FourtyTwo

State of Siege

This is interesting as fuck, actually. I will keep my eye on this. I would love to play a US Marine of sorts, in charge of a squad-sized element, someone who has weathered conflict before. A badass, but I always do like to see that idea of cracks in characters which can shake things up. I've done plenty of military-themed RPs, but this seems to take a fresh new take on the genre, and if I must say, the political slant of it too of questionable morality makes it ever more exiting.

Any UK RPers here?

Living in Swindon, ye old Wiltshire. Swindon is pretty soulless to be fair, our only history is a big fucking railway and a roundabout that I use everyday that seems to mindfuck the planet. Seriously, five mini roundabouts around a contra-rotating central roundabout is not that hard to navigate- it's not enough to be Magical....we haven't got a lot else in regards to culture I suppose. :D

I'm a 3rd Generation Pole, so I've lived here all my life, no blood from these Isles (grandparents/great grandparents on my father's side came over following the Second World War). I'm bilingual, and I have no Polish accent when I'm speaking English (virtually none at all), yet when I speak Polish, I am told I have no particular accent either in my second tongue. Strange. So I'm sort of between cultures, I can consider myself both English and Polish, though I speak the former language far easier.

EDIT: Oh, and tuition fees, they are not bad compared to 'Merica. We have £9,000 a year to pay for university, in my case, including ones for accommodation, it will come to about £50,000 for four years. This is owed to the government, but you only pay it back if you earn over 21K a year, and it's such a slow rate of payback, you'll probably die before you do. Doesn't affect your credit score, or anything- I see it as a graduate tax (which is less depressing than saying I'm 50K in debt to the government). Moving abroad or going over 60 writes it off, by the way (in the former case, you best be ready to stay the fuck away from the UK so long as to not get hounded), and if I'm honest, gets you a pretty good deal. You get more cash if you're disadvantaged, more owed money yes but this money is basically never going to get paid back (it is dodgy as fuck, but you have to live with that fact as this is now stupid levels of money), and it means that almost anyone can go to university if they want. The key word there is almost- and while I'm off to Bristol, I know that some people aren't too fond of it.

Vigil!

I'm not really down for it- it was a good RP, but too long ago. Sent you a PM by the way :)

Backdrifts (Space Survival RP)

Nice- I know that Makoto didn't have a lot on his end, but I do soon hope to remedy that.

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

Ross nodded, looking over at Felix, simply saluting to respect his senior officer. This was a man that was particularly famous around these parts, and his role in all of this was no doubt, an instrumental one. He was a stern man, even on the other end of the projector. He seemed to know what he was doing, and explained it in enough detail for Ross to understand, fully aware of what they were going in on. After the end of the General's brief, the reality of this was falling onto Ross. It was a big job- this was a holdout that had to go, and 500 men against 50,000 sounded fairly unbalanced. The Captain knew, however, this was an enemy that was exceptionally well-equipped, and would give no quarter on the route up. You couldn't fit 50,000 men on a handful of routes up the mountain either, no matter how elite they were. No, it would be a task down to a few hundred, and it would be one that would force them to at the very least, put the key in the lock to get the rest of the task force in.

"Understood, General." Ross simply replied, as they were dismissed, Ross's Devonshire accent sticking out as he looked out to the other two Juggernauts, Carl and Jennifer. He knew that Carl should be combat ready sooner or later, but it did linger in his head that the ankle was going to still be weak, with all that weight thrown in. Ross just didn't want anything to happen to him, because he was sure as hell not carrying him out of this again.
"So, a head on assault then. It's going to be interesting, that is for certain. We'll need a punch to take them on and win, so at least we'll have backup in the form of those fucking monsters." He added, Jenny nodding in response.
"No doubt. 500 men is a bit too much for us, but if we hit them fast, they won't be able to get their explosives on us. I will need to do some EOD work on that road, but if they have the height advantage, they'll rain down shit on us. I suppose that is where Natalie and Victor come in. Crazy motherfuckers. I still can't believe how much firepower they have." She added, as she looked over at the topagraphical map, taking in the details, as well as the LZ that had been marked out.

"It's why they're coming. We need firepower and armor on two feet, and they are practically invincible so long as they don't get shredded. If they're paradropping a platoon to a company of men in, to reinforce how badass those two are, then we're going to have some serious fighting along that whole trail. That mountain road is going to be sugar coated in snipers and TOWs. Both could stop us in our tracks, and I suppose we offer the best protection from them. Those giants will be a big target for any of their AT capabilities, and their men would be susceptible to even light fire. We're an in-between, if you could call it that." Ross looked over at the same map, seeing the winding route head up to the fort, occasionally doubling back and occasionally going a little gentler along a lesser gradient of the mountain, checkpoints dotted along with potential IED fields. It was going to be hell, but no doubt, once it was cleaned out there would be a chance to actually get inside the fort and wipe it clean, and Ross could understand that element to all of this.

"There's going to be traps all along, I can tell. It's perfect ambush territory. We've got advanced bomb detection kit that we can grab, with a pair of sweepers and my ATO stuff, I can pick most things apart. That said, if they put a large enough charge, that road is going to collapse, let alone the whole fucking mountainside, and with it any chance of us getting in there at all. Command probably doesn't want to bomb it due to the high value intel inside." Jenny commented, looking through the maps once more, the Scottish Royal Marine just contemplating this all over.
"Most likely. Here's to hoping we don't have to pick up pieces of people once we're in position." Ross said, as he looked at the LZ once more.
"We're dropping into hell, from the looks of it. Small area, it's on a flatter gradient. But it leaves no room for error. Fuck it up, you'll get seriously injured. So we'll have to regroup and set up a movement along that road as fast as possible, snipers covering throughout. They'll be our eyes and ears on what will be above us. A couple of MAV drones wouldn't go amiss, to give us a view of what we're going to run into before we even hit it." Ross added, as he looked to Carl.
"This might be the craziest thing we've done yet."

Task Force Lima (COMPLETED)

Gonna edit it one last time- I looked over it one more time and wasn't happy with it. Feel free to post in any order, by the way.

Burning Rubber (Bee and kingkonrad)

Ross followed suit, throwing himself into his Black Horse, and seeing Kimberly pull out, followed her lead. Dust sprayed up, as Ross shifted from first into second, the sound of Ross's brakes allowing the turbo to spool a little, with a distinctive whine that followed almost immediately after. Pulling a left, Ross saw the other cars take flight, alongside Kimberly's R34 and Joanne's 911, with half a dozen hypercars and insanely hotly tuned cars now putting foot to floor. The Garmin on Ross's dash lit up, as the GPS recieved instruction, and the route came up. This was an interesting route, to say the least. It was around London Docklands, a real mixture it seemed. Someone had done their research. A close call with London City Airport, through the old Docklands, and through Canary Wharf and the Isle of Dogs, a route that was pretty much a sprint race from the site to a location on a suburban fringe, perhaps in Dagenham somewhere. The old Ford factory, to be specific. Classic, at least someone was thinking this through.
"Let's dance, then." Ross said to himself, as he threw the car into third, the car hurtling forward as the sound of the turbo and anti-lag was almost overbearing, very little sound protection inside. The short shift was wonderful, and throwing gears was great, as Ross saw he was towards the rear of the party. A P1, and an Aventador held up the area in front of Ross, as he took a left onto the dual-carriageway A13, the sight of the occasional car making this interesting. Those Hypercars had the edge here, but their drivers weren't as ready to use that, and were twichy on the damp tarmac, while Ross was absolutely pinned here.

Weaving out of another car, he took the exit and passed the Aventador, to a very confused driver, barely letting go of the throttle as he made a hard shift right, passing on a roundabout under the dual carriageway, the wheels barely getting sideways as Ross headed for the P1's rear like a heat seaking missile, the P1 out accelerating but not outgunning Ross on the exit. Turning hard left, for a sign signposted "London City Airport"- the smallest of London's web of airports, Ross saw the approach arise, as well as the sight of cops get exceptionally shocked as they headed through the tunnel that passed under a DLR route, or the light railway system around the Docklands of London. Turning hard right, he passed the P1 with a well executed four wheel drift, the P1 trying to close him down but to no avail. Now, there were at least half a dozen cars left to close in on, but Ross knew he had this. The sound of distant police said it all. They were going hell for leather, and Ross indeed was not letting go. Going onto the other side of the road to avoid a HGV, he noticed where the GPS was going to take them.
"How you fucking did this, I don't care, I don't know, but this will be fun to explain to the fucking police..." Ross added, as he hit the handbrake, a beautifully executed drift turn throwing Ross around the 120 degree bend, and into sight of the rest of the cars, as he realized what this was. This was a Cargo Entrance to the Airport, not a dart around the drop off areas. They were entering the runways.

Ross could only guess that this was something that would lead to having more than just his licence taken, and more than just a little prison time, as well as his garage of cars probably impounded. More likely, it could be far, far worse. Speeding through the gate, Ross turned hard through a set of containers, as a set of cones marked a route through the boxes and crates on this side of the runway, the GPS having one single marking towards the western edge of the runway, where another exit was marked off. This was insane. How the fuck they were doing this, he didn't know, but he knew it wasn't going to be a case of getting on that runway. If a plane came in, they'd be dead, the backblast and the risk to those people on board too. So he stayed in the taxiing area for cargo flights on the southern side of this runway, where they had entered, and he could tell the rest of the cars were too. Distant police sirens were getting closer, and even a slight buzz of a helicopter could be heard. Now this was a street race done properly. Foot to floor, he turned hard, passing by a pair of luggage carts, aware that the P1 was tailing him. It ran straight past, and thundered off, before braking hard, the driver suddenly spinning out as he came up to the checkpoint, unable to control the incredibly powerful hypercar and take it through the exit gate. Ross chuckled, speeding past, catching air on an exit ramp off the concrete runway, a couple of sparks flying from his low-down rear splitter. It hurt, but Ross didn't give a shit now. They were racing, and things happened that could be fixed.

Out of the airport, dozens of police cars could be seen, as Ross weaved past a couple of forklifts and HGVs by a few warehouses on this side of the airport's cargo and logistical nerve centre, exiting through the final gate as he finally caught sight of a C7 ahead. The V8 roared in that Chevy, but Ross knew the driver was holding it now on pure speed and tyre smoke alone. Not great, because Ross knew he would pass him, and pass him good. Shifting down, through a mini-roundabout Ross didn't even need to let go of the throttle for very long to be right back on it, a tiny tail kick from the Subaru allowing him to catch his tail very easily, the sight of a massive backfire and flame from the Subaru's exaust as he exited the corner saying it all. This car may have not had the power of some of it's peers, but in it's delivery, it was vicious. It felt like a Go Cart, with the tyres almost glued and pinned when he took it through corners, drifts either incredibly scary and near impossible to recover or simply a joy to execute depending on the angle of attack. In the case of the latter, it was whenever Ross had too much speed through a corner, and rather than under-steering, this car was primed to simply stick the rear down and give a little leniency on the tighter stuff.

Watching ahead, Ross saw the checkpoints on the GPS wind through the new housing that had been built here, taking a left through a couple of smaller roads, winding and weaving through parked cars and cars, cutting red lights as Ross shifted down to take a 90 degree bend. The C7 took it wide, and Ross capitalized, taking him on the outside, the C7 futile in trying to cut him off, as Ross saw Kimberly and Joanne ahead try to take on the pack leaders. This was turning out to be a race and a half, and the police were having trouble catching them. It seemed the route was clever- it kept the cops on their toes, and really intercepting where they would go next was proving exceptionally difficult- there were so many roads and numbers that the police were having a very diffiult time on their hands- interceptor vehicles wouldn't even catch them, such as the Met's own Subaru WRX STIs and EVO IXes. Ross had seen the car hit 170 on the taxiway, and through these roads, was averaging almost 90, often exceeding that on roads a few car widths wide, parked cars and traffic about. This was called lunacy at it's finest, but this was the street racing scene at it's perfection.

Sierra Vanguard (Espionage RP)

Martin looked closely at the team, nodding with a certain approval of what had been said. It was a mutually agreeable thing, that this was how it worked. It was a smooth atmosphere, but he knew that if there was work that had to be done anytime soon, then even in his state, Martin could get the team to work. Performing while drunk was a whole different approach to operating, but sometimes, it had to be done. Just reminding yourself at all times, no matter how shitfaced you were, of what your endgame was, was how you got through it, and the rest sort of somehow fell into place, especially if you weren't an essential asset. Martin had never passed two whiskey or vodka shots, when it came to dealing with operative issues- though for a day like today, he was prepared to drink a little more.

Looking across as Cassie, and then back at Drevan, he chuckled.
"Let it trend. It's not like we have any identifiable source of where it came from. And it's always a good laugh to see my boss wonder how on earth it even made YouTube. Virtually no suspicion of you know, the real perps." He added, a soft chuckle joining it as he drunk a little more of his vodka, putting it back down once again as he nodded, Thom drinking a little of his vodka shot, Martin checking the time once again.
"To be short, he's been dealt with. Which is good, because the paperwork is off my desk, it's been all filed on my end. Nothing too violent in the way you extracted him, even the Pakistanis aren't angry. Which is great, because they're likely to shit themselves at the worst of things. That was why I asked for you not to go guns blazing on this one." He simply stated, as Thom looked over, somewhat agreeably, but interrogative.
"Couldn't you just delegate it back to HR?"

"Human Resources has it's limits, that fucker might be a goldmine as an intel resource but he isn't fucking human. I draw the line when you start cutting people's heads off. It's too sensitive, so I had to do it. In this fucking line of work, I swear we could do with PAs." Martin simply replied sharply, chuckling as he saw Thom have something hit his chain of thought.
"What, temps with big tits? George would be too busy fucking them anyway to help us out."
"Precisely. Your charm has no boundaries George to be perfectly honest with you; shagging that Princess in Monaco was fucking impressive though, all so we could go on with that work down there in dealing with that criminal ring. We aren't having a repeat of a small pornographic empire that Drevan created from sex tapes on hacked hard drives either, especially not with PAs of that kind. No matter how good it was at the time, we aren't going through that explanation again." Martin said, chucking, just reminiscing in his head about past times.
"Anyway- we could just get male ones instead to stop that from...well, distracting us, but they'd shit themselves every time they saw our lovely Cassie here. But Cassie is again, out of their league. Probably would half kill them before they tried. We don't need to speak about Prague again. Even I felt sorry for that guy that Cassie dealt with." Martin replied, shaking his head.
"Here's to temps with big tits and four kids." Thom said jokingly to break the conversation up, as he raised his glass, as even Martin didn't put his glass up. Shrugging, Thom downed the rest of the shot, as Martin took the expensive bottle back into his hands. Unscrewing the lid, he refilled everyone's measures, up to a double standard, before placing it back on the wooden table.

"Yeah. Well, regardless. We need our heads in the game again. We're going to have work to do soon. Lot more juicy work that they will want us to follow up on. Will keep us busy." Martin continued the flow of the convorsation, as he sipped his vodka a little, Thom also joining him in having a short swig of the spirit, Martin looking at the team once more.
"And no doubt, there are people of a certain nature that I'm sure are going to have very bright futures, once our mutual friends spills what he knows."

Task Force Lima (COMPLETED)

Redited for the last time. I really think I have made it what I wanted to make it, and I have even left Skyth some breathing room if you want to do the unthinkable (if you see it, and want to do it, I will not stop you). That is completely and utterly optional.

Task Force Lima (COMPLETED)

Done. It was the conclusion for that scenario I think I wanted, but even when I was writing it, I wasn't entirely expecting. There is a tiny bit left to do- and it will wrap up the end of Jan's story, as well as giving you all the opportunity to do so.