BigPapaBelial

The Hunt, A Modern Fantasy Smorgasbord RP

@AWACS@13org

Mikey's Got it Going on

Micheal turns as he hears another person coming to join them. And with a playful grin on his face he waits until she's joined them before giving Scarlet a wolf whistle, "Saying I'm looking good? Look who cleaned up great. Looking good yourself." He nods, "Sounds like we're trying to decide where to go out on the town. Little downtime after the warehouse and the Abomination. Yeah that sounds good. Got any input here Red?" He grins still using that nickname he first used back at the Gang houses. He thought it sounded cute, and informal. A way to be friendly. He grins brightly, "I'm hoping for steak. A big thick end to a steer or heifer. No muss no fuss just alot of meat." He shrugs a little.

He too turned to Faye and smiled to her, "I'm sorry you know I should have said something too. Facing the Abomination, it's not fun. I was in a Lodge the first time. I hadn't been a Shaman for more then a few years I think back then. Even from the protection of a Lodge with fifty Oska-peyos and near one hundred of us inside the Lodge I watched people burst into bright evil flame from one side of the Lodge to the other. Men cry out about seeing nothing but eyes in their mind before dropping. I think I understand the horror, and other worldness of it. Need to talk about it you got a set of ears here." He gestures over his shoulder at the Gods who are casually using their magicks to randomly change eachothers outfits into different colors, "And believe it or not, they were there too. If you want to hear some fun stories." He grins, "You aren't alone is what I'm trying to say yeah?" He chuckles, "Sorry we First Nations tend to claim people we make friends with. They become our extended family. And so far I like the lot of you. So I'm going to be actting like a big brother sort here in short order." He grabs Scarlet in one arm and Faye in the other and gives them both one armed squeezing hugs. And booms out a laugh while doing so.

The Conflict

It took abit, it's like some clouds parted for Hayden and he came back to himself.

He stood there then tossed the AKM aside, looking confused. He looked at Katerina and swallowed thickly, "What...what was that?" he looked back at the bodies, and he knew the wounds from a AK, and he had been the only one holding one. He swallows again, his eyes finally unclouding, "Crap...crap..." He turns and grabs up the KAR98 that the other fellow he had axed earlier had dropped, it's not a modern weapon true, doesn't have the modern bells and whistles, but until he can get his hands on something heavier, say a LMG of some kind he wants something that's pin point accurate. He loots the stripper clips of rounds off the dead man. And makes for the truck. As he goes he looks back again.

Blurry images run through his head. The fight starting, popping one fellow, a dead double tap. Popping off some cover rounds to help Sean. And him yelling? What was he yelling...and was is his memory foggy after that up until him chucking the AK? He sighs and makes for the truck again, getting to the back and looking up at Bethan.

his eyes go wide at her words. He stops himself from fully climbing up. His eyes narrowing, "I wanna say something about battle and alls fair and shit like that..." He looks at the truck and the dozen or so long crates in the back, "But I don't think that would make much sense after that." He hops into the back of the truck sitting on the edge, "Get me to the Caddy Kat! I'll drive it back."

He takes a moment or two checking one of the crates and then bashing the lock off with the butt of his scavenged rifle. Looking inside to find smaller containers of grenades. The paperwork on the top containers reading something like six M67 fragmentation grenades in each small container. He sniffs, "Explosives." He looks over at another, finding signaling for mortar rounds on another one, looking to be 30mm mortar rounds. He sniffs as they roll a little forward, "Some one is getting serious...and preparing for a fight." As they pull up to the Caddy he looks at Bethan.

He hops down, "I can't explain what happened...atleast not in a way you'd like. Just take at value I have demons. Left over from stuff that I don't like remembering. I'll try and contain it. Do I feel bad? Fuck yes I do...do I think I'll do it again...again fuck yes I probably will...I doesn't get any easier. Oi! Toss me the keys to the Caddy...I'll follow you guys out." He brought out his phone and placed it in the front pocket of his jacket, "Call me in abit..."

The Hunt, A Modern Fantasy Smorgasbord RP

@13org@King Cosmos@Kumbaris@AWACS

Micheal Crane, Smooth Criminal

After some time and returning to base, Micheal and his deific friends had gone to find their rooms. the gods getting a really nice three bunk room right across the hall from Micheal's room. Stripping out of his work gear Micheal had then put on a very nice black suit ensemble, black vest over a dark grey pin stripped dress shirt, with feather embroirdery on the lapel, black slacks and black boots. And to top it off a wide brimmed felt hat, sometimes called a Navajo hat on the top of his head, a beautiful blue, yellow and white beaded band finishes everything up.

Honestly makes the young shaman look pretty fly.

He trots down to join the group in the front of the building, "Hello everyone. Sorry if I took too long. So what's the plan." He unconsciously slides his fingers along the brim of the hat. And if anyone had it in them the general idea might be, "Kung Lao Wins!". He smiles brightly, "I heard something about a dessert menu? I could go for a steak personally. Some big piece of a steer or hiefer. Slathered in HP sauce with a side of onion rings and sauteed mushrooms. Anyone with me?" He nods, and then looks up as the gods come piling down the stairs somehow both skipping down and falling over each other, all of them in technicolor versions of what Micheal is wearing.

Micheal chuckles and shrugs, "How about we get a car, or limo even get the drive to take us to the night life portion of the town and go from there?" He nods to the others. Not sure what else to offer.

The Prophecy of Ash (A Dark Souls RP) ~Re-Boot?~

Loony Bin?

Name: Lorkan Du'Pree

Monikers: The Erstwhile Scholar, The Shunned Student

Place of Birth: Vinheim

Gender: Male

Appearance: Standing some 6 feet tall even, thin and severe, with long lanky black hair that reaches under his shoulders. His skin is pale and waxy textured. His fingertips have been nearly permanently stained an inky black because of years spent writing papers, and then after a fateful event long hours spent writing out personal notes and spell formulas. He will often be found wearing Vinheim student attire but since he is no longer with the school he has had it customized to be made of black soft leather. The cap changed into a broad brimmed hat, similar but not to the degree of another famous scholar.

Status: Unhollowed

Biography: Growing up in Vinheim, pretty much from day one Lorkan had been fascinated with Sorcery. He'd watch from the sides of the street while helping to sell his families shoes at their cobbler's workhouse. As he would help to nail the leather soles to the base of the shoe he'd look over towards the school and watch the sorcerers and scholars come and go. A time or two in his youth he saw none other then Big Hat Logan come and go. He'd watch in awe as Sorcerer's would come out sometimes to show their spells to people and advertise the merits of entering the Dragon School.

He aged as all humans do, and when he was old enough he managed to procure a scholarship, and entered the school as a student. And though he wasn't as high on the social totem pole as some within the walls he was studious and intelligent. He worked hard. And gained the right to learn the secrets of sorcery. Some of so called greater standing would try to bring him down, but he'd soldier on. Using everything his scholarship would be able to give him. Soon outstripping those naysayers.

But then that's the main reason he fell. Him doing so well not only gained him enemies among the young lords and ladies who studied at the School, but it also left him often without anything to study and learn. So he began to branch out. Always with the promise never to touch the darker of the soul arts of course. When once in the library he found himself in a dark quiet corner, and there on a pedestal left out perhaps by someone by accident was a journal of a place long lost. Words like the Abyss, and Dusk, and Oolacile. He didn't know what it was, but in it he found the blueprint to a spell.

Weeks later he thought himself alone late at night at a practice ground. His Soul Spears and Soul Arrows and Soulmass came easily as he practiced. Until he couldn't resist. Taking his catalyst in hand...and the burst of magic was heady. A black blast of sorcery raced across and obliterated the target. He panted grinning from ear to ear. There had to be more to learn. And there was, but he never learned a new spell. He practically lived in the Library gaining a pale complexion and waxy skin. He studied every book he could find about the Abyss. Until one day he was found by three students and four teachers. Hunched over a lectern amongst piles of old tomes.

A tribunal called, and he was accused of studying magic that is forbidden. He would argue that as Dragon School students was it not their right to study all types of sorcery? The tribunal of the headmaster and other teachers would find him guilty. Banned form the school, exiled from Vinheim. But the addiction still held strong. A need to find more of those dark magics. Learn them all. And Prove the Vinheim School wrong. He journeyed to Anor Londo, and the areas around it, in hopes of finding more. For the books spoke of there being an Abyss there. And the Abyss had yet to steer him wrong.

Personality: A determined, and driven Sorcerer. Quiet and direct as he knows what he wants to do and there is little else he wants to do. He will care for himself, eat, sleep what have you, but he has a personal quest and he is dead set on doing that. He at this point may not be completely sane, his quest to learn more dark sorceries is all that is on his mind, that and the heady burst of pleasure from casting them.

Skills:

Dragon School Sorcery(Positive Skill) - Knowing almost all of the base Soul Spells. The Arrows and the Spear and the Soulmass, as well as a single Dark Orb sorcery.

Bookish Intelligence(Neutral Skill) - A student and researcher at heart. He's gained a great deal of book knowledge. But is somewhat inexperienced in real life knowledge.

Addicted to Forbidden Knowledge (Negative Skill) - Having had a taste of dark soul magic, he now has the addiction that brought places like New Londo and Oolacile low, an addiction to dark things.

Equipment: Sorcerer's Catalyst, with a clear caduceus pattern to it. Dark dyed leather Vinheim scholars outfit. Unadorned short sword for personal defense. A backpack full of supplies, food, water and magical scrolls and parchment and writing tools.

Other: Calling dibs on the first to go right mad as a hatter before the end of the RP.

The Conflict

Hehe

Everyone roll initiative

Hayden took a deep breath and nods, "You all got a point." He grumbled. And he drew that mean looking tomahawk first. Screw trying to be too covert about it. He made purposeful strides forward, splitting from Sean's side as they went, his eyes on a pair of the mercs. One of them with a dirty looking AKM and the other with the lone KAR rifle.

As the girls started their interactions things started to kick off. None of the Dry Trail folks had noticed that the women had come together in the same car. So the one Yekaterina approached turned and he took a second or two to try and figure out what she meant or was asking about. He had to call over another Dry Trail merc to even attempt to understand her. Seems that rough anglo-german dialect that Gunther spoke is some back woods red-neck bumpkin dialect that very few people spoke. And it took a german speaking person to try and get some idea of it. As they babbled, more men started to inch closer. Guard duty can be boring and witnessing this interchange relieved some of the boredom. And kept about four of them busy.

Hayden signaled, not overtly but to those who could see him he made his targets clear. It was swift, he took the two out quick, crack crack crack, three hits, the first punching a hole in the AKM fellows temple. The guy with the KAR turning slowly the pair of strikes to his jaw then to the side of his throat laying him out. Oh it wasn't pretty, but they were kills. His Hi-Power then snaked out of his other sleeve. And then shit hit the fan. He popped one man, bang bang a double tap. His special forces training clear as day with a bright sun. One to the chest, then another to the head. Perfect, quick shots. Laying the man out. He docked behind some half cover, as the guards started to yell and bark. And it started.

Hayden leaned out and rattled off a few rounds covering Sean's run across the ground. Hayden saw movement out of the corner of his eyes, he growled, "Fuck the driver...what...right Bethan, make sure he's in one piece. Sean one's coming around the other side of the truck. He's yours. Kat, find your gun and get some rounds out." He stopped to grab up the AKM from the guy he hacked down. Oh this thing has seen better days. He checks the mag, then the chamber, full loads the damn thing in a few short professional movements. And suddenly the roar of the gun joins the pops of the pistols. He slots another Dry Trail guard quickly. He looks over covering Sean, but knows full well these people he's managed to team up with are very good at what they do.

The shock and surprise and quick lethality of the attack has already driven several of the Dry Trail troupe to throw their weapons and run. They may look tough but they aren't actual fighters by the look of it. Just a seven more die hard guards left over. Hayden levering up and leveling the stolen AKM on the seven standing in the open. He barks in English, "Drop the guns or join your friends here in the afterlife. I don't care either way. Do it now!" Hoping Katrina or Sean join him in yelling them down. He flicks the barrel of the AKM from body to body, "Do it! Drop'em now! Drop'em!"

Somewhere in Hayden's mind he's quietly thinking, "Just end them...just like those wet jobs. It's so easy...so easy...Just do it..." And it's like a cloud passes over Hayden's face and eyes. And before god and all, He seems to forget that he was going to give them an easy out. He empties the AKM's remaining rounds into the seven. Mowing them down. This could almost constitute a war-crime, but Hayden does it with the look of someone who isn't quite all there. When the click of an empty magazine fills the air once...twice...thrice...then a fourth and fifth time it seems he's still not quite there.

As Bethan returns to the gas station he's only then coming back to himself, "The fuck..." He looks around in a little bit of disconnected confusion. Just the shaking guards near Katrina and two bleeding but still barely clinging to life in that group of seven remaining. Hayden blinks, "Fuck...Sean...when you're good...see if you can get the truck started." With a shakey movement he tosses the AKM aside.

The Prophecy of Ash (A Dark Souls RP) ~Re-Boot?~

@Dark Cloud

Ah well I had honestly written this off...but I am more then willing to take part if it does pick up.

The Conflict

Ahhah okay I see what you mean. Good to make sure either way.

The Conflict

That's pretty small for a machete. Most Machetes are atleast 20 if I understand correctly. You're talking like a long knife if it's just 12 inches. Or maybe a Russian Style axe machete like the evil thing Reznov had back in CoD WaW.

The Conflict

Hayden turns from looking down a side street and...no fucking way. Hayden hums and motions to Sean, "Let's get closer."

The pair moved a little closer, and Hayden stopped them at the line of a small community cafe, they looked like they just lined up for service so it's not too conspicious. Hayden sniffs the pair about 300 to 350 yards away now. Hayden hums, "Well it looks like the one we're looking for." He hums looking at the guards. Run of the mill Matanbain militia. AKs, SKS rifles, one of them sporting a bolt action Nagant style rifle there's even a KAR style rifle in there. Hell as they watch one man steps out and he's got a WW2 German MP40 SMG in hand, "That is quite a spread of weapons they got there." He sniffs, "Okay...this is going to be an interesting lay then. We're going to have to be very careful. Girls, park up ahead of the truck, say in that spot about fifty of so feet ahead of them, get out, make your way to the fuel station they are at. Get the guards attention, get the drivers attention. Sean and I will start moving when they are distracted, try and make our way to the truck."

There is a affirmative response from the car as it rolls by and Hayden loosens the tomahawk up his sleeve, "Best to do this quiet like."

As the car parks up and the girls begin to get out Hayden gasps, "Fuck me..." As a second truck with Dry Trail markings rumbles by and past the first truck and right past the girls and the car. Hayden watches it make towards the intersection at the far end of the block. And as they are watching a third truck rolls north on that intersection. Hayden's eyes widen, "No...that's three." And as if to cock up the situation further Hayden turns to look over his shoulder to see two more trucks driving away from them from the intersection behind them, one of those trucks driving south deeper into the slum, "Five." Said just loud enough for Sean's phone to pick up, "Are we looking at bait? Or am I right in thinking that the Dry Trail has way more business here then we may have been lead to believe? The suit said one truck and it's driver. but are sure this is the truck. Someone still has that dossier right? Look in it. Look for a target type. Weapons, supplies, armor or ammo. We may need to search, and if there is no specification we take any of these trucks and it's driver and ditch."

He looks at Sean, "Remember shit creek? I think we just hit the rapids. And all we have right now are our hands." He looks back at the truck in front of them, "Maybe one of the others isn't as heavily guarded as this one. Maybe we can find a steal over a fight."

The Conflict

@FourtyTwo@Starlance

As the meeting broke up the four made their way out and finding the Caddilac. Hayden standing there for a moment to look at it, "I just wanna go on record I have never seen a Cimarron in my life and I'm not sure how to feel that this is the first one I've ever seen." He hopped into the back seat and winced, "Fuck...something's sticky..." He sighs and starts to check the back of the seat in front of him and the door pockets, coming up with some old gum, and a pamphlet. He doesn't quite look at it immediately, as his attention is taken up front as maps and dossiers and phones are found. He reaches up to grab one of the burners. Looking at the venerable thing, "Huh, haven't seen once of these since high school." He pops his open, powering it on and checking the setting, noting down that all the phones have only their contact numbers on it. He nods, "Alright kids then this is what we can do with it. We can find ourselves something better later." He looks out the window as they go.

After abit he nods, "Okay, yeah I like this idea. Once we get to the slums dump Sean and I off somewhere, we'll tail the car. We sketch the truck first, and any security it has. If we can, we want to take out outliers first, maybe jack their weapons too, just to have something that we can use in the long run." He hums as they come around a slight bend in the road to see a fire fight on the side of the highway, between what looks like some SAMC mercs and COGS mercs. It's nothing big maybe five people a piece hiding behind their vehicles. And looks more like a gang situation then two potential army units. He shakes his head, "Course. Not an actual conflict. More like two fucking gangs picking at each other." They drive on and he shakes his head, "Fucking hell reminds me of insurgencies." He sniffs and looks ahead road signs alerting them to coming turn off. He nods, "The way I understand it, these slums out here are almost like the drug favelas of South America, or places like Jaurez in the states. High crime rates, run maybe by gang lords, or community militas. No real police presense unless it's something like a triple murder. So all we're going to have to worry about are the Dry Trail Mercs, the driver himself and maybe some nosy community reps with a pistol or shot gun, maybe a surplus WW2 rifle even. So unless we stay too long and make alot of noise, maybe, maybe," He emphazies the second maybe, "We'll come out of it without too much trouble. And our first payday."

After some driving and some planning the turn off for the slum appears. Hayden finally reaches into the inside of his coat and brings out his Hi Power going through a check on it carefully, popping the mag, checking the chamber, ejecting the round in the chamber, and adding it back to the magazine. He then slots everything back into place with a practiced click pop. and out of his duffel that be brought with him, an evil looking tomahawk axe with a spear point head, that he hides inside his right sleeve. He grins at Sean as he catches the other man looking, "Just in case." He winks.

And then it's like they just entered the wild west. The slum is super different from the well to do area they came from earlier. But it's still got it's flavor. Hayden nods, "Alright pull over. Sean, let's go. Beth, Yek, roll forward, we'll do this grid like until we find the truck. Don't get more then a block away from us. We'll scout on foot, and once we find the truck we wait until everyone is one is in sight before we move." He waited until the car stopped them popped the door, getting out and looking up and down the street, waiting for Sean to get out. He then reached for the phone, trying one number getting Sean's to ring, he then tried again getting Yekaterina's. He nods and motions, "Let's get moving folks. Let's get a pay day." He chuckles and playfully flicks the car's occupants off as he started up the street motioning for Sean to follow him. "Fuck is it ever easy to just fall into old habits..." He's already got a hand around the grip of the pistol inside his jacket, and he's scanning about already. Giving the car another bird as they roll by.