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3 yrs ago
Current Auld Lang Syne, everybody. roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
4 yrs ago
Vote in my new quest, Mirage, a RP quest set in the far, far future roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
5 yrs ago
Kink-Shaming. Kink-Shaming Never Changes.
3 likes
5 yrs ago
roleplayerguild.com/posts/5… Vote for Dead in Depression. The mechanics of the quest have now been posted!
5 yrs ago
Voting is open until the end of the week! Please come and vote! - roleplayerguild.com/topics/…
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Finished for now. Will work on it more later.

Working on the CS. Possibly will be done by the end of this week.
Oh, I have several questions.

- What about the presence of Japanese corporations or zaibatsu's within this RP?
- Are we, the players, allowed to world-build within the brief synopsis of the setting you have illustrated for us in the OP?
- What are your expectations for us as role-players? Because you posted this interest check in the casual and advanced sections.
Gimme gimme gimme.
Goddammit, just what was Lancaster’s plan? Jimbo tried to not to break decorum over the comms and call Lancaster a fool for traversing further in what was clearly an death trap. He never felt more useless now than ever. He had no line of sight on his squad commander, currently all of his team-members were deciding to venture into the big flaming warehouse and Travers was currently 2 klicks away from his position. He had never felt more ineffectual than before, feeling like a sitting duck.

Jimbo kept silent on the comms, trying to keep his emotions in check as the black-site reigned into chaos. The base was unofficially on high-alert right now even with the alarms and the power supply disabled across the entire black-site. It didn’t take that much intelligence for a soldier to notice that something was wrong, especially with the fact that their largest warehouse was currently on fire. Flames licked at the tarmac and the soft-orange red glow of the conflagration flared up the infrared vision of his tactical goggles.

“ "Stand by and be ready to charge the front gate. We're going to need quick egress out of this base once we're done here!"

Finally. It was reassuring for him that Lancaster at least had some sort of plan other than digging their holes deeper and deeper into enemy territory.He looked back and forth between the rappel rope and through the eye of his scope for what seemed like eternity. The mention of sectoid-alien hybrids on the radio didn’t even break him out of his reverie, only eliciting a slight grunt of disgust from him. Well, it wasn’t surprising that ADVENT had dabbled into human experimentation to add onto their damning list of human rights violations.

Right now, Jimbo wasn’t entirely sure what to do in his position. He was completely useless up on the cliff. Firing wantonly into the enemy patrols that were now filing into the black-site like angry bees would sooner reveal his position than help Falcon-Squad in any way possible. However, higher ground meant higher ground and for good reason. Shit hadn’t hit the fan yet and the soldiers of the black-site were in a state of shock and tumultuous confusion. Staying up here would provide more benefits to Falcon Squad. What to do….What to…

Ah.

That was something worthwhile.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jimbo managed to spot an ADVENT soldier that wore different garb from the usual bunch. Dressed in a flamboyant cape and clearly bulkier armor, the ADVENT soldier was clearly giving orders to the troops around him, pointing towards the warehouse. Was this the Blacksite Commander their intel talked about? Jimbo pressed his shoulder into his rifle stock before radioing in his new discovery to the rest of Falcon Squad.

“ Falcon Squad, I have an visual on hostile 38 degrees north 2 klicks to my position.. Possibly base commander. Permission to eliminate hostile?”
So, that’s it, huh?

We’re some kind of Black Lily?
Well, bloody bollocks, their plan had just been shot to shit. Two weeks of reconnaissance and heavy strategic discussion were flushed down the toilet unceremoniously. Jimbo angled his body to the north-east to get a better shot while signing in dismay. No plan survives first contact after all.

“ Copy that. Target sighted, approaching Blacksite 17 degrees from its position. ”

Jimbo re-adjusted the resolution of his rifle scope and focused in on the truck, its twin headlights irradiating white beams in the shadow of the valley. He could only identify one driver at the moment. He breathed out, steadying the swaying of his scope, before pressing the trigger a single time. A spray of dark red decorated the wind-shield a moment later like an abstract art piece. The truck rolled in its tracks before swerving off the mud-beaten track. It later stopped against the side of a pine-tree, causing several birds resting on the branches to fly away in distress. He trained his scope on the still truck, waiting for any ADVENT soldier to stumble out in confusion. There seemed to be none at the moment.

“ Truck disabled. Travers, secure the target,” He radioed in the confirmation while nodding his chin towards Travers.

Several things happened after that. The familiar burst of comms interference struck at the worst moment, burning his ear-drums with a angry buzzing sensation. There was a bright bloom of luminescent purple where Lancaster and West were currently situated followed by a loud explosion that he could feel, even from his position.

What in the goddamn hell was that? He didn’t even need the scope to see the devastation. Soldiers and other base personnel were currently alit, their glowing bodies stumbling out of the great conflagration. He couldn’t believe that Lancaster wanted to even consider the possibility of going down a place that was currently on fire.

“ Lancaster, get out of there with West right now. The Blacksite is on high alert. You and the rest of the ground team are sitting fish in a barrel if you don’t get out of there right now.”
Jimbo awaited further commands with bated breath as he heard the errant spattering of gun-fire on the open radio. Hopefully, he wouldn't be put in charge of carving the names onto the memorial list today. He gripped the handle of his rifle harder. No one was dying today. He had to remind himself of that. There was a moment of silence on the radio where he was unsure of himself, his scope trailing towards the power facility in suspense. If Washington and Missoti couldn't secure that power facility, they were done for. Lancaster and West would quickly become fish in a barrel, trying to escape out of the facility without disabling the power.

"Hostile Down."

He breathed a sign of relief, chuckling as the stress slowly seeped out of his body, a huge weight of worry released from his back. One objective down, one more to go before extraction. Now, where was Lancaster at the moment? He peered back at the supply warehouse, his lips pressed thinly, before looking back at the supply truck that was slowly encroaching on the Blacksite. At the rate it was going at, it would arrive in about 20 minutes or sooner. Just what the hell was taking the other ground team so long? Jimbo muttered into the radio in a steely tone to emphasise the lack of time that they had.

" Lancaster, West, what's the ETA on securing that warehouse?"

The supply truck was gaining ever so slowly near the blacksite and time wasn't on their side. He made a list of all the possible solutions, humouring them one by one.

Distract the guards inside the house with a missed shot?

Suicidal and it would be a utter waste of ammunition. Attracting suspiscion wasn't one of their mission priorities.

Pop the tires?

Whoever was the commander of the Blacksite would know something fishy was going on if the tire was popped. In all likelihood, the ground team wouldn't have a way to escape the blacksite and be left sitting ducks.

Shit. They were running out of options and there was only one, safe, reliable way they could get in and out of the Blacksite without being spotted visibly. He muttered in the radio one more time, hoping Lancaster would come up with a solution soon.

" Lancaster, that supply truck isn't going to hijack itself. Make a decision ASAP. "
Jimbo simply hated winter. There was no doubting it, both in a personal and practical sense. Snowstorm’s were a sniper’s nightmare and a blizzard was a inexorable labyrinth for a bullet to pass through. It obscured his vision and turned his balls into two giant ice cubes. However, the snow was starting to melt and the Mid-West winter had become charitable to their efforts today. It was clear. There was little to no snowfall in the air.

He couldn’t help but grin when he heard that command over the radio. He cheerfully replied back, his heart pounding relentlessly and excitedly like a drum in his head as he pressed his eye to the scope.

“ Copy that, Lancaster.”

He thumbed the trigger as he adjusted his scope for the best resolution on the encroaching targets, waiting for Lukas to sight out the ADVENT patrols as he began to run through the motions. A silencer was unnecessary given that the sound would dissipate across the wide valley and the muzzle flash wouldn’t be that noticeable from this high a elevation. He didn’t even need Lukas to confirm his targets. He could see them even without his scope, in the distance. Their black-matter bulky armor was horribly unsuited for patrolling through the forest, their forms visible in the evergreen pines. He spoke through the radio, a slight hint of joy betraying his professional demeanour.

“ Two contacts. 300 meters out and bearing south-west 35 degrees from my position. Outside of black-site and 50 meters south of supply base. Proceeding to engage.”

He then stilled his breath, his heartbeat slowing to a near standstill and his mind in a perfect moment of zen. He quieted everything in his brain, the thoughts of coffee, the thoughts of getting vengeance on ADVENT, the smell of wet grass mixed with snow and Lukas’s tobacco-ridden mouth . It was all about the target. Discipline. Silence. Conviction. His breathing became like clock-work, one every five seconds. He zeroed in on them. The two of them were walking side by side, boxy electromagnetic rifles in their hands while they were conversing with each other about something. One of them looked young. Energetic. The other was clearly an older person, a few inches over the other one. Was he berating the other about their lack of military discipline? A lecture? A friendly conversation about the wonders of the ADVENT regime?

Why was he trying to do? He couldn’t give two bloody shits about the lives of ADVENT bogans. His reticle blotted out the target’s head, as he angled his rifle a little to the front but not to much to compensate for their movement. He waited for the moment when they were under the shadowed cloak of the supply base, shrouding their bodies from the spotlight.

“ Taking the shot.”

He fired twice. The 338 Lapua Magnum was a beautiful calibre. Fast and deadly without needing a hernia like the 50 calibre’s that were once popular at HQ. It escaped from the barrel with a fractured splitting crack that travelled and rolled all over the valley without echoing back. The soldier furthest from the fence. Less chance of escaping to cover and less effort needed to re-adjust his target. His first target’s head splintered apart, his body wobbling for a moment like a cracked egg before he hit the ground dead. The ADVENT trooper reached for his radio, shaking his head around as military discipline kicked in and took over his body, looking for the best place to take cover. Unfortunately for him, Jimbo took the opportunity to reload and fire once more. It tore in the space between their mouth and chest, hand trying to staunch the flow of blood as if he was trying to clog a waterfall. Jimbo watched as the ADVENT trooper’s skin turned paper white, hand dropping from his shredded neck as he landed face-first into the ground.

Dead.

Good.

He ejected the hot bullet before radioing in confirmation of their deaths.
“ Tangoes down.”

Take that, you wankers.
Jimbo then took a moment to observe his surroundings through the scope. The alarm wasn’t activated. Good. He then heard a soft rumbling in the distance to his right. He looked up before noticing twin spotlights arriving on the road. It was a supply truck. He pressed two fingers to his helmet, frantically speaking through the radio.

“ Lancaster, be advised. There’s a supply truck heading down towards the Blacksite now. ETA is about 25 minutes. You need to secure those supplies right now.”

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