CFProxy

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard ~

Bradley Miller

Bradley Miller

Gender

Male

Age

19
[January 20th, 1895]

Sexuality

Heterosexual

Nationality

Vinlander

Appearance

Sporting a muscular build and a single scar upon his bare chest but an inch from his heart, Bradley stands to be a growing man with bright hair, eyes, and skin.

Height

5’ 10”

Personality

A man of action. Bold. Handsome. A working man of pride and passion. If you were Bradley’s friend you were under the wing of a man who had fought tooth and nail for his trophies and medals and remained cool under pressure.

Even if not the most brilliant in his group of boys the strong leader was always quite the leader who accepted that there were others who knew more than him about specialized categories. All he need concern himself with was keeping people in line and the group happy. Tell them where to go and surely they follow.

Despite being quite the man of valor and unforgiving patriotism he has proven to have some fatal flaws in the different land he found himself in. For in his sect of the United States of Vinland culture was surely different. Men were expected to take up the role of patriarch without question. Fight for your worth. Provide for the entire family yourself, be the man your neighbor wishes he could be. That was the way he had been told and it was the same way he became the leader of The Bloodwater Gang. Even if a group of sharks and freelancers for property damage and roughing up of targets they were always sure to be gentlemen to those who fell in line… Except for the Darscen…

Rank

Private

Role

Shocktrooper

Equipment

[Standard Equipment based on class.]

Potentials
[Ideological Crusader] Democracy or death. Liberty or death. Give the man the promise of Vinlander ideals and an enemy who doesn’t believe in those virtues and you’ve a man with endless motivation.

[Eye Of The Hurricane] Consumed by his ideas and upbringing he has no fear of death. When faced with everything stacked against him he finds the ability to maintain his thoughts and make a plan even under the pressure of high explosives.

[Darcsen Hater] Due to his past with Darscen he fights especially hard against Darscen and proves to be, even if cruel, much more focused when fighting those “damned black heads.” Although it can get him in trouble.

[To The Last Breath] Resilient by spirit, Bradley has a knack of staying alive and kicking longer than average by sheer will. Although he is not made invincible he is capable of taking further action as though he has suffered no wounds for some time after even if the pain is felt through it all.

Biography

Early Life

As a child he had much love to give and much strength to build up to. He was a boy loved deeply by his mother with a father that punished him for misbehaving. Punishments so severe that his mother pleaded with his father to spare the boy further blood loss from a blood soaked backhand slap. It was hard, yes, but through hard labor and routine he proved to be quite durable even as a child. Whether it was falling off the railing and cutting his arm or getting into scraps with bullies to help his friends, or enduring the iron fist his father held. There was simply to work, study, and support the family.

Adolescence

Although his father was a hard and seemingly heartless man, an act of kindness would slip by on occasion. The lifestyle they lived spoke of what trauma Bradley's father endured. Perhaps he didn't want Bradley to fall into the same pitfalls as he. Perhaps the life they lived would have been better served if Howard had not endured such torture in the world. However, it simply wasn't the reality. Perhaps if his life was different, he wouldn't have invited that Darscen into his home.

A poor fellow was Dennis. He was a Darscen, no doubt. A strong man. He was poor and in need of a meal. In the dying light he would be of no use to anyone. The rain and flood enough to kill him if thrown out. It was by Bradley and Howard's brief glance and offer to keep the boy of 16 years into their home. It was by their admission that they saved a life. It was by their admission that they sacrificed another.

Bradley knew Dennis with time. He came to know him as brother and called him so. He welcomed him to events and reassured him that things would be fine as he tried to push Dennis to follow him to every event he so dearly loved. Playing sports, volunteering, boxing for practice, and even overtime at a job he was respected at.

However, even as he reached out to the man he had always insisted to stay home with the exception to leave for work. It was odd for someone like Bradley. It was odd to simply rot at home. It was odd to simply speak with his mother all the time, but he had no inquiry beyond his well being.

Such lack of curiosity... Such trust in a man who was a victim of the life such as he...

In a dark cold night when Bradley had returned home late from watching one too many films. A happy man returned. A shocked one entered the door.

Laying on the ground his father with a blast through the head and his mother with a knife against her throat, torn fabric, tears in eyes, and a cry to Bradley as, in the struggle, Dennis slipped and sliced her open. Shock turned to grief. Grief turned to hellfire. In a short lived brawl the black hair and a bullet wound through the stomach Bradley lived. Only barely. A trauma ridden Bradley with no family left had much on his mind.

When he cracked Dennis' skull open all he could think about was how this man they sheltered carried in his pockets the deed to the house, a stock of money, and his mother's necklace. His father didn't see this betrayal coming. Neither did his mother. Neither did Bradley.

The Bloodwater Gang

During recovery Bradley spent much time in the hospital listening to radio and watching the streets. On the radio cases of Darcsen breaking and entering, homicide, rape, possession of illegals. Every last case of crime accredited to Darcsen fighting against the system.

When Bradley left the hospital he attended therapy, regaining, rebuilding, listening to the radio spout more and more of the Darcsen and their problem against the people he knew as pure. With every pump of the iron and every punch of the sandbag he felt himself to be more and more capable.

However, as he approached his peak health, he had to wonder if he wanted to commit to his ideas. He had sold the house, that place unfit to live in anymore with the memories so strong. He spent weeks after gathering friends, angry civies, and downtrodden men and women looking for something to eat, even Darcsen ashamed to wear their natural colors to join their cause.

Then, one night in a bar where many of these Darcsen guilty of breaking the law had rested away with Darcsen who had nothing to do with it, in came the angry mob by force in the middle of a speech about socialism. In a matter of moments a loud confrontation quickly shed blood and armed Darcsen were cut down before they could retaliate. A social shift occurred as the radicals of both ends created chaos in a small town.

With the police involved many arrests occurred, although the Bloodwater Gang slipped away.

With a base of operations established they would continue to hunt Darcsen for their crimes, guilty or not, and would help those who were not Darcsen religiously.

That is, at least, all one would be willing to tell you if you asked a resident within the county.

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard ~

Anneli Kivelä

Anneli Kivelä

Gender

Female

Age

17
[September 28th, 1896]

Sexuality

Objectively Undecided. Notable admiration for police, shovels, and underground martial arts tournaments.

Race

Federal Dovenjel

Appearance

A light skinned woman standing at a fair 5’ 7”. Usually well kept with tendencies to wear uniforms, collar shirts, shorts, pants, and generally socially acceptable formal variety with more masculine casual attire. Despite this, she’s well kept and well toned. Usually seen in higher spirits, she’s a smiling woman that can have quite a monstrous snarl when approached with “anarchic degenerates.”

Height

5' 7"

Personality

While “friendly” does match the tone of her character and in essence captures the basics of what she sets out to be, one could argue her more abrasive ended personality can be quite a stick in the mud depending on her mood. Although capable of being a very nice, charming, romantic, and very caring individual she is just as easily capable of breaking your back in half over calling her cookies overrated third world trash.

Being especially “feminine” is not a concern. Lady like gestures of other cultures were lost on the daughter of a police officer who brutally cracked down on criminals and enjoyed tossing his daughter around on the Casual Judo Friday that would occur. She went from being the third youngest in a family of 8 children who would be thrown around quite easily to becoming capable of grappling and tossing everyone in her family including her father at the age of 15. She was always a fan of sports and while not always a player on the field she made for a rather loud and abrasive fan who would sometimes get a little too hot. Proud and loyal, she never gave up on her teams even when one of them went 0-12 on a bad year.

Being more of a “boy’s girl” she was often subjected to being treated more as a male in terms of societal norms and due to being the daughter of a hardass police officer she was often seen as a “good girl” who would subject others to understanding order if it wasn’t established in some capacity when she was younger. As she began developing sexual feelings she became curious and experimented with both boys and girls in an attempt to sate her cravings. However, it often ended in failure due to her authoritarian nature which demanded her partners to be more than they were capable of. This rejection, even in realizing later that it was her own fault, led to her uncertainty as her feelings for both remained. It seemed, however, that it wasn’t the only thing that seemed to click as when a very loud and obnoxious neighbor made fun of her for getting rather dirty while digging holes she approached the unsuspecting man and knocked him out with one swift blow to the head with her shovel. Although, she had to later apologize for committing assault and sending the poor fool to the hospital, she couldn’t help but remember how sweet the sound of her shovel slamming against skull was. The lingering feeling only made her doubt herself further.

Rank

Private

Role

Rifleman

Equipment

Standard Issue with a very durable shovel.

Potentials
[Professional Sadist] Having discovered a love for inflicting pain onto others, she’s quite eased into hurting her enemy. Although she does not like actually killing people, she derives joy from hurting or controlling others in ways but is known to draw the line depending on the comforts of the ally.

[Law and Order] She believes in following law, although not entirely by the book. Orders should be listened to as a general guideline on how to accomplish an objective but above all there must be a sense of unity to preserve the state out of duty, of which her father drilled into her as a young one.

[Winter’s Delight] A lover of the snow, she moves, sees, tracks, and fights far better in the cold and especially the snow. The sight of snow alone warms her heart.

[Overwatch] When tasked with methodically standing guard over a location she finds she’s quite adept at picking up clues that would otherwise go unnoticed. While it is a skill she picked up from her father, it also enables her to have a more preemptive reaction to circumstance.

Biography

Early Life

Growing up as the daughter of a police officer meant many things for one such as herself but one thing was very clear even as she grew to be a teenager. Authority is necessary. She believed so with her father who she admired so much for his bravery, admirable tone, calm demeanor, and radiating aura of discipline. She was an experimental child in an attempt to further strengthen the ideals of his law loving ways and instilled a very tough young woman into the world who had gone from crying after stepping into a puddle without her shoes on to throwing bullies into corners and not letting them get up until an adult stopped her. Even though she was trained to be tough she never lost her sense of joy and child like wonder. In fact, she only came to appreciate life more knowing that life would not be this easy and gentle procedure that she had first thought it to be in the lovely snow fields. She was one who began to adopt more masculine ideas after spending much time with her father and came to want to dress and act like him as her fondness for her parental figure grew with time. Despite having these occasional breaches in civility, she was an honor bound student with excellent grades, disciplined behavior, and a lovely smile that spoke in contrast to the bullies who found themselves unfortunate enough to see otherwise.

Adolescence

Although she was quite the model student problems at home would seep into her personality. Her father, enduring some personal trauma and feeling as though he had failed in being able to shape his failure of an elder son and the following daughter led to him becoming a bit less patient with his project daughter. Although he loved her very much, his doubts and anger led him to speak more harshly with her and drive her to questioning what she did wrong as the standards of her behavior were raised in order to earn her father’s approval. As time went on she found her child like joy diminishing and the stricter nature developing. She sought after partners with her father stressing more than ever about his job and struggling to make ends meet with unfortunate changes in circumstances for the time. She naturally attempted to help raise money but often thought of how she had failed him before. As such she was often hard pushing and dedicated with stamina and strength unusual for one of her age but also sad and angry when she thought too much about her father’s agony. Her frustrations seeped into her relationships, becoming too tightfisted thinking about how her father expected better of her and especially did so when he learned she had begun dating to begin with, which, she thought would be received better. Although she continued to date behind his back, she couldn’t help but doubt if she should even be dating at all and would sometimes consider if she was committing a crime by being in love. Was it simply another obstacle in life? Was she just confused? Perhaps, in her head, it was a mixture of both and perhaps another. With time passing and the situation seeming to get worse, she experienced failure and rejection from not just her father but also her relationships which she began to stray from. It wasn’t until the tailend that she remembered the values of her childhood and began to smile at her father regardless. She would tell him how much she loved him and worked hard even after being told she was a failure, loudly proclaiming how she wanted to make him proud. It was at this time that a crisis gripped father accepted her with tears and her child like joy and desire for new things came about again.

Prior to War

A functional adult. That’s the compliment she received even if she was sometimes sensitive to certain phrases. Developed, curious, forward, and a respecting personality who cared for those around her. A teary eyed father wishing her to pursue a career in the police force instead understood her desire to keep her family safe and painfully allowed her to serve alongside her siblings.

Affiliations
TBC

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard ~

Anneli Kivelä

Anneli Kivelä

Gender

Female

Age

17
[September 28th, 1896]

Sexuality

Objectively Undecided. Notable admiration for police, shovels, and underground martial arts tournaments.

Race

Federal Dovenjel

Appearance

A light skinned woman standing at a fair 5’ 7”. Usually well kept with tendencies to wear uniforms, collar shirts, shorts, pants, and generally socially acceptable formal variety with more masculine casual attire. Despite this, she’s well kept and well toned. Usually seen in higher spirits, she’s a smiling woman that can have quite a monstrous snarl when approached with “anarchic degenerates.”

Height

5' 7"

Personality

While “friendly” does match the tone of her character and in essence captures the basics of what she sets out to be, one could argue her more abrasive ended personality can be quite a stick in the mud depending on her mood. Although capable of being a very nice, charming, romantic, and very caring individual she is just as easily capable of breaking your back in half over calling her cookies overrated third world trash.

Being especially “feminine” is not a concern. Lady like gestures of other cultures were lost on the daughter of a police officer who brutally cracked down on criminals and enjoyed tossing his daughter around on the Casual Judo Friday that would occur. She went from being the third youngest in a family of 8 children who would be thrown around quite easily to becoming capable of grappling and tossing everyone in her family including her father at the age of 15. She was always a fan of sports and while not always a player on the field she made for a rather loud and abrasive fan who would sometimes get a little too hot. Proud and loyal, she never gave up on her teams even when one of them went 0-12 on a bad year.

Being more of a “boy’s girl” she was often subjected to being treated more as a male in terms of societal norms and due to being the daughter of a hardass police officer she was often seen as a “good girl” who would subject others to understanding order if it wasn’t established in some capacity when she was younger. As she began developing sexual feelings she became curious and experimented with both boys and girls in an attempt to sate her cravings. However, it often ended in failure due to her authoritarian nature which demanded her partners to be more than they were capable of. This rejection, even in realizing later that it was her own fault, led to her uncertainty as her feelings for both remained. It seemed, however, that it wasn’t the only thing that seemed to click as when a very loud and obnoxious neighbor made fun of her for getting rather dirty while digging holes she approached the unsuspecting man and knocked him out with one swift blow to the head with her shovel. Although, she had to later apologize for committing assault and sending the poor fool to the hospital, she couldn’t help but remember how sweet the sound of her shovel slamming against skull was. The lingering feeling only made her doubt herself further.

Rank

Private

Role

Rifleman

Equipment

Standard Issue with a very durable shovel.

Potentials
[Professional Sadist] Having discovered a love for inflicting pain onto others, she’s quite eased into hurting her enemy. Although she does not like actually killing people, she derives joy from hurting or controlling others in ways but is known to draw the line depending on the comforts of the ally.

[Law and Order] She believes in following law, although not entirely by the book. Orders should be listened to as a general guideline on how to accomplish an objective but above all there must be a sense of unity to preserve the state out of duty, of which her father drilled into her as a young one.

[Winter’s Delight] A lover of the snow, she moves, sees, tracks, and fights far better in the cold and especially the snow. The sight of snow alone warms her heart.

[Overwatch] When tasked with methodically standing guard over a location she finds she’s quite adept at picking up clues that would otherwise go unnoticed. While it is a skill she picked up from her father, it also enables her to have a more preemptive reaction to circumstance.

Biography

Early Life

Growing up as the daughter of a police officer meant many things for one such as herself but one thing was very clear even as she grew to be a teenager. Authority is necessary. She believed so with her father who she admired so much for his bravery, admirable tone, calm demeanor, and radiating aura of discipline. She was an experimental child in an attempt to further strengthen the ideals of his law loving ways and instilled a very tough young woman into the world who had gone from crying after stepping into a puddle without her shoes on to throwing bullies into corners and not letting them get up until an adult stopped her. Even though she was trained to be tough she never lost her sense of joy and child like wonder. In fact, she only came to appreciate life more knowing that life would not be this easy and gentle procedure that she had first thought it to be in the lovely snow fields. She was one who began to adopt more masculine ideas after spending much time with her father and came to want to dress and act like him as her fondness for her parental figure grew with time. Despite having these occasional breaches in civility, she was an honor bound student with excellent grades, disciplined behavior, and a lovely smile that spoke in contrast to the bullies who found themselves unfortunate enough to see otherwise.

Adolescence

Although she was quite the model student problems at home would seep into her personality. Her father, enduring some personal trauma and feeling as though he had failed in being able to shape his failure of an elder son and the following daughter led to him becoming a bit less patient with his project daughter. Although he loved her very much, his doubts and anger led him to speak more harshly with her and drive her to questioning what she did wrong as the standards of her behavior were raised in order to earn her father’s approval. As time went on she found her child like joy diminishing and the stricter nature developing. She sought after partners with her father stressing more than ever about his job and struggling to make ends meet with unfortunate changes in circumstances for the time. She naturally attempted to help raise money but often thought of how she had failed him before. As such she was often hard pushing and dedicated with stamina and strength unusual for one of her age but also sad and angry when she thought too much about her father’s agony. Her frustrations seeped into her relationships, becoming too tightfisted thinking about how her father expected better of her and especially did so when he learned she had begun dating to begin with, which, she thought would be received better. Although she continued to date behind his back, she couldn’t help but doubt if she should even be dating at all and would sometimes consider if she was committing a crime by being in love. Was it simply another obstacle in life? Was she just confused? Perhaps, in her head, it was a mixture of both and perhaps another. With time passing and the situation seeming to get worse, she experienced failure and rejection from not just her father but also her relationships which she began to stray from. It wasn’t until the tailend that she remembered the values of her childhood and began to smile at her father regardless. She would tell him how much she loved him and worked hard even after being told she was a failure, loudly proclaiming how she wanted to make him proud. It was at this time that a crisis gripped father accepted her with tears and her child like joy and desire for new things came about again.

Prior to War

A functional adult. That’s the compliment she received even if she was sometimes sensitive to certain phrases. Developed, curious, forward, and a respecting personality who cared for those around her. A teary eyed father wishing her to pursue a career in the police force instead understood her desire to keep her family safe and painfully allowed her to serve alongside her siblings.

Affiliations
TBC

Rainbow Six – Whispers of The Blazing Sky

Alright as one more update I just wanted to let you guys know I got a big post out of the way so either on the 29th or the 30th I'll have the Discord functional.

I recognize I've been rather slow but I've had a lot of catching up to do and I admit I ended up playing a bit of a game with a few friends since they wanted me to play with them. Anyway, thanks for being patient and hope to breach with you guys soon.

The plan is to have the map for the first area and OP done about the same time although if need be probably stretch it to the 1st or 2nd but otherwise the beginning is more or less set.

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard ~

---

Dear Amber

Every moment I’ve spent here has taught me something that I never knew. I relive the things I once experienced. The darkness of society reaches its hand over the shadow of war. I must say, I’m unsure how I feel of all things. There is but so little that can be done of my situation, but I still think about you.

The death of a few pretty girls and the questioning if I’ll ever see my sunshine again. It’s possible, perhaps by the time you finally receive this my heart won’t be so cold. The train ride has been interesting, the people aboard varying in personality. Their blood runs cold knowing what is up ahead in the sleepless nights and the darkness of the war consumes the men who could not have been prepared for this war.

I witnessed a woman stare out into the landscape during the night. I stayed by her, smoking and watching her just urinate through her pants, holding herself tightly. Nothing I could say would snap her out. I gave her my jacket for the night, a few cigarettes, and stood up thinking about what I had suffered. I was nobody special, but neither is a Darcsen ever given the right to be human. In the starlit night I could comfort another of my kin.

I haven’t been in this war for even a year, and neither have many of the recruits who march at the whim of the now captain that I serve. I try to maintain what friendships I have. I take refuge in the shortest among them; Michael Daunte. Should you come across him, be assured that confiding in him will be worth your time. He has a future ahead of himself. He helped me understand my own.

Although I still have no actual drive to… save myself. If there is the opportunity to save others I will do so. My purpose has never been without being the second hand, so to speak. Under no circumstance have I truly done anything for my own will or my own thoughts. Day after day I lived to serve others. Even when I was with my ungrateful father I had no autonomy. Under the wing of Markus I have never found myself wanting to do anything but be his pawn. For men like me, there is room for life.

In an autocratic structure I hold purpose and some value. I’m no genius. I’m hardly a philosopher. I’m just a brawler who survived the slums. A muscleman with a record of breaking people as much as they break me. The love and hate that swirls within holds no bounds in an ocean of blood. Yet no matter how hard I paddle I find that I’m always following the current of the stream but I don’t know any other way.

For the first time in my life I’ve killed people. I had always made it a policy before to cripple and maim but never to kill. It wasn’t my job. Even after Vanis was executed in the streets I couldn’t find it in me to murder. Markus never told me to get revenge in that way and so I never did. I can’t help but feel responsible. Yet what happened then was something that I can never forget and in what I’ve done now I wonder just how much restraint I’ll have in the future. With more and more blood and bodies piling and that god damn lieutenant…

Whoever promoted him I hope burns in hell. There is nothing about that promotion that was warranted. The blood thirsty tyrant sends his legions against the merciful who fight to save their lives and to preserve their future. The federation may not have started the war but under what fucking pretense would they believe they have anything on the empire? Blood sucking zombies starve its army of life and laugh it off while they pull men from their homes and scream charge for their amusement as we drop dead in the dust!

I… I can’t help but feel so much anger. I’ve never been more angry in my life but I’ve held it inside. I’ve held in every emotion to stop from losing myself. I’m trying to get a grip but I can’t help but feel it slip with a bomb in the ear and a body in the grave there’s nothing that can restore a feeling of evergreen when all you see is blood and grit…

I don’t want to linger on these feelings but I already know that with every passing day I’ll see less and less of the people I am near. The fucking assholes and the people of pure heart who I’ve come to appreciate. I knocked down this sorry excuse of a man and although I know he’s a strong man himself I know he won’t survive. He’s the kind of rat that gets caught in the trap just when he thinks he’s got his prize. You can hear it in the way he talks and you can see it in the way he walks. I can’t say I’ll be sad to see him gone. Maybe I’ll have regrets in not doing the job myself.

I’m talking out of spite but… I want this war to end. If it wasn’t for you, Markus, and the gang I don’t think I would be fighting for the Federation. I never wanted to come here in the first place but you said you were here. I trusted in that and maybe when you get this letter I won’t be here anymore. Knowing my luck you’ll probably get them when I’m dead or have left to greener pastures… hell who am I kidding. I’ll probably spend my whole life in the Federation if Markus stays there. He says he has a good thing going here. His older sister has a lot of the business “wrapped around her thumb.”

I drew a lot of pictures. I’ve secretly been making portraits while most people have been asleep or in the privacy of some corner. Some bastard tried to take my canvas from me and were it not for an NCO getting in the middle of it I probably would have cracked the rest of his ribs… Still… I’m sure you would like them. I’ve got them all in my memory. I’ll just remake them. I’ll try to get some rest. I guess I’ll write again when I’m in the mood.

---

Franz awoke with a cough. Tired eyes pried open as the blood red sky returned. He was more conscious this time. Something about this place was… familiar. Memories of the past flooded in and he remembered Wagner’s beautiful face turned blackened with darkness and bitterness.

Sweat poured down his cheeks in his fever. He felt his face and chest, noting nothing had been destroyed. But there was something ahead as far as he could tell. After gathering himself he approached the door.

Exiting the hallway he found himself in the train station, the building behind him gone as he turned to view it. He was just here… Not very long ago it seemed. He retraced his steps and found even the place where he had knocked out that racist. It felt damn good, but… not here.

Upon that very same spot laid a corpse, the very same as the man he decked, it seemed. It spiked the man’s adrenaline. With a crack of lightning he whipped his rifle from its resting position. A crack in the clouds. Suddenly a bolt slapped the ground, breaking the foundation with a thunderous roar as from afar came that figure- that damned figure!

The mist rolled in, thick as fog. It was smoke of some kind and walking knee deep in it was that man with a mask. Even from where Franz stood he could feel the man staring him down with those bulging goggled eyes. Fingers caressed the clouds of death riding beside him as though they were demons for him to command. A true hell monster wrapped into a uniform. Was this the reaper? Is this what form it possessed?

Franz held firm, he remembered what had occurred in the last encounter. He would not budge so quickly this time… it was just a dream… right? Loading his rifle he took aim and dropped to a knee, aiming right for the man’s face as he came closer, walking at a brisk pace with some kind of firearm hidden in the smoke. What was it?

He fired the first round, the spinning metal twirling fiercely as it honed in on the man’s skull. He dashed! It missed! Another round prepared as the figure closed the gap. 500 meters.

He aimed for the legs this time, he had to stop this advance!

Fire! Miss! 400 Meters!

The chest? He had to act quickly!

Fire! Miss! 300 Meters!

How was he so fast? Was he riding the smoke?

Fire! Hit! No! It just clipped him! 200 Meters!

Shit! Shit! Shit! Don’t let him come any closer!

Fire! Miss! Fuck! 100 Meters!

Franz took a deep breath. As the next clip loaded in he watched the movement patterns and looked for deviation. On the 3rd step he moved slightly down for two steps. On the 8th step of every dash he moved slightly to the left. On the 12th of every cycle he was moving slightly right. Count… Count… Count! There!

Fire! Hit! 5 meters!

The running body’s head cracked wide open, the blood spray shooting from the back end as the smoke coated his body in the fall.

Panting… Panting… Had he done it?

Franz collected himself for the moment, breathing hard with a gasping start. He took slow steps toward the smoke, covering his face as the fog caused him to cough. He thought for a moment and moved away from the center of its strength, no need to waste time here. With that he shifted toward the outside ring, looking for any more of his kind. It didn’t appear so.

He needed to leave. The train, he wo- Something touched his shoulder-

Turned around abruptly he felt that firearm press against his rib-cage, looking down to it as the smoke hovered but centimeters from his face. He grabbed at it, trying to pull it away as the smoke grabbed his arm. It dispersed and suddenly the man in the mask was there again. There was smoke leaking from his wound where blood should have been. The firearm’s smoke dispersed, revealing a shotgun to be pressing against him as he quickly looked up to face this threat.

“It’s my turn, cod.”

With a loud boom the insides became outsides with a flush of metal casings spreading the crimson paint across the canvas. Eyes widened in relentless fury as the pain was real. It was very real. He gagged on his blood, the shock settling in as the soldier dropped instantly.

Eyes locked onto the ground which turned into a dusty area. His mind tried to process the pain he was struggling through. He tried to gasp but found nothing there. He needed something- anything as the world grew darker. He looked around with his eyes and… the birds? Vultures landing upon… the bodies… it couldn’t be… was he… the trench? He couldn’t… focus…

Eyes flickered as his tongue came loose with rag-dolled limbs. He couldn’t control himself anymore. He simply laid there in that pit underneath a body above him. Then there was a loud clap of a boot touching near his face. Vision was becoming blurry and it doubled. He felt numb... so very numb.

The boot’s tip grabbed the side of his nose pulling his face to look at the man in the mask who held a pump action casually. He tilted his head, staring at Franz as if to judge him proper before listening to the call of other voices. At that moment the man in the mask looked to the voices, to Franz, and then removed his boot from the solider. Steps faded as the man left, only the smoke left behind.

---

Franz awoke with a gasp, feeling pain in his chest as he stood from his sleeping spot. He fell to his side trying to recover and listened as a soldier looked his way.


"Don't jerk it too hard, private. Got a march to catch."

The door of the train closed. Franz snapped. Slamming the door open from a rushed stumble upward he looked for the soldier, breathing heavily as soldiers looked to him oddly. He ran through the cart, shoving aside a poor boy in the way and digging through the crowd to find that bastard! He had to be giving him these nightmares! He had to be! Swimming through the current he found himself going nowhere, checking every face, nook, and cranny before ending up right behind his squad with no sight of that bastard…

Was he… Oh god…

Franz trembled internally at the prospect of madness settling in. Paranoia crept and crawled on his back as he took deep breaths as quietly as possible. He needed to be an anchor… He had to be an anchor for his squad. He couldn’t lose it. Not here. Not now. Just… march… Focus on the… march…

As time went on Franz considered what he had gone through and remembered that they were supposed to get off the train about this time anyway. He had shoved a boy trying to get off and now that he realized that he felt rather bad. He was surprised some officer didn’t break his face in and somehow he got away from punishment yet again. What he stole in reality he paid for ahead of time in dreams. Was this some kind of morality check? Maybe it just happened to be massive coincidences… But why the man in the mask? Who was he? Did he matter? Was it some kind of… oh what were they called? Harbinger?

He was pulled out of reality for the longest until the sudden crash of the waves sent him on edge again. He watched as death carved holes into those poor souls. The fallen crashing into the world with speeds unholy. This slaughter was merciless. Yet… as the dust settled and the blood soaked the ground Franz felt something interesting within.

Nothing.

It was hard to describe, he supposed, but he looked upon the corpses and felt nothing. Was it the shock? Was it just trauma overdone? He saw soldiers commanded to their death and he couldn’t help but feel nothing. In fact, he laughed a little thinking about it further. Here they were to play this little game of life and death with orders to rush into certain death.

He felt something trying to claw its way out from his throat. Piercing his tongue into an upright position with strained movements as it slammed claws into the roof of his mouth, causing his neutral gaze to undertake a narrowed, furious expression. The claws tried to climb out from the mouth, teeth clamping onto said claws before they could escape. Franz bit down on his wrath. He clutched his teeth and grit hard with a deep growl brewing beneath. Blood-lust swirled into his mind as the madness split into joy and anger. Joy and anger that he had to suppress within but a broken mind doing the job for him as once more he felt nothing. As soon as it came the feelings were fleeting. Neutrality overtook him once more as he pulled out his pack of Brimstone and lit a stick knowing those lives wouldn’t be coming back. He had to move on.

Death was a shock to all, but as he spent more time near it and as he remembered the many he had lost he couldn’t help but feel like maybe he was growing numb to it. That was a bad thing, surely, but it was truth, he thought. As he traveled he seemed to forget where he even was, focused on keeping himself in check.

Check… He had to check on his friends. He moved to talk with Michael… although he was busy with Lucia it seemed. There was Jean and Kalisa, which, seemed rather inevitable at this point. They would make a good pair, maybe. Diana and Reyna there as well… Well, he supposed he would just lurk behind, watch over the herd for now. There wasn’t anything of interest- or was there?

Something which brought attention to his eyes was a new Darcsen. She was attractive as well. Rough around the edges, yes, but from where he stood it seemed as though she had seen her own share of troubles. He could relate. Not to be rude, he ought to introduce himself to the Darscen. Jean had enough girls to deal with anyhow, pulling one off him for a moment wouldn’t hurt.

Still… He thought about Green Fox. He had read about the man when he was studying in the Federation. An esteemed sniper with feared hunting prowess. He had heard so called professionals and military experts say that he was just a tool of the empire. That his ability was exaggerated for propaganda and his fame but a ruse. Franz knew better, however, because his research on the man as well as personal experience stories from the few Imperials he had come across had something to say of the man, although none were too willing to say much more than needed. Throughout the beginning of the war he had heard of a man slaughtering Feds that matched up with his research. It was him. He could use that information to stay alive. But… He was a hero if he was being honest. Franz loved Green Fox. He was an idol that never lost his shine. But this Middleton would probably sacrifice them to try and kill his hero… His hero… Even though he wanted to keep his allies safe he didn’t want Fox to die. He had too much emotional investment in that great man. If the time came… Focus, Franz.

Franz approached Inès calmly, flicking his cigarette ashes to the side as he pipped up. “Welcome to hell, I’m your tour guide: Franz Blau. Good to see another Darcsen.” He offered his free hand to her, a proper shake in order as he maintained a mostly neutral expression. He even offered her a cigarette.

Rainbow Six – Whispers of The Blazing Sky

@DegenerateThree
Oh it certainly is. I apologize for the radio silence, I've just been spending this time catching up on some things. You're welcome to join us!

I'll tidy up the discord and drop the link.

What's left to do now is just drawing up a map and finishing up a couple of ops I've got made.

Rainbow Six – Whispers of The Blazing Sky

Then with as many people as we do have for the Rainbow angle I'll get things set up for the Seven story as well as the trial operation. As said before it is likely going to start in a S.A.S. facility where the squad will get introduced to each other IF they don't know each other already and I'll work on an OP. If you have any relations to the ops like Ghost does then it might be a good time to introduce those relations.

Because we are working from the Rainbow angle we will be seeing collaborations with Rainbow Six. When I get the new OP I'll link the thread here and there you can post your full character sheets. I look forward to working with you. and of course we will have operators from the Silver Octopus Legion who we will face off against as the time comes.

Rainbow Six – Whispers of The Blazing Sky

@Lucky

I look forward to seeing what you come up with!

Rainbow Six – Whispers of The Blazing Sky

@CaptainSully

That is more than fine. Rainbow is what I expected anyway but I figured the terrorist option could have been an interesting angle for people to play with. In the end Seven and Legion will be gunning for each other. With time they'll become more aware of each other but Seven will discover Legion well before Legion can get anything solid on Seven.

I had ideas planned for both but at least with Rainbow Seven we'll have things starting with Smoke and Thatcher giving a rundown in an S.A.S. facility about further details of their job and what they should expect on their trial operation as well as the general tests before deployment. It's a joint operation thing although I've considered changing the name of Rainbow Seven so it is more distinct but I think it will do the job fine as well. I'm sure Ghost will fit in just fine. Maybe have a little banter with the experienced ops.

Rainbow Six – Whispers of The Blazing Sky

I'm happy to hear that all of you have such interest.

I will then ask which direction you'd like to play from or if you'd like the possibility of doing both.

I would also like to take this time to answer what possible concerns or questions you might have regarding the thread and may soon after work on setting up a discord for ease of access communication.

I already have a basic concept that I'll be working on for an operator I'll be calling "Flak" whose job is to simply provide plating like Rook for the purpose of reducing the effectiveness of explosives against the team.

@Lucky@Bee@CaptainSully@Oxenfree