Invite: Open
Character Sheet: Required. Link in first post or sig.

Setting: Sort of modern day, but advanced a few years. Also includes a vast underground network which hosts weapon and martial arts classes, music concerts, political debates, and any other disallowed activities.
Fandom: Allowed.
House Rules: Some fantasy elements are allowed, but nothing too unrealistic, and, for the love of all that is good and holy, don't go Super Saiyan on our asses. And guns are <3. Loosely based from the world of V For Vendetta, and quite a fair bit from the Year Zero Alternate Reality game.
Some of the Year Zero sites:

• Exterminal: Check this if nothing else.
• Year Zero Album Site (watch the vid?)
• Be The Hammer: RPing a soldier of the government? Here's your page.
• I am Trying to Believe: Information about Parepin, the drug they put in the water.
• Another Version of the Truth.: Some other stuff.

More are listed here.
Description: Twenty years. Two decades, one score, a fiftieth of a millenia, it mattered not the name. For twenty years, civil rights and freedom were put on hold for the safety of the human race. All forms of non-white, 'unacceptable ways of life were scrutinized beyond comprehension until the 'enemies of the state' simply began to... disappear.

However, not all who disappear are lost. And thus, the underground began; a network of all forms of enemies of the state, a haven underneath the surface within which the rules no longer apply and anything is possible.

Some Randomly Made Up Terminology:

Paintballing: An as of yet unknown illegal activity.

-------------------------

((Grey's sheet is in the siggy.))

Walking. One of the hardest things to do, for her, was walking. She swiped her passkey, smiling at the desk clerk as she walked out the door, slowly walking to the car, getting in and driving off.
She waited a short time, driving on the highway, before she quickly pulled off, driving through the forest and into a hidden passage, parking her car in a lot. She quickly pulled off the extra license plate and color film, leaving the car, instead of a vibrant blue, a pale gray. She pulled off the disguise, throwing it into the incinerator. Then, she moved towards the stairs, walking to the level beneath.
All along the walls were posters, posters of missing people, of atrocities by the government, of things found too obscene for 'normal, proper life.' There was a sound stage set up, an alternative metal band performing. She stopped for a moment to listen, before moving on. She was almost late for kendo.

Domovoi nodded at her as she ran past, tweaking some of the buttons and dials next to the sound stage. The speaker was dismantled, wires squirming every which way. A humorous "Out of Order" was attached to the subwoofer.

Grey looked back over to where Domo was, glaring. "Hey, messing with the sound equipment again?" She sighed, moving over and doing what she could to put things back in place. "Don't you have anything better to do? Come to Kendo practice with me!" She turned, continuing on her way and wondering if he would follow.

"No, I'm fixing it because your buddies won't keep it down at appropriate levels. Blew the sub-woofer. I'll have time later. NO MUSIC FOR NOW, THOUGH!" Domo said as he grabbed his kendo stick.

Grey glared, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, high quality speakers just blew out. Mmm." Nonetheless, she led him to kendo practice, walking in.
A kendo stick swung down, before Fake looked over. "You're late, Grey," he said, letting his stick relax.
"I know, I know, calm it," Grey muttered, walking towards him. "Got a little hung up at the office."
He looked at her for a moment, rolling his eyes. "Oh? Good job," he said, starting to swing again. He continued taking practice swings as Grey watched.
"Yeah... Apparently, he's just the first of many. The shinobi will be busy in the coming weeks."
"Of course," responded Fake, taking one last swing. "Ehh... I don't feel like practicing anymore..." he sighed, putting his bokuto on the rack and walking out. Grey sighed.
"But I felt like... Oh... nevermind." She leaned her bokuto on her shoulder, following him.
"Dinner?" asked Fake, his stomach softly growling.

Angrite sat quietly in the cafeteria, looking around the crowded area.
"God I hate some of these idiots," he thought to himself as some fool shoved food into his mouth. He turned and stood, taking his empty plate and tossing it. After scanning the cafeteria again and turned toward the door and walked out.

Grey and Fake saw Angrite as they walked to the cafeteria, quickly waving. "Hey, Angrite!" Grey said, walking towards him. "We've got a show tonight, around 1. Make sure you aren't late."
"Great that you're saying that, Grey," Fake interjected. "Real great, seeing as you were obviously the most timely member last time."
"-.- Shutty, Fake," Grey muttered, glaring. "I actually don't feel that hungry... I'm going to go practice. When you're done eating, practice with me?"
"Sure," Fake said, walking into the cafeteria. "Later."
"Later," Grey responded, before turning to Angrite. "I'll see you at the show. Unless you want to practice or something."

Angrite nods and follows behind her. "I've been itching to practice for a while. Haven't been able to lately... no one wants to."

"Alright." She moves through the hallway, walking into her room. "Go get your guitar, I'll wait here," she said, picking up her bass and checking it over, after which, laying back on her bed. Her eyes roamed lazily to the ceiling as she waited for Angrite to bring his guitar.

((Sorry for coming in so late. I guess I'll go Leon for once. Sigged.))

The day was getting later by the second as Leon fought the common crowd to get back to the small 'room' that he had set up. Life in the underground was hard. But there was no alternative. No chance for freedom once again. It had now been the twentieth year of this insanity. --At least only the fifth for him.-- He continued to walk on as he thought this, ignoring the sensation of hunger that filled him. There were the fools that simply leeched off this place for hope that they could regain a life. There were the fools who came here expecting a better place to live. And then there were the fools who looked forward to this damned place.

As he arrived by the door of his room, his hunger grew greatly. Hadn't it only been a few hours since he last ate? No. Leon was now forgetting to feed himself. A type of torture upon his own body? Probably. With his hate for the people around him, he began to become less social. In fact, he began to stop doing most of his tasks set to him. He had no job. No friends. Not even the slightest bit of possession. All he had was his sword, his room, and himself. Starving was no longer the word to describe his state. Maybe fatigued, but that would be a godsend for Leon right now. Before he could even open the door of his room, he turned. ready to finally get some food for himself. Hopefully no one would come up to him. And hopefully, no one would continually bother him. And so, he began for the cafeteria.

Grey awaited for Angrite to return with his guitar.

---

Fake sat in the cafeteria, chomping down on a sandwich. "Peanut butter and fluff!" he said, grinning with his eyes closed in joy. "Beautiful..."
A young man, Merrick, slipped into the seat next to him, placing a small sheet of paper on his tray. "Paintballing there." Fake nodded, smiling.
"Want some?" Fake asked, holding out the sandwich, but Merrick shook his head.
"Later."
Fake nodded to this. He quickly put the paper into his pocket, standing and walking out, putting the last of the sandwich into his mouth. He wasted no time in going to the men's room, heading straight to the last stall.
He slipped his hand into the pocket, withdrawing the paper. He glanced it over, memorizing it, and then pulled out a lighter and burned it. He let the ashes fall into the toilet, quickly spraying an odor dissolvent.
He walked back out, heading to Grey's room. He knocked on the door, Grey quickly letting him in. "Hey," she said. "Practicing with us?"
"Sure," said Fake, sitting on the bed next to her. "But, I'm." He cleared his throat. "I'm going paintballing tonight. Before the show."
"Alright, but don't be late."
They both knew very well that he had no paintball guns.

((Whee. Not an assassination, but something else. And this is probably more like Year Zero than V for Vendetta, the way I think about it.))

Leon headed inside, passing the people who were leaving for other places. He continued to think on his topic against the life set around these parts. News spread fast around here, but it was mostly based on boring and small events which would occur. One that caught his eye quite quickly was the music concert going on later in the day -- night, actually. He would go. Just for a quick second. Not much longer. The man now had already grabbed some food and was now seated on one of the many tables that filled the cafeteria. But to the very side, something caught his attention. A bit more mysterious than anything that happens down here. Turning, he was met with a young man who had just handed a parchment to another person. Who was he?

Merrick walked towards the exit until he accidentally bumped into Leon. "Ahh, sorry," he quickly said.

((Look up at the first post! ^^ Added info and stuff about Year Zero. Woo.))

"Ahh, sorry"?

Leon did not expect such a person as the one before him to say a phrase like this. But he was interested in what had just happened with the note and all. Maybe something secretive would finally be revealed to him -- an assassination, a cult, etc. would all be fine enough for him. There was boredom enough here, and even this held substantial enough to fill in that time. So he wondered. "Yes. Sorry." was all that he replied, although Leon had not planned to let go of the person just yet.

Merrick moved past him, walking out towards the hallway.

Leon was inclined to follow. So he also turned and continued on, pretending to blend in with the crowd which was also leaving the cafeteria back to their rooms or to other places. It was a big society down here, in fact, and one could easily get lost without knowing it. As he continued on, taking turns when necessary, he noticed that more and more people were coming down these days. Did something happen above? News did not spread such information. But before he could tell, Leon had lost track of the man from before. "Damn. Just when I could of found something more interesting to do..." The crowd around him slowly gathered up, and the torrent of movement drifted him from place to place, randomly and meaninglessly. Maybe something else would pop up if he continued with the crowd. It was endless, he thought. The moving of the people. There looked as if no end to the traveling around him -- people going one way, and then another, but always on a never ending loop.

Without Leon noticing, a man rushed by him. The speed caused Leon to lose balance and fall backwards. Unluckily, there was a room behind him, and he fell right into the door. It was unlocked. He could of gotten right back up before falling in, but he wondered where it would take him. As soon as the door broke backwards from the pressure of his fall, he noticed a girl within the room holding an instrument. "Odd." He thought, right as he landed on the ground directly before the bed. At least he wasn't knocked out...

((Yesh. I like to make odd coincidences happen. And it is Grey in there.))

Grey and Fake looked down at Drake, blinking. "Who the..." Fake muttered, standing. "Our door!" he yelled, glaring. "... Who are you?" However, he didn't wait for the answer, turning to Grey. "We're going to have to practice in Angrite's room.
"Yeah, we are..." She stood, picking up her guitar and sighing. Fake offered the new person a hand up, and after he did this, they filed out, Fake pulling the door into place as well as he could. Grey and Fake quickly walked over to Angrite's room, knocking on the door.
"Angrite?" Grey said. "Are you in there?"

"What?" Angrite walked to the door and opened it. "Oh, come on. I didn't think it had been THAT long." He plucked a few chords on his guitar as he smirked at them.

Grey rolled her eyes, walking in. Fake immediately followed after her, moving to close the door. "Our door got messed up, so we'll practice in here..."

Leon accepted the hand and pulled himself up. Calmly, he walked out of the room and waited as the man pulled the door back into place. Although unexpected, Leon followed the two to another room, where they had yelled for a one "Angrite". Deciding to stay with them, he walked in and waited for an opportunity to speak. Of course, it wasn't every day that people would enter others' rooms without permission. But he still chose to do so, just to fill in such a time of boredom. Hopefully they wouldn't mind.

(( -.- We can't wait forever, Ang! ))

Grey turned back towards the door, blinking. "And you are?" she said, tone questioning but sharp. Was this one of Angrite's friends, or merely some random, walking in without permission or care?

Leon looked around, as if regretful of the choice he had just made. There was no excitement in meddling with others' affairs, so why did his own brother get such joy from it? He liked the tone of the woman who had just asked the question, yet simply answered:

"Bored."

Suddenly, the door to Angrite's room burst open, and an avalanche of cardboard boxes fell into the room. A pair of long arms shot up from the mound of boxes and Claude rose up, quickly trying to herd the boxes into the hallway. "I'm so sorry about that," he said looking down at the floor. He got the room cleaned, and layed his eyes on the door. "Oh God, did I break your door? Damnit!" Claude tried his best to prop the door back in place, but it kept slumping to the side. As everyone present stared on, another figure appeared in the doorway. "Claude, did you trip again?" Ginger said exasperatedly. "Sorry about this, we're just moving to new rooms." She explained hurriedly and dragged Claude out of the room "Sorry again..." he muttered.

((Soooo sorry. Been in a bleh mood lately))

Angrite tossed his guitar on his bed and ran out the door. "What the hell?! FIX THIS!" He looked at the other that had simply walked in. "Never knew someone to be bold enough to walk in my room. Especially someone I don't know."

"Bold? No, sorry. Just bored."

Leon stared at Angrite as he recovered for the suddenness of the falling boxes. It was quite a messy scene at first, but now things started to get interesting. Breaking the stare, he turned to the girl further into the room and asked, "So what's going on?"

"Oh, well, we're knew to this area, and we're just settling in," Ginger replied "Although I thought some of the inhabitants here might be polite." She motioned towards Angrite. Claude got up and quickly put his hand over Ginger's mouth, shutting her up. "I'm really sorry, man, I'll get on that." Claude rummaged in a box, pulled out a power screwdriver, and proceeded to repair the door. Ginger huffed a bit and Claude said "You'll have to excuse Ginger, she can be immature at times."

"Yeah, hurry it up. Don't want more people waltzing in here." He jerks his head in Leon's direction. "And don't start thinking that way, girl. I'm not kind, and I'm not polite." He turns away and sits back on his bed, playing a bit of 'Killing in the name of'.

"Hmph!" Ginger huffed out of the room. Claude finished up the hinge and hurried out of the room, apologizing over and over again. "Ginger, can't you tone it down a bit? We've only been here a day and you're already pissing people off!" "It's not my fault if people have to act rude and disrespectful!" Ginger defended while picking up some of the cardboard containers. "Yeah, well, we'll be lucky if we don't get injured next time we run into them." "Good thing you're so lucky, Claude!" Ginger said sweetly. "Yeah, yeah..." Claude said dejectively.

Grey blinked, looking around. "What just happened?" she thought, confused as she sat down and started playing along with Angrite.
"That was... interesting," Fake said, before turning to Leon. "Do you know them...?"

Leon ignored the conversation between the two that had barged in and the actual owner of the room, while he also did not answer the question given to him. That was odd, and he in fact was taken aback by what had just happened, but such belief did not show on the surface. Instead, he closed his eyes and leaned back against a wall -- such like his brother would do -- and almost shone a smile, from the comedy of the situation. Yet, he still wasn't clear of what was going on. One: The two that had just barged in were a random of others (whom maybe he had met once before). Two: The others were friends of one another, and were here to practice with music. This part was interesting, although there was such a missing article in this conclusion of his. Why was he himself here?

Fake blinked, waving his hand in front of Leon's face. "Hello..." he said, glaring a little as he tried to get Leon's attention.
"Come on, Fake!" Grey said, motioning for him to go to the mic. He sighed, walking to it.
"Where's Yuuki?" he said, looking around.
"I dunno, call him," Grey responded. Fake nodded, pulling out his cell phone and dialing Yuuki's number. When he reached Yuuki's voicemail, he closed the phone, sighing.
"Didn't answer." Fake moved to the mic, singing the lyrics for barely a few moments; his watch's alarm interrupted him. "Oh... shit, time to go," he said, Grey nodding.
"Don't be late, okay?"
"I won't..." he muttered as he walked out, closing the door behind him.

---

Fake darted through the hallway, looking around for the right room. "407..." he thought, looking at the room numbers--there. He walked in, a small crowd already grouped together.
"Thank you all for coming," a young man said, standing up on the stage. It was Merrick. "Now, as to the business of last week's tagging: A new guy was caught, but most everyone got back safe."
"Who was the new guy?"
"Don't know, we're trying to find information on him," Merrick responded. "Now... we've recently acquired a source on the inside who says he has access to jerk." A few people hushed others; eyes and ears perked up towards the stage as the room went silent. "The scientific team wrote a statement..." he pulled out the paper and cleared his throat. "Uh... We understand the dangers of red pills, and will restrict access to only necessary members. We know it hits close to home for a few of you, specifically. And if it's even the slightest bit possible, we're going to find someway to reverse the process."
Merrick looked over the paper again, the entire room silent in personal contemplation for a few moments.
"Okay..." he said, finally. "Just one more thing... if you remember, there were rumors of a Cedocore plant nearby. We're done searching, and we found it. It's actually close by. I'm thinking... Sunday? We get in, we photograph, we get... something that we can show to the public. For the mass disclosure coming up."
"Merrick," Fake started. "About the mass disclosure, do you have anymore details?"
"Not just yet, but..." he started to recant the information, a light flashing outside. A few people looked outside, but Merrick and Fake, along with most others, continued the discussion.
Suddenly, doors all around broke down, and immediately, shots fired, people scattering, Merrick pulled away by friends, Fake stumbling around amid the confusion, seeing others jumping into vans outside-
He was brought swiftly to the ground, momentarily getting the impression that his skull had cracked from the force. His arms were wrenched behind his back, handcuffs locking tightly around his wrists as fists beat against his immobile form. He struggled against his assailant; they were all in black, with helmets and fists and guns, oh god, guns, high powered rifles fucking take your head off at this range guns. He was dragged to his feet, rough hands pulling him into a black, unmarked van, throwing him to the floor and closing the door behind them, leaving him in pitch black silence.

---

Grey waited in the back room with the others, pacing nervously. "He should've been here half an hour ago..." She started speaking louder, almost hysterically. "He's late, but never this late... Fuck, something happened to him... Something happened to him... Fuck..."

Leon ignored the waving of his hand; he definitely was zoned out at the time. But would it have it that he came back to his senses, only to find that the person once before him had left the room. It was getting late. Turning his head towards the girl, who's room he had fallen into once before, the question of why he was here popped into his mind again. Yet so, he continued to lean upon the wall, only to wait until later, when she began to speak. There was nervousness within her voice -- he could feel it. Was something wrong? And why was she such in a hurry for him to come back? Maybe this was that band which was to perform later that night (quite soon, actually). But there was nothing to state at this point, so he continued on, just standing there.

"Damnit..." Grey said, turning to the others. "He's not answering his cell or anything... I'm going to go looking for him. You can follow if you want. Call if he comes back."
She turned, walking out the door and into the alleyway. "... I've got no idea where he'd be..."