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2 yrs ago
Current I play both sides so that I always lose.
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2 yrs ago
Can your Father still claim you if the Mail Man delivered you?
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3 yrs ago
I challenge you to a game of Paradox Billiards Vostroyan Roulette Forth Dimentional Hypercube Chess Strip Poker!!!
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3 yrs ago
So I realized that the highest honor anyone can get is not to get a Nobel Peace prize, nor getting your name taught throughout history. It's being made into an Anime Character with giant boobs.
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3 yrs ago
So where do I go after Elysium? I just made it through after beating a Chad-dude and his giant burly friend with horns at a break dancing contest.

Bio

About me:
I am an amateur writer at best as I have had a bit of experience writing short novels and stories as a side gig (Don't ask me for help unless you are desperate. I barely know what I'm doing half the time!)

I mostly Rp on medieval fantasy, modern fantasy, and modern slice of life. However, I am always willing to do anything. And I have been roleplaying for about 8 years now.

I have a pretty open schedule right now, other than planning DnDs, and looking for a job. (Still praying that one day I can get payed to play DnD or by playing videogames, but I haven't made a dollar yet).

PLEASE IF YOU THINK I FORGOT AN RP MESSAGE ME!!!! I CAN GUARANTEE THAT I FORGOT AS I WAS PROBABLY PRAYING TO THE GODS OF CHAOS THAT I WOULD BE ABLE TO WIN THE NEXT GAME OF MAGIC I'M GOING TO PLAY!!! (In all seriousness I'm very forgetful and scatter brained, just send me a message and I should be able to pump out that post in no time)

The partners I am looking for right now is people who are chill and relax as well as just some genuinely nice people to chat to and play with. Any style is fine, just be ready as there are time where it will take some time for advanced posts will take me a few days.

Other than that I like to listen to music and anytime someone asks me to do a thing, 90% of the time I will just do it as I just don't care enough. But I will not sing, my voice is garbage and I am not confident enough to even try to learn now.

Most Recent Posts

In Avalia 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


The face claim is Doudanuki Masakuni.
@Jonesy

discord.gg/EAN7WxRw

There you go my brother


Primitive: A Dance in Hell

In collaboration with: @jasbraq as Fiske



"Where are we?"

I don't know

"What is that?"

I don't know

"Why is this happening?"

I don't know

How did something so simple become like this? I can't tell you, but I can at least go through it once more.


Upon exiting the portal created by Jocasta we were told of a strange metal tube that was found with a note. This note was made with a blocky and clean lined text that reminded me of Sirrahi typography. The note was addressed to multiple individuals within the group and spoke of finding some 'Silent Ranger'. It was simple, that was where I think we made our first true mistake. I at least asked Jocasta to retrieve some things for me from my shop, this was much different than what he expected, so it needed a few more things. Firstly, the blue hourglass that we found in that god forsaken tomb. Then, the strange vial that was found with the hourglass, god knows what it is, but being there and both being connected to the Sirrahi, anything might be important. Like that helped with what we are facing.

Once I got the items I needed, we began to head off, eventually finding some strange city within the desert. As like all other things before, we stepped into the unknown. Coming upon the world of the undead, and we never knew it. Once we entered, the sky darkened and we began to feel magic beginning to well, yet when we attempted to fight it, nothing happened, not even temporal magic, so we had to move forward, there was no way else. As they came upon a simple challenge, colors and matchings of 5 different spots. Me and Fiske had chosen to take one spot, and that was a mistake on my part. As now I was stuck with the one coward who would try to trick and fool even the Gods to get away from a little trouble. In that moment when we all found our place, magic began to surround us, and then we were gone.

We had arrived in some strange corridor, it was dark, damp, and had scrawlings upon the wall. Through the use of magic we were able to begin looking upon the walls, and all we saw was horror. Grotesque images of creatures, beings, and shapes, all of which seemed to almost morph and move as we looked, and then, that was when we realized hell was upon us. One of the images moved in such a way to almost seem real, it seemed to shift as it took the form of some strange bat, and then became so real, it looked like it was really in front of us, and then it was. It lept out right for me, flying at such speeds that it could have been mistaken for a bullet, thankfully my senses and reactions were sharp enough to sway back, buying myself just enough space from having those claws tear into my face. Yet, before we could even turn, it was gone, and then, we felt it, hundreds of these creatures. Hell had opened up, and apparently we were right at the gate.

Fiske did exactly as I expected, truth be told, I would have done the same, he ran while using his magic, yet it seemed that no matter how much he tried the damn bats had his beat. For me? I was in probably the worst place imaginable, yet I realized something much worse, my power was waning, and fast. I had used the power Yalen gave me, now the connection was split, I could feel my manas disappearing, yet that meant nothing to what came next, the hunger. God it was terrible. It was painful, it isn't something that is easy to describe, you need to know what it felt like, you need to know what it feels to be starved to near death. What it feels like to have to work without having eaten anything in weeks. It makes one weak beyond belief, yet also ravenous, and I was nearly consumed by it, losing all semblance of my situation.

It was not until I heard the sounds of metal claws grinding upon my armor and it felt as if I was nearly thrown from my feet that I was pulled back. My hands shot to my pistols in their holsters and all I could see was red. My body moved on its own, my armored suit told me where things were coming, it came to my instincts to then how to move. Multiple angles of attack, as the bats came flying at me, one from below, one from my side, one from above, and one from directly in front. I shifted back as I flipped back, setting one hand to the ground and continued it, and even I landed more continued their onslaught. I continued through that flipped then performed another, and then another, I shifted and dodged. Constant attacks, constant flurry of attacks, hundreds of bats constantly barraging me, and all I could do was dodge, But I needed to attack, I couldn’t dodge all day, I will never be able to survive like that, I would never escape or win like that.

So I need to get better. I could not rely on my sight, their illusions were powerful, nearly strong enough to make me believe when they made contact with me that they were real.

I couldn’t even fully rely on my magical senses, nor even my suit as the presence their illusions made seemed to even trick these fine tuned senses.

No matter the case, I had to get better. I would have died if not.

Every dodge I made, every movement, was incredibly wasteful. These large movements I used were sloppy and made it where I had more openings that were then filled by more bats closing in trying to attack. A constant barrage of illusions and attacks made it where attacks constantly rained down upon me, and the sheer reason why I lived was the armor and gear I had made. Their claws could not find purchase on my body, my mask had covered much of my face, the only place I would have any meaningful injuries were on the top of my head. Meaning I still had a weakness, yet I could defend it, and even then I was still struggling.

This struggle led to the need of my very existance needing to be refined, everything mattered, I couldn’t even get a moment to breathe a full breath. These large dodges and dives needed to be refined, they wasted so much energy and gave me nothing more than problems, so I need to use less energy. I began to slowly shift from full dives to doing large jumps and lunges. Turning these lunges into steps, these steps into half steps. From what came to one dodge to half dodges, then that to light shifting, beginning to do 2 actions at once. Taking hits that meant nothing, slashes that found no real purchase, and attacks that slid across me. These small cuts on my armor and gear began to disappear. Finally, I was able to act out this dance I had played in, I was following another’s rhythm, another’s tune. However when I dance, I am the one to lead.

A slight half step back, a slight arm shift forward, these slight movements setting up for attacks. With the step back my arm slightly shifts and comes up to fire my pistol, when my arm is up it continues to move to not allow myself to be winged and I follow the movement to keep myself tight and flowing.. My other arm slightly moves and fires as well in another direction, it did not matter where I fired, nor when, as long as I fired an attack, I was doing something. These attacks may not have hit anything, yet it gave a slight opening in this constant dance of death. Inches and moments away from death, I could feel it, yet I couldn’t care, as long as I was moving, I was living. In this macabre dance between life and death, I am the lead dancer.

They began to attack more, and this dance sped up in pace, blood began to fall, from both me and the bats. Slight cuts began to form once more on my armor and myself. The healing and repairing constantly done by the armor made sure I wouldn’t die, but how long would that even last, I wouldn’t know. Yet I could now feel it, Fiske was near me once more, I could feel myself being overwhelmed and all he did was run, trying to probably hide and failing, Scared and inches away from death, all I could say in this all was, ”You fucking coward! All you are doing is running!”

In the moments where I did not speak, gun fire resounded throughout these damned halls, it left little true time for a response without trying to talk over me. Allowing no defense on Fiske’s side, wasn’t exactly planned yet it helped greatly.

”You chose to come! You knew the risks! And you’re running?! Where to?! There is nowhere to go!”

Another slash came across my back as it was one of the few areas defended by a Royal Sand Wyrm scale. Yet it let off a horrific screech as it had such a high metal content.

”You wanna know that ending?! You’ll die tired! You’ll die as nothing! For nothing! Are you going to die in some hole?”

I continued to fire as more bats came, I swung my guns, using the blades upon them to slice through the air, it hit nothing and could have left me open, and the bats seemed to know that. Yet I continued through to a pirouette using my legs and body to kick and swing around me. Creating a near tornado of attacks that forced any bats near back or to die from a powerful hit.

”What will you do!? Will you die for nothing? With nothing?! Looking like some kind of coward? Dying in some corner because you decided to run!? As nothing more than a shitless corpse! YOU will be nothing! Have nothing! You will never be remembered if you die here!”

Were these cries of fear? Probably. Were these me yelling at myself? Maybe. This might also have been my only chance to see the sun. Maybe it was not to spur Fiske on. Maybe it was a bit of myself.

It may have been the one chance I had. Maybe. Maybe…

Weakness, weakness and cowardice are the only things ever acknowledged from my actions. It is never my accomplishments. Never my compassion towards others. The thoughts of fighting against these things makes my legs shake and shiver.

Never be remembered? As if I will be remembered by my so-called friends if I were to bite the dust here. Soon enough after the Enigma of Ahn-Shune released an array of light beams comes from the figure in the corner, hitting the dirty pests before that heat was used to ignite the bats, making them appear more akin to little flying fires.

I appear from the corner looking annoyed beyond belief. ”Shut up, shut up, shut up! You know nothing! YOU will die as nothing while I become everything!” Tears trailing my cheek as fear appears to still take an effect.

Well. ain't that a show?

Thankfully it opened a moment for me to breathe as I can fight back more, but that too is quickly taken and slowly pushed back into a near maelstrom of death.

"You wanna be something?! Don't make me laugh! With a show like that? Your half assed work? You'll be forgotten!"

Come on Fiske, I need you to do more. I know you can do more, if we are to live, you need to do this. Come on, let it out, get angry, get mad. You're strong enough, use that power hiding inside you.

”My half assed work? You filth! You would never understand my art! It is nothing half assed, if anything it’s double assed!”

During these words my surroundings began to heat up, fire building up before a massive pillar of fire began to spurt from the middle of the room, spurting fire towards its surroundings.

”There! Is that half assed?!”

The heat was intense, so intense I could feel my skin boiling on my face. With this level of heat, honestly my suit might have been the only reason why I was able to stay alive as it healed me by constantly drawing from the heat and radiating it back to cool me and using any leftover energy to heal me. The flame pillar began to swallow the hallway more and more as it became harder and harder to handle, however I had to endure it long enough. I began using more magic to protect myself, even the small area I need to protect was difficult, the amount of energy was just so intense, however moments later, the fires were quelled and left a radiating heat. In this room it was dark and hard to see, however it felt like the heat was akin to being directly under the sun itself. Once I made a light I saw the carnage left over, bats charred and boiled beyond recognition, the sickening sound and smell of boiling fat. Then I saw Fiske’s face, he seemed almost about to break down.

”That’s a little better. You did good.”

I set my hand on Fiske’s shoulder, ”Let’s get out of here. No one will know about how good that was if we don’t leave”.

As if in a daze, my response was somewhat delayed. ”Yeah… Let’s..”

I caught Fiske and began carrying Fiske as we slowly followed strange illuminated arrows that I remember seeing on the tube Jocasta had. Is this a trap? Probably, but what else can we do?, This was a strange place, with strange images on the tunnel that seemed to make no sense, yet because of Fiske, it was calm. After a little longer we finally reached a door, and it was time to figure out what was on the other side.

I hope it’s a warm meal. I’m starving.


Primitive: Fight or Flight




Desmond looked to Yalen, as the younger man spoke to him about bringing the others back safe, Desmond smiled and said, "Of course, you talking like-", Desmond instantly clenched his teeth as he felt an energy begin to work it's way into him, at first he fought it and nearly broke the connection. He had felt this energy multiple times now, as it was something he was familiar with at this point, a Command. Desmond then heard a word leave Yalen's mouth and sighed, it seemed it was a friendly Command. Desmond felt himself nearly break the connection, yet allowed it to go through, as he heard the priest roar to life and so too did Desmond's own manas and power.

It was something Desmond had now felt countless times, an over flowing of mana that well exceeded his own natural amount. Yet it also felt uncomfortable, he could feel his body shift, his blood vessels expanding, his heart beating harder and faster, he could even feel slight tinges of pain here and there as the amount of manas swelled and almost blocked blood flow. He let out a sigh as he said, "This feels weird, but thanks, this should do some good then. I'll make sure they come back". Desmond gives Yalen a nod and a pat on the shoulder before he looks to the others, preparing to leave. Desmond drew from his own gravity and began to float while saying, "Let's go save some damsels".

Desmond had made it to the fight around the same time Benedetto did, using Chemical, Kinetic, and magnetic magic to increase his propulsion. Yet he was met with a sight, a Royal Sand Wyrm just staring down onto them, as he was caught up on the gist of the situation and then ordered to do something, he said one thing, "Ayla, why are you always trying to tame everything we find?" It seemed most others were in agreement, taming it was the least of their priorities, as the moment the beast was given some food from Jocasta it left, allowing them to head into her portal with the Rangers, allowing them to maybe find where the temporal ripples are coming from. Desmond agreed and began to enter the portal saying, "Time's a wastin'. If we wanna find out who sent that beast at ya, we better start where the Ranger says it might be".


Cold Comfort




Upon stepping through the portal, Marz was mostly equipped for travel, little did he know they arrived in a new city. Upon meeting the two lovely women, he noticed something about their accents, as Marz' face seemed to scrunch as he looked around, realizing where they were, Hoch Dorumvir. "As always, never a sight of-".

In that moment Marz felt someone fall onto him, he stood firm like a wall against the wind as he barked out, "Oi! Why ya pushin'?!" Marz finally turned to see, multiple people nearly pushed over by their teammate returning to them, and all Marz said was, "Damn, didn't expect to see you so soon".

During their time being guided by the Hegelan ambassadors, Marz noticed many things, and called much of it out. Many shops seemed to be selling items and goods, some of moderate quality, most were shoddy at best, yet worst of these sellers was what they asked for their poor quality items, "40?! I could crap out one for 13! Are you really regulated? I'm pretty sure this was something you had your child make and now you are trying to offload onto some sap!" Marz couldn't even make it through the mercantile district without nearly a fight breaking out, as someone tried to call him a fake craftsman. Which lead them to head to the bunkhouse that was for outsiders.

"Dat's awful, it's like we're right next to the stables-oh so we are". Marz was covering his nose as he was looking around. He shook his head once the talking seemed done and he decided to leave to investigate the city, he was always curious about some of the city's architecture, but more importantly, he was curious about the crafting within the city. So he turns back to the mercantile district ready to either see some of the works there, or get into a fight.


Primitive: Into the Fire






Desmond felt himself get thrown through space and time with great force. However falling through the air hasn't been something too strange to Desmond, as Desmond began to manipulate the energies around him. Using kinetic magnetic magic around him and on himself to manipulate himself to slow his fall, and then his own physical finesse to flip himself through the air and allowed him to land gracefully on his feet.

Desmond took a solid step forward and then a lighter step before he now found himself meeting the eyes of Yalen and Isabella as they were told it was a Sand wyrm. Tku seemed worried Jocasta facing the Sand Wyrm, and Benedetto seemed to take notice of Ayla and Zarina being gone as well.

Desmond nodded as he began to check his items and thought, Why would it be here?

Desmond thought why that Sand wyrm could be here, they are dangerous creatures, he knew that much, but why did they show up next to one? Was this on purpose? Is someone trying to spook them? Desmond thinks it might be since they maybe near that area Harrachora spoke of, which should have been made by the Sirrahi. From what Desmond remembered they found a hungry Sand Wyrm in a tunnel attached to what Desmond had speculated to be a Sirrahi ruin.

Maybe they were very near the Sirrahi area that the group would be speculated to perish in. Maybe this was the warning to leave. Or, they were teleporting nearby and producing one of those same portals he first saw from the Disskas, either way, they were close.

Once Desmond had finished his weapons checks he says to the others making a light notice towards Benedetto, "Let's go to them, we need to make sure they are okay. if this thing is anywhere near as strong as the one we faced before we will need to have all hands to take it down".


A Cryptic Message



Desmond had spent much of his year in Ersand'Ernise quite productively. He had constantly been putting things into motion, funding new ideas and projects that will eventually bear fruits. Yet there were times he needed to let off steam. Most of the time it was him doing as he pleased, yet on days when he needed to be in the Arsenal, he had often gone to the river near Blackfield Arsenal and ate there. At one such time, while catching a quick bite to eat and idly inspecting one of his rifles, he noticed something sticking out of the end of the barrel. It was...a paper.



A smile grew on Desmond's face, as he knew what this meant. A new adventure awaited, and he was wondering when they were going to be called on again.

Upon the day when the message asked them to meet Desmond steps through the portal to Hogh Munkhelad, a place he was mostly used to at that point. When he entered he waved hello to the people he cared for as multiple were people he had worked with before, or he had some relations with.

However, he had a few new members join him on his adventure, first was Henry the giant happy Dragonhound with his favorite stick. Billium, the cute Fireboar with a happy attitude, likes to play with most animals he sees. Then Desmond's newest companion, Ani, the Firetail dragon whom Desmond had caught from the wild, tamed, and now lives with him as one of his lap dragons, she is a diva and knows she is the most beautiful dragon here.

Desmond took notice of those around as he began to sit down to start checking what he brought with him, yet he began to hear someone speak out, Evander. Desmond took notice of him and instantly took notice of the conversation that he had made with Dory. More like accusations and aggressive prompting. He asked multiple questions upon what Dory has done, how did she bring Manfred back to life from death, and in that moment a fight began. Manfred stepped forward to defend his lady's honor as he went to punch and Evander dodged as they began to fight.

Desmond saw his animals instantly rear up and were prepared to attack, yet he let out a quick and sharp whistle that only his animals could hear as they heeled as Desmond stood up and checked with Dory. She seemed shaken as he spoke to her, yet in that moment, they felt Benedetto appear and showed that 3 men, the 2 nobles were nothing to the commoner with 9.0 ras. Desmond and Dory sighed in unison, as the possible bloodbath was averted. Once it was done, Desmond comforted her a bit more until Manfred returned.

As the fun came to an end, people returned to some of what they did, yet before anyone got comfortable, a bird flew by and grabbed their attention.

Desmond stood and marched forward with the rest of the group, taking command over his animals once more as they went into the great unknown.




They appeared in a dark and empty place, as Desmond, Ashon, Evander, and Ymiico. Here Desmond and Ashon began to rib and make fun of Evander. Desmond had no clue for why Ashon had such beef yet Desmond wished to poke back at Evander in a way where only words could be played. Desmond wanted to poke and prod him, as he was trying to either make fun of him or make Evander swing. Yet Ashon seemed incredibly vicious and yet, Evander only made a few snide remarks back. Small and simple things.

Even with these opposing forces, they were able to perform the puzzle and meet the expectations of the eminent Arch Zeno Karan Harrachora, whom was playing with Henry by throwing Henry's favorite stick.

Yet even with this funny scene, when it was time for business, it was intense. Missions were given, as 2 sets of groups left. Leaving a strange band of people, their mission? Rescue a group of people consisting of, Isabella Lowell, Zarina Al-Nader, Marceline Hohenfelter, Ayla Arslan, and Jocasta Re from what is a fate that was certain death.

Isabela and Marceline may not be the strongest, yet as tethered and decent enough mages they are hard to beat. Ayla Arslan was a skilled mage, and with some time and assistance, she has shown quite some growth as a mage.

Yet why send Evander, Desmond, Tku, Fiske, and Benedetto. Desmond may be a strong combatant and an intelligent man, yet his RAS was nothing special. Tku was an average mage with no background in combat. Evander and Fiske were both strong individuals yet fighting was the least of the priority. Benedetto was the only one who could possibly swing on the same level as Zarina Al-Nader who has Dragon blood running through her, and Jocasta Re who by all intents and purposes was on the path to becoming as strong as Hugo within her life.

What could go wrong?
Task Force Charlie: Recon Between Friends


"Mission Charlie: the spaceport near the capital city of Balya Gora has been under the control of the NPDRE, but some transmissions indicate at least one DropShip has arrived from off-world since the coup. It is very likely that whoever the Crimson Fists are working for, they're also providing new hardware for the Espian Guards. We need to know what is coming off of that ship, and who is sending it to them.

"Task Force Charlie will consist of Alley Cat and Desperado. The Raven can scout out the spaceport at range, with the Phoenix Hawk providing cover if needed. If a full scan of the spaceport proves not possible from a distance, or there is no approach without giving away your position, ditch the 'Mechs somewhere safe and approach on foot. Your priorities are to get sensor scans, photographs, captured documents, anything to give us an idea of who is supplying Federov and his cronies, and what they're sending against us. This is strictly reconnaissance, so do not engage the enemy unless absolutely necessary."


Ziska had listened to the Colonel’s briefing with the carefully cultivated disinterest of a professional soldier. Which wasn’t disinterested so much as the open mind required to fully absorb the complex information doled out by command. At least that is what she told herself. Some monk had told her that. Some washed-up MechWarrior spouting Zen Buddhist catechisms. Hiding behind four walls, growing a wizardly beard, and cultivating a spirituality Ziska had found grating. She’d just wanted a place to sleep, not a lecture.

Tarak listened to the briefing and collected the brief information he needed for his mission. Even if it seemed simple he had a bad feeling about the operation, for some reason, there has been a lack of annoyance with the briefing, so obviously, there is going to be some catch. Tarak looked to Ziska, ”Well guess we are going to be running recon,” Tarak said with a chuckle as he began to leave to prepare, ”-make sure to bring a coat. Might get a little cold”.

“What is a little reconnaissance between friends?” Ziska pantomimed in reply, as she stalked out of the room in search of someone else’s jacket to borrow for the mission. There was too much blood on the jacket that Kesi had wrapped her in following the good doctor’s careful administration of antibiotics and a neat line of stitches.

Tarak shook his head and laughed as he left to collect his own equipment, he grabbed his combat gear from his small sleeping area. His arms, his warm clothing, his boots, and gloves, with his bag and gear. Once finished, Tarak loaded up, as the long road to the spaceport begins.

Noise. Noise. Noise and more noise. Ziska swore loudly in the cockpit of her battered, but functional RVN-3L Her techs had done some proper work. A combat rush job, no doubt, but an exceptional one at that. A few loose armor panels, a few grinding joints, and striped paint were nothing. Nothing given the damage she had taken from the Crimson Fist Longbow. She had paid them back though. Scratch one RVN-3L. Scratch one Crimson Fist pilot, probably. Something was interfering with the souped-up sensors of her bleeding edge war booty and Ziska didn’t like it. In fact, she hated it. She couldn’t burn through the jammer. Not unless she wanted to paint a giant target on her and Tarak. Mech. Spaceport. Ground-based Vehicle. Aircraft. The options were endless and they didn’t have time to sit around measuring radar emissions. Not anymore, they’d waited long enough already.

Tarak sat in the cockpit of Black Phoenix, leaning back after he ran basic diagnostics while waiting for a callback. He sat and waited, again and again, he just tried to keep himself busy while he was on watch for Ziska. Tarak eventually called out to Ziska on a direct pulse transmission, ”Aye, got anything? We sit here too long our mechs might be turned into landscape”.

“Jamming,” Ziska practically hissed back, making no effort to hide the disgust and annoyance in her voice. “ECM, but I can’t ID it. Could be a BattleMech. Could be a combat vehicle. Or hell, it could even be some souped-up ECM setup some busybody had time to set up to blanket the spaceport. Fancy a midnight stroll? I know, I know, you’re busy trying to win the heart of the utterly immaculate Miss Wyatt, but you’re not going to make much progress attaching yourself to the corporate nobility if we don’t bring back any intel for the Colonel.”

Tarak sighed as he began to adjust his gear, lacing his boots, and tightening his jacket as he took off his cooling jacket. Tarak pinged back to Ziska, ”Eh, I’m always ready for a midnight stroll, just hope that lovely Miss Wyatt won’t be too jealous of another woman taking me on a date before she does”. Tarak chuckled before he adjusted his helmet, ”Let’s get going, don’t want our entire convos recorded, Colonel might have an aneurysm on the playback”. As Tarak began to scout for a good place to hide away their mechs.




Stepping into the cold, Ziska pulled the jacket she had borrowed from Kan tighter. The leather jacket was worn, but comfortable, and smelled faintly of lavender. Kan was too nice, Ziska reflected. Too calm. Too Free. Ziska could never quite understand how the Capellan woman had decided repairing BattleMechs was her calling in life.

As she moved, a strange change took hold of the MechWarrior. Her banter ended. Her eyes shifted instinctively across the surrounding landscape, never settling, always looking. Ziska moved slowly, and efficiently, each step, quieter than the last.

Minutes of walking later, the two dismounted MechWarriors stood at the edge of the shrub forest. Crouching low, Ziska laid down on her stomach, edging forward until she found a small break in the foliage. From her combat pack she brought out her rangefinder binoculars and wordlessly watched.

The spaceport was busy. Transport vehicles were darting to and fro, laden with heavy crates. Laborers, tiny bees even with the rangefinder binocular magnification, buzzed around, busying themselves with matters of logistics. Ziska let out a low breath, a busy spaceport was what she wanted to see. Busy was good. Busy meant that unfamiliar faces would stand out less. Busy meant deadlines. Busy meant everyone was too busy to pay attention.

Tarak crouched next to Ziska as he stood on guard, his heavy gear that normally made him seem like he had a death wish came in handy today as he was covered from head to toe against the cold. He had his rifle in hand as he made sure the coast was clear, then he went right next to Ziska and put his hands over his eyes and made fake binoculars with them as he said, ”I found snow, rocks, a big cat eating a rodent. So I guess I found dinner if this goes for long. What you got cat?”

Ziska shot an amused look at Tarak from the corner of her eyes, keeping her gaze locked in the viewfinder port, “Three objects. Big. Very big. Vehicles it looks like, maybe aircraft. Can’t really tell, everything is covered by tarps. They're either very lucky or they are trying to keep things stealth.”

Handing the rangefinder binoculars she had ‘recovered’ from a dead NPDRE officer, Ziska bristled with irritation. “Take a look, maybe you can spot something. Otherwise we might have to get closer.”

Tarak takes the binoculars as he said, ”Let’s hope I can see something your beer goggles can’t”. Tarak began to look as he saw much the same, 3 large objects, each covered by tarps. He saw how a couple of hands passed around it, yet just their luck, it was mostly technicians who neared there. Tarak sighed as he lightly passed the rangefinders back, ”Well, looks like we’ll need to get closer. We can take out some eggheads and sneak on in. Get close on those 3 mysteries, take some pictures, and maybe if we get lucky do some acquisition of a couple of things. Maybe even see if they left keys in the ignition?” The last thing made Tarak smirk as he turned to Ziska.




Tarak and Ziska both set off down, taking a bit of a short yet steep and shadowy path, allowing them to dodge a few of their spotlights. Tarak and Ziska took similar paths down, they pushed their way over to what seemed to be a terminal area where they found a technician working on a panel outside of a small shack. Tarak looked to Ziska and gestured to himself and to the tech as he began to make his way closer to the technician. Once Tarak had made it close he quickly kicked the technician’s knee out from him and grabbed his head with both hands before he shifted the man to one side before he took a grip of their hair and the bottom of their jaw before pulling both violently to force their head to turn in a strange way and snapped the neck instantly. A clean kill, Tarak set them next to the shack as he turned and gave a thumbs up to Ziska before he entered the shack.

“Dead men tell no tales, I suppose,” Ziska said indifferently. What was one more body? What was one more casualty? War was war. Innocent or guilty, it didn’t matter.

Following Tarak into the corrugated metal shack, Ziska smiled at their good fortune. Tools. And spare jumpsuits. Props for their deception. She didn’t bother waiting and tossed her jacket aside, stripping out of her clothes, and zipping into a mech tech jumpsuit that looked sufficiently used. No name. No rank labels. Perfect for a civilian. Which she was. They both were. Just simple technicians trying to get a difficult job done.

“Ready?” Ziska asked, holding a toolbox in her hand with some authority, her pistol stuffed carefully within, glancing through the door that she faintly cracked open.

Tarak was in a tight fit for his suit, yet he had fit well enough in. He slid his gear within his own toolbox, a pistol within, a photography device, and a few stray wires and circuits in case they find certain items. Tarak looked to Ziska with a nod as he said, “Eh, as I’ll ever be”. They both began to make their way out, in search of shinies, their first target is going to try and see what is under the tarps and go into the storage bays, while trying to avoid any real detection. Tarak is a sore thumb, so he decides to try and stick a little in the shadows, his height makes him very easily seen.
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