Recent Statuses

22 days ago
Current College beginning Aug. 20th, replies might slow down.
4 mos ago
Finals just around the corner, should be able to reply more promptly afterwards!
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8 mos ago
Won't be able to reply at all Jan 2nd through Jan 8th, going down to Texas to help rebuild.
12 mos ago
School begins again. Replies and posting might be erratic. Sorry in advance!


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Bangkok, Thailand.

Gunsmith stood slightly behind Argonaut, letting the other man's shields take the gunfire, examining the chaos as it unfolded. It would be an annoying fight, but nothing incredibly difficult. The suits weren't nearly enough to stop all of them, the trained soldiers would be cut down like chaff, and the metas were already being dealt with. The only one's who would be a problem were the ex-shadow assassins, and Vortex was already dealing with two of them while Cheshire and his group would be equipped, either through skill or enhancements, to deal with the rest. Gunsmith raised his arm, his railgun deploying, and fired a blast into the crowd of those soldiers with exosuits. He doubted they had enough armor to actually resist it, but if they did it would at least stun them for a bit to give them an advantage. "Alright, priority targets: ex-Shadow assassins, Metas, Exo-suits, everyone else. Keep an eye out for the invisible murderers, they'll probably be focusing you." A series of confirmation and then they were gone, their cybernetics tearing through the soldiers.

With his own squad heading into the fray, Gunsmith raised his shotgun and headed into the battle, bullets bouncing off of his armor as he unloaded his shotgun into the enemy, waiting for an assassin to try to attack. He wasn't so foolish as to let bloodlust distract him, and he wasn't so green to let some trained soldiers occupy his full attention.


Chihuanhuan Desert, Mexico

Therma looked at Nova, an eyebrow arched behind her mask. "I mean, I'm not opposed, but shouldn't you buy me dinner first?" Her wisecrack was soon drowned out by the woman's cybernetics going haywire and her screaming. Therma's first reaction was one of confusion and mild panic, before she realized just how much heat whatever was happening was producing. "What are you-you're insane!" Still, she drew all the heat offered into her body. She focused on making sure she didn't draw all the woman's body heat out. She wasn't sure how that would affect a robot (cyborg? She really wasn't sure what the doctor was) but figured it couldn't be good.

As around 650 degrees C of heat entered her, Therma could feel the power flowing through her veins, and with it the high. She grinned wildly behind her mask, winking at Nova. "Don't need to tell me twice, Sparky! I'll make sure to slap you if you pull my hand to your breasts again." She stood up, ready to tear through the enemy, when Perseus started nagging at her. Therma rolled her eyes, making sure the motion was carried through her head so that he would know. He was such a drag, putting her on clean up duty when she had this much power burning in her body. "Relaaaaaax Percy! It's fire. I'll have it all dead and gone in a jiff, and then you can save the day, or somethin'."

Therma leapt forward into the middle of the lab, laughing aloud as she drew the heat from the flames into her. The fires all around the lab began to sputter and die, their heat being drawn away. Bullets clattered off her armor, but Therma was heedless. She could feel her power rising, and with it, her high. In a few moments, the fires were all gone and Therma moved towards the mechs, her arm blades out and glowing with their heat. "Come on, come on! Time to turn all of you back to scrap and ash!" She sliced through one, the robot exploding, rushing the others with another cackle.
Lori bummed a pistol off of one of the Marshall's rolling her eyes as they left it to her and her friends. WARDEN trained or not, they were still kids. So much for the valor of the Marshalls. She hopped into the back of the truck and listened carefully to Zimmy's report. Great, Mist everywhere. Just what they needed for a squad made up of people who used magic a lot. She spent the truck ride checking over her pistol. She trusted her squad to keep an eye on their six as they made the approach, and didn't want to bet her life on someone else's gun maintenance habits. Fortunately, the Marshall had been evidently rigorous in his maintenance and the pistol was in fine condition.

She hopped out of the truck as they arrived, slapping a hand at Kitty as the girl dragged nails down her neck "I'm going to stab you!" She said as she brought her pistol up. It wasn't serious, but now really wasn't the time for jokes. Her insects flew out of her body and spread around the crater, examining everything. "Be careful, loves."

Lori kept her pistol ready as they fanned out. Reality was warped and there was a lot of devastation, but not much sign of the living. Her breath hissed out as Setzer and Gideon identified one of the bodies as both Vangar and members of the Royal Guard. There was only one reason why those bastards would be this far into Rassvet territory, in something that was more of a luxury liner than a war ship, with the Imperial Royal Guard aboard. She accessed the communication link, scanning the area around her.

"The pod is the only sign of life. Everywhere else is filled with the dead and the destroyed. My scouts can't find anything else. Quick question; Why the fuck is the diplomatic mission all the way out here? And who would shoot them down? Vangar Royal Guard don't just go into Rassvet territory unannounced, on what amounts to a military death trap, and plan to invade. Much less in uniform." She went over with Setzer as he approached the pod, covering him. Gideon would take care of Zimmy, and then she'd smack the idiot of a girl for giving herself mistburn. She smothered that voice in the back of her head, the one who kept telling her that there wasn't anyone out here to tell who was killed by what, and that she could easily finish off whatever survivor's they found. Just like they had finished off those who tried hiding in Astran. "I've got you covered for when you open the pod, Setz."

No. You're better than them. You're not going to do that. She wished she could sound sure to herself.
En Route to Hoth

Harsk was doing his ritual before every mission or planned fight, the first part being cleaning and checking his equipment. It was a good luck charm of sorts. It was always wise to have one's equipment operating at peak efficiency before you entered a fight, and the fact that the few times he hadn't cleansed and looked over hisloadout before a mission had all resulted in disaster (most notably, the loss of all his Jagganth points) only served to prove to Harsk that there was something to cleaning and examining his gear. Whether it be the Scorekeeper's approval (his personal opinion), the Force, or simply luck, it was something that had only ever helped him.

He had picked up Evamadi's communication while passing through the system on his way to another job. Upon hearing that she was a jedi, he promptly informed his client that he was no longer searching for the target, and had his X-10D droid pilot (fondly called Exxy) take them towards the planet. Where there were Jedi, especially Jedi in trouble, there was bound to be opportunity for Jagganth points. And rescued jedi had the full bank of the Republic behind them to pay him for his efforts.

Carefully placing the sonic rifle back on the rack, Harsk made his way through the small halls of his ship The Scorekeepers' Blessed (The Blessed for short), towards his trophy room. The second part of his ritual was to remember his past victories and their near failures. He walked into the room, stopping by each carefully preserved item. These were the best of his victories as both a slaver and a bounty hunter. A silverback Wookie pelt, the last berserker of his clan. He had killed seven of Harsk's fellow slavers before Harsk had ended him.

The hilt of a broken vibroblade, the weapon of a champion Rodian duelist. He had killed many Bounty Hunters before Harsk, and nearly killed Harsk himself. He was too reliant upon his blade. When Harsk broke it, he was left defenseless. The warped remains of a blaster sniper rifle. A Gungan sharpshooter's favorite weapon. Harsk had been trying to kill him with three other bounty Hunters, and had finally decided to simply blow up the building the target was in when those three fell to his precise shots.

A cracked Mandalorian helmet. The warrior had insulted a very rich Hutt before attempting to leave Nar Shadda. Harsk had tracked him down by the bodies and the screaming as the Mandalorian and his two fellows killed anyone trying to stop them. Harsk had ended up throwing a grenade to separate them and tackled the target off of one of the walkways and onto a lower level. The human had fought well, with all the brutal training his culture was known for, but there was only so much one could do when plummeting 40 feet and struggling with a Trandoshan on top of you.

And finally, in the center piece of the room, two lightsabers. One warped and blackened, completely unusable. The other still pristine, even after all this time. Drakran's training was invaluable in reclaiming his Jagganth points, and Harsk would never forget it.

As if summoned by the mere thought of his name, Drakran's voice echoed through the ship's comms. Harsk grinned at the message, heading towards the cockpit. "Harsk, two more ships detected en route to Hoth. One identified as Drakran's, the other unknown." Exxy informed him, the droid continuing to pilot The Blessed towards the ice planet. "Excellent. Patch me through to Drakran." Exxy complied, and soon Harsk was facing a hologram of the Zabrak sith. "Drakran, you're in luck. I picked up the transmission by that Jedi too, and was to curious to ignore it. We're already in the same system. I have your ship on my radar, along with someone else. Why don't we land next to each other, and then go investigate whatever this issue of Evamadi Tashar's is, hmm? I presume its the same goals as usual? Kill the Jedi, hurt the Republic? Tell you what, since Jedi give such a bonus to Jagganth Points, and I like you, I'll help you for half price."
Lori smiled faintly as the banter went on, leaning forward on her seat. There would be plenty of time to face the harsh realities that awaited them. For now, it was better to dream and to laugh. The grinding of a boot on gravel made her instinctively jump and tense, glancing over her shoulder. She only slightly relaxed at the sight of of the Marshall. This was a police state, after all. And WARDENS or no, if there was something only slightly wrong with their papers, things could get ugly.

Still, she trusted Gideon as he waved them down, idly reaching down and picking up her bottle as if it was still full. Her other hand remained open and facing the talking pair, ready to cast a ward should the gunman that Gid saw decide to shoot. He shouldn't, their papers were probably the most carefully organized in this entire area. But, as the Marshall said, 'you can never be too careful around these parts'. She watched them idly, waiting for something either good or bad to happen. Everything seemed to be going fine, Gideon's paper checking out, the Marshall getting ready to let them go. Lori relaxed back into her seat, ready to get another actual beer. Hopefully their night would continue uninterrupted after this.

She should have known better.

Lori stood up from her seat as the airship fell from the sky, a burning behemoth. "Shit." She breathed in a mix of horror and awe, reaching for her phone. The clean up for that would require more than just the seven of them and whatever the Marshalls had on hand. She looked down at her phone, ready to make the call, and then frowned. No signal. That's...inconvenient. She looked up as the ground shook and a distant explosion sounded. The ship must have made a final, explosive, landfall. She found the odds of anyone surviving that to be slim to none, especially after witnessing the parachutes getting shredded on the descent, but there was still a chance. They needed to investigate that chance at the very least.

"Bit too big for ours." Lori replied to Galahad, dropping her bottle and moving over to the truck. "Well, come on. We're the closest thing to a rescue team right now. If, somehow, it is one of ours we need to help any survivors. And if it's not one of ours, we need to then secure any survivors and figure out what the hell it was doing in Rassvet airspace at this time of night." She looked expectantly at her friends and the Marshall. This was, after all, his detachment.
Flipping hell. Talk about making a nasty character really damn believable and great to read. Great sheet dude, and I'm so glad to read such a great 'Dark Side' sheet after all of those sissy Goody sheets... I kid, I kid.... ;) There is SOOO much to unpack here. I'm so glad you got this finished in time. I absolutely want your character in this RP. His perspective is fascinating, his motives, his backstory. Just brilliant stuff :) Similarly to some advice I have already given, is don't be afraid to show his other colours - if he has any warmth, any 'good' emotions, to round him out and make him even more fascinating to watch and enjoyable to hate! I'm really excited to see a naughty bounty hunter and I think he'll add an edge to this RP I was hoping we would have. Post up the CS as is! :)

You're so enthusiastic and wholesome about these reviews Stormy, it's great. I really appreciate everything said. I'll see if I can't find a way to show some of his nicer qualities during the RP, and am excited for this RP to get going!

Rtron is one of our former players in our own now-ended grand scale SW rp. He is excellent at Trandoshans.

Warning: you may will end up getting a very detailed sheet once that happens.
For our last rp the bio segment covering about a month ended up as a 68-page collab (with coGM), and it did not even cover the last fourteen days.

Disclaimer: I've only written one Trandoshan before this.

Also fixed your Warning for you. :p.

Bangkok, Thailand.

Screams and smoke. Fire and death. Old companions to Marcus, especially after E-Day. The chaos raged around him as he laid on the roof, searching for a target. He detested the chaos, truth be told. Not from a morals point, he was long past that. He had done all this and worse during E-day and beyond, killing and destroying in the name of the Legion. He detested it because it was almost impossible to predict. No amount of planning or intelligence could prepare you for chaos like this, and in Marcus' line of work being prepared was often the only thing that kept you from being another body in an unmarked grave in the second cold war. In this war, he could end up facing a god like being capable of destroying entire cities with little effort, whose strengths were as numerous as the stars and whose weaknesses were as few as the unaffiliated nations left in the world. Marcus would like to have one of those weaknesses in his back pocket if that time came. Preparation was, and always will be, key.

His sniper rifle cracked, and a trained meta of the junta fell back, dead. Mostly, Marcus was bored here. There was no challenge. No real need for any preparation, regardless of the chaos. The League had no presence here, and Thailand had no true heroes or villains of its own. Just half trained soldiers, unprepared for an assault like this. There was nothing to really worry about or prepare for unexpected or not. He resumed scanning the area for priority targets such as officers or more metas, a spot of calm in a sea of chaos. He still had a job to do, regardless of how he felt about it.

Argonaut spoke over his comm piece, updating them on the status of the invasion and the location of the target. Vortex interjected before Marcus could acknowledge, the man's flippant remarks and voice drawing an annoyed sigh. Vortex was everything Marcus was not, and as such got on his nerves more than he did others. Still, his effectiveness and powers were undeniable and made up for his quirks. If only just.

"This is Gunsmith. My squad and I have received the information, heading towards the Parliament building now." He stood and attached his sniper rifle to his back, dropping from the top of the building to the ground below. He moved through the chaos, ignoring the rebels and the civilians, heading rapidly to the Parliament building. Switching his comms over to that of the squad under his command, organizing them. "Colt, is that entrance into the parliament building secured?" "Yes it is. The squad of Juntas is ready to let us in, provided we hold up our end of the deal."

Before the attack on the city had begun, Gunsmith had entered Bangkok with his squad to prepare as best they could. One of those preparations involved convincing a squad of Junta soldiers, tasked with guarding the Parliament building in case of an event such as this, to let them into the building during the attack. In return, they would be spared from the wrath of the rebels by the Legion.

"Excellent. Smith, Wesson, Ruger, Remington, Browning, meet with Colt and I at the marked spot. Invisibility on, we don't want to attract attention." Marcus brought up his HUD, marking the position of entry into the Parliament on their maps, before heading there himself. His invisibility technology covering him as he moved carefully and quietly through the cordon around the Parliament, making his way towards the side entrance. In moments he and his team (made of other cyborg soldiers like him) were there, facing the surrendering Junta squad as they ended their cloaking. They were hidden by the walls that extended beyond the door, but anyone could walk through or around in moments. They needed this over quickly.

"You did good, and as promised you will be spared whatever cruel fate the rebels have in store for you." His blade deployed from his arm and he moved forward with unnatural speed, sinking it into the throat of the junta in front of him. His squad followed suit almost instantly, and it was all over in a second. No sound, no alarms.

"Alright, orders are to clear the parliament building and get to the General. Get in, do it quietly, and then make our way to the elevator. Cloaks on, be careful. We want them to think that only Vortex has gotten through, and to focus their efforts on him. Go." With their cloaks all activated, Marcus and his squad slipped into the parliament. As expected, there were more guards and turrets. Most of them were distracted or moving towards the violence and carnage caused by Vortex, and none of them were expecting invisible cyborgs to slip through the door.

In a few minutes, the turrets were disabled and the guards dead. Marcus cleaned the blood off of his blade, contacting Argonaut. "This is Marcus. Eastern side of the Parliament building cleared. Making our way to the elevator to rendezvous with Vortex." He pulled his shotgun from his back, preparing for close quarters gun fights. "Move out. Kill any threat. Don't waste your ammo on civilians."


Chihuanhuan Desert, Mexico

Kayda was quiet most of the trip and build up to the lab, concentrating on gathering heat inside of her at a steady rate. Simple drug bust or no, this was still the Legion they were dealing with, and she needed to be as strong as she could be and as clear headed as she could be during it. Thus, those around her would begin to feel a steady chill as she drew in more and more heat from the area. She could only chuckle at the scientist that had appeared from a van. Maybelline was cute in her nervousness. Which, Kayda supposed, was natural given that she was surrounded by armed and armored super heroes. She was certain she didn't look all that friendly in her Therma armor. Or her Thermor, as she liked to call it (much to the groans of those around her).

Right, drug ring. Nothing to serious, can't confirm if they've done anything worse yet. We'll go nonlethal and do as Perseus says.

She was in the middle of the group as they entered the laboratory, continuing to draw in heat (now at over 600 degrees Celsius), an uneasy feeling washing over her as they moved in. This was going down too smoothly, and there weren't nearly enough guards for a Legion drug operation. Something wasn't right.

She was proven right when they finally saw exactly what was going on in the labs. The scenes of torture and brutality brought back memories of E-day, and Kayda's breathing grew heavy as she struggled to gain control of both her writhing emotions and roiling stomach. Part of her wanted to burn this place to ash. Another part wanted to close her eyes and curl into a ball, pretending none of it existed. A third just wanted to throw up. She decided to put her trust in the first one, fury burning away the terror and the sickness. Her blades extended from her armor's forearms as Bloodsport made his get away. Fuck nonlethal. She dove behind cover with the rest, looking up at the six turrets as Perseus shouted orders. She could fry them from this distance, sure, but that'd require a lot of heat. Heat she wasn't willing to expend.

"Better idea!" she shouted back, taking a running leap up the wall. Bullets pinged off of her armor as the turrets focused on her, likely with many other enemies, but Kayda didn't care. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins and it was time to make these bastards pay. Her blades glowed white as she super heated them, jumping towards the first turret and forcing more heat out of her make shift jet pack. Flying, she sliced through the top of the turret, causing it to fall from the ceiling. Driving one of her blades into the ceiling above her, she threw herself at the next turret, slicing through it with her free hand. She repeated this process for the other four, throwing herself when she could and flying when she couldn't.

With the six turrets destroyed, Therma paused in mid-air. Chuckling at Maybelline's information. A literal Achilles heel in her suit of armor. Interesting, but she didn't have the electricity to deal with them, nor were they close enough to be a threat yet. She looked down, seeing the enemies Venom monsters still advancing despite their losses. "Can't have that, can we?" She ceased her flight and fell to the ground on top of one of the Venom goons, bending over to look him in the eyes. "Hi there! Do you come to this place often?" As his hand reached up to grab her (and probably break her spine afterwards) she clenched her hand around his overly large bicep. Suddenly, every trace of heat left his body and he was flash frozen. Boiling with far more heat than she expected, Therma crowed in delight. She loved this feeling. This sense of invincibility. "WHOOO That's a lot of body heat!" She extended her hands towards the Legion soldiers and Bloodsport firing at them, and let rip with wild abandon. Fire streaked from her hands and roasted a some of them, merely forcing others to stop firing to take cover. Therma laughed madly as she did so, the energy boiling inside of her. She was an angry volcano god, raging at those who dared oppose her, bringing justice to the those who dared-

A large meaty fist grabbed her, lifting her up like a toy doll. The angry volcano god squeaked. She felt her flames sputter out in surprise as she was lifted up. Instinctively her feet kicked out, catching on the Venom thug's chest as she tried to free herself. She had expended a lot of heat, now down to just 200 degrees Celsius, in her 'angry volcano god' fire and didn't have the passive strength to free herself. Her jetpack activated again as she put as much heat as she dared through it, dropping down to around 90 degrees Celsius, burning the Venom user as she tried to free herself. He bellowed in pain, and threw her with all his might.

Therma crashed onto the floor and skidded to a stop next to Perseus, looking up as abashedly as she could through her armor. "Okay. Maybe I got carried away." A speedster suddenly appeared, begrudgingly asking if she could help. "Gee, person who just sprinted through bullets and laser fire with no problems what so ever, I don't think there's anything you could do. After all, what could we use with someone who can run faster than bullets." Sarcasm dripped from every word as she scrambled behind cover, next to the good doctor, concentrating on gathering more heat. "Things are gonna get a little cold around here. Sorry if that mess with your cybernetics, but I need heat to do things other than sit around and mouth off."
Nanine had been helping another refugee family when the Dominion arrived. Panicked voices and cries drew her attention to an approaching force. Expecting an attack, she hurriedly told the family to take shelter before heading over to the commotion with her hand on her blade. Instead of finding a Dominion army cutting its way to Skingrad, she found the High Elves handing out food and supplies to the needy and attempting to bring calm to the chaos. It nonplussed her, stopping her in her tracks. This was a Dominion trick, obviously, but how would this help them? Count Hassildor still held the walls of Skingrad, and while the refugees could be stirred into a mob, they were no soldiers. Nanine would get her answer only a few hours later, as it was announced that Skingrad had capitulated to the Dominion and was now firmly under its control. With no other familiar sight around the camp, and no one else she could truly trust at this point, Nanine fell back to the camp she had spent the night at a few days ago. She found them in preparations to leave, and leave quickly, only waiting for their members who had gone with the rangers. When those haggard few arrived, it was with more bad news; The Dwemer had laid a trap for them, and killed almost everyone.

When given the choice to leave or stay in Skingrad, Nanine went with Calen's wagon. She didn't trust the Dominion, and the group seemed to have a better plan than simply 'head a direction that is away from both the Dominion and the Dwemer.' So it was that she walked with them too Anvil. She was mostly quiet during the trip, contemplative. As much as she disliked the Dominion, she had to admire the boldness of the move. Too come as saviors instead of conquerors and pretend to be interested in helping the refugees against the callousness of the Empire and the cruelty of the Dominion was a stroke of brilliance. Their claims that they can defend against the Deep Elves were concerning. Either they Dominion arrogantly believed itself strong enough to beat back the Dwemer with their strange staves and mechanical creations, or they had something up their sleeves that ensured the Dwemer wouldn't attack.

Nanine wasn't sure which was worse.

As they got ever closer to Anvil, Nanine found herself regretting her choice, designed for Skyrim's cold, and her armor. The heat grew steadily more uncomfortable until she was forced to remove her armor. Getting out of her armor provided some relief, but not all. She would need to buy clothes more suited to the climate when they reached Anvil. The city was a much welcome change from the panic of Skingrad. Everything seemed under control and calm, with the expansive presence of the Legion doing much. News had already reached the city about Skingrad's fall, however, and tension was beginning to rise. The Legions could take on one foe, certainly. But two? One of whom had already almost beaten them, the other a completely unknown factor? People's faith in the Empire was beginning to strain.

The legionnaires in Anvil were desperate for any news. Nanine provided what information she could, readily. While she could only provide limited information about Skingrad, beyond a name and an accurate representation of its new count and what she had seen the Thalmor doing in the refugee camp, she could provide more information about the Dwemer and their constructs. She was only with the Legionnaires an hour, much of her information already being covered by Daro'Vasora, but her drawings and notes on them were readily taken by the Legion, if met with a bit of skepticism on how accurate she claimed them to be. Given a small pouch of gold coins and thanked for her service, Nanine headed out into the city to buy more weather appropriate clothing, and to stock up on some of the supplies she had lost in Skingrad and on the trip.

A few hours later, her pack restocked with supplies (including a new blanket, some extra clothes, and some more soul gems to practice with) and her clothes switched for something designed to let heat go rather than keep it in, Nanine carefully stored half of her remaining gold in the bottom of her pack. She would use the rest to wander the city, and see if there was anything interesting it had to offer beyond food that wasn't cooked over a campfire and a sense of normalcy. Securely tying her coins to her hip, Nanine headed into the city to see what it had to offer.
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