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Bleach Story RPG

AU Bleach Roleplay Forum, where you can create your own RP character.


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on Tue Apr 17, 2018 10:11 am

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8th Division
8th Division
I'd decided the Committee wasn't quite what I wanted. Woohoo, it had cool tech, but so did a lot of places. Honestly, I'd gotten sick of New York altogether, so to LA I go. City of Cyber Angels it was. Not like it was any better than NYC, but hey, it had its moments. The real reason I chose here? The Order. And apparently I wasn't the only one to come to find them. It was quiet out this way, and it was cool. It's a refreshing change of pace from city life, even though I'm still in a city. The compound was a college, converted from abandoned place of tears and teen pregnancies to something actually useful. Granted it looked and felt like a prison, I still felt the need to start scanning things as they twitched and moved.

Hey, I'm a lucky girl. I get to go to a prison that's not a prison. And I get paid to snag useful intel. That's something I could easily get behind. As for the new people? Heh, who could guess what surprises they would bring?


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on Tue Apr 17, 2018 10:43 am

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Shinigami
Shinigami

Muninn wandered into what appeared to be a heavily guarded fortress crossed with a school. The guards stopped him at the gate temporarily, but he flashed his credentials and they let him through, although not without glancing distastefully at his Zanpakuto. He didn't blame them, honestly. The organization they worked for was highly secretive, and the guards stood around for a reason. A punkish nineteen to twenty year old like him wasn't the kind of person you'd let into a standing military compound. Then again, he wasn't the typical kid.

After the fall of the Gotei 13 and the Seireitei, Muninn escaped to the World of the Living before he got dusted like the rest of the oh-so-venerable Kuchiki Clan. Once he was there, he was unable to get in contact with the rest of the Gotei, and so he integrated himself fairly well in the community. At least, that's what he claims. The truth is that he started working as a killer for hire, a mercenary capable of taking out entire bases in the Middle East and any other war-torn country with just a sword, so long as you had enough money.

It was, of course, when he was found in the middle of a massacre in a place that the United Nations technically wasn't supposed to be in when he got a job offer. Instead of working freelance, some mysterious organization called "the Order" would be willing to hire him, or at least that's what the squad he had run into had offered. Of course, they had attempted to attack him first, but after they found out that his reaction speed was too fast for normal bullets they figured it'd be better to just report him to the higher-ups.

Combat boots clicking as he walked with his characteristic limp towards what would normally be the Principal's office, the goth-looking Shinigami breathed in gently through his nose before exhaling and knocking at the door. Just because he had become one of the best freelancers in the business didn't mean he had anything on a member of the Committee, and he could only assume this would be the same.
technique log [click to open]
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on Thu Apr 19, 2018 3:00 am

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Princess
Princess

Flipping through the pages in front of him, the white-haired male took a sip of the coffee in the mug on his mahogany desk, setting it back down on the obsidian coaster as he browsed the pages. Several stood out among the rest, but he didn't feel like filling up the Order with a bunch of above average Soldiers, he wanted perfection.

Their names and faces were blacked out. All he could see were their resumes. Several had proficiency in hacking, but this one had hacked Times Square in New York. Additionally, they'd created a vehicle from scrap and got it above the intended specs of that particular vehicle, and they'd created robots to do very tedious things. He placed that folder on the callback list to his left, which now had a total of three folders in it.

Returning to the folders, he threw away any others that were primarily hackers. He had several now, and didn't need many more. Not yet, anyway. He knew that he could always find more if necessary. The next few folders highlighted combat experiences more than anything else. There were several that had showed particular skill in combat, but one practioner in particular stood out above the rest.

A high-end heroine cartel, Bestia Grande, had been taken out in a single night. North Korea's WMD program was dismantled by a private military contractor. Finally, a team of US Special Forces was recovered after the fall of the Gotei 13, the Shinigami who had appeared in Japan a few months ago. Raising his eyebrow, the man placed that in the same stack of folders, which now had four.

He continued to go through others, until finally there was a fifth he was satisfied with. Placing it with the other four, he threw the rest into the wastebin and pulled out his phone, texting a specific number with codes that would allow him to do his job.

A few hours later, there was a knock at his door. Pressing a button below his desk, the six locks securing the door in place all opened simultaneously as the door itself disappeared, falling into the floor to allow the person entrance into the Office he now sat in, which was formerly the Principal's of the Campus.

"Welcome, welcome. Please sit down in one of the five seats in front of you. Your decision of which seat matters." Avon motioned to the five seats that were all facing the office desk. One was white leather, another was solid mahogany like his desk, the one in the middle was a rocking chair, there was a black leather one, and finally a very simple fold-out chair of crappy metal. Avon de Grey smiled again as he pulled his phone back out, crossing his legs as he sipped on his coffee once more, waiting for others to arrive. As they did so, he would say the same thing; 'have a seat. it matters.'

Finally, all five people were in the room and had sat down. Avon pressed the button below his desk once more, and the door reappeared from the floor, locking the six people in the room. There was a male with black hair who looked straight out of a video game, a brunette with faded pink eyes, a black woman with a giant gun on her lap, an obvious Quincy, and finally a girl that looked no older than seven.

"Welcome to your final test before you join The Order. My name is Avon de Grey, though I believe you all knew that. Please, introduce yourselves, and give one particular example of your accomplishments. I know your skills, I don't know who you are." Avon would flash the five folders that were now in front of them, and how none of them showed any names or pictures or even gender. He knew nothing of which folder was which person's.
technique log [click to open]
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