cpldingo

Torn Across the Rift

Echo 4 delta holding firm, awaiting further orders

How copy?

Torn Across the Rift

Wolfe and Hirsch followed Icarus in tow. He hasn't said anything, but communicated fairly well, that, or the two marines are just accustomed to using hand and arm signals, especially when they had to leave the wire at night and had to remain silent. Well as silent as one could in a country filled with trash and dogs that bark at the slightest movement. Wolfe took pride in the fact that his fire team was usually nominated for any sort of quasi-covert ops while on deployment.

Wolfe spends most of his free time reading war manuals written by U.S. army or Marine personnel, as well as books dealing with ancient battles and civilizations- his knowledge of the enemy, force on force, and tactical appraisal is bar none.

"War hasn't really changed in the last five thousand years," Wolfe would remark, "just the methodology has changed. Sure weapons and tactics have evolved, but the logistical issues when moving a large force remains the same. Any and all issues dealing with morale, leadership traits, the fog of war, and the enemy and their patterns.... Hasn't changed since man first fought man in scale."

But now however, Wolfe wasn't so sure. Sure history has had its fair share of covert missions, spies, and proxy wars... But... To keep this kind of secret war so well hidden from the locals, let alone everyone on the planet, blew Wolfes mind, and shattered what he thought he knew about the history of war. Given the weaponry he had seen in the armory, maybe he didn't know as much as he gave himself credit for. With the existence of magic Wolfe will have to re-evaluate the essence of warfare. Adapt and overcome, he thought to himself.

Icarus began handing the marines weapons and gear. He placed a pair of black gauntlets on, and began placing pistols into holsters, knives into his boots, slung a couple of rifles. The first appeared to be a standard FAMAS French made automatic rifle in a bullpup design (magazine inserted behind trigger assembly) and an older style bolt action rifle, possibly a Remington .308. Icarus grabbed a large rather imposing knife, he tossed it in the air and grabbed it by the blade, and he handed it over to Hirsch via hilt first.

With a big stupid grin he gladly accepted the knife, then the sheath, and attached it to his belt. Hirsch was then handed an antique Colt .45 with runed markings on the grip. Hirsch was elated. He gleefully accepted the pistol.

"Ohmygodshessopretty!!" he remarked fast, pulling back on the slide three times, each time letting the slide snap forward, then squeezing the trigger, a functions test.

"Her name shall be Sheri," he said softly, lovingly, and then gingerly holstered his new favorite pistol.
Hirsch was then handed a set of bracers, and what he had at first thought was a medieval breast plate. Further inspection showed that to not be the case. The armor, felt like steel, but weighed even less than his flak jacket. There were interlocking plates that allowed for free range of motion. As if someone made a special polymer armor, designed for the body coverage of a knight, but the operational integrity of a modern warfighter.

"Bro...First this gun, now this bad ass armor? Dude...you’re like...the scary Russian version of Santa!" he exclaimed. Only to be punched in the arm by Wolfe, the punch hurt Wolfe, he had used his bandaged hand to punch Hirsch.

"He ain't Russian you stooge! At least I don't think he is..."Icarus walked to Wolfe and placed a Wolf shaped badge on his shoulder. Wolfe could swear he saw a smile in the man's eyes.

"Awesome, thanks," he chuckled. Wolfe genuinely liked the badge, "this is so going on my armor" he said before he was handed his own set of bracers and armor, same as Hirsch's. What got Wolfe however, was what he was handed next.

It was a rifle, quiet large, at first Wolfe thought it to be the standard issue M40A1 that is usually issued to Marine Corps snipers. Upon further inspection it couldn’t be further from the truth, in all actuality the weapon seemed, old, very old. Steampunk came to mind. He shouldered the rifle and aimed down the scope, fairly standard, but the cross hairs were odd, something he wasn’t used to. The weapon had a good weight to it, and even though it looked a bit awkward, the balance was perfect. Confused though, Wolfe could not tell where any ammunition was to go, or any bolt to prime a round… damn magic weapons he thought, but he was grateful for the opportunity.

Icarus then motioned for them to follow him, to a shooting a range. Both marines were excited to test out new weaponry, especially one as interesting as this rifle. That is until Dzel came up to them-

"Oh, there you are…” She was much shorter than all three of them, and looked over the trio with curiosity before looking up at their faces questioningly. “What are you guys up to?”
Icarus pointed ahead, made the classic ‘gun hand’ shape and mimed shooting it off a few times. Then pointed the gun-hand at Dzel, pausing, then opening the hand toward her, and gestured in the direction they were going. An invitation.

“You mean the gun range? No, thank you. I was looking for Wolfe actually. Tristan wants to see him.”
Icarus shrugged, dropping his hands and beckoning for Hirsch to keep following him. He clapped Wolfe on the shoulder and continued down the hallway. Icarus looked back over his shoulder at the two with his black eyes. He smiled. Then kept walking on.

Dzel turned to Wolfe “I’ll walk you to his office. Sorry, I bet you were looking forward to that. They can give you access to the shooting range later, I’m sure.”

“Not a problem, I’m adaptable,” he replied. He motioned her forward, “Lead on ma’am.”

They walked in silence for the most part until they reached the office in question. The secretary waved them in. A man sat at the desk. He seemed battle hardy, as if he spent some time in the suck. At the same time, looks like office life has gotten to him, a nice tan, hands seemed like they haven’t seen any hard labor in a while. But his awkwardness proved to Wolfe he was meant for the field not the office.

He noticed Natasha as well, the attractive red head sat, with her arms folded, she seemed pissed. Wolfe gave her a small private smile and a polite nod, he didn’t mean to, but unintentionally looked at the cleavage that was apparent. Last time Wolfe had seen Natasha she was in full gear and winter garb, what with being on top of a mountain in snowy Russia, now she sat in tighter fit more practical clothing for indoors. She had a nice figure. Wolfe had to shake the image, it had been awhile since he had been engaged in antics with the opposite sex. Wolfe spent most of his time trying to stay productive… Hirsch was the man whore.

“Corporal Wolfe reporting as a requested,” He said to Tristan. Wolfe assumed a modified position of parade rest. Granted this guy wasn’t a military officer, but Wolfe is a creature of protocol, and in any other normal situation this is almost exactly how he would act if his superiors called him to their office, of course he would have been at the position of attention, but he figured the standards were a bit more lax in his current environment.

Torn Across the Rift

Sweet!
Nice update @eyeris

I'll be getting a post in soon.

Torn Across the Rift

Wolfe was amazed by the types of weapons he found within the armory. After a moment of thought he guessed he shouldn’t be too surprised. There were a fair amount of fire arms. Carbines, long rifles, shot guns, sum machine guns, regular machine guns. That was all well and fine for the two marines, it was the other weaponry that caught their attention.
Swords, axes, pikes, lances the whole nine yards. Some were normal melee weapons, other seem to be more. A lot had intricate designs and scripts, possibly enchantments or wards. After a while Icarus showed up, seemingly popped outta nowhere. No real words were exchanged aside from a simple nod to each other.
After a while he began roaming the armory checking out the work done by both Hirsch and Wolfe.
Wolfe noticed the tattoos, at first thought it was his mind playing tricks on him, but his peripheral vision is outstanding and after a few minutes he knew that those tattoos moved when not directly stared at. When Icarus moved further away from the group Hirsch piped up.

“Dude…what’s up with comrade Boris’s tattoos?” He asked Hirsch.
“I don’t think he’s Russian, Joe.” Wolf chuckled. “But I know what you mean, if you don’t look directly at them, they seem to move.” He replied.
Hirsch then began to try and not look at Icarus, but kept looking directly at him.

“Son of a bitch this is harder that it looks.” He sighed.
Wolfe looked toward Icarus as he walked by, “How’s everything looking?” He asked.

Torn Across the Rift

Well Wolfe doesn't drink, clouds his instincts. Hirsch drinks, like a fish, can put the entire Scottish army to shame.

Torn Across the Rift

Landscapes of red, the color of blood. The smell of brimstone, the heat of liquid magma, suffocating.
No air.

Claws slashed at his naked body, causing him to recoil in pain.

Teeth snapped and gnashed at him, nipping and tearing into soft flesh, toying with him.

He grunted, screamed, more in anger, and defiance rather than pain.
When he opened his eyes he saw a black form in front of him, large, imposing; in a fluid motion an appendage, resembling a savage spear jutted into his chest, where his heart was housed.

With a sharp inhale Wolfe sat up in his rack. He was sweating profusely and panting heavily, he clutched at his chest. The pain still very real in his mind. He sat there gritting his teeth in pain, and slowly, very slowly opened his eyes. The more they focused the more the pain went away. Within a minute Wolfe was aware of where he was. In his rack, in his quarters, at the secret base of M.E.R.C.Y\Trident.

He glanced at the clock: 0607. Taking a few deep breathes, he tried to slow his shaking. He swung his legs over and sat up, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Fuck it, not going back to sleep now…”

Getting up he put on a pair of sweats, and slipped on his flip flops, grabbed a towel, and his bag full of hygiene supplies and headed for the bathroom. Wolfe was glad the showers had good pressure and heat, all too often he gets stuck taking cold showers….or none at all for months on a time. After the shower he made sure to shave and then made his way back to his room. The room was sparse, a rack, a nightstand, a small desk and a chair, and his wall locker.

Wolfe put on pair of black BDU trousers, and a black T-shirt. He wanted to work out some, but the base doctor ordered him on light duty due to his hand injury he sustained last time in the field. His had was properly bandaged and was healing nice. Trident has some kind of gelatin that speeds up the healing process. A wound that would take weeks to recover from would simply take a matter of days…. Of course it has its limits. Hirsch was in the same boat.

After getting something to eat he decided to head over to the base Armory. He hadn’t had the proper time to clean his weapon from the last field op. Wolfe also wanted to get a good idea at what kind of hardware this place has. Always good to keep his options open.

He made his way down a level and through a large steel door. A man sat at a desk in a small room to his left. The window covered in chicken wire, standard armory procedure.
After getting cleared Wolfe walked in.

“Hey man!” It was Hirsch, looks like he had the same idea, he had his SAW already stripped and was cleaning the guide rod on the weapon.

“What’s up, you’re up early.”

“Yea, hand was hurting couldn’t sleep, doc gave me some of that special spooge and it feels better now.” He said with a shrug. Wolfe chuckled.

They made small talk, joked around, the normal things two marines do when conducting tedious work, though Wolfe didn’t mind cleaning his weapon, it was therapeutic to him. After a few hours their weapons were cleaned and put back. They then decided to inspect the other weapons in the armory.

“Look at this shit…” Hirsch said running his finger around the chamber of an assault rifle, black carbon stained his finger.

“Shits dirtier than the Army’s weapons…” he remarked.
For the next six hours the two marines cleaned all the weapons in the armory.

Torn Across the Rift

Yea where are my guys at?

what has the avatar above you been put in jail for and why?

Jailed for sexually assaulting cheesecake

Describe your favourite game in a nutshell

DOOM

Rip and Tear

Until it is done.

Why I am against the criminalization of the KKK - and why you should be too.

<Snipped quote by cpldingo>

I suppose this means I should start assaulting people I disagree with, because I'm a twat, right?

That said, you are correct somewhat, as it doesn't free you from the consequence of their speech, but lets be fair, what does the KKK care about that? Or Hamas sympathizers? Not a single fuck. So this is a pointless argument I think.

@Buddha

Or Christian conservatives getting assaulted for staging a right to life protest.
Or being assaulted for identifying with a certain ideology, it doesn't just stop with those on the extremes of both aisles.
My main point was, if your going to stage a movement or whatever, and your going to do it in an area where you will meet opposition....maybe back your 1st up with your 2nd.

There will always be "twats" both progressive and not, and all other facets to social stigmas.

This comes down to standing your ground against mob rule.