Silenced City

[Divine]

• Steam Name: Divine
• Steam ID: STEAM_0:0:63629212
• Discord Name & ID: ._divine.

- Section Two -

• Character name / Tagline: Aleksanteri Väinö / C62:i1.YELLOW-5 - C18:i1.YELLOW-5 prior to C62 assignment.
• Role: Civil Protection: i1
• Short (or detailed) character backstory:
• 
  
• Spoiler: YELLOW-5

  • ​
  • ​

  [*]Being a middle-aged man, Väinö's life has been split in two. In his younger years he was an average man who worked in journalism; a local news reporter. A man with humble beginnings, who filled his empty time with hunting, sketching, and other nature-related activities. He was no recluse, and was nearly an idol in his low population town. He had goals of leadership, and sought a career in politics. A mayoral candidate who lost his race - not to an opponent but the Combine invasion causing him to bring up arms.
  
  After seven fruitless hours, he surrendered with his other townsfolk who weren't dead yet, and tried to rally the people to forfeit themselves to the Combine so no further blood would be spilt. He may have very well rallied them straight into the first instances of Civil Protection, which led him to enlistment some time later - leading by example and bravery to start, though slowly leading down the path of brutality and narcissism both because of the Overwatch AI threatening his family's wellbeing, but the mental anguish of this new life. Changed by war, and threatened when he showed too much care to his subordinates. He still helped where he could, so even with his years of service he was never elevated to Rank Leader or Captaincy.
  
  Though his service as Civil Protection brought him across the world, he finally ended up back in his home country. What's better in a combat zone then a man who knows the land and potential language of the resistance? Not to mention, the chaos... The Overwatch got the 'vital assets' out, and left the Intention One who strayed too much to his death; a suicide mission alongside new units.
• 
  
  Name your character's favorite activity: Sketching nature, buildings, and animals... As long as he isn't seen by Overwatch.​

 

[Dazor]

- APPLICATION FORMAT -

- Section One -
​

Steam Name: Dazor

Steam ID:

Discord Name & ID [On Short Stories Discord (You are required to join it to participate)]: Dazor/dazors

- Section Two -
​

Character name / Tagline: SHIELD-3

Role (+Rank if Civil Protection/CCR): i3

Short (or detailed) character backstory: The man now known as SHIELD-3 is a selfish, manipulative, son of a bitch. Originally signing up it Civil Protection as a means to live a comfortable life in this dystopian hell-hole. Unlike others, he understood the hopelessness of trying to be compassionate and help others. Once upon a time before the occupation he was most definitely a good man, but now he understood that isn’t possible in this world now.

However, it’s not like he is a sadistic menace who beats people unnecessarily. It isn’t about power or control but simple living. The anarchy in the Silenced City works makes the job better rather than worse. Now able to smoke, drink and end indulge in all other pleasures is a god-send for him; and with a weapon by his side the world is his oyster.

Notably, Shield-3 has become non-conforming with his attire. A recent injury to his face has left the left side of his face and helmet badly scarred.

Name your character's favourite activity: Smoking and drinking.

 

[Marco]

Spoiler: OOC Information

Steam Name:

marco

Steam ID:

STEAM_0:0:39958603

Discord Name & ID [On Short Stories Discord (You are required to join it to participate)]

Marco.7184

Asbjorn Nikula

Traitor to all of man, Kinslayer, Amoral, Brutal.

Father of three, Husband, Hero, Trustworthy, Guardian of Sixty-Two.

A hunter, bearing Finnish and Icelandic roots, thirty nine years old.



Born in Laugar, 1981, yet moving to Finland only a year later. He learnt Icelandic and Finnish upon command of his Father, a harsh figure upon his youth. Demanding strength and pride from his only son. An academic nightmare, despite his multilinguity, a stark contrast to his talent for hunting game. Unmatched even for locals within the Alavus Countryside. Whether it be pure talent or a result of learning from a young age. He learnt how to handle a hunting rifle, to make himself blend with the environment, and how to quickly kill his prey. He felled his first deer when he was ten years of age. The rifle dislocated his shoulder as the bullet kicked through both his shoulder and the creatures neck.

My shoulder cried in pain, tears flowing from my eyes and a groan following afterwards. My father rushed. Not to me, but to the bleeding dear. He shouts, reprimanding me for a messy shot, not even sparing a second glance to my inflammed shoulder. He stomps over, pushing me to the ground. Slandering me as a disappointment. He pushed me to the ground, my shoulder clicking into place as it pinches a nerve on the way, causing yet another cry, it didn't hurt as badly as when he hit me though. Why was my papa being so mean? Mother always told me to fight back. She said not against loved ones though.

When was the last time he said he loved me?

The boy picked the rifle from the forest ground, pulling the chambering bolt back.

"Did you ever love me?"

He didn't come home that night.
​

---

I saw a woman, one so beautiful that I couldn't stop staring. I didn't know how to talk to her. Those amber eyes looked back at mine, piercing through my heart. I've never felt this way before. She looked stunning. A contrast to myself, as if I was stranded in the wild for the duration of my life. I looked away, and she approached. She smelt of the forest, of Roses and Lavendar. Her skin smoother than the Winter Snow, her smile brighter than the sun. The woman of my dreams, able to fix my broken soul. She cared. With nothing else running through my mind, I remembered my mother's last words and spoke them.

"I love you."
​

---

What would you sacrifice for family?

What makes a life more important than another?

These questions he asked himself as he killed the freedom fighters of Greater Finland. The combine granted him luxury, granted him security. The ability to put his skills to use. He managed to meet his wife again. Yet he felt it was off, did she love him anymore? After what he did? After the secrets he kept from her? The six years before the Combine came were the greatest years of his life. Even through the Portal Storms, he kept them safe. When the portal storms reigned, he killed those creatures that lurked in the forest. His resolve maintained by blind love, for that of his Wife and Children.

"What were their names?"

He was happy he could continue protecting them, he wanted them to be happy. His head started aching as he thought about his family. He knew they were there, he knew what was and what is, yet something was missing. He knew it. Her name, he knew her name. Why couldn't he say it, why couldn't he think of it? He injected a syringe into his leg, and the pain went away.
​

---

I listen to the grim news delievered. The City was under-attack. Not any rebels, the situation deteroriated to the extent we needed their help. The foes weren't any normal aliens either, the likes of Gonomes and Antlions were manageable, this was far beyond even Overwatch.. I would've thought that a crazy thought, yet bullets barely hold them back. They tore down the Suppression walls, wreaking havoc among the outer-districts of City Sixty-two. The Captain stares at me, expecting a response. My second side-eyes me, the hesitant delay of my response causing a stifling atmosphere within the watchtower. I lay my finger on a section of the map. Explaining a plan that not even I myself believe will work, yet they go through with it.

A bridge leading into the city is destroyed, delaying the enemy from breaking through and reinforcing the surface garrison. Yet the issue returns underground in concentrated force, the underground Resistance being instantly routed and sent above ground. The issue deteroriated into chaos as they broke into the city. I climbed into a transport truck, and drove through the chaos to the garrison with what VIPs I could gather.

Upon his arrival, a pair of dropships arrived carrying the Captain and Vice-Administrator off to areas unknown, relaying their last orders to him.

"Defend. Defend what you can 'Hunter'. We will come back for you."

​

 

[The Sniper]

- Section One -

Spoiler: OOC Information

Steam Name: The Sniper
Steam ID: STEAM_0:1:6533079
Discord Name & ID [On Short Stories Discord (You are required to join it to participate)]: Kaisler #3325

- Section Two -

Spoiler: Madness of reason, and reason of madness

Character name / Tagline:

Richard Travis Wilde

Role (+Rank if Civil Protection/CCR):

Former T-7 Collaborator, Expedition Leader (Nightfall), Survivor of the Failed Expedition

Short (or detailed) character backstory:

Spoiler: Nightfall

It is more than twenty years ago that his family perished during the evacuation of 2005. His desire to relent and submit to solidify his position was only strengthened by the belief of his dead family. Advancing high within the echelons of the new state, his background as a forensic scientist; a wild roamer in Texas and a hobby for science and nature had made Richard Wilde into a well-established Tier-7 Collaborator, operating over a variety of departments across continental Europe, mostly City 13 and then the cities in Germany due to his multitude of abilities and usages for the regime.

His life was his devotion to the Occupant, those who had given him everything. Filling a gaping void in his own traumas. For had it not been he? Who had left them that night ahead, in belief that the evacuation busses would make it in time to pick them up He hadn't been the greatest father, despite his genius.. mostly neglecting them before the war with his interests and life taking priority. Sometimes, he’d think about them... drinking his fancy wine and food, unlike those below. It wouldn't be long however, that the news suddenly dropped.

The appearance of his family had caused a rockade, due to his *apparent* daughter being designated a malingant and an Anti-Citizen in City 24 due to active terrorism against the new state. Angry, either at the loss of his status and his legitimacy within this new hierarchy... then the news of his youngest son, his death in the former United States. His son, designated as an "Anti-Citizen" was transported to an unknown location after a failed attack on a Combine facility and was bound on the razor trains - only for him never to make it there. Labled as dead in the train accident; the status of Richard Travis Wilde had begun to fall from grace.

Being the first to sign himself up, despite his still rather high-rank - he couldn't gamble for it to hold unless proven otherwise. All the while, the thoughts began to gnaw at him, pondering upon his children's sudden appearances after believed them to be dead. Was it all a ploy by rivals? Or had it been a lie? A lie told over and over again, for him to believe... no matter the case, he'd re-establish his prestige and honour with this expedition and then... perhaps seek after these imposters that claim to be his children.

Post Nightfall

As the Rank-Leader revealed his betrayal, the massacre had begun. The ritual hadn't even properly ended before blood had begun to spill in the old bunker once housing the survivors of the valley. As blood and gore started to fester and evil only one's imagination could properly understand began to take a hold; chaos and death lingering in the darkness. Wilde, left on the floor heavily wounded - began to crawl for his life. As he who once had been a human behind a mask, now converging into a nightmarish entity began to fester on those brave enough to try and make a stand, Wilde managed to escape with two others - survivors of the Valley. Into the unknown and destitute wilderness that no one had traversed in a long time.

Even as weeks or even months passed by, the struggle to survive remained. It had been purely by luck that he had managed to survive, or was it the machinations of the evil he had seen in the valley? Whatever the cause, no one could turn back now. No one could reverse the memory of what had happened. The Eldritch horror that one's mind is unable to comprehend remains as a glimmering memorial of the slain and the wicked. You think you'd make it out alive? No one makes it out alive. This ain't living. For we have seen the God's of those in the past, there are worse things out there than the ones who subjugated us. Even if you made it out, or so you think - you are still there, trapped forever.

Nothing can reverse what has already begun. The decay of humanity, the decay of one's self. You stand to look at yourself in the mirror, but the reflection is not you. It has never been you - for this body of ours is nothing but a vessel. And if you do not thread carefully - the pits of Hell will open beneath your feet and swallow you whole. Nothing is changed, for whatever you choose to do - it still lingers with you, forever. There is no going back, there is no future - there is only the past and the present..


Name your character's favorite activity:

Reading, Tracking & Hunting, Surviving, Memories of a family long gone, Ending the Nightmare.​

 

[Lekoboi]

Spoiler: ooc nerd shit

Steam Name:
Lekoboi

Steam ID:
https://steamcommunity.com/profiles/76561198943794733/

Discord Name & ID [On Short Stories Discord (You are required to join it to participate)]:
Leko
lekoboi

Kole Parks
The Redneck


Your Average Slummer.

Born in South Carolina and raised on a homestead by his two hillbilly parents, Parks learned useful skills for his upcoming slum life under the Combine occupation. He was often relocated between Europe and Africa due to his activity in the slums being viewed as "suspicious" by Civil Protection. After several relocations between the remaining American and Canadian urban centers, he ended up in Combine-occupied Boston, City Sixteen. Annoyed by the still predominantly Yankee-Bostonian population, he decided he needed to get out of there quickly. So, he signed up for whatever Conscript Reserve existed at the time. He lasted in the Conscripts for a few months before being discharged and relocated to Europe. For about a decade, he unwillingly explored almost every city on the continent, many of which he hadn’t even known existed. He was eventually relocated to City 62, which wasn’t much of a burden since he had already been there. He stayed there for a couple of months before the crisis. Being a simple slummer, his fate would soon surely be decided...

Parks loves Fishing, playing his Banjo which he somehow managed to smuggle with him throughout the years, and also being a Troublemaker.​

 

[tsaoT]

Spoiler: What do we have left to be so happy about?

<:: The suit's not half as thick as it should be. Maybe it's meant to keep us awake. ::>

Spoiler: - Section One -

Steam Name: tsaoT
Steam ID: STEAM_0:1:42303776
Discord Name & ID [On Short Stories Discord (You are required to join it to participate)]: tsaoT (answer to both)

Spoiler: - Section Two -

Character name / Tagline: PATROL-54

Role (+Rank if Civil Protection/CCR): Civil Protection Intention 4

Short (or detailed) character backstory: A Finnish native through-and-through... but clearly not enough to go and tag-along with the Lions and their resistance, given he formed up with the Civil Protection of City 62 as soon as he had the chance.

Prone to bouts of nervousness that he thought might preclude him from its ranks, they ended up working in his favour as a member of Civil Protection, as it just meant he was more inclined to look at a group and think the worst; a thing very-much to the combine's benefit. Not that such a position lasted very long before... well. Everything.

And when it falls apart around you; you, a jumble of fear eager to pull the trigger on anything that looks just a little bit too non-human, any noise that sounds a little bit too unnatural?

That trait keeps one living.

Name your character's favorite activity: Poetry. Destroyed shortly after it's written- if it was written in the first place. Wouldn't want anybody interpreting it as anti-Combine, after all.

 

[Bi-Em 2.0]

- Section One -

• Steam Name: Bi-Em
• Steam ID: STEAM_0:1:116393258
• Discord Name & ID [On Short Stories Discord (You are required to join it to participate)]: Bi-Em / bi_em420

- Section Two -

• Character name / Tagline: Stanisław Łakowski
  • Short (or detailed) character backstory:
    
    The voices won't stop..
    
    They won't stop begging him to open the door.. To let them in..To let all of them in...
    
    No..No....
  • He can't listen to them...they are not there anymore...It is not them...no...no...
    
    Stanisław searches the cabinets, making a mess of his already dirty little shelter, he made for himself.
    
    This was once a operational room, those that got heavily injured? ..Well they ended up in here, with hope's that their Tier of Loyality was high enough, to get a good treatment.
    
    But they never were given it..
    
    The door ... it keeps on being banged on by them..but how could they? Their hands were no longer there, all of them got ripped to shreds.
    
    Their screams when it happen..it is there again.
  • 
    Paper's scatter around the room, shallow breathing emits from Stanisław, as he finally finds what he been looking for..
    
    Simple small syringe that will shut the voices for a while, like it has done already so many times in the past.
    
    The voices and banging becomes louder as the tip of it comes closer to his arm.
    
    His head hurts as the voices scream, all of them begging to open this goddamn door..but soon enough they are gone.
    
    One by one they vanish.
    
    Stanisław sits against the wall, as sweat pours down his forehead...
    
    Finally, it is silent again..
    
    The room is silent..
    
    The Clinic is silent..
    
    The Bodies outside are silent..
    
    The City is silent.
    
    
    
    
  • Name your character's favorite activity: Keeping the voices silent.

 

[Omega]

- Section One -

• Steam Name: Omega
• Steam ID: STEAM_0:1:70142626
• Discord Name & ID [On Short Stories Discord (You are required to join it to participate)]: agemorb

"Give me Liberty, or give me Death!"
- KING-15 quoting Patrick Henry, upon discussing the prospects of 'going home'.
​

- Section Two -

• Character name / Tagline: Joseph McKay / C31:i5.KING-15
• Role (+Rank if Civil Protection/CCR): Veteran
• Short (or detailed) character backstory: After getting into a fist fight with his superiors, KING-15 (also known as Joseph McKay) was assigned to the "Wolf Regiment" as punishment- with the intention of his death. However, through his willpower and astute nature he had somehow prevailed, wandering the wastes of Greenland after declaring his loyalties to HELIX-03.
• Name your character's favorite activity: Fishing, Shooting.

 

[LyingFox]

- Section One -

• Steam Name: Omega
• Steam ID: STEAM_0:1:70142626
• Discord Name & ID [On Short Stories Discord (You are required to join it to participate)]: agemorb

"Give me Liberty, or give me Death!"
- KING-15 quoting Patrick Henry, upon discussing the prospects of 'going home'.
​

- Section Two -

• Character name / Tagline: Joseph McKay / C31:i5.KING-15
• Role (+Rank if Civil Protection/CCR): Veteran
• Short (or detailed) character backstory: After getting into a fist fight with his superiors, KING-15 (also known as Joseph McKay) was assigned to the "Wolf Regiment" as punishment- with the intention of his death. However, through his willpower and astute nature he had somehow prevailed, wandering the wastes of Greenland after declaring his loyalties to HELIX-03.
• Name your character's favorite activity: Fishing, Shooting.

15:

 

[boots]

- Section One -​

• Steam Name: boots
• Steam ID: STEAM_0:1:194599358
• Discord Name & ID: @swaats

- Section Two -​

​

• Character Name: Yang Li | C12:i2.DEFENDER-4
• Role: i2
• Character Backstory:
• An estemeed member of the protectorate, hailing his origins from the People's Republic of China. A common ally of the Soviets and proudly hanging its red banner. Now commonly known as City 12; he grew up in the slums of Macau, a towering pillaging block of shanty houses built from the scraps of whatever its inhabitants could find amongst the rubble. What started as a small commune of poor farmers quickly grew into a bustling city teeming with crime. A culturally rich place, not without its woes but also not missing its charm.
  
  His English is poor, and morals lacking, they will do anything to survive the predicant they find themselves in. Not quick to turn his cloak without cause however, for he recognizes there are strengths in numbers and power amongst his kin.
• Name your character's favorite activity: Perfecting his English vocabulary, commonly seen digging into a dictionary which he carries around like his bible.