NuttsnBolts

NCQ — Polaris

Ｔ Ａ Ｈ Ｌ Ｉ Ａ Ｓ Ｔ Ｙ Ｌ Ｅ Ｓ

The Corridors, New Anchorage CC
[[ Around 0200 Hours ]]
_{M O O D M U S I C}

The sounds of gunshots and slaughter resonated through the corridors, trapping the innocent occupants in an acoustic nightmare. Each blast leached through the eardrums of Tahlia and bought back the memories of what war was really like; however the years of fighting, the endless battles, and the orders to shell anything on sight had taught her how to block out most of the influences and focus on completing the mission.

This mission... Kill the fucking bastards that invaded her new home.

She shuffled along the edge of the corridor, laying low in a crouch position and slid her left shoulder across the wall in order to limit the strenuous use of her leg muscles. In her right arm she held the shower pipe as she rested it across her shoulder, just light enough so that with a quick flick of the wrist she could swing it towards anything that appeared before her. It was all that she could do at this time until she found a piece of equipment that would give her more confidence, whether it'd be her pistol or a more specialised weapon from the armoury. The only issue was that the armoury was a location that would attract a lot of other parties; a death trap in the making.

The Australian stopped in her tracks as she approached the corner. She could hear the sounds of voices and commotion from down the hallway, the yell of commands from what sounded like opposing forces. Cautiously Tahlia peered around the edge only to quickly pull back when she heard the cracking sound of shots being fired. She counted herself lucky that she didn't decide to dive out into the open, but the realisation that the shots were being fired away from the hallway corner was quite reassuring. Whoever these people were targeting, it was pretty safe to say that it was not her.

"Al!"

The voice, the name, she knew these all too well.

With a second look she could see the powerful shadows of a death squad standing in the hallway, lit up by a light source that franticly dived behind some cover. In the crazed flashes from the data-tool she could see the corpse of a deceased soldier on the ground as the team pressed forward, opening up a storm and driving the defenders into a corner. Tahlia gently placed down her piece of steel and inched towards their exposed rear. She passed an alcove on her left, pausing only when she came close to the fresh corpse. As silently and quickly as possible she leaning forward and plucked the discarded rifle from the blood soaked ground.

She finally had it, she had obtained her confidence and with a sharp back-pedal and sidestep into the cavity the woman prepared for her counter attack. Tahlia pulled the gun up to her eye, sighting as best as she could in the dark. She pulled the trigger, giving a light spray that would guarantee a hit of some kind.

_{*CHUNK, CHUNK, CHUNK!*}

The end of the barrel exploded in power up as the recoil of each shot pounded back into her shoulder. She couldn't exactly see it clearly but the sound of shattering flesh and bone was heard as clear as day; a sharp thump of a second body collapsing on the floor.

"Fucking eat shit ya feral bastards!" she screamed out, both as a generous distraction for the others and a taunt for the invaders to take her on. She saw the glowing eyes of her targets swing back around and glare in her general direction, an indication that now was the perhaps the time to pull out of their line of sight. With a stern kick off the ground she pushed up against the wall, avoiding their night-vision assisted shots.

Fucken bullshit this is, she cursed silently after seeing their augmented eyes. She never had the need to get such a cybernetic in her life and at this point in time she really wish that she had taken the time to get the surgery when she back in the land down under.

NCQ — Polaris

@DruSM157

For a moment Skitters stood still as the assailants writhed in the blinding light, then he pounced. Charging at the closest man, electricity arched between the two electrodes on Skitters muzzle; the taser snapped and sizzled as it pressed into the man’s exposed throat, in the gap between his chin and the collar of his uniform. NPC Death

The screams of the soldiers were evident as the sound of gunfire and metal echoed in the corridor, as two of the soldiers swung backward— the neon green of their eyes shifting to a crimson red as one of them switched out his weapon.

“SUPPRESSING FIRE!”

A blitz of blue and red flew through the corridors as the two soldiers took aim at the approaching enemies— with three of their own allies in front of them.

Alan's Post

You know the plan, we separate in teams of five-on-five...

Pawn Post

This might need to be corrected seeing as we dropped the NPC teams down to 5 and not 6. Maybe change the Three to 'a pair'.
Just noticed it while I was reading and planning out my post.

It's really difficult sometimes... :(

Sometimes it's difficult for someone like me to RP with someone because I'm not good at being descriptive. I think that's the main reason. I can do one liners or a few sentences. Maybe even a paragraph, if I'm lucky. I know I should work on my writing skills, but I guess I'm just too lazy (I know that probably sounds like a lame excuse). Whenever I see very long posts that roleplayers have typed, I feel intimidated. I wish I could "write", or type like them. Also, my characters (OC's) are really shy and quiet, but I know I should still try to be more descriptive, even if my characters don't do or say much because of their shyness. I also hate it when I'm ignored or randomly blocked just because I'm not good enough. *sigh* If you want to RP, please let me know...

@MyZelda9

*Pushes the whole message aside*

So...
Why did I do that...
Because i have to ask, "What do you feel comfortable with?"

I ask this because you're quite concerned about what everyone thinks and the amount of stuff you have to read. The beauty about the Guild is that we have 3 main categories (Free, Casual and Advanced) along with specialty categories (1x1s, Arena, NRP and Tabletop) so in theory... we have just the right RP for you! ;D (its just sometimes buried really well)

If you are shy, try a 1x1 and be clear about your play style. A 1x1 is a great place to get some confidence seeing as it's a bit private and you're the only focus. Group RPs, if not run well, can occasionally miss the quiet players, but given the right GM you might open up a bit.

NCQ — Polaris

Ｍ Ａ Ｄ Ｉ Ｓ Ｏ Ｎ Ｃ Ｏ Ｌ Ｅ

Medical Ward, NC Operations HQ, New Anchorage
[[ Around 0200 Hours ]]

The eyes exploded open with a sense of deja-vu that just didn't feel quite right. The white ceiling and sounds of medical equipment were replaced with blackened silence, except for the sound of an explosion nearby. Madison knew instantly that something wasn't right, especially when she heard the staff outside instantly erupt into a panic. The only reason why she was still in the ward was because the team were apparently still performing some test, making sure that she was ready to be re-plugged into an NC. Aside from that the girl was due to to be released any time now.

It just turns out that "now" was perhaps the best time to officially sign out of the hospital.

Madison leapt up off the bed and rushed towards the corridor, her bare feet hitting the hard glossy floor and trying to gain traction. She watched as various personnel sprinted past the entrance and down towards her right. The ingenious thought popped into her mind that these people knew what they were doing and to follow them was the best option. With her right arm held out Madison grabbed the door jamb and swung her body around the corner in order to preserve the motion that she was generating.

_*Thump!*

"Ergh—" Madison's entire chest and face slammed into the wall, her hand still gripping the corner. She glanced over across her hard pressed nose and saw that her bionic arm had refused to release its iron grip, a clear indication that she was still getting used to her new limb. The girl snarled, pushed away from the wall and began tugging against the anchor. "C'mon! You stupid hunk of junk!" Madison argued, "Stupid, stupid, STU— Oh shit!"

The hand released itself, finally obeying the command of it's master but not before sending her flying backwards and into a service trolley. The rattle and jingle of contents could be heard crashing around her as she landed, but there was no time to worry about the mess. Madison simply looked up and saw the crowd of people gaining distance on her. She clambered herself up in the most unconventional and unflattering way possible and began jogging in the general direction of the others. She had to catch up, she didn't want to be left behind.

_{*Thwack, Thwack, Thwack...*}

Blood spewed through the air as the runners passed by an intersection, their bodies instantly becoming limp and collapsing like rag-dolls. Madison skidded to a stop and her face froze in horror. She knew instantly that if her arm had not played up, if she didn't land on top of the trolley, she would have been one of those poor souls. It was a true sliding doors moment where seconds made the difference between her life and her death. She had to get out of there, she had to go in the opposite direction.

Madison about-faced and kicked off the ground, initiating a fresh sprint in the reverse direction to which she was initially travelling. Madison turned the corner, and another; the fear had taken over. She could feel the eyes watering up, she didn’t wanna die. Not here… Not now, and then she tripped. Madison stumbled over something in the darkness as she fell on top of a small bodily figure.

"Ow!"

The yelp was muffled both by the impact, as well as the figure themselves. It didn’t take them long to scramble up, though even standing upright they weren’t particularly tall. The halls were still dark, but apparently not dark enough to impair their vision. Perhaps they’d been in it long enough to adjust.

"Madison?" quiet, but the whispered query could still be heard. "It's Vera, oh my god are you okay?"

"Ruski!!!!" Madison grabbed Vera and gave her a massive hug before standing back up. She was relieved to see that someone she knew was still alive and well, but an important question was on her mind. "What are you doing out here!?!"

"Wha—I ju—!"

Before she had a chance to answer another rogue gunshot was heard, interrupting Vera's response. Madison grabbed the young girl’s arm and pulled her to her feet.

"We gotta go!" she instructed, speaking like an actual adult for the rare time in her life.

NCQ — Polaris

Ｔ Ａ Ｈ Ｌ Ｉ Ａ Ｓ Ｔ Ｙ Ｌ Ｅ Ｓ

Wash Room, New Anchorage CC
[[ Around 0200 Hours ]]

A cloud of light smoke filled the air, dancing like a heavy mist on a haunted lake. It's stream slowly rising higher and higher in order to follow the air currents that lead up into the steel, meat-grinder of a fan; a fan that hummed with a gentle chopping sound as it diced the very air it was sucking away.

A deep breath was heard with a stern exhale as Tahlia took another drag of her synthetic cigarette. She had been running low on her supply of Longbeach originals and was keen to save the last few for that special occasion. She needed to restock at some point but finding a distributor that would import her selection was quite the challenge. Until then she had to rely on the more common and readily available artificial kind; it just lacked something to her particular liking. Taste? Warmth? Flavour? She couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Tahlia had felt another restless night where she woke up in a cold, sweaty shiver. She had left the barracks to venture off to the wash room and pat down her face. She needed to reset her mind and allow it to relax once more. It would have been a lot easier with alcohol, but thanks to Graham's Test recently she hadn't been drinking as often. The metho dulled the senses and woke up emotions that were eroding away over time. In an odd sense she felt more alive with the poison than she did normally.

Alive....

The faint rumble of steel framing echoed throughout the room as the sound of an explosion resonated through the walls. The vibrations alone were enough to rattle the dust of the now flickering lights above, sending a layer of dirty snow down on the female below. Tahlia reactively tilted her head and watched herself in the mirror as she disappeared into darkness, her body leaning up against the vanity unit. Light had disappeared from her sights and the humming whirs of electronics slowly faded into nothingness. She gave a light sniffle and pulled up her datatool one last time only to see the usual empty inbox that was framed with a glowing back-light.

"Fuck-it..." she cursed looking at the time; it was impromptu. There was nothing that should have been planned for this late hour, not even a test or drill. It only left one scenario... A raid.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" the slander rolled out of her mouth as she grabbed the emergency override to the door, twisting it and activating the manual release. This however wasn't what was quite on her mind as she was more concerned about how she had become too complacent and stopped equipping her pistol, a L6 Star-Shooter.

The small, personal, laser gun was back next to her bed, buried within her personal lock-box. The chances of her making it back to the bunks unharmed was slim and thus another plan needed to be formulated. As Tahlia's head popped out of the bathrooms she could hear the gunshots from down the hall and the faint screams of dying personnel, a sound that reinforced the dangers of short-sighted thinking. She turned back into the wash room, remembering what was around that she could use as some makeshift style of weapon. Anything temporary was better than facing a loaded barrel with nothing but fists.

Toilet, wash basin, glass mirror, shower rose...

The shower rose was a solid piece of steel pipe that extended out from the wall and curved to face the floor below. It's large circular head and dirty chrome housing reflected the light of Tahlia's datatool making it barely visible through the darkness. She grabbed it, using her might and twisted her body to apply extra force. A faint crack was heard as the rust released it's firm hold, leaving only squeaks and screams as the inanimate object's threaded limb was abruptly being removed.

Tahlia felt the weight of the metal in her hands. It wasn't a lot and surely wasn't going to kill anyone, but it was something. She returned back to the entrance door and listened out, noting that the footsteps and screams were moving more away from her location rather than towards it; a logical move seeing as the majority of people would be in the sleeping quarters and not the wash rooms. All she had to do now was move, move in a way that would not lead to her own death.

NCQ — Polaris

Racing isn't going to be on late tonight, we have an IC post, and I have an itch for writing...

NCQ — Polaris

Also, I only read the latest version I didn't read the above comments mostly cause there was an updated cs sheet and I just saw that, (plus it was 5am when I saw it at first)

NCQ — Polaris

@Evil Snowman

Having under gone the test to see if she what her sync rate was with an NC compatible at the age of 6 with her Uncle, who knew about her dream to become a pilot and had done what he could to encourage it. Wanting to make sure the child he had practically raised to do the job had always dreamed of doing. Valeriya's uncle helped her get the necessary funds to undergo the the surgery, although never shared how. He helped Valeriya get in contact with Volkov to see about getting some sort of employment. The company seeming interested when her test records showed a fairly high compatibly positive result.

Edited from original comment:

It took me a while to work out what it was that both made me interested in the character but also unsure about the cs as a whole. I think it comes down to the age.

Your character is 33, but seems to be portrayed as a younger, attractive female. At 33 she would have over 10 years of practice and training as well as being someone who has been in several battles and confrontations. 10 plus years of being wired into an NC and killing people can cause all types of mental problems like PTSD.

There's also the question of why she would wait 10 years to leave Volkov and yet Volkov would give up after a few months. This seems a bit balanced in the opposite of what it should be seeing as they are a large corporation that controls a large army.

I think the character needs to be in their mid 20s and that the age is set a bit high. The character is interesting and with aspects like wearing coloured contacts and mismatched clothes she seems fun, but it doesn't fit the overall theme of her if she's older and especially if she's supposed to be a soldier.

Get Kid

@Cynder

Get Kid

Name: Liam "Fucking" Neeson
Age: Middle age
Gender: 1 damn smexy Male
Other: "If you are looking for ransom I can tell you I don't have money, but what I do have are a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you."