Young Writers Society

Name: Ridic

Gender: Male

Age (any age, but keep it believable.): 20

Agency (The Cliches, or the 'Rival Agency): The Cliches

Cliche (prep, jock, nerd, etc.): The Cool Dude

Personality: He's really laid back and just effortlessly cool. He doesn't need to do much to make others like him. He's really nonchalant and under the radar. He doesn't encourage fights, but he doesn't stop them either. Actually, he'll be the one to jump into a fight with a straight face, beat the crap out of the other person, then walk away and light a smoke. He doesn't show more emotion than he needs to and rarely talks about his feelings. He always keeps up his mask of being perfectly calm even in tough situations and never talks about his feelings. By keeping up his shields, no one would ever suspect that he was actually the mole.

Appearance: He always wears a black leather jacket, a white shirt underneath, dark blue jeans, and boots. Every once in a while, he'll throw in his favorite fedora.

Favorite style: Poisons. Manipulation.

Up for love?: Yes.

Other: He smokes.

ultraviolet wrote:I have a few questions: One, are the rival agency people cliches, or just regular assassins? Two, If they are regular, How exactly would you define a "normal assassin"? I would've posted these in the DT, but there isn't one.

Oh, and if I did make a character, would I get to name the agency?

The rival agency's employee's can be cliched or not, though it's PREFERRED that they are. You know, the generic villain, world domination, kill all enemies, that stuff...but that's not required. (And there's a DT now )

Yes, I say that first one to sign up as a 'bad guy' gets to name the agency.

Maddox Patt, Hacker, Gamer, and to a lesser known extent, Pirater.

I wouldn't mind bein' in it, hit me up on Facebook.

Maddox, c'mon mate, use the profile I set up in the first post. Makes everything a bunch easier.

Alright, I think if we get at least one or two villains we can get started.

I don't know anything about these things, so that's why I said to talk to me on facebook. Jeez.

And no, I will not read the Forum post, I can't be arsed to read that much, it's 12:45. I'm tired, just gimme a spot before they all go.

Oh wait, never mind.

I seemed to have herped a derp.

Name: Apache Mode (I also don't have a name, why? Harder to trace.)

Gender: Male

Age (any age, but keep it believable.): 33

Agency (The Cliches, or the 'Rival Agency): The Cliches

Cliche (prep, jock, nerd, etc.): Sort of Hipster-Computer Techie

Personality: Likeable, fun, but annoying at times. Pretty funny, but only to certain people, don't really fit in. Detest Emo people (you can see why). I also like me some video games. Yes, I want to look like Jemaine Clement. He's a cool guy.

Appearance (Description and/or picture. No scene models): Brown hair, glasses, dresses kind of grungy. Always wheres a flat cap, 5' 9". Generally smiling, never seen without a smoke.

Favorite style (poisons, seduction, sniper etc.)?: I hack. You have a nice car, I hack it, rig the engine, blow that thing up. Got a computer, fry the hard drive, you look inside, bam processor fan in your face. Case closes, head cut off. Have an iPhone, it gets mysteriously lit on fire and you go up in flames faster than a Heavy going up against a Pyro. Playing your favorite GoG: Grenades Go Boom 2 map? Circuit breaks, shorts, and your house is in flames, with you in it.

Yes, I am never anywhere near the scene of the crime, but I am reliable. Very. Reliable.

Up for love?: Maybe, why not.

Other: I like Indie rock, you know Pixies, stuff like that. Also, I like a lot of techno... somehow, I'll work that in.

Okay, I'll bite.

Name: Kree

Gender: Girl

Age (any age, but keep it believable.): 18

Agency (The Cliches, or the 'Rival Agency): Rival Agency (is "Excalibur's Bullet" an okay name? You know, because Excalibur is deadly, can cut through steel and rock, and is unearthly, and the bullet part is taking that and adding to it quick and you have no time to react.)

Cliche (prep, jock, nerd, etc.): The "Killer" or the "Ninja"

Personality: Deadly. She won't hesitate to kill and isn't a fan of personal relationships. She can creep around like a ninja without being seen, and carries around 12 weapons regularly, even when she isn't assigned a job.

Appearance (Description and/or picture. No scene models): But without the stupid red scarf thing.

And she always wears this:



Favorite style (poisons, seduction, sniper etc.)?: Knives, daggers, guns, swords, anything like that.

Weapons (I had to add this. ): The one in her picture, and

These ones are strapped into various pocket in her pants:








And these two are tucked into her combat boots:



These one is strapped across her back:



And this one is strapped to her thigh, under her pants:



This one is strapped onto her hip:



And these are on her off days. When she's on duty, you don't want to know what kind of heat she's packing.

(I think a had a little too much fun finding all of these. )

Up for love?: If you can get her to open up.

Other: In her free time, she likes to search around for unique and antique weapons. She has a room at her house that's walls are lined top to bottom with maces, swords, daggers, knives, guns, nun chucks, axes, and any other kind of weapon you can imagine.

Alright, a couple more villains and we can start!

I guess I should be annoying and remind people of some things:

-Ridic/ReisePiecey is the mole, he leaks info to the rival agency, no one knows 'bout him, blah blah...you've all seen those movies, right?
-Use as MANY cliches as you possibly can, but keep it original. Also, don't make it so cliche that everyone can tell what the plot is going to be from the start. Try to keep everyone guessing.

Name: Brian Copenhagen

Gender: Male

Age: 25

Agency: Excalibur's Bullet

Cliche: Emo/Scene

Personality: He is pretty much always on his own. He is very romantic and into the arts: music, drawing, writing, poetry. He is a big sweetheart, but has problems with himself. He would do anything for the one he loves, but he has been hurt and scorned a lot, so he is very careful not to put himself in that kind of situation. He longs to find something permanent. He tries not to let his emotions effect his job, but sometimes they come out. He is very moody all the time, and so is hard to be around, but can be a genuinely happy person, at times.

Appearance: He has short black hair, and green/hazel eyes. He always wears long sleeve shirts, and skinny jeans. He is 5'9 and skinny. He has some muscle, but not a lot. He is very pale, and ghost like.

Favorite Style: Knives

Up for love: YES!!!

Other: None.

Alright, we might as well get this thing rolling. Letsa go!



Greyson; The Cliches Base in New Rotterdam, Nevada; March 4th; Morning


Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep- SLAM.

Greyson groaned as his hand slid off the alarm clock next to his bed. It was too freakin' early in the day to be waking up. He looked at the clock: 5:00 A.M.

Waaay too freakin' early, he thought, throwing the sheets off and shifting to a sitting position on the side of the bed. He glanced around the room that he had been staying in for the past week - it was extremely bare, with grey walls, ceiling and carpet, and grey sheets and pillow casing. To add some color, the Boss had made sure to put in a grey-framed picture of a stormy sea. The only problem was, stormy seas were grey.

Of course, Greyson didn't care. He hadn't been staying here long, and he wouldn't be staying much longer. It's not as if he had a permanent home, anyway. Somewhere to call his own, with his own possessions and some freakin' COLOR. But that was the punishment for being in The Cliches...you had to keep switching homes.

He got up and went to the closet in the cramped room. Inside was one red t-shirt and one pair of blue jeans. Not even a freakin' change of underwear.

He quickly slipped on the clothes as the intercom crackled to life and a heavy voice filled the room. Breakfast is served. Please report to the cafeteria if you are hungry. If not, get to the cafeteria and eat something.

Greyson opened the door and slipped out into the hallway. No one else had waken up yet, apparently, as the hallway was empty. Striding for the stairs to head up to the cafeteria, he hoped that today's freakin' mission would be a fun one.

Because these days, spent here in this grey-colored hole, were just freakin' perfect.

Kayta

Five am... what a time to get back at. I was supposed to get back at eleven the night before, but no. The terrorist couldn't be reasonable and drink the poison, instead I have to inject it into his lard ass while we were... I giggled and stopped my inward ranting. I hadn't even had the chance to change, so I was still wearing my outfit from the job. Mr. Bigg and a few other people would love this. I checked my watch again as I walked into the safe building. It was food time, I was starving, they better of left some stuff for me. Either that or I could share a 'private breakfast' with Mr.Bigg.

I smiled at one of the guys who checked me out as I passed him. His eyes rested on my back end, I turned and shook my finger at him.
"Nothing for you here, keep moving." I giggled, walking off towards the cafeteria. There was food, and surprisingly not a lot of people were here. I grabbed a bowl of oatmeal and went to sit near one of my good old friends, I scoffed, ya right... well my competition Greyson. Might as well be nice, and keep your competition close... or something like that.

Believe it or not I couldn't describe this...

Ridic; Cliche base cafe; March 4th; Breakfast

I rolled out of bed and ran a hand through my bed hair. I looked over and checked the clock, rolling my eyes when I noticed I'd missed a good ten minutes of lunch. Trying not to waste anymore time, I threw my sheets back, grabbed a plain white shirt, my jacket, and a pair of jeans off of my floor, and started off to breakfast.

The cafe was, as usual, half empty. A light buzz of conversation filled the air as people discus recent, and even old, assassinations. Only the ones with the most interesting story getting the spotlight. After grabbing a plate of pancakes, I scanned the room for Kayta. She was supposed to have a mission last night and who was I not to get all the right details? It was, after all, my job. I spotted her at the table, clad in some type of belly dancers outfit. Allowing myself a small smirk, I started off towards her table.

"Morning," I said smoothly before taking a across the table from her, next to Greyson.

Kayta, Cliche base cafe, March 4th; Breakfast

I smiled at Ridic as he sat across from me. At lease he was keeping his space. In this outfit, I didn't want any of these pervy guys near me.
"Yes, it is morning, very good." I mocked, faking an applause as I took another bite of oatmeal. Greyson laughed plainly, Ridic faked a laugh and turned back to me.
"Very funny, how was the mission." He asked, I smiled brightly, this was my chance to shine! I pushed my bowl away slightly as another, random guy I really didn't know came and sat beside me. I sighed dramatically, before continuing.
"It was absolutely horrid, The weather was horrible! The guy didn't even know how to..."
"To much information." Greyson sighed, I glared at him and sat back down. I crossed my arms over my chest, the guy beside me cursed silently then put his arms around me.
"It's OK, we all have bad jobs every now and then." He comforted. I hugged him back tightly, pretending to be offended by Greyson.

Parker

In the basement of the base there was a work out room. I had gotten up early to work on the punching bags. Each blow I gave to the bag, I left out my frustration at a job I had about a week ago that I almost failed. He had his hands on my throat. Stinking son of a bitch. Well, he was dead now. And he deserved it too.

Around five, I called it a morning and went to get breakfast.

I grabbed whatever crap they were serving that day of the table and sat next to Greyson.

"It's OK, we all have bad jobs every now and then." I heard Ridic say. I chuckled under my breath, and then noticed what Kayta was wearing.

"Since when did the circus come to town?" I said. "Or are you getting ready for Halloween early?"

"It was for a job," she sneered.

"Of course it was. Or maybe you just like dressing up," I winked, and laughed along with Ridic and Greyson. I watched her cheeks grow red, and laughed some more.

Greyson; The Cliches Base in New Rotterdam, Nevada; March 4th; Morning

Greyson couldn't help but laugh as Katya's cheeks burned a fiery red. "But really Katya, that outfit really brings out your...uhm...eyes. It looks...good?"

Katya giggled. "Yes, yes, it does really show off my beauty, does it not?" She giggled and winked playfully at Greyson.

Ridic looked at Greyson. "So, do you know when the next big mission is?"

In the contract killing business, there were the usual jobs, then there were the 'big' jobs: the head of corporations, political figures, the challenging and rewarding missions. The last such mission had been a week ago.

Greyson shrugged. "I think today. Someone wanna take the bullet and go talk to Mr. Bigg?"

Okay...Here's Ismene's chance to shine

_______________________

Ismene(Cliches base cafe; March 4th; morning/breakfast)

Katya's outfit was awful. First, it was annoying, clinking and clacking together. Second, the fact that Katya seemed to enjoy prancing around girlishly was doubly annoying. I glared at Katya.

"Liking your outfit?" I said coldly. Katya looked over at me but doesn't reply. I know it's a sure indication I should hold my tongue and that Katya, as usual, doesn't want to start a fight.

I listen to my babbling comrades, but take no part in their conversations until Greyson mentions our next mission, casually asking someone to go retrieve it from Mr. Bigg. I sit up properly, feel a surge of energy flow through me. I love getting the missions first.

"I'll get it," I announce loud enough that everyone can hear, but not yelling. Everyone's looks over at me.

"Great!" Greyson says, breaking the silence. I stand up, adjusting my white, long-sleeved, scoop-necked shirt. Pulling my silver scarf I have around my neck a little tighter, I head towards the door that leads me to the stairs that will eventually take me to Mr.Bigg.

*Dropping out, guys! Sorry.*