Sarakins
Bumbling citizen
Over a decade has past since the Combine arrived and the world before is little more than a fading memory.
The faces of those you have lost are long forgotten, stolen by the years of suffering that you have endured.
You live your life under the oppressive yoke of our supposed Benefactors, an unfathomable alien empire which you
know almost nothing about. To you the face of the Combine is better represented by the gas-mask wearing thugs that
call themselves Civil Protection. These so-called men have forsaken their morality and now collaborate with the Combine,
acting as fist that cracks down on any act of subversion or malcompliance.
Yet when you reflect upon your own fate, can you truly blame them? Your stomach aches from the paste that you are fed and
your mind fogs from chemical infused water that you drink. Those that join Civil Protection are better fed and cared for than
the common citizen, and for many the thought of a full bell and a warm bed is all that it takes to surrender. To others it is perks
of a more material kind that seduce them to join their ranks. Small luxuries, books, warm clothing, music, sex. Then there are
those that join for all together more sinister reason, those that merely want to lash out at their fellow man, to torment their
brothers and sisters for nothing more than to satisfy their sadistic urges.
Should you choose to persist and hold on to your sense of morality, the path ahead is not an easy one. To the common citizen
the days are long and the nights are cold. Housed within over-crowded tenement blocks your days go by in a timeless haze.
Hard labour and maltreatment designed to force you into submission.
Yet there are those that choose another path, a path infinitely more dangerous, the path of resistance. To fight is to die, you know
that as well as anyone. If it isn't the autonomous scanners that search the streets night and day, then it will be your fellow man that
sells you out for a scrap of bread, or an extra blanket. Life in the underground is frought with danger, as alien monsters lurk the dark
and human monsters patrol the streets above.
So you ask yourself the question. What is your morality worth, is it worth your life?
Hey! I hope you enjoyed reading the above.
I'm someone who is looking for a partner to join me in a long-term tale of oppression and strife.
My ideal partner would be somebody that enjoys playing the GM/narrator (not essential) and shares my passion for character development/emotional depth.
If you enjoy gritty tales of survival and stories set within a world, in which mankind has all but lost it's humanity, then I am sure we'll get along!
As for me, I am a flexible and relaxed roleplayer with many years of experience. I write in paragraphs and have a preference for roleplaying on Discord. I enjoy realistic character interactions and have few limits in regards to content. I live within the GMT timezone.
My primary character: Sarah Atkins
Other settings are of course always considered! Don't worry if you aren't familiar with the setting.
The faces of those you have lost are long forgotten, stolen by the years of suffering that you have endured.
You live your life under the oppressive yoke of our supposed Benefactors, an unfathomable alien empire which you
know almost nothing about. To you the face of the Combine is better represented by the gas-mask wearing thugs that
call themselves Civil Protection. These so-called men have forsaken their morality and now collaborate with the Combine,
acting as fist that cracks down on any act of subversion or malcompliance.
Yet when you reflect upon your own fate, can you truly blame them? Your stomach aches from the paste that you are fed and
your mind fogs from chemical infused water that you drink. Those that join Civil Protection are better fed and cared for than
the common citizen, and for many the thought of a full bell and a warm bed is all that it takes to surrender. To others it is perks
of a more material kind that seduce them to join their ranks. Small luxuries, books, warm clothing, music, sex. Then there are
those that join for all together more sinister reason, those that merely want to lash out at their fellow man, to torment their
brothers and sisters for nothing more than to satisfy their sadistic urges.
Should you choose to persist and hold on to your sense of morality, the path ahead is not an easy one. To the common citizen
the days are long and the nights are cold. Housed within over-crowded tenement blocks your days go by in a timeless haze.
Hard labour and maltreatment designed to force you into submission.
Yet there are those that choose another path, a path infinitely more dangerous, the path of resistance. To fight is to die, you know
that as well as anyone. If it isn't the autonomous scanners that search the streets night and day, then it will be your fellow man that
sells you out for a scrap of bread, or an extra blanket. Life in the underground is frought with danger, as alien monsters lurk the dark
and human monsters patrol the streets above.
So you ask yourself the question. What is your morality worth, is it worth your life?
Hey! I hope you enjoyed reading the above.
I'm someone who is looking for a partner to join me in a long-term tale of oppression and strife.
My ideal partner would be somebody that enjoys playing the GM/narrator (not essential) and shares my passion for character development/emotional depth.
If you enjoy gritty tales of survival and stories set within a world, in which mankind has all but lost it's humanity, then I am sure we'll get along!
As for me, I am a flexible and relaxed roleplayer with many years of experience. I write in paragraphs and have a preference for roleplaying on Discord. I enjoy realistic character interactions and have few limits in regards to content. I live within the GMT timezone.
My primary character: Sarah Atkins
The weather had a deceptive light to it, bright but still bitterly cold. From her vantage point Sarah Atkins
could see at least one fool wearing only his under shirt. She shuddered in sympathy and dropped down
from the wall, landing with a scuffle. Picking herself back up she continued on in her rambling, pushing
further and further away from the perimeter walls.
She had walked on for another 30 minutes before coming to her destination. Before her rose up a great
grey warehouse, mottled with age and encircled by rusted iron fence. With the careless tread of
someone who knew the path well, Sarah travelled on until she came to the familiar gap. Made just large
enough for someone of her size, Sarah lowered herself flat on her stomach and squeezed herself
through. Yet as she crawled her jacket became snagged on the iron and trapped her in place.
“Fucks sake!” Sarah exclaimed as she heard the tearing of fabric. She pulled and in doing so only made
the tear worse. By the time that she was free a good portion of sleeve had been ripped, leaving her
elbow poking out of the camouflaged arm. Standing up she lifted her arm and held the two torn ends
together, as if she could somehow will them back together. “Dad’s gonna kill me.” She muttered, having
now ripped her father’s jacket no less than five times. By now the old army jacket was more patchwork
than DPM.
Playing with the frayed cloth Sarah walked past a row of large red trucks, all of which were overgrown
with fruiting vines that snapped and chipped as she walked past. Paying the fauna no need Sarah
clambered up the loading bay before bending down to lift the shutter. She strained as the shutter lifted,
just enough to allow her to sneak under and into the warehouse.
Hundreds of time yellowed pieces of paper laid scattered about the floor, intermixed with countless
variations of envelopes. Sarah ignored all of these, muddying as she walked on letters of love and
unpaid bills that were never received. With little more than a cursory glance at her surroundings Sarah
adjusted the satchel on her back and made her way towards her prize, the parcel room.
She smiled at the sight, even though she had now seen the place a dozen times or more. Beyond a
twisting mass of resin-like xeno-fauna lay the almost untouched parcel room. Wall to wall, rack upon
rack boxes of varying sizes lay stacked upon one another. The girl could hardly contain her excitement as
she skimmed past the vines and bounded into the room proper. Already a cardboard mountain lay
stacked at one side, evidence of her previous adventures. With no system or reason Sarah set about
demolishing the first box at random, pulling it open with a careless flick of her trusty Swiss army knife.
She tipped the contents onto the floor and delighted as the box within the box landed with the sound of
shattering glass. Laughing Sarah kicked the box across the room, where it landed with an even louder
clatter. After a moments celebration she rushed around to a different rack and ran her hands along in
search of her next prize.
Hours past by as if they were nothing, with Sarah rummaging around happily. Most of the items were
mundane enough, although every once in a while a real curiosity would come about. Earlier it had been
a box field with perfectly wrapped caramels, a rare treat that had gone into her satchel at once. Now it
was a pretty black box that was both darkly seductive and delicately sweet. Curious as ever Sarah pulled
it open only to find to her bemusement a pair of rather impractical looking pair of underwear. Reaching
down inside she took out the bra and let out a snort of amusement. Holding it at arms length she had to
admire the intricate lace work, even if it looked to her hilariously over the top. Being several sizes too
large for her there was never any thought of keeping it, but none the less Sarah slipped the bra on over
her clothing like some upside down superhero, which she found endlessly amusing. The item beneath
however was even more useless , a similarly designed pair of knickers that were obscenely thin on
fabric. Lifting them up with her little finger, Sarah felt a pang of sadness for a moment, realising just how
low on resources people must of been before the Combine. Or course it didn’t stop her from using the
elastic to ping them across the room.
Next she chose a larger box, something that rattled as she picked it up. She contemplated just smashing
it on the floor like she had done with the wine glasses earlier, but instead decided to open this one.
After all, wanton vandalism was thirsty work. When pealing open the first layer however Sarah’s plans
were changed for her, as the box clumsily fell to the floor and shattered anyway.
“Fuck!” She cried out as the sound of broke glass once more filled the sorting office. Only this time
someone heard her.
Sarah flicked her head around, her bright silver eyes growing even wider as she heard the return bleep
of a radio. “.... Fuck...” She muttered as the sound of running footsteps approached.
“Who's in there? Come out at once!” A vocoded voice barked.
“Leave it, it was probably a crow.” A second distorted voice added.
Stood in the open however Sarah soon found herself staring at her own reflection through the lenses of
a Civil Protection officer, who was fortunately too large to fit through the gap in the vines that she had
crawled through. She froze, like a deer in headlights Sarah just stared as the gas mask wearing figure
turned to his comrade.
“Because that looks like a crow to you?” His sardonic tone managing to come through despite the filter
on his mask.
“Looks like a bird enough to me.,” The second figure said as he shoved his head into the gap and
beckoned to Sarah. “Hey you, come here!” Yet as he was saying this Sarah saw the other man reach for
his gun and she darted off out of sight. “Get back here!” The unit shouted, before rounding on his
colleague, “What did you go and do that for?”
“We can’t exactly call it in can we?”
“So your plan was, oh yes miss, please stay still while we shoot you? Fucking idiot.” The two men
continued to bicker out of sight as Sarah clambered about at the back of the room. She already knew of
course that there was only one way in and one way out, but desperation certainly didn’t stop her from
trying.
Seconds became terrifying minutes as Sarah heard the muffled sounds of the men talking but couldn’t
quite make out what they were saying. She was trapped, but with no way out at least they had no way
in, yet. As if reading her mind she saw an arm pushed into the room, in the palm of which was a bulky
metal device.
“Girl! Come here, we know you’re still in there.” He waggled the device about, making it rattle as metal
hit metal inside, “You know what this is right? Sure you do.” She did of course, it was a manhack, inert
for the time being but horrifying deadly if turned on. “So here’s the deal, either you bring your arse back
here right now, or I let this thing go and see what it finds. Got it?”
“Alright! Alright! I got it.” It was hopeless, Sarah was forced to approach, albeit very slowly.
She had a sense that the featureless mask was some how grinning at her as she came into view, but sure
enough the unit withdrew his arm as promised. A second passed in uncomfortable silence, before the
unit pointed back to her and spoke. “I think you’re wearing that wrong.” He said, his voice calm and
level.
Sarah looked down and remembered she was still wearing the lingerie outside of her top, which she
embarrassingly snatched off her shoulders and threw it to the ground, grinning sheepishly as she did so.
“I- I was jus'"
“Looting?” The second unit put in, transforming Sarah’s expression into a horrified look of dismay.
Before she could continue however the unit put up his hand and stopped her. “Don’t, because guess
what missy, today’s your lucky day.”
“I don’t?...” She began, but was once again stopped by one of the units.
“It’s simple, you do something for us, we walk away from this better off and you don’t get a level two.”
His arm returned to the gap in the wall, only this time holding a bag much similar to her own. “Seeing as
your scrawny arse can get in there, fill that up with liquor.” The straps jangled as he shook it at her, “Or
we go back to my original plan, which is I just throw in this here manhack and we go home and you
don’t. So, whadda ya say?” There was no hesitation, Sarah all but snatched the bag out of his hand.
“Smart girl.” He said as he withdrew.
Sarah turned back to the expanse of parcels, many of which were covered in alien mould and toxic resin.
She had already been pushing the safe limits of lingering. “This, uhm, might take a while.”
“You got ten minutes.”
“... Great.” Taking but a moment to look around the place Sarah began to filter through the parcels,
lifting and shaking anything that might be big enough to contain a bottle of some sorts.
“What’s your name girl?” A voided voice asked after a while. When Sarah didn’t respond the voice tried
again, sterner this time. “And digits, I know you can hear us. If you bullshit me I’ll throw a grenade in
there to hurry you up.”
“Sarah Atkins, sir! Five, four, double nine three.” She rolled the well practiced words off her tongue.
Knowing full well that the units on the other side would now be checking her details. Naturally this was
confirmed a moment later.
“Two B or not two B, that is the question.” One of the units said with a self satisfied chuckle.
“Eh?” Sarah responded baffled.
“Your apartment number, Miss Atkins. Not a fan of Shakespeare I see.”
“Never met the guy.” Sarah said dryly, which for some reason the unit who spoke seemed to find this
hilarious.
“Anyway hurry the fuck up in there! We ain’t got all day.” The man's amusement evaporated just as
surely as it had materialised, leading the two unseen men into another muffled debate. All the while
Sarah continued to tear her way through one useless package to another. A cuddly toy there, some
spoiled clothing there, but no alcohol to be seen.
“Right!” One of the toneless units barked, causing Sarah to freeze in her boots. “Time's up! Turns out we
need to get back on patrol after all.”
Panicking Sarah called out in a shrill voice, “No wait! I’ll find some! Just give me a minute!”
“Relax, we ain’t gonna kill you.” Any relief that she might of felt was short lived when the unit continued
in the next breath, “But we will be in touch, Miss Atkins of 2B. We’re all gonna come back here again,
seeing as we’re reckoning you can find us our fortune in this place.” He paused with a chuckle, but Sarah
could already tell his friend had left, “Hell, might even spit the profits if you find anything good. Be
seeing ya.”
With that Sarah’s panic was over, but not before an awkward, “Bye....” Followed by a whispered, “...
Bollocks...”
could see at least one fool wearing only his under shirt. She shuddered in sympathy and dropped down
from the wall, landing with a scuffle. Picking herself back up she continued on in her rambling, pushing
further and further away from the perimeter walls.
She had walked on for another 30 minutes before coming to her destination. Before her rose up a great
grey warehouse, mottled with age and encircled by rusted iron fence. With the careless tread of
someone who knew the path well, Sarah travelled on until she came to the familiar gap. Made just large
enough for someone of her size, Sarah lowered herself flat on her stomach and squeezed herself
through. Yet as she crawled her jacket became snagged on the iron and trapped her in place.
“Fucks sake!” Sarah exclaimed as she heard the tearing of fabric. She pulled and in doing so only made
the tear worse. By the time that she was free a good portion of sleeve had been ripped, leaving her
elbow poking out of the camouflaged arm. Standing up she lifted her arm and held the two torn ends
together, as if she could somehow will them back together. “Dad’s gonna kill me.” She muttered, having
now ripped her father’s jacket no less than five times. By now the old army jacket was more patchwork
than DPM.
Playing with the frayed cloth Sarah walked past a row of large red trucks, all of which were overgrown
with fruiting vines that snapped and chipped as she walked past. Paying the fauna no need Sarah
clambered up the loading bay before bending down to lift the shutter. She strained as the shutter lifted,
just enough to allow her to sneak under and into the warehouse.
Hundreds of time yellowed pieces of paper laid scattered about the floor, intermixed with countless
variations of envelopes. Sarah ignored all of these, muddying as she walked on letters of love and
unpaid bills that were never received. With little more than a cursory glance at her surroundings Sarah
adjusted the satchel on her back and made her way towards her prize, the parcel room.
She smiled at the sight, even though she had now seen the place a dozen times or more. Beyond a
twisting mass of resin-like xeno-fauna lay the almost untouched parcel room. Wall to wall, rack upon
rack boxes of varying sizes lay stacked upon one another. The girl could hardly contain her excitement as
she skimmed past the vines and bounded into the room proper. Already a cardboard mountain lay
stacked at one side, evidence of her previous adventures. With no system or reason Sarah set about
demolishing the first box at random, pulling it open with a careless flick of her trusty Swiss army knife.
She tipped the contents onto the floor and delighted as the box within the box landed with the sound of
shattering glass. Laughing Sarah kicked the box across the room, where it landed with an even louder
clatter. After a moments celebration she rushed around to a different rack and ran her hands along in
search of her next prize.
Hours past by as if they were nothing, with Sarah rummaging around happily. Most of the items were
mundane enough, although every once in a while a real curiosity would come about. Earlier it had been
a box field with perfectly wrapped caramels, a rare treat that had gone into her satchel at once. Now it
was a pretty black box that was both darkly seductive and delicately sweet. Curious as ever Sarah pulled
it open only to find to her bemusement a pair of rather impractical looking pair of underwear. Reaching
down inside she took out the bra and let out a snort of amusement. Holding it at arms length she had to
admire the intricate lace work, even if it looked to her hilariously over the top. Being several sizes too
large for her there was never any thought of keeping it, but none the less Sarah slipped the bra on over
her clothing like some upside down superhero, which she found endlessly amusing. The item beneath
however was even more useless , a similarly designed pair of knickers that were obscenely thin on
fabric. Lifting them up with her little finger, Sarah felt a pang of sadness for a moment, realising just how
low on resources people must of been before the Combine. Or course it didn’t stop her from using the
elastic to ping them across the room.
Next she chose a larger box, something that rattled as she picked it up. She contemplated just smashing
it on the floor like she had done with the wine glasses earlier, but instead decided to open this one.
After all, wanton vandalism was thirsty work. When pealing open the first layer however Sarah’s plans
were changed for her, as the box clumsily fell to the floor and shattered anyway.
“Fuck!” She cried out as the sound of broke glass once more filled the sorting office. Only this time
someone heard her.
Sarah flicked her head around, her bright silver eyes growing even wider as she heard the return bleep
of a radio. “.... Fuck...” She muttered as the sound of running footsteps approached.
“Who's in there? Come out at once!” A vocoded voice barked.
“Leave it, it was probably a crow.” A second distorted voice added.
Stood in the open however Sarah soon found herself staring at her own reflection through the lenses of
a Civil Protection officer, who was fortunately too large to fit through the gap in the vines that she had
crawled through. She froze, like a deer in headlights Sarah just stared as the gas mask wearing figure
turned to his comrade.
“Because that looks like a crow to you?” His sardonic tone managing to come through despite the filter
on his mask.
“Looks like a bird enough to me.,” The second figure said as he shoved his head into the gap and
beckoned to Sarah. “Hey you, come here!” Yet as he was saying this Sarah saw the other man reach for
his gun and she darted off out of sight. “Get back here!” The unit shouted, before rounding on his
colleague, “What did you go and do that for?”
“We can’t exactly call it in can we?”
“So your plan was, oh yes miss, please stay still while we shoot you? Fucking idiot.” The two men
continued to bicker out of sight as Sarah clambered about at the back of the room. She already knew of
course that there was only one way in and one way out, but desperation certainly didn’t stop her from
trying.
Seconds became terrifying minutes as Sarah heard the muffled sounds of the men talking but couldn’t
quite make out what they were saying. She was trapped, but with no way out at least they had no way
in, yet. As if reading her mind she saw an arm pushed into the room, in the palm of which was a bulky
metal device.
“Girl! Come here, we know you’re still in there.” He waggled the device about, making it rattle as metal
hit metal inside, “You know what this is right? Sure you do.” She did of course, it was a manhack, inert
for the time being but horrifying deadly if turned on. “So here’s the deal, either you bring your arse back
here right now, or I let this thing go and see what it finds. Got it?”
“Alright! Alright! I got it.” It was hopeless, Sarah was forced to approach, albeit very slowly.
She had a sense that the featureless mask was some how grinning at her as she came into view, but sure
enough the unit withdrew his arm as promised. A second passed in uncomfortable silence, before the
unit pointed back to her and spoke. “I think you’re wearing that wrong.” He said, his voice calm and
level.
Sarah looked down and remembered she was still wearing the lingerie outside of her top, which she
embarrassingly snatched off her shoulders and threw it to the ground, grinning sheepishly as she did so.
“I- I was jus'"
“Looting?” The second unit put in, transforming Sarah’s expression into a horrified look of dismay.
Before she could continue however the unit put up his hand and stopped her. “Don’t, because guess
what missy, today’s your lucky day.”
“I don’t?...” She began, but was once again stopped by one of the units.
“It’s simple, you do something for us, we walk away from this better off and you don’t get a level two.”
His arm returned to the gap in the wall, only this time holding a bag much similar to her own. “Seeing as
your scrawny arse can get in there, fill that up with liquor.” The straps jangled as he shook it at her, “Or
we go back to my original plan, which is I just throw in this here manhack and we go home and you
don’t. So, whadda ya say?” There was no hesitation, Sarah all but snatched the bag out of his hand.
“Smart girl.” He said as he withdrew.
Sarah turned back to the expanse of parcels, many of which were covered in alien mould and toxic resin.
She had already been pushing the safe limits of lingering. “This, uhm, might take a while.”
“You got ten minutes.”
“... Great.” Taking but a moment to look around the place Sarah began to filter through the parcels,
lifting and shaking anything that might be big enough to contain a bottle of some sorts.
“What’s your name girl?” A voided voice asked after a while. When Sarah didn’t respond the voice tried
again, sterner this time. “And digits, I know you can hear us. If you bullshit me I’ll throw a grenade in
there to hurry you up.”
“Sarah Atkins, sir! Five, four, double nine three.” She rolled the well practiced words off her tongue.
Knowing full well that the units on the other side would now be checking her details. Naturally this was
confirmed a moment later.
“Two B or not two B, that is the question.” One of the units said with a self satisfied chuckle.
“Eh?” Sarah responded baffled.
“Your apartment number, Miss Atkins. Not a fan of Shakespeare I see.”
“Never met the guy.” Sarah said dryly, which for some reason the unit who spoke seemed to find this
hilarious.
“Anyway hurry the fuck up in there! We ain’t got all day.” The man's amusement evaporated just as
surely as it had materialised, leading the two unseen men into another muffled debate. All the while
Sarah continued to tear her way through one useless package to another. A cuddly toy there, some
spoiled clothing there, but no alcohol to be seen.
“Right!” One of the toneless units barked, causing Sarah to freeze in her boots. “Time's up! Turns out we
need to get back on patrol after all.”
Panicking Sarah called out in a shrill voice, “No wait! I’ll find some! Just give me a minute!”
“Relax, we ain’t gonna kill you.” Any relief that she might of felt was short lived when the unit continued
in the next breath, “But we will be in touch, Miss Atkins of 2B. We’re all gonna come back here again,
seeing as we’re reckoning you can find us our fortune in this place.” He paused with a chuckle, but Sarah
could already tell his friend had left, “Hell, might even spit the profits if you find anything good. Be
seeing ya.”
With that Sarah’s panic was over, but not before an awkward, “Bye....” Followed by a whispered, “...
Bollocks...”
Other settings are of course always considered! Don't worry if you aren't familiar with the setting.
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