Core [REBOOT] - PreNES, Registration, Questions, and OOC
- Thread starter CivOasis
- Start date
mythmonster2
BEC NOIR! RUN!
Ah, alright. Changed the reference to the gates closing to just a generic x years ago.
Optical
The Fall of the Eleventh
I just deleted my whole RP/signup by accident! 
Ouch.
Anyways, the wiki is also available, albeit rather empty (you should totally fill it).
Some guidelines:
Character pages should simply have the character's name as a title, and should have the categories "Generation 1" and "Characters." If you have anything else, feel free to add that, too, but just make sure you have a non-redundant structure for the categories (since IDT I can delete them).
And a bit of a teaser for the intro post - a one-line brief of the three NPCs who will pop up in the introduction (to go up this weekend, possibly tomorrow).
Anyways, the wiki is also available, albeit rather empty (you should totally fill it).
Some guidelines:
Character pages should simply have the character's name as a title, and should have the categories "Generation 1" and "Characters." If you have anything else, feel free to add that, too, but just make sure you have a non-redundant structure for the categories (since IDT I can delete them).
And a bit of a teaser for the intro post - a one-line brief of the three NPCs who will pop up in the introduction (to go up this weekend, possibly tomorrow).
Spoiler :
Lorenzo Michelakos stood at the stern of his ship, perhaps the most unimposing captain in all of history. Middle-aged, balding, and with a pot belly to fit his short stature, the man had a horrible reputation as a con artist – a completely valid concern, given his presence in the city. All of this was far outside of Lorenzo’s attention, though, as he stared up at the harbor skyline. Among the many buildings overlooking the shore, he picked out one in particular – an apartment complex, with a massive top-floor penthouse projecting itself over the water. This was why he was one of the few merchants still willing to deal with Core; his underhanded tactics had guaranteed a seat of luxury at the end of the world. He just had one more shipment to make, the final load of fuel he would deposit along the Panamanian bay. A series of shouts broke Michelakos’ concentration, and he turned in time to feel a wave of heat wash over him, a brilliant inferno of light and sound. Later medical and forensic reconstructions would declare that the Greek felt nothing; his neck had snapped in the initial explosion. The smoldering ship would rapidly disappear beneath the waves, yet another sunken vessel awaiting a dredge call from the docks.
Past the first wall, police helicopters swung away from the tropical slums, leaving Shad Karim bizarrely alone. This neighborhood had recent been burned down; most likely an act of arson. With the area already looted for any valuables, it was temporarily abandoned, leaving the Core-born nineteen-year-old with a brief moment of solitude. Musing to himself, Shad drew a knife from his sweatshirt, before flicking the hood up. His parents had done better than most upon arrival – being from Chicago, and Marrakech before that, they weren’t incapable of handling themselves – but a wealthy family living in the slums was still going to suffer. His mother had died of illness while he was a child; his father caught in a shootout between gangs and police three months back. The orphan had come home to find a charred and raided shack, and Karim had lived on the streets ever since. Glancing up quickly at the wall, to ensure the guards were not watching, Shad returned to his feet, and ducked beneath the nearby overhang. There had to be a way into the main city, if only you knew where to look…
The central hub of the city, much like the walls, is a circle, ringed by a variety of high-profile buildings. Within one of these, Gautier Michel sat, uncertain of whether he wanted to strangle the man across from him, or jump out the closest window. Arata Hamasaki, the man in question, was rather displeased with the reaction.
“You do realize, Michel, that this is your job,” Hamasaki asked, “and that we no longer have time to wait?”
Gautier’s left eye made the slightest twitch in frustration. “I am responsible for public announcements, Mr. Hamasaki. My job is to tell people what the council decided upon, not that an engineer has decided to kill them!”
Arata leaned back, pressed his palms together, and sighed. The Tokyo-born doctor bowed his head to the Montréal-born politician, and began again.
“We have been over this before. Core was designed for approximately one million people, and established resources to support up to three million by the end of the next decade. Our latest estimates place the population at an excess of fifteen million people, and we have already dipped into emergency resources set aside for the next century. We simply cannot continue to support these people. Our capabilities do not allow it.”
Michel leaned forwards, and responded again. “I will not condemn these people to death, Arata.”
“Then you will condemn all of humanity to death.”
Gautier remained silent at this. Arata continued.
“Whether you like or not, Mr. Michel, the matter is decided. You are to report the matter to the public.”
As the man, one of the few who had designed the city, walked out the door, he turned again to Gautier.
“Let us not forget who is in charge, Mr. Michel.”
The Quebecois man bowed his head in defeat, and muttered.
“I doubt you know who that is any more than I do.”
Past the first wall, police helicopters swung away from the tropical slums, leaving Shad Karim bizarrely alone. This neighborhood had recent been burned down; most likely an act of arson. With the area already looted for any valuables, it was temporarily abandoned, leaving the Core-born nineteen-year-old with a brief moment of solitude. Musing to himself, Shad drew a knife from his sweatshirt, before flicking the hood up. His parents had done better than most upon arrival – being from Chicago, and Marrakech before that, they weren’t incapable of handling themselves – but a wealthy family living in the slums was still going to suffer. His mother had died of illness while he was a child; his father caught in a shootout between gangs and police three months back. The orphan had come home to find a charred and raided shack, and Karim had lived on the streets ever since. Glancing up quickly at the wall, to ensure the guards were not watching, Shad returned to his feet, and ducked beneath the nearby overhang. There had to be a way into the main city, if only you knew where to look…
The central hub of the city, much like the walls, is a circle, ringed by a variety of high-profile buildings. Within one of these, Gautier Michel sat, uncertain of whether he wanted to strangle the man across from him, or jump out the closest window. Arata Hamasaki, the man in question, was rather displeased with the reaction.
“You do realize, Michel, that this is your job,” Hamasaki asked, “and that we no longer have time to wait?”
Gautier’s left eye made the slightest twitch in frustration. “I am responsible for public announcements, Mr. Hamasaki. My job is to tell people what the council decided upon, not that an engineer has decided to kill them!”
Arata leaned back, pressed his palms together, and sighed. The Tokyo-born doctor bowed his head to the Montréal-born politician, and began again.
“We have been over this before. Core was designed for approximately one million people, and established resources to support up to three million by the end of the next decade. Our latest estimates place the population at an excess of fifteen million people, and we have already dipped into emergency resources set aside for the next century. We simply cannot continue to support these people. Our capabilities do not allow it.”
Michel leaned forwards, and responded again. “I will not condemn these people to death, Arata.”
“Then you will condemn all of humanity to death.”
Gautier remained silent at this. Arata continued.
“Whether you like or not, Mr. Michel, the matter is decided. You are to report the matter to the public.”
As the man, one of the few who had designed the city, walked out the door, he turned again to Gautier.
“Let us not forget who is in charge, Mr. Michel.”
The Quebecois man bowed his head in defeat, and muttered.
“I doubt you know who that is any more than I do.”
KaiserElectric
Total Freakin Besties
- Joined
- Dec 2, 2007
- Messages
- 3,461
Name: Hartwin Lorenz Raskoph
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Physical Description: Six feet and two inches tall and of average weight with a lithe build. He has blond hair and green-blue eyes, with a hooked nose and a thin face. He's rarely seen with a smile on his face and out of his plain white work shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
Origin: Raskoph was born in Hannover, Germany, and moved to Core after being offered an important position. He's been to several other European countries post-Core due to his line of work.
Occupation: Raskoph is a logistical genius in charge of shipping and the movement of goods in Core. Most importantly though, he oversees the shipments of goods into Core itself.
Bio: Raskoph was born into an average German family, showing a gift at organization, possibly stemming from his Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. He was eventually drafted into the Navy during an international crisis, although due to his mental health he was assigned to a logistics position. He performed extremely well there, keeping NATO supply lines operational for a full four years rather than the predicted two weeks. Raskoph continued to excel in his position until he was approached by Core investors and asked to consider a position looking over the supply and shipping infrastructure in Core. Given the state of the rest of the world, he accepted with little hesitation.
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Physical Description: Six feet and two inches tall and of average weight with a lithe build. He has blond hair and green-blue eyes, with a hooked nose and a thin face. He's rarely seen with a smile on his face and out of his plain white work shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
Origin: Raskoph was born in Hannover, Germany, and moved to Core after being offered an important position. He's been to several other European countries post-Core due to his line of work.
Occupation: Raskoph is a logistical genius in charge of shipping and the movement of goods in Core. Most importantly though, he oversees the shipments of goods into Core itself.
Bio: Raskoph was born into an average German family, showing a gift at organization, possibly stemming from his Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. He was eventually drafted into the Navy during an international crisis, although due to his mental health he was assigned to a logistics position. He performed extremely well there, keeping NATO supply lines operational for a full four years rather than the predicted two weeks. Raskoph continued to excel in his position until he was approached by Core investors and asked to consider a position looking over the supply and shipping infrastructure in Core. Given the state of the rest of the world, he accepted with little hesitation.
Optical
The Fall of the Eleventh
Name: Rodrigo Sanchez
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Physical Description: 1.77m tall (about 5' 10''), black hair and brown eyes, Hispanic features, of a stocky build. Wears an old, dusty T-shirt and heavily patched jeans everywhere he goes.
Origin: Born in Deming, New Mexico
Occupation: Lanternmaker/candlemaker
Bio: Moved to Core with his father at the age of 7. His parents' marriage, never strong, ended over the potential move. Rodrigo inherited his father's business of making lanterns, lamps and candles when his father retired ten years after their move to Core, and has a reputation as the best in the trade in the eastern quarter of the city. He attends the church down the road from his house, but has no known friends there and little is known about his private life.
Reported missing, 31.12.34. At a New Years' party organised by a neighbour. Whereabouts unknown since that date.
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Physical Description: 1.77m tall (about 5' 10''), black hair and brown eyes, Hispanic features, of a stocky build. Wears an old, dusty T-shirt and heavily patched jeans everywhere he goes.
Origin: Born in Deming, New Mexico
Occupation: Lanternmaker/candlemaker
Bio: Moved to Core with his father at the age of 7. His parents' marriage, never strong, ended over the potential move. Rodrigo inherited his father's business of making lanterns, lamps and candles when his father retired ten years after their move to Core, and has a reputation as the best in the trade in the eastern quarter of the city. He attends the church down the road from his house, but has no known friends there and little is known about his private life.
Reported missing, 31.12.34. At a New Years' party organised by a neighbour. Whereabouts unknown since that date.
December 24, Year 35; 8:14 PM
Gautier Michel stood atop the Second Wall, flanked on either side by armed guards. Below him was the only remaining gate into Core; ahead, the thousands of people who would ordinarily be flooding into the city. Tonight, they stood still, awaiting the young politicians speech.
The man standing atop the gate regarded them with mixed elements fear and pity. Here they stood, sprawled across the would-be farmlands, turning fertile ground into a vast expanse of blighted dirt, mud, and crowded encampments. On the other
Michel began to speak.
I apologize for disrupting your schedules this Christmas Eve, but this announcement is to urgent to postpone. As you are all aware, each open gate on this city leaves an opportunity for attack. Each attack requires our response. I stand upon the final gate into the city the harbor is closed as a result of a bombing yesterday afternoon.
He bowed his head before continuing.
The harbor will not reopen. The council has made the decision to close of Core indefinitely. At midnight, New Years morning, this gate will close as will the one out in the farmlands. Police presence along all walls, at all points, will increase. You have one week to either enter the city, or vacate the region. Violations will not be tolerated.
Gautier turned away.
I am sorry.
Core is now open. All sign-ups, OOC, and questions should be restricted to this thread; the game thread is solely for RP.
Gautier Michel stood atop the Second Wall, flanked on either side by armed guards. Below him was the only remaining gate into Core; ahead, the thousands of people who would ordinarily be flooding into the city. Tonight, they stood still, awaiting the young politicians speech.
The man standing atop the gate regarded them with mixed elements fear and pity. Here they stood, sprawled across the would-be farmlands, turning fertile ground into a vast expanse of blighted dirt, mud, and crowded encampments. On the other
Michel began to speak.
I apologize for disrupting your schedules this Christmas Eve, but this announcement is to urgent to postpone. As you are all aware, each open gate on this city leaves an opportunity for attack. Each attack requires our response. I stand upon the final gate into the city the harbor is closed as a result of a bombing yesterday afternoon.
He bowed his head before continuing.
The harbor will not reopen. The council has made the decision to close of Core indefinitely. At midnight, New Years morning, this gate will close as will the one out in the farmlands. Police presence along all walls, at all points, will increase. You have one week to either enter the city, or vacate the region. Violations will not be tolerated.
Gautier turned away.
I am sorry.
Core is now open. All sign-ups, OOC, and questions should be restricted to this thread; the game thread is solely for RP.
KaiserElectric
Total Freakin Besties
- Joined
- Dec 2, 2007
- Messages
- 3,461
Awesome. Are there still supplies coming into port, or is it closed entirely?
talonschild
Drive-By NESer
This may be a bad idea, as I plan to launch MESNES III sometime this week, but...
Name: Siaosi Fakafanua
Age: 45
Gender: Male
Physical Description: Small and Polynesian. While he walks with a slight limp, his swimming is unaffected - and, indeed, phenomenal.
Origin: The delightful island kingdom of Tonga
Occupation: Pilot
Bio: When the fragile Tongan economy collapsed, the rioting claimed the lives of his family (and nearly his own). Siaosi just barely made it to the airport (and an unclaimed Cessna) and started flying. He ran out of fuel just as he reached the Panamanian coast, crashed and made his way into the city just in time. Got nothing but the shirt on his back.
Name: Siaosi Fakafanua
Age: 45
Gender: Male
Physical Description: Small and Polynesian. While he walks with a slight limp, his swimming is unaffected - and, indeed, phenomenal.
Origin: The delightful island kingdom of Tonga
Occupation: Pilot
Bio: When the fragile Tongan economy collapsed, the rioting claimed the lives of his family (and nearly his own). Siaosi just barely made it to the airport (and an unclaimed Cessna) and started flying. He ran out of fuel just as he reached the Panamanian coast, crashed and made his way into the city just in time. Got nothing but the shirt on his back.
Celticfury
King
Name: Julian Sokolowski
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Physical Description: Height - 1.7 meters tall (5' 7"); Weight - 64.4 kilograms (142 lbs.); Build - Rather scrawny, lacking in muscle; Eye color - Light brown; Hair color - Brown; Defining features - Julian has a long face, with a widow's peak. A permanent layer of stubble adorns his cheeks and chins, never seeming to grow beyond a half inch in length.
Origin: Julian was born in Olsztyn, Poland.
Occupation: Julian runs a small salvage operation, which is a front for his more lucrative fencing operation. He also deals with the disposal of incriminating and/or hazardous materials, goods, and/or former persons, though he will charge a greater premium for these services.
Bio: For much of his life, Julian has been an expert in procuring hard to obtain items. This attracted the attention of one Anisim Mihaylov, a Russian businessman who have earned a spot in Core's Inner Circle. Anisim brought Julian into the city, giving him a place to live and a substantial wage. All Julian had to do was obtain items that were normally restricted from within Core's walls. It was a pretty good deal, at least until Core began to close itself off to the world. Adding to this problem was the issue of Anisim's dealings with a local mafia, which earned the businessman an early grave. Julian soon found himself shunted out to Core's outer slums. Using what was left of his income, he was able to start a small salvage company, where he put his other skills to use behind the scenes.
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Physical Description: Height - 1.7 meters tall (5' 7"); Weight - 64.4 kilograms (142 lbs.); Build - Rather scrawny, lacking in muscle; Eye color - Light brown; Hair color - Brown; Defining features - Julian has a long face, with a widow's peak. A permanent layer of stubble adorns his cheeks and chins, never seeming to grow beyond a half inch in length.
Origin: Julian was born in Olsztyn, Poland.
Occupation: Julian runs a small salvage operation, which is a front for his more lucrative fencing operation. He also deals with the disposal of incriminating and/or hazardous materials, goods, and/or former persons, though he will charge a greater premium for these services.
Bio: For much of his life, Julian has been an expert in procuring hard to obtain items. This attracted the attention of one Anisim Mihaylov, a Russian businessman who have earned a spot in Core's Inner Circle. Anisim brought Julian into the city, giving him a place to live and a substantial wage. All Julian had to do was obtain items that were normally restricted from within Core's walls. It was a pretty good deal, at least until Core began to close itself off to the world. Adding to this problem was the issue of Anisim's dealings with a local mafia, which earned the businessman an early grave. Julian soon found himself shunted out to Core's outer slums. Using what was left of his income, he was able to start a small salvage company, where he put his other skills to use behind the scenes.
KaiserElectric
Total Freakin Besties
- Joined
- Dec 2, 2007
- Messages
- 3,461
Still working on my story, sorry. 
Optical
The Fall of the Eleventh
I'll post RP as soon as I have the time. 
Probably tomorrow.
Probably tomorrow.
mythmonster2
BEC NOIR! RUN!
Same as Optical here, tomorrow's most likely when I can get an RP up.
