Avatar of Jeep Wrangler
  • Last Seen: 1 yr ago
  • Joined: 11 yrs ago
  • Posts: 3696 (0.93 / day)
  • VMs: 12
  • Username history
    1. Jeep Wrangler 3 yrs ago
    2. ████████████ 11 yrs ago

Status

Recent Statuses

3 yrs ago
Current Do what I do and write two novels and then have like 4 people read them B)
1 like
3 yrs ago
We've got a certified "Bozo Down" today
3 yrs ago
Also why's everyone getting so pressed about writing perspectives like dude just go write a book lol
3 likes
3 yrs ago
Might want to pick it back up before I put it in my wallet
3 yrs ago
40k fans are like the "Can he beat Goku" guys of Science Fiction
1 like

Bio

Literally 1984 by Jorjor Well

Most Recent Posts

I might be interested in this. It all depends on the plot and specifications
@LetMeDoStuff Seems we're getting along fine, might do another post in a bit, I'll wait a bit to see if anyone will post, don't wanna hog all the screen time if ya know what I mean.


Mmhmm, I understand. Plus we have to wait until everyone is ready to fully progress.
Everyone else had begun to step within the casings of their drop pods. It was strange, being sent out like this. When he was a child, before his careers started to engage in insurgency, Iowa had looked up towards the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers that bared the UNSC banner. They were extreme to any child's eyes. Anyone who fell from space and survived were considered heroes, pod or no pod. Fighting with intense skill to suppress insurgencies, invasions of other species and native lifeforms on new planets; they were living a dream only a kid could think up of. It was almost nostalgic for him to place his feet down into a pod of his own. Yet, at the same time, it was melancholic...

Iowa had killed humans alike, only for what he'd been brought up knowing. He had learnt to fear the pods, if he saw them falling down from the clouds above, it brought nightmarish visions of death and destruction; they were the very symbolic recreation of horror and brutality. Their tactics were unmatched at first, and it took years of practice and evasion to eventually be considered fit for counter-assaulting their strengths in small numbers. Seeing him step inside one made him hesitate, both filling him with a sense of pride and fear of what he'd become. But then again, those who surrounded him were Ex-ODSTs, at least a few of them were. Seeing their hardass presence was nerving, making him know that he had to love and hate them both at the same time.

"Please step into the drop-pod, Agent Iowa. You are delaying yourself and yourself only." Iowa shook his head and hit the helmet he tightly wore. His armour wasn't considered bulky, and he had to make sure it wouldn't be. His AI was speaking the truth, he was only delaying himself. His team didn't care about him as a person, only as him as a soldier. And for his own personal sake, only he was affected by the outcomes of his hesitation. And so, he stepped inside.

Shortly after the door slid shut and he had taken his place, the pod shot out, and the view of pods being flung from the underside of the craft began to present itself in front of him. His head rattled gently from side to side as the ground began to hurtle closer and closer. He looked onto the screening, used for communicating to other pods.

"Agent Washington, I'm going to have to adjust course to ensure I land in the right zone...Just pray I don't whack into you by accident." He smirked to himself, finally getting that sense of humour back into his system. The pod gently directed through the crowd of pods towards where he was supposed to be going, before finally slamming into the ground with a vast impact. "Fuck...Don't see myself getting used to these anytime soon."

His Heads-Up-Display began to flicker onwards as the sensor and armour ratings flashed on screen. A small box where Sigma's icon appeared in the top right, indicating that they had a connection. It was at least the up-most importance that the box remained there, as their neural connection would remain positive for as long as it did. Sigma was an important asset to his time as a Freelancer, so Iowa might as well have taken it for granted. His companion for this team, Utah, spoke to him.

"Ready as can be. Let's get this show on the road with a few little surprises." The two moved onwards towards their objective, getting into position. Utah had taken point, looking at the seemingly worrying amount of guards that were stationed on this post. Iowa even peeped his head around the corner from behind Utah, just to be clear of how many there really were. It confused him, but he decided to live in the moment and meet the expectations of a loud show.

"Hey, Utah..." From his hardened utility casing built into his armour's leg segments, he drew a small device clearly of an explosive material. "Washing Machine did say we can make as much of a distraction as possible...How about we take it up a notch from expectation? Who knows, we might distract the entire planet-surface as well."

When he had gotten her attention, he scanned the area with his eyes, looking for something that could provide an explosion big enough to grab the attention of some. A small, practically empty in the terms of guards, vehicle resting spot was almost adjacent to their position. Inside, from the looks of things, were a few small utility vehicles, one with a anti-personnel turret loosely locked onto the back of it. As Iowa ran for the side door, still concealed by whatever shadows that were available, he quickly opened the door and tossed it inside like a Frisbee. Wherever it slid in that vehicle shelter, it would definitely catch most of what was inside the small shed-like structure. He ran back, and held out a small handheld device...A trigger detonator.

"If you'd like to do the honour, Agent Utah." If his helmet were off, a thick grin would be present, as he waited. It was her time to trigger it once the others were in position.

@sMoKe I'm here, I'm just unsure of what to do.
@NytefallWhere abouts are the Distraction team landing?
I'll try to get a post out tomorrow. No promises, but I'll see how my time management goes.
I'm concerned about the stability of the RP. Is this still going to continue for much longer?
Iowa had departed from the briefing room as soon as he had the chance to. He didn't want to hang around members who might've picked up on his questions and misinterpreted their meaning or tone. Making enemies within the only organisation protecting him from the death-trial meant a lot of serious difficulties would come ahead. But some of these soldier-like aspects were very difficult to take in sometimes. Besides that, they were about to go on their first assignment, hunting down the very same people he would once fight amongst. Well, this group in particular weren't where he was from. None of the high-command individuals resembled any ranking members during the time of Iowa's presence and they would likely have handed it down to younger siblings, or cousins of Iowa. That being said, Iowa's father-like must've still been in command. But these were regular insurrectionists. Violent fighters, he knew the sort.

They were given, shortly after his departure, the call to move towards the ships and prepare for their mission's dawn. It was tense, in a way, but Iowa didn't make it a 'double-time' movement. Not that he was late, but Iowa didn't run there fully. His light jog gave him time to think. Thoughts like these were being picked up by Sigma...Sigma wasn't always one to agree with what was thought.

Eventually, Iowa reached the dropship, slipping up the deployment ramp and into the garrisoned groups of Agents who were also partaking in on the mission. It was risky, and shifty, that he decided to sit closest to the least crowded seating area. Not all of the agents were on board of course, and anyone who'd want to talk to him could easily sit beside him and strike up conversation, but that didn't stop Iowa from taking the seat there quickly. Some of the talk between specific agents worried him as such, making him feel like he was once again on the wrong side of the war. Violent talk, unforgiving language...It sent a shudder down his spine. He wasn't aware Sigma was taking notes of all of his responses. As such, he only gave a simple nod to respond to whoever was taking names of who arrived, not wanting to mess up and say something wrong.
I honestly guess this is dead. No one has posted or even peeked their heads for the past week.


Just keep on waiting. I've been unable to reach a computer until now because my leg is still fucked. I guess it's a bad time.
Guys, I'm back. Where is everyone?
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