't let what had happened to his people happen to them as well.

He knew he was close as he began to enter what looked like a fallen town. The buildings were in ruins, and the concrete that had once been streets and sidewalks bore large cracks and holes. He was close. The man only had to push himself a little further before the Bunker came into sight. He had made it.

People were slowly spilling out, muttling around and exploring. The large man leaned on his walking stick and weakly waved one arm.

"Hey!" He called out, trying to get someone's attention. His voice wasn't nearly as loud as he wanted it to be. It was hoarse and gravely, his tongue thick from dehydration.

After the Asteroid-Closed

I'll see how this RP goes. I don't want to overload myself :) But thanks

After the Asteroid-Closed

Sasha Belov

The Outsider

Character name: Sasha Belov

Age: 35

Height/Weight: 6'8"/ 265 Ibs

Nationality: Russian

Personality: Described as intense and driven, Sasha is not a guy you want to make an enemy of. He's intelligent, level headed, collected, and when he sees fit, unnaturally cold. With the heart of a soldier, Sasha will stop at nothing to complete a task he's set his mind on. His sheer will and determination make him a valuable ally.

He has a cool nature and a steady demeanor. His outer appearance is typically calm; it takes a lot to get him riled up.

The softer side of Sasha isn't something many people get to see. For one, he doesn't have many people to show it to, outside of his very small friend circle. Afraid of getting too close to other people, lest he be jaded, Sasha doesn't associate with others a whole lot. But when he's decided that you're his friend, a warmer, gentler giant begins to emerge. He values close bonds above all else, making his friends the most important things in his life. He doesn't have many, but those he does have, he'd protect with his life.

Skills: Your usual military training applies. He's proficient with most guns, but is particularly skilled at hand to hand combat. Has been known for one punch knock outs. He also has some experience in leadership.

Appearance: Sasha is a very large man. He stands four inches short of seven feet tall, solidly built and muscular. He has pale skin and dirty blonde hair that is kept in a neat buzz cut. His eyes are a gray-ish blue, and cold as ice. He wears mostly old military pants and shirts, in drab green and tans.

Power: Being a literal giant could be considered his power.

Abilities:
He has a definite height advantage.

He has enhanced strength, able to bench press just over one ton.

Weakness: As you can imagine, being the size of a Buick comes with certain disadvantages. He sticks out like a sore thumb among normal people, he needs about twice as many calories as everyone else, and as far as running goes, he's pretty slow. Also, bullets and knives.

Extra or Miscellaneous information Sasha speaks with a Russian accent. He speaks several European languages fluently, Russian and English being his best of course.

History: Sasha grew up in Kazan, Russia. His mother overdosed when Sasha was 5. He was left to be raised by his father, who fell into depression after the loss of his wife. His father wasn't the kindest, and often times was abusive. After Sasha's mother had died, he had essentially lost interest in being a father. He would often invite his loud and obnoxious friends over to watch soccer games, drink, and play poker while Sasha hid in his room and pretended not to exist. Sasha wanted to get out of the house as soon as he could, and joining the military seemed like the best option. However, Sasha had something of an authority issue when he was younger. His father's poor job of raising him had turned him into a rebellious punk.

After six years of service, Sasha slowly lost some of that punk kid attitude. He was eventually promoted to a second lieutenant and given his own, small platoon. They were deployed to Ukraine, where Sasha and his men were given orders that went against his own set of personal morals. When he refused to carry them out, he was threatened with everything in the book: treason, discharge, prison, the works. Instead, he just quit. Sasha and several of his men went AWOL.

What he's been doing with his life since then is anyone's guess. Rumors of him leading a rag tag group of mercenaries on worldwide exploits have gone around. But that doesn't really matter anymore, does it?

He was in the States when the asteroid hit, and was one of about a hundred people to survive within a shelter in the southeast. Recently, that shelter was infiltrated and destroyed by a wandering group of vicious looters. How he survived and got all the way out to the Bunker is yet to be discovered.

After the Asteroid-Closed

10 tons is a lot. That's almost a city bus.

What about, say, he could bench 1 ton? Which is about half a car. And that's on a good day.

After the Asteroid-Closed

He's stronger than the average person. Sure, he was strong before, but after mutating he's like, crazy strong.

Just not like Superman, picking up cars and throwing them strong.

Like...Captain America strong.

After the Asteroid-Closed

The Outsider

Character name: Sasha Belov

Age: 35

Height/Weight: 6'8"/ 265 Ibs

Nationality: Russian

Personality: Described as intense and driven, Sasha is not a guy you want to make an enemy of. He's intelligent, level headed, collected, and when he sees fit, unnaturally cold. With the heart of a soldier, Sasha will stop at nothing to complete a task he's set his mind on. His sheer will and determination make him a valuable ally.

He has a cool nature and a steady demeanor. His outer appearance is typically calm; it takes a lot to get him riled up.

The softer side of Sasha isn't something many people get to see. For one, he doesn't have many people to show it to, outside of his very small friend circle. Afraid of getting too close to other people, lest he be jaded, Sasha doesn't associate with others a whole lot. But when he's decided that you're his friend, a warmer, gentler giant begins to emerge. He values close bonds above all else, making his friends the most important things in his life. He doesn't have many, but those he does have, he'd protect with his life.

Skills: Your usual military training applies. He's proficient with most guns, but is particularly skilled at hand to hand combat. Has been known for one punch knock outs. He also has some experience in leadership.

Appearance: Sasha is a very large man. He stands five inches short of seven feet tall, solidly built and muscular. He has pale skin and dirty blonde hair that is kept in a neat buzz cut. His eyes are a gray-ish blue, and cold as ice. He wears mostly old military pants and shirts, in drab green and tans.

Power: Being a literal giant could be considered his power.

Abilities:
He has a definite height advantage.

He has enhanced strength, above the typical human cut-off.

Weakness: As you can imagine, being the size of a Buick comes with certain disadvantages. He sticks out like a sore thumb among normal people, he needs about twice as many calories as everyone else, and as far as running goes, he's pretty slow. Also, bullets and knives.

Extra or Miscellaneous information Sasha speaks with a Russian accent. He speaks several European languages fluently, Russian and English being his best of course.

History: Sasha grew up in Kazan, Russia. His mother overdosed when Sasha was 5. He was left to be raised by his father, who fell into depression after the loss of his wife. His father wasn't the kindest, and often times was abusive. After Sasha's mother had died, he had essentially lost interest in being a father. He would often invite his loud and obnoxious friends over to watch soccer games, drink, and play poker while Sasha hid in his room and pretended not to exist. Sasha wanted to get out of the house as soon as he could, and joining the military seemed like the best option. However, Sasha had something of an authority issue when he was younger. His father's poor job of raising him had turned him into a rebellious punk.

After six years of service, Sasha slowly lost some of that punk kid attitude. He was eventually promoted to a second lieutenant and given his own, small platoon. They were deployed to Ukraine, where Sasha and his men were given orders that went against his own set of personal morals. When he refused to carry them out, he was threatened with everything in the book: treason, discharge, prison, the works. Instead, he just quit. Sasha and several of his men went AWOL.

What he's been doing with his life since then is anyone's guess. Rumors of him leading a rag tag group of mercenaries on worldwide exploits have gone around. But that doesn't really matter anymore, does it?

He was in the States when the asteroid hit, and was one of about a hundred people to survive within a shelter in the southeast. Recently, that shelter was infiltrated and destroyed by a wandering group of vicious looters. How he survived and got all the way out to the Bunker is yet to be discovered.

The Good Guys

People don't really seem to be interested in this RP. I may delete it; I'm getting tired of checking on it.

Mercinary unit Rp

Guns for hire, assassins, mercenaries...When you think of morality, these typically aren't the occupations you think of. These types of men are lawless, without a nation, and full of greed. But what do you become when you want to fight for good, and your military has let you down? Where does the line between a war hero and a rogue vigilante blur?

In this RP, we will follow the lives of a group of mercenaries, founded on the idea of morality and good intentions in the field. These are people who have left their militaries and countries behind, no longer to follow the orders of greedy men who wish to conquer each other. No longer to fight for a flawed system that would order them to kill and maim innocent lives. Now, they work for themselves. They do what they think is right. They call their own shots.

They are sponsored by several anonymous individuals, and work off the words of multiple informants across the globe. Their enemy? Whoever they choose. Typically, druglords, slave runners, terrorists, and rogue militia groups with less good intentions.

The Good Guys

Bump