Street Fighter {RP}

[Miranda_]

Rules.

1. If you wish to join this RP, you must join as an established Street Fighter character. You must also play in character and not twist the character to suit yourself. Pairings are allowed, as there are many matchups hinted at in the Street Fighter universe, however be realistic.

2. Please PM me first before joining, unless you are experienced at RPing. If you are unsure as to whether or not I consider you experienced, then I'd prefer it if you messaged me rather than just jumping in.

3. If a character is taken, then hard luck; choose another. A list of Street Fighter characters can be found here. Please don't just choose one at random; think about whether or not they already fit the established plot first, and second if you can get a feel for them.

4. No Mary Sues/Gary Stus. Obey the RPG forum rules.

5. There are no character forms, so you must introduce the character within your intro. If you wish, you can do as I have done and make a "then" intro paragraph which is set in the past before you make your "now" one, but this is not compulsory. It's just something that's good to do to help other people get a feel for your character, especially if they are unfamiliar with the characters.

~~~

Character List.

Cammy - Miranda
Vega - Miranda
Chun Li - Queenie
Guile - Queenie
Rose - Chessie

~~~

M Bison is the ruthless leader of a secret terrorist organisation, Shadowlaw, and has been ruling it with an iron fist for years. As well as his various shady deals, including selling weaponry to various guerilla groups, Bison's main obsession is of finding the world's greatest fighter. Should he find this champion, Bison's evil plan is to brainwash him or her in order to use them as an assassin. But that is not his only plans for this as yet unknown individual. Bison has a secret laboratory, the location of which is unknown to all but Bison and his most trusted henchmen. He has for years been working on various experiments; cloning, tissue combinations, drugs; some of which have been tried out and found to be successful. These experiments are cloaked in secrecy, but some of the subjects who endured these inhuman experiences are still alive, and still out there somewhere in the world, tho not without both mental and physical scars. M Bison plans to find this mythical greatest fighter by holding a street fighting tournament for all the greatest fighters in the world. He will pit the competitors against each other and also against the most powerful fighters in his organisation. The last left standing will be the winner.

Elsewhere, rumors abound of an underground terrorist organization that has unleashed several attacks on worldwide governments and political figures around the globe. The people are frightened, suspecting government conspiracies and cover ups. The assassin is rarely glimpsed, but leaves a trademark in the form of a slashing claw mark on the victim's front door. These people are not even safe in their own homes, not even with the best security money can buy. The mystery assassin can get into any house, any apartment, any hotel room... and he does this with stealth and secrecy, so much that there are no witnesses who have seen him enter. In fact, on several occassions, the only inkling that anything was wrong was the next morning when the victim was discovered dead. The bodies are never intact; they are torn and butchered as tho attacked by a wild animal, with blood spattering all over the walls. Only the trademark claw slash in the wood is the clue that links all the killings together and shows that they are all committed by the same assassin... but there is no other evidence. Interpol believes that the assassin is in the pay of Shadowlaw, and has dispatched its finest members to track down the organisation's sinister leader, M Bison.

M Bison however has other concerns to focus his attention on. One is of course Interpol; which threatens to destroy everything that he has worked hard to set up. This faction is getting closer and closer to discovering his secret and destroying the work that has gone into establishing Shadowlaw and everything connected with it. Another is a military team who are unhappy with the arms deals that Shadowlaw has with various terrorist and guerrilla factions who are the enemies of the civilised world and who seek to attack the powerful countries America and the UK. This team has vowed to track down Bison and Shadowlaw and ensure that neither are around to cause any more trouble. Bison does not believe that he can be defeated, however only a fool would ignore a double threat like this; and Bison is no fool. Not only does he have convential weapons at his hands, but also his own supernatural powers which can be utilised against those he considers his enemies. He also does not care if representatives from both factions attend and compete in his tournament. Let them come. Let them come and be defeated once and for all.

[Miranda_]

(D@mn you, character limit)

Then...

A hospital ward in the middle of the day. The sun shone thru the windows, showing that everything was spotlessly clean. A few nurses could be seen, attending to patients. Curtains were pulled around some of the beds to give a modicum of privacy for the occupants. A woman with long blonde hair lay listlessly in one of these beds. She stared helplessly at the curtain in front of her, as she desperately cudgeled her brain, trying to remember her life before she had awoken in the hospital. But there was nothing, only slight confused elements which slipped away even as she grasped at them; elements which might be memories, but could just as easily be half remembered dreams. With a muffled cry of frustration, the woman turned and rested her hot cheek against the cool pillow. The only thing she could remember with any clarity was her own name; Cammy. Everything else was lost, perhaps forever. With a hand, she touched the cheek that was exposed to the air. She traced a scar that ran accross the cheek, half way to her eye. Surely she'd be able to remember getting such a wound? But nothing came, not even the half remembered fragments she'd futilely grasped at before. There was nothing there, not even a whisper of her life before. Tears slipped down Cammy's cheeks, soaking into the pillow. There was no use in trying to remember; the only thing she could do now was to try and make the most of the life she had now...

Now...

Cammy leaned casually against a wall as she held her mobile to her ear. "What did you just say?" she said into it. "This is a really terrible line... guess network coverage is really bad for this area." She laughed, idly playing with the end of one of her long blonde plaits with her free hand. "Yeah... guess I can't have everything. Back in England, there'd be excellent coverage but terrible weather. Anyway, you're saying that Interpol are getting on the case, too? Perhaps I should arrange a meeting. After all, this kind of business is the kind that at times gets a little to hot to handle and you kind of need all the help that you can get." Cammy listened to what her collegue was saying. Occasionally she winced as a squeal of feedback hit her ear, or grimaced as part of the message was lost in static.

"Yeah, I gotcha. I know what's at stake here; I'm hardly going to allow some Interpol agent to throw their weight around and jeopardise the mission. But, never underestimate the power of a legal representative. I'll be careful, yeah; I plan to just test the waters and see if any of them are amenable. Don't worry; I will definitely treat them on a need to know basis. Relax; you know me. I know what I'm doing." Cammy finished the call, then slipped the phone into its pouch on her belt. She was wearing a red beret and a green leotard, along with thick army boots. Cammy worked well in that kind of attire; she couldn't stand the thought of being bogged down in combat trousers. They didn't suit her, in any case. She had her utility belt, with its holster for her gun and pouches for her wallet and phone; she didn't need anything else. Especially not to go after scum like M Bison and Shadowlaw.

~~~

Then...

The oldest jealousy in the world; that of a son for a stepfather, an usurper coming between him and his mother. The young man took an instant dislike to his mother's new husband. In his opinion, his mother was breathtakingly beautiful, and deserved nothing but the best. His stepfather however was coarse and ugly, and was very bad mannered. His only redeeming feature was his vast wealth. This however was soon proven to be a hollow gift. The vast mansion soon echoed with the sounds of raised voices, as husband verbally attacked wife. The man, despite his advantages, was insecure; he also felt that a woman's place was below a man and that a wife should obey her husband in all matters. He also didn't take very kindly to his stepson interfering in what he considered to be a private discussion between man and wife. The young man, Vega, only began to hate and resent his stepfather all the more. Why should someone as radiant as his mother be with such a hideous creature as his stepfather, ugly both inside and out? The verbal wrangles continued, getting worse and worse. It was only a matter of time before it came to a head...

The ugly man struck out at his beautiful wife, but this time, not with words. He had a knife in his hand, and he stabbed her thru the heart. Vega had tried his hardest to save his mother, but to no avail. In a few minutes, she died, her blood soaking into her son's clothes. Vega felt something snap in his mind at that moment, as it seemed as tho he had finally seen things as they really were. "Beauty is the only truth in this world..." He kicked his stepfather's hand, knocking the knife from it and in the same instant, he picked it up and stabbed his stepfather thru the throat. The man fell with a strangled gasp of pain. Vega watched him die with no emotion at all, before wiping the knife and putting it in his stepfather's hand, to make it look as tho he had killed his wife, then stabbed himself. Vega's mind was irrevocably warped by what he had seen that day, and things would never be the same again...

Now...

Vega crept silently along the hotel corridor. It was the work of a moment for him to slip inside hotel room number thirteen. Unlucky for some... and certainly, for number thirteen's unfortunate occupant. This was an American orator who had so far enjoyed a career based on loudly and publically proclaiming his disgust for terrorist organisations. However, he had failed to realise just how dangerous a game he was playing; especially when he'd chosen Shadowlaw as his preferred target. M Bison would not allow such disrespect to go unpunished... and it had to be done in the usual way, by sending his most skillful assassin to do the honours. Vega wore bullfighter's gear, and moved like a shadow. He wore a mask over his face; not to hide his identity, but to protect his face from damage. He also wore a claw on one of his hands; a metal claw with cruel, sharp edges that cut flesh like so many knives.

He soon dispatched the unfortunate man who'd fallen afoul of Bison, without even a cry emerging from him before his throat was torn open, the blood spouting like a fountain. Vega was unmoved as he watched his victim's death throes. The man was ugly, after all. This meant that his death was well deserved. Vega felt that only beauty should ever be allowed to live; anyone who didn't fit the standards he held would be mercilessly cut down. However, as of late, he was getting weary with the assignments that Bison sent him on. Sometimes he longed to return to Spain where he had fought in both the bullfighting ring and the cage matches. The money he received from Bison meant nothing to him; and the missions were getting less and less interesting to him. Vega soon left the hotel room silently; only the trademark claw slash in the outside of the door evidence that he'd ever been there... that and of course, the devastation within.

[spirit_queen]

Characters:
Chun-Li
Guile

Then: Chun-Li

He never came home, never showed up. Sometimes he’d be very late, but he always, always came back for her. The young girl began to pace, her smooth, brown-black hair still uncombed, her onyx eyes red-rimmed from tears. Daddy, where are you? She thought, looking out her bedroom window. She was very young, only twelve, and barely spoke English; her first language was Mandarin Chinese. Her father, a top agent for Interpol, had gone on yet another mission. He always left his daughter with the nanny, and Chun-Li had faith that her dad would return for her.

In her mind, her father was a hero, an unstoppable force of good that always triumphed. So when he didn’t come home, when he was not a few days but almost two weeks late, she was devastated. So she lay in her room, refusing to come out, staring out her bedroom window all the while. But, wait, what was that? A black SUV with darkly tinted windows pulling into the driveway? Daddy! Chun-Li dashed down the stairs and threw open the front door before the man within the car could even open his car door.

But it wasn’t her father. It was a stranger, and she just knew. The girl fell to her knees and began to sob uncontrollably; he was gone. He wasn’t ever coming home again. She’d never again hear him tell her to go to bed early; she’d never again get to learn the martial arts from him. With the death of her father came the death of everything she knew, and everything she was.

Now: Chun-Li

There was only one purpose to her life: vengeance. Chun-Li, a top Interpol agent, was going to participate in the upcoming tournament to get to Bison, leader of the Shadowlaw. But she didn’t take this job to help keep the peace, or even for the pay. Rather, she’d taken this assignment to fulfill her own personal vendetta.

Chun-Li wasn’t stupid; she well knew that she couldn’t let her feelings cloud her judgment, and had long honed her control over her emotions through meditation. She strode down a busy street, ignoring the stared from people who’d never seen an outfit quite like hers; a short, cyan-and-golf qipao, brown tights, white combat boots, and ox horns.

Chun-Li jumped when her phone rang, and then answered it. “Chun-Li here… mhmm… yes…. Wait, what? Are you sure? Of course, you have my word. Chun-Li out.” She clicked the phone shut, then cursed in Chinese; she’d just been informed that an agent from Delta Red was also working on this same case, and she wasn’t pleased; the last thing she needed was someone to get in her way and drag her down during her mission.

Then: Guile

What had gone wrong?, the man asked himself as he retreated. The fluorescent lighting made his hair look mousy and lifeless, thought it was actually a vibrant orange. His brown leather boots made light tapping sounds as he ran, and he felt like a coward. How can you leave him behind like that, Guile? Huh? He thought as he fled down the corridors. They’d been so close to completing their mission, but Bison had intervened. So now Lieutenant Guile fled while his partner, Lieutenant Charlie, stayed behind to distract him.

What was that? Light, freedom. Guile sped up, and was soon out of the base. But he didn’t stop, he kept going, and turned around only when he was fifty to sixty feet away from the base. He doubled over and gasped for air, but his lungs couldn’t seem to get enough and continued to burn.

Suddenly, in a flash of light, heat, and sound, Guile looked up to see the building from which he’d just escaped in flames, and collapsing in on itself. “Charlie! CHAAAAARLIIIIEEE!!!” He screamed. His friend had never come out those doors.

Now: Guile

Somewhere downtown, Major Guile sat on a city bench outside a park, lighting himself a smoke; smoking was a bad habit, he knew, but right now he needed it. He’d just entered the fighting contest, the one hosted by Bison, to get close to him; Bison would pay for killing Charlie.

But, for now, all Guile could do was wait, much to his frustration. He was a man of action, and he hated waiting like this. Unfortunately, he could do nothing else much until the tournament arrived, and so he sat around, feeling useless, and having far too much time to think, to remember. He always went back to that day, always went over how they went about it wrong, and came out with many, many ‘if’s. But thinking about going back and all those if’s didn’t bring Charlie back, and never would.

Bison was going to pay for the loss of Guile’s best friend.

[Miranda_]

Cammy walked further down the street til she came to a comfortable bench that was sheltered under a tree; the perfect place to carry out a conversation without being overheard. She checked her phone first for the number that her collegue had given her, then dialed it into the phone and put it to her ear.

Cammy was sure that this particular Interpol agent would be amenable to a meeting, or at least, that was the plan. She might even have done the same thing that Cammy had done and entered Bison's tournament. It would be a lot better to work together, rather than fly blind.

[spirit_queen]

Chun-Li sighed when he phone rang yet again, and flipped it open. "Chun-Li here." she said. She looked around for a comfortable, quiet space to carry out a provate conversation. She soon found a bench outside the local library, in a secluded spot by a fountain. No one was anywhere around the fountain; it was a weekday, so the children were in school and the adults were at work.

[Miranda_]

"Hi," Cammy said, confidently. "You don't know me, but my name's Cammy White, and I'm a Delta Red agent. We're working on the same case. I think that we should meet to discuss perhaps joining forces."

[Cheshire1996]

Rose followed Chun-Li and didn't say anything, once again.