[SIGNUP] RED FOREST - SURVIVOR'S ROSTER

[Goose]

Section One:

Steam ID - STEAM_0:0:436537142
Discord ID - Goose#8047
Timezone - CST (GMT-6)​

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Section Two:
Basic Details
​

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Section Three
Biography


<:: It was me.. No.. It was him! ::> The video feed finally turned on, revealing a frantic-looking civil-protection Captain. He seems covered in fresh blood, the lifeless body of a unit in the background. The corpse is seemingly covered in 'roots.' The Captain gestured and pointed next to him, however, there was nothing there... <:: Yes... I'm innocent, I promise! He took my medicine, I can't do anything without my medicine! I can't! NO! NO! NO! I will not follow get away from me!::>
The Captain flashes his book toward the camera, revealing a drawing...



The frantic Captain smacked the camera to the side, detaching it from its stand. The camera feed goes static, before cutting out entirely. A rather drawn-out minute passes with labored breathing being heard. The camera eventually turns back on, the captain's eye-piece now broken although it seemed some time has passed. He seems less frantic, sitting down on a barrel as he spoke to the camera. An American accent is heard.

<:: Hello future individual, alien, or benefactor. I'm Michael. Otherwise known as one of the last captains of the civil protection. I think. I don't know. It's been - flat silent ever since the benefactors left. I'm not sure what's happened, but it's not good. Doesn't matter, I can handle myself. Fuck everyone else right? ::>

<:: Just to have some form of documentation so I'm remembered, I was once a free man. I belonged to the American wastelands, I was my own boss. Yet, I couldn't help the curiosity to see if my family was alive, as the wastelands grew harsher by the day, a city didn't sound like such a bad idea. So I traveled across the world - there are quite a few nice gentlemen with boats I paid. ::>

<:: I arrived in the city and was taken in by this para-military due to being a miscount. I lied through my teeth, saying I was robbed and everything was stolen from me. I was issued a new ID, and began my new life, in search of my family. Eventually learning the best way to get in contact was by joining this so-called civil-protection. Although brutal, I sort of liked their style. Imagine commanding your own army! That was my goal - the family thing sort of got side-lined in my reach for glory. ::>

<:: I served several years, faithfully - though with a hint of corruption. In my eyes, sometimes things have to be done off the book for the greater good. Whatever. I - ::>

The terminal behind the Captain lights up, and a voice is heard... His voice was cold, almost robotic. The Captain doesn't seem to be listening until certain words catch his ears. "The world as you know it is no longer habitable."

He stood up, taking his gear. The beat-up Captain looking towards the camera for the last time. His eye shows his state of mind has changed once more.

<:: Yes.. find terminal six.. Find friends. Food? No.. resources. Meatshields. Blood? We'll find out together won't we Bill? I'm taking a helicopter for myself, I doubt they'll need it anymore! HAHAHA!::>

The Captain sprinted away from the Camera, off to salvage himself a helicopter from the Nexus. Though.. he's not the best pilot, and considering his mental conditions.. he'll probably crash it somewhere close to his objective anyway.

​

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Section Four
Additional Information

I don't want anything too special, whatever equipment deemed suitable by the GM's + the captain uniform. Starting off alone by my crash-helicopter potentially? Also a bottle containing a singular pill for his schizophrenia​

 

[ClapTrap]

Spoiler: OOC Info

Steam ID:
STEAM_0:0:51034660

Discord ID:
ClapTrap#1313

Timezone:
PST

The Händler

(Art by: Connor Bremner)

There comes a moment amid extended periods of isolation where the genisis of oneself is truly forgotten. Not even this alien recalls his distant past — simply what remains. All the knowledge this Vortigaunt possesses regarding the origins of anything lie strictly in the items he has for sale...



Once a meager recluse, not wanting to take part in the conglomerate being preached among his kinsmen, Händler found his own meaning in the Vortessence. Why sacrifice individuality to become another cog in the war machine? Mere relation in blood does not warrant the killing of ones uniqueness, let alone their life.

Pressured by his tribe to conform to the 'natural conclusion', Händler set out to explore the burning, decaying remnants of Earth to pursue his own ambitions. His own story. Fortunately, his talent for hunting and foraging for the tribe proved useful for himself, as well as his keen eye for potential items worthy of trade — whether practical or sentimental.
-
Händler traveled the lands, pathing his way to the outskirts of every city he could possibly reach, exchanging countless varieties of goods and valuables he had scavenged along the journey to resistance cells far and between. Business proved surprisingly fruitful, as these cells often couldn't afford the time nor resources to reach the destinations that Händler had. On top of trade, the mere scouting knowledge regarding territory he had traveled provided the resistance a consistent stream of information on whether locations were safe to expand into or not, which they gladly rewarded the alien for in return with more loot. The thrill of proving useful to others by way of his eccentric talents, rather than the association of his kindred, was clearly too intoxicating for the youngling. He couldn't stop.

As such, he didn't! Though the Händler's sanity can be somewhat questionable, there is no doubt in his capability of persuasion, bartering, and overall utility in any given environment. The art of merchandizing and greed was in his blood, and now, with the world beginning to crumble...

That only leaves more for the taking.​

 

[Taliazure]

Spoiler: Ooc info

Steam ID - STEAM_0:1:67985352
Discord ID - Taliazure#7480
Timezone - Lisbon time (GMT +1)

Lus'tana
The follower


(art by skwallie)

A once cheerful and eager vortigaunt, this youngling believed that all life should be cherished and kept. His beliefs were crumbled with time as more and more lives are taken around him, at times it seemed like the only way to stop death was to take a life himself. That didn't sit well with him, his demeanor changed quickly, his mannerisms disappearing and instead replaced by a hollow husk of what was once someone.

Despite the beliefs he will not stop himself if push comes to shove, any threat presented before his kin he won't hold back, altough with pain within.

He believes that everything can be fixed, the only thing to still cling onto life is his positivity, that someday someone or something will come and rescue earth, reset the course back and fix it.
It is unknown who or what, perhaps a grand elder, perhaps the return of the nihilant in its fullest, maybe.. it might even be
Him

Nevertheless he follows his tribe as they scout the earth, following in the same steps as The Wanderer, finding and beholding the remains of what was once an advanced civilization, full of life and potential.
​

 

[Bi-Em]

Section One:
Steam ID: STEAM_0:1:116393258
Discord ID: Bi-em5838#2736
Timezone: GMT + 1

Section Two:


Damarco Hikins
„Mute”



He was once a Manager for Civil Workers Union in City 24, a place that took away another part of his soul in endless turnings of gears for so called „Benefactors”.
Those heavily devoted to the cause only seen another loyalist bastard that should be dead, but rest seen in him a man who shared their pain of working everyday and being payed in just more work.

He was a kind man who attempted to make life bit easier for those around him, a man who kept his morality amongs the ranks of management who only saw numbers and deadlines.

Each day his sanity was tested with more issues, with more pesky politics and people who put value of his work at the same level of repairing a GODDAMN CAMERA.

One day he snapped and left his position of Manager in CWU, alongside it his blue armband which he earned thanks to a man called Ron Goodfella, and got onboard of transport filled with citizens who were to be relocated to City 70.


This decision might had saved his life from the chaos that took over entirely of Sector 10 just days after his relocation.

What happend next is mostly unknown..some say that when gunfire ceased in City 70, he took leadership role and escorted a small group of survivors out of ruins to Outskirts. Some that he was part of failed evacuation which ended in massive casualties at hands of Xen Abominations.

Both stories might be real or fake, but all that met him can confirm that what had happend in City 70, left him with changed spirit..and no voice to tell the truth.
He was last spotted in Outskirts of so called „Prison City” heading east.

 

[Anthrax_PL]

east.

arthur eastgate reference???

 

[AzureTheFluff]

Section One:

Steam ID - STEAM_0:1:54895551
Discord ID - AzureTheFluff#8978
Timezone - GMT+1

Character Format:


THE MANIAC AKA HERO-20




The Faitful Day.

Hero-20 used be a normal cop within city one, going on about his daily life as a Civil Protection officer, keeping the peace you could say, he's been doing it for let's say roughly 2 years now having joined back in 2017, he always knew giving his life and body to the UNION was a risk to take, but he took it with pride and joy, yet what he didn't know is, his humanity would slip away the longer he kept his job, but let's skip to the day everything changed, how it came for him to be called THE MANIAC.

It was early in the morning as HERO-20 woke up, he went on with his usual day of getting coffee and then his ration, after having eaten he would put on his uniform, radio in that he's on duty and go on out of the nexus, hours go by as nothing happens, he stands around the city going back and forth between checkpoints and patrol areas, another hour goes by, as a citizen came up to him asking a few question's of course Hero-20 expected the usual questions like, "when will the rations open" or "How do i join and become an officer" but no, the questions this citizen asked were no where close to normal, The citizen asked questions like: "Is it legal to murder people" or also asking "What would happen if i were to eat someone's flesh" those questions awoke something within Hero-20 he never knew he had, the urge to kill, the urge to eradicate the annoying and weak, this was the day he killed his first innocent person, but no he wouldn't want for his Rank Leaders to know he killed someone for no reason, so he went out of his way to stage it as an attack, giving the now dead citizen a axe in his hand he confiscated and forgot in his backpack weeks ago, from that day on, Hero-20 went out of his way to kill anyone who would be annoying, or even close to weak, he would do this for months, but then that faithful day, he just finished with killing a innocent bystander with his baton as a rank leader walked in on him doing it, without hesitation the rank leader arrested hero-20 but no, this rank leader had a different idea for him, he didn't do the typical procedure, no he went ouf of his way to strand this man on the outskirts of city one, where he now resides, thirsting for death and carnage.

​

 

[Lost Coast Chanties]

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Spoiler: Music

Spoiler: Section One =========== Steam ID: ᄅ ʇɟᴉɥS ǝnlq 76561198155988671 =========== Discord ID: The Elites are blind, Arbiter#3873 =========== Timezone: GMT+5 ===========

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And I watered it in fears.
Night and morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with my smiles.
And with soft deceitful eyes.

And it grew both day and night.
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine…

​

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​

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I can still fix it...

​

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===========================
Specialist Andrew Flowers
The Deserter
=============

Andrew Flowers, City One, Victor Company. Haphazardly tasked with the upkeep of the quarantine zones dotting the surrounding regions like a plague, be it out of diligent duty, or, more likely, some already forgotten crimes...

Needless to say, that assignment didn't stand the test of time. When the Combine started knocking , everybody with half a brain knew whatever they had in store wouldn't constitute going back - not alive, at the very least.

Far as everyone could see, the writing was already on the wall. Death both ways, but standing your ground meant at least having the dignity to die like a free man... Flowers, however, never quite being a fan of neither a sense of duty, nor last stands, had a completely different idea...

All it took was some friends, supplies, and good timing. Afterwards, he was free to run away as far as eye could see. Flash forward, and the Deserter's path has led him to neither a safe heaven, nor a comfortable life...

Squad mates dead. Supplies gone. Timing...? Timing's still on key. That beautiful lingo on the screen will be his saving grace... He can still fix it, get himself a good life.

Of course, whether or not the coward will manage to outrun his doom is still up to debate.
Especially as something keeps moving through those pretty little crimson leaves...

No, no... After everything he did...
...It can't all be for nothing... Right...?​

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Spoiler: Section Two =========== Name: Andrew Flowers =========== Role: Survivor Lone Wolf =========== Equipment: - A singular ration and a bottle of water. Barely a feast in any meaning of the word. [FOOD & WATER] - A battered OSF Uniform. All protective pieces have long been ruined, resting somewhere in a ditch far, far away. [CLOTHES] - A few rolls of cloth. Barely can even be called a bandage, but better than nothing. [MEDICAL] - A faded metal lighter. Stopped being shiny eons ago, has a hard time functioning. [EQUIPMENT] - A dull combat knife. Better than throwing fists, or empty guns, for that matter. [MELEE] ===========

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[Imperator RAD-X]

T H E L O Y A L C O P

< : : UNION-9 : : >
< : : Equipment - MP5 - HEALTH VILE X2 - CP RATION X1 - MAGAZINES X4 : : >
< : : FAMILY COHESION : SHATTERED : : >​

Accepted

THE IDEALOGUE

NAME: JONATHAN FRAKES
DOB:UNKNOWN
PLACE OF RESIDENCE (Pre-Collapse); CITY 70
Affiliation: WATERPACKERS(Defunct)​

Accepted.

​ The cave is riddled with writing and scribbles along the walls of the end… What once were considered ramblings now turned true. The world had come to an end as he knew it. Jacob rose from his bed, packing his things and preparing his gas mask filters and gave them a test run. After writing in his journal and leaving one last marking in the cave, he sets out to the wasteland of what is now considered to be The Old World. Jacob is a simple man. He is pretty forgetful, only really remembering his first name. Everyone kept calling him Jacob, so he stuck with the name and forgot his old one. He’s been living off of scraps he could find in abandoned cities and towns, often hiding out in caves where the beasts and the bad people couldn’t find him.

Accepted.

Artyom Melnikov was an Ordinary Citizen living in City 1. He was used to being often relocated and didn't mind seeing the other cities of the Combine. "Another Day, Another Relocation," he always said. Though his hometown was Moscow, known as City 3, he hadn't seen his home for years now. He was a Hunter before the 7-Hour war, hunting on the Local & Xen Wildlife. He knew how to butcher different Xen Creatures to harvest their delicious meat. After the 7-Hour war, he gave up on his old occupation as a Hunter, and the Combine wasn't allowing People to Hunt for their own food with weapons. So he made a living while working in one of the thousands of facilities & factories that the combine possessed. At some point during his life in City 1, did he come across a rare opportunity, an opportunity to escape from City 1. He took the chance and ran for his dear life, hoping the Outlands & Wilderness around City 1 would welcome an Old Hunter. He came across many different & Abandoned Houses that he looked through, hoping to find either food & Equipment that he could use.

OOC: I would like to start my Journey with Grassman and I would like to own a Hunting Rifle / Sniper Rifle. If that is possible. ​

​

Accepted.

Accepted

​

Accepted

​

Accepted

Michael P. Gavetti
a proud, god-fearing, checkered suited, hair slicked, cigarette lit, gold-plated new yorker.​

Accepted.

​

Accepted

The Händler

(Art by: Connor Bremner)​

Accepted

Lus'tana
The follower

​

(art by skwallie)

Accepted.

Damarco Hikins
„Mute”

​

He was once a Manager for Civil Workers Union in City 24, a place that took away another part of his soul in endless turnings of gears for so called „Benefactors”.

Accepted

THE MANIAC AKA HERO-20​

Accepted

And I watered it in fears.
Night and morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with my smiles.
And with soft deceitful eyes.

And it grew both day and night.
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine…

​

---

​

---

I can still fix it...

​

---

View attachment 20576

​

===========================

Specialist Andrew Flowers
The Deserter
=============

Andrew Flowers, City One, Victor Company. Haphazardly tasked with the upkeep of the quarantine zones dotting the surrounding regions like a plague, be it out of diligent duty, or, more likely, some already forgotten crimes...

Needless to say, that assignment didn't stand the test of time. When the Combine started knocking , everybody with half a brain knew whatever they had in store wouldn't constitute going back - not alive, at the very least.

Far as everyone could see, the writing was already on the wall. Death both ways, but standing your ground meant at least having the dignity to die like a free man... Flowers, however, never quite being a fan of neither a sense of duty, nor last stands, had a completely different idea...

All it took was some friends, supplies, and good timing. Afterwards, he was free to run away as far as eye could see. Flash forward, and the Deserter's path has led him to neither a safe heaven, nor a comfortable life...

Squad mates dead. Supplies gone. Timing...? Timing's still on key. That beautiful lingo on the screen will be his saving grace... He can still fix it, get himself a good life.

Of course, whether or not the coward will manage to outrun his doom is still up to debate.
Especially as something keeps moving through those pretty little crimson leaves...

No, no... After everything he did...
...It can't all be for nothing... Right...?​

Mega-Accepted.

 

[Imperator RAD-X]

The Forsaken Captain
Formerly C1:CpT.HERO-800
HERO


HERO-800 used to have a real name. A real face. A real job. A real life. All of that is gone now, and has been for a while; though it's too prevalent to be wiped with MMR. Through this pain, however, came his best work, a ruthless machine who would kill whoever he saw fit for his "Benefactors"... oh what a fool he was. After the Cataclysm, and the Crimson Mist spread far and wide, the... things 800 gave up his entire being for left. Without a second thought, or any offer or opportunity to be saved with them, just... left to squalor. This broke the finely oiled machine they had crafted with the Captain, the moment Dispatch cut ties and signified they truly weren't coming back. He forsook the mission he had dedicated the last decade and a half of his entire life to, leaving his Units to fend for themselves and attempt to fill the void of power he left when he went solo. The crazed Captain has decided this was the straw that broke the camels back, that he would live up to his name the Exctinctionists donned upon him before leaving him and the rest of their experimental plaything called humanity to rot. He would become a Hero.

Now, he wanders the Crimson Mists brought by The Cataclysm, armed with his trusted shotgun and machete- helping those in need in a vain attempt to appease what the Combine had turned him into.​

Accepted, forgot to add.

 

[Omega]

Accepted, forgot to add.

I was about to be hella depressed LMAO

 

[Landon]

Spoiler: OOC Information

Section One:

Steam ID - https://steamcommunity.com/id/Iandon/
Discord ID - Landon#2591
Timezone - CST

CORPORAL HUANG
" 死比红好。"
​

Yahui Huang used to have aspirations, of climbing the ranks in the societal ladder the Combine set-- and achieving the bounty of transhumanization. This compelled him enough to join the classes of the OAA, just one step away from the fabled position, Yahui served his glorious union well. However, his guidance in the career was short-lived-- and it was all thanks to that fateful day, one which constantly recalls itself in his mind, over and over like a broken record. Sent off near the Russian QZ, with hopes of assisting in the downfall of resistance forces in Moscow, he and many other members of the Ladoga squad had unearthed a ghastly being... and it shows its ugly head to this day, the Dominator. After he narrowingly survived the attack, if one could call watching your brain turn to mush 'surviving', he was whisked off-- called a madman-- by those very same people he used to see as his comrades.

However, he is grateful for their action, as now he knows who he can really trust-- and that everyone else in his way was nothing more than communists, attempting to wreak havoc and destroy the balance Yahui gave his life to maintain. Wasting away in the dilapidated prison cell, he thought; who is he to simply cast the world aside? Everyone needs him. Huang believed himself to be the only thing keeping the world in line, and his rotting away in this OCR only stopped him from achieving his true purpose. With the help of some outer forces, the Combine failed to keep him locked in chains, and he broke out-- but, stumped, he had nowhere else to go. He couldn't stay with the merry band of refugees who escaped from the prison, one of them was surely an informant of the wretched communist spies-- Yahui believed.

And so, he set sail for the Americas-- a place he knew familiar, having since been born there many years ago. During his strenuous trek, he soon saw the skies turn a dark red-- and the fog pollute the Earth once more. The familiar sight brought little fear to the insane man, as he had faced it once before; and he felt himself a conqueror of this evil beast. He knows what he has to do, and that is to bring glory back to the Union. No commie facing themselves as his saviors, or resistance member shall halt him-- he was destined for greatness, and now the ultimate task has come to prove his worth.

Embracing the ideologies of the Combine, or-- as he called it-- the "TRUE Combine", he began to sacrifice flesh and blood throughout his journey. Self-promoting himself into the defunct "OTA", he often salvaged old and unusable parts from the plentiful amount of ACTUAL Transhuman corpses he encountered. It started off small; a finger there, an ear here, but it was never enough for the man. It devolved into horrific, grotesque mutilation of an arm-- an eye, and it seemed to show no limits. Huang's extensive medical knowledge was the only thing that kept him barely afloat from bleeding out, and now he wanders the American wastes-- a horrific display of a man who had truly succumbed to the wretched world. Facility Six has piqued Huang's interest, and he feels it is an opportunity that he cannot waste-- perhaps, this is just the thing he needs to get his Benefactors to notice him.

Once and for all, Huang's purpose has become all-the-ever clear; he will bring the Combine back, or die trying.

 

[Imperator RAD-X]

CORPORAL HUANG
" 死比红好。"​

Accepted.

 

[Dazor]

Steam Name
Dazor
Discord Name
Dazor
Time zone
GMT+1

Spot's backstory is one of tragedy and survival. Once a man with a name and a moral code, he was forced to abandon everything he once knew when the Combine invaded and the Dominator devastated the plains of Earth. The trauma of those events has left him a man out of time, wandering through life with a sense of detachment from the world around him.

The Crimson Mist, a constant reminder of the destruction that has been wrought, plays at the edges of his sanity. But even in the midst of this chaos, Spot sees a kind of beauty. In his eyes, the Dominator is a graceful equalizer, wiping out the structures of power that once held sway over society.

Spot's life has been a long and confusing journey. He started out as a citizen of an oppressive regime, but eventually became an informant, using his knowledge to try and bring down the system from within. He was successful to some extent, but in the end, it was not enough. When the regime fell, Spot found himself adrift in a world that was even more chaotic and dangerous than before.

Wandering for years has taken its toll on Spot. He is no longer the man he once was, and survival has become his primary concern. He no longer cares about what he eats, as long as it keeps him alive. He no longer cares about who he kills, as long as it helps him survive. He has become primitive in his existence, but it's all he knows in this kill or be killed world.

Despite his rough exterior, Spot is not without depth. He carries a heavy burden of guilt and regret for the things he has done in his past. He is not a violent person by nature, but circumstances have forced him to become one. He doesn't go out of his way to harm others, but he won't hesitate to defend himself if necessary.

One day, Spot stumbled upon a group of people who were seeking refuge in an abandoned church. He was reluctant to join them at first, but something about the atmosphere of the church intrigued him. The group welcomed him with open arms, and for the first time in a long time, Spot felt a sense of belonging.

As he spent more time with the group, Spot began to learn about their beliefs in God. He had always been skeptical of religion, but as he listened to their stories and witnessed the way they lived their lives, he began to feel a sense of peace he had never experienced before.

Spot started to read the Bible and attend church services. The more he learned, the more he realized how far he had strayed from his moral code. He started to see the world in a different light, no longer viewing it as a place where only the strongest survived, but as a place of love and compassion.

Slowly but surely, Spot's faith grew. He found himself praying every night, thanking God for keeping him alive and asking for forgiveness for the things he had done. He began to volunteer his time and skills to help the group, and in doing so, he found a new purpose in life.

Although he still struggled with his survival instincts, Spot found comfort in his faith. He believed that God had a plan for him, and that no matter what happened, he would always be there to guide him.

Eventually, the group decided to leave the church and venture out into the world. Spot was hesitant at first, but he knew that with God by his side, he could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

As he journeyed with the group, Spot found himself facing difficult situations with a newfound sense of hope. He no longer saw violence as the only solution to his problems, but instead sought to find peaceful resolutions.

In the end, Spot had found something that had been missing from his life for so long. His faith in God had given him a sense of purpose and direction, and although he knew that the road ahead would not be easy, he was ready to face it with his head held high.

​

 

[Imperator RAD-X]

app

Can you add additional layers to your backstory provided by additional requested efforts?

This is actually to save the difficulty of you creating a character without having to make things up on the spot during the event should people ask more about you.

 

[Dazor]

Can you add additional layers to your backstory provided by additional requested efforts?

This is actually to save the difficulty of you creating a character without having to make things up on the spot during the event should people ask more about you.

I can try later, is just short the now cos I’m in work haha

 

[TheGamingPlumber]

Spoiler: SECTION ONE

Steam ID - STEAM_0:0:49210697
Discord ID - TonyTheTiger#0317
Timezone GMT -5

Spoiler: Reading Music

SECTION TWO
​

<:: TRANSHUMAN ARM RECORDS ::>
<:: LOADING ::>
<:: CLEARANCE CONFIRMED ::>
<:: CONTAINMENT UNIT ECHO-65 ::>
<:: STATUS: UNKNOWN ::>​

As the combine began transhumanizing former members of the now-defunct Earth Military. One of the first of many containment units was designated ECHO-65. It had a stellar track record of duty, having been sent on several missions to control various epidemics and infestations as well as to suppress the human population when necessary.


As time went on, however, the Combine had less use for Containment Units as they created new and improved units. Several detachments of containment units were consequently kept in stasis storage. Either unremembered or awaiting an upgrade. One of the many units left unused and neglected was ECHO-65. But all of that changed when the Crimson Mist began spreading at an alarming rate


Panic gripped the earth as the crimson mist started to engulf cities all across the planet and spread quickly. The Overwatch Forces made every effort to attack it, including sending troops and artillery, but in vain. All that was left behind after the mist passed through seemed to be a barren wasteland. The Combine ordered the departure of all its military and essential personnel.

To counter the growing threat, reserve units that had been stored due to being old and obsolete were activated.

ECHO-65 was activated and designated as a squad leader. 65 and its team was equipped with state-of-the-art equipment and given a new mission. Move a priority target to Citadel Installation Four for evacuation.

ECHO-65 and its team boarded the dropship and began their mission. However, as they were in transit, something went wrong. A massive energy surge disrupted their systems, causing the dropship to crash land.

As the dropship fell out of control and slammed onto the ground, ECHO-65's systems shut down to preserve and restore. When it finally rebooted, it was all alone in the crashed dropship. All of its squadmates were dead, and the operation had failed. The units had been disconnected by the Overwatch AI, leaving them on their own.

While ECHO-65 analyzed the situation, it found an extra stasis pod among the wreckage. It was able to open the pod by stumbling towards it while using its injured limbs to crawl inside. Echo-65 began the hibernation protocol to protect itself until it could be collected and repaired

Days stretched into weeks, and weeks evolved into months while ECHO-65 remained in stasis, waiting for someone to find and recover it. But no one came. The Combine had evacuated all of its military and personnel it deemed worthy as the world outside was being eaten by the Crimson Mist.

It had been preserved for what seemed like an eternity thanks to the stasis pod on ECHO-65. Yet when it intercepted an unknown transmission from Facility Six, the pod automatically released the containment unit. Even though the message was brief, it was sufficient to give ECHO-65 a new order. It gathered its resources and started to go in the direction of the message's origin.



​

 

[Imperator RAD-X]

Spoiler: SECTION ONE

Steam ID - STEAM_0:0:49210697
Discord ID - TonyTheTiger#0317
Timezone GMT -5

Spoiler: Reading Music

SECTION TWO
​

View attachment 20615

<:: TRANSHUMAN ARM RECORDS ::>
<:: LOADING ::>
<:: CLEARANCE CONFIRMED ::>
<:: CONTAINMENT UNIT ECHO-65 ::>
<:: STATUS: UNKNOWN ::>​

View attachment 20616

As the combine began transhumanizing former members of the now-defunct Earth Military. One of the first of many containment units was designated ECHO-65. It had a stellar track record of duty, having been sent on several missions to control various epidemics and infestations as well as to suppress the human population when necessary.


As time went on, however, the Combine had less use for Containment Units as they created new and improved units. Several detachments of containment units were consequently kept in stasis storage. Either unremembered or awaiting an upgrade. One of the many units left unused and neglected was ECHO-65. But all of that changed when the Crimson Mist began spreading at an alarming rate


Panic gripped the earth as the crimson mist started to engulf cities all across the planet and spread quickly. The Overwatch Forces made every effort to attack it, including sending troops and artillery, but in vain. All that was left behind after the mist passed through seemed to be a barren wasteland. The Combine ordered the departure of all its military and essential personnel.

To counter the growing threat, reserve units that had been stored due to being old and obsolete were activated.

ECHO-65 was activated and designated as a squad leader. 65 and its team was equipped with state-of-the-art equipment and given a new mission. Move a priority target to Citadel Installation Four for evacuation.

ECHO-65 and its team boarded the dropship and began their mission. However, as they were in transit, something went wrong. A massive energy surge disrupted their systems, causing the dropship to crash land.

As the dropship fell out of control and slammed onto the ground, ECHO-65's systems shut down to preserve and restore. When it finally rebooted, it was all alone in the crashed dropship. All of its squadmates were dead, and the operation had failed. The units had been disconnected by the Overwatch AI, leaving them on their own.

While ECHO-65 analyzed the situation, it found an extra stasis pod among the wreckage. It was able to open the pod by stumbling towards it while using its injured limbs to crawl inside. Echo-65 began the hibernation protocol to protect itself until it could be collected and repaired

Days stretched into weeks, and weeks evolved into months while ECHO-65 remained in stasis, waiting for someone to find and recover it. But no one came. The Combine had evacuated all of its military and personnel it deemed worthy as the world outside was being eaten by the Crimson Mist.

It had been preserved for what seemed like an eternity thanks to the stasis pod on ECHO-65. Yet when it intercepted an unknown transmission from Facility Six, the pod automatically released the containment unit. Even though the message was brief, it was sufficient to give ECHO-65 a new order. It gathered its resources and started to go in the direction of the message's origin.


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Accepted (Unique Char)

 

[list_s]

C1;i1.HELIX-07
“The Restless”
Its a bright day on the streets of City-1… Helix-07 awakes for his standard patrol, but something is different about this man today, he thirsts for revenge… Revenge for his family… Mother… Father… Sister… Murdered during the Seven Hour War by the Combine… This is the day he loses it… When he finds himself alone with one of his fellow officers, he pulls out his standard issue USP Match, cocks the handle back, and puts a few bullets into the Officer.. He quickly runs away from the situation, finding himself in the sewer system of City-1. He eventually escapes the sewer system into the outskirts of City-1, awaiting for whatever lies on the outside of this hell that he has found. He escapes into these outskirts with his life, his Gun, his identity still hidden, and less of a will to live. What will he find in the outskirts of City-1?

Biography Information:
Real Name: Donovan Saladino
Ethnicity: Italian-American
Family Status: Fractured
Specialization: Medical
Likes: Close Friends, Medicine, Rebels (Ironically), Pizza.
Hates: Combine.
Mental Status: Unstable.

Gear: USP Match, CV-2000 Stunstick, GasMask, Armor Plating.

 

[Imperator RAD-X]

C1:i1.HELIX-07

Biography Information:
Real Name: Donovan Saladino
Ethnicity: Italian-American
Family Status: Fractured
Specialization: Medical
Likes: Close Friends, Medicine, Rebels (Ironically), Pizza.
Hates: Combine.
Mental Status: Unstable.

Accepted (Protector)

 

[Astro]

Steam ID - STEAM_0:1:86837969
Discord ID - Astro#2165
Timezone - GMT-5 (CST/CDT)

After arriving with your band of civilian refugees at an abandoned school, you find a data pad laid across the floor. It has a distinct blood stain at the corner with a singular crack down the screen. Regardless, out of curiosity, you pick it up and power it on. To your surprise, it functions! It briefly blinds you with the light before your eyes adjust. As everyone settles in the moment, or walk off to look over the building, you sit yourself at the front desk on some old roller chair. Then, you come to notice that the datapad was seemingly last on the page of some civil protection officer with their face just aside their information. Out of curiosity, you investigate and continuously tap through.



<:: UNIT DESIGNATION: SHIELD-4 .::>
<:: RANK: RANK LEADER. ::>
<:: STATUS: UNKNOWN.
<:: DATE OF BIRTH: ||||||||||||| ::>
<:: FAMILY COHESION: FRACTURED. ::>
…
…
<:: OPEN MEDICAL RECORDS? Y/N ::>
<:: Y ::>
…
…
…

<:: SHIELD-4 - MENTAL EVALUATION #02 ::>

<:: This mental evaluation is a mandatory evaluation post-MMR to see if the effects have taken hold, or if any side effects are present. As of now, SHIELD-4 has reported mental clarity. Along with this, they have found their ability to perform to be even easier than prior to the MMR. However, reports have shown an increase of physical aggression in-relation to neighboring officers and citizens. These reports have been disregarded, outside observed mental “blockages”. This must be further investigated. ::>



<:: SHEILD-4 - MEDICAL RECORD #06 ::>

<:: Subject SHIELD-4; a Civil Protection rank leader, presents today with chronic fatigue and migraines. Scans remain marginally inconclusive with discovery of a benign tumor residing on their liver. After a brief excision of the tumor, they have been put back on-duty with a low dose of morphine to be taken at the beginning of each shift. Withdrawal or addiction is required to be noted, they are to be actively observed. ::>
…
…
…

<:: OPEN FUNCTIONARY DETAILS? Y/N ::>
<:: Y ::>

<:: INSERT MINISTRY OF PROTECTION CREDENTIALS::>
<:: USERNAME: Mendez64
<:: PASSWORD: ******* ::>

The data pad conveniently auto-fills the password and username. You continue forward.

<:: NAME: JACKSON RITHMER. ::>
<:: DATE OF BIRTH: 09/11/88. ::>
<:: PLACE OF ORIGIN: NEBRASKA, UNITED STATES. ::>
<:: LAST KNOWN LOCATION: CITY-1. ::>
<:: REPORTED ASPIRATIONS: “Comradery, Family.” ::>


A man forced to survive amongst his peers and enemies. A man who must survive against all odds, all matters of life and those who are not of this world. This man who originally had the comforts of working in an office, was thrown into the Civil Protection program and thrusted through the ranks against his own will. Unknown to all, his cancer had spread. Now, his own body is trying to kill itself, feasting off his brain. It is unlikely he will survive, but the question is, what will kill him? The tumor, or something else?

“<:: My head is killing me. ::>”