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'll probably go ahead and post tonight or tomorrow to move Hotaru and Tanner to the boats, and then do the Armored Titan post once everyone is confirmed to be in the area.

Also, if anyone wants to fish @LordVoldemort out of the river, you're more than welcome to.


I'll fish my boy out of the river. Tall bois gotta stay together.
@Sola The CS is done, if you need any guidance or whatnot.


I will be making a post hopefully tomorrow or today. The first is more likely however.

'ere we go, ladies and gents. Time to kill some alien meat bag freaks.


Heeeeeeeeeeeell yeah...

Unless we get killed but y'know...








Don't let hope slip away...


Welcome to the year 2094 during the years of technological superiority and political chaos. It has been thirty three years since the end of our time approached, one that came with an iron fist, and humanity has been brought onto its knees for one final century of struggle and deterioration. In that time, technology has surged and the once great connections between all that formed the Commonwealth of Man were now but a splinter of their former self. Chaos, depravity and the loss of life became common knowledge to men, women and children worldwide when they came down from the gloomy heavens and into the arms of Earth's once peaceful cradle. Conquers of many planets before, systems untold of ever existing, the Ukon menace was to make Earth its biggest plaything in all of its existence. No one saw it coming and the warning signs were only picked up weeks before the disaster hit. All understanding of their formation, anatomy and technological brilliance was left unknown until the last minute, where millions were to die within the first months of contact. Some described them as a hivemind, others as a parasite that fed off of others, but everyone agreed that they were an enemy that was destined to annex the very foundation of human life.

By the time most of the mainland was taken, many great powers fell into the clutches. The United States was split into states instead of a single body, fighting desperately for survival when the Commonwealth struggled to hold its own borders. Manpower was required and citizenship by service soon became the doctrine of all abiding nations. Every sourced currency was instantly pumped into research and development, quickly attempting to strive for machines, weapons and vehicles that could combat the threat that just kept spreading. Nation after nation fell, the Commonwealth saw itself breaking into fractions that soon formed their own alliances. Many places were quick to equip themselves with the new era of technology built for defence, offence and tactical superiority. And in the year 2069 the Goliath was entered into the field of war. Goliaths changed everything, for good.

Built from the ground up, they were designed to be menacingly formidable in supporting infantry battalions during their defences across the world. However, within their first few weeks of combat the Commonwealth soon realised how important they were to destroying the largest of Ukon adversaries. More time, attention and research was sent towards the Goliath Development Programme and soon enough a huge variety was constructed over the years. Designations were starting to branch out of the same foundation model before they eventually became a specialised unit of their own. The Commonwealth calls these Goliaths, and their pilots, the M.F.H, the Mechanised Force of Humanity.








As of the year 2094, the world is in a great mess. The Ukon Invasion has bypassed its initiation phase and is now in full swing, stalemating in different parts of the world as the struggles of mankind have finally caught up in the technology race. With machines on their side and the Ukons still mutating those who were once human into husks and breeding groups of their own, the war is far from over unless something drastic is put into plan. Four major factions are still fighting on to the present day, attempting to salvage what little sanity they could over their breached homelands: The Commonwealth of Man, the Asian Alliance, the American Coalition and the African Frontier. Amongst these, several nations still hold independence and fight under their own measures, using the larger-scale war as a way to survive and leech off of their fallen neighbours.













Easily the biggest factor in humanity's survival, the Goliath programme remains as the greatest achievement in technological conflict since the first mechanical tank was introduced in the Great War. Changing the face of battle with manoeuvrability and constantly shifting the tides of battle, many soldiers put their trust in the pilots that are trained to use them. However, with the programme, there are many advantages, disadvantages and quirks that the M.F.H still face with their pilots.







Finally comes the Ukon, an unimaginably terrifying monstrosity of a race with the soul purpose of ruining societies and civilisations for their own greed. Feeding off of life and planetary grounds as it is, Earth became their next target and a regular party of Ukon invasion fleets were dropped into the land. It is here that the Ukon tend to split into two categories, designated by the Commonwealth of Man, in order to help identify threat levels and how formidable opponents may become when faced on the battlefield.












The night before was rough, course and filled with much distress. At first he thought it was the heat keeping him up but within an hour beyond midnight he soon realised it was a pressuring, crippling and destructive memory that kept him awake. It all started at the hour of 0100 where the echoed whispers started to toy with his sanity. For a minute he thought his room was being invaded by soldiers who were psychologically torturing him or it was just the background noise from the outside world, but there was no such thing happening around him. It was artificial, fabricated from within his own inner-sanctum. It irritated, scared and even angered him at first, making him roll around on the spring mattress he slept upon with a passion for peace. The words were not something he could comprehend or understand, sounding somewhat alienated from the beginning. When the time came for decryption to take its place, he started to recognise the fatal voices of the fallen, the ones he wished to never hear again unless he himself was to join them. Ten months of constant fighting, hiding and screaming was still freshly planted into his head, reminding him of the horrors he had seen.

The voice of a small girl, Evana, was still haunting him. She was a fragile creature, one that could not harm a fly if she wished to. If it weren't for her, Aleyev would not have fallen into his current mindset, wanting nothing more than the end of conflict, no matter who was destined to win. When the siege at Leningrad first broke out, in which the Axis powers encircled the city very quickly using their newfound allies in Finland to distract the defence force, she was left homeless, orphaned by the constant barrages of artillery, bullets and bodies piling atop of one another. Within the space of a day, she had seen more death than any child should ever dream of. It was a cruel fate for her to be bestowed upon, but Evana was simply god's plaything for cruelty and devastation. On day four, that was when Aleyev met her. He still remembered it today...


"P-Please, mister, do you have any rations to spare?" For a girl of her age, thirteen at her peak, she was definitely flourishing with intellect and brain power. She could comprehend the worst of situations and even had picked up some military terms just from being within the outskirts of Leningrad for a few days. At that time, only the centre of the city was where the peace laid, everywhere else was engulfed in fury and flame. Evana stared deeply into Aleyev's eyes as if she were his daughter all along. A glisten within her eyes had given him a warm sensation that he had not felt in a while. Her timid voice vocalised nine years worth of suffering from the world around her. She was practically born into the boiling pan and brought up in the flames it spat out. It made him saddened, truly traumatised by her experiences so far. And so, he would make sure to visit her whenever he could get behind into the calm city centre, away from the encircles outskirts of the city. Everything was starting to feel a little more relaxing, despite the bloodshed outside, but it was here that things took a darker, far more grim turn for the worst.

A cry for help. A blister on his heels whilst the boots he wore rubbed coarsely against his skin. The impulsive reckoning of of the Fuhrer's fury. All of these things were unleashed upon the city, dividing the frontlines into an unbalanced war of attrition. It became a point of the last man standing. For nine whole months, the city would be divided into sectors of control rather than formal frontlines like before. It was pocket after pocked of Soviet alliances all forging together. New squads and militia-armies began to forge as surviving citizens joined their warrior brothers and held onto life with a fragile hand. In the first hour of the fallen grace, Aleyev clutched onto Evana and ran with her, surrounded by other Russian soldiers who were lucky to escape the initial assault.

From there, Aleyev's group became Joseph's Regiment, a band of Soviet troops using Guerrilla tactics picked up by the Vietnamese-conscripts earlier that month. Led by the man of said name, they mainly took shelter in buildings, constantly fighting their ways between the streets and hiding amongst hundreds of dead bodies in order to secure safety. They were more aware than other groups as they held radios and were in constant contact with the headquarters of Moscow, which were unfortunately unable to reach them. It was a waiting game for the 2nd Shock Army to rescue them and so they waited, constantly, with Aleyev caring for such a frail and small girl. She grew fond of him and looked to him for guidance in life. Aleyev kept her close by his side and defended her from any Axis soldier that stepped near her. She even was close to getting shot in the skull before Aleyev turned into a beast, grabbing a shard of glass and digging it deep into the Italian's neck. The blood stained him forever, making Evana a bit more nervous of who she had chosen to trust.

It was on that final month, a week before the rescue army came to break them free, where the bayonet stuck deep into the girl's chest. She was caught in the crossfire, hit by a German man of youthful age without realising it. He was stunned, just as much as Aleyev was, and fell backwards in fear, seeing that he had stabbed a small girl. Aleyev cried, screamed and beat the killer with just a large brick he found on the floor. It was memories like that where Aleyev started to cry, here in the headquarters he was safely within. Aleyev, even now in the morning, wiped his eyes dry.
Due to Default having disappeared from RPG altogether, I have decided to consider to him dropped from this roleplay. I haven't heard from him either on RPG or discord in over a month, whereas @LetMeDoStuff has warned me about his potential inactivity the next few weeks because of rehab.


That I have. Do not fret, I am still more than excited to continue this







Days began to pass. The mirage that was Matupi Headquarters was rather quiet, despite the constant bustle of troops coming in and out of the base. It was a strange sight to behold. No gunshots could be heard, ever, and the tranquillity was peacefully settling itself amongst Aleyev's mind. It was a nice change considering the sounds of cackled gunfire was now a distant fear from back in Leningrad. But to remind everyone that they were in fact at war and not on some shoddy holiday more than a hundred bodies were being wheeled in by strange mechanical beasts. Trucks, walking mechanised civilian transports and man-made stretchers were carrying the masses inside, mixing the dead and the severely injured together. This was the result of the outer-fighting in Burma, the place where this Indochinese conflict was building up. Most of those brought inside were Indian, of course, still fighting under the banner of the Allied Nations.

Aleyev would look outside his room's windows to see the groups be brought in almost every day. It was quite saddening to know that this much life could be expended, and from a Russian's point of view this was an unpopular opinion. Out of all the few years he spent in combat he had seen a large waste of life day in and day out. On the European frontline, there had been a vast selection of charges that even Aleyev had to take part in, ones that showed just how powerful one another's defences were. The Wermacht had to do the same, pushing harshly onwards until the very last man was knocked down. Back then, it was no more than an after-thought, but the siege at Leningrad showed him the true meaning behind preserving manpower and life. Every officer or soldier taking command were assigned to protecting their men, minimising casualties and taking the safest option. Leningrad was the deepest turning point for not just the Russian frontline but it also played a critical part of Aleyev's evolving mind. He learnt to trust those around him and to cherish the skills others had. It made him dangerously vulnerable to suffering after losing close ones but it was crucial to make such allies. But when the troops here, in India, were being brought back, it took him by surprise to see that the loss of life from neighbouring allies was still occurring.

Most of them were Indian troops still loyal to the British movement, of course. Many Punjab Regiments from the west mixed with the whitened faces of a few British stragglers were being brought in on different truckloads. Some had burst chests whilst others were littered with shrapnel, not a glisten of life present in their fragile eyes. But what surprised Aleyev more was the diversity in nationalities present. The French were still very active here in the British Raj, more than capable of delivering some good help after the retreats of Vietnam and Siam. On top of that, there were Australian and New Zealanders all dotted around, though many were unapproachable as they were kept relatively hidden from the naked eye. Something about their secrecy made for some dashing curiosity.

Aleyev stood up and wandered around his room, dressing himself once more into the more suitable combat attire that Indochina required. Today was going to be the day that they were going out on their first mission. Ivan Stepraskovic, a Soviet officer that Aleyev himself was assigned to, had been bringing it up for the past few days. After countless briefs and training to familiarise himself with the equipment that Atyre had given him, they would be required to go on a simple scouting mission. By his side, he held a sheet of documentation that clearly stated what their mission was to go as. It was a very tame mission and felt more like something the special forces in the VDV would be handed prior to Squad 914's deployment. Little did he know that their commanding officers were very much prepared to send them out into the field to not return, finding a bigger message and picture ahead. No one could predict what they were going to find or do, but Aleyev did not find comfort in their upbringing.

A knock came on his door, to which he answered for them to enter. As instructed, a smartly uniformed man, unlike any Russian uniforms, entered with a similar weapon to another one of Aleyev's comrades. The man would proudly wear a strangely altered version of the Union Jack, a flag that had been tainted years ago by the Fascist regime. Similarly on his other arm, the letters S.O.E shone in bold thread.


"Corporal Yanovich, correct?" His accent held a strange manner of politeness and fomrality yet still retained the brutish tone of experience from his time in the war. Upon the bridge of his nose sat a dirty pair of glasses that seemed rather uncomfortable, judging the blisters upon where it sat. "I mean, of course you are. I do have your photograph here, after all."

"We do not go by ranks here, anymore. I only go by my role and name."

"So I have to call you Specialist Yanovich then? Seems a bit peculiar, this whole Russian business, but who am I to judge. Anyway, I wanted to collect you for further testing for your experimental gear. You are due to head out on your mission in, like, two hours so we need to go through some last minute checks. Oh, and can you also direct me to a woman named...Naomi Robinson. An old comrade of mine, worked for me back in Britain in the first years. I just wanted to pop in and see her."

Aleyev silently pointed towards her door before leaving. Today was going to be a tough day, now that he had to find his place within Squad 914, make odds with the comrades he was due to work with and ultimately become the very best he could. Hopefully the scoundrels beyond the fort's walls were not expecting them as much as he hoped they weren't.
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