Avatar of Flightless_Soul
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    1. Flightless_Soul 10 yrs ago

Status

Recent Statuses

4 yrs ago
Current @Potemking: I feel as though you may have a masochistic compulsion. I've broken many a controller over Soulsborne games.
4 yrs ago
*Has a feeling Jones reads too many romance novels*
1 like
4 yrs ago
Redguards are technically the Arabians of Tamriel, so wouldn't shouting "Haji" make more sense? No disrespect to my Muslim buddies out there, just sayin'.
4 yrs ago
[2] It can also be effective in subverting the person's expectations. Take for instance Spec Ops: The Line. Looks like a boring military shooter, but is actually a grim look into the horrors of war.
4 yrs ago
[1]The 'cover' is meant to entice the person into partaking of the medium, just as an album cover would intrigue someone into listening to the music.

Bio

I'm a human, so there.

Most Recent Posts


"Howdy, y'all!"

Harley James Whitfield


-Age-
16

-Gender-
Female

-Sexuality-
Bi-curious

-Skills-
-Horseback riding
-Some marksmanship
-Knows a good amount of first aid
-Used to go on hunting and fishing trips with her dad

-Weapons & Equipment-
-1 Smith & Wesson .44 Magnum Revolver
-1 Marlin 30-30 Lever Action Rifle with a 4x32 scope
-1 Bowie Knife
-1 Canteen of water
-12 rounds .44 Magnum
-15 rounds 30-30
-2 cans of baked beans
-1 roll of gauze bandage
-1 bottle of antiseptic
-1 pair of surgical scissors

-Personality-
Harley's a charming southern girl with a big heart, and she's not afraid to get her hands dirty, though she is greatly traumatized by all that has occurred to her since the epidemic struck her hometown. She can be stubborn as a mule sometimes, and often times she goes with her gut feeling rather than what someone tells her to do. She is friendly with everyone she meets, but due to certain circumstances, it's hard for her to trust others. Harley's great at holding her own, but sometimes she can become scared and confused, often to the point of panicking.

-Bio-

Before the outbreak, life was simple for Harley. Born into a family of ranchers, she lived most her life on a fifty acre horse ranch just a few miles outside Whitesboro, Texas, where she grew up loving to ride horses, go fishing and camping at the stock pond, and go hunting with her dad on their property. She had a close knit group of friends at her school, made straight A's in most of her classes, and was just weeks away from getting her driver's license.....then it happened.

News began to spread rampantly of the outbreak, cases of the virus spreading like wildfire across the U.S. At first, Harley and her folks ignored it, thinking it was just some small epidemic and that it wasn't going to hit Whitesboro any time soon, but as the days dragged on, Harley's optimism began to fade. She would see jets and helicopters and other military vehicles storming through her quiet little town and even past the ranch. Soldiers with guns and hazmat suits were stationed at her school and scanning all of the students, some Harley never seen again. It was a nightmare becoming all too real for Harley, but she was sure the virus wouldn't hit anywhere near her home, not when she lived virtually miles away from anyone....but she was wrong.

One night, when Harley could barely sleep because of the helicopters thundering over her house, she heard her mother scream. Quickly, Harley darted from her bed and to her parents' bedroom, only to discover the horrible truth. Her father had been infected and he eviscerated her mother, nothing left of her but a gory, stomach churning mess. Her father soon took after her and chased her all through the house, finally cornering her in the living room. That was when Harley had to make....the most painful decision of her life. Right as her father pounced on her, Harley quickly grabbed her dad's revolver from the open gun safe and fired frantically six shots, blood and tissue spewing all over her. Once the gunsmoke had settled.....she witnessed what she had done. She fell to her knees dropping the gun and sobbing uncontrollably over her father's disheveled corpse. Since that horrific night, Harley's traveled away from her home, seeking other survivors or at least a place to rest safely.

She took with her a small rucksack full of some essential survival items, such as a first aid kit and rations and ammo for her guns. Most important, she took with her Riley, her favorite horse she helped raise since he was a colt, and from then on the two were inseparable....but what she took with her as well.....were the disturbing and tragic memories of that very night....the night she was forced to kill her father....

-Character Themes-

Hurt - By Johnny Cash

Hymn for the Missing - By Red
@DriveEMOut Ah okies.
@DriveEMOut Coolios! ^__^ I added my character to my first post too
@DriveEMOut Hi hi! ^__^ So this looks like a really interesting RP! Any spots open?

@SmallWonders I think I might have an idea for an FxF spy plot. ^__^ PM me? I'd also like to try an interesting twist on the Master/Slave.
@Nikki Moonlight

~"It's good to hear from you, Aya-chan."~ Hibana whispered into the receiver. Her voice was demure, void of any sort of expression...and yet...there was something, a subtle hint that Aya could possibly detect...of sadness.

~"The others have been assigned their missions and will be heading out shortly. I wanted to take the time to speak with you about a private matter. First, I need you to tell Dmitri to leave. This conversation is strictly between you and I. Let me know when he is gone."~

((PM for secret phone convos))

@King Tai @CriticalHit @DriveEMOut @bloonewb

"This way."

Curtly Azuma ushered the young men to the elevator, flanked on both sides by two men wielding Heckler & Koch MP5N submachine guns. Even within the sanctity of the school, all security measures had to be taken. One could never know if a teacher was actually a rival hitman in disguise, or...if one of Noir's chosen...was a deceitful rat that needed to be squashed.

As they boarded the elevator and it began its descent into the school's lower level, for the first time, Azuma removed his mask, slightly just to pop a cigarette into his mouth and light it. A scar, grisly and jagged, stretched from the right corner of his lip all the way to his mangled ear. He sighed, a thick white wisp exhaled, "If any of you have something to say, please do. I have seen many...many things, both in my career as an assassin and in my time I served. The world is filled with darkness, my students, darkness...that dwells within all of us. Welcome...to Hell."

At that moment, the doors opened to Hell's Cistern.



"Magnificent, isn't it? Some of you already know this place, but for you, Minato-san, this is the elite training ground of Class Noir."



All around them, the grunts, punches, and kicks of recruits sparring in the dojo culminated with the rattling echoes of gunfire from the shooting range, yet all sounds ceased once they stepped through the door...and all the students took notice bowing in unison.

"Look alive, recruits! Azuma-Sensei is here!"

Azuma stepped forward. As he did, a student rushed forward kneeling at his feet and offering to Azuma graciously an antique katana in a shimmering black scabbard. Azuma drew the sword, the blade, pristine and sharp, shining like the light of Heaven amidst the darkness of Hell, singing among the dead silence.

"Look behind me, students! Gaze upon them!" His voice boomed with the utmost fear and authority as Azuma motioned to the assassins behind him. "Not too long ago, they were like you, worthless, impudent, rough around the edges. Pieces of dirt that had no purpose but to be trampled under foot. But it was here, in the fires of Hell, the flames of tribulation, these meaningless fragments of earth were hardened, sharpened, beaten, shaped and purified...to become this."

High over his head he held the katana for all to see, the students, the assassins, the guards, and the instructors.

"The Sword of Requiem, the blade with which Natsume-Sama cut down her adversaries and carved her legacy into the criminal underworld. It is by our bloodstained hands swift and merciless death is delivered. Retribution is paid unto those who dare to oppose us. We are the elite killers, the assassins of Class Noir!"

All gave a rousing shout to the end of his speech, Azuma-San sheathing the sword and resting it at his side.

"Continue your training, students. Requiem's future rests in your hands. Assassins, follow me to the armory."
Hibana smirked sipping of her vodka. Her little soldiers, her angels of death, all so eager to spill blood for her, for Requiem. As one by one they asked their questions, she answered them.

@DriveEMOut

~"The training grounds below the school in the Cistern has a fully stocked armory thanks to our arms suppliers. You'll find a veritable bouquet of death and discord at your fingertips, Dai-san, every weapon ranging from basic nine milimeters to fifty caliber anti-material rifles. Azuma-San will escorts you to the Cistern to gear up before your mission. "~

@CriticalHit

~"Precisely, Katsuro-san."~ She answered with a curt nod. ~"I am giving each of you free reign over the contracts you choose today, bar the one we chose for Minato-san. Kill them however you wish, but leave no evidence behind, nor witnesses."~

@King Tai

~"So I would assume."~ Hibana mused swirling about the ice in her glass rather nonchalant. ~"Your fascination with African American gang culture is...borderline obsession...to say the least, Ringo-san. This could prove to be a double edge sword frankly. While your knowledge of the gang lifestyle is extensive and could possibly aid you in assimilating yourself into their ranks, I warn you not to get too comfortable in your undercover position. You are an assassin of Requiem and that is all."~ A stern glare she gave Ringo to emphasize that. It's not as though she assumed the boy would betray her, but she had to keep them in line and remind her attack dogs who held the leash.

@bloonewb

Though her expression remained blank and stoic, Hibana...was dying of laughter on the inside when it had come to Minato's question. She took a sip of her drink and set it aside, trying her damndest not to let any of that laughter out. ~"Minato-san...such an...interesting question you pose. Your grades will be taken care of whether you have completed your school work or not. I am the Headmistress of Seiko Academy after all. What matters more to me than just trivial academic success is your success as a student of Class Noir. Your only curriculum here...is to bring death to our enemies. That being said, Minato-san, you will still have to endure the harsh training regiment all of our recruits have undergone after you kill Schtauffenhauer. Azuma-San will oversee your training and deliver daily reports to me. Impress me, Minato-san, and you will be promoted. Fail me...and you will be expelled, if you get my meaning."~

Once all were answered, she stood from her chair. ~"Now then, if there are no further questions, I must contact Aya-chan. Choose your contracts wisely. I expect all of these men to be dead by the end of the month. You're dismissed."~

As Azuma escorted them out of her office, Hibana whipped out her phone, calling Los Angeles.

@Nikki Moonlight

The Russian man was sitting at a desk in the hotel room, stripping and cleaning his Desert Eagle .44 Magnum while Aya was presumably studying the layout as instructed. The girl....she was a prodigy, scored higher than any of the boys in her class in every category, marksmanship, close quarters combat, stealth, she was primed to be the deadliest hitwoman in the world, perhaps...even deadlier than Hibana.

...it was clear why the boss chose her...

"Da. Is that you, Boss?" The man answered his phone upon it ringing. His ringtone the Tetris theme no doubt.

"Hmm? Da, she is here. I have her studying floor plan of mansion now. Da, she is ready. You wish to speak to her? Okay, I give her phone."

He handed over his cell to the girl.
@King Tai@bloonewb@DriveEMOut@CriticalHit

Azuma rose an eyebrow at how informal the boy Dai had addressed him and Hibana. Though no outward display of emotion, the man could sense an arrogant attitude about him, a cockiness that could either aid him or be his downfall. He gave a stern glare to the boy while Hibana remained indifferent to it. She would deal with his arrogance in her own special way.

As soon as the others arrived, she cleared her throat and addressed them in her most professional demeanor, ~"Gentlemen. As you may know, Requiem's influence has expanded to nearly every corner of the globe. We control the drugs, weapons, and other illicit trades. Hundreds of criminal organizations, from Mafia Families to your...common street gangs, swear fealty to our banner, knowing well we can bring them prosperity or wrath. However...there are those who would spit in our faces and carry a sword when we carry an olive branch. I want you four to deal with these ingrates."~

At this, Azuma set upon the desk pictures of four individual men, each of whom were either former associates of Requiem or enemies. Either way, Hibana had them marked for death.

~"The first is Don Lucio Greone, a Mafia boss operating in Dallas, Texas. Greone's men killed ours and seized a marajuana shipment at the Dallas train yards. We were hoping to make a lucrative deal with a Mexican drug cartel, but thanks to this pompous asshole, our clients are not happy. One of you will eliminate Greone and retrieve the stolen drug shipment."~

Onto the next contract.

~"The next hit is Vasiliy Dalkovich. Dalkovich is one of our Ukrainian associates in the prostitution business. Our brothels and strip clubs are stocked with women willing to work for us, but as of recent, Dalkovich has been involved in a human trafficking ring. This ring has been supplying businesses under his jurisdiction with underage girls. The man knows I frown greatly upon pedophilia, and will have no such sullying my organization. I want him dead along with any of his associates in the human trafficking ring."~

The third.

~"Your third target is Marcus Galloway, Big Mark as he is called by his Chicago street gang, the East Coast Killas. The Killas have controlled the Wards District of Chicago since the 1980s, when Big Mark founded the gang. They run the drugs and illegal weapons distribution in the city, and they are a powerful ally of the Chicago Irish Mob, one of our business rivals on the East Coast. By killing Galloway, his gang will be crippled from the inside, eliminating them and weakening our competitors."

And the final...

~"The last contract we have chosen especially for Minato-san. Since he is a fresh face to our organization, we would like to put his skills to the test. Henrich von Schtauffenhauer is...or rather was...a respected arms dealer we had business with in the past, but as of recent, we have discovered he hasn't been a faithful spouse in our holy matrimony. Invoices from his recent shipments indicate he has been selling weapons on the side to some of our enemies, even to a Somalian terrorist group who was responsible for an attack on an American embassy. Thirty people were killed, placing the blame directly on Henrich. Interpol has him locked up for questioning at their headquarters in Paris. He will be moved to interrogation this Thursday, then extradited to his native Germany to face trial. Before that happens, I want him silenced. He will expose Requiem and discredit the organization if he testifies. It is better to cut out the sparrow's tongue before he sings. These are your contracts, gentlemen. Any questions?"~
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