Dusty

Rainbow Six Siege: The New Team

I'll make a character, I was thinking I'd make a Russian, a KGB agent most likely with a grenadier skill. I'll have him posted up sometime tonight.

Miraculous America

@Rockin Strings Are Talon and Serpentine currently being attacked by Mr. Johnson's minions? It wasn't very clear in your post.

Miraculous America

“That’s very kind of you, but I really don’t live that far from here.” Serpentine said between her teeth. Now that they were just walking and not fighting a supervillain she was starting to feel a little self-conscious in her suit. They were drawing some attention from other pedestrians, a few of which commented on how, “It ain’t Halloween yet y’all.” Luckily they were few and far between and Serpentine only had to grin sheepishly at a few people as they passed.

Talon didn’t seemed concerned with her slight objections, and began fumbling for something to talk about. What put Serpentine to pause was his suggestion that they should show each other their secret identities. “My Kwami said I should never tell anyone my secret identity…” Serpentine didn’t really sound convinced at her own words. She was surprised that Talon would bring this up now, she’d been thinking about it herself only moments before after all. How harmful could it be to tell him? She couldn’t deny that she was painfully curious to know who the boy behind the mask was. And Furitta’s too for that matter. Still, she’d only had a secret identity for little more than thirty minutes, and it seemed a bit too fast to be giving up that secret so soon.

Just then Talon’s weapon began signaling an incoming call, and Serpentine raised an eyebrow at the convenience of the tool. Her own battle fans must have that feature as well, and sure enough moments later her left fan began beeping, but she ignored it for the moment looking around Talon’s shoulder to talk to Furitta. “I’m here too Furitta? What’s the issue, did another bad guy spring up already?”

The Ordinary Mythical Academy

I'd like to try an RP like this. I'll get to work on my character, though I can't make any promises on when she'll be done.

Intergalactic Space Adventurers- [ISA]

The fact that he was now very obviously locked inside the Ranger did more to phase Jean Wylder than being surrounded by a pack of hungry Coyslugs. As the hydraulic metal plates sealed the only two possible exits his hand went instinctively for his pistol and the weapon was drawn and raised almost before the mechanisms hissed securely into place. Spitting out his cigarette Jean took a moment to calm down glancing between the door and porthole a few times to mentally process what’d just occurred.

“Ah shit, of course they ‘ave a secured office, why in th’ hell wouldn’t they. Makes sense right ya untrusting piss-bags. Lock me in 'ere will ya. First drugged, then locked in a office library. It ain't my fucking week now is it.” Jean angrily shoved his pistol away and stalked over to the viewing port trying it with his knife blade. No amount of leveraging could even push the long blade in-between the durasteel plating making escape essentially impossible. Unless he had a magma-eleven level blow torch and ten hours to make the necessary cuts. Neither of which he possessed. Returning to his chair Jean picked up his abandoned book beating out a rhythmic tattoo on the hardback cover. Obviously he’d been made. They’d either sniffed him out as a known sheriff or strongly suspected he was an undercover cop, neither of which bode well for Jean. Hardened criminals might’ve just killed him on the spot, so he was lucky in that regard. He had space to fight to the last at least even if it is a short battle, as there wasn’t much potential for epic last stands in the cramped office space. Of course there was always the chance they were testing him, trying to sweat out a confession by keeping him locked up for a few hours. What better way of rooting out bad business partners or sting operatives then putting them under a strenuous amount of pressure? Jean really didn’t have any way of knowing for sure until Mac or someone else returned, and at that point it could be with open arms or a gun set to kill. Sighing Jean reopened the book, briefly scanning over the words. There was only one tried and tested way of finding out, and that was sitting pretty with a smile on his face and one hand on his pistol grip.

Of course Jean didn’t even consider the one thing that did happen.

After several long minutes the sealed door slid back and Mac returned accompanying a young women who Jean could only assume was Ursa Cooper. For the longest time he stared uncomfortably back at her, making sure to close the book he’d been reading and set it on the desk. Normally she might've been very pretty, with her black hair and pale features, but at the moment she looked as if she’d just been through a rough day. Jean's sore hand twinged and he smiled in despite of himself. He could relate all too well. But what was off was the way she was staring at him, sounding almost flustered… Not what Jean had been expecting at all.

“Howdy y'all.” Jean replied at last, slightly unsure of how to respond to this development. Mac and Ursa whispered something to each other that Jean couldn't hear. Jean still suspected weapons would be drawn at any moment and stayed tensed up. Nevertheless he put on his best relaxed act, touching the brim of his hat and standing up to introduce himself. “Th’ name’s Jean Wylder, I was here to talk business… Are ya alright miz Cooper? Pardon my sayin’, but ya look a little roughed up.”

Life After- A Sorta Nation Prepping RP

The local governance had decided that in times of nationwide crisis and martial law the best way to achieve stability was by keeping life going as normally as possible. After all, besides a slightly frostier atmosphere each morning the Republic of Texas had suffered no true calamities over the last couple weeks. Many of its citizens counted themselves lucky to live within the Texan borders and worked doubly hard to ensure their fellow Americans on the Western coast would have a still prosperous neighbor to prop them up in their time of need. Of course it wasn’t like Texans weren’t feeling the weight of international disaster and mass movements of refugees from the west. Still, despite economic hardships, geopolitical strife, and global panic the people of Texas, or at least those in San Antonio area, attempted to go about their daily lives in a somewhat normal fashion. At least to what degree it was possible. Stores remained open, public transport ran smoothly, and traffic was monstrous as usual.

One of the first and most important things determined by the city council was that public schools needed to remain open and safe. What better way of ensuring normality than to have children attending school on scheduled hours. It was because of this decision after a weeklong break Tonya found herself back in her small middle school in lower New Braunfels ploughing through the repetitive motions of day to day classroom life. Of course if normality was the goal the instruction provided on that first day of reopening seemed oddly counterintuitive in Tonya’s humble opinion. The assembled students were grilled on personal safety and how to contact emergency services among other childish safety lessons for hour after hour. It wasn’t like every kid didn’t know not to play with fire, or how to dial nine-one-one on their cell phone. The simplistic foolishness of it all amused Tonya at first, but she quickly grew bored as each period usually devoted to math, science, and reading was instead filled with nonstop risk management rhetoric that could bore the ears off any normal child. Not that the normal school day was any more entertaining. What didn’t help was Tonya’s eccentric uncle had been teaching her much more interesting and useful things at home, like how to shoot a gun, skin a rabbit, and sanitize water. He’d been getting the odd tips from a radio show he listened too, and they’d proved to be vastly more entertaining than learning to hide in a bathtub should a tornado pass through. Tonya found herself glancing down at her new watch Eric had bought her with increasing frequency urging the slogging time to go faster.

The hour finally reached three O’clock, leaving only thirty minutes left before the bell released the students to return home. That’s when the first tremor struck.

Everyone felt the strange rumble, so uncommon in that state hardly anybody fully understood the gravity of the situation. Tonya heard a slight whimper behind her. Frowning she turned to see a girl about the same age as her looking very pale, and clutching at the side of her desk looking almost like she was praying. Tonya didn’t know much about her other than her name was Bianca and a few months ago she’d moved here from California. Right around the same time Tonya moved down from Montana actually.

“Was that you?” Tonya whispered, the teacher kept droning on about fire hydrants seemingly unconcerned now that the tiny tremor vanished as suddenly as it had come. Tonya kept her voice low as she inquired of Bianca. “What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t you feel it?”

“What do you mean?”

Then the second tremor struck.

The floor shook and trembled as if the very building had begun dancing to a merry tune. The walls splintered a cracked, the great granite stones crumbling to dust under the immense foreign pressure as an enormous earthquake shook the entire city to its core. Students screamed in panic and the teacher yelled something incoherent as the lights flashed on and off. Tonya had time to watch Bianca duck down low on the floor before the lights went out completely. The only light came from the now shattered windows, out of which some panicked individuals jumped. Deciding to copy Bianca’s actions Tonya crammed herself under her small desk cowering beneath the pitiful cover just as the roof and walls gave way completely, plunging Tonya into total darkness.

Thy Fearful Symmetry [Lovecraftian WW2 Battle of Britain RP]

I was genuinely disappointed when this never took off, no pun intended. @BingtheWing Any chance to work some necromancy on this RP?

Wrath of Darkness

Anselmo Date: 2353-08-14
Location: The Wild World, Outpost ZT-141, ‘Treehouse’

Suspended high in the treetops like some great dangling weights were the four QRTVs assigned to Corporal Andy Tabbet and team KV-73. They were hung by thick chains and steel cranes between the wooden platforms which were bolted deep into a multitude of the massive trees. The entire contraption felt far too complicated to Corporal Tabbet, as if the engineers behind it were overly concerned with a catastrophic failure and overcompensated to an unholy degree. It seemed to be the only metal part of the Treehouse, and even this small rigging weighed so much it sagged the nearby trees to an alarming degree. Without any hesitation Andy stepped between the wooden platform and metal rigging joining her lead QRTV to hang in space over the forest floor. A slight two foot gap separated the treehouse from the vehicle, but Andy traversed it without even glancing downwards towards the dizzying drop below. She’d done it three times before after all.

Navigating the narrow space on the suspended metal platform Andy wove her way around the QRTV doing the final inspection of the vehicle and all its functions. From the turret to the engine and everything in-between. She performed the rudimentary and dull inspection with considerably less annoyance then she normally would have, Andy was practically humming as she topped off the engine oil. For the first time she’d been selected to join an elite team of Rangers and journey well beyond the wall and surrounding outposts. Potentially deep into the wild lands. But not only that, Corporal Tabbet had been given direct command over three other motor operators within Commander Cross’ team. The opportunity was monumental for a young NCO and Andy strongly suspected she’d receive her sergeant chevrons upon her return to Anselmo.

Concluding her final checkup Andy joined her three operator subordinates on the wooden platform checking over their inspection sheets and ensuring everything was to satisfaction. Unlike the typical worn out gear provided to low grade operators back at Anselmo these vehicles were almost brand new, fresh off the assembly line. In fact, Andy was pretty sure besides a few test drives the trip to the Treehouse had been their first real journey. And now, she thought as she made her way across to where Commander Cross and the rest of the team were assembling, They’re about to make their first mission into the wild lands, just like me. Coming to a stop in the back row of the gathered men and women Corporal Tabbet didn’t bother introducing herself to Commander Cross, having already become acquainted with the Team’s leader in her week long stay at the Treehouse. She’d arrived early with the trucks and the other operators which gave her a slight edge on the need-to-know basis of the mission, and the Event.

Despite having seen it six times before the Event never ceased to make Andy jump, shrink back and cover her ears. Such awesome power spoke wonders of the world they lived in, and most people would only tremble at the sight, unnerved and nonplused and hoping it never got any nearer. But not Team KV-73, or at least Andy hoped not, because they were heading straight towards it!

The powerful residue of such a massive surge stirred her short hair as she slipped past the new arrivals, coughing politely to get Jake Cross’ attention. “Commander Cross sir, the trucks are prepped and ready to be offloaded to the forest floor, whenever you give the command. We can be rolling out within an hour. Also truck three had extra fuel staged in its trailer, with the chow supplies shifted into the under-hull compartment of truck one, and I removed the inflatable jacket capacity to provide adequate space. It should give us two extra days of fuel time at the least. I gave the order for the change to be made, I didn’t think we’d be crossing any lakes according to the scouting reports, and we needed very last drop of fuel we could get. Anyway I need you to sign the release form for the quartermaster to confirm our trip ticket. There has to be an officer’s signature just in case we all die due to drowning, so he doesn’t get negative paperwork for improper equipment distribution.” Andy held out a small bundle of paperwork and ink pen for Commander Cross to sign, glancing around at the others gathered in close proximity. They were a strange bunch, but Rangers often were. They didn’t adhere to the more formal uniformity and attitude of the typical guardsman, instead appearing very unique in their dress and mannerisms. Andy felt slight trepidation at the prospect of transporting them all safely to the observation site, she hoped for their sake and her own that she was up to the task.

Miraculous America

Shaking her head Serpentine watched as Talon rose briefly into the air, offering to give her a lift. Looking pensive she declined the request, waving the winged hero farewell. "I think I'm going to stay down on solid ground, I've never been too fond of heights. Besides I haven't got very far to go. Thanks though. See you around I guess..."

Animorphs: The Reckoning

Trekking onward ever deeper into the imposing and thickening forest Mason could feel his determination to find Emma fading fast. A sense of hopelessness at the futility of such a venture nagged at his conscious, and a tiny devilish voice in his soul whispered of how this might even be for the best. He didn’t know Emma very well after all, what would he really have to lose? And now that she vanished, presumably trapped in the body of a deer it would instill a greater awareness for the seriousness of the situation upon the others. This wasn’t a game, this was real life and the loss of Emma so early on might very well push the wannabe heroes to capitulation before they even engaged in their first battle.

For half a second Mason stalled in his forward stride, ready to turn back and find his way out of the woodlands. To tell the others she was gone forever, to press that a similar fate waited for all of them. Then Emma’s voice range out in his head.

“Aaagh!” Mason collapsed onto his knees, clutching at his head as his migraine kicked back into high gear. At last he knew what was causing the terrible pain. It was from when Visser Three and the andalite prince had spoken to him last night, forcing their very words into his subconscious thought. It must’ve been sore after the burst of unbidden feelings, and now it reacted worse than before, reeling at the foreign touch. But despite the pain, and the confusion and hurt Mason heard every plea that Emma made. She was trapped and scared.

Forcing himself to his feet Mason pressed on, his determination reignited. He mentally berated himself for even considering giving up on his schoolmate as he marched doggedly forward. Opening his already dry mouth Mason yelled with a hoarse throat into the silent trees. “Emma! Emma if you can hear me answer! I heard your thoughts! Emma!”