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Sign Up We Were Patriots Then

0ber0n the Neko

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[COLOR="DarkRed"]The following RP is for those who have become disillusioned with high and gothic fantasy. It will contain graphic violence, language, and possible sexuality.


[COLOR="DarkRed"]We were patriots then.

We heard the speeches, sang the songs, and felt the beating of a single, red heart - the boots of war marched endlessly to the west. We fell in line and swore our oaths. We cut our hair and clenched our rifles tight as our regimented footsteps fought with fevered screams of warlust. The crowd waved red flags, wore red stars, and urged us onto victory.

Victory, against the west! The shouts could be heard all around, and even as the bullets sailed past, with the sound of mortar and machinegun fire, we heard the battlecry. All we saw was red. Our hearts beat proud, red blood.

There was red in every one of us, and even as we died, we died in pools of red.

In those foxholes, we were brothers. On those fields of battle, we learned the meaning of "comrade". In every eye was fear, but not fear of death in battle. It was a fear of the country that we swore to protect, and the red, that insistent weight on every shoulder, that pride that shackled us to our rifles, that held them in iron grips and steely gazes.

In the end, we all had seen the red.

The flags sailed proudly over battlements once fiercely fought, over towns once under our siege. The red was in the stars, and on the bodies lying in the fields.

We were patriots then.

Then, when war was over, and we fought against ourselves. We fought with hunger, strife, and unrest. We watched breasts once bearing red stars breathe out hatred for the symbol we protected. We shot them dead, the enemy.

But such deaths were never so clean.

Something in us stirred, something of the red within us shook. We watched without the steely eyes of war as ones we'd once called brothers, comrades, died in our bullet-fire.

We watched them burn the flags and break the stars, all the while propelled by the symbols they destroyed. We felt great, red eyes upon us until we realized that we were those eyes. The eyes upon us were not the eyes of brothers, but of vultures.

And something, somewhere, broke.

We were patriots then.

But never again.

Notes about the setting:

Imagine WWII-era designs. Such words as "Spartan", "Utilitarian", and "Bleak" are appropriate. Imagine a black and white movie where the only chromatic color is red.

However, technology is post-modern. Firearms are in wide use. Laser technology is not yet utilized for military purpose. Airships exist (and are more efficient and long-lived than current air-based technology today - there are airship cities, too.)

The government is not necessarily communist, but there is a definite sense of nationalism. The dominant (and only) party is the Red Party.

We will actually begin our story during the latter throes of the war, and continue onward into the post-war era from there.

Your character is not a god-slaying kill machine.

There is magic, but it's not really arcane so much as it is psionic. To clarify, magic is more of a psychic ability than an arcane talent. To clarify further, magic is stripped of most of its flourish, and is more battle or utility-oriented.

Just be conservative about magic if your character has it.


Notes about character creation:

I say this again, with emphasis. [B]Your character is not a god-slaying kill machine.[/B]

Your outfit for the first leg of the story is government issue. I'll post pictures at some point in the not-so-distant future. Nothing like super-space-marine armor. If we're using a Warhammer 40k reference, think more about what individuals in the Imperial Guard would wear.

You're a human. Boring, I know, but I don't want to see any vampires, d&d races, or creatures from human mythology (demons, angels, gods, etc.) If you have something [I]really[/I] creative, PM me and we'll figure something out.

When I ask for a weapon, please specify if it is single-shot, semi-automatic, or automatic. Yes, you may have more than one. However, if you have magic, your weapons should reflect that (i.e. shouldn't be as good as someone without).

Try to be creative and give your character a unique drive.

Yes, both men and women can be soldiers.

PM me if you're thinking about being more politically inclined.



Brief Physical Description:
Brief Personality Description:
Reason for Enlisting:

One distinguishing feature about your character
One way in which war has changed/will change your character


Final notes:

All characters are the same rank in the same squad.

(Keep an eye out for edits)[/COLOR]
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  • 3 weeks later...
[B]Name:[/B] Jonathan Sinclair

[B]Age:[/B] 24

[B]Sex:[/B] Male

[B]Weapon:[/B] Two Combat Knife's, two Pistol's

[B]Psionic:[/B] Telekinesis (but it has a catch, after he is done using it he has to bleed an ounce of blood, so he generally uses it after he is injured by the enemy as a last resort because of its price).

[B]Physical Description:[/B] Height 6''1, straight black hair, distinct blue/yellow eyes, as fit as any man thats gone through boot camp, long surgical fingers, and lightly tanned.

[B]Personality:[/B] Jonathan Sinclair is a scholar at heart, young and already jaded he joined the army at the age of 21 simply because it peaked his interest (its in reason for enlistment). He is very much of a "to the point" kind of guy but whenever he starts to talk about his insights and research he becomes very enthusiastic, so much so that it appears he is a different person ( and when he is like that you dont want to be his research subject). The belief in which he applies much of his life upon is that the ends justify the means, that being said he doesnt have to many disagreements with the military. One trait in which his scholarly heart can be held accounted for is his inability to resist a mystery, simply put he will virtually do anything for knowledge. Jonathan Sinclair has but only one pet peeve, whenever anyone calls him "Johnny" for short he will always argue and insist that you call him by his full name.

[B]Reason for enlisting:[/B] He wants to learn and do research on humans and their nature, he planned on serving the army for two years (as that is all he thought his research on war and its affect on humans would take) but after those two years he came to realize that there was much more work to be done.

[B]War reflection:[/B] Humans are a hopelessly loathsome and predictable lot.

[B]Notable feature:[/B] His right eye is yellow, and his left is blue
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[B]Name:[/B] Lenya Antonovicha
[B]Age:[/B] 26
[B]Sex: [/B]Female
[B]Weapon:[/B] one single shot pistol, one semi-automatic rifle and a combat knife
[B]Soldier/Psionic:[/B] Soldier
[B]Brief Physical Description:[/B] 5'6, medium build, angular features with cropped and slicked back chesnut brown hair
[B]Brief Personality Description:[/B] Optimistic yet serious, Lenya is happy to follow orders, though not blindly. She is caring and compassionate regarding her fellow soldiers, but can be resolute and single minded when it comes to the enemy. She is intelligent, observant and well educated but is very cautious about parading this, concerned that she might alienate some of her comrades.
[B]Reason for Enlisting:[/B] Originally the daughter of a high class doctor, Lenya sympathised with the plight of the front line soliders, disobeying her father's wishing and enlisting to aid them in the best way she could.

[B]One distinguishing feature about your character:[/B] A single mole, high on her right cheek bone.
[B]One way in which war has changed/will change your character:[/B] Privilege is a thing of the past, Lenya has been faced with the harsh realities of modern warfare and the casualties it results in.
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  • 3 weeks later...
This sounds interesting, I'm excited its yours Ober on!
Name: Kineas Eric
Age: 22
Sex: Female
Weapon: 1 Semi-Automatic Rifle, 1 semi-automatic hand gun (yet to be determined), and 1 knife (hidden)
Soldier/Psionic: Soldier with undeveloped Psionic potential (if approved by Ober on)
Brief Physical Description: She stands at mighty height of 5 even, her skin is pale, and her long dark chocolate hair set with curls. Her vision far from perfect, so a small set of black plastic glasses adorns her face. Her eyes are the type of emerald that had seen better days, but still shown in a dark room.
Brief Personality Description: Kind, soft spoken, occasionally shy, but the best friend you could hope for. She has been through alot of tragedy in her life, but strives not to let it show, never telling anyone about her past. Its not that she wont tell anyone... they just have to ask.
Reason for Enlisting: Hoping to make a difference in a gloomy world.

One distinguishing feature about your character: Rough heart shape scar that sits just under the corner of her left eye.
One way in which war has changed/will change your character: The war has created her quiet demenor, and she used to be quite energetic and outgoing.
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Name: Captain Laos "Cold Eyes" Finnegan
Age: 28
Sex: Male
Weapon: Bayonet Gauss Rifle, combat knife, medium caliber service pistol
Soldier/Psionic: A stoic soldier, whose marksmanship is virtually unparalleled. He was offered many times to undergo psionic training (as tests show he has the psionic "spark"), but he has adamantly refused it. Nobody knows why, but many are sure that it has something to do with his less than kind regard for psionics.
Brief Physical Description: Laos stands about 6' tall, and is well built, showing unmistakable evidence of intense physical training. He has a strong jaw, cold green eyes, and a jagged scar running from his left brow all the way down to his clavicle. He has short black hair, and attractive features.
Brief Personality Description: Captain Finnegan is a strange figure. Outside of his platoon, he is known and feared for his strict discipline. Most soldiers, if given the option, would sooner leave the armed forces than serve under Captain "Cold Eyes". However, those who serve under him are often grateful for his strict commands, having often been saved by a lesson taught by his harsh punishment.
Reason for Enlisting: A man doesn't need a reason to enlist. All he needs is a reason to win.

One distinguishing feature about your character: His unexplained, visibly terrifying scar.
One way in which war has changed/will change your character: He's always been sort of an "Iron Man", killing without thought or remorse for the fallen. His patriotism is legendary. However, at the war's end, something will shake his faith in the Red...

(OOC: One or two more characters, and I'm starting this thing.)
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Name: Urik Ontill
Age: 20
Sex: Male
Weapon: Regular semi-auto service rifle, attachable single-shot grenade launcher, several flash and smoke grenades, and frag ammo for the launcher.
Soldier/Psionic: Soldier. Urik joined the army young, forging documents and lying about his age. He was quickly advanced into a squad, a frontline warrior, expected to die. Even as bullets whizzed by, as friends and brothers fell, as the very ground shook he fought on. When the battle finally subsided his face was red with blood: the blood of all around him. Each battle, whether a hard-earned victory or a grueling loss, he was just moved to a new squandrant, a new set of people to know and to watch die. That's how the war began for him, and that's how he knows it will end.
Brief Physical Description: Urik's dirty blonde hair always wildly jumps off of his skull in wafting drafts. He has almost sickly green eyes, like a stagant ocean caught in a storm. His smooth cheeks from the now regular shaving make him look more his age, and obviously younger than the regular vet. A slight smile always plays on his face like the macabre interest of the insane. His skinny build, which used to be downright boney but now slightly less peckish from his war labors, usually hangs limp, beaten, until he feels the smooth hilt of his gun back again, where the war-torn rigidity returns.
Brief Personality Description: Urik's almost carefree attitude startles most. Between battles he frequently just skygazes or draws. He always seems to be somewhere else, somewhere better, at least when the enemy doesn't loom. During wartime, he almost transforms into a serious machine, built for no reason other than following orders.
Reason for Enlisting: Like most others his age, he felt the need to do something but the helplessness of youth. His only plan was to escape into the war, and that's just what he did.
One distinguishing feature about your character: He carries a small pocketwatch without a chain at all times.
One way in which war has changed/will change your character: The war has added a new sterness to his life, changing his old ways into two almost seperate states-of-mind.
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  • 2 weeks later...
[COLOR="SlateGray"][SIZE="1"][B]Name:[/B] Joseph Allington

[B]Age:[/B] 25

[B]Sex:[/B] Male

[B]Weapon:[/B] Fully-automatic Light Machine Gun, knuckle dusters.

[B]Soldier/Psionic:[/B] Soldier, with hidden rarely used psionic talents. The ability to tap into the molecular structure of a human being, thus speeding up the healing process of a wound, though Joseph hides it so he isn't forced to be a medic.

[B]Brief Physical Description:[/B] If you could say one man is a monolith, it would be Allington. Standing at a large framed 6'7'' with a stone jaw and a shaved mohawk you could easily pick him out as the heavy gunner in a squad. He wears your average military fatigues though his blouse sleeves are torn off at the shoulder to showcase his bulging biceps.

[B]Brief Personality Description:[/B] Patriotic. If it isn't for the country it's bad. Hearty, and a well meaning man he can get quite vicious during the heat of battle and has a tendency to fly into a bloodlust.

[B]Reason for Enlisting:[/B] Its what his father did, what his fathers father did, what his fathers fathers father did. Family tradition, you see.

[B]One distinguishing feature about your character:[/B] The fact that he is quite easily one of the largest man some have seen.

[B]One way in which war has changed/will change your character:[/B] In the beginnings of his tour of duty he was a well disciplined and upstanding soldier but as the war dragged on and general rules of war were tossed out the window he became a more sinister being during combat and far less disciplined out of it.[/SIZE][/COLOR]
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Guest Mr. Whiskey
Name: Rivan Basid.

Age: 27.

Sex: Male

Weapon: 6.8mm Selective Fire Carbine, .44 Revolver, frag grenades, satchel charge, combat knife.

Soldier/Psionic: Complete soldier, no Psionic's of which to mention. A full, uncompromising ground pounder, feels more at home on the ground then anywhere else. Trained to shoot and to fight hand to hand throughout his childhood. Experienced his first taste of combat at age 14 when Guerrilla soldiers raided his home town and slaughtered over half of its inhabitants. Rivan killed four of the enemy Soldiers but was shot several times and left for dead, was later found bleeding out by the survivors of his home town and slowly nursed back to health over the passing months. He typically joined the military when he was 22, after his indoctrination into his father's trade had failed horribly, and had no other open career paths to him.

Brief Physical Description: 6' 2", fairly well built. Well trimmed straight brown hair. Generic off-white skin, tends to keep his facial hair at 'five 'o clock shadow' length. Icy blue eyes. Tattoo's run up and down his arms and down his back, usually covered by his combat fatigues.

Brief Personality Description: A rather grimly cheery person. Quite often speaks up but only to slyly voice disturbing opinions or pessimistic view points. Not really a 'lone wolf' but tends to resent the members of his squad. Despite his distaste for them, he tends to respect his squad and watches out for them on the field, knowing their survival dictates his survival. Joined the Military with profit in mind after hearing soldiers talk about the 'loot on the battlefield'. He has no morales about looting dead bodies for valuables. As mentioned before, tattoo's mark his entire body, but he wont talk about them and also wont mention anything about his family to anyone.

Reason for Enlisting: When being indoctrinated into his fathers trade, Rivan had no interest in it and did not apply himself, thus he failed at it and was cast out of his apprenticeship. He later heard some Soldiers in a bar talking about all of the loot on the battlefield and how they didn't take it off of the bodies because they had 'morales'. Basid asked them if it what they had said about the loot was true or not. They said yes, that there were 'Millions of dollars worth of items" on all of the corpses. Basid had dreamed about being rich, thus his mind was made up. His fear of corpses would have to be put aside. His mind was made up. Little did he know, that looting the corpses was a more gruesome, dangerous, and significantly less wealthy proposition than the soldiers had made it sound.

One distinguishing feature about your character: His tattoo's are both mysterious and charming to those who have seen them. They are of no familiar design to anyone who has seen them.
One way in which war has changed/will change your character: He no longer fears corpses, which he has since he killed the guerrilla's when he was 14. The Battlefield has removed the faces and ghosts from that day from his head and filled it with an odd voice that cackles at the sight of the dead.
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