- A soldier from an invading super army (aliens? science experiments? supers?) has a field day while being tasked to level a small town. (soldier x civilian)
- A mechanic and fighter pilot who have always had an antagonistic relationship on base are suddenly forced to survive together. Futuristic/sci-fi/space. (mechanic x pilot)Fandom:
- The last surviving Borrower in a Manhattan brownstone, a feminine young man with a thing for interesting textures, finally gets discovered. What's more is that he's blind. (The Borrowers: borrower x male homeowner)
- A mk. 4 jaeger with only one surviving pilot "goes sentient" one evening after the shatterdome is struck with lightening and the whole installation goes dark. (Pacific Rim: pilot x jaeger) Full Plates"Above My Paygrade"
On Earth in the somewhat distant future, Michigan Hale, gun for hire, is just trying to make ends meet. The job market sucks for everybody these days, bounty hunters included, and she finds herself taking a job that's been sitting unclaimed for just a little too long and rewarding just a little too much. And it's an off-world job, too! But "no head is too small when the rent's overdue," as she'd say. Little does Mitch know that she'd just accepted one of the worst jobs in the system: not only do they send her after a formidable criminal and prison escapee, but her clients were wanting him back alive.Me: Michigan. A neutrois lady, with a small but solid frame and coming in at 5'3" and 120lbs. She has had genital surgery, but I will not disclose the details until your character is in a position to see for themselves. Late 30's, short dark hair with shaved sides pulled back in a ponytail, prematurely graying. Her hunting style relies mostly on gadgetry rather than brute strength, firepower, or sharpshooting. Not exceptionally skilled in securing live bounty.
You: The hardened criminal. You've done some real scary shit in your time and have a network of underground support, but have largely stayed away from cartels and organized crime, preferring to work alone. They say that there's not a redeeming bone in your body, but you at least have a warped sense of pity to prevent you from being a complete sociopath. I don't know where you are or why you're there, let alone what kind of history with hunters you have; all I know is that I gotta haul your ass back back to Earth and you're not too keen on it. (I'm requesting that he have a history of bisexual relationships, too.)"50th Parallel"
Remember when the "zombie apocalypse" genre was the most popular thing ever back in the early 00's? Well, it's 2052 and it actually happened... only, it's not like all the movies and comic books thought. A new virus, similar to rabies, being developed by malign military interests escapes out into the world and decimates the planet's population in a matter of months, down to less than a 20th of what it was prior. Entire countries are wiped off the map and much of the world's population relocates closer to the poles since the virus has a harder time propagating in cooler climes. New borders are erected at the 50th parallel N and 30th S, and thousands patrol them 24/7, 365.Me: Caleb, a 20-something non-op trans man assigned to a graveyard shift on a stretch of the border near what used to be Yellowknife, NT. The only surviving member of his family is an older brother, though the outpost community he lives in is very tight-knit. He's got olive skin and dark, wavy hair that mostly remains hidden under a thick wool cap during the winter months. He was barely a teenager when the plague arrived in the Pacific Northwest and never really had the chance to enjoy his youth. Apocalypse will make you grow up fast. Still, he takes things in stride and has a good sense of humor about him, and works hard. He likes card games and has a secret dream of becoming a burlesque dancer should life go back to normal at all.
But what about those zombies, you ask? Well, they were a mindless and blood-thirsty horde for a time, but a decade after the plague, the remaining outposts of "original" humans began to notice their adversary had regained much of their prior cognitive ability, and perhaps even then some. In fact, they had managed to gather themselves into highly organized groups, complete with tactical strategy and a taste for military victory. They'd grown bigger, stronger, and just... different than the people they might have been before getting sick. What do they call themselves? The Evolved.
You: A curious member of the Federation of Evolved Humans. You have vague memories of who you were in a previous life; maybe you worked at the docks or in construction, hell, maybe you were even an engineer. You don't remember, and it doesn't matter much besides. The world has changed, but whether or not its for the better is something you've been contemplating on for a few years now. Still, for all your navel-gazing, there's nothing quite like crushing a skull in your bare hand. You come in at around the 7-8' foot range in height, with a build of your choosing, and blackened scleras are the only thing that set your race apart from looking physically human anymore.
_______________*The gender of my characters IS open for discussion, though I ask for sensitivity in the matter.