I'll update this as much as they do, hopefully. The general idea. Were a spec ops force undercover in there stories doing more than anyone would ever expect.
Don't mind the shitload of character bios.
Me/ RUiN obviously. Short but fearless. Long curly brown hair. Amazing leader. Hates to be disobeyed. Great driver and good undercover since his job binds him. Carries anything he can take but prefers his silenced m9 and machete. Likes to make everything bloody. All in all a crazy twisted man.
name: bubbles
Bubbles suffers from a split personality syndrome, often clashing with his other personality "ghostly".
Despite this bubbles is an expert archer and carries lot's of handy things that are very usefull. Until ghostly takes over and starts attacking everyone. >_>
Floydyboy (or just Floyd)
-Tall and thin. Short brown hair with a ponytail. Male (in case you're wondering). Good with computers and anything mechanical. Sucks at driving, no questions asked. Likes video games, and lives on a diet of pure sugar. Also likes to kill noobs. Prefers to get up close and personal, except with something huge and ugly girls.
I use a Desert Eagle pistol, a machete/katana (whatever you think would suit me better) and a customized "Noob Hunter" shotgun.
Sumfink:
Seems to have ties to a great power outside SPP, though obscure within it. Some enemies recognize him and seem to be terrified of him, but they are always silenced before they can reveal anything about his past. No weapon visible, but on rare occasions where he has to fight, he is seen wielding a large, blunt object that can never be glimpsed long enough to be identified... a lamp, perhaps? Shows respect to his enemies, avoids killing as much as possible (not including noobs), though he has no reservations about disarming/disabling. Doesn't say much, and what he says doesn't give away anything. Has never raised his voice. Can usually talk his way out of a bad situation. Sometimes refers to himself in the third person.
Excellent at controlling his emotions, rarely smiles, can always tell when a teammate is injured, seems to know what you're thinking. Slightly shorter than average, long brown hair, always wears a plain blue T-shirt and jeans regardless of weather as he is not affected by rain, extreme cold, etc. Extremely fast runner, weak but very agile and can fit into small spaces. So normal-looking that he wouldn't be given a second thought in a crowd- except for his eyes. Something about his eyes...
ColdZero.
Actually had an injury in his face. He wears a bio mask since most of his face has broken joints. He can't use his mouth to talk because it has been removed. Instead, The Technology in his mask makes him talk but he doesn't talk much. Expert in Snipers and well known to hand to hand combat. He's just plain tall and ALWAYS plays with his knife. Practically a caring person but people just can't seem to understand him.
I forgot to tell you. I use this. And this. =3
Ashlander
22 Years old, 6'2, short dirty blonde hair, grey-blue eyes. Loves his old foxbody mustang. Was medically discharged from the Air Force, has experiance with an M16 and an M9. Will pretty much do anything for anybody, as long as he's cool with them. Deathly afriad of heights. Find offensive jokes the best.
Scarecrow:
Wears silver reflective sunglasses and a straw hat, and a black hooded jacket underneath a grey leather jacket. Dark hair. Uses a Magnum Research BFR (Biggest Finest Revolver - no i'm not kidding this is a real gun), a hunting rifle, and a 12 inch knife. Fuelled by caffeine alone. Due to enormous amounts of caffeine in his blood, can run, jump, fight with extreme energy and speed, but can only keep this up for a short period time. Expert knife fighter. Can fire his revolver extremely quickly in bursts, with accuraccy. Incapable of steady aim, but can aim and shoot in one movement with great speed and accuraccy (the longer he aims the less accurate he gets). Chews coffee beans constantly and spits as though it were tobacco, as a result has black teeth and saliva.
Wartooth
Somewhat of a lurker, Wartooth hides in the shadows of the city. He always has a cigarette in his mouth. When people try to communicate with him, he is usually quiet but serious. He enjoys humor, his usually being dark or dry. When stuck in a position where he would need to fight, he would show himself useful as he has been trained with a gun. He is great at acrobatics. He doesn't believe in established police, as he himself is a vigilanty(ignore wrong spelling as I'm a lazy Aussie). Although he doesn't believe in the established fighting, he hates the noobs, and is hoping he may team up with a member of the force to do some damage. It is rumored now that he may be dead, but people haven't lost hope in him. Many believe that he is just lurking in the shadows.
Wartooth is about 5'10" with heavy upperbody build, but his lower body is lean. He has a few scars on his face. He wears a flannel hoody. Always with the hood up. The hoody is black with thin white stripes. He carries around many hidden weapons, including 3 pistols, a crowbar, and a taser.
Long brown curly hair, usually put into a ponytail.
[SIZE="7"]Official Story Thread.[/SIZE]
[SIZE="7"]Prologue[/SIZE]
The alarm shrieks. I wake up and roll over expecting to hit the snooze button. Only to be met by the floor in my living room. My nose starts to bleed.Damnit. I rub the blood from my upper lip and slowly get up. Completely sore from yesterday. I stretch out a little and begin to walk to the bedroom. I grab the clock off my dark oak stand. 9:02 I slam it against the wall. It shatters into oblivion. I liked to slam things. At least the noise is gone. I pinch the bridge of my nose.
Time to go. Recruiting day.
[SIZE="4"]Chapter 1[/SIZE]
I grabbed the manila envelope off the passenger seat and looked inside. Paperclips' letter.
People have been talking about something bad going down in stickpage. As the SPP SOU leader, I want you to find a small group of people that could blend in completely with all walks of stickpage life. Inside this envelope are pictures of my suggestions.
Good luck
Sincerely, Paperclip.
What a formal ending to that letter. I pulled out the pictures. Marked with a red number one was a tall and thin man. He wore a ponytail, in the picture he was getting in the passenger seat of a car. Floyd. We've had a friendly history. He's in. I tossed the picture on the dashboard and grabbed the next one. A man with a crazed look in his eye. Aiming a bow. Short blond hair, kind of muscular. Bubbles. He's insane. How could PC ever recommend him? I toss that picture and look through the rest. Sumfink, Ashlander, Coldzero, , Wartooth, Scarecrow. I grab them all and tuck them under the visor. I notice that on the back of scarecrows theres more red writing. Pros and cons all his features and what he carries. Thats useful. I start up my truck and crank the music. Subs pounding. I drive to Floyd's house.
POUND. POUND, POUND.
"This is urgent!" I scream at his door in my best cop voice. "We need to talk to you!"
"What for???" He yells back while opening the door. "Damn man." He smiles at me. "You got me going there."
"How's it been man?" I copy his tone.
"Great."
"I need you for something. I'm on duty for the SOU and I'm getting together an ass-kicking team. In?"
"In."
He rips open a small pack of sugar from the cup holder in my truck and Pours it all in his mouth.
"So whats this mission anyway?" He turns to me.
"PC sent me to find out about all the rumors. Well its reconnaissance mostly, but if it gets messy I want to know I have a team. Your with me right now, to help me test these guys." I toss the pictures at him.
"Bubbles is closest." He says looking at the addresses.
"I know" I was hoping that would go unnoticed.
We find him at the range in the back of his house. Mumbling to himself while setting up targets a hundred yards away. He runs back to about where we are. Grabs his hightech bow and an arrow. He shoots one, ducks, rolls right, pulls two more arrows and takes the other two out at once. Damn.
"Hey bubbles!" I catch his attention and he jumps. Screams something at us and goes on all fours. Floyd looks at me.
"I don't know either man. Bubbles, we need you to help us with something. The SOU needs a team of skilled people. You, are obviously skilled. So if you can go with us we'd appreciate it. He bear walks over to a dog crate and lays inside.
"Is that a yes?" Floyd asks.
I toss the crate into the back seat. He honks at me and shows his teeth. I get into the driver seat.
"Whos next?" I look at Floyd just getting in.
"Well it says on the back of all the other pictures", he flips them. "Nothing, no addresses or anything."
I stop the car and jump out. Walking fast up to phonebooth, I grab the book inside and look for Scarecrow. I find it. Put in the change and dial the number.
"Hello?" A deep shaky voice on the other line.
"I need you to help me." I say into phone.
"Well then now what?" Scarecrow looks at me from across the SOU lobby. All of PC's suggestions pulled through. Sumfink, Coldzero, Ashlander and Wartooth sit in various places. I look at the man in a blue tshirt and jeans sitting on the bench next to mine. Sumfink. He looks up. A mad spark in his eye. I turn away. A tall man in a bio mask sitting hunched over on the other side. Flipping a black handled army knife in his hands. Scarecrow sits across from me in his sunglasses, straw hat and leather jacket. Talking to Ashlander, a tall man with dirty blond hair. They laugh about something I'm almost positive is a masturbation joke. The laughings interrupted by Scarecrow popping some coffee beans like an addict pops pain meds. I can hear the crunching. Last but not least, Wartooth leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette. I can't see his face because of his hoodie. Black with white stripes. The secretary at the desk walks over to him and tells him to go outside. He pulls a pistol from his belt and chuckles as she walks away. Thats my team. Ding. Floyd comes out of the elevator.
"You'll never guess what I scored us boys" He says with a huge grin.
[SIZE="4"]Chapter 2[/SIZE]
"Well shit Floyd," I smile. "I love it!" I highfived him and went to check out my new military transport. Outside the SOU building. Parked like a normal streetcar.
"Figured you would," He says. "Shotgun!" And ran past Scarecrow right into the front seat. "You guys are in the back" He says smugly.
I turned around and watched each member file in.
"I'm thinking about adding something for you," He says putting his hand through the window and on the top.
"Like what?" I ask.
"You'll see swing by my house and drop me and the beast," He hits the roof. "Off and you'll see. You guys have work to do anyway."
"Alright man," I slid a little and made some nice tire marks on his driveway for good measure. I look back at the group. "You're all with me, let's go."
I opened the door to my house. Trying to be funny I bowed my head and raised my arm.
"My humble abode," I mumble in my best stuck up butler voice. No one laughed except scarecrow. And even that was quickly faded by the beans.
"Spit that in this," I toss him a milk jug. He cut the top off and set it down next to the lazyboy.
"Ok, we all have something important to do. Right?" I say sitting on the couch.
'Right' most of them said almost at the same time. Bubbles growled a little bit and rolled over.
"Ok, does anyone get this guy?" Ashlander butting in and stopping Bubbles' panting.
"No, but hes good." I reply. "Back on topic, we're all here to investigate whats happening to stickpage. Your all under my leadership. Even though I hate to think that way, this is a team. We'll be back to back fighting before we leave eachother." I spewed some military nonsense. This is probably going to be a quick mission. "This might just be reconassaince for all I know but we might get into a firefight or two. I can trust most of you. Maybe not you Bubbles," I smile and pat his head. He stands up and walks away talking under his breath. "Ok, definately not him. Well honestly, I don't know whats going on, and I think thats why PC recommended you, Scarecrow. Have anything for us?"
"Well there's been talk of a spam attack, a bot attack and everything else of the like. Well us NTF's think its just a bunch. But all the relatively stupid people who aren't noobs and all the pessimistic ones think somethings going down. It might be an inside job for all I know, but Stickpage might very well be in some danger." He says.
"Alright guys. Heres what I've got for you. Blend in. Find out what you can. Report back to this house everyday at one hour more than before so we can't be tracked. And you all arrive at different times. Which will obviously help. I'll see all you guys tomorrow."
I opened the door and watched them file out. Said 'bye' or 'later' to everyone trying to be as casual as possible. I walk over to my phone. Dial Floyd and he answers after a few rings.
"Hello?" He says
"Hey, I wanted to know when the transport would be done."
"Tomorrow, I'll call you when its time."
"Alright."
"Anythin else?"
"No I guess not"
"Bye."
"B-" He hangs up the phone, kind of awkward, little rude. Somethings probably wrong. I'll go over there tomorrow. Well hopefully tomorrow everyones acts up. This 'team' thing isn't working out to well. I layed down on the couch and and grabbed the remote off the coffee table. Pushed a button towards my stereo. Metal. Good. I fell asleep in seconds.
The sun shining through my shades wakes me up. I look at the clock. Oh crap. 11:27. Really? I jump up and run to my bathroom grabbing another shirt and spraying some cologne. I put the shirt on and run into my kitchen, grabbing an apple. Gross, dude. I throw that against the wall. And grab some go-gurt out of the fridge. I squirt the entire thing into my mouth and go to my phone. 1 Missed Call. I push play on the answering machine. It's PC. "It's gotten worse, I need you to get to the SOU." Me? Why just me? "Hurry," Beep. "Message erased. There are no new messages." Shit. Should have sprung for one that said the time. I ran outside and down the block, my shoes pounding on the sidewalk. I turn the corner and see Floyd's garage. I run straight inside the garage and swing into the transport. Start it. Pull it out. Floor it. The tires squeal. Down the streets swerving through cars. I whip into a parking spot and jump out the back not even bothering the door. Right into the lobby and fly up the stares to the meeting room. PC's sitting there along with a bunch of unseen admins and some mods.
"We need you," PC starts. "To find out what happened in the debate thread. Its gone down. Theres no communication in, or out."
"I'll get right to it." I said thinking I've got to get the group.
"Alone," Zed stresses.
Shit...
[SIZE="4"]
Chapter 3
[/SIZE]I jog inside my house, pushing open the door. Walk to the cabinet and slide the huge stereo speaker out of the way. I reach my hand in and pull out a slip of paper. It reads in my almost illiterate handwriting '06, 39, 12'. I push the stereo back into place and slide the paper into my back pocket.
"Oh, six, thirty-nine, twelve" I repeat to myself as I lean down next to the cabinet. Push it slowly across my wood floor. Making a wicked screech. I grab the knob and swing it around. It clicks at every number. And I open it quickly. Grab my silenced M9. I rub it like you'd stroke a beautiful woman's hair from her face. And reach down, smiling deviously. Well there is going to be trouble. I slide on the spiked brass knuckles. And