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Recent Statuses

9 yrs ago
If there are RPs/PM's I need to reply to- I am working on it, I'm a little overladen in life atm. I haven't forgotten about you :)
10 yrs ago
Aaand back.
10 yrs ago
ALERT- I'm going AFK for a week, anyone that sees this on here, I won't be about to respond, this is to both 1x1s/RPs.

Bio

I've RP'd for the best part of over 14 years now here on the Guild, and particularly like military settings, both contemporary, past and near future. I have even dabbled in a little more experimental RPs, as well as created a plethora of 1x1s over my time in the guild. I like creating RPs with a distinct flavour- and often shift between narrative-led RPs to semi-randomised plots.

I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy- though I always come back!

Most Recent Posts

I feel inspiring. I write a post a few hours ago. Two posts happen after. Daaamn. :D

I will be up for collabs when I go home soon.
Highgarden

Merlin Tyrell had already taken in the day's work, and Garlan had left a while ago. The news of Gardener pretenders, and the occurances in King's Landing had become more clear. The administrator took it in, the fact of the matter was, there was an issue to resolve. The heir apparent, the Steward of Highgarden and pretty much in turn, the entirety of the Reach, knew it was a lot to take in. The peasantry were happy, well fed, and doing well. The harvests were remarkable, but yet the underlying fear existed. That of the supernatural, the things that people didn't talk about. Before it had been the crazy people who saw witches and some ghastly shit happen. It was usually murderers, an insane peasant who had killed a bunch of people, before having the long hand of the Reach's law and order enforced. And yet now it was real. It was horrid. A village had entirely been murdered, almost 50 people hung and several decapitated, was a horrific sight found near Uplands, perhaps down to the Vultures, or something else. Merlin understood the arcane a little more than his father or brother did, but at the same time, knew he understood very little. The Maesters did the best they could to understand it, but even he had to admit, it was beyond his depth. In times past, this would have been fine....but now, it was different. Where he had sent his men, nothing had really come of it, a few witches hung publicly didn't change much either.

Standing in the tower, he looked at his bird of prey, sitting gently in his hand, feeding it a little feed, the beautiful red kite a sizeable bird indeed. Not a common bird for a falconer, but Merlin, like his father, adored these sorts of bird. Scarlet was a beautiful bird, though even if her name was soft, it was an impressive bird. Cooing it's wings up, Merlin raised his hand and let it pulse itself out of the window, taking flight with a screech. He had heard of even finer birds that had emerged into the world. Perhaps when the war died down again, he would return to falconry far more. For now, he had to let Scarlet go and have a hunt of her own on the banks of the Mander. Rats, mice, whatever she liked.

The noise of the morning market could be heard occasionally from the castle when more people bustled in, Merlin looking on from the tower, as he heard knocking on the door. Turning, he watched his wife, Evelyn, or Eve as she was better known, slowly walk in. A light yellow dress, and a slim form, Eve was a pretty girl, and still relatively slender, even after birthing three children, she looked remarkably healthy. Maybe the only lady that Merlin could compare to Alerie, albeit Evelyn was far quieter, and a little less cunning. She was just a lovely wife, as Merlin approached her, taking her hand.
"You are always looking over the land. Never seem to stop." She commented, hugging Merlin, reaching up a lot to the taller Tyrell.
"My mind tends to stray. Got a lot to worry about. Lest people hound me more." He replied, sighing as he took a seat on a chair, Evelyn grabbing one right next to him.
"It's only going to get worse when your father passes, you know that?" She brushed her hair gently, as Merlin gulped, nodding.
"Indeed. The Gods are kind on him though, as he is with others. He'll live a while."
"By that standard his Kingdom wouldn't have all this....strangeness."
"Perhaps....though maybe we do need someone to help us explain. More than a Maester can."

----------------
King's Landing

The gardens of King's Landing were pleasant, and Alerie had spent the day with a few ladies of the court, her handmaiden, Alys, and a few others. She'd requested that Amber came back, after she had recovered from her wounds. Alerie would have visited her handmaiden herself, but given she didn't know anything about her yet, it seemed strange. The discussion had been good, there had been some watered down wine, and the sun had been out. It had been pleasant, and Alerie knew she wasn't needed with Willas, who was busy with the King and Queen listening to petitioners. She heard the noise of shoes, and her eyes rolled. Seven hells, what sort of look did she have to come back here?

Amber walked in, the shy handmaiden finding Alerie quickly, bowing.
"My lady, I'm sorry. I was told to find you here...." Alerie turned away from the lady she spoke with, sighing.
"There is nothing to forgive. Actually....my dearest ladies, give me a few minutes. I shall return soon. It is good to see you well, Amber. After what happened..." Alerie said, standing up from the chair, walking away from the little pavillion in the gardens, taking Amber's hand gently, walking away. She kept silent, until she tutted, looking across at the Redmayne.

Turning into the Rose Gardens, a part of the garden particularly adorned with roses and relatively isolated, Alerie stopped, gently putting her open arm into a rosebush, barely even fazed by the pain, and clutched a rose, pulling the stem out, with a gentle pull, it severed from the whole of the bush itself, as she looked to Amber, with a glare. She felt no pain, nothing at all almost, it seemed to sit on her skin and barely even affect her.
"Stupid, stupid girl. This thorn has less of a pain than you. I always thought it might come to this happening. And you're lucky not to be dead...." Alerie coldly and harshly remarked, brushing the rose against Amber's skin. She naturally felt irked, looking on, words barely forming.

"But you almost deserve to be. How do you think I look, when my own handmaidens can't even be with me at a time of peril! You ran off and slept with a man of a class even lower than you. How do you think that's going to help you here?"
"I only wanted to be with Ser Aerion, I.."
"I thought as much. You don't think, Amber. You won't be in my services then. I'll send a letter back to Jamie, tell him you can go back to The Arbor and carry on being the girl you were going to be and deserve. I should have known better. You've probably got the pox now....you'll be redundant to any suitor. Lucky you even had me to try for you."

"Please, Lady Alerie....I'm sorry, I can't....please, don't!" She burst into tears, as Alerie knew she was broken by the ordeal. Alerie looked on icly, clutching the rose, shaking her head.
"Well, there is one way you can redeem yourself. You seem to be a rather wild flower. Would be a shame to keep you away. So you're going to do something for me, and perhaps I'll find you someone you can marry and be merry and live happily with. Refuse, and I'll make sure you suffer." Alerie said, as Amber nodded her head, barely wiping the stream of tears in the isolated and empty rose garden.

--------------

Somewhere in the Red Mountains

Garlan looked on at Gendry, the large Baratheon commanding a presence, marching alongside him on his own horse.
"It's a different world to the one I fought in, Gendry. Just fire and huge battles. Not this." He chuckled, looking on at the Red Mountains in the distance, very much living up to their name in the Dornish sun. The horse was cloaked in green and gold, with a number of Garlan's personal guard following in the group, alongside the Baratheons. A co-operation, that much it could be said this was.

"I don't understand your griffons, or any of this mythical shit. A world far before my time and after, I'm afraid. You've proven to be a commander and a half in your time. At least you understand how to work those resources. For me, it was defence of our land and retribution, throwing soldiers in enormous fields and always cutting them apart, no matter what odds, through blood and guts. You know something more.

"But I'm glad you listened to me regarding Mirren. She'll do well. That, and the other soldiers we'll send in ahead." Garlan added, adjusting his visor a little, looking in the distance, the sight of columns and huge numbers of soldiers clear to see, the enormous spire that was the Spine, a little covered in snow even at this time of year at it's very peak, showing there had to be some cold in these mountains somewhere, as Garlan pointed it out.

"Spire's got a few gentle routes going up. But it's a hell of a climb. May give us a roost to view the world from. But it also makes us as visible as we could be. Rockfall and archers are the worst we could run into. May I suggest we segment our forces to take them on all angles of that face, perhaps consider the use of our tricks up our sleeves to get them? I personally see that as a difficult and challenging target. I have a funny feeling you're about to suggest your griffons might be able to help."
I'm going through a crazy writer's block. I might for now post something shorter, but something that gives me the chance to put my feet back into the hold, if you will. I feel like I've written for Ellion a little too much, so I'll look at my other chars.

Also, @MrDidact, how stag-like would you put Gendry's armour to be? :P
@MrDidact

Life is happening to me. I can't post tonight, but I'll try over the next couple. TLDR, gonna cover Highgarden politics, maybe a collab in KL, and a bit of Garlan's command.
@ONL @Force and Fury

I got really, really busy- exams, work, life just decided to fucking hit like a freight train. My creativity died completely- tomorrow late evening I might cook up something. I really hope you don't mind- don't worry, I have a plan for that Sealy fuck. :D
@Force and Fury

Not massively, but don't double post-overlap. I'm giving it another day to let people in before I post to keep it moving forward :)
Natalie had the same as Victor, her helm off, their faces visible, the facepaint that Natalie had applied completely melted off at this point, the lightly applied dark blue and pale white lightening beginning to fade entirely. She nodded upon hearing the news, her blonde hair shortened and the remainder tied up, looking across to the General. Ross had taken the bulk of his armour of, similarly to Carl.
"Understood. Thanks, General." He didn't even need to salute, as the General left, Jenny looking across to Natalie, with a nod of her own, of appreciation.

"Gotta say, Bear. You two saved our asses. And I didn't realise how good you looked, under that futuristic helmet of yours. Wasn't expecting it." Jenny said, Natalie giggling a little with laughter.
"Thanks. I'd take the compliment but I'm afraid that Brute here would have to tear off your limbs while you watched. Tends to be...well, protective of his Mama Bear, as do I. Eh, either way. You all held yourselves well out there." Natalie commented, feeling lighter without the minigun, though her armour definitely felt like it'd been used well.

"But there's more of the bastards. I know this is gonna be a difficult fight. We are just going to have to keep killing them. What we saw out there, if it got leaked, any of the tech or capabilities, puts everything at risk.....especially the fucking media. Jesus, it's the last thing we need. Technically, you don't actually know our names. Official or otherwise. All you really know is we are that antidote. But if they figure that out before they're all dead, this fight gets a lot tougher." Natalie added, the command clear in her voice.

"Still. Get some rest. Brute, we need to leave the AO in a few hours, head back to the quarters to pack up the gear. PMC wants a debrief too. You in?"

-------------

Two Days Later
Somewhere in southern Kosovo
1900 Hours

In the hilly, tree-lined backwaters of Kosovo, beyond the crap roads and infrastructure, lay Markus, the German KSK operative leaning against a pine tree, the sunsetting horizon cutting through the pine forest, a river below in this remote area. It was peaceful, birdsong could be heard, as he looked over to his collegue, the Canadian JTF2 soldier, Eric, decked out in the same semi-Juggernaut armour that he had, improving in quality by the day, thanks to the provision of a few new quirks and trims that seemed to be ironing out. Markus held a MG36, the uncommon variant on a G36 in his hand, complete with a 100 round dual Beta-C drum mag, and a Aimpoint CompM4 optic on the top, with a foregrip attached for good measure. On his back, he had his usual Bofors AT4, and apart from that, was travelling light on gear. His helmet off, a pair of Wiley X sunglasses on, and looking over at the distant hills in the horizon, then to the far distance, at what could barely be seen through the trees.

They'd been dropped off at least two hours ago on a rural track, with their target being an old lumber mill by the smallish river, the lumber mill deforesting the other side of the hills, this side still relatively intact. Whilst Kosovo was now civil, and no longer existed in a state of war as it had more than a decade ago, it was a little bit of a wild-west. That made it good to hide, or lay something low in. And that was what was suspected at the lumber mill. The trans-national network that was involved in supporting the shady organisation involved in Afghanistan had an intel cache here, and well, it just so happened that Erik and Markus were in theatre. Wet work again, given that it was lightly guarded, and well, it made sense not to go batshit insane with noise. The plan was simple. Head in, recover intel, destroy the place, and any potential HVTs. This was a potential hiding place for the organisation- and if it wanted someone to lay low, this would be the place to do it. Markus kept that in mind, sliding the drum mag back in, cocking the MG36, looking across at Eric.

"Hmm, no patrols their perimeter, and guard presence is low. 20, 30 with Kalashnikovs and they seem extra cheeki breeki. They're badly armed, and retarded. That isn't a deception either. They want a low profile. Makes them look native. Which...smells a bit weird. But we shall see." Markus said, the German rather descriptive, to the point even, as he moved forward, looking at a Land Rover roll in, parking up as the men got out, just looking like they had groceries, or something.
"Lumber Mill's big, but there actually isn't a lot of them. My bet puts intel in that main building, where most of their transports are. Rest of it is probably unoccupied, vacant." Markus added, walking on, going from tree to tree, in a slow walk, keeping his eye on the mill at the bottom of the hill , waiting on a response.
"Got any plan?"
@Force and Fury@BigPapaBelial

He's on the groundfloor. We're upstairs.
Bump :P

@BigPapaBelial@DepressedSoviet@Ulstermann@JDolan

Let's keep this moving :)

@MrDidact

Yaay! :)

Also, I'm in total revision mode again. I didn't get the post done due to other commitments- but I'll make something soon.
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