Byrd Man

Sons of Anarchy: A New Chapter

I always like biker stuff, so put me down as interested.

Maximum Comics: Dawn of Justice | REBRANDING - PLEASE STAY TUNED

Me when I see anyone has posted in the IC thread, thus allowing me to post again.

The Pickett County War: A Rural Noir RP

The rickety wooden door shook two or three times before it finally came off its rotting hinges and collapsed to the floor in chunks. Clint Land came through the door, a shotgun in his hands. Just behind him was Echols, his service pistol out and ready for what they found. Both men wore kevlar vests PCSD stamped on the front and back.

"It's Spencer," Land said as other deputies came into the house with them. "Down on the ground, sir."

Roland Spencer complied, sprawling out on the floor and saying something Echols couldn't hear. Off to the side, a dead body lay. Blood ran from a head wound and stained the floor. The color and movement of the blood told Echols it was fresh, just a few minutes old. He held his hand up for quiet from the rest of the group. In the sudden silence he heard Spencer talking.

"Went out the window, maybe you can catch him. Fucking Chew and Dante, didn't mean to do anything other than provide for that boy."

"Get the dogs, Clint," Echols said as he turned to leave the house. "We got more hunting to do."

Create-A-Hero: A Superhero RPG (Closed)

Uncharted Island
South Pacific
0553 Local Time

Perched on a rocky outcrop near a lush jungle, Theodore Roosevelt observed the surrounding area through the scope of his rifle. The .585 caliber bolt action rifle could rip a baseball sized hole through an elephant's body, among other creatures and surfaces. The magazine carried traditional, big bore ammunition that Theodore supplemented with magazines of incendiary rounds that he kept on his person. A stand at the end of the barrel provided support for the heavy weapon, a large cushioned stock protected Theodore's shoulder from the gun's large recoil.

The scope's night vision mode cast the surrounding area in a ghostly green aura. There was a thermal vision setting, but the warm climate of the island made it difficult for bodies to be detected through the lense. Roosevelt turned his rifle north-northwest towards the island's highest peak. A small volcano loomed above everything on the island. Situated near the summit was a sprawling compound had Asian architecture with hanging paper lanterns illuminating the perimeter. To Roosevelt, it appeared as a mini replica of the Forbidden City imperial palace. Zooming in, he saw two sentries standing near a door and smoking cigarettes. They were Asian, wearing khaki uniforms with automatic rifles slung around their shoulders.

"Mr. Lincoln," Roosevelt whispered. An embedded microphone in his back left molar caught the his voice perfectly and broadcasted it across the island to where Lincoln was. "There are minimum guard patrols, but I have a clear line of sight, sir. I shall be watching. You are clear to move."

--

Theodore Roosevelt's voice came in crystal clear in the microscopic speaker embedded inside one of Lincoln's ear bones.

"Roger that. I am on the move."

Lincoln wore his usual suit and vest, sans jacket and top hat, as he marched through the thick jungle. He carried an axe in his hands and used it to cut a path through the dense island vegetation. Stopping only to roll his sleeves up to the elbows, Lincoln continued in the direction Roosevelt guided him. The axe was not the only weapon on his person. Holstered on his right hip was a Colt revolver with a pouch on the other side containing a variety of hand grenades. Another pouch attached to his rear contained six small throwing axes he could use in a pinch.

"Slower, Mr. Lincoln," said Roosevelt. "I can see your movements through the jungle. The last thing we want is to-- What the devil? Someone's close by me, Lincoln."

A large boom echoed across the island. Lincoln heard Roosevelt swearing, followed by the sound of the bolt-action and another gunshot.

"They're on to us, sir! Make haste!"

Lincoln heard voices nearby. Holding the big axe in his left hand, he pulled a throwing axe from his right hand and slung it through the jungle. A cry went out, followed by more voices. Lincoln rushed forward through the tangles, stepping over a dead man with a throwing axe in his chest, and came out into a clearing two hundred yards away from the mountain compound. Spotlights popped on and blinded him. The bright lights began to pop off, followed by echoes of gunshots. Taking his cue from Roosevelt, Lincoln rushed forward just as dozens of armed guards came out the compound's doors, guns trained on the sixteenth president.

"I would surrender if I were you, Abraham," a voice called from a door.

The voice's owner stepped out the door as Lincoln dropped his axe and held his hands up. He prayed Roosevelt still had control of his rifle and a clear view of the man marching towards him.

"I have been informed Mr. Roosevelt was captured just after destroying MacArthur's lights."

Lincoln closed his eyes and sighed. He forgot about how he talked of himself in the third person.

"I admit, Mr. President, I had a little help ascertaining your arrival. That will be explained soon, but for now let's go inside and talk matters over. MacArthur wouldn't be a good host unless if he did not offer you a welcome. So, Mr. President--"



"Welcome to MacArthur's Island."

Maximum Comics: Dawn of Justice | REBRANDING - PLEASE STAY TUNED

@Lord Wraith 30 Seconds to Mars? You're lucky this site doesn't have a dislike button because I'd be making use of it right now.

@Morden Man

But their lead singer is such a beautiful woman.

Maximum Comics: Dawn of Justice | REBRANDING - PLEASE STAY TUNED

All these OOC posts are making me nostalgic.

It's almost like last week all over again.

@Morden Man

When we were kings.

Maximum Comics: Dawn of Justice | REBRANDING - PLEASE STAY TUNED

Canadian Thanksgiving is in October.

Maximum Comics: Dawn of Justice | REBRANDING - PLEASE STAY TUNED

<Snipped quote by Byrd Man>

It's cool. You can be Ross. Nobody's favourite but still technically there. So you have that going for you.

@Morden Man

I'll take Ross for his master of Unagi alone.

Maximum Comics: Dawn of Justice | REBRANDING - PLEASE STAY TUNED

Did you the two of you just become best friends?

Maximum Comics: Dawn of Justice | REBRANDING - PLEASE STAY TUNED

Prague
Czech Republic
17:22 Local Time

Phil Coulson stepped into his motel room and locked the door behind him. The room looked like every other cheap room, regardless of the time or place. There were cookie cutter watercolors on the walls showing boats and generic landscapes. The wallpaper, once a bright orange, was faded and chipped with yellowing tobacco stains on its surface. A single bed with bleached cotton sheets lay pressed up against one of the walls, a plain nightstand beside it with a telephone sitting on top.

Coulson unslung his bag and laid it on the floor before walking to the phone and pulling out a pen knife. He popped off the earpiece, revealing wires and a speaker underneath. Reaching into his jacket pocket, Coulson pulled out a small metal disc and connected it to the phone's wiring. He placed the earpiece back when he was finished and dialed the number he needed. An automated greeting picked up a few rings later and gave him options 1-4 to press to reach a line. Instead, Coulson punched nine and listened to the ringing until--

"United States Cultural Attache's office," a pleasant female voice said.

"Yes, ma'am. My name is Greg Clarkson and I'm here working for the Washington-Times Herald on a story about Prague's tourist sites. I'd like to arrange an interview with the attache sometime this week."

Coulson heard the sound of shuffling papers and a pause as the receptionist looked through her codebook. His use of a defunct paper's name was the key identifier. It was shorthand the world over that an agent in the field wished to request a meeting with the SHIELD staff at the embassy."

"Mr... Clarkson was it?" She asked after a pause. "I'm looking through the attache's calendar, will the 31st work?"

"Perfect. That'll be at your embassy?"

"Yes, sir. 10 on the dot and no later"

"Got it. Thank you."

He rang off and went into his bag. Coulson pulled out a map book of Prague. Tradecraft dictated that the meeting place would be held at whatever location was located on the thirteenth page of the book, the inverse of the thirty-one the receptionist threw out. St. Vitus Cathedral sat on page thirty-one. He checked his watch and saw he had a little under five hours to throw off any tails he may have and get to the rendezvous. If he was even a minute late the meeting would be cancelled. Leaving his bag behind, Coulson tightened his jacket and left the motel room behind.

--

Washington D.C.
11:35 Local Time

"There is no doubt your record is impressive, Mr. Smiley," said Senator James Albright of Idaho. "You don't get to the top of British intelligence without being good. But large chunks of the file MI6 gave us are blacked out. All we know is that you worked there for twenty plus years, became their head, and retired."

"Can you shed some light on your tenure with MI6?" Senator Ellen Davidson of California asked.

"I am hesitant to do so, Senator," replied Smiley. "As a British national, I may violate several laws by speaking in-depth about my tenure with the Circus. I doubt I can do SHIELD very much good from a London jail cell."

A polite laughter broke out among the senators. Smiley chuckled along with them.

"Why is it called the Circus?" Senator Dan Wilkins of Texas asked after the laughter subsided.

"Because it used to be located at Cambridge Circus in London before that large monstrosity on the Thames was built. Hard to be a secret service when that thing serves as your headquarters."

"I don't know if you've seen the Triskelion yet, Mr. Smiley, but it's not much better," Senator Davidson said with a grin. "And don't get us started on the flying aircraft carriers."

More laughter from the senators, all of them except one. Senator William Brown of South Carolina, the committee's chairman, stared at Smiley over his reading glasses.

"There is one thing I think you may be able to answer for me, Mr. Smiley," Senator Brown said in his thick drawl. "And if you can it will go a long way to putting my faith and trust into your appointment. I was part of the House of Representatives' version of this committee in the mid-80's. At that time, our intelligence agencies here heard rumbles from across the pond. The Circus was supposedly in turmoil after a Soviet spy was discovered in its midst. The entire agency had to be rebuilt from the top up, is what our spies here were hearing. Looking at your history, you came back from retirement and took over as 'M' shortly after the inside man was supposedly caught and retired shortly after the Soviet Union collapsed. My question is this: Did you have a hand in catching the mole? Is that why you came back from retirement and ran the agency through the end of the Cold War? You can simply answer yes or no. And I will remind you, as well as my colleagues, that these meetings are secret and will not appear in any record other than sealed SHIELD records. Mr. Smiley?"

Smiley sat stone-faced, perfectly still with his hands resting on the table in front of him. This was the moment, he knew it. Years of conversations, interrogations, and debriefs with three or four layers of meaning had honed his instincts. Senator Brown at least wanted Smiley's confirmation to pass, and he knew this was the way. Hampered by legal constraints, this was how Smiley could prove to the other senators that he was more than qualified to be Fury's cupbearer. But the question brought to mind so many bad memories. Little Percy Alleline with his hangdog look after he was sacked, Ann's tears when Smiley delivered the news, Bill Haydon's nasty turn before it was all said and done, even Jim Prideaux's cold eyes sizing him up over a rickety card table, Smiley adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat.

"Yes," he said softly. "To both. I found the mole inside the Circus and vigorously engaged in counter-action that resulted in the defection of a high-ranking KGB officer known as Karla to the West. Are you familiar with the name, Senator Brown?"

"I am," Brown said with glittering eyes. "I seem to recall the intelligence he gave us destroyed several Soviet plots across Western Europe and Latin America."

"Indeed," was all Smiley said.

"We'll take a thirty-minute recess and convene again," Brown said with the rap of his gavel.