Fallout: Dawn of "New Mobius"

Storyline

Planet Mobius. Once a place of peace and prosperity, where all living things could simply forget all of their troubles and kick back and relax, the nice sunset providing a perfect view always, the orange skies at dusk and dawn, the occasional tinted cloud in the sky, the gentle howl of the wind coming cool off the surface of the sparkling water, all whilst laying back on an amazingly carved bridge strung together by thick ropes, or the soft grass which provided energy to those at the bottom of the food chain. And all of this was just in one "zone". On Mobius, everything was in place and perfect all of the time. Some considered it to be a dream; a paradise that was never really meant to be discovered by anyone, heaven, life after death if you like.

Unfortunately, the peace never lasted forever. The time came when an evil mastermind scientist, beholding a jaw-dropping IQ of 300, and the knowledge of how to make a robotic army using tiny animals to make them work, struck Mobius, attempting to take over the entire world.

No-one saw it coming. He succeeded.

Eventually the time came when the Mobians started to rebel. However, this was a long lost chance as the scientist was always sitting inside of a large watchtower scattered with monitors to view every zone in perfect high definition, causing all Mobians to be spotted by the madman, arrested, and then put through the painful conversion between Mobian and free willed... to cold hearted robot... it was useless since all of the zones were being monitored. At least, most zones were being monitored. The Great Forest was the only place on the whole map that hadn't yet been discovered by any of the dictator's minions. In turn, this was where most of the forced to refuge Mobians hid. Among those Mobians was one of the bravest Mobians that ever lived; Sonic the Hedgehog. Faster than lightning, and strong in many ways others wouldn't understand. He spent his kid years doing pranks, and imagining himself stopping the scientist. Years later, turns out that's exactly what he was doing. The mad scientist labelled himself as Doctor Robotnik, the "greatest scientific genius in the world", yet Sonic and the rest all came up with the name. "Eggman" due to how bloated he seemed, or "Robuttnik" simply to anger the tyrant.

After many months of planning, many years of raiding cargo holds for supplies, and plenty of growing up and getting serious... the Mobians were ready for their secondary assault on Robotnik.

The secondary assault was bloody, nerve shattering, all of those horrific terms that people take from dictionaries couldn't describe what happened. The Mobians won the fight after six consecutive days of cross fire, death, explosions, blood spill, pain, tears, and pretty much hell. Robotnik was forced out of his fortress by Sonic, but little was known about the captain's quarters at the time. Robotnik made for an escape pod, and closed the door. Sonic sprinted after him but was too late. A second late. Not even that. He pounded on the glass and the evil scientist took a moment to glare at the hedgehog. "If I can't have Mobius... then no-one can. I hate you hedgehog." He ejected the pod, and pressed a button within. What happened next was... dark. Every single last factory that his robots had constructed, every last hide-out, and his base began to shake. Sonic and friends fled the area faster than the speed of sound and took cover preparing for the worst... before quickly taking shelter underground, being the best option. Mobius was a resourceful planet at the time, so they quickly took as much as they could down there, and blocked the cave-like area off with a solid steel door which came from the old base in Mobotropolis. The factories exploded into bits, sending bits of scraps everywhere, and nuclear fallout scattered the lands.

The Mobians managed to survive underground for many years, a full generation passing, before they had to leave their little hide away spot... they should've stayed inside to be honest. The whole of Mobius was no longer paradise nor heaven. It had undergone a dramatic change from heaven to hell.

The Mobians headed to the ruins of Mobotropolis, and inhabited there since there was plenty of resources in the area, and it provided great shelter from the burning heat of the now intensified sun during the day, and the freezing cold of the night. The sky was never orange, nor blue anymore. It was always a dark gray, since there were just clouds of toxic gases above now. The sky was impossible to see. So much for paradise...

And so begins the tale of "New Mobius"... The Great Forest's population was not the last on the planet, in fact, there were many more locations that were hidden, yet not as important. Many that survived the blasts did so underground, yet there were some that managed to survive outside either due to being extremely lucky, or able to absorb nuclear energy without getting radiation sickness.

There are some that weren't lucky however... and they have in turn, transformed into demonic beings, mutated, looking nothing like a Mobian ever should... beware.


Rules

1) You must post at LEAST a paragraph if you join.
2) This RP is turn based, do not post unless it's your turn.
3) God modding is strictly prohibited; doing so will award you a strike, three means you're out.
4) Powers are allowed, but they must be dramatically turned down or you will not be accepted.
5) Do not meta-game any information. This basically means knowing something in character that you really shouldn't be able to know.
6) Fear role play please. Your character can't be a fearless madman that smirks in the face of say, a death claw.
7) Do not magically find a gigantic gun that can destroy everything. Yes, I know this is based on Fallout, but be realistic.
The Emeralds DO exist, but don't say you have them.
9) Food is never pure unless it's from Mobotropolis. Keep your radiation sickness level in mind.


Applications

Name:
Age:
Powers:
Resources:
Weapons:
Clothing:

Example

Name: Nathan "Darkness" Archemedis.
Age: 15.
Species: Mobian (Wolf).
Powers: Control over negative energy; Used rarely as it induces hallucinations and headaches. Heat resistance; Able to withstand much more heat than most Mobians.
Weaknesses: Can't swim; The water being irradiated and all too doesn't help the fact that he'd drown in any water so long as it's deep.
Resources: Planks of wood, ruined backpack, water bottle, several packets of potato chips, and a couple of cans of beans.
Weapons: Rusty combat knife; Not going to last much longer, but provides protection against what could be out there.
Clothing: A dusty, ripped trench coat with a broken zip that remains permanently opened, filthy trousers with rips at the bottom and knees, spiked bottom boots, and a sheathe for the combat knife.


Apps are open. 3 day deadline begins after the first unique application is posted.

((Squeeing so hard right now))

Name: Daunting Strike
Age: 38
Species: Scorpion
Alignment: Good
Powers: No powers, she just has a venomous tail which causes the body to react slower, and cause fatigue for a few hours. Not lethal, but makes combat very difficult of one is stung.
Weaknesses: Emotionally, Daunting does not like to fail. If she has an objective, she will succeed or die trying, in fear of failure. Of course, that has caused her to suffer severe wounds when she almost bowed to Death in a raider camp. Didn't end well, and she walks with a slight limp. Slight. She hates showing even the slightest bit of weakness. Of course, when you take every single thing head-on, you're bound to get bullets to the face. Or the kneecap. Hence the limping.
Resources: Med-X. About 5 of the chem, and she's addicted to the pain-numbing abilities. A few stimpacks, by that I mean two. Finally, a single Rad-Away. She's currently trying to find some water. Specifically not radioactive.
Weapons: Her main weapon is a sledgehammer, named 'Mercy'. Her second? A kitchen knife. She has no long-range weapons.
Trained in: Melee weapons, Repair, Speech.
Clothing: Leather Armor. Provides decent protection for most of her body, and is the only decent thing she's managed to scavenge from a camp up north. Her weapons are carried on her back, and she's very protective over them. Unfortunately, that's all she has, and she can't really carry much. Except for Med-X. That takes top-priority.
Current objective: Scavenge an Egg-Co factory for a rumored schematic for a flame sword - code name: Blaze.

---

Name: 'Ranger'
Age: Unknown. Apparently he was alive before the war.
Species: Currently a dragon wearing blue, glowing armor. It's been said he has been multiple species before in the past, but the armor stays the same.
Alignment: Very good
Powers: Due to being a dragon, he can breathe flames from his mouth. The armor seems to influence it, making the flames an ethereal blue.
Weaknesses: The body seems... frail. Like, so frail he seems to have trouble moving half the time. That's why the dragon stays in the Freedom News broadcast tower.
Resources: Ranger does not travel in the wastes. He is, instead, the 'light in the darkness' and speaks to an audience all over the wasteland from the FNB tower. Not many get to meet him, due to it being a heavily guarded mass of concrete jutting into the nuclear sky.
Weapons: He carries single plasma pistol on a hostel, in his clothes not covered by the strange, hypnotic armor.
Trained in: Speech, Barter, Energy Weapons.
Clothing: A green and blue dragon, the clothing it wears slightly torn from time and not being attended to. What's most important is the armor - it covers most of the body, and seems to give off an eeiree blue light, as if it's not truely from this realm. The armor seems to draw more attention than the actual appearance of the dragon.
Current Objective: Deliver news across the Wasteland. Like always.

"Hellooooooo wastelanders! Ranger here, your voice in these dark and dreary times! Now Ranger here knows what you're all thinking: 'Why hasn't this all-powerful, all-knowing DJ of the wastes told us exactly what's been going on throughout the past few days? What the hell happened?'. Now he's awfully sorry, heroes, but this DJ's been dealing with... technical difficulties. And by 'technical difficulties', he means there's been an attack on the FNB tower. That's right, children, the Metal Beasts decided to take a bite of ol' Ranger here."

The radio buzzed, the voice of this strange yet charismatic individual echoing throughout the steel walls of Black Knothole's bar: One Last Drink. It was a rather large place, considering Black Knothole itself was very small in comparison to, say Station Square to the West or Dingo City to the South-East. You see, the town of Knothole was hit first by one of the explosions from the many factories which shook the each so long ago, and this massive outlet of energy caused the once-thriving forest town of Knothole to rot and decay into a black, dead ruin. A black, dead ruin which, over time from survivors, turned into a small settlement reinforced with steel plates as a barrier against the terrifying, mindless raiders creeping throughout the South Island. Inside this steel mini-fortress was, well, more steel. Black Knothole was no longer built on the lush of trees, no, but rather on metal and hard work. Various platforms, leading upwards, led to higher ground, though the platforms didn't exactly look... sturdy. Several small shacks were built to house residents, or what little there were. Roughly a population of fifty? Wasn't the greatest number for a town.

"Just to clarify, heroes, if you ain't seen a Metal Beast before, consider yourselves lucky. For all those who live either under a rock or in a ProwerTech Vault, Ranger supposes he'll have to explain to all you lucky, lucky bastards out there..."

On the ground of the town were two most important things - a place to heal and a place to drink. Now our story with this hero begins in 'One Last Drink', a bar known for giving a little too much booze for a little to few caps. People didn't really know why prices were cheaper than the rest of the wasteland, most just assumed the staff were nice. Others, the more suspicious, paranoid types, stayed away from the place, believing it was where the 'staff' pick-pocketed drunk souls too busy getting another to notice their caps and ammo missing. If you ignored those rumours, and the greedy grins some people gave to others wishing to drink, you could find it a pretty nice bar!

"Now these metal malicious monstrosities ain't the type of creature to maim you instantly, no no. These things are cruel, deadly and smart. They say these hellish contraptions were built before the war by ol' Warlord Robotnik, and were used to attempt to slay the famous Blue Blur himself, so of course you gotta know by now these things mean serious business. Originally it started with only a few, but once the wasteland settled to be livable, apparently these beasts used spare parts laying about to multiply themselves by the hundreds. Hundreds, heroes."

Daunting Strike sat at a table, her face pressed firmly into the wood as she listened to the radio buzzing in the air, a groan escaping her lips. Now, Daunting was a large girl. Not in the weight sense, but she was well built. Very well built. Her leather armor clung tightly around her brown body, though from the scrapes and occasional nicker of material, the defensive wear had clearly seen better days and was currently starting to become damaged from the battles she had fought throughout the past few days. Few days. She had to find something better, perhaps combat armor, and fast before she was waltzing around the wastes in her underwear. What a way to attract raiders to the party, hm? Daunt's unnaturally white hair lolled across her face, covering her eyes as she groaned a second time, only to huff once in an attempt to remove that strand of hair. It returned back to its original position: Failure. Now, in such a drunken state, you'd think Daunting here would be suspectable to those four rumours floating about in hushed whispers, yet her venomous scorpion tail hovered in the air, and no-one would dare come near in fear for a deadly sting. The arachnid's pincers reached out and grabbed the empty bottle of whisky, and brought it to her lips, attempting to get a few more drops from a source which was sucked dry of liquid.

"Those bastard red-eyed machines are filled not only with weapons which can turn you to ash with an unlucky hit and claws which slash through armor, but can also move at incredible speeds. Though above all that, you know what's the most dickish thing about them? Metal Beasts can summon a black shield to protect themselves from all sorts of attack. In the Wasteland, if you look into those glowing red eyes of a Metal Beast, consider yourself dead. They'll give no mercy to us poor living souls."

The scorpion's head lifted from the table ever so slightly. She'd heard of these things before, but never seen one in action. She'd looted the bodies of scavengers with horrific injuries only something artificial could make, and always wondered why there was ash scattered across the floor. The woman shuddered, slamming the depressing empty bottle back onto the table. Her bones felt weak, and she could sense the throbbing pain coursing through her kneecap starting to creep up like a buzz bomber. Which was, needless to say, very noisy and very obvious. Looked like her last Buffout was starting to fade from her system. Great.

"So remember, heroes. If you see a blue blur heading towards you at high speeds, it ain't the Hero of Mobius..."