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-Blood Company-


Aekea, city of machines and inhabited by those that work on them. Within the city limits there is law, general order and a sense of the common good shared by many of the different species and races that inhabit it. Around and Below this Technological city however; exist a band - specifically many bands of men, women and even some children from every different race and call of life, honest, good and hardworking people on the exterior, and the most depraved and outrageous of people within.


Twenty kilometers north of the city limits is the operating grounds for these people and the ruthless, carnal instincts they indulge in, most commonly known to the Gaian Populace as The Black Market the buying, trading, selling of everything from forbidden magics and technology to the very existence of lives. Far from being just a market though, These grounds are hollowed by the blood of those that have died upon it in the name of God, Justice and Psychotic Rage. The Place has no formal calling, referred to many outside its walls as simply "Hell" those that dwell and participate within its walls have no need to call it by any one name, it is simply a paradise for the fallen and a sanctuary for the depraved. The visible symbol of this place of malcontent is little more than a house, a ramshackle structure of rotting wood and ancient furniture. No electricity, no gas or water, only four standing walls nestled comfortably in the middle of a short, Two-Post segmented wooden fence.

The reality though of this paradise for sinners is hidden, far below ground and the judgmental ways of society the surface world entails. A secondary base, located several hundred feet below the surface of Gaia connects to the simple shack atop an ancient and ill-maintained elevator shaft that is miraculously still in running condition. The elevator shaft is Four feet cubed and as covered with rust, dust and debris as the elevator itself, the capsule that traverses between the surface world and the underworld is old and rustic with no charm or appeal at all. The floor is riveted steel, and is the newest portion of the elevator. A trap door is to one side of the elevator's center and many a body line the bottom of the shaft as evidence to those found in ill-favor during the long vertical ride. At the base level though, the elevator opens up to a comfortably worn structure, several hundred feet below ground its lit by orderly gas bulbs, the floor is made of similarly rusted, riveted steel and conditionally furnished with torn couches, broken chairs and sturdy, albeit worn tables and mattresses, a bar is settled against one corner of this large one-room structure, and several Television sets and radios are littered around on the floor or set on tables, mostly static comes through at this level, but occasionally important announcements or notifications make their way through the airwaves, card and board games are the most common theme among newcomers and "holier" of visitors, though among veterens and frequent visitors, women, booze, gambling and dares are the preferred means of "fun" in this large, structured room.

Facing the door of the elevator as one exits it is against the far wall a pair of heavy-set, iron doors, beset on their inner sides with two immense 90 degree angle bars that allow these doors to be sealed and "locked" from the inside, beyond the structured room. Beyond these doors is a hallway, a hallway that despite it being a straight shot, does not seem to have an end. Upon entering it, one is greeted with the smell of rotting corpses, of blood and feces and looking to one's right or left a corpse - relatively fresh is still moving, hooked through the neck and bound to the wall they squirm and writhe in pain and as one begins to realize they are in-fact not dead, they are similarly not dying, truly immortal they are yet bound in such a state to ultimately suffer their physical selves to no end for all of time. A clear and undeniable message is carved into their bleeding bodies again and again - "Death is no safeguard here." Is written in a multitude of languages in and around these two captives of eternal suffering. The hallway continues, eight feet high and three across, the cramped space is 'home' evidently to the lower callings in life: Whores, Thieves, Gangs and Slavers idle this small space, picking off the weak, each for their own ends. The smell of general filth is everywhere and the hallway continues, cramped with these different lowlifes for several hundred feet before the populace dies down and living people are replaced with corpses, then skeletons and eventually bits of dust and blood splattered against the wall, showing three different stages of decomposition in progression. Eventually, no sign of life is found beyond a certain point and the hallway seems to last for an eternity. After what seems like an endless struggle of foot after foot, one (should they have a guide, or have previously visited) pushes themselves to the furthest extreme of themselves before stopping to camp. Sleeping in the tunnel is dangerous and reckless, as every so often vehicles like motorcycles and small cars will fill the space of the tunnel, clearing it of most of its living occupants and adding them to the dead.

When next one wakes, they must resume their march and after again what seems like an eternity of motion, one finally comes to a door, completely unlike the first, the hallway ends facing a slab of metal inscribed with a crude 666 upon its central surface. To one side is a 10key, no clues or hints or password is written, just a 10key with no other significance, the numbers upon it though, despite the wear of time are still clearly visible. The pass code is hackable to those that are especially skilled or equipped to do so, but can be bought by the common man for roughly 10k in gold at the bar, back in the structured room at the bottom of the elevator. Through this virtually impenetrable wall exists the true center of the Gaian Underworld, Syndicates and Gangs from all over the world commune to this one place for business, bets and combat, yet here and here alone exist one of the most powerful underground societies that rule this Gaian Underworld::

Blood Company
-Blood Company-
Rules and Notifications

The following are non-negotiable and failure to meet and obey them will result in the banning of you as a user from this thread and the quick annihilation of any and all characters you may have involved in it. These rules are subject to, but unlikely to change.

Rule One: Adherence to the Gaian Terms of Service Agreement signed upon registration with Gaia Online.
Rule Two: Arguments and "Battles" Out-of-Character should be conducted over the Private Messaging System. Arguments of this nature must be settled before further Role Playing can continue unless the parties involved deem otherwise, in the case of group arguments, each side must pick a representative for their "side" and then each side must send me an argument in the Private Messaging system. The choice of representative can be selected in the thread, but should be done so with as little arguing as possible. If a representative cannot be chosen, the point is mute and no further Role Playing can be performed until I can review the situation and decide on a case-by-case situation.

((To simplify this, it's easiest to simply work out your own problems, and avoid arguing OOC as much as possible since we're here to Role Play, not argue, thanks.))

Rule Three: There is no Rule Three
Rule Four: In true F.F.A tradition this forum is open to any and all attacks, at any point in time, it and everything involved/written is completely destroyable.
Rule Five: The killing and death of a another user's character is allowed without consent, but in the act of good courtesy among everyone else as a player, killing shouldn't be a regular habit, if it is necessary, then both parties should consent, even if it isn't necessary. Elaboration of this rule is provided upon request.
Rule Six: NO GODMODING (FFA Players - You know this, BT players and newbies, if you need an explanation, one is available upon request.)

Notification One: Blood Company's Head Quarters is located directly beneath the city of Aekea, it can be destroyed, but must be done so in a way to preserve the integrity of Gaia Online's Aekea so as not to disrupt or effect the original Gaia Storyline.
Notification Two: Blades and Bullets rank on equal ground in a Role Playing Fight, this Role Play is part fantasy, so the blocking/dodging of bullets is entirely possible. A "Level" system CAN BE IMPLEMENTED by members, but doesn't necessarily have to be used at any point. Further elaboration on this notification will be provided upon request.
Notification Three: For all points and purposes, the main Base of Operations for this entire Role Play is beyond the 10key pass code "door" its contents are free-world, if a member wishes it to be there, they have only to describe it. Members can officially add buildings and outposts, if they are part of other organizations *coughSteelSyndicatecough* or likewise, they can create an outpost or gathering ground for their own business/organization needs. As such, a formal written description of the HQ will not be provided (subject to change), a general theme of rustic, impromptu job of structuring should be uphead though.
Notification Four: Non-Members may post as freely as Members, but are limited to temporary construction of In Character places, and in a conflict, written "powers/weapons" will be given authority over non-written "powers/weapons"

Layman's terms::

Follow the ToS
Play (Generally) Nice.
Have Fun
Don't be Assholes (unless it fits the situation.)
Don't Play God.

Don't Destroy Aekea
Think FFVII (Cause it was classic)
Main Playing area is free game to on-the-spot creation. (Freeworld)
Members with written profiles get priority over non-written profiles.
-Blood Company-

Alignment: Ordered Antagonistic
Aim: To Centralize and Organize the Free-For-All/Organizations-At-War Players and Established "Groups"
Secondary Aim: To teach Barton Town Players the value of "life and death" situations, and the true revelry of fighting.


Profile Skeletons

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[b]Wardrobe -[/b]

Profiles Should be Privately Messaged to Jiro Kenshin and will be kept on Hidden File.
Some might have recognized him, a man that had grown from boyhood to manhood and seemingly back again, as he sat upon a metal folding chair, rust eating away at the front corner of it as one passed through the heavy cylindrical door to the safe haven of the depraved and outcast. A man once, now a young man in his middle to late teens, Jiro Kenshin's blond hair, blue eyes and dirty appearance weren't unique to himself, but the automaton arm that connected his nerves to the electronic signals that moved the lost limb was unmistakable, a double "I" was burned into the "shoulder" of the metal, a play off of the Roman numeral 2, which signified Jiro's name as "Second Born".

As usual, the blue-eyed teenager was fiddling with something or other, a small cube-like contraption that seemed riveted and aged, wires poked out of its flat and rugged sides as his bare and metal fingers worked it over in its hands, it seemed to hold only a portion of his attention as he sat behind the door as the "Greeter" to an otherwise unfriendly society, Jiro was rumored to be the architect and founder of the massive underground city, but any inquiries into it would either be ignored or outright denied. Dressed in a loose, grease and dust covered off-white shirt and baggy, brown/black slacks made of canvas were held at the waist with a sturdy leather belt, a pair of suspenders dangled over this, before the legs tucked into a pair of shin-length, black military-style boots, he wasn't any worse for the wear, physically fit and scarless yet despite the many years he'd been fighting, Jiro would occasionally look upwards to check on the door, not that it wouldn't make an immense noise opening, but more for the sake of attending to his self-proclaimed job as doorman. His hair was shorter than most would remember it being, and his blue eyes held something different, they were energetic and electric as usual, but they seemed to pulsate with an inner light rather than simply reflecting the yellow light created by the gas bulbs around him.

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