Recent Statuses

5 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 :)
6 yrs ago
Aaand back.
6 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.


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!

Most Recent Posts

Tobias rose his eyebrows, almost as if to comedic effect with her last sentence, holding back the chuckle.
"Holiday? What's that?" He sarcastically asked, chuckling as he gave his coffee a sip, a gentle one as it was still roastingly hot, as he concurred, knowing she had a point. They had seen some serious shit together, some very exotic places too- and while many of them were just cleaning out insergent attacks, sometimes it did amp up bigger than that. Tobias couldn't help but feel with all the different moves mercs were making, they were going to be kept busy, and flushed with cash as he turned back to Gabby.

"Yeah, I know how you're feeling. Time away from this would be pretty decent....anything wtih a decent riptide would work wonders." The Cornishman added in a resigned manner, sipping away before continuing.
"I suppose there's plenty of places they could send us, but the list seems to always change of late. I remember getting into a firefight with a bunch of mercs back when I was in Greenland running a security detail on a mine there. Without the armour, of course. Made me think....they can send us to some war-torn shitholes, but it's only a matter of time till we end up toe to toe with people who might actually be better trained, in places where there's shadow companies. You know, people who might actually mgiht be a serious threat..." Tobias added, sipping down a bit more coffee as he looked dead into Gabby's eyes, deadpan as he could be.
"Though mind you, that'd be a really fucking bad Monday for them when we turn up." He gave a wry chuckle, knowing sure, it was important not to downplay other people in their profession, it was worth remembering they might have had a bit of an ace up their sleeves.

Finishing up the donut and putting the paper wrapper back on the table, he gave another gentle swig at the coffee, Tobias leaning back as he checked over his phone quickly, skimming through the headlines and then looking back to Gabby.
"Shit, do you remember when we first ended up in this company? All fresh faced, unsure what we even signed up to....makes me wonder, going back to regular infantry work someday is going to be surreal. That is, if we ever do..."
Apologies on my delay there- been a little uncreative lately, but back on it now!
Hunkering down, Andrew set his spotting post next to Nolan, watching on as he readied his own rifle as a backup. Of course, Nolan was doing most of the shooting- he was an elite marksman, far better than Andrew was, though the Kiwi had a markman's brain to read and play out certain situations. As a spotter, it worked nicely to make sure that he watched the periphery, more than just down the rifle scope- though of course, joining in when he had to. Andrew knew Nolan's youth had exposed him heavily to the outdoors- he had an otherworldly sort of feel for it, but Andrew's mind was far more attached to the more human, anthropogenic planting on it. It was why they worked so well, perhaps- a sort of link that just clicked, and made them what they were.

"Good kills, Nolan. You don't need me much to snipe fuckers perfectly, huh....well, I'm here for moral support anyway." He chuckled, knowing there were plenty more to drop, but right now, they had to guide their man in on the ground.
"Copy, Osprey. Good work so far. Grab those last SPAAGs and get yourself off that airfield. Good timing, too. Task force isn't far gone. We are going to turn this place into a fucking fireworks show when they arrive." He called out, a wry chuckle at the carnage and fury they were going to cause something to admire. Placing that much explosives around the site would be something, as he adjusted his optic, looking down. The note to Markus was touching....and something in Andrew knew that those two had gone through a similar bond. Shit really hit the fan for them in Kosovo- a stark reminder that the forces they were up against had plenty of capability of their own, as he adjusted the spotting optic, looking to the side of the control tower.
"Osprey, if you've got any spare explosives left over, there's a fuel pump by the side of the control tower. Might have seen it, but if you haven't....chances are, you set that to leak and it'll blow the tank underneath the concrete with some explosives. Got two hostiles nearby. Me and Nolan can snipe them out." He called out, watching as the ghostly distant figure weaved around the airbase's parked SPAAGs, charges being laid, connected and ready to blast.
"Merlin, this is Cordite One, we're nearly done with the charges at the bottom. ETA ten till we should be all finished and ready to blast this one, over." Andrew called into his throat comms, aware that Merlin would be able to oversee the bigger picture and relay this to the other teams.
"Good copy, Cordite- Blackfish, Blue Sword, Knight, we are continuing as planned."


Back in the skies, Natalie chuckled as Victor described the paint, and all it entailed. Many couples were close of course, but being let into this, it felt....well, like a true connection. Real, mattering, even in spite of the insanity that this operation was going to be, and many of the ones they were on. Her facepaint if she ever wore it was simple- a lightening or a typical camo pattern, but an intricate pattern like was an art form, an almost ritually empowering thing to have. She giggled at the thought of it being a "courtship" was a long way in for that.
"Heh, perhaps it could be that..I'll take that wisdom, Victor." She replied, letting him finish as she brushed her hair out from the side of her face, letting him get in and finish the last stroke. She pouted at him, letting him come close and kiss her intensely. She replied the same, consumed in the moment, holding him tight against her armour, deeply locked. She felt at ease, completely in the moment with him, and it was a feeling she couldn't describe. She saw him go to hell to drag her out of it- and no doubt she would do the same if she had to, no questions asked.

"Paint or no paint, wisest decision I made was you, Victor. Mon cherie....we should look tough for them though, I think. In a moment..." She whispered into his ears, giving no damn either, gently rubbing her painted cheek against his, shutting her eyes for a brief moment, lost in that second and then back to the world they were in. It was a strange one to be back in, but hey, she would make the most of it, as she checked the large minigun on her left hand side, belt pulled tight into it and the other elements of her loadout needing a brief check. As much as she wanted to be lost in Victor, there was work to be done, as she gave herself one more check over, from Athena's Wrath on her hilt to the harpoon on her left arm, to the twin Deagles she'd elected to go for. Tools of the trade for someone getting shot at on a regular basis, she thought to herself, standing in the wobbly V22's interior. With a thump on the metal, she walked over to Ross, Jenny and Carl, the herculean Russo-Franco gal getting back into the rhythm of carrying that large lump of spinny killy metal, helmet in left hand and minigun in right.
"How are you three all holding up? Game faces on?" She asked, Ross nodding as he gave a thumbs up, Jenny following the same.

"Yeah, all good. Are we still in the shadows, like, have we got no major international news on this anyone has reported?" Ross enquired, Natalie giving a wry shrug even through the armour in response.
"You haven't been taking pictures and sharing it on Facebook? Please tell me no..."
"Nope, not intending to, Bear."
"Please keep it that way- so far all good. The LZ is 15 minutes out, and we should be in for a fireworks show once those AA vehicles go up. Don't shit yourselves if we still take some ground fire- faster we get out of this bird, faster we can hit them and take back control." She dryly remarked, heading back for Victor, the fearsome size of her always staggering to see, her cold demeanour just a reminder of the focus, grit and resolve it took to keep a straight head in a situation as crazy as this. The hot zone was coming- and the firefight was going to be one of their toughest yet.
Tobias chuckled, stepping aside and doing that awkward thing of standing not too far from the till, Gabby's grin reciprocated right back at her by the Cornishman.
"Yeah sure....I mean....this isn't exactly dawn over PNG, but I'll take it." He dryly replied with a small chuckle, watching as the barista got to work, before back to the Israeli-American, aware she certainly found this as dreary as he did. It felt monotone- he remembered himself how it felt, how it had been leaving Raven International, involuntarily of course. Getting the prosthetics, the months of physio and work it took to actually learn how to live again, like a functioning human being. Without the legs, he basically stood barely up to Gabby's hip, which was utterly, utterly surreal, right now of course being only a couple inches shorter due to the titanium lumps at the end of his stumps. He remembered how empty he had felt when he was jobless and out of the forces, literally without a leg to stand on, and coming to a place like this almost was a complete shock to his way of doing things. Perhaps the spartan way of living had taken over him from the forces- he couldn't function without the early starts and punishing regime, almost like it was a way of making sure his mind was always screwed on, fit to function. Observant, like the way a hawk would look at its surroundings relentlessly. Without purpose, it took a lot of fiber in him to remain on course- and while he knew Gabby did get it, she was an athlete, a copper, a special forces soldier who had that relentless conviction behind her, that change in his life felt like pulling the plug and rewiring up his head.

Even looking around, he could see it, the other office workers and builders, people who had no idea that him and Gabby were in the business of killing people in faraway lands so they could have stability of some kind. It was surreal, almost as if Tobias could almost tip over into that jaded side of him, but he was more than intelligent enough than to let him go that way. The truth was, it was a lesser evil what they did. And hey, it was cool as fuck...right? And on that melancholic note, the barista raised a hand and called out, the Cornishman motioning to go over.
"Thanks love." He commented, passing Gabby her hot chocolate and muffin, taking his brew and sugary donut after as he swiped his watch over the card machine, a satisfying bleep pinging across. With a gentle sigh, he picked out a group of seats by the window, walking over with a gentle clatter and taking a seat, exhaling as he gave it a moment for his caffiene rush to cool from its molten-hot state. Looking across, Tobias brushed a longish lock of his hair back a little, aware he didn't have that Israeli sass of his counterpart but more a surfer's vibe that perhaps was one of the few perks that came with private military work.

"Damn...what do you reckon, they gonna send us halfway across the world again? Seems sort of standard in our line of work...though I have to admit, it would be nicer to spend a bit more time somewhere. See the sights, actually appreciate the locals rather than you know....yeah." Tobias candidly remarked, gently sipping the coffee a bit in spite of how burningly hot it was, reclining back into his seat.
Tobias chuckled, shrugging in response. It was true- they had a hell of a lot of boring shit to do, but then again, they needed the operators' input, what they could do and actually pull off when in a combat situation. Though they could do it a hell of a lot better than online forms and bits of paper....
"Yeah, I was thinking that...was it 5,000 rounds you fired, or 5,001? Shit, either way, that was a very tidy contract. I honestly think they make us do it for paperwork's sake." He added, stepping into the lift as it dinged on their floor. Walking inside, he waited on Gabby to come through, pushing the button for ground floor. He exhaled, leaning against the wall of the lift, looking across to the taller Israeli. In the confined space, lift chats always felt a little more higher tense than they were out in the "public" realm.

"No prizes to say that it's not gonna matter. I did see how much the mining firm paid us for it. It's a really peachy number. Solid seven figures, and that's without bonuses for how little collateral damage we caused. For thirty minutes work....I've never seen any margin like it in security work. This shit we use comes along leaps and bounds, there's no insergent that is gonna want to be in our's gonna change the way security is done. For better or worse I suppose..." He added, a little thoughtful on that note as the elevator doors opened, the open plan office visible as Tobias led the way, adjusting his cuff as they walked towards the exit, the hum of the office quiet yet consistent, a place that felt eeriliy dry for a place that supported a pair of operators causing more carnage than a company of soldiers could. He gave a quick glance at his phone, checking for any messages or calls, before stepping out of the building, an inconspicous entry for what was such a complex facility. The business park come industrial estate was fairly plain, but the recognisable logo of a coffee branch across the road, the one that rhymed with "Lard Ducks" gave it at least an 8/10 from Tobias, at least in providing coffee. The overcast sky of Bracknell was what stopped it being a 9, but fuck it, caffiene was a necessity when you weren't being shot at or firing heavy weaponry back at people.

The queue was relatively short inside, as Tobias and Gabby got through to the counter, the Cornishman looking up to the Israeli with a certain reassurance, aware that some may have seen their partnership as a little odd, strange even in any office setting, let alone even a warzone. The cripple with the chiseled athlete in smart casual, what a sight to behold, but it worked somewhat. They bounced off each other, and well, she was the only person Tobias could really talk to properly about what they did in the context of the fighting they did.
"I'll cover this one, I owe you for last time." He said, the barista coming around.
"Hiya, yeah one latte and a jam donut, Gabby, yourself?" He asked, the Cornishman aware that tight as he was, a round was a round and it had to be paid homage.
Part Four: Party Mode

Melbourne, Australia

Hugo had certainly lit the F2 series up, as had Kasumi- and to now prove his skills in F1 machinery felt like a dream come true. This wasn't the simulator at Maranello, where he'd worked as a development driver- this was an actual machine that could go easily past 230mph on the straights, and induce neck-bracing Gs through corners. It was a fighter jet with wheels, and felt like it had the technology of one to boot. A modern Formula One car was an incredible piece of engineering, even Valkyrie's attempt was laden with CFD, wind tunnel and fluid dynamics testing at every contour and carbon composite piece, and it felt like it.

With FP1 and FP2 ahead, Hugo had followed Kasumi out, setting into the track at Albert Park and keeping a nice pace. Following a few diagnostics first- it wasn't alien, but in the white helmet with the red and maroon hexagonally-patterned trim and an orange visor, the Portuguese driver was certainly recognisable to his home fans, a pattern similar to the one he had back in Formula 2. The car's striking livery was as classic as the Gulf Oil livery to motorsports fans- a white Castrol livery with red and blue dovetails, with the title sponsor flanked by others such as BP, Sagres, Rockstar, and a handful of others that had dotted the American-based team's first attempt. It had to be said, such a classic livery just made it a magnet to anyone who loved motorsport, especially classic JGTC racing- the Supras and NSXes of old had a livery, and the Honda power unit sowed that nicely together. A crisp roar came from behind Hugo's firewall as he buffered brakes and took turn one at speed, the G-forces of the hard right and left pelting at his neck, the acceleration blistering as the car span a little on the exit kerb, throwing marbles aside.

"Okay, telemetry is looking very neat, let's set a nice race delta through the next few, and we'll pit you in three laps time with Kasumi. How are the tyres?" The British engineer asked, Ray Baldwin a bloke that Hugo trusted deeply even in spite of knowing him barely a few months now. He was from another team in the Banbury area, he couldn't remember which, but had a glut of knowledge and experience on the pitwall. So far, Hugo was in his element, focussed on the machinery's capabilities and not fucking it up.
"Tyre deg seems nice, heating seems inconsistent. Softs are not going to work as well in this weather if we've got this weather on Sunday!" Hugo communicated, the Portuguese braking into turn three and taking a fine line through, chuckling as he could only remind himself....this was Formula One.
Hey man, hope that's somewhere nice! I just got back (seems we're trading places!)- so I'll cook up something.
Fun little post- it seems a bit dreary but it's to put a funny spin on "office" dynamics and explore a bit of a non-combat side of our two, though we know our two are far more than office pencil pushers!
Tobias gave a chuckle, as he ran in front waving a middle finger back, just knowing just how much of a shit she was at the best of times, but he knew exactly how to give it back.
"Fuck you very much, princess." His response painted just how it was between the two of them, the kind of banter that most people just saw as shithousing abuse, but they loved it anyway. It was another coping mechanism, but then again, when you could do the sort of damage they just did, it sort of flowed well. Stepping inside, Tobias tapped the side of the aircraft with a nice thump, calling it out.
"Chief, little hand says it's time to roll!" He called out through the comms to the pilot, an easy "Affirm" coming back as the V22 kicked up and with the two of them inside, began to dust off. The door shutting, the scene of the scar of the rare earth mine against the rising sun and the endless island jungle was a splendid sight, one that given they had just been shot at a little while ago, at least left a nice tinge on their return out of here. Taking a seat, Tobias took his helmet off, and reaching over into the reinforced front webbing of the suit, pulled the cornish pasty out. It was still hot, against all odds. Thermal insulation on that particular pocket had it's perks...
"Joy of joys." He sighed, leaning back, the door closing as the V22 began to go into horizontal flight, leaving behind the mine and eventually, the remote island.


Part One:

Four Days Later

Bracknell, England

1100 Hours

The small depot on the edge of Bracknell looked fairly inconspicuous, a building that fit in with the business park's drab demeanour, another metal shack among many others. It looked almost cluelessly inconspicious for a private security company, having an indoor parking bay and a relatively drab international design type of architecture of the sort that fit a head office for small to medium business. A clear sign of "this was built as a part of a business park". A reception, a main workfloor, and a couple of offices, with a small workshop and a few breakout rooms and briefing rooms all furnished in a plushgrey and blue colour scheme adding to just that very slick, corporate-like look. But beyond that, a couple of reinforced security doors, one in the garage complex, one in the office itself revealed something quite not like most office- well, that the facility's critical element was hidden beneath ground. In some ways, the contractor had effectively chosen a "hide in plain sight" approach to its operation- after all, it was just a business like any other, but to keep everything at a distant, remote place would just create more fuss when moving the suits around. Here, it just looked like any other security contractor's office.

And downstairs, it was anything but any other- a two-storey basement that certainly had a presence about it. Iron Wolf had a licence to store weapons, ammunition and other military hardware in this very specific area, in a document hidden in the papers of MI6 with lots of black lines through it. It had the licence to keep the suits here too, both of them in a sealed, secured element to make sure that they were kept far away from prying eyes. The basement was another world, a high-tech labarotory with yellow, white and black hazard paint and hard concrete everywhere, showing just how recent it had all been built. The labs themselves were mostly to do with exoskeleton testing and sensor work, but some were specialist in their nature, testing more exotic and interesting tech that was in the final phase before being fitted to the suit. It almost looked like a Formula One engineering department, full of weird and wonderful toys that were very, very expensive. Of course, this was the last bit of testing and experimenting- most of it was done by DARPA and ARIA, as well as the private contractors they worked with in tandem to get the suits through to Iron Wolf, so this lab was relatively small, even for it's size. And of course, where exoskeletons and weapons were, there had to be an internal testing range. A firing range with heavy soundproofing was in place, making it sound to other buildings like heavy drilling going on in the subterrenean facility when a minigun was fired, whilst a miniture assault combat course provided a place to test the suits' ability to move, jostle and react under fire, with portholes for actual live fire to come back at them. It had been a serious cost to pay- but then again, given how much their two operators made them money for it, and given they were literally the main two, there was hardly need for anything else if they could subcontract it in or get it elsewhere.

Iron Wolf was a fairly small company by all regards, the sort of buisness that didn't have many operators or staff for a reason- it subcontracted a lot, but still had to remain professional. A lot of people, including the board of directors and owner worked from home unless they were in for meetings so the depot itself wasn't overtly staffed. But a couple had made the trip down to watch Tobias and Gabriela's play-by-play, with the two of them mostly wanting to fall asleep, but enjoying the highlight reels. It wasn't all go and shoot bad guys- it had boring elements to it too, and those had to be complemented by this, and it was what helped feedback their improvements, as well as iterations to the suits. They were prototypes after all- and getting them to a higher level was going to be what the bigwigs wanted.

It was there in the office that Tobias found himself, his detatched metal legs on his desks in the workfloor, filling out a brief psych eval, one of the last mundane jobs he had to do before he was going to pop out for lunch. A rare desk day, and while usually a lot of contracts would be strung together and they'd do it in the field, here they had actually been shipped home, back all the way from the far-flung jungle of Papua New Guinea. For such a formal company, everyone was usually smart-casual, with Tobias wearing a grey checked shirt with grey cut-length trousers. It did make sense given that was a company still filled with literal mercenaries, and not overtly corporate types. Getting in a suit and tie made no sense- especially not in world where you wanted to actually appeal to people whose choice in high fashion was camoflauge and whatever they could get their hands on. And anyway, it never really demanded it- not unless there was something formal going on. On that thought he finished up, gently jostling his legs off the table and with a gentle turn, stepping into the braces for them both. A gentle twist and he torqued up the brace, the fact he was even able to walk at all still a freakin' miracle to him. He could have been very easily wheelchair bound, but the prosthetics were a literal lifesaver, as he finished up, the routine basically autonomous to him now. It didn't feel really that much different, he still went for runs and climbed, he could even spar just as well with Gabby- but nobody was ever going to take him seriously as a professional soldier again without the armour, not unless he was going to magically grow them back. He checked his phone, looking over the divider of the hotdesk he was at, seeing Gabby over there working on her end.

"Yo up for heading out for a brew? My eval's all submitted. I mean, you're not suffering any hallucinations, are ya?" Tobias asked cheekily, catching her attention among the murmur of phone calls and printer noise. Ordinary this was, compared to the very extraordinary they did for work- but they had a few bits to come back for in half an hour in that basement, and a few drills to run with some new kit.
With a wry chuckle, Tobias couldn't help but agree, knowing no doubt she had certainly expended a lot of it in that process. Charging a pair of APCs no matter what was always going to be insane- even if the armour could theoretically shrug a 20mm round, you wouldn't want to be in it's path, getting torn to bits by a vehicle like that. A pretty dumb way to die after taking a hell of a lot of small fire, that was for sure....but alas, she had that capability, otherwise she wouldn't have done it, Tobias reasoned. He'd done far more stupid himself was literally why he had metal for legs nowadays. He felt the same as Dunner mind, knowing that no matter how well protected you were, charging at people shooting at you with 7.62 rounds no matter how insulated you were would always be a shock to the system.

"Oh yeah...though when they run yours play by play Gabs, remind me to bring popcorn. Shit, you didn't even see what I did in that vehicle shed...not saying it's as good, but there's a reason that I didn't think there was anyone left in there." Tobias added, the oversized rescue axe covered in a nice covering in blood that he held out for a moment, the Cornishman shurgging as he put it back on his suit's front plate carrier, knowing it said enough. It had been a frenzy, one hand with an SMG, the other with that- but sometimes it was the only way to get things done, especially when levelling the whole thing wasn't an option. While perhaps he wasn't as open as what he could do in CQC, it was pretty grizzly what having a few hundred kilos of force could do to someone's wellbeing.

"Let's just say it's gonna be really sticky in there. Like, literally. Wiping that down is gonna need a lot of Fairy liquid." The darkness of the humour had to go some length to keep them upbeat, the Cornishman adjusting his prosthetic "feet" inside the suit, taking a solid breath of air after that charge in, almost alike Gabby's Stormhound. Her comment on the R&D was true- sometimes it felt glacial in the team, but then again, when the goodies came they were more often than not pretty excellent.
"That's true, they don't listen...but then again, not exactly like they can tell us much either. The feeling is mutual, I got a few ideas of my own. The suits are different in type but there's plenty of overlap for anything we get. Trick is to get the most out of it we can. The overdrive in this suit is nice, but it's still a bit too clunky for my liking." Tobias replied, leading the way up through the compound, knowing that after all that instant-action, it was now the other side of their job.

The waiting felt like it would take forever, as the security team barely even interacted with them, moving in with an up-armoured Unimog into the far end of the site through the mine's side entrance, which given the scale of the mine was at least half a mile away. And given that distance, they probably had no idea of exactly who they were....just two callsigns who had mopped the place up. Probably for the best, given Gabby and Tobias were basically hanging about for the moment being.
"Lionheart, Dunner, this is Sentinel Actual, we're the mine's security team. Cheers for clearing the contacts, I'm sure we can take it from here....wait, holy shit.... what the fuck did you guys do here!? Fuck, was that just the two of you?" The radio call was enough to make the Cornishman chuckle, as even through his blue-hued visor, Tobias's laugh could be seen by Gabby in response to the Australian security team lead's response, a proper bogan in the sense of the word- and it was no doubt an instant reply for to the platoon-sized troop no doubt finding now just what level of mess they had made.
"Yeah, that sounds like a you problem to deal with, Sentinel, not an "us" problem. You'll have breaches on the southern perimeter where whoever's left ran away to fix up. Recomend you deal with that first. Oh, and you should know who you're talking to. There is a lady on the comms. She will kick your ass if you continue to swear on the net. No kidding." Tobias added, giving a middle finger back to Gabby, laughing as he could barely hold back himself at that point in time, knowing he just had to annoy them all a little.

The laughter was interrupted by the thunder of the V22 in the distance, the tiltrotor coming in hot and transitioning into vertical flight as it swooped over the canopy, a far more elegant return than their arrival had been into the hotzone.
"Well, that's our minicab. Ladies first, yeah?"
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