GourmetItalia

Starfall | Below A Thousand Shadows

This is your idea and creation, NewSun so you have final say on this roleplay's rules. Respect to you and your hard work/dedications! For me, personally I've learned over the years that roleplaying is really more closely associated to collaborative storytelling than a game and each character's personality would almost always dictate their own destinies. As a potential reservist, I, GourmetItalia, am present.

Starfall | Below A Thousand Shadows

As long as we have a solid writer base exceeding or meeting the 2 or 3 person player base, the roleplay still has a chance!

Inspirational Background Music:

Starfall | Below A Thousand Shadows

Would there be room for one more squad member/team player? I hadn't stumbled across this until today and it seems pretty neat with all the distant future sci-fi elements and dark themes! I understand you're all full, but if you need a reservist and new blood, I'm your man!

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

South East - Peter Táo

The previous minutes fell into something of a whirlwind, yet the F.A.S. Trooper's gaze remained fixated upon the most pressing threats. Any hesitations would have instantly cost precious time; a precious commodity they sorely lacked and as the chainsword wielding mutant fell, the specialist immediately swung towards the approaching, stairwell-climbing mutants. His finger squeezed the trigger as his aim pointed towards what appeared to be legs. Disgusting as all hell as he thought as he emptied his rounds into an unfortunate mutant. Regrettably, that still left the remaining mutants and their advancing positions screamed of a mortal close-quarters encounter, something Peter earnestly wished to avoid.

“Come on you three, we really gotta fucking move,” Peter shouted as he rammed a fresh clip into his rifle, “We can't stay here and I've still got visuals on freddy-mutes moving up the stairwells! Fire and maneuver if you have to!”

Steadily, the Washington native rose and proceeded to climb the stairwell as he eyed both the chain-sword and nearing mutants. For a moment, time seemed to slow as he attempted to carefully advance above and past James whilst swivel aiming down his rifle sights. As he climbed, his vision narrowed upon the advancing mutants before his finger once again wrapped around the trigger ...

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

South East - Peter Táo

Scowling, the specialist retrieved his flashlight and bayonet before quickly mounting the objects along the lower assault rifle muzzle. The entire mission had devolved into a master cluster fuck and for whatever reason, something had managed to find its way to the Fourth Floor. Peter wasn't certain what fate awaited the others, but prayed to living hell that they wouldn't be cut off on two sides. Additionally, the eerie voices proved as a chilling reminder to what could potentially happen to Washington's residents if failure happened and as the mutants staggered their onto the ground floor, their presence only served to anger Peter as his thoughts rested on Kelsey and his daughter back in Bunker Washington. The grim situation was rife with potential mortality and if he didn't know better, he was certain some god forsaken entity wanted them dead ... or worse ... eaten.

There was also clear incompetence within Chicago Bunker's Upper Counciller Echelons and the only reason for why he and the others had even entered this shit hole stemmed from the decisions of an as of yet unnamed, ADAM Counciller. Peter doubted less than a quarter of all ADAM Councillers even touched a weapon, let alone engaged in a single patrol. As always, the worst disasters always started with a Counciller and a compass; next came unqualified and untested officers, an over-estimation of ground forces, and the notion that everything on paper should have been taken for face value. If they survived this incident, questions would definitely hammer the existing administrators and high ranking, hierarchical governance officiaries within Bunker Chicago's Upper Echelons.

For now, the present situation dictated a demand for competent enlisted and mid-echelon soldiers to perform above and beyond their required obligation. Washington Frontal Assaulters were good on at least fulfilling most of those promises, even if they fell in battle and as such, Peter's presence required utmost vigilance against an increasingly hostile environment. With a scowl, the Washington native tightly maintained a firm grip on the rifle handles as his New York companion outlined a balsy counter-measure to collapse the stairwell after they'd regrouped. Without another word, Peter swept the perimeter and unholstered his ADAM issued pistol before offered offer it, butt first towards the Captain. If they were going to last a little longer, fielding a Tom Cruise certainly proved a step up from wasting valuable military assets.

"Captain," Peter hissed, "He's right, we gotta move up to help Sergeant Morai. If we let those assholes get up those stairs, it's all over. Stay close to us, keep a good eye for anything and, and uhm ... I hope you're a good shot because we're all gonna need whatever covering fire we got!"

Rising, Peter offered the Captain his pistol magazines before he quietly darted his way up and within close overlapping proximity of James' reach. His finger wrapped around the trigger as he prepared for engagement, however, as a veteran soldier, Peter maintained his fire discipline to locate or dispatch any additional targets or threats. Upon reaching a firing position, the Washington soldier fell into a crouched posture, squinted, and aimed down his sights towards the straddling mutants.

"In position and ... I'm still spotting 5 tangos plus Franken-freak by the first floor entrance," the specialist hissed, "Move, move, move!"

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

I thought I'd clarify about my previous post; Heyitsjiwon and I collaborated for our post. Crossing my fingers to a recession with Goleyeith's mutating streak ...

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

South East Sector Streets - Peter and James (collaboration)

"Th'fuck," Peter muttered as he descended past the blazing helicopter. Somehow, he'd managed to reach the battle zone without complications, however, upon reaching the debris strewn streets, found himself staring towards a colossal multi-legged mutant. Without hesitation, the Washington specialist dove into a sideways roll and into cover just as the chopper's fresh aerial rounds splattered bright orange liquids onto the pavement away some meters away. Moments later, the situation had further devolved into greater deterioration as the colossal mutant managed to somehow dispatch the chopper in brutish fashion.

"Achilles Heel is down n' I'm feelin' a little loved here," the radio screamed.

Cursing, Peter maneuvered forwards as the Chopper fell and found himself shielding his eyes as the familiar whirs and mechanical helo sounds ended with a highly pitched shrills. Thumbing the switch to full auto, the Washington native fell into a hunched position as he managed a controlled advance through the various forms of cover.

"So much for air support," he grumbled as he watched a jump suited pilot emerged unscathed.

"... Aw shit." the pilot muttered, earning Peter's undivided attention, "Lets git' inside! We're sitting ducks out here!"

"The sooner the better, Captain," Peter answered as he crouched behind a piece of cover. Shortly after eyeing the massive mutant freak, the specialist lowered his rifle and retrieved his radio as high command issued chatter spoke of evacuation and limited close air support.

Pausing, the F.A.S. Trooper activated the speak button and cleared his throat before uttering, "Uhm ... South East forces, south east forces. This is Specialist Peter Tao and we've got a fallen angel, I repeat, a fallen angel approximately a dozen or so meters near ... some big, giant assed mutie. I have 1 survivor here with me and we are heading into cover so if you see us, please do not fire …"

---

James went upstairs with the group. Clearly it was safer to be in the buildings, but at this point... there really wasn't much that James could do. James shook his head at Morai's question and said "We're in a pretty safe..." He then paused and decided to change his working a bit "Or at least reasonable place where we have a lot of cover and vantage points. I'm thinking that we hold this building and wait. Although to be honest, I think that I'm going to stay behind once you guys get evacuated.God knows what happening in the other sectors. Not to mention that the presence of U-ARM kind of makes me a bit anxious. I'll scan from the roofs as the helicopters leave for any signs of trouble. That's what I'm thinking right now." Then came some weird, unintelligible speaking emitting from James' radio. There was just so much uncertainty and confusion with the fog of war, and the random noise from his radio just amplified it. Still, there was much to be done, and many more people to make sure were safe. Especially the Captain, but thankfully he had met up with some reinforcement as James heard the message that the man named Peter sent. James responded "Copy that, Specialist. I'll rendezvous with you in the first floor of the apartment."

---

“Captain,” Peter firmly voiced, “You heard the man! Let's move the fuck out and I'll cover your six!”

James then turned around and began to walk down the stairs. As he walked, James spoke into his radio "Message to all units in the combat area. U-ARM is in the area, so watch out. Not all gunfire may be friendly. Also, stay clear of the street in the South East Sector for now." He then changed channels to his sector's frequency and said "I don't know if the two of you who went toe to toe with the giant mutant are still alive, but we're holding the cleared apartment. Stay away from the street. If you can, try to meet up with us. Out." As he finished speaking, James began to approach the first floor.

“Understood,” the specialist answered.

Raising his rifle, the Washington native squinted as his gaze swept along the surrounding apartment enntrances. He'd only briefly recalled the stories his great grandfather, Norman, told and the luxuries afforded towards pre-catacalysm Americans. The ruins may have corrupted the city's downtown prestige, however, signs of once well furnished, luxury residences projected through the dirt and cobbled debris. What was life before the cataclysm and the apocalyptic winters? Peter could never truly understand, however, if anything, the abandoned complexes at least offered a small glimpse into pre-cataclysm Chicago through the shattered, downtown remnants. The native sighed and exhaled before his eyes spotted movement along one such complex entrance.

“Captain,” Peter addressed, “I think I see movement over by that entrance. Stay low, keep your head down, and try to stay away from Frankenfreak over there. If we're lucky, we'll have infantry support and a bit of air cover. Sound good? Great. Let's go!”

Peter offered his companion a shoulder clap as he maneuvered into a hunched, albeit controlled scamper whilst eyeing Frankenfreak ...

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

Collaboration posts with Heyitsjiwon in the works so please stayed tuned!

The Wolves of the Mediterranean

Wait wait ... so that's it?! Wolves is terminated?

The Last Bastion: Bunker Chicago

Peter Táo, Bunker Security Reinforcements. Battle Zone of Downtown Skies.
South East

---

The American Way of Life. Filled with countless dangers, limited opportunities, and life or death struggles. However harsh it seemed, it was what it was and nothing would ever quite match the consumer based pre-cataclysmic eras. Somehow, aside from the nightmarish Northern Frontiers, the radiation infested African jungles, or Warzone Europa, the United States seemed to have scraped by through a form of fallout bunkers and networks. As time went on, civilization began to emerge from what became Thirteen Colonies and the fortified Bunker Cities.

A dark haired man wearing Standard Medium-Classed Bunker Infantry Armor was evidence of the supposed American renaissance, bobbed his head towards the speakers along a sparsely populated bench along the transport plane. The warning klaxons blared across the compacted cabin as red lights oscillated along the wall mounts. Crackling his knuckles, the Washington Bunker native nodded and unlatched the magazine from his assault rifle before rapping it along his helmet. The heavily reverberated dings and continuous note pitches surfaced a grin, prompting the F.A.S.T. Trooper to quickly slam the magazine back into the chambered holster. The Washington native already switched to X-Sinner, the White Metal band from the pre-cataclysm 80s. Before a suicidal mission, he pumped to Walking Evil for the road ahead.



"Whoa! Walkiiiiiing evillllllll," the Bunker Trooper sang amidst bobbing to the guitar solo, "Say-cred servants sacrifice in the dark of night ..."

Several moments and a pistol load later, Specialist Peter Táo had re-examined his gear, ammo reserves, and parachutes straps. Air drops always brought out an individual's unmolested self and Peter remembered the days he performed his first drops, which somehow brought him into New York Bunker territory. The missions were some he never wanted to revisit despite having assisted the hard-bitten Northern Bunker New York Ground Security Teams. Sure, Washington Bunker professionals could hold their own, but they were dropping into an urban freak-hole and if he wasn't mistaken, an entire Bunker Battalion had entered and failed to return.

"Sam Houston, Liam Grillod, Marvin Walters, South West. JUMP!"

“Alright, you guys, kick some ass out there!” the Washington specialist shouted towards departing Chicago Security personnel, “Shit's about to go sideways, but … if we all get out of there alive, beers're on me ... even if you've gotta take my current paycheck!”

Not a moment after he watched Specialists Liam and Matthew jump, he heard Mirkov bellow, “Peter Táo, South East, JUMP!”

“Affirmative,” Peter loudly answered before he simultaneously pulled on his gas mask and twisted his wrist watch gears to a one hour, count-down timer. Rising, the specialist hastily shoved his earbuds and archaic MP6 into his pocket before a simple wrist motion opened a locket of his wife, Kelsey.

“Wish me luck babe,” he breathed, glancing upon the ravishing picture of a smiling brunette haired woman. The specialist gripped the locket tightly and winced before turning towards the opening.

Almost immediately after he took off down the ramp, the light sensor along his suit pulsated a brilliant green. The next moment, he found himself in free fall towards the Battle Zone of Downtown's Southeast Sector. Peter spread his arms out and bent his legs upwards in an effort to slow his fall and to locate a designated landing zone. Right before he heard the sensor emit a continuous warning, Peter pulled the deployment latches and watched as his chute both open and deploy. Under his parachute canopy, the sounds of rapid .50 caliber machine gun fire only heightened his resolve as he gripped the chute handles. For a moment, time seemed to slow as his senses sharpened to focus upon gliding and swivelling himself towards the street near what looked to be run down apartments ...