Rollenspiel Von Dem Gestapo!


greenglacier
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A cheerful "Ding!" signaled the end of the ride to Alex. The metal slowly drove out of the way. What little light came from the "exit" sign barely illuminated the room at all. Swiftly, Alex ran forth, grabbed some chair from within the darkness and placed it against the door, directly underneath the handle.

Suddenly, she felt as if something were* behind her and intuitively rolled to the side, whereby her action came closer to "hitting the dirt" than "rolling". Looking back, Alex could confirm her instincts. A Shadow had launched at her, almost plunging a knife into her kidneys. It had knocked over the chair instead, but was ready for its next move. Alex wasn't. She barely managed to roll to the side, almost feeling the cold and rugged skin of the attacker, almost feeling rage and hatred, pain and agony, all at the same time.

Quickly slipping her hand into her pocket, she took advantage of the moment. For a split second, Alex felt as if her mind wasn't her own and nearly grabbed the knife instead of a capsule home-made capsaicin. With regained self-control, she ejected the substance at the monster. It was distracted for a moment, but continued charging shortly after. The chemical seemed to cause an intense ache, yet the Shadow managed to ignore it.

At this point, the door flew open as the Gestapo officer burst in. The scene confused him for just a wink, then he selected the Shadow as the more important target. Alex happily handed this problem to the authority and easily escaped their attention. Neither noticed her leaving.

Back in the lobby, a few people chattered in a group. When they saw her, they shut up and waited for her saviour to return as well. And they waited, expectation and relief equally occupying their visage. Only the receptionist seemed increasingly worried. Alex left the building without any more trouble.

*sorry, all ye grammar fanatics

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Too late for me to join? If not...

Race (Human, Cloaked One, Shadow): Human

Name: Roman 

Goals: - Marrying his girlfriend, Josephine (Or Jo), one-upping his bas**rd co-worker; (killing if it gets to that), getting promoted to colonel.

Personality: Roman is naturally outgoing, with a charming and flirtatious personality to match, however his personality is somewhat overbearing, to the point where he can physically annoy people if his personality is even slightly incompatible. To those he doesn't like, he's brutal, manipulative, and backstabbing, to those he likes, kind, jokey and very, very flirty, which is helped by the fact that he's bi. As a Gestapo officer, he regularly makes contact with shadows and cloaked ones, and has his own gun, a modified Luger semi-automatic.

Appearance: About 6 foot, slim, but not skinny, with a handsome face. His hair tumbles down to just above his shoulders, in wavy locks that wouldn't seem strange in a ponytail. His hair is two-toned, with a lighter gray being the predominant color, before darkening into almost pitch-black at the ends. He often appears to be laid back, whilst actually being quite the opposite. He obsessively cracks his knuckles, finger by finger when he's bored, depressed, in deep thoughts, or pretty much at any time at all. 

Other things (Not necessary): Works to identify hidden Cloaked people as a blend between a secret policeman and a psychiatrist, is very, very good at what he does. He's addicted to caffeine, and is a social drinker, although some say he was prone to binge-drinking when a teen. He's currently in his mid-twenties, and he and his girlfriend are trying for a child.

Edit: Did I just accidentally res this? If so, continue! It looks cool!

 

Edited by Dannyrulx
Added more detail to him, and included some more about his SO.
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18 hours ago, Dannyrulx said:

Edit: Did I just accidentally res this? If so, continue! It looks cool!

(I hope @greenglacier's feeling good enough to continue this too...)

It was an hour past sunset... fairly dark... Jeff didn't have to get a new suit... no one was actually going to look at him... or rather, he can't afford anyone seeing him. He needed something else. No one was around... he tested his neck... cracking it to relieve some pressure off of it... though he didn't really need to... he shouldn't have taken a risk... he never does... but that little "cat"... he really wanted to get this note so badly... "This kid will be the death of me..." he said coldly, smirking at the thought of dying... He went back up to his secret room and donned a new suit -- he made a mental note to sew that button on later -- he took the mask and put it in a pocket inside his suit along with the note... it read "A hunter comes to cull the cloaked... shadows be warned.". He walks out into the night feeling somewhat refreshed... and yet a empty... he bounds for the Classy Cat Café (formerly called the Shadow Cat's Cloak Coffee Shop but they changed it for obvious reasons...)

 

(Night just started...)

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(This roleplay getting more and more interesting)
(I just noticed that the Gestapo is quite similar to that metro police or combine. At least in behavior)
(I'm not joining yet due my condition can't be called just fine but sometimes I check up here, what's good. Take care for now everyone in the dark corners)

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Roman pushed away from his desk, the castors on his chair giving out a slight squeak as they slid across the hardwood floor. He stepped up, pushed the chair back in, and made sure that his papers were all in line and filed properly. He walked over to the coat rack on the wall, picked up his greatcoat, and slipped it on, the heavy fabric comfortable against his blazer. He made sure his chest holster was fitting properly, and checked his handgun, before easing it in. Making sure his tie was straight, he descended the stairs from his office building, giving the receptionist a nod on his way out.

Walking past the dreary shops, many of them closing up for the day, he slipped into the train station just as the sun dipped below the horizon. He stopped, and spent the change in his pocket on a small, black coffee, and boarded the train that would take him home. He had just thrown away his cup when the train pulled into another station, and four Gestapo officers burst into the carriage. "Nobody move! Nobody talk! Nobody breathe!"

Roman, did the opposite. Standing up, he began to walk over to the officers, when he heard the distinctive "cli-clink" of a handgun being pulled back, and one of the officers had a gun pointing at his chest. "What. Did. He. Just. SAY?" Roman vaguely recognized the man, a common thug named Malcom, with short, brown hair that had recently been cut, a hint of a stubble, and a stocky, powerful build. He knew that he was below his rank. "I could have you arrested for that" said Roman, turning his collar so that the Gestapo badge was visible to the soldier. The man gulped, uncocked the pistol, and lowered it.

"So officers, what appears to be the problem, and more importantly," he said, opening his greatcoat to pull out his gun. "Can I be of service in anyway?"

(I hope this is in the "vein" of posts. I apologize for the slight backtracking in time, I simply felt that it made more sense for him to be going home before sunset, rather than after.)

Edited by Dannyrulx
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@Dannyrulx what an intro. Much awe, such pow, just wow!

The receptionist was still on Alexandra's mind. Did he know about the shadow, trying to hide it? That'd draw all attention off her and onto the hotel staff. On the other hand, what if the receptionist didn't know, and the shadow fled or even killed the officer? She'd be to blame, and everybody knew her face.

At last she arrived at her destination. The sun had just set, the patrols were gradually retreating, making way for shadows. Alex was looking at a stylish, but dark nightclub of sorts. Then she looked down at herself and saw dirty trousers. Getting in could be difficult.

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"Nothing you need to know, all classified... What rank are you?" questioned the officer.

"Higher than you aresehole. Why did you just burst into a metro?" Snapped Roman

"Classified Sir"

"What part of "higher rank" do you not understand captain?"

"This is not rank-classified sir..."

"I hate you morons. This is my stop anyway. If I see you again, expect disciplinary action." Roman walked out, carefully replacing his gun and drawing his greatcoat back over his chest. "Why do junior officers have superiority complexes all the goddamn time?" He muttered. Finally he reached his house. Fishing in his pocket, he neatly pulled out a set of keys, and popped the wooden door opens. Immediately, the smell of macaroni cheese hit him. "Something smells good..."

Out of the kitchen came a laugh. "I just got home love, it's microwaved."

"Just because it's not home-cooked dosn't mean it's bad y'know..."

Jo stepped out of the kitchen, giggling. "It's good to see you back. How was your day?" Roman took a step towards her, kissed her, and said "let me get my coat off... And my gun too. Woudn't want Skadi getting angry and firing."

"Since when did you name your gun?"

"Her name's been there for ages..."

"You're gonna make me jealous, spending all your time with that gun..."

"You can't **** a pistol. A rifle on the other hand..."

"Don't even think about it..." They both burst out laughing.

Edited by Dannyrulx
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