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    1. icmasticc 11 yrs ago
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Recent Statuses

7 yrs ago
Current I won't lose sight of my resolve again. Reinvigorated and ready to have some fun!
2 likes
8 yrs ago
Persona 5... Once again consuming me whole--such a good series.
8 yrs ago
Welp, I did the thing. Check out my bio for details. I think two has always been a pretty good number.
8 yrs ago
Fate. It has to be fate. And it is glorious.
8 yrs ago
Words, ever flowing
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Bio

A new chronicle beings . . . Follow along


My name is icmasticc , but you can call me icc


I am a

Gamer | Writer | Technophile


Most Recent Posts

So, we have two new members coming to us.

Welcome @Kingfisher and @ChaoticFox when you guys get a chance. The brings the current active player count to seven--six in the worst case scenario. I'll leave this open for a little longer. If we don't get anymore, that's fine. If we do, I'll more than likely close it off before it hits ten or so.
Posted. Let me know if there's problems.
Planet Luynus - Snoria Bazaar - Early Evening


The Snoria City slums existed as a poignant reminder of a past that had created this exact moment and the Bazaar within was the catalyst that would spark reminiscence. This was well trodden gang land and it certainly lived up to its reputation as haven amidst the Empire--haven for criminality of course. All manner of shady individual strolled from shop to shop hoping to procure items they had no business trying to acquire or tech they barely knew the inner workings of. Even nobility could be found lurking amongst the common thug, spouting their highborn language and fishing for illicit wares in a sea of reprehensibility. The entire surrounding was one constant reminder of how far she came in the years since she left her home. Varrina Mercury, however, wanted no part of such memories.

The resident sniper of the 7-5 dressed in a fitting, solid black shirt under an equally dark hooded shawl. The top was neatly tucked into worn gray sweatpants which in turn hid inside knee-high boots. Long sleeves covered her arms up to just below her wrist and gloves made of a very thin material enveloped her hands. With her hood pulled up, Varrina almost sauntered down one of the more congested aisles clutching a strap slung over her shoulder with one hand and a pocket generously housing the other. A long, cylindrical case attached to the strap and matched the length of her back. She adjusted her hold as she slipped passed individuals she avoided eye contact with and tried not to cough while inhaling the dirty air. Even if this was a mission, it was a nightmare for the master sergeant, but she had been part of the unit long enough to understand duty before desire.

She stopped at a curious stand just as the owner turned his back to attend to another potential customer. This particular stand happened to be selling what looked to be parts of weapons that one could theoretically rig together to create something useful. They were laid out one next to the other with even spacing between each piece and a little plaque that denoted a price. Varrina raised an eyebrow at some of the pieces before turning and looking off into the distance. Her gaze shifted to and fro until she finally settled on one of the towering sentinels that raised well above the Bazaar. A small, darkened grin formed before her walking speed picked up. She had known exactly what she was going to do as soon as the mission was officially handed down. For the role she chose to play, it was always generally the same routine.

Once she emerged from the ocean of ill repute, Varrina began the ascension. She found a set of steps on the side of the building that zigzagged up to the roof--what looked to be some sort of old-fashioned fire escape maybe. It was better than trying to scale the walls at least. Her thoughts began to muddle again as she took long strides up the steps. Her mind flashed to the members of the team who were bound to be in the thick of it. She always figured the captain liked that sort of thing, but she never truly understood it. What was so desirable about weaving through the carnage of battle or even the calm of a silent infiltration? To be placed next to the danger you were meant to eliminate did not seem very efficient in the least. Maybe bragging rights played a part and of course there were those whose roles made them effective at eradicating things up close, but those kinds of tactics were too messy for Varrina. She much preferred the comfort of a good vantage point--much like the one she now found herself on top of.

Wasting no time, she took a knee and dropped the cylindrical case on the ground in front of her. Depressing a flush button, the case flayed open to reveal a rotating inner cylinder which held components that would combine to create Varrina's signature sniper rifle. She quickly removed each piece--a green square lit above each piece signalling a matching genetic profile released each one--and put them together as she grabbed them. This was a ceremony that had been performed a thousand times and, at this point, it had become slightly more than second nature. A mere minute and a half later, the long rifle rested on its own dual bi-pod setup and pointed its sleeping barrel and all-seeing scope through a large hole in the masonry of the roof and in the direction of the Bazaar below. Varrina put a greenish-blue eye to the optical sight and adjusted a few dials before slapping in a modified magazine that held her .50 caliber ammunition. She ended the ceremony by laying down on her stomach and pushing the butt of the weapon into her shoulder pocket. This was truly the most enjoyable, and efficient, manner of combat.

<Status check. All operators, update location and readiness.>

The message came through loud and clear, though Varrina still hated the method in which it was delivered. Of course, she was not fully convinced of the plight of trans-humanism either. Taking a moment to summon her own brainpower, the sniper put her eye back to the scope and replied through the same secure channel. "Wraith, sitting on the southeastern apartment tower and monitoring the situation. Cyclops is ready to go, boo." Cyclops was the affectionate name she had given to her trusted sniper rifle due to the rather large optical sight that sometimes appeared to be a giant eye from afar.
There you go everyone, the first IC post is up!


And I was just looking for an excuse to stay up until the Street Fighter V servers get fixed. Guess I'll work on a post.
Hey guys, I just bumped the interest check so we may get a few new players in the coming days. I'm not planning on adding a huge amount (if a huge amount even become interested) but a few new additions should help spark this up a bit. Just letting you guys know is all.
Bumping this!

We are looking to add a few players to the roleplay if anyone is interested. Just follow this link and read over the OP. If you decide you want to join, shoot me a PM with your character sheet and I'll give you instructions on how to integrate yourself into the current IC. I've also got a section in the OP to see the story thus far. We haven't gotten all that far yet, but we could definitely use a few new additions to our small group. Thanks for your consideration!

EDIT - We are now closed to new players. Thanks for all the consideration from everyone who did so. I'll re-bump this again if we ever need players once more.
@BreakingMe Your enthusiasm is awesome!

@ Everyone else - I'm moving these days so I feel really dislocated when it comes to time management. Just so you know what's what if I turn AWOL for a while. Should be over soon though - I'm nearly done with transferring our stuff over.


Cool cool, it's all good man. I personally hate moving, but good luck with that haha.
@IcePezz - You're fine. My post did just get up there yesterday haha.
Post is up! You guys can just title your next posts "Regalia - Safe House" for location purposes. Once we're all there, we can all get some conversations in. I don't think the group has had a scene together yet.
Regalia - Lex's Ordeal


When no one else made a play to shoot her, Lex crawled out of the windshield. The glass scraped her stomach but it was worth it if she didn't have to crawl next to a dead Snakeskin hanging above her. She got to her feet, still clutching her pistol. The street seemed completely evacuated, which was odd for this part of town, even this late at night. They must have blocked off the roads somewhere. She looked over to The Crest where she knew she'd be safe inside. She started walking over, her elbow still sore from the impact. It was then that she noticed she couldn't feel her right leg. She looked down and saw a bullet wound on the outside of her thigh. "Goddamn, I guess he did hit me." Her sight went black and she dropped to the pavement.

The man across the street watched everything. As Lex lost consciousness and went tumbling to the pavement, his cigarette also fell to the ground lifeless and received a further stomp with wingtip dress shoes. Hand in pocket, the man pushed back his dirty blonde locks with his newly freed other hand and looked both ways before crossing the street. He knew the cops would respond soon considering shots were fired in the open and a huge crash just occurred at an intersection. The few people still out at passed midnight were already beginning to congregate and collectively mumble amongst themselves. "Shit... Better hurry this along," He said to himself. With a brisk walk, he crossed the four lane road and immediately hefted Lex's body and slung her over his shoulder--the man was pretty strong.

About an hour later, Lex sat slumped in a wooden chair in a small room. She finally began to come to.

She took in what she could of her surroundings before she opened her eyes. She vaguely remembered being picked up after she fell but didn't remember anything about the person who helped her...or kidnapped her? She was seated in a chair, not a bed. The room smelled damp. Definitely not a hospital. She cautiously opened her eyes. They felt slightly grainy as if she had been out for days, but she really had no way of knowing. The room was dark. It looked like it was still night so she had only been asleep a short time...or a full day. Her bullet wound still ached like a bitch but she didn't let it draw attention away from her deduction of her surroundings. "Is anyone there?" She called out.

"Obviously," The man replied. He flipped a switch and a single light in the center of the ceiling came to life, slightly illuminating the surroundings. The room was about as big as a typical interrogation room and only contained four grimy and discolored walls, an old wooden table, and the chair that currently seated a groggy Lex. The floor was tile, but seemed like it had not been cleaned in years. In fact, the entire room seemed to be old and abandoned and unused for years. Cigarette smoke filled the air as the man puffed on a longish cancer stick--a Marlboro One Hundred to be exact. Under the dim lighting some of his features could be made out a little better. He was an older, middle-aged man with a worn, rough face under dirty blonde hair. Hazel eyes did not help his weary expression and a scar on his top lip only made the impression worse. He wore a gray suit with no tie and an untucked white collared shirt with brown wingtip shoes; at the very least, it seemed like he tried to dress respectably though he stopped caring about halfway through.

Leaning in a corner where two walls met, he stared at Lex briefly. "Well. Seems like you had an eventful night, huh?"

Lex looked the man up and down. His appearance was disheveled and his voice was gruff but Lex was surprised to realize she didn't feel afraid. It must have been the adrenaline from her wound. She took a breath before responding. "Who are you? Why am I here?" The holster she kept at her back was too light to have her gun in it so her eyes began to scan the room for another weapon. She sighed and wove her fingers together in her lap, waiting for him to reply.

"No appreciation for your own handiwork huh? Shame." The man took a puff, exhaled, and sauntered over to the old table. He took an informal seat and used two fingers to grasp his cigarette. "You can call me Jax. Think of me as an... Independent consultant. So, let's start off with this. You wanna tell me what that car chase was all about?" Jax took another puff of cigarette as he waited for a reply.

Lex cocked her eyebrow, semi amused at the man's casual demeanor. He clearly thought he had the upper hand here. Silly boy. "And why the hell would I tell you anything? You must be new if you think I'll just trust that any information I hand over is information you're entitled to." Her voice slipped slightly at the end, almost betraying a pit of nerves that developed the minute he sat down. Still, she wasn't afraid. She just had to focus on that.

"Interesting. Let me ask you something," Jax stood and pocketed a hand. He casually strolled towards a wall, but he was not really walking anywhere in particular. He made a slow trip around the room as he spoke. "Why do you think you're not tied right now? You know you were unconscious and you know your gun has been confiscated for the moment. Yet, I leave you unbound. You have to be wondering, right?" He paused and glanced over at Lex before continuing without waiting for a response. "I'm not your enemy, obviously. I took your gun as a safety precaution. Can never be too careful these days, especially with the trigger happy. Now, let's try this again," He made his way back to the table and this time leaned against it. "What was with that spectacle on the highway?"

Lex paused for a second. He had an intriguing point. She had been so caught up trying to figure out a method of escape that she hadn't noticed what she was escaping from - nothing. Still, it wasn't like she could trust the guy. Maybe he was doing this to try to warm her up and make her think she was safe. She didn't see a way around it yet. So, she'd play along. For now. "I guess you're right," she acknowledged. "I think those men were sent by a man who...hurt me in the past." She didn't really think they had anything to do with Dean anymore. He was too stupid to hire someone to do his dirty work. But the story was true enough at one point that she was confident she could sell it, even under torture. "I kicked his ass this morning and I think he was looking for payback. He's a douche." She flipped her hair off her shoulder and looked back at the man.

Jax chuckled. "Even if you're lying, I guess it's pretty comical. Do you think your situation had nothing to do with... Well, the drugs you and your group have been selling all over the city?" He looked straight into her eyes awaiting some sort of subconscious confirmation of something.

Lex's eyes opened widely, revealing her surprise. Her mouth went running before she took any time to think. "Drugs we've been selling?! What the hell are you talking about?" She shot up from her chair and got right in Jax's face. "We do not sell drugs and if you believe even a fraction of the information that I assume you've gathered, you'd know that!"

Jax stared into Lex's angry expression for a moment. In truth, he had indeed gathered plenty of information on the Regalia branch of the Ariella Syndicate beforehand, but he needed to confirm the rumors from one of the actual horses. Being the in-house doctor meant that Lex would have the most information regarding any sort of drug sales if there were any. Jax's orders had been simple. He was to follow Alexandria Mason around and find out if there was any truth to the accusations. Seeing her fierce reaction now, even in the face of a complete stranger, gave Jax all the confirmation he needed. He reached into the small of his back and pulled Lex's gun from his belt. He placed the piece on the table and made sure his own was loaded in tandem before putting that one back into his jacket.

"Good. I was hoping the rumors weren't true anyway. Come on then. We have to get to The Crest." Jax turned and made for the door has dropped his burnt out cigarette on the floor.

Lex's head spun at the pace that Jax flipped on her. When he brought out her gun, her heart sped up. He was testing her. He knew all along that she hadn't known about the drugs. His prompt for her to follow him to The Crest solidified her contentment with him. He was on her side. She would have to trust that until she could get to Vee. She leaned over, grabbed her gun and followed him out the door. After all, if he was still playing her, he'd pay with a bullet to his brain.

#


Regalia - The Crest - Quinn Gyles


The last of the goons fell unceremoniously to the ground as Quinn returned to form from a gut punch he had just thrown. He panted a bit and trudged over to the bar counter for support. He stared in awe as Vee finished off the last of her guys. "She won... As per fucking usual... Christ. No wonder I've never beaten her," Quinn muttered to himself half annoyed and half impressed. Erasers were meant to be strong individuals, but most wrote them off because they were not the traditional Enforcer or Security guard. In truth, Erasers had the potential to pack a far more lethal punch than any enforcement simply due to the fact that their job involved making people disappear--cleaning up the messes of others so to speak. Vee had always been one of the better ones and Quinn had even modeled his own style from hers to a degree. It still stung every time she won one of their "contests" though.

Finally catching his breath, Quinn stood fully and made his way over to Vee, grabbing his suit jacket at the same time. "We should probably get out of here. It's better to meet the everybody at the safe house. I'll send out a mass text." He tapped out a message and the twosome made their way to Vee's car; it was nice, admittedly.

Change of plans! Meet at the safe house. You guys know where. ~ Gyles

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