Forums » General Roleplay » The Dominion Project

A long time in the future, something called the Dominion Project would be established.

It was originally a rebel group, but soon, after a great war ended, it turned rather corrupt. How corrupt? It became a Dictatorship. A couple years into the future, after the Founder's vaccination stopped, they fell ill to a disease plaguing most of the population and soon died. And that's when it fell apart. A new leader rose up, and caused havoc upon the world. He took away the rights of the people, and his successor did the same.

Soon, a person wasn't allowed even a personality anymore.

And that's where our story leaves us, in the world of 3209. The skies have turned grey and the sun shines not as bright, and green is a colour long extinct. The people wear marks over their eyes, with blurred lines and an everlasting smile, even if the real expression of the individual is blank.

But hey, not all hope is lost. Word on the street is another rebel group is being established. SOS, or something like that. So the choice is yours. Live life as cattle but be in peace, or fight your way to the top.

Let's just hope it doesn't end up being another Dictatorship, 'ey?

Holy hell I've been waiting for a roleplay like this. Sign me the hell right up.

Sure thing, mate~! Though, I'll have you know this is the actual roleplay forum We have a Looking For thread up, but hey, jump right on in~! Though just know, this is a low fantasy, highish sci-fi (Maybe even steampunk?) story that is welcoming plot and world building!

Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I went to "general roleplay" instead of "looking for rp" and didnt even realize. But thanks for letting me in anyways, real nice of you.

(I am really, reeaaallly sorry if I mess this up. I can edit it if you'll have something against it.)

7 30AM. Sho opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling.
The staring took only three seconds - no more, or he might've been in trouble of doing nothing. Three seconds of freedom. Three seconds of his own silent rebellion against the system.
And then those three seconds passed, and Sho had to get up and get dressed. Not a word, not a sound. Not even a sigh or a yawn. Get up. Make the bed. Go to the wardrobe. Get identical clothes. Get dressed.
All very methodical, all in the same order, every day exactly the same actions, exactly the same clothes, at exactly the same time.
But not the same thoughts. It was the only thing that was his.
And you'd think that for someone who wants to go against the system, he'd by thinking something along the lines 'let's-make-a-plan-to-end-this', or at least 'lets-find-a-way-to-rebel-some-more'. But no. Because Sho being Sho, he was thinknig of something entirely different.
I wonder how sunny it'll be today, he thought cheerfully. Maybe there won't be a cloud in the sky? If so, I should try to spend as much time outside as possible. I could mow the grass? No, I did that yesterday---I'm hungry. Do I have butter? Man, I hope I hadn't ran out, yesterday I went crazy and took two grams more than usual. Bread with ham isn't the same without some butter in between. THere has to be some butter. I definitely have some, right?

That was Sho. Cheerful on the inside even if completely passive and lloking down-right sad on the outside. In a way, that might've been a rebellion of it's own---But Sho didn't think of it that way. He didn't think of anything, much, that wasn't in some way entertaining or wasn't about food.

This was the day... The Rusted Army ended. (look on character profile for info)
The Rusted Army, having kidnapped and enslaved everyone's second cousin and so forth, was finally about to be in shambles. They were an enemy to everyone, and they knew it. They prepared for the worst, but it wasn't enough. The Emerald Conglomerate, White Stronghold, and some factions from the Bloodied Falcons territory, launched a massive attack on The Rusted Army at the crack of dawn. The attack was quite successful, having blown up and destroyed major buildings and headquarters of The Rusted Army as well as taking out quite a sum of their infantry and artillery, but they were still fighting.

Lyrebird, the man in charge of the whole major faction, had escaped to the Far East, across the ocean. Word had spread, and the factions knew of his discreet escape. They needed someone to hunt him down and end it, once for all. Put the faction to shambles so-much-so, that it can never rise up again.

And Ein...
...had taken that job.


The next day was dreary, cloudy, and pouring rain. Never the less, he was waiting on the makeshift runway, awaiting the plane to pull up from it's hangar. The plane had driven out, and screeched to a stop, the back opening up. Several Conglomerate soldiers walked in, and he walked in last. He took a seat, and strapped on the belts. He breathed slowly for a moment, thinking about his current situation. He's flying across the ocean to hunt down a man that was pretty much the worst person on the planet. It wouldn't be so bad, if, nobody since the collapse knew what was going on over there, or even if it still exists. This was going to be a long flight......

Viktor springs into action a few seconds before his alarm clock starts ringing on 7:30 am sharp. Periodically giving himself a slap to clear his mind more quickly of the sleep he had just gotten out of, he dumps two pieces of bread into a toaster before striding down the single and very short hallway to open a door. He then heads through the doorframe with a smile, into a bathroom that claustrophobic people would have nightmares of. Racing his morning routine, and so far winning to his delight, to try and gain a few extra precious seconds, Viktor curses at himself as his razor puts a small cut into the underside of his chin, rubbing the wound gently as he takes a swift shower without letting his thoughts stray to the more philosophical. After finishing up his bathroom routine, he heads on over towards his kitchen, preparing for the bread to pop out of the toaster and taking them as soon as they pop up. Wolfing down his breakfast and donning his usually work attire of bloody butcher clothes, Viktor stops right in front of the door out of his apartment, and glances at a clock to see that he shaved off another 2 seconds today, compared to last week.

Viktor grins even more, and looks under the clock to pat a pair of masks, one which would cover his eyes, and another which would cover his mouth. The butcher then heads back into his bedroom, pulling a thin book out from one of many hiding places, this one taped to the back of a drawer. Flipping through it, Viktor settles on a page halfway through a chapter about the main ateries in a healthy human's thigh, mentally cross referencing it with the local police officers plated armour. Spending only the most necessary time, Viktor tapes the book back in place after reading the page, heading on out to work at a meat factory partially responsible for supplying a large portion of the country with subtly drugged steaks, to keep the populace that more docile and unthinking.

It had been about an hour. Endlessly gazing at the deep blue water below can really get guy thinking about his life. Too bad that was about to end. After all, long moments of solace and peace nowadays, atleast in the west, are a rare commodity.

The pilot had spotted land, aswell as a city or town in the not far off distance, and announced it over the loud speaker in the plane. The soldiers unstrapped their seatbelts, and put on parachutes, Ein also did so. The soldiers moved a large metal box-looking thing towards the back of the plane. The back opened, and they shoved it out, and dropped one by one, Ein being the last.

The descent was windy, but not too bad to put them off course. The metal box had landed and gave a faint thunk upon hitting the ground. The soldiers landed, some stuck up in trees, but they quickly cut themselves down. Ein was the unlucky one. He landed on a rock. Ouch. No matter. Tis only bruises on both knees. He unbuckled from his parachute, and walked over to the rest of the soldiers. They were fiddling with the box, and not a moment later, it began unfolding itself into a sort of temporary base of operations, complete with a radio, basic survival gear, solar panels, a key coded door, a military grade laptop, and crappy dollar store metal folding chairs.

Meh, it was good enough atleast. He walked inside and sat down, while one of the soldiers was already speaking back to the pilot on the radio, while the others pulled up some chairs and started playing poker with a deck of cards.

People were everywhere, wandering mindlessly, without goal or objective. Some were gathering food, others objects of use. Most notably were the people hiding in wait, not wearing their masks. Fools, they were, to think they could make a change. Less could easily report them, but sadly, Less had not the tongue to do so. So what? Less would get someone else to do so? Heck no. So he'd just have to-

Gunshots.

He heard gunshots.

They had somehow, in some way, gotten firearms.

It was rather unheard of to have such things. Instant death, it was, to those who owned or fired those evil things. Ah, but it was nice to be able to smell something for a change... Until the Organisers would come, of course. But they wouldn't come that-

You know, maybe Less should just be quiet, huh?

John woke up that morning to the sound of gun shots. Of course, he had no idea what this noise was, but it was different and added that extra bit of flavor into his life thay he so desperately clung to mentally. Though it was also morning like this he was glad to at least be alive. This way he could attempt to make a difference or die trying, in some kind of respectable way, but the possibility of this wasso far fetched and impossible it rarely even crossed his mind anymore. Must be what they put in the food...

Either way, John never truly felt like a lost cause. There was a sliver of rebellion inside him and and slightly larger sliver of sunshine. Even with his supposedly "programmed" emotions he still found ways of at least thinking happily.

All the same, he got out of bed to start his morning routine: breakfast, shower, dressed, and out the door for work. Same thing every single day, though not like it was ever any different from before all this dictator nonsense, so he didn't mind this never changing routine.

It had been about 45 minutes since they landed. The soldier on the radio already confirmed to the pilot and back to the Conglomerate that the group had landed safely, and had joined the others in the poker game, leaving the radio on incase any more chatter came through. They were East of the shore, in a forest of elderberry & evergreen trees. Ein had spent the time cleaning and preparing his Vintorez and knife. It was finally time to head out.

He grabbed his gun, and put the thick leather strap around him, and sheathed his knife into a trench-coat pocket. He opened the door and started walking towards the city in the distance...

A bullet whizzed past Calvin's face. Causing him to dive to the ground, listening as the cracks resounded around the area. While on the floor he slowly looked around to get a grip on the situation and saw the men with firearms. That frightened him, tears welling in his eyes. To himself he began to wonder how society had become like these. These thoughts he quickly pushed to the back of his mind, while he liked to think about human psychology this was not the time for it.

As he lay there, taking in the situation he began to think for a few seconds of joining the men, turning against the government which had them conforming. However that was something he could never do, he had read the history and knew that their current leadership had overcome a repressive government in the past. He believed that it still had the good intentions, however more than anything else it was his government, one which he would not betray. As he consciously made the decision to stay loyal be began to wonder what he could do to help.

As Viktor rounded a corner on his usual route to the factory, bullets flew from left to right and right to left in front of him, blocking his way. Perhaps the busy, tiny sounds of explosions should've alerted him to the fact that there was a shootout going on, but who has time to waste any time? Certainly not Viktor, already feeling an odd nagging at the back of his mind as he took in the firefight, seemingly patiently waiting for an opening, anything other than to take another way. Not noticing at first, Viktor starts moving forward again, running for a cover nearby while whipping his head from side to side. Finally registering how he was crouched behind a low wall, with one hand searching for something sharp, Viktor started slipping from cover to cover.

Viktor gets a pang of anger in the form of a twitch, as he feels how all that time he had saved up started to diminish, quickly fighting it down as he tried to catch up without catching a bullet. He still tried looking for some kind of weapon, because how could these sloppy people just go ahead and try to break the system like this? They have to be shown how to do this, and before Viktor properly knew it, he had fully given up on the notion of getting to work early, now dedicating his time to finding something. He has to settle on a shard of glass, finding it among other shards from a shot down window. Carefully clutching the wider end of the glass in his sturdy gloves, Viktor moves into hiding in an attempt to stay out of the gunnners' sights.

[Sorry for no replies. I'm still interested in this, though.]

Sho had put one foot outside of his door when the gunshots started.
He froze, not daring to move, not knowing what was happening, or where. He stood silently, waiting for the gunshots to start again.
When they did, and now, expecting them, Sho was able to more or less judge where they came from - and it sounded as if they were headed towards the city.
His eyes trailed up to look in that direction. He didn't live in the city; he never liked the grayness of it. He lived on the outskirts, the forest hugging his house from almost all sides but the front. So now, knowing where the gunshots came from, he slightly relaxed, thinking he wasn't in immediate danger.
He walked back inside the house and closed and locked the door instinctively, at a loss what to do. He had already put on his mask, having been about to leave; but now he didn't know what to do next.
Unlike most, Sho's mind wasn't as fogged by drugs since he didn't buy meat from the butcher's. His dislike for the city was so strong he had decided to become a lumberjack and just live off what the woods gave, buying only bread and dairy from the nearest shop to him. Of course that also was slightly drugged... But not as much.
Had Sho, at the time, thought of the consequences of his decisions, he might have acted against them. But Sho being Sho, impulsive and ignorant of almost everything, he had just done so without thinking it through. And quite probably the not-thinking part of his decisions was why he was allowed to lead the life he did in the first place.

After a moment of blankness, not knowing what to do, he simply shrugged it off and unlokced his door again, grabbed his handy chainsaw and headed towards his work spot.
The city's problems are the city's problems, he thought cheerfully, though no happiness was visible on his face. My problems are my problems.
With that thought, he reached the place he had ended the day before and continued with his monotonous work of cutting down the trees.

Ah, so they had finally arrived. He turned around, away, from the frightful scene. Giant Mechs of some kind came crashing down on the situation, 'containing' the hooligans, walls of light surrounding them. These bots, the Organisers, would keep them in one place, until He would grace them with excitement, fear, respect and hate all in one. The Dominant. Less would see this man walking towards the scene with an overly stretched grin, unnerving at the least. His mask was different- it lacked a blur. Instead, the right side of the mask had a closed eye, the left with an odd red eye painted on, a chilling reminder and tribute to the Founder of Dominion. Less didn't know whether or not to run or stay, and probably chose the foolish option of the latter. Yet the Dominant (thankfully) dismissed Less' presence, focusing on the ones without masks. Raising a hand with a remote control, the people screamed out, and... It wasn't exactly a pretty sight. But, at least no-one will be hurt by those idiots, right? Their bodies were taken away by the Organisers, and would probably be dumped off at the nearest stop. Thank whoever was still watching them from above that that didn't grow worse. Ah, what was His name again..? It started with a N, yeah? Ahah... Maybe it wasn't best to rack your brain over, huh? The Dominant was still present, after all. And it'd be a shame if Less would be punished for odd behaviour.

Ein continued to walk through the western woods, getting ever closer to the city, until he would be able to hear the faint sound of a chainsaw. He goes crouched, in-case the person running it was like one of those Bloodied Falcon maniacs. He can"t see any immediate danger, so he continues on his way, crouched in tall grass and going through shrubs.