BCTheEntity

CONGLOMERATE: A Megacorp Based NRP

There's room for a lot of Lorax references in this here game. I shall see if I'm able to participate.

Persona ~ The Beholder

Interacting with Kirsty @Lugubrious, Liam @CriticalHit, and Tate @CondorTalon

Alina Sanford

Studying went decently. Classes were slow, but at least she didn't have to interact with the people next to her for them. Just listen and write down notes, was all. And after that... lunch, more studying- blissfully quiet, thank God- and finally, the day's long-awaited end at 5:30 PM. Just in time to receive some texts from Mary.

Hi, Alina!
Sorry about the weirdness earlier! That was wild, right?
Do you still want to come over?? I really would like to help you with food and study and stuff.

Blugh. She'd been putting it off, but... she needed to address this crush thing, didn't she? That might be important? But, well... maybe she was mistaken earlier? And even if she wasn't, it didn't mean anything as long as Mary didn't act on it. She didn't need to bring it up. There was no point making it awkward. Maybe she'd bring it up on a less cruddy day. She was starting to feel a bit sickly, actually, swimming vision... well, Mary wouldn't mind if she threw up or anything, would she. Especially not if she had an actual crush on her.

Sure. I'll meet you at your place.

Shit. Fuck, no, why did she write that. She didn't actually want to go to Mary's house, why would she write that out. Fuck. God damn it, she was a fucking idiot, and she was actually starting to feel ill now. Ugh, fuck it all. Fuck, fine, whatever, she could handle it.

---

A few minutes later, and she was realising she really couldn't handle it. By now, though, she suspected she was having some sort of stroke or something? The world was starting to look all kinds of hazy and warped, like a fog was building up or something... she felt rather disoriented, lost, like she couldn't properly make her way around the place, and she could swear she hadn't come across another student for at least a couple of minutes. The closer she got to where she knew the front gate was, the more sure she became that there should be students in the area, especially once she got outside. By now, though... well, there was fog, a real pea-souper at that as her grandad might say, but if it had seeped in from outside, it sure didn't feel like it.

But hey, go figure, with how today had already gone. She woke up in a shit mood, her best friend had all but admitted to having a crush on her, so why not get lost and have a stroke too? And what in the hell was that crying outside the front gate? Was that some kind of stroke hallucination? Shit, she had to go investigate it, didn't she? She needed to get out of the school regardless, so why not do the most obvious horror movie cliche ever.

...oh. It was the prettygirl from earlier. The one who'd given Alina her phone number, hadn't she? And, uh, again, she was crying. Well, grand. That was- oh hey, another guy, aaaand he was flat on his face. Out cold, perhaps.

'So this is a shitshow.'

Granted, she wasn't an expert on people being smart, buuuuut... honestly, she could use a sit down, too. The world was spinning around her and everything. So she did, next to- fuck, what was her name... she checked the note she'd gotten earlier, but no. Apology and number only. Sure, she guessed she had to sort something out.

'So. It's really foggy, and we're either lost or drugged. Is that why you're crying?'

As she asked this, she sort of poked the guy on the ground with her foot, trying to get some sort of response out of him. Hell, if he was out of it too, or worse concussed, or even worse drugged and concussed, well this was just gonna be a super duper fun time.

Decided to try something

Undeath. The cause?

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

Even before the drop pod landed, Sirius had his hands on the hilts of his weapons. Time unarmed was time potentially undefended, and the moment the pod's impact was felt and the restraints released, the falchions were drawn. And yet, as the pod's door lowered, it seemed there were no foes in sight. Perhaps they had fled? Or more likely, they were preparing an ambush. Or they simply hadn't been ready for their arrival.

Nonetheless, an alarm sounded eventually, indicating that yes, they had been noticed after all. The townsfolk came soon after- cultists, one and all, armed with autoguns, stubbers, and the like. Brother Elazar's focus would contract, from the wider battle to his specific target, his gaze erring with eagle-like intensity toward a specific group of cultists even as his senses remained entirely open to the fight. Such was the superhuman mind of a Grey Knight, and such was its speed that this took no more than a few milliseconds.

And then he moved. A full sprint in the direction of his foe, his incredible speed only enhanced further by his armour. Naturally, the group took poorly to being charged, as did many less immediately relevant parties - a hail of gunfire came in his direction, but to this he simply channeled a portion of his psychic ability, exaggerating his reflexes to incredible levels. It would not be a stretch to say that a true master of this power could dodge between raindrops in a thunderstorm; but for Sirius, he merely needed to dodge some of the projectiles with his movement, angle his armour to deflect those that could not be evaded outright, and for one of the more persistent subsidiaries breaking his focus for but a moment to turn it upon them, but a wave of his arm and a thought to do so purging them in a hail of psy-bolts, before he turned back upon those who he'd initially targeted, now almost upon them.

Were he so inclined, he could simply bullrush them down. But this was artless, and to make a habit of it would prove fatal in more serious fights. Instead, to the first cultist he reached, a single Nemesis Force blade swung sideways and ripped his throat open, arteries and all. The other lanced out toward an enemy to Sirius' left, piercing his heart and purging his lifeforce. Pulling both free, he span toward the next, this time a woman, who lost first the hand trying to pull the trigger on her weapon, and then her head. Two more cultists dropped their weapons, and were gutted before they hit the ground, the falchions flashing in bloody, glowing arcs even as Sirius rounded on the final man, who had had the sense to actually draw a sword and try to swing with it. It made contact, but as the man swinging had already been bisected diagonally, the result was a mere "clink" as his limbs lost their strength and his body fell.

Reaching them took only ten seconds. Killing all six took two more. Focusing on another nearby cluster of the damned would be another seven or eight milliseconds; charging into their mass and slaying them would make up another four seconds. And so it went as Sirius passed further into the town proper - these were not dangerous foes, for their weaponry would be potentially threatening only en masse or in larger sizes, and his style of combat was one of agility and constant movement precisely to avoid being bogged down and swallowed by hordes such as this. It seemed, though, that at least one heavy weapons installation had been taken by Brother Basilious, and he imagined more would settle around the area. For Sirius himself, he had yet to meet one from the outset, but anticipated it even as he continued to take out the least forces of Chaos - even with his speed, challenging a lascannon from more than a few meters away was likely to be a ridiculous risk.

He did not wholly anticipate Brother Basilious' message - one of distress, rather than pure victory, and citing heavily armed foes. Perhaps more threatening than these whom Brother Elazar fought?

'I shall be with you shortly, Brother,' Sirius declared, his attention and bulk already moving toward the devastation wrought by Basilious' flames of divine wrath. 'Hold fast. The Emperor Protects.' Backtracking through his own path of death to find and follow his battle-brother's, eliminating as he passed any straggling cultists who would dare to enter his range of action, he quickly discovered the issue: Basilious had been bogged down, by enough enemy troops that even one of their own might struggle. But two? Certainly not.

Sirius did not announce his presence with words. Instead, he did so with his storm bolter, gunning down a triad of cultists firing upon the two from the window of a more intact building before joining Basilious in cover - with intent of brevity, of course. 'Who do we need to kill first?' he asked, already plainly on edge when they could be in combat proper. The sooner he knew, the sooner the Emperor's will could be done.

The Emperor's Duty: A Warhammer 40K RP

Justicar Hektor Autark

Both Kowl and Lance saw fit to try and take one of the Rumblers, so that they could both "lead the charge", as if their desire to outcompete one another wasn't obvious already. Instead, to keep them from getting ahead of themselves and to make best use of their weapons, Hektor ordered both to take the Repressor, and installed himself and the next most senior Judge and Arbitrator on them instead. Sharing with the latter two: Verispex Frea on one, for the sake of protection through agility and early scene analysis; and Handler Ceras on the other, for the sake of keeping up with her cyber-mastiffs and to keep her from talking too much.

Naturally, the Rumblers would lead the way through the city and spireward. It seemed a lot of civilians were either avoiding the wider streets, or actively rioting in them. They had, after all, been declared the living and forgotten dead. However, dealing with them would be a simple enough job later, should it be proven that they deserved it; if the sight of the three assault bikes did not quell the riots, the Repressor's cargo of non-lethal equipment certainly would. And if it so happened that a crowd formed and refused to disperse, well, the angry jaws of two cyber-mastiffs were more than sufficient to strike terror into their hearts, and the sheer bulk of the Rumblers themselves didn't hurt matters either.

Eventually, of course, the bikes reached their destination, halting short of the mansion proper once it entered visual range. Within those walls, a potential army of Enforcers. How many? That marked Michael's first job here - to plan accordingly, of course.

'Verispex Adept Frea,' the Justicar demanded, stepping out of the vehicle along with the other troops, 'what are we looking at in terms of enemy forces?'

'Right...' With a cracking of knuckles, the Adept searched the area, scanning first visually, and then with one of the various auspexes in his suit. Details even Hektor himself wouldn't be able to divine would come naturally to Michael, of course - scuff marks, boot and vehicle prints that had barely left material on the ground, the age of these pieces of evidence and their relevance to the case. Within seconds, they had an answer, delivered in the most certain tone Michael ever really produced, almost robotic compared to his usual awkward cadence: 'At least thrice our own number, no vehicles. Aggressive, but not trained effectively, former gangers almost certainly. Low-quality carapace - still protective, but likely movement-restrictive. Standard weaponry: autoguns, autocannons. Non-standard weaponry: various melee armaments beyond standard shock mauls, grenade launchers armed with krak grenades, lascannon.'

'Pardon me, Verispex, a lascannon?' Autark asked, barely hiding the surprise in his voice.

'Yes, sir. But as stated, they are more aggressive than efficient. Inaccurate, like as not,' Michael proposed in the same sure tone. 'Likely that relatively few Enforcers are trained in the proper firing and reloading rites and procedures. The autocannons will be the bigger problem purely for area denial purposes - simpler to man, but still best to remove as soon as possible.'

'Fffrak it,' Hektor cursed, clenching his teeth and fist both. 'Well, you heard the man. We have heavy weapons, and likely teams who are rare in their capacity to make use of them. Handler Ceras, your job will be to find and eliminate these weapons teams before they inflict unnecessary casualties.'

'Yes, sir!' she replied cheerfully, saluting via the Aquila and gesturing to her seated charges. 'I've been waiting to put these boys to the test for solar weeks, now, it's been-'

'It must have been drudgery incarnate, yes,' Hektor interrupted, 'you don't need to explain how you feel constantly.'

'Ah, sorry sir,' she uttered, a little less exuberantly. 'I'm excited, is all. Ready to get punishing the people breaking Imperial Law, y'see.'

'I can tell, and I won't necessarily begrudge you that.' He wasn't one to quash people's personalities outright - just temper them, the way one would temper a sword to hone its edge. 'Just remember that the cyber-mastiffs aren't invincible, and that these are likely to be the most dangerous foes they face in this purge. If you break them, I can't simply requisition more.'

'Can do, sir. Of course, they're important to me, so I wouldn't just throw them into a wall of gunfire recklessly.'

'Mrh. As for the rest of us,' he instructed them and the other two Arbites, 'we'll make our initial entrance in the vehicles if possible, but once we're out, the Lockshields will prove our best line of defense against any and all opposition- especially you Verispex-' That caught Michael's attention somewhat. '-so ensure they're primed and ready. You have until the Guard secure the area of civilian activity and the Repressor arrives to ask further questions before we begin the operation.'

Persona ~ The Beholder

Interacting with Kirsty @Lugubrious, Liam @CriticalHit, and Tryg @Rethel34

Alina Sanford

Well... they were gone now. Thank goodness. And they both left their statements after the fact - the blond guy left an apology for interrupting, whilst the pretty girl went so far as to leave her number behind. She really wanted to be friends with Alina, huh?

...maybe she ought to apologise later. She was a bit rude, maybe. But at least she had the area to herself; she could study, prepare for class, be alone for a bit. All good things.

Or she could be interrupted again by some jerk on a trombone. This was meant to be a quiet period for her. Why did this have to- was she just getting upset because today started bad and turned overwhelming? Because this tromboning felt like it was overwhelming, despite it being fairly soft music. She sighed again, did her best to cover her ears with a cushion, and attempted to ignore the grating sound of some guy on a trombone.

...she hoped this wouldn't become a trend. Ugh.

Warhammer 40k: It's A Wonderful Life! An Imperial Guard (40K) RP

He took note of the Captain's orders. Do not simply charge at the first opponent seen. This was fine.

The Death Korps marched towards its foes. When ordered to.

Clattering. Aircraft taking fire. Hovering bailout called. Sensible. Lower chance for the craft to be shot down. Lower chance for the squad to be killed.

Death outside. Just as he sought.

415633-983223-17-Zhatka was out second only to the Lieutenant, the Sergeant and scant few other soldiers, and then only because he was forced to first hook his backpack over his free shoulder and reacquire his melta gun. It was rare that the Death Korps made use of air deployment. Basic troops were not taught it beyond necessity. Grenadiers were taught it as accessory to the fastest possible means of making ground contact.

The landing and roll were executed accordingly. Weapons hot. Combat in full course. Chaotic. Dangerous. Without ordered ranks. Undisciplined. Per Captain Di Fieroccu's order, 415633-983223-17-Zhatka did not seek an opponent immediately. Lieutenant Sithech taking cover in a crater. Sergeant Rojack moving to share that cover. Unacceptable weakness.

415633-983223-17-Zhatka would be forced to join them. Chain of command. Undisciplined clumping. Natural consequence. Unfortunate. He moved in their direction at a march, his weapon primed to fire at any foes in range. None presented. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka dropped into the crater without incident. Waited for remainder of command squad. Silent. All he needed to say had been said.

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

Brother Elazar

Name: Sirius Elazar

Rank: Battle-Brother

Specialisation: Sirius has no particular specialisation at the moment, though in melee combat, his preferred weapons are a pair of Nemesis Force Falchions, weapons that demand finesse and dexterity from the wielder.

Psychic Aptitude: At the basic level, Sirius has mastered the standard powers wielded by most Grey Knights, but with his evident bent toward dexterity, he has taken time to practice imbuing himself and his fellows with heightened reflexes, dexterity, and accuracy, ensuring swift and immediately devastating blows when needed.

Appearance: Pale is the word to describe Brother Elazar. His hair and eyes have both been bleached of colour, and his skin is alabaster, close to translucent over his powerful frame, the image completed with a relatively subtle facial structure compared to some of his brethren. One could argue he has a sort of charm to him, but it is a charm derived from his intensity rather than his social graces, and it is easy to tell what his focus is at any given time, for his entire attention shifts to accommodate; whilst he is intensely energetic and rarely remains still on his feet, especially in battle, this is as much a side effect of this total focus as of his personality.

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

Brother Elazar

Name: Sirius Elazar

Rank: Battle-Brother

Specialisation: Sirius has no particular specialisation at the moment, though in melee combat, his preferred weapons are a pair of Nemesis Force Falchions, weapons that demand finesse and dexterity from the wielder.

Psychic Aptitude: At the basic level, Sirius has mastered the standard powers wielded by most Grey Knights, but with his evident bent toward dexterity, he has taken time to practice imbuing himself and his fellows with heightened reflexes, dexterity, and accuracy, ensuring swift and immediately devastating blows when needed.

Appearance: Pale is the word to describe Brother Elazar. His hair and eyes have both been bleached of colour, and his skin is alabaster, close to translucent over his powerful frame, the image completed with a relatively subtle facial structure compared to some of his brethren. One could argue he has a sort of charm to him, but it is a charm derived from his intensity rather than his social graces, and it is easy to tell what his focus is at any given time, for his entire attention shifts to accommodate; whilst he is intensely energetic and rarely remains still on his feet, especially in battle, this is as much a side effect of this total focus as of his personality.

CONTAINMENT: Welcome to Facility B

Blade

'Wha- no, Dol-' Nope, she wanted to be in here now. Everyone else was coming in, after all. He sort of dithered on whether to kick her out of the room again for a moment, then decided, fuck it, she's not freaking out so much anymore. Kids were adaptable, right? This was fine, she'd be fine. And hey, the teenager had flipped some tables up to block the view anyway, it was all fine and dandy. He placed the stuff down for himself, Dolly, and Dougie, all the bowls and cereal bits and that, and then found himself watching as the single quiet guy... oh, fuckin' sick, he was writing in his own fuckin' blood. Holy shit.

'Goddamn, that's fuc- that's freakin' nasty, cabrón,' he announced, sort of staring as the guy kept on spitting up blood to write in, up until they finally got his name: Mute. Though that said... he had coffee. 'Were you drinking that with the open...' He totally had been, now that he thought about it. Holy shit, that was kind of hardcore. But a red triangle... he looked down at his own shirt. Purple. Some of these guys probably had something similar, right?

'Ay, any of you guys have a red triangle on your shirt?' he called out, gesturing for Dolly and Dougie to come over to where he'd arranged breakfast for them. They were all in the same area to start with, at that... they'd probably all have the same purple on them too, right? What did those mean, anyway?