I have an idea for sure.
Yes. And he may or may not have killed one of the murderers in an act of hatred and revenge.
Days Passed Away RP preview and sign up thread
- Thread starter Bodine
- Start date
Just join for heavens sake
(in a Scottish accent)
The Storm
Legendary Super Saiyan
- Mar 22, 2008
- 1,347
- 0
@ Nick: sometimes less is more. You don't have to give a lot of info, just give enough to wet the appetite for now, that way, you can still come up with whatever u want when you reveal it later on in the RP, while at the same time appeasing the demands of an SU for Days. I do less Is more but encompassed in a huge plot hole. Notice in my last sign up, I gave a lot of information, and a lot of reasons, but there are still many plot twists to come from the backstory of The Colonel, I promise u this now.
He's not going to, most likely. D:
Splash_King
The Scrubbiest of Hunters
Guess I shouldn't'a been such a back-seat driver with my opinion shoutin' and such... ... ...
nope.avi
Splash_King
The Scrubbiest of Hunters
I'll join if someone can find me a legitimate Shiny Magikarp, Gen 4 or Gen 5, doesn't matter.
... Don't gimme that disdainful look.
... Don't gimme that disdainful look.
I'm sure someone is now fishing all the lakes of Gen 4 and 5 with an old rod, looking to get you a Shiny karp.
Splash_King
The Scrubbiest of Hunters
I look forward to the [strike]implausible[/strike] results. 
Revised Again
Clarifications made to Biography
Name: Gregory Osmer
Alias: He is called Shade on the field (whether he is on it or not). Only a handful knows his name (If that is his name).
Age: 36
Alliance: Lance, B.C.C.O. and BioCorp (However he does not trust BioCorp at all).
Appearance: He is a black haired white male. He is about average height and has very dark brown (looks black) eyes. He always wears his trade mark long, heavy and black coat. When conducting business, he wears a suit and tie with his black coat. On the field he wears a tactical vest and boots with his black coat.
Weapon of choice: His intellect is his main weapon however he always carries with him a custom made and modified pistol with gyrojet ammunition. He is very accurate with his pistol. He also carries a modified dart revolver.
Personality: He is a patient and intelligent person. He has a reputation for being an exceptional military strategist and inventor. To top that off he is very paranoid but he is able to control his paranoia with his intellect. Because he is paranoid he has contingency and back up plans for everything. Osmer does not get frustrated easily nor does he get easily exited. Most people think he is devoid of emotions. Others think he is mad. Some think he possesses strange powers. Rumors spread but all of them agree he is a very serious and secretive person. He is the only "Ghost" who does not use the formula (Osmer is considered a half Ghost). Osmer also talks in a monotone voice.
Biography: He did a good job of hiding his past. Information on his history is only known by him. The only thing that is known about him is that he co-started the Lance Mercenary Organization with four others at the age of twenty-three. Lance eventually was contracted by BioCorp as the main bulk of the B.C.C.O. Because of this he is the leader of the B.C.C.O. and acts as liaison between the B.C.C.O. and BioCorp. Because of this, he holds a chair on the BioCorp board. He is rarely seen on the field. But when he is, something important is going on.
Prologue:
A man in a white lab coat straightened his papers on the table, stood up, and spoke. The others in the room looked at him with serious faces. Each of them wearing all black. "Progress on Zeta is going slowly. We haven't found a way to bypass the natural defenses."
A woman near the far corner of the room stood up slamming the table with her hands. "How many times do we have to listen to your failures?" she said sternly. "We have given you every available resource in the world and you still are making no progress? How is this possible?"
The most of the black figures in the room nodded their heads in approval. The rest sustained their mind piercing stares.
The woman continued her scathing speech. "Time is running out. It has been months and we still don't have Zeta complete? Every time you come into this room we hear about your inability to perform the task that was appointed to you. Before project Zeta, you assured us of your abilities. Osmer was right from the beginning. You cannot do anything!"
A bead of sweat rolled down the scientist's forehead. He thought carefully. One wrong move and that move would be his last.
"Something like this takes time." responded the scientist. " A slow and steady process. If we rush it at this stage, we could lose everything. All of our research would be worthless." He made sure to emphasize the words "we" and "our" making it seem the loss of his work would be a loss for them all.
Before the woman could retort. Osmer spoke. "Five days. You have five days to get results. At the end of five days you will be the test subject." His monotone voice echoed off the walls.
The scientist was speechless. He looked Osmer in the eyes. They were black. Black as evil incarnate. It was a stare you could feel. And the feeling was not pleasant, not one bit. He thought of his options. No he couldn't do that.
"Do what you must." Stated Osmer as if he could read the scientist's mind. "On the fifth day, my scientists will conduct the experiments. Depending on how good your results are will determine how painless your death will be. If you succeed in what we asked there should be nothing to fear."
The scientist dropped his papers. They lay strewn about on the table. He would face a woman's scorn any day if the alternative was Osmer's stare. He fell into his chair much like his papers; a mess.
"Now to a more pressing issue." Osmer said. "I have reason to believe there is an imposter among us."
The other looked around, trying to guess who it was. Finally one spoke up, "Who is it Osmer?"
"You." replied Osmer. His voice lacked emotion but had an unmistakable coldness to it.
"That's absurd." declared the man.
"Is it now? Firstly, you were the first to ask who it was. Secondly, a proud businessman like Anderson would never use contractions such as 'that's.' Thirdly, as a former smoker, Anderson was constantly moving his hands."
The Anderson fraud glanced quickly at his left side of his chest. He was about to reach for his gun when Osmer fired a dart from a modified revolver. The dart pierced the phony's neck and he was instantly knocked out. The other members of the board jumped out of their seats unsure what to do.
Still sitting Osmer spoke. "The effects are not permanent. With the consent of the board, I would like to perform the interrogation personally."
No one in the room spoke for they were still in shock.
"Good," said Osmer still looking towards the fake Anderson. "This is personal business."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Name: Isaac Wolfe
Alias: (None)
Age: 27
Alliance: B.C.C.O. and BioCorp although his loyalty is not completely to them
Appearance: He has dark skin and black hair because of his Cherokee ancestry (his mother is full Cherokee while his father is Caucasian). He looks like the standard B.C.C.O. soldier. He about average height at 5'10''.
Weapon of choice: He is familiar with all B.C.C.O. weaponry.
Personality: He is the soldier who keeps his mouth shut and objects only in his mind. He is not reckless and follows orders. He disagrees with much of what he is being ordered to do however he waits for the right time to leave or rebel. He is also wise for his age and proud of his heritage.
Biography: He was born and raised in Oklahoma. His mother taught him about his heritage while his father taught him how to hunt. He joined law enforcement when we was 21. As a police officer he was reckless and hasty but he got the job done. One day his recklessness got a fellow officer killed. His actions were scrutinized and he was kicked off the force. These advents made him more solemn. The next day he had a knock on his door. The person on the other side claimed to be part of an mercenary organization named Lance. The mystery man told Wolfe that they were currently hiring and that if he joined, his record will be wiped clean and he would begin a new life as a hired gun. Wolfe thought it over for the next week. He felt like there was no other choice and joined Lance. Lance was eventually contracted by BioCorp and was integrated into the B.C.C.O.
Prologue:
He was in the oil refinery facility raid with Geist.
Clarifications made to Biography
Name: Gregory Osmer
Alias: He is called Shade on the field (whether he is on it or not). Only a handful knows his name (If that is his name).
Age: 36
Alliance: Lance, B.C.C.O. and BioCorp (However he does not trust BioCorp at all).
Appearance: He is a black haired white male. He is about average height and has very dark brown (looks black) eyes. He always wears his trade mark long, heavy and black coat. When conducting business, he wears a suit and tie with his black coat. On the field he wears a tactical vest and boots with his black coat.
Weapon of choice: His intellect is his main weapon however he always carries with him a custom made and modified pistol with gyrojet ammunition. He is very accurate with his pistol. He also carries a modified dart revolver.
Personality: He is a patient and intelligent person. He has a reputation for being an exceptional military strategist and inventor. To top that off he is very paranoid but he is able to control his paranoia with his intellect. Because he is paranoid he has contingency and back up plans for everything. Osmer does not get frustrated easily nor does he get easily exited. Most people think he is devoid of emotions. Others think he is mad. Some think he possesses strange powers. Rumors spread but all of them agree he is a very serious and secretive person. He is the only "Ghost" who does not use the formula (Osmer is considered a half Ghost). Osmer also talks in a monotone voice.
Biography: He did a good job of hiding his past. Information on his history is only known by him. The only thing that is known about him is that he co-started the Lance Mercenary Organization with four others at the age of twenty-three. Lance eventually was contracted by BioCorp as the main bulk of the B.C.C.O. Because of this he is the leader of the B.C.C.O. and acts as liaison between the B.C.C.O. and BioCorp. Because of this, he holds a chair on the BioCorp board. He is rarely seen on the field. But when he is, something important is going on.
Prologue:
Personal Business
The door open. A man in a long black coat stepped into the dimly lit room. He sat in the only available chair. "Excuse my tardiness" said the man in a monotone voice. "There was an urgent matter that needed my attention." A man at the far end of the table spoke. "Now that Osmer is here, we can begin."
A man in a white lab coat straightened his papers on the table, stood up, and spoke. The others in the room looked at him with serious faces. Each of them wearing all black. "Progress on Zeta is going slowly. We haven't found a way to bypass the natural defenses."
A woman near the far corner of the room stood up slamming the table with her hands. "How many times do we have to listen to your failures?" she said sternly. "We have given you every available resource in the world and you still are making no progress? How is this possible?"
The most of the black figures in the room nodded their heads in approval. The rest sustained their mind piercing stares.
The woman continued her scathing speech. "Time is running out. It has been months and we still don't have Zeta complete? Every time you come into this room we hear about your inability to perform the task that was appointed to you. Before project Zeta, you assured us of your abilities. Osmer was right from the beginning. You cannot do anything!"
A bead of sweat rolled down the scientist's forehead. He thought carefully. One wrong move and that move would be his last.
"Something like this takes time." responded the scientist. " A slow and steady process. If we rush it at this stage, we could lose everything. All of our research would be worthless." He made sure to emphasize the words "we" and "our" making it seem the loss of his work would be a loss for them all.
Before the woman could retort. Osmer spoke. "Five days. You have five days to get results. At the end of five days you will be the test subject." His monotone voice echoed off the walls.
The scientist was speechless. He looked Osmer in the eyes. They were black. Black as evil incarnate. It was a stare you could feel. And the feeling was not pleasant, not one bit. He thought of his options. No he couldn't do that.
"Do what you must." Stated Osmer as if he could read the scientist's mind. "On the fifth day, my scientists will conduct the experiments. Depending on how good your results are will determine how painless your death will be. If you succeed in what we asked there should be nothing to fear."
The scientist dropped his papers. They lay strewn about on the table. He would face a woman's scorn any day if the alternative was Osmer's stare. He fell into his chair much like his papers; a mess.
"Now to a more pressing issue." Osmer said. "I have reason to believe there is an imposter among us."
The other looked around, trying to guess who it was. Finally one spoke up, "Who is it Osmer?"
"You." replied Osmer. His voice lacked emotion but had an unmistakable coldness to it.
"That's absurd." declared the man.
"Is it now? Firstly, you were the first to ask who it was. Secondly, a proud businessman like Anderson would never use contractions such as 'that's.' Thirdly, as a former smoker, Anderson was constantly moving his hands."
The Anderson fraud glanced quickly at his left side of his chest. He was about to reach for his gun when Osmer fired a dart from a modified revolver. The dart pierced the phony's neck and he was instantly knocked out. The other members of the board jumped out of their seats unsure what to do.
Still sitting Osmer spoke. "The effects are not permanent. With the consent of the board, I would like to perform the interrogation personally."
No one in the room spoke for they were still in shock.
"Good," said Osmer still looking towards the fake Anderson. "This is personal business."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Name: Isaac Wolfe
Alias: (None)
Age: 27
Alliance: B.C.C.O. and BioCorp although his loyalty is not completely to them
Appearance: He has dark skin and black hair because of his Cherokee ancestry (his mother is full Cherokee while his father is Caucasian). He looks like the standard B.C.C.O. soldier. He about average height at 5'10''.
Weapon of choice: He is familiar with all B.C.C.O. weaponry.
Personality: He is the soldier who keeps his mouth shut and objects only in his mind. He is not reckless and follows orders. He disagrees with much of what he is being ordered to do however he waits for the right time to leave or rebel. He is also wise for his age and proud of his heritage.
Biography: He was born and raised in Oklahoma. His mother taught him about his heritage while his father taught him how to hunt. He joined law enforcement when we was 21. As a police officer he was reckless and hasty but he got the job done. One day his recklessness got a fellow officer killed. His actions were scrutinized and he was kicked off the force. These advents made him more solemn. The next day he had a knock on his door. The person on the other side claimed to be part of an mercenary organization named Lance. The mystery man told Wolfe that they were currently hiring and that if he joined, his record will be wiped clean and he would begin a new life as a hired gun. Wolfe thought it over for the next week. He felt like there was no other choice and joined Lance. Lance was eventually contracted by BioCorp and was integrated into the B.C.C.O.
Prologue:
He was in the oil refinery facility raid with Geist.
