X-COM 2 - 2019 Campaign Thread

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Vanya Mia
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Re: X-COM 2 - 2019 Campaign Thread

Post by Vanya Mia » Sat Mar 09, 2019 10:59 am

Not really wedded to anything right now but have an assault specialist in mind who could pick up demolitions, or will cheerfully go for a medic character if no one else does.

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Mirgalen
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Re: X-COM 2 - 2019 Campaign Thread

Post by Mirgalen » Wed Mar 13, 2019 8:18 am

Character Concept: Chinese/Korean/Japanese guy who lost his memory (which I know is a bit cliche). He will be called John Doe (his real name may be something like Gai Ng which is a Cantonese name). He will be pretty much the same char I had in "Area 51" or "Terror from the Deep", a Tough guy with a machine gun, grenade/rocket launcher or something. A basic "shoot first talk later" kind of guy. I may be able to flesh him out by looking for clues related to his identity or past.

// Remember that I may miss the 1st session as may not be able to get home on time.

// Forgot how we get the D20 portrait. When I made my dummy char I could only see the regular DnD type portraits.

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Vanya Mia
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Re: X-COM 2 - 2019 Campaign Thread

Post by Vanya Mia » Wed Mar 13, 2019 5:35 pm

((It's the same as you get extra portraits for NWN, drop the portrait in your own portraits folder. The ones in the D20 hak should load for you to choose them but I didn't check it out.))

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Vanya Mia
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Re: X-COM 2 - 2019 Campaign Thread

Post by Vanya Mia » Fri Mar 15, 2019 1:25 pm

"Not the prolene you idiot! Do you want him to have them forever?" Waste not want not, Bo set the suture down carefully so it could still be used. "Get your head out of your arse and give me the dexon like I asked!"

Bohlale Effiong, Bo to the few she counted as friends, snapped out the instruction without looking up from the open gut of the patient on the table before her, simply holding out her hand in anticipation of the nurse obeying her command. Well, she said nurse but that was a poor classification these days. There were not as many qualified staff around as there had been before the troubles, and fewer still prepared to take the risk.

The clinic was unregistered. She'd started to run it because there were people in the district dying for the want of simple care. People who couldn't afford the cost of authorised care and the homeless, of which there had always been far too many but whose numbers were increasing steadily. So she had taken bits here and there from the hospital as opportunity arose, or found others who were prepared to supply what was needed out of their own sense of charity, and started the clinic. Treating everyday medical conditions and injuries, supporting childbirth, and gradually even performing minor surgical procedures.

At least that was how it had started, providing care for those who fell through the cracks. But as word spread through the local community others had begun to arrive. Few in number but with significantly different types of injury. She'd done her time in ER and knew what caused such injuries and wounds, but these people were not those who normally presented with them. Often because of their combined age, race and gender demographic, but even if they were the norm in those terms by nature of their attitude they simply didn't "fit". Regardless, they needed her help and Bo heard enough rumours working where she was. Ask no questions, tell me no lies.

It had worked, until now.

"What are you waiting for? Or is the extraction proving complicated?" Her hand still empty Bo looked up into the frightened face of the nurse, who was backing away while mouthing silent words and staring across the patient at a point over her shoulder. Slowly Bo turned to look behind her. The privacy screen had been moved aside and two figures stood watching. She recognised those uniforms.

There wasn't even time to close the patient.


((Going to be a medic. Think Doctor McCoy but possibly with even less of a beside manner. Though isn't that House? :D

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Karvon
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Re: X-COM 2 - 2019 Campaign Thread

Post by Karvon » Fri Mar 15, 2019 2:30 pm

Stanley had been a young engineer when the aliens took over. Cast out of work, like many others, he became a bit of a drifter. Wandering from place to place, doing odd jobs as a handyman, he managed to survive after a fashion. The hard life has left him looking older than his years, prematurely gray and balding. He enjoys tinkering with machines and sometimes seems a bit oblivious to others when so involved. Over the years he's done work for the resistance from time-to-time but never actually joined a cell. He begins the story as tech support guy for the local resistance.

//he's a jack of all trades as far as engineering/craft skills go plus demolition and traps specialist. Starting out Smart and going Techie. Contemplating some other options.

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Lazybones
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Re: X-COM 2 - 2019 Campaign Thread

Post by Lazybones » Fri Mar 15, 2019 3:55 pm

Session 1

+100xp for Bo, Ibrahim, Henderson, Jess, Garibaldi, and Stanley for starting biography posts.

For this starting session, if anyone wants to add a brief biography I'll waive the posting deadline and award XP. If you want to wait for the game to do introductions that's fine too. Everyone but Karvon will start out in ADVENT custody as the game begins.

Klasa
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Re: X-COM 2 - 2019 Campaign Thread

Post by Klasa » Fri Mar 15, 2019 6:48 pm

Just to point out, but I did kinda post one awhile ago? Might be 1 or 2 pages back now.

Edit: Or much further back. It’s on page 2.

Shadani
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Re: X-COM 2 - 2019 Campaign Thread

Post by Shadani » Fri Mar 15, 2019 7:39 pm

Writing on the wall. The shorthand made sense only to her, and even then only when she was in the right head-space, but it helped her put things in the right order. Left to right. Top to bottom. Backwards and forwards, then reverse. She cackled to herself, and resisted the urge to bang her head against the walls of her cell.

She was *used* to small spaces. They’d been her whole, miserable life. Bunkers in the desert; hidey-holes carved into canyon walls. Ruined buildings, too; places so fucked by the war and the passage of time you were lucky to find a room with more than just the one wall still standing. They only went out at night, scurrying from one place to the next. That’d been her whole world; her whole everything.

So why’d the cell *break* her?

Wasn’t even sure how long it’d been, now. She’d tried to keep track at first, of course, but there was no point. Sleep for hour or a day; how the hell was she supposed to tell the difference? Pretty sure the gruel they fed her was drugged, too, but she didn’t have much choice. She was already skin over bones.

Pickings out in the wasteland were thin. Had been for years. Mom and Lucas and Father Colville and the others; they’d always make sure she had at least *something* to eat, even when the rest of them didn’t. Made her feel guilty, but what kind of kid turns down a meal, right? “You’re still growing, Jess,” they’d say, with sad smiles on their faces. “Not a crumb wasted now, you hear?”

She wondered where they were. What happened to them. Good chance it was just her, now. She was long past being a kid; she’d proved that a dozen times over. Wasn’t fair. Why should she be the one left alone? Would have been better if she’d just -

The thought made her cry out: bang her fists against the walls of her cage. There came a bark from beyond. An inhuman voice, raised in anger. She clenched her teeth; bit her tongue.

They thought she was at their mercy. Didn’t know that she’d been watching them, as surely as they’d been watching her. Listened to their mumbling; their footsteps. Their plots and patrols. She wasn’t sure how much of the voices were actually *theirs* and which ones were just in her head, of course, but one thing was for sure: they weren’t going to keep her here forever. They had other plans.

Soon, she’d have her chance. To make a stand, if nothing else. Finally stop hiding.

Compared to the cage, dying didn’t seem so bad, anyhow.

((Smart Hero, looking at Techie but could plausibly be a good fit for whatever psionic nonsense ends up happening. Sorry it took so late to get something written up; I'd been going back and forth on some things and been busy prepping stuff for other games.))

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Ayram
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Re: X-COM 2 - 2019 Campaign Thread

Post by Ayram » Sat Mar 16, 2019 1:26 am

Ibrahim hated the aliens.

He was a young boy when the aliens came. His father had left Ibrahim and his mother to fight, and he didn't come back. Presumed KIA, they didn't even have a body to bury.

His mother was taken during the aftermath, when it was clear earth had lost- she'd been arrested. For what, Ibrahim never found out. She'd gone for food and told him to stay with the family they'd been living with for protection. He never saw her again.

He'd grown up angry and full of hatred, but learned quickly that acting on it or even letting it show meant ADVENT would come for you. So he kept his head down, and got by doing salvage work. Time went by and ADVENT became normal. Not good, but normal. A lot of people started to drink the kool-aid though, buying wholeheartedly the ADVENT propaganda.

One such idiot got Ibrahim angry enough to punch him in the mouth and let loose all he'd held back about the ADVENT butchers, and the next morning they broke down his door and drug him away kicking and screaming- at least until they got to his front steps and cracked his skull with the butt of a rifle.

So, now, he sat in a cell, waiting to die.Waiting for whatever horrible fate came to those who resisted. It was inevitable, he supposed numbly. But he was full of regret. All his life Ibrahim had wanted to fight the aliens like his father had, but in the end he'd die in a prison, never once having lifted a finger to them.

// I changed my mind at the last minute when i realized we didn't have a sneaky person. So I'll go Fast sneak guy with an eye on sniper weapons.

smartalec
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Re: X-COM 2 - 2019 Campaign Thread

Post by smartalec » Sat Mar 16, 2019 5:04 am

That blurt of alien nonsense. He knew what it meant. And he knew what answer he wanted to give.

"Garibaldi."

The same blurt. He knew they already knew the answer, the one they wanted. He wasn't going to give it to them.

"Garibaldi."

A cracking impact from behind brought him to his knees; he collapsed against the desk in front of him, the helmeted ADVENT officer standing behind it staring down in disgust. The one who'd hit him stepped back, but kept that boxy rifle to hand, ready for a second hit. He could feel the hit; right between his shoulder blades, a hard down-angle. It was going to bruise. He panted, getting his breath back, slowly standing in the cheap slacks and torn shirt he'd been taken in.

The officer at the desk waited for him to stand, staring all the while. Then, that same blurt. That same question. Name? He hesitated. One of his hands started to shake. He hated it immediately, and made a fist to hide it. He closed his eyes.

"Garibaldi."

***

The university was a sterile, tranquil place, like the rest of the town. It had been all he'd ever known as Victor Wood. Go to class. Learn the grim misery of the corrupt Old World. Develop the skills to help build the New one. Soak it all up from the vid-tablets and the info-modules at your desk. Join in the youth ADVENT training. Be a good citizen. It hadn't been enough. He'd always felt there was more, deep down. Something was missing. He'd poked about in the knowledge bases. Been a little too curious, maybe.

Piotr Kaspar had been the same. After a while, Piotr'd lent him the book. 'Don't let anyone see it,' he'd said. He'd done exactly what Piotr said; taken it, hidden it, and read it. A collection of three-page biographies of characters from history. Phaorohs and kings and generals and revolutionaries. Short, and simple, and it had painted the Old World with far more colour than anything he'd seen it in before.

That had been it, he was a convert. He'd looked for more books. Anything he could get. He, and Piotr, and some other friends. Thoughtful Oliver, big Francine, sly Jack, mousy Harriet. They'd dug through old shops, building a stack of old knowledge. Things no-one talked about. The War of Independence! The Roman Empire! Philosophy! Drama! Poetry! They'd kept in touch, gathering what they could, sharing what they found, even after they'd moved away, ended up in different cities, following the herd like everyone else even as they fancied themselves smarter than the rest. They swopped stories they heard, things happening out of the cities. Signs that not everything was peaceful in the New World.

And then Piotr was gone. Just gone.

He'd asked around. His friends, his parents, their friends. He'd sent letters, he'd even gotten a permit to visit Piotr's city at one point, as dangerous s that had been in retrospect. Nothing. No-one even talked- no-one wanted to talk about it. and he'd come home, and spent three weeks stewing, until he couldn't take it any more.

That had been the moment, the point when the future was fixed. The moment when he'd gotten so angry, he couldn't hold it in, he'd had to do something. He'd gotten them all organised. The newsletter, Garibaldi, sneaking its way out over the anon-channels. And then, the radio station. He'd taken the name for himself, when he spoke on the radio. Garibaldi. Picking up rumours, the things no-one talked about, and spreading them as far as he could. Knowledge. Resistance. Spreading the message, always the same. Think! Remember! Hope! Don't give up on the era of human achievement. How good that had made him feel! How righteous, and brave, and noble. Months they had gone on. Over a year. People had heard him. He knew that much, at least.

And then they came for him. They'd heard him, too.

***

The cell was cramped. Were they in cells like this? He didn't know if they were alright. Oliver, Francine, Jack, Harriet... he didn't know. Gone, maybe, gone like Piotr. Gone like Victor Wood. Disappeared and no-one would say a word again.

He didn't know what to expect. Death? Some sort of re-education? There was too much to be afraid of. The downside of an imagination. He didn't know what was coming now. But he'd meet it as Garibaldi.

***

((Sorry this one took longer, but here is is - Victor 'Garibaldi' Wood, former student activist turned revolutionary and underground radio broadcaster. A Charismatic hero!))

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