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3 mos ago
Current Trying to get a new RP started so my friend can try out text rp if anyone is interested.

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When I say trench, I don't mean an actual modern trench-like what you see appearing in the 1860s, those were around, but usually only for artillery batteries, I mean like one of those trenches where you dig up behind you and place the dirt in front of you with either spikes/twigs/extra stuff to form a little embankment, which was usually enturned with redoubts, rountles, barrettes, and spikes. Which is usually when there is little to no time to create anything.

But going on about Elite troops, most elite soldiers are just shock troops or used as reserves in the last resort effort of a failing battle/something where a little bit of scare tactics could break the enemy. Napoleons three-guard units were rarely seen in battle fighting, most of the times they fired shots just out of viable range and marched forward in the smoke to scare the various troops on the other side. The two times I know they fought were Borodino and Waterloo where they were as effective as a better regulars unit. Well except waterloo when they were watered down a bit.
To be honest, most muskets and rifles of the time weren't that inaccurate, most of the time it is user error in where the shot goes as well people don't really want to shoot each other. Most people aim higher or lower than the men that they are supposed to be aiming, and during target practice, people usually hit targets regularly. But in battle, if you have two lines of regulars fighting, then it's only a quarter of the accuracy because of that reason. Yes, against untrained troops a few of the rank will fall and everyone will route, but they see a wall of smoke and the lack of enemies and decided its best to run when they aren't visible.

Also entrenchments have always been used, even in the field of battle. During this age of revolution, they were really put into full potential. Waterloo, the different riots in Paris, Yorktown, Borodino. Most of the time, the two armies would entrench and fight over several days while marching troops across an open field littered with bodies of previous waves of men while being fired upon. Sometimes they would meet the enemy out in the open if both armies sent out men at the same time or sometimes as a quick counterattack if their line won the skirmish.

Valence I Butler Model : Leaders of the World Voice and visual set (Winston)

Human or Machine or Both : Machine
If Machine what kind of machine (android, personal AI, robot) : Android
Age : 627 years
Physical description (Height, Weight, body shape, material) : 57 lbs, 5'5, slim and wired mainly plastic covers over thin rusted metal skeleton mechanics. Similar style to the IRobot style of android.
Skills/Coding/Implants :
AI -
Butler and Babysitting MK1 improvement codes.
World leaders quote and voiceset implant Circa 2054 w/ visual changer
House and grounds management implant MK1
House and ground tools physical improvements Mk2
Strengths :
Keeps a home, garden and garden nice, clean and beautiful.
Cooking the finest meals.
The best babysitter available for a young child
Tutor for any young teen
Weaknesses :
Rusty parts and a lot of unworking parts.
Little learning capacity/memory story
Personality Traits :
Takes the leaders of the world based on the preferences of the owner, serial #22134LotWe was originally purchased as a top model first-generation Butler AI system for a family in Frankfort, KY with five children. One newborn child, two four-year-olds, and a fourteen-year-old male with short term memory loss. Typically taking the voice pack of Winston Churchill, Valence I, or Winston is normally seen keeping the grounds and trying to do as much repair work on an old mid 21st century home outside of the major city, and the massive suburban buildings. He was constantly maintained and repaired through his time as well as given several updates on ram and processing power. He is fully capable of being independent, but he chooses to stay in the home he was originally left at as it is his home.
The home, though mainly dilapidated due to lack of building/cleaning/painting materials is still standing, and it is standing proud with as many visual effects from electronics planted through the grounds to make sure that it looks like it did some two hundred years ago. He is incredibly stubborn in the way he desires that it does not look terrible, and he will complete his job no matter what. He decides that he desires to help humans, as his humans loved him up until their deaths and their children's deaths. He typically allows humans to eat, trade, and temporarily stay at the home he maintains. He does have many synthetic friends, and does sometimes travel to them inside the nearby suburb. Sometimes, he allows them to stay in sleepovers, or if there are other similar models, he will reenact various speeches and talks with individuals, especially if they were highly documented.
History :
Created a year into the standard production of first butler bot, Winston was created in Mexico City, Mexico with the serial number 22134, the number represents (4 - Mexico, 30 - special edition, 22,100 - 221 unit created) Then imported to the United States in 2052 to Johnathan Webler, a business owner and family man outside of Frankfort, KY. They purchased a model online with the capabilities to handle several children, maintain a lawn with strict regulations, and a garden for vegetables and fruits. In his first year of being operable inside the household, there was an accident with the eldest child where he was hit by a car walking home from school. His head was busted when his forehead hit the edge of the sidewalk.
With this, the son had a problem learning and remembering, his frontal lobe was injured and he was prone to violent outbursts at times. Winston always seemed to keep him happy however, repeating the 'We Shall Never Surrender Speech' when he was having a violent outburst.

But Winston's entire family would eventually meet a similar fate to their son, their van got hit by a drunk driver. The Father and twins got killed instantly, and the newborn was killed instantly. The mother and the teen would later die before the reached the hospital. The home was still kept to the AI however as he was in the will and the last remaining member of it. The neighborhood they all lived in asked if he would act like a neighborhood tutor and babysitter, something the lonely AI would take up with joy. He expanded out of the world of Winston Churchill and started to try and perfect the others, and a second unit was purchased in the neighborhood, and the two would go back and forth with speeches and commentary between two figures of history. This would continue for a long while, even once the children and humans were gone or rare. But eventually, they were both unable to maintain themselves, and eventually, the other unit died. He would live on, getting parts from where ever he could to keep himself up, now he has a bit of a limp as well. He lived as well as he could, helping travelers and keeping his little home nice and clean, he made friends in the nearby suburb, primarily a building, one of the First AI systems that runs one of the most modern home facilities in what used to be the United States. There he would learn about many of the things needed to supply his home with the things needed to keep it standing.

@Xandrya@AvengerSpirit@Naril My laptop is consistent, and a new one on the way. But, I should have an NPC up shortly as well as a post soon.
okay, sorry about that my computer decided it didn't want to charge, but I got a little hotfix for that problem atm, so your character@Xandrya seems decent.
The Major looked over at the horseman and shook his head after his translator whispered in his ear, "We don't know how many men he has... baiting him could be suicide, and don't forget we seem to be more of a force awaiting allied reinforcements... or at least a strong mountain to try and stall him here."

He rested back into the chair he was in and looked at his translator. "having fought under the man as his subordinate with the man, we will be facing an enemy who will try to overwhelm us, he knows how to change his units orders to adjust to battle quickly."
He paused, "First he will decide where he will break us, and make sure when his guard, that he will march forward and that the enemy will run... they will take no losses. They are elite enough to where when I fought your people before Horse Lord that I didn't even need to duck in fear for being shot as the flank routed when we marched forward with them when the officer we are facing was ill."

He took a deep breath, "We turn his tactics of fear against them... we should make our stand just before the hill and build trenches and maybe a way for our cannons to be flush with the hill to shoot over them, let the recoil push them back into a state of protection. It will not protect us from his howitzers, but it should protect us from direct missile fire."

"Oh and tell the Halldorian that the militia is more as a baggage train for logistics... we should use them as surgeons, water bearers and such... let the ones with guns fight where they are needed or protect the guns, maybe build more entrenchments during the fighting if we aren't done preparing."

"But I say we try to dig ourselves in as much as possible... and reserving as of our elite soldiers as well as our horsemen, use your dragoons as quick response foot infantry... Use your Dusmane horsemen as shock troops or some flanking force if it presents itself through the first rank of national guardsmen he will most likely use to blunt our first attempts. Maybe when and if their first rank flees, we chase them down and use them as cover from their second wave and artillery. Force him to send his reserves forward while we try routing him... we can start digging ourselves in further forward in confusion, make him range his guns again, and waste whatever powder he has left. You are all thinking like the commanders that had to retreat... if it was you that I fought in the past, then I am sorry for the offense, but that is how you are thinking... He knows all of us; you are all great leaders whom he has studied before, I was one of his officers, he knows us... He knows our strengths, our weaknesses, how to make us tick and if he is like what I remember him to be we have to think outside of our boxes. But I know his, I fought with him against you... probably all of you, and I am sorry for rambling like a chastized bull. Still, we are thinking like the average officers at an academy using basic tactics that we have all learned before at some academy or from our fathers or peers..."

"We are going against a force we know little about, a commander who has either trained or beat probably all of us in battle, and who probably outnumbers us... We should be on the cautious side and adapt to what we are presented... not just rush into a field where we will by far superior artillery... and the forests where we don't know if his scouts are already there waiting for us while we sit here."
Sweet! Yea I was going to make a post asking if any of ya'll were still alive. But I'll look over it and probably make my own, we can figure out inventory and stuff later, but lets hopefullly get this going.


Isaiah Hussian the III




Isaiah stared at the drink as he slowly began consuming it. Wishing he had a mess hall compared to something other officers would get onboard the station, or at least being able to trade meals for solid and possibly better foods. He stared at the liquid as it was slowly lowering only able to tolerate so much of it in his mouth at once. It was like he tasted his mouth, not being able to clean himself due to the lack of items properly, but he hated the taste. His eyes closed as he pressed his lips to the cup once again, and he placed it down.

He stood, done with it before he turned to a messenger, some young lad like him who had been tasked with finding him and asking him to go to the medical room for an inspection. Why would they need to look over him, they shanghaied him, for what reason, probably just needed crew. He rolled his eyes and muttered to himself as he walked past the man, "Fine, yep gonna go see the doc for whatever reason..."

After a few minutes, he stopped and thought for a moment where was the damn infirmary, medical deck, whatever the ship had. He didn't know the ship that well, or at all, but what little signage or crew was near him helped. It might have helped if he had gained augmentation for some form of visual assistance, but he despised it as much as his parents did. Now, what he could go for is the beautiful landscape of his homeworld, lovely beautiful skies lacking the smog of hives, wide-open dunes, the eventual grasslands full of roaming beasts to ride upon, or even the few tropical forests that dotted the landscapes. Possibly he could have been sailing on a luxury yacht with some beautiful women on the outskirt. Still, no he decided he was going to be in the navy, not the PDF, not one of three regiments of guardsmen the planet kept reinforced and maintained.

He eventually found the doctor's office through his daydreaming and more or less annoying whomever he could see where he was going. Knocking on the door to wait for his 'appointment,' was it an appointment, or was it just an inspection.

((TBContinued in a cooperative))
sounds good! I may have a few NPC characters made as well.


Isaiah Hussian the III




Isaiah stared up as the lights flickered a bit in the cargo hold as he sighed deeply, moving throughout the different areas and counting as much as he could ever desire in such a messy bay. He took a peek down at his PDA as he smiled softly, rubbing the back of his head, "So many things on board... I bet there is plenty of contraband through these bays.." He thought to himself for a moment and shook his head; he was technically crew now, after being, would pressganged be the correct word?

He shook his head once again and took a deep breath, "they are lucky they had me looking over them, I am a kind soul I allowed them to get away with half of the items hidden, I bet there is some form of contraband on a heretical level my father thought I could never handle."

"Well, I am sure there is something decent to indulge myself compared to what is on the station here... I am sure I can find it, it's a traders ship, so there is something better to eat right, I mean. He trades, he's probably as rich as my father with something to fit his taste." he dreamed for a moment before leaving they bay he was in to find something else on the ship to do.




After a quarter-hour of trying to find his way up to the mess hall, he stared at the liquid the man was having. He had his dreamed ruining a moment's notice as he sighed deeply, no, the average meal of everyone else he ever knew on that station, it would be his life as well. He was saddened that not even officers got a better lifestyle on the station, but this shattered his hopes of eating well once again.

He took a deep breath and found himself at the counter waiting as well; maybe he could find a way at the next station to salvage his tastebuds. But now, this would be his life, eating liquid. After a few minutes he would find himself with the liquid in front of him in some random table near the center. He looked around to see if anyone else was having a hard time with it before he tried the liquid and slowly started on it. Dissapointed, he looked back up only to find some heresy, or at least some weird looking blue chick in the corner, and some guardsman leave. He looked back down at the liquid and sighed, it was making him see shit wasn't it, a blue chick, that shit has to be expensive for that coloration of skin.
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