Due to a popular demand (by that I mean three people) and a spark of inspiration. I have gone ahead and create our third Charms based RP. You can probably guess what it's about, judging by recent events. Anyway, I'm going to leave it open ended and let the group decide how it's going to play out, whether it's a small adventure to pass the time, or a grand scale conflict between a team of Charmisians god-knows-who, that's up to you. You are free to drop in if you feel like it. But please, make sure you've memorized the rules, since we don't really have our sacred rulebook anymore. Though you could probably get away with just having a brain. If you don't have either, then I'll know and use any means necessary to make sure you don't turn this RP into a spam server (again). Settled? Good, Story time!
The more something grows, the more likely it will end in ruin. Huge cities with towering skyscrapers point towards blue skies, many roads crisscrossing one another and forming a web of pathways around the many buildings, and thousands of people coming and going. All that could be changed with a single bang. Beautiful blue becomes darkened grey, majestic towers become ruined forts; roads disappear under enormous piles of rubble and debris. And the thousands of people that crowded the roads become victims and survivors, or kick the bucket in the process. From paradise to hell, that is how the survivors would describe the first few minutes, and many do not even remember the first minutes, or live to tell the story of those minutes.
This was not Hiroshima, or Nagasaki, or even Chernobyl. This was Pokécharms, on the Sixth of June 2010, only a week since the grand city was reduced to an urban wasteland. All that is left now is the horror, the sorrow, and the dread. The horror of the event, the sorrow for the lost, and the dread of what was going to happen next. Do you know what terror looks like? It is looking you in the face. Remember it; you might see it again later…
"Home Base, Delta Team's moving up to the RP Section, no additional survivors in the Miscellaneous Board. Over." A man spoke, pushing his hand against a button in his helmet to activate the intercom.
"Roger that Delta Four, keep your eyes on the ground and your heartbeat monitors, any survivors still under the rubble will not last much longer. Over." A voice replied through his earphone.
"Copy that, we'll keep you posted. Out." The man then turned to the seven others in his group and signaled them to move forward. Each of the eight men was like something from a Star Wars movie; clad in white armor and a helmet with breathing equipment. The only thing that could tell them apart from their galaxy-far-far-away-counterparts was the grey emblem on their chests and helmets in the form of a triangle and a line, creating the general shape of a scale. Each of them was equipped with an assortment of different gadgets. Three of them had monitors that every three seconds sent out a pulse that picked up beating hearts. The men themselves showed up as grey dots, what they were looking for were green dots. Two of the others were carrying hoses that were connected to their backpacks, which were packed with a solvent that cleaned the body of unwanted particles, particularly radioactive particles. Another one had a large metal backpack with robots and scanners inside, all used for the rescue process. The last two had plasma rifles for… well, just in case. Delta Four, the team leader, had a heartbeat monitor and led the group around the chunks of rock that littered the street. No unusual signs on the monitors; the place was lifeless. As they passed one ruined building, Delta Four stopped and looked at what was left of it. It was stone, with a few metal bits that were still intact. The most prominent things was the base, in which a few stone spikes poked out in a uniform manner; the remains of pillars. There was also a brazier, still with glowing orange embers inside. Delta Four did not know what the RP that this building represented was about, but it was clearly something torn from the pages of Ancient History. Suddenly, he heard a beep. He looked both ways in surprise before finally looking down at his monitor. Sure enough, a green dot appeared in the middle, directly in front of him.
"Home Base, this is Delta Four. We found a survivor, still under the rubble. We will need a transport. Over." He radioed.
"Roger that Delta Four. Have him out of there in five minutes and we'll have a transport ready in seven, Out." The voice replied. Delta Four wasted no time in giving orders to the rest of his team to prepare for a dig-and-rescue.
Four minutes later, Delta Team and two mechanical-arm robots were working overtime with clearing the rubble around where the green dot was indicated. Finally, one of them gave a shout and pulled out a body from the rubble. An unconscious teenaged male in half-ragged, soot-stained red-and-black clothes. His hair was turned grey with soot and dust, and a red-and-black headband seemed to keep the hair from falling off his scalp. The men immediately carried him over to a chair-like contraption and the men with hoses began to squirt him with their cleaning solvent. Almost immediately, the body sprang to life, shortly jerking in spasm, and then began coughing out dust. As soon as the men finished hosing him, another one grabbed his hand and quickly put it on a scanner, the machine whirred shortly and on a display, a profile appeared. Personal data was on one side, giving information about the person in the chair, the other side of the monitor showed an identification picture; a teenager with white hair, blue eyes, and a headband. Definitely the boy in the chair, but with all the scars and bruises, he did not look the same. To be honest though, nobody involved in this disaster did.
"Brendan Savem is it?" Delta Four said, helping the disoriented Charmisian get his bearings. "You should be proud to be alive."
"What… what happened…" Brendan asked, stunned to see the ominous grey sky. "I was just trying to add to the Olympians story when suddenly, whoosh!" he explained, struggling to remember what happened before he was trapped under the Parthenon replica.
"There was an explosion, bad one at that. Everywhere you look, you can see what it's done." Brendan had a hard time believing that what was around used to be Charms.
"How long since-!"
"Six days. Like I said, be proud that you're alive." At that moment, a hovering craft flew over and lowered itself down towards the group. "Hurting anywhere? Can you walk?"
"Yeah, should be able to. Or at least crawl if I have to." Brendan answered, pushing himself out of the chair and began to make his way to the craft. Brendan was able to get over there fine, but each time he took a step with his right foot, a pain shot up his leg, threatening to pull him down. Brendan managed to set himself down on a padded chair on the hovercraft before it lifted off and moved off again, leaving Delta team back to their hunting duties.
Brendan suddenly felt his thirst, and almost scrambled to get at one of the bottles of water nearby. After gulping down two bottles in mere seconds, Brendan felt greatly relieved. Seeing the armor-clad driver near the front, Brendan felt to start a quick conversation.
"Who are you guys anyway? I don't think you're from the forum, are you?" Brendan asked,
"No we're not" the driver replied, "We're from Simple Machines, you'd normally know us as forum architects, but we come from a charity division, designed to aid during forum disasters, Dr Oak asked us personally to make sure people like you were still alive, even though we should have given up the search a couple of days ago."
"So basically I owe the good doctor my life now. Hope it doesn't involve foot massages." Brendan chuckled, even in the face of disaster; he is able to keep his wit.
"Well lucky for you that he's got his hands full right now. He's working overtime to try and recover old forum blueprints, doesn't really want to start the forum from scratch." The hovercraft then began to slow down and lower itself to the ground. "Well, welcome to Camp Charms, the best place to celebrate your summer." Brendan looked over the side of the craft to see where they had landed. It was an area of the Announcements Board, with the remains of Logout Highway curving overhead. Most of the rubble in this area was cleared to make room for the lines of green and white tents that stood alone in the desolate landscape. Most of the tents had wooden signs labeling them for what they stood for, like "Day 1 – A fateful Encounter" and "Game Version differences?" and a larger tent marked "Welcome back to Pokecharms.com". Dotted around the tents were men from Simple Machines moving equipment, fellow Charmisians were amongst them, helping move things, moving in and out of the tents, and huddled around a fire outside the larger tent. Brendan got off the hovercraft and turned around,
"Thanks for the lift!" he called as the craft lifted back up into the air and disappeared over the wastes. Brendan hobbled around the camp to try to get his bearings. Most of the people were too busy, so they did not notice when he occasionally stood motionless, thinking and studying. Sometimes, he could picture the scene as if it was still regular Charms. In a sense however, it was. There were people, there were still topic buildings, and there were still people enjoying themselves despite the bleakness of the situation. It was as if Pokécharms was squashed up and placed here in medical camp form, with the addition of workers and tents from Simple Machines. Finally, Brendan got to the campfire, with a group of people surrounding it. Brendan saw a vision of the chat room, the people talking, laughing, and having a good time. This was what it was now. Seeing one of the small chairs still vacant, Brendan decided to settle back in with the group.
"I presume this is the chat fire now." Brendan said, announcing his visit in this manner. He approached and lowered himself into the chair. "My eyes are a little bit blurry." He said, rubbing his eyes to try to make them focus properly so he could recognize faces. So as stupid as it is to ask, who's here?"
The more something grows, the more likely it will end in ruin. Huge cities with towering skyscrapers point towards blue skies, many roads crisscrossing one another and forming a web of pathways around the many buildings, and thousands of people coming and going. All that could be changed with a single bang. Beautiful blue becomes darkened grey, majestic towers become ruined forts; roads disappear under enormous piles of rubble and debris. And the thousands of people that crowded the roads become victims and survivors, or kick the bucket in the process. From paradise to hell, that is how the survivors would describe the first few minutes, and many do not even remember the first minutes, or live to tell the story of those minutes.
This was not Hiroshima, or Nagasaki, or even Chernobyl. This was Pokécharms, on the Sixth of June 2010, only a week since the grand city was reduced to an urban wasteland. All that is left now is the horror, the sorrow, and the dread. The horror of the event, the sorrow for the lost, and the dread of what was going to happen next. Do you know what terror looks like? It is looking you in the face. Remember it; you might see it again later…
"Home Base, Delta Team's moving up to the RP Section, no additional survivors in the Miscellaneous Board. Over." A man spoke, pushing his hand against a button in his helmet to activate the intercom.
"Roger that Delta Four, keep your eyes on the ground and your heartbeat monitors, any survivors still under the rubble will not last much longer. Over." A voice replied through his earphone.
"Copy that, we'll keep you posted. Out." The man then turned to the seven others in his group and signaled them to move forward. Each of the eight men was like something from a Star Wars movie; clad in white armor and a helmet with breathing equipment. The only thing that could tell them apart from their galaxy-far-far-away-counterparts was the grey emblem on their chests and helmets in the form of a triangle and a line, creating the general shape of a scale. Each of them was equipped with an assortment of different gadgets. Three of them had monitors that every three seconds sent out a pulse that picked up beating hearts. The men themselves showed up as grey dots, what they were looking for were green dots. Two of the others were carrying hoses that were connected to their backpacks, which were packed with a solvent that cleaned the body of unwanted particles, particularly radioactive particles. Another one had a large metal backpack with robots and scanners inside, all used for the rescue process. The last two had plasma rifles for… well, just in case. Delta Four, the team leader, had a heartbeat monitor and led the group around the chunks of rock that littered the street. No unusual signs on the monitors; the place was lifeless. As they passed one ruined building, Delta Four stopped and looked at what was left of it. It was stone, with a few metal bits that were still intact. The most prominent things was the base, in which a few stone spikes poked out in a uniform manner; the remains of pillars. There was also a brazier, still with glowing orange embers inside. Delta Four did not know what the RP that this building represented was about, but it was clearly something torn from the pages of Ancient History. Suddenly, he heard a beep. He looked both ways in surprise before finally looking down at his monitor. Sure enough, a green dot appeared in the middle, directly in front of him.
"Home Base, this is Delta Four. We found a survivor, still under the rubble. We will need a transport. Over." He radioed.
"Roger that Delta Four. Have him out of there in five minutes and we'll have a transport ready in seven, Out." The voice replied. Delta Four wasted no time in giving orders to the rest of his team to prepare for a dig-and-rescue.
Four minutes later, Delta Team and two mechanical-arm robots were working overtime with clearing the rubble around where the green dot was indicated. Finally, one of them gave a shout and pulled out a body from the rubble. An unconscious teenaged male in half-ragged, soot-stained red-and-black clothes. His hair was turned grey with soot and dust, and a red-and-black headband seemed to keep the hair from falling off his scalp. The men immediately carried him over to a chair-like contraption and the men with hoses began to squirt him with their cleaning solvent. Almost immediately, the body sprang to life, shortly jerking in spasm, and then began coughing out dust. As soon as the men finished hosing him, another one grabbed his hand and quickly put it on a scanner, the machine whirred shortly and on a display, a profile appeared. Personal data was on one side, giving information about the person in the chair, the other side of the monitor showed an identification picture; a teenager with white hair, blue eyes, and a headband. Definitely the boy in the chair, but with all the scars and bruises, he did not look the same. To be honest though, nobody involved in this disaster did.
"Brendan Savem is it?" Delta Four said, helping the disoriented Charmisian get his bearings. "You should be proud to be alive."
"What… what happened…" Brendan asked, stunned to see the ominous grey sky. "I was just trying to add to the Olympians story when suddenly, whoosh!" he explained, struggling to remember what happened before he was trapped under the Parthenon replica.
"There was an explosion, bad one at that. Everywhere you look, you can see what it's done." Brendan had a hard time believing that what was around used to be Charms.
"How long since-!"
"Six days. Like I said, be proud that you're alive." At that moment, a hovering craft flew over and lowered itself down towards the group. "Hurting anywhere? Can you walk?"
"Yeah, should be able to. Or at least crawl if I have to." Brendan answered, pushing himself out of the chair and began to make his way to the craft. Brendan was able to get over there fine, but each time he took a step with his right foot, a pain shot up his leg, threatening to pull him down. Brendan managed to set himself down on a padded chair on the hovercraft before it lifted off and moved off again, leaving Delta team back to their hunting duties.
Brendan suddenly felt his thirst, and almost scrambled to get at one of the bottles of water nearby. After gulping down two bottles in mere seconds, Brendan felt greatly relieved. Seeing the armor-clad driver near the front, Brendan felt to start a quick conversation.
"Who are you guys anyway? I don't think you're from the forum, are you?" Brendan asked,
"No we're not" the driver replied, "We're from Simple Machines, you'd normally know us as forum architects, but we come from a charity division, designed to aid during forum disasters, Dr Oak asked us personally to make sure people like you were still alive, even though we should have given up the search a couple of days ago."
"So basically I owe the good doctor my life now. Hope it doesn't involve foot massages." Brendan chuckled, even in the face of disaster; he is able to keep his wit.
"Well lucky for you that he's got his hands full right now. He's working overtime to try and recover old forum blueprints, doesn't really want to start the forum from scratch." The hovercraft then began to slow down and lower itself to the ground. "Well, welcome to Camp Charms, the best place to celebrate your summer." Brendan looked over the side of the craft to see where they had landed. It was an area of the Announcements Board, with the remains of Logout Highway curving overhead. Most of the rubble in this area was cleared to make room for the lines of green and white tents that stood alone in the desolate landscape. Most of the tents had wooden signs labeling them for what they stood for, like "Day 1 – A fateful Encounter" and "Game Version differences?" and a larger tent marked "Welcome back to Pokecharms.com". Dotted around the tents were men from Simple Machines moving equipment, fellow Charmisians were amongst them, helping move things, moving in and out of the tents, and huddled around a fire outside the larger tent. Brendan got off the hovercraft and turned around,
"Thanks for the lift!" he called as the craft lifted back up into the air and disappeared over the wastes. Brendan hobbled around the camp to try to get his bearings. Most of the people were too busy, so they did not notice when he occasionally stood motionless, thinking and studying. Sometimes, he could picture the scene as if it was still regular Charms. In a sense however, it was. There were people, there were still topic buildings, and there were still people enjoying themselves despite the bleakness of the situation. It was as if Pokécharms was squashed up and placed here in medical camp form, with the addition of workers and tents from Simple Machines. Finally, Brendan got to the campfire, with a group of people surrounding it. Brendan saw a vision of the chat room, the people talking, laughing, and having a good time. This was what it was now. Seeing one of the small chairs still vacant, Brendan decided to settle back in with the group.
"I presume this is the chat fire now." Brendan said, announcing his visit in this manner. He approached and lowered himself into the chair. "My eyes are a little bit blurry." He said, rubbing his eyes to try to make them focus properly so he could recognize faces. So as stupid as it is to ask, who's here?"
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