With the development of Mega Man "X", I have created a new breed of robots. Robots who are not restricted by their programming, who can choose to obey their programming or to go against it. The implications of this are incredible, as "X" could become strong enough to destroy all humanity. The testing done inside the pod will require time, but it will ensure that he is prepared to meet the world when he awakens.
But another factor is that it is unknown to me exactly what will happen if "X" or another robot like him chooses to go against their programming. It could have untold psychological effects, effects that could drive them to madness. I can only pray for the future.
-Dr. Thomas Light, 20XX
The female Reploid dashed through the jungle, her feet hardly touching the ground as she ripped through the undergrowth and foilage. Sparks fell from the hole punched into the back of her left shoulder, and the arm connected to it hung loosely at her blue-painted side, her right arm cannon swinging next to her.
"Shiva, what's going on?! I couldn't reach you for a few moments!" exclaimed an excited female voice through the communication link of the Maverick Hunter.
Shiva's blonde hair flew out behind her as she aimed backward and fired a freezing beam of energy at her pursuers before facing forward again. "I think they have a jamming field set up back there! It's some kind of factory, Cindy, massive! But they're not letting me get back," explained Shiva hurriedly into the headset microphone in front of her mouth.
"Who's not letting you back? I hear gunfire, are you okay?"
"Not going to be for much longer," grunted Shiva as she leapt up to ricochet from tree to tree, taking advantage of her natural agility. "Mavericks, Cindy, they're resurrecting Mavericks! I've got two on my tail right now, can't hold on mu-"
The tree she was aiming to land on next was sliced in half by a shot from behind, and Shiva toppled to the ground as she lost her balance, landing on her front. She tried to raise the arm cannon, but a two-toed foot stomped down onto it, and she looked up into the leering beaked face of a Reploid Ostrich.
"Overdrive!"
"So the girlie knows her Maverick history, eh? Too bad she can't be allowed to go back and tattle on our operation, right Sparkie?" laughed Overdrive as Spark Mandrill swung out from a nearby tree to land with a thud next to the others.
"That is all too certain," growled Spark as he raised his fists above Shiva. "Goodbye, Hunter."
"Shiva, what's happening? SHIVA!!"
Shiva closed her eyes as the fists swung down at her head.
"This is ridiculous!" huffed Cindy, the red-haired and armored operator Reploid who had overseen Shiva's mission as she swept out of Hunter HQ and into the city. "They won't even send anyone out to recover Shiva's body! 'Restricted area,' my foot, something is going on there and I want to find out what!"
But after her temper waned, she realized she couldn't go alone. She would need help to go into obviously hostile territory, against Maverick Hunter HQ's orders, to at least see what Shiva had seen before she had been destroyed.
And if they're resurrected Mavericks...resurrection of Reploids with previous Maverick history is strictly forbidden! Something big is going down, and I'm not going to rest until I can avenge Shiva's death! She was my friend...
But she couldn't do it alone...
OOC: All right, now that I'm back from college where I made this spontaneous post, some basic rules to go by for this RP:
Basic premise: To explore the legal and ethical issues surrounding the resurrection of Reploids; to roleplay a variety of characters in the Mega Man X setting; to explore and describe various aspects of the Maverick virus, including the likelihood of developing the virus by going against one's programming.
Characters: You may create a fan character of your own for this RP. Do not use Mega Man X or any other official characters as characters. Do not create or use a fan character who has super-phenomenal powers like X, Zero, or Axl, i.e. don't create or use a character who happens to be based on X's schematic, or is the "brother" of Zero. Your characters may have similar concepts, like using a beam saber or arm cannon, but shouldn't just be super-powered ripoffs or "relatives" to officials. Official characters may be seen as NPCs as we go along.
You may choose either a human Reploid or an animal Reploid. Animal Reploids are often used for dangerous work in various environments and are adapted to their designed work environment. However, they also are slightly more unstable mentally and can regress into animalistic behavior. If you choose an animalistic Reploid, just keep this in mind as you express that character's personality traits.
You may consider different professions for your character; the game Mega Man X: Command Mission introduced the idea of not only Maverick Hunters, but of operators (Reploids, usually female, who are specially designed to interface with electronic support and communication equipment), bounty hunters (Reploids who aren't affiliated with the Maverick Hunters but have combat capabilities and sell their services to the highest bidder), mechanics and nurses (mechanics repair machines, nurses repair or "heal" other Reploids), scientists and researchers and even thieves. Note that these are not the only possibilities, especially for the animalistic Reploids who may be designed for specific work.
Any questions that anyone might have, please ask and we can talk about things. Feel free to join in.
I'll give this a shot.
Name: Salsa
Race: Human-model Reploid
Affiliation: Bounty Hunter
Appearance:www.deviantart.com/deviation/8874745/
Weapon: Arm-mounted sonic cannon
IC: "and THAT's what you get for trying to spike my drink, chump!" A purple-clad Reploid threw another Reploid out of a bar she was in, walking out after him. The other Reploid scurried to his feet and ran off. As Salsa turned around to go back in, she noticed the red-clad Reploid. "You seem to be in a hurry, missy."
RAWL.
MODEL NAME: Griever
MODEL TYPE: Human-model Reploid
AFFILIATION: Maverick Hunters
APPEARANCE:
Griever is a male-based human-model reploud, standing just over 6 feet tall.
He wears a black helmet, with three short gold 'fins', one on each side, and the last on top. The visor is a one-way black glass panel.
Body armour is rather bulky, and makes him appear much more larger than he really is, and is somewhat reminescent of medieval knight armour, but with a 'cyber-punk' feeling to it. The armour itself is black, with it's sub colour gold. Metal draconic wings are grafted upon his back, but are just intergrated into the armour.
WEAPONS: A 20-shot energy pistol, and an energy blade which takes the form of a large broadsword.
-IC-
The Reploid was working at one of the computer stations within the Maverick Hunters headquarters, a grim expression upon his face, as his fingers tapped furiously at the keyboard.
He was there in the control room when they lost contact with Shiva, another Maverick Hunter. He didn't have a mission, and decided to spend his time there. If was part of the many who believed the threat of the Maverick virus was over, but it seemed as though he, and the rest who knew of the incident, wrong.
Now, he was trying to find as much information he could about the Mavericks, from their origins, to what has happened to them, and up until now. There were records which had been kept secret from the public. Hundreds of them, and if he was human, his skin would've crawled.
But in the end, he found naught which would help him. He frowned, and logged out. He had heard seen Cindy's frustration earlier over the loss of Shiva. He couldn't blame her, he knew they were friends. She was incredibly distraught about it.
It then clicked. If anyone wanted to do something about Shiva, it'd be her. He decided that he should find her.
A little while later, and not finding her in the headquarters, he had been told she just left. So, he took the streets, in search of her, and found her a short while later, near another female reploid near a bar.
Cindy almost didn't stop when she was approached by the purple female Reploid who stepped out of a nearby bar. Who was she to barge into her business?
But Cindy felt the tears welling up in her eyes before she could stop herself, and she halted, looking down toward the pavement. What WAS she in a hurry for? She wasn't a battle Reploid! What hope did she have...
"I just lost one of my best friends," she found herself saying hurriedly, as if the words just had to escape from her mouth, "and I'm going to avenge her death, I have no idea how, but I'm going to do it!"
"Are you going alone?"
Cindy snapped up to look at the speaker, whose tall dark-armored form now stood nearby. "Griever? B-but I'd have to go alone, the place where Shiva died is in a restricted zone! If anyone back at HQ knew what I was doing, I could get court-martialed..."
"Hrmph. Which is why you need someone like me. Name's Salsa, I hunt freelance." She smirked. "For a nominal fee, of course, but we can discuss that later."
Griever's sharp eyes darted over the purple-clad Reploid. A freelancer. He should've known. He frowned in disgust. He didn't particuarly like their type. Personally, he didn't want to associate with their type unless it was absolutely necessary.
"If anyone knew you were going," he had stated, his gaze turning back to Cindy. "Look, I'm just as interested in the Maverick activity, and why the Hunters aren't doing anything," he had said. "I'm going with you."
Things just keep getting better and better, thought the red armored reploid from his perch on the upper floor of a condemned warehouse. Below him sat his quarry, a service-industry reploid named Reggie-121. Ordinarily, Reggie would be assisting humans as they shopped at the department store on 50th street. But today, he was picking up a cargo hauler to take out of the city. Reports showed that he'd been doing this once a month for the last 6 months.
However, what the reports had never mentioned was the human contact. He was a little fellow, thin and unimpressive. He looked like he normally wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone be the workhorse in a reploid slave-trade organization that had been responsible for the abduction of over one hundred reploids over the past 6 months. It was a complication. Not a big one, but a complication nonetheless.
"Crash," the reploid's comm buzzed. "I've got the hauler secured out here. Looks like 26 reploids, both service industry and construction-grade."
"Good job, Flash," Crash buzzed back. "I'll secure both packages." Crash raised his right arm, which had changed into an arm cannon. He adjusted the firing mechanism, making sure to select the EMP setting. I hate live captures. No artistry in it. Satisfied that it was calibrated properly, he raised the arm cannon and fired.
Reggie-121 gasped, his audio receptors picking up the quiet sound of Crash's shot being fired. It was far too late, however. The projectile struck him in the midsection and then... did nothing except for give off a blue pulse. Reggie looked at it for a second, not knowing what was going on. Suddenly, the projectile shattered and Reggie suddenly lost all control over his body. He sagged to the ground, like a puppet who's strings had been severed.
The human shrieked and started to run away, but ran into Crash and fell over backwards. Crash glared at the human, his arms folded.
"Wha... what are you doing?" the human stammered.
"Interrupting your little exchange, it looks like. Now stay put while the police show up for you."
The human got to his feet, his fear leaving him. "Or what, scrap-heap? Not like you can stop me by force, eh? You can't hurt me, I know the laws of your kind and you can't..." The human's declaration of legal knowledge was abruptly ended when Crash's fist plowed into his face, bowling him over. Crash followed up the punch by grabbing a needle from a pouch on his side and jamming it into the arm of the human, who yelled out in surprise before going limp.
"Yeah, that's about enough out of you." Crash said as he tossed the needle away. "Enjoy the last peaceful sleep you'll ever have. I've heard your jails have been known to cause some restless nights."
At the south end of the warehouse, the door opened. A grey-armored female reploit walked in. "Car's ready to go, Crash." She looked at the captured reploid and human. "Oh man, we gotta take him to the police station? I hate going over there..."
"I'll take him. You take Reggie over there to the Maverick Hunter HQ and collect our reward."
"Want me to run a scan on him first, see if he can give us leads on any other bounties?"
"Of course, though I have no idea what a little retail puke like him would know." Crash watched Flash walk over to Reggie's body and pick him up effortlessly with one hand.
"So what," Flash asked as she slung Reggie over her shoulder. "Meet you back at the base?"
"I'll prolly hit the bar after I take fleshbag here in, but yeah... meet you at the base. Oh, and tell Quick that he needs to make sure I get more through recon in the future."
Flash nodded as she exited the warehouse. Crash grabbed the prone human and slung him over his shoulder. Maybe I'll get lucky and fleshbag here'll have a bounty of his own that I can collect on. Crash thought. All in a day's work.
Name: Crash
Model: Human-based reploid
Occupation: Bounty Hunter
Appearance: Red armor, rather plain looking. Wears a red helmet with a blast visor that's always swung down to protect his face.
Armament: Dual arm cannons equipped with selectable explosive or EMP payload. A backup energy pistol holstered inside a compartment in his right leg.
"Th-thank you for your help," said Cindy, bowing slightly out of respect and because she felt overwhelmed. Was this what it was like to start a rebellion? "I promise I'll find a way to pay you back, Salsa. And you as well, Griever. You're both risking a lot to do this. But, now..."
Cindy turned and looked down the street. "Now we just have to find a way to get to the location. It's located in the far southern quadrant of the continent, in a rainforest in Sector 2-B. To get there we'll have to find some kind of transportation, but there isn't a chance that we'd find any pilots who'd be willing to take us over the mountains and into the jungle."
"Correction, not any government-run pilots," said Salsa with a wink. "I've got some contacts at the airport, we can find someone to take us where we need to go."
Cindy thought that she detected a hint of disapproval in Griever's expression at this, and Cindy herself had to admit she wasn't sure she liked the idea of working with the seedier elements of Reploid Society. But she knew that Shiva wasn't afraid of anything...she had to be more like Shiva.
"Then let's do that."
A mysterious figure watched the group from the top of a nearby building. "Breaker Nine, this is Cipher. They're headed to the airport now. I'll update you with their progress...what? Interference with our other operations? It appears these aren't the only ones who are getting in the way. I'll deal with these ones, don't worry."
And with that, the figure vanished.
Griever didn't like this.
He was willing to risk his safety and Cindy's safety just to get to the truth behind the Maverick operations, and recover Shiva's body, as his secondary objective.
From leaving HQ unnannounced, to joining Cindy and a freelancer Reploid, which wasn't a Maverick Hunter, which he wasn't exactly too fond of.
And then they'd be taking an illegal flight, into Maverick territory, with the aid of this freelancer. He didn't want to have to go through this, but if it was to benefit other Mavericks if he were to go an uncover the truth which Shiva was unable to do, then it just may be worth it.
But no, he didn't like this one bit. He didn't like it at all.
Salsa let out a sigh as her internal CPU made arrangements with one of her contacts. She knew her profession wasn't too well-respected, but she enjoyed the freedom of being a bounty hunter too much to listen to anyone's orders.
Crash hummed a tune whos name he couldn't recall at the moment as he strolled away from the police station. The human hadn't been worth much, only 500 credits, and Crash had been forced to spend 10 minutes explaining to the detective in charge that the human's face had been that bloody and misshapen before he'd ever met him.
Oh well, 500 credits is still 500 credits, he thought. And since it's not planned or budgeted for, I can spend it myself without throwing it into the community pot back at base. Hooray for bad recon. Crash smiled as he continued strolling, knowing just where to spend that money: the bar.
As Crash neared the bar he noticed a familiar face standing outside talking with two reploids. Salsa. No surprise she's there. Crash smirked as he got closer to the group, realising that she hadn't noticed him approaching yet. Perfect vantage point for him to give her crap to pay her back for spiking his drink last month. Without breaking stride, he walked up behind Salsa, who seemed too preoccupied with sending a communication to notice him. With a quick movement, he grabbed her left arm and wrenched it behind her back with a hammerlock.
"Betcha thought you could run forever, didn't ya Maverick? No getting away from me this time!"
This would normally have worked to subdue her...granted, if he'd grabber her RIGHT arm...the one with the buster. The same buster which was now aimed perfectly at his croth. "Lay off the crap, Crash, it was ONE sleeper chip so I could get there first."
Crash whistled as the arm he had behind her head changed into an arm cannon. "That's why we don't share intel with you anymore." Crash let go of her arm and reverted his arm cannon back. "But it's cool. I just got a decent payday today, so I'm not gonna get all confrontational about the past or nothin'."
"So, these two here clients or your new team? If it's the latter, I'll have to warn them that you don't believe in the concept of 'holding your fire for friendlies'. If they're the former," Crash smirked. "Well, I'm just gonna have to warn them about the same thing."
"New clients, Crash," she said, practically breathing ice at the mention of his name. "And not any friendly, just you...don't you feel special?" She raised the left corner of her lip in an indiscernable sneer/smirk, leaving most to wonder which it was.
OOC:
Name : Cerberus
Model : Humanoid
Affiliation : Freelance
Appearance :
- Light blue armour
- Armour is farily bulky
- Joints are black
- Fairly standard looking helmet, with black fin on left hand side
Weapons : None, but has high skills in CQC and is very strong
IC:Cerberus leant against the wheel of his plane, striking a match on the hard rubber, and bringing it up to light the cigar hanging out of his mouth. Biting hard on the end, he looked out over the runway.
With a sigh, he hung his head and run his hand along the side of the plane. It was a large, dark green bomber plant, modified to fly faster, but obviously, carry a fair bit less. The words 'Fire Falcon' were scrawled along the side in bright purple spray-paint.
"It's ok baby... We'll fly high again one day..." He whispered.
Cerberus used to be a pilot that specialised in illegal cargo, and flying renagade Reploids and bounty hunters anywhere they needed to go... For a cut of any profits of course. But since he was busted after an assassination gone wrong, he's been reduced to scenic flights for old people. He missed the days when he and the Fire Falcon flew high, dodged missles, did barrel rolls all over the wide blue sky...
"Hm?"
Cerberus stood straight up, as a new message hit his system.
"Salsa...? ...Heh!" Cerberus looked up at Fire Falcon and smiled. The dark green paint seemed to smile back. While still staring up at Fire Falcon, he sent a message back to Salsa, letting her know where he and FF were.
"Looks like were gonna fly sooner than we expected!!"
"Thanks." Salsa released the button on her communicator. "I've got a plane secured for us. Hope you don't mind non-official flights."
"Goin' on a road trip, eh?" Crash smirked. "It's a good thing I already made a good-sized collection today, or else I'd see fit to stick my nose in and collect your payday as well." Crash shrugged as he spoke. "I suppose I'm just too much of a gentleman to deprive you of all your work."
Crash smiled and waved as he started to walk towards the front door of the bar. "Anyway, I'm off to get a couple drinks. Enjoy your contract, Salsa."
Crash turned away as he entered the bar, a crooked smile on his face. And the last word is mine this time, he thought.
"Thanks, I will." Last word indeed.
