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 Posted: Tue Dec 22, 2009 10:55 am
ARMY REGISTRATION Intended to organize and confirm, the Army Registration area confirms all qualified individuals who would like to join the ARMY Branch. In Order to be a part of the Army, a person first pass Basic Training, and then qualify for a position in one of the Army Squads, must be accepted and confirmed by an officer of that Unit's branch, and then they may proceed in choosing their job. The Jobs and weapons will be listed in the Armory. Copy the Application Below:[color=#254117][size=15][b]PRIMARY INFORMATION [/b][/size][/color]
[b]Username:[/b]
[b]SubGroup:[/b] (Armed Regular Forces)
[b]Roleplay Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b] (Roleplay, over 18 )
[b]Bio:[/b]
[color=#254117][size=15][b]SECONDARY INFORMATION[/b][/size][/color]
[b]Team:[/b] (Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Epsilon, Theta)
[b]Role:[/b] (Role Specific, I.E. Grenadier, Rifleman, Squad Assault etc.)
[b]Weapon:[/b] (Chosen from lists)
[b]Secondary Weapon:[/b]
[b]Armor:[/b] (Apocalypse)
[b]Accessories:[/b]
[b]Other Information:[/b]
[b]Rank:[/b]
[b]Roleplay Sample:[/b](Just copy paste your previous ones or provide a link)
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Posted: Tue Dec 22, 2009 10:57 am
PRIMARY INFORMATION Username:Suicidesoldier#1 SubGroup: All Roleplay Name:Inficio Constupro Age: 26 Bio:None SECONDARY INFORMATIONTeam: (Overseer of all) Role:Marksmen/Squad Assault (You can only combine marksmen with another Role... and you have to pass marksmen training.) Weapon:Mk. 42 Armor: Apocalypse Accessories:six HE Grenades Other Information:Yes. Rank:Commander of the Armed Forces Roleplay Sample: The righteous eradication of the infidel nation was the only possible answer for this kind of situation. Extreme prejudiced was exerted during events like these, and for Loginquitas Iuguolo, this wasn't entirely a bad thing. After all, the very land he stood on was bathed in the blood and discarded remains of innocent civilians slaughtered by the hands of genocide; and the people who had committed these acts. No, for Loginquitas Iuguolo the land he was about to gain control of he was liberating, consecrating the area until he transformed the infertile decaying cesspool into something useful, perhaps even holy. Plucked from his daydream, Loginquitas Iuguolo spied a slowly treading sentry advancing towards his position. Aware of his duties to remove possible scouts, the sentry he was staring at was quickly concluded to be a scout, given his awkward gate and isolated existence. Peering through his scope and lining up his crosshairs in coordination with the wind, temperature, position of his rifle, position of his target, and Coriolis force, he lead a quick prayer to justify his actions. “The action is an act of mercy; a forsaken life cannot be left in anguish, and perils and grievances must be removed before the spirit can come to rest. The final act of Damnation has been received by your end. The only proper way to dispose of you is with a gentle removal of you from this world. See you on the other side. Amen.” The sights of the rifle aligned correctly, Loginquitas Iuguolo made sure he was aiming towards his target, and squeezed the trigger.
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Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2010 6:45 pm
PRIMARY INFORMATION
Username:dark light yagami22
SubGroup: Armed forces
Roleplay Name:Kuro Suzuki
Age: 22
Bio: His parents died in a fire incident when he was seven years old. He was raised by his older brother. By the time he turned sixteen his older brother joined the army, after a year went by he recieved a letter telling him that his older brother was killed in a shooting. At the age of eighteen he signed up for the army.
SECONDARY INFORMATION
Team:Alpha
Role:Squad Assault
Weapon:Mk.41
Armor: Apocalypse
Accessories:two HE Grenades and two hand guns.
Other Information:Trained to engage the enemy in hand to hand combat and the us of explosives.
Rank:Recruit
Roleplay Sample:N/A
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Posted: Sat Jan 02, 2010 7:17 pm
dark light yagami22 PRIMARY INFORMATION Username:dark light yagami22 SubGroup: Armed forces Roleplay Name:Kuro Suzuki Age: 22 Bio: His parents died in a fire incident when he was seven years old. He was raised by his older brother. By the time he turned sixteen his older brother joined the army, after a year went by he recieved a letter telling him that his older brother was killed in a shooting. At the age of eighteen he signed up for the army. SECONDARY INFORMATION Team:Alpha Role:Squad Assault Weapon:M42 Armor: Apocalypse Accessories:two HE Grenades and two hand guns. Other Information:No. Rank:Recruit Roleplay Sample:N/A ((There are specific weapon that you have to choose, from the armory. whee ))
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Posted: Sat Jan 16, 2010 12:59 pm
PRIMARY INFORMATION
Username: xD4rk Fl4m3sX
SubGroup: (Armed Regular Forces)
Roleplay Name: Jack Feenix
Age: 25
Bio: Jack as apart of the army force for quite a while now. Five years to be exact. He is a great hand to hand combat and can shoot far and close range. He takes his jobs seriously but at times will have a little muck around with others. He won't go down without a fight and will help other people when they are injured or in trouble. He doesn't take to kindly to loose battles and will make sure the battle goes victorious to his side.
SECONDARY INFORMATION
Team: (Alpha)
Role: NONE.
Weapon: Beretta ARX-160 assault rifle
Secondary Weapon: Mark 153 (Mk.153) SMAW rocket launcher
Armor: (Apocalypse)
Accessories: Two Silencers, Two Grenades
Other Information: Nope.
Rank: Recruit
Roleplay Sample: Today Jack was shipping out to war. He had everything he needed to fight. He was born a army soldier and will die one. Jack got his Assault Rifle out and held it close. He waited till they hit the beach and start running to the barracks. The door bursted open and Jack ran as fast as he could to the barracks. Two people came behind him and both were shot. "Damn this turrents." He cursed and so he looked up and aimed at the turrent and took one out.
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Posted: Sat Jan 16, 2010 1:13 pm
xD4rk Fl4m3sX PRIMARY INFORMATION Username: xD4rk Fl4m3sX SubGroup: (Armed Regular Forces) Roleplay Name: Jack Feenix Age: 25 Bio: Jack as apart of the army force for quite a while now. Five years to be exact. He is a great hand to hand combat and can shoot far and close range. He takes his jobs seriously but at times will have a little muck around with others. He won't go down without a fight and will help other people when they are injured or in trouble. He doesn't take to kindly to loose battles and will make sure the battle goes victorious to his side. SECONDARY INFORMATIONTeam: (Alpha) Role: (Heavy weapons, Rifleman) Weapon: Beretta ARX-160 assault rifle Secondary Weapon: Mp5 Armor: (Apocalypse) Accessories: Two Silencers, Two Grenades Other Information: Nope. Rank: Recruit Roleplay Sample: Today Jack was shipping out to war. He had everything he needed to fight. He was born a army soldier and will die one. Jack got his Assault Rifle out and held it close. He waited till they hit the beach and start running to the barracks. The door bursted open and Jack ran as fast as he could to the barracks. Two people came behind him and both were shot. "Damn this turrents." He cursed and so he looked up and aimed at the turrent and took one out.
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Posted: Sat Jan 23, 2010 12:19 pm
PRIMARY INFORMATION
Username: Zeraal
SubGroup: Armed forces
Roleplay Name: En'K'Haral Rogirrek
Age: 20
Bio: En'K'Haral has just joined the army and trianed to become and explosives specialist.
SECONDARY INFORMATION
Team: requesting: Alpha)
Role: Explosives specialist
Primary Weapon: Explosives primaraly C-4
Secondary Weapon: Desert Eagle
Armor: Apocolyps .80
Accessories: FIM 92 Stingerx1, USMC
Other Information: N/A
Rank: Recruit
Roleplay Sample:
En'K'Haral had been enjoying his last momentss of free thought and action. When the DI had yelled at him he snapped to attention and marched forward, the action was sloppy and he new he would quickly regret it. He shouted his response but looked straight through the DI as if he wasn't there.
"Sir! This soldier's name is En'K'Haral. This soldier is five feet elevan inchs in height. This soldier is one hundred-sixty-one pounds sir!
Sir! I am not gay sir!"
s**t!
Was his first thought as he caught the mistake only after he had said it. En'K'Haral stood there sweating and wondering what he had just earned himself.
((heres hopeing I did this right))
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Posted: Sun Jan 24, 2010 11:11 am
PRIMARY INFORMATION
Username: Lord Tai
SubGroup: (Little confused by this, so correct me if I mess up) Infantry
Roleplay Name: Tai
Age: 23
Bio:
SECONDARY INFORMATION
Team: Alpha
Role: Rifleman
Weapon: HK G36
Secondary Weapon: TDI Kriss Super V
Armor: Apocalypse
Accessories:
-FIM-92 Stinger
-Foregrip (G36)
-(Would an E-tool (entrenching tool(basically a shovel that's very effective as a hatchet) be okay here? Maybe even a trench knife?)
Other Information:
-Proficient in all three forms of Systema Spetsnaz
-Very adaptive in combat
Rank: Recruit
Roleplay Sample:
"I'm sorry, sir, but we're going to have to amputate your face." A cold, grainy voice said.
"What the ********? Why?" the man replied in a mixture of fear and confusion.
He was strapped down to a bed in a dark hospital wing. No one was around that he could see, and there were hardly any working lights, causing the room to be drenched in shadow. The scene was similar to something straight out of a horror film.
"Because, under the new medical doctrine, you are not allowed to live," The voice answered, the man behind it stepping out into the light. He wore a grey military uniform that sported a fresh coating of blood. A malicious grin spread across the man's face as he produced from behind him the weapon with which he would do evil unto the man in the bed. A large, serrated knife was gripped firmly in his hand.
The military man lifted the blade behind his head, and brought it down upon the man's head, splitting...
"Tai! Tai, wake up!" A voice entered Tai's conciousness, dragging him from his sleep. It was faint, as though from a distance.
Tai shook his head to quicken his return to reality.
"What is it?" He grunted.
"Dreaming were you? We're here." The man next to him grinned.
"Yeah, I was just getting to the good part." Tai reached down and slapped both legs to wake them up, helping to get the blood flowing regularly again.
The other man shivered. 'The good part', with Tai, usually had something to do with the disembowlment of another human being.
Both men stood, and were joined in standing by a number of others, all armed to the teeth. In unison, each member of their party faced a ramp that would soon drop to let them pass over it. When it did, they came pouring out of the APC, which had taken them as far as it could into the battle.
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Prussian Imperial Guard Crew
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Posted: Sun Jan 24, 2010 4:16 pm
PRIMARY INFORMATION Username: GrayFox436 SubGroup: (Armed Regular Forces) Roleplay Name: Damion Wolf Age: 28 Bio: Born into a rich, powerful family, Damion began his life in the lap of luxury. Instead of becoming complacant and lazy, however, he sought challenges and adversity wherever he could. Regularly he played sports and did high altitude mountain climbing, even managing to get his chopper pilot's lisence before he got his driver's lisence. When he was old enough he signed up for the Coast Guard as a rescue chopper pilot. His family connections sent him on a short road to that position. On one mission, while riding co-pilot, his chopper suffered a critical failure and fell from the sky, crashing into the ocean. He suffered major injuries and had to undergo extensive surgury and rehabillitation. His friend, who was with him in the crash, died. Part of his injuries consisted of damage to his inner ear, something that would prevent him from ever becoming a full pilot. At the time it was thought that this damage was perminant, however it has healed since then. Discouraged but not broken by this event, he joined the Army and soon enrolled to join the elite 75th Ranger Regiment. Because of the crash Damion has a large, mean looking scar over the right side of his face. It does nothing to dampen his charm, though. Were it not for the scar then he would be very handsome. Physically fit, tough as nails and posessing a moral fortitude that would gag a saint, Damion is uncompromising in his job and ruthless in how he carrys out orders. He also just happens to be a womanizing lecher and at worst a sociopath. SECONDARY INFORMATION Team: Wherever Needed Role: Rifleman / Command Position Primary Weapon: Mission Sensative. Favored weapon is a SCAR-H with underbarrel 40mm grenade launcher with a red dot Reflex site. Secondary Weapon: Custom modified M26 LSS, modified to be semi-automatic (right thigh) with a Mk. 23 SOCOM in a back holster (left-handed draw with the slightly more powerful ammunition that it was designed to fire). Armor: Mission Sensative. Usually some standard CHRISAT style vest with ballistic inserts. Accessories: Mission Sensative. At least one personal long-bladded dagger, a combat knife and a boot knife. Other Information: Has an expired civilian chopper lisence. Still remembers how to fly. Rank: Desired Master Sergeant Roleplay Sample: GrayFox436 - Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 6:33 pm Damion, in his most wonderful of timing, entered the rave club just as Izetta was beginning her decent. Unfortunantly for both, he was at the door with a crowd of ravers between himself and the damsel in distress. He didn't even know she was falling and would likely miss it through the crowd.
The tall, well built Trueborn walked through the crowd. Those gathered before him parted in his wake, either because they saw him coming or because he was a six-foot two inch tall, two hundred ten pound man with augmented muscles nothing but contempt for those around him. Dressed in his coal gray romani suit, his scarred but handsome features gave an air of authority and power. When one would look closer, they would see he was wearing heavy combat boots and black, fingerless gloves. This would warp his image somewhat, along with the fact that one eye was blue/gray and the other was dull yellow.
Yes, Damion was a farely large, athletic man. The way he held himself, his chin thrust upward just a bit and that incouragable half grin on the unscarred left side of his face, made him appear arrogant beyond reproach. The cold, calculating look in his natural left eye suggested he was not one to trifle with.
As the paty raged on, he would aproach the bar. GrayFox436 - Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 9:08 pm The noise went right past Damion. Enhanced hearing or no, the music was debilitatingly loud. It was all his implants could do to keep the sounds from damaging what medical science had failed to reconstruct. But his state of mind was intact - well, it was un-altered.
Bits of metal shavings from the explosion peppered the crowd. Just a bit of it landed on his suit. Damion noticed the burnt metal and frowned, wondering how it got there and who he would have to punch to get an apology for the burn mark on his nice clothing. As he glanced around, the Trueborn could find nobody smoking anything that would produce hot, smoldering pieces of metal.
What in the name of the Father, he wondered.
Something wasn't sitting right with him. As a man living on borrowed time since birth, he was acutely awair of when somebody was targeting him. Many developed that sense, although feeling when you are being targeted and pinpointing the source were two different things. But as he looked around, he did see something fall into the crowd.
Falling... from the ceiling?
His eyes darted upward just as the timer counted down to zero. GrayFox436 - Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 11:20 pm And Damion saw a hole in the ceiling. What's more, he saw a creature of some manner perched just above that hole. Smoke began spreading, filling up the room; he assumed from whatever it was that decended from the hole.
The smoke was an obvious method of covering one's activity. Unless their target was tagged through infrared or electronic means, whoever it was that had thrown the cannister would have a b***h of a time tracking him. But if their target was a static object then the smoke would be perfect. Things like safes didn't run.
Damion stood still as he took in his surroundings. If the fellow in the ceiling wanted to come in, then his point of landing would be obvious; there were only so many directions one could go when they gave themselves up to gravity. There were few enterances, however, and he would need one of them to secure his person. Glancing toward the front door, he saw that it was now open with a whisp of smoke rising from a hole clear through it.
Ozone, smoke and... blood. The smell of death wafted into the air. One never forgot that scent; fear, s**t and the heavy copper scent of blood. People were dying in here. Whoever it was that made their entry was indiscriminant.
Reaching into his pocket, Damion pulled what looked like a pair of dark tinted glasses. He put them on and looked up at the person waiting outside of the hole in the ceiling. His timing was such that he caught the man just as he fell into the chaos.
"Tag," Damion whispered. The DDV (Digital Display Visor) froze the image of whoever it was who just jumped in and sent it via wi-fi to a Soft safe house that had a link to the database in the city. The operators there would begin studying the image immediatly and adding it to the profile matching softwere available to them. Along with that, they would look over the image for any weapons or distinguishing markings.
"Image recieved", came a voice in Damion's ear. "You okay, boss?"
"Put a team on stand-by. I'm going to try and exfil quietly. I might not be their target."
"Roger. Team being prepped. ETA ten minutes. Hold out until then."
Bodies in panic, Damion thought. Thermal would be best for defeating the smoke cannister. That's how he did it, anyway. All around him he saw warm bodies, made hotter by the drugs, dancing and ambient tempriture. Where those civilians realized what was going on, panic kicked in, driving their heart rate higher still. Every now and then a body would be highlighted as the DDV's profile matching softwere caught something tangible.
Looks like a team in the front door and the one who came in from above. Panic is spreading but it is not reached its peak yet. Let me change that.
Damion descretly shoved his way over to a fire alarm by the bar and pulled the tag. At once an alarm sounded. Then he turned and drew one of his three micro grenades. Thumbing the safety cap off, he armed it and tossed it into the crowd. It exploded with a piercing bang. Meant more for distraction than anything else, it cut through the alarm and the music, killing one person and injuring four others.
Now the room was in a full panic. Using this panic, Damion began descretely making his way toward the front door, hoping to work himself in behind the entry team. The smoke was spreading nicely, fallowing the flow of air toward the door but dissapating as it went.
If you are after me, then try and catch me, he thought. GrayFox436 - Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2009 12:44 pm Well, the panic had set in comfortably now. Damion continued to scan his surroundings as he made his way toward the door, trying to keep from being caught unawairs. As he went, he called upon his guardian Angel to watch over him. Few people would ever associate that wonderful, beautiful creature with such an abrasive personality as he. Even as he looked around and let the DDV do its thing, he images began filtering through his mind of the mob from various angles.
He was nearing the door, although there were still people between him and it. As he got closer, he noticed an object flying over the crowd. It was lost as it rebounded off of the door. His questions were answered shortly there after as it erupted in a sudden, blinding flash. The crowd and his DDV both acted to dull the effects - his reconstructed inner ear dulled the sound just like it had been doing with the music.
Bystanders fell away from the flash bomb, dizzied and blinded. This might make it easier for him to get to the door as he was unaffected by it and the ones who were were no longer in his way.
If they're close enough to throw it then they're close enough to catch a bullet, he thought. Whatever they were after, it was looking less and less like asset recovery. What organization would raid a place just to murder ravers?
It was then that Damion noticed the red gleem from deeper in the room. Somebody was illuminating him with a red-dot laser. He founds the source and let the visor do the rest. It matched the person's profile with the one who fell in from above. From his posture and the way he was holding the laser, it was clear that he was not armed.
No guns, he thought. Swords and eye pieces. Who do these guys think they are?
For a brief moment he feared that his past was catching up to him. Could it be a DEST team coming all the way from Kurita space to finish him off? And if so, what the Hell did he do to piss them off? Death Commandoes used guns, damn it, so it couldn't be House Liao. At least now he knew that they were after him.
Around that time Damion noticed others moving with a purpose other than panic. His Angel tasted the emotions of those gathered and transferred them to him, allowing him to gauge the room. Panic was the overriding emotion, along with confusion. However, there was a chosie few who felt anger along with confusion. Of course, nobody panics when the plan goes according to plan. There were five or six people who seemed calm.
One is probably the owner, he thought. Either he planned this or he is having one of is arrogant spells. He doubted it was his planning, however. No need to kill off the client base, even if the Rave was a front for less legal affairs. The thugs seem to be taking to arms now.
It was at that moment that he noticed one of the calm ones coming toward him, moving through the crowd just out of his vision. Angel had spotted him although Damion only caught a brief glance of the operative before he milted back into the mob. There were two thugs near by, one with a pump action shotgun and the other with a very large handgun.
He had no doubt that the club would have tagged him as a person of "interest" after his visits. Surely the owner knew of his ties to Soft. Hopefully the sword-wielding ninja-types would be more distracting.
Damion pulled the Mk.23 from his holster hidden in his jacket and mounted the silencer. He acted with precision and discretion to mask his actions. Holding the weapon slightly behind his thigh, he began walking toward the two thugs (who were currently trying to work their way through the panic-stricken crowd) on a course that would have him walk past them on the right. As he did, Damion swiftly aimed the hand gun from the hip and pumped two rounds of heavy .45 +P ammunition into them, dropping both to the floor.
As they fell, Damion relieved them of the shotgun, keeping his pistol ready in case either of them survived. He would be able to tell at a glance due to his DDV, his Angel and is own occular implant. They were both dead, so he holstered the Mk.23 and checked to make sure the shotgun was loaded, then turned to face the direction of his persuer.
Being one of the few to remain calm in the situation, Damion held the shotgun at waist level and did not aim it. The barrel was pointing at a shallow angle toward the floor but he would be ready when he saw his persuer coming out of the mass of people.
The element of surprise in this little "operation" had been lost for them. Now it would be who spotted the other first. There was a very good bet that the attackers knew of his appropreation since they had a spotter about but Damion was still hopeful that he could walk away from here without firing another shot. GrayFox436 - Posted: Mon Sep 21, 2009 6:30 pm The mass of people trying to get past where Damion stood was dense. This was especially true since he was neary the most popular area of the bar at the moment; the front door and one of few obvious exits. His back might as well have been against a wall for he people around him and even though he had a little spot that was not quiet as packed as it could be, there was not a tremendous amount of room. The bodies around his feet and the gun in his hands did more to keep people at arms length than anything else.
More than the DDV, his eyes and his own intuition, he had Angel. All of those things together would make him difficult to aproch even with smoke and people everywhere. As the operative came closer he would also make make it more likely that he would be spotted.
Even with these advantages, things happened very fast. When one of the Ravers was shoved toward him, Damion neatly side-stepped the stricken man. It was clear this was not an intentional action on the bistander's part and only to be expected in the heat of such a moment. However, he knew that one of the calm entities was very close - almost upon him, in fact.
When the operative struck out and pressed the knife to Damion's throat, the former Clanner would imediatly lift his left hand from the shotgun to grab his attacker's wrist. He placed his thumb into the base of the attacker's palm so that the tip of that didget was pressing into the meat between the man's index finger and thum. His own index finger would complete connect on the same piece of meat from the other side, creating a very painful preassure point. The rest of his fingers would close around the articulate part of the man's wrist.
Damion would begin to pull the knife away from his throat and apply steady and great amounts of pressure on the hand he had captured until he felt the tip of the wakizashi on his back. This elected a grin from his face, one that the operative could not see.
One thing that they might not know about depending on how thorough they did their homework was of Damion's augmentations. Due to injuries sustained very early in his life, he had much of his muscle structure replaced or augmented with strengthened myomer fibers. This made him a very strong and rugged individual, even if it came with its own disadvantages. From the preassure he put on the operative's wrist without visual signs of straing it was clear he could crush the man's hand in an instant.
It seemed, however, that these people wanted to take him alive if not in one piece. This was interesting.
"If you wanted an autograph," he mused, "You could have asked." GrayFox436 - Posted: Thu Sep 24, 2009 10:44 am The background plans of the group attacking him were unkown to Damion. Angel kept him updated on the intentions of those around him and his DDV did its best to sort through what was left of the crowd and pick out the hostiles. For now, the thugs guarding the place were highlighted in yellow while the operatives were red. The reason for the color coding was that the thugs were a possible threat but the operatives were an imminant threat.
Damion was going to make his move against the one who caught him soon, anyway. He wasn't afraid to take a cut or two, even from a skilled swordsman. However, when he felt the preassure from the wakizashi vanish he sprang into action.
Pulling the operative's hand to his left, Damion would hyper extend the apendage and foil his strike. However, this would still likely pull the blade into his side as it was still between the two of them. Willing to take that kind of wound - and trusting his myomer-strengthened muscles to hold up against it, as they had when put against bullets in the past - he thrust his right elbow be behind the operative and placed the flat of his forearm across the man's back.
From there he squeased, crushing the man's left hand, stepped his right foot in front of the operative's own feet and rotated his body to the left to unbalance him and fallow him to the ground, pinning him in place.
"That guy's got a gun", came a voice in his ear. The operative who disarmed one of the thugs and picked up the MAC-10 began flashing as the operator back at Soft's HQ highlighted him.
Having a team did matter, a lot. While Damion was the only man in the vicinity he was being fed data and supported by his subordinates. And even though the DDV was a masterpiece of modern technology it did not have the processing power or the same intuition of a Human to active tag all threats in real-time. After all, the DDV was only meant to give an agent a Heads-Up Display. It had to be fed information either from a personal computer or via HQ. Fight ended early; challenger ceased posting. Source enclosed. Pages 284 though 286. http://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/gaia-commerce/the-rave-club-all-welcomed-open-one-year/t.43052713_4246/
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Posted: Tue Jan 26, 2010 9:30 pm
PRIMARY INFORMATION
Username:Lance asguard
SubGroup: (Armed Regular Forces)
Roleplay Name: Lance Asgard
Age: 20
Bio:
will reveal as needed
SECONDARY INFORMATION
Team: Alpha
Role: Rifleman
Weapon: M4 Variants
Secondary Weapon: M1911
Armor: Current Armor System (CAS)
Accessories:
-M67 Fragmentation Grenade x 3
-Tactical Light
-Bowie Knife
-Standard Issue Army knife (technically a bayonet & knife)
Other Information:
Rank: E-1
Roleplay Sample:
Lance Nightingale
recruit
bus
arrival
Lance was shocked at the rant the length of the rant and a look of coldness overtook his face and he stepped back in line and stomped on his own foot because he could not believe how stupid he was to step out of line and not ask permission to talk. he had learned his first lesson at B.T. ,it was to never assume anything ,ever, assuming got people killed. Lance's father had died because his CO assumed there were no snipers in a city ,he would not make the same mistake twice he was sure of it.
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Posted: Tue Feb 09, 2010 7:19 pm
Username: tttavian
SubGroup: (Armed Regular Forces)
Roleplay Name: Tavian Thomas
Age: (Roleplay, over 18 ) 21
Bio: As a child he hated his family and wanted to go away from them but could not survive by himself.So he decided to do the closest thing to never seeing them again and that was the army.
SECONDARY INFORMATION
Team: Alpha
Role: Rifleman
Weapon: (Chosen from lists)MK41
Secondary Weapon: 5 grenades
Armor: Apocolipse
Accessories: Short knife and a small pistol 44k
Other Information:
Rank: Private FC
Roleplay Sample:(Just copy paste your previous ones or provide a link)Tavian walks out of the room his commander told him to be in.Tavian wipes the sweat off of his head.Man I didn't know this place was gonna be this hot, said Tavian.HEY YOU DIDN'T I TELL YOU TO GET IN THE ROOM, said the commander.Tavian then runs in his room and locks the door so the commander would'nt get to him.This will be a long term, said Tavian.
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Posted: Thu Feb 11, 2010 1:39 pm
PRIMARY INFORMATION
Username: Gwendolyn_Heart
SubGroup: (Armed Regular Forces)
Roleplay Name: Susan "Suzie" Lockheart
Age: 37 - 38 (Late Thirties)
Bio: ( is this absolutely necessary? :/ )
SECONDARY INFORMATION
Team: Wherever Needed
Role: Medical Specialist
Weapon: .44 Magnum Desert Eagle
Secondary Weapon: Colt Gov't / M1911 Pistol
Armor: (Apocalypse)
Accessories: Portable Med-kit with the essentials, trench knife
Other Information: N/A
Rank: Recruit
Roleplay Sample: Clouds loomed over a little concrete hospital, or what was left of it at least. Surrounding the hospital was nothing but forest. A little path was carved leading through the forest and towards the center of the hospital. The hospital was actually in great condition compared to what happened to others in the war. It was cracked and bruised in some places by the many bullets of frantic soldiers while in other places, rooms were completely stripped of its walls. Bodies were taken away long ago when the war was over, leaving behind statues of angels and gargoyles to the presence of one woman. She was a nurse during the war and carried on that mission even after the war. The hospital was her last home, and she planned to stay there, helping the few people that were so injured to be alive, until the day she too died.
She was a dainty little woman - maybe in her late thirties. All she wore on her were white tennis shoes stained with dirt and wear, a gray nurse's dress that was scratched in some places and dirty in others, and a pair of ivory white socks that she treasured highly. Her hair was hazel brown - the color of wheat ripe for the picking on a farm - and its texture was just the same as its color, coarse, worn and frail. She didn't bother to tie it up. The patients loved it that way anyway. Though she was in her thirties, she looked much older; her face said so. Wrinkles were chiseled underneath her eyes and around the corners of her dainty, pink lips. But when she smiled, it lit up the gray of her entire appearance. Her smile would not only appear on her sweet lips, but also in her distant blue eyes.
Every morning, she would walk down the path to a nearby watering hole and bathe herself, first stripping away her coarse gray dress then her shoes and her socks. She would dip into the cool water, wearing her undergarments out of habit of her embarassment. She was never quite fond of her body and in her high school days, she always wore her undergarments when she showered in front of the other girls. After her morning bath, she would walk towards the orchard near the hospital - four kilometers. There, she would carefully pick ripe fruit - oranges, cherries, plums and of course, peaches. She knew the patient in room 153 loved peaches.
Retracing her steps, she would carefully walk back four kilometers to the hospital carrying the fruit in a hollow she made with her dress. Her shoes would tap lightly on the wooden steps leading to every room; there were four. She visited Leonardo first, quietly entering the room, half of which was stripped away by a bomb long ago. Leonardo was already awake, his pale green eyes staring at her with rage. He was never a well-mannered man, always cursing up a storm even when there wasn't anything to curse about. "Damn wench. Where are my plums?" She gave him a patient and calm smile as she approached his frail body, taking a seat beside him and looking through the fruit for a single plum.
The nurse placed the other fruit down and lifted the plum to her pink lips, peeling away the skin with her teeth. As she did so, the juices of the plum slowly slid down her frail arm. When she finished, she bit into the plum, carefully taking out the seed. Still with a smile on her face, she brought the plum to Leonardo's lips, letting him carefully bite into the sweetly ripe fruit. When he was done, she proceeded in giving him his morning bath, taking a pan of sterile water and dipping a clean gray cloth into the water. She soaked his skin with water, starting at the stumps he had where legs and arms were meant to be. Her thin fingers traced his skin, making him shiver every time. "b***h. You're doing it wrong. I told you not to do that" he would say, but they both knew he loved every second of it. When she was done with his body, the nurse lightly dabbed water at his perspiring forehead and face, smiling all the while. She washed his hair, brushing her fingers through the thick forest of black on his tired head. She massaged his shoulders, dressing him up in a white button-up shirt and matching pants. When she was done, she kissed him lightly on the forehead, smiling, and picked up her fruit, turning towards the door.
"Thank you..." he whispered to her as she left the room to the next.
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Posted: Mon Feb 15, 2010 4:58 pm
PRIMARY INFORMATION
Username:Mekin Dotelle Valentine
SubGroup: Armed Regular Forces
Roleplay Name:James Garvin 'Cricket' Lee
Age: 22
Bio: Being the youngest of five children, all boys, James was the runt. As he watched his brothers become successful in their respective areas, he was left with no special abilities with which to excel. Except in one area: shooting. He was constantly outside with his BB guns, shooting things with an almost professional precision. After attending college, with a major in Psychology, he enlisted in the Army. He has always been a sort of rebel, especially when faced with weak authority. But he's ready to change that with the Armed Forces.
SECONDARY INFORMATION
Team: Whichever will take me
Role: Rifleman
Weapon: SCAR MK. 16
Secondary Weapon: .44 Magnum Desert Eagle
Armor: (Apocalypse)
Accessories: First-aid kit, tactical knife
Other Information: N/A
Rank: Recruit
Roleplay Sample:
Running a hand over his shaved head, James sighed, looking out the window. Hair still fell from the fresh haircut. He wasn't like these people. He didn't belong here. He wanted to be out there, on the front lines. His piercing blue eyes seemed almost doubtful as he looked out the pristine bus window. He saw other recruits going about their business, as usual on a base. He looked down and rearranged the small duffel bag next to him. It was camouflage--the real stuff, not the new 'digital' crap--and had metal trimming on the handles. He remembered the day his brother gave it to him, before he left for the Armed Forces. He ran a hand over his face, smooth now, due to regulation, and sighed once more. He didn't see why his proficiency test hadn't been enough for him to skip all this.
He closed his eyes and rested his head against the bus seat. His face was that of a young man, but his eyes, and the already-visible stubble said otherwise. His muscles also told a different story. He was short and stocky, built like a pillar of rock. His tight olive-drab shirt showed every detail of the lean muscles beneath the thin fabric. He wasn't muscular in the body-builder sense; he was muscular in the well-defined, almost virtually fat-free, martial artist way. His black belt in tae-kwan-do helped to give him that look. He had a single tattoo, on his left pectoral, above his heart, which read simply 'Bud'. It was in honor of the two great Buds he had known in his life. The jolly, fat old man that he had been proud to call his grandfather, and the equally jolly and fat old dog that had been in his life for 17 years.
He was looking forward to finally putting his skills to the test in the field, instead of just shooting BBs at cans perched on the backyard fence and unlucky birds. He was ready to prove himself to others, and himself. But he wouldn't be the rebel that he had always been. He was under their supervision now. This was a whole 'nother ball game.
And he'd have to play by their rules.
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Posted: Fri Feb 19, 2010 5:52 pm
PRIMARY INFORMATION
Username: Azn Akoni808
SubGroup:Armed Regular Forces
Roleplay Name: Kekoa S. Paliluhi
Age: 18
Bio:
SECONDARY INFORMATION
Team: Wherever Needed
Role: Assault Team
Weapon: M4 A1 Carbine
Secondary Weapon: M1911, B1 Combat Knife
Armor sad Apocalypse)
Accessories:
-M67 Fragmentation Grenade x 3
-Small Medkit
Other Information:
Rank: E-3
Roleplay Sample: Shuya saw the crowd in awe. " People I stand before and all who want to slay me, slay me." He began his speech. " I have no intentions of doing what my father did but only make things right with you all again, so slay me and what will you have? A country full of power hungry dogs." An assassin drew his blade from the crowd. Shuya ordered his guards to stand down. He caught the assassins blade in his hand and grabbed his arm. He took him to the ground and held the blade to his throat. " Tell your master I am no dog." He threatened the man. He released him and walked back into the palace. He walked out into the patio to meet with Elizabeth. " How can you be so clam when all of this is going?" He questioned laughing after another toughening experience with an assassin.
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