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Posted: Mon Dec 12, 2005 5:07 pm
Plot
It's what has been feared for decades. The pandemic destined to wipe out life on Earth has slowly descended to claim what's due. December 21st, the entire population of Kenya disappeared after an erratic storm. Not of thunder, rain, hail, snow, or fish even. It was a storm of arrows.
Not arrows, the actual sharp, penetrating weapons rarely used in today's day and age when a gun can do the job must faster, but arrows.
Arrows is the nickname of the new virus meant to cripple the Earth, and ultimately lead to its death. Called so by the bleeding holes it causes in the bodies of its victims. It's actual name has been dubbed, simply, Sagittarii. Arrows is the combination of bacteria that secretes disconcertingly concentrated acid instead of enzymes. Because of the acidic nature of arrows simply touching the wounds could contaminate your body. Other than touching any physical attributes that it causes, the virus is carried by storms. Not all storms, but a good lot of them. Weather reports can't be reliable when it comes to forecasting the condition of the precipitation. (It doesn't matter. You'll know when the rain starts to burn.)
Scientists have tried, much to their chagrin, to find a cure for this near pandemic disease. Many have pulled away from the research team.
So for five long deacades Earth has wept tears at the loss.
Then things began to turn for the worst. A group of brains from across the globe decided the best way to wipe out this virus would be to exile the ones infected and lock away whoever was left, keep them safe from the acid rain and the Archers (what they call someone who can transmit the disease). And that is exactly what happened. Domes were built, they had clean water, it never rained or snowed, and the next generation born lived happily in their safehouses. (The largest of the dome communities are Antares, Lambda, Grafias and Upsilon.)
The Archers were not pleased. Arrows is, in 60% of the cases, holes in various parts of the body, the fatty tissues, somewhere far from fatal. And the children they gave birth to were just as healthy as the next, so long as they were precautious. Their forced isolation started a war.
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Posted: Mon Dec 12, 2005 5:08 pm
Alliances/Ranks
The Archers: Some are just waiting to die, some were raised into the position of an Archer. They are the outcasts of Earth simply because of an illness they had no control over, and obviously that makes this party furious. They are a very close people and would stick up for each other no matter what. Most are resilient and crass, but for all their coarse pretense the Archers are just like any other human being. (They just hate all the other human beings.) They have formidable weapons, considering that before they were chucked into the wilderness to die they were given some provisions. Or, at least enough to wander safely away from a dome. Archers are, unfortunately, fighting a losing battle.
Subranks:
Scavengers: They're the ones who look for food. No s**t, eh?
Midwives/Mothers/Nurturers: Believe it or not, yes these are ranks. They are for raising children, Teaching them how to read and write and speak, showing them what's right and wrong. There's no longer a religion among Archers, so they don't learn prayer and believing in God from them. Despite the job description, men and women both apply for it. (And sometimes have no choice but to.) Generally these are the people with mild cases of arrows.
Soldiers: They . . . attack. For lack of better word. They're fast, they are artful, they're devious. Weapons are everything and anything they can get their hands on, and they're good at what they do. All the ones who weren't are dead.
Miscellaneous: Whatever you'd like to suggest. PM me if you have an idea for subrank, or just don't apply for one.
The Javelins: Uninfected by arrows and vaccinated against the disease, the Javelins are the lucky people who have yet to discover the awful feeling of their flesh being melted away by acid. The people live in domes resistant to the rain, the earth is pure, as is the water. In a chemically treated sort of way. Technology hasn't gotten any farther, but it's creepig slowly toward new discoveried. One of them being the nuisance that are the Archers. Javelins are seriously degraded after a very long time of fearing infection, and would not hesitate to shoot down any Archers that come after them.
Subranks:
Scout: The poor souls that are forced out of the domes to force out invading Archers and Skalens. Generally they prefer snipering than outright killing with, say, a shot gun, but others have something to prove and stand right there and cut down the enemy lines.
Scientists: Researchers, generally. They tell the engineers what to do when there's a big problem in need of fixing. They're a highly respected bundle of the community.
Engineers: They fix things. Be it a clock or a waterpipe, they're skills of trade vary from one to another.
Cooks: Self-explanatory
Medical Unit: Self-explanatory. Again, there's a wide variety of jobs that can fill this subrank.
The Skalens: The Javelins that became infects by arrows, either by Archers or by an accidental exposure to the virus. They're against both sides, even if they breathe the same air as the 'savages' known as Archers. They hate the Javelins because in their time of need, they were ostricized, and the dislike for Archers was raised from the very beginning. Fear spawns disgust, which turns to hatred.
There are no subranks, they're largely lawless and don't like anyone else.
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Posted: Mon Dec 12, 2005 5:13 pm
Biography FormatListen up, PM ME (the damned) PROFILES! I don't want them cluttering up the place, so let me repeat myself, PM ME THE PROFILES. [b]Gaian Name:[/b] [b]Name:[/b] [b]Age:[/b] [b]Alliance:[/b] (subrank can be included) [b]Appearance:[/b] [b]History:[/b] The ArcherThe JavelinThe SkalenGaian Name: Blind Game Again Name: Seriph de l'Arc Age: 21 Alliance: Skalen, but more for Archers than the other guys Appearance: Seriph has a very bad complexion, it's coarse and peeling and on various areas around his ears and temples there are splotches of red, and various other places have white. The crimson spots are from constant scratching, but the whites are from bad hygiene. He can't really help it, there's barely any kind of water he trusts. His hair is a ragged ebony color that remains matted with sweat and blood. (Preferably not his own.) Seriph wears very rough jeans with so many holes the only thing that's holding the fabris otgether are the seams, and his shirt is big enough to qualify as a parachute. This might have something to do with the fact that his shirt is also his tent. Hidden under the folds and folds of clothing for his upper body are bleeding circles on his skin. They ache like hell, and all together there are sixteen of them. Not much bigger than the fingernail of your pinky, and not much deeper either. But it's getting there. The arrows he has is mild, he'll live for a few more years before he can barely lift his arms anymore. History: Seriph was an unfortunate scout of the Javelins. Before he lived comfortably in the dome, not minding the unique glass that encompassed the whole of his area. A promising medical student for psychiatry. And then he was enlisted. Just like that. He was handed a gun and told to leave the haven Grafias and go hunt down some Archers. Kill ten and you get a hefty bonus and go home, he had been told. And he'd gone, out of lack of better judgement. Then he'd been infected, and when the holes started popping up his troop disappeared mysteriously one evening. The same night they left, he had been kicked so hard in the ribs that he could barely move when he'd woken up. They'd been generous enough to leave him his gun and one more load of bullets, plus the tent he now wore and one canteen of clean water. Since then, Seriph has lost any kind of belief in 'his fellow countrymen.'
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