ONL

Foxtrot Oscar- The Eccentric Military RP

Which is why making headers has become the default for me, you filthy plebs :P

Foxtrot Oscar- The Eccentric Military RP

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Astrid Norheim - Gungnir

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"Next clusterfuck? What do you mean, it wasn't as if there wouldn't be that many FARC-fucks guarding a rebel military installation, protecting the President of Colombia, right? You make it sound like we did a bad job, when I wasn't the one to get spotted by that guard in the outhouse…Sam?" Astrid's playful words flew as effortlessy as the red-blue haired assassin had flown into the empty couch, laying down like a sack of attractive potatoes as Skye the Scotswoman answered her. With a newly-given glass of proper Scotch, Astrid put her tounge out to Sam the Dutchman. Yeah, he was an idiot and an asshat, but he was still good at his job. It wasn't as if she herself hadn't fucked up once or twice, but damn she still had more experience that little clog.

"Skål for us, indeed."

Astrid had to force herself not to snort out the Scotch through her nose at Sam's mention of her ass, more so out of laughter than of anger. In the end the Norwegian swallowed it hard, a single tear running from her eye as she began to laugh. "My fatt ass is what you kept staring at while I kicked yours, okay? It was worth that rib, at least I got some bones in my nose unlike you coke-snorting tulip." She quickly commented, hoping to avoid Skye's anger as she listened to Zurvan's fox answer…

"Too late and too bad, old man, I already did the meme. Meme is life!" Astrid bantered on, holding back her laughter as Zurvan got the fox's ass in his mouth, full of hair. Oh they were a fucked up group of operatives, but perhaps that was why they got shit done? Anyway, according to Skye they had more time for R&R before a potential mission on Crete. "A little Mediteranian all-inclusive vacation? Sign me up, I desperately need some more sunbathing. And no, Sam, I'm not going to the Nudist colony, so keep your cock to yourself. But seriously, like Fox-Man said, what do we know? I take it we're not going after some street-vendor selling diarrea gyros to fat German tourists?"

World of Light

The Heavy

Level: 2 (4/20)
Location: Lakeside
Word count: 569(1 EXP)

Once again Heavy had pulled his weight and helped the best team to victory. In jubliation and great satisfaction as he stood upon the ginourmous mechanical camel, Heavy once again raised his fist into a victory pose and did a little dance, quite surreal considering the brutish nature of this huge mercenary. He wasn't just celebrating for himself, however. To all his new comrades - and old ones from not-so RED and BLU team - Heavy gave a wide smile and open arms for anyone who would have wanted to hug the Russian bear. The only one who approached him was tiny, fury Tora, who gave him a well-deserved High-Five just like his American comrades liked to do. "Da! New friends to squash enemy like bug! No offense, Tzarinna Sectonia!" Heavy cheered on after Tora, giving the bug-queen a quick look of sincerity, not intending to actually squash the bug-queen like a bug. Really.

Heavy gave a confused look as his new and strange comrades started speaking of doing…something, which they weren't susceptible for? Rubbing his bald head in deep thought, Heavy didn't understand what they were going on about, only comprehending the fact that some other unknown comrades were fighting in a pyramid. Heavy gave a questioning look to Medic at his side, hoping for answers, when another tiny creature spoke up to the group.

Another member of the nobility, so it would seem. Strangely coloured skin, a prominent nose and long firery hair underneath an overly elaborate crown, calling herself Midna the Twillight Princess. The princess of midnight…twillight…something something questioned who this motley crew of mercenaries were and what they wanted out of fighting their fight. Before Heavy got the chance to introduce himself - AGAIN - Medic stepped forth and made it clear who he was, speaking in his funny German accent. The doctor was the only German Heavy actually knew, but then again Medic was also his best friend. He didn't always understand everything the German mad-man said, like how he didn't quite catch Medic's motivations, but he didn't care. To him the answer was obvious enough.

"I agree with my Doktor, we need to find our comrades! Also payment is good, and hats! Heavy wants one, two, no THREE hats! Yes, that would be good…" Heavy excitedly pumped himself up, beginning to even jump a little up and down in joy at the thought of recieving the priceless rewards of proper HATS. But he was getting ahead of himself, and straightened himself up as the introductions continued. "I am Heavy Weapons Guy, like I say before we fight former comrads of RED and BLU. This is Sasha, my weapon. Some people think they can outsmart me. Maybe…" Heavy presented himself, holding up the minigun for everyone to see, halting at the end to sniff at the thought of people making a mockery of him. "…maybe. I have yet to meet one that can outsmart bullet. Oh! Do not forget Sandvich!"

Heavy seemingly pulled another Sandvich out of his pocket, as if he hadn't already eaten one earlier in the battle, this one just as moist and fresh as the previous one. He is a loose cannon, but a damn good cop! Yes, Tzarrina Sectonia, is with tomato too; Bread, cheese, lettuce, tomato, ham and bologna, with olive on stick. Very good! You want? Heavy, Medic and Sandvich ready to break more skulls in pyramid!"

Foxtrot Oscar- The Eccentric Military RP

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Astrid Norheim - Gungnir

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Somewhere ABOVE the Swiss Alps
Soaring like a fuckin' hawk…
14:30 Hours

"60 seconds."

The tiny speck of a black figure flying through the air paid only the littlest of attention to the computerized voice telling the time. Sure, it was a good warning to receive for someone falling like a sack of potatoes throught the air above the mountainous region of Switzerland, but this black-clad figure wasn't falling; She was gliding. Like the "La Serpentine" fascility which the gliding was aiming for, her presence up in the sky wouldn't raise to many brows. Perhaps they should, certainly they should.

Astrid was gliding at speeds that normally would fuck your brains out. She, on the other hand, was the one doing the fucking. Figuratively.

"30 seconds. Prepare parachute."

Astrid's winged suit allowed for her to continue her descent, gliding towards a Swiss cliffside. To the untrained eye, the winged woman looked as if she'd hit the side of the mountain and become a Norwegian pastry. They would be wrong. Astrid raised her right wing, lowering the left, and instantly changed course, the g-forces jiggling through her gliding suit as she soared leftward of the mountainside and barely clipping the treetops that her descent brought her to. Astrid smirked to herself, her LZ in sight a brisk distance ahead of her.

"20 seconds till impact. Eject parachute now."

"Rookie numbers, Clair, rookie numbers."

The winged Norwegian assassin continued to glide effortlessly through the air, her black siluette now becoming visible to anyone standing guard inside the secret military fascility cleverly disguised as some Swedish Hollywood wife's L.A. mansion. This was her way of pushing herself to the limit. After all, she had been brought into Foxtrot Oscar for a reason, besides her great looks and killer skills. Infiltration into extremely hostile territory was one of them.

"10 seconds till impact. Eject parachute NOW."

Coming into sight, Astrid's eyes locked onto a small circle marked on the grassy parts of Foxtror Oscar's runway, continuing to smirk as the computerized voice was about to warn Astrid again. Finally she ejected her parachute, decelerating rapidly and gently adjusting the parachute as she guided herself to the middle of the circle, like some high-precision ICBM fired from a British nuclear submarine, only more gracious. Her feet landed at just their mark, her landing catching the attention of several armed guards who rushed to tell her she had not been cleared for landing, only for Astrid to remove her helmet and waving her red-blue hair at them.

"I know you guys are impressed, buuuut…unlike you, I've got places to be and people to eliminate with my killer looks. Catch you later, you won't see me coming."

1502 Hours

"So Jacobs, what does the fox say?" Astrid asked the first person (and fox) she saw as she followed suit into the lounge, now newly-dressed and hair washed after a safe flight. The Norwegian stepped around their resident First-Nations Canadian, giving the fox a quick smile as she judged its natural beauty as well as thinking back to when she'd shot her first with a .22 back home. That thing was still in the freezer, somewhere below all that mutton cranberries. To the two others, the Scottish claymore and Dutch stoner, Astrid waved cheerily and throwing herself into an empty couch. "Good evening, ladies and gents. Nice day for flying, or what you think? I know. What's the situation, Skye? Need me to give the Dutch clog a kick up the ass?"

World of Light

@Dr Lovecraft@Blackmist16



I love this Doktor!

World of Light

@Dr Lovecraft Doktor? Ahaha! Heavy has his Medic!

Foxtrot Oscar- The Eccentric Military RP

Woop woop! Looking forward to same ass-kickery!

World of Light

The Heavy

Level: 2 (2/20)
Location: Lakeside
Word count: 905 (2 EXP)

In the all the madness and confusion that this battle of Lakeside had devulged into, Heavy must have looked like a calm cliff standing strong against the waves of war. Calm, or quite possible insanely calm. Bullets, explosions and whatnot whizzed past the Russian brute, richoceting off the sandstone collums and wooden scaffolding surrounding Heavy. Even death was starting to emminate before Heavy's eyes, even if said death was only temporary for the cowardly enemies which he had the pleasure of gunning down. He'd met death before, so he was scared.

Which was probably why he didn't feel that terrifying sensation of losing his life when he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. Heavy grunted loudly, blood starting to slowly pour out of the gunshot wound now visible in his left shoulder. Well, perhaps a goo-wound was a better description, as a handful of organge goo dripped down from his vest. More annoyed than anything else, Heavy shouted at the enemy who'd gotten a shot at him, who must have been the Inkling. "You think you can ink me, tiny Inkling?"

Heavy's held in the trigger of his minigun, swining its many barrels in the general direction of Inkling who sprinted just as quick as friendly Scout, ready to turn her into Swiss cheese! It was with great confusion then once some sorts of ice monsters went after her. Heavy held his fire for a moment, turning around to see who commanded these tiny Siberian soldiers; It was the Queen herself, who for her reactionary stature, gave Heavy a good laugh and reason for joy. "Aha! Many thanks, Tzarinna Sectonia! Teach little Inkle Siberian strength!"

That still left the remainder of their enemies out to continue pushing Heavy and his friends back towards the mechanical camel. They were running out of time, space, and certainly ammo as Heavy hadn't seen any ammunition boxes floating around the battlefield. Heavy knew from just the weight of Sasha that he wouldn't be able to continue his suppressive fire for much longer. He needed a distraction, something to get their attention while he looked for ammo…

Said opportunity came like lighting from a clear sky, quite litterary. An attack of lightening struck down at several enemy mercenaries, throwing them around and giving their offensive a pause. "Good hit!" Heavy shouted over his shoulder, turning around to quickly look for any lucky drops for him. In the corner of his eye he could see it; The Box! Floating a foot over the ground and slowly spinning around, a wooden box marked by three bullets was just what Heavy desired. Heavy ran as fast he could over to it, once touching it with his hand instantly absorbing its contents in the form of many more bullets for Sasha to fill enemy team with lead. "Very good, time to bring more pain!"

Back to his designated mission then; Provide covering fire for friends and teammates to escape to the massive camel. A distant sound of gunfire came from what had once been Heavy's own side of the map, the RED battlements when a sniper round from The Cunning, striking Tora in the head with little to no damage. Heavy looked puzzled, but impressed at the furry little creature. Somehow it must have had some massive Health boost, or some kind of Übercharge. "Tora is strong little comrade! Heavy do approve!" Heavy told his new furried comrade, opening fire with Sasha on the now visible Cunning. Several bullets struck the now enemy, striking Cunning up against the wall.

They were still outnumbered, and their retreat was now fully called. Tora was swooped up by Poppi and run back to the Camel, while Heavy slowly stepped backwards while continuing giving covering fire. Way behind him, Heavy could hear another voice of a friend he had not seen before now, tiny Midna. She was calling them to climb onto the camel as fast as they could, as the camel itself kneeled down to allow their tactical retreat. For a moment Heavy remained steadfast, firing upon anything and everything that moved in front of him as more and more comrades fled to the camel mech. "Run for cover, comrades! I cover you…"

Heavy's comitted support was once again cut off by yet another sharp pain. This time a couple of bullets from the now re-spawned Spartan filled his torso, painfully dripping blood. It must have looked bad, for the sight of Heavy wounded must have reassured the enemy teams that they need not rush the camel. Too bad that out from his pocket, Heavy pulled out that culinary miracle that was Sandvich, biting into it with a deafening "Nom nom nom…nom nom…Moist and delicious! Hehahaha!" It must have been quite the wonder, for as Heavy turned around to make a run for the mech camel, Heavy's wounds were visible healing themselves.

Whatever confusion must have been sowed amongst Team Yellow was not visible in the enemy teams, probably quite aware of Heavy's healing ability. They rushed on after him, just as Heavy reached the mechanical camel and the remainder of his new comrades. Heavy climbed up onto the camel, glad that it included a stairwell which made it easier. Once onto the camel, Heavy smiled at his comrades and once again began firing his suppressive fire at the enemy team. "Time to get away then, yes? Heavy will try to keep enemy teams off camel!"

Foxtrot Oscar- The Eccentric Military RP

Astrid Norheim - Gungnir

Name: Astrid Norheim

Age: 31

Apperance: Standing at a fair height of 5"10 and slender build (not to mention her athletic curves, even underneath her armour), stares at you with her grey eyes as she crosses her finely toned arms. Had it not been for her modern looks, dressed sharply and wearing her medium-cut hair of blue and red colour. Astrid looks like what you'd imagine a ballerina dancer with a knack for heavy lifting and long-distance running would look like. A clever smirk on her face, she looks ready to either dance or snap your neck, perhaps both.

Nationality: Norwegian

Callsign: Gungnir

Skills: Artic- and sub-polar survival, stealth, extreme climbing, base-jumping, long-distance recognizance, infiltration, long-range firearms training, TBA

History: Astrid hails from an ancient family of soldiers, well as ancient as her great grandfather who served during the Second World War. One could say it runs in their blood, with each successive generation determined to serve in the military in some capacity. It was only recently that such a privilige was bestowed, or forced upon Astrid herself after many generations. Born into the army life at the very start, her upbringing involved many times on the move from one military base to another; Greenland, Norway, Belgium, Cyprus, Taiwan, Canada, The United States, you name it. To Astrid, few of these can be called home.

Norway and Greenland are the two expections.

Astrid as bred and raised as a true-blooded Norwegian, right down to the 17th of May celebrations, waffles, bunads and an affinity for the winter life. The only thing which has given her the qualities of a non-Norwegian, is perhaps her excessive use of hair-dye and desire to follow her forefathers' militaristic lifestyles. Her great grandfather served as a British commando during the Second World War, her grandfather and grandfather serving around the globe in NATO and special operations, and her own father who still doesn't speak of his own experiences. Her own began at a young age with martial arts, rock climbing and hunting with her grandfather.

The Norwegian Army was something quite different, especially her time overseas. Conscription into the army as for all Norwegians turning 18, basic training and such. Astrid decided to stay on after her term was up, becoming a professional soldier. Her specialisation, recognizance and sharpshooter operations, gave her plenty of tours around the world; Peace-keeping operations in various African warzones, counter-terrorism operative in the Middle East, border patrols on the Norwegian-Russian border, the list goes on. In all these times in the line of fire, her extreme cool under fire and persistance on long-range operations in extreme climates was noted by her brothers in arms and superiours. Few soldiers, and even fewer women could survive as well as she did in hostile territories, make accurate shots at insurgent leaders and get more looks at her ass than Astrid. In short, another Norheim didn't fail to get noticed.

It was at the age of 25 Astrid was contacted by [REDACTED] for clandestine operations patrolling the Artic region against [REDACTED] and [REDACTED]. Her record was spotless, her killcount of [REDACTED] yielding her several commandations and ensuring her future was safe, provided she should survive against the special forces of a certain Norwegian foe in the artic waters. Certain missions involved Astrid trekking miles across icy wastelands and tundras, making sure elements of [REDACTED] armed forces not set up military outposts in neutral, international zone of research. Global warming and all made the prospect of resource excavation tempting for [REDACTED]. Astrid's operations against [REDACTED] were top-secret, barely mentioned in standard military briefs to world leaders.

Perhaps it was not unexpected that she was hand-picked for a role in Foxtrot Oscar by the one they call Oracle. Not that she had much choice, even if she wanted to say anything. Like her forefathers, she followed her orders wherever she went.

Personality: Astrid's the type of person who highly enjoys the company of others and her friends, as long as they know when to shut up and leave her alone. Chalk it up to her getting accustomed to her long-distance missions out in the cold wildernesses of the world, wherever she's sent to fulfill her mission. Sometimes you'll hear her witty commentary over the operative comms, remarking how it's sad the last guy she blew the head away was kind of cute, if short. Puns, sarcasm and such isn't uncommon for her when she's enjoying her job.

And then she goes into full Gungnir-mode, shuts up and is laser-focused on getting into position. It's this part of Astrid you better stay clear off, unlike most men who sees this as their queue to make their move. Wrong move, a knee in the balls and a snarl from Astrid later she's off to do some outdoors jogging. It's a wonder she has a partner who's not afraid of her, if she even has one.

Not one to be alarmed by the many looks she gets for her appearence and swagger, she takes it either as a compliment or simply shakes it off. She's not intimidated by anyone, and whoever decides to take advantage of her or gets the wrong idea, she's sure to enlighten them in a most painful way.

Tactical Suit:

Visual representation of Astrid's Light Mech Suit

The custom adjusted Tactical Suit for Astrid enhances her tactical specialities of Stealth and vertical manouvering. In it's default setting, it's features bare minimum of military accessories. Sound-absorbing fabrics make Astrid's movement in the suit as good as impossible to hear with the naked ear, let alone assists her in distributing her weight as to minimize external sound factors on various surfaces. It even softens the sound of her snapping necks or subduing enemies by suffication.

The non-reflective external texture ensures nothing but the brighest beams of light gives away her position, combined with its temperature regulatory material which drastically lowers her thermal profile. In short, she's a shadow with delicate angles.

Additional features can be quicly attached to Astrid's light suit, giving her vastly improved climbing abilities with increased grip strength and better grip. In the hands of Astrid, she can effectively climb any and all surfaces like Spiderman, but with looking a whole lot better. Furthermore, she equips herself with a glider-suit when on high-altitude missions, allowing her to quickly evactuate her firing position and fly away to safety at breath-taking speeds. That's if anyone can figure out where the black-clad Norwegian operative fired from in the first place.

Weapons:

• FN Ballista .308 Winchester Sniper Rifle
• Duel-wielded Glock 17 Gen 5 with attachable surpressors
• FN P90 5.7x28mm Submachine Gun with attachable surpressor

Equipment:

• Tactical Knife
• 2x Flashbang
• 2x Smoke grenades
• 2x Fragmentation grenades
• Quad-Optic NVGs
• Multi-zoom binoculars
• Climbing gear (Nano-fiber rope, climbing hook, etc.)
• Adaptive Arctic and woodlands camouflage cover
• Military Wing-glider

Hobbies: Climbing, ballet dancing, reading, TBA

Foxtrot Oscar- The Eccentric Military RP

@kingkonradCheers man, popping it over right as we speak