Modern War of the Broken World ((O//A))

Should we make this into a Guild?

Yes Ma'am!	34.8%	[ 8 ]
Maybe...	30.4%	[ 7 ]
Nah...	21.7%	[ 5 ]
Visitor +1	13.0%	[ 3 ]
Total Votes:			[ 23 ]

[ElementGold]

((OOC @ Everyone: So I feel as though the posts with the Battle torn and Rebels are getting a bit 'lost' here.
Because originally, JaK was talking to Mia and Mia responded. But now JaK has followed Jason to his camp and is not addressing Mia back.
So for awhile, I'm just going to have Mia go her own way...make her way back to the Encampment, and then move on from there possibly into enemy territory.

To answer Pixy's questions, there is also a Battle Torn that never showed up either.
And there was someone that wanted to join the Guild that I was making for this role-play, they joined that, but never joined the ACTUAL role-play here...so here pretty soon I'm going to do some house cleaning. biggrin

Lastly, this is off-topic, but I go back to Blast Camp here on Oct.6th for a Night match.
Got my new ACU's in, so Mia might have a new look here soon if I manage to get any good pictures while I'm out <333

But who all wants this place to become a Guild? ))

[ElementGold]

As she watched the Rebel walk away, Mia figured that she had been too quiet or that the man had been way to lost in his thoughts to hear her. Still, she finished fussing with her M4 for just a moment longer before she looked around and realized that she needed to find some shelter.

Heading back to the camp with the dead bodies, Mia was able to scrounge up what supplies the Rebels had not taken for themselves. She was lucky to find a few MRE's, a thermal blanket, and even one sleeping bag which the smaller Templar had been carrying around with him.
It smelled a tiny bit like blood, and Mia cringed.
But, while the days may have been hot, the nights could get cold...and if she was to try and find her Platoon, she would need something snug to wrap herself in.

She figured that for now, she would not be able to make much progress in the dark. That, and, she was under-geared. She did not have light or night vision, and so, her best bet would be to make her way to the abandoned buildings that she had been trying to run for before and try and rest before dawn came.
She moved slow and cautiously...and she could still hear gunfire in the distance. Her mind was full of many things as she made her way to the abandoned buildings bit-by-bit. The first thing she thought about was her fiance...wondering where she might be at, if she was even alive, and she thought about how she might manage to find her in this chaos. Secondly, she looked back on the day, and for some odd reason she thought about Alice.

A part of her was proud of herself for having almost bested the Templar, but then a part of her was full of hate and anger for the damage the woman had done to her. She really hoped that the bullet hole she had put in the girl left a scar and that the Templar never forget who could have easily picked her off,"Damn woman...wonder where she is now?"

((OOC: felt like doing a long post for some odd reason. Not the best and most detailed, but it will do for awhile. mrgreen ))

[Pixy Muffin]

✛✛✛ċömmänd sërġëänt mäjör älïċë rëpörtïnġ!✛✛✛

✙You think your tough.
✙You don't know what tough is.
✙Don't cry too hard now.
✙It's just some enemy fire.

Alice chuckled and took another drink. There was nothing better than trading war stories, it was something she enjoyed doing. For there were a lot of people who hadn't survived such battery and survived. But before she started she stated easily as her eyes seemed to stare of into space. "My father, hit me for the fun of it," she stated simply before snapping back into reality and shrugged it off. No point in thinking of the past. It didn't really help much of her future.

A lot of scars, meant a lot of stories, however, she was surprised that the Commandant didn't ask of the scar on her face. That was the one most asked about and she normally just told them to ******** off and mind their own damned business.

"Not really all that interesting," she chuckled as her eyes moved over to the Commandant. "Just battle wounds from idiots mostly." Which was true. As much as she was a brute on the field, she got most of her wounds from saving other morons who didn't know what they were doing. However there was one story that she did have in mind. The cut like scars that covered a majority of her back and chest.

"Allow me to think more on this subject before I can say something that might befit a Commandant's interest." Closing her eyes for a brief moment she tried to think back to one of her more interesting stories. One of which happened to be when she was on tour in Japan. "I got one, when I was over in Japan, it was my squad and I. Doing the normal mission. Our objective was simple, find the highest ranking officer in the encampment and kill him. Simple yes? Non,

The neglected to tell us that the encampment was more than just Japanese soldiers. They had somehow recruited idiots that strapped bombs to their chests. It was hell when we were found out inside, because it wasn't just bombs that were going off. People were exploding left and right. Half of my squad, got blew up by them. And I was taken captive. Just like the others that had been left alive. Taking their time, they tortured us for days. Trying to get information out of us." She took another drink and laughed quietly. "They had started with a Bamboo Torture, although I had to watch my friend die from it. I have to admit it was a clever idea. Shoving the bamboo beneath their finger nails and allowing it to grow, splitting their fingers apart as it grew into their skin. The first time I had to kill one of my own..." Her words trailed off as she started to hear the screams of her soldier in pain.

Screams echoed in her head as her smile faded away. She had been able to see a lot of things, but that by far was the worst she had ever seen. Watching one of her own men trying to sever his fingers in order to keep the Bamboo from growing up into his arm. Nevertheless she shook the images away and sighed. "They used the Bamboo on me, but it wasn't very long before they just started to beat me. Using sticks and wooden swords. Although it hurt like hell, I was glad they didn't continue with the Bamboo. Then again, the didn't really beat on me for long before they tied me to a post and ripped the back of my shirt off. It isn't normal for this sort of torture...then again I think they were just bored. Either way they used whips and knives, cutting and lashing.

After they were done beating me, they left me out in the sun. They watched me as I just baked in the sun. My wounds becoming more problems than anything else. The bastards even went to the length of crucifying me to a tree. Talk about something painful. While I was in the tree they would whip at me again. Throwing rocks anything basically. Thinking that my pain would cause my tongue to loosen. So very wrong they were." Alice took another drink. Thinking about all of this stuff, was starting to bring back hard memories of watching her Squad members die in terrible manners.

"After a while though, they just dropped me in stagnant swamp water. The day after that, I was the only one left alive, and reinforcements arrived later in the evening. When they had scheduled to fill my stomach with water, and stand on plank over my stomach. And basically jumping on it, forcing water from my mouth but also it would have killed me. But I was saved before they could shove the hose in my mouth."

Alice glanced over at the Commandant and then at the cigar in her hands. "Do you have another one of those?" She wasn't much of a smoker, but talking about such things, made her want some sort of smoke inside of her lungs. As if it was going to get the thoughts to leave her mind.

✙You see this scar.
✙It is what makes me tough
✙Oh, you want to know the story?
✙******** you.

✠Location: Underground Encampment
✠Status: Patched up. Reminiscing
✠Surrounding Hostiles: Neija
✠OOC: I had to do a little bit of research for this one i must admit lol i wanted things to be accurate hehe ]

[WarmApplePaii]

☭ C o m m a n d a n t N e i j a K o v a l s k a ☭
////////////T h e N a m e I s C o m m a n d e r T o Y o u.
////////////////////////////////////////H a l f T h e B a t t l e I s B e i n g R U S S I A N S p e t s n a z ∫ ◝ ◌ ● ◌ ● ◌ ● ◌ ●
//////—————————————————————————————————

////////////////////////"O u t O f V o d k a ? N o w I ' m P i s s e d !"

//////—————————————————————————————————
CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN! BEFORE THE SAIL RIPS!//////////GASP FOR AIR!//////////ABANDON ALL SHIPS!//////////
CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN! BEFORE THE SAIL RIPS!//////////GASP FOR AIR!//////////ABANDON ALL SHIPS!//////////
CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN! BEFORE THE SAIL RIPS!//////////GASP FOR AIR!//////////ABANDON ALL SHIPS!//////////

Neija pondered what the girl had said, The Japanese huh? Neija shook her head. What was really going on with her superiors, the Japanese were suppose to be on our side, nonetheless, she handed the girl a cigar then leaned back against the seat once more, The torture story was actually kinda similar to her own. She exhaled a large amount of smoke and prepared for a little history simply because you must keep up to date.

"I have story, When Syria had Revolution back in 2011-2012. Russia supplied arms to President Bashar Al-Assad and his Military to put Revolution fire out. Back then, i was grunt in Russian Army. The president thought we were supplying Rebels and captured us. I made friend with Japanese girl there, Xian. She was owner of this Katana i posses today actually."

She pulled the sword out of the hilt and set it across the table. The weapon's condition was somewhat poor. The sword held together as if it were brand new, but the blade had multiple scratches and scars of its own.

"They mostly picked off the unit one by one, By time weekend was over, it was just Myself and Xian They kept talking about 'Crucifying.' fools must of thought i was American. I was only Seventeen when i watched poor soul mutilated like that. They took turns with her when President wasn't looking. That girl never told them though. So they cut throat with her own weapon. They took good look at me. They bind my hands together and kick me to the floor, put me on hands and knees. One in front, one in back. Then just when they were about to get...Comfortable.(I'm not going further to detail, the R word, you all know it.)"

Neija snapped her fingers.

"They were dead. ALPA group shot one of the men, and while the other one looked around frantically. One of them Dropped from the ceiling and stabbed man right in Abdomen. They were sent to retrieve missing Army members, i was gone six days. They cut me free. I was only Seventeen, I cried and that's when they found out i lied about my age to get in. But they didn't tell General. On my back, you'll see scars, however two stick out the most. One was from when they cut me with Xian's sword. The other was a torture mark. But Till then, i knew where i wanted to go when i ascended the ranks. So i tried for ALPA group Seven Years later. Made it. So, here i am."

She knew she had to tell someone, she shrugged it off though, she has already shed the tears to match how horrible it was in a Syrian Camp. She won't do it again. She took another drink and sat back again, she was rather calm about it.


(OOC: On a happier note. . . . . . .LOL I forgot what i was gonna say, i don't know about the guild thing. Would this roleplay be in the Guild, like we have to go to the guild to roleplay, or would the thread still be here so we don't have to navigate back and fourth between Guild and Threads?)

Neija's Theme:Asking Alexandria - I was once, Possibly, Maybe, Perhaps a Cowboy King.
Neija's Weapon: SKS Single Shot (Assault/Sniper Purpose) Rifle/Interchangable Hybrid Sight/12X Ballistics Scope(All purpose Ranges) Bayonet/Screwdriver, .44 Magnum/Speed Reload/Curved Sword(Katana)

[Pixy Muffin]

✛✛✛ċömmänd sërġëänt mäjör älïċë rëpörtïnġ!✛✛✛

✙You think your tough.
✙You don't know what tough is.
✙Don't cry too hard now.
✙It's just some enemy fire.

With a sigh Alice shook her head. "Guess we have both had it bad eh?" She wasn't going to say that there was good reason to believe that the Japanese were in alliance with the Battle Torn. Being so far away from the rest of the Templars, and so close to the US. It was only necessary to have suspicions.

However, after a few encrypted messages, the French had evidence to prove Japan of its treachery. They were going to keep it to themselves, Alice wasn't even supposed to talk about her tours in Japan. It was the only reason she had been captured and tortured, they knew that their messages to the US had been found out. It was amusing to her how things seemed to get more and more complicated.

"You are a strong woman Commandant," Alice said softly as she took another drink, however this time pouring it in the glass and sipping at it. "It makes me almost jealous," she admitted with a grin.

Thinking of how the scars must have looked she let her eyes go back straight and she drank the rest of what was in her cup. Feeling the burn of the liquor slide down her throat and into her stomach, resting there, making the rest of her body warm. "Ever been hit by mortar fire?" It may have been a random question, but she was curious as to what all the Commandant had been through.

✙You see this scar.
✙It is what makes me tough
✙Oh, you want to know the story?
✙******** you.

✠Location: Underground Encampment
✠Status: Patched up. Reminiscing
✠Surrounding Hostiles: Neija
✠OOC: Muhahah I make my own drama in the need of longer posts lol hope tis okay xD ]

[Sasokata]

Master Sergeant Jason Conner

Highly Trained Special Forces Sniper
STALKER Platoon
.50 Caliber Anti-Materiel Sniper Rifle
One hell of a bad day

H e a l t h
███████████████ █ 100%


A m m u n i t i o n
██████████████ ██ 80%


C u r r e n t W e a p o n
███████████████▌▌


"...I was made to kill..."



Jason sat alone in the room and let out a hearty sigh as he pulled a dirty bottle of water out of a box and sipped it. The water tasted worse than it should have but he had several purification tablets in it. Might as well save tons for the long haul. After all Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance. He watched the door and shook his head before closing his eyes, his left hand tightly gripping the grip of his Barrett Assault Rifle as the dreams entered his mind swiftly.

"Headquarters says there's a cell in these mountains somewhere. Just stay low, take them out. No speaking of this after we're done. Got it?" He whispered as a small group of men wearing DCU Camouflage uniforms with Kevlar Helmets, Patrol Caps, and Boonie Hats creeped along the ridgeline of a large Afghan Mountainside. The men nodded and slowly dropped down into a hole, one by one. Checking each corner making sure nobody was near them. Jason dropped down and hit the ground with a light tap, his boots making a large indention in the sand that had dropped down the black cavern. "NVGs active.." He whispered as he lowered a bulky camera-looking object down from his helmet, illuminating the black cave in light green and white. He raised the standard issue M4A1 Assault Rifle to his shoulder and slowly creeped through the tunnel system. He heard snaps coming from down the other side of the tunnel where the team split in two but ignored it until he heard the obvious crack of a Soviet made Assault Rifle. He winced and looked around frantically, seeing several bright white figures emerge from the corner of the cave, muzzle flashes lighting up the NVG Device almost every half second. Jason dived into a small crevice and peeked over, the men had no idea anyone was there. As far as they knew there were only those. He smirked and laid down, pointing the rifle up, squeezing the trigger once. Letting loose a long burst of 5.56 rounds impaling each man until they fell with a thud, their rifles hitting the rock with a metallic clang. He looked down and shook his head, One man was breathing faintly while the medic desperately tried to help, but with only NVGs medical help was almost impossible. He cursed under his breath and let the empty rifle fall to his side as he drew the Beretta M9 from it's drop-leg holster, suppressed of course. Illuminated sights with radioactive tritium. "This didn't go as expected. More than we thought.." He whispered as he crouch-walked through the caverns, empty. All that was left were a large stockpile of weapons and ammunition. When the hostiles heard the Rifles they retreated. Gone now. He cursed out loud and walked back through the caverns until he came across a dangling rope. He grabbed hold of it and slowly climbed it, peeking his head out, nothing but the all too familiar Afghan Desert. "X-Ray, this is Ghost, we lost them. Send in some fire to collapse this cavern. It's not too deep. Just send an Apache or Fighter to hit it." He said over the radio as he looked over a rock. Several men covered in blood emerged, wearing the DCU camouflage like he was. He ran towards them, his Combat boots kicking the sand up as the weight pulled him down. "Roger Ghost. Sending in a Tomcat armed with cluster bombs. Danger Close Over." A voice said through the radio. Jason's eyes went wide and picked up his pace as the rest of his men desperately ran, wounded and not, all running on their own. Danger Close was never a good thing to hear. Ever. They heard something in the distance breaking the sound barrier. Jason's eyes went wide once again as the dark gray underbelly of an F-14 Tomcat screamed past as it dropped three cluster bombs down, creating a long string of constant explosions that towered over the small unit. The Interceptor immediately made a vertical climb and barreled over, unleashing a long line of 20mm Cannon rounds into the running men on the other side of the mountain. The small Unit could hear the sounds of the large cannon rounds impacting the mountainside and the scream of the fighter overhead as they ran, limped, and almost crawled across the desert floor to the Rendezvous point which was a few klicks out.


OOC: Just killing some time with that one. Anywho, that came out of a long story I'm writing. Any good? I mean I cut out parts to save time but the general idea.


"...They never taught me to stop..."

[WarmApplePaii]

☭ C o m m a n d a n t N e i j a K o v a l s k a ☭
////////////T h e N a m e I s C o m m a n d e r T o Y o u.
////////////////////////////////////////H a l f T h e B a t t l e I s B e i n g R U S S I A N S p e t s n a z ∫ ◝ ◌ ● ◌ ● ◌ ● ◌ ●
//////—————————————————————————————————

////////////////////////"O u t O f V o d k a ? N o w I ' m P i s s e d !"

//////—————————————————————————————————
CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN! BEFORE THE SAIL RIPS!//////////GASP FOR AIR!//////////ABANDON ALL SHIPS!//////////
CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN! BEFORE THE SAIL RIPS!//////////GASP FOR AIR!//////////ABANDON ALL SHIPS!//////////
CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN! BEFORE THE SAIL RIPS!//////////GASP FOR AIR!//////////ABANDON ALL SHIPS!//////////

Neija shrugged her shoulders, give or take there was a few times she'd been pushed to the front lines where it seems overwhelming with Mortar fire. But she's not been through a lot. Being in the earlier years of the Army she experienced most of her close calls. Now in the Special Forces, it's like she left her physical body and became something unseeable with human eyes. This was a metaphor of course, but missions hardly went sideways

"Da, my younger years were filled with share of close calls. Mortar Fire, Airstrikes. Hell, SMAW's or American RPG i like to call them, were big too. But all of those things changed after i was recruited into ALPA group. Of course we have a mission that falters and goes sideways. But hardly escalates larger then Firefights."

Neija glanced at the bottle, it was half gone from the looks of it. And already explained so much in a little time.

"With you being Grunt on Battlefield, well. Ex-grunt. The question seems self-explanatory, Da?"

(Its Cool :3)

Neija's Theme:Asking Alexandria - I was once, Possibly, Maybe, Perhaps a Cowboy King.
Neija's Weapon: SKS Single Shot (Assault/Sniper Purpose) Rifle/Interchangable Hybrid Sight/12X Ballistics Scope(All purpose Ranges) Bayonet/Screwdriver, .44 Magnum/Speed Reload/Curved Sword(Katana)

[Cracker JaKx]

((Great post Sasakota. About me not hearing her, whoopsie on my part. I'll probably edit in that I didn't hear her over the crunch of my boots. Good luck Mia! Have you ever thought of Milsim on base? It's pretty fun and a great way to keep active, practice, and have fun with friends. They have both kinds here at Lewis.))

[Sasokata]

OOC: I retired a couple years back, but I was an MP at Fort Hood for a long while so I kept active daily hahaha. If ya want a formal introduction (Don't care for being called Sasokata) the name is Staff Sergeant Kris! United States Army 89th Military Police Brigade Hooah!

[Pixy Muffin]

✛✛✛ċömmänd sërġëänt mäjör älïċë rëpörtïnġ!✛✛✛

✙You think your tough.
✙You don't know what tough is.
✙Don't cry too hard now.
✙It's just some enemy fire.

"Ah yeah, mortar fire is something I'm very familiar with," she said with a laugh. For her small body, the very small amount of alchohal she had already ingested was starting to take a little effect over her. "Imagine it going off right beside you. Watching the person beside you blow up and then one second later you are laying on your back, in mud the color of blood. Shrapnel all in your body. Talk about something painful. Not to mention not being able to move." Her laughter rang out when she lifted her sleeve on her right arm to show multiple scars of different shapes and sizes.

"A lot of people call me reckless, some even go the extent to call me stupid. But at least I can say I survived."

✙You see this scar.
✙It is what makes me tough
✙Oh, you want to know the story?
✙******** you.

✠Location: Underground Encampment
✠Status: Patched up. Reminiscing
✠Surrounding Hostiles: Neija
✠OOC: ]

[Sasokata]

Master Sergeant Jason Conner

Highly Trained Special Forces Sniper
STALKER Platoon
.50 Caliber Anti-Materiel Sniper Rifle
One hell of a bad day

H e a l t h
███████████████ █ 100%


A m m u n i t i o n
██████████████ ██ 80%


C u r r e n t W e a p o n
███████████████▌▌


"...I was made to kill..."



As the Unit trudged across the desert floor the sound of salvation was heard, the sound of a CH-47 Chinook. The two-rotor helicopter landed and a small group of men poured from the back, covering all sides with their shortened CAR-15 Rifles as the others rushed towards the wounded group. Jason let go of the man who he was holding as the medic grabbed hold of him and started to walk the bloody man to the Helicopter. "Those bombs were a little too close for comfort don't you think?" He said between heavy breaths as his boots hit the metal door of the Helicopter, slapping the metal as he walked to one of the many jump seats then sat down. The pilot looked back at him and nodded as the door closed and a bright red light illuminated. "Sorry about that. We know this area has several Soviet era fighters and interceptors in the area. We saw this as our opening so we dropped the load. Nothing personal Staff Sergeant." The man said with a short laugh. Jason shook his head and looked back towards the Mark 19 Automatic Grenade Launcher on the door then sighed. The Mission didn't go according to plan. He'd play hell attempting to get the Commanding Officers to believe his story. But the Debrief should have been a bit easier than planned. He let out a groan and pulled out a long cigar from his arm pocket and lit it with the bright silver Zippo lighter with a Special Forces and Airborne Tab displayed on the front. He took a long puff of the cigar and slammed his fist on the side of the Helicopter as it zipped through Hostile territory to the Landing Zone at a large firebase. He would then link up with a C-130 Hercules and head to Fort Bragg North Carolina for a debrief. Eventually being sent back into Afghanistan at a later date. "God damn it! How the hell did we ******** this up?!" He yelled, the cigar still resting between his teeth as he stood up, looking at the wounded men. "Sarge..Ramirez saw someone and yelled to stop. That's when the rifles went off and everyone scattered. It was the new guys' fault. Not ours." One of the men said with a grunt as he held his arm tightly, the white cloth around his arm slowly becoming stained red. Jason looked at the man with a death glare as he took another puff of the cigar. "We are a ******** team! One man fails, WE ALL FAIL! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT CORPORAL?!" He screamed as he walked towards the man, shoving his face within inches of his. The Corporal looked the Staff Sergeant in the eyes and nodded quickly. Nobody really liked Staff Sergeant Jason but he was duty minded. In a Special Forces Platoon. One man does the work of a team. The entire team acts as one. If one fails. They all fail. That was the most simplistic explanation of the operation.

Jason quickly woke up from his dream, remembering the men who he lost on that day, back in 1998 in Afghanistan. Years before there was even a war. That's what the Special Forces did well, they went into a country before anyone knew they were there, conduct search and destroy missions, clear the area so the regulars could come in and sweep over the country. Simplistic, but effective. "Son of a b***h..It's too damn early to wake up.." He muttered as he pulled another cigarette out of his pocket and lit it with the lighter he had held so dearly. He rarely used it purely because he couldn't find any lighter fluid, most of it was used to ignite small fires and things like that. The lighter looked beat to hell but it still worked. That was all that mattered.


OOC: .....


"...They never taught me to stop..."

[WarmApplePaii]

☭ C o m m a n d a n t N e i j a K o v a l s k a ☭
////////////T h e N a m e I s C o m m a n d e r T o Y o u.
////////////////////////////////////////H a l f T h e B a t t l e I s B e i n g R U S S I A N S p e t s n a z ∫ ◝ ◌ ● ◌ ● ◌ ● ◌ ●
//////—————————————————————————————————

////////////////////////"O u t O f V o d k a ? N o w I ' m P i s s e d !"

//////—————————————————————————————————
CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN! BEFORE THE SAIL RIPS!//////////GASP FOR AIR!//////////ABANDON ALL SHIPS!//////////
CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN! BEFORE THE SAIL RIPS!//////////GASP FOR AIR!//////////ABANDON ALL SHIPS!//////////
CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN! BEFORE THE SAIL RIPS!//////////GASP FOR AIR!//////////ABANDON ALL SHIPS!//////////

Neija raised her eyebrow towards the girl's every comment. "This is either her getting it out of system, or she's drunk." Neija poured another glass and slammed it back once more. She put the weapon she put on the table back into the holster on her thigh and set her elbows on the table, she uncrossed her legs and leaned forward.

"Sounds like shrapnel is messing with your brain."

She replied, squinting her eyes.

"You okay? Looks like Frenchwomen's light drinker."

(OOC: gah i rushed this post all to hell. I keep getting distracted so i just threw one up)

Neija's Theme:Asking Alexandria - I was once, Possibly, Maybe, Perhaps a Cowboy King.
Neija's Weapon: SKS Single Shot (Assault/Sniper Purpose) Rifle/Interchangable Hybrid Sight/12X Ballistics Scope(All purpose Ranges) Bayonet/Screwdriver, .44 Magnum/Speed Reload/Curved Sword(Katana)

[Cracker JaKx]

Name: JaK Stryker
Location: Helicopter clearing


The air blew slightly against JaK's neck as he had a staredown with the soldiers. The one he had his gun to had stopped struggling, as it might agitate his captor. The circle of men closed in around the two, and eventually jeering and cries of "Fight! Fight!" rose up from the crowd. Wanting to keep everyone off his back, he kept the pistol at the ready. He wouldn't need to use it, but it had a great intimidation factor.
"ALLRIGHT! Listen up!" His voice carried over the crowd and they fell silent. JaK smiled. "I'm going to guess that you guys want a show, right?" There were cheers. "Now I want answers from this guy. Judging by the way you ladies are acting, you want to see the foreigner's a** to be kicked. Well on the contrary, that's not gonna happen."

His eyes scanned the crowd for anyone with weapons. They didn't appear to be armed, and they were wanting a fight. It seemed that the Private was an a** every day, and someone was needed to shut him up. JaK would ablige, but only if there were rules. He wasn't a complete barbarian.
"This is going to be a somewhat clean fight. No assistance, no guns, no blades, and no bullshit. Got it?" The troops murmered in agreement. JaK bent down to the level of the Private. "You better play fair." He hissed through his teeth. He pushed his victim down onto the ground, and before he could get up, pulled off the slide and ejected the magazine of his pistol. He eyed his opponent.

The group was deathly silent now, with only the soft crunch of boots as the fighters circled eachother. This soldier was far too cocky, and he had made the worst mistake he could have: dropping his stance. His legs were wide and his knees were flexed. A arm around the torso and an elbow to the knee was enough to set the crowd mad. They were hooting and hollering, and some money was being exchanged as the Private writhed in pain. His kneecap was probably broken, and he hastily got up and swung a Haymaker at the Rebel's head. JaK just bobbed down and hit him with a jab to the ribcage. This was just a test hit, to see weather or not it was his weak spot. It was soft, so JaK would aim his next blows there.

The dust swirled as each was hit, with JaK being hit in the gut and in the chest. The Rebel faked slowness in getting up off the dirt, and this is when the showboating Private turned around and had the audience cheer. Bad move. In a flash, JaK had him on the ground in a sleeper hold, with his arm positioned under his Adam's apple and the other locked on top of his head, pushing down. He finally passed out after fifteen seconds, and JaK tapped him three times on the chest to make sure he was gone. He didn't want to kill the guy, but he did want him to not try to pick fights again.

The entire crowd was just standing there silently. The look of horror on their faces described it all. Their champion was defeated by an outsider. JaK dusted himself off and adressed the crowd.

"I beat this man fair and square. Does anyone want to join him?"

There were no hands raised, no cries of vengeance. Unbeknownst to JaK, the Private was already awake, and a look of hatred burned in his eyes. He slowly and quietly pulled his knife out of his boot, and raised it to stab JaK in the back.

Everyone was gaping as JaK caught the knife in his left hand, crossed it over the Private's own chest, and had his trench knife out as well, making a scissor-looking coup du grace. The Private was shaking, and JaK felt sorry for him. He wouldn't live very long out here. JaK took his knife from the man's neck and bashed the pommel into the private's right temple, probably giving his a cuncussion, and he waould definately awake with an incredible headache. To JaK's suprise, no one had broken up the circle. No one had tried to help the now-unconscious private. No one had questioned JaK's authority. JaK now wished he hadn't come here, because Jason hadn't revealed himself and JaK had already made enemies.

[Sasokata]

Master Sergeant Jason Conner

Highly Trained Special Forces Sniper
STALKER Platoon
.50 Caliber Anti-Materiel Sniper Rifle
One hell of a bad day

H e a l t h
███████████████ █ 100%


A m m u n i t i o n
██████████████ ██ 80%


C u r r e n t W e a p o n
███████████████▌▌


"...I was made to kill..."



Jason heard a loud commotion outside of the building and groaned. "What the hell is going on out there.." He said with a sigh as he walked around, shielding himself from view as he walked behind the new person wielding a knife. He quickly parted the crowd and wrapped his right arm around the Marines' neck and grabbed the man's wrist, holding a sensitive pressure point tightly. "Don't pick a fight with my platoon unless you know damn well the consequences. If you want a fight you've come to the right place. Got it." He whispered as he held the man tightly, making sure to give him as little room to move as possible. The Private was down on the ground unconscious and the Marine in probably some of the most excruciating pain he'd experienced. "Now if you want to fight real men fight someone your own size!" He said as he released the man, jabbing him hard in the back with his knee. The Private wasn't one of the Green Berets but just a mechanic they picked up from Bragg years ago. The Marine was lucky to fight the Mechanic rather than one of the combat hardened Green Berets that were mixed into the small crowd. "All right boys! Let's show this outsider who runs this show! Hooah?" He yelled as he noticed it was the Marine. He let out a laugh and shrugged. Might as well have a fight in the downtime. He smirked and removed the Barrett from his shoulder and tossed it to one of the men, then did the same with his pistol. He was completely unarmed except for the long and razor sharp Survival Knife hooked on the upper part of his Plate Carrier vest as he assumed a fighting stance. Standard procedure in Special Forces Close Quarters Combat.


OOC: .....


"...They never taught me to stop..."

[ElementGold]

Announcement:

So...since Mia is off doing her own thing, I have added my ALT into the little mixture of things people. Welcome to the newest Templar Commander: Miya Munier (played by Larken137)~!!!

Do not take her lightly! But still try and be nice to meh... crying