Andreyich

The Division | Mao Mao & Andreyich

PENNSYLVANIA PLAZA // JAMES FARLEY POST OFFICE

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"Likewise, Ma'am." Badger replied, lowering his saluting hand. He wasn't a particularly big sports fan, unless one considered chess as such which his past comrades didn't. This meant he had not in the past had much time spent around the Madison Square Garden, so he had little idea what he might be getting into there (especially with recent changes). Still, duty was duty and if he'd be sent into the depths of hell he'd only ask for a spare magazine.

Nodding as the assignment was made clear to them, Badger raised an eyebrow as the woman expressed her suffering. He very, very much wanted to make a snarky comment about pretending to be hot shit when you have a wound but he restrained himself. Saluting again to the woman he stepped out, letting Firefly get through the bullshit of talking to brass. Leaning on a wall he filed his nails as he waited for his comrade to come out, believing the world having fallen to anarchy was not an excuse for being poorly groomed.

Putting away his little vanity objects he once more unslung his rifle and spoke while moving to save time. "I say we get up on the rooftops in the area first. See what we're getting into. Scavengers might have already picked everything clean, and if not there's a good chance we won't be the only ones looking for the fuel. Could easily be a rat's nest of some sort, ambushes and traps at every corner."

The fuel was needed urgently otherwise they wouldn't ask of it. But if they barged in trying to get it as fast as possible they'd die and not get the fuel anyway so as far as Don saw there really wasn't a reason to rush things, one of the stories of Aesop coming to mind now. The only difference was that the hare would step on a landmine or get its throat cut by someone in an alley whereas the tortoise would make it to the end of the race on a pile of ne'erdowells' corpses. Badger of course saw himself as the tortoise, not fancying bullets in himself. "Of course, once we get an idea of what we're up against we should act as fast as possible, high speed and low drag, in and out, push any bastards we come up against as hard as possible and force them off of what's ours."

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Warhammer 40k: Sons of Titan - A Grey Knights RP

Brother Olympio

Name: Olympio

Rank: Battle-Brother

Specialisation (If any): N/A

Psychic Aptitude: Olympio is a very powerful psyker even by the standards of the Grey Knights, the leadership of the Chapter considering him for the Librarius or even the Prognosticars should his career prove fruitful; however, his powers are rather unfortunately for a Grey Knight in the fields not immediately tangible in the battlefield; very powerful telepathy, divination, and even the power of logokinetics are natural to young Olympio. Thus he will in battle more often than not simply lend his power to his Brothers rather than using it himself.

Appearance: Brother Olympio is a fairly tanned man, his skin the shade of aged wood, with matching dark hair and brown-green eyes. He is generally bald, with his skin from head to toe covered in tattoos and decorative brands or scarrings from his past though these fade rapidly with time.

Warhammer 40k: Sons of Titan - A Grey Knights RP

Brother Olympio

Name: Olympio

Rank: Battle-Brother

Specialisation (If any): N/A

Psychic Aptitude: Olympio is a very powerful psyker even by the standards of the Grey Knights, the leadership of the Chapter considering him for the Librarius or even the Prognosticars should his career prove fruitful; however, his powers are rather unfortunately for a Grey Knight in the fields not immediately tangible in the battlefield; very powerful telepathy, divination, and even the power of logokinetics are natural to young Olympio. Thus he will in battle more often than not simply lend his power to his Brothers rather than using it himself.

Appearance: Brother Olympio is a fairly tanned man, his skin the shade of aged wood, with matching dark hair and brown-green eyes. He is generally bald, with his skin from head to toe covered in tattoos and decorative brands or scarrings from his past though these fade rapidly with time.

Warhammer 40k: Sons of Titan - A Grey Knight RP

As of the 8th edition Grey Knight codex most of what Matt Ward wrote went through soft retcon

Warhammer 40k: Sons of Titan - A Grey Knight RP

In it to win it.

War Never Changes 2 : A Post Nuclear Nation Roleplay

Flavius Valerius Pontificus Augustus Maximus Vulpes Inculta Constantine Invictus Caesar

"...Three new gunsmiths, seven blacksmiths, a chem lab, a salt mine, three brahmin ranches, a radio station and accompanying press, and a sulfur mine.”

A man in the tent scoffed.

“Half a million denarii investment and a single salt mine? My dear Emperor this is absurd the Utah governor has made a mockery of your trust! We should return to the previous distribution of funds it does not do to give such favour needlessly.”

“Thank you for the input, Colorado. However as stated before until the 80s dreggs and Mexico are subdued Utah, New Mexico and Arizona will have disproportionate investment. I doubt you truly require more funds, no? The few tribes not under the protection of the Brotherhood are trivial work if there are even any left, no?”

“Of course m’Lord, but think of what a beauty could be made of Denver!”

“Later, Governor, later.”

Vulpes did not enjoy these talks. He went through with them with the full extent of his competency of course, but he had become a Frumentarii because that was where he knew he could make the greatest impact.

“Dolos, what progress can you report?”

“My Lord, I think you will be most happy with what we have managed to do.”

Reaching into a pocket of his pre-war suit he removed two wads of paper which were NCR and pre-war dollars respectively. “The margin of error is asymptotically approaching those of the originals. We haven’t tried any other currencies but I believe we may be able to achieve similar results to any nation’s mints.”

Vulpes smiled. The ability to create falsified currency was a thought in the man’s head for a long time. Intelligence revealed that the Brotherhood of Steel’s most potent assaults upon the NCR were grounded in attacking the republic’s financial institutions and this knowledge would certainly be useful when the inevitable confrontation with the NCR would come again.

“Most excellent.” He said. “But tell me, the other project, has it come to… fruition?”

“Yes, it has.” The ghoul whistled and another of his kind (both Frumentarius and ghoul covered in sewn-on human skins) approached with a pip-boy that played a holotape of some indecipherable cacophony.

All present knew what it was.

“The seeds of Techatticup do bear fruit. Not as potent as I had hoped, but also far more transportable than I previously expected.”

“You tested it?”

“Yes.”

“The results?”

“I used a terminal to graph the effects. You may view them my Lord. With approximately one hundred test subjects we have found the waste to be able to - depending on dose in the water - create effects from as mild as diarrhea, nausea, fever, and more to ones as severe as nearly instant death and ghoulification. A water supply poisoned with a single barrel will destroy that community for years until a painful and expensive cleaning process purifies it.”

“You have out done yourself, Dolos.”

“Well I thank you m’Lord, but I would still request more funding for a continuation of the project. In camp searchlight we can find much more of the same in a manner that is so compact and yet so powerful…..”

“It is under review, Master Dolos. We must also temper our expectations in a hypothetical campaign of mass-poisonings of course. For now turn your attentions to the 80s, we shall review retrieving the radioactive material at Searchlight in a month’s time. Now let us turn to to reviewing the Aurelian Campaign.”

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Legio Mexicanus

There she was, la Belle Mexico. Full of so many mysteries and wonders promised to Aurelius and the Legion at large. Oil, stockpiles of arms and munitions intended for the occupation long ago, and millions of souls yet uneducated to the glory of the Bull. Already on the march into the land some tribes and communities were encountered, and only one community and two tribes were foolish enough to try and resist an army in the tens of thousands. They were crushed of course, but before Aurelius could give them a taste of the old Legion’s conquest one of those new Grey Frumentarii put a firm hand on his shoulder, and he reared in his men.

Emperor Vulpes Inculta would most certainly be pleased when the news reached him, one more step in the path of the man’s retribution before the eyes of his Emperor.

Aurelius rubbed on the collar at his neck. After their duel the slave’s bomb was wrapped around him exactly where his throat was slit, before it managed to heal. The wound got salt forced into it such that when the collar went over it would forever bring Aurelius great pain until it was removed — which would most certainly not be in the foreseeable future. Truth was he didn’t mind the pain, what the man cared more about was the symbolism of the thing, what mattered was that he was now a slave of sorts. The mere thought that he - the conqueror of Phoenix! - was a slave! Well it would be gone in good time, and great Laurels would sit in its place. Perhaps once Mexico was integrated he would even have the honour of leading the campaign against the NCR!

For now though, he had to set his eyes on the current prize: Hidalgo, Puebla, Veracruz, with the secondary objectives of Mexico city and Tamaulipas, the tertiary objective of Guadalajara, Sinaloa and Tabasco, and the ternary objective of the rest of Mexico.

Aurelius knew that with but a few years he could do it all.

From the Frumentarii and Speculatores sent ahead of the main force a picture pleasing to the man was painted. The largest parties they could discover were two rival Empires with both claiming to be heirs of some ancient Throne of the land. Aurelius found no irony in dismissing them, whilst wearing a Galea and having his armour gilded with Latin phrases. They were both powerful in their own right, Mexico's salvation from direct nuclear hellfire letting the land grow to great prosperity in contrast to America proper. Great farms grew crops to feed the whole Legion, while many instances of pre-war technology operated just as well as before the bombs fell.

Supposedly these two Empires had a fair bit of advancement. They had working vehicles, perhaps even more than the NCR albeit with no vertibirds to call their own, the extent of their aeronautics being microlight flyers. They had stalemated each other, their long war of more than a century leaving them blissfully unaware of the danger coming for them. Both Empires had armies larger and far better equipped than the force under Aurelius. But they had grown complacent, and largely were deployed against one another; the well prepared army of the Legion would be marching right onto their flank previously unfortified believed to present no danger beyond occasional Vaquero bands. The fact these raiders had disappeared was news taken with delight, and it seemed nobody had questioned why they had. No matter, they were a good warmup and a source of supplies for the Legio Mexicanae.

Currently there were two goals for Aurelius to achieve in the immediate term. He had to take Chihuaha and Hermosillo to be staging points for the rest of the campaign. With the loss of two major areas the Habsburgs would feel pressure, and their Iturbide enemies would feel arrogant with only clues to their new threat. If all went to plan, this would be capitalized upon by the Legion and with the integration of the Empires the Legion would have a grand new population and resources. Oh, how glorious it would be….

Onwards, to Hermosillo, to Chihuaha! At the front of the column thousands strong Aurelius walked with the flag of the Bull wrapped around his rifle, and he let a song come from his lips that slowly echoed along with his men. The Legion was in Mexico, and much blood would be spilled....

The Division | Mao Mao & Andreyich

PENNSYLVANIA PLAZA // JAMES FARLEY POST OFFICE

Between the crossfire, the explosives lobbed at them, and the disadvantage of the attacker the rogue police were overwhelmed and forced to retreat. In a way it was humourous how some gave themselves up such that their comrades would be able to escape. They had enough of a sense of heroism to sacrifice themselves for their friends, but not enough to actually continue to protect and to serve.

Though Badger didn't give chase to the fleeing renegades he made sure to keep on firing at them as they pulled out in an effort to make sure as few of them as possible got away, their cowardice and treachery not left unpunished... of course there was also the pragmatic side of the matter, wherein by eliminating these men he would make the efforts of bringing peace and order back into the city much easier.

Having made sure the foe was fully routed, Badger reloaded all his weapons and flicked them to safety before putting them away. Approaching the defenders with his counterpart, Badger examined the scene while the others spoke. Following Bates into the depths of the building the picture painted was not a very pretty one. If this was what remained of people loyal to the government then hope - valuable as it could be - was forlorn.

When Romero told the Doctor to leave rather than finish tending to her Badger raised an eyebrow, though he didn't say anything. In his opinion it was a shitty little display of one's ego's hopes at making an image of a badass that had a good chance of repercussions be it an infection or undue bloodloss. Not being a man of very many words Don didn't mind having Firefly introduce Badger for himself but he supposed the woman had to hear it from himself to help make sure she could trust the duo before herself.

"Agent Donald Hayes, ma'am." He said, saluting with the aim of a little sycophantry so they could get the introductions over with faster.

Battle of the Nations

Iouldouz had a rudimentary understanding of all the languages spoken in the structure, but he was not an expert in any of them and for that there was a third man with him, the interpreter Ruslan Kulambetov. A man from a mixed family living in between worlds, he relayed the thoughts of his Khan to the rest of the commanders in an eloquent but understandable way.

"In theory a good outline for how we'll do battle. But ultimately I believe it flawed on the basis that once again it is an attempt at playing the game against the house, that being the Emperor. In my opinion the man needs to be baited. Early at dawn we will push artillery forward and bombard them as much as possible; I will devote my horsemen to carrying fresh powder and balls if needed, we must make it seem as if our logistics are far greater than they have been and that thus we are ready to carelessly use our munitions with the aim of forcing an advance before his men are bombed to mush. His reaction should be monitored, and if he does not respond to the ceaseless bombardment then we should cease; it should be made to appear that this was bluff for the reason that our logistics were in fact abysmal, rather than excelsior as in the previous bluff or simply adequate as is the truth. This in turn would hopefully make him press an over-aggressive assault on the assumption our munitions have run out."

Steepling his fingers, Iouldouz paused thoughtfully. "Of course, this gamble of a mind game may not pay off. In such a case we must seize the initiative and attempt to end the battle before the effects careless use of ammunition starts to become noticeable. Quite simply put the line infantry would thus be made to advance in as wide a line as possible, with cavalry and skirmishers sent to advance aggressively on the flanks. The skirmishers should be given to not engage the enemy's skirmishers in the woods if possible, and to simply advance further such that the foe may be enveloped, and struck from all sides. Furthermore, if possible the cavalry should not engage the rear of the foe's infantry formation but rather ride past fire and to the enemy's artillery if the gaps can be found."

With that he shrugged. "Of course, I am but one of this collective, and I cannot insist on a plan without the consent of the other commanders. I shall be more than happy to go along with the plan of the most honourable von Nordmann, albeit I warn my men are most adept in engagements that are not too long. They're not afraid of gunfire as some colonial tribals, but their nerves do crack under too many cannons set against them."