We have three slots about for this RP- if anyone is still interested we are still open to applications!
FourtyTwo Member
- Last Seen: 23 min ago
- Old Guild Username: kingkonrad
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
- Posts: 2281 (0.61 / day)
- VMs: 3
-
Username history
- FourtyTwo 3 yrs ago
- ██████████ 10 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Lucid Dreaming,
Czelsc,
chicken2024,
Fetzen,
Naril,
DELETED35823,
Izurich,
Hos,
Thayr,
Sylvan
Status
Recent Statuses
8 yrs ago
If there are RPs/PM's I need to reply to- I am working on it, I'm a little overladen in life atm. I haven't forgotten about you :)
9 yrs ago
Aaand back.
9 yrs ago
ALERT- I'm going AFK for a week, anyone that sees this on here, I won't be about to respond, this is to both 1x1s/RPs.
Bio
I've RP'd for the best part of over ten years now here on the Guild, and particularly like military settings, both contemporary, past and near future. I have even dabbled in a little more experimental RPs, as well as created a plethora of 1x1s over my time in the guild. I've like creating RPs with a distinct flavor, but love classic settings too.
I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy- though I always come back!
I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy- though I always come back!
Most Recent Posts
No worries! I've got no preference for post orders, so if you feel you have a witty reply, get posted!
Skye's initial concerns with Sam almost felt like they doubled with Zurvan coming in with....holy shit, was that a fox? He had a way of making friends...and the fox looked tame, as if the big man's presence itself calmed it down to a complete stop rather than its' ordinary hyperactive movement, waving across to him and his fox.
"Awww...now that is cute, Zurvan. Looks almost like you want to fit in with all the redheads or something? Good to have you back." Skye remarked, using her whisky glass to remark out, sitting up on the sofa as Sam looked across, a little disgusted, given that while his fox was cute....well, he felt a little triggered.
"What, so Bruce Almighty here can bring a fox, but we can't have puppies on base? Oh, and yes, Zurvan- this weed is the best we get now. Not even proper zest to it, schmoking this is a fucking joke." It got a reciving glance from Skye, with a distinct sigh, almost as if the youngest member of the team was just asking for this shit.
"Yeah, because Zurvan doesn't keep his guests permenently. Or at least, in a method that means I don't know anything about them, now do I? For a guy that murders people in the shadows, subtlety isn't your specialism." She replied, a sharp tone cutting to Sam that he rather drop back his line of enquiry before sipping the rest of her whisky down with a delightful swig, wiping her brow.
Leaving her glass at the table, she walked up to the tall First-Nations giant of the team, and the fox chittering and sqeaking away, as if to almost chat with him.
"Aren't you a playful little thing?" It was a mystical talent, but no less impressive, as Skye gave a playful brush of the fox's coat, to an awful lot more chittering, before being interrupted by the other sight and sound of black fabric outside filling the view, before a small black figure landed right in front of the lounge's window. Ah yeah, Astrid had gone out wingsuiting again. Right. And boy, was she getting lower every time she pitched. A sign she was getting bored of not doing anything on base, Skye resolved.
Within a few minutes Astrid had come in after changing her stuff over, enough time for Skye to give the Zurvan's fox a few more strokes and a playful smile, the team leader easy-going enough to be distracted by the cute fox Zurvan had tamed while waving back to Astrid. The sight of the red and blue haired Norwegian coming in and crashing on a sofa was almost a reminder to Skye- her and Sam were almost diametric opposites for light operatives, one in wintery, long-range and sniping-based roles, while the other was a close range, runner and urban warfare specialist. One could crush your windpipe and the other would slice it open. But they worked alright, and did what they did best, though arguably, were the most dysfunctional part of the team for it. The Scottish operative turned to have a look out the window, finding her own seat by Sam again, before turning her attention back to Astrid.
"Glad to hear you enjoyed yourself- bluebird day, so it was either that or you'd have gone skiing, love. Nothing much to report on that front, Astrid. Mostly post-op mop-up. Considering that El Presidente Alvarez isn't dead, and quite a lot more FARC than I intially thought are, so just a few loose ends. Luckily we don't have to deal with a lot of the usual red-tape a SOF team deals with, so it's onto the next clusterfuck, eh?" She retorted, sitting up and heading back to the lounge, realising she had another comment to make- one she made after pouring a half-measure of whisky, pouring another full one for Zurvan and Astrid, and passing it over to them both.
"Here. This shit is a vintage, so you aren't asking if you want it. To a good job done, hey?" Skye said, raising her glass, not for a proper toast but a litle tipple while they were all here.
"Oh, and Sam, Astrid- and I'm not gonna let you two kick the shit out of each other in the Cavern again, dammit, that was a lot of extra fucking paperwork and needless broken ribs."
"We really fucking went at it, you have to admit that, right Skye? Astrid's fat bu.." Sam commented, Skye almost spitting as she heard it, chuckling and interrupting straight away. Kid had some balls, she'll give him that.
"Get a fucking room if you're gonna do that, you two. And get some more protection than you had last time, if you're gonna fight, or else I'll show you just how seriously I feel about venting my anger about paperwork to the team. You want a Mason special on the lake, till you pass out?" Skye replied, sipping whisky in response with her witted and sly response, as veiled a threat as it could be- the Dutchman not often left speechless, but forced to conceed the point, sighing as he finished up with the blunt he was making. He would provoke shit like that sometimes, being a merc, he worked with that often- Skye, not so much. The Scottish lady put the bottle of fine vintage back away, before looking across to the three, her motherly disposition needed to keep this wild gang together.
"That's what I fucking thought. So we're basically on R&R till tomorrow evening. Oracle is keeping me in the loop on a potential Black Flag facility on Crete, something our inteligence friends gathered that we might find ourselves putting a hole in. Till then, try not to kill each other, yeah?"
"Awww...now that is cute, Zurvan. Looks almost like you want to fit in with all the redheads or something? Good to have you back." Skye remarked, using her whisky glass to remark out, sitting up on the sofa as Sam looked across, a little disgusted, given that while his fox was cute....well, he felt a little triggered.
"What, so Bruce Almighty here can bring a fox, but we can't have puppies on base? Oh, and yes, Zurvan- this weed is the best we get now. Not even proper zest to it, schmoking this is a fucking joke." It got a reciving glance from Skye, with a distinct sigh, almost as if the youngest member of the team was just asking for this shit.
"Yeah, because Zurvan doesn't keep his guests permenently. Or at least, in a method that means I don't know anything about them, now do I? For a guy that murders people in the shadows, subtlety isn't your specialism." She replied, a sharp tone cutting to Sam that he rather drop back his line of enquiry before sipping the rest of her whisky down with a delightful swig, wiping her brow.
Leaving her glass at the table, she walked up to the tall First-Nations giant of the team, and the fox chittering and sqeaking away, as if to almost chat with him.
"Aren't you a playful little thing?" It was a mystical talent, but no less impressive, as Skye gave a playful brush of the fox's coat, to an awful lot more chittering, before being interrupted by the other sight and sound of black fabric outside filling the view, before a small black figure landed right in front of the lounge's window. Ah yeah, Astrid had gone out wingsuiting again. Right. And boy, was she getting lower every time she pitched. A sign she was getting bored of not doing anything on base, Skye resolved.
Within a few minutes Astrid had come in after changing her stuff over, enough time for Skye to give the Zurvan's fox a few more strokes and a playful smile, the team leader easy-going enough to be distracted by the cute fox Zurvan had tamed while waving back to Astrid. The sight of the red and blue haired Norwegian coming in and crashing on a sofa was almost a reminder to Skye- her and Sam were almost diametric opposites for light operatives, one in wintery, long-range and sniping-based roles, while the other was a close range, runner and urban warfare specialist. One could crush your windpipe and the other would slice it open. But they worked alright, and did what they did best, though arguably, were the most dysfunctional part of the team for it. The Scottish operative turned to have a look out the window, finding her own seat by Sam again, before turning her attention back to Astrid.
"Glad to hear you enjoyed yourself- bluebird day, so it was either that or you'd have gone skiing, love. Nothing much to report on that front, Astrid. Mostly post-op mop-up. Considering that El Presidente Alvarez isn't dead, and quite a lot more FARC than I intially thought are, so just a few loose ends. Luckily we don't have to deal with a lot of the usual red-tape a SOF team deals with, so it's onto the next clusterfuck, eh?" She retorted, sitting up and heading back to the lounge, realising she had another comment to make- one she made after pouring a half-measure of whisky, pouring another full one for Zurvan and Astrid, and passing it over to them both.
"Here. This shit is a vintage, so you aren't asking if you want it. To a good job done, hey?" Skye said, raising her glass, not for a proper toast but a litle tipple while they were all here.
"Oh, and Sam, Astrid- and I'm not gonna let you two kick the shit out of each other in the Cavern again, dammit, that was a lot of extra fucking paperwork and needless broken ribs."
"We really fucking went at it, you have to admit that, right Skye? Astrid's fat bu.." Sam commented, Skye almost spitting as she heard it, chuckling and interrupting straight away. Kid had some balls, she'll give him that.
"Get a fucking room if you're gonna do that, you two. And get some more protection than you had last time, if you're gonna fight, or else I'll show you just how seriously I feel about venting my anger about paperwork to the team. You want a Mason special on the lake, till you pass out?" Skye replied, sipping whisky in response with her witted and sly response, as veiled a threat as it could be- the Dutchman not often left speechless, but forced to conceed the point, sighing as he finished up with the blunt he was making. He would provoke shit like that sometimes, being a merc, he worked with that often- Skye, not so much. The Scottish lady put the bottle of fine vintage back away, before looking across to the three, her motherly disposition needed to keep this wild gang together.
"That's what I fucking thought. So we're basically on R&R till tomorrow evening. Oracle is keeping me in the loop on a potential Black Flag facility on Crete, something our inteligence friends gathered that we might find ourselves putting a hole in. Till then, try not to kill each other, yeah?"
We're live!
Three paragraphs I would say are a good guide to stop making posts too long- though of course your intro can be a little longer to extend what your character is up to. I've left it open- but it gives a nice platform to show what your character is about and start chatting to the rest of the team!
After the intro things will start cooking with gas, so have fun getting set up!
Three paragraphs I would say are a good guide to stop making posts too long- though of course your intro can be a little longer to extend what your character is up to. I've left it open- but it gives a nice platform to show what your character is about and start chatting to the rest of the team!
After the intro things will start cooking with gas, so have fun getting set up!
Somewhere in the Swiss Alps
"La Serpentine"
1500 Hours
The "La Serpentine" facility was a rather incognito one- most people would barely make it out in the high and snowy Swiss mountains, nestled in a valley above a large reservoir and among a set of mountain glaciers, peaks and ridges south of Arolla and Lac des Dix on the mountain that bore its namesake. Most tourists that might have seen the small anomaly in that landscape from afar would have guessed the short slope-level inclined runway and small concrete structure next to it belonged to a billionaire's private lair, another random concrete bomb shelter like all the other random ones Switzerland had, or something like that- but to the team of Foxtrot Oscar, it was their home that they had out of harm's way that allowed them to deploy to much of the world. There was a tiny road through the ice and snow that led to a service route on the Lac des Dix, but getting up here was half the challenge- if you weren't stopped by an array of gates, the hairpins might bore you half to death, as might the fact that any visitors could be seen coming from a mile away.
The facility itself was a fairly plush one- a renovated mining complex, previously left to rot before FO's arrival. The main feature was an incredibly short and tight tarmac runway laid out ontop of an existing gravel one on the facility's tiny precipice- barely large enough to let a light aircraft land given it was barely longer than the length of an aircraft carrier's deck, but more specifically, it helped a V-22 Osprey and a handful of fast jets use it as a stopping point and a supporting role for whenever Foxtrot Oscar needed more firepower than the team of six that were normally sent out. Beyond the runway, the concrete structure was only a fascia- the mining control room and supply rooms ripped out and replaced with living quarters, including a living room that looked out of a large open panoramic window of the mountain scene the base faced onto, flanked by a gym, a pool, rooms and a tactical briefing room. A very cosy lounge, with a full bar, sofas and beanbags helped with making this place feel "lived in", rather than purely for function. A very specific decision by Skye- they weren't Spartans, they were gonna be here for a long time, and good decor cost....actually, about £50K, so she spent it to get the work done. When you're the one calling the shots, you get to be an interior decorator, right?
Beyond that however, the appearance of a typical bilionaire's weird holiday retreat changed into a facility built into the mine, built into the granite walls that once housed mineshaft and larger storerooms. Antoher twelve support staff roamed in this area, looking after a small motorpool, an weapons range and armoury built into a particularly long tunnel of the mine, another pair of briefing rooms, a server system, alongside a VR training facility and a whole heap of shoothouses, training rooms and facilities right at the back. Perfect for testing each of the operatives in any kind of environment, virtual or half-real. After all, new tech came in all the time- and honing skills in that place was how they got so damn good. The team specialising in so many different ways meant that sometimes Skye wanted to see how it all sowed together- and right at the furthest, deepest cavern of the mine was where that happened. Oh yeah, and of course, Fight Cavern. The place to see some poor new recruit, or prospect get kicked the shit out of them before being offered entry into The Devil's Cooker. First rule of Fight Cavern is that you don't remember how you got to Fight Cavern....
--
The figure of Skye on base was remarkably casual for the team lead, the red-haired Scottish CO of Foxtrot Oscar wearing an old-school navy-coloured "Slayer" T-shirt with a pair of navy jeans, a pair of rounded sunglasses finishing the look of the fiery and fierce person that kept the team in check. Death metal was her shit, though you wouldn't think it beyond all the highland fiddle and softly-softly stuff she normally listened to. Her FNX at her side as per always, the team lead never seemed out of pace no matter what environment she was in spite of her casual Friday look. Heading up the stairs into the main lounge, she could see the team's resident Dutchman, and a handful of others about, enjoying R&R after their eventful last op. It could have gone much smoother, but all things considered, they'd done a good job. Extracted the Colombian president from being kidnapped by a drug cartel, without it even making the news he'd left his villa. A brow of sweat wiped off everyone's head. But that was just another Wednesday for FO- and for Skye, an annoying recurrence. Looking to the team's parkour and general spiderman, a shitty plan came to mind, as she walked over, noticing him snoring away on the sofa.
"Sam! Get the fuck up!" She yelled as she slammed the table, the Dutchman waking from sleep with a yelping jolt, the bong falling off his knees and smashing on the floor, the Scotswoman trying to hold back the chuckle in just as she crashed down on the sofa, the sight of his face changing from fear, to shock, to annoyance painting everything the Scot wanted to get.
"Why'd you do that?" He asked, Skye shrugging as she inspected his weed over that was on the floor, having a look through.
"That is an utterly pish-shite grade. I dunno, mebbe don't fucking fall asleep stoned or something when your boss is on site? You get nightmares, remember?" Her sultry Scots cut back, making her almost giggle more at the sight of it all.
"Yeah, but ever since we took back that Colombian last week, you know how fucking hard it is to get good weed? Like, I can't even do mail order from Colorado anymore! Shit...sorry." Sam replied, Skye shrugging, sitting down opposite on the next red sofa, feet up, sunglasses off as she giggled, shrugging her shoulders. He wasn't a happy bunny, but he'd calm down soon enough.
"Yeah, well maybe you shouldn't smoke weed anyway in a highly secure facility where we have a zero drugs tolerance policy? I mean, if you get drugs tested...you seriously think I'd piss in a cup so you avoid getting booted?" Skye retorted, Sam chuckling in reply, grinning.
"Maybe 'cos you love me enough you would. Where you gonna find a guy who does what I do with my professional standards, eh?" Sam added, giggling in retort as he got his grass back together, scooping it back onto the table and sighing, Skye not sure how to reply.
"The fucking things we do to keep us together....so long as you do what you do best and don't make my job too fucking difficult, I couldn't give a shit what it takes to keep you on side. Fucking give me strength sometimes though, Sam..." She mustered up, standing up and heading to the tabletop in the lounge, grabbing a bottle from the cooler, a dulled Highland Whisky she had very much gotten into of late and had no second thoughts in pouring.
She rarely found herself on base sitting about doing nothing, but given her body had physically given up after her last round of running and swimming, a glass of fine whisky would do her joy for the moment, as she went back to the sofa, legs up, sipping down the liquor as neat as she could. The rest of the team might come by soon, or be out on their activities, wherever they may be.
"The whisky a part of that leadership method, Miss Mason?" Sam asked, putting a neat blunt together, well, out of whatever was left of the weed from the bong, and looking to get that down his system.
"Fuckin' course it is." Skye replied smoothly, sipping the braveheart juice to heart's content.
"La Serpentine"
1500 Hours
The "La Serpentine" facility was a rather incognito one- most people would barely make it out in the high and snowy Swiss mountains, nestled in a valley above a large reservoir and among a set of mountain glaciers, peaks and ridges south of Arolla and Lac des Dix on the mountain that bore its namesake. Most tourists that might have seen the small anomaly in that landscape from afar would have guessed the short slope-level inclined runway and small concrete structure next to it belonged to a billionaire's private lair, another random concrete bomb shelter like all the other random ones Switzerland had, or something like that- but to the team of Foxtrot Oscar, it was their home that they had out of harm's way that allowed them to deploy to much of the world. There was a tiny road through the ice and snow that led to a service route on the Lac des Dix, but getting up here was half the challenge- if you weren't stopped by an array of gates, the hairpins might bore you half to death, as might the fact that any visitors could be seen coming from a mile away.
The facility itself was a fairly plush one- a renovated mining complex, previously left to rot before FO's arrival. The main feature was an incredibly short and tight tarmac runway laid out ontop of an existing gravel one on the facility's tiny precipice- barely large enough to let a light aircraft land given it was barely longer than the length of an aircraft carrier's deck, but more specifically, it helped a V-22 Osprey and a handful of fast jets use it as a stopping point and a supporting role for whenever Foxtrot Oscar needed more firepower than the team of six that were normally sent out. Beyond the runway, the concrete structure was only a fascia- the mining control room and supply rooms ripped out and replaced with living quarters, including a living room that looked out of a large open panoramic window of the mountain scene the base faced onto, flanked by a gym, a pool, rooms and a tactical briefing room. A very cosy lounge, with a full bar, sofas and beanbags helped with making this place feel "lived in", rather than purely for function. A very specific decision by Skye- they weren't Spartans, they were gonna be here for a long time, and good decor cost....actually, about £50K, so she spent it to get the work done. When you're the one calling the shots, you get to be an interior decorator, right?
Beyond that however, the appearance of a typical bilionaire's weird holiday retreat changed into a facility built into the mine, built into the granite walls that once housed mineshaft and larger storerooms. Antoher twelve support staff roamed in this area, looking after a small motorpool, an weapons range and armoury built into a particularly long tunnel of the mine, another pair of briefing rooms, a server system, alongside a VR training facility and a whole heap of shoothouses, training rooms and facilities right at the back. Perfect for testing each of the operatives in any kind of environment, virtual or half-real. After all, new tech came in all the time- and honing skills in that place was how they got so damn good. The team specialising in so many different ways meant that sometimes Skye wanted to see how it all sowed together- and right at the furthest, deepest cavern of the mine was where that happened. Oh yeah, and of course, Fight Cavern. The place to see some poor new recruit, or prospect get kicked the shit out of them before being offered entry into The Devil's Cooker. First rule of Fight Cavern is that you don't remember how you got to Fight Cavern....
--
The figure of Skye on base was remarkably casual for the team lead, the red-haired Scottish CO of Foxtrot Oscar wearing an old-school navy-coloured "Slayer" T-shirt with a pair of navy jeans, a pair of rounded sunglasses finishing the look of the fiery and fierce person that kept the team in check. Death metal was her shit, though you wouldn't think it beyond all the highland fiddle and softly-softly stuff she normally listened to. Her FNX at her side as per always, the team lead never seemed out of pace no matter what environment she was in spite of her casual Friday look. Heading up the stairs into the main lounge, she could see the team's resident Dutchman, and a handful of others about, enjoying R&R after their eventful last op. It could have gone much smoother, but all things considered, they'd done a good job. Extracted the Colombian president from being kidnapped by a drug cartel, without it even making the news he'd left his villa. A brow of sweat wiped off everyone's head. But that was just another Wednesday for FO- and for Skye, an annoying recurrence. Looking to the team's parkour and general spiderman, a shitty plan came to mind, as she walked over, noticing him snoring away on the sofa.
"Sam! Get the fuck up!" She yelled as she slammed the table, the Dutchman waking from sleep with a yelping jolt, the bong falling off his knees and smashing on the floor, the Scotswoman trying to hold back the chuckle in just as she crashed down on the sofa, the sight of his face changing from fear, to shock, to annoyance painting everything the Scot wanted to get.
"Why'd you do that?" He asked, Skye shrugging as she inspected his weed over that was on the floor, having a look through.
"That is an utterly pish-shite grade. I dunno, mebbe don't fucking fall asleep stoned or something when your boss is on site? You get nightmares, remember?" Her sultry Scots cut back, making her almost giggle more at the sight of it all.
"Yeah, but ever since we took back that Colombian last week, you know how fucking hard it is to get good weed? Like, I can't even do mail order from Colorado anymore! Shit...sorry." Sam replied, Skye shrugging, sitting down opposite on the next red sofa, feet up, sunglasses off as she giggled, shrugging her shoulders. He wasn't a happy bunny, but he'd calm down soon enough.
"Yeah, well maybe you shouldn't smoke weed anyway in a highly secure facility where we have a zero drugs tolerance policy? I mean, if you get drugs tested...you seriously think I'd piss in a cup so you avoid getting booted?" Skye retorted, Sam chuckling in reply, grinning.
"Maybe 'cos you love me enough you would. Where you gonna find a guy who does what I do with my professional standards, eh?" Sam added, giggling in retort as he got his grass back together, scooping it back onto the table and sighing, Skye not sure how to reply.
"The fucking things we do to keep us together....so long as you do what you do best and don't make my job too fucking difficult, I couldn't give a shit what it takes to keep you on side. Fucking give me strength sometimes though, Sam..." She mustered up, standing up and heading to the tabletop in the lounge, grabbing a bottle from the cooler, a dulled Highland Whisky she had very much gotten into of late and had no second thoughts in pouring.
She rarely found herself on base sitting about doing nothing, but given her body had physically given up after her last round of running and swimming, a glass of fine whisky would do her joy for the moment, as she went back to the sofa, legs up, sipping down the liquor as neat as she could. The rest of the team might come by soon, or be out on their activities, wherever they may be.
"The whisky a part of that leadership method, Miss Mason?" Sam asked, putting a neat blunt together, well, out of whatever was left of the weed from the bong, and looking to get that down his system.
"Fuckin' course it is." Skye replied smoothly, sipping the braveheart juice to heart's content.
And done! Thought up Sam as a bit more of a casual character compared to Skye- he's the Dutch Spiderman, who likes weed, waffles and making sweet music (while snapping necks on the side) and certainly should act as a bit of a foil for Astrid and Skye.
I think tomorrow evening I'll kick things off as we've all hopefully had a lovely Christmas.
I think tomorrow evening I'll kick things off as we've all hopefully had a lovely Christmas.
@BigPapaBelial
CS is good to go! Post it up on the Char section.
I'm gonna get to work on another character I didn't think I would make today- but felt a little inspired recently, so I'll give it a punt!
CS is good to go! Post it up on the Char section.
I'm gonna get to work on another character I didn't think I would make today- but felt a little inspired recently, so I'll give it a punt!
Sorry for the slow progress over Christmas- I hope everyone's having a good one, wherever you are!
I'm in the process of drafting a second character and I'll be posting the start of the IC hopefully on the 27th (ie Monday). Should be a fairly quick way to introduce your character, and the world of Foxtrot Oscar!
I'm in the process of drafting a second character and I'll be posting the start of the IC hopefully on the 27th (ie Monday). Should be a fairly quick way to introduce your character, and the world of Foxtrot Oscar!
Had an unexpectedly busy day- sorry to get back to all so late! I'll write up my next char tomorrow instead as my creative juices have run dry for the day sadly.
ONL, yours is accepted (pop it into the CS Thread)- Big, yours and Sylvian's are looking good on the route there. Looking forward to seeing what you come up with when you finish!
ONL, yours is accepted (pop it into the CS Thread)- Big, yours and Sylvian's are looking good on the route there. Looking forward to seeing what you come up with when you finish!
Bumpity bump! We still have two slots remaining!
© 2007-2024