FourtyTwo

Game of Thrones: The Long Night

Tyrells are a WIP, Garland is possibly an important figure to whoever is controlling Dayne and Peake- I really can't project his character the best in the CS, but he's a Greatest Hits album when it comes to Tyrells (who I envision as the most fairy-tale of the Houses from the surface at least). His character is definitely one that will be interesting to see the development of, particularly his maturity.

Game of Thrones: The Long Night

House Tyrell

Green or Black: Green (Minor Support, officially Neutral)
Recent History:

House Tyrell is a house of upstart stewards, to some of those you might ask in The Reach. This is precisely why uprisings and minor revolts have occurred recently, from both Black and Green sides against the Tyrell lordship. Some say the Gardeners should be brought back, even if they would refuse to bend the knee to the Targaryens. Others would simply disagree- they would argue that this is a Great House founded on chivalry and honor, a House that serves as the breadbasket to the Iron Throne and it's primary military strength in times of war. The Tyrells are the House that have maintained peace and the beautiful landscape of The Reach, from it's rivers and bountiful fields, from being ravaged by the processes of war. Either interpretation leaves the conclusion simple- they are exceptionally lucky, compared to the rest of Westeros.

The Tyrells are the Wardens of the South, defending the southern frontier of the Seven Kingdoms against occasional Dornish squabbles, though their impressive military might is not often used. The sheer size of The Reach, as the second largest kingdom of the Seven, means that whilst it can be difficult to muster troops to rally in any given direction, the possibility of being able to call 80,000 bannermen is not one that is underestimated by any of the family. Garland and Alerie remain both unmarried, the end of the war perhaps marking a perfect opportunity to make new bonds, and with the latter particularly lusted for by many a Reachman of any nobility. Alestair Tyrell serves as a representative of The Reach in King's Landing, and has done so for the last five years, even in the midst of the worst of the civil war, as a port of call for the Tyrells to the Capital.

The lands of The Reach have always remained beautiful, from any observer's eyes. From the coast to the Dornish Marches and the greenery between, it is easy to understand why this region is blessed, both with more than ample food security and a chivalric background. Where the days go by, and the flowered and wheat filled fields, with the gently meandering rivers and white castles that remind the people of The Reach that it is good to have the Tyrells in power, when the rest of the Kingdom is worrying about starving to death and being invaded. No such thing will happen this Autumn, not in The Reach. The men, women and children of The Reach are lucky in that regard, the distant throes of war are gone. However, much is still unstable, and the current line of Tyrell has been shaken up by recent events.

The death of the infant Lord Lyonel Tyrell due to disease left the responsibility of running The Reach to Garland Tyrell, his cousin- and who most would agree was far more capable of rule than a mere child. The lack of siblings that Lyonel had meant that the line passed over to Garland; and meant that Garland was the new Lord Paramount of The Reach, with the chance to bring about a new order of things. Whilst Garland was perhaps not the most experienced or wisest of all rulers now in the Seven Kingdoms, he was able to find legitimacy in his own people at his young age, and able to get to work on making sure his vassals did not get any ideas of their own expansion. Inexperienced, yes, talented, indeed.

Quickly asserting his rule, the unmarried Garland found the Reach in an unstable state- the aftermath of the war left Minor Houses on Black and Green sides, and the end of the war led to uprisings and demands to "Depose the Traitor Lord"- for the Tyrells lack of support for either side throughout the war, and the lack of any allegiance to the newly crowned King. It had been for good reason, however- The Reach has not officially fought in the war, and whilst allegedly providing support in weapons to Houses Dayne and Peake, it has not been exactly affected in the rest of the conflict. While Garland has been swift to pledge his side to Aegon III, it is the hope that The Reach's neutrality will not have had a long-term impact on their influence in the Seven Kingdoms, and that he can earn his favor back, by whichever means he needs to do.

Family Members:

Gregor Tyrell, Former Lord Paramount of The Reach, deceased (55)
Lyanna Tyrell, Former Lady Regent of The Reach, 44
-Lyonel Tyrell, Former Lord Paramount of The Reach, deceased (4)

Moryn Tyrell, Gregor's second youngest brother, deceased (50)
--Garland Tyrell, Lord Paramount of The Reach (21)
-Alerie Tyrell (17)
-Rickard Tyrell (15)

Willas Tyrell, Gregor's youngest brother, deceased (49)
-Alestair Tyrell, Representative of House Tyrell (30)

Lord Garland Tyrell

Name: Lord Garland "The Young Rose" Tyrell
Age: 21
Appearance and Personality:

Garland

Garland appears to have the traits of most Tyrells, very well kept long brown hair, and a swordsman's physique, being perhaps as strong as a Lord ought to be when it comes to wielding a weapon- a foe to fear, with tourneys and his prior experience giving him plenty of experience for his young age, and the appropriate strength that comes with it. A couple of scars from conflicts past still lie on his left shoulder, though it is difficult to immediately spot. Garland stands at 6"2, with hazel colored eyes, a short and striking beard that wraps around his chin, and a healthy complexion, his face neither too lean nor fat. By most standards, he is regarded as amongst the most beautiful men in The Reach, and he has found that it has been more than enough to attract women across the court, with fairly expected effects. At 21, he's had several bastards, the mothers of whom haven't even returned to Garland regarding it, which speaks volumes about Garland's charming nature- they seem humbled to have had a tumble with the Lord. His good looks are striking, and it doesn't seem to be just due to his young age, rather a permanent trait- he seems elegant, charming, a man who looks perfect to represent the Reach's chivalric heart, the Young Rose having a silhouette of a man, at least in The Reach, of something the Seven would want to create.

Beyond his looks, Garland is a quick figure, perhaps the luck of the draw giving him the ability to do well at getting down to the buisness of being Lord Paramount. This quickness perhaps allows him to continue the typical Tyrell traits that can be observed in many members of the family, particularly on the male side- being astute, gregarious and chivalrous, having a high sense of honor and a high regard to family. He has courage and while not addicted to violence, is happy to get stuck into a fight. As a commander, he serves well, being able to make reasonable tactical decisions on both his theoretical knowledge and his previous experiences, though he is no legendary figure on the battlefield, not yet at least. On the surface, appears to be kind and charitable, a good hearted fellow- though it seems that the last two years have hardened his resolve and made him a little cynical towards some topics. While he is impaired by being still a recent ruler in The Reach, and significantly younger than most of his fellow Lords Paramount, he does not overestimate or underestimate his position. He still has much to learn about the true horrors of politics in King's Landing, yet seems able to comprehend how to present his image, being smart enough to know when to lie and when to be honest. He still does need to improve his skills in general rulership, however, and to drop his parts of his provincial nature, that of a lower character than a Lord. Whilst he is no Spider when it comes to plotting, if it allows himself and everyone in his family to benefit, he will plot against those external threats that seek to damage the The Reach, leaving this business often to his sister, Alerie, in order to protect his own reputation. Ultimately, it is the only chink in his otherwise Knightly-approach to the world.

On the field of combat, Garland can be seen wearing a Reach-produced suit of plate armor- the designs from this part of the world always raising eyebrows in other parts of the Kingdom, as a result of the many curves and details that they entail, clearly being a highly-strewn piece of work- roses and flowers intricately scratched into the armor, making distinct ridges that seem to fully validate Garland as a Lord Paramount of The Reach. While the metalworkers of the Reach are not renowned in the Kingdoms, the artistic flair and beauty of such armor is distinctly eyecatching for members of the Tyrell family, being exceptionally expensive. He usually wields a longsword, paired with a wooden shield, fighting in the traditional Westerosi fashion. Training puts him a league above most Hedge Knights- though being the head of the House means he has little time to rehearse as he once could. Off the tourney field or battlefield, he can be seen wearing a expensive white and green tunic, suitable for the fairly temperate to semi-arid climate of the Reach, being usually more than enough, if not a more suitable garb for colder climes.

Biography:

An unlikely Lord Paramount, but one that seemingly got lucky. The Reach find Garland a man of chivalry and binding servitude to his family, being generally lusted for by Reachwomen of all types, though without the benefit of a long serving ruler's wisdom.

Garland was born in Highgarden to Moryn Tyrell, the brother to the then Lord Paramount of The Reach, Gregor Tyrell, and received an education that would only befit a child in a position such as himself. Whilst he was only a mere Nephew of the current Lord, he was taught by both maesters and a tutor, in methods of swordsmanship and learning. It was a typical education for Tyrell, it seemed- and Garland was acknowledged as being a quick lad, definitely of use to the family in one way or another. He had no idea of what his future held- he had considered becoming a man of the Kingsguard, but swiftly rejected this after he found himself perhaps too attached to female admirers, leaving a small trail of bastards in his wake at festivities held in Highgarden. Instead, he was offered the chance to work within the Court in Highgarden, assisting with the administration of the Reach, and from the age of 16 onwards, was actively involved in the inner workings of running a Lordship. Fighting was still his talent, but he found it was not something he could do as often, not before the beginnings of the Dance of Dragons at least. He was not one concerned with numbers, he was merely concerned with making sure that the Kingdom's men and vassal houses kept the knee bent towards the family of the gold rose, almost acting in a diplomatic sense to maintain The Reach's power.

Garland did not fight in the Dance of Dragons directly, having to run the Lordship where the Lady Regent could not, and deal with external threats outside of the scope of the war- most prominently, the consistent Dornish raids in the south of the Kingdom, where Garland fought on numerous occasions in the hilly regions beyond the Dornish Marches, and on more than one occasion, defending against incursions from the Iron Islander raids, whenever they dared head further south than the rich ports of Lannisport and the other towns of the Westerlands. It was a well balanced approach, and whilst there was no promise of land at the end of it all, he served the infant Lyonel Tyrell without question, both acting as a Commander and Chancellor throughout this period. Things did however, begin to change- both negatively and positively for Garland.

Death struck quickly within the Tyrells as the war began to approach it's apex, and Moryn, his father died when Garland was only 18, killed by infection following maiming from a Dornish spear. He felt terrified, yet this event itself was not the worst event that could occur in the family, with only a few months later the infant Lord Paramount of the Reach passing away from illness. It was that terror and anxiety that had to be cleared almost immediately if Garland was to take on his new responsibility.

The death of Lyonel meant that succession in the Tyrell branch had to continue one way or another, and what seemed like an imminent power struggle between himself and the Lady Regent, Lyanna Tyrell, never occurred, as Garland immediately returned to Highgarden with a contingent of Hightower men to keep the peace for his Lordship. This meant that the 19-year old was now the new Lord Paramount, placed into a position of power of the expanse of The Reach. It felt strange, and whilst many thought that he would crack under the pressure, Garland adopted well to being the Warden of the South. The remaining years of the war left little to no impact on The Reach's agricultural power, if anything, increasing demand from the North and other war-ravaged parts of the Kingdom for grain. Garland was not taught that he would become the Lord Paramount, rather he would be merely some lower-down Commander and perhaps at best, a representative for the family in King's Landing. Yet his practical experiences sent a clear message, that he could maintain the status quo of The Reach, run it as his predecessors had. That they were Growing Strong. He was named "The Young Rose" for his increasing determination to keep The Reach together in the face of these minor squabbles and issues, and was adept at holding together the fabric of the agricultural lands of The Reach.

Within the scope of the Kingdom, Garland now rules from Highgarden, with his list of enemies and dissidents decreasing by the day. Most do not even need to be put to the sword, as they merely bend the knee once more, as soon as they understand what this world now entails. War does not fill the Seven Kingdoms, and whilst Garland understands that the grain shall be great, it is what next that shall cement the Tyrells in a position to be called the Kingmakers. The Tyrells are not in a position of being ultimately undermined on all sides, as some Houses have faced, and will continue on strong, from his personal opinion. After all, Garland was taught that the Seven Kingdoms call on the Tyrells when they go to war, and call on them for food. It is a position to obtain great levels of power, and whilst Garland understands he is loyal to the Targaryen King, Aegon, he is in a position to put himself closer into the throes of power, if he plays his cards correctly.

Apart from rulership, of which Garland has been forced to employ several advisers from vassal houses to assist in dealing with wider-spread law making and justice, Garland concerns himself with the business of diplomacy and Chancellory, leaving the number crunching to Maesters, but being able to manage the day-to-day diplomatic running of the kingdom with his vassals that serve under his name more personally than most Lords- envisioning himself as a Lord who rules as a natural right in The Reach, yet providing a stake to those who serve well. His gregarious nature means that he enjoys throwing lavish Fairs, with the Harvest seeing one in the planning stages already, for another good yield- and at these fairs, all manner of debauchery and actions can occur. Garland is also interested by Falconry, being another hobby that he enjoys partaking in. He is still unmarried, something that he is currently also interested into- and perhaps a continuation of his quest to continue to cement The Reach's influence in the Seven Kingdoms.

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Alerie Tyrell

Name: Alerie Tyrell
Age: 17
Appearance:

Alerie

Standing at 5"6, with a thin and short, yet well developed frame, Alerie is visibly beautiful, her youth still running strong and making this occur. With a moderate bust, and hazel eyes, she clearly has caught the attention of more than just one Reach Knight, though she has not yet found a suitable man to wed, one that would increase the family's already formidable connections. Alerie happens to have a burgundy-red hair, something that seems a little unexplained- given the family's strong trend towards passing down the dark brown hair throughout the family's offspring. None the less, Alerie still holds a wonderful physique, and makes no mistake in showing it off.

Alerie's personality is sharp, thorny and most definitely a darker side to the chivalric touches that House Tyrell has- though you won't see it immediately, because her appearance and outlook towards others in public is highly controlled. She is as quick as her brother, if not more intelligent, and she can often subtly watch others' deceptions, wittingly putting up her own where she pleases without barely even blinking. Her knowledge of what assets she has, both in her beauty and of scheming compensate for her lack of wisdom and life experiences; she has already learned through her young years that men will do anything for a woman like her, and as such, beyond this far more can be done. She has the utmost respect for Garland, but understands that sometimes more dastardly approaches must be taken to make the family's power echo- being tutored by the Lady Regent making this idea stick in her mind. She still has a lot to learn, however- and understands that she must prepare to scale up her already existing thorns in her personality, in preparation for the poltical pressures to come in King's Landing. She seems openly charitable, being very careful regarding her image towards her peers, almost being a master of presenting herself correctly. Whilst her gregarious and otherwise positive and glowing demeanor can make but the coldest of hearts feel at home, being famed for her warm and good nature, below this facade a calculating and sophisticated mind is at work, for her young age proving clearly her ambitions.

She can often be seen wearing a dark green and gold dress, embroidered with golden roses across it's surface- a fortune to pay for, as a result of it's intricate dressmaking and the expensive dyes used, being suitably revealing at the bust but not uncomfortable- giving her a charming image when at court. The ante is increased, as at a fair, she may wear an even more expensive garb, with corsets and eloquent golden and green dresses coming out for the show; a reminder that even at 17, she has an aware knowledge of her need to impress, acting as the Vanguard of the most exuberantly dressed women in The Reach. Her aurora seems to be well projected when she is in a room, because no matter how silly some Northmen or Ironborn may consider it, it turns heads.

Biography and Personality:

There's always something about the women in the Tyrell family. A sharp wit, and an even sharper appearance, little can be denied about the fact that the Seven look kindly upon them in this family.

Born in Highgarden, Alerie is the second oldest sibling currently in the family, born to Moryn and Elinor Tyrell. She was the second of the second, so to speak, but as her brother was educated, so she was too. She was taught how to be a lady in the court, and was given tutors and also teaching from the then Lady Lyanna Tyrell, learning the way of the world. She was taught particularly well by Lyanna how to lie and how to present herself, being a beautiful girl and uncannily good at concealing the truth, something that Lyanna was indeed very impressed by. The years rolled by, and the death of Gregor Tyrell meant that Alerie was suddenly faced with a new reality- that of her grandmother being around less in order to act as Lady Regent to Lyonel Tyrell, leaving Alerie more to her own devices. This she did, and outside of playing the harp and horse riding around the wooded estates surrounding the banks of the Mander, she embarked on learning the ins and outs of the local politics, often spying on the other ladies of the court and the debauchery they got up to.

The ascent of Garland Tyrell meant she followed him in power, now as the Lord Paramount's sister which has resulted in the last couple of years of her tutorship being created a little different to what she had before. She has been tutored in ways that perhaps indicate a higher calling, one that in the coming months, may lead to Alerie helping the family climb the slipper ladder in the Seven Kingdoms by a different mean than just a mere council position. She has been taught far more on how to be the woman of the House, and to act as the thornier Rose in comparison to Garland, to continue to impress at fairs and banquets, and play the part in making sure the family stays in power.

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Rickard Tyrell

Name: Rickard Tyrell
Age: 14
Appearance:

Rickard stands at about 5"0, a short lad, not expected to grow significantly more than this, with his weak disposition resulting in this trait. He has the brown hair of the family, having it kept far shorter than Garland- his brown eyes and well placed facial features suggesting that this is a lad that is definitely a Tyrell. That said, as a result of his weak nature, he is unable to walk for prolonged periods of time, using a cane to move around, and cannot do any menial physical task of any kind.

Rickard is quite shy, quiet to say the least, compared to his very gregarious and courageous brethren. He seems to have a clear indication of what he wants to say, being very mature and knowledgeable for his age- he has almost a cynical trait, always finding out things, always seeming to apply his knowledge. He seems bright, but not in a way that would perhaps apply a more practical edge to things, such as Garland or Alerie's more practical or charming natures.

Biography:

Rickard is Moryn and Elinor Tyrell's third and youngest son, a son that proved to break the charm of good luck that had been seen in Garland and Alerie, as a crippled boy. He was expected to die following his birth, but survived, due to some sort of miracle from the Seven, perhaps something else that kept him alive in his frail state. Whatever reason, he was weak in disposition, and has to use a cane to walk, his spine and general body being significantly weaker than most. Whilst able to move, he seems to lack an energy of boys of his type, being just unable to do much good. This left him in a strange position- the third born was never a son of any high relevance, not him. He was never brought up as lavishly as Garland and Alerie, though he was provided with a tutor and books, to educate himself on the world. This was something that Rickard took to strongly, and seemed to be the best solution for his predicament.

Learning and book reading was Rickard's passion, from epic poems of previous Targaryen conquests to those dating back beyond into the rule of the Gardeners, on the life and times of the peoples of The Reach. History, classic literature, whatever Rickard could get his hands on, he read. Rather than a formidable set of swordsmanship skills or political shrewdness, Rickard appears to be more of a scholar. He seems to have a similar quickness to his brother and sister, albeit not in the same way.

Rickard is still a young lad, and is expected to become a Maester, though Garland and Alerie, his older guardians, still have doubts about his physical capabilities to fulfill this end. In this regard, he is the Tyrell that some of the family would not mention, though Garland loves him as his only brother, and only wants the best for him- knowing that he would serve the family best in Oldtown, safe and away from the problems to come.

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Alestair Tyrell

Name: Alestair Tyrell
Age: 30
Appearance:

Alestair

Alestair is a moderately well built man, able to swing a sword but unable to fight like Garland or his father, the Willas Tyrell that was renowned as a commander in the service of the Tyrell family. With similarly well kept brown hair and hazel eyes, Alestair bears many similarities to Garland, though he clearly has more age in his appearances, both due to stress and being nine years older than the current Lord Paramount of The Reach. He maintains a short beard, and his voice is a distinctly deep and clear one, perfect for addressing a group of people.

Alestair is a difficult individual to understand easily from first glance- he is talented at diplomacy and a good man for presenting facts and figures, though his paranoia gets the best of him at times, an underlying trait of watching his back that King's Landing has forced him to take up. He is an honest man in a den of snakes, though he can sometimes bend the truth to make it seem far more comfortable to his peers, seeing it not as as outright lying but distorting the reality of the work. He is clearly adept at keeping his head firmly on his shoulders- so perhaps it can be justified, though sometimes, he is paranoid at individuals who are clearly not threats to his living. This said, Alestair is able to still portray a surface of trust, and is clearly correctly aligned for political work in King's Landing, not having too little ambition nor too much. He seems to not rely on a network of spies, but on his wits and political outmaneuvering, making sure that he always leaves the table with the best deal.

Due to his work inside King's Landing, he can usually be seen dressed in a leather jerkin and a tunic, adjusting himself a little more towards the climate of the capital.

Biography:

Alestair is Garland's cousin, to the Gregor and Moryn, born to the third brother, Willas Tyrell. He is the oldest child in the whole family, but due to his thirdborn status, as well as preferential status to the Moryn line, he lower on the current line of succession- something he is content with, due to the lack of rulership he himself has in the field of The Reach.

Born in Highgarden, the only son of Willas and the first child born to any of the Tyrell siblings (before Garland, even), Alestair was a boy brought up to understand the ins and outs of politics, the fickle game that it appeared that the Tyrells were playing, and he was particularly good at talking to people, making connections. His tutoring was normal- but he didn't have the same strength as his father- Willas being disappointed that his son was not an adept commander, but a talker. This disconnect existed until Willas died

Sent to King's Landing, he arrived before the beginning of the Dance of Dragons, and despite the sheer level of bloodshed that occurred, Alestair managed to keep his head, working as a neutral adviser to the fragmented Green council. It was more luck than anything else that made sure that he was able to achieve- his loose association with the Green Council following the Fall of King's Landing seeing his arrest, followed by subsequent release due to a lack of evidence that connected the Tyrell to any of the council's activies.

In short, he yielded, Rhaenyra an individual that Alestair could already foresee would have to in turn give into the realities of King's Landing. The Riots, followed by the deaths of Rhaenyra's dragons created an air of instability that made Alestair paranoid, watching his back for people that would happily murder him for whatever shadow lurked in the dark. It worked- but not at the cost of Alestair's long term approach to living in King's Landing.

The end of the war saw normality return, whatever that normality could ever be. The conflict may have been over, but in King's Landing, Alestair still had work to do. Aegon III now sits on the throne, and Alestair in more recent history, has found that he has to be swift in renegotiating the position that the Tyrells hold in the Seven Kingdoms, now finding himself in a place where he could even become influential to the young King and his frail and disrupted Seven Kingdoms...though of course, there are always other forces at play, and Alestair understands that as with all political affairs, some do not wish for this course of action to occur.

A married man (marrying prior to the Dance of Dragons), he still has his obligations to the Crown, and in the aftermath of the civil war, knows that he has to play his part, much like the rest of his family- to hold the Seven Kingdoms together, Aegon III will need more than just internal support to make things work, his experienced nature yet the broader Tyrell neutrality proving to go at loggerheads in Alestair's role in King's Landing.

WIP

State of Siege

The Embassy of the United States, Valverde
1015

The Ambassador looked around, looking across at Lewis, the Marine clearly with a certain look on his face. The MSG was spread out, and on guard, clearly anticipating something. That something was the arrival of Presidente Ochoa, and both Lewis and Elizabeth knew the stakes here. Things would get very nasty, very quickly, if things were not sorted out properly. Hence why right here, Elizabeth had wanted to talk to Lewis, one on one, in her office. The windows were barricaded up, and only a tiny slit existed, barely letting a fraction of light into the beautiful room. Lewis wore his BDU, and had his Mk18 slung over his chest rig, Elizabeth wearing her vest and perhaps less-ambassadorial clothing. Things had gotten to a melting point in here, and that was without the sight of artillery now dropping into here.

Elizabeth sat up a little, breaking the silence.
"Well, Commander, it has come to this. Ochoa is coming over. You are to respect his presence and work with his security team in defending this embassy, that order is clear. But I want you to understand that we still have American citizens still taking shelter."
"I counted at least 15, every one of them civilian, Ambassador. Plus we've got two Canadians, at least three Australians and a German national here. It's a lot of people that we have to take care of. There's about half a dozen embassy staff, whoever chose to stay. They did a good job getting whoever we could out." Lewis simply replied, coughing a little as he cleared his throat.
"Agreed. So, brief me once more, you have prepared a defensive? These windows look tough." Elizabeth said, chuckling, looking out of the slit, before sitting back down in her chair, the Ambassador knowing that the metal reinforced windows were not enough in their own right, something Lewis looked to agree on.

"It won't be much if they bring heavy weaponry or artillery, but it keeps snipers from seeing into our every move. I have 28 men, excluding myself, on defensive. Armed with everything from M16s to M4s, a couple of marksman rifles and two M249s, some very light Anti-Tank weaponry. Ambassador, in a nutshell, we have quality but no number. We can't hold an army, but whatever you're planning, we can hold long enough. I promise that."
"Well, it better be good enough with what Ochoa is bringing. He has his own guard, plus his UN protection. You will be friendly with them. It will give me enough time to pursue the diplomatic channels that we need to break open, and save this country. Ochoa isn't falling from power today, and his men will assist you."
"Ambassador, if I may...they're mercenaries and thugs. The Estonians are great men, but they're only Blue Helmets. The people Ochoa surrounds himself with are liabilities.."
"I understand your concerns, Commander. But times are tough, and as you say, you can't hold an army. Let us be frank, 28 men against several thousand is not the best odd in the world. So if you can, make them the force that CAN hold an Army, Commander. You are the Commander of the Guard here, and they'll follow you, I shall tell Ochoa to make damn certain that they do, no matter who they are." She said, exhaling, looking over at Lewis once more.
"We haven't got much time, you should prepare for Ochoa's arrival. As should I, he's going to be shaken up when he sees me."

"Circumstances mean we have to go on, Ambassador. You look good." Lewis said, as he stood up, escorting Elizabeth towards the door, headed out back down to the lobby. The corridors were dark, the electricity out, and all in heaps of mess- paperwork was lying about, and it felt disorganized, trashed already, though no fighting had broken out. It had been a rush to get the most risky paperwork away from here, and now, they had to do something to protect the rest. Elizabeth turned her head, the blonde haired woman looking across at the grizzled Marine.

"Thank you for the compliment, but I fear it won't do me any good when I have to explain to Ochoa why I'm wearing a vest already, and am somehow still here to help him. Poor fellow, I do feel for him, having the country he loved torn from him. If Margret Thatcher was in my position, she would have done the same, done anything to help a bastion of some sort of Democracy. No U Turns, a Lady of Iron. Looks do not matter to me Commander, action does. Tell me, do you like Thatcher, Commander? Be honest, Lewis." She asked, perhaps her mind diverted from the frame of topic right now, as Lewis at first struggled to answer the question, leading the way down the corridor as they turned right, heading towards the lobby.

"A great woman, truly uncompromising in her ways. But she fell down on that too. I don't know politics, Ambassador. That is your task, not mine I'm afraid. We won't let harm come to you or anyone taking refuge here." Lewis simply replied, just giving a straight answer, and a straighter assertion, one that he somehow hoped he could still do, despite the mercenaries and various UN forces that would add to fuck it all up.

The MSG was spread through this building, all equipped fairly similarly to the First Sergeant, in MARPAT Woodland and armed with a variety of rifles and other weaponry, equipped for fighting a war on a limited scale, a defensive one at the very least. They were Marines, and Lewis knew that Marines did what Marines did. They didn't let go of embassies, and somehow, it was a nice fact to cling to, even if he knew realistically it would take something short of a miracle and or air strikes to repel any enemy advance, which was looking impossible in either case. Elizabeth had held hope, Lewis had seen, but the Ambassador perhaps ultimately knew that gett. In the lobby, a set up had already been made, of metal tables that were on the stairs, offering little to no cover for those entering the building and a suppressing point to fire down into it. It was a kill zone, no less, and Lewis knew that it was features such as these that would hold the line. Moving ahead of the Ambassador, he looked across to two men setting up a barricade at the top of the other arch, nodding as he yelled across.

"Sanderson, Bingham, get the bags up onto the balcony, get a couple of 249 boxes there and make it a nest! Harris, you got the wire up yet?" He yelled across, as Sanderson, a Marine armed with an M249, gave a simple "Aye, Aye" and followed his collegue, as Lewis looked back across at the rest of the lobby.
"We got the rest of the razor wire up at the rear entrances, Commander. It's not perfect, but it's going to take hell to take apart." He replied, the Corporal walking over, as Lewis stepped off the stairs, looking across to the two men, a little out of breath but still raring to go.
"Come with me, bring CPL Collins. We're doing front security, Ochoa's convoy is arriving. Phillips and Adams can pull back from the front gate as soon as our VIPs are in, it's hustle time once they are here, every fucking rebel on this face of the country will want to be here. Let's go." Lewis spoke with an authoritative, platonic voice, knowing this was how you addressed soldiers, even if it was in front of the Ambassador. She seemed hardly fazed, aware that perhaps normal diplomatic protocol broke down here, that you couldn't operate normally as you would. Things were different now, and the lobby even felt like it, despite being the marveling front entrance of an American embassy. The marble floor was covered in dust already as the team moved to the front, Lewis looking back towards Elizabeth, the ambassador clearly having some sort of mad resolve to hold this line. She had faith in Lewis, that much was visible, and Lewis had faith in her. It seemed mutual that in a situation like this, she could tell him honestly what was going to happen, and he could somehow improvise how it would. She seemed out of place, but Lewis knew that somehow, they'd figure this one out. Him and his team would make sure no harm came to this place.

----

1020

Out the front of the embassy, the cars pulled in, the guards that Lewis commanded letting the convoy through, the white UN lorry and the black Lincoln pulling in front of the Embassy's gleaming structure, as Lewis headed out, looking across at the men that were now clambering out. The Lincoln's doors opened, as Lewis stood in front of Elizabeth, looking on as the door opened. Lewis stepped slightly aside, looking across. At least six of his contingent were down here, the Main Gate abandoned but covered by a couple of his Marines on the roof, who swept the way that Ochoa and his contingent had taken in. The rest were still on either patrol or observation, posted up across various sight lines of the building.
"Augustin, it is good to see you, my dear." She said, smiling at him, the whole paradoxical nature of this situation clear to Lewis. Elizabeth had met him several times before, Lewis accompanying, and the man never seemed to lose his touch, though on today, that didn't seem the same. He was most definitely stressed, but somehow unaware of how royally fucked his regime was. Lewis could only guess that Elizabeth and him seemed to have connections that worked mutually, both in a diplomatic and personal sense. The rest of his men emerged, and he could see the Estonian detail clambering out of the truck, Lewis uncomfortable and ill about all of this. The Presidente was a man of great caliber, Lewis could tell that from afar. But his guards seemed scary, and the man that Lewis had heard much about, Avdeyev, stood closely by with his MP5K, almost eyeballing up Lewis. The Marine could tell that he was not a man to be fucked with, and was a bodyguard with a fairly standard lack of fucks to give about others. The man was intimidating, truly so. The stare was broken by a fairly confident response from Ochoa.

"Likewise, Elizabeth! It is a shame under these circumstances, but we must do what we can. Once this is over, we can enjoy some Champagne together, I am sure of it." He said, shaking hands with Liz while his heavily accented English came out clear. Her soft hand against his, it seemed like a meeting that could have occured in any other circumstance, no less the fact that this was a massive crisis for both parties involved. The Marines moving back from the front gate said it all, that this was no ordinary meeting, the front contingent on the roof covering as the gate was set to shut, the huge steel bars sealing the compound up, closing it off to the world outside. Apart from looking in, it would be difficult to go straight in, unless you happened to have something heavier than a lorry to go though, such was the design of most defenses for US Embassies. The concrete walls, tipped in razor wire, and general construction of the place would give a false sense of security, even Elizabeth prepared to admit that. It would be short-lived, once they brought heavier weaponry to the fight.
"Ambassador, Presidente, I hate to interrupt, but we're gonna have to get inside. We've abandoned the gate and the streets are no longer safe, I give us minutes till the outside becomes completely unsafe..."
"Fine, Commander. Augustin, my Commander is a tad paranoid, don't mind him. We should head to my office, I need to talk to you regardless. Commander, you should introduce yourself to the rest of these men, I am sure that Augustin would be willing to borrow their services to you." She simply asserted, as she headed inside with Ochoa, Lewis looking on as he nodded to two of the Marines out front with him, noting for them to cover the lobby and the men again. A good number of Ochoa's entourage followed, but the UN troops and some of his other questionable men were left behind, as Lewis looked over. He could tell that Elizabeth did not want to disappoint the Presidente, not today.
"Of course, he can have what he wants, but Avdeyev stays with me, as well as a few of the others. They are the best men I could find, all combat trained, lethal killers. We will make those bastards pay! Elizabeth, have you..."
The tailing voice of Ochoa could be heard, as Lewis looked back to the rest, as they unpacked their gear, as varied and mixed as it could get, as they slowly followed behind, Lewis rallying them up in the lobby, as he looked back at the rest of the lot he had.

"I'm First Sergeant Lewis Bastion, Commander of the Marine Security Guard in Valverde. You are now on United States territory, so congratulations, pop your fucking fireworks, you made it to the land of the free. We are not safe, however, and if anything, there is going to be even more heat here than before, so remember that you now have nowhere else to turn but us. So you're gonna follow our rules, being our guests. And the rules are simple, gentlemen. And that is that you don't fuck around with the civvies in there, and with the Ambassador. Steal shit, you think about stealing shit, you find yourself in a bad position, a very bad one. You follow my men, not command them. I hope that is clearly and loudly understood, or else there will be consequences." He simply added, as he headed up the stairs, sizing up the size of the contingent he had. He had interspersed bits of his first introduction in Spanish, making the point clear on "Stealing Shit" and "Bad Position", though he had mostly stuck to English throughout. Lewis knew it was a talent that meant he could do this job in the first place, but figuring out where and when to say certain things to those who didn't understand clear bits of English was a talent that came with this job in particular, to make clear fragments.
"Okay. As far as I know, I got told that Sgt Alvar is the man to speak to regarding the blue helmets (UN), Estonian fella. Which one are you, exactly?" Lewis asked, looking into the small crowd, barely a dozen numbered, at what he could use here.

"We have business to do, your Blue Helmets are going to work with the civvies, and on finishing up our perimeter defensive. You know your men best, so if you have marksmen or anything of specialty, send it where we need it, my Marines can help you in that. As for the rest of you, I assume you're Ochoa's detail, I hope you know how to point and shoot. Collins, Harris, grab four of these men each and reinforce the overlooks. Brief them on our situation, and check weaponry. The point goes most clear for you. Listen to my Corporals, and don't fuck around. Clear?" Lewis simply added, looking out, as he gave a simple nod, not even cracking a smile or a frown, his face cold and point blank in how it asserted what he needed to point out.
"Good. We have work to do then. Sergeant, what have we got outside the perimeter, how fucked are we exactly?"

State of Siege

Coolio. NPC the shit out of Lewis's Marines, Advanced- the influence between them is key, you can do whatever you wish with them.

EDIT: Poly, I'll probably drop control of Ochoa from here, simply because I want to still use Elizabeth in reaction to him, if that makes sense. I wanted to get them in, probably going to her office, with a couple of his detail and all, with the rest now rallying up. There is an awful lot more to be fleshed out about the MSG and so on, but it will slowly happen as we see things ante up. I will probably see my posts get shorter too, changing in their nature.

State of Siege

Poly, I can use Ochoa as an NPC, right?

Sierra Vanguard (Espionage RP)

Anyone gonna post?

Game of Thrones: The Long Night

Would like to take on the Tyrells, Ruby- sent you a PM.

State of Siege

Yep. I'm game.

Burning Rubber (Bee and kingkonrad)

Ross felt the car roar once more, as it lept into fourth, the deep throaty roar of the flat four and the huge turbo that had been attached, with the anti-lag making the rear occasionally sound like a rifle on full auto, this Subaru being a machine that felt more trackday than four wheel tarmac terrorist. That fact alone was enough to send a shiver through his spine, and it was that fear that made him keep going, just utterly in that moment. The roads curved a little, as Ross flew over a bump in the road, the classic rally traits of this car kicking in, as the ground felt hard, a little Carbon possibly knocked up or dented, as Ross felt the stiff car momentarily lose it's solid grip. Turning on a mini-roundabout, swerving past two slow moving cars, Ross was back on the throttle, before taking a left onto a dual carriageway headed towards Canary Wharf, the sight of three cars ahead a looming aspect. He couldn't even tell what had happened to Kimberly, he had literally no idea that she had spun out a minute ago, and that he hadn't even considered the prospect of her following now. None the less, he knew he had to keep going. She was fast enough to outrun the cops, and smart enough to not trash her car. Kimberly wasn't like that, surely? He couldn't think that. All he could do was focus on going 120mph on a road with a limit three times less.

The car whined, as the brakes felt red hot, the Evo IX ahead and clearly holding a steady line. Ross pursued the car, weaving between bollards and parked cars, another 90 degree turn putting him close, as the Evo suddenly overdid the turn, the driver clearly not used to four wheel drifting, or at least keeping a dead level car control running. The car suddenly shuddered, and went off the road, sideways, smashing into a brick wall and going at least 50m through a grassy knoll, Ross recoiling in that fact. He was too in the moment, too focused, his mind in a different place. He had to get down to it. He still had no idea in regards to Kimberly, and the cops were distant, something was ticking in his mind. Something was wrong. The race was not high stakes, but it felt like it had become so in an instant. Maybe he should go back for Kimberly. He couldn't. His mind perhaps slipped for a second too long, as he had to stamp on the brakes, barely clipping the kerb as he turned right, heading into Canada Square, or the area beneath Canary Wharf. The GPS was going this way, the route even more insane. Flooring it, Ross saw the sight of Joanne ahead, and knew that she would acknowledge him.

Turning by a set of trees on the concrete, Ross kept close, not even drifting, just threading the car precisely through the pedestrianized area, turning out back onto the road and back out towards the Docklands. This was insane, the cops had to be about somewhere...Ross just didn't know. The race felt like it had lost it's flavor, like something bad had happened. There didn't feel like this was the right thing to do. Ross still didn't see the Skyline in his mirror, but Joanne was close. They were going back to the warehouse, to that abandoned site, but yet Ross knew that all shit could raise if he made the wrong move. He was sick of it. Back on tarmac, he put his foot to the floor, and tailed Joanne, tapping the car phone at the same time, getting the voice recognition up.
"Call, Kimberly." He simply said, as his phone replied, Ross cursing, just hoping she would pick up. He couldn't even tell, as he skidded around a corner, the Subaru following the 911, Joanne clearly having the top speed but not the handling and acceleration with the rear-engined beast, impossible to drift without bricks in the front of the car to balance the weight distribution out. Well, at least the older ones were, and that was how Ross found he could at least point a single flaw in an otherwise great car. And in particular, the RWB-kitted 911 was no slouch, not in any way. The wet tarmac as they roared back towards Blackwall could only say it all, as Ross looked over at his phone, unsure if it had connected.
"Kimberly, get Joanne on the line...I've got a really bad feeling about this, if you're still there, just follow signs for the O2 Arena or the Blackwall Tunnel. Just trust me, forget whatever pay there is, there are cops massing everywhere." Ross simply added, as he saw a roadblock on the roundabout, handbrake hard on as he did a 180, flipping the car round, the Subaru spraying grit as the Scot was back on the throttle, not even knowing where Joanne was. She must have made it clear, because this blockade was new. Back on the gas, he headed on the wrong side of the road, slamming over a central reservation as he floored it towards the Blackwall Tunnel, heading towards the O2 Arena, or the Millenium Dome as it was previously known, on the other side of the Thames.
"I'm heading out, buggering towards the south."

State of Siege

I am liking this- we could even get it rolling, just the three of us in theory- not too sure how well it would work, but I could see it working out.