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Ahhh fuck! Just as I got to over 4,000 chars, it fucking deleted! *sigh* I'll post tomorrow Swift and R.I.P. Ric- Er, I mean, uh, Truman </3
GreivousKhan said
I'd agree to start in Hammerfell, not to mention it would be easier to explain different races coming and working together I think. Btw, the Dominion was left pretty bloodied as well after the Great War, so their not in that great a position.
Good point there
Lucian said
Well, they're actually pretty much obliterated since Skyrim. At least, their office in Skyrim is. Which reminds me, where do we want to start? I was thinking the Aldmeri Dominion would actually be the safest place for our characters to gather together and embark from, since the mer are still really powerful, and could probably fight off the hordes of Daedra the longest.
EDIT: Or possibly Hammerfell, since nobody ever conquers Hammerfell.
Mm, good question. Perhaps with the Dominion since they're probably the most well supplied right now? Then again since Hammerfell's never been conquered it might have more strategic locations and a better place of training for our characters.
Interested, oh so interested. Guess the vigilantes of stendarr are going to have their hands full aye?
McCoy bit his lip to keep from laugh when the sergeant and Abridge got into another stand off, knowing of their hatred for each other is probably worse than that of the Covies for humanity. The mission explained and all, he was quite shocked, but he always loved the 'soap ophera' of Abridge's and Jameson's 'love'. He sat by the new recruits, trying to keep as professional as possible with the feud began, his lips aching to have his ever so amused smirk on his lips as he sucked in a deep breathe, thanking God that is was finally over. He stood up, walking with Crawley, Truman, and April as he whispered to them, "As you see that was the first fight you witnessed of them two, or as I call them, 'Mommy and Daddy fight.'" He smirked wider hearing there chuckles, glad he relieved some stress of the mission, and taunts from the other squad as he continued, "Make a lovely couple don't they? You know, the Wanderer isn't the only ship that I ship on." He winked suggestively, making them smile a little at his jokes. Thank God for Brewer and Gatling's playful arguments during lunch for this wit. Still they were about to go out on a mission, and his drill sergeant mode was kicking in, like father like son he supposed.
His face turned serious as they needed to hear this, "Now I know you're in ODST and you're feeling invincible, but remember. We're not Spartans here, we're just marines with extra training. And even if we were Spartans they aren't invincible, don't believe any of that Spartan M.I.A. bullshit, just ONI being spooks as usual. Don't get cocky, look out for each other, and the squad. Don't worry, we get surrounded, squad's looking out for you as well." They nodded, making McCoy smile a little, saying, "Now then." He slipped on his helmet, making sure the greenhorns saw his visor, and with a point he welcomed, "Welcome to Ghost."
He turned on his heel, after they saluted and confirmed his claims with a, "Sir, yes sir." He made his way to the drop pods, planning on betting Ready this time in being....well ready for this mission.
His face turned serious as they needed to hear this, "Now I know you're in ODST and you're feeling invincible, but remember. We're not Spartans here, we're just marines with extra training. And even if we were Spartans they aren't invincible, don't believe any of that Spartan M.I.A. bullshit, just ONI being spooks as usual. Don't get cocky, look out for each other, and the squad. Don't worry, we get surrounded, squad's looking out for you as well." They nodded, making McCoy smile a little, saying, "Now then." He slipped on his helmet, making sure the greenhorns saw his visor, and with a point he welcomed, "Welcome to Ghost."
He turned on his heel, after they saluted and confirmed his claims with a, "Sir, yes sir." He made his way to the drop pods, planning on betting Ready this time in being....well ready for this mission.
Nallore said
Pretty much I think but more from the Covvie's few. And 300th post is mine! :P
Just wait til that 400th post comes, it shall be 69's post that will be 400th! Muwahaha!!!
Marine Operations Staging Area, 03:29
The 1st squad supports-man looked over at the recruits, chuckling when he sees their fearful expressions turned toward the staff sergeant of his squad goes over to them, putting them in line. Sometimes he wondered if his own father would be intimidated by Archer, daddy was one mean son of a bitch they'll tell you. Right before the closed coffin they had to put his pieces in, he left quite the bit of scars on that Guta, the bowie knife having dried blood on it along with a couple pieces of flesh when given to the eight year old McCoy.
He frowned at that thought, quickly shaking his head to pull his head out of his ass as he looked down at his helmet that he held in his hands with his father's old knife sheathed in the holster on the right side of his chest, along with the newest attachment his wife sent him in his boot, a short blade machete to get him out of a malfunctioning jet pack. Thing had a square shape, the blade a titanium carbide ten-inch chopper style. Apparently some new recruits into the special ops were doing a training excise, one of them getting cocky and flying into some tree line, where a stray branch got into one of the thrusters, the trooper panicking and leaving behind a nice size crater.
Gatling smiled slightly at the paranoia his wife had for him, making mental note to send his wife something in return, lord knows the woman deserved it other than their usual video call, along with the occasional nudity pic he would send her through tac pad, with him doing the same. He shook his head of such thoughts immediately, blue balls the very last thing he needed right now. To preoccupy himself he slung his M738 and M319 over his shoulders, his helmet being held in his arm as he walked over to make sure he got his ammo and frags.
He quickly stood up to make his way to the loading bench, seeing Ready already making rounds to it as he walked beside him, the men exchanging nods in a silent greeting before going back to collecting their clips, Gatling having set his helmet on the bench as he loaded up is clips for his SAW and grenade launcher. He took a peak over at Ready's hair, furrowing his eyebrows as he has been secretly wondering if the two had the same hairstyle and beard/mustache combo, with Ready's being thicker.
The 1st squad supports-man looked over at the recruits, chuckling when he sees their fearful expressions turned toward the staff sergeant of his squad goes over to them, putting them in line. Sometimes he wondered if his own father would be intimidated by Archer, daddy was one mean son of a bitch they'll tell you. Right before the closed coffin they had to put his pieces in, he left quite the bit of scars on that Guta, the bowie knife having dried blood on it along with a couple pieces of flesh when given to the eight year old McCoy.
He frowned at that thought, quickly shaking his head to pull his head out of his ass as he looked down at his helmet that he held in his hands with his father's old knife sheathed in the holster on the right side of his chest, along with the newest attachment his wife sent him in his boot, a short blade machete to get him out of a malfunctioning jet pack. Thing had a square shape, the blade a titanium carbide ten-inch chopper style. Apparently some new recruits into the special ops were doing a training excise, one of them getting cocky and flying into some tree line, where a stray branch got into one of the thrusters, the trooper panicking and leaving behind a nice size crater.
Gatling smiled slightly at the paranoia his wife had for him, making mental note to send his wife something in return, lord knows the woman deserved it other than their usual video call, along with the occasional nudity pic he would send her through tac pad, with him doing the same. He shook his head of such thoughts immediately, blue balls the very last thing he needed right now. To preoccupy himself he slung his M738 and M319 over his shoulders, his helmet being held in his arm as he walked over to make sure he got his ammo and frags.
He quickly stood up to make his way to the loading bench, seeing Ready already making rounds to it as he walked beside him, the men exchanging nods in a silent greeting before going back to collecting their clips, Gatling having set his helmet on the bench as he loaded up is clips for his SAW and grenade launcher. He took a peak over at Ready's hair, furrowing his eyebrows as he has been secretly wondering if the two had the same hairstyle and beard/mustache combo, with Ready's being thicker.
Swift, just....j-just...
No words for how beautiful we all are, literally. We are all fucking sexy especially my McCoy <3
Huh, never thought I would be calling Chuck Liddell sexy...
No words for how beautiful we all are, literally. We are all fucking sexy especially my McCoy <3
Huh, never thought I would be calling Chuck Liddell sexy...
He shivers and shakes in the cold area, his eyes wide with shock as he looks over the slightly frozen walls, ice coating them along with the floor having a faded scarlet tint to it under the carcasses. He pushes himself through, wondering what the hell is going on after a brief kiss to his cross, muttering, "May the lord's watchful eyes guide the wickedness away." He slowly took a hesitant steps through the freezer, looking over at carcass, after bloody carcass. When he came up to the knife and note, he muttered a quick, "What the actual fuck is going on here?" He grabbed the hilt of the knife, giving it a quick yank to pull out, holding it tightly it his grip while catching the note at it fell. After looking it over again, he murmurs, "Christ." He shoves the note in his pocket, gripping the dull blade tightly as he took his slow steps again, this time cautious to get out of here and continue on with his pilgrimage as he calls out, "Hello?"
And if I am accepted, than group B please
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