CFProxy

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard ~

The Night Before the March

Sitting in the darkness there he lay. Sitting in the darkness there he wait. Sitting in the darkness he thinks alone. Sitting in the darkness he is never alone. Sitting in the darkness he sees his life unfold.

It takes a drip and then two. There is a shift in the darkness. The dark becomes light.

Then there is a rumble.

Sounds of screams flood the canals. The blood of her body drenches his hands as he stands up and tries to breathe but there is no air. The blood hair turns white. The blood turns dry and seeps into his own skin. It won't come off.

Staring at his hands he can't forget what has been seen. He knows his duty and he feels it within. He feels the beast roaring within. It shakes his core and it hits every part of his body. He closes his eyes in the darkness.

Breathe... Breathe...

"Quite lonely there, aren't you?"

The man looked up, the voice catching his attention as he rolled into cover and readied his rifle for a firefight in that dark abandoned room not far from the squad. He watched the shadow move slowly with hands raised. As it entered the moonlight it revealed itself to be a woman. It was... Melanie.

"Demon, leave me! Step closer and I'll shoot! I know you're not real!" He loudly growled through his teeth. Eyes bulged with stress bleeding his forehead. However, Melanie did not move closer. She sat down, shifting a little further away and looking at the moon.

"You can't blame yourself for what happened to us, Franz. War makes a victim of all men. You'll never know us, yes. But it doesn't mean life is over. Our lives are so short. Even if you hadn't killed us, we would have all gone with time."

"But I'm the one who killed you!" Tears began to flow from the man's cheeks as he shakily lowered his guard, his vision blurred by his own torment. "I can't let that go! Here I am, a stupid idiot who fails his own beloved country by actively fighting it! My sister- I'm putting her at risk! What if I must kill her as I've killed you? I- No... No you're..."

Franz held his head, pressing it against the floorboards and shaking slowly. "No... No she's not... you're not real... You're dead. You've been dead. Go away. Leave me. You're not real. You're not real..."

As he looked up he found her gone. Not a trace of her was left. In that moment he felt immense regret. He wanted to keep talking. He wanted her to stay. But was it good for him? Was it good for any man to be bound by the creations of his own mind? He supposed not. It couldn't have been? Right? Yet... that realization sunk in. He made her go away...

"Your fault" "Murderer" "Federal dog" "Bloodthirsty" "Warmonger" "Heathen" "Hellspawn" "It was you" "It was you" "It was you!"

As the voices spoke Franz found himself moving towards the moonlight, crawling backwards with gun aiming around at the lifeless eyes staring at him from the shadows. "It was war! I was only following orders!" Yet even as he hissed out his response the voices grew louder!

"Murderer!" "Guilty!" "Your fault!" "Guilty!" "Murderer!" "Warmonger!" "Psychopath!" "Murderer!" "Killed enough maidens in your time?!" "Their blood is on your hands!" "Disgusting barbarian!" "Apathetic!" "Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!"

"I-I'm not- I ca- I- It was my- My duty is-"

Soon all Franz could do was weep and crawl up into a ball onto the ground. The constant pounding from the voices ripped at his mind. Yet, even as the hounding continued there was something strained inside that was trying its best. There was something inside that couldn't take much more. Then, without warning, snap.

The voices faded. Franz's tears dried. The howling of the wind felt ever so silent. Laying on his back Franz felt... nothing. He laid there for a while. He lost track. But when he sat up and hugged his legs he felt something on his back.

"Accepting of your fate?" Another voice.

"I do what must be done... Nothing more, nothing less."

"So you tell yourself. What was so special about those women."

"They were Imperial. I... I loved them."

"You hardly knew them Franz. You cannot love what you do not know."

"Then what would you call it, shadow?"

"Delusional."

"I can't escape you. What do you want from me?"

"I am not here to hurt you. Have you not noticed how much I have helped you? Do you resist me because I am not familiar? Or maybe I am too familiar?"

"Are you even my own thoughts?"

"Would you honestly ask yourself that question?"

"I... I don't know."

"You do know. And you know that you will continue to suffer. But why struggle? This world has done nothing for you. Time after time it has taken everything from you. Even Amber is gone."

"You don't know that."

"Do you think she would have really left you in the dark for this long? Do you really think the Amber you know would have abandonded you for so long? She is either dead... or- Maybe she doesn't care about poor poor Franz."

"Don't speak of her like that!"

"Don't speak of her like that! Wah! Such a child! You call yourself an adult?! Listen to yourself! You weep over a woman who has been gone from you for so long! You cry! You wail! You throw your tantrum about how you've killed women you know nothing about! Move on!"

Franz felt his spirit sink, looking at the ground as the scolding trapped him further in.

"Oh? Did our feelings surface? Did our nerve get struck? Franz, you know how to survive. This is not how one should. But, if you are tired of fighting..."

The rifle was picked up from the floor. Into his hands the weapon of death rode into the palms of the soldier. The shadow wrapped around his wrists and guided his fingers to close. "You can find rest now. All it takes is one shot."

Franz stared at the weapon, glaring up at the shadow with an angered growl.

"Then choke."

Once more that smoke burned into his lungs. That smoke surrounded him and once more the man in the mask appeared again. He stood and watched as the soldier wheezed. Grunts and groans as the masked man grabbed him by the throat and pressed a finger against his mouth. A gentle shush. A quiet fade out of the small light that existed.

Franz awoke quietly, sprawled out on the ground with mouth covered by the floorboards. Another nightmare...

After a brief inspection he marched his way outside of the private area he stayed in and rejoined the squad before they departed. He got a friendly good morning from Ines, to which he gave a mutually welcome "Good morning." Although, perhaps the man had been a little quiet for having been up a little longer than her. Either way, he had stepped about to make sure nobody was dead and waited outside after to simply drag behind everyone else. As usual he would take his position as back line guardian, save for the machine gunners, and he intended to remain that way.

The march had been what it had been but Franz was... not looking good. Well, he was looking worse anyway. He tried to remember what Michael told him. His skin seemed a little more pale. The bags on his eyes were more visible and there was a certain... darkness to him. There was something wrapped around him as he felt very little. There was nothing really good about what he felt and what one could see from a surface level, but there was still something that spoke boldly of Franz. Even with the torture within he marched on beat. His back did not break. Despite all they endured he stepped as an elite. Despite it all he maintained his self proper. Although, there was one moment where he seemed to twitch involuntarily for one very brief moment. Immediately after he was back in control, a cigarette in mouth smoothing his movement.

He was fairly quiet, staying in back to monitor their surroundings for any potential ambush. Even as they came to White Hart he was diligent, not trusting the peaceful scene initially as he scanned the area during their little talk. Not much breaking from formation or even talking as he felt a coil around his neck for the moment. There was the intrusive thought of "what if I put my gun in my mouth?" He shrugged it off, feeling that coil tighten, but fail to choke. It slid across to his shoulder and wrapped around the upper arm. He could feel it, but he knew it wasn't there. He said nothing as they approached the inn.

One thing did, however, burst his burdened mind for just a moment. Although, nobody seemed to be looking at the time, he cracked a smile. It was extremely brief and a burst he couldn't control. His eyebrows rose in a twitch and immediately after they fell back into a neutral form. For a moment he could feel again, but that was a bad thing. There was so much he wanted to say. There was too much to say! He could talk for hours with his hero! Green Fox! Wilhelm was here! B-but... but... The squad was here... oh if only they were dead... No... No Franz calm down. Remember what is talking to you.

Franz didn't wish death upon his allies, but they were a massive inconvenience that were getting in the way of him and his beloved sniper. How to deal with this? Well... He took his feelings and he began to badmouth himself. He belittled himself intentionally and tried to suppress emotions. He needed to stay in control, his own happiness be damned... After all, what good was he to Fox?

Even if he spoke with Green Fox what would that change? He was just some federal shit heel that managed to get along this far probably just by luck. There was nothing great about Franz. He was just a useless Darcsen that would never amount to anything. There wasn't anything that he could do to change his fate or that of so many more Darcsen around the world. How did talking to Green Fox change any of that? Use that brain under that dead ocean hair. Even if you had all the time in the world what would it change? Nothing. Remember your place. Remember that you can easily be replaced and if he so chose Wilhelm would simply scrub you off the map.

Franz allowed that coil to tighten. It grew with his own encouragement and it strengthened... As he came closer to Green Fox, he wanted to speak. But as that coil grew stronger it choked him. He couldn't open his mouth. He couldn't battle his own thoughts. Logic dictated that if the squad knew how he really felt... perhaps they would think ill of him. Maybe, even, that he was a potential traitor... Traitor...

Anxiety kicked in. Panic slammed into his heart which began to rapidly punch his rib cage. Although, his face remained neutral as he casually looked past Green Fox as though he didn't exist, there was the pressing question of his origin. He looked like an Imperial. He loved the empire. What if they knew that? How much would they take away from him? Shit! If they realized what he believed and what he loved they would put him in the corner! He would need to be held in sight and restricted! Damn! Damn! Damn! Curse you blasted dogs! Federation be damned! Puppets of their supposed democracy! They would strip his freedom from him because of his love for an empire! Jean! If you realize you will die! Franz! Franz...

The coil strained. It wasn't worth it. Even if they realized and imposed sanctions upon his own actions what did it matter? He was still a Darcsen... And nothing mattered for a Darcsen. Pointless...

Franz settled into the inn and found himself taking a drink with a short salute toward Ines for the drink. He was mostly quiet, still keeping on his hardened look as he tried to calm his thoughts. Although it was becoming more and more apparent that Isaac deserved to get shot in his fat fucking mouth. The boy ought to sleep with an eye open if he expected to wake up tomorrow. There he went with his own self importance bullshit about "we made you the food!" What a damned idiot. SOMEONE has to take up that mantle. It didn't make you any more special for doing what was necessary. In fact, to be so proud and demanding of prestige was sickening. It spoke of a man who likely belonged to be at the bottom as the deities of old could only tell what nonsense this man would bring if he was anything above! Franz would work the field if it was needed. He would work the iron if needed. He would shoot his own fucking people because it was needed but in NO- DAMN- WAY- DID- THAT- MAKE- HIM- SPECIAL!

He nearly cracked his own glass. He needed a break. If he didn't take a break he would have gunned Isaac down right there. Consequences be damned... but he needed to stay alive. He needed to keep his cool. He was barely holding onto it but life made it so that people depended on him. He needed to be around for people waiting for him back home and he needed to be around to see if Amber would ever fucking show up... In truth he still cared for her. He cared still for his squad even if he found himself rather irritable. Partially the sleep, partially the condescending down spiral, partially just the swirl of emotions from that night before. He was beginning to feel it stop. He was beginning to feel detached again.

IF there was any solace from this it was that he could think more clearly while not burdened with thoughts of emotion, but it was somehow awful and worse. Still he felt... eugh... the feel of his environmentally flavored uniform was becoming uncomfortable and as such he wanted out. After enough time he found the baths. Although, he blanked out as he scoured through his backpack to look busy. He just needed a moment to think, really. He heard Ines approaching and finished organizing his stuff before zipping it all up and standing. If he had just sat there doing that all day that would have been pretty suspicious. He could have just taken the bath instead of doing that, but the man wasn't thinking entirely clear. Plus, there would be trying to clean his entire self up and he had no idea if this place had brushes or not. It seemed decent, but just in case he would just attempt to make their lives easier.

Confronting Ines, Franz asked a simple question rather bluntly. "Would you like to take a bath together?"
@Yam I Am

Rainbow Six – Whispers of The Blazing Sky

This is the OP that I have ready. I'd like to answer whatever questions you have here or if you think everything is fine I can just go ahead and start up the thread. This version isn't formatted though so be wary of that.

Thread Opener

Somewhere in a S.A.S. Facility.
0600 Hours.

There was a long flight for some of them, maybe even a bit of a drive with a banter ridden driver spitting back and forth with an operator. One thing was for sure though, this would be the first time these operators were to meet as a team. Formally they might have met and maybe on assignments together in one way or another, but today they were meeting with the S.A.S. Operators from Rainbow Six and their captain.

He was a young man for sure, but he had been a part of the program among other operators. Twenty and four years of age, fully uniformed with gear set and ready. Strapped upon his body was his flak armor attachments. Each piece slid on and tightened with curves designed to redirect some of the explosive with a hard outside to reduce the effectiveness of fragmented death.

"Apollo Hernandez. You don't look like a bloody god to me."

"No sir."

"And you've been put to task with this lot?"

"It's what the captain and Seven wanted, sir."

"Bloody hell. I know he sees something in ya, but for fucks sakes you lot could use a real mentor."

Apollo closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in and exhaling before prying his eyes open. "I think you're aware of what I endured, sir. I want to be here. I've served in disasters. What happened in Houston..."

"I know. Don't let this go all to cock."

"Sir?"

"Nothing. Your mates are here. Go on, give a good show."

As Thatcher moved back to join Smoke, Apollo took his place upon the stage. He took a deep breath. His eyes tracked the recruited Rainbow Seven operators. The Hispanic saw lives with potential. He saw brave men willing to put themselves in danger's way to save the lives of the innocent. Willing to protect vital assets, and trained to be the best. He had no doubt in his mind that if he wasn't here leading this meeting, Hermes would. Rainbow Seven was an experiment, for sure, but without any doubt it was an experiment that would allow team Rainbow to respond to a specific division as well as emergencies as they occurred.

Apollo waited for the group to be seated to begin. A quiet inhale giving him the energy to begin.

"Good morning, gentlemen. My name is Apollo Hernandez. Operator callsign: Flak. I'm sure you know why we're all here. From every corner of the world we look for the best. We look for men and women capable of assessing situations and reacting appropriately. You all bring your own unique talents to our team. I am joined today by two operators from our sibling branch Rainbow Six. Even I was unaware of their existence until recently. I'm sure for those of you who might be fortunate, or perhaps unfortunate, enough to know them you know what they are capable of on a base level. They've served in many flawless operations and are considered some of the best within Rainbow Six. I tell you this to let you know that you are under the supervision of the best. We would accept nothing less and are humbled to be graced with their presence." He had turned briefly to

"I've said plenty already, so I think now is a fine time to introduce yourselves and I encourage it as I want you to consider Rainbow Seven as your new family. You will, of course, be allowed to go home when the all clear is given. So, please, give your callsign and whatever you'd like to tell us from left to right. You don't have to give your name as I have done."

Rainbow Six – Whispers of The Blazing Sky

Here is the character sheet for the character I've created for the RP.

Apollo "Flak" Hernandez

Callsign
Flak

Real Name
Apollo Hernandez

Marital Status
Single

Organization
United States Coast Guard

Specialized Position
Attacker

Birthplace
El Paso, Texas

Date of Birth
June 23rd, 1993

Height
5' 9"

Weight
148lbs (67kg)

Nationality
American

Race
Hispanic

Armor to Speed Rating
2:2
3:1 (Operator gadget equipped)

Operator Gadget
Portable Explosive Ordinance Deflector or PEOD [Pronounced PEE-ODD]
3x Charges

The purpose of the gadget is to greatly reduce the effectiveness of explosives to the operator during engagements. Due to its portable nature it isn't as durable as a dedicated suit and can prevent one fatal explosive charge before being rendered null to the regions affected. Due to its added weight it will slow down the operators who wear this equipment by one speed rank but provide additional ballistic protection. However, due to its design, shots to the protective areas will destroy the gadget with enough damage.

Induction to Rainbow Seven

Inspiration

Apollo is the middle child of seven children within the Hernandez family. He was a happy and proud member of the Coast Guard that loved spending time with his younger brother Hermes until tragedy stuck in Houston where the White Masks launched a surprise attack on the city. The brothers, abandoning their usual Thursday ice cream, took the bold route of engaging the terrorist threat from the flank and chasing the threat into an academic facility. Although, together, they accumulated a score of twelve terrorists it all came to a head when Hermes ran headfirst into a nitro cell trap placed underneath one of the desks used to block the brothers' entrance.

Although Apollo had warned Hermes to wait for reinforcements before pursuing them further, the guilt of not stopping Hermes was overwhelming as more and more of the building came crashing down with explosives breaking apart more and more of the college. It was said that after brutally gunning down the responsible terrorist he knelt and held his brother while being surrounded by debris with tears flowing until the explosives stopped. Apollo was led out by an emergency team an hour later, found holding his brother with tears dried. He was silent, body coated in dust and debris, clutching the air for the body the team had taken from him.

Recruitment

While Seven was collecting data on the attack in Houston, he came across the story of the brothers though military records as their account was barred from publiciation for their privacy. Seeing potential in Apollo, Seven visited the military hospital on a thursday where he found the man eating lime sherbert by himself. Across from his own cup was a melting cup of orange sherbert. Quiet tears of anger and guilt pouring from the man's face as he managed to refrain from crushing his own cup despite showing an emotionally distressed exterior led Seven to his own reinforcement that this man was perfect for recruitment. After speaking with the Admiral and, very briefly, shutting down the Admiral's resistance, Apollo was released from the hospital after recovery and was flown to Nevada where training began in a private facility owned by team Rainbow.

Although he was never told what the facility was for initially, when he was given the offer to join the Rainbow program after its explaination he accepted without hesitation. When Rainbow asked him what kind of project he would like to hand off to R&D he immediately came up with the idea for PEOD and worked hands on with the team to match the specifications desired.

Relationships

Odin Hernandez [Father]
Frigg Hernandez [Mother]

Thor [Eldest Brother]
Baset [Eldest Sister]
Freya [Elder Sister]

Hermes [Younger Brother] [Deceased]
Ares [Younger Brother]
Kratos [Youngest Brother]

Factoids

Apollo's parents loved mythology so much they changed their names from Juan and Marie to Odin and Frigg. They would later use their love for mythology as inpiration.

Apollo's favorite ice cream is lime sherbert. Every thursday he purchases orange sherbert with his own for his brother.

Rainbow Six – Whispers of The Blazing Sky

I've seen the doctor and have gotten some treatment so I'm back to work on the thread. I once again apologize for the long delay and especially for the lack of communication, but I'm able now.

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard ~

Clearing the rooms had been a duty both unpleasant but also sustained through channeling his anger and orders. Room after room they flushed and traded blows with hard fighting men just doing their jobs. By the end of it, Luke and Franz remained victorious using experience and brutal speed to catch the Imperials off guard. Still... a thought kept in his mind the whole way through. Once Luke announced his departure he gave a response. "I'll check to see if we missed anything!"

"Mother... oh mother... I'm sorry... I couldn't keep my promise. They're going to kill me. I need... I can't focus. Cold... I-" A gasp slipped the mouth of the soldier as Franz stepped into his view. The bloodshot eyes of Franz stared into the weak eyes of the a man on the floor beginning to focus. However, even as the adrenaline pumped through the young man, they faded in color. There was no hope in those eyes. There was simply a sad acceptance of his fate as Franz pointed that rifle straight at his head.

The young man thought of his beautiful home. His sacred mother. The flowers upon the hill. That lovely woman who frolicked in the fields of yellow. The fresh bread which nourished his soul as a child at the Hannel Bakery. He joined to protect such things. The children threatened by the possibility of Federal victory. What would become of his home? Was it then best to die here? Would it be enough if he gave one last throw? This war sickened him and his own squad had reluctantly killed in the name of their home. He would disgrace his friends to not die here with his dignity intact. And so... with feeble breath he drew his knife and slowly attempted to stand up. Half way up from his rushed assault and he felt himself falling.

This was it. He couldn't do it. Even as Franz came close he felt his strength failing him. Even as Franz came yet closer he swung, knowing there would be no use in it. However, it would not come.

Arms wrapped around the imperial. Franz kissed the man upon his forehead, touching foreheads with him gently as he spoke. "No, brother. Not yet. Not now. You're too young, too pure. To die now would be a shame. Just relax."

With haste Franz laid the young man down, getting to work on his bleeding wound. It didn't take long for Franz to get to doctoring the wound best he could with the imperial laid back in confusion but not protesting the assistance. The more he looked at Franz, the more he realized that his facial features, his accent, the reasoning behind not killing him was because he was an Imperial as well. But if that was so then why was he fighting for the Federation? What did the Federals do to convince him to fight? Were they holding his family hostage? Was this the only way he could afford to live? And he was... a Darcsen at that.

After patching up his wounds, Franz lead the man into the room that he had fortified and lifted up a body.

"Lay here."

"What?"

"I don't know how much longer we will be here. but you need to lay under this man for now. If they see you then they might kill you or make a prisoner of war. I don't want that for you. The Imperials, do you know which way they came from?"

"I can't te-"

"I know, I just want to make sure you know how to get home." Handing the young man a full pack of Brimstones, Franz stood up and placed an ear near the doorway to ensure none of the squad followed him.

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because, I'm an Imperial like you. We're human. I can't always say the same of the Federation."

"Johannes."

"My pleasure."

"Thank you. I-I thought I was going to die here. Would... would you like to see my girlfriend?"

Franz raised an eyebrow at the proposition, but as the man laid down he crouched down and laid the other body on top of him. The other squirmed a little knowing death was on top of him, but a hand on his shoulder reassured him. As the man laid down with his necklace now pulled out, there was clearly a locket at the end of the strong chain. He opened it, showing Franz a picture. It was of Johannes and a girl of blue eyes and blonde hair. She was taller than him, but she held him all the same. The engraving on the other end reading "Johannes x Erika" It cracked a smile out of Franz, an unusually large one at that. Still, Franz pat the man's shoulder.

"Lucky man. She's beautiful. Erika?"

"Yes, she loves me a lot. She said I was like the brother she never got to meet. We talked more, spent more time with each other, and eventually we came to be. Although, I must ask. What is your name, friend?"

"Forgive me. I am Franz Blau."

The smile on the Imperial lessened for a moment as his eyes widened. Staring into each eye and examining the facial features... they were off but... "Franz?"

By then the soldier force closed the locket and pushed Johannes' head all the way down. He did his best to make Johannes look as dead as possible all while watching the door. "I need to go. They will wonder where I am if I don't report back. Stay low, move as soon as we leave. I'll shoot a bottle before we go to signify our departure. Good luck."

"Franz! Franz!" The soldier spoke with urgency as he tried not to yell. Franz, grabbed what goods he could find. digging through cabinets and even, reluctantly, looting Imperial bodies for smokes and small bits of supplies. He took the least personalized backpack off of one of them, which was luckily blank and standard issue seeming, and stuffed the items inside. It made him sick doing it, honestly, but at least he didn't steal prized personal possessions like Luke did. Still, he needed to seem convincing coming out of the building.

"What?"

"My-my girlfiend! Her name is Erika Blau!"

"And?" Franz asked, moving back with a sigh.

"She said her younger brother that she never met- his name was Franz! He was left behind in Gallia because a man by the name of Henry Hammer stole Emma Blau, your mother, from her home. They tried to save her but it took a long time to plan. They raped your mother, Franz. Your father tried to get you but by the time he killed Henry's friends the Gallian forces showed up. Franz, I found you!" Tears of joy came out of the man's eyes, but then he remembered what side Franz was on. The Darcsen's eyes were shaking, hands dropping the backpack briefly as he felt his body pulse with confusion.

The joy of Johannes seemed to turn into a tragic gaze as he realized what this all meant. "Franz... why are you fighting for the Federation?"

"I- I-" He went silent, shame coating his body as he felt a swirl of emotions. He held his mouth, tears pushing out uncontrollably before he grit his teeth and forced Johannes' eyes closed. "Stay alive. I'm sorry."

"Franz... Not like this..."

---

After composing himself and getting rid of what evidence there was, he walked back out to join the group. He had ensured Johannes' locket was well hidden. Erika's face was engraved into his memory. So much wanted to break free, but even in his strained state he held his emotions back perfectly. It was a dam ready to burst, but the cracks were barely visible on the outside.

"I got us some beer, cigarettes, food. I double checked every room. There are no signs of Imperial life. We're safe." He would announce to the group. And, as promised, as soon as they were for sure going to leave, Franz would place a bottle near the building to shoot on the way out.

In the meantime, however, he placed the backpack near the group and took a beer out to drink. He didn't care if Jean protested, he was drinking this beer for Johannes' sake... and especially for Erika's. It wouldn't be enough to get him drunk anyway.

Then Britta approached him. She was a pretty silver hair, but with what he had just done and had on his mind he couldn't say that he felt much of anything. At the moment he felt rather numb as he suppressed his emotions. To her question he simply looked at her with the neutral expression he wore coming out and nodded.

"I'm fine. I would worry more about the rest of the squad. They're not as accustom to a life of battle as I am. How are you holding up? Cigarette?"

He asked, pulling out a pack of Brimstones and looking out into the distance, trying to focus. He wanted to say something. He wanted to scream in agony. He needed to do something other than bottle up how he felt and shove it further and further down. But that's all he could do. He was an Imperial Darcsen tainted with Gallian blood. He was fighting against his own people. And now he knew he had family on the other side... when it came to protecting his friends who he couldn't even fucking find and the family that was on the other side of the border he chose his fucking friends. Great.

@FalloutJack

Rainbow Six – Whispers of The Blazing Sky

Well I thank you folk for being patient as you have been. To highlight exactly what illness it is that is getting in the way it has to do with my breathing. It more or less leaves me exhausted so I haven't been able to do a whole lot especially at the moment. I'm scheduled to see a doctor soon, but I apologize for the massive delays. Body is just really not working with me as much as I'd like. Thoughts aren't as fluid as I'd like and while I'm still making attempts to post, I know it's been harder to think on creative things with this whole breathing thing occupying space in my mind.

If I get the energy and thought to I'll continue working on the OP but hopefully we can get started around the time I see the doctor. If you'd question why not a hospital, I'd like to point out that the United States is not exactly the beacon for healthcare even with insurance.

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard ~

You... You useless bastard! Darcsen or not a foot would have been up his ass if he wasn't his superior! Dammit!

There was an opprotunitity for a small flank team. Jean had the proper ranks to divide the squad and with street crawlers like Franz and Ines they could have survived on their own. And more than Jean he felt he knew more. Who had studied the empire? Who adored them? Who was the one that even knew who Green Fox was while these pathetic bastards pushed ever so slowly worrying for their damned lives in the urban area? This was ideal for war, but here their precious leader was proving to be nothing more than a puppet unwilling to do anything but play this as safe as possible! At this rate he would get them surrounded and killed!

No- No Franz wait...

While he was certainly confident in his own ability Franz at least understood that this was about the whole of the group. Maybe Jean thought he was stupid enough to charge it from the front or without getting some kind of vantage point. To assume that of Franz, at least, would be wrong. After all, you didn't survive and escape professionals without understanding you don't charge the wave of guns aiming at you. They would have had to move fast and repositioned but what was new? Well, a machine gun he supposed. Although Franz was more than willing to simply ignore that call he had to remember that there was more to the squad. In that brief moment he remembered what all the rest of the squad was made of.

Franz took great displeasure in the truth of the situation. They would have to endure the armored car. That was just it. With it out of the way they could have moved around easier but within the building they still had a lot of ground to work with. The machine gun wouldn't be able to track them unless they allowed it to and even then shooting while progressing further up from the ground level was going to be easily a losing proposition as long as they kept out of its range and sight. At least he would be going with Ine-

"-go with Luke"

You've got to be fucking kidding.

"Come on, Swine, with me!" Franz ordered to Luke, busting through the center and blasting an imperial in hiding, feeling the bullet whizz by his head after leaning just out of its range. Pushing down those thoughts of his own demise he felt the beast within trigger from the near death experience, blood filling his eyes as he vaulted over a table and slammed it down into a covering position. With that he vaulted over the counter and landed on top of an Imperial hiding behind it. The larger man would dive onto Franz, diving his knife right in front of his neck.

If Luke helped that would save him the trouble, but if not he would simply reverse the stab and kick the man off, stabbing him in the neck for his troubles and adding a shot to his heart to end the misery. Standing up he would rush to the next room with a kick with gun raised as he kicked over a table and took cover. "Luke! To the left!"

Franz took aim at one at back of that room, noticing the man by the window to be a shocktrooper and grabbing Luke to pull him down before the hail of bullets rained upon them. Crawling on the floor behind the table he peaked out and fired a shot, missing the first and rolling back to avoid rifle fire. "Alright, that's it!" Crouching up he used the splintering table as a bipod as he took in a deep breath and rattled the bones of the shocktrooper in the back, acknowledging it briefly before snapping attention to the scout and firing one into his chest.

From Franz's count there were still four on the left and two heading right from the back laying down suppression fire as they moved. He would help Luke by covering for him. Briefly before laying down to reload. "Got some Imps on the left!" Still, this wouldn't last. At the rate those imperials were charging them they would be dead by the next minute. Time to get risky.

He ran out of cover as soon as he heard the firing slow down on Luke's side and kept low as he hip fired at the charging soldiers to get them to stop. It was risky as hell to do it to the shock trooper and rifleman, but there wasn't any time to consider it as he got the rifleman to back off for a moment. With bayonet attached he smacked the shock trooper's gun down and brought his gun up with a charge, tossing his opponent against the wall with an abrupt stop. He fell to a knee and threw his spare knife into the rifleman's chest, watching the man shout in pain and aiming his rifle at the vulnerable man before rolling back at the incoming cover fire. Worst yet the shock trooper was back up and spraying at him while he scrambled for the wall.

It worked at least, they weren't being pressured on all sides with their attentions evenly split between Luke and Franz. He kept moving, nearly being stabbed by an Imperial tending to himself before getting a stock to the mouth. Franz used the man as a shield sticking close to the ground with gun pointed right at the shock-trooper. "Put the gun down! Put it down right fucking n- shit!" He took a deep breath as the shock trooper charged him and fired above his head in an attempt to scare him. It took just a millisecond more to get Franz to exhale with a shot to the chest. Watching the soldier fall he turned his attention to the rifleman pushing toward him with the other rifleman from Luke's end joining him for a pincer.

He breathed steadily, standing with the wounded man in one arm and his gun aiming at the closest one to his right. "Put it down! Do you hear me? Another step and I'm sending you to your mother in a coffin!"

"You heard him! Put it down!" The one on the left at least seemed to cooperate, moving down to put his gun down before throwing the knife Franz had planted into him at Franz's foot which distracted him long enough to get slammed off. Once more he was grappling on the ground but this time he was fucking pissed. His facial expressions became wild and his throat seemed to want to rip at the monstrous roar he unleashed. With one punch he dislocated the jaw of the man on him and using that brief moment of shock he planted a solid round into the remaining soldier on his end.

If Luke hadn't finished with his end yet Franz would rush them, fired up and focused on killing.

After the brief threat had been taken care of Franz quickly grabbed furniture and relocated them to windows. "We leave these windows exposed and they're going to slaughter us! Report that we've got this room secure!" He shouted, ducking as a flurry of gunfire sprayed in his direction. He took the moment to lite a cigarette, puffing out a cloud before offering one to his breaching ally.

"If you want a smoke you take it now." Franz planned how to take on the next room, collecting and cleaning his knife before taking off the bayonet and returning it to its rightful place. It was just like he thought. The rooms would only get tighter from here and they'd need those melee weapons. It hadn't even crossed his mind just what he accomplished much more than threat being stopped. Once the windows were secure, he would regroup with Luke, making sure his gun was loaded and ready.

"These men were green! Take what ammo you can from the bodies! These shocks are going to tear us to shreds if we let them, check our backs as we push up or we are dead! Take a moment to gather yourself if you need to!" He ordered, couching by the window to keep an eye on Imperial movement.

Despite being pretty angry, he was rather comfortable. He made a few mistakes earlier but he was learning. He could approach the problem better next time. Fact was that he was formulating how to attack that scenario and worse with memories of the past combining with his newfound experience. It all seemed to click together, honestly. Still, was the rest of the squad going to be alright? Michael... dammit... Once they were safe he'd take care of Michael

Course there was Ines... She'd be fine. If that display earlier where she nearly took Luke's head off was any indication, as well as that blood lust, then she would be perfectly fine. He tapped his foot for a moment and sighed, knowing there were more ahead. With a pat on Luke's shoulder he pressed on. "I'll take point."

@Jacky

Rainbow Six – Whispers of The Blazing Sky

@Lucky

Just writing the OP. Decided the last one wasn't to my tastes. Aside from that everything else is done. Been a little sick as well so I've taken a couple days to just rest and catch up elsewhere for a moment.

~ Valkyria Chronicles - Changing of the Guard ~

She earned a curve of the corner of his lips. Watching her effortlessly throw his gift was all fun and dandy, but what she held in return wasn't something he had ever had. But what could be better than Brimstone? Most other cigarettes were quite fine for what they provided. Nothing matched the smokey taste of Brimstone, however. The strong and sleek flavor cruising through the internals like blood through the vein. Now that's smooth.

Still, thinking of commercials and his own personal experience aside, he was ready to accept the gift. He offered no resistance and found this woman to be quite charming. "Like you Francians say. Touché."

He looked to Luke as he made his comment, remembering what would likely happen if he snapped his neck right here and chose to refrain from a firing squad. Still, he had heard it all before. He gave the boy a glare and pressed on. He would have stopped to watch if Ines tried to do anything, assisting her if Luke somehow got something of an upper hand but it seemed like Jean acted first...

He would give a phase to Ines before moving up, likely before she would go to stomp his neck in. "The lion does not concern himself with the opinions of mice."

As they pressed into the city he couldn't help but gain a grin. The rain and it was harder than before. Absolutely lovely. He loved the rain very much so. In the urban battlefield he felt right at home. It was a little more Francian than he hoped for, but it would do. He remembered a heist in Francia once. Markus and the eldest of the gang. They all walked away with a pretty set of jewels and a few bullets in Markus. He was lucky according to the doctor but the gems paid for the surgery. Just barely. It was because of stuff like that that his gang boss wasn't keen on armed heists in certain urban locations. Sure there were a lot of places to run to, but he got unlucky with experts on the city. They were easier to pull off in some parts of the Federation... Which reminded him... There was something about Markus wanting to rob a place in Edinburgh. How was that going?

Shifting his focus to the rest of the city he took in the damage and listening to the ramblings of Jean and the Captain. He felt confident. For the first time in this war he truly felt in his element. The urban environment was exactly what he needed. The rain? Even better. Now with the knowledge of what it felt like to kill? Oh this was going to be a breeze.

"But the Imperials have mastered it better than everyone."?

He felt a surge of pride. Of course they did. The Imperials were the best in urban war. No amount of Federal circle jerking was going to dig Middleton's sorry ass out of the ambush of the imperial shock trooper elite. Probably why they ordered the coward to stay behind assuming he wasn't making it up for himself out of his pathetic requests. Who needed a pretty boy war hero anyway?

Franz wasn't just happy, he was devilishly grinning. His nightmares, his fears, his pain, they melted away knowing they would be fighting in the city. He had had his firefights before and now that he was given the order to kill this would be easy. Still, he shouldn't get too carried away. These weren't the Federation's police officers. Imperial blood actually meant something.

He didn't approve of the long weapons in close quarter buildings. You'd have to be a fool not to use a knife. You could quickly respond to a threat around the corner with a knife. A long blade took too much time and was clunky to use. However, if there was a second knife he would gladly take it.

The progression was as simple as he figured and a bit inefficient if you asked him, however, the engagement triggered his instincts and he took cover as he felt danger rear itself. The bullets were a real threat and the emerging soldiers also grabbed his attention. His face went mostly neutral as he took a hold of his weapon and took a breath in. He traced his first target, trailing him but a millisecond after and firing to drop that one. He shifted slightly and fired again, moving immediately after to avoid getting bogged down. It was coming from all directions but so had those cops in the past. He imagined Markus with him, telling him that "this wasn't shit."

Then he spotted that moving death machine. With a round or two in it he noticed it didn't do anything. What it had done to the men was turn them into minced meat and he wasn't ready for that just yet. He shifted position yet again, taking a pot shot at an Imperial and moving immediately after with swiftness. This felt a lot different than that trench and he was oddly happy. He should have felt awful, but the feeling of getting shot at in the city was thrilling. It slammed into his nostalgia and awoken a high he wasn't aware existed. While he fought in his beloved rain. Visibility was poor due to the heavy cloudy rain without question. The only thing he had to fear was Green Fox, but he read that book. Surely he would be fine. This was a fight they could take! Not from the front all he needed was Jean to-? Jean? Jean! Ordering a retreat into the building now? This was a little early they- fuck!

He understood the call but it was out of fear. "Jean! Let me take care of that car! Hold strong with the squad! Urban combat is nothing new to me!" With or without that order approved he would handle this. He needed someone with brass to work with. He needed an anchor... who?

"Ines!" Franz kept close to Ines, seeming oddly calm as he spoke with her. "We need to flank that gun, can I count on you?"

@LetMeDoStuff@Yam I Am

~ 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.