Evie felt something was wrong, even before she opened her eyes. She could hear the alarms, the shouting, the popping of guns. She was scared, and her first gut feeling was to hide under the bed and close her eyes and never come out. Eve slowly sat up, and took away the thin blanket covering her body. She ripped off the tape holding some thin tubes in place in her arm and wrist. She yanked out those, and held the blanket over the wounds. Eve got up, and looked out the room. Empty. She ran, not knowing where to go. Anywhere but away from the noise. She ran down stairs, and exited the hospital. Not a single sound she made.
She knew she was still in Beijing. It was obvious. She even knew where she was at. She passed this place everyday from getting limes and papaya from the kiosk down a ways. She couldn't go back to Uncle's. Eve had a sneaking suspicion he was up to something. She finally was aware of her clothing, or lack of. She was in a flimsy gown, tied in the back. Evie knew where a clothing store was, a small distance from this building she once thought was a law firm.
Evie walked briskly, and without looking at others. She finally made it, and she noticed it was different. It used to be comfortable, Ms. Yin behind the counter, chatting gossip to her friend on the phone. Ms. Yin was nervous now, and stared confusingly at Eve. Eve took a floral outifit off the closest rack, and dressed in a room. She chose to dress in the rooms with the curtains, and not the door, so as to make a quick escape. Evie dressed, and yanked off the tags. She noticed a girl about her age scurry into a nearby dressing room, one with a door. She searched, but the girl had already shut the door...
Good starters from everyone so far. Just as a rule of thumb:
As a general note before we start
~Please be literate. No one liner posts. At least a paragraph or two. At least. Please and thank you.
~Please limit your posting to once or twice a day since there are so many of us in the roleplay. I may post a sidenote to continue the storyline, but I will try to abide by this rule as well.
~Please be considerate. Any disagreements should be taken out in PM. When attacking another roleplayer the rule is: Player A throws the attack. Player B states the outcome. And then the roles are reversed.
~Please don't randomly kill off other players, gorey sex scenes, etc...
~If you wish to drop out at any time feel free, but please let the group know...
here is my old CS
name- Michael "mike" frost
Patient #- 121
appearance - 6'0, about 165, skinny, but with muscles. He has short to medium brown hair with brown eyes. He is tan. He wears blue torn jeans, has a white undershirt under a black hoodie. He wears black converse shoes to. Has a scar under his right eye.
power/ability- jumper level 2 still developing.
weapon of choice- a pocket knife he kept with him.
personality- he isn't the smartest, but has street smarts. He is very resourceful. He is also charming, but is sometimes to trusting. He also makes very stupid decisions sometime, just spontaneous sometimes.
history/bio- Mike was able to use his powers pretty well before he was captured. He used them for personal gain, he knew i he couldnt be caught what was the point of obeying rules. He was captured by "the division" one day. They barely caught him, at least he gave them a chase. When he awoke he was in a bed with a sharp pain in his veins, and doctors all around. He tried to jump but he couldn't focus enough to get anywhere, and he passed out again. He woke up in a bed this time in a room all alone. He wanted to jump, but where to, he had no idea where he was, or where he could go.
other- He has dogtags around his neck that belonged to his father. They aren't from the military though, he has no idea where he served. He never met his dad, but feels he isn't dead, and wants to find him.
(is this good?)
Your character is perfectly acceptable, you may post your starter ASAP.
Anastasia had been to this clothing shop only a few times before, but she could easily find her way around. Getting a not-so-subtle stare down from the older looking shop owner, the Stitch narrowed her sights to the clothing racks before her, attempting to pull together an outfit from clothing before her. She was mid stride, her fingers flitting through the rack of dresses that she would most likely not purchase when an arm jutted out, clasping onto her forearm and pulling her rather abruptly- and not so gracefully-into the rack of clothing. It took a moment for her eyes and mind to adjust to the sudden change, but Anastasia soon found herself face to face with a boy. Her piercing gaze lay upon him briefly as she eyed him up, moving from his short, slim stature up to his rounded face that still seemed all to open to be any sort of alarming, her gaze finally settling on a pair of light grey eyes that peered timidly, almost questioning back at her. But, she knew better than anyone never to underestimate an enemy, no matter how meek they may appear.
He spoke quick, smooth english that she could easily pick up. The place he was referring to, from the look of his similar hospital gown attire, was the Division. And yes she had just escaped from there. No, she hadn't expected any other to escape, let alone to follow her. This was a problem. With a resigned sigh, she pulled her wrist from his grasp, running her fingers through her scalp as her gaze hardened, turning to the floor. A slur of Russian curses poured from her delicate lips as she muttered quietly to herself. This was a problem. A big problem. She either had to lose this kid, or risk getting caught by the Division goons.
Without throwing him a backward glance, she lept gracefully out from the clothing kiosk, nearly running through the maze of clothing and grabbing a few items as they caught her eye. Within seconds, she was into an (what she thought was) abandoned dressing room. She stripped down, pulling on the undergarments. Next came her khaki shorts. Then a black tank top followed by an cream colored blouse.
Next she took a moment to steal herself, sucking in a sharp breath before reaching behind her head where the final needle rest. Just above the standard Division issue barcode tattoo- the dark ink disturbing the natural beauty of her soft, bronzen flesh- was a large tube erupting from her skin. Her fingers grasped the tube tightly and with a quick, steady movement she tore the long, metal needle from her neck. She bit her hand to muffle the cry, tossing the hunk of metal to the side. That is when her gaze met the another gaze. One green and one grey. The other gaze was obstructed by a wall of bleach blonde bangs, but Anastasia could still make out the figure of the small blonde girl with pale skin pressed against the floor nearly hidden beneath the thigh high bench. And she could make out the Division issue tattoo on the back of the girl's strained neck. Shit.
This was worse than she anticipated. She opened the door, backing out of the room as she raised an eyebrow at the girl. How was it possible another had escaped? Just then she noticed another girl in the store. One who was peering around the dressing rooms as if searching for someone. She recognized this one as well, with her slim figure, almond shaped face, and dark chestnut hair. She recognized all of them. Anastasia had helped to capture some of them. She had trained and combatted against some of them. Either way, there was no questioning it. They were all Division crew. And seemingly, they had all escaped.
Turning her gaze around the store once more, the tall bronzen girl let out another loud sigh. She couldn't just leave them all. Clearing her throat, she closed her eyes for a moment, pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose. She didn't have much time to think. They needed to get moving. "Alright. We haven't got much time. We need to get moving, now." Pulling on a pair of mid calf socks and boot, the Stitch grabbed the backpack she had stashed months ago in the back corner of the store, hidden beneath a few rows of miscellaneous items. Slinging it over her shoulders, she tossed enough money to cover the expenses of their raid to the surprised storeowner behind the counter. She moved through the store, heading to the front door. She paused with her hand pressed against the glass, turning back to the others for only a moment. "I'm leaving now. And if you want to elude capture, I suggest you come with me. If not, best of luck to you." Without another glance back, her piercing gaze was turned to the street as she made her way out into the city, hoping to find some crowd cover and blend before the Division would swarm in. They wouldn't be too far behind now...
As Aulis got a better look at the girl from that place, he could see she was beautiful, and roughly his age. She wrote him off, saying something in another language. She hopped out of the clothing rack, grabbed some clothes and went to a dressing room. Aulis decided to get some clothes too. He grabbed a dark blue Long sleeved polo, some skinny jeans and a pair of Vans, which he had donated, to this store last week.
He bought a wallet and paid for his clothes then put them on in the men's changing rooms. He saw a Bar code tattoo on his upper neck. He went to wait in the lobby, He saw some others with bar code tattoo's, and the the girl from before walked over to the door. Offered to let us join her. "Well you don't want to go out that way, there are agents in cars on both corners, and i suspect they are making their way here. So we should go out the back, My Safe-house isn't too far, and I have some supplies."
The shoes walked on, left toward the dead end. She heard a thump where it probably leaned back against the wall. Thorne did not move. She pursed her lips, and muffled a sigh. She was scared, and was absolutely paralyzed. Thorne had imagined this, though. She should have anticipated her capture. Thorne knew they were hot on her trail.
Two weeks before her last memory she received a letter. Thorne had no idea who it was from. It was written in Thai, so she had to get a local to read it, just a word at a time for security reasons. The Cliffnotes version was that "D" was right up the road. She assumed D was Division, so she ran to North Korea. It wasn't easy, there were many police.
Thorne shut out her memory when she heard brisk running in her direction. It was long and graceful running, not like stomping or strutting of the Division. She bit her tongue when a bronze woman bust through the door. She changed clothes, and Thorne knew she escaped. She saw Thorne. Thorne knew she was not happy to see her. She left the dressing room, leaving Thorne stunned and heart racing. Thorne heard her announce that she was welcome to follow. The boots from across the dressing room ran towards the bronze woman, but paused to look at the crouching, cowardly girl. She pleaded with her eyes, and ran away.
What else can I do? Thorne thought to herself. Nothing, but follow. What else could she do? Brave it alone? Die. Thorne didn't think, but did. She ran to the door, and followed.
Eve was perplexed. Where had the girl gone? She knew she had escaped, she had a gut feeling. All she wanted was to talk. That's all. But, as luck would have it, the girl probably jumped or something. Wouldn't that be the dream? A jumper. What good was a bleeder, granted she could fight a pretty good fight. Even mover was better. She knew that wasn't what Gran would say. And that she shouldn't be thinking like this. "You are special, Eve. Don't let anybody strip you of that." She missed Gran. Better than Uncle Soho, who she without a doubt, one hundred percent knew was associated with this somehow.
She slumped on the wall, covering her face in her hands. She just stood there like that. Then she maintained poise: pulling her hair up on the top of her head, straightening her back, and wiping away any stray tears.
But Eve started when a woman rushed into the dressing area. She locked eyes with Eve, and she had this strange sensation of rememberance. She entered the dressing room, and quickly came back out. Eve walked toward her to ask her, anything, just talk with her. Eve heard her saying to follow her, and immediately this was Eve's prayers answered. A way out, and escape. She looked skilled and ready to fight. Protection. Eve ran to her, but stopped as she witnessed the girl she followed in here cowardly crouching under the seat. She stared her down, trying to negotiate wordlessly. Come, she said, and be safe with me.
Eve exited the store, and saw the woman. She had to keep a distance, but she followed.
Hey long time no post for me. :S good to be back though. Am I too late to create a character?