Starlance

Voidhawk (Space Exploration RP)

If you're looking for two more hands, I'd be happy to join.

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

Glad to be finally on solid ground, though tainted by the presence of certain malevolent beings, he let his rifle hang loosely on the sling and helped tug the boat to a safer place. Adjusting his helmet and pulling his NVGs over his eyes, he took a moment to look around before falling into formation. Approaching the village felt like stepping into a bear cage. One with primitive and unusually unpredictable bears, that is. Nodding in acknowledgment at the order, he glanced briefly at the closest building before moving over to it, quickly, but as quietly as he could.

Reaching the building, he carefully peeked around the corner, careful not to stand beside a window, scanning their immediate surroundings before turning around, only to find out that Merlin was already inside. When your job was killing others, some people would find being a workaholic questionable at the very least. He didn’t have to look inside to make a pretty good picture of what happened in there. Moving along one of the alleys, slow footsteps and unintelligible speech made them stop. Smirking at the Captain’s order, he pulled his Glock 17 out of its holster and took aim, the three green dots on the sights aligned, pointing to where he expected the guard to be when he made it past the corner. “I Hope they’ll think it’s just the sea making that noise or something.” The first guard that passed disappeared from Jarek’s field of view in a quick motion. “Mark.” He didn’t need to be told as the other guard casually strolled into view, still oblivious to the three operators less than two meters from him. His Glock barked quietly and the man fell, hitting the ground with a hollow thud. At this range and with an unaware target, it was almost too easy. He pointed the weapon at the ground and looked at the Captain, not expecting any problems on his side. He did not expect to see what he did. He looked back up, returning the pistol back to its holster, as trouble making was probably the last thing on that guard’s mind. Grabbing the second militia man by his ankles, he soon joined his buddy behind some piled boxes.

Following Merlin, he listened to his little speech and nodded, looking over his shoulder to see whether the SAS operator was behind him. Jarek noticed the door to the nearest building was slightly ajar and walked over to it, peeking inside. In the dark room, one could make out the shapes of many bags and boxes. Moving in, he hugged the wall to the right of the door, scanning the room with his rifle raised. Looking inside a few random boxes and burlap sacks, he found nothing but foodstuffs and a box ammunition, most likely 5.45x39 or 7.62x39. Going through the doorless frame leading to another, much smaller room, he crouched beside the remains of a collapsed wall. He observed the larger building ahead, noting the light coming from inside it. “Lights are on, but I can’t hear any sound coming from inside. Could be empty, or maybe they’re sleeping. Or they somehow know about us and they’re waiting for us to casually stroll in. What do you think?” he motioned to the house.

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

Sorry, I wasn't home today, probably won't be tomorrow. So hopefully on Thursday, probably on Friday.

No Escape: Hit Squad

Fair point, guess I missed my chance. You still have some people waiting, so pass my spot.

No Escape: Hit Squad

Can you send someone who stole a cookie to hell too? Because that's technically a sin.

@Nytem4re

True, should have given that more thought. Because almost everything is considered a sin according to the bible, (if I understand it correctly, I'm not too versed in fantasy literature), there would have to be a limit. Maybe a "sin" would be killing/causing serious injury on purpose.

he could probably send everyone on the team to hell then, since they're killing people.

@Nytem4re

I was operating on the premise that only humans have souls. Besides, if he did that, I imagine the team's "masters" wouldn't take kindly to that. It wouldn't make much sense to do something knowing you'll end up crippled.

No Escape: Hit Squad

Ritter Schwarz

Name:
Ritter Schwarz
Age:
32
Gender:
Male
Species:
Demon
Abilities/Powers:

• Ritter can create and manipulate fire. He is also completely immune to fire and heat.
• Though he can be harmed, he is more durable than a human, his perception of pain is dulled and his healing is accelerated, to the point of completely recovering from gunshot wounds within mere weeks.
• Through physical contact, locking eyes and a short chant, Ritter can send those who have sinned to Hell.
• He can make his eyes emit an orange glow. This also happens when sending a soul to Hell.

Weakness/Control:
Control:
Two small capsules of holy water under his skull. When activated, the capsules rupture and the holy water scorches his primary motor cortex, leaving him paralyzed from neck down.
Weaknesses:
Objects originating from Heaven cause him to temporarily lose all of his powers, though their area of influence is only a few dozen meters. He gets uneasy and paranoid in close proximity to churches and contact with holy water causes him great pain and muscle spasms in the affected area. Holy water also causes burns in larger amounts.
Personality:
Due to low regards for humanity, he tends to be brutally honest with humans or individuals he thinks are human. Because of this, many would describe him as insensitive, rude and arrogant. As a servant of Hell, he believes what he was doing before he was captured is right. Though he can usually overcome his anger and keep a calm and collected outlook, once he reaches the breaking point, he unleashes his full, Hell-fired fury, usually with a vicious smile on his face. He enjoys taunting his victims, his go-to way of scaring people being shifting into his demonic form, that being a severely burned humanoid with glowing eyes and unusually pointy teeth.
History:
Working at Action Impact Firearms at Eastpointe, Detroit, Ritter lived a relatively normal life before his capture, although he kept away from others both due to his disrespect for humanity and risk of running into someone with supernatural detection equipment. At night, he prowled the streets, seeking the wicked, condemning their sinful souls to eternal damnation. Unsurprisingly, the numerous instances of people disappearing all around Detroit caught the attention of officials and on that unfortunate night, Ritter was caught in the act. Despite his resistance to injury, the numerous 5.56 millimeter projectiles combined with batons and tasers proved too much to handle and he was quickly captured.

No Escape: Hit Squad

Aline is baibai now though.

@Kimchi

So, does this mean there's a free spot?

No Escape: Alternate History RP/Supernatural

Interested.

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

Jarek held on to whatever kept him from falling out of the boat, hoping the ride would end soon. It was a long time since he went through something like this and it served as a good reminder of why he hated water. Good thing Czech Republic was land locked. Taking his right hand off the rail in front of him, he opened his admin pouch, trying to compare what little he could make out of the distant village with the map when the boat crested a wave, reminding him to hold on tight.

He didn’t mind being grouped with Bastion and Yen. Though the 601st was the best of the AČR, they were still like a poor cousin of the SAS or SBS, so there still was probably something to be learned from them, though he hoped someone else would be told to watch their six, rear guard being a position he’d rather avoid. The yellowish lights of the encampment were slowly growing, the weak lighting working for them as they wouldn’t be blinded by bright lights. The mountain of a Captain yelled something about rough sea and lack of enthusiasm for swimming in such conditions. “Nepovídej” the moravian rifleman whispered grimly to himself. According to the Captain, approaching the village should be quite simple. Once there, quietly reduce their ranks. Like peeling an onion. Simple enough. Than he remembered Merlin’s briefing. 40 to 60 militants. Maybe not as simple then. He strained his eyes in the island’s direction, barely making out the outline of a bell tower. Soon, the other team would be up there, giving their guardian angels a helping hand.

Asteroids Descending

Waiting patiently.