FourtyTwo

King Arthur and the Knights of Camelot

Description:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/40/Arthur-Pyle_Sir_Gawaine_the_Son_of_Lot%2C_King_of_Orkney.JPG
(This picture is to be used predominantly as a vague guide- I'll alter a lot throughout my description.)
Gawain is relatively youthful looking, though a few signs of age are prominent. He has blue eyes and a moderate build, being 6"2 in height. He is moderately well built, and seems to show some scars from fighting, though not as many as a normal man-of-arms. He retains a thin beard, and has from time to time, a good mustache that seems well developed and curled..

Name: Sir Gawain Lottson
Age: 25
Personality: One of the most courteous Knights alive in Arthur's court (later), Gawain is renowned for being a symbol of Chivalry, being honorable in battle and in his actions. At least, on the surface. While he offers help to fellow rookie Knights, and is as loyal as any steed to the King, he does have a habit of being a little light-headed and drunk from time to time, and a little violent when he falls out of line. But most of the time, he is an honorable man, and is a trustworthy Knight of the Round Table- being the man to have by your side when the rain decides to pour and friends are more than a valuable commodity in a situation, but are the difference between life and death. He is a little aloof, but none the less, knows a firm line between right and wrong, and will die for that belief- with his character one that is repeatedly tested and tried in some ways, to question sometimes his rightful morally yet misguided attempts to do what is right for his King and his servants.

Backstory: Gawain was born to King Lot of Orkney, being a nephew of Arthur's and brother to Mordred and King Lot's other sons. He was quickly brought up to become a Knight, and along with his brother, Mordred, became a keen jouster and man-at-arms, being proficient in swordplay, whilst being young seeming to have a very good morality and showing Knightly traits from a young age. Though sidelined in favor of his brother as his brother seemed to be more capable as a fighter when younger and was far more influential, he still retained an influence of his own among a select group, and moved to England, staying away from his brother after a drunken brawl incited by Mordred that saw the two split apart and remain as enemies in both their view on the world and their actions. Gawain saw good, and wanted to be a better example, not seeking fame and power, but rather, simply the want to preserve Britain away from barbarian influences and stability- someone who would be the new King, and someone that perhaps, he was destined to follow in maintaining order and unifying Britain. Gawain is a particularly famous jouster, though he is more than capable in hand-to-hand combat and swordplay.

Equipment: Plate Mail Suit of Armor (Includes Wyvern figurehead atop helmet/on the red/blue cloth on parts of his armor, rather than purely exposed plate)
Poleaxe (Two-Handed), OR
Shortsword (1H)Rounded/Kite Shield (Wyvern Emblem)
Black Warhorse (Called Valiant, of a Bohemian Kladruber breed)
Jousting Lance (When Jousting)

Team Scimitar (an Over-the-Top Military RP)

http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/29503/posts/ooc

OOC is up!

Team Scimitar (an Over-the-Top Military RP)

Sometime in the near future, your character was ex-Special Forces, ex-Mercenary, ex-whatever. But they were picked, and thrown into Scimitar for good reason. They were more than just a regular operator, soldier, asset. They were far beyond that. Picked into a unit that defends from the threats that cannot even be taken by the world's most secure security agencies on as a sane solution, to make sure that the world sleeps tight and doesn't turn into a violent fireball. Oh, and of course, being a little less than conventional. To keep evil bastards away from innocent people, look further no from the Scimitar's edge.

I'll develop this page- this is just a quick job to let you post some CSes of what you have.

Name;
Age:
Apperance: (Written Description, sort of from what I gave, but you can alter it for your own needs and do whatever here. No anime here really, but you could have a picture if you really like to put your character's facial at least appearance across. This applies a little less for the heavies due to the fact that you know.. but meh. If you find something relevant, have it.)
Callsign: (Optional, but has to be suitable- as an example "Ghost" for someone like Antoine, not Bjorn, since the latter is as ghostly as a pile of cement. Though you can make it funny if you like.)
Skills: (What I've added, plus whatever you think would also make your character that special something)
History: (What'd they do before they became badasses in Scimitar.)
Personality (Optional)
Suit: (If Applicable)(Copy and Paste the link of the suit described from their concept here- I want to keep a certain look, though you can alter it. Perks and how good it defends and maybe even for the heavies, a nickname for it.)
Weapons: (As set out in the prior selection- though this can be changed if you like.)
Equipment (Yours to pick- but include your character's special ability, be it a shield or a pair of tomahawks.)
Hobbies: (Be it modelling, private mercenary work here and there or simply , or whatever floats your character's boat when he isn't busy being badass. It can cross over with what your character is into, ie. Antoine's skill with a wingsuit could be related to her use of it, or Bjorn's with weightlifting. Though your choice here- whatever you think your character would be into.

Name: Imran Malik
Age: 31
Apperance:
This
Imran is your average Sikh, but he is well built from years of training and service, being 6"6 and able to hold his own against most. He wears a dark navy blue Turban, which is not obtrusive to his role in combat and though hugely contrasting to his combat equipment, still makes him look meaner than anything, and keeps a mean, clean full beard. He has a tattoo of a Kirpan on his back, and though having a good number of scars on his back too, seems to be quite intact as a person.

Callsign: Raven

Skills:
Team Leader: Imran commands Scimitar, a mean feat considering how diverse and skilled the team is. He keeps them concentrated on targets, and really makes sure they hit hard against them, also being able to keep a firm hold on the situation at hand.

Tactical: Sort of, at least. Has a mind that can be one step ahead of even the finest enemy in terms of what they might be thinking next to do, though this does falter from time to time. He knows what he has at his capability, and will always put himself, and his team, to good use, always reading the situation well.

Versatile: Imran's tactical exoskeleton means that he can be quick when required, as well as stomaching one or two hits when needed, having an LMG, a MGL and a AT launcher at his will. He can take on a lot, though stealth of the Lights, or kicking-down-the-door type ferocity seen in the Heavies isn't where he specializes.

Brutal: With or without his Kirpan to hand, Imran is intimidating. The tactical exoskeleton, combined with his existing fighting methods, mean that he can really fuck someone up- with a combination of Sikh martial arts, streetfighting and Krav Maga, all reinforced by his exoskeleton's potential to exert a huge amount of force on an opponent making him potent in CQC. Though against Heavies, even he won't have much chance.

Rather Clever: Imran is able to speak, listen, read and operate with others in many, many languages, from English, French, German, Russian, Urdu, Mandarin Chinese, Punjabi, Pashto and even Icelandic, a trait picked up after spending multiple postings as a mercenary and becoming a very fast learner of language. He understands technology and machinery well, though not as much as Li, and out of operations, training or anything to do with Scimitar, he is a keen learner, in almost everything that broadens his knowledge, both militarily and normally, and while not telling his comrades in the team, is working on a PhD in Chemistry at the University of Oxford part time, compiling his papers whenever he has the chance and being a keen Chemist. His upbringing is responsible for much of this.

History: Imran Kafir Malik was born in Lahore, in the Punjab region of Pakistan, to a British-born Sikh mother and a Pakistani father who was a politician, and thanks to tutelage, and his wild ability to quickly string together ideas, meant he was very clever for his age. In fact, he was a child prodigy, one among hundreds of thousands as having a high level of inteligence, being hailed as one of the cleverest children in the district due to his results on various tests and subjects, and adopted Sikhism- being a reasonably firm believer most of his life, though it has waned a little.r He studied at the British School in Lahore, his mother telling him that children like him would be much better in the United Kingdom, to live and be educated. However, at the school, even with his intelligence, he never stood back and took shit from people- he ended up strangely beating up students whenever he was threatened, though he avoided expulsion on several occasions due to his status as a gifted child.

However, a tragedy struck when he was 12, almost weeks from leaving for the UK- a local gangster killed his father, and his uncle for refusing to give in to a local gang's demands. Imran was shocked and almost broken by this, his mother and him leaving right away, from the city that he loved and the people that he had known, to Bristol, England- based on her mother's English citizenship, Imran being allowed in. He carried on his education, and found a keen interest in the military, dreaming of becoming an officer in the British Army, despite the fact that almost everyone agreed that Imran was something very special in terms of his knowledge. By this point, he spoke five languages fluently, and could easily complete the work his teachers set him, whilst others struggled. He was given a scholarship by the British Army to pay for his Degree, in Chemistry at the University of Oxford, which was followed up by a Masters in Chemical Analysis, before he joined the military.

He went into the Royal Marines following Officer Training, being at first ridiculed for his "Oxford" background, his accent, and his religion, though quickly, he rose the ranks and became scarier, and scarier. He went into the Royal Marines Commando, and was feared for his brutality, as well as his sound head and vision that paired up with it that that made Imran and his unit so concentrated and vicious against an opposing force- channeling the rage and really bringing the best out his men in terms of combat capability. But something felt wrong, to Imran. He loved being a soldier, it was the one part of his mind that perhaps after his father had died, he had embraced from him- to fight for what he believed in. But he felt less and less inclined to Britain, and wanted to go back home, and make real change. He felt like he was undervalued, tasked with things that were not his endeavor- and was Honorably Discharged, at the rank of Major- commanding almost a full mechanized infantry company by the time he left, though he still fought side by side with his men, rallying them and showing considerable displays of valor, as well as

One year later, and Imran was hired by MI5, to perform operations in Pakistan, killing specific leaders of the Taliban, who were escalating activities- learning over his hiatus how to fly helicopters, how to create IEDs and how to fight beyond his Royal Marines and previous streetfighting in Lahore as a child. He was a lone asset- and found this was more of his thing. He felt better to be working on soil he felt at home on, and found his revenge on the man who killed his father and his uncle very quickly- the decapitated bodies of almost an entire gang finding it's way into the Indus River. Though sometimes at odds with his superiors, he was a vital asset in eliminating key Taliban officers, and after two years of operations spanning the globe, was brought into the Black Ops of MI5, far deeper and covert than simple operations to kill a few leaders. He was acquainted with tactical exoskeletons, and was sent into West Papua to kill a terrorist leader, again alone. After a botched intel agent revealed how Imran was coming in, he was left to die, and barely made it to Papua New Guinea after escaping captivity, barely managing to salvage himself from what had happened.

He moved back to Oxford, leaving the service, and wanting to at least figure out his own life instead of doing what he did in covert operations, or commanding a unit, or whatever he did. He just wanted to study, and he was accepted for a Part-Time PhD in Chemistry, studying a specific analytic method that he had concocted. He was contacted before the other about Scmitar, by a contact known as "Spectre", who then put the wheels into motion, and him in charge of the team, due to his extensive experience in combat, and his intelligence. Imran accepted for some reason beyond even his mind- the call to battle was too much, and compared to times past, it felt like it was very, very different- the technology and extent of what Imran began to saw made his mind set on doing this. It felt like his personal call to fighting, and to leadership of the right kind, rather than menial commanding.

He got the requested gear and more, and was simply told this:
"You will be contacted to mobilize when the time is right, and you will stop the world trembling in it's wake. You will see enemies you thought didn't exist, and even the members of your team will be far more capable than you thought a human could be. You are the tip of the iceberg- and the world's real peace lies on you and your men's shoulders."
With that, Imran knew that whatever he was in, he was in deep- and that upon meeting his team, that Spectre wasn't lying.

Personality: To be mostly developed- but Imran is confident, and sometimes quite cocksure. He doesn't mind outsmarting anyone that he talks to, though he won't do it unless he is angered enough. He is sometimes socially retracted when busy studying, but is mostly open, and has a good morals. He has a vague Pakistani accent, and can be heavily accented when he likes- though he usually sounds quite English, hanging around with a lot of Oxford students after all- being less of a rogue and moreover a little controlling. Though he can be sarky and a little laid back when he feels like it.

Suit:
(I've decided to change the armor that Imran wears, to have a better feel for his class- the previous was far too bulky. Partly in inspiration of the newly announced COD, partly due to the fact that I think it's far more suitable for his assault role)

Armor
Imran has a tactical exoskeleton with a good level of protection, though it is nothing ridiculously overpowered. He uses a Digital camoflage, as well as not usually having a helmet unless in exceptional circumstances, he must. While only a prototype, and offering no insane advantages, it gives him a little more disproportionate strength in lifting, moving and protection. Carrying a Mk48 is like holding an MP5 to him now, as well as being able to run 100m in 11 seconds fully equipped, means that he can haul some serious ass for his size, being suited well to assault rather than support. The suit includes a tactical overlay, and a few other neat features- adding to Imran's existing strength and allowing him to carry quite a lot of kit. Though Imran could only just go on in the event of an EMP or the suit's disablement, it would significantly reduce much of the functionality and reduce his potency. The suit is well protected against small arms when required- though Imran doesn't openly run into bullets like the Heavies do.

Weapons:
Mk48 MOD 0, 7.62mm LMG
M32 MGL, 40mm Grenade Launcher(Carried on back)
Chiappa Rhino, .357 Magnum Revolver
MBT LAW, Anti-Material/Anti-Tank Launcher(Carried on back)

Equipment:
Kirpan (Sikh Religious Sword) (at his hip)
Bowie Knife
3x Cluster Grenades
3x Flashbangs
Various Smoke Grenades
Various Flares
NVGs (Mounted on Turban- Oh Yeah.)

Hobbies: Studying for his PhD (Lots Of), Krav Maga Training, Volunteering at his Sikh Temple, Mountaineering (Climbed K2 once at the age of 25 on a holiday)

---

Name; Svetlana Sakharova
Age: 23
Apperance:
(Face Only)

Svetlana, in a nutshell, is too much to fathom and in some regards, not real to some to think of. She is 7"6 in height, simply towering almost anyone in the team, and making the smaller members view her as more of a tree than a human being. She has a fairly regular yet beautiful face for her giant's body, and is very muscular, her arms and legs like treetrunks and looking more suitable to be made in a factory than a womb. She really looks as if she could tear a man limb from limb- though her breasts and her rear are also on the fairly large side, and hard to cover, whether this is Svetlana's choice or natural is unknown. The only person that really looks anything similar is Bjorn- and is a good counterpart to her immense size, beauty and looks. Her voice is a relatively scary heavily accented Russian one- being not too deep for women of her size, yet not light either. It booms when it needs to, and it sounds like it takes men into insatiable lust when she is on the lighter end of her spectrum. This is a woman of which is almost any soldier's nightmare and dream, in one package. Usually the former. Out of the suit, her curves are far more visible, and she usually wears jeans and a long-sleeved shirt only wearing heavily armored skintight clothing that somehow doesn't sit right when she takes on stealthier work not involving the armor. She still looks undeniably insane in any perspective then, her beautiful face, curves, combined with her blonde hair and blue eyes making her enviable indeed to men and certain women.

Callsign: Black Eagle
Skills:

-Tank-Svetlana, when wearing Babushka, is walking thunder. She can take 12.7mm and even 40mm shots, small arms pinging off her suit like nothing. Taking cover behind her is a good tactic- because she can usually reply to the fire she is taking with more than enough of her own. Bullets don't work against her- not unless you know the underside of her rucksack is full of vulnrable 40mm rounds that could go up. The fact that she carries a GMG on her person, as well as an LMG turned Automatic Shotgun, means that she can make several flavours of human spaghetti back towards the enemy fire, being almost also impossible to take out by CQC or disarmament methods (Throw a punch at her, she'll kick your head off.)

-Adaptable- Svetlana is a tank, when suited-up and a Heavy. But out of the armor, she is still incredibly hard to take out. It would take almost a whole magazine of an AK to stop her dead without body armor, and she is very, very hard to kill indeed- almost comedically. This, combined with the fact that she has some level of stealth-training when unarmored means that she can silently kill people with her breasts, her AS VAL or Machete them from foot to head when required- though she isn't as good as Antoine. She can also use a wingsuit to some extent, almost as good as Antoine as well but needing a parachute or her the luck of her breasts to stop her splatting.

-Ovaries of Titanium- Unlike Bjorn, Svetlana has less concentrated fury and rage, but can physically disarm a Heavy either in armor or without it, and engage in CQC combat. While a Light may be able to sneak around and do something crafty, there is little to nothing you can do most of the time when there's an almost impenetrable giant of comparable size to the Heavies tearing anything in their way a new asshole. Her Systema, combined with a certain type of tactics, means that she engage in sustained CQC with a similar brute and usually win. She has killed one once by sitting on his exposed face after taking his helmet off, cutting his air supply and slowly killing him. It's a hell of a show when you see it happen.

-Explosives Specialist- She has a certain type of specialism with explosives. She has lots, and lots of C4 on her person, to detonate a certain point with. She has hidden it of course, to stop her from being blown apart if shot- and can pretty much take a small destroyer out with it. A couple of Thermite, Semtex and materials to make IEDs join it.

-Cunning- Svetlana is fucked up in the head, but she has a very, very cunning mind. Similar to Imran, but however, far more wily. She is a show-woman when armored, but by no means does she charge and expose her back. She'll very precisely know when and what she can take, but knows full well that it takes more than conventionality to get things done.

History: Svetlana was born in northern Russia, in Sevenomorsk. She was abnormally large- and born to a military father, a Colonel in the Russian Naval Infantry. She did well in school, but by the age of 14, was 6"8. Simply immense, and she was from a young age, a incredibly physically active woman. She lifted weights, she lifted concrete blocks, she pulled cars, she was like Mariusz Pudzianowski, but female and Russian. This, when she was under 17. She did very well in school, aspiring to follow his father, himself a fairly large man but Svetlana's size simply eclipsing him. She found that nobody picked on her- and boys, while many did revel in the idea of going out with her, found that Svetlana was far more than enraged when men cheated on her. Svetlana became a lesbian in her late teens, finding that boys were only out for her beauty and her sheer amusement, and nothing else. Women liked her for her personality, though she never found the girl for her. She won Russian Strongwoman competitions early on in her life, and found that her attractive looks also gained her many opportunities in certain magazines. Pornography was something she rejected, even of lesbian type due to her not wanting to become some sex object and exploited for her rather open methods, but specific modelling interested her, the young female giant being a particular...interest. She had to give both up for her Officer Training at 18 in the Russian VDV, where she led Airborne Assaults and rose to the rank of Captain. She left at this rank at the age of 21, somehow this high in rank by this very young age for a female officer- stemming from her ability to be personally involved in fighting, as well as having a certain way of commanding her troops.

She left to take a hiatus, taking a few months off off, doing other sorts of things. She heard about mercenary work in time- and found herself quite quickly in business, adapting a very tailor-made version of combat, taking part in Strongwoman competitions and refining herself further. She learned how to use a wingsuit, how to take unorthodox weapons that were perhaps better for her frame of fire, and annihilate forces impossible for a single woman. After several operations, in which she single-handedly took out impossibly accessible targets in global hotpots, Svetlana met a heavily armored foe, called "Spartacus" , in Northern Kyrgystan- one that was to set her own course.

Her objective to take him down was simple- and watching him murder locals, as a lone mercenary working for the country's government on a contract, shocked her. She snook up on the man, and disarmed him, quickly pinning him with her advanced Systema, her size and strength, left him without a chance. The Columbian 7"0 giant then realized his fate, as Svetlana chlorformed him in time, and took him, while suited up, to a safehouse. There, she tortured him by several undisclosed Russian torture methods, none of which involved Natalie breaking his legs in the armor and dragging him through a river to be actively Waterboarded by the flow. He found out about the rest of his organization, and what it did. It really opened Svetlana's eyes, and in some ways, she knew what would come. Some killing later, Svetlana realized that whatever he had, she could have more. She was stronger than the puny man, and had friends in the right places. And after killing pretty much everyone in his small group, a few other heavies and technicians, she got her own will manifested. Through a shit-ton of money she had made in basically working as a cleaner in ratholes of the world, either by taking a wingsuit, her Machetes and her pair to the fight- or gunning down entire areas (sometimes even walking back to her rendezvous with several bullet wounds), she worked on making her own, an early version of "Babushka"- partly being made up of an abandoned Russian DARPA-styled project, and Svetlana's funding and reliability- promising to work for the Russian government in Wet Work, operations that needed a freelancer like her. She performed a few operations for the Russian Intelligence as a freelance mercenary, being impenetrable and a one-woman army, paradropped into hostile zones that then were made no longer hostile, with forces numbering in the hundreds standing little chance against her almost impenetrable armor and fierce determination, Svetlana's strength perhaps put to use. But she didn't like the anger of some of her ops- such as killing Peruvian soldiers, for no other reason than some sort of diplomatic lesson. She was about to run AWOL and make dammned sure that if any MVD or Spetsnaz asset followed her, they'd be paste- though something changed, and it involved Scimitar. Imran had enough on her to know she was walking dynamite, and told her to join his unit. She readily accepted, Babushka undergoing several upgrades, Svetlana more open to the idea of what the team does. She still models and here and there, takes up Freelance Mercenary work, to add some more funds. She quickly fell for Antoine, keeping it hidden from her that she would want a relationship with her.

Personality (Optional)
Suit: "Babushka"
Heavily armored, the Babushka Heavy Combat Armor, as Svetlana coined it's name, is at a sight to see on top. It fits Svetlana like a glove, suppressing her curves yet being distinctly feminine from Bjorn's. It is impervious to pretty much all small arms heavy fire, only 12.7mm fire making her perhaps stumble a little. The suit's outer layer is at least two inches worth of titanium and specialized composites resistant to huge force, and what is under that that makes up about another four inches worth of material is classified- though one can guess it is a hybrid of graphene and further classified composites. The visor has a FLIR, UV, NVG and IRNV system, the helmet being sometimes detached altogether by Svetlana when she wears a Boonie Hat simply to give a far greater..well, you know. Shooting the back of her helmet with sustained heavy fire can disable the optics temporarily, and force her to take her helmet off, until she can get it back operational again- with a Sensor Array mounted on the right shoulder that provides almost a 360 degree scan of enemies, even behind cover, also being able to be taken out to restrict her peripheral knowledge from flankers and hidden targets. The armor can be taken out also by shooting the bottom of her large ammunition rucksack that hold almost enough 40mm rounds to level a small city, though this hasn't happened yet. Lastly, her armor is lined with comfy suede within, and she has her initials inscribed on the neckbrace. When she gets shot at, make no mistake, it isn't a good idea. She might not be able to run in the armor, or exactly be poignant and quiet, but you will need more than bullets to take her out for the count.

Weapons:
HK GMG, 40mm Heavy Automatic Grenade Launcher (Rucksack Fed)
PKP Pechneg (Adapted to fire 12 Gauge Shells), Box-Fed Shotgun
2x MP412 REX, .357 Magnum Revolvers

Alternate:

-OTS-14 Groza (Silenced)
-2x MP443 Grach (Silenced)
-Crossbow
-Various Throwing Knives

Equipment:

Lots of C4 (Hidden for obvious reasons)
CS Gas Canisters
Several oversized Frag Grenades
Smoke Grenades
Enlarged Spetsnaz Machete (Interesting Fact- it's like a Bowie Knife, but larger, scarier and slashable.)

Hobbies: Underwear Model, Wingsuit Jumper, Various Athletics, Mercenary Wet Work, Diving, Strongwoman Competitions

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

Natalie looked over to Victor, as she checked her kit was secured to her suit, the plane underfoot moving significantly, as it clambered upwards, the huge cargo bay now empty apart from two giants encased to the hilt in armor. She checked the parachute on her front, making sure the straps and all were secured as she secured herself into the line, looking back at Victor.
"I put a florescent skull and crossbones on my black parachutes for this run, just so you know what to look for. I was thinking of going all out and having a picture of my breasts between the two parachutes, because the parachutes are circular and perhaps give an idea of what lies beneath as we came down, but I don't want you to get confused and cut your cord to aim for them and take me out. Perhaps on a training jump, you'll see a big pair of circular round things below you, and you'll just be tempted." Natalie said, giggling further through their private comms, as she looked over at Victor, looking as he set up.
"Damn...good conditions I suppose, I could have just used the helium suit but it's far too hot in terms of fire, and the wind would probably slam me into the side of a mountain. Cordite, that sniper team, should deal with the AAA when they come in, but we're still far away from where they'll be." Natalie said, as she adjusted her visor, as she activated a track, just to hype her up through her voice activation, unheard by the others due to the fact her helmet and visor were down. Her distinctive red Spetsnaz beret was on the top of her faceplate, and the Trophy System also sat on the back by her neck atop the two tanks, a compact device that could take out RPG fire from the rear and sides. Her suit's motion sensors were working, in case she was being flanked, and her rear was simply ready to go and light up a fire.

Twenty minutes later, and the door opened. They were low level, and Natalie engaged her blue-tinted NV view, being useful for distinguishing things that a green infrared view didn't pick up. Viewing the world in blue gave very good depth, but less in terms of picking out heat signatures- where red, almost Red-Hot FLIR was awesome at that, or green NV was better for the night, and the regular spectrum for all else. Through the thick visor, she saw enough of the world to tell that they were really jumping into hell. A pair of F35s roared past, of the USAF kind, and AAA fire lit up the sky, past the C17.
"Two minutes!" The jumpman said to the two normally, as Natalie checked her link on the line.
"God...I really want to let go Victor...the chutes activate about ten seconds after freefall, I'll fucking go half a mile off the LZ if I do..." Natalie said over their comms, holding it in on her strained face. In contrast to most scared skydivers, who thought they'd crap themselves, Natalie was genuinely concerned that if she let her wind go, it wouldn't be anything good for them.
"Got it. That fire is fucking so innacurate..." Natalie said back to the jumpman on the regular comms, as she looked over at Victor again, and then out the window, as suddenly the plane rumbled, almost knocking the jumpmaster off his feet.
"I take that back...shit, want to reconsider two minutes?" Natalie said, checking the GPS encased in a thick bulletproof screen on her forearm of her gauntlet, as she saw the fire still erupt all over the place. They were too low- this was fucking ridiculous, Natalie thought to herself. If they had the right intel, they'd know that AA was heavy in this AO, and while it wouldn't exactly take them out, Natalie just hoped that "wouldn't exactly" meant that they wouldn't get a direct hit of flak. They were far off, but she knew that they were the only things keeping the C17 from pulling out.
"Just hold out, you two, we're almost to the LZ...90 seconds!" The jumpmaster said again, as Natalie looked at Victor.
"Fuck, this one is going to be hot then...shit, you'll have to bombard them when the chutes go, should use the optics and see if you can send some direct 25mm fire on top of them. My flames won't do much, it'll just make us a great target for anything AA based, so I'll keep it to a minimum till we come close." Natalie said, as she looked over, waiting. The seconds felt like hours, as the Flak fire continued, and thirty seconds was yelled by the Jumpmaster. The door was fully open, and below, the tops of the snowy mountains could be seen. They were far from Mount Haras, in terms of kilometers, Natalie couldn't remember. But this had to be done first, and it was going to be a surgical assault. 20 seconds. Her mind reminded itself what was the order of the day. Kill every, single, motherfucker. Torch them, gut them, blow them apart, fill them with steel, whatever was needed. Maybe find some intel, but it wasn't priority, not here. They wouldn't keep much, but if they did have something, Natalie made a mental note it could be useful. Eliminate the local AA threat, probably in the compound, and then get as far from there. To get safely extracted by the Chinook, Natalie knew they had 5km to go, downhill but a hard 5km it would be, in deep snow and armor that weighed more than her, along with a parachute that significantly would burden her down to be repacked for a just-in-case. Then they had to get to Haras, and by the time they arrived, it would be the early daylight. And daylight for aerial assets was a dangerous thing, unless they had dedicated weapons systems and could tear anything a new asshole.
"10 seconds to green!" The jumpmaster said, as Natalie looked back at Victor.
"Well...this isn't something we haven't done before, but I've not seen that much flak before....we'll make it or die trying Victor." Natalie said, as she looked forward, seconds taking too long to pass. Suddenly, the light went green, and Natalie surged forward, moving towards the ramp with such a pace that it was indistinguishable.
"Shit, we got a SAM lock, dumping flares!" Natalie heard from the pilot over the radio, as she was too late to think about stopping, coming loose from the line and now entering freefall, as she looked back at the C17 dumping an industrial load of flares, the orange spewing from the rear and lighting up the sky. And her. Natalie cursed, as she suddenly realized, that in the movement, only around a second had passed, and she had lost all her thoughts on one thing.

Her ass literally went up like a gas rig, and a huge blue-orange flame emerged, Natalie unable to stop the torrent as she felt physically pushed forwards, the ripping noise echoing through the open radio as she looked over her neck. She cursed loudly, as her parachutes automatically activated at the interval, the huge pack on her chest violently exploding with two round parachutes, black in color and with a skull and crossbones atop them slowly unfurling and stopping her in her tracks, as Natalie swore again, watching the C17 fly higher and keep dumping flares, all the way as it passed from sight. It had lit them up with the flare dump, and had done nothing for them. Natalie knew Victor had practically jumped a second before, and would be above, and somehow, she was pleased to see the Mohican's chutes open up right above hers, albeit just as violently. He must have tracked Natalie in that time somehow, perhaps compensating for the fact that she had let her rear open up.
"Shit...I see them below, they look pissed...just open up with that GMG, I see the AA guns on the edge of that compound, you can zero in- looks like they haven't picked us up yet." Natalie said over the comms, checking her parachutes, the two skull and crossbones ominous atop them as the chutes were almost uncontrolable, but stable. She opened her visor, letting some fresh air in, and observing the violence of the AA fire. It had mostly stopped, but some of it filled the air, the flak rounds flying past. They were diving into hell it seemed, and though Natalie had no offensive capability for now, though when she came closer, she'd flame up some poor fuckers. Checking her two nozzles, she pulled them out, activating the nozzles as she looked up at her two circular parachutes, as she knew they were coming in hot.
"That view is so good...that AA is lighting the fucking night sky, but we'll be crippling it over the night with whatever SF might be in the mountains too. Remember to bring your chute down and keep it with you vaguely- we'll repack them later, so just stuff them into the bag and move up when we hit the floor." Natalie said, putting her visor back down, as she shifted her weight backwards, the two parachutes diving down a little, and letting her at least clear Victor's line of sight, as she knew that it was going to be a hot landing. AK fire were now pouring upwards towards the two, as Natalie knew that hell's dispensary was coming from Victor, the two Mountains coming down under giant black old-school parachutes, Natalie reminded much of her own bosoms when looked up at the two hemispherical, load-bearing parachutes that brought her titanic weight to a standstill almost in the air, the wind carrying the two a little over towards the base now as they were coming in hot.

Heavy Nazis, Heavy Guns- Restarted (ONL and kingkonrad)

(I do want to end this scenario quite quick- so my next post is probably going to be a transition.)
(Nebelwerfer- because it werfs Nebels. They call it a smokescreen launcher..you'll see.)
(Also, could Viking free-run? Sorry, just this realization that Titanfall ALSO ripped off Viking, because you know, thruster pack, parkour, etc.)

Tyrant moved in, heavy and hard in his footsteps, as he kept up the fire. Bullets ricocheted, as he took out a whole group on a balcony inside a warehouse, the crates of disassembled rifles and even an artillery piece non-functional. The place came apart, as he moved through, sweeping quick and fast, slugging out 40mm rounds wherever he saw fit. A whole fireteam was torn apart in a couple of rounds, Tyrant going static as the seven foot beast churned out fire, before moving up and switching to the two automatic Luger C96 pistols on his gauntlets, just to take out a pair of enemies in a confined space. One even tried to bayonet charge Tyrant, as the beast in the black armor saw the few rounds hit him, but do nothing, the caliber not enough to stop an adrenaline pumped soldier emerging from a container. He knew he wouldn't get knocked over, so he wanted to kick back- and that was what he did. A sharp kick from his steel boot sent the man down, as Tyrant executed him, before taking his 40mm weapon again. Moving back out, he kept sweeping the warehouse, quickly coming at the other end.
"Yeah, looks good. Jump down if you want. We're almost done here. Jump down, stick on the ground for the moment or be an easy target." Tyrant said, as he moved through the warehouse's far door, towards where he saw British soldiers running, and JU-87 G2 planes coming in, strafing the ground in the harbor, as Tyrant helped the pilots take out the runners, who were moving to cover behind a wreckage of a Churchill tank. They were quickly torn to bits, as Tyrant moved up, looking to the ships in the further end of the harbor, as he took up a defensive position by the
"Okay...Victoria, you receiving?"
"Got you loud and clear, Tyrant."
"We're in position to co-ordinate your fire- what exactly have you got?" Tyrant asked, as he took out another fireteam behind a set of sandbags, their Bren gun ricocheting pointlessly off Tyrant's armor, as he hardly felt it inside the steel suit of armor as it cut out midway in it's long bursts, the gunner sent to the floor by a large 40mm round going off feet from him.
"Artillery, Rockets or Stuka runs are all yours. Just give me the call."Victoria replied, as he kept an eye out, the former being 75mm worth of several barrages, the middle being Nebelwefer rounds, and the latter being the obvious solution.
"Start up with the first two, then bring the Stuka pilots in to finish any survivors. We have almost defeated them wholly here- what do we do from here?"
"Just hold out, you'll be spearheading the rest of the town, but you're to sit tight and await reinforcements so that we can reinforce our position. We cannot strech our lines too thin, or you'll end up in a bad part of town where even your life expectancy Tyrant, wouldn't be that high. Got the co-ordinates?" Tyrant heard, as he looked over to Victor, before back at the ships in front on the far side.
"They should be sent."
"Got them. Wait for the fireworks." Tyrant heard, as he looked over to Viking, before looking back. Firing down range, he sent a barrage of rounds down the harbor, taking out a few runners that were moving towards the other side, and out of the docks, the sporadic 40mm rounds detonating around many and causing dust and dirt to be kicked up, the desert city's harbor now a ruin almost.

What sounded like hell rained down, as the Nebelwerfers hit first, the rockets demolishing one ship, as suddenly, the immobile destroyer's ammunition holds went up, followed by about half the dock, which crumbled apart into the sea. They lit up another warehouse, the explosion immense from the barrage and the ammunition it hit, as even Tyrant was half-knocked aback, as he watched the 75mm fire rip through another ship on the end of the dock, and almost completely destroy whatever was left here.
"Holy fuck...that was some serious fire!" Tyrant said, indicating to Viking to follow up, with the giant himself.
"Let's go finish whatever is running now, there can't be anything!" Tyrant added, as he moved up, past the destroyed Churchill, and towards where the dock had been bombed, and all munitions had truly hit.

Team Scimitar (an Over-the-Top Military RP)

Everyone still in for this? I'll get the OOC up soon, since I don't think we can get that one last character- though I'll keep looking.

Team Scimitar (an Over-the-Top Military RP)

Bump? One more character space to be filled!

Task Force Hephaestus

Sure- I can do it, but it won't be too much to learn at first.

Task Force Hephaestus

I really hope Queen does- she's next up in the list. On that actually Advanced, you could post something now in regards to Mikhail on the mainland of Altis regrouping with Antos if you're up for it, though it's your call really.

Team Scimitar (an Over-the-Top Military RP)

You could have Svetlana, though I'd be willing to change that character quite a bit if you'd like.