1 (edited by BFFC Admin Thursday, July 16, 2015 10:56 pm)

Topic: RPG: Biohazard

Disclamer: This RPG is by audition only, meaning send character sheets or ideas to Valthonin@hotmail.com or a PM or to Adeptus through PM or something. We made this RPG together.
Disclamer 2: You may or may not notice that I blatantly take some concepts, ideas, names and/or characters from the movie Blade Runner. Sue me.

RPG: Biohazard

Setting: Chicago, the year 2231. The city is dirty and very industrialized. It has expanded onto Lake Michigan and there are 3 or 4 rivers going through the now gigantic city. Flying cars, but only the authorities and rich and lucky have them, they’re called Spinners. Lots of technology around the city, naturally.

[EDIT: Image no longer online.]

Cryo Corporation Products Incorporated (CCP inc)
An evil corporation that focuses on medical treatments, drugs and stim packs/ serums used by military forces to make their soldiers near superhuman. They have a personal military mercenary force that can be contracted and they have been accused of corruption and foul play in regards to their medical industry numerous times, yet have crushed the allegations with their sheer power and networking. Most people living in Chicago work for them in some way.

General Plot: Chicago is currently a very dystopian city. People are essentially cattle. The government is corrupt, however only in regards to growing monopolies like CCP. At the moment, a top secret convoy consisting of two CCP mercenary cruisers and one Cargo truck are heading into the city to deliver an unknown biological experiment to a private lab owned by CCP. This convoy will begin the main story line, however I encourage you to have mini-plots.

In this RPG, despite it being the future, I really want realism. Meaning no Boba Fetts. The first jet pack I see will incure the wrath of the Lord of the Role Playing Section. Hence the auditions. You can be a regular Chicago Police officer, in which case you can be creative and describe how they are in the future (within limits, no wrist rockets, use Minority Report or the Fifth Element for inspiration) or a CCP mercenary corps, or scientist for CCP, or a SWAT team member when the CCP convoy gets into trouble (which it will) or a renegade robot (keep reading to find out about those) however were only looking for one, it must be evil, humanoid, and used by an experienced RPGer...you know who you are... or you could be a rich board member of CCP (why? money, power, flying car) or you could be a taxi driver or you could be a pedestrian or you could be the future version of your current job or anything in modern or futuristic society. Creativity ppl, use it.


Looking out his private investigator's office window, Cain saw it was still raining. Not surprising.

He turned back to the paper work in front of him. He had to fill out a full report to give to his client, Mrs. Henderson. Apparently her suspicions were correct: Her husband was cheating on her. Not that Cain blamed him. The woman was a nut.

Cain sighed to himself as he wrote out his synopsis. In this particular case, his client didn't want a computerized report, so he was filling out a carbon copy one. He was getting tired of these 'cheating spouses' and 'embezzling co-workers' cases. They put food on the table, but it was nothing compared to Cain's previous jobs. Now-a-days, he had to wait for the Chicago Police Department, with whom he still had connections, to link him cases to work on that they were having trouble with.

FEEEEEP!  Cain’s desk comm goes off, he reluctantly clicks the mic.

“Yes Becky?” Cain calls to his secretary
“Detective Giff is here to see you, Cain.” She says back
Oh please let it be a worth while case.
“Send him-“ Cain was cut off by Giff letting himself in regardless. Giff, a balding barrel chested version of a former successful detective slams the door of Cain’s office with the attitude of someone who lived there.

“I don’t know why you bother with that girl, Cain. She ain’t stopping anyone from coming in here, especially one of those cheating husbands that may wanna kill ya HEH HEH *COUGH*” Giff said as he made his way straight to the liquor cabinet and poored himself some scotch.

“That’s top shelf stuff, Giff. Not some plastic bottle crap, its single malt cask strength.” Cain said as Giff casually poured the scotch whiskey.

“Oh yeah? Well this ain’t a crap case I’m giving you either. This looks like its gonna be a fun one.” Giff says with a wink and tosses a folder onto Cain’s desk. “This dirt bags been running around anonymously killing ‘seemingly’ random people. There have been few witnesses, all we know is he’s a murderer and his name is Gerric (Giff pronounced it with a hard ‘G’). So… have fun.”

Cain nods at Giff and opens the folder to take a look.

File # 331475b
Name: Gerric

Age: Unknown. Estimated between 20 and 35

Gender: Presumed Male

Appearance: Tall, about 6'0 tall, usually seen wearing a balaclava with orangelit goggles. ( Goggles have possible tacticle display) and a black pinstripe suit, with white shirt, black vest and red tie. Tan Trenchcoat, shin length. Black fedora. Below is an isolated security camera’s image of suspect :

[EDIT: Image no longer online.]

Suspect is highly skilled at martial arts, consider armed and extremely dangerous.

Suspect has been sighted multiple times over the past year, murders are brutal and bloody, no detectable pattern.

Wanted for arson, murder, assault on an officer, resisting arrest

“Real A-class weirdo eh?” Giff adds, downing his drink
“Yeah… yeah…” Cain nods, not looking away from the odd picture as he takes a pill out of a bottle from his pocket and pops it into his mouth.


Name: Richard Cain
Age: 42
Occupation: Private Investigator

[EDIT: Image no longer online.]

Weapon: Plager Katsumate Series-D Blaster, Model 2019 Chief's Special

[EDIT: Image no longer online.]

-Cain participated in the Second Galactic Rush War when he was 19-21 years old. It was during this conflict that he contracted an advanced strain of Tuberculosis nicknamed “Cold Killer” because of the severe, characteristic chills the subject suffers during outbreaks. Cain’s Military insurance pays for the DM12 pills he takes to keep the chills away and keep him alive, it does not however kill the Tuberculosis outright. Due to this, Cain must take the pills frequently. The DM12 pills are manufactured by CCP.

-Retired Blade Runner. (Blade Runner units were used for many years during the time when robots being used in society [manufactured by South Western Robotics Corp.] would glitch and go renegade, becoming killing machines. 

-Retired Detective (Dismissed due to a previous case in which he accused the Mayor of Chicago of immense corruption and even discovered his taste for young boys. The mayor quickly had Cain dismissed from the force after his 14 years of faithful service. Revenge is imminent.)

Est Sularus Oth Mithas
I am a Role Playing Gamer, like my father before me.

2 (edited by Adeptus_Astartes Thursday, February 12, 2009 7:27 pm)

Re: RPG: Biohazard

The monster was in her home. And she had let him in. All that stood between her and a potential rapist was a thin wooden door, and the monster out side had plenty to break the door down with. Another bang at the door. She flinched, holding a bass candle holder in her hands, waiting to hear the first snap that meant the door was breaking. Another bang, it almost felt like he was just tormenting her, she closed her eyes wand held the candle holder tighter.

She had met the man at a club he bought her a drink, he seemed nice enough so she had decided to take him home. They talked, and then she had stood up. He grabbed her from behind and she managed to get free and run. She grabbed the candle holder on the way, and locked herself in the bathroom. She was trapped without a way to get help. there wasn't even a window.


Downstairs the doorman for was as usual, extremely bored. He had forgot his music today and was stuck waiting doing nothing. Dark outside, as usual, and drizzling, so there was no reason for him to be here realy, no one except that woman had left, and she was already back. A man in a trenchcoat and fedora came to the door. His face was masked by shadows, but his eyes seemed to be glowing. Not unusual, a lot of lighted goggles and glasses these days. "Sir, this is private property, if your not a resident or relative, I have to ask you to leave, if your here to inquire about an apartment, please come back during business hours." The man didn't stop. "Sir?" The doorman placed a hand on the mans shoulder. Rock hard, whoever he was he worked out extensively. The man stopped, and turned. He was wearing a mouth less ski-mask or balaclava. "You should let me pass". The doorman did.


He was getting through, the door was beginning to splinter


The masked man was up the stairs, he had observed the two leaving a club, he knew where the woman's apartment was, his eyes were sharp and his luck was good tonight. He had been hunting this rapist for two weeks. And he finally had him in his grasp. He made it to the right floor and was at the door. He had to move fast. The apartment was a standard, same as the one in the brochure in lay out. bathroom was the only other lockable door in the room. She would probably be there. He busted the door down. The rapist was in the living room, finding something to hit the door with, the lamp he had been using seemingly wasn't fast enough. The masked man hit him in the back of the head hard enough to take his vision away for a moment. He dragged the rapist thorough the apartment, out to the small balcony. The rapist's vision was returning, but only long enough to see the railing as his head was slammed into it. He screamed, and the masked man didn't blame him. His head was slammed into the railing multiple times. until his forehead was nothing but a canyon. The masked man stood looking out into the Chicago cityscape, the dead man heaped on the balcony in a pool of blood and brain matter.

The noise had caused the woman to come out of the bathroom. When she saw the man and the heap that was the dead rapist, luckily concealed by shadow she dropped the candle holder. "Who- who are you?" she asked. The man didn't turn. "You may call me Gerric."

[i]The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed[/i]
[url=http://lfgcomic.com/page/1]Interrogations are hard...[/url]

Re: RPG: Biohazard

Name: Thomas Holston

Age: 28

Occupation:  Mercenary (Currently employed under the CCP)

Appearance: http://i176.photobucket.com/albums/w188/mp5srt/swat.jpg
Based off of the dude on the bottom.  He has blonde hair and blue eyes and is about 6’2”. 

Weapon: http://vincentarnold.com/blog/wp-content/images/30.jpg
M41A Pulse Rifle.  Has 3 fire modes.  Single fire and burst fire.  As you can see there is a grenade launcher on rifle.  Carries a K-Bar type knife.

History: When Tom was a kid he always dreamed of joining the CCP mercenary corps.  But Tom always had a problem with authorities.  Formed a friendship with Matt Bor during training as they were always competing against each other to be top of the class.  They graduated at the top in basically a dead tie.  CCP lent them out for a few minor contracts but they have once again been called in by the CCP to escort some top secret something or other into one of the local CCP lab.

Personality:  Like I said earlier, he has problems taking orders.  Very hard on himself and is constantly pushing himself to do better.  Usually when bored he jokes. But when faced with situations is completely focused and rarely talks.

[i]Like I told your captain, the orphange attacked me.  It was self-defense.[/i]  -Richard the Warlock  [url]http://archive.lfgcomic.com/lfg0002.gif[/url]

4 (edited by Lord Revan Wednesday, March 4, 2009 8:40 pm)

Re: RPG: Biohazard

Name: Matt Bor

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Occupation: CCP Inc. Mercenary

Appearance:  6', bleached long white hair, brown eyes, gunslinger style moustache.

(Bottom guy, just like Sev's)


Misriah Armory M6-G Pistol (12.7x40mm SAPHE)

WST Manufacturing M90 CAWS (0000 Buck 8 Gauge Magnum)

History: Matt was originally from a small town in North Carolina, but moved to Illinois when his father stepped up and took over his uncle's custom rifle manufacturing company. After he finished school, Matt attended many private security (Military Grade) training courses and classes, where he met his best friend, Thomas Holston. He is now employed alongside Tom in the CCP Mercenary Corps.

Personality: Mostly irritable, sometimes the smallest things set him off. He then tries to make better of the situation (whether his fault of not) with sarcasm/jokes. Matt isn't afraid to voice his opinion.

"This IS my signature."

5 (edited by Fett_II Friday, February 13, 2009 9:06 pm)

Re: RPG: Biohazard

It was raining, as usual, and Leo was starving. This time of year there wasn't too much sunlight, and the local Chinese restaurant was crowded more than any other time of the year. Finally, it was his turn in line.

"You! What you want! Make it snappy, I have hungry people to feed!"

"Noodles. Nothing else."

"Good customer! He make quick order! He know how to succeed! Unlike you, fat boy!" (The cashier goes on and strikes one of the employees for being slow, while giving Leo's order to the cooks.)

Walking into the rain, waiting for a cab with a hot cup of noodles, Leo's phone rang.


"Hartigan? Good. Listen, we've got a 118 down on Maynard Street, at Gila Towers. Tracked your GPS, saw you were the only unit nearby. Check it out. Real mess of a case, so I'm told."

"Will do, chief. Hartigan out."

Hailing a cab, Hartigan finished his noodles and set off. About halfway to the hotel, Leo took out his phone again, this time dialing a number he hadn't called in three years.

"Cain? It's Leo. I've got something you might find interesting."


Name: Leo Hartigan
Age: 36
Occupation: Chicago City Police Officer, Inspector of Homicide Division
Appearance: Leo
Weapon: Ryas XP 556 High-Power Pistol
History: Born and raised in the Windy City, Leo knows the streets well, and thought it would be in his best interests to defend it from crime and poverty. He has worked with Cain in several cases before (this okay Val?), although he has rarely seen the retired detective since his dismissal.

6 (edited by Lord Revan Saturday, February 14, 2009 9:50 am)

Re: RPG: Biohazard

Matt Bor was sprawled out on the comfy leather sofa in center of the main room, cleaning the interworkings of his M6 sidearm. Tom and Griggs were running through a level of an old Sci-Fi Hologame. He glanced up, noting the two were yelling triumphantly over completing a level on 'Legendary Difficulty'.

"Yeah yeah, what was your completion time?" Matt sighed, his record time of just under 17 minutes had yet to be broken.

"Wait for it, wait for it..." The two clutched their rifles anxiously. "...NOOOO!!! BY THREE SECONDS!!!"

Matt laughed as the two dropped to the floor in disappointment. "Slackers!"

"You know Matt, if you're not careful you'll clean the finish off that handgun of yours." Tom walked over to the couch, kicking Matt's leg down off the cushion so he could sit down. "Move over." Griggs sat beside him, flipping the channel to an exotic vehicle show. "Next paycheck, that's mine."

"Yeah alright, change the subject..." Matt re-focused his attention on the partly dismantled gun in his lap.
"That automobile company has been around for 500 years, Tom. Just think, all you're paying for is inflation."

"Yeah well...I can dream can't I?"

"I suppose you have the right to." Matt reattached the slide to the frame of his M6, holstering it for the time being. He walked around the sparsely decorated great room of the apartment, deciding he needed a cup of coffee. Rain always did that, he didn't know why. He peered out the large window that made up the wall of the main living room and kitchen, observing as the wall of rain swept upon the glass. Life as a Merc wasn't so bad, despite working for an increasingly treacherous and corrupt company. It had it's perks, though. Something he wasn't ready to give up just yet.

2 hours later

The 3 man squad of Mercs were suited and ready for deployment. They had been given a special assignment, yet knew nothing about it, all they could do was guess.

"Ey Griggs, what do you think they'll have us do this time? Damn tedious work they say...have to bring in the best...I'm sure they tell that to everyone."

"Yeah, but Matt, we are the best." Tom said in his 'as-a-matter-of-fact' tone.

"No **** dirtbag, I didn't know that..." Matt tossed Tom a belt of grenades. "...you think this will be big? I mean, really worth our time? I'm sick of those stupid druggies walking up asking for a handout."

"I heard FG squad got the same briefing time as us..."

"Aww Griggs...those guys? Stuck up jerks if you ask me..." Matt loaded the mag into his M6, locking the slide closed with a very satisfying *SHHHCLLKK* "...might as well be the 'Fat Guys' squad if you ask me."
Griggs and Tom chuckled, shoving Mags into vest pouches.

"Let me know when we get the call..." Matt walked out of the kitchen and sat in one of those 'ergonomic' plastic chairs out on the balcony, clutching a large thermos of coffee. They weren't very comfortable in his opinion, but they came with the apartment. Besides, in all his gear, it didn't matter anyway, no need in breaking a good habit. He did this every night, drinking a large cup of coffee. It was almost a sense of longing for something else that drove him. Matt watched in silence as the rain danced on the buildings laden with lights and advertisements. It was a testament to how corrupt the city really was, how controlled people's lives were.

Not him.

...I make my own future...

"This IS my signature."

7 (edited by Valthonin Saturday, February 14, 2009 4:37 pm)

Re: RPG: Biohazard

Downing the glass of Tsing Tao, Cain topped the bottle and took it to his liquer cabinet and put it away. He should head home now, Becky had already left and Giff had gone a while ago. He went to the sink in the corner of his office and splashed some water in his face. Tired...

beep beep BEEP

"Ughhh..." Cain wiped the water from his face and took his phone out of his pocket. He put it to his ear without bothering to look at who it was.

"Hello." Cain greated half heartedly

"Cain? It's Leo. I've got something you might find interesting." Called the familiar voice.

"You've got the wrong number."

"Mhm, we've got a 118 on Maynard Street at Gila Towers, an apartment complex. It just doesnt look right apparently. I'd appreciate it if you came down here and spared some of your experience before you croaked."

"I'm tired, i'm going home." Cain said popping a DM12 pill into his mouth.

"Sure. K i'll see you there in about 15." Leo hung up.

Cain was tired...but Leo was somewhat insistant. Well, Cain appreciated an interesting case when he could get them. He grabbed his trench coat from the rack behind his door and his blaster from his desk, clipping it into his holster.


Cain pulled up to Gila Towers in his spinner, a token from his days as a Blade Runner and then detective. http://www.rot13.org/~dpavlin/bladerunn … oncept.JPG   It still flew, however after his dismissal from the force he is unauthorized to fly.

He got out of the Spinner, closed the door and was making his way to the lobby doors when something passed his face and hit the floor at his feet. He looked down; a large drop of blood. He looked up; blood was dripping down the side of one of the balconies and had made its way to some other balconies below. Several large drops had made it down to the ground level now.


The lobby for Gila Towers was standard. The doorman stood being interviewed by Leo, Cain made his way to him.

Two street cops taking notes from some other residents in the lobby noticed Cain enter, and one was making his way to Cain. Cain recognized him, an idiot. And the officer surely recognized him. Cain's dismissal from the force through the Mayor's power was well known through the different divisions.

"What are you doing here Cain? Nothing for you here." The officer said, unknown symbols flickering through his visor's HUD.

"I'm walking. What are you doing here?"

"I'm arresting you. Thats I'm doing..."

Just then Leo comes from behind the officer and puts his hand on his shoulder. The officer looks to Leo with a face of resignation and walks off giving a skeptical look to Cain. Cain and Leo then began to make their way to the turbo lifts. Their conversation continued through the ride and till they reached the 78th floor.

"Doormans over there. I already talked to him and got a description of a weird perp who walked in here right before the murder. Tall, orangelit goggles, hat, trenchcoat and