Tony

(Hello, my name is Tony and after going through your site I have to admit I am very interested in Rain Dogs. I may have some difficulty in joining you, however, as I do not yet own APB. I have tried my friends copy and I plan on getting APB eventually, but it may be awhile. I have some experience with RP on Blizzard's Battle.net in the days of Diablo and Starcraft when I was just a lad. Allow me, if you will, to make my introduction via RP and see where it goes from there. Feel free to join in, if you wish.)

With a sobering snap, the last assailant fell on the bloodied concrete, strewn on the bodies of his accomplices. The alley was small already, but all the bodies made it claustrophobic. Tony did his best to move away from the bloodied walls, but a man can only go so fast with bruised ribs, two swollen eyes, and a bloodied nose. There were far, far more wounds, but they were merely scratches in comparison. They would eventually join the endless ocean of scar tissue that was his body.

Struggling against the walls of the enclosing space and exhausted beyond comprehension, Tony slowly collapsed with his back against a dumpster, facing the havoc he wrought moments earlier, seeming to be within spitting distance. To Tony, the few feet he walked felt comparable to his 8 year stint in the Marine Corps.

His return home from which was heralded with accusations of "Baby Killer!" and the horrific nightmares of what he had done for his country.

War was a game played by old men and sustained with the blood of stupid young men. Unfortunately, Tony was incredibly stupid and angry when he was young, a realization that was far too late to change anything. A realization that would haunt him the rest of his life.

When his contract with the Devil finally expired, Tony abandoned everything he knew for the freedom of a vagabond.

Here he was now in an alley in San Paro; bloodied, propped up against a dumpster, and sadly, a little remorseful that his attackers were unable to end him. He gently prodded his nose in an attempt to assess his damage. It was broken, Tony realized as he brought his hand to his face to try and see the blood on it through hindered vision.

It was then when Tony felt it.

A single droplet of rain came down, almost dead center of his hand. Tony tried to look up, in vain, at the churning gray mass above him. To Tony, the crushing truth seemed to be that even the heavens were against him. Tony managed the strength to prop his side in between the dumpster and the alley wall, leaning against it while hugging his legs in a sitting version of the fetal position as more droplets began falling sporadically.

His bruised ribs were screaming, but it was all he could do to shield himself as rain began to pour down.

(When you do end up in-game, we would be thrilled to have you. Don't let the wait discourage you from participating on the forums, as you have already developed a wonderfully bruised character. Welcome to the Rain Dogs, Tony!)

(Thank you for the welcoming. I'll try my best to be active on the forums, but my character is a former Sergeant who's orders got his squad killed. As such he doesn't speak much now, and he would much rather suffer than ask for help. If you RP with me I should let you know that he is extremely stubborn, and tries to use violence only as a last resort. Now for the sake of back story, along with me trying to kill time, I'm going to do a couple flashbacks as Tony rides out the storm.)

Tony's mind wandered as the rain began to overpower him. He didn't mind, the cool water helped numb the pain. Tony began to think of how he got to this point. For some reason, his mind drifted to the city of San Diego in California. There, there was the recruit depot of the USMC, the place where he first abandoned everything.

Tony thought of his first night at the Marine Corp Recruit Depot San Diego. He thought of the first time he met his Drill Instructor.

"Well, Goddamn, if THIS isn't the biggest Mexican I've ever seen! You look like a giant monkey son! Tell me, did your mama ever tell you who your real daddy was?! 'Cause I got one-hundred dollars saying it was Sasquatch! Did your mama ever tell you how Sasquatch fucked her silly?!"

"Sir, no Sir," Tony replied to his new Drill Instructor at the top of his lungs. He had a feeling the Corps wasn't as glamorous as his recruiter had lead him to believe.

"No?! Well, Goddamn, your mama's a bigger whore than I guessed!"

"Sir, no Sir!"

"No?!" The Drill Instructor was on his tip toes so he could yell at the top of his lungs into Tony's face. "DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO SPEAK MAGGOT?!"

"Sir, no Sir!"

"That's right, you big dumb monkey! If your good I'll get you a banana! Would you like that Sasquatch Jr?!"

"Sir, yes Sir!" Tony thought if maybe he went along with the DI, he would leave him alone. He was wrong.

"Good! You know what, maggot?! I like you! Hell, you should come over to my house and fuck my sister! Tell me, why did you come to my beloved Corps?!"

"Sir, to learn how to kill, Sir!"

"Oh, so your a goddamn killer!"

"Sir, yes Sir!"

"Bullshit, I bet your ass couldn't smother a turd! I'll tell you what maggot, since I like you so much you now have the honors of being my bitch! From now on whatever task that is given to you sorry wastes of life, you will be the first to volunteer for it! Do you understand?!"

"Sir, yes Sir!"

"Bullshit, sound off like you have a pair!"

"Sir, yes Sir!!"

"Goddamn it, Sasquatch Jr! Is that all you got?!"

"SIR, YES SIR!!"

For the next three months, Tony was forced to keep his agreement. He was the first in line to do everything from cleaning the head, to leading his fellow recruits through the Crucible. In the end it made him a better Marine, and on the day of his graduation he thanked his DI with a level of sincerity that he wasn't aware he possessed.

"HOW TALL ARE YOU PRIVATE PILE?"

"SIR, FIVE FOOT NINE, SIR!"

"FIVE FOOT NINE? GOD DAMN, I DIDN'T KNOW THEY STACKED SHIT THAT HIGH!"

Love me some Full Metal Jacket.

(Yeah, I had a hard time thinking of getting chewed out by a Drill Instructor without the image of R. Lee Eremy.)

Tony snapped back to reality, suddenly realizing that his earlier opponents were gone. He wasn't sure how long he was daydreaming, or when they had left, but it couldn't have been long as the rain was still pouring down. Deciding that the lost feeling in his extremities were probably a bad sign, Tony began slowly making his way out towards the street, past the ground that had been washed clean of the blood.

If only it would flood and wash this whole town to hell, Tony thought as he paused for a moment. His bruised ribs were making it difficult to breath with each labored heave of his chest, making him easily winded. He planted his free hand against the alley to help hold him up as his other arm was tucked protectively against his ribs.

With each slow inhalation, he felt a small bout of vertigo which became a moment longer than the last; each dizzying moment bringing an unwanted memory...

"We are to hold this position at all costs, do you understand," asked the Sergeant. His face was serious as he slowly made eye contact with every man in the makeshift command post in the center of the market square they were ordered to hold.

"Aye Sir," chanted the seventeen Marines in unison. They were all that was left of the three squads of thirteen men that had been sent to secure a foothold for the rest of the landing party which was en route. They had to hold the market square for another fifteen minutes before they were reinforced.

"That last attack was just to see what we had, they're gonna try and shit on us now. Hernandez!"

"Sir," Tony stepped forward.

"Since your the only Automatic Rifleman left, you'll take the Nothern entrance along with myself, Jones and Taylor."

"Aye, Sir!"

"Greene, you take Miller, Davis and the spare M249 to the Western entrance!"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Wilson, Taylor, and Anderson take the eastern entrance, while Clarke, Rodriguez, and Lewis take the south. The remaining four hold this post and run ammo. If there is a breach, you four are to hold the center and protect our flanks. Understood?"

"Yes Sir," chanted everyone in unison.

"Then move the hell out."

Nothing happened for a whole ten minutes, each second feeling as if it took a year to pass. Tony held his M249 SAW firmly against his shoulder, the bipod engaged upon the hood of some abandoned car. It was too still and Tony could feel the burning of angry eyes staring at him. It was then that he saw movement.

A child, no more than five years old, wandered into his kill zone. She was sobbing, hands to her eyes as she walked towards the four Marines guarding the Northern entrance.

"Sir," Tony called to the Sergeant.

"I see her," commented the Sergeant,"We can't help her. Its too dangerous to go out there. Fire a warning shot."

"What," protested Taylor," Sir, she's just a kid!"

"I said fire a warning shot!"

The single report broke the eerie silence. Tony and the lost child both seemed to jump from the sound of his weapon. The child was frozen with fear, staring at Tony helplessly.

"She's not moving," Tony reported.

"Fire another," Replied the Sergeant.

"But," began Tony's protest when Taylor suddenly exited his cover to help the child, the entirety of which was being protested by Jones. Taylor was almost upon the child when the explosion turned them both into a bloody mist accompanied by chunks of flesh and tactical gear. Apparently, the child was attached to some explosive detonated with a remote.

"Goddamn it," Cursed the Sergeant, "They used this same fucking trick in 'Nam!"

As soon as the remaining Marines were informed of the situation via radio, a whole classroom's worth of children appeared in front of the Northern entrance.

"Sir," Tony began but was cut off by the Sergeant.

"Open fire," he said coldly.

"They're just," Tony began to protest, but again was cut off.

"OPEN FIRE!"

Tony wasn't sure how he managed to squeeze the trigger, but he did, yelling a mad war cry to try and cope with the atrocities he was committing.