Heh, I live in Oklahoma as well, RoadRash. You wouldn't happen to be in the western end of the state would you?
Posting is finished.
Posting is finished.
- Last Seen: 14 hrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Tearstone
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 829 (0.18 / day)
- VMs: 3
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Username history
- Tearstone 12 yrs ago
Status
Recent Statuses
2 yrs ago
Current
Hoping for a good turkey-day...
1
like
2 yrs ago
If you can't dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bs
4
likes
2 yrs ago
Driving a sandworm through a pre-school...
1
like
3 yrs ago
Remember, punishable by fine means legal for a price.
4
likes
4 yrs ago
♪♫♪ Don't climb up the rope. Dont haul up the mast. And if ya see a sailin' ship it might'n be yer last...♪♫♪
1
like
Bio
Tearstone
Summary
Name: Tearstone
Aliases: Tearstone
Age: 33
Birthday: March 13th
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Location: Resides in western Oklahoma
Gender:
Major/Minor: Associates degree in Occupational Studies - Massage Therapy
Occupation: Unemployed/Under-employed Cert. Massage Therapist, freelance writer
Languages: Fluent in English, Bad English/Profanity. Knowledgeable of Japanese, Spanish, and Latin.
Current Bio Theme: None
Years Rping: 20 years
Preferred Rp Section: Typically casual or advanced.
Rp Level: High casual to advanced.
Dedication Level: I don't know what yardstick to measure this with. It all depends on my interest, if I'm enjoying the writing and my partners.
Biggest Rp Pet Peeve: If you one-line me and use chatspeak where it doesn't belong, I will CUT you. Pay attention to lore and genre conventions. DO NOT fall silent on me. IF you're bored, say so. If something happens, freaking tell me. I want to get to know my partners out of character too.
Teach New Rpers Or Coach New GM's: Yes. Very much so. I love teaching and doing what I can to improve people's skills, and challenge their ability. I love fostering growth.
Appearance
Height: 5' 7"
Weight: Overweight
Build: Ectomorphic, athletic. Built like a tank... or a tall dwarf
Eyes: Hazel-gray, but color shift with light and mood.
Hair: Chocolate brown, collar length currently. May grow out again.
Skin Tone: Light, tan decently in summer, but I live like basement cat.
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: No tats or piercings. Scar, right wrist (1 cun (3 finger widths), medial from hand crease.) Sits across radial bone on anterior, 45° angle, looks self inflicted, but is actually from fending off an attacker in middle school. Burn scar left knee, the size of a quarter. Stuck knee against hot muffler of lawn mower on accident around 2004. Burn scar torso lower right quadrant inferior to navel and one inch lateral, spilled hot-ass ramen on self last winter. Some of the liquid got lodged in waist band of shorts and caused burn.
Personal Style:
Psychology
Intelligent * Procrastinator * Intuitive * Apathetic * Flexible/Adaptable * Cynical
Sexuality: Kinsey 2
Relationship Status: Semi-open longterm relationship/domestic partnership
Personality: INTJ/P, Turbulent quality. Swings to INFJ/P at times. Born a Pisces, much of Tearston's personality has been altered by their experiences, bu thtey still posses a deep emotional reservoir. Highly creative, great with abstract reasoning and special reasoning, Tear spends much time considering many problems. The overall personality has lead to a life of creative and intellectual pursuits.
Habits:
Hobbies: Reading, writing/RPing, PC gaming especially MMORPG's, graphic design work. Trained in martial arts from the age of 7. Is a firearms and explosives enthusiast. Is enthusiastic about all things militaria, and has a keep interest in law enforcement as well. Music - listening, spinning records and live mixing, writing music and producing in digital audio workspaces such as FL Studio (Fruity Loops). Tear has been a musician since the sixth grade, and is self-taught on a few instruments not learned in school. Singing is another hobby band while somewhat skilled, they are terribly self-conscious about singing for others. Hiking, bushcraft and survival skills. Cooking is a joy and passion, and is considered to be an art form.
Fears: Tearstone has arachnaphobia to a moderate degree. Blame watching the movie by the same name when they were little. Fears physical trauma especially surgery. This gives them the heebie-jeebies. They don't care for needles but will endure some poking and prodding. Tearstone fears leaving behind a negative legacy for their loved ones.
Dislikes:
Cards On The Table
Rp's Currently Gming: None on RPG
Rp's Currently Enjoying: None on RPG. Play by post Tabletop game on FB for Storm King's Thunder though.
Past RP's Enjoyed:
Other Places Of Interest:
Favorite Posts: Stay tuned.
Upcoming Works: The Raptor Company (a fantasy novel), Crucible, (a sci-fi novel)
History
What Brings You To Role Player Guild: Roleplay
Life Before You Came To Role Player Guild: Tearstone was a member of several play by post, forum RP's and chat RP's as well as in-game RP groups in various MMO's including World of Warcraft, Eve Online, Neverwinter Nights, Champions Online, and so on.
Life Since You Came To Role Player Guild: See above, not much has changed. Tearstone has made it through two major site crashes, but is still confident in Mahz.
Extras
Quotes or Sayings:
Theme Song: Really?
Advice To The World: Stop. Think about what you're doing. Think about the consequences and repercussions. Love each other.
Anything Else: - Nothing right now.
Most Recent Posts
As the echoes died down from the report of gunfire and grenades, one of which he was guilty of, Elijah made sure he was reloaded, then glanced around. Seeing no more movement, he shuddered a bit. Scooting around, he peered into the gory mess that was the cockpit then sighed. "Guess we don't have to scuttle the chopper. The radio is down, and nothing else looks like it's salvageable," he reported. Gingerly he searched the bodies and pulled a couple pistol mags from them, slipping them into a pocket.
Pulling off his ALICE pack, he opened the top flap and pulled out his boonie hat and put it on. With his pack ratcheted back down he squinted a little. For the moment, he wasn't giving much thought to the situation. It was just another day in Charlie's outhouse. The whole thing was a shit sandwich as far as he was concerned. His hands were shaking a bit, but he felt exhilarated, alive and ready for more. "What's the play, Sergeant. Think we got time to scavenge or we just gonna book it?"
The jungle would be crawling with VC. That much was certain, but he also knew if they just picked a direction and ran for it, they wouldn't get very far. If they stayed at the crash site playing with their dicks for too long, the VC would swarm them like ants, and then it wouldn't matter how many grenades and ammo they had. Right now they had a fair bit of gear strapped to them, but it wouldn't last. The dead, of course, had more. That was why he'd taken a couple mags from the pilots for his pistol. Already he was thinking about putting a grenade in his pocket... just in case it looked like he might wind up in Charlie's hands. One last present from Uncle Sam, right? Not right now though. Thing's weren't nearly that bad.
Pulling off his ALICE pack, he opened the top flap and pulled out his boonie hat and put it on. With his pack ratcheted back down he squinted a little. For the moment, he wasn't giving much thought to the situation. It was just another day in Charlie's outhouse. The whole thing was a shit sandwich as far as he was concerned. His hands were shaking a bit, but he felt exhilarated, alive and ready for more. "What's the play, Sergeant. Think we got time to scavenge or we just gonna book it?"
The jungle would be crawling with VC. That much was certain, but he also knew if they just picked a direction and ran for it, they wouldn't get very far. If they stayed at the crash site playing with their dicks for too long, the VC would swarm them like ants, and then it wouldn't matter how many grenades and ammo they had. Right now they had a fair bit of gear strapped to them, but it wouldn't last. The dead, of course, had more. That was why he'd taken a couple mags from the pilots for his pistol. Already he was thinking about putting a grenade in his pocket... just in case it looked like he might wind up in Charlie's hands. One last present from Uncle Sam, right? Not right now though. Thing's weren't nearly that bad.
Great information on the weapons. It explains a lot as to why I always heard the AK series had trouble with feeding/jamming. The sad thing is, I've also heard and seen that the AK series were meant to be tougher and more rugged than the soldiers that used them, to the point that Russian soldiers used to do pushups ON the AK's, with pressure being put on the grip and mag well (with mag inserted) and all. I've heard stories of guys putting 10,000 rounds through the AK, pulling it apart, dipping a shoe lace in used 10w-30 motor oil and running it through the barrel and slapping it back together and putting another 10k rounds through it. If you upgrade the internals a bit, put match grade barrel on one, with match ammo, I hear you can get quite a bit of accuracy out of them.
As for the M-16's feeding and ammo problems, yeah... that I definitely knew about. That's why I went with the newer M16A1 for Eli. Chrome internals, forward assist, and the newest of the A1's also had the brass deflector. That's a little thing, but I don't feel like having 5.56 hickeys all the time.
Great info all around, HeySeuss and RoadRash.
I want to get both platforms when I get enough disposable income. I've been really really poor the last few years but that should be changing soon, which means I can start picking up some needs/wants that have a bigger pricetag.
Edit: Posting now...
As for the M-16's feeding and ammo problems, yeah... that I definitely knew about. That's why I went with the newer M16A1 for Eli. Chrome internals, forward assist, and the newest of the A1's also had the brass deflector. That's a little thing, but I don't feel like having 5.56 hickeys all the time.
Great info all around, HeySeuss and RoadRash.
I want to get both platforms when I get enough disposable income. I've been really really poor the last few years but that should be changing soon, which means I can start picking up some needs/wants that have a bigger pricetag.
Edit: Posting now...
Eli groaned, as he came to, swimming out of a dark black pool of silence and numbness. His heart hammered in his head like sledgehammers and his ears were ringing. He felt dazed, disoriented, confused as he rolled over. The pain in his head married with the dizziness he felt and suddenly his stomach rebelled hard. The smell of burning flesh did not help as his other senses began to catch up even as he quietly wretched, his body wringing itself out like a dishrag.
Finally empty, he heaved again, but it was dry and nothing came up. Collapsing back to the ground from his knees, he sighed, only to slowly sit up, reaching around for his canteen. As he pulled it off his belt a dribble of water ran out of it. Shrapnel or a bullet had punctured it, making it pretty much useless. "Great," he muttered as he flopped the canteen down, then pulled another free from his belt. It was solid, and full. He took a swig and washed his mouth out, then spat it out on the ground. Taking another pull, he took in some water, which his guts didn't rebel against.
Weapons check, he decided. His newer M16A1 (Named Rebecca, or Becca for short) seemed to be okay. His pistol was strapped to him, and he still had several mags. By then he was aware that half the unit were up and moving. Like hte rest, his joints felt as though they were made from crushed glass and every movement hurt. Last time he'd felt like this was either falling down Beverly Cliffs back home, or a bar fight the day after. Machete, knife, and all his gear was there. his helmet he found which had a piece of metal sticking into it. Tossing the pot, he shook his head. He'd been sitting on it for a seat on the way in. Apparently it had saved his balls from getting blown off but he'd gotten a concussion for it, he guessed.
As the Sergeant outlined the situation he said nothing, and instead moved toward the interior of the chopper, after picking up Thumper from the ground. He loaded a 40 mikemike but didn't snap it shut. The noise would give them away. Instead he flipped his selector to semi-auto and belly crawled to the nose of the huey, bracing his rifle there, while making sure his grenade launcher was ready to rock and roll. As soon as Sar'nt's grenade went off he snapped his launcher closed then looked for muzzle flashes for return fire.
A moment after he had them he plotted for the drop and fired, sending a 40mm grenade sailing with it's characteristic BlOOp! With the shell whizzing on it's way he jerked back down behind the wreckage. He didn't feel like being a target while his hands reloaded. They shook a bit as he pulled a grenade out from the bandolier and put it in place. Snapping it shut, he paused for a moment to see how conditions were shaping up.
Finally empty, he heaved again, but it was dry and nothing came up. Collapsing back to the ground from his knees, he sighed, only to slowly sit up, reaching around for his canteen. As he pulled it off his belt a dribble of water ran out of it. Shrapnel or a bullet had punctured it, making it pretty much useless. "Great," he muttered as he flopped the canteen down, then pulled another free from his belt. It was solid, and full. He took a swig and washed his mouth out, then spat it out on the ground. Taking another pull, he took in some water, which his guts didn't rebel against.
Weapons check, he decided. His newer M16A1 (Named Rebecca, or Becca for short) seemed to be okay. His pistol was strapped to him, and he still had several mags. By then he was aware that half the unit were up and moving. Like hte rest, his joints felt as though they were made from crushed glass and every movement hurt. Last time he'd felt like this was either falling down Beverly Cliffs back home, or a bar fight the day after. Machete, knife, and all his gear was there. his helmet he found which had a piece of metal sticking into it. Tossing the pot, he shook his head. He'd been sitting on it for a seat on the way in. Apparently it had saved his balls from getting blown off but he'd gotten a concussion for it, he guessed.
As the Sergeant outlined the situation he said nothing, and instead moved toward the interior of the chopper, after picking up Thumper from the ground. He loaded a 40 mikemike but didn't snap it shut. The noise would give them away. Instead he flipped his selector to semi-auto and belly crawled to the nose of the huey, bracing his rifle there, while making sure his grenade launcher was ready to rock and roll. As soon as Sar'nt's grenade went off he snapped his launcher closed then looked for muzzle flashes for return fire.
A moment after he had them he plotted for the drop and fired, sending a 40mm grenade sailing with it's characteristic BlOOp! With the shell whizzing on it's way he jerked back down behind the wreckage. He didn't feel like being a target while his hands reloaded. They shook a bit as he pulled a grenade out from the bandolier and put it in place. Snapping it shut, he paused for a moment to see how conditions were shaping up.
Posting...
Edit: Posted. Bloop!
Edit: Posted. Bloop!
Go for it, Sar'nt.
Oops, I meant M79.
I guess I got them mixed up or a typo or something.
I guess I got them mixed up or a typo or something.
I'll take a M72. Having 2 in the unit wouldn't hurt.
@TomeBinder
I thought about making an ARVN translator. I dunno if you're cool with doubling... Not sure I wanna try to pick up an extra character for this. It usually doubles my workload. So... I'm not going to claim 'dibs' on it or anything.
I thought about making an ARVN translator. I dunno if you're cool with doubling... Not sure I wanna try to pick up an extra character for this. It usually doubles my workload. So... I'm not going to claim 'dibs' on it or anything.
Okay, I think Eli is ready for a review
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