Forums » General Roleplay » Street life (On the run from the police)

The sound of sirens blare as you try to catch your breath, hiding in a closed down wal-mart. You crawl silently to the back, once you're there, you pick up a newspaper that has your name on the cover. You’re wanted.

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Hello!

In this role play, you’re just another rat on the streets of Manhattan, New York. You can choose to join the other characters or fly solo the whole time. The life of crime is the only way to survive here

{{Basic rules}}

No over powered characters (Leader of most feared gangs, Gods, etc)

No intamate romance, remember that children can see this.

If your character kills someone, DON’T go full detail (guts, brains, organs, etc)

No Mary Sues or Gary Stus

No mention of drug abuse

Occasional alcohol is OK

Don’t ask to join or introduce your character and blab away, just jump in!

Do not say anything messed up about minors
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Once I have enough players, I will close this forum.

Players needed: 3

({Have Fun!})

Sarah grunts as she finishes a fight with a drunk young woman. The girl throws Sarah on the ground and starts to kick her. Sarah grabs the girl’s hair and pulls her down next to her, when the girl’s head hits the ground, she get knocked out. Sarah steals her wallet, keys, and phone from her bag. Removing every trace of identification in case the girl dies from brain damage. Sarah smashes the phone on the ground and runs, wiping the blood from her nose on her white sweatshirt.

Kori slinks through the shadows of the alleyway, trying their best to stay out of sight of any passerby. Their leg twinges at the knee with every movement, and though they had scrubbed at their face with the t-shirt they wore earlier, they can still feel the blood crusted under their nose and down their upper lip. Their shoes, worn thin by the last year on the street, do little to protect their feet from the broken glass littering the concrete. They stumble and roughly shoulder the wall, pushing themselves back up with a grunt. You must keep moving, they remind themselves, reaching up to push back their overgrown bangs. The once glossy and well cared for hair is now split and dry, and yet the teen is loath to cut off the remains of the faded dye that had once meant so much to them. You must find somewhere. Somewhere else. Somewhere other than here.
As they stumble along, pausing once to try and stretch their aching leg, the sudden sharp crack of something being broken catches their ear. Despite the now constant bone-deep exhaustion that seems to permeate their every waking or resting moment, they immediately snap to awareness, tensing. Their weight shifts to the balls of their feet, preparing for a quick flight. When they catch sight of Sarah at the other end of the alley, they throw themselves back against the wall, heart pounding. For not the first time, they ache for the warm comforts of home. Kumara and rewena bread. Heavy quilts gifted by friendly neighbours soon after the family had moved to their small Georgia home. The safety of a house, the licking flames in the fireplace that chased the chill away. Most of all... the memory of their small brother calling them Uaua (as all young children do, he had trouble with the full word when they had last seen him), and their cousin with his teasing Yān Kori. They don't dare close their eyes, staring down the narrow side street. They will survive this.

Sarah hears footsteps of a nearby person, she quickly grabs her gun and keeps it in front of her at all times. “Show yourself, come on, fight like the man you are!” She begins to walks toward where the sounds originated from. A small corner at the other end of the alley.

Kori, on instinct, presses closer to the cold brick, fingers curling. When they see a snatch of light from a nearby streetlamp glint off of the barrel of the gun, barely enough time to discern what it is, they have to bite their lip nearly hard enough to draw blood to prevent from making a noise. They remain for a moment longer, but a traitorous spasm in their overtaxed knee makes them stumble forward. Their hands shoot forward both for balance and to indicate that they mean no harm. "Wait!" They hiss, not wanting to be too loud. The sparse light casts shadows over their face that make the dark smudges under their eyes appear even deeper, thin face made to look even gaunter than it truly is. "I'm not any danger. I don't want anything from you, I swear!" They straighten enough to release the strain on their leg, shoulders hunched in an attempt to look smaller, less threatening. Their dark eyes flicker to Sarah's quickly and away even faster, gaze fixing at a point somewhere over the girl's shoulder.

Jay leans on the wall of the ally covered In bruises and blood. With a corpse laying across from him holding the knife that he used. He smirks,"that's what's happening when you cross me, james."
Jay walks up to the corpse and takes the knife bike and walks out the ally, and starts to make way to "home". He starts to hear a feminine voice and the voice of a man, he decides to head in the direction of the voices to watch what is going on.

Elune was living the high life. She ran her Organization. As she did dangerous jobs and forming what she called friends. She hated the cops. Most avoided the general dump she called home.

Foxy sat down on the curb, with some clothing she could only get.

Kori continues to stare at the fixed point just over Sarah's shoulder, backing away slowly. Their hands begin to drop slightly as they near the end of the alley, and the light. They startle somewhat as a car passes, but still barely react, too focused on the woman in front of them and her gun. A bottle clatters away from their feet into the street, and they take that knowledge of being in a more visible space to turn and run, sprinting down the sidewalk until they reach a known spot. The teenager huddles on the ground next to a relatively clean dumpster, hidden from view by the general world. They shiver, curling tighter, chin resting on their knees.

Elune got bored running things. So off she went to train. She trained for hours on end. She Was trained from birth to be a assassin. It was the whole reason she was born or that was what everybody said.

Foxy would walk over to Elune

“What do you want?” She held bag beside her.

"Are you on the run as well as me?" She asked

“Why do you ask?”

"Because I'm on the run from cops" She replied back