He looked between the group and shrugged a bit, his head turning over to look at the tiefling, then back at Miles. "Traps are not of honesty... from what I see of these traps, they are hidden away to attack some unsuspecting fool walking down a pathway of some kind. To me to attack someone who does not see you may be a bit petty..." The blacksmith would again think to himself, maybe the girl behind him was a trap with those contracts she had them sign, maybe the others were too afraid to mention that they could not read like him.
She could read, maybe she had planned to pull a bunch of idiots into a death trap, his eyes squinted forward to see if there was something off their beaten path. But he did not know what to look for, he looked back at the now hooded figure. He looked to those around him, what could they want from him, they had everything he had. Well but for a few things, and they probably had more. Then he thought about it a second more, maybe he is just an idiot who is becoming paranoid because of some tailed creatures and a probable thug are talking to each other about traps.
The blacksmith just shrugged after his constipated look of distrust and continued walking down the path, hoping traps would not bug him or those around him in the future.
This man stands in with the crowd, he blends in well, and he is something to not be feared of. He scurries around the streets around his home trying to do work for his father or his friends. He is a bit of a cowardly daredevil; he loves the thrill of fighting, luxury, and adventure, but he hates the thought of a consequence and dying. He lives his life on the edge, one that has a nice safety bar and a safety rope around him. He one day hopes to see a world free and happy, where his father's bosses can rule, and Mars can be orderly once again instead of the constant threat of mutants, death squads, bandits, and other things that plague his lifestyle.
When out of town with his father working, he can be found in a redlight district of where ever his father is working, Jackson tries to stay away from his father's work. He still does a lot of it for money, sitting in a corner listening to politics or moving boxes and crates, but he prefers the comfort of a whores couch in a brothel or the countertop of a bar. Sometimes he can be found tweaking out where his father and him are staying, possibly due to the lack of his mother being there. Between the cities where ever they are going, he has some excitement seeing the world for what it is, or seeing the massive cities on the horizon. He desires the adventure that he has, but he doesn't really want the threat of what could happen to him outside of his little world.
When he is home, where his mother is, he is seen being friendly, and less of a drunken whoremonger. He shines as a bright example of who to be, an honest, self-righteous, idiot, who has a lot of money and guns to give to his friends, and people who he feels will work and fight for a 'better' Mars. His tendencies of being an addict to many things seem to disappear in his home, and he seems more like a person than a crazed drug-fueled man. He could probably be a good leader, do something with his life, but no, when he starts becoming a normal person, his father leaves for work with him. To either smuggle something or to barter and deal outside of his respective bosses. But, when he is in his little world, you might find him to be a completely different character then who he is when taken from his comfort zone.
Days-gone Born to a young prostitute, Little Trixie Pixie or Terenda Bello, and a middle-aged member, Willis Vastitas, of the MCA he grew, up in a life of secretive annoyance. His mother found a new source of life, with her new owner and husband, and he was able to live in a carefree environment, getting some decent education, entertainment, and life compared to the counterparts around him. He would still have to work, mainly in restaurants, or moving things around in his home before his father's guests and co-workers would arrive. He wanted to show the family he had created with hard work, and a strict lifestyle could do for the world. It was a lie, of course, most of it was due to money. Willis had a nice young son, who could play an actor in a shitty world, a beautiful wife and out of this world, being able to stay at home, but it was mainly just a ruse to trick people into believing his doctrine worked in this world.
Growing up, Jackson slowly became more of his father's lackey, moving things around, and being an example of what this degenerate world was. He would bring his son with him on trips, and lace his food and drinks with liquor and drugs. It was showing him off to his clients and friends, to what happens when you become just a typical lapdog to roam the streets. What would happen if you followed the in the footsteps of those who entirely walk under the corporation's steps. He would also bring along other small items, mainly just tools for keeping information, but sometimes other more illegal things place to place. These smuggling operations were the dealings with the EE, where he got most of his money from. The transactions were to get some extra cash or drugs that his son could have to make him look like a good father.
Willis did care for young Jackson, but he needed him, to better Mars he would do anything, even sacrifice his son to a hellish life of addiction, pain, and war. He would bring him back to the only person who could calm him, his mother. Trixie was a good mother, caring for her manchild of a son, keeping him comfort after a week of a high that he was coming down from. She kept her scared son from spiraling into a full addict; she held his spirits high, she got him, friends, to enjoy life with, got him his first drink, paid for his first trip to a brothel, even allowed for the whore to come home for a night. Though this would be his downfall as well, those friends just wanted to use him. With him and the money he received, he could quickly get weapons, drugs, food, anything they could want. Mainly small little insurgent or terrorist cells posing as friendly people around his age, although he did have several real friends, his other 'friends' just saw him as a large trust fund to fuel terrorism.
Jackson loved it, however, after seeing his 'friends' for who they were, and learning of their intentions, he decided he wanted more of it. He loved the thrill of such risky actions as helping different MLI cells, even finding that some of his favorite local ladies were apart of one or two groups here and there. He would give them anything if he could see his money go into the world and make a change, or at least fun fireworks. Though, this is how he would eventually get into his dreaded nightmare.
One day, a man was walking down an alleyway to a brothel in the redlight district near his home, one he frequented a lot. Two women popped out and gunned down this man, and two others. The man was a Lieutenant to some higher up in YNIG. The two women were swiftly caught and interrogated, their cell destroyed promptly, and had an idea of who the idiot was who gave them the weapons. A young man by the name of Jackson Vastitas, would soon be leaving home, his gun, a pack, some clothing, some drugs, and plenty of money. He would set off to do a job for his father, a sort of initiation to his father's line of work. Maybe he could make something of himself here, where he and a group of... whoever would let Mars grow out of the ashes and spread its wings once again or whatever job his father has gotten himself into.
Memories
Jackson smiled down at the little cake in front of him; it had been years since he had something like this in front of him. A birthday cake, with his mother usually being a flashy show for his father's clients, co-workers, whatever they were she didn't have time to do stuff for him when he was home. Maybe an hour, which he spent just trying to catch up before either one would cry themselves to sleep, or more work was needed to be done from one of them.
Jackson felt a tear welling in the corner of his eye as he shut them, smiling almost ear to ear as he turned his head to face his mother, "I love you... thank you." he would say for possibly the last time in his life as a small communicator on his wrist lit up. He wouldn't answer it, he would just slowly take a bite out of the small cake in front of him. Bit, by bit, it was gone, he enjoyed every bit of the tiny little cake. He assumed it was some chocolate subsidized thing, but it was a birthday cake, and it was better than anything an artisan could make.
He slowly pushed himself out of the chair, and he hugged his mom for the last time he remembered, and he just sat there until the small little communicator lit up again, it was his father.
"Jackson, you need to get down to the street, I am picking you, I am dropping you off at the depot nearby tomorrow... I need you to do a job there, the first one without me so don't fuck it up." Willis said before looking for a response.
"I will be down there soon... I am just saying goodbye to mom, and thanking her for possibly the best moment in my life."
"Well do it quicker, you need to be there soon before you miss out on what the hell you're supposed to be doing." The older man said, "Two minutes and you better be packed and down here."
His mother had known and had most of his things together in a pile near the door, she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, possibly knowing this could be the last moments she spent with her only child. She raised one of the luckiest boys on Mars, in her opinion, somewhat luxurious living as an actor in his father's games. She lived that life too, but it was better than her previous life, also she was purchased, she didn't have much in the way of what she could do herself.
"Go," a quiet whisper said before a peck on the forehead was given, "don't want to make him mad, I'll clean up and see you soon okay... After your first job, and we will celebrate that as well."
Jackson couldn't say a word, he nodded softly and went into his room for a few novelties and needles, and changing into his out of the city attire, mainly just a light armor mesh with a few plates for protection in case if there was a fight. He had a helmet that he slid over and locked it to the mesh before he moved to his mother and placed his forehead on hers for a second. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before leaving his home with his goods.
He shut the door behind him, "goodbye mom..." Jackson whispered to himself before getting on the elevator down, and down. It felt like forever before he reached the street floor, and he stepped out to where his father was already waiting for him. He took his bag and got into the vehicle, setting off for the depot.
Equipment
IPDW 11SP - The interchangeable personal defense weapon 11 Standard Production is a short-range 7.62x51n personal defense weapon that can be modified in the field without extra equipment. It starts off as a handguard; you can put the bolt carrier and barrel on either side of it to configure as a bullpup, which can be shot ambidextrously, or normal gun which is configured for a right-handed shooter. Different length barrels can be attached, from a short 6 to 8-inch barrel. To a 15.5-inch barrel, and the longest being a 25-inch barrel. A strong but light metal handguard can extend down the length of the barrel, it has the accessibility to have accessories such as a foregrip. On the 25-inch barrel, it goes down half the length to a bipod slot.
Why would anyone want to use such a high caliber round with such a short barrel, no one will know, but that's what people wanted, and that's what they got, the recoil is almost uncontrollable, but it is found effective when using it in groups or in small rooms. But it was given this ability, but the best uses are with a longer barrel, it's as accurate as a rifle needs to be, but can be useful in suppression if needed.
example set ups
The IPDW can be used for many tasks, but the current user typically uses it with a short eight-inch barrel in a front-firing position with an extended stock. It has a straight down foregrip on the front and a small circle reflex sight with a green triangle similar to a modern soviet/Russian sight interior.
Light surface environmental suit - The LSES is a light protective mesh that has several attachable plates and a helmet to create an internal environment for the wearer. It typically has plates that cover the entire body but is mainly used with the chest, neck, and back pieces as the others are seen as bulky. The mesh mainly works against blunt force and sharp objects such as knives. The armor plates are just there to protect against highspeed projectiles, such as bullets. The chest and neckpiece are used to lock the helmet onto the wearer. The chest piece is where a small internal battery is stored for the night vision and lighting system in the helmet, as well as the oxygen filter. It is also the sturdiest and best-protected part of the body; it's pike shape can usually push fastmoving objects, like bullets away from vital organs, and into arms. It is a system that meant to save a life, not an arm when minimal plates are worn.
It's highlighted colors come in several different colors; the most popular are red, blue, and green. The cheapest is yellow.
Loyalties
As the son of an MCA member, he was inducted into the ranks of its members from a young age, but he found that their subtle ways were boring and not what Mars needed. His father would also enjoy doing business with the EE, mainly trading or smuggling goods into a place where he was going to be doing work for the MCA. He decided he would go off on his own when he could and help those he thought were making a difference, or who could make one. His father's wealth allowed him to do pretty much whatever a young individual could want, but he mainly used it to buy guns and ammo to give out to freedom fighters.
Any resources he could, he would give to the different Partizani and guerrilla groups around where his home was. The different MLI groups around his homeland were mainly small, but he hoped that one day they could come together, or do something meaningful. Possibly, he could join one and make his father proud by getting him and the MCA back into a powerful state, where they can put a reign on the corporations of Mars. But for the moment, he gives whatever he can to those groups, weapons, supplies, and money, things to keep them operational, the only thing he can't give out is manpower. That is something he has no ability to get, unless if money can buy it for him. With this, he has some dealings with the EE, not many but he does do work for them, mainly through his dad, just moving things around, going city to city, sometimes even just running things in and out of different districts in one city.
The blacksmith looked to the shoulder that was patted, then to the man, shrugging, "I am sure it will..." he said as he continued walking, looking down to the little dingy sword that was on his hip, he hoped it would be enough, he made that, and it looked like someone took sheet metal, made some blade and wrapped leather around the base to make a hilt. He didn't really know how to make a sword, and that was his best attempt, he made things like working hammers, nails, plates for a plow that was just some little scrap piece forged into a sword.
He looked to the beast-man, or whatever he was as he raised his eyebrow before looking at the girl who seemed to be having a memory fit in her head, "She is scared, and someone who does not seem to carry a knife to stab one in the back. I do not see her stabbing one in back, if anyone else does, it is the restless one or you Miles, I do not know this tailed and horned one."
He thought for a second, trying to figure out what it meant, backstab, "Maybe if she finds a sword, or something to cook with she could stab one in back. Or steal something." he turned to the girl and looked to his hips sword, "this is not good for stabbing in back, it is maybe for slashing, but it is not good at stabbing."
He looked about the group and then at Miles, who had started walking away, "Let us continue... he is correct, the day may be young, but that gives us no right to look like a flower basking in its light." He shrugged and started walking behind the man, luckily he had no idea what he was getting himself into. He didn't exactly know how a man or creature could be turned into something it wasn't.
He moved beside the man walking in the front and looked at him, "So... what did that contract say?" he asked as he looked back towards the girl, and back to the man beside him with a somewhat straight face, "I have little knowledge on what was on it... but I know it said adventure and tomb based off of what was said on it?"
The blacksmith nodded, "I do not know exactly what I have signed up for, but I assume that I will be needed sometime in the future with the band that has formed around the girl Ana." he said as he sighed softly and rested his head against his head, "I may wake up early, but I hate waking up this early."
He watched as the girl walked out and he raised his eyebrow and held up the paper, it was similar to what she had given him, just with an x where the other guy had written it out, and in charcoal, "I assume the tomb... since that is what that paper said, if not, then do I have to sign another 'contract' or will this one also be available for that?"
The group moved and flowed like water through the depressions of the hills, the children either stayed in large packs to play and kick a ball made of and animals blatter around. One of the groups had a few children in it about four in total, three girls and one boy. The boy looked a bit older than the three girls but he walked with them.
One of the girls, one about the age of six held out a small flower to the elf and smiled, "I'm Bem, and who are you?" she asked as she smiled up at her, "Because I think you look cute with your long ears." the girl said smiling up at her.
Hulius just continued to move through the center as he looked up and saw the bright sun above them rising quickly, it was tinted orange and white streaks came from it. He looked back at the man who had stuck somewhat near him, "where do you come from? I assume from somewhere to the south since that is the road I met you on."
Appearance : Short length brown hair,(does have wigs for pony tail or curls for formal occasions), blue eyes and lighter caucasian skin, does use powder to make his skin seem more like porcelain. No mechanical implants. Rather skinny, and shorter (110-130 lbs) (5'2 ft) His shape is about average, or leaner compared to most. No scarring through most of his body, he would seem to be a track runner without thighs.
Typically found wearing white pants, and Imperial Naval Jacket (blue torso with white arms) with midshipman insignia and a small pin on his collar signifying his house. (Grey and black pendant in a checkered pattern) Most of the time wearing white gloves. While on his belt is an issued laspistol, chainsword, glow-globe and data-slate. Can usually also be found with a Data-slate. Will also wear a cloak if he is on a long watch.
Personality : Young and extremely timid, Isaiah has yet to experience the world. Those above him he treats with utmost respect, and those below him and beside him he has no idea what to do with. Can be considered a coward in some situations, but when supported he can be valuable. He is not really adventurous, but he is someone to be in awe at some new things he finds as 'beautiful' mainly galactic bodies (suns that aren't the color of his, brightly colored gas clouds, etc) He does try to do his job the best he can, and if he doesn't know how to do something in his line of work, then he figures it out. Can be reluctant to give information out if something is wrong, i.e. someone missing from the shift or cargo missing. (kid really needs a person commissar with a fake gun)
History : Isaiah grew up in a kind and gentle world in his estate, he traveled the planet some. And lived in almost complete luxury due to his status. In his early years he was taught that the human body was perfect the way it was, but to preserve the family at later ages once proven a decent heir or of some importance. They would be given allowances for minor life preservation treatments. Minor due to the world being somewhat out of the way of most imperial trade routes, so not that high on the economic level. But the planet was a Feudal world, living the ways of nobles, and his family being one lower on the totem pole in the planet.
In his education, he was found to be an extremely good pencil pusher, and therefor was to be inducted as one of the planets bureaucrats. But his father decided he should take a different route, and enlisted his son in the Grand Imperial Navy. It was due to other political reasons as well, such as they wanted honor and prestige from the son, as well as a chance to get him out there to other nobles who may have been enlisted into the Navy, or Astra Militarum.
Once given his rank of Midshipman due to his noble status, he was quickly to be found as an Officer of the Watch while most ranking officers were off duty, and quartermaster, due to his good skills with pushing paper. Due to this, and his abilities with other people, he was found to be somewhat of an underdog. His previous Captain, deciding that it would be better for him to put his skills in paper pushing, moved his station to an actual station rather then a ship. There for he, and the pencil pushers of various creed within the Imperium at the station were to inspect ships, their contents, the crew, and the ship itself while in port and dry dock. To rot away as pencil pusher, lest a crew of adventures were to save him, or he was to be kidnapped while inspecting a ship. Because who cares about some lowly midshipman?
Skills : Extremely good with numbers, organizing shifts, ordering and stocking goods, ammo, and other needed things. Knows how to use basic Imperial Weapons, and chainsword, might not be strong enough to properly use a chainsword without both hands and his entire body. Knows how to cook, and how to get higher quality goods for cooking. Has officer clearance (if believed as kidnapped while doing an inspection) Is extremely perceptive of things in stock, and can find contraband, as well as knows basic layout of most Imperial ships.
Equipment : Laspistol Chainsword Basic Naval Officer Garbs Naval midshipman insignia Data-slate Glow-globe recorder a powerpack for the laspistol
-in quarters shotgun standard naval cloak Flak Weave shells for the shotgun
Member
FourtyTwo
Soldat Elf
The Raven Calls
Fetzen
Hannah
Nev
Kaithe Dame
Harrington
Nallore
