BigPapaBelial

The Hunt, A Modern Fantasy Smorgasbord RP

Mikey Crane, Shaman at Large

Micheal sat there tapping the top of his near empty thermos. Taking another sip of the still lukewarm tea within. He hums, looking at the still slowly playing footage on the screen and the lists of people who were around that night. It is a heady thing, a scary thing to know that you might be on the watchlist of someone that has it in for you. That's the only reason someone would place a mole into their group. Or so he thought right up until the moment Boss Bot says Mr. X might be a Diety. Not all Dieties are gods, some dieties are just really powerful spirits. The Voodoo Loa come to mind. Mike hums, "A diety." Raven sighs, "There are some bad eggs out there. We ought to know we sometimes get labeled those bad eggs." He looks at Whiskeyjack and Manabozho. Getting a tired pair of nods in response. Mikey smiles, "Still you have your good moments boys."

Mikey gets up and winces then stares at his still bound up arm, the magic burn from the night before still not completely healed. He takes a deep breath, "Alright Boss Bot we'll do what we can over here, my three diefic friends and I. But from experience I really don't want to be doing too much magic weaving when this burn is still relatively fresh. Doing too much magic weaving would likely turn this from a magic burn into a magic scar and I don't like the idea of losing access to a portion of my magic until I can get that scar removed." He sniffs then shrugs, "Still try and help anyway I can." He nods. And winces as Whiskeyjack grabs his bad arm and shakes it, "We have faith in you buddy." Micheal withstands it for about 5 shakes before he grabs Whiskeyjack in a headlock, "Cut it out you chucklefuck!" Whiskeyjack letting out a squawk and flailing as the muscle shaman holds him tight, "If I could only pop your little head off for that you piece o'..."

Mike lets him go though with a growl and then rubs the bandages, "We'll be good..." He looks around, "Yeah we'll be good. Faith in the team right?" He nods, "Lemee go pick up my kit and I'll be ready to go." He makes for the door, "And maybe apply a new bandage and poultice. This damn burn...really burns now." He chuckles softly. Heading out for now, plate and thermos in hand to return to the cafeteria.

Back in the room he was allowed to use he gathers his gear, making sure he has everything, his diefic friends joining him a few moments later to pack it all up properly. At that moment Micheal takes a second to peel off the bandages, and look around to make sure that creepy elf medic isn't anywhere to be seen, before reapplying the poultice, some padding against the skin and new bandage layers for protection. He doesn't want to risk it getting more irritated during the rest of the mission.

After that, he and the three dieties are marching down the hall. Mike has to stop and dope slap Raven for playing some kind of poppy-rap beat. The explanation having been the situation is like some movie hype scene when the heroes walk out. Mike had just groaned at the reference.

Rise of Rasalhague

You know what...never mind thank you for your time.

Rise of Rasalhague - A "mostly" canon BattleTech mercenary roleplay for mech enjoyers

Sorry for the double post. Thought what the heck right? So here's my attempt at a character.

...sorry.

Yujiro Tachibana

Name: Yujiro Tachibana

Nickname:

Appearance:

Yujiro

Yujiro Tachibana is not exactly striking. Well if it weren't for his arm being gone anyway. And the tattoos. And he's yet to really give a good reason why he's missing that arm or is tattooed. Otherwise he's dark haired, light skin tone, looks like your everyday Merc...from what has to be Combine Space...HAS to be! He showed up in a jump suit with a small Cherry red and Light Green square hidden under the collar. And even carries himself with a military style, but otherwise he's incredibly not striking in anyway shape or form. Just your average merc. With Yakuza Tattoos...that if someone looked into it, is clearly the colors of the Amagi Group Yakuza.

Age: 36, though he says he's 26

Origin: Draconis Combine, Born on Rockland

Personality: For someone who might be a Ronin, or maybe even someone who's been detached from a Combine battalion, Yujiro is incredibly approachable. He's always smiling, forever playing with his belt knife. Seems to know the Knife Game Song by heart too. And be one of the first to pitch in on a Mech and/or Technical related conversation. He has yet to show that he's all about swift tactics and less then honorable attack measures when in a Mech.

History:

Born on Rockland, the son of a Mechwarrior who affected the ideals of a Samurai and a fairly well known Tactical Officer for the DCMS. Not too surprising the young Tachibana went on to have a very clear path in life. He was enrolled in two pre-academy courses, to prepare him for entering a life with the DCMS.

Now someone coming from such a prestigious background, and one who did very well in his schooling. Would be a shoe in for maybe Galedon or maybe even Sun Zhang, hells his mother even had enough pull he could have gotten into Sun Tzu Academy. But he shocked everyone when he enrolled into the DDG, the famously frowned upon Dieron District Gymnasium.

And like the famous DDG worked, Yujiro thrived! It was perfect for the young man. Perfect! The slightly lacking style of education allowed him to really expand his horizons. He gravitated towards the studies of a mechwarrior sure, but delved deep into the support and techincal side of things as well and absolutely loved tactics and subterfuge trainig. So sure he learned how to pilot, how to fire a weapon and the like, but he also learned how a Mech really works. Where the fiber bundles connect, where the power relays run. And also, how to make the most of a combat situation. Alot of his classmates hated the fact that Yujiro started to take to tactics that would normally be dishonorable. Where most Kurita mechwarriors had a very samurai, honorable combat ideal. Yujiro loved the idea of playing dirty, almost like a Ninja, staying out of sight, peeking out and nailing his opponents in the back. While at the DDG he also connected with a few underhanded types. And sometime in his third year was reported to have recieved yakuza tattoos. His parents were not pleased. His Teachers...couldn't care less.

Needless to say he graduated with a dual specialty. Mechwarrior and support crew. And recieved his Daisho for it. It took abit but he was recruited for a Mech legion. And did fairly well. No record of which legion it was, or where he was stationed. But there is record that during a combat situation, an enemy heavy tank had nailed the cockpit of his mech, and the round blew off his arm. Medical records say he finished the combat operation, got back to the HQ then passed out and had to be operated on.

Sometime recently he was declared Ronin perhaps...or detached from his Legion. And well he showed up at Rasalhague, offering to work for the newly formed republic.

Skills:

Gunnery: 1
Piloting: 4
Guts: 3
Tactics: 4

Points Explanation

(This one works a bit differently. Every pilot has 4 basic skills: Gunnery, Piloting, Guts and Tactics. These are numerical values that normally affect the outcome of certain event. Gunnery for shooting, Piloting for manouvering and dodging, Guts resisting injury and melee, and finally Tactics for using sensors and communicating with the team. We'll use these as "soft" values, little extra stats to augment the RP side of things, and not as cold hard factors to take into account with everything we do. In the tabletop these very much define your chances, but we aren't playing tabletop, so these will be nothing more than adding flavor to the game. You start with 12 points that you can assign to the 4 categories. The max points a skill can have is 5 points for now, so spend them to give others a general idea of your character's proficiencies and shortcomings as a Mechwarrior.)

Abilities:

TBD

We'll keep track of pilot's abilities here once they earn any. These are usually beneficial modifiers for specific situations, and will be "awarded" during the RP if it feels like a pilot earned it. Same soft statistic as Skills, used mostly for flavor to give a unique flare to every pilot.

Misc: Carries with him a very fancy looking long dagger, curved blade, single edged, with a fairly ornate sheath. Roughed up, but this blade isn't something any normal Mechwarrior would have. He's also been caught a few times going through combat martial arts Kata. A fair few styles too, reminiscent of Karate, Judo and Aikido. He's somehow managed to sneak a shamisen into his gear, and if given the chance will play it like there's no tomorrow.

Rise of Rasalhague - A "mostly" canon BattleTech mercenary roleplay for mech enjoyers

Tempted so very very tempted.

BattleTech and Mechwarrior will always be a beloved mecha IP (Still think Armored Core is better).

If there is room and I can muster the energy I'll try and post a CS perhaps later after work.

Raven Squad: Second Storm (Military/Spy-Fi RP)

Post was made on a cell phone. I'll clean it up when I get home after work

Raven Squad: Second Storm (Military/Spy-Fi RP)

Dr. Freya

The giant of a red head turned at the bar the bottle of vodka still in hand. She'd barely drank half of it, half a bottle like that would put most normal people under the table and out like a light. But Freya honestly looks like she had been drinking Welch's grape juice all this time instead of a black label vodka, woman has some skills and not just in killing people it seems.

As the briefing goes she smiles then snorts, "Pavel Andros? Yes I know him, him and Vale Systems. Jotunnhiem Defense and Energy, my own research, development and contracting company has done work with Pavel and Vale a few times. We in fact got the first iteration magnetic coils from him and Vale for our current project. I just hope he's forgotten about what happened last time..." She takes a gulp from the bottle.

She let that air abit.

Then continued, "Prick tried to cop a feel on me and one of my researchers last time we met face to face. His hand was up Kellie's shirt and almost up my skirt before I grabbed him and threw him through a glass wall. He was out cold when we left. We left a note." The big woman sniffed looking at the bottle in hand, "Ahhh it was 3 years ago I'm sure he doesn't remember. I'll contact my team Skye, whatever Xan and Stafford can come up with maybe we can wing it and add something connected to Jotunnhiem? A little bit of legitimacy? Just putting that out there. I trust Staff and Xan here honestly." She took another swig, "Meanwhile I'll try and find my best power suit for the party. What do you think, guys? Hips or breasts? Which would be better for this? I can't show off both sadly."

The Hunt, A Modern Fantasy Smorgasbord RP

Muscle Shaman can be Smart too!

Michael rubbed his chin lightly. Even his diefic little brothers are looking serious. Micheal sighs and mutters, "Things are so much simpler sometimes on the Rez. The politics aren't this murky usually. People stab you in the back, but you know who they are afterward." He rubs his face and shakes his head.

So on top of someone mimicking one of their teammates, and a potentially st9len car oh and of course Faye saying there appears to be something about the disguise their potential suspect could be done with some kind of mirror or reflection magic. This just seems to pile on bit by bit. Micheal hums, looking bit a Scarlet plays the footage and that second vehicle rolls off behind the first, "Gotta be something else. Do we have a clear view of the Mercedes plates somewhere? Roll bCk abit did the doors or rear hatch of the Mercedes open at any time? If they did and no one got out then we can add someone with a Cloak or invisibility effect to to thinks to watch out for." Micheal looked over at Scarlet, "Fun times huh Red?" He gives her a playful wink, "We got an okay team here though. We can work this out."

Raven Squad: Second Storm (Military/Spy-Fi RP)

The Battle Goddess does not fail

Banged up, armor a little dented in a few places. She sighed then let out a roar. She hunkered her shoulders down. hammer held to her side. her armor picking up on her intention, and sealed and shield emitters kicked in. A dull blue glow forming over her chest, neck and waist areas, and abit on her shoulders. It's still a limited technology, her teams still working on them. She bowls past the carcass of the IFV that had caught her unaware. the bulk of the machine shoved out of the way. IFV units and their supporting soldiers treated toa glimpse of glowing, charging, howling death as it hurtled towards them. She'd have done her father proud, a man who had flipped a russian heavy troop truck once by himself. Or her mother who had held open a blast door all on her own once. The fist IFV she hits, is with her shoulder, it rocks, she stops....briefly before she leans in then up, the IFV spinning a full 180 degrees through sheer velocity and strength of the person who hit it. She charges into the midst of the rest of them. Her hammer whistling, as she slams it down on the barrels of guns, sending infantry support flying from the massive blows.

With a running cry she slides towards a poor light armored ISV support vehicle and with a shout out of her external comms unit calls, "FORE!" And swings the hammer like a 9 wood up, it almost looks like she's going to core the engine out of the poor thing, until the hammer catches on something, the engine blasting up out of the hood, catches on a support, and lifts the ISV up and off it's tires, hurling it up and onto it's roof.

It's about then that Freya thinks she's had about enough, the rest of the team working on the rest of the baddies. She turns and charges off the field with a cackling laugh.

Oh it's been a good day.

Raven HQ, Back on the Farm

Medics Office

Any surprise that quite a few people took some dings during that fight?

Maybe Freya is lucky she had all that armor on her, and the shield emitters besides. But even she isn't totally immune to damage. So here she sits in a bed purpose-built for the bigger folks on the team. She sighs and rests there, one of the nurses looking her shoulder over. In Freya's defense, with adrenaline pumping, and explosions and shooting and swinging the Starbreaker, she hadn't really felt it at the time. The Nurse shakes his head, "Honestly Big Girl, how is it you didn't feel it when that round hyper-extended and dislocated your shoulder? It's amazing you could still use it, must hurt like hell." Freya sighs and looks at the big mass of bandages and ice packs on her shoulder almost reaching up to her neck and about half way down her upper arm. The 30mm round form that IFV hadn't broken the armoring but it had shoved her shoulder out of place and way way out of it's socket. They'd managed to pop it back in on the way over, but now she's packed up and tied up like this until the muscles, and ligaments and everything can calm the fuck down. Freya shrugs her good shoulder, "Heat of the moment I guess. How long?" The nurse hums looking at the record, "2 weeks for normal use 3 and change for combat use. 4 and a half at the minimum for safety though savvy?" Freya nods, and reaches over to try and pull her shirt up over the big packet of bandages, "Thank you..."

Later

"What do you mean?"

The anger and rage in the voice can be heard even from the far corner of the rec room that Freya is sitting in.

"Well...see while you were gone...we ran a few more tests on the Rail Cannon."

Freya stares at the laptop camera, urging the physicist on the other side to continue, "Test 97-a and 97-a2, Test 97 as you know we made before you left. Ummm well 97-a went off without a hitch...but the round missed the target and buried itself in the sea floor somewhere...well somewhere near Tonga. I swear Doctor we have two teams searching for the slug!" The sound of the man on the other end of the call is placating. After abit of silent seething Freya then asks, "And the other test?" The man can be heard audibly swallowing, "Uh...Madam..Test...test 97-a2 was an unmitigated disaster..." There's a pop and the sound of softly squealing metal as Freya squeezes and crushes the metal cup she had in her hand, "Explain...carefully."

The man swallows again, "Moments before firing in Test 97-a2...there was a catastrophic failure on the magnets and the cooling coils. When the countdown ended...the railgun exploded...and we have a cleanup team inside the lab gathering and cataloging everything...we were just waiting on your return so we could begin the write up ont he failure. On the good side, DARPA says they are still willing to take the experiment up come the end of the test period because that's only 2 failures out of 99 tests so far." Freya sighs lifting the useless cup up and pulling it free of her hand, "I swear I leave for just a few days and everything goes to hell." She groans, "Send me the reports. I'll get started on a preliminary report then send it around for addendums." She sighed and looked about to throw the lap top across the room, until she thought better of such a childish action.

With a long slow breath she calmed, then looks around, "My apologies..." She said looking about the room.

Getting up the giant red head, headed for the bar, she needed something harder then a protein shake to get over what she just learned. Finding a bottle of vodka, the stuff her mother would drink sometimes, pouring herself a healthy dose and sipping at it at the kiten bar counter.

The Hunt, A Modern Fantasy Smorgasbord RP

That one muscled up Caster, Michael Crane

Mike moves up the last of his breakfast with the remains of one of the waffles. No bit of egg, bacon or hashbrown left on the platter. No way no how! As he did he looked at the information before them, the sign in list, the camera feeds. As moments were slowed he'd check the sign ins to make sure the pei0le there matched up. Everything seemed above board. He noted a few times when strange occurrences like a department lead talking with a merc or a team meeting in an odd area. But nothing seemed to be too off from what he knew of the OMR.

He gave his tea a sip then blinked, he was reaching for the pause button when Amanda beat him to it, "That isn't right...no I saw that too...that does look like Mosley...but wouldnt Avi had been...somewhere else entirely?" He reached over and dialed the footage of the Mosley look alike moved back and forth abit, "Speaking from experience, there are some creatures who can mimic sound and shape...the whetigo and the wendigo can do so to a limited extent, but that's a natural ability and doesn't stand up to much scrutiny." Raven cleared his throat, then spoke "We tricksters can mimic sound form and function, but the illusion falls apart if we can't match knowledge." Manabozho snickering a little, earning a dope slap from Raven.

Mike sighed at his diefic friends antics. He nodded, "I guess the only way to go from here is to the garage, see if this Mosley left that way." He couldn't believe it not even abit. He looked over at Red and Faye hoping they got more here then he could add. "We can't be that compromised right guys? I dont like the idea that a mole could be on our team. It doesnt feel right."

The Conflict

Hayden nodded and moved slightly to the side just in case the others decided to rush or enter the kill zone. And they indeed did. He mounted his Bren on a overturned desk. And did what an LMG is used best for. Reaching out with a hand he made some quick C-form measurements, thumb and pinky held out to the side of a closed fist keeping some distance between his teammates and...the rolling chatter of his Bren as he starts to fire.

Credit where it's due, the rifles the others used ate great weapons, tough and they hit hard. But there's a bit of a difference between them and a heavier gun like the Bren. The long barreled monster was designed to shoot down aircraft and as a squad weapon. And it shows. As the rounds he puts out cause a few of the until then hidden skinnies to dodge back into their hiding spots. Atleast after the first few were riddles with several holes. The gun doesn't hit as fast as newer guns, but it hits hard. Throwing one poor bastard through a pane of scrap glass. Another having his arm removed when two round punch through his shoulder. He fell screaming in horror.

And then the action had moved far enough up, he called l, "Displacing..." He sounds put together, like the gunfire this time has kept his mind stable...what's the trigger? What makes him see red black and white, and what makes him seem stable, an enigma within a puzzle. Hayden almost deadlines the Bren up pulling the pry 30 round clip off the top, sliding it into the empty pocket to be reloaded later. And with a huff one of those 100 round pans is removed off his harness, slapped u0 top the gun, fitted with a thump of his fist and the gun full charged just as he riches the wall with Sean, he peers at the Irishman the battle high clear in everyone. A look for Kat to make sure she's okay, a look Beth then as he steps around, knee chambered he hears a cry of rage the click of something one handed maybe? He dodged luck pure luck ad some bug slug punched through the door and would have cored Hayden right in the gut. He growled, hollering, "Hey bitch, suck my dick!" Then back kicked the door open enough for Sean to get the grenade in, "Fire in the hole!" A curse from with, the door shooting off its hinges outwards. And just like Sean said, Hayden turns the side of the door braces the big gun on his hip, sling tight, and the hose begins.

100 rounds. One hundred. Brass flying, rounds hissing. Sparks from within the room even as the black smoke from the grenade still hasn't cleared.

One hundred rounds. The muzzle of the Bren sweeping an arc back and forth hosing the inside of the room.

And it's only when the gun clicks empty that it finally ends, Hayden standing there panting, now his eyes are glassy, now he's not all there, but this is different this isn't the blind blood rage from the earlier fights, this is a gun high.

Hayden puffs and releases his white knuckled grip on the Bren carefully and goes for his pistol, "Let's clear it..." He gulps then reaches up to pat the top of his head, "On me." The classic sign. And they are headed into the room.

And one by one the bodies come in to view. Skinnies hit by the grenade. And quickly those who had been hit by that hosing from the LMG. Hayden steps left from the door, pistol held ahead, reaching one of the far corners turning to watch as others come I to the room, "Clear..." And his eyes go right to the queen bitch her self. Some how unlike the others in the room she's barely clinging to life.

For how long who knows. She sits and croak and coughs, a mangled revolver in one hand her rebar stake held in a blooded hand on the other side. Sheer spite and evil keeping her breathing. She lays against what looks like a safe glaring at the team. Yes that is a very angry woman.