FourtyTwo Member
STATUS: 10+ years of an RP idea, finally finished, on 10.10.2025. Goodnight Raven Squad, you were the best, wildest, most silly near future SOF RP that lived on the guild, and you got a worthy send off :) 10 mos ago
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- Old Guild Username: kingkonrad
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10+ years of an RP idea, finally finished, on 10.10.2025. Goodnight Raven Squad, you were the best, wildest, most silly near future SOF RP that lived on the guild, and you got a worthy send off :)
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Bio
I've RP'd for the best part of over 15 years now here on the Guild, and particularly like military settings, both contemporary, past and near future. I have even dabbled in a little more experimental RPs, as well as created a plethora of 1x1s over my time in the guild. I like creating RPs with a distinct flavour- and often shift between narrative-led RPs to semi-randomised plots. I've been more a GM lately than a player, and don't really lean into fandom- instead, exploring my own universes lifting themes from other source material.
My main interests are military-themed, near-future RPs, with a focus on technology. But I'm beginning to push what that RP idea looks like- taking inspiration from lots of media and focussing on the fun, indulgent side of RP, whilst also exploring the lows and emotional side.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/190121-rav…
Raven Squad is a project over seven years in the making, and focusses on a class-based, eccentric yet half-grounded near future special forces team that acts as a response team where you can't send any special forces team in. It's incredibly dumb, incredibly loose, and yet, has delivered some of my favourite plot points in RPG. A brainless action flick a la John Wick and Kingsman meets a complex thriller with a fun left turn in it, Raven has been the culmination of over a decade of loving special forces RPG, gaming influences and other silliness in a package that has provided players with something quite different to a normal military themed RPG. While at an end, this is an RP that is a signature- it's silly as hell, takes itself barely seriously, and is what peak fun military RPG to me should be.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/192916-del…
Delta Hyper is a love letter to Wipeout, F1's Drive to Survive (Netflix) and contemporary Formula One, with influences from solarpunk, cyberpunk, transhumanism and other posthumanist concepts. An RP that follows pilots in their ups and downs, it's a story that hasn't got me playing an actual character, but framing the camera at each pilot (played by others), and presenting it as if it were a documentary. Lifting elements from TTRPG, this is a Racing RPG like no other and no parallel exists- using dice rolls and randomisation, with a stats-driven system to generate race results, rather than actually RPing the races, players experience the fast-paced, dynamic world of anti-gravity racing. This means that come Qualifying and Race, the results are genuinely a surprise to everyone- and based on decisions made through dilemmas and decisions made between races. Friendships, rivalry, the glamour and even a little political undertone play out in 2094, in a colourful, utopian future that focuses on the fight to take first place.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/196931-tac…
Then there's Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex. First use of any set IP as a formal setting, this is an RP that offers a darker mirror to Raven Squad, focussing on the other side of the equation- unlikely heroes in an uncomfortable position. I don't normally do fantasy, but the world, the lore, the feeling of the characters and the ability to write a comedy just was too difficult to pass up. An RP that focuses on a group running away from a variety of threats as wanted mercenary wizards in the middle of a post-revolution, Eastern-Europe adjacent 1990s to present Polavia.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/197399-dis…
Lastly, Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont. This is another IP-adjacent world, albeit drawing on a different setting and a new cast of superheroes. As my "first" proper superhero RP, this combines workplace comedy, a Storyteller-lite system and a fun, diverse, and large cast together in a dynamic, diverse setting.
I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy. I aim to clear posts within a week!
My main interests are military-themed, near-future RPs, with a focus on technology. But I'm beginning to push what that RP idea looks like- taking inspiration from lots of media and focussing on the fun, indulgent side of RP, whilst also exploring the lows and emotional side.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/190121-rav…
Raven Squad is a project over seven years in the making, and focusses on a class-based, eccentric yet half-grounded near future special forces team that acts as a response team where you can't send any special forces team in. It's incredibly dumb, incredibly loose, and yet, has delivered some of my favourite plot points in RPG. A brainless action flick a la John Wick and Kingsman meets a complex thriller with a fun left turn in it, Raven has been the culmination of over a decade of loving special forces RPG, gaming influences and other silliness in a package that has provided players with something quite different to a normal military themed RPG. While at an end, this is an RP that is a signature- it's silly as hell, takes itself barely seriously, and is what peak fun military RPG to me should be.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/192916-del…
Delta Hyper is a love letter to Wipeout, F1's Drive to Survive (Netflix) and contemporary Formula One, with influences from solarpunk, cyberpunk, transhumanism and other posthumanist concepts. An RP that follows pilots in their ups and downs, it's a story that hasn't got me playing an actual character, but framing the camera at each pilot (played by others), and presenting it as if it were a documentary. Lifting elements from TTRPG, this is a Racing RPG like no other and no parallel exists- using dice rolls and randomisation, with a stats-driven system to generate race results, rather than actually RPing the races, players experience the fast-paced, dynamic world of anti-gravity racing. This means that come Qualifying and Race, the results are genuinely a surprise to everyone- and based on decisions made through dilemmas and decisions made between races. Friendships, rivalry, the glamour and even a little political undertone play out in 2094, in a colourful, utopian future that focuses on the fight to take first place.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/196931-tac…
Then there's Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex. First use of any set IP as a formal setting, this is an RP that offers a darker mirror to Raven Squad, focussing on the other side of the equation- unlikely heroes in an uncomfortable position. I don't normally do fantasy, but the world, the lore, the feeling of the characters and the ability to write a comedy just was too difficult to pass up. An RP that focuses on a group running away from a variety of threats as wanted mercenary wizards in the middle of a post-revolution, Eastern-Europe adjacent 1990s to present Polavia.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/197399-dis…
Lastly, Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont. This is another IP-adjacent world, albeit drawing on a different setting and a new cast of superheroes. As my "first" proper superhero RP, this combines workplace comedy, a Storyteller-lite system and a fun, diverse, and large cast together in a dynamic, diverse setting.
I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy. I aim to clear posts within a week!
Most Recent Posts
I'm rather busy- will post over the weekend, it's alive dammit but you know.
Svetlana was thrown aback, as she felt the knock into her helmet, it wasn't a normal punch. It felt like someone sent a hammer into the side, like it was fury. Spectre's fist must have been bleeding, or in agony, because the punch did throw Svetlana out of co-ordination, long enough for the baton to be taken, and for Spectre to take it. The only exposed part of her suit was her head, but the current was so strong, that even through the chest, it sent ripples, Natalie buzzed but realizing it acted almost like a Faraday suit, most of the current back to him and away from her body, the very thick armor doing a fine job indeed. Spectre came down, almost blitzing himself- in the spur of the moment, it had perhaps not been the greatest thing to do, but he had been couragous, he thought to himself. Walking over, she smirked, faceplate still up, as she looked down. She stood on the rifle's barrel, bending the flash hider and end to a point where it couldn't shoot, 7"5 of Russian armored amazon over Spectre.
"Naughty." She simply said, as she dropped, slowly and surely onto him, putting her almost whole weight of her suit's rear onto his chest, his crawl and his ferocity hopeless. He passed out soon after from the air being thrown out of his lungs, as she got up, kicking him over to keep him out of conciousness, before then approaching Iceman and finishing the deal, with a brutal kidney punch, followed by a taze.
The training was over, as she walked towards the door she came in through, both bodies over her shoulder. War Trophies.
"Interesting. Spectre does have a good streak. He caused me problems. He will be good indeed." Svetlana said, as Imran laughed.
"Well done. Get them back to their quarters, I'll have the physio check them out. Hopefully you didn't break half his ribs." Imran replied, as he looked to Howard, nodding.
"Let them on I say. They've done well. I mean, they're not like you Antoine, a ghost. Or you, Howard. A different kind of phantom indeed. But we need individuals like Spectre. Not to say Iceman did not stop. With the right kit, he will stand up. He has an awful lot of withstanding for this, a ability to go beyond it seems. And that material works well." He added, looking to both in the command centre, as he stood up, the salt water draining, as he looked over.
"You've got options. You can train with the VR stuff in there- the wingsuits are programmed up for your tastes, and the virtual sniper range is up. Since we can't fit targets 2.5km away inside this place, it's the closest we can do without having to go to a training center and making everything work out without pissing off the flyboys. Otherwise, feel free to chill out- I might need to sort some paperwork and logistics, I have a potential lead on Artemis that I'd like to look into a little more. Figure out what our next offensive move is." He said, looking to both of them, the now decloaked Antoine sitting in a seat, her balaclava off and her NVGs up, sitting back. Imran headed out, as somewhere on the other side, Svetlana had dumped the two temporarily lifeless bodies on a couple of beds in the Physio's ward, to get treated. They'd wake up, feeling shit, the adrenaline wearing off, and she'd make sure to make an effort to visit. She went back to the armory and got out of her suit, putting her black bra on and a pair of large cargo trousers, above her underwear- her bra making no mistake to reveal the sweat that poured down in an area that if you looked at for too long, you wouldn't live for very long following that.
Walking out, she headed to the Physio's ward, taking a seat by the beds that they were on, as the Doctor looked over them, and then Svetlana. Imran followed in, again, almost not half surprised now in the state that Svetlana had chosen. This was just how she was. She didn't care. Because she knew she was a King Tigress, the head, the woman that wasn't just big boobed, but big muscled and boned. And made sure that she wasn't ridiculed for the former by proving with the latter what she did.
"Two cracked ribs, he's breathing, shock though. He'll be good in about two hours." The doctor said to Svetlana, in relation to Spectre, as Imran looked at Iceman. He looked a little worse, not physically, but just wrecked.
"And Iceman?" Imran asked, as the Doctor shook his head. He had a distinctly Austrian accent, and all that Imran could think of, was the Medic from TF2, in some strange non-relating way. He didn't even look like him, he was about in his late 20s, and a distinctly experienced medic from the Austrian Army, with his specialty in wounds, as well as other problems usually relating to getting nearly blown up being his problem to solve.
"Well....whatever it is you hit him with, he looks like he's...defecated. Not the cattle prod, that one that we agreed is more of a torture device?" The Doctor said, as Svetlana shrugged her shoulders.
"Eh." She simply said, as Imran looked to her, almost in a semi-approving look, not commending or slating that decision. She had her ways, and that was how she did it.
"Wait, did you say he shit himself?" She added, realizing exactly what the Doctor had said.
"Yes." He simply replied, as Svetlana bent over, laughing alone, almost bellowing loudly, as Imran joined in, her laughter partially infectious, though it was still the loudest of the lot. If Iceman was just waking up, he had no idea what the hell was going on, and that to the woes of his partner too, he'd find out.
"Naughty." She simply said, as she dropped, slowly and surely onto him, putting her almost whole weight of her suit's rear onto his chest, his crawl and his ferocity hopeless. He passed out soon after from the air being thrown out of his lungs, as she got up, kicking him over to keep him out of conciousness, before then approaching Iceman and finishing the deal, with a brutal kidney punch, followed by a taze.
The training was over, as she walked towards the door she came in through, both bodies over her shoulder. War Trophies.
"Interesting. Spectre does have a good streak. He caused me problems. He will be good indeed." Svetlana said, as Imran laughed.
"Well done. Get them back to their quarters, I'll have the physio check them out. Hopefully you didn't break half his ribs." Imran replied, as he looked to Howard, nodding.
"Let them on I say. They've done well. I mean, they're not like you Antoine, a ghost. Or you, Howard. A different kind of phantom indeed. But we need individuals like Spectre. Not to say Iceman did not stop. With the right kit, he will stand up. He has an awful lot of withstanding for this, a ability to go beyond it seems. And that material works well." He added, looking to both in the command centre, as he stood up, the salt water draining, as he looked over.
"You've got options. You can train with the VR stuff in there- the wingsuits are programmed up for your tastes, and the virtual sniper range is up. Since we can't fit targets 2.5km away inside this place, it's the closest we can do without having to go to a training center and making everything work out without pissing off the flyboys. Otherwise, feel free to chill out- I might need to sort some paperwork and logistics, I have a potential lead on Artemis that I'd like to look into a little more. Figure out what our next offensive move is." He said, looking to both of them, the now decloaked Antoine sitting in a seat, her balaclava off and her NVGs up, sitting back. Imran headed out, as somewhere on the other side, Svetlana had dumped the two temporarily lifeless bodies on a couple of beds in the Physio's ward, to get treated. They'd wake up, feeling shit, the adrenaline wearing off, and she'd make sure to make an effort to visit. She went back to the armory and got out of her suit, putting her black bra on and a pair of large cargo trousers, above her underwear- her bra making no mistake to reveal the sweat that poured down in an area that if you looked at for too long, you wouldn't live for very long following that.
Walking out, she headed to the Physio's ward, taking a seat by the beds that they were on, as the Doctor looked over them, and then Svetlana. Imran followed in, again, almost not half surprised now in the state that Svetlana had chosen. This was just how she was. She didn't care. Because she knew she was a King Tigress, the head, the woman that wasn't just big boobed, but big muscled and boned. And made sure that she wasn't ridiculed for the former by proving with the latter what she did.
"Two cracked ribs, he's breathing, shock though. He'll be good in about two hours." The doctor said to Svetlana, in relation to Spectre, as Imran looked at Iceman. He looked a little worse, not physically, but just wrecked.
"And Iceman?" Imran asked, as the Doctor shook his head. He had a distinctly Austrian accent, and all that Imran could think of, was the Medic from TF2, in some strange non-relating way. He didn't even look like him, he was about in his late 20s, and a distinctly experienced medic from the Austrian Army, with his specialty in wounds, as well as other problems usually relating to getting nearly blown up being his problem to solve.
"Well....whatever it is you hit him with, he looks like he's...defecated. Not the cattle prod, that one that we agreed is more of a torture device?" The Doctor said, as Svetlana shrugged her shoulders.
"Eh." She simply said, as Imran looked to her, almost in a semi-approving look, not commending or slating that decision. She had her ways, and that was how she did it.
"Wait, did you say he shit himself?" She added, realizing exactly what the Doctor had said.
"Yes." He simply replied, as Svetlana bent over, laughing alone, almost bellowing loudly, as Imran joined in, her laughter partially infectious, though it was still the loudest of the lot. If Iceman was just waking up, he had no idea what the hell was going on, and that to the woes of his partner too, he'd find out.
Imran watched, as the pair went through the training course efficiently, taking about 88 percent of the black targets down, and one white, one they shouldn't have. But the threshold was three white, they were out. For now, they had done well. Looking to Howard and Antoine, he nodded.
"They have what it takes- but you won't have to buy them the whiskey. I'll have them, that Spectre looks aggressive, service file supports why he's crazy. Mainly Cybernetics...well, it's experimental, but it works. Hard wires the human body to something else indeed, no surprises there. Iceman is a good Medium operator. Couragous. But I want to see how much so. I remember when Svetlana damn nearly crushed you, Howard. I don't want to know what pain they're going to get." Imran said, chuckling, as he moved to the microphone.
"Well done. Survive." Imran said coldly, aware it'd leave them in confusion.
Svetlana stood, her naked body within the armor moving easily, thanks to the fact that she had no GMG to carry, or an ammo rucksack. She had just a large cattle prod, and she was going to have fun with it. Walking up, she knew where they'd stop. Every time, right on the marker. She raised her foot as she moved fast, kicking the plywood wall over, the massive thing coming down, straight onto Spectre. He was fast, but he wasn't going to escape this, as it fell on him, temporarily pinning him. She felt shots ricochet, pointlessly. Iceman wasn't going to comprehend what was going on entirely here, because Svetlana was 7"5, and looked like she could really level a brick outhouse. She coldly walked up to Spectre, trapped under the plywood, and still taking shots, shoved the massive Cattle Prod into his back. 20,000 volts rushed out, the thing lighting up like a lightening bolt, as she knew she was still getting shot. She had an eye on Iceman, aware that he'd lose that last mag. And he'd have to make a last stand. Spectre was tough, and while he would have been a problem, now he was not. She didn't want to see how tough he was. He was conditioned, mentally prepared. It was the unchanged and just trained Iceman, that would feel her wrath next. The shock continued, as Spectre passed out, the current frazzling him and forcing him out of conciousness, as she put her faceplate up.
"Now just you and me, tough guy. Think you have what it takes?" She asked, standing at her full height, revealing her pretty face, as she widened her legs, and kept her enlarged cattle prod in her right hand, looking at him. He was out. And there was nowhere to run.
"They have what it takes- but you won't have to buy them the whiskey. I'll have them, that Spectre looks aggressive, service file supports why he's crazy. Mainly Cybernetics...well, it's experimental, but it works. Hard wires the human body to something else indeed, no surprises there. Iceman is a good Medium operator. Couragous. But I want to see how much so. I remember when Svetlana damn nearly crushed you, Howard. I don't want to know what pain they're going to get." Imran said, chuckling, as he moved to the microphone.
"Well done. Survive." Imran said coldly, aware it'd leave them in confusion.
Svetlana stood, her naked body within the armor moving easily, thanks to the fact that she had no GMG to carry, or an ammo rucksack. She had just a large cattle prod, and she was going to have fun with it. Walking up, she knew where they'd stop. Every time, right on the marker. She raised her foot as she moved fast, kicking the plywood wall over, the massive thing coming down, straight onto Spectre. He was fast, but he wasn't going to escape this, as it fell on him, temporarily pinning him. She felt shots ricochet, pointlessly. Iceman wasn't going to comprehend what was going on entirely here, because Svetlana was 7"5, and looked like she could really level a brick outhouse. She coldly walked up to Spectre, trapped under the plywood, and still taking shots, shoved the massive Cattle Prod into his back. 20,000 volts rushed out, the thing lighting up like a lightening bolt, as she knew she was still getting shot. She had an eye on Iceman, aware that he'd lose that last mag. And he'd have to make a last stand. Spectre was tough, and while he would have been a problem, now he was not. She didn't want to see how tough he was. He was conditioned, mentally prepared. It was the unchanged and just trained Iceman, that would feel her wrath next. The shock continued, as Spectre passed out, the current frazzling him and forcing him out of conciousness, as she put her faceplate up.
"Now just you and me, tough guy. Think you have what it takes?" She asked, standing at her full height, revealing her pretty face, as she widened her legs, and kept her enlarged cattle prod in her right hand, looking at him. He was out. And there was nowhere to run.
Spartan is sadly gone- but on we go. Going to post. And RPC, sadly, I feel that I'm about to unnecessarily screw your characters, but...it is a part of the training process. You can make it so that at least Iceman puts his brave face on.
Thanks dude- this RP can still breathe, might be interesting if we can get some more people potentially in.
In short, the team are above on a ridge at OP Nevada, and Jan has broken out the laser designator, to co-ordinate fire support, while the rest of the team covers- I know it isn't very interesting, but I felt that I had to do one buffer post before all shit goes to hell, and they head down, going straight into the airfield before the bulk of VDV forces parachute into the area- you could still use one of the Medved guys as an NPC if you wish, as they're shared NPCs amongst us I believe.
Thanks dude- I mean, this RP has a lot of ideas still flowing, and I want to get your characters into it better.
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