- Last Seen: 8 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Sarpedon
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 1097 (0.24 / day)
- VMs: 2
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Username history
- Sarpedon 12 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
10 yrs ago
Current
I'M BACK! Hit me up!
10 yrs ago
Leaving 20 September until 30 October. Going to be a shitty time in the field. Probably going to be a week after that before I even think about writing again.
1
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10 yrs ago
Going on exercise as of 19 September. Not sure if I am going for 3 or 6 weeks...
10 yrs ago
Vacation time! Will try to keep posting, but can't guarantee anything, please be patient.
2
likes
10 yrs ago
RIP in peace, Bauble. We barely knew ye...
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Bio
ATTENTION:
Course is over! Whoop! Whoop!
I have no fucking clue what the fuck is going on.
Posting speed and availability is subject to change without notice, and I won't have internet when my vacation ends, which is tomorrow...
Thank you, have a nice day!
Course is over! Whoop! Whoop!
I have no fucking clue what the fuck is going on.
Posting speed and availability is subject to change without notice, and I won't have internet when my vacation ends, which is tomorrow...
Thank you, have a nice day!
Most Recent Posts
da xigxig needs to get her attractive buttocks over here and postinate.
I'm good, waiting for xiggy. how are you?
I just didn't want to be "that guy" who steals all the special/heavy weapons before the show starts. if we end up needing either he'll spring for it.
Sheet is up, what do you think?
Name: Marbas Sabnack
Age: 352
Physical Description: Generally considered to be fairly average for a space marine, Marbas appears as the perfect rank-and-file marine for any company, a fact that has often disappointed the warrior. As grizzled as anyone else who had seen as much combat as he had, Marbas has his own collection of scars of various sizes and shapes, and more than a few plasma burns, which he wears proudly, from his time as a Devastator marine. The most notable thing about him, aside from the plasma burn on the left side of his face, which also fused together his little collection of service studs on his forehead, is probably the mohawk he insists on wearing. He keeps it neatly trimmed to fit comfortably under his helmet, but the shock of hair is more than noticeable when his headgear is removed. In this instance, Marbas is convinced he lucked out, as his hair happens to stand up mostly on its own, leaving him with a very proud, if short, mohawk, that he maintains despite his circumstances. More than a few have accused him of vanity for it, but the super-human insists that it is a form of meditation. In similar fashion, he maintains all of his equipment personally and meticulously, tending to it during times of meditation, and only seeking help when the problem is insurmountable on his own.
Character History: Marbas has no memory of how he got into the first legion. His oldest memory is that of waking up as a scout, ready to serve with a band of other scouts he had never met before, ready to fight and die for the Emperor. He showed great promise as a scout, consistently rated amongst the top quarter of all the recruits. His skill with heavy weapons was legendary amongst his fellows. One such operation, where he was handed the squad's rocket launcher earned him his marineship, when a skillful, and some say lucky, shot, disabled key enemy defenses at the Fortress of Kaligar. This got him assigned to the third company, where he would remain for the rest of his career. Initially a Devastator, he put his skills to good use, toting a plasma cannon for the Second Squad of Devastators. After numerous engagements, the warrior was looking forward to many long years as a devastator. Of course, his training was not complete, and he was moved to an assault squad. Decidedly less enthusiastic, Marbas took out his disappointment on the Emperor's foes, and that helped a little. And after numerous requests, he was moved back to a Devastator squad, to once again man a plasma cannon for the Emperor. Unfortunately for him, Marbas was reassigned once more when replacements were needed in the Third Company's tactical squads During the Seige of Vraks. On a positive note, that same engagement earned him a rather rare and well-kept suit of Mk IV power armour, awarded to him for his valour and skill in combat against both Chaos and the Heretic. He also managed to get his hands on a Combi-Plasma gun, which was a half-decent consolation prize, given the situation. Having gotten about as close as he could manage to his desired position, the super-soldier resolved to serve the Emperor well, that he might get to tote a plasma cannon for he Emperor once more. In the mean time, he continues his requests to carry the squad's special or heavy weapon, on the condition that it be a plasma weapon. At this point, however, he is convinced that the sergeant continues to deny the requests because the amount of ammunition Marbas carries into battle is incredibly useful.
Psychological Profile: As a talented heavy-weapons operator, Marbas is often described as "resolute" and "undauntable". His firm belief in overwhelming firepower is often appreciated by his battle-brothers, but saw him often at a disadvantage during his time as an assault marine. On his own time, the marine is generally friendly and happy to help, something he attributes to his talent as a Devastator. "Well-liked" would be an appropriate term to describe his relationship with his fellows. His tendency to carry ridiculous amounts of ammunition has more than once gotten him favour amongst his brothers when their bolters ran dry. His love for plasma is the only oddity to be found. Marbas seems to have a passion for the stuff unmatched by any other member of the chapter. Something not everyone is fond of, considering the reliability of such weapons...
Equipment:
Mk IV Power Armour - modified backpack, originally purposed for heavy bolter ammunition, the additional space is now used to house additional Boltgun magazines
Mk IIIa Godwyn Pattern Combi-Plasma Gun - plasma gun is top-mounted, handguard is fitted with gripod
Mk V Wrathfire Pattern Plasma Pistol
Combat Knife
Plasma Grenades
Blind Grenades
A variety of ammunition based on what is available pre-deployment, bombed-up in sixty-round drums, stored in his backpack, and on his custom webgear.
Age: 352
Physical Description: Generally considered to be fairly average for a space marine, Marbas appears as the perfect rank-and-file marine for any company, a fact that has often disappointed the warrior. As grizzled as anyone else who had seen as much combat as he had, Marbas has his own collection of scars of various sizes and shapes, and more than a few plasma burns, which he wears proudly, from his time as a Devastator marine. The most notable thing about him, aside from the plasma burn on the left side of his face, which also fused together his little collection of service studs on his forehead, is probably the mohawk he insists on wearing. He keeps it neatly trimmed to fit comfortably under his helmet, but the shock of hair is more than noticeable when his headgear is removed. In this instance, Marbas is convinced he lucked out, as his hair happens to stand up mostly on its own, leaving him with a very proud, if short, mohawk, that he maintains despite his circumstances. More than a few have accused him of vanity for it, but the super-human insists that it is a form of meditation. In similar fashion, he maintains all of his equipment personally and meticulously, tending to it during times of meditation, and only seeking help when the problem is insurmountable on his own.
Character History: Marbas has no memory of how he got into the first legion. His oldest memory is that of waking up as a scout, ready to serve with a band of other scouts he had never met before, ready to fight and die for the Emperor. He showed great promise as a scout, consistently rated amongst the top quarter of all the recruits. His skill with heavy weapons was legendary amongst his fellows. One such operation, where he was handed the squad's rocket launcher earned him his marineship, when a skillful, and some say lucky, shot, disabled key enemy defenses at the Fortress of Kaligar. This got him assigned to the third company, where he would remain for the rest of his career. Initially a Devastator, he put his skills to good use, toting a plasma cannon for the Second Squad of Devastators. After numerous engagements, the warrior was looking forward to many long years as a devastator. Of course, his training was not complete, and he was moved to an assault squad. Decidedly less enthusiastic, Marbas took out his disappointment on the Emperor's foes, and that helped a little. And after numerous requests, he was moved back to a Devastator squad, to once again man a plasma cannon for the Emperor. Unfortunately for him, Marbas was reassigned once more when replacements were needed in the Third Company's tactical squads During the Seige of Vraks. On a positive note, that same engagement earned him a rather rare and well-kept suit of Mk IV power armour, awarded to him for his valour and skill in combat against both Chaos and the Heretic. He also managed to get his hands on a Combi-Plasma gun, which was a half-decent consolation prize, given the situation. Having gotten about as close as he could manage to his desired position, the super-soldier resolved to serve the Emperor well, that he might get to tote a plasma cannon for he Emperor once more. In the mean time, he continues his requests to carry the squad's special or heavy weapon, on the condition that it be a plasma weapon. At this point, however, he is convinced that the sergeant continues to deny the requests because the amount of ammunition Marbas carries into battle is incredibly useful.
Psychological Profile: As a talented heavy-weapons operator, Marbas is often described as "resolute" and "undauntable". His firm belief in overwhelming firepower is often appreciated by his battle-brothers, but saw him often at a disadvantage during his time as an assault marine. On his own time, the marine is generally friendly and happy to help, something he attributes to his talent as a Devastator. "Well-liked" would be an appropriate term to describe his relationship with his fellows. His tendency to carry ridiculous amounts of ammunition has more than once gotten him favour amongst his brothers when their bolters ran dry. His love for plasma is the only oddity to be found. Marbas seems to have a passion for the stuff unmatched by any other member of the chapter. Something not everyone is fond of, considering the reliability of such weapons...
Equipment:
Mk IV Power Armour - modified backpack, originally purposed for heavy bolter ammunition, the additional space is now used to house additional Boltgun magazines
Mk IIIa Godwyn Pattern Combi-Plasma Gun - plasma gun is top-mounted, handguard is fitted with gripod
Mk V Wrathfire Pattern Plasma Pistol
Combat Knife
Plasma Grenades
Blind Grenades
A variety of ammunition based on what is available pre-deployment, bombed-up in sixty-round drums, stored in his backpack, and on his custom webgear.
Gerry shrugged when he got lectured on how things worked around here. But when the director told him he didn't get an FAC, the operator looked wounded. He raised an eyebrow when Elizabeth started talking again. "Why am I partnered with the equivalent of a two thousand pound JDAM?" he demanded of the man in charge. If she was serious about that quip, he wanted out. How was he supposed to control that? It wasn't like he was needed at all. Put a headset on her and set her out. The fact that he was needed at all worried him. He shook his head, and looked like he had shaken it off. It was something to contemplate later, in the dark. For now, it seemed it was time to collect his new kit.
They got to the place, and he was given the usual sheet. He picked out what he needed, signed the form, returned it, and then whenever he went on an operation, this things would be there, waiting, magazines pre-bombed just the way he liked them. The earpiece he tried out right away, and he kept it, Gerry wasn't going to lose it, and it was the sort of thing that could be useful anytime. He pocketed the keys and controller as well, figuring those would be things to hold onto. Mostly he supposed he had to pick out weapons again. It was a fairly typical arrangement. The agent picked a sidearm, kitting out an M9 to his field specifications, and then he began looking through the extensive collection of primary weapons. They had everything military grade, from twenty-twos to fifties and anything and everything in between. He swore to himself, wondering what would be any good against the supernatural. He didn't know, he had to admit, he had no clue, so he fell back on his operational favourites. He picked through their collection of Kalashnikov rifles and selected one of those, along with the shortest of the M16 variants they had on hand. Depending on the operation, he would have to choose. And then, because he was always prepared, he picked out a pair of sub-machine guns as well. The man running the armoury gave him a look. Gerry returned it. After a moment the other man shook his head and threw his hands up in the air, admitting defeat. Some operators were clearly too prepared in his mind.
Not caring, Gerald filled out his sheet properly, adding notes to make sure they didn't screw up his set-up. The last thing he needed was to go into battle with a weapon that wasn't set up for his muscle memory. It was always workable, of course, but it wouldn't be smooth, and it wouldn't be pleasant. Operations that didn't go smoothly got on the evening news. He pushed the sheet through the slot with a smile, nodding to the man who had to deal with all this crap, before turning to leave. It was almost eight, and he was stressed out from all the weird shit, he needed a drink...
They got to the place, and he was given the usual sheet. He picked out what he needed, signed the form, returned it, and then whenever he went on an operation, this things would be there, waiting, magazines pre-bombed just the way he liked them. The earpiece he tried out right away, and he kept it, Gerry wasn't going to lose it, and it was the sort of thing that could be useful anytime. He pocketed the keys and controller as well, figuring those would be things to hold onto. Mostly he supposed he had to pick out weapons again. It was a fairly typical arrangement. The agent picked a sidearm, kitting out an M9 to his field specifications, and then he began looking through the extensive collection of primary weapons. They had everything military grade, from twenty-twos to fifties and anything and everything in between. He swore to himself, wondering what would be any good against the supernatural. He didn't know, he had to admit, he had no clue, so he fell back on his operational favourites. He picked through their collection of Kalashnikov rifles and selected one of those, along with the shortest of the M16 variants they had on hand. Depending on the operation, he would have to choose. And then, because he was always prepared, he picked out a pair of sub-machine guns as well. The man running the armoury gave him a look. Gerry returned it. After a moment the other man shook his head and threw his hands up in the air, admitting defeat. Some operators were clearly too prepared in his mind.
Not caring, Gerald filled out his sheet properly, adding notes to make sure they didn't screw up his set-up. The last thing he needed was to go into battle with a weapon that wasn't set up for his muscle memory. It was always workable, of course, but it wouldn't be smooth, and it wouldn't be pleasant. Operations that didn't go smoothly got on the evening news. He pushed the sheet through the slot with a smile, nodding to the man who had to deal with all this crap, before turning to leave. It was almost eight, and he was stressed out from all the weird shit, he needed a drink...
you're getting there then. Good work tracker.
everyone says they are working, but no sheets yet...
I was thinking it would be a dungeon-y place, but it could be literally anywhere completely dark... up to you I guess...
just fill in all the blanks and don't worry about it. always the best policy
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