Malakitona
20-06-2006, 09:32
This is an open RP for the creation of the Nations of South Aden, a federation of Nations in the region of South Aden. All Players welcome, but those in the Nations of South Aden, please play a central role in this.
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Background:
The region of South Aden has always had an affinity for warfare, always a conflict, always trouble. For a time, there were no nations in the region, just local warlords and gangs, bringing constant suffering to the populace of South Aden. Nations from all over were trying to stabilize it. They were giving arms and money to whoever they thought was the strongest candidate, the most likely to take control. This fed the fire, brining about more war, more chaos, more suffering.
There was a day when Jared Kitonas, a young man from Lidencia, a war-ravaged city in South Aden had enough. He had to do something. With him, started the foundation of Malakitona, the first of the Nations of South Aden.
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Location: Delutha Residential Zone, Apartment Complex 3D
Time: 01:00 Aden Central Time
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The local Warlord was trying to purge the streets of any rabble he saw unfit, for this was his city. His forces went door to door, grabbing anyone they could see and draggin them to the streets. From there... Well... This is where Jared realized...
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Jared woke up very suddenly, his sleep disturbed by automatic weapons fire. He leaped out of his bed, reached under it, and grabbed the .45 pistol he hid there. Working the action back, he crept carefully to the window of his apartment. He peeked outside and saw the unthinkable: Soldiers mudering countless men, women, and children, executing them out in the streets. He closed his eyes as he heard the shots, the screams. His back scraped on the wall as his slid down slowly, trying to block out the terrible noises that were coming from the streets below. He poped his head back up, hoping the slaughter was over. It was then he saw a young girl, no older than five, being dragged out of her home. She was kicking and screaming, yelling out for her mother. She struggled helplessly, her body twisting and turning as the soldier continued to drag her mercilessly by her arm. She was brought to the sidewalk and executed, a three-round burst from an AK-47 straight to her head. It was an image Jared never forgot: Her brains splattering all over the sidewalk, her last scream for her mother, her bloodsoaked body left to rot in the middle of the street. Jared couldn't take his eyes off of the grotesque scene, his eye transfixed by the pure brutality of the soldier. After a few moments, he ran to the bathroom and splashed some water in his face. He looked at himself for a moment. He was a dark man, his skin a rich carmel color; he was also pretty tall, measuring at around 6' 5"; he was fairly fit, his muscles well developed. He was wearing a dirty white T-shirt and black pajama pants at the moment. He started to shake as he remembered the horrid scene from only moments ago. He wiped the image from his mind and focused on the immediate danger: After the soldiers slaughtered her, they moved towards his apartment building. He knew what awaited him if he stayed, so he ran to his bedroom once more and started grabbing what he needed and stuffed it into his suitcase. Clutching his .45, he tucked it into the front of his pajama pants. Out the door he ran, running down the stairs, wanting to get away...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Background:
The region of South Aden has always had an affinity for warfare, always a conflict, always trouble. For a time, there were no nations in the region, just local warlords and gangs, bringing constant suffering to the populace of South Aden. Nations from all over were trying to stabilize it. They were giving arms and money to whoever they thought was the strongest candidate, the most likely to take control. This fed the fire, brining about more war, more chaos, more suffering.
There was a day when Jared Kitonas, a young man from Lidencia, a war-ravaged city in South Aden had enough. He had to do something. With him, started the foundation of Malakitona, the first of the Nations of South Aden.
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Location: Delutha Residential Zone, Apartment Complex 3D
Time: 01:00 Aden Central Time
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The local Warlord was trying to purge the streets of any rabble he saw unfit, for this was his city. His forces went door to door, grabbing anyone they could see and draggin them to the streets. From there... Well... This is where Jared realized...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jared woke up very suddenly, his sleep disturbed by automatic weapons fire. He leaped out of his bed, reached under it, and grabbed the .45 pistol he hid there. Working the action back, he crept carefully to the window of his apartment. He peeked outside and saw the unthinkable: Soldiers mudering countless men, women, and children, executing them out in the streets. He closed his eyes as he heard the shots, the screams. His back scraped on the wall as his slid down slowly, trying to block out the terrible noises that were coming from the streets below. He poped his head back up, hoping the slaughter was over. It was then he saw a young girl, no older than five, being dragged out of her home. She was kicking and screaming, yelling out for her mother. She struggled helplessly, her body twisting and turning as the soldier continued to drag her mercilessly by her arm. She was brought to the sidewalk and executed, a three-round burst from an AK-47 straight to her head. It was an image Jared never forgot: Her brains splattering all over the sidewalk, her last scream for her mother, her bloodsoaked body left to rot in the middle of the street. Jared couldn't take his eyes off of the grotesque scene, his eye transfixed by the pure brutality of the soldier. After a few moments, he ran to the bathroom and splashed some water in his face. He looked at himself for a moment. He was a dark man, his skin a rich carmel color; he was also pretty tall, measuring at around 6' 5"; he was fairly fit, his muscles well developed. He was wearing a dirty white T-shirt and black pajama pants at the moment. He started to shake as he remembered the horrid scene from only moments ago. He wiped the image from his mind and focused on the immediate danger: After the soldiers slaughtered her, they moved towards his apartment building. He knew what awaited him if he stayed, so he ran to his bedroom once more and started grabbing what he needed and stuffed it into his suitcase. Clutching his .45, he tucked it into the front of his pajama pants. Out the door he ran, running down the stairs, wanting to get away...