Recent Statuses

2 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 :)
2 yrs ago
Aaand back.
2 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 five 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 spent time in many an RP, and like creating RPs with a distinct flavor.

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

Thom sighed, as he knew the American wasn't aware, it wasn't a literal bank, as he buckled up for now, letting Liberty drive.And even despite her fucked leg, it would be good enough to get them there quick, as he looked over at Lancaster,
"Ready up, Lancaster. I'll buy you a pint later." Thom replied as he watched on, passing him the P226.
"You've got the non-lethal. Make the shot count. If we can do this without bloodshed, we'll have fucked him up proper." He added, as they paced through the London Docklands, headed for the City of London.


Arriving at the station, right in front of one of the main entrances, the team knew that the severity was high- after all, this was going to be seen as a terrorist attack and it had to stop right now, in it's infancy before it grew and bastardised into something worse, which meant taking the target down by lethal or non lethal means.

Diving out, Thom led the way, looking to Lancaster to follow, as they both knew they had to head in, breaking into a sprint, one hand against ear for his headset.

"Boss, we're on the move. Heading into the station now. Sound the evacuation order. We'll be able to get our guy with the intel you have, Bugcatcher." With it, Thom ran in, SMG in both hands as civilians didn't even notice, yet he knew in this climate it would be a definitively risky move to make. Any police officers that were there, Section would have been able to alert yet at this point, the Met weren't going to be fast enough, nor able enough to keep pace with the events taking place. This was for Sierra to handle, and they would watch on.

Running down the stairs, Cavalier led the way as he lept the ticket barrier, to the noise of swearing from a ticket inspector, and a number of other people going through.
"Oi, you!" One of the TFL staff yelled, as Thom turned, not realising he still had the MPX in hand, as the guard looked on in shock.
"Shit, he's got a gun!" And the entire station descended into screaming, as Thom looked to Lancaster, with a "Fuck's sake" look on his face, clearly unable to stop it, as they looked on to the platform, the train meant to be here, right now.
"Bugcatcher, Kingsman, where the fuck's our fucking train? It's typical British transport!"


Kingmaker looked on at the various feeds, looking to Bugcatcher. He had to be executive, and clear in what he said. Any fuck up, everyone was out of a job and he wasn't ever going to see the light of day again. These orders had to be crystal clear.

"The train is running late. We think we've got our man, he's on the rear carriage. Watch the target and watch your fire. Don't let any civies get too close and keep anyone out of harm's way. You have orders to deal with the threat right there and then, team. End this quickly but don't risk civilian collateral."
Natalie chuckled, in a very Russian way. If Putin were to laugh in front of you, that was what it would sound like, a small but token gesture, a respecting one yet menacing at the same time. This was not a woman to be crossed, not her or her partner. After all, while she was inside, she wasn't alone in this training work here. Hearing Victor drill the living shit out of the men outside was just so....Victor. Running in his armour, an M2 in hand and firing it into the sky like he gave no fucks. It was glorious to see it, and he was relishing it, ever since he got back. A chance to scare the living fuck out of anyone. Well, her training was a little more psychological, after all, she would take those that were up to scratch and thought they were unbreakable, and turn them inside out. Natalie was an Officer after all, she knew strategy and gameplay, not just an onslaught.

And that worked just as well on figuring out just where an operator breaks. If the heaviest load, the farthest run, the desert heat and the toughest challenge didn't do, she turned the tables. Made things always unpredictable, to really put them off, brought in the unthinkable. It was a Russian strategy, the same one that came up with the Little Green Men in the Crimea, the concept of an invisible foe that was seemingly populist, seemingly high tech Russian army. It was throwing up the smoke and seeing everything scared inside it. And it was these unpredicable sets of training, the rumours of which were always different from one man to the next. Just to see how they react. And see if any are leadership material, or capable of holding their minds together under every pressure imaginable to both body and mind, to lead under fire and in Blue Sword, that meant far more than just a firefight. There was also paratroop and seaborne training, which in her process, often led to the same thing, gruelling and forcing a very radical form of training development among the company that would generate rapidly deployable assault forces, that could fight faster and arrive quicker than some conventional forces.

Back to the matter at hand, she took a sip of her jug of water, funnily somewhat suited to someone of her disposition, as she sighed, nodding.

"Very well. I can still see you're not going to do that course, not today. But you'll do it this week. You'll get it alongside a lot of rehabilitation. In most normal cases, operators who have vision problems, or any limb loss are considered deadweight and are a tactical nightmare. The good news is, the rest of you will pick up where that eye left, I expect. You're not a superhuman, but train like one and you will get the rest of your overall tactical sense about you to your new normal, using your new situation not as a handicap, but as your normal. Frontline work is going to be different. I know you already know this, but it's worth repeating." She had to state the obvious, as she drank a bit more of the jug, looking out at the baking desert, before back at Eric.

"You won't need a lot of PT work, not apart from your physiotherapy and general training. We have a lot of VR modules running so you have that as an option. I know the virtual thing isn't the same, so Blue Sword has a tactical mockup, a pit and I imagine you're going to be running it more than most in the coming weeks. The reason I'm telling you this, is that you won't be in a strike team and assigned elsewhere." Natalie said to him, sitting up, looking across, her big paw-like and yet distinctly lady-like arms on the desk.

"You're rolling with us, motherfucker. You are going to be first witness to us. We need a support operative. We clean the way and we prove that there's no alternative to someone who can dish out fire and take it in equal measure. But we need someone to clean behind. Mop up the things that might not work. And that takes something that few Blue Sword operators could do."

"I noticed that while me and Victor have an incredibly high workrate, and very little stops us, sometimes we need a third man, in the shadows. We can't afford to lose momentum, not against an enemy that seems to keep shifting it's form. Your armour will be uprated but will be as light as that of what you wore before. Sometimes we'll need a urban marksman, or more anti-vehicle firepower, or both. Or neither. Whatever goes, whatever is needed. Your training was high end, but you'll go further, you will learn how to be unorthodox, because to keep up with our partnership, you need to understand that the rules do not apply. There are no operating procedures you may find sensible, and while you may have had some interesting missions, I can promise you, you'll see madness and the odds that no person would ever consider winnable. Where those odds and us are now the only option. Because sometimes we need to raise hell. And a certain someone, like you, to walk through the valley of the shadow of death, to see what we may have missed. There may be holdouts that we can't hit, either because they're vertical, or because they're entrenched somewhere we can't actually go. That's where you step in. You clean out whatever is behind us in intel, HVTs, in whatever shape you find them, and most of all, reconnaissance. We need to know what we're hitting, and what we've hit. Sometimes that might be unorthodox. You may be undercover, or you may be loud and pulling every string, using mortars, drones and anything at your disposal to augment our firepower, or hit secondary stations. Osprey excelled at finding mission critical evidence, and we've seen what The Network's got up it's sleeves. When you're wearing several hundred kilos of titanium, carbon and dragonskin, it's not that easy to find some things. But I think you might." Natalie added, as she loaded up the laptop, looking through, her Russian accent still piercing, like a dagger in the night.

"That is your chance at serving Blue Sword. I know sending you out with the grunts won't work. Seeing what I saw in your case file, that seems...unfair. Not worthy, and you'd find it out of tempo to your previous work. Too slow and methodical. So this is what you'll do, then. last thing, Eric. Do not see this offer as plain sympathy. Do not let me down. Don't slack, or fall behind. You may think that special forces training was harsh. Or work in Osprey, too. You have seen what we can do, and if you want to run with wolves, you'll need to make sure you don't get left to the dark, deepest night to be eaten by shadows. There is no opportunity for failure, when the stakes are high and the operations that myself and Victor may be deployed upon are some of the most sensitive and risky that any operator would consider. The odds are barely in our favour, so any edge works to put your chances back. Don't perform to standard, don't get through the tests to prove that you're back at level, and we will see you out. There are no procedures for this situation, but shall I say...I expect you to follow the standard and adapt. Prove me right, and you will prove yourself able to stand tall with giants, and rain hell where they cannot." Natalie stood tall all seven foot and two inches of her, as she leaned in the table, looking dead in his eyes. If he wasn't a little bit scared, or at least, aroused, given how close now in view her watermelons in her tight BDU were, then not much would do it.

"Specialist Whitford...are we understood?" Natalie's voice cut like a knife, aware that this was as clear as could be.


Twelve Days Later
2200 Hours

Natalie stood on the overlook, the compact but tight combat course only audible by crickets, and gunshots. It was a final run of the day, and she stood with Victor, kinda wanting to take one last look before bed. Of course,

She wore a little bit of a different attire, given this wasn't as formal, a grey sleevless vest revealing her bare arms, musuclar in a way that didn't look jarring but elegant, a tattoo of her Spetsnaz days, the insignia of her old VDV unit on her shoulder and almost entirely covering it, clearly a work of art given this wasn't just a standard piece of ink. Her golden blonde hair still waved past her shoulders, in a blur rather than a neater form that sat past her neck and on her back and her fair face. Despite the cuts and war-weary look, she was still beautiful, a diamond in the rough- she clearly looked after herself, and even if it was a fairly aethetic touch, sometimes she could be feminine too, of course. If she wasn't large proportioned, you'd actually take her for a model, she had that look in her blue eyes, like endless lust and endorphins. And with the....features, that Victor adored, well, she was perhaps to him. Russian indeed. A pair of combat trousers, and again, her trusty MP412 at her hip.

Watching Eric breach through the final obstacle again, she pulled out the REX, looking to Victor.
"Hmm." She was a long way away from the target, at least 30m, with a revolver like this, you'd need a hell of an aim to hit the tiny metal plate. Natalie was not complacent with a shot, however. And as she watched Eric sweep the last set, she giggled, her large hand around the trigger, aiming one handed, pistol high, for accuracy.
"Time." She fired the .357 into the metal plate, the round flying through the length of the range and into the metal.


The last one fell, as the now iconic klaxon yelled off, Natalie looking on, audibly giggling into her intercom.
"I counted 62 seconds. Two seconds. You're close, but I got the last target before you had a chance, and you aren't getting that record. Again. I'm not telling you what I've thrown up on the range."

Letting him get back, Natalie gently pulled the breach open, sliding another bullet inside from a pouch on her combat trousers, rather than scooping the entire quickloader out, before clicking it back in, safety on.
"I'm so horrible." Natalie giggled, gently wrapping Victor, close against her form, kissing him on the forehead, looking as Eric headed back to the beginning of the range.
"It's been good back here. I like this a lot. But I can tell, we are gonna get bored. I need a little fun. You know....I'm beginning to think maybe I enjoy this carnage too much. I need to nearly die to be alive." Natalie said with a gentile and caressing tone, leaning against Victor, a giant to her giant, a warm tanned shoulder to lean on, as she gently put her hand along his back, up to his mohawk, gently running her fingers through, a giggle still running through her. This wasn't Natalie killing people. This was Natalie laughing, and it was infectious, her cheeks red.

"That is either a problem, or.....well....I don't think it is when I'm with you. We've got plenty more ahead of us to do. More ass to kick." Natalie grinned, as she reached up, kissing Victor once again, before stepping up to the fore of the structure, resetting the course.
"Once again! Go!" And with it, with Eric ready, she let him go and charge the course once again.

If you want it to be, sure. It'd be a nice angle to take. Quite funny actually, all the Tyrell kids getting married, n'aww.

Not sure. I'm toying with the idea that she did get married off, but in classic Amber fashion, cheats a little. Which leads to some serious beef, as she may still have some forbidden-love feelings shall we say :P


I think the Reach might be an interesting site for an insergency. No doubt that the marriage of Alerie/Tom would be quite interesting/intricate indeed, and some of her plans may be yielding returns.

I want to see if I can push Ellion towards a Kingsguard position- perhaps something to kinda take his mind off of scouting/duelling/jousting that Alerie wants him to be in.

I think in House Tyrell itself, I'll create the CS for Alys, as well as that of the two children (very light, so descriptors really) for Merlin's kids. Willas is still on the Council as per same, Merlin rules at home, Garlan is bitter at the marriage but just accepts it and well, has to work with his Lannister counterparts which is entertaining.

Sounds good. There's a few things that actually can develop through those few months, so that should be interesting :)
Just realised... "The Adventures of Ant and Anatoly" could be a thing :P


Gonna fix my CS now. Images work now? If so, can I post into chars?


See, he's just like Ellion. Except Ellion gets more bitches. And men. Because. :P
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