Avatar of HeySeuss

Status

Recent Statuses

7 yrs ago
Hot dogs are already cooked. Might as well just sear them to add flavor.
7 likes
7 yrs ago
I love it when I catch up on my posting.
2 likes
7 yrs ago
If you take college seriously, it opens doors. Harvard and Hopkins makes it easier, but you can do well anywhere.
3 likes
7 yrs ago
Prefer to brainstorm on Discord for that reason.
1 like
7 yrs ago
Windows 10 is very much like a German prison camp guard, "Ah, I see you are tryink to escape work fifteen minutes early, Herr Colonel Hogan, here ist an update zat vill stall you!"
4 likes

Bio

Most Recent Posts

Going Loud



Dan sat through all this with a bit of a 'holy shit' attitude, starting from the security check by the Rangers. He motioned to the rest of the group to stay cool through the process and just go along with it, from the questioning forward. The place was bristling with heavily armed security in the form of a fully uniformed squad of rangers plus a forward detachment and then all the green berets in the room to boot. They'd been cocking this pistol for a while, but now it felt like they were at the break and it'd all move fast from here. Months of building up in the hills, the patient work of dealing with the black market, stealing usable equipment and fortifying the Green Mountains. He even heard rumors of SAM systems being moved in, stingers and bigger stuff.

They were dressed down for the event, because apparently a bunch of the militia type guys showed up in their best Sunday BDU's and web gear, though there were other groups of discreetly dressed guerrillas. Dan guessed, but couldn't tell for certain, if these groups were picked for reliability or what. He knew that his group paid their dues, dutifully forking over most of the opiates in Vermont on charity through the largess and patriotic sentiment of Billy Boyle. Some of the other groups had the same sort of look, like they'd been doing the hairy end of this sitzkrieg for a minute-- the black market groups tended to stick out among the camouflage in their civilianized gear, but they didn't stick out in downtown Burlington.

The plan was audacious and huge. They'd heard the rumors of what was going on in Georgia and Alabama and Florida, and how the other parts of the country were faring, but they didn't have the best information in the universe. One thing the Ranger captain mentioned that was interesting to him was that they had no firm plan for extracting the rangers, but no further reinforcements expected either, "Dig this guys," he muttered to Joe and the Giguere brothers, "they're reinforcing us with a battalion of Rangers. That's it." They already knew it would be down to them, but it was interesting to see the other cells around the room too and compare notes on mode of dress, but he deliberately ignored the introductions on names and things he didn't want to even know, things that an enemy intelligence officer would wannt to pull out of you.

It was a cynical sort of thought. The absolute candor of the operations planning struck Dan as a little dangerous -- if there was a traitor in the room, they'd have the mother of all intelligence to give to the Stasi in Burlington...but on the other hand, who would believe it? Everyone -was- watching each other though, and there was a bit of tension. Dan kept his hands out in the clear, to make sure that no one saw him taking down notes or anything else that was overly suspicious. He just prayed no one in here had a photographic memory.

But at least they knew their target. He wasn't keen to shoot Vermont State Troopers if it came down to it, but they also had to take out that communications center. It would force the Soviets to bring more equipment in and probably more troops as well. As to that airfield? Well, with the Soviets using it to launch sorties against US forces, it had to go. The strategy of just building up guerrillas in the mountains and not even shooting at these planes, of just stockpiling, digging in and otherwise setting up for a long, ugly fight, made sense now. They were going to swing in on that airfield and bag a lot of equipment in one fell swoop, while attention was on Georgia.

It struck him that they worried a lot over covering up LeBeau's murder and all the evidence out of a conccern for discretion, trying to make it look as much like a drug deal gone sour as possible, down to taking the money.

Now Dan felt like a bit of a fool; they didn't need to worry about it because all of New England was about to go loud. He glanced back at the Giguere brothers, who could probably read his expression for once -- it was tense and it was real. They signed on for this, sure, but now they were staring down the barrel. Once they got down to talking to Park about the nuts and bolts, they'd hopefully be able to settle down and just concentrate on the actual job. The big stuff was a little too much to think about, when the day to day was survival and not getting pinched on this deal or getting caught killing this guy...
If this one is in fact dead, sorry to see it go. I'm moving it over to my archives so if it is alive, please flag.
(Collab w/ @DJAtomika @Samdragonx and HeySeuss)

Some bunnies were very kind. They would stand still or wait to be sacrificed. Tendun always enjoyed making a few changes to the usual method of sacrifice. The report that more fighting was to ensue left the full blooded orc with an unspoken uncertainty. To ensure himself victorious and with enough bloodlust for battle, cruel actions had to be taken. And what’s more cruel than executing those wounded that had opposed them just a little while ago? “Preferably in the most bloody of ways, of course.” The wounded were lined up. Some standing. Some already in position to be picked up. “Flaggy, you want some extra bunny bits to put on that spikey flag of yours?” He raised his sword and began breathing heavier.

Some of the bunnies yelled a bit. In his enduring enjoyment of making the room a bloody mess and gathering a pile of bones, Tendun had disregarded his surroundings. “What? Where is everyone?” The drums had begun resounding. Storming out the door with a skull in one hand and a tasty bit of bunny liver in the other, Tendun realized he messed up and begun running wildly while making up excuses to get an extra punishment for this.

“Save some skulls for me, Tendun. I’ll make sure our Pikes have some good trophies displayed on their shields after this battle’s done.”

Karrush planted her standard in the dirt and dusted off her chest armour. Her sword was planted in the dirt as well, and she pulled it from its place and swung it a few times to get rid of the filth. The first engagement had been rather filthy but her pike line had stood firm under her guidance. Shields up and pikes out, the filthy bunnies had pounded against their line and been filled full of holes as a result. The ensuing carnage left her wanting more, but the bunnies had retreated, pushing the front line out of the fort. She’d taken a moment with the rest of the front line Pikes, letting them get their shit sorted while she re-sharpened her blade. Now the order was for her line to advance, and the standard bearer belonged at the front, flag as high as their spirits.

Tendun turned his attention to the battlefield. “Stuff is about to get ugly. Better not miss this!” His excitement exceeded his ability to control himself. Time started to pass, slowly. The adrenaline surged through his veins with every step. His heart beats speeding up, his environment looking like ice as he moved to the front. Sound of the drums aroused the memories of previous bloodshed: a day in the hunt.

Winds of the east pressed a cold chill against his back. Why did they need to go hunting to seal a business contract. Clearly this was the work of someone who did not care for the better ethics of the job. But getting his blood would be easy, as it would just require an accident. A sharply edged accident. A bow in his hand, he could not handle. Or at least better never use again. Wouldn’t want someone to find out what he’d do. “This bunny is going down.” An old man. His beard well shaven. Short hair, but a brittle posture. He would probably have a load of wealth stashed somewhere from his mercenary days. To bad the bunny showed its ugly head too soon. It would have prolonged Tendun’s ability to reminisce about the past.

There they were, puny bunny heads. “Let’s get ugly!!!” The pace of the drums hastened. Slowly drawing his sword, Tendun remembered to switch weapons as some of these bunnies did wear actual armor. Bringing forth his falchion, he looked at his fellow tuskers. “Well? What are you all waiting for?!“ He rose his sword. “Get ready to chop some bunnies!” The beating of his armor was in tune with the drums and made the other tuskers surrounding him yell loudly. “Vras! Vras! Vras!” Some of them broke formation slightly. The taunting and terrifying looks of orcs happy for a bloodbath were very intimidating (to a bunny). With the large Tendun growling and roaring at the front line, most others behind him felt the need to join in the savage behaviour.

Koloch, by contrast, readied himself in resolve. He advanced in his heavy armor, with its slopes and angles for deflecting arrows, a blood-red, but black-helmeted, specter a gallery of gargoyle and gorgon faces on pauldrons and greaves and breastplate snarling at the enemy. “KEEP THE PACE WITH THE DRUMS!” and his bellow carried across the lines, directed at the pikes that knew the Drillmaster well enough. He carried his halberd and had the sword swinging at his hip, ready as a backup should the first weapon break or be lost.

Karrush banged her sword against her shield and roared, loud and proud. She raised her flag up high and pointed at it with her blade.

“See this, runts? This here’s the symbol of our Company! We fight for our honour! Glory in combat! Let the fields run red with furball blood! Vras! VRAS! FOR THE COMPANY!”

“Vraaaaaaas!” The group of wild orcs following Tenduns example charged forward meeting the enemy head on. In the corner of his eye there wasn’t a flag. Did he in his excitement mess up again?

The flag wasn’t behind him. It was ahead of him. Karrush had already charged forward, leading the Pikes onwards to meet their foe. Her roar, the loudest amongst the front line tuskers, rose above the cacophony as she met the onrush of fur and steel with her own, smashing into the fleshy pink bunny front line with shield extended and sword already stabbing into their ranks. Her blade sang in the midst of combat, stabbing and rending flesh as she snarled at the humans ahead of her.

The tuskers behind her were just as eager to enter combat, and the line of shields and long pikes crashed straight into the human offensive, drawing blood and pushing their line back in their fury. With blade in hand, Karrush roared and pushed the tuskers along, slashing and stabbing at the pinkies ahead of her while her line pushed forward.

Koloch stayed alongside the pikes, at the far right where there was no shield to cover his flank, taking the position of maximum danger in this formation, for which the Tusker to his left, usually the rightmost one, was grateful. He came with the pikes at a steady, relentless pace; some were down, others were at angles and the ones at back were up, circling in the air to catch missiles if they could.

The pikes had small shields that allowed them to grasp the pikes fully in two hands. The blades were nearby and Tendun and Karrush were charging them, but the Pikes formation was a relentless but steady beast of many quills, driving the enemy while they were already engaged, or engaging them so others could engage. And as those enemies became skewered, the next orc up took the place of the tusker trying to pull the pike out of the guts of the enemy, and the formation rolled on, though they were becoming bogged down in the mud, which led to warleaders to shout to make the tuskers keep their form. Some had to be picked up, or pulled out of the muck when they slipped.

They were drilled for this disciplined relentlessness -- this sort of fighting was only adopted by a few orcish tribes, and it was foreign to most, but it was the basis of all discipline in the company. He chanted along side as he dismantled the enemies that tried to exploit the seam and take a flank. He was not alone, there were some of the other Blades working alongside him, doing the butcher’s work to keep the enemy from trying to get around them. But it was extra work with so much mud...Koloch didn’t quite understand it. The mud was everywhere and he was finding himself knee deep, but there was no rain.

The spikes rained down on the enemies behind, starting a duel with their archers and the blades secured flanks, but the pikes were the pivot of the entire battle.

Not only did there appear a skyline of flaming arrows, but also all of the bunnies charged towards the tuskers. After the arrows had landed, their number of casualties seemed to be less than ours, though more were killed by their own friendly fire than the amount of tuskers that charged forward.

Their numbers seen clearly, the tuskers became a tad more excited than they already were. Fighting in all directions, most of the first tuskers started to shout with every human that fell. The tuskers still hidden in the darkness of what was the main line, were surprised the bunny archers did not try to to aim higher. It seemed like they were blinded somehow.

When some of the orcs got gravely injured, Tendun charged back to the main line. Messing up like this on a first try with well-armed tuskers wouldn’t have happened if he didn’t charge in so recklessly.

The few orcs that died in the fighting weren’t worthwhile, unless the enemy thought this was the full force. With the mainline now out for revenge their savagery would triple. Exactly the way Tendun liked it. Knowing the enemy's plan, giving them false hope and then stripping it away with every exploding bunny.

The bunnies left the wounded tuskers on the floor and chased Tendun as best they could. A signal fire might be lit, but that would attract the other bunnies. So there was only one thing left to do.. Raise a rally banner amidst the bunny army. The banner being on a spiky stick really made Karrush job easy and if she stuck the landing, would allow the fastest of tuskers to maybe catch a few commanders.

After all, charging into battle and chasing a captain or lieutenant with a blade strong enough to smash a horse's’ skull was really Tendun’s specialty.

Koloch’s method against the bunnies was essentially technique, not breaking the frame of mind he was in as discipline kept him in the fight and his furnace burned. But in the midst of the killing, he realized that some of these bunnies were bigger and fiercer than the others, dressed in furs and painted, and there were others behind them, coming. He could see well in the dark and count their numbers and location, so he shouted back, in Orcish, “TELL THE SPIKES TO TARGET FURTHER RIGHT AND TO THE REAR, THE BIGGER, LESS ARMORED BUNNIES ARE THERE. BREAK THEM! STOP THEM FROM OUTFLANKING US!” But the mud was still rising, and it was getting deeper and harder for the Tuskers to make way in it, while the bunnies were suspiciously dry and above water...
I just posted one to kind of move the needle. I did throw in a Dead Kennedy's reference.
"Whose place is this again?" Jared asked Carl, who mumbled a name that Jared didn't recognize.

It had a basement bar and a conveniently unlocked cabinet. Someone was mixing drinks, but being high schoolers they weren't exactly sophisticated mixologists. People were gulping down these awful drinks anyway.

Jared nursed his awful but highly alcoholic drink, and he wasn't the only one drinking with a grimace. The music was the usual stuff that got played at these things, and Carl was mostly plotting what Carl plotted, while Jared started to think through the night's events, particularly the way that he was being steered toward a fight with Livingston. Any way one looked at it, he was going to suffer some sort of consequence, so it was a 'do the right thing' moment.

"Carl, I think I need to back outta this one."

"Awww--look, fuck man, let's go outside, I don't want people overhearing that shit." No one was right there, but it was hard to say who would overhear what. He dipped his head in the indicated direction, weaving through the drinkers, the dancers and the tokers. They managed to slide out to a place outside to talk without being overheard.

"So what are you backing out of, Jared?"

"This Heather Voss thing. It's too much weirdness, I don't think it's gonna work in the long run anyway."

"Well, do yourself a favor son, and just detach after the winter formal. Don't do anything drastic and you should be okay. You got a problem though, it's that Voss is chasing you around, she might be trying to squeeze you in tonight."

"Yeah, I know. And I'm gonna need a favor."

"Shit man, you know you got favors in the bank."

"You're designated driver tonight. I'm getting too drunk to fuck."
I loved an RP I played about four years ago in the Guild in which I played an English Dame who was asked to use her connections in France to get the English in contact with the underground; it was jolly good fun. lol


If you want to get involved, this is a good time. We're about to have major action and it's a good time to introduce new characters. The cell of main characters is part of larger events but they aren't going around and ramboing. However, there is an operation underway that would be a good opportunity for double agent assets to cross over into the guerrilla side of the resistance.
I've got it half written and will finish. Knocking the rust off on this plot as you are. :)
Who doesn't like a Partisan adventure


Also included, drug deals gone bad and clippin' Soviet agents.
In Gutcheck 7 yrs ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
"D-man. break on the fibula in November, 2016 against the Habs." Jared said it with a shrug; six foot even, he was built like the rest of the hockey players, wide on the shoulder and neck, strong hips and legs. They came lean and leaner for the most part, owing to the ultra-intense nature of their sport.

Greg Martin glanced over, "Holy shit, that's Jared fuckin Landry. He blocked a slapshot with his leg during a powerplay. Finished the fuckin' shift though." The dude was nodding approvingly -- when a hockey player gives another hockey player kudos for grit, you knew that it was serious business.

Jared cut in, before the physio went off, "It was stay on the shift or risk a goal while getting off the ice, so I stayed another one and a half minutes on the ice with that injury. Had no idea it was that bad, but I know I was hurt. So I did rehab with the Caps and came back to play late season, but they lost someone and I subbed in during the playoffs. So we were playing the Penguins, game 5 and the ligaments tore again, because there'd been damage from the break."

Bob cut in at this point, "And he's here because of what he was doing during those playoffs. The Capitals had a shot, and it went away when he did. We know there's work to do, but we want to sign this contract. We want you to look at it and tell us what you see. I forwarded a PDF of the medical reports that the caps gave us," he taped his ipad a couple of times, "and you can work it from here. Look, Caps said he's ready to play now. But I want him stronger. We need to work up a training regimen that strengthens the things that keep coming loose."

So that was the hitch; he was in this lady's hands. He glanced over and nodded, "Look, most of the work we did over there was with weights, and the trainer...I dunno, different ideas? If you have a program that can keep it from happening, I am all yours. I want as much ice time as possible."
I wanted to bump this. We have an opportunity to bring in a couple more characters. We have a steady posting rate and this RP is ongoing. ;)
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet