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| Perophila; The Revolution | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Topic Started: Oct 6 2010, 01:21 AM (8,529 Views) | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Trinity-Dragon | Oct 6 2010, 01:21 AM Post #1 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
The Hat and Crown
  ![]](http://z1.ifrm.com/static/1/pip_r.png)
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"This is your commander speaking. As of late, one of our planets has risen up in rebellion. We are unsure of the cause, but our ship has been sent in to scout the planet. Perophila. Only known race are humans, so we should handle this mission fine. Our mission requires that we determine the cause of the rebellion and then end it. Dismissed." The insurgency squad sat in their special meeting room. Every mission, they were sent in first. Scout, indentify, and destroy. The same commander they watched on the television walked into the room and sat at the table with them. "Well, you know the drill. You'll be sent in first. No support, no reinforcements. You'll be on your own once again." The squad was given immense training and had seen some of the bloodiest battles out of all the UDF soldiers. Specialty was in the past for them, for they possessed expert skills in all area. Across the board, they could fill the shoes of over dozens of soldiers. Every class. Nanites augmented their abilities severely. Ten times strength. Fifty-fold endurance and twice the max run speed. Senses heigtened manifold. These guys could fight an entire UDF army and win. Elite. "You leave in one hour. Get ready." The commander left the room. Twenty minutes later, the squad worked in the equipment room. As they equiped their full-body armor, they decided on their mission load-out. ~~~~~ (Note: Unless you are new here or are in no RPs currently, you must talk with me before making a profile) Profile:
Weapons: Primary weapons:
Secondary Weapons:
Super Weapons:
Vehicles:
Troops Squadrons:
(Note: The weapons, equipment, and later vehicles will not be given specific physical descriptions except on few occasions. You'll need to use your imagination.
Also, if there are any questions on the stats, just ask. I'm not going to give exact specifications for "low," "medium," "high," etc.) Edited by Trinity-Dragon, Jan 9 2013, 06:59 AM.
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| Can you let go? Can you lose yourself? Mr. No Name? Mr. Nothing? Mr. Nobody? Mr. No One? | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Kuro | Oct 7 2010, 01:29 AM Post #2 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Administrator
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Basic Info: Name: Janice Sommers (nickname Kat) Age: 21 Gender: Female (Race: Only Human) Description: Physical: lithe build, 5'6", waist length hair, black, straight, gray eyes, scar on the back of her right hand from a knife wound Personality: quiet, but cheerful. Other: Equipment: PIL(X2), SnkR, Third-Eye Items: Pentacle ring, triquetra necklace from her parents |
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"When you surf with sharks you may not get bitten... but don't act like it was an unforeseen tragedy when you do." Interpretation may be the father of all beliefs, but Assumption is the mother of all fuckups. I should know, I'm a prime example... "In life we get to pick our poisons, may as well pick the fun one." "The mechanic of the sequence; the power to progress, We have no time to waste; no time to relax, The passion of beginning; it's the pleasure of the end, It's watching things we initiate to a state we never meant." ~chorus from Mechanic of the Sequence by Neuroticfish. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Zypher | Oct 7 2010, 04:16 AM Post #3 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Lintea's overpowered angel
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Basic Info: Name: Samuel Benson Age: 23 Gender: Male Description: Physical: normal height for his age, fit build, has short curly black hair, light green eyes, and no visible scars Personality: He's a bit cold, specially in tight situations, but Other: Equipment: has plasma shotgun, hybrid rifle 3 and third eye magnum. Items: carries a silver cross as a memento (no, he's not religious) |
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---------------------------------------------- end of the serious part, the cool part is right above the line stop reading this, it's pointless, there's nothing interesting 
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| CoyoteWildfire | Oct 7 2010, 04:37 PM Post #4 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
RPer
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Basic Info: Name: Bell, "The Coyote" Age: 222. Gender: Male. (Race: Only Human) Description: Physical: athletic/slightly muscular but small build, Five-foot-five, mid-back long black hair ponied at the base of his head, white eyes (no irises) Personality: Bipolar, Schizo, Multiple Personality Disorder Other: Equipment: Hybrid Rifle 3, Plasma Shotgun, Third Eye Items: An ankle length, hooded cloak, clasped closed by an onyx inlaid white gold brooch. Edited by CoyoteWildfire, Oct 20 2011, 07:31 PM.
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...tsuyoke dewa iki, yowake dewa shinuka... demo... naze? Yowai ga fuka ka? Mada sore ga shizen no genjitsu... dakara... ore ga tsuyoku ni naru, kitto... soshite kono sekai ni wa, ore no kunou ga shiru! | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Rosenweiss | Oct 7 2010, 11:28 PM Post #5 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Average poster
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Basic Info: Name: Rosen "Rose" Engel Age: 25 Gender: Female (Race: Only Human) Description: Physical: Muscular, 5'10", hair mid-length in ponytail (reddish-brown), dark green eyes, freckles, several small and unimportant scars Personality: Talkative, confident, generally at peace Other: Equipment: Shotgun (Deadly), PILx2, PIHGx2 Items: Small journal and pen, hemp bracelet made by her little brother |
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| Dendyn | Oct 7 2010, 11:59 PM Post #6 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
The pen of Ice
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Basic Info: Name: Sora "Soulless" Kiles Age: 15 years Gender: Male. (Race: Only Human) Description: Physical: Long, red hair. Black eyes, with big eye shadows. He has a standard body (1.65 meters tall), and slim. Personality: As the nickname implies, he's a soulless character. No pity, no remorse, no second chance. The perfect soldier. Other: Equipment: DSG-2,HR-3, and a EHG x2 Items: A combat knife and a family photo. Edited by Dendyn, Oct 8 2010, 12:16 AM.
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| Trinity-Dragon | Oct 8 2010, 02:02 AM Post #7 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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The Hat and Crown
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Soulless, Rose, The Coyote, Samuel, and Kat. Some called them the suicide squad, others labeled them insane. Whatever they were, all feared their name. Death Squadron. After assembling their equipment and placing it into a drop container, they each entered their own pods. In a moment, they were falling into the atmosphere of the rebelious planet. Each equiped with full-body armor. Thick armor, yet considerably light. All equipment was like that anymore, if they weren't minimized in size, they were made of incredibly light metal. The trip remained fairly smooth. The windowless pods held firm. Eight minuted passed, and the pods finally landed, opening like flowers. A short minute later, the large drop container landed a few feet away. "All right, Death Squadron," A man spoke on the internal intercoms. "I am Lieutenant Darren, and I will be your ops manager for this mission. First, I would like to mention that your suits have been modified since last time you used them. You can now zoom with a small button above your vizor. Also, extra holsters have been added to your suits. You should be able to carry all of your weapons and equipment at one time." Darren paused a moment. "Now, then, go ahead and open the drop container. Everything you need will be in there." A large hand-shaped scanner sat on the side of the box. (Just post with your reactions to the trip. Any one person can open the box.) Edited by Trinity-Dragon, Apr 23 2012, 08:13 PM.
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| Can you let go? Can you lose yourself? Mr. No Name? Mr. Nothing? Mr. Nobody? Mr. No One? | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Zypher | Oct 8 2010, 04:05 AM Post #8 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Lintea's overpowered angel
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Samuel looked around checking their surroundings while testing the button Darren just mentioned. this will be helpful He though as he slowly approached the container putting his hand on the scanner |
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---------------------------------------------- end of the serious part, the cool part is right above the line stop reading this, it's pointless, there's nothing interesting
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| CoyoteWildfire | Oct 8 2010, 03:12 PM Post #9 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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RPer
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Bell's pod whirred open, each petal of this wilting flower bowing to the stench of rebellion reeking from this planet's very core. But a delicate little stamen such as himself should not be so tainted by such air. He stepped down in disgust, nose turned up. The soil crept up his boots as he walked, spreading this vile infection. Samuel had opened the supplies pod. Half of Bell hoped there might be some galoshes or at least a moist towelette to keep this infesting rot off the nice sheen to his polished exosuit. "Guns." A sinister crack split Bell's face in what one could hardly call a smile. His profound disgust left him almost as quickly as it had rose in his throat. Weaponry was a tantalizing little aspect of his job, and he could almost feel the plasma rounds perforating the flesh of his mark at the thought. The taste of death danced on the top of his tongue like a vague memory wafting in the back of your mind. Bell leaned into the pod, almost waist-deep, scooping together as many weapons as he could muster in his short arm-span. Puzzled, he looked to himself and then to the weaponry in his arms, like a young child trying to push the square peg into the round hole. "Huh... Darren said we should be able to carry all our weapons... but... I only have three holsters." Edited by CoyoteWildfire, Oct 29 2010, 04:04 AM.
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...tsuyoke dewa iki, yowake dewa shinuka... demo... naze? Yowai ga fuka ka? Mada sore ga shizen no genjitsu... dakara... ore ga tsuyoku ni naru, kitto... soshite kono sekai ni wa, ore no kunou ga shiru! | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Rosenweiss | Oct 8 2010, 03:23 PM Post #10 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Average poster
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"Thanks, Darren." Rose stretched and jumped up and down a few times, adjusting to the atmosphere. She stretched out her arms, admiring her armor, as she always did - its sleek fit and surprising strength. She smiled. Niiiice. She didn't rush to equip as Samuel opened the box, preferring as usual to wait for the others to sort it all out first. Instead, she critically examined the landscape. Her searching eyes easily began to memorize the hills, valleys, places of cover and vulnerable areas. Although she didn't fear the mission, there was always that tingle of anticipation. It was good to be prepared. The trip had been smooth and eventless, and she'd had Kat to talk to through the com. Or, at least, talk at. Admittedly, Kat did most of the listening. Talking about the mission helped her isolate the job from the human factor - something that was harder for her than for most of the others. Once on the ground, she tuned her mind to focus on the job, just as she'd been trained to do. But for her, the ride over was the crucial time in which human life and experience were quantified and calculated and categorized. She cracked her neck to each side, fully ready for duty, and sauntered over to the box to pick up her weapons. |
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| Dendyn | Oct 9 2010, 01:28 AM Post #11 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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The pen of Ice
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Sora looked at the weapons on the box. He didn't even flinch at the sight of them. He was young, yes, but not naive. He had seen the world at it's worst and had fought on it too. This was only another mission and another killing spree. He didn't care about the other soldiers. He grabbed the Deadly, a little too big for him and couple of Deadly Jr. He would kill them if they were a nuisance. Edited by Dendyn, Oct 9 2010, 01:32 AM.
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| Kuro | Oct 12 2010, 10:08 PM Post #12 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Administrator
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Kat simply picked up her guns and strapped them on after checking them, before going over the mission notes again. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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"When you surf with sharks you may not get bitten... but don't act like it was an unforeseen tragedy when you do." Interpretation may be the father of all beliefs, but Assumption is the mother of all fuckups. I should know, I'm a prime example... "In life we get to pick our poisons, may as well pick the fun one." "The mechanic of the sequence; the power to progress, We have no time to waste; no time to relax, The passion of beginning; it's the pleasure of the end, It's watching things we initiate to a state we never meant." ~chorus from Mechanic of the Sequence by Neuroticfish. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Trinity-Dragon | Oct 12 2010, 11:26 PM Post #13 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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The Hat and Crown
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When Samuel placed his hand on the container, the sides opened up, revealing all of the weapons Death Squadron chose previously. In addition, there were explosives, stim-packs, and good portion of food. "Sir," Darren replied to Coyote, "all of your weapons. Not the entire squad's. You chose them earlier, did you not?" When Darren finished, Kat snatched one her weapons for Coyote's pile and so did Sora. Coyote was left with his original three weapons. Rugged, rocky plains surrounded the squad. The area was mostly open, but some stalagmites stood out of the ground. The sky was dim but gave plenty light to see. On that side of the planet, evening neared. Going over the notes, Kat noticed that she and the rest would be doing a lot of traveling. So that posed the question, how would they get from place to place? The answer quickly appeared, for the drop container opened up further. A jeep-like vehicle sat in the center compartment of the box. "That, sirs, would be your ride," Darren explained. He probably could see what they are seeing. A small chart appeared on their visors: CT: Transport Vehicle (Nickname: Cart) Speed: Very High Armor: Low Size: Very Small Crew: 1 (driver), 2 (gunners), 2 (passengers) Armaments: 1 mounted BanG (rear), 1 mounted PlAR (side) Along with that, the details on the "BanG" appeared: BanG: Minigun Range: Medium Rate of Fire: Extremely high Explosion: Small Accuracy: Low Piercing: Medium Damage: High Ammo: Very High Clip: Plasma Case Round: Plasma Darren went on, "The Cart can carry the majority of your equipment for you. There are compartments below the mounted BanG." Darren chuckled lightly. "In addition to being your ride, the Cart will act as your base of operations and your away-from-home home. In other words, you get to sleep in it. Anyways, you should all know how to drive and use the weapons on it, so take whatever seats you want. It's time you got moving." |
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| Can you let go? Can you lose yourself? Mr. No Name? Mr. Nothing? Mr. Nobody? Mr. No One? | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Kuro | Oct 12 2010, 11:47 PM Post #14 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Administrator
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"Shotgun." Kat called as she jumped into the front passenger seat. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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"When you surf with sharks you may not get bitten... but don't act like it was an unforeseen tragedy when you do." Interpretation may be the father of all beliefs, but Assumption is the mother of all fuckups. I should know, I'm a prime example... "In life we get to pick our poisons, may as well pick the fun one." "The mechanic of the sequence; the power to progress, We have no time to waste; no time to relax, The passion of beginning; it's the pleasure of the end, It's watching things we initiate to a state we never meant." ~chorus from Mechanic of the Sequence by Neuroticfish. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Dendyn | Oct 12 2010, 11:51 PM Post #15 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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The pen of Ice
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Sora was amazed by the level of equipment they were given. "This rebellion should have never appeared... Let's make them pay" He said as he loaded his Deadly and hopped on the Jeep. "Shotgun on the minigun" He said as he looked at it. |
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| Zypher | Oct 13 2010, 02:47 AM Post #16 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Lintea's overpowered angel
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Samuel picked his weapons and without saying anything he walked to get the other gunner seat I'm not driving this, it'll risk us all if I touch the steering wheel He said as he carefully left the weapons in the slot Darren just mentioned, he then took his time to examine his surrounding while he waited for the others to get into the Cart/Base/Jeep whatever | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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---------------------------------------------- end of the serious part, the cool part is right above the line stop reading this, it's pointless, there's nothing interesting
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| CoyoteWildfire | Oct 14 2010, 01:57 AM Post #17 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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RPer
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A little piece of Bell's heart left, as one... two... most of the bundle of joy in his arms was craftily demoned away. He, like any normal person, would be forced to play nice in the proverbial sandbox. Three measly weapons on this big planet? Idiots... Bell's neck craned, splitting the frustration between the tense muscles he was stretching and the vertebrae popping in sick succession. The magnum fit snugly at his hip, a click lending to the mounting mechanism's fastening. A drab strap held the rifle loose about his back--his shotgun would be the standby for this mission. The spattering spray of shot was fitting of the whimsical, indecisive, unstable person wielding it. His fingers danced about the trigger, tapping like the butterflies fluttering about his heart. This rebellion was an itch, a wound, a festering boil that needed to be scratched. The thought gave him a jolt. Adrenaline felt so good. It had been so pent up and now like bubble, was rising to the surface, wishing to boil to the top and release. Yes... release. That is what Bell sought. Release from this refuse, this repulsive planet stewing in its own asinine attitude. He ground what was left of his teeth, knowing that he could not find rest until the rebellion had been quelled, thus quelling the aching, burning, passionate desire rippling like phoenix's fire through his veins. "That, sirs, would be your ride." Bell knew the voice. Always droned on, like a nagging woman harassing her husband to take out the garbage. When would he finally taste his desires? When would there be restitution for this compelling desire thrust upon him by the brash stubbornness on Perophila? It was their fault, after all, and how dare they stir up his desires this way; toying with him like an unwilling church girl only in what would leave little to the imagination. He licked his lips, but more rattling split his fantasy. "It's time you got moving." An exhale brought a thin film of water droplets on the inside of his visor, laced with the poison of his frustration. "Gun." His eyes grew wide as kiwis. "Shotgun on the minigun." Sora's voice tore through his ears almost as wildly as it did his paper heart. "G...gun..." Bell sunk in sullen disappointment. "Guess I'll drive." His leg twitched away at his lost love, his summer girl that left him before he could cheat on her. Though this new prospect could prove interesting, knuckles white at the wheel. Edited by CoyoteWildfire, Oct 29 2010, 04:11 AM.
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...tsuyoke dewa iki, yowake dewa shinuka... demo... naze? Yowai ga fuka ka? Mada sore ga shizen no genjitsu... dakara... ore ga tsuyoku ni naru, kitto... soshite kono sekai ni wa, ore no kunou ga shiru! | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Rosenweiss | Oct 14 2010, 03:19 AM Post #18 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Average poster
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Rose shook her head. She'd seen that wild look on Bell's face and those ash-white knuckles one too many times. "I don't think so," she said firmly, her hand gripping the wheel. She stood to the left of the vehicle, and the look on her face was only slightly amused. "Scoot over - I think it's better if I drive." Her eyes took in Bell's face, and bloodlust was written all over it. It was obvious he was contemplating the coming slaughter. If you asked her, he enjoyed this entirely too much - it should have ceased to be anything but duty a long time ago. She swallowed a grimace. She had expertly hung her weapons on her muscular frame, each one sliding perfectly into its holster after she spun it once in one of her large hands. The weapons themselves were beautiful, and their stunning craftsmanship was one the things that made this life of duty exciting. She loved their lines, their sleek power, and their heft at her waist. This rebellion, though... There was always so little information. She was trained expertly for battle, and she could follow orders as well as the next man, but there was a part of her that yearned for the details. Who? Why? How? These were questions she'd been trained not to ask. But training can never completely penetrate the mind. Nonetheless, she would by no means be a liability to the success of the mission - and she wouldn't let Bell's reckless driving be either. She put her hand on his shoulder and smiled a little sarcastically. "We need everyone alive for this mission, you know." |
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| Trinity-Dragon | Oct 14 2010, 04:34 PM Post #19 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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The Hat and Crown
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"The commander would like you to get your job done sooner, rather than later," Darren stated. "It would be to our advantage, if you concentrated on your job." He seemed to be more talking to Bell and Rose than anyone else. "Either way, your first recon is nearby. A large village sits in a valley to the north. Go there," He stated firmly. A screen flipped on in between the driver and passenger seat. A map showed, revealing the surroundings plainly. Mountains hung to the south. Plains in every other direction. Far to the north, a large circular valley lied. Three positions around the valley lit up. Darren went on, "At the edge of the valley are a few good places to hide-out. Once you get there, you can split up or stick together. Whatever it may be, I suggest only these three spots." Edited by Trinity-Dragon, Mar 29 2012, 02:31 AM.
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| Can you let go? Can you lose yourself? Mr. No Name? Mr. Nothing? Mr. Nobody? Mr. No One? | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Dendyn | Oct 15 2010, 01:04 AM Post #20 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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The pen of Ice
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Sora looked at with deep and emotionless eyes. Considering the fact he was a 15 year old boy, for he to be a soldier... He looked at the screen and paid attention to it's surroundings. The green screen was bright and shiny but if held a purpose: To reveal him how to massacre a foe. His eyes changed from black to red, and his facial expression changed too. "Kill...." He said as he readied the minigun for any opponent to come. |
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| Kuro | Oct 15 2010, 01:09 AM Post #21 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Administrator
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"I'll run forward recon. I've probably had the most stealth training." Kat said as a blue line to a high point in the town popped up. "Here's my planned route." | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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"When you surf with sharks you may not get bitten... but don't act like it was an unforeseen tragedy when you do." Interpretation may be the father of all beliefs, but Assumption is the mother of all fuckups. I should know, I'm a prime example... "In life we get to pick our poisons, may as well pick the fun one." "The mechanic of the sequence; the power to progress, We have no time to waste; no time to relax, The passion of beginning; it's the pleasure of the end, It's watching things we initiate to a state we never meant." ~chorus from Mechanic of the Sequence by Neuroticfish. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Zypher | Oct 15 2010, 03:39 AM Post #22 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Lintea's overpowered angel
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Samuel looked at Sora somewhat scared "I hope your eyes don't fail and lead you to kill someone of us by mistake" He said looking at him. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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---------------------------------------------- end of the serious part, the cool part is right above the line stop reading this, it's pointless, there's nothing interesting
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| Rosenweiss | Oct 16 2010, 07:30 PM Post #23 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Average poster
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Rose addressed Sora, throwing her voice over her shoulder. "Gear down, big shifter. It's a recon mission, not the invasion of Normandy." Her tone was lighthearted, but her eyes showed concern. The bloodthirsty attitudes here are getting a little out of control. Rose revved the engine. Having replaced Bell as the driver, she felt much more comfortable - even if his eyes were now creepily boring a hole into her skull. She shook off the annoyance, nonconducive to the mission, and studied the three points of cover. "I think we should stick together," she said. "Since we're traveling as a unit, any time spent on foot between the sites would be wasteful." She phrased it as a suggestion. Then, glancing at each of the other members to make sure they were settled, she gunned the engine and took off to the north toward the valley. She loved to drive, but she missed the feeling of wind tearing through her ponytailed hair and cooling her neck. Beads of anticipatory sweat were starting to build under her armor, and she knew that soon she would be very warm. She exhaled and flexed her gloved hands on the wheel, relishing the control. She smiled to herself. Such is life. |
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| CoyoteWildfire | Oct 17 2010, 04:00 PM Post #24 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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RPer
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In a mere moment, Bell found himself reduced to little more than a spectator, resigned to nothingness during the ride. Beads of moisture and heat prickled his flesh. His weapon of choice sat across his lap. He stroked it, shivering at this beautiful little gem's dormant purpose--more purpose than he had currently. Aggravation grew from the thought. He felt the fire, and he knew his blood was boiling. What little was left of his blood, that is. But he kept an even keel, for now, deciding that Rose's words did have a little merit, even for the cow that she was. Most of his blood had been replaced by a synthetic plasma many years back. It was the product of experiments to make an ordinary human a super-soldier. Miserable wretches. The project failed, bearing its painful mark on the bodies of those who had undergone the procedure. Skin pale as a ghost, and eyes with no color, even albinos looked far more colorful than he. What was meant to make people better, turned them around to cattle. Redbloods were so afraid of anything different, and the discrimination and hate crimes ensued. "Frozener" they called whitebloods such as himself, their blood maintaining a cooler temperature than its red counterpart. Merely eight degrees' difference was enough to call them "cold-blooded", like some murderer, and to keep Frozeners at anything less than than arm's length would caste you to poverty, or worse, slave. There was no effort made to differentiate between him and other Frozeners either. Bell had died. Twice, in fact. Or should have died, but the procedure saved his life. The white blood came with one added benefit despite its catastrophic failure: healing took place at an insane rate. A cut would seal up in front of your eyes, synthetics replacing skin almost instantaneously. A gaping wound would take longer, of course, but what would take weeks for an ordinary person to heal would take but hours. In something of an attempt to regain some normalcy, he dyed his snow-white hair black. Sometimes, if he had to, he wore colored contacts to restore iris color. But the white skin and lack of red blood was often hard to conceal, and if he were found out, he could never retain his identity. Nor did he. So he was killed a second time. Edited by CoyoteWildfire, Oct 29 2010, 04:22 AM.
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...tsuyoke dewa iki, yowake dewa shinuka... demo... naze? Yowai ga fuka ka? Mada sore ga shizen no genjitsu... dakara... ore ga tsuyoku ni naru, kitto... soshite kono sekai ni wa, ore no kunou ga shiru! | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Trinity-Dragon | Oct 18 2010, 04:21 PM Post #25 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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The Hat and Crown
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Death squadron traveled relatively peasably. The trip lasted only twenty minutes. Speeding across mostly flat terrain at 70 miles per hour helped in that area. UDF (United Dimensions Federation) technology was always ahead of everyone elses'. Not like there were many other nations left anyways. As they drew near to the ravine, they could see the town below. To Kat's dismay, the only building with decent height was at the center of town. Using the new zoom feature on their helmets, Death squad could see a large crowd surrounding that building. The building seemed to be only a platform. On top of that platform, a single human moved around speaking to the crowd. Nonetheless, Death squad could not sit around in their vehicle and watch. They need to move to one of the areas of cover. Rose had already driven close to one. It was a large rock face with several smaller shards of rock. Plenty cover for five people and their vehicle. Once they vacated that spot and hid the vehicle behind the larger rock, they could move around fairly easily. "All right, sirs," Darren spoke up after a long period of silence. "Take whatever spots you want, but, as I said before, I suggest those one of those three areas. Before you go killing 'stuff,' you need to determine what that man is talking about. This might be a friendly village for all we know... I doubt it, but better safe than sorry." Several yards (meters) away lay the second hiding spot. Another rock face with much the same cover as the current one. Opposite of the their current location was a cliff. One could lie down at the edge and spy upon the village. The rest of the edge was empty giving little, if any, cover. (Sorry for taking slight control of your characters. But, I want to try to avoid worthless/boring filler posts, when possible. I may do this again in the future, but, generally, I will avoid this.) |
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| Can you let go? Can you lose yourself? Mr. No Name? Mr. Nothing? Mr. Nobody? Mr. No One? | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Kuro | Oct 18 2010, 09:50 PM Post #26 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Administrator
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Kat moved to the cliff and checked her kit to see if she had a long range mic as she zoomed in to check the crowd for rebelion logos. | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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"When you surf with sharks you may not get bitten... but don't act like it was an unforeseen tragedy when you do." Interpretation may be the father of all beliefs, but Assumption is the mother of all fuckups. I should know, I'm a prime example... "In life we get to pick our poisons, may as well pick the fun one." "The mechanic of the sequence; the power to progress, We have no time to waste; no time to relax, The passion of beginning; it's the pleasure of the end, It's watching things we initiate to a state we never meant." ~chorus from Mechanic of the Sequence by Neuroticfish. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Dendyn | Oct 19 2010, 01:35 AM Post #27 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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The pen of Ice
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Sora looked at the second hiding spot. He grabbed his shotgun and ran as quietly as he could to the rock. "Listen and judge" He repeated himself as he reached the rock. The shotgun was powered up, the killing urge at MAX... Only needed the order and the target. |
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| CoyoteWildfire | Oct 21 2010, 10:26 PM Post #28 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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RPer
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Hiding... Covert operations, and pussyfooting around like some coward shaking at just the spit of the opposition. What could it do, except sit there, that blob of yellow sputum, but Bell's orders forced him to lie in wait. His cover was a jagged rock face, pointed upward as if it'd been split from a cliff and plummeted to the sandy soil. It lay there contently, offering meager cover, but enough to conceal him from the crowd if squatting. Bell collapsed onto his bottom, back to the rock. He could feel the tension rise--he couldn't just sit and wait, but he had to. Bell's fingers clenched then released, clenched then released, as if squeezing the life out of some imaginary stress reliever. His blood pressure rose, and his heart palpitated at the nervous energy prickling his skin. He knew he needed to calm down, but that smell... that smell was getting to him. The smell of corruption. It was that very same smell he smelled back then... That unchecked, unrestrained spite breeding promiscuously, eternally in the hearts of those too weak to realize that they'd become slaves. Slaves, serfs, nobodies given willfully to the shackles of a single-minded hate. Such was this rebellion, just like back then. Just like when he had been ostracized, when he had been captured, beaten and tortured. The air was rank with it, and if Bell weren't so intent on ridding himself of it, he would have vomited. Slaves. Slaves are lesser people. Slaves are nothing. Slaves are not people. Slaves are expendable. Slaves... Crunch. Bell's face turned sharply, a shocking punch twisting his head by impact to his jaw. The blow was startling enough, but more upsetting than that was the hand that had struck him. It was his. For a brief moment, a pinhole ray of sensibility pierced the growing bubble of his thirst of vengeance, and it burst into an ephemeral waft of fleeting dreams and air. The things he had been through, the people he had hated so fervently for his mistreatment... He found himself steadily becoming, and what was left of his true self knew that. Bell took his hand to his chest, gripping it for a moment. It all came back. The pain. The hurt. The emotional scarring. A little girl cries in the street, one little shred of solace in hand, her dirty, tattered bear. "Momma!" She cries, needing someone to hold her. She needs those arms around her now. The sound of weeping and wailing drones mournfully through the alleys, the only place the flickering lights of burning fire does not touch. A boy props himself up against a wall, desperately trying to make sense of the image before him. A young mother collapses in the road way. "Get up bitch!" A steel-toed boot cracks her in the ribs. She coughs, gasping for air between the wind knocked from her lungs and the blood she's spitting. "I said UP!" A brutal hand rips her to her feet by her hair. She sobs, revealing the treasure she is carrying. The baby cries, disturbed by the noise polluting its ears and the pain in its mothers voice. "Where IS IT?" A fist lands firmly across her jaw, sending her to the ground again. The baby falls from her arms and is silent. She looks up to him, her head cocked to the side, unable to stay straight now. Blood drips from her lips almost as freely as the tears from her blackened eyes. "I... don't know..." Her voice could barely squeak. "Wrong answer." A bullet robs her of what was left of her humanity. A little girl cries in the street, and no one hears her. Her solace is robbed that night, and her voice will never again reach her mother's ears. Many children lose their mothers this night, lose their fathers. Many are beaten. Many are left abandoned, emaciated in a couple weeks. The corpses of the dead are fed on in the streets until there's nothing left and most children starve in months that follow. Bell's father answered the door. He was killed. Bell's mother protected her children. She was killed. Bell's younger brother first. Beaten, tortured. Bell's sister. Abused, raped. Bell was captured, interrogated, beaten, starved, beaten again, abused. Your own seat was your bathroom. If you were lucky to have one more than a brick wall when they tortured you for information. Rebellion. Rebellion. Rebellion. This is what happens. The innocent suffer and are forced to pay the ultimate price. So cruel... Liquid streamed from Bell's one biological eye down the lines of his face, like a river following the paths its banks led it. He felt it all again. He watched it happen with his own eyes. His younger siblings didn't deserve it, and for him to survive them this way to remember the whole thing was near unbearable. 200 years of perpetual torment. He rose to his feet, legs moving more automatically than anything. His cover was no longer needed in his mind. Only one hand gripped his shotgun, cocking the pump sharply in a single motion. The crowd didn't notice him, oblivious to the intruder's presence. He joined their blithe little gathering and transmitted every word spoken across the coms. BAM! The crowd jumped and reeled in fear. Bell's barrel exuded waves of steam from the hot plasma just ejected skyward from it. His voice cracked, both over the coms and to their faces. He was crying. "Tell me. Which government do you serve?" Their eyes bore into him in astonishment. Edited by CoyoteWildfire, Dec 2 2010, 05:52 AM.
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...tsuyoke dewa iki, yowake dewa shinuka... demo... naze? Yowai ga fuka ka? Mada sore ga shizen no genjitsu... dakara... ore ga tsuyoku ni naru, kitto... soshite kono sekai ni wa, ore no kunou ga shiru! | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Trinity-Dragon | Oct 21 2010, 11:31 PM Post #29 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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The Hat and Crown
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Bell's shotgun shot out a large slop of plasma. The sound of the shotgun ringed through the entire valley. The other four upon hearing the shot automatically knew who fired. Bell... again. This has happened before. Unfortunately, Bell's flashback proved to be an issue, once he shot. For, the entire crowd heard the shot. Many in the crowd turned to face Bell. Their faces grew scared quickly. In only a few seconds, the entire crowd was thrown into utter panic. Seems they knew the face of Death. Death Squadron, that is. Most of the crowd ran into their houses, but a few went up the sides of the hills and up the cliff where Kat lay. No enemy soldiers stepped up to fight Bell, and they didn't seem to notice the others. Kat, with her bird's eye view, saw the man on the platform jump off by the back end. He had a walkie-talkie in his right-hand, and he was using it. If Kat decided, she could get a perfect sniper shot on him now. But... would that be the right choice? Despite all of this, Darren remained strangely silent. (As for Rose and Faust, you two can post what they were doing before Bell fired, then what their reaction was to his shot... and so on. Untill these two have posted, no one else may post.) Edited by Trinity-Dragon, Oct 22 2010, 02:25 PM.
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| Can you let go? Can you lose yourself? Mr. No Name? Mr. Nothing? Mr. Nobody? Mr. No One? | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Zypher | Oct 22 2010, 01:16 AM Post #30 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Lintea's overpowered angel
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Samuel looked at Bell as she shot the gun What the... this might be not good He thought as he looked for a place to hide from the crowd he noticed then that the crowd hid themselves "Well, at least that solves one problem I think" He said as he saw Bell | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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---------------------------------------------- end of the serious part, the cool part is right above the line stop reading this, it's pointless, there's nothing interesting
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