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 The Division Role-Play

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DualThrone
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PostSubject: The Division Role-Play   Fri Aug 05, 2016 12:25 am

{This thread has been officially sanctioned and approved by DualThrones, but Zain is the boss in all respects. Enjoy.}
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Loumber

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PostSubject: Re: The Division Role-Play   Fri Aug 05, 2016 7:09 am

For those who aren't familiar with the Division protocol, let me explain. It's 2016, black friday, Manhattan. Millions in cash trade hands as the sales start. But some of that money contained an modified small pox virus. It took few days before the influence broke up, hospitals were filled with sick or even dying people. Week passed and sick ones started to die. To stop the disease from spreading, goverment decided to build a walls around heavily contained eareas, and even the Manhattan was blocked off. No one should out or in. Riots broke out, law enforcements as medical personel, police forces and fire department who were trapped inside, were the target. As the medical personel were valuable for their skills, they were often spared, captured and forced to work for the rioters, but the fire debartment and police forces... They were the target. Few squads of military personel was also send in via choppers, but they were quickly ran over by the rioters.

Here is where the Division protocol kicks in. Sleeper agents, working alongside with any of us, were called in. They abandoned their jobs, their homes, their lives when the goverment needed them. They were heavily trained personel, by the best of every subject. Hand-to-hand combat, first aid, marksmen/scouting and weapon handling with military tactics. First wave, to gather every remaining officer, soldier and paramedic in one location, the city hall. But they failed. It took only few days before all 30 of them took down, either moving to the safety of contained areas which weren't observed by drones, or MIA. They were never marked as KIA, never before the actual corpse was found.

The Second wave had just approached, 6 weeks after the outbreak. The Manhattan was a mess. Stronger would survive, weaker would submit or die. As the chopper was about to land down, containing another 30 of Division Agents, the choppers rotor jammed, and the chopper crashed. Something had caused it. The wreck fell to the southern docs. And this is where we start.
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Loumber

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PostSubject: Re: The Division Role-Play   Fri Aug 05, 2016 7:21 am

So, how this would start: You can be one of three starting 'classes'. Agents on either First, marked as MIA and being either rogue agent, barely better than rioter, or Second wave, survivor of the crash. You can also be an citizen, an neutral faction who just try to survive in this harsh, hostile filled ground by searching, looting and pillaging. Or one of the Rioter groups, going around and hunting after remaining law forces, taking parts of Manhattan over from different groups, basically enslaving the citizens.

About the gear: First and Second wave agents would only have an sidearm. The primary one would been broken, lost or out of ammunation. Nothing too overpowered, either. They are equipted with backpack with the basic stuff to sruvive for few days. But, as they have encountered alot of bad things, you would most likely be harmed at someway.

Citizens with weak sidearm or melee weapon, and with anything they can salvage. Again, not powerfists.

Rioters with mostly melees, but with more protective gear, facemasks and bodyarmors ebough to stop shivs. And alot of bad attidute.

How you can start when hopping in? Give little background about your character, just few lines who he/she was before the outbreak, and how they got after the outbreak where they are. Descripe the gear of what they would have and the looks of the them. And, you are ready to start.

How the combat goes: So, if possible, someone else than you are playing as opponent you might be facing. But no magic bullets, infinite ammos or pain resistance. Those are still a thing.


Let the games begin!
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PostSubject: Re: The Division Role-Play   Fri Aug 05, 2016 7:30 am

Before. Such a simple and solitary word and yet with so much meaning. Before, Serafine Drake had been the two-minutes-older twin of a sister who looked nearly perfectly identical to her, and yet was her mirror image in personality and talents. Before, Sera was the one to break noses while Delphine sat placidly off to a side with a sketchpad, drawing a world only she could see. Before, Sera was the first daughter of a wealthy family who had no love or use for their twin daughters and over time and the arrival of the son they preferred, descended into flagrant abuse. Before, the pair had been taken out of their home by a reclusive family friend who was both virtually unknown to the larger world and vastly more powerful than their birth parents. Before, Sera and Del found in 'Momma Mary' everything they could ask for in a mother, and a hoard of siblings besides. Before, Momma had given both of them their wings and Sera had soared right into a security firm for her regular job and enthusiastic participation with the National Guard whenever the opportunity allowed. Before, Sera had moved to the Big Apple, where the streets were paved with gold, the bright shining center of all that was America, and looked forward to socking away piles of money from her regular job so she could pursue the career in the military she always had hoped for. Before, she had practically eschewed any outside friendships so she could learn the skills she believed would make her attractive to a recruiter. Before the sickness. Before the evacuations. Before the riots, and the lockdown, and the quarantine, and the fighting, and waking up to an empty apartment building and realizing that all the skills she'd read about in books were about to become useful for keeping her alive. Before all that happened, Sera had a lot to look forward to, or so she thought. But that was before; this is after.

Serafine stirred awake as the morning dawned in quarantine-locked Manhattan. For the briefest moment, it was an ordinary day: the smells were the same as normal Manhattan, the lack of sound at daybreak was the same, and there was even a certain familiarity about the light beaming in. But gradually, her brain informed her that if this was normal Manhattan, she'd be waking up before dawn as a fuckwit neighbor's kids started laughing and screeching as they were kicked out of bed to get ready for school. There'd be a pounding from above as an overweight person on the next floor tromped around getting ready for a day sitting on his ass watching a parking lot, and light vibrations from the "music artist" at the far end of the building would be detectable. Here in abnormal Manhattan, none of those people were around anymore, and so none of them made sounds. Sera takes in a long deep breath and rolls out of bed, tilting her head  back and forth and popping a couple joints as she stretched her  lingerie-clad form comfortably. With no neighbors, no one was around to be creepy about her virtual nudity, and even weeks in she liked to treasure the little things like being able to ditch virtually every social nicety. But there there was little point in wandering around in the buff so she slipped into some short jean shorts and a t-shirt and climbed out of her fire escape to make the trek up to the roof. The one useful thing the former residents had done (besides leave more useful things in their apartments than she'd been able to think of a use for) was get a stick in their collective asses about "locally grown produce" and then obligingly leave all the essential components behind when they left. It would be some time before anything was grown, of course, but nothing would grow at all without zealous attention and the first priority every morning was to pay the gardens that zealous attention. She was halfway up the fire escape to the roof when she remembered a vital detail and trekked back down to her apartment to get it. The next time she climbed the stairs, her Beretta went with her. Granted, it wasn't legal for her to have that Beretta, especially since it was a 93R type, but there was literally no longer any police to care, but plenty of looters and rioters who would care whether she was armed or not. She wished that it was practical to haul the Model 97 up and down the stairs but it was far better squirreled away in a corner of her living space. Up atop the roof, she checked the plants, caring for them as well as she knew how to, and then trekked down the stairs to start her morning elliptical. The first weapon is the body, or so that amusing book about how to fight a zombie outbreak maintained, but even if the advice was silly, the idea of remaining in good health and good shape had obvious merit, and Sera stripped off her shirt to get to it.
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PostSubject: Re: The Division Role-Play   Fri Aug 05, 2016 9:24 am

Before she’d been activated, Cryie, had lived a rather simple life. The White-coated snow leopard was a nurse at a hospital in New York, and had seen everything. Gunshot wounds, knife wound, dislocated shoulders, dicks stuck together with the Chinese finger trap. That was before Manehatten, before everything happened. She knew it was coming, she’d always known it was coming, but the flashing light still caught her by surprise. Activation for the Division. So she did as she was ordered. Armed with a 50 calibre Barrett Sniper rifle, an Australian F-88 A1 Steyr AUG Assault rifle and a 9mm Pistol, she’d been part of the first line, one of thirty, sent in to save officials.

Cryie’s eyes shot open as the panic that had consumed her, slowed. She’d fallen asleep, and as she looked at her left leg, she knew why. Almost a week ago, she’d gotten shot through the leg. But all accounts she’d been lucky, the bullet missed anything important and had passed through. But what she hadn’t been lucky with, was that the bullet was contaminated, and she had gained an infection as a result of being shot. Part of her had considered lobbing her leg off, except that she’d die, lacking much of the proper medical equipment she needed. The apartment she’d picked as her home wasn’t far from the local hospital, but said hospital was the hold outs of a local gang, and injured, she had no intention to become a puppet before she died. Forcing herself up stand, she limped into her kitchen, her icey blue eyes looking over the supplies she’d stolen since abandoning her mission. She’d gathered plenty canned food, the non-canned was already off or risking infection. While there was a chance of infection with everything she did, she had to risk it to eat. Slowly, she turned the gas on, and began preparing soup.

The apartment she’d picked was like any other, part of a large complex. On the 5th floor facing a street, if anyone looked through the blinds, they’d occasionally see her head popping up, but Cryie felt safe. Not only was her room locked, but who would look on an apartment building with nearly 20 floors, and stare at the 5th until she showed the tips of her ears? And even if they did, they’d never know what floor, or room, until she killed them. When the girl first arrived, she rewired all the cameras to her room, meaning one simply thing. Nothing happened in her apartment block without her knowing.
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PostSubject: Re: The Division Role-Play   Fri Aug 05, 2016 10:27 am

After graduating from college Fall worked as an graphic designer as freelancer in Boston. He had... Well, more cases would be nice. But his whole life changed when he was selected in the Division Protocal as recruit, one of ten from Boston. Every major city of America had at least ten sleeper agents, they had said. The training was rough, four months of physical stress, mental tests and all of that new knowledge... But he did pass. And got his orders. He was on standby, and they would signal him when in need. Weeks passed as this red fox, only 24 of age, was doing his freelance stuff, reading and watching news, and then it began... The outbreak of unknown virus... Manehatten closing up... He knew, that he would be debloyed... Second wave, they had said... Second wave.

Fall opened his eyes. Only humming and darkness. Slowly slight moving, yellowish light surrounded him... And he remembered. "Mayday, mayday, this is Hawk 2-2-4-1, we are going down, I repeat, we are go-..." and silence... Heavy bumb before it... The motors cutted of, co-pilot had said. He made his best to hold on as they went down, not everyone were so lucky. One of the Agents, next to him fell from the chopper as it started to spin... He... He tried... He tried to push himself up but... He fell down right away. Something was wrong. His ability to hear was coming back. Cracking of fire. Flickering flames. He had to move, the wreck of chopper could still explode. He moved only by dragging himself with his right arm. As soon as he reached an nearby building, shaft of somesort... He pushed himself against the wall and turned around. The wreck of chopper... Pieces of metal... Scattered bodies... Was he the only one alive? No... H-he couldn't be... He traced one of bloody trails to... Himself. He looked to his left shoulder... It was... It was twisted... Dislocated... Bleeding... He-he had to take control of his mind. He... Needed to focus. To make it move. To make it stop bleeding.

He groaned heavily as the pain was starting to kick in. He ripped an piece of his white tank top from under his blue hooded jacket. Blood staining his dark cargopants and combat shoes. He slowly stood up and turned to face the corner of the wall. He leaned his left shoulder against it as he took few times quickly breath, and leaned heavily forward, groaning in pain as his shoulder gave a little grutting as he forcefully relocated it... He howled in pain as he fell down, holding the shoulder. He laid on the ground, slight traces of tears stained his dusty face... He soon slowly rolled to his side and began to roll the cloth around his shoulder. He... Had to continue... He... Had to get out there... Slowly he stood up, leaning against the wall as he held his shoulder. He... Had to keep moving...
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PostSubject: Re: The Division Role-Play   Fri Aug 05, 2016 12:30 pm

At the sound of the explosion, Cryie reached for the side-arm on her hip, tucked nearly in its holster. Limping over to the window, she peered out of it and looked around. She couldn't see the cause of it, but it sounded far away as to not bother her.
"Fuckin' Rebels" she muttered to herself, dragging herself back to her kitchen and checking on her soup, which was coming along nicely "One of these days, when the army breaks in here and fucking kills these rioters, they'll finally see what their stupidity gets them" Despite the contradiction of her statement, that being she is one not doing anything to stop the violence, she went back to cooking herself a form of breakfast. She knew she'd need to find anti-biotics and soon. She hadn't checked the 20th floor...maybe she'd get lucky.
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PostSubject: Re: The Division Role-Play   Fri Aug 05, 2016 12:42 pm

Fall panted heavily as he moved against the walls. The bleeding had stopped but he was still in really weak condition, and needed stitching up. Slowly Fall moved his paw to the hip holster, pulling out his .45 acp pistol as he skanned the area around him... If they found him now, he would be dead aswell. He had lost his RK rifle in the crash, and he didn't have time to look for it. He had to take a break soon... He started to push the doors open as he moved past them, attempting to find even one which wasn't bolted shut or blocked.

Soon he found one, only five storied building. At the first floor it seemed to be an coffee shop of somekind, having no windows anymore, dark stains on the counter and everything usefull salvaged... This was the sign of apocalypse, he thought. He slowly to the backroom and into the storage room. It had been cleaned from stuff aswell. He was sad about loosing his rifle, yes. But the backpack, it could save his life right now... He pushed one of the doors open, leading to messed up stairways. Slowly, raising his pistol which was ready for the action, he started to move up against the walls. He cleared the first floor, room after room, apartment after another. Nothing. As he began to make sure that the second floor was clear, he felt it hit on him... Word started to spin, his vision blurring. His shoulder was on fire, it felt... He had to rest... He had to take care of that wound... He quickly, almost just pushed the doors open of rest of the apartments before moving into one of them and straight to the bathroom. Luckily the mirror gabinet was still intact. He began to search throught it... Sleeping pills, no. If he fell asleep now, he would never wake back up... Roll of proper bandage and painkillers. He gladly gulped up the pain killers, sipping a little water from his canteen as he leaned against the sink, waiting the spinning to stop...
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PostSubject: Re: The Division Role-Play   Mon Aug 08, 2016 3:08 pm

The girl continued on her food, while canned soup wasn't full of taste. It would keep her body going, which was all she cared about at the current moment in time. Today would be like any other, cook some food, operate on herself where she could, maybe read some more of the novel she found in the aprtments, then sleep. Until she was healed, she was going no where. She glanced at her cameras often, an instinct she'd trained into herself, and soon something caught her eyes. A fox staggering into a building across the way. She raised her eyebrows, he appeared injured,although how was beyond her. Still, she watched with curiousity as he moved into the short building across the ways. She had indeed searched their for supplies, the first floor at least, not risking the higher ones that early on.

"Odd, why would anyone be in this area alone? That is far from common" she muttered to herself, before noticing her food was ready and set herself on the kitchen table, her monatar resting on the table as she looked at the building through the camera, wondering what the individual was doing in that apartment block alone...
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PostSubject: Re: The Division Role-Play   Mon Aug 08, 2016 3:38 pm

Fall screamed against the cloth in his mouth, out of pure agony. He had just penetrated his skin with an needle, in attempt to self stitch. His paws were shaking as other one held the needle, slowly pushing it back up on other side of his injury on shoulder. It had been made by... Maybe something sharp flying... He thanked the gods that he took his infection shot before deployment, lowering greatly the change for it to get infected. He groaned again as he pushed it back in, blood dripping down to the sink against his other paw, supporting him and basically keeping him up. His legs were shaking, his forehead dripping cold sweat and tears flowing down against his cheeks again. He had never encountered anything like this... But it had to be done...

He managed, slowly to stitch it close. How, it was beyond him. He fell down as soon as he had knotted the string and cutting the remaining of from hanging. He leaned back against the wall, heavily panting. The blood was still slightly dripping past slight caps between the stitches, and he ripped another piece of his tank top to warp it tightly against his shoulder. He rested his head back against the wall. And gave himself time, time to fall asleep, to rest... To gain much needed strenght...
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