RPG
Introduction
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Game Masters: blackwolt | wolf1992
RP Status: Active | Completed | Dead
Accepting New Characters: Yes | No
Welcome to the year 2981! The Earth has become a wasteland, with many areas either completely barren or overgrown, due to a power struggle between the once great countries. At the peak of the struggle, nuclear warfare broke out, and only few humans managed to seek shelter. Billions of lives perished as radiation spread across the globe, and those who survived the taint became sick and mutilated.
Since that fateful and horrible event, 500 years have passed by. Today, the human race has once again risen from the dust! To accommodate the human societies in the event of nuclear war, the domes were built in the late 23rd century. Essentially a moving city encapsulated in a protective force field, the dome was, and is still, the pinnacle of human technology, allowing a city and a small amount of protected landmass to be self-sustaining with food, water and organic materials.
However, beneath the wasted soil of the Earth is hidden a tremendous wealth of minerals and metal, some covered with dust from the nuclear war, some covered by thick vegetation. To gain access to these minerals, the people of the domes have built small, stationary towns with the only purpose of harvesting a specific re-source. Protected by a stationary force field as well as the mobile domes, these small ‘Harvest Towns’ supply the people of the cities with the resources needed for further advancements in technology and society.
To counter the human nature of fighting for survival, the leaders of the most prominent domes have decided upon a set of rules of engagement, manifesting the inevitable resource war as a sport rather than a war. ‘The League of Origins’, as the sport is called, forces all domes to participate in what could best be described as a sports tournament: The winner gets the best harvest towns, while the losers are left with poor towns or nothing at all.
YOU are here to fight in this sport on behalf of the proud city Aequitas of the M3 dome! Your heritage, your line of family or your current wealth is of no concern to us: We are nothing but a small, unnoticeable dome among giants, but we MUST prevail in this fight to secure ourselves a prosperous and wealthy future!
Report to your team leader in the barracks! And may your commitment to our cause secure a glorious outcome in the battles to follow!
Since that fateful and horrible event, 500 years have passed by. Today, the human race has once again risen from the dust! To accommodate the human societies in the event of nuclear war, the domes were built in the late 23rd century. Essentially a moving city encapsulated in a protective force field, the dome was, and is still, the pinnacle of human technology, allowing a city and a small amount of protected landmass to be self-sustaining with food, water and organic materials.
However, beneath the wasted soil of the Earth is hidden a tremendous wealth of minerals and metal, some covered with dust from the nuclear war, some covered by thick vegetation. To gain access to these minerals, the people of the domes have built small, stationary towns with the only purpose of harvesting a specific re-source. Protected by a stationary force field as well as the mobile domes, these small ‘Harvest Towns’ supply the people of the cities with the resources needed for further advancements in technology and society.
To counter the human nature of fighting for survival, the leaders of the most prominent domes have decided upon a set of rules of engagement, manifesting the inevitable resource war as a sport rather than a war. ‘The League of Origins’, as the sport is called, forces all domes to participate in what could best be described as a sports tournament: The winner gets the best harvest towns, while the losers are left with poor towns or nothing at all.
YOU are here to fight in this sport on behalf of the proud city Aequitas of the M3 dome! Your heritage, your line of family or your current wealth is of no concern to us: We are nothing but a small, unnoticeable dome among giants, but we MUST prevail in this fight to secure ourselves a prosperous and wealthy future!
Report to your team leader in the barracks! And may your commitment to our cause secure a glorious outcome in the battles to follow!
The Cold War, mankind’s first nuclear conflict, saw the end as the 21st century began. For enemies were now reunited the Earth with politics, and the global trade began to flow again. The peace was only temporary, however, as one economic crisis after another struck the global markets, paralyzing several countries and shaking the world order to its core.
Nearing the end of the 21st century, the countries in the European Union merged into one great nation to counter the growing fear of a European market collapse. The newly formed country, still using the name “European Union” as a designation, ended up as a copy of the United States of America, with each former country acting as a state instead of an individual country. The newly founded European Union quickly regained a financial balance by imposing laws and restrictions on the European market. The securing of oil reserves in the Atlantic Ocean as well as uranium ores in the mainland also supported the EU financially, making a rebuilding of the European military infrastructure possible. As the 23rd century announced its arrival, the European Union had gained possession of enough nuclear warheads to counter the USA as well as the rising Asian threat.
The United States of America merged Canada into its ranks at the beginning of the 22nd century after several economic troubles with the Asian markets. With Canada as the 51st state of the USA resources and work was divided between the states, eliminating the need of resources and labor from the outside. USA, like its European counterpart, practically created a self-securing society. However, the world peace seemed more and more fragile, and while the Cold War had seen a lot of disarmament of nuclear warheads, the rising tensions forced the USA to rearm itself as the Asian countries united.
The Eastern Asian countries, India and Russia as well as some of the former USSR countries united in 2098 un-der the name ‘Asian Coalition’, suddenly posing a great threat to the military and economic situation of Earth. It did not take long before nuclear warheads were present all over the Coalition’s territory, and the division of the Earth into three major “countries” was now present. At the end of the 23rd century the Asian Coalition had even seized the countries of Africa, thereby threatening the European Union.
As every human could have predicted, the tension between the three great nations could only grow. Warheads were aimed in all directions, and while Greenpeace and other world organizations tried to bring the chaos to an end, the world leaders did not listen. It was simply a matter of national pride and security, and no country would be the first to disarm its weapons, making itself vulnerable without any leverage.
Seeing the world mentally torn apart, scientists around the world began the construction of cities protected by a force field. ‘The Domes’, as they would later be known as due to their big dome-like force shields around the cities, were to be the shelter of humanity in the event of a nuclear war. However, only a small amount of the population could live in the domes. After all, cities on the scale of London and New York would not fit into a dome with the technology that mankind had evolved.
Nearing the end of the 21st century, the countries in the European Union merged into one great nation to counter the growing fear of a European market collapse. The newly formed country, still using the name “European Union” as a designation, ended up as a copy of the United States of America, with each former country acting as a state instead of an individual country. The newly founded European Union quickly regained a financial balance by imposing laws and restrictions on the European market. The securing of oil reserves in the Atlantic Ocean as well as uranium ores in the mainland also supported the EU financially, making a rebuilding of the European military infrastructure possible. As the 23rd century announced its arrival, the European Union had gained possession of enough nuclear warheads to counter the USA as well as the rising Asian threat.
The United States of America merged Canada into its ranks at the beginning of the 22nd century after several economic troubles with the Asian markets. With Canada as the 51st state of the USA resources and work was divided between the states, eliminating the need of resources and labor from the outside. USA, like its European counterpart, practically created a self-securing society. However, the world peace seemed more and more fragile, and while the Cold War had seen a lot of disarmament of nuclear warheads, the rising tensions forced the USA to rearm itself as the Asian countries united.
The Eastern Asian countries, India and Russia as well as some of the former USSR countries united in 2098 un-der the name ‘Asian Coalition’, suddenly posing a great threat to the military and economic situation of Earth. It did not take long before nuclear warheads were present all over the Coalition’s territory, and the division of the Earth into three major “countries” was now present. At the end of the 23rd century the Asian Coalition had even seized the countries of Africa, thereby threatening the European Union.
As every human could have predicted, the tension between the three great nations could only grow. Warheads were aimed in all directions, and while Greenpeace and other world organizations tried to bring the chaos to an end, the world leaders did not listen. It was simply a matter of national pride and security, and no country would be the first to disarm its weapons, making itself vulnerable without any leverage.
Seeing the world mentally torn apart, scientists around the world began the construction of cities protected by a force field. ‘The Domes’, as they would later be known as due to their big dome-like force shields around the cities, were to be the shelter of humanity in the event of a nuclear war. However, only a small amount of the population could live in the domes. After all, cities on the scale of London and New York would not fit into a dome with the technology that mankind had evolved.
Nobody really wants to remember what happened at the start of the 24th century. The military crackdown that had been ruling the countries was beginning to falter. What started the war was probably nothing but a misunderstanding, but as soon as the missiles were in the air, the fate of humanity and the Earth was sealed. With the prospect of over 10 billion people dying from nuclear war, the domes were soon filled. The domes quickly sealed the force field with a retractable cape, hindering any view of the outside world as the missiles struck.
Only those left upon the surface of the Earth would be able to describe what happened. The last remains of humanity hidden in shelters could only guess at what had happened during the last moments of the prosper-ous Earth: The nuclear war had eradicated life as it was known!
Only those left upon the surface of the Earth would be able to describe what happened. The last remains of humanity hidden in shelters could only guess at what had happened during the last moments of the prosper-ous Earth: The nuclear war had eradicated life as it was known!
The 30th century Earth is nothing more than a wasteland, as most life was eradicated during the nuclear war. While plants and animals have begun to spread across the barren Earth again from the Equator, over half of the Earth’s total area is still devoid of life, the landmasses of the continents having ended up as deserts, tundra or bare rock. Only in few areas can vegetation be found.
The oceans and gulfs are covered with ice from the poles to the Equator, the ice linking the continents together and creating a hard outer shell. While life can still be found in the oceans beneath the surface, the thick cover of ice makes it hard to create a good fishing environment.
As most of the planet’s surface is devoid of life, resources are scarce and can only be found in the borderlands of the continents, where life is beginning to return, as well as beneath the surface of the dust covered Earth. Land suitable for farming can only be produced artificially in either the domes, mobile cities created by the humans in an attempt to survive, or at the harvest towns, the small stationary towns created with the sole purpose of harvesting resources for the domes.
The harvest towns make it possible for the domes to be mobile, the resources being transferred from a harvest town to its dome when the dome is near the town. A dome is therefore not bound by the land it was built on, making the harvest towns the only reason for a dome to stay in one place. The cities within the domes usually seek out a resource that it needs to further its technological advancement. However, some cities deliberately seek out rare resources to gain from the trade between the domes.
The nuclear wars, however, failed at eradicating all life. Leftover humans unable to find room in a dome or being punished for criminality were left to the fate of dying to either the radiation or the natural predators. As the domes began to evolve themselves, making movement possible, the encounter with what was coined “The Spawn” was inevitable. The spawn is, as far as observations have shown, nothing more than mutated predators, especially carnivore animals like bears, wolves and dogs. While the domes are able to withstand nuclear harm, their force fields allow predators and humans to move into the dome. Therefore, each dome defends itself against this spawn with whatever army the dome might have.
Transportation between the different domes is done with hovering busses. These hovercrafts are the only “flying” vehicles that have been possible to create, as the radiation prohibits the use of the electronic systems required to control modern airplanes. The hovercrafts, however, are extremely vulnerable to damage and therefore rely on great speeds to reach the safety of a dome.
The following is a list of the known cities and domes (will be updated as the roleplay progresses):
The oceans and gulfs are covered with ice from the poles to the Equator, the ice linking the continents together and creating a hard outer shell. While life can still be found in the oceans beneath the surface, the thick cover of ice makes it hard to create a good fishing environment.
As most of the planet’s surface is devoid of life, resources are scarce and can only be found in the borderlands of the continents, where life is beginning to return, as well as beneath the surface of the dust covered Earth. Land suitable for farming can only be produced artificially in either the domes, mobile cities created by the humans in an attempt to survive, or at the harvest towns, the small stationary towns created with the sole purpose of harvesting resources for the domes.
The harvest towns make it possible for the domes to be mobile, the resources being transferred from a harvest town to its dome when the dome is near the town. A dome is therefore not bound by the land it was built on, making the harvest towns the only reason for a dome to stay in one place. The cities within the domes usually seek out a resource that it needs to further its technological advancement. However, some cities deliberately seek out rare resources to gain from the trade between the domes.
The nuclear wars, however, failed at eradicating all life. Leftover humans unable to find room in a dome or being punished for criminality were left to the fate of dying to either the radiation or the natural predators. As the domes began to evolve themselves, making movement possible, the encounter with what was coined “The Spawn” was inevitable. The spawn is, as far as observations have shown, nothing more than mutated predators, especially carnivore animals like bears, wolves and dogs. While the domes are able to withstand nuclear harm, their force fields allow predators and humans to move into the dome. Therefore, each dome defends itself against this spawn with whatever army the dome might have.
Transportation between the different domes is done with hovering busses. These hovercrafts are the only “flying” vehicles that have been possible to create, as the radiation prohibits the use of the electronic systems required to control modern airplanes. The hovercrafts, however, are extremely vulnerable to damage and therefore rely on great speeds to reach the safety of a dome.
The following is a list of the known cities and domes (will be updated as the roleplay progresses):
Aequitas (Latin: “Equality”) of the M3 dome
- Dome Size: Small (10 kilometer radius)
Population: ~2,500
Leadership: Democracy
Dome climate: Seacoast village
Dome speed: Slow (25-40 km/h)
Dome purpose: Militaristic City
Owned Harvest Town: None
Scientia (Latin: “Knowledge”) of the A1 dome
- Dome Size: Large (31 kilometer radius)
Population: ~32,000
Leadership: Constitutional Monarchy
Dome climate: Urbanized environment with surrounding forest
Dome speed: Very slow (10-12 km/h)
Dome purpose: University City
Owned Harvest Town: Unknown
The League of Origins, often only referred to as “the fight” or “the tournament”, is the battle for harvest towns and resources between the domes. As the battle has been made into a sport to prevent full scale war between the new human civilizations, certain rules of conduct have been agreed on:
- The participants in the League of Origins must belong to one of three predefined schools of warfare.
- Enhancements of the participants are allowed, as long as they are biological in nature; only the psychokinetic participants may carry power amplifiers. Biomechanical enhancement is not allowed.
- A battle request cannot be denied unless the defending city has not controlled any gather points for the last two weeks. This prevents a strong dome from completely annihilating a weak dome.
- Battles over the harvest towns are fought either as “Capture the Flag”, where teams must capture the opposing side’s flag and bring it back to the HQ, or “Team Deathmatch”, where the teams fight until the last man standing.
- The battle between two domes may take place either in the cities themselves, or in special arenas built throughout the continents.
While the initial thought was to make the participants of the League of Origins carry non-lethal weapons, most small domes were not able to upkeep an army with both lethal weapons for use against the spawn as well as non-lethal weapons for use in the sport. Therefore, the weapons used in the League of Origins are often lethal, meaning that the participants are running the risk of possibly being killed.
When fighting in the League of Origins however, it is expected that a surrendering enemy is restricted and removed from battle until a winner has been found. Melee oriented soldiers disarm the enemy soldiers, while ranged soldiers use paralyzing or trapping ammunition as a weapon. Taking another person’s life, even if it’s for the sake of a dome, is frowned upon because of its harmful nature against society.
As given by the agreed rules of engagement for the League of Origins battles, three schools accommodating the three basic fighting types are usually found in most domes. While some domes specialize in one area, most domes do not have the privilege of such a resource focus, therefore often accommodating all three fighting styles.
The School of Melee Combat upholds the legacy of the European and Asian medieval times. Honor and fair-ness are two keywords for the soldiers of this school, and while they divide themselves between being offensive and defensive, the soldiers are often quite united, taking on the mentality of an army.
The offensive melee soldiers are often seen equipped with medium type armor and using either swords or pole arms to attack the enemies. While they might employ the use of a shield, their main focus is to lead the charge against the enemies.
The defensive melee soldiers are on the contrary quite heavily armed, often employing the use of both shield and blunt weapon to take down the enemies and protect the ranged and psychokinetic personnel.
The School of Ranged Combat is based on the fighting throughout the 20th and 21st century, often using a very light armor in favor of mobility, aiming possibilities and tactical overview. The school formally divides into long ranged combat and close ranged combat, but this division is often quite blurry.
The soldiers using ranged combat are often required to use paralyzing, stunning or other non-lethal bullets when fighting in the League of Origins. Their role as ranged combat is still upheld, however.
The School of Psychokinesis is quite unique and therefore does not draw on some classical period of human society. While the fear of a new nuclear warfare uprising has made many humans abandon most technological research in favor of living “naturally” in the domes, one branch of technological research was reinvented as the League of Origin started: The argumentation of the human brain.
Some subjects show exceptional mental skills, often with a small amount of telekinetic power. This evolution of the human is thought to be a byproduct of the nuclear radiation, and while the natural power of an individual is not often enough to even lift a piece of paper, technological advancements in brain implants has made this possible. With a power amplifier either implanted or carried near the brain, the subject becomes capable of using this telekinetic power for either psychic communication, which enables the user to talk to people out of sight, or psychic tracking, enabling the user to track humans moving around in the proximity.
Psychokinetic users are often used in roles as tacticians, because they require no electronic connection to their soldiers to be able to give orders and receive tactical information. This also applies with the medical role in which psychokinesis also plays a huge role: The user is able to locate the problem without needing to talk with the subject; reading the mind of the injured is enough.
The offensive melee soldiers are often seen equipped with medium type armor and using either swords or pole arms to attack the enemies. While they might employ the use of a shield, their main focus is to lead the charge against the enemies.
The defensive melee soldiers are on the contrary quite heavily armed, often employing the use of both shield and blunt weapon to take down the enemies and protect the ranged and psychokinetic personnel.
The School of Ranged Combat is based on the fighting throughout the 20th and 21st century, often using a very light armor in favor of mobility, aiming possibilities and tactical overview. The school formally divides into long ranged combat and close ranged combat, but this division is often quite blurry.
The soldiers using ranged combat are often required to use paralyzing, stunning or other non-lethal bullets when fighting in the League of Origins. Their role as ranged combat is still upheld, however.
The School of Psychokinesis is quite unique and therefore does not draw on some classical period of human society. While the fear of a new nuclear warfare uprising has made many humans abandon most technological research in favor of living “naturally” in the domes, one branch of technological research was reinvented as the League of Origin started: The argumentation of the human brain.
Some subjects show exceptional mental skills, often with a small amount of telekinetic power. This evolution of the human is thought to be a byproduct of the nuclear radiation, and while the natural power of an individual is not often enough to even lift a piece of paper, technological advancements in brain implants has made this possible. With a power amplifier either implanted or carried near the brain, the subject becomes capable of using this telekinetic power for either psychic communication, which enables the user to talk to people out of sight, or psychic tracking, enabling the user to track humans moving around in the proximity.
Psychokinetic users are often used in roles as tacticians, because they require no electronic connection to their soldiers to be able to give orders and receive tactical information. This also applies with the medical role in which psychokinesis also plays a huge role: The user is able to locate the problem without needing to talk with the subject; reading the mind of the injured is enough.
The technological progression of mankind allowed the soldiers of the 21st century to be equipped better and better. Rifles and pistols were improved with new materials, but as the economies of the world markets threatened to collapse, further research into a new kind of warfare was abandoned in favor of keeping the soldiers of the 21st century. As the nuclear war was unleashed, the soldiers of the 24th century were not that different from the soldiers of the 21st century.
The melee and ranged soldiers of the 30th century uphold the traditions of the medieval times as well as the 2nd millennia by using equipment alike the soldiers of those periods. Melee soldiers are often clad in heavy armor, taking on the image of knights and medieval soldiers, while ranged soldiers tend to choose a medium armor suited for movement, aiming as well as concealment.
During the three last centuries as a united Earth, mankind managed to invent several carbon-reinforced metals and alloys. Carbon-reinforced titanium, often called “adamant” as a reference to the medieval term form a hard substance, is the core substance of weapons and armor, tolerating a lot of pressure and wear before breaking or bending. This makes the material very suited for the melee oriented warfare that is fought with conventional swords and armors.
Although energy weapons have seen some action in the 30th century, these weapons are not very widespread. The fear of a new nuclear war as well as straying away from the conventional society has hindered the advancement of energy weapons severely. Only ranged weapons tend to employ energy-based rounds with the purpose of stunning the enemy instead of the standard uranium-tipped ammunition.
The rifles and handguns fire bullets by sending them through a particle accelerator. The muzzle velocity of a standard 5mm bullet can with this technology reach around 2,500 meters per second. The bullets are stored in magazines as was the standard during the 21st and 22nd century, enabling the user to switch between several types of ammunition.
The force field technology of the domes has found another use in the shields of the soldiers. Simply superior to blocking metal with metal, the ‘force shields’ are capable of absorbing much of the impact force, the absorbed force strengthening their own shield and lowering the strain on the wielder. The shields nature also allows the wielder to deflect bullets, giving the defensive melee soldiers an import role on the field of battle.
The illustration above shows the standard issued medium armor of the Aequitas Combat Teams. While the armor is not obligatory to wear, it offers decent protection due to its low-grade adamant shells. The individual soldier is free to fight in his or her own armor instead.
The Aequitas Combat Teams rely on their own weapons instead of an issued weapon. This allows the personalizing of one’s battle equipment.
The melee and ranged soldiers of the 30th century uphold the traditions of the medieval times as well as the 2nd millennia by using equipment alike the soldiers of those periods. Melee soldiers are often clad in heavy armor, taking on the image of knights and medieval soldiers, while ranged soldiers tend to choose a medium armor suited for movement, aiming as well as concealment.
During the three last centuries as a united Earth, mankind managed to invent several carbon-reinforced metals and alloys. Carbon-reinforced titanium, often called “adamant” as a reference to the medieval term form a hard substance, is the core substance of weapons and armor, tolerating a lot of pressure and wear before breaking or bending. This makes the material very suited for the melee oriented warfare that is fought with conventional swords and armors.
Although energy weapons have seen some action in the 30th century, these weapons are not very widespread. The fear of a new nuclear war as well as straying away from the conventional society has hindered the advancement of energy weapons severely. Only ranged weapons tend to employ energy-based rounds with the purpose of stunning the enemy instead of the standard uranium-tipped ammunition.
The rifles and handguns fire bullets by sending them through a particle accelerator. The muzzle velocity of a standard 5mm bullet can with this technology reach around 2,500 meters per second. The bullets are stored in magazines as was the standard during the 21st and 22nd century, enabling the user to switch between several types of ammunition.
The force field technology of the domes has found another use in the shields of the soldiers. Simply superior to blocking metal with metal, the ‘force shields’ are capable of absorbing much of the impact force, the absorbed force strengthening their own shield and lowering the strain on the wielder. The shields nature also allows the wielder to deflect bullets, giving the defensive melee soldiers an import role on the field of battle.
The illustration above shows the standard issued medium armor of the Aequitas Combat Teams. While the armor is not obligatory to wear, it offers decent protection due to its low-grade adamant shells. The individual soldier is free to fight in his or her own armor instead.
The Aequitas Combat Teams rely on their own weapons instead of an issued weapon. This allows the personalizing of one’s battle equipment.
For this roleplay, the participating characters will (initially) be employed into the Aequitas Combat Teams. We are going to limit the players in the roleplay to 10 for now. These 10 players will be divided into two combat teams, each with a commanding officer, an executive officer and three soldiers:
Combat Team “Black Wolves” Roster
Commanding Officer: Eve Heart | Psychokinetic | Tactician
Executive Officer: Phyllis Zethera | Melee Combat | Offensive
Team Member: Ameriv Argus Cortez | Ranged Combat | Long Range
Team Member: Ririn Crimea | Psychokinetic | Scout
Team Member: Aaron Blake | Ranged Combat | Close Range
Combat Team “Red Lancers” Roster
Commanding Officer: Alexander Patrick Lock | Melee Combat | Defensive
Executive Officer: Logan Sargan | Psychokinetic | Medic
Team Member: Lenard Conner | Ranged Combat | Mid Range
Team Member: Maen Raboc | Ranged Combat | Long Range
Team Member: Lana Haringer | Melee Combat | Offensive
Commanding Officer: Eve Heart | Psychokinetic | Tactician
Executive Officer: Phyllis Zethera | Melee Combat | Offensive
Team Member: Ameriv Argus Cortez | Ranged Combat | Long Range
Team Member: Ririn Crimea | Psychokinetic | Scout
Team Member: Aaron Blake | Ranged Combat | Close Range
Combat Team “Red Lancers” Roster
Commanding Officer: Alexander Patrick Lock | Melee Combat | Defensive
Executive Officer: Logan Sargan | Psychokinetic | Medic
Team Member: Lenard Conner | Ranged Combat | Mid Range
Team Member: Maen Raboc | Ranged Combat | Long Range
Team Member: Lana Haringer | Melee Combat | Offensive
Spots can be reserved for 24 hours!
We would really want to see at least one of each “combat school” in a team, although exceptions can be made. PM a Game Master or write in the OOC!
We would really want to see at least one of each “combat school” in a team, although exceptions can be made. PM a Game Master or write in the OOC!
You are welcome to use the following character skeleton when creating your character. Just remember to follow the rules! The character skeleton has been made so it fits the four character aspects given by the forum.
- Code: Select all
[u][center][size=150]Your characters full name[/size][/center][/u]
[center][img]Your Character Image[/img][/center]
[size=150]Physical Description:[/size]
[b]Nickname:[/b] Your character's nickname(s).
[b]Gender:[/b] Your character’s gender.
[b]Age:[/b] Your character’s age. Please keep it 16+ as he or she will participate in warfare!
[b]Physical Appearance:[/b] Describe your character’s physical appearance. Use your picture or write it out. Height, weight, hair and eye color, skin tone, build as well as voice fall into this category.
[b]Warfare School and Class:[/b] Melee, ranged or psychokinesis school – Your class can be as simple as a de-fender or medic. Please note that you may make up your own class, as long as they are restricted (no “teleki-netic mages” running around). Stay with the lore.
[b]Team and Role:[/b] Describe the team on which your character serves as well as the role of your character. The role might be a medic, or commanding officer, or sniper.
[b]Abilities:[/b] This could be talents or psychokinetic abilities. Please note if you are a psychokinesis user you must restrict your character’s power in some way. Running around the field knowing the thoughts of every enemy is hardly fair/fun.
[size=150]Personality:[/size]
Describe the personality of your character – Remember that we do not want any Mary Sues, so try to make as colored a character as possible.
[size=150]Equipment:[/size]
Describe the weapons (if carried) and armor (if carried) of your character as well as any equipment he or she might carry.
[size=150]History:[/size]
Describe your character’s history. Why did he or she end up at Aequitas’ Combat Teams?
Rules
The following rules are to be followed during the roleplay activity as well as in the off-topic activity:
- Follow the Game Master’s lead:
When participating in this roleplay you are to follow the rules as well as the guidelines made by the Game Masters. The Game Masters in this roleplay are blackwolt and wolf1992, and we will try to make the roleplay flow. We uphold the right to lead the roleplay in what direction we think will benefit it the most. - Be respectful:
Keep the roleplay activity as well as the OOC respectful. We are all here to have some good times, and while conflicts between the characters of the roleplay may occur, we do NOT want to see arguments and conflicts in the OOC. - Be realistic:
This roleplay includes violence and fighting. Be realistic when describing the fighting: After all this isn’t ‘300’. A single person can’t take out ten people at the same time, unless the person is very lucky or the ten people are very weak. Realism creates a nice flow and makes us all happy. - Post Length:
While we will not put a limit on people’s posts (we all know the feeling of writer’s block), we will not tolerate excessive use of one-liners. Take your time making a post instead of posting something half-hearted. After all, this is a post to a forum, not a line of speech for a chat. - Activity and Communication:
As communication between the players of the roleplay is quite important, we encourage you to fre-quently visit and post in the OOC. We expect an activity of 1-2 post a week AT LEAST, although we all have lives besides roleplaying. If you have to go on holiday, cannot post for a while or just suffer from heavy writer’s block, contact one of the GMs or at least keep us up to date in the OOC.
Failure to keep up activity AND notify a GM about the lack of activity will get you booted from the roleplay. - Romance:
Romance is allowed but keep it PG-12 and realistic; a relationship between people doesn’t occur at first sight, but is developed through their personality and actions. And this is not supposed to be an erotic novel! - Creativity:
When making your character, stay realistic and creative. Nobody wants another Mary Sue, and a flaw-less character isn’t that interesting. Make sure your character has some positive sides as well as some negative, and remember that colorful characters will make this roleplay more interesting. - ”Copyright”:
When making your character, please refrain from using already existing characters. Pick any picture you want as long as you do not simply copy the identity of the picture’s character.
Also, this roleplay as well as all of its characters are not to be used in any other way (by other people) unless a GM has approved of it! A lot of work went into making this roleplay, and it should not just be copied.
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Pfc. Lenard Conner played by Hydrall
"Like my gun? It's called the Broadcaster- Because when it fires, you -know- it's there."
Logan Sargan played by JokerofSpades
I'll bring you back to life just to beat the crap outta you again.
Maen Raboc played by Arctic Fury
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These poor, unfortunate souls were once a part of this great world, but have been abandoned. Why don't you consider viewing their profiles and making a decision on whether or not you can roleplay them accurately?
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Places in The League of Origins
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OOC Notes
Two red, dull eyes gazed back at Phyllis from the mirror, slowly moving their focus across the reflection of her face. Her brown hair was a mess, dirt and blood tangling the short hair together and creating a contrast to her pale skin. Across her face dirt had gathered around the moist areas of her mouth and eyes, while blood was smeared across her left cheek. She bend over, the water from the tap soothing her mind as the physical remnants of the night vanished. As she rose to once again confront the mirror, dizziness struck as she became absentminded, the previous night’s episodes haunting her mind.
Blood flowed from the cut as her blades moved through the body of the humanoid spawn, her body feeling the vibrations as the blade cut through the spine. Phyllis shook her head a bit as to make the images and feelings disappear. Yesterday had been the last day of normal guard duty, her education finished and her service as a grunt in the Aequitas Defense Guard being fulfilled. Tonight was to be the final night duty before transferring into the newly formed league teams. Tonight was supposed to have been a formal farewell to the soldiers she had fought side by side with for what seemed like an eternity. A quick glance across the reinforced plates of the reflection’s armor made Phyllis’ mind return to the start of her shift: The normal calmness of the forsaken wasteland that the M3 dome was traversing had been replaced with a sudden spawn attack, forcing her and the other guards to move outside the dome to defend the citizens. The small guard army had faced several hundred monsters, most of the spawn resembling humanoid beings, most likely apes. Phyllis’ facial expression twisted in horror as she thought of the monsters: They could have been humans mutated by the nuclear wasteland.
The war cry of her fellow soldiers as the charged into the spawn brought her back to the field of battle. Her commanding officer Swaeson had been leading the charge that Phyllis participated in. As their charge came to a halt, Swaeson and several other offense based guards had tried to flank the spawn, encircling the monsters and trapping them between the blades of the warriors and the rifles of the soldiers. The eyes of the reflection began to tear up as Phyllis remembered the sudden cry of surprise from Swaeson as he was overpowered by a spawn, his body being crushed beneath the spawn as they fell to the ground. With the spawn finally on the run, Phyllis had rushed to him but too late: Swaeson had passed away, a spawn bite having penetrated his thigh armor. The radioactive level of the spawn saliva was like poison in the human veins. Albeit with great casualties, the spawn had once again taken a good soldier from the Aequitas Defense Guard. Phyllis closed her eyes, her brain trying to cope with her situation as the minutes passed by.
But this was not the time to mourn. Her presence was needed at the briefing room. Grapping a towel and wiping her face dry of water, Phyllis turned around and walked into the hallways of the guard dormitory that had become her home over the last couple of years. A quick peak into the small room that had until recently been hers confirmed her transfer to the newly created league dormitory: Her personal belongings would already be at her new accommodation. The bare, white walls of her old room seemed so sterile. Phyllis began to think back of her first time in military school, her eyes moving along the hallway. The metallic sound of her armor hitting the frame of the door brought her back to reality. “Better hurry”, she thought to herself as she checked for her swords on her back and began to walk through the hallway.
The Aequitas Barracks, the formal name of this cluster of buildings outside the city, consisted of a main building, the ‘Headquarters’, where all the military leaders, coordinators and strategists as well as some jurisdictional and legislative staff worked and lived, as well as a guard dormitory for the Defense Guard and a newly created league team dormitory housing those were supposed ‘to bring glory and riches to the city of Aequitas’. As fancy as it sounded, the league dormitory was no different from the guard dormitory: Small rooms for one or two inhabitants, with shared mess and bathroom facilities amongst all soldiers. The three buildings of the barracks had been places in what could best be described as an angular U, the futuristic style of Aequitas dictating this rather science fictional placement.
As Phyllis reached the entrance to the dormitory and walked out into the drill square in the middle of the “U”-shape, her attention was caught by the mail building: Two large flags, showing off the logos of the two league teams, were placed on the sides of the main entrance to the white HQ building. Phyllis could not help but think of the relic paintings she had been shown since her childhood: Noble warriors and knights in front of Renaissance European fencing schools. Surely the leaders of Aequitas had had these old paintings and traditions in mind when designing the Aequitas Barracks.
Phyllis walked straight through the drill square, her armored boots creating soft metallic sounds as they hit the stones. The black plates of her armor shone in the sun, although they were hardly clean: Blood and sand was smeared across her arms and chest, and although she had tried to wash it away shortly after the battle, the last dirt and blood would remain until her armor was cleaned properly and disassembled. “Might as well do that in the new dormitory”, she had told herself earlier. Besides, the dirty armor would send a signal to the guards as well as the members of the league teams, hopefully manifesting her position as an executive officer. Rumors were that a lot of fresh meat had been recruited specifically for these league teams, and Phyllis would need to keep her authority if she were to assume the role of an XO.
The heavy, wooden doors of the main entrance creaked as Phyllis pushed them open, her movements through the entrance showing determination. The emotions that had previously shown on her face were now gone and only determination could be seen in her eyes. The civil staff members of the jurisdictional and legislative areas were staring at her as she strode by in her armor, the red markings around her chest piece glowing softly in the dimmed light. “Guess they rarely see battle clad warriors around here”, she thought to herself. The door to the briefing room came closer and closer, and Phyllis prepared herself mentally for the confrontation with General Jonathan Verturum, the leader of the Aequitas Defense Guard and League Teams. “I am here to see the General”, Phyllis proclaimed as the two guards’ inquiring eyes hit her, her right hand raised to her head in a salute. “The General is currently preoccupied with the events of the night”, one of the soldiers explained. “You will have to wait here until the league teams have been gathered”. Phyllis recalled the soldier as belonging to one of the city’s defense forces, although she had never served with him directly. She nodded quickly as an affirmation of his words, then looked around and located the nearest bench. Walking over to it, she could hear the murmurs coming from the civil staff as the sound of her armor plates echoed through the halls. “I guess this would be the time to get some rest”, she almost whispered to herself as she sat down on the bench, the events of the night having left her with no sleep until now. She placed her helmet in her lap together with the armored gloves of her armor, the metallic clang from her swords hitting the wall assuring her that she could lean back. Her eyes closed softly as the sounds of the people slowly faded away.
Blood flowed from the cut as her blades moved through the body of the humanoid spawn, her body feeling the vibrations as the blade cut through the spine. Phyllis shook her head a bit as to make the images and feelings disappear. Yesterday had been the last day of normal guard duty, her education finished and her service as a grunt in the Aequitas Defense Guard being fulfilled. Tonight was to be the final night duty before transferring into the newly formed league teams. Tonight was supposed to have been a formal farewell to the soldiers she had fought side by side with for what seemed like an eternity. A quick glance across the reinforced plates of the reflection’s armor made Phyllis’ mind return to the start of her shift: The normal calmness of the forsaken wasteland that the M3 dome was traversing had been replaced with a sudden spawn attack, forcing her and the other guards to move outside the dome to defend the citizens. The small guard army had faced several hundred monsters, most of the spawn resembling humanoid beings, most likely apes. Phyllis’ facial expression twisted in horror as she thought of the monsters: They could have been humans mutated by the nuclear wasteland.
The war cry of her fellow soldiers as the charged into the spawn brought her back to the field of battle. Her commanding officer Swaeson had been leading the charge that Phyllis participated in. As their charge came to a halt, Swaeson and several other offense based guards had tried to flank the spawn, encircling the monsters and trapping them between the blades of the warriors and the rifles of the soldiers. The eyes of the reflection began to tear up as Phyllis remembered the sudden cry of surprise from Swaeson as he was overpowered by a spawn, his body being crushed beneath the spawn as they fell to the ground. With the spawn finally on the run, Phyllis had rushed to him but too late: Swaeson had passed away, a spawn bite having penetrated his thigh armor. The radioactive level of the spawn saliva was like poison in the human veins. Albeit with great casualties, the spawn had once again taken a good soldier from the Aequitas Defense Guard. Phyllis closed her eyes, her brain trying to cope with her situation as the minutes passed by.
But this was not the time to mourn. Her presence was needed at the briefing room. Grapping a towel and wiping her face dry of water, Phyllis turned around and walked into the hallways of the guard dormitory that had become her home over the last couple of years. A quick peak into the small room that had until recently been hers confirmed her transfer to the newly created league dormitory: Her personal belongings would already be at her new accommodation. The bare, white walls of her old room seemed so sterile. Phyllis began to think back of her first time in military school, her eyes moving along the hallway. The metallic sound of her armor hitting the frame of the door brought her back to reality. “Better hurry”, she thought to herself as she checked for her swords on her back and began to walk through the hallway.
The Aequitas Barracks, the formal name of this cluster of buildings outside the city, consisted of a main building, the ‘Headquarters’, where all the military leaders, coordinators and strategists as well as some jurisdictional and legislative staff worked and lived, as well as a guard dormitory for the Defense Guard and a newly created league team dormitory housing those were supposed ‘to bring glory and riches to the city of Aequitas’. As fancy as it sounded, the league dormitory was no different from the guard dormitory: Small rooms for one or two inhabitants, with shared mess and bathroom facilities amongst all soldiers. The three buildings of the barracks had been places in what could best be described as an angular U, the futuristic style of Aequitas dictating this rather science fictional placement.
As Phyllis reached the entrance to the dormitory and walked out into the drill square in the middle of the “U”-shape, her attention was caught by the mail building: Two large flags, showing off the logos of the two league teams, were placed on the sides of the main entrance to the white HQ building. Phyllis could not help but think of the relic paintings she had been shown since her childhood: Noble warriors and knights in front of Renaissance European fencing schools. Surely the leaders of Aequitas had had these old paintings and traditions in mind when designing the Aequitas Barracks.
Phyllis walked straight through the drill square, her armored boots creating soft metallic sounds as they hit the stones. The black plates of her armor shone in the sun, although they were hardly clean: Blood and sand was smeared across her arms and chest, and although she had tried to wash it away shortly after the battle, the last dirt and blood would remain until her armor was cleaned properly and disassembled. “Might as well do that in the new dormitory”, she had told herself earlier. Besides, the dirty armor would send a signal to the guards as well as the members of the league teams, hopefully manifesting her position as an executive officer. Rumors were that a lot of fresh meat had been recruited specifically for these league teams, and Phyllis would need to keep her authority if she were to assume the role of an XO.
The heavy, wooden doors of the main entrance creaked as Phyllis pushed them open, her movements through the entrance showing determination. The emotions that had previously shown on her face were now gone and only determination could be seen in her eyes. The civil staff members of the jurisdictional and legislative areas were staring at her as she strode by in her armor, the red markings around her chest piece glowing softly in the dimmed light. “Guess they rarely see battle clad warriors around here”, she thought to herself. The door to the briefing room came closer and closer, and Phyllis prepared herself mentally for the confrontation with General Jonathan Verturum, the leader of the Aequitas Defense Guard and League Teams. “I am here to see the General”, Phyllis proclaimed as the two guards’ inquiring eyes hit her, her right hand raised to her head in a salute. “The General is currently preoccupied with the events of the night”, one of the soldiers explained. “You will have to wait here until the league teams have been gathered”. Phyllis recalled the soldier as belonging to one of the city’s defense forces, although she had never served with him directly. She nodded quickly as an affirmation of his words, then looked around and located the nearest bench. Walking over to it, she could hear the murmurs coming from the civil staff as the sound of her armor plates echoed through the halls. “I guess this would be the time to get some rest”, she almost whispered to herself as she sat down on the bench, the events of the night having left her with no sleep until now. She placed her helmet in her lap together with the armored gloves of her armor, the metallic clang from her swords hitting the wall assuring her that she could lean back. Her eyes closed softly as the sounds of the people slowly faded away.
OOC Notes
Logan was dead tired. He had just finished unpacking his meager belongings when he was told to go see some high and mighty General dude. He looked around the room: He had moved to the Aequitus Dome just only 2 years ago, after graduating when he was 17 and taking a year to yell at his father. He had been hoping for a peaceful life, possibly settling down or maybe even getting a job as a doctor, but his wild side kept him from either of those things. That was how he got interested in their guard squad. He had heard on the grapevine, cause he has his sources, that they were hurting for some good medics just 6 months ago, and he felt almost compelled to join. However, he refused when they asked if he would join their medical team, saying that he needed to find himself first. The pleading didn't stop. It continued until last week, when he finally caved in and joined on the condition that he set his own rules. They were thrilled.
Last night was the first combat action he had seen in a long time. Being a medic, he was doing his best to find, heal, and fix any problems with the Guards that he could. But he never knew the work, nor the deadliness of the radiation that the beasts could inject into their victims. He had pulled an all nighter healing people, and that didn't put him in a good mood - his mood never was anyway. But the only reason he was asked to be some XO in that stupid league teams was when he was on the field, helping a few people. He was soothing their pain, something most of the doctors had never seen before, with his brain. But the scariest part was when he was attacked by 2 of the beasts. 3 of the medics were killed quite quickly, barely moving since they couldn't defend themselves worth crap. The other 5 had gone off running. Logan, on the other hand, had his melee combat training kicking in. He grabbed a fallen spear to his right, spun around, and impaled the beast as it was lunging at him. Apparently the General thought that party trick was impressive, since he was watching and all.
So here he was, dragged out of his little apartment that he had been sinking most of his money into to fix up and into a white room. Logan thought he had been stuck in a crazy hospital. With only a few hours until some important thing, he changed up the room, putting his very thin armor up on the wall, his spear beside it. Posters covered most of the walls, with a single picture of his family on his shelf. He was happy with his new little room, which he also had demanded that he got one by himself. He got a quick shower, hoping that would wake him up a little, since not sleeping for 36 hours kinda does that to ya. While drying his hair, he grabbed his favourite lighter (lighter links for his list of them will edited into my character.) which he called the 'Spider Lighter' and lit up a cigarette. It got him thinking about his nickname, Spider. He had recieved it not that long ago, and took an instant liking to it. He hated his old name, Corpse. Reminded him of home.
Once he had gotten dressed, back into his usual vest and tie, he stumbled his way to the main room, and pushed open the doors, the cigarette still in his mouth. He was tired, and most could tell. But that didn't mean anybody really wanted to approach him. He had learned whom most these people were by now, having lived in the little dome long enough. But he probably looked like a wreck.
Last night was the first combat action he had seen in a long time. Being a medic, he was doing his best to find, heal, and fix any problems with the Guards that he could. But he never knew the work, nor the deadliness of the radiation that the beasts could inject into their victims. He had pulled an all nighter healing people, and that didn't put him in a good mood - his mood never was anyway. But the only reason he was asked to be some XO in that stupid league teams was when he was on the field, helping a few people. He was soothing their pain, something most of the doctors had never seen before, with his brain. But the scariest part was when he was attacked by 2 of the beasts. 3 of the medics were killed quite quickly, barely moving since they couldn't defend themselves worth crap. The other 5 had gone off running. Logan, on the other hand, had his melee combat training kicking in. He grabbed a fallen spear to his right, spun around, and impaled the beast as it was lunging at him. Apparently the General thought that party trick was impressive, since he was watching and all.
So here he was, dragged out of his little apartment that he had been sinking most of his money into to fix up and into a white room. Logan thought he had been stuck in a crazy hospital. With only a few hours until some important thing, he changed up the room, putting his very thin armor up on the wall, his spear beside it. Posters covered most of the walls, with a single picture of his family on his shelf. He was happy with his new little room, which he also had demanded that he got one by himself. He got a quick shower, hoping that would wake him up a little, since not sleeping for 36 hours kinda does that to ya. While drying his hair, he grabbed his favourite lighter (lighter links for his list of them will edited into my character.) which he called the 'Spider Lighter' and lit up a cigarette. It got him thinking about his nickname, Spider. He had recieved it not that long ago, and took an instant liking to it. He hated his old name, Corpse. Reminded him of home.
Once he had gotten dressed, back into his usual vest and tie, he stumbled his way to the main room, and pushed open the doors, the cigarette still in his mouth. He was tired, and most could tell. But that didn't mean anybody really wanted to approach him. He had learned whom most these people were by now, having lived in the little dome long enough. But he probably looked like a wreck.
OOC Notes
The ocher smell of tobacco filled the room. The smoke circled in the air, describing magnificent images that lasted a few seconds before becoming misshapen smoke once more. Aaron, sitting back in his chair with his feet up on the table, inhaled deeply, feeling the nicotine penetrate his very bloodstream. Tobacco plantations were a rarity these days, especially because not all domes could afford to give away part of their fertile lands to plant something non-vital, but Aaron knew a direct supplier, a supplier that produced high quality cigars…
The dimly lit and smoky room matched Aaron Blake’s personality. There was an empty cigar box thrown into a corner, and the table on which rested Aaron’s dirty boots was dusty and stained, but not more stained than the filthy floor. There was a painting hanging on the wall, a relic from before the war. When Blake purchased it, the dealer said it was an imitation of a very famous painting. It probably wasn’t famous enough, since Aaron didn’t knew it, but this was not the reason why Blake bought the art piece. It was because of its name. The painting was called Mona Lisa.
Lisa. Liz. Elizabeth.
Betty.
Blake liked the picture. He stared at it, leaning back in his chair with his feet up, staring at the woman's mysterious smile. She was very beautiful and very similar to Betty, which was part of the reason why there was a Renaissance painting contrasting with the rest of the room. It was a piece of shit, of course, but a classy piece of shit. Blake picked up his lighter from the table, and stood up. He walked to the painting, looked at it one last time with a long sigh, and then the flames from the lighter set fire to the cheap imitation. He watched as the canvas melted and fell in the ground with a hiss, and soon there was nothing left but ashes and a terrible smell mixed with tobacco.
Aaron Blake smiled. Burning something always made him more excited. He crossed the tiny room that served as his house and lifted the box where Betty, the flamethrower, was. It was a huge black briefcase, in which there were the different propane capsules (lethal and non-lethal), the rest of the flamethrower, various explosives (including pulse grenades) and Aaron’s fireproof armor. Blake tied the bag in his back, put the lighter in his pocket and left the room, hoping never to return.
The future League member crossed the city to the barracks. He certainly did not seem like a combatant. He was dressed in a heavy trouser with lots of pockets in it and a white shirt, surprisingly clean. He shifted the cigar from one spot of his mouth to the another while walking, enjoying the smoke.
The situation was irritating. The letter from General Verturum was surprising, but not that much. Aaron knew his reputation preceded him, and he felt it was almost Verturum’s obligation to ask Blake to join the team. The irritating part was starting from the beginning all over again. Blake had already fought in previous tournaments, but things went wrong… He had to disappear. But anyone well-related could find him, and apparently General Verturum was well-related. Blake didn’t see any problem in joining the tournament again, but starting from scratch… He would have to report to the commander officer of the Black Wolves, pretending that he would obey and serve until death, and only then Aaron would be allowed to go to his room and rest until they could fight. In fact, all that mattered was the fight. The heat of the battle was the reason why Blake got up every morning. The only thing there was to care about was the tournament. What happens before it passes through like a dream, just a bunch of people talking and a monotony eat-sleep cycle. And training. Training hard in order to survive the next fight, and then fight again ...
Aaron looked at the white building, and recognizing the Black Wolves’ flag, he moved on. He walked in, approached the guards and unceremoniously asked: "Who is my superior around here?"
The guard pointed silently to a bench where a woman was sitting. Blake turned to the guard, a sarcastic smile on his face, but when he realized he was serious, his smile disappeared. A woman? Aaron Blake would be forced to obey... A woman?
Aaron crossed the hallway several times, attracting a lot of suspicious looks. Finally he decided to confront the commander herself. He approached the woman, and woke her up with a light punch on her shoulder.
Obviously, 'light' to Aaron Blake meant 'do not cripple or kill', and nothing less. When the woman awoke, Blake mumbled, with a tone of contempt in his voice: "Looks like I'll obey you from now on, so let's cut the bullshit. I'm Blake. Aaron Blake. Now you tell me your name, I pretend I care and you stay out of my way the rest of the time. Got it? Good. Now when does our Commanding Officer arrives?"
The dimly lit and smoky room matched Aaron Blake’s personality. There was an empty cigar box thrown into a corner, and the table on which rested Aaron’s dirty boots was dusty and stained, but not more stained than the filthy floor. There was a painting hanging on the wall, a relic from before the war. When Blake purchased it, the dealer said it was an imitation of a very famous painting. It probably wasn’t famous enough, since Aaron didn’t knew it, but this was not the reason why Blake bought the art piece. It was because of its name. The painting was called Mona Lisa.
Lisa. Liz. Elizabeth.
Betty.
Blake liked the picture. He stared at it, leaning back in his chair with his feet up, staring at the woman's mysterious smile. She was very beautiful and very similar to Betty, which was part of the reason why there was a Renaissance painting contrasting with the rest of the room. It was a piece of shit, of course, but a classy piece of shit. Blake picked up his lighter from the table, and stood up. He walked to the painting, looked at it one last time with a long sigh, and then the flames from the lighter set fire to the cheap imitation. He watched as the canvas melted and fell in the ground with a hiss, and soon there was nothing left but ashes and a terrible smell mixed with tobacco.
Aaron Blake smiled. Burning something always made him more excited. He crossed the tiny room that served as his house and lifted the box where Betty, the flamethrower, was. It was a huge black briefcase, in which there were the different propane capsules (lethal and non-lethal), the rest of the flamethrower, various explosives (including pulse grenades) and Aaron’s fireproof armor. Blake tied the bag in his back, put the lighter in his pocket and left the room, hoping never to return.
The future League member crossed the city to the barracks. He certainly did not seem like a combatant. He was dressed in a heavy trouser with lots of pockets in it and a white shirt, surprisingly clean. He shifted the cigar from one spot of his mouth to the another while walking, enjoying the smoke.
The situation was irritating. The letter from General Verturum was surprising, but not that much. Aaron knew his reputation preceded him, and he felt it was almost Verturum’s obligation to ask Blake to join the team. The irritating part was starting from the beginning all over again. Blake had already fought in previous tournaments, but things went wrong… He had to disappear. But anyone well-related could find him, and apparently General Verturum was well-related. Blake didn’t see any problem in joining the tournament again, but starting from scratch… He would have to report to the commander officer of the Black Wolves, pretending that he would obey and serve until death, and only then Aaron would be allowed to go to his room and rest until they could fight. In fact, all that mattered was the fight. The heat of the battle was the reason why Blake got up every morning. The only thing there was to care about was the tournament. What happens before it passes through like a dream, just a bunch of people talking and a monotony eat-sleep cycle. And training. Training hard in order to survive the next fight, and then fight again ...
Aaron looked at the white building, and recognizing the Black Wolves’ flag, he moved on. He walked in, approached the guards and unceremoniously asked: "Who is my superior around here?"
The guard pointed silently to a bench where a woman was sitting. Blake turned to the guard, a sarcastic smile on his face, but when he realized he was serious, his smile disappeared. A woman? Aaron Blake would be forced to obey... A woman?
Aaron crossed the hallway several times, attracting a lot of suspicious looks. Finally he decided to confront the commander herself. He approached the woman, and woke her up with a light punch on her shoulder.
Obviously, 'light' to Aaron Blake meant 'do not cripple or kill', and nothing less. When the woman awoke, Blake mumbled, with a tone of contempt in his voice: "Looks like I'll obey you from now on, so let's cut the bullshit. I'm Blake. Aaron Blake. Now you tell me your name, I pretend I care and you stay out of my way the rest of the time. Got it? Good. Now when does our Commanding Officer arrives?"
OOC Notes
“Kester, Miko, Barry, Lin, Scott, Tabby and Megan” Lock was flipping through the dog tags of his fallen squad. IT had been 3 long years, but he still look over them from time to time. He would say their name. Always in the order of their dog tag number. They were good soldier and great friends. Even the way they died was noble. Lock could ask no more from anyone. To die to save others.
The dog tags made the sound of jiggle bells as he places them softly back into his foot locker. The foot locker was filled with a random assortment of belongings. A violin, a tennis racket, a top hat, a chess board and a picture of Lock and his old squad. They were all he had to remember them by. The locker shut with a thud and then Lock secured it with a padlock.
Lock mobilises his large limbs as he pushes off his bed and walks to a finely crafted desk. He opens a draw to reveal a stack brown paper folders each around a stack of papers. He counts them. One, two, three. No four. Lock was told he would be in charge of four people. With a great displeasing sigh he is force to except that he won’t be able to read up on all the soldiers under his command. However he starts with the three that he has.
“Logan Sargan” Lock thinks to himself. As he mulls over the information in the files of his Executive Officer thoughts on the matter start to form“. Young for such a position. Medic is an odd choice for Executive Officer. Impressive treatment records. Ah, that explains why, quite an ability. Good bed side manner. Yet not exactly a man of the people. Next to zero experience. Worrying” Lock puts the file down and picks up the next file.
“Lenard Conner. Impressive running speed for such a load. What an awkward weapon choice. Not to mention a show off. Again limited experience“. Lock tossed the file with the last one and frowned as he realised a pattern emerging.
“Maen Raboc. Impressive marksmanship, in fact very impressive. Yet again little experience. Been a civilian far to long for my liking“. Lock placed the file down softly as he let the thoughts of these three men he now had to order around.
“It looks as if General Verturum has a wicked sense of humour. Giving me three men with little experience each with there own personal hang-ups. Still, there is much potential here” Lock put the files back the draw and locked the draw. He then walked over to the bed he had yet to sleep in. As he got into bed his last thought before his nap was “diamonds in the ruff”.
The dog tags made the sound of jiggle bells as he places them softly back into his foot locker. The foot locker was filled with a random assortment of belongings. A violin, a tennis racket, a top hat, a chess board and a picture of Lock and his old squad. They were all he had to remember them by. The locker shut with a thud and then Lock secured it with a padlock.
Lock mobilises his large limbs as he pushes off his bed and walks to a finely crafted desk. He opens a draw to reveal a stack brown paper folders each around a stack of papers. He counts them. One, two, three. No four. Lock was told he would be in charge of four people. With a great displeasing sigh he is force to except that he won’t be able to read up on all the soldiers under his command. However he starts with the three that he has.
“Logan Sargan” Lock thinks to himself. As he mulls over the information in the files of his Executive Officer thoughts on the matter start to form“. Young for such a position. Medic is an odd choice for Executive Officer. Impressive treatment records. Ah, that explains why, quite an ability. Good bed side manner. Yet not exactly a man of the people. Next to zero experience. Worrying” Lock puts the file down and picks up the next file.
“Lenard Conner. Impressive running speed for such a load. What an awkward weapon choice. Not to mention a show off. Again limited experience“. Lock tossed the file with the last one and frowned as he realised a pattern emerging.
“Maen Raboc. Impressive marksmanship, in fact very impressive. Yet again little experience. Been a civilian far to long for my liking“. Lock placed the file down softly as he let the thoughts of these three men he now had to order around.
“It looks as if General Verturum has a wicked sense of humour. Giving me three men with little experience each with there own personal hang-ups. Still, there is much potential here” Lock put the files back the draw and locked the draw. He then walked over to the bed he had yet to sleep in. As he got into bed his last thought before his nap was “diamonds in the ruff”.
OOC Notes
Standing in the center of the relatively quiet drill square, Maen Raboc once more held the little slip of paper up to his helmeted head. The slip contained orders to report to General Verturum in the Aequitas Barracks, as well as instructions on how to the building where he was located. After accidentally wandering into the wrong building twice, Maen finally managed to figure out the directions. The place he was looking for was the white building directly to his right. Shoving the paper back into his pocket, Maen picked up 'Gravy' and slung it over his shoulder before heading towards the entranceway.
When he had first received the slip, he thought for sure it was going to be further orders to just wait for further orders, but his spirits rose when it informed him to report in with full gear, and that his belongings would be transfered to the Team dormitory. He had spent most of the previous day out on the dome with friends, spending the majority of his money on what little entertainment the Dome had to offer. His willingness to indulge in personal fantasies while battles were being fought beyond the borders of the Dome had irritated many, but Maen had always been an upbeat individual, and refused to let anything spoil his mood. "They accepted this way of life when they volunteered." he thought to himself.
As he stood before the heavy wooden doors leading into the HQ building, he realized just what it was that he volunteered for.
Pushing the doors open, he was relieved to find no one in his face reminding him to remove his headgear, as was typical with military facilities. "Looks like the League regulations are a bit more lax than the standard rank-and-file." Of this he was glad, one of the main reasons he had been so reluctant to join the Guard was due to everyone having a stick up their rear. He kept his trademark helmet on as he stepped forward into the room, he was approached by a squat old man who appeared to be civilian. "League?" he asked curtly. "So they tell me. I'm supposed to report to General Verturum." The man pointed across the hall to a door flanked by two soldiers. "Thanks." returned Raboc, but the man had already wandered off. Approaching the door with his usual confident demeanor, he turned to one of the soldiers. "Am I late?" he asked. The man looked at him, "The briefing hasn't started yet. Stand by." Maen smiled under his helmet, "Oh joy." he thought as he walked away "Stand by in military terms means shut up and wait for a few hours." Without bothering to look around, Maen quickly found a place to sit in a far off corner and took it. Setting 'Gravy' by his side, he crossed his legs and leaned back in a relaxed position. This could take a while.
When he had first received the slip, he thought for sure it was going to be further orders to just wait for further orders, but his spirits rose when it informed him to report in with full gear, and that his belongings would be transfered to the Team dormitory. He had spent most of the previous day out on the dome with friends, spending the majority of his money on what little entertainment the Dome had to offer. His willingness to indulge in personal fantasies while battles were being fought beyond the borders of the Dome had irritated many, but Maen had always been an upbeat individual, and refused to let anything spoil his mood. "They accepted this way of life when they volunteered." he thought to himself.
As he stood before the heavy wooden doors leading into the HQ building, he realized just what it was that he volunteered for.
Pushing the doors open, he was relieved to find no one in his face reminding him to remove his headgear, as was typical with military facilities. "Looks like the League regulations are a bit more lax than the standard rank-and-file." Of this he was glad, one of the main reasons he had been so reluctant to join the Guard was due to everyone having a stick up their rear. He kept his trademark helmet on as he stepped forward into the room, he was approached by a squat old man who appeared to be civilian. "League?" he asked curtly. "So they tell me. I'm supposed to report to General Verturum." The man pointed across the hall to a door flanked by two soldiers. "Thanks." returned Raboc, but the man had already wandered off. Approaching the door with his usual confident demeanor, he turned to one of the soldiers. "Am I late?" he asked. The man looked at him, "The briefing hasn't started yet. Stand by." Maen smiled under his helmet, "Oh joy." he thought as he walked away "Stand by in military terms means shut up and wait for a few hours." Without bothering to look around, Maen quickly found a place to sit in a far off corner and took it. Setting 'Gravy' by his side, he crossed his legs and leaned back in a relaxed position. This could take a while.
OOC Notes
Ririn Crimea sighed for what must have been the 80th time that day. He was in his room, airily resting on some of the boxes that had been piled into the center of his room, and looking around at the room with sad eyes. Never in his nearly twenty years of living here had his room ever felt so empty. Everything he had intended to take with him-clothes, personal belongings, supplies-had been packed into a crate and duffle bag, and were sitting beside the door waiting for him. Everything else was packed up in the boxes that he was currently sitting on, just waiting to be moved out into storage, leaving the space completely bare. Every sign that a little boy, and later a quiet teenager, had ever lived there would be gone by the end of the week. Of course, Ririn thought, he was an adult now. It was perfectly normal for a young man to leave his father's house. That thought didn't change the problem though: he was going to miss the place.
Deciding that there was no point in delaying any longer, stood up from his sitting position, sighing sigh #81, and heading for the door. He hoisted the crate up and tucked the duffle bag over his other shoulder, and then closed the door to his room for the last time without a last look back. He navigated the narrow hallway of his father's small house, careful not to bang the crate against the wall. He took the steps one a time (an oddity for him), and stepped into the foyer. Ririn's father was already in the kitchen, which was visible from the foyer, cleaning up from the early dinner he and his son had had. The older man turned around when he heard Ririn come down. Ririn looked at his father, and took in the sight of the man who had raised him.
Alec Crimea looked like an older version of Ririn. He was fairly tall, now just a bit shorter than his son, and slight. His hair had been blonde, but had grayed into a peppery color, and now seemed permanently withered and windswept on his head. His skin didn't have his son's paleness, rather, it was tenderly tanned in a way that spoke of years outdoors. Ririn's father had always had tranquil green eyes, and even now the glistened peacefully behind his lashes. Although something was very different about his eyes today: They were wet with tears.
"Oh Dad..." Ririn dropped the crate and bag and ran up to his father, hugging his father tightly. Alec returned the embrace, sighing a bit in a resigned way. Apparently, sighing was a genetic thing for the Crimean men.
Alec broke the hug, but kept his hands on his son's shoulders. "You be sure to look after yourself, 'right Rin? Don't put yourself in a situation where you can't get out." Ririn nodded, and squeezed the hands on his shoulders. "Know I will." With that, they broke apart, and picked up the things Ririn had dropped. Ririn opened the door, and stepped out onto the porch, feeling the sun on his face. He took his first steps out of the nest, walking out onto the sidewalk that would lead him to the building where he was to go. Ririn turned his head over his shoulder and gave his father a watery smile. "Love you Dad," he called, and then broke out into a run. Alec rushed to the edge of his property, waving to his son and yelling "Come back to me in one piece, you hear me!? I want to hear all about how you brought our home to glory!"
...
The new scout of the Black Wolves stepped into the building that held the first step to his new life. He had only had to stop once to ask for directions, and thankfully, he had simply been able to flash the invitation he'd been given, and the shoulder had pointed him in the right direction. There were a few people in the lobby area, which Ririn quickly avoided as he stepped towards the receptionist. Once again, he simply flashed the invitation he had been given to the person, and she pointed him in the direction of some of the people in the room. His head turned back to the pointer with a mortified expression on his face. There was no way he was going to introduce himself to actual people. Grumbling in exasperation, she pointed instead to one of the empty waiting chairs. Giving her an apologetic look, he moved to sit and rest his weary feet, setting the crate beside him and letting the bag rest ontop of the wooden storage unit.
Deciding that there was no point in delaying any longer, stood up from his sitting position, sighing sigh #81, and heading for the door. He hoisted the crate up and tucked the duffle bag over his other shoulder, and then closed the door to his room for the last time without a last look back. He navigated the narrow hallway of his father's small house, careful not to bang the crate against the wall. He took the steps one a time (an oddity for him), and stepped into the foyer. Ririn's father was already in the kitchen, which was visible from the foyer, cleaning up from the early dinner he and his son had had. The older man turned around when he heard Ririn come down. Ririn looked at his father, and took in the sight of the man who had raised him.
Alec Crimea looked like an older version of Ririn. He was fairly tall, now just a bit shorter than his son, and slight. His hair had been blonde, but had grayed into a peppery color, and now seemed permanently withered and windswept on his head. His skin didn't have his son's paleness, rather, it was tenderly tanned in a way that spoke of years outdoors. Ririn's father had always had tranquil green eyes, and even now the glistened peacefully behind his lashes. Although something was very different about his eyes today: They were wet with tears.
"Oh Dad..." Ririn dropped the crate and bag and ran up to his father, hugging his father tightly. Alec returned the embrace, sighing a bit in a resigned way. Apparently, sighing was a genetic thing for the Crimean men.
Alec broke the hug, but kept his hands on his son's shoulders. "You be sure to look after yourself, 'right Rin? Don't put yourself in a situation where you can't get out." Ririn nodded, and squeezed the hands on his shoulders. "Know I will." With that, they broke apart, and picked up the things Ririn had dropped. Ririn opened the door, and stepped out onto the porch, feeling the sun on his face. He took his first steps out of the nest, walking out onto the sidewalk that would lead him to the building where he was to go. Ririn turned his head over his shoulder and gave his father a watery smile. "Love you Dad," he called, and then broke out into a run. Alec rushed to the edge of his property, waving to his son and yelling "Come back to me in one piece, you hear me!? I want to hear all about how you brought our home to glory!"
...
The new scout of the Black Wolves stepped into the building that held the first step to his new life. He had only had to stop once to ask for directions, and thankfully, he had simply been able to flash the invitation he'd been given, and the shoulder had pointed him in the right direction. There were a few people in the lobby area, which Ririn quickly avoided as he stepped towards the receptionist. Once again, he simply flashed the invitation he had been given to the person, and she pointed him in the direction of some of the people in the room. His head turned back to the pointer with a mortified expression on his face. There was no way he was going to introduce himself to actual people. Grumbling in exasperation, she pointed instead to one of the empty waiting chairs. Giving her an apologetic look, he moved to sit and rest his weary feet, setting the crate beside him and letting the bag rest ontop of the wooden storage unit.
OOC Notes
Lenard Conner
"Doo da, doo da, dada da dada, dada dada, dada da dada..."
The sound of humming carried up the hallway as a man in red scaled armor came trodding down the hall. He wasn't especially unexpected, since there were already other armored soldiers hanging around. He walked with the stance of someone used to carrying a heavy weight everywhere, his steps too light and firm as he overcompensated for a burden that wasn't there. His odd step carried him over to the receptionist's desk, where he was turned away with the same polite (but growing in annoyance) response that had greeted all of the others.
The man continued with his odd gait into the waiting room, and entered with a grin. "Hey, you all be here for the games as well?" He spoke with an obvious accent, one that wasn't usually found in the domes. Compounded with his bleached hair and pale skin, he looked obviously foreign, although he retained a similar body shape that said he wasn't too foreign. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Can't wait, myself! Honor to the dome, and, uh, stuff." He threw himself into one of the chairs, leaning backwards and stretching out.
But most honor to myself, he thought happily, but his excitement faded slowly as time passed. I've got to stand out from these chumps, got to make myself look better. Maybe I should have brought my gun? He imagined attempting to carry it through the hallways, and what people might react with. Er, maybe not... It had probably been a better idea to leave it with his other things, too.
OOC Notes
Logan was sitting in one of the comfy chairs, near a window, smoking away like he always did. As soon as one finally ended, he would light up another with his Spider lighter. He tried to focus on his new job, being some Executive Officer for the team the Red Lancers. His medical bag, which he had carried with him for over 3 years, got a make over with the Red Lancer's icon replacing the original red cross. He never liked that cross anyway, but the Lancers logo looked alright. Nothing too flashy, just a red dude on a red horse. With a lance, of course. And now he kept lighting his lighter, looking around.
A dude that, he guessed, was supposed to be unnerving with a massive black case on his back was waking up some random sleeping chick. These people looked all like massive jokes to him, none of them looking like a normal, simple soldier. But then again, neither was he. Maybe he should start talking or something... Screw it. He was too damn tired to even care if someone got shot. And his job was to care. Just as he thought that the moron squads couldn't become more idiotic, a complete fool of a dude walks in and starts talking like the world just crowned him friggin king. He didn't look like he was from around here, but neither was he, so why the hell was he talking?
But his annoyance spiked when the dude laid down on the couch. Was this guy a soldier, or some random chef?! He began to swear under his breath, annoyed at how cheery this guy was. Soldiers were fighting last night. He obviously wasn't. And that pissed him off. As long as the guy kept his damn mouth shut and wasn't on his team, he would be fine. Logan decided to voice that opinion.
"Hey, buddy. If you haven't noticed, we are all a little tired after last night. So if you could shut up and keep quiet like everybody else, we would all be grateful." Sarcasm dripped from his lips as his double coloured eyes blinked.
A dude that, he guessed, was supposed to be unnerving with a massive black case on his back was waking up some random sleeping chick. These people looked all like massive jokes to him, none of them looking like a normal, simple soldier. But then again, neither was he. Maybe he should start talking or something... Screw it. He was too damn tired to even care if someone got shot. And his job was to care. Just as he thought that the moron squads couldn't become more idiotic, a complete fool of a dude walks in and starts talking like the world just crowned him friggin king. He didn't look like he was from around here, but neither was he, so why the hell was he talking?
But his annoyance spiked when the dude laid down on the couch. Was this guy a soldier, or some random chef?! He began to swear under his breath, annoyed at how cheery this guy was. Soldiers were fighting last night. He obviously wasn't. And that pissed him off. As long as the guy kept his damn mouth shut and wasn't on his team, he would be fine. Logan decided to voice that opinion.
"Hey, buddy. If you haven't noticed, we are all a little tired after last night. So if you could shut up and keep quiet like everybody else, we would all be grateful." Sarcasm dripped from his lips as his double coloured eyes blinked.
OOC Notes
Lock had woken up at the sound of the alarm as he had planned. He prefer to look his best when meeting new soldiers. It was quite some time until he was back in his armour. After all he had to polish it, buckle it in just right and make sure that all the joints worked as they should. Lock leaves his weapons in his room as he walking to the meeting hall. It was time to meet the recruits.
As he approached he heard the back and forth of two of his soon to be men. Lenard sounded fake. Lock didn’t need a file to tell that much. Logan, on the other hand, seemed to have his mind set on the job at hand. Perhaps he was in the right role after all.
“How interesting for you Logan. You see, like yourself, Lenard here will soon be under my command. Now I hear you have good bedside manners. It will be interesting to see if you apply them to someone you dislike” Lock looked over his men. He only got to see their faces in the files. Seeing them in person, and their attire didn’t exactly inspire confidence. “I am Commander Lock, Commander of the Red Lancers” Lock salutes quickly and with purpose.
As he approached he heard the back and forth of two of his soon to be men. Lenard sounded fake. Lock didn’t need a file to tell that much. Logan, on the other hand, seemed to have his mind set on the job at hand. Perhaps he was in the right role after all.
“How interesting for you Logan. You see, like yourself, Lenard here will soon be under my command. Now I hear you have good bedside manners. It will be interesting to see if you apply them to someone you dislike” Lock looked over his men. He only got to see their faces in the files. Seeing them in person, and their attire didn’t exactly inspire confidence. “I am Commander Lock, Commander of the Red Lancers” Lock salutes quickly and with purpose.
OOC Notes
The smell of coffee and the sound of fingers dancing on a laptop keyboard were filling the room Eve had lived in for almost four years now. The room was empty except for the standard furniture that had been moved back into the room, when Eve’s personal belongings were moved to her new room in the league team barracks.
Eve looked at the clock on the laptop screen, it’s about time to leave. She closed the laptop and put on her white trench coat together with her white leather gloves that matched the coat. Both the coat and the gloves had the family crest printed into the leather. The reports of last night’s events has to wait for now. With a tired look on her face she opened the door and left the neutral white room.
While walking on the cobblestone in the streets she couldn’t help but think about last night. Maybe it was because of the crying civilians desperately trying to find their family members, maybe because of the soldiers walking around like brain-dead zombies thinking about the people they never would see again. Eve couldn’t tell nor would she try to, showing your feelings in the middle of the street like that was a sign of weakness. Though deep inside, she couldn’t help but feel remorse by thinking that way. Damn I hate this split personality of mine.
Different from most of the people in the city Eve had actually had a good night of sleep, surely because of the painkillers combined with the sleeping pills. She had to be in top shape every time she was inside the city barracks, if she should be able to achieve what she wanted.
As Eve finally arrived at her destination she could see that most of the team had already gathered there, except for one. A quick observation gave her the feeling of different conflicts occurring, everybody had had a hard time the last night, but letting it out on other soldiers was the wrong move. Eve walked up towards Aaron and Phyllis “Is something wrong?” She said with a somewhat happy voice and a forced smile on her lips. She had already read a bit about the members of the Black Wolves, the man’s name was Aaron Blake, a man that was hard to control, but still a good card to be able to play if necessary. “I would rather want you to talk to me than waking Phyllis right now. She has had a rough night on the field and seems like she is in need of some sleep.” She put out her hand in order to shake his, hopefully he would accept that.
Eve looked at the clock on the laptop screen, it’s about time to leave. She closed the laptop and put on her white trench coat together with her white leather gloves that matched the coat. Both the coat and the gloves had the family crest printed into the leather. The reports of last night’s events has to wait for now. With a tired look on her face she opened the door and left the neutral white room.
While walking on the cobblestone in the streets she couldn’t help but think about last night. Maybe it was because of the crying civilians desperately trying to find their family members, maybe because of the soldiers walking around like brain-dead zombies thinking about the people they never would see again. Eve couldn’t tell nor would she try to, showing your feelings in the middle of the street like that was a sign of weakness. Though deep inside, she couldn’t help but feel remorse by thinking that way. Damn I hate this split personality of mine.
Different from most of the people in the city Eve had actually had a good night of sleep, surely because of the painkillers combined with the sleeping pills. She had to be in top shape every time she was inside the city barracks, if she should be able to achieve what she wanted.
As Eve finally arrived at her destination she could see that most of the team had already gathered there, except for one. A quick observation gave her the feeling of different conflicts occurring, everybody had had a hard time the last night, but letting it out on other soldiers was the wrong move. Eve walked up towards Aaron and Phyllis “Is something wrong?” She said with a somewhat happy voice and a forced smile on her lips. She had already read a bit about the members of the Black Wolves, the man’s name was Aaron Blake, a man that was hard to control, but still a good card to be able to play if necessary. “I would rather want you to talk to me than waking Phyllis right now. She has had a rough night on the field and seems like she is in need of some sleep.” She put out her hand in order to shake his, hopefully he would accept that.
OOC Notes
Blake turned to the newcomer, a woman whose beauty would have taken the breath of any man, but not Aaron. He had lost his taste for women a long time ago. There had been no other, and no better woman than Betty ...
The woman looked at him with a goofy grin plastered on her face and an outstretched hand. Even though Aaron was still angry he would have to do the ceremony all over again, he could not ignore a gesture like that. He shook hands with the woman, trying hard not to break any bone, and answered, making another effort not to sound rude.
"Yes, there is a problem, ma’am. I just arrived here and I found out that my team's Executive Officer is a woman! No offense, ma’am, but women cannot lead! It is a scientific fact. I was hoping to meet with the Commanding Officer of the Black Wolves and maybe he could explain to me what's going on. Anyway, I'm also here to see the General Verturum, like everyone else. So I don’t want any problems, at least not for now. "
And not without Betty, Blake thought. If he had the flamethrower equipped, this conversation would be a lot different.
Trying to sound friendly was a very complex communication exercise for Blake. Damn, he used to talk that much in one week! That didn’t mean Aaron wasn’t smart. Blake had a lethal intelligence, but a slight... Issue with words and social relations in general. Blake only liked two kinds of people: Those who respected him ... And those who burned.
The woman looked at him with a goofy grin plastered on her face and an outstretched hand. Even though Aaron was still angry he would have to do the ceremony all over again, he could not ignore a gesture like that. He shook hands with the woman, trying hard not to break any bone, and answered, making another effort not to sound rude.
"Yes, there is a problem, ma’am. I just arrived here and I found out that my team's Executive Officer is a woman! No offense, ma’am, but women cannot lead! It is a scientific fact. I was hoping to meet with the Commanding Officer of the Black Wolves and maybe he could explain to me what's going on. Anyway, I'm also here to see the General Verturum, like everyone else. So I don’t want any problems, at least not for now. "
And not without Betty, Blake thought. If he had the flamethrower equipped, this conversation would be a lot different.
Trying to sound friendly was a very complex communication exercise for Blake. Damn, he used to talk that much in one week! That didn’t mean Aaron wasn’t smart. Blake had a lethal intelligence, but a slight... Issue with words and social relations in general. Blake only liked two kinds of people: Those who respected him ... And those who burned.
OOC Notes
A tall, lithe figured stepped gracefully past the neatly tended lawns and flowerbeds that enhanced the era-less structures of the Headquaters. He wore light brown shirt and trousers, pressed and unwrinkled in an military manner. His gait was also military, strong and sure. He extruded self confidence that was surprising from a grunt of the military service. Although Ameriv Argus Cortez knew he was no grunt, although his rank could say otherwise. He knew himself to be skilled at what he did and a valuable asset to the defense force. He was proud of his ability, not attempting to pass his own boundaries as was right. Yet in the steady steps there was the slight slope of his shoulders and the bags beneath his eyes. Fatigue leeched lightly into his muscles from a short night.
As an active member of the Aequitas Defense Force he was required to assist in defending the dome. He would have gone anyway, it was his duty and where else would his skill come in use. He had focused his life on being a warrior, to cower when he was needed would undo everything. So it was that as the sun set upon the peaceful community that he joined the chaos of prevent the hideous spawn from penetrating the unguarded interior. He had taken to a sniper roof and the the moon bathed the battlefield as the warmth of his rifle bathed the side of his face. Countless times he had seen the pink mist of through the scope, a mutated beast lurching to death as the bullet ripped through its flesh. He had seen fellow soldiers die alongside, not hearing their screams of death from his safety. He offered little sorrow for their passing, they were warriors giving themselves to protect. There was nothing greater or worthy for them. It was late into the night as the assault ended and the soldiers were dismissed to get as good a nights sleep as possible.
He was intended to have been present at the ceremony appointing the new members of the League teams until it was untimely interrupted. The man felt no great thrill at this success, only a determination to deserve the appointment that he had garnered. He slept for a short time and awoke early, certainly not getting a decent amount of sleep. He had attended the practice range in the morning, like clockwork and today was no exception. His aim was unfaltering. Score peaking just below his acceptable mark. He grudgingly settled for that, knowing that he ought to have continued and hit his target score. Yet he had no time and the night condensed his usual timetable.
His lateness was guiltless however as he entered the waiting room shortly behind his commanding officer. Not that he knew he position at the time. He ignored the others and took a seat, not allowing his eyes to shut him in a small peace. It would not do to give this situation anything other then the attention it deserved.
As an active member of the Aequitas Defense Force he was required to assist in defending the dome. He would have gone anyway, it was his duty and where else would his skill come in use. He had focused his life on being a warrior, to cower when he was needed would undo everything. So it was that as the sun set upon the peaceful community that he joined the chaos of prevent the hideous spawn from penetrating the unguarded interior. He had taken to a sniper roof and the the moon bathed the battlefield as the warmth of his rifle bathed the side of his face. Countless times he had seen the pink mist of through the scope, a mutated beast lurching to death as the bullet ripped through its flesh. He had seen fellow soldiers die alongside, not hearing their screams of death from his safety. He offered little sorrow for their passing, they were warriors giving themselves to protect. There was nothing greater or worthy for them. It was late into the night as the assault ended and the soldiers were dismissed to get as good a nights sleep as possible.
He was intended to have been present at the ceremony appointing the new members of the League teams until it was untimely interrupted. The man felt no great thrill at this success, only a determination to deserve the appointment that he had garnered. He slept for a short time and awoke early, certainly not getting a decent amount of sleep. He had attended the practice range in the morning, like clockwork and today was no exception. His aim was unfaltering. Score peaking just below his acceptable mark. He grudgingly settled for that, knowing that he ought to have continued and hit his target score. Yet he had no time and the night condensed his usual timetable.
His lateness was guiltless however as he entered the waiting room shortly behind his commanding officer. Not that he knew he position at the time. He ignored the others and took a seat, not allowing his eyes to shut him in a small peace. It would not do to give this situation anything other then the attention it deserved.
OOC Notes
Lana sat in her newly-appointed, plain little room, polishing and sharpening her prized axe. At 17, she was the youngest on her new soon-to-be squad. She was accepted early from Combat school due to exceptionally high performance and recommendation, but sadly being the youngest took its toll. She wasn't exactly taken seriously and was usually overlooked as weak. It didn't help that she was teased for being fragile. Of course, they wouldn't tease her if they actually knew she was a girl. They thought she was just a little boy who could barely lift the axe that he wielded. But Lan was okay with this. It's what she wanted. A new identity, free of the shackles of her previous life.
The ex-communication wasn't entirely her fellow students and new teammates fault though. Lan brought a lot of it on herself. She stayed quiet and kept her head down most of the time, and only talked when spoken to. She would rather be seen as weak and then strike out when the situation called for her too. She also enjoyed the privacy because in her eyes, company meant more people around to discover her secret. She was sure nothing would happen to her, but maybe they would call her ex-guardians or kick her out of the Defense Force and League team altogether. That would ruin everything she had planned out in her narrow little mind.
Finally, she set down her axe and stood up to look at herself in the mirror. She saw all her slender curves and soft feminine features and wondered how in the world she hadn't been found out already. Her eyes were big and round reflecting the stormy gray of her heart and her short auburn hair was laying randomly a tangled mop. It was always messy. Used to, she would be annoyed and try to fight with it, but she had realized it gave her an extra boyish look so she usually kept it the way it was.
Suddenly, she heard a voice yelling out and a heavy knock on her door. "Spawn attack! Ready your weapons, Lan, you're needed on the front line!"
She threw on her breastplate and roughly grabbed her axe and helmet. Then she threw open the door to reveal a frantic young trainee, Jered, she thought his name was. "Where?" she asked him sternly.
"Just to the west of the northern front. They haven't made it to the city yet, but there's loads of them. Commander Jax told me that he needed you to lead a small front line to attack head on, while he leads a larger group around their right to flank them," he spoke quickly and in a grave tone.
"Thanks, soldier," Lan said as she quickly ran through the hallways, footsteps pounding in sync with her heartbeat. Spawn attacks always exhilarated her, sent burning adrenaline rushing through her veins. She loved the feeling of her axe burying deep into the heads or chest of whatever monster she faced; each time she destroyed a creature she felt that she was one step closer to avenging her beloved family. Besides, this was her last mission as a regular Defense Force soldier. Tomorrow she would officially be part of the Red Lances. She just had to live that long.
~~~
The next morning, Lan woke, exhausted from the bloody battle of the previous night. She lay in bed for a while, replaying the brutal scenes of death and torment in her mind before she got up and got dressed, her usual outfit of tightly fitting black cloth pants and a lose sweater with the sleeves rolled up. Luckily, her legs were fit for a boy but she had to hide her chest with lose clothing. "Damn, this is a pain." She thought as she adjusted her shaggy hair a little and shoved her dagger in its sheath around her waist before walking out of her room through the halls to where the new squads were meeting.
When she got there, she examined her new teammates. She noticed a large man with un-swaying confidence whom she assumed to be the Commander of the Red Lancers. She also noticed two young looking men to be about in their twenties, one laying cockily on the couch, the other looking like he was about to cut the first one. The second man looked calm and official, and also carried what appeared to be a medical bag. She predicted him to be second in command. She usually had a pretty good sense for things like that.
She took one last look at the rag-tag group before walking slowly forward, quietly with an air of something between confidence and intimidation.
"Private Lan Haringer reporting sir," she saluted to the large commander. This was going to be interesting
The ex-communication wasn't entirely her fellow students and new teammates fault though. Lan brought a lot of it on herself. She stayed quiet and kept her head down most of the time, and only talked when spoken to. She would rather be seen as weak and then strike out when the situation called for her too. She also enjoyed the privacy because in her eyes, company meant more people around to discover her secret. She was sure nothing would happen to her, but maybe they would call her ex-guardians or kick her out of the Defense Force and League team altogether. That would ruin everything she had planned out in her narrow little mind.
Finally, she set down her axe and stood up to look at herself in the mirror. She saw all her slender curves and soft feminine features and wondered how in the world she hadn't been found out already. Her eyes were big and round reflecting the stormy gray of her heart and her short auburn hair was laying randomly a tangled mop. It was always messy. Used to, she would be annoyed and try to fight with it, but she had realized it gave her an extra boyish look so she usually kept it the way it was.
Suddenly, she heard a voice yelling out and a heavy knock on her door. "Spawn attack! Ready your weapons, Lan, you're needed on the front line!"
She threw on her breastplate and roughly grabbed her axe and helmet. Then she threw open the door to reveal a frantic young trainee, Jered, she thought his name was. "Where?" she asked him sternly.
"Just to the west of the northern front. They haven't made it to the city yet, but there's loads of them. Commander Jax told me that he needed you to lead a small front line to attack head on, while he leads a larger group around their right to flank them," he spoke quickly and in a grave tone.
"Thanks, soldier," Lan said as she quickly ran through the hallways, footsteps pounding in sync with her heartbeat. Spawn attacks always exhilarated her, sent burning adrenaline rushing through her veins. She loved the feeling of her axe burying deep into the heads or chest of whatever monster she faced; each time she destroyed a creature she felt that she was one step closer to avenging her beloved family. Besides, this was her last mission as a regular Defense Force soldier. Tomorrow she would officially be part of the Red Lances. She just had to live that long.
~~~
The next morning, Lan woke, exhausted from the bloody battle of the previous night. She lay in bed for a while, replaying the brutal scenes of death and torment in her mind before she got up and got dressed, her usual outfit of tightly fitting black cloth pants and a lose sweater with the sleeves rolled up. Luckily, her legs were fit for a boy but she had to hide her chest with lose clothing. "Damn, this is a pain." She thought as she adjusted her shaggy hair a little and shoved her dagger in its sheath around her waist before walking out of her room through the halls to where the new squads were meeting.
When she got there, she examined her new teammates. She noticed a large man with un-swaying confidence whom she assumed to be the Commander of the Red Lancers. She also noticed two young looking men to be about in their twenties, one laying cockily on the couch, the other looking like he was about to cut the first one. The second man looked calm and official, and also carried what appeared to be a medical bag. She predicted him to be second in command. She usually had a pretty good sense for things like that.
She took one last look at the rag-tag group before walking slowly forward, quietly with an air of something between confidence and intimidation.
"Private Lan Haringer reporting sir," she saluted to the large commander. This was going to be interesting
OOC Notes
Lock looks silently at Lenard and Logan who had said little ever since he introduced himself. With a sober look Lock shakes his head thinking how in the world he will whip these young men into shape. He was just about to command their attention when a light voice came from behind him.
“Private Lan Haringer reporting sir," a short weedy boy of a man salutes Lock. Lock is almost inspired by this mans enthusiasm. The salute was swift, he was in full armour and the axe on his back gleamed. A man after his own heart to say the least. How he wished this was one of his soldiers to command.
“Red Lancer Commander Lock” Lock gives the same swift and sure salute as before “Private Haringer I was not graced with a forth file. If you would be so kind to tell me the team you have been assigned to?” Locks voice was gruff and solid as always. However his diction was changed due to the fact he acted much gentler towards people not under his command.
“Private Lan Haringer reporting sir," a short weedy boy of a man salutes Lock. Lock is almost inspired by this mans enthusiasm. The salute was swift, he was in full armour and the axe on his back gleamed. A man after his own heart to say the least. How he wished this was one of his soldiers to command.
“Red Lancer Commander Lock” Lock gives the same swift and sure salute as before “Private Haringer I was not graced with a forth file. If you would be so kind to tell me the team you have been assigned to?” Locks voice was gruff and solid as always. However his diction was changed due to the fact he acted much gentler towards people not under his command.
OOC Notes
Maen raised his head as he heard a man address himself as the CO of the Red Lancers. Looking around, he located a small group of people, the individual he had heard being a rather gruff looking fellow. Standing up and slinging 'Gravy' over his shoulder, he walked over towards the group.
Apart from the CO, there was a man who looked to be about as laid back as himself, as well as another who didn't look too pleased about it. The apparent Commanding Officer was talking with a young man at the moment, so Maen decided it best to just wait until they were through. Walking up to them, he put his weight on one foot with his hands resting on his hips. More than a few people had told him that this stance looked rather feminine, but he was comfortable, so he stuck with it.
Apart from the CO, there was a man who looked to be about as laid back as himself, as well as another who didn't look too pleased about it. The apparent Commanding Officer was talking with a young man at the moment, so Maen decided it best to just wait until they were through. Walking up to them, he put his weight on one foot with his hands resting on his hips. More than a few people had told him that this stance looked rather feminine, but he was comfortable, so he stuck with it.
OOC Notes
Lan was corrected about the brute being her commander. He seemed like he was perfect for the job, gruff and sturdy, but she could detect a hint of kindness behind his almost harsh tongue and placid expression.
"I have been assigned under your command as a Red Lancer, sir. I was pulled as a late addition to be granted completion of my first year of combat school and training," she explained to him with as manly a voice as she could muster from her tiny diaphragm. She wanted to give a good first appearance, especially since he seemed so annoyed with the men in front of him. The medical boy seemed to be fine, but the other one...not so much.
"I'm pleased to meet you and look forward to further my training under your guidance."
Just enough to butter myself up, she thought.
"I have been assigned under your command as a Red Lancer, sir. I was pulled as a late addition to be granted completion of my first year of combat school and training," she explained to him with as manly a voice as she could muster from her tiny diaphragm. She wanted to give a good first appearance, especially since he seemed so annoyed with the men in front of him. The medical boy seemed to be fine, but the other one...not so much.
"I'm pleased to meet you and look forward to further my training under your guidance."
Just enough to butter myself up, she thought.
OOC Notes
“Excellent. Although I respect the abilities of range soldiers, I much prefer melee myself. So I am glad I will have someone following the melee path for me to impart my expertise” Lock stopped looking at Lan and turned around to the sound of soft foot steps. The man he recognised as Mean (from his photo in his file) had come closer to the group.
Lock stepped back a couple of steps as he looked at his team in their entirety. While stroking his beard in a rather ruff way, he gives the slightest of smiles. “So this is The Red Lancers? Remember this day well boys, because this is the day you stop being individual soldiers. Instead you are now part of a vital team. Vital because our success could very well mean the difference between this dome’s survival and utter destruction” his voice had a sober tone to it. As if he really believed that The Red Lancers and The Black Wolves teams could and will make a difference. Their was a sense of pride and duty in every word.
Lock stepped back a couple of steps as he looked at his team in their entirety. While stroking his beard in a rather ruff way, he gives the slightest of smiles. “So this is The Red Lancers? Remember this day well boys, because this is the day you stop being individual soldiers. Instead you are now part of a vital team. Vital because our success could very well mean the difference between this dome’s survival and utter destruction” his voice had a sober tone to it. As if he really believed that The Red Lancers and The Black Wolves teams could and will make a difference. Their was a sense of pride and duty in every word.
OOC Notes
"I'm very honored to accept that knowledge," Lan said. Then she followed Lock's gaze to the man walking up to the group whom I assumed to be another member of the team.
“So this is The Red Lancers? Remember this day well boys, because this is the day you stop being individual soldiers. Instead you are now part of a vital team. Vital because our success could very well mean the difference between this dome’s survival and utter destruction," Lock said proudly and surely. Lan looked around her once more at the group that she would be spending so much time with.
It truly was a melting pot. With metalhead walking up, Mr. Cool on the couch and the uptight doctor on top of Lock the giant and little Lana, they seemed to have nothing in common.
How will such a dysfunctional group be able to save Aequitas? she wondered.
"When will we begin our training?" she asked the Commander, eager to learn from someone as seemingly experienced as him.
“So this is The Red Lancers? Remember this day well boys, because this is the day you stop being individual soldiers. Instead you are now part of a vital team. Vital because our success could very well mean the difference between this dome’s survival and utter destruction," Lock said proudly and surely. Lan looked around her once more at the group that she would be spending so much time with.
It truly was a melting pot. With metalhead walking up, Mr. Cool on the couch and the uptight doctor on top of Lock the giant and little Lana, they seemed to have nothing in common.
How will such a dysfunctional group be able to save Aequitas? she wondered.
"When will we begin our training?" she asked the Commander, eager to learn from someone as seemingly experienced as him.
OOC Notes
"Since everybody else feels like saying there name, I might as well." He spoke after that Lan character had started talking about training. Logan's voice still sounded scratchy from last night, cause nobody wants to pull all nighters. He did that back at the academy. And wanted to punch the professor in the face after he complained that Logan had fallen asleep. Those were good days. Logan stood up, yawned, then whipped his dull brown hair - with the faded blue tips that he should have probably gotten brighter - off his eyes. He
"I'm Logan Sargan, AKA Spider. Combat Medic. Apparent XO. Trained in Melee Combat, then in Psychokinesis." He shrugged. He guessed he could play nice for a little. But they should really get to know him now instead of later. "Honored to be a part of the team, but I need some sleep if that is all good." Logan swore he would fall asleep after saying that, but he kept standing.
"I'm Logan Sargan, AKA Spider. Combat Medic. Apparent XO. Trained in Melee Combat, then in Psychokinesis." He shrugged. He guessed he could play nice for a little. But they should really get to know him now instead of later. "Honored to be a part of the team, but I need some sleep if that is all good." Logan swore he would fall asleep after saying that, but he kept standing.
OOC Notes
The uptight doctor was the one to speak. Logan, was his name. And once again, her almost scary ability to read people proved her right. He was her second commanding officer. He didn't seem too bad. She believed that she made it out lucky with her two officers. Hopefully, they would be as bearable as they seemed.
"It's nice to meet you, Executive Logan. My name is Lan Haringer. I specialize in offensive melee combat," she said to him, adjusting her breastplate and holding out her dainty hand for him to shake. That was one bad thing about her that she couldn't hide. She definitely had feminine hands.
"It's nice to meet you, Executive Logan. My name is Lan Haringer. I specialize in offensive melee combat," she said to him, adjusting her breastplate and holding out her dainty hand for him to shake. That was one bad thing about her that she couldn't hide. She definitely had feminine hands.
OOC Notes
Lenard Conner
Lenard rolled his eyes at Logan's sarcastic spiel, but didn't dignify it with a response. He could take crap like that, and had before. Wasn't no business of his if the guy was a whiny ass. The cannoneer just grinned back and turned away- There were more attractive faces to look at.
And if he'd inferred from Lock right, this guy was their medic. Lenard prayed that he would never, ever need the guy's help.
As the other members began to introduce himself, he listened with a certain amount of skepticism. They all sounded like they'd been fighting these tournaments forever.
It wasn't like the surface wasn't dangerous- On the contrary, they were constantly in the same danger that the domes only encountered every so often. But when the Spawn came, they usually hid in the caves and bunkers instead of suicidally trying to push them back. Plenty of people died, either way.
Lenard had fought before, but he was beginning to realize that these people had been fighting their entire lives.
They're going to kill me. Kill me and forget me, soon as I stop being useful. Maybe earlier if they learn I'm a Harvester. Same as a Harvest Town. Fight and fight over them, but when the ore runs out... He was certain of this. It took the grin off his face for a second. If Lenard failed here, both were doomed to be forgotten. So he couldn't tell about his home- only the recruiters knew that, right?
He looked up at the introductions, noting his team members. He gave easier names for his head- Whiny, Gruff, Midget, Stoner. So Whiny was the medic and XO. Gruff was the captain. Midget was a... Melée fighter? Someone, somewhere, must have thought that was funny. Unless he was a mutant. You never knew. Stoner had yet to introduce himself.
Lenard decided to try again, somewhat more subdued by his sudden spike of fear. "Lenard Conner, of..." He bit himself off. Idiot! Domers didn't mention their hometowns when they introduced themselves! That was a Harvester thing! "Mid-range gunner, and grunt. Nice to work with yer." Despite his desire for fame, he found himself hoping that here, at least, he would avoid notice.
OOC Notes
Lan looked to her right as the lazy one presented himself. The way he held himself seemed cocky, arrogant, and fake.
He's hiding something. She thought to herself. She knew all about people hiding things, since she herself hid the biggest secret of them all. What he was hiding though, that was the mystery.
"It's nice too meet you as well...Lenard, it was?" she asked. She contemplated whether she should offer a handshake or not. She only really needed to make an impression on the higher-ups, not fellow grunts with an ego. Maybe she was just being judgmental though. He could really be a nice guy, strong and brave and ready to die protecting his city. But with all the experience she had of sitting quietly and studying people in the background told her otherwise.
Still he was her new teammate, and she really didn't want to start off on the wrong foot with anyone. So she stuck out her slender hand and gave a slight smile.
He's hiding something. She thought to herself. She knew all about people hiding things, since she herself hid the biggest secret of them all. What he was hiding though, that was the mystery.
"It's nice too meet you as well...Lenard, it was?" she asked. She contemplated whether she should offer a handshake or not. She only really needed to make an impression on the higher-ups, not fellow grunts with an ego. Maybe she was just being judgmental though. He could really be a nice guy, strong and brave and ready to die protecting his city. But with all the experience she had of sitting quietly and studying people in the background told her otherwise.
Still he was her new teammate, and she really didn't want to start off on the wrong foot with anyone. So she stuck out her slender hand and gave a slight smile.
OOC Notes
Lock paused for a few seconds trying to answer when the training would begin. The truth was Commander Lock was also in the dark about when training would start. After all this wasn’t no normal team of soldiers. The League of Origins was meant to be none deadly skirmishes. As such these inexperienced soldiers had the luxury to learn from their mistakes in the field of combat.
Lock’s hesitation was met with Logan introducing himself to the rest of The Red Lancers. Lock didn’t know if Logan did this to undermine Locks authority, to buy him sometime to give a proper answer or simply because he was tired after the bloody night before. Either way Lock was glad that Logan had since Logan reminded Lock that Logan was indeed trained in basic melee. Lock made note not to view his second in command as a mere medic.
“As do we all after last night. But the sooner we are done with this briefing the sooner we can get some much needed rest. Just hang on a bit longer”. Not wanting to be rude to Lan, Lock turns to him and continues to answer his question. “As for training. The exact time has yet to be decided. However when the team is not in combat or ordered to rest, it is at my digression on when and how often to train. Either way I very much doubt we will see combat before a proper rest due to last night. And I would much prefer everyone to be rested before I train the team as well. As such expect a day to rest up. Use it wisely mind you. For my training sessions shall not be lax” Lock gave a deep but brief chuckle. After which his face turn quite serious.
Lock’s hesitation was met with Logan introducing himself to the rest of The Red Lancers. Lock didn’t know if Logan did this to undermine Locks authority, to buy him sometime to give a proper answer or simply because he was tired after the bloody night before. Either way Lock was glad that Logan had since Logan reminded Lock that Logan was indeed trained in basic melee. Lock made note not to view his second in command as a mere medic.
“As do we all after last night. But the sooner we are done with this briefing the sooner we can get some much needed rest. Just hang on a bit longer”. Not wanting to be rude to Lan, Lock turns to him and continues to answer his question. “As for training. The exact time has yet to be decided. However when the team is not in combat or ordered to rest, it is at my digression on when and how often to train. Either way I very much doubt we will see combat before a proper rest due to last night. And I would much prefer everyone to be rested before I train the team as well. As such expect a day to rest up. Use it wisely mind you. For my training sessions shall not be lax” Lock gave a deep but brief chuckle. After which his face turn quite serious.
OOC Notes
Logan swore he was going to face palm himself. He had dealt with far worse back at the academy, but these guys were a bunch of jokes. The one called Lan looked so damn small to be a dude, but then again he was skinnier than most women. So he should probably shut up. But it was that Leanard character. This guy was a complete moron. Logan could read most people, cause being Psychokinesis had to have some benefits. Leanard came off as a glory hunter. The way he didn't even bother to signify that he had even heard him was one reason. The other was the fact that he was clearly not from around here. How that made him into a glory hunter was the fact that Logan could see in Leanard's eyes that he wanted to be recognized. Why he wanted that, Logan would never know. Logan would rather sit in the corner and sleep. So, Logan labeled him as the glory seeker. And that made him easy to understand.
Logan smiled, finding a way to play right into his own hand "Nice to meet you, Leanard of." Logan knew teasing the grunts would come back to bite him in the ass, but for now he wanted to have some fun. Besides, all he had to do was hurt him slightly anywhere. And the nightmares of Leanards mind would begin. Happy with that thought, Logan flicked away the cigarette.
Logan smiled, finding a way to play right into his own hand "Nice to meet you, Leanard of." Logan knew teasing the grunts would come back to bite him in the ass, but for now he wanted to have some fun. Besides, all he had to do was hurt him slightly anywhere. And the nightmares of Leanards mind would begin. Happy with that thought, Logan flicked away the cigarette.
OOC Notes
Maen had pretty much picked up how everyone ticked by this point. The CO was one of those gruff but lovable fellows he had seen a few times in the past, strict and to-the-point, but had a side he wasn't all too open about. The XO was perhaps Maen's least favorite so far, being a bit too lone-wolf for his tastes. The one that apparently was pissing everyone else off was the one he hoped to make quick friends of as he seemed upbeat, like himself. As for the smaller guy, Lan, Maen felt rather odd around him, as if the usual natural connection that all guys felt didn't apply to him. It was probably just due to him being smaller.
After everyone had introduced themselves and the CO had given his little speech, Maen felt it was his turn. "Maen Raboc ready for action, sir. Long-range stuff is my.... stuff." And so it was that his first sentence already let slip his tendency to not think his sentences through.
After everyone had introduced themselves and the CO had given his little speech, Maen felt it was his turn. "Maen Raboc ready for action, sir. Long-range stuff is my.... stuff." And so it was that his first sentence already let slip his tendency to not think his sentences through.
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The League of Origins: Out Of Character (OOC)
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League Of Origins - Related Information
by wolf1992 on Thu Sep 15, 2011 11:02 am
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on Thu Sep 15, 2011 11:07 am
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League Of Origins - Related Information
Most recent OOC posts in The League of Origins
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
It would seem my last post never was submitted to this forum. Weird. Anyway, to recap it:
As all participants probably have guessed, this roleplay is officially dead.
It was a pleasure while it lasted; unfortunately, it didn't last long.
As all participants probably have guessed, this roleplay is officially dead.
It was a pleasure while it lasted; unfortunately, it didn't last long.
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
I'm waiting for Maen to reply to me. Unless he has and I just didn't notice.
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
Varyar wrote:Hey everyone... I'm sorry to say this, but I'm leaving this RP. I'm at the end of the semester in school, and things are tough. I can barely keep up with my old RP, I won't be able to continue to ropleplay this one. I want to thank you all, this has been very fun, the League of Origins universe is awesome and amazingly creative, and everyone interacts in a wonderful way. I'm sure I'll regret this decision, and I might be coming back here from time to time, but I can't keep up with two RPs, at least not with enough frequency. I'm chosing to stay with the other one only because I started it first, and it would be unfair to leave it. Anyway, thanks a lot, I love you all, don't hate me forever, peace!
Oh, and give Aaron an honorable death... Dying in the fire, alongside with Betty...
That's too bad. It was a pleasure RP'ing with you.
On another note: People, we really need some activity or this RP is going to die...
It's quite a long time since any activity has been posted, so it would be nice if you'd at least tell us here in the OOC why our roleplay has slowed down so drastically.
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
Hey everyone... I'm sorry to say this, but I'm leaving this RP. I'm at the end of the semester in school, and things are tough. I can barely keep up with my old RP, I won't be able to continue to ropleplay this one. I want to thank you all, this has been very fun, the League of Origins universe is awesome and amazingly creative, and everyone interacts in a wonderful way. I'm sure I'll regret this decision, and I might be coming back here from time to time, but I can't keep up with two RPs, at least not with enough frequency. I'm chosing to stay with the other one only because I started it first, and it would be unfair to leave it. Anyway, thanks a lot, I love you all, don't hate me forever, peace!
Oh, and give Aaron an honorable death... Dying in the fire, alongside with Betty...
Oh, and give Aaron an honorable death... Dying in the fire, alongside with Betty...
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
It would be nice to hear some update from you guys, seeing as it has been over a week since the last activity besides mine.
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
Just to let you guys know, now that we've moved on a bit I intend to post again. However, this week has been a bit busy for me (which is made even worse because there are some things more pleasurable activities that I'm missing out on because of that), and so I'll be getting it up when I can. Probably before the weekend, I'll be able to sit down and post.
Here's looking forward to getting this combat started! (Within a few more posts anyway)
Here's looking forward to getting this combat started! (Within a few more posts anyway)
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
Sorry I haven't been writing much in here lately. I will have my next post up by tomorrow (unless something comes in my way).
If there is anyone that has a hard time keeping up or have something on their mind (thinking about this roleplay) then please tell me, I hope we can keep this roleplay alive for a lot of time. And remember peeps; now that we have made the introductions it is only going to be more fun doing this roleplay ;D
Keep it up everybody
If there is anyone that has a hard time keeping up or have something on their mind (thinking about this roleplay) then please tell me, I hope we can keep this roleplay alive for a lot of time. And remember peeps; now that we have made the introductions it is only going to be more fun doing this roleplay ;D
Keep it up everybody
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
Hydrall wrote:So should we timeskip to then now? I'd prefer this stay alive...
Well, just write your post as if it covered the whole day prior to the battle.
As I wrote before, I've really been busy this weekend, so my post is still not ready to be posted. I will find the time to finish it tonight and post it.
EDIT: Post is UP, UP, UP, UP ^^
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
I see our daily activity has gone down quite a bit. You guys already suffering from writer's block?
I am currently writing my next post, although I am quite busy these days attending a workshop thingy in the other end of the country... therefore, I have only managed to write part of my post.
I have tried to contact people regarding some interaction if they wanted to do so during our time skip (forward to the pre-battle prep).
It would be nice if people would meet once again outside the briefing room at about 10.30 PM (by order of the General).
I am currently writing my next post, although I am quite busy these days attending a workshop thingy in the other end of the country... therefore, I have only managed to write part of my post.
I have tried to contact people regarding some interaction if they wanted to do so during our time skip (forward to the pre-battle prep).
It would be nice if people would meet once again outside the briefing room at about 10.30 PM (by order of the General).
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
Fine by me, Aaron is sleeping like a baby anyway. Burning stuff kinda does that to him. So let's get to killing! Oh, I mean, harmlessly disarm.
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
SasoriRinku wrote:In response to Blackwolt,
Ririn is actually good for the night. I know he talked about going back and getting his stuff, but I don't think I actually need make another post for that. Consider me ready to move on. (I'm actually surprised that I've gotten by on only two posts so far...)
For the rest of you, hop to it! I'm ready to get to the butt-kicking part. And by that I mean, watching the rest of you do the butt-kicking while I stand back and laugh.
Just for your info, Phyllis will hold you to your word and have your character literally laughing his ass off.
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
In response to Blackwolt,
Ririn is actually good for the night. I know he talked about going back and getting his stuff, but I don't think I actually need make another post for that. Consider me ready to move on. (I'm actually surprised that I've gotten by on only two posts so far...)
For the rest of you, hop to it! I'm ready to get to the butt-kicking part. And by that I mean, watching the rest of you do the butt-kicking while I stand back and laugh.
Ririn is actually good for the night. I know he talked about going back and getting his stuff, but I don't think I actually need make another post for that. Consider me ready to move on. (I'm actually surprised that I've gotten by on only two posts so far...)
For the rest of you, hop to it! I'm ready to get to the butt-kicking part. And by that I mean, watching the rest of you do the butt-kicking while I stand back and laugh.
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
We'll do as wolf proposed, if any of you want to end whatever your character is doing right now, please inform us and start working on your posts. If we don't hear anything from any of you before the end of the week (be it pm. or here in the ooc), we will jump around 30 hours in time of the RP.
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
JokerofSpades wrote:Disarm hm...
You mean, like, chopping off their arms? Sounds kinda harsh...
XD
Disarm as in remove their weapons from them. I never said anything about making them handicapped for life :)
Things are going a bit slow with my next post, these last couple of days having been quite hectic.
As I said before, I propose that we move through this next day rather quickly and get to the battle preparations. I know some of your characters are not asleep yet (but most are).
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
Disarm hm...
You mean, like, chopping off their arms? Sounds kinda harsh...
XD
You mean, like, chopping off their arms? Sounds kinda harsh...
XD
Re: [OOC] The League of Origins
Arctic Fury wrote:The majority of the weapons I'm seeing people using seem to be quite lethal. I thought the league games were a non-lethal thing?
For the sake of humanity ranged people will be expected to use paralyzing or otherwise non-lethal rounds, while melee soldiers will be expected only to disarm an opponent. I hope people will remember this when we enter battle ^^
