BCTheEntity

S-SWAT: Doorkicking, Demons and Drug Busts

So how's everybody doing so far? Pretty good?

The Crucible - Winner Take All

@Lugubrious@ProPro Just posted as Motley. Huzzah, and so on.

The Crucible - Winner Take All

A Plan to Kill Everyone He Meets

Admittedly, he’d been a bit caught up in the thought process of how he’d try to get his stomach acid to be sufficiently potent in order to function as a weapon, without needing to imbue it with Heavy Fuel’s Anti-Ripple. Though he had come up with an idea, and was already feeling it come into effect, that internal distraction had cost Runch his raft, and the pirate captain was now hurtling through the air, on a potential collision course with the water. The water which he was physically incapable of swimming in.

Lucky for him, then, that Motley’s next trick was easily executed from his current position. The parts of his hand that had been destroyed, mere fingernails and blood vessels, would regrow in seconds given the chance; the volley of three missiles would easily reach him before they did. It mattered not, for Motley promptly slashed his extended hand downward, plunging all four trailing vines into the drink beneath him - giving Heavy Fuel a far point from which to rapidly billow outward into the liquid, instantly charging it with his energy.

A mere moment later, a wall of water blasted itself upward, murky with Heavy Fuel’s oil from the perspective of those with Stand powers, and bestowed an opposite charge to the water around it to cause such repulsion. Not only would this serve as a charged barrier against the missiles aimed toward him, but it and the surface of the water would both serve as relatively malleable landing pads for Runch’s body, cushioning him from the impact and helping to prevent him from actually falling into the water. After that, as long as he stayed within range of Heavy Fuel’s power, he’d be just fine.

And on the other hand, the female Stand user had just blown the top off of a nearby church tower, and promptly redirected it to fall straight towards himself and Runch. Apparently, it was as good an idea to them as simply launching missile volley after missile volley - that is to say, equally as futile considering what they were up against. Far from trying to avoid it, Motley made a very deliberate move upward: the water beneath his feet began repelling the water around it, raising him up on a column of liquid as the tower fell, the remnants of his harpoons still trailing through the lake beneath Runch’s feet, keeping him from falling into the drink.

And then came his first shot. Performing a deliberately-exaggerated aerial twirl, Motley open up a slit in his pupil and fired the ultra-pressurised fluid out of his left eye a second before the makeshift attack would strike him. No need to charge it or its twin with Black Ripple energy; even with his own vampiric abilities, there was enough force behind it to not merely pierce, but slice in twain the stone tower itself as its arc passed through. If all went as intended, the oversized projectile would find itself split in half, falling to either side of both himself and Runch to crash comparatively harmlessly around the two.

That would be when he took his second shot. What he’d been sure to do was launch his attack in a way that would plausibly make it seem as though he’d fired both fluid bursts from his eyes at once, and with any luck, even if the shadowy protector Stand had allowed the brother to see what Motley had done, it’d hopefully be too late for him to tell his sister of the deception from her point of view before, hidden from her sight by the falling stonework itself, he could launch the second burst of ocular fluid through the rock and into her heart and lungs - which would be the prime reason that beam too was uncharged, just in case the shadows could protect against an attack infused with Stand-modified energy better than without. And whilst humans were both surprisingly sturdy and shockingly flimsy, such a burst would ideally be an instant kill; the missiles were deadly serious threats, despite their simplicity, and even if he dealt her a mortal wound, if she maintained consciousness at all, she could likely retaliate.

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

Looks a lordy. What a sight... dreadful or otherwise. On the one hand, two Dark Elves had found themselves slain, apparently by one another's own means. And on the other... that stave, surely, was what Fineki had intended him to discover, a curious sight that drew him closer until he stood at the base of the platform it rested upon. A magical weapon of surely substantial power.

And perhaps substantial risk. Two people had died trying to reach it, two Dark Elves at that, and that could mean any manner of things. Perhaps it was an artifact great enough to turn the tides of whatever looming death the Dark Elves had planned - or perhaps it would kill him the moment he touched it, or worse. And Fineki was occasionally fickle, after all... Sett so desperately wanted to take the staff, but he also didn't want to die horribly. He needed more guidance, and he knew his chances of receiving such were perhaps quite low, especially if he sounded as if he were questioning his god's desires... but he also knew a lot about unnecessary risk, and it had always been true that dying in your god's service meant you couldn't serve them even more later on.

Glancing behind him (and seeing that neither Alice nor Argon had followed after him yet, despite what sounded like a lot of noise in the cave he'd left), he bent to one knee, and began rapidly muttering under his breath 'My lord god Fineki, please hear your servant's request; I beseech thee, tell me, show me, what it is you intend for me to do, for I as a mere mortal could never truly know your will so deeply; if it be your favour that I am to take this stave 'fore my allies show, then let such be made clear to me, in your name and infinite fortune.' If he was given an appropriate sign, he'd take the staff and stuff it in his bag of Elven silk before the rest of the party showed; if not, he'd let it be until his allies could offer their own advice. He figured Alice in particular might be good to query on the matter... if it mattered, that was.

@POOHEAD189@Banana@The Fated Fallen@Fetzen

Against the Fangs of God (Mecha / Necromancy Interest Check)

I'm very interested, but can't promise participation due to being involved in a bunch of other games right now. Will there be opportunities to join up later on?

The Fate of Ward 8: A Tokyo Ghoul RP

Bisuto Ketsu

@Old Amsterdam

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Agh. Damn it, but he was a tricky bastard. Ketsu's initial slam maneuver had succeeded, but he'd been lucky to barely avoid losing his grip on the beast's tail, and hadn't managed to keep himself grounded very well when it leapt backwards. How was this guy so strong? Was that a trait of all Chimera ghouls? Research to be done, he supposed.

For now, he had to plan: he'd been yanked in close, and the ghoul was about to take a swing with one of those razor-sharp blades. Whilst the blade itself likely wouldn't injure him, the force behind it might cause some serious injuries...

But then, maybe he could use that to his advantage? As the blade swung at him, Ketsu let go of the tail with one claw, trying to grab the ghoul's arm to use its own momentum against it and throw it to the ground. If that succeeded, his next plan would be to keep a grip on its arm with that claw, pinning it whilst his other claw moved to grab the ghoul's head. It'd most likely need to be done without the tail in hand, risking it smacking him away even if he retained a firm grip on the blade arm (though he'd certainly try to keep hold of that too if he thought he could), but if he could just get its head between a claw, the fight was as good as over: any effort to knock him away would mean the ghoul risked breaking its neck or getting its head torn off, and whilst he'd heard tales of ghouls reattaching their own severed heads, he doubted this one could regenerate from its skull being crushed and its brain pulped.

And after that, it'd be a matter of getting Seto to check on Graye with no other people to observe, distracting the investigator long enough for Ketsu to feed off of the dead ghoul. Perhaps not for too long, just in case... just enough to sate himself for a while. The pulsating neck arteries would be convenient places to stab into, perhaps, to avoid leaving evidence. But not just yet.

S-SWAT: Doorkicking, Demons and Drug Busts

CS

Marcus Harlek

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[32][Wolfbane][M]

Marcus is light-skinned, with curly dark hair and near-black eyes that nonetheless twinkle with amusement. He is of about average height, and extremely muscular for that height. His uniform is relatively standard-issue, depending on the suit he wears in a given operation.

5'9", 225 lbs

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General Appearance:
-Two tattoo sleeves up his forearms, depicting a pair of snarling wolves in black and grey.
-A tattoo of a wolf in repose across his chest in black and grey, with purple eyes looking out observantly.
-A custom ballistic mask, grey with the image of a snarling wolf in black across its front. Can be swapped out for standard-issue gas masks if necessary.

Psych Evaluation:
A patriotic individual with a strong sense of righteousness who wants what's best for the USA, Marcus is fairly easily amused, finding something to laugh about in most situations, even in the heat of battle. He is also very concerned about maintaining his build and strength, and this is what he spends a lot of his free time on when not training with the rest of the group; he often acts in quite a brash manner, being perhaps a bit more friendly than is appropriate with his fellow S-SWAT members at times, and in combat often wades in with little caution, which may or may not be appropriate depending on his current loadout.

History:
Marcus' parents were very much the sort who believed wholly in the American Dream, not to mention the greatness of America itself. This passed on to Marcus himself, at least to a great enough extent that he joined the US military at the age of twenty because of how amazing he considered his country - and that view actually held up long enough for him to decide that if he was to best serve his country, he needed to gain some muscle. There were a lot of physical tasks the US Armed Forces demanded, after all.

And so he began to weight train between operations. Over time, as he rose from Private to Sergeant Major, his view of the United States as a world-class country was tempered by the realisation that some of its actions were not so fantastic after all - and the understanding that if it were to be a truly great place, it'd be people like him who made it so, not the men who sent soldiers in to die. At some point, this caused a conflict between orders he had been given, and the idea in his mind that those orders were inhumane; consequently, he was discharged from the army at the age of 29, moving to New Hampshire afterwards and joining the local PD.

As it turned out, being in the army for nine years, accompanied by consistent strength training in his down time, made Marcus a prime candidate for dangerous police work, which often required a lot of muscle in order to wrestle down a criminal. It didn't take more than a year for him to be recommended for SWAT work within the city, and it wasn't long after the creation of the S-SWAT force that he was subsequently recommended for that as well, with the idea taking on heavy lifting roles that his less bulky squadmates could not.

Gear CS

ROLE

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Loadout 1: Shield

Primary: Ironman ballistic shield, equipped with fold-out legs, a hold-side ladder, and firing holes arranged for up to three assault rifles.
Ammunition: N/A
Secondary: Sig Sauer P226 Tactical Operations - weighted barrel, sports stock, extended beavertail, forward cocking serrations, front strap checkering, adjustable combat night sights, Short Reset Trigger, extended Magwell grips and a Nitron coated stainless steel slide with front cocking serrations.
Ammunition: Silver FMJ 9x19mm Parabellum
Gadget 1/Assault Specialist Equipment: Stinger grenades
Gadget 2: Flashbang grenades
Armour: Brimstone
S.T.A.K.E.: USMC KA-BAR fighting knife

Loadout 2: Assault

Primary: M4A1 carbine - SOPMOD kit.
Ammunition: Silver FMJ 5.56x45mm NATO
Secondary: Sig Sauer P226 Tactical Operations - weighted barrel, sports stock, extended beavertail, forward cocking serrations, front strap checkering, adjustable combat night sights, Short Reset Trigger, extended Magwell grips and a Nitron coated stainless steel slide with front cocking serrations.
Ammunition: Silver FMJ 9x19mm Parabellum
Gadget 1/Assault Specialist Equipment: M203 underslung grenade launcher
Gadget 2: Flashbang grenades
Armour: Raider
S.T.A.K.E.: USMC KA-BAR fighting knife

Loadout 3: Assault (Squad Support)

Primary: Mk 48 Mod 1 - Includes folding bipod and tripod-mounting lug, five Picatinny rails for SOPMOD kit (top of receiver, each side of and under forearm/handguard, top of barrel), carrying handle to assist replacement of hot barrels, and vertical foregrip for increased controllability during sustained fire.
Ammunition: Silver FMJ 7.62×51mm NATO, M13 link belt feed
Secondary: Sig Sauer P226 Tactical Operations - weighted barrel, sports stock, extended beavertail, forward cocking serrations, front strap checkering, adjustable combat night sights, Short Reset Trigger, extended Magwell grips and a Nitron coated stainless steel slide with front cocking serrations.
Ammunition: Silver FMJ 9x19mm Parabellum
Gadget 1/Assault Specialist Equipment: M203 underslung grenade launcher
Gadget 2: Stinger grenades
Armour: Brimstone
S.T.A.K.E.: USMC KA-BAR fighting knife

S-SWAT- Doorkicking, Demons and Drugs Busts

@OfWindAndRain

S-SWAT- Doorkicking, Demons and Drugs Busts

I can't promise participation, but colour me interested.

Gods: Redux: a Deity RP (FULL)

Legio, God of Mankind

For years now, Legio had been considering what was to be done with the Throne of the King of the Gods. The former King, rather; Ephra’s death had been unfortunate, and perhaps avoidable if he hadn’t separated War and Life, but it stood that it was his death that left it empty nonetheless. And whilst Legio had felt himself content to let sleeping dogs lie, as the phrase went, he had been struck with ever-increasing awareness that for as long as the throne went unoccupied, the more likely it was that… unsavoury forces, he could say, would make a move to take it for themselves.

And that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing on its own. Only, if a god rose to supremacy who did not have Man’s best interests in mind, it’d almost certainly mean their suppression for a very, very long time. Knowing the nature of gods, it could well be eternal - though his father’s reign was supposed to be essentially eternal too, and that didn’t pan out. Nor would it, when Mankind finally achieved their utmost… if, should a deity with bad opinions of them make themselves ruler.

And alas, that could be any of them. In truth, Legio lacked many enemies - though he’d certainly never forgive himself if Sylendre somehow managed to crown herself Queen - but many deities had views of Humanity Untainted that were, to put it lightly, neutral at best. And in truth, even those who held positive opinions of them now might change their minds if they perceived a threat. Even Telios, a staunch companion with no reason to see humans as dangerous now, might well decide later on that they needed to be put down. And for what? Achieving what was in effect their birthright as a race, pulling themselves up when all other races were handed the laurels to sit upon by the deities who formed them?

Or, perhaps he was being paranoid. Over-thinking things too much, and admittedly giving his allies less credit than they deserved. Yet… humans had achieved so much in such a short time. It was his very purpose to guide them, to greatness if he were to be asked. What sort of god was he if he allowed them to squander the abilities he knew they possessed, the tools they had already produced and those they might yet create?

This train of thought was processed but slowly, for it was a matter that required careful thought to avoid any missteps. In the end, though, Legio came to his conclusion.

And so it was that he appeared one day in the grandest cathedral of Ephrum, armed and armoured in his full splendour, to hover before a congregation of worshippers and priests who had not expected him to appear to their cries of “come before us, O Master of Mankind”, and who were justifiably awestruck by his appearance. The words he spoke to them and to the city as a whole, laced with grandeur that would be unnecessary in the presence of another deity, and in time in the presence of humanity itself, were thus:

‘Heed me, my children, for I have come to a decision about the future. Mine, and indirectly yours. I do so charge ye, to let it be known throughout the world, in the settlements and cities alike of the human race: Legio, the Emperor of Mankind, seeks to claim the divine throne once held by Ephra, to become King of the Gods, that I might better serve the human race who I was created to protect, and to ensure Mankind as a whole can bring themselves to ever greater heights. Spread this message, and ensure all of humanity is united in this, what might be the single most important endeavour of your race to date. Succeed, and the glory of Mankind shall be eternal.’

The god of Man had never been one for subtlety. He knew full-well that word would spread relatively quickly to the lands of the other gods, who of course may take exception to his announcement. That is, if they didn’t learn it from Legio himself first; the human masses were ever active, and so too must he be if he was to succeed in his quest. The most likely places he’d succeed would be those he currently considered allies, of course, and once they were persuaded, he’d have the support to extend his diplomacy to other, less amenable deities… and then, beyond.

His first stop, the most likely ally of his, would assuredly be Koritomo. The Goddess of War would be invaluable, should it come down to war in the end. And since he could, he decide to fly himself to her lands rather than teleporting directly; he felt the scenic route might be nice for a change. It wasn’t often he got the opportunity to gaze over the landscapes of the world as he soared above them, after all, and if what came next was as time-consuming as he imagined it would be, he might not get another chance.