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Thread: Operation: End Game (Sorayah&Garinovitch)

  1. #1
    Green Bean Pirate Queen Sorayah's Avatar
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    Operation: End Game (Sorayah&Garinovitch)

    A 1x1 Spec-Ops RP.

    Player Characters:




    Sub-Characters:


    Mission notes:
    Last edited by Sorayah; 04-01-2013 at 07:18 PM.
    You cannot spell SLAUGHTER without LAUGHTER.

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  2. #2
    Touch Fluffy Tail~ Garinovitch's Avatar
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    Last edited by Garinovitch; 03-28-2013 at 05:21 PM.
    Lie down baby
    Arch your back now
    Maybe you can help me get what I want
    Curve your little spine and tell me that you're mine
    It's all about the game and what you flaunt



  3. #3
    Touch Fluffy Tail~ Garinovitch's Avatar
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    15:00, April 22nd, 2017

    The dynamic entry was perfect. A well-placed breaching charge on the steel-padded door and the followed up flashbang grenade prepared the team for an organized, aggressive entry. David "Ronin" Fraiman, the highest ranking operator, shouldered his custom AK-74M assault rifle as he stepped into the building first. Two armed hostiles stood at the doorway, their still eyes poised and ready to strike. The former British Special Forces Operative was prepared for the worst, raising his rifle, he fired two shots center mass and one towards the skull on each target. His shots connected perfectly, knocking the armed hostiles down to the floor immediately. "Targets neutralized!" Ronin beckoned as he swept around the center of the room, his squad mates pulling up into the room behind him. The soldier spent no time dawdling on the dead targets, immediately he began proceeding up the stairs of the house. "Keep it tight team!" The soldier reminded as he advanced up the staircase.

    "Target on your three!" Ronin heard as he crossed a nearby hallway, immediately the soldier turned, putting three more rounds down range, "Tango killed!" Ronin cooed as he watched the man's body roll onto the floor like a ragdoll. "Reloading!" Ronin called as he replaced the magazine in his rifle. The team pushed down the center of the narrow hallway until they finally came to a steel door at the edge of the room. "This is Centurion. We've reached the holding room. Preparing for entry." Henry flicked on his helmet camera. It was important during hostage rescue missions to have a camera on sight to assess whether or not the hostage is safe enough to evacuate. "This is Command, feed is coming through clear, you're free to make dynamic entry." Ronin nodded as he motioned for one of his squad to set a demolition charge on the door, "Clear!" The soldier shouted as he covered his ears, the ominous sound of the door, exploding open and knocking it off of its hinges. Ronin walked into the room, rifle at the ready.

    "Hostage secured! Room is clear, I repeat, room is clear!" Ronin shouted, "Alright gentlemen, let's get ready for extraction!" The soldier commanded. Ronin picked up the hostage by the arm, when he suddenly heard a creeping beeping sound. Ronin threw the hostage onto the floor, removing the man's shirt, only to find a bomb strapped to his chest. "Bomb... BOMB!!!" Ronin shouted, "GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE ROOM." Ronin pushed his soldiers out, each of them running down the hallway until they heard the loud buzz of a blow horn above them. "That was fucking sloppy, soldiers." A man called from above. Ronin looked around the room at the room filled with dead mannequins, then back towards the "hostage" that had a bomb strapped to it. "If that had been real life, you all would have been royally fucked. Why didn't you check the hostage completely before attempting extraction?" Ronin shrugged. "Never had any training in hostage rescue back at SRR. They sent us in to kill, not rescue." The former British Soldier remarked.

    "Alright, sloppy end there, but everything else was good. You guys need to get to briefing, we have a mission profile prepared for you guys." The man above grunted. "Understood, my team will be there in a few." Ronin nodded to the rest of the team as he removed his helmet off of his head.

    Lie down baby
    Arch your back now
    Maybe you can help me get what I want
    Curve your little spine and tell me that you're mine
    It's all about the game and what you flaunt



  4. #4
    Green Bean Pirate Queen Sorayah's Avatar
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    Adriana Daniels made her way briskly down the hall, tailing the well-groomed aid ahead of her. She grimaced slightly. It had been overcast this morning, and from the feel of her hip, it was probably going to rain. The injury flared up occasionally, and she fought the urge to favor her leg and show a limp. Not today.

    After a few weeks of initial refresher training and the requisite paperwork, she had finally been thrown a the bone she had been so furiously seeking since leaving the corps. A mission. Combat, no less. At least, she assumed so. These Legion people had promised as much, and if they didn't deliver, heads were going to roll. In Adriana's mind at least. She was fed up with the bureaucratic, boy's club nonsense, especially where it concerned her being constantly passed up for promotions due to minimal field experience when compared to her male counterparts. She'd seen what was expected of soldiers, and she had matched it, and then some. She wasn't about to let anyone ignore her again. Not now. Not after she had lost so much.

    She thought back to her last conversation with her father, Pastor Peter Daniels last month. He had been leery of her moving on to the paramilitary organization, encouraging her to stick it out at the CIA.

    “You've only been there a year, Adriana. Things are going to get better.”

    “No, Dad, they're not. Face it. America's a great country, but we're backward when it comes to gender roles. We ignore rape culture and demonize feminism, but then we turn around and baby women in the military and prevent them from giving as much toward their country as men do. It doesn't matter whether its the CIA or the NBA or the fucking military! The system is broken!”

    “Watch your mouth, young lady.”

    “Sorry... it's just... Dad, I love you, and I love my country, but I'm tired of always fighting against the people I'm supposed to be working alongside. I want a chance to prove myself, and I'm not going to get it here, or anywhere else run by U.S. bureaucracy. I need to try a different approach. And I'm hoping that's what this'll be.”

    “But sweetheart, what do you really know about this company? Are they even legal?”

    “Yes, Dad! They're perfectly legit, sanctioned by the UN. I'm not a criminal!”

    “I know you're not. But that doesn't mean you might not be making a decision without all the facts. I just want you to be safe.”

    “Dad, I've been to Iraq and back twice, gotten blown up by a IED, and been shot at more times than I can even remember. Safe is a relative term for me as it is...”

    “But those were all under the supervision of an organization you knew you could trust, Adriana. Just... just promise me you'll pray about it. It never hurts to seek the Lord's will, sweetheart."

    "Right... I-- I'll do that," she lied.

    "You want me to put your mother on?"

    Adriana had sighed, frustrated. “Actually, Dad, I gotta go. I have loads of paperwork to fill out, and then I have my PT appointment.”

    Her father had said a hesitant goodbye, clearly unconvinced. If she was honest, she had to admit she was avoiding him now. She had only written him emails since, telling him she had gotten the job, that she was moving out of her tiny apartment in Arlington, that she would be in touch as soon as things settled somewhat. She knew her mom was worried about her too, but Moriah Peters trusted her daughter's judgment... perhaps more than her husband did.

    And so far, it seemed she had made the right choice. Legion had all the resources and contacts to complete any operation. She was impressed by the weaponry and toys that had been paraded before her during orientation. And as an operation based in the UK, they didn't seem to have the same hangups about gender that she'd experienced in American military outfits. So far... so good...

    She sped up her pace, gritting her teeth against the increasingly sharp protests in her hip. The aid stopped at a door labeled Conference Room #013, and stood, smiling politely. She nodded at Adriana. “Your briefing, Captain Daniels.”

    Adriana nodded back politely, took a deep breath, put on her business face, and stepped through the door.
    You cannot spell SLAUGHTER without LAUGHTER.

    Got some free time?
    Bone Throwers Theater: A horror/sci-fi RPG actual-play podcast available on iTunes, Stitcher, or online.

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