FourtyTwo

Task Force Lima (COMPLETED)

I will admit, my post was a bit crap, it wasn't as great as I wanted to make it.

Your combined awesome, Skyth and Silver, just finish it off in my head- that scene now seems very vivid in my head, and I'm glad you managed to make a better sense of it than I did. It gives it a greater depth and perspective, and I thank you for that.

After the exams, possibly even post-Lima, there may be some more RPs from me in a simular vein, which I would be interested to continue onwards. A few ideas linger- the failed Arma 3 one I did, as well as the one myself and Skyth were in (Harvest Red), along with a whole multitude of others have gotten me thinking. Possibly of a more combined arms, broader story than I've ever embarked on- with a bit of alternate history thown in; encompassing the role of intelligence agencies, fighter pilots, and maybe others.

Task Force Lima (COMPLETED)

Not the best post, but I tried- perspective is hard, and even my mind is jumbled, though I hope I did paint a fairly good picture of the situation. Considering that the events that are going on are within around the span of two minutes, I would say that it's well compressed.

I do want Lima to get into the chase, and onto the streets, with a little more three-way combat going on, even between police. Soon, you're going to see the beginnings of a Prologue that you saw all the way back in 2011...back on the old non-existent guild. Spooky, hey?

Task Force Lima (COMPLETED)

Jan kept on Scott's rear, the conference room turning to total anarchy, a little more furnished than any of the other rooms. An LCD screen on the far side was plastered in bullets, and there was a lot of enemies, just crowding into the place, Jan covering Scott's movement to the photocopier as a nifty piece of cover. He slid behind one of the desks and kicked it over, bullets planting in as he shot one of the men suppressing Scott, before ducking down, aware he was taking heat, Uzi man dead.
"Do it Zhenya, clear each and every room, go fast. Be ready for shotguns or close quarter weaponry on the other side. Lay shots into the top quarter, then kick the door in. Bullets go through plywood like paper. Cut down on explosives from here. We're close, and if we dent that canister, we're going to fuck ourselves even worse. This is bad- they're going to be in the next room. Once you're ready, set up another breaching point on the door leading through to the one we're in position by. We'll have two points of entry, and since the stairwell is at the other end, we should be able to neutralize these goons." Jan noted, as he looked over to Scott, nodding as he moved up, the room littered with bodies from Scott's pointmanship.
Moving over the table, Jan kept the 416 heightened, his blood pumping, body thundering with adrenaline and fear. Sweat poured down his face, and whilst his mouth and nose were covered by the bandit, he still looked more than definitely on edge. Moving around to the next door, Jan shot with a single round another runner, with louder yelling on the other side.

Meanwhile, Neil followed up Zhenya through the corridor, the sight grizzly.
"Roger that, Boss." Neil simply said, as he moved to the first door, laying rounds from the AS VAL, the voice of a man on the other side horrible, as Neil kicked the door down. Moving in, he put another set of subsonic 9x39mm rounds into the man, knocking him back down. The room was small, like they were more breakout roooms. From here, there were a couple more of these, and the toilets. The next two breakout rooms were empty, and Neil had let Zhenya take point on the other two in dealing whatever was inside, giving them the chance to systematically clean them out, one by one. They were all empty from there on out, and had little valuable supplies in them, as far as the eye could see.

After clearing the complex of doors, Neil and Zhenya were up against another door, another entry into the far side of the second floor, where there were what Jan only guessed the rest would go. If they hadn't headed down, they would be going up. Looking to Scott, Jan nodded once more, looking to the plywood door.
"Zhenya, Neil, set up a position on your door so that you can bung a flashbang in, hold tight on the explosives and look for the device. As far as I know, we're going to have company." Jan simply said, as he got ready to kick the door in, aware that they would breach almost at the same time. This was it, last room. Waiting on Zhenya's response, he knew that this last office complex of a room would be probably their best shot at finding what they needed. Turning the 416's Surefire M952V on, Jan prepared himself to move forward, the thin but powerful beam of light something that would be perfect for amplifying the effect from a flashbang. Throughout these offices, the lightbulbs had provided ample light, but from here, Jan wanted a little more illumination, as it was beginning to slowly falter.

"Now." Jan simply commanded immediately after Zhenya's response, as he kicked the door in, giving Scott the chance to move around after the 'bang, as at the same time, Neil lobbed the flashbang through the crack that Zhenya had made, the steel tube recoiling off a wall. The noise of gunfire rang out, as the men shot at the breachers' positions, but weren't accurate enough, or fast on their reflexes to respond to the white smashing blindness that was the flashbang that had been thrown in. The moment became an extended haze, as Jan moved around, following Scott, as did Neil with Zhenya. Laying down two men that were standing right in front of the door, Jan wiped them out with simple shots, as he moved to the side, taking cover by a steel table with a set of radios on top of it. Peeking fire, he took out another two men that were supressing the other breaching team, as Neil moved in himself, moving on the far side of the room where a few cracks in the plywood-covered windows existed, letting in a little streetlight, complimenting the failing office-styled bulbs that were in the ceiling.

It felt like hours passed, as Jan moved from the steel table, moving around the side to wipe out another contact that was moving towards the stairs, as Jan swept the area, peeking between the office tables, with the sight of one wielding an AK on the floor forcing Jan to act. A single bullet entered his abdomen, and he fired up into the roof, yelling loudly, as Jan moved the tilt of the rifle up, the CTR buttstock a tiny bit higher on his shoulder as he pulled the trigger. The man collapsed down, as he heard gunfire roar on down below, and screams develop.
"Look fucking around. We are not messing about here, fucking find that device!" Jan barked an order, looking between the rows of desks, empty of anything but just steel and plywood compartments here and there. There were small stores of kit, and other peripherals, this being almost a barrack of sorts. Sleeping bags and mats lay about occasionally, this really was a home for these people, and they'd kicked the door down on it. Neil moved to the crack in the windows, getting an eye out on the men outside, the two dead men that had run into the alley.
"Okay, so far, I got nothing here." Jan added, as Neil moved back towards the Captain, nodding as he moved down another bank. The room had been filled with at least a dozen men, and there were all dead now, thanks to the team's breach. It was getting puzzling, however, as they swept through, and nothing was there. Something was wrong, very, very wrong.

The crack of what sounded like an RPG, and a huge boom echoed through the room, as the fascia of the building on the second floor, in the room that the team were inside, practically disintegrated, huge blocks and chunks of concrete falling apart, as Jan swore. He dived beneath one of the steel desks, just keeping his head together, as the round blew away the whole wall, the Pole coughing as he looked out. Car alarms blared, and gunshots were being fired from outside. Jan didn't know how or what, but something told him that they were going to have to run. Either the militants had their own escape strategy that had gotten them out of the building with the device from the moment that the breach had occured, or Medved had let a corner slip. Jan didn't know, and he frankly didn't want to care which one it was. Either way, the concequences were identical. They were going to have to run.
"Contacts, moving upstairs, coming from above! Wendy, we're going to have at least half a dozen runners going down the alley and towards the shopping street, clap them fast, and keep us posted on where the guy with the device is! Hold your fire on him- we do not want to risk a leak, just watch him!" Jan added, as he moved forward, taking out a couple of the contacts on the street, civilians running scared, as they ran away, some shot by the men on the ground in a crazed crossfire. Magnifier on, Jan shot two of the men that were down below,
"We need to waste those assholes! Medved, secure the building, Lima is going to conduct pursuit of the targets. Don't argue, just fucking make sure that nobody else leaves. There is no trace whatsoever of anything that suggests nuclear here, so I'm going to assume that whatever group is on the move out there, is going to have it."Jan added, as he moved aside from the around 8 by 5 meter hole in the side of the building, the HE round being definitely a hard hitting munition. Jan was somewhat thankful the team wasn't too close to the windows at the time, though he knew that he not have dived down, this could be a lot worse than it already just was.

"They're trying to delay us with this bulllshit...okay, this is going to seem insane, but we've got at least another fifteen feet below us to go down. We need to go down to street level by any other method, and get a chase on. The stairs are going to be crammed and too slow, and they'll fuck us over if we try it. Rappelling is too slow..shit, Scott, run and get whatever you have left of your cord set up on the frame of that window, throw it out, and fast rope it down. Just throw yourself down the line and try not to break your legs when you hit the ground. Find some cover, and we'll follow suit. Zhenya, then me, then Neil after our exit is good. We're going to have to follow them to the street, and that means making this a whole lot dirtier than I wanted." Jan simply yelled over to the tema, as he took out another two men on the road, clearing the hostiles there out, but Jan could only guess that there were more that were already on the streets. Police sirens could be heard in the distance, as Jan set up cover by a concrete pillar, firing through the wrecked windows that had been blasted apart by the RPG. Rubble was still falling occasionally from the side of the building, as Neil set up a cordon on the stairs, covering the team's rear, as he clapped another set that came from the third floor.
"Scott, you're clear!"

Vigil!

Sorry if my posts can be sometimes a little incomplete at first. That said, view it like a piece of scaffolding- the rest will up soon! :)

Vigil!

"It sounds good, Austin. A piece of tech like that wasn't available to me in my service. The less you know about what I did, the better, but I won't stop you digging." Lucas said, knowing full well as a former SEAL, Austin could maybe make two and two connect. He did have an awfully good reason for being called Trident, after all. Blasting through a four way junction, he kept an eye out, watching out.
"You would be surprised about rats, you can turn people really easy if you hold something very dear. Coercion isn't too bad. I had this one guy, Ivan. Low level dealer, pimp. I applied enough voltage to him, and took his girlfriend hostage. Bad, I know. But I know he cared for her. So he fed me the intel for these labs, pointed on a map. He never knew me, of course. Voice changer and balaclava as a combo do work wonders. But he knows he gave the game away, and his girlfriend came back as clean as I promised. The guy is alive, but I did some really, really bad shit to remind him. I am watching, or so he'd like to think." Lucas said, looking out, then back at Austin, before turning a corner.
"It's tricky. But it's knowing what they have to lose. Social Engineering. It's easier to manipulate people by taking something they thought safe, and making them do all the work for you, rather than trying to force yourself in. And here...well, let's say that even Russians aren't like the Taliban. They betray you, you're like a ghost, not them." He added, as he adjusted the sun visor, the sun still rising a little over the east, as they headed back to Austin's repair shop.

Pulling round the back, Lucas sat back, looking to the bearded repairman come fixer.
"I'll call you when you're needed. Tonight, I might need you for a quick favor, but keep those components in mind. Once it's set, we'll act on it, immediately. If I don't call you in the next four days, or vice versa, I'm going to assume that one of us is dead. Start asking too many questions over the phone, and I'll know that we're finished- because it will be because someone has a shiv to your throat. Watch your back, Austin." Lucas simply said, as he shut the passenger door, nodding to him as he drove away, heading back to his office.

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

Natalie coughed, feeling a huge pain in her chest, the pain unimaginable. She was incredibly lucky the shrapnel didn't go any deeper, though she was leaving a bloody mess about the place. She could see the blur of Victor come closer, his heavy footsteps hit the ground, as she felt him get down, and pick her up, looking at the bloody mess that was left of the room.
"I should be dead..." She said, the rain pouring down on the burning portcabin, looking at her chest, and all over. She was right- anyone else, and they very likely would be. Natalie and Victor were a little more thick skinnned than most, after all. In Brussels, Victor and her had taken enough rounds to down a bull, and they had been still fighting. Right now, Natalie knew that a piece of shrapnel like that, a piece of metal cornering that was off the side of the portacabin, should have gone through her like a hacksaw. It hadn't- and wheather it was down to her cleavage, or the thick skinned nature she had, or the chest muscle she had, it had saved her.
"God....I love you, Victor." She said, rubbing her hand against his cheek, half smiling as she
Maybe even it had placed a rib out of place. Touching it would be bad, but blood was pouring, albeit slow. There was a dragged pile, and seeing it was sickly. As Victor carried her, she blacked out, slowly, as she felt a little light. She had fought hard, but it felt like for a moment of a lapse of concentration, it had gone.

----

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=It4WxQ6dnn0

Natalie woke, looking around. Clambering up, she realized where she was, an unfamiliar place but in perhaps a very familiar suit. This was her armor. The soft touch of the blue satin against her naked curves inside, the kevlar and dragonskin, as well as an inch of ballistic plating reminding her that this was what she indeed was defined by. She felt heavy, barely able to get up, her helmet off, and her blonde hair, not even blown. The air was dry, like it had no humidity, no pressure, nothing. Everything was weirdly white, but almost half-grey. She walked across the blank floor, an echoing noise rolling through, as she felt the weight sink down. It was her old armor, when she was Bear. Looking around, she could see memories. Like photographs, images. Of her at the Olympics. Of her and Victor in East Timor, with Victor's stupid grin. And a selfie in Miami, when Natalie remembered showing Victor the power of her jugs. Well, it was sure an interesting life, she thought to herself. It was empty, like there wasn't a hot heat, or a rising feeling. If this was Purgatory, so be it, Natalie thought to herself. In her armor, sitting amongst the remains of her memories, going through them. All the lives she had taken. Maybe God would wait till she realized something. She didn't know. A tear ran down her face, Natalie wiping it with her huge gloved hands, almost taking half the moisture off her cheek with it. Natalie was a strong woman. But one thing only rang out to her. She would never see Victor again, not till he followed. She had broken a promise to him. And she sobbed, the 7"5 mass of Russian armored female on her knees, crumpling down in tears, as a shot that blew the scene completely out hit her head. It was over.

---

"CLEAR!" Natalie heard, as the defibrillator buzzed, Natalie lunging up. She had just had a near death experience. She didn't know how long it was, but it had felt like an eternity in itself. She shuddered, looking towards the sight of the landed Mi-8 Hip, and another squad of Spetsnaz soldiers, that covered the area. They were leaving, and quick, as the sound of distant vehicles could be heard. A patrol returning. There was more of them to come, no doubt. She felt herself be carried on teh stretcher, by at least four men, to carry her weight, and get slid into the back of the Russian Medevac helicopter, as she looked on. She didn't know what Victor was doing, but she sighed a breath of relief. One of the men carrying her looked down.
"How are you not dead? I've never seen a chest wound worse...you were out for at least three minutes, I'm amazed you're not dead." One of the Medics said, as Natalie laughed.
"Well...somebody likes me, for certain. Can you pull it out? I mean, it fucking hurts." Natalie said, just aware that wasn't a reality, but a delusional thought process. Looking over at Victor, firing his weapon, covering their exit. The GMG roared, as Natalie looked to him, coming back, clambering through the rear clamshell of the helicopter, the weight of his armor significant pushing the helicopter's weight to the back. Dust off was fast, as Natalie felt a IV lead go into her wrist, and a oxygen mask over her face, as she leaned back into the stretcher, a slight tear in her face. Never had Natalie been so sad, to leave this world. She knew it would be like this, but she didn't want to leave her sunlight, her one true love alone in this world. She felt happy to live, and knew that whatever Victor had done, the MEDEVAC had arrived safe and in time. They had left the base quick, and Natalie hadn't caught a single word of what had happened. It didn't matter.
"We're going to have to give you a lot of anaesthetic, Natalya, it's..."
"No, fucking let me watch. I'm not going light headed again. If it can go in and last there for a few minutes, I'm sure the sight of my big fiance will let me get through it. Trust me." She said, as the Medic looked over.
"Are you sure, you're delirious..."
"I'm not...and if you think that anesthetic you have onboard is enough to put me to sleep for even a few minutes, it isn't. Do it. You know what you are doing. I do too." She said, still in agony, as the other medic tended to her burns, lacing her- they weren't third degree, and would likely heal, but a little tinge of this event would remain. They would need to pull it out, lest she got infected, or any more blood was lost. And Natalie knew that a blood transfusion was going to be severe. Lucky she was AB, she thought to herself. It would be a hellish experience- she'd probably lost at least three litres worth of blood, if not more. She had several wounds, shrapnel that had scraped her, but not cut into arteries. Anyone else would be dead right now. But the sheer volume that Natalie was meant that she did indeed, live to fight another day. Somehow.

The next thirty minutes looked like something out of Master and Commander, with screams revibrating throughout the Mi-8's interior, and medics amazed that Natalie was just watching on, and not passing out. The tough Russian woman had undergone what most would simply call insane medical treatment, by a couple of medics in the back of a helicopter. A blood transfusion, with all the blood that was basically onboard did for now, taking her out of her hazy blur, the fact she was AB being a vindicating factor for Natalie. The shrapnel was partially removed, and a lot of the wounds were healed. Natalie had at least three broken ribs, and more cuts and bruises than could be counted. Her lungs hadn't been punctured, but she was winded- likely down to the loss of blood resulting in less oxygen going round her body. It was a horrifying set of injuries, but in some fashion, Natalie was going to live.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0VbaGWmQfTQ

Looking over at Victor, she smiled, taking her oxygen mask off as she slowly sat up, she smiled.
"You saved me. My knight in shining armor." She said simply, smiling, as she knew from his sitting position, and in his armor, he had done little to help with the medical treatment. But then again, he had carried her out of the fires, and called the evac. She didn't know the sequence, but all she knew, was that his armor was dirty, bloodied, and indeed, shining, from the soaking rain. She knew she was like him. But she had to say it, like any woman would to a man like him.
"I saw everything we did. Purgatory was boring, they say near death experiences are meant to reveal everything...yet it only revealed you." She said, smiling, words forming as she felt her emotions come out.
"You're the love of my life. And I was by your side, when you lay in hospital, wounded. You're by mine. Says everything. We were made for each other. For good and bad, for better and for worse." She said, coughing a little, the blood empty from her throat, where some of the internal bleeding had gone. It was lucky it was cleaned fast- her blood had been transfused in the helicopter, and it was a miracle that they were able to do that onboard.
"It's going to take more than a bomb blast to seperate us, Victor. Nothing more would satisfy your Gods, to see us succeed. Set a dynasty. Kiss me, Victor." She said, smiling, just feeling the wet cheek of Victor with her hand, aware she was weak- but strong enough to know exactly that she wanted Victor to snog her, whether he was in his armor or not.

Burning Rubber (Bee and kingkonrad)

Shifting up, Ross dived back onto the road, roaring through a tunnel of sorts as he weaved traffic, the 6.2L V8 more akin to something that would fit in a Shelby, not a elegant German Coupe. None the less, it was an incredible sound, as Ross weaved into the hard shoulder, blaring past a couple of generic-looking sedans- most likely some Ford Mondeos, or Honda Accords. He didn't worry about that right now. Getting clear of the cops was priority number one, as the road went on, Ross still going back and forth between in and out of cars, the V8 wanting to spin the back wheels up and make this beast feral. Looking behind, he kept an eye on Kimberly, before turning back off onto the right, looking at the exit.
"We're pulling off here, we might be able to lose our tail. Down to Al-Barsha Road." Ross added, taking the junction clean, as he sped past the construction work, aware that if Kimberly kept tight, and wove past the traffic, she might make it through.

Turning hard, and braking, the ceramics heating up as Ross hit the handbrake and shifted down, the rear wheel skidding as he then was back on the throttle in a sharp acute turn, Ross pulled into the small road, almost single laned, forcing people from the road as he turned left, heading down into the more complex roads, down into Al Barsha, as he kept on the throttle, the sound of sirens becoming a little more distant, though still in the area. Ross kept to the throttle, flooring it down the road and breaking a red light, turning hard left onto another road, between a pair of apartment blocks, dust kicking in the track as he then turned right, the wonder of Dubai's PD still going on- this was a chase that had lasted more than long enough now, and they wanted it over. That wasn't what Ross was going to let them have, not today, as he carried on, aware that they'd lose them soon.
"We might need to split, find some cover under a roof, then head out. Keep as low a profile as we can, apart. Wait, shit, didn't our contact say he left false plates in the boot?" Ross asked, as he thought it through.
"Shit, it might just be screwdriver time, we might get though this easier than I thought..." Ross added, braking hard again and kicking up some dust, as he drove through past the American Academy in Dubai, flooring it through the four way junction and just looking around, for places to quickly lay the car low for a moment or two.

Burning Rubber (Bee and kingkonrad)

Name: Sebastian "Seb" Rietsch
Age: 24

Appearance:


Disciplines Faced: Snowboarding, Skiing, Wingsuit BASE, Paragliding, Rock/Ice Climbing

Seb is around 5"10, with brown shaved hair, and a little stubble on his face, usually being seen with a pair of red-tinted Oakley sunglasses on, as well as a longsleeved grey thermal shirt, when in warmer climes. He seems fairly skinny, but well built for skiing, with a bit of muscle where it counts. Seb can be usually seen on the slopes wearing a dark blue Mammut down jacket, and black salopettes, though for wingsuiting, he usually has a different attire. A blue, with black wingsuit, and a blue parachute is usually his option of colors, having a definite affinity with blue. He usually wears a black Mammut beanie, and tends to his carbon black Salomon snowboard and skis with a very specific love and care. He is definitely an adrenaline junkie, from every pour of his look- a diving Peregrine Falcon on his back reinforcing the image, as well as an Ice Monster of sorts on his right shoulder. He seems to be calm and collected, yet willing to push himself as hard as possible, diving into abysses and cracks that most wouldn't try, aware that he is a little more risque than his opposite, Ellie; though perhaps a little more embracing and reinforcing of when it isn't good to go at others.

Skis (and Snowboard) Color:

Skis (and Snowboard Color Scheme)

Wingsuit

Nationality: Austrian
History:
Seb was born in the mountains of the Tyrolian Alps, in Innsbruck, Austria. His mother was a local teacher, and his father, a ski instructor, in the pistes. The first sport that Seb obviously got into then, was skiing. He had a natural talent for it, and loved the sport, looking into doing more and more crazy things with it. Education was important through his mother, sure; but after school, he'd always hit the slopes, and if it was summer, then he would go to the very top of the glaciers and start there. He picked up rock and ice climbing very quickly at a young age- and found that while he wasn't doing it as a sport, he did it because he wanted to go places so he could ski from. That was always going to be a good motivator, and in the Tyrolian Alps, that was ideal. There was no bound for Sebastian- he had found his calling, or so he felt.

When he was 14, he switched to snowboarding, and picked this up equally as well, finding that his home really was on the snow, going fast. He was considering going for the Austrian Skiing Team at one point, but this fell through due to a string of injuries, and the sudden illness of his father at the age of 16, when he began suffering from Testicular Cancer. He felt depressed, and saddened, finding that his father was no longer able to generally carry on, Seb was deeply depressed. He failed plenty of his exams, and felt like he was in a hole, a gap. Then, a friend told him to take up skydiving, as a side joke in the Chalet Bar. This he did, and he didn't look back.

After starting the AFF course, Seb was addicted. So addicted, he carried on, and got more and more jumps done. He had left education, and now worked full time instructing on the slopes, young but talented enough to teach tourists, and make a buck. His mother fed the family, while he get himself enough cash together to pay for his jumps. His father recovered from his cancer by the time Seb was 18, but he never was as good at teaching as he was before- and helped out at home, something that Seb had abandoned. His career of teaching people how to ski and snowboard was one that was dreary to Seb by now- knowing these slopes since being a toddler, but was one that he had to do. It paid his lifestyle, after all. By the time he reached 200 jumps, Seb had his eyes fixed on one thing only. Wingsuiting.

He was 20 when he did his first jump, and it was again, something fixating. Something that fueled him to carry on. He wanted more and more, and this he started getting, as he jumped more regularly. He was up to 500 jumps by the age of 21, almost spending everything he had earned in a month in getting to the dropzone, and jumping. He was committed, and from there, it spiralled even further. BASE jumping, from a fellow friend he had met in the Dropzone, recomended that he should try the death defying sport. Like with previous things, Seb found that it was even more epic and adrenaline pushing than anything he had done. Combined with a wingsuit, it was insanity, just total madness, seeing the mountain passes and cliffsides rush by. The speed was mad, and it was one that drove him to adore what he did.

By 23, he had flown almost 100 wingsuit BASE jumps, and it occured to him, that he had never once filmed himself doing it. A friend's Go Pro, and a simple upload later, and what happened was absolutely stunning. Seb saw the views spike, at almost two million- the video going viral after it showed a death-defying line through the crack of a Austrian glacial pass. The "Wingman" YouTube channel was born. It was one that stunned Seb, and got him started in his YouTube career, making simple blogs and posting footage. This attracted the attention of GoPro, who signed him on as an athlete. It was here he met Ellie Dorian; a woman of similar conviction like him, who share a passion for speed, snow and adrenaline. They fell into a romance quick, working on similar snow and wingsuit projects for GoPro, in either ads or YouTube videos. It was the end of his job as a ski instructor, and working as a packer at the dropzone. Now, he had sponsorship, his job was his enjoyment in life.

As a result of his more interesting activities in his Vlogging, Seb has also learned how to dive (in Icy lakes), and Paraglide, as a part of his channel's content on Wingman, often scoring a good number of views. His collaboration with GoPro has given him the opportunity to travel, and experience more things than ever in life- though he does feel like a bit of a drifter at times, never feeling stuck down.

Seb is fluent in English, speaking it with a German accent but remaining very clear in his speech- a trait due to his mother and lots of English tourists. He is also fluent in French, and his native German (in Austria at least) to boot. He conducts his blogs in English, just to keep reaching a wider audience.

Theme Song:

Madeon-Home

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

Natalie chuckled, seeing the big and mighty Victor Kaantario, fully armored up, as her Knight in shining armor. It wasn't lusterous, but it might as well have been in this rainy Siberian evening. There was something about the armor, that they both shared. They were big people, but Natalie always reminded herself, that she was like him in hers. Invincible. Almost. But more or less, a force of nature, with enough ammunition and armor to walk through the deepest thrones of hell and back without too much problems. From the bottom of the armored boots of the suit to his helm, there was enough armor to effectively prevent even a .50 entering, and even IFVs would be a little worried about a head on assault against an operator like Victor.
"My beautiful Mohican badass. Sure, I could use your rear as cover." She said, chuckling, her voice a little drowned out by fire, but audible still. She was a little shorter, so didn't protrude from Victor's rear as badly, using the big armored fella in front as cover, as he drew fire, Natalie firing on men around and to his right, as they pushed forward, Natalie feeling the force of the GMG's kickback even from behind. The burly Russian Goddess followed the Mohican titan of a giant, aware that such a combination was just...well, even to Natalie's disproportionate view of life, the one that involved downing aircraft by flying jet-powered wingsuits, the one that involved wearing almost near enough 250kg plus of armor and a weapon with attached ammunition that weighed not significantly less. The one that involved fucking a giant atop a hot air balloon in an Alps with the cold wind blowing between her bosoms, and the one that involved being rich. She was 26, for crying out loud. ANd to her, this was just epic. This moment here, of being behind her armored partner, and firing her PKP at rogue mercenaries. This was life.

Moving around, she took out a pair that moved out of a shed, mowing them down quick and clean, as she let Victor mow down enemies. As he took increasing volumes of fire, Natalie moved away to stop getting shot at, sliding by an ammunition cache, and lobbing a few frags forwards.
"He's in that structure right there! No doubt he's got a lot of heat. I've got this guy- just hang on a second. You have FLIR, correct?" She said, half knowing that he did, as she took the remaining Smoke Grenades she had. Lobbing them over, she felt her bra almost completely tear apart. And in that moment, Natalie did argueably go full Amazon from there on out. Even the one piece wasn't keeping her two bosoms in, but that wasn't something she cared about.
"Cover me!"

Natalie slid across the boxes, running, out into the smoke, as fire poured around her. Not at her, but at the big giant. She charged, the PKP on her back, and the two Skorpions in her hands, fully loaded, as she charged through the smoke. She knew where she was going. The Spetsnaz-dressed female, her juggs in the open was accelerating towards the portacabin, and when she was in front, it was like a force of nature had decided to knock. The door had been reinforced with two padlocks, but with Natalie's weight, it was like it was made of paper. She dove in, and was already firing, the two guards at the window downed, as Natalie ran forwards, seeing the sight of Maxim, and another accomplice. Natalie shot the other one in the head with the last of the left hand Skorpion, as she spent the rest of the right on Maxim's leg. The man was a terrorist, and had facilitated Wolf's Claw. It had let them carry on their activities, and right now, Natalie had nothing more to lose than kicking the shit from him, as close as she could. Crumpling down, the man yelled, as Natalie moved forward, tits hanging, and drew him over. He had a scary smile on his face before she fully came onto him, and Natalie suddenly screamed. Diving down, she snapped his neck with the crumpling of her body, but it wasn't enough. The sound of fire and heat was immense, as the explosion rocked the whole compound, the click from his right hand enough to do the job. Natalie's vision went to black.

Opening her eyes with a slow movement, she felt the portacabin was on fire, rolling off as she looked at her burnt clothes, the sound of screaming men all over. She couldn't move, she felt in agony, wounded severely. A huge wound sat over her chest, and she coughed a little, seeing a small piece of shrapnel inside, missing her internal organs by a mere couple of centimeters. It had gone in crooked, and was agonizing, horrifyingly bad. She would survive this, Natalie said to herself. The sight of smoke and burning could be seen, and dead men. Her radio was out, and she felt immobile. There must have been a sabotaged setup to prevent intel falling into the wrong hands here, and the compound had been rigged, if it came to that. Natalie was lucky to be in this portacabin, though it was practically destroyed, with Natalie feeling the burning ash and sight of smoke and general hell around her. She didn't know about Victor, but all she knew was, that if she had survived, he probably had too. She coughed up blood, Natalie just holding onto light, as she slowly dragged herself across the floor, screaming in pain, as she hoped that Victor would see her. She hoped she could survive this, but Natalie knew that the other Spetsnaz team was probably dead, and the PMC men too. Nothing could have survived that. The compound must have had enough explosives to level a skyscraper or two, because everything looked destroyed. She turned her head slowly, her burnt eyebrows and partially burnt blonde hair following suit as she saw the large figure come closer, as she fought to stay conscious. This was worse than Brussels, that was bullets, they could come out, this felt far, far worse. She started blacking out again, and felt light headed, unable to get air into her monumental lungs, just feeling him come closer and closer, and just hoping to stay conscious enough to have him by her side. She felt horrid, and her strength was showing, in the way she was trying to stay like this.

Vigil!

Lucas smirked, taking the M4A3, inspecting the rifle, as he adjusted the stock, pulling it out a little, as he chuckled, taking aim.
"It's a fucking beauty. I'm not going to ask how you got this, but I'll assume you have good friends to get you this. It's a tool alright." The Vigilante said, as he adjusted the RDS, the MARS optic a nice sighting picture for quickly picking up targets. Slinging the weapon over his shoulder, he looked about, at the ammunition, and the other pieces of kit.
"You know, Austin, maybe you are smarter than I imagined. You figured it out well. Connected the dots. But keep that on the down low. You have no idea of how dangerous it makes you to supply me. I mean, you can walk away with your hands clean now, or stay and rough this shitstorm out. It isn't going to be easy. There are men in this fucker's organization who eat people, and can expose everything and anything about your life. You have a family, Austin. I'm telling you now. Don't do something you will regret later, even if the money talks and the bullshit suddenly walks." Lucas simply said, as he sighed.
"You're one of the most talented gunsmiths and fixers I know. You pull shit from thin air sometimes. In this climate, that works well. I need information on another target, something a little more varied. Walk with me." Lucas added, as he slung the weapon down, heading back to where the duffel was, and placing the weapon inside, along with at least half a dozen PMAG polymer magazines. This was military grade stuff- definitely hard to obtain by any other means. Zipping it up, he headed outside, out to the back.
"We need to drive somewhere." Lucas simply said, as he headed to his RS7, unlocking it with his keys, before slipping in.

Letting Austin get shotgun, he shut his own door, engine on. No music at the moment, but he thought about putting his MP3 on again, just to kill the time. The duffel on the backseat, he pulled out of the alley, keeping an eye about him.
"If you want in on this, then you're going to need to be ready to do a few things for me. Small pieces of work. But you're going to need to be more careful than the world. Right now, I think I have us a ploy on getting some cash. I call it accounting for the Mafiya. One of their drug dens went up last night, so indirectly, I struck at one of their key earners. But tell me, who sells Crystal Meth in New Realna these days, APART from the Mafiya?" Lucas said, as he let Austin give a response, before then giving his own statement.
"There are some, yes. One percenter biker gangs mainly, but they're mobile, mostly at least. No, there's pretty much just them. Indirectly, supply is down, demand is just the same. Drug Dealer 101. They can sell their shit for more profit. What I'm thinking, is we redistribute the wealth from their increased buisness accumen. In the short term, they can make a buck, but in the long term, their supply of Crystal will wean off. And other fill in drugs, or imports from the Motherland will mean that this little gold rush ends." Lucas said, driving through an orange light, aware he was indeed a amber gambler of sorts. The black RS7 was comfortable, but twitchy enough to turn a corner clean and at a high speed, with the V8 purring gently right now.

It was an almost twenty minute drive, out to the outskirts of the city, over a couple of bridges and near a more industrial set of facilities. Pulling up on the kerb, he switched the engine off, looking around, before peering back to Austin.
"This is the spot." Lucas said, as he pointed it out, aware the blacked out windows kept him covered for now, from a side on angle at least.
"Over there, is the old bottling factory. Now, I've been here over the last few days. I was going to pop yesterday, before a certain meth and skunk lab decided to combust. Now, it seems fairly busy. At least a dozen more guards, as you can see." Lucas simply said, pointing out the four-storeyed brick structure, which stood amongst a few of the other buildings, in this rough area. It was almost noon, but this place was still pretty gritty, and a darker side.
"Why the guards? I watched it because I got a tail from one of the men that was working at the meth lab. They cover well, but I assume that was the money man. So this isn't a store of all their cash, but the revenue is going to be good, definitely, if some of it is stored here. They probably have it here so that the authorities don't chase it down, and when they need to, they send it straight off to be laundered through various shops and services that the Mafiya has...well, stakes in." Lucas simply added, as he sat up in the car, looking around, for anyone else.
"Do you know what's so good about robbing criminals? They can't go to the police when their money is stolen. So they have enforcers go get it back for them. This would be a huge job. I estimate minimum, $1 million in hard cash. Partly to fund my work, partly to screw them out of their drug money, and partly because I want some of that cash back in the coffers of the good old police department and other public institutions. Corrupt, yes, but it's better than in the hands of a bunch of violent Russian criminals. Doing it alone is hard enough, so I've just waited till if something happens, I act on opportunity. I might as well try different now, Austin."

"So here's what I need. I'll need you to figure a way out for me to get a look inside. I was thinking a variety of methods would work. A drone, perhaps, or a mole. I can do the second well if I find me the right person and enough reason to believe he'll walk in and tell me everything I need to know when he comes out. I'll need a grappling hook, and two pairs of Night Vision Goggles. Hard to get, I know, but trust me- it's a wider part of the plan. A cut in the power, so a small explosive or at least tools for the pylon, followed by some more. If you're interested, I could use a second eye across the road. That warehouse is completely derelict, and from that second storey, you can set up a shot. If I remember correctly, you said you were a Force Recon Marksman. So you'll be fine. If help is what you want to do, then we do that." Lucas simply said, breathing, as he chuckled.
"Demanding, yes, unorthodox, definitely. But with that many guards, I need to tear through them. I'd need to find the cash, and get out, in three minutes. The M4A3 will do well, but if things go to shit, running is a better option in this one, no matter what. A bike will do for extraction, while you drive down the road innocently, stripped of anything incriminating whatsoever. I need you to be with me on this one, Austin. You'll have a cut too, but remember why we do this. I want to fuck these people over. They ruin the lives of enough people. When they know one of their money sites isn't safe, they'll start thinking about the nature of their operation." Lucas added, as he shook his head, somehow in disbelief himself almost.
"I need you to work your wires. It's up to you. But remember, I need to figure out what the inside looks like, without getting shot; from the money to guards, vantage points to areas of entry and weakness. I need a grappling hook, so a titanium cable and thrown quadruple-fishhook arrangement will be fine. I need a couple of charges, something better than the Semtex I can make, and apart from that, I need general intel on this site. It's big, but I think you might as well. It's on the back burner for now, so take your time. I give it about a few days, then we deal a blow to this place." He said repeating his last list, as he started the engine again.
"For now though, I reckon some smaller stuff is in order. How's your schedule looking for this evening?" He asked, as he turned the car around, skidding as he put the throttle on, the V8 surging as the car's 600BHP engine blew the RS7 very quickly out of that block.