Recent Statuses

8 mos ago
Current Finally back. Looking to finally settle into a thread or DM one.
1 like
2 yrs ago
I want to make a WWII themed thread but I'm writing so much lore for it that I'll be done in a few years. FeelsBadMan
1 like
2 yrs ago
Fallschirmjäger is such a fun word to say.
2 yrs ago
The most irritating thing is wanting to RP but the moment you start writing you lose interest. Sad days.
2 yrs ago
I am currently working on making a WWII themed RP soon enough. Not sure what kind of scale but likely mixes between military and civilian life in a custom made and still growing world.
1 like


I write WWII related stuff and RP a lot. Dunno when I'm going to make one for here.

Most Recent Posts

Franz had perhaps spent too much time thinking on when to introduce himself yet he couldn’t help but prepare himself mentally as he thought of what he had to in order to survive. Life or death he would push forward. The words of the lieutenant simply let him know that death was knocking at the door. It rapped with fury and screeched the names of so very many. It was true that he had never taken a life but he was a thug who wasn’t unfamiliar to making someone bleed. Still, this was different. Now he was being prepared to leave and in this time he thought of the only thing that could stir his blood more than anything else. He thought of that miserable Gallian who dared infect his mother. He thought of that town of depravity that dared call itself civil. He thought of his blood and of his impurity. He would fight in this war even if it meant fighting that great empire he admired. He had found himself on what he might have considered the wrong side were it not for the people he cared for. What few friends he had lived in the Federation. If not for anyone else, he had to do it for them. The end of the war would mean the beginning of a new dawn and he had every intention of living to see it come.

He fixed his bayonet, the remark about Imperials being bastards immediately burned his insides further, his teeth clenching as memories of being pushed around surged. While possibly unintentional, the lieutenant had sparked blood lust within the body of that young man. He had half a mind to fire at his officer as he finished but instead redirected his energy to the front. He turned for a brief moment to the side to check his surroundings as he vaulted over the ladder and felt his heart sink for an instance. Blood. The spray and gore of rapid fire tearing and ending the lives who had just moved to do his job. His eyes dilated as something ungodly opened inside of him. It was a moment when he truly realized where he was. This wasn’t going to be as bad as he thought war was beyond the propaganda. There was absolutely no hesitation to end them. Those poor souls were extinguished as soon as they were seen like a response team to a fire just beginning. There wasn’t even so much as an attempt to preserve their lives from his view. In that state of blood lust all he could register was that they had just killed people who would never see their homes again. As much as he adored that empire it sunk in deep that they were the enemy. They would not hesitate to do the same to him.

“If you see those fucks come at you just hit the god damn dirt with everything you’ve got. You bolt your ass to safety and take them out. You gotta look out for yourself, Franz. Nobody else will because the moment all hell breaks loose all people are going to do is look out for themselves. So fuck em, if being alive means you gotta do the same then all for it. Just come back alive.”

Franz clutched his rifle, roaring with seething rage as he turned to face the enemy and pressed forward harder than he had ever done in boot camp. He felt invincible, like nothing could hurt him from his immense emotion. The deaths of those around him only fueled that fire to avoid what he could and take down what he could see. Something triggered yet inside of him. He checked behind him as he broke rank to race ahead, seeing his squad leader lagging behind. As much as he believed he could break through with caution he was still rather aware of what would happen if Jean died. At this rate he was a sitting duck and a man had died trying to push him along. In the end Jean was more important than he. Jean could lead people, Franz had no officer training and as such was incapable of using tactics to their advantage. He noticed something that only drove him to this task further. Darscen. He was just like him. He had realized it earlier but deep within now that everything was breaking apart did it strike him as a duty beyond belief to keep one of his kind alive. Were it not for other Darscen such as Markus he would have given up. He would be damned if he let one of the precious few be allowed to join the fallen.


Dashing to the lance corporal he took in heavy breaths, feeling a bullet graze his arm as he stopped in his tracks to grab the man and practically screamed in his ear as he tugged him along. “Corporal! Get your ass moving! You want the rest of your squad to drop like him? Then let’s go! We need you and we need you right fucking now!” Franz hoped that would be enough to get this man pushing forward, keeping to his side and watching the gun fire. In his head he screamed the same thing, his mind a one track mind as he maneuvered to the objective. “It will not be me! It will not be my squad!”

The world had turned into a cesspit of death and destruction with the perversion of man twisting the fabric of reality itself. Teeth grit together as he thought of the mess he lived in. The murder, theft, abuse of the common man, exploitation of all things without a government badge. Here they were all equally monsters capable of tearing through those too weak to take life. There was no longer complex personalities and the understanding that things could be negotiated. Now there was simply predator and prey.

All the while that he tried to get his lead to press on he checked the rest of the squad briefly, roaring encouragement in his fueled state. “Our leader will see us through! Don't forget what you fight for!” He felt his blood slamming into his brain, adrenaline rush pulsing through his body as they dragged through the mud and rain. He was a stark contrast to the quiet man from earlier. Where before he had simply listened to the storm now he sought to fly straight into it. Beneath all of that desire for death he hoped that this battle would be swift. He clenched his teeth, squinting slightly as the light wound began to feel its way around his arm. The damage, at least, kept his fear of death suppressed underneath layers of anger and adrenaline.

He watched Daniel race past them slowing down briefly to shout before watching a bullet hit the ground right in front of him. In an odd way that man just prevented him from taking another hit but it wouldn’t deter him. He simply pressed on, yelling once in an attempt to draw him back. “Your squad!” He didn’t have time to worry about some red head charging straight into death when the rest of the squad was still in plenty danger and in a way he had no right to even begin to criticize him because he was just about to do the same. In truth they needed to get to get out of the hell storm as soon as possible but what then? If they arrived scattered then would they still be organized? Or would they pause to regroup and get mowed down by a shocktrooper waiting in ambush? Ideally they would stay spread enough to avoid making the squad a pile of gore. All he knew was that the moment they hit they had to do it at least partly coordinated. They beat it into them enough that the squad moves as a unit. For now he would leave it be.


Ears began to feel irritation at all the noise, but it would be alright. Of the group it seemed that Michael had drifted further back and for a brief moment he screamed out his rank, waving him closer as he returned to trying to keep Jean and himself alive. He didn’t know how he was going to make it or even his squad for that matter but he didn’t waste time worrying. He just kept moving, the only thing that kept him alive before. He had to keep moving, waiting for Jean to tell him what to do as he prepared himself for the tidal wave.


Franz moved at the order, tucking his helmet down to proper position before quickly marching to the front. There was no hesitation. There was only knowing that this may be the last day he ever breathes air. His heart pounded, giving himself a bit of surprise in anticipation of the main event. He kept in formation but immediately took cover in the trench once it was available. The silence was unnerving, this darkness was surely to be awoken by the light of explosives and gun fire. He did a weapon check, a brief maintenance before wiping off the water that had collected upon the rifle and peeked over the safety of the trench briefly to check for any movement before ducking back down and checking for his bayonet. Thoughts raced as he shuffled in his space and felt his emotions bubbling. Thoughts of the past.

"War? Is that what you want?"

"I'm going back. That's it."

"So what? You want me to wait here while you go out there and get killed? Use your head, Franz. They're going to the grinder and you want to be the next on the chopping block? Get the hell out of the army before that happens!"

"What else am I supposed to do? Sit around waiting to find someone that will never show up? I've tried and tried but nobody has seen her. I need to do something other than get spit on in the streets."

"And the best thing you could do is go die for the fucking Feds? The same ones that told us we'd be better in a ditch?"

"It pays. The army is nothing if not consistent with payment regardless of hair color."

"Yeah, job security isn't going to matter when you're meters in the ground. I can't believe we're even having this conversation. You want me to keep looking for this bit-"

A solid strike to the cheek. It caused the first silence of that mid day conversation and it did so with the other man holding his jaw for the moment before throwing Franz over the table and diving after. It was a struggle, both men grunting and groaning as fist and words hit with such ferocity that furniture nearly gave way under the pressure of their battle. Ten minutes. Ten minutes of struggling with Franz finally being thrown against the rotten wood stairs and grabbed by his collar.

They stared at each other, heaving and sweating with the sound of rain tapping the glass. The power went out. Lights turned dim.

It wasn't long after that they sat quietly by the campfire burning damaged magazines and newspapers, sharing a moment with warm coffee and a blanket to cover them. They held neutral expressions with battered skin.

"You know, sarge is going to kill me once he sees my uniform."

"Just see Veronica before you leave. She's laundered equipment before I'm sure she'll know how to fix it up or at least give you a new one."

"How did you meet her anyway?"

"Veronica? We were just sitting at the pool enjoying the day and I just decided to talk to her. I looked at her she looked at me and it just kind of happened. Just a couple of Darscens trying to get by. Course, she dyed her hair light blue. I always hated that shit. Sure a coat of new paint means you get treated better, but it's disgusting that we need to change who and what we are to even be accepted. To hell with that. I'm staying Darscen even if it kills me."

"You're a thug on the street, I'm pretty sure it will kill you at some point."

"Not as fast as some pretentious fuck of a lieutenant telling me to throw my body at a line of rifles. You hear about that fucking poster boy? What a god damn joke. He wouldn't last a week in the slums."

It got a laugh out of Franz, smiling as he responded to Markus "True. Still, it pays."

"With all that money you get I think about investing into a new apartment but then I remember that staying in isolation like this is the best way to be. Sure it's not what I'd call paradise but a couple Darscen sympathizers isn't going to change the fact that the world is filled with its biased selections. At least here we're a den of our own kind. That's better than any luxury suite."

"That's kind of a lie isn't it? I know you'd rather have that sweet chicken pulled buffet."

"Oh fuck yeah I would, but that's besides the point. Good food only carries you so far. I'm an idealist, just like you. I'm gonna die in a few decades so I might as well go out doing what I love and being who I am. Maybe I'll build up a family in the meantime."


"Relax, professor. She's just a squeeze. I'd like to think I have higher standards."

"I don't think she'd appreciate hearing that."

"We don't exactly have the best chemistry but it's better than being a punk ass virgin like you. She feels the same in that way."

"Always did have a way with words."

"Glad you agree. Still, I think it's time you gave up on that Amber shit. She's gone, man. You need to find someone else."

Silence. The fire burned, ripping away at the remnants of the trash as Franz stood and grabbed his letters, looking at them and then the fire before putting them back. He took the old phone book instead, chucking the behemoth into the pit before taking his part of the covers again.

"You're hopeless, Franz... Still, you're lucky you're my best friend... I'll keep looking for her. Just don't fucking die... alright?"

He was in something of a trance for a moment, gripping at his shoulder as though the blankets were there until he left his memories, his ear still placed against the structure as he listened and waited. He thanked Veronica quietly. Even if it wasn't right to work with an insider like that he didn't mind it personally. She'd never gotten caught as far as he knew and it saved him a week in the hole. This uniform felt better too, the lines weren't as irritating and it had something of a soft comfy stretch to it. It was better than the stiff and hastily made uniform they gave him at first. He took a moment to appreciate it, knowing that she picked it out just for him.

He would still need to talk with his squad eventually, but for now he settled for just staying still and listening for a shift. Waiting for the order as he remembered Markus' words.

He thought about the letter in silence. He thought about her face and he thought about the past he left behind. He thought of the training he endured and he thought of the officer who spoke aloud with words that penetrated little. Still, he got the basics. Call the man lieutenant, be back in two hours for the lethal theatrics, gamble your life away. Easy enough.

At the very least the temperature was colder than he expected. Even as a child he loved the feel of winter and rain. Maybe it was just his blood, but nothing was better than laying down on a cold rainy day. Well, assuming he wasn’t told to work the house anyway.

After the crowd dispersed Franz marched his way to the side, not particularly focused on making friends at the moment as he thought of what to make today. A flower? Maybe a dog? Amber? A mental sigh seemed appropriate. He didn’t want to snub the platoon but his spirits were low and as it was it was gradually being improved by the rain. He watched the rain pour, taking in every small splash and every bit of mud spread by boots marching by. Boots marched by without any regard of what they were stepping on. Sure, it was just rain in the mud, but the boundaries of that comparison to life being thrown away with people moving on made him wonder just how many lives would be forgotten. The propaganda was already in. The loser would surely be ill remembered if at all, but that was the nature of end war conditions. Even such a thought like that made him think of his dark hair and feel that something about that Darscen story was wrong.

He took his mind off such things for now, simply smiling at the other soldiers as he watched them in silence, wondering just how he could help make their lives a bit better during the- show as the lieutenant put it.
If it gets approved then I'll come back and reformat everything at a later date. I've been craving some VC rp ever since I've gotten back into the VC series (having played 1 and still playing 4) so maybe this will fill that craving. Good luck regardless.

I kept things "brief" to get down the gist of the character So I hope it works just fine.

I have decided to shut down the thread.

While I place the blame on myself I did not find that the activity was enough to really keep my own interest as I continued to work on all things. As it is, despite dming before I feel like I've failed in that regard and I apologize to the crew, but mostly radio silence in the discord isn't quite what I was hoping for. I hope you all find an RP that you like as I move to close this RP down. Maybe I'll try this again in the future when it is all fleshed out, but for now I will leave it as an unfinished and canceled project.
Im dropping out since there doesnt seem to be any progress made.

Fact is, there wasn't a lot of communication in the discord to begin with. There was little to no discussion and no questions being asked about anything while I worked on the thread. When I did post up a bit of info and even provided a channel for submitting characters there was essentially radio silence. Because of this, I just went ahead and planned to just info dump when it was all ready.

I respect your decision and I take the fault for not updating with every bit of progress made and for probably mismanaging the time I spent on extras in the world building process and trying to set up the thread with information that isn't necessarily relevant to the rper. All in all, if you choose to go then I wish you luck in finding a thread that will provide you better than I have.
Looks really interesting if you are still accepting.

We still have room, so yes, if you're interested then I'll welcome you in.
Iqua Qoten and The 107th

The 107th was the first Iron Guard division to be created, the personal project of the general who introduced the concept and first experimented with on the 73rd Infantry Division "Mogley" when an adequate reinforcement was unavailable. To compensate for the losses and to hold the city of Balkurk, the major general changed the design of the division and modified its interworkings to better constitute a defensive. His modifications were temporal, but the use of heavy tanks, additional artillery, and more support personnel allowed for better coordination as well as reinforcing the idea that all riflemen should be trained to properly dig trenches at increased rates to resist large infantry pushes with more efficiency. Anti-tank, artillery, and armored elements served as repellents for light tanks and deterred even medium and heavy armor when the conditions were ideal.

The 107th itself took on a brand new design, experimental and last minute. The Major General's confidence in these new division designs were expressed to be primarily for defense, the tanks primarily being distrubuted to the hardest to fight areas where casualties are expected to be the highest. Firepower, as IQ believes, is the essential factor in halting an advance. So long as heavy support is in place, a larger force cannot advance without sustaining heavy casualties in retaliation.

In addition to the division design, the Major General also introduced fire walling, or often referred to by the men as "fire pits", in excess to the point that it has become a staple of Iron Guard defense. The use of "fire pits", trenches that have been filled with gasoline, by which the defending force creates a long range set of ignition lines to discourage the attacking force from using previous trenches against them. In the event that the lines fail to ignite the trenches, incendiary artillery shells are fired to grant a long line of fire which burns the infantry inside, deters attackers from advancing, and allows the artillery teams to take advantage of the hesitation to hit waves of infantry in rapid succession. However, if the infantry manage to work their way past it, it is the duty of the infantry to repel the attackers and of the tanks and anti-tank units to beat back armored advances.

Iqua's successes with the 107th have been remarked as sufficient and with every successful defense comes the promise of improvements to the division. It has had several advances which have worked in the division's favor and it even managed to capture the Tovian city of Toyette which resulted in the rescue of the remains of the Tovian 3rd Armored Division "Alkar". In total, 48 tanks, 1,248 infantry, 2,433 civilians, and a single cow were salvaged from the battlefield along with equipment recovered by the defensive force. However, when the city was besieged again, massive losses were taken as air supremacy was achieved by opposing forces. The results were devastating. Bombing runs, counter artillery, rapid motorized invasions, and heavy tank support drove the 107th out of Toyette, killing 1,800, wounding 3,300, and driving morale low in what was considered to be their most disastrous defense that they were not prepared to deal with.

Iqua openly blamed the airforce for their lack of support in defense of the city, but as the officers of the airforce would often respond with, "numbers are stretched thin." and supporting the exiled governments in attempting to reclaim land and assets has driven the majority of the airwings to the northern and southern front. Despite the lack of air support, Iqua has worked closely with Field Marshall Edwin Qoten to develop new projects for use in the eastern front including new fighter, anti-aircraft tank, anti-air and anti-armor equipment designs as well as several improvements to the general equipment of all personnel.

The division has received praise as well as dissonance within the military, but its slow and steady method has set the standard for defending the eastern front. The major general was also allowed a Tovian support regiment which consisted of 1,000 of the 1,200 men reclaimed from Toyette and an additional 2 tanks to round out the 48 to 50. The remaining 200 men were assigned to communications as the regiment served primarily as a supportive fire power unit rather than a fully fledged division.
The Iron Guard

The Iron Guard play a crucial role in the Qual military; "Hold The Line." As of January 20th, 583 L.E., there have been a record of 30 Iron Guard Divisions that make up a little over half a million in manpower. Quickly trained, mixed in with veterans, and fresh to the grinder, these men and women serve as the wall between the enemy and the cities they defend. Propaganda, while not completely effective, has been used to pull in volunteers, inspire draftees, give hope to the veteran, and regulate a steady chain of command with morale steadily rising. Cherry picked footage, daily speeches, and victory reports have helped remedy the situation to some degree.

The typical Iron Guard division consists of:

1 Recon Battalion (750)
1 Artillery Regiment (4,500/IR)
3 Infantry Regiments (3,000/IR)
1 Support Tank Battalion (750 [150 5 man heavy tanks])
1 Support Regiment (Medical, Engineers, Signals, etc) (3,000)

While an experimental division composition, the supportive power of combined elements, in theory, provides a sufficent amount of supportive fire power and engaging infantry to progress with armored support without stretching the nation thin on tank supply while it continues to ramp up its production into full gear despite set backs in many areas. While it does not have motorized or mechanized capabilities, the thought to add motorized capability has been issued and is planned to be delivered first to the divisions who prove most useful.

The use of Iron Guard is primarily defense, although the offensive is heavily encouraged if it is believed the battle can be won without sustaining heavy losses.
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