BigPapaBelial

Lost but not Alone (Sci-fi gang rp)

I'm going to need some time with this one. See what I can come up with.
The main idea is there. Gonna need to fit him into the new outline.

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

Victor popped GMG rounds off at the wall from his position. He was a little further outside cover then the rest at the moment. But it's not until Natalie steps out that he does all the way too. Rounds spattering against his suit. A few rounds kicking and cracking off his face plate even. Making himself a big target for the guns to fire on. Couldn't let his fiancee show him up after all. His Mk19 joined the rattle of the GAU with it's raaazt, his own weapon's repeated chung-chung-chung of rounds firing. He listened to the comms in his helmet, "Twelve rounds sound about right." He let out a grunt as a large .50 round slammed into the side of his knee. Throwing his balance off briefly. He was righted a moment later. Looked up and bracketed the gun that he thought had hit him with fire from his GMG.

Meanwhile Carl was bunkered down behind a low stone wall with some of the BlueSword mercs. He grunted as a round whickered off his shoulder plate. That same round would have taken off the arm of the man beside him who ducked with a yelp. Another man down the line called over to him, "Sir! This cover is gonna go soon if those guns keep trying to pick on us." Carl looked over, the wall used to be about 5 feet tall, but had been whittled down to four feet. He grit his teeth, "Right okay." He peeked up and over the wall, not worrying at the moment as the big guns were trained on Victor and Natalie. He spotted another cover point to their nine. And he nodded, "Alright big guns are on the big guys. Smaller guns are still spraying. Up and over the wall and sprint for the cover at just a little beyond nine o clock. I'll cover as best I can." He then got up, and started to blurt rounds up at the top of the wall, sending a few of the men up their diving for cover. The BlueSword quickly got to their feet and beat feet for the new cover. Carl followed them shortly after, thumping into cover just as one of the .50s turned and tried to get some fire on him. He could take those lighter 5.52, 5.56 and 7.62 rounds just fine. But he didn't want to risk that 12mm .50 cal in his armor. He thumped into cover with the rest of the men he was with and rolled his shoulder, "Fuckin' eh this is intense. Fire from here." He ran up to the front, joining Ross and Jenny at the front, just behind Victor and Natalie.

He was just in time for the first of the arty rounds to land. He ducked into cover. Clouds of dust, pulverized stone and pieces of rock as big as his head sailing into the air. A boulder the size of his fists put together hissed by. Victor was out of cover fully and moving right before the last two rounds hit. And was running with Natalie for the wall and the open area on the setting. He slammed his GMG onto his back and drew his gunstock club and a shotgun. Someone would need to get in there quick, take out the shooters quickly, and make room for the rest to approach. And he couldn't think of a better choice then himself and Natalie. He charged in, a warcry streaming from his helmets speaker unit.

He reached the breach and is right behind Natalie. While she ventures in he puts his shoulder to the warped steel and before god and every one bends it even further out. The whirr and sparking of his leg actuators telling in just how much power he has to put in it. He widens the breach a fair bit, maybe another two feet before he turns and joins his shotgun fire with Natalie's fire. Picking off the shell shocked shooters on the wall.

Carl turns and shouts at the BlueSword soldiers, "What's the matter? Feel like living forever? Your Juggernauts are tearing ass. Do your worst. Let's go!" He lead the first group of them forward, and into the breach joining Natalie and Victor inside.

The area just past the wall is all limestone walls, and crushed rock. A natural cave for the most part, until about 500 meters in where it starts looking like there has been a drill and tools applied to it. The floor is less rock and more compressed stone. The walls are reinforced with concrete.

The men on the wall were quickly taken care of once there was a force in behind the wall. And the group were able to move deeper into the cave. It'd be a surprise to find that the cave soon began to spiral down, somehow someone had created a much larger base in there then there should be. As they progressed down they encountered a few small groups of fighters come up and out of the base below. Luckily there is a great deal of cover on the way down, well luckily for one side or the other. It isn't until they had descended almost all the way down INTO the mountain back to ground level that they find they have come across a glass, steel and plastic realm. Looking like a place picked out for some wierd covert video game location.

Victor carefully makes his way into the first room of the high tech almost space age material base warily, "What am I seeing here exactly?" He says this outloud as he slowly scans the area with his shotgun.

One Hand on the Trigger, One Hand on the Cross Interest Check

Christ my Lord, your Work's been done...give me heaven or kingdom come!
The Preacher

The sins of a man stay with him, no matter what he does. Men die for loyalty, for love, for money and for nothing. The Rustler, the gambler, the rambler and the backstabber will all get their rightful endings sooner or later. If there's anything you may know about life on the Frontier, it's that justice, be it by the law, the posse, or the mob is absolute. Eventually it will take you. And be it to hell, or be it to heaven, you'll reach your rightful destination.

All of us have done something here to warrant a death sentence. Maybe you bilked a saloon out of hundreds in cash and chips, and some high placed owner wants you dead. Or you're a former military man, who deserted his company, after killing your commander, the military will find you, and they'll put you before the rifles for it. Maybe just maybe you think you had every right to rape that woman and slit her open from groin to brain, maybe it's because she was too pretty for her own damned good and she deserved to be left in that heap behind the brothel. You'll get yours, it's a fact of life out here.

In the end it doesn't matter what you are, or what you did death comes for us all. Just hope it happens quick. No one wants to see you turning blue from a garrote...or maybe that's exactly what you deserve. It's not up to me to decide.

But Christ...oh Lord...what have you done? Will you see heaven, will you see kingdom come? Or will you see nothing but fire and brimstone?

So it's been awhile since I've tried to run anything here. But this idea is something that I want to try.

I'm going to get this out there right at the beginning, if you're coming in here expecting that you'll be playing the triumphant bandit or gunslinger in here and living until the end of the RP, well you're dead wrong. Every player character in this RP is going to die. This isn't a Hunger Games thing though. I wouldn't stop you if you wanted to try and kill each other off, but that's not the point.

Everyone in this RP has done something to get a kill bounty on their head. The Blood and brimstone preacher who shot down his own flock after he found them all worshipping satan. The pencil mustached gunfighter, killed one too many people, and rather then being cheered, has the law after him where ever he goes. It's merely a matter of time. At this point there is no amount of good deeds or repenting you can do to fend off the death you're going to get.

It just happens to be how long you can last before you either face a bullet in the back, or end up swinging from a noose on a tree out in the desert. There's nothing but blood in the eyes, and blood in their hearts for those of you who run and in those who follow you.

This is merely the interest check. Take a look at it, ask me any questions you may want to ask. And we'll see if this flies.

EDIT

It was just me trying to get ideas out of my head. Didn't think it'd actually go through.

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

It's been one month kids.

One month since we had an IC post in here. Come on. Let's get this moving again.

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

Victor made a proper mess of things on the stone gate and the walls at the top of the road. His HUD telling him that Natalie, Ross, Carl and Jenny were making their way up under his fire. The BlueSword Mercs who had come with them entering another hole in the wall to his left. He’s a one man destruction crew. Hammering rounds into the walls. Chasing the enemy back into their holes deeper inside the fort. He pulled up his GMG as he heard Natalie, “Alright ceasing heavy fire.” Carl smiled, “Well that’s fantastic I was getting worried.” He ducked out of cover, firing from the hip with his M249. Rounds sparking off the ground and on metal sheets around the inside of the fort.

The inside of the base consisted of a large number of low squat buildings, made of mud brick and mortar, some of them up armored with pieces of steel stolen from construction sites. Or over-laid with corrugated steel sheets. It’s a warren, a last ditch effort kind of place everywhere. The last of this terrorist army are jumping into fall back positions, slipping into houses, disappearing into holes in the ground like cockroaches disappearing from the light. But despite this they still fought. The houses made amazing firing positions, offering multiple angles and over lapping fire oppurtunities. For the BlueSword mercs they need to get in cover. But it’s Victor, Natalie and the other Juggernauts who can wade into the battle. Victor used one more round to blow the two gate doors inward then almost casually walked right through the. The shower of rounds hitting him from small arms like 7.62 and 5.56 rounds weren’t so bad. He didn’t mind. But there is work to be done.

Outside the base, Nolan was scoped in when he heard Andrew’s warning about an approaching vehicle. He moved his position over, getting an eye on it, “Must have been that APC we saw leave earlier. Coming back after their patrol.” He got into position, adjusted for wind, time of day and distance. He waited for abit, waited, let Andrew fire so the vehicle stopped. He then squeezed his trigger. Worked the bolt, squeezed and worked the bolt again and again. A trio of rounds in the air. A trio of targets being blown clear of the stopped BTR. He grinned broadly. Pulling his eye away from his rifle. It took him a moment or two to let out a soft groan of pain. His hand coming up to his brow, rubbing a curving line of red just above his eyebrow, “Fuck…I got scope bit. The hell I thought I was a professional!?”

On the valley floor the Task Force from the Armies arrived. Grunts, Rangers and Marines forming up and starting to make their way up the mountain. It’s the General who gets on the horn to Natalie and Ross, they being the senior officers up there, “Captain, Major, Task Force Clean Up on site. Artillery will be set up momentarily, teams of Marines, Rangers and Soldiers are making their way up the pass as we speak! We have an AC-130 circling into air space in 10 minutes and will provide close support when on station. General Felix out for now. Channel 8 for support you two. Out.”

Time passes

The fight through the base is tough. BlueSword soldiers backing the two Super Heavies and the three Heavy Juggernauts up closely. It’s close quarters and brutal. The only wide through fair is a coverless lane that leads from the gate, up to a large administration building then hangs a sharp right heading towards the face of the mountain. The building having outstanding lines of fire down that main throughfare. Pretty much forcing all but Victor and Natalie to duck into the side streets and small paths between buildings. Which wasn’t much better really. The fighting in the back streets is house to house. Carefully making their way through, clearing buildings. Atleast once the occupants of building choose to firebomb the house when it looks like the BlueSword Mercs or a Juggernaut was about to take it. And thus came the rush to get out and away from the fire. This happened several times as the fight through the base continued.

As the group made it’s way ever closer to the administration building the survivors of the firefights in the barracks and the side buildings ran to the admin building. Bolstering their defenses. The Juggernauts with back up soldiers knew they would have to either storm that admin building or make sure the enemies inside couldn’t use their open flank against them. It was eventually decided that Victor would do something spectacular. He cued up all his rockets on the base supports of the building. Then coupled with some withering suppressive fire from the other juggernauts and the BlueSword mercs he strode out into the middle of the street, braced himself, and unleashed every rocket in his pods that he had. He caused the lower half of the building to collapse on itself. And the upper half to partially cave in on itself. Trapping any survivors left inside.

As the lead spearhead group of Juggernauts and mercs took the admin building the first elements of the Task Force from below reached the fort. And began to dig out any remaining insurgents behind the main team.

But things took a turn for the surreal. When the Juggernaut team and the mercs were faced with a huge steel wall, built into the face of the mountain. The fort structure hid this from the outside. The drones never saw it. There’re more to the base. And the main problem. The wall, is armed. Two huge Bushmaster auto cannons turned out suddenly as well as gun ports that allowed insurgents in the mountain to fire down and into the group outside. There were fifty cal MGs pissing bad news out at them. Even Victor and Natalie had to duck into cover. Luckily it didn’t seem like they had any explosive ordanace besides the autocannons.

Carl pressed himself up against some cover and shouted out over the radio, “Cap! What the hell do we do here? We can hit that thing all day and all night and then into the next day and night, and still not make a dent. No offense Major or to you Master Sergeant, but this is some heavy shit.” He ducked as one of the autocannons turned to bracket his position. The BlueSword Mercs with him jostling abit, trying to keep behind solid cover with that heavy gun hammering their position. Victor grunted leaning out then ducking back as a fifty drilled the corner of his building, “I have to agree. There is not a lot we can do against an armed wall of armor like this.” He checked his rocket pods, which were still undergoing auto reload after that devastating strike on the admin building. Not that he’d be able to safely use them at this point. He couldn’t give them a clear shot on the wall. He wasn’t even sure if they’d have any affect on the wall anyway, “Ideas? Anyone?” He twisted around the corner, and raised one of his shotgun and fired a few rounds up towards the top of the 40 foot wall, sending off a few rounds at the shooters up there. He ducked back into cover and pushed the people with him back a few steps as a fifty and one of the cannons rounded on his position. He grunted as masonry and bounced all around him, one large piece of stone pinging off the face plate of his helmet.

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

Oh there's loads of potential.

People just need to buckle down and get in on this.

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

Tyler took position on one of the far edges of the spear point formation. He pulled his own NVGs down over his eyes. Just a two lens like normal. Just straight up bifocal rather then a mono focal or the bosses fancy four lens panorama view NVGs, he wanted to get a pair like that. Would be really useful. He made due for now of course. He tucked his C8 up close to his shoulder, moving in tight conjunction with the group. He joined in on alley clearing, he kept his weapon light off for now. No reason to have a small bright sun pinpointing his position. He caught up to the rest of the group after covering an alley. He got to see the backsides of the soldiers heading higher up towards the main camp. He kept one of them pinned through his C79, just in case the order came to tap them. It'd be easy too, he kept the man in his sight until they were outside of effective range. Then took up a covering position, sighting down a main road, as the others went into the building. He kept his weapon straight ahead, he didn't make the mistake of sweeping his weapon back and forth and thus providing a visual cue to anyone who might be looking that there is someone there. Instead he kept his eyes open, keeping his movement to a minimum, watching, moving his eyes more then his body. Nothing came, which he could felt down about. He could vaguely hear the action within. Merlin's devastating first strike and the follow up by another of the team. He smiled a little, nothing like a well oiled top tier team to mess shit up.

As the order came for himself and Wolf to move to the next building he whispered an acknowledgment into his throat mic, "Roger, Wilco." He got up from his position carefully, and motioned to Wolf with a nod. He took point. He cinched his rifle up tight to his chest, drew his Hi-Power, clicked off the safety and pulled his P-Sark off his shoulder. With a flick of the quick release catch the 4 inch curved blade popped out and locked in place. He moved his way down the street, keeping to shadow and cover. It was 40 meters but still alot of room. And wouldn't be a picnic. He hadn't gone more then ten when he heard movement. He motioned for Wolf to get down, and waited along the wall. A patrol of two walking out of a small little alley, barely large enough to allow them to walk shoulder to shoulder. He stepped in as the second man cleared the alley. He caught the rearward man with the slide of his pistol, right on the nerve coming up off the shoulder. That one nerve that will drop nearly anyone for a good few moments. He fell like a brick. The second man started to turn until Tyler stepped in, jumped off his right foot and drop kicked the man in the spine, then landed on the back of his head with the same foot. There was a soft squish as something happened to his face and the back of his skull as the heavy combat boot crunched something. The other man had fallen to his knees, Tyler swung on him and made two quick motions with his P-Sark, snick-snack. That was it. The man's throat opened up on the front with two deep cuts. Tyler finished it off with a knee to the face.

He fell into a crouch aiming down the alley they had come from. When no more motion came he motioned for Wolf to continue. He made quick work of the bodies. Burying one under a mass of garbage and refuse. It'd take some time to find under there. The other he shoved under one of the houses. That would be an interesting one. If anyone thought to look it'd take awhile to find the body. He caught up to Wolf as they got to the house.

He checked their six carefully, whispering into his mic, "Alright, so what shall we do? One back one front ma'am? Or go the front and hell or high water the place? On your mark."

Bot Reporting 2.0

browsing RPs for once and find http://www.roleplayerguild.com/users/pointzerozero8 In the general area.

Blood Runs Over Westeros: A Game of Thrones Roleplay. V2

The Ironborn

Lord Cidran Harlaw, his brother Maxos and Lil’ Ant Harlaw all stood in the ruins of a Westerland river town. The place functioned as a trade center. Barges moving up and down the river to the coast and then up to places inland where goods are exchanged back and forth. But today, the town burns. The Lord of the Harlaw family has one hell of a chip on his shoulder when it came to the Westerlands, especially the houses of Brax and Crakehall. Any time he could manage he’d go out of his way to leave a message for either of the Houses. And today Cidran, his brothers and their three ships are deep into the heart of the Westerlands. Every single soldier stationed here already a corpse, just a few of the civilians remain, many of them also butchered and left to become maggot food on the streets, and inside their burning homes.

Cidran breathes in deep, smelling the carnage. His brothers and their raiders stood in the city center, around a very nice looking bit of masonry that was at one point a fountain, but the tip of it, a Crakehall emblem now lay crushed to one side, a soldier head impaled upon the stump of stone at the top. His still open eyes stared into the distance blankly. Cidran turned slowly, to look at the few remaining citizens of the town, a bailiff of the town court, the mayor, a few families here and there, the children of which were being taken to the ships, to be broken and trained as Thralls. He chuckled softly. Looking at the last remaining Westlanders here, “So, I’m sure you’re curious what this is all about.” He grinned as a few of the raiders walked by all casually with some of the spoils of the raid. A big chest of silver and some food and drink. One of them already drinking deeply of a big bottle of beer. Cidran chuckled, “I know how much you must hate us for this. But this isn’t your fault. Nor is it ours. If you blame anyone while going to your graves, blame your great lord King Tyget Crakehall. He’s the one who started this. And he’ll be the one to pay for it. But not in your lifetime I’m afraid.” At a nod his brothers and raiders struck, all but the mayor was left alive after the Ironborn fell on the last members of the town. Throats were slit. Maxo set a record with how far he can knock a head off someone’s shoulders with his mace. Antom Harlaw ended his victim with a quick slick push of his long dagger through her shoulder down into her heart. The only man left was the mayor. It’s Cidran who walks up on him, “You’re going to be the signature of our message. When someone finds this town burnt to the ground, cinders blowing in the wind. They’ll find you all. But you most of all.”

Cidran fell upon the man. His sword sliding free, a dagger in the other hand. The mayor had a quick end. But the desecration of his body was such that few would recognize him. Cidran wanted to send a message. He began to cut, and carve. The eyes were the first to be removed. Torn free of his lifeless head. Set upon the edge of the fountain. Next was the mayors tongue, cut free and placed between the eyes. The man that was the mayor butchered right there as the rest of the town was piled high and set alight. Cidran still worked though. Next came the mans ears, sawn off and placed beside the eyes. Last to come off were the mayor’s balls. His manhood desecrated with a sawing motion of the dagger in his hand. His son Peytr brought him a wooden box, into which Cidran placed the items. And he placed on the edge of the fountain. He left a note atop the box, that read, “The Iron Islands remember, Crakehall.”
Their message to the Westerlands left, the raiders gathered up their loot. Boarded their ships. And with the heave of oars and the billow of sails. Disappeared back out to open water. It would be a day later when a patrol came to the town, finding the devastated town, the grisly container and the note. And not long later that the letter and contents taken to the throne room of Tyget Crakehall.

Several Days Later

Cidran leaned out from the side of the Black Vision, an Ironship fully 120 meters long, with a pair of scorpion launchers and a spitfire launcher on top of that. The mighty ship had one hundred and ten souls aboard, of course armed as you might figure. The Elder Harlaw watches as they cut through the waves off of Old Wyk Island. The raiding had finished, mostly. The ships are returning. And many of the Houses of the Iron Islands are sailing for Old Wyk.

On the way in he’s already seen ships flying the banners of Houses like Botley, Humble, Sharp and Ironmaker. The ship flying his brother in laws colors, those from Blacktyde had pulled up beside them a few hours ago. And his wife and her brother had been playfully shouting jibes and barbs back and forth across the water at each other. His son’s cousin from Blacktyde had swung across on a rope during a swell and the pair were now engaged in a friendly sword duel on the deck of the Iron ship, practicing to fight during the dips and swells of the water.

Ahead the shore below Nagga’s Hill loomed. There were already a few ships beached up on the rocky shore. One flying the banner of House Stonetree, another flying the colors of House Volmark. Cidran hrmed as he jumped off the rigging and landed beside his brothers. He groaned and popped his back, having landed a little badly. His little brother Jonaton reaching back and helping him stand tall, “Easy brother. Don’t hurt yourself before the Moot. You’re our best bet after all.” Cidran growled, “Even if I don’t want the Seastone chair brother? I want the Islands to succeed, but taking that Seastone chair on Pyke, that’s not my best outlook of things.” He sighed and stood up full and straight, “But I will put my name forward anyway. Maybe just maybe the name of Cidran Harlaw will be called out the loudest.” He gave a chuckle, and looked back over his shoulder, his brothers here to stand with him, his wife at hand, her hair flowing in the sea air. His son coughing and laughing on the deck after his cousin had landed a proper blow on him.
He shouted out, warning everyone of the upcoming beaching of the ship. He grabbed abit of rigging, While his brother Maxos leaned forward. His wife squealed and grabbed the gunwale. The ship growled and groaned as it hit the sand and rocks with a mighty boom! Several of his men jumping off the ship, crashing to the shore and pulling the ship up a few more feet, securing the might Iron Boat to the shore. And then turning to watch the already gathered Ironborn. These men were here for the Kingsmoot.

Soon Cidran swung down and landed calling out, “I am Lord Cidran Harlaw, Lord of Ten Towers, Lord Harlaw, I come to put my name forth for the Kingsmoot.” A Drowned Man, one of the priests of the Drowned God stepped through the crowd and called out, “Then be welcome to Nagga’s Hill, Cidran Harlaw. We begin as soon as all the Salt and Stone Kings who wish to put their name forth have arrived. Come. Join us on the Hill.”

Somewhere in The Reach

A pot clattered over the heat of the stove. One of several in the underground hidden section of the small building in fact. In the pot a slurry of mashed up vegetation. And what looked like scorpion stingers…or maybe even Manticore tail tips. It’s not really clear, the way they are all just floating there. Could be anything really. After a moment the lid is lifted off the pot, and a pair of green eye peer down at the strange slurry within the pot. A small steel spoon raises then dips in, stirring the mix, once, twice, thrice. A few ginger taps on the side of the pot and it’s closed again, keeping what is likely a very dangerous mix hidden from the eyes of any who might descend into this alcove under the house. Roderick Flower, scion of House Hunt hrms, running a hand over his tattooed shaven head. He heads over to another of the many stoves, their exhaust pipes built through the walls, and cleverly hidden when they reach the surface behind the house. Where smoke or floating embers wouldn’t be out of place.

It's a good few minutes before Roddy heads up stairs to the house and shop he tends too. As you might expect no one entered the building while the slightly eccentric apothercary, brewer and rumoured assassin was out of sight. Some of the items on the shelves, quite dangerous to the people who didn’t know how to use them correctly. There are loads of people who would love to get their hands on essense of nightshade, or concentrated wolfsbane, but those people don’t usually come to the small little shop on the outskirts of one of the many little satellite towns that dot the area around Horn Hill.

It’s still several more minutes later, that we find the young man reading a book on various uses for certain plants and animal parts. Like the poison paste he had taken off the heat. Business this day is fairly light, none of his normal clients or any new clients make their way into his shop. Thankfully he did fairly good business with those people who used his services so he didn’t have to worry about going out of business anytime soon.

So he waited. Maybe just maybe someone would come along to visit Little Roddy Flowers, the Poison Flower of House Hunt.

Blood Runs Over Westeros: A Game of Thrones Roleplay. V2

@kingkonrad

I swear I did not drown my fellow dually elected representative from House Humble. I was actually trying to help him stay above water. He just happened to want to stay below the surface of the water while within my grasp.