Avatar of Th3King0fChaos

Status

Recent Statuses

2 yrs ago
Current I play both sides so that I always lose.
1 like
2 yrs ago
Can your Father still claim you if the Mail Man delivered you?
2 likes
2 yrs ago
I challenge you to a game of Paradox Billiards Vostroyan Roulette Forth Dimentional Hypercube Chess Strip Poker!!!
1 like
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.
3 likes
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



Primitive: An Zenui




What a fucking day. The moment we left the tunnel a bucket fell and nearly dented Fiske's head. Marceline had been drenched, and now we met a Sirrahi in a dark place…or so we thought. Desmond shook his head as he ran his hand across his face and through his hair. After that we were spotted by some kind of gremlin like king who seemed to try and regard us as some kind of guest. Yet soon enough we found ourselves in the situation of being caught up in a conspiracy to poison the king. I tried to let Fiske and Evander to speak and try to keep things cordial as I figure out why the hell we were sent here.

Desmond began to lean back in his chair as he looked up and sighed. It got out of hand quick and then turned into us now needing to run off and try and find the would be killer. And still I couldn't fully figure out what we were sent here for, yet doing this buys us time to figure more things out and even be able to learn more about this place and possibly why we are here. My first move was to look to Marceline and see if she had kept track of people moving, she did…for a moment, then lost them. Desmond began to look down and shake his head with a chuckle. Me and Fiske were going and ran into a Sirrahi, there we left to follow them as they seemed very familiar with the place. Soon enough we thought we found an interesting lead as this Sirrahi had a strange feel and might have known something about the tunnels throughout the area. We eventually followed them to the shack where we saw they must have snuck somewhere through some unknown means.

Desmond chuckled once more, now remembering the scene and thought how hilarious the whole situation was. So we began to quickly turn the shack upside down, looking through anything as I found cans in the attic and Fiske found a chest with some coded lock. We figured out the code through the use of the cans and found it was a box that used to hold a key. It did tell us there was something in here as we moved the pile of wood and found a door that needed a key. At first we were going to try and find another way until I remembered seeing some mushrooms and remembered my Zeno had a great affinity with mushrooms. She seemed to often use it for different things, as one thing I remembered was her use of it for climbing on, as I used a little magic I picked up, some binding, chemical, and a slight bit of kinetic to form these strange mushroom balls into a key. After using it I made a bit of banter with Fiske as he seemed furious of the situation. Desmond laughs now as he thinks back to Fiske's face being of both shock and anger with a bit of terror mixed in. It took him a moment to come back as he was left with some little giggles before he moved on.

Soon enough we entered the trap door with Evander seeming to find us. We ventured in to find our would-be-assassin, who seemed to be a girl. I tried to play the shy guy who walked in on a girl, using the cover to maybe make her more uncomfortable and give me some room to try and snoop. Which lead to us finding that this woman may have been connected to the assassin. After giving her some privacy, and a minor trauma from Evander's incessant questioning when we were gonna try to give her room to get clothed. Fiske realized that this girl and out assassin are one in the same, as there we confronted her, and she balled out laughing. One of that she was in serious shit, as she spoke, she asked for our help to find out who might have actually done it.

Desmond shook his head once more, Evander began to talk to her and ask questions, I knew he could at least do that, what I was curious about was trying to tie more things together. Firstly, why is this all happening? And secondly. Why do the Sirrahi care. Is it because they wish to be some Great Liberators? Maybe, since it seems class warfare is still here, but now in a more master-slave idea. Maybe that's why we're here. Maybe.


Cold Comfort: Missing Kin




Upon the morning of what was an intense night of drinking and fighting, Marz awoke to begin work once more. The group having seemed to have different ideas on what they should do, Marz had a thought as he slapped Nazih on the back, "
Oi, let's head off to the Golden River. I wanna see what's at the Collapse"
. Nazih seemed to have agreed as he followed Marz towards the wreckage of the town. There Marz spotted something very familiar, a Blacksmith.

Upon opening the door, the two Biros seemed to have been greeted in a cautious manner. There was the old stout and balding smith who seemed to have been aged beyond his years, a young woman with a strong body seeming to share a resemblance with the smith. Then finally a small Hegelan boy who ran towards Marz and seemed to start calling out to him in Hegelan, "Hello! Have you found my father?" A confused Marz seemed to look to the smith whom pulled the 2 outsiders in to see what they seemed to have came in for. The students spoke to the smith, the small boy, and the daughter to find that Hegelans used to frequent the area. Seeming to be mostly novices and journeymen in crafts as they were brought here for some reason before they dissappeared.

Upon learning this and being asked by the boy to find his father, Argor Halghivan, a very renowned jeweller within Hagh Ramorghand, who seemed to come to find someone who had dissappeared like the many others. From what Marz learned, there are 2 possible areas of suspicion, the caves the short long foot spoke of having entered before. The other is the church, as the daughter believes that they might have been involved somehow, both seemed promising, yet they needed to choose one, so Marz chose the closest of the 2, the strange blocked off caves. Once the two students made their goodbyes, they began to head off to the caves Esmii spoke of, there they were met with a sign that possibly said "Dangerous" and "Do not Enter", yet a sign would not stop Marz, it meant nothing to him, especially one he couldn't even read. As the two young men ventured into the cave, they slowly began to feel their magic slightly returning to them, meaning as they move they must be moving away from whatever is stopping their magic, yet as they move they begin to see the many strange things this place has. Rocks seem to float, the ground is slipper, even the air seems to be strange as it pulls against them and almost moves them.

Yet, just like Esmii, this cave seems to almost be alive as it seems to wish to kill the 2 students who are now deep within it. The cave begins to shift and shake, shuttering as pulses of energy overwhelms the students and nearly knocks them on their ass while the rocks around them seem to get vibrated violently and begin to fall. Large rocks come falling as Marz and Nazih begin to run, Nazih began to take the lead while using his shield, charging forward while setting his shield over head to cover himself and Marz from the falling rocks, as they throw themselves from the rocking path to this crevasse. Upon their fall, they notice their magic returns and they can see for just a moment, light, with the use of kinetic and magnetic magic the two young mages launched themselves forward and onto the supposed path that was lit, there they scrambled to their feet and ran another minute until they felt the rumbling stop, there they found themselves on a path with torches and that seems to be travelled, a good sign, yet it was short lived as they heard from behind them:

"You shouldn't be here, this place is dangerous."

Marz seemed off guard yet somewhat not afraid as he yelled out, "By the gods!" Marz jumps back as he spins on his heels to face the figure.
Nazih on the other hand was ready to fight as he spun around and swung his shield like he aimed to cut whatever was behind him in half. Yet like a child his attack was stopped with such ease it looked as if he wasn't moving at all. Once more the figure being spoke, now being shown to be a black cloaked person, "One of you, I can save. The other, I cannot."

"Who are ye? What are ye doing down 'ere?" Marz asked confused of what was just stated.

"We are the Traveler," the figure responded, "and your service is needed."

"What does that mean? What was with the veiled threat?!" Marz demanded

"Not a veiled threat, but merely a warning. I cannot save you both."

"Why should I serve someone who attacks me?" Nazih demanded, not having any of it. "I serve nobody," he snarled.

The black robed figure smiled and shook his head. "It was you who attacked first, wasn't it?"

Nazih narrowed his eyes. "A bit weird for the 'Traveler' to ask someone to serve him, isn't it?"

Marz speaks up once more, now more emphasis, "Who are ye?" Now bringing his hand to his hip, placing it on the handle of his hammer.

"I am the Traveler and you are in grave danger should you continue forward."

"Bullshit," spat Nazih.

With that, the figure backed away. "Good luck surviving on your own," it warned, face still obscured. "This place is sacred to these people and it has been disturbed."

Marz begins to ask, "Why is it that you can only save one of us from what seems to be down here?"

"Because the other one, I need."

Marz' eye narrowed, "What for?"

"You shall see." With that, the figure looked up, seemingly startled, as the cavern let out a deep rumble.

Nazih raised his shield, gathered a massive amount of kinetic energy, and attempted to ram the shadowy being aside. Yet he was stopped in his tracks once more by the shadowy figure, and it was right then that the ceiling came down. Stalactites began falling like missiles from above, the ground shifting beneath them, water spraying in. With rocks coming down Marz and Nazih began to try and use magic to protect themselves as they tried to move, yet the moment they tried the earth underneath them opened up and had them fall in as rocks and water came in, and darkness soon consumed them.

Marz woke up some time later with a woman crouching over him with a rag in one hand and a bucket in the other. She seemed to be dabbing his head as he slowly came to, now seeing that she was dabbing the blood from a wound away. He found himself within a old stone room with 2 people standing at the door inside the room seeming to keep guards. Marz spoke up to the girl as she noticed he was awake, "Ah, what happen'?" She answered quickly, "You 'er pulled from the cave in a bad way, they threw you in 'ere". He then asked the next question, "Where are we?" The woman then got close to him and spoke quickly, "'At is the prolem, we don' know". Now with her being so close, Marz' blurry eyes were able to focus for the first time, being able to see she was in a rough state. Bathed enough, her hair and beard however seemed in much disarray, her beard seemed to be very frayed and sloppily cut, most likely from wear and an inability to properly care for herself. Then there were her wrists, large blocky bands on her arms, and then he noticed on her legs. He rose his hand and noticed the same as she seemed to nod in confirmation as Marz could feel again, he could not use his magic.

Soon they both heard the sound of another man speaking off in the distance, she seemed to rush to her feet quickly as she said, "'Urry!, to yer feet". She extended her hand as Marz took it and stood up. There he saw the door open, where a tall man in dark robes stepped in and spoke with fluent Hegelan, "Welcome, I'm sorry we could not meet in better circumstances". Marz looked at the man curiously as the man continued, "I would wish to let you go, yet we need your help. Only you can help us".
In Avalia 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Time: Morning
Location: Port Vanarosa
Interactions/Mentions: Tanithil @Lava Alckon & Melian @princess
Equipment: A set of sturdy clothing, a dagger, and his dog tags.




Ismael gives a nod as he says, "Ah I see, I would like to see it in action", Ismael gestured as he placed his hand out for the ring to see it in action. When he is given the ring he goes over to the mirror, he placed the ring on his finger to try and see how he looked. From what he understood from Tanithil telling him on their way over, through thought the ring will create a complex illusion around the user to change how they physically look, including clothing.

Ismael took up his hand and thought for a moment to change into the image of character he remembered seeing in a Hollywood film poster. One that recently came out as he was some werewolf like character in some vampire romance film. After a moment, he changed his body and face to look like the character while his clothing is to look something like some fantasy common-ish attire, some blacks and browns and greys to make him blend in with the crowd, the only thing he keeps is the cloak, as he shifts the hood back that was covering his face as he began to inspect himself trying to find the little quirk the lady was talking about.

In Avalia 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Time: Morning
Location: Port Vanarosa
Interactions/Mentions: Tanithil @Lava Alckon & Melian @princess
Equipment: A set of sturdy clothing, a dagger, and his dog tags.




As Ismael felt Tanithil place a hand upon his back and felt a strange energy wash over him. Ismael flicked his eyes about himself and saw what seemed almost a shadow seeming to loom over him. Giving him stealth without needing to try, as he looked to Tanithil and nodded as he listened. Yet once Tanithil showed him his dagger Ismael chuckled and said, "Thank you for the warning. Good to know my guide has sticky fingers".

Once they entered the Odds and Ends shop, Ismael gave the shopkeep, Melian, a wave and a small, "Hello", before allowing Tanithil to speak. As they spoke, Tanithil seemed pretty in his element, while Melian seemed pretty interested in showing off her wares. Once she finished Ismael said with a light gesture to the disguise ring, "What do you mean by wonky?" Ismael wanted to make sure he knew what he was getting into before they spent money to get something.


Cold Comfort


In Collaberation With: Silas Rieger@Tackytaff, Yuliya Ilyanovich Vasilieva @Suicharte, Nazih Iqbal@Ziegenkonig, Esmi’nesta’tawaar@BlackRoseSiren, Yvain de Berbignon@jasbraq, Penelope 'Penny' Pellegrin@Force and Fury, Sven Bjørnsson



Upon The Misty Mountains






Of Best Laid Plans






All Things in Motion






Of Mice and Men







In collaboration: @Product as Katherine Green






Chu-Chink, Chu-Chink, Chu-Chink, Chunk, thump Ow!


The sound of a ratchet can be heard over the wind blowing across the dusty wastes and the sound of music. With it a whistling was heard from the man who was right now kneeling next to what seemed to be a 3 wheeled motorcycle that was put together with many different pieces of other vehicles. The man was right now tightening the wheels as the sound of liquid poured into an empty gas tank. The man seemed to have finished with what he was doing before he called out to his compatriot, ”Hey Katie, you done filling the tank?”

Katie turned to face him, her arm visibly tired from manually pumping the gas from the prewar station. "That's the last dribble," she replied, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Since Desmond finished with the tires, she stepped away from the gas and offered her handyman a cigarette while she took one for herself. Her lighter sparked four times before finally firing. "The bike is supposed to sound like that?" she teased after exhaling the first drag. "This place is pretty much tapped out," she added, referring to the fact that it had been years since the war ended, and these prewar gas stations and highway buildings were likely picked clean by other wastelanders and prospectors over the years, something she was sure Desmond was painfully aware of.

Desmond took the cigarette Katherine offered and gave a nod of thanks before he took out his own lighter and lit the cigarette. He took a drag as he looked off into the wastes taking in what Katherine said. He breathed out smoke as he nodded his head, ”Yeah, I assumed it would have been”. Desmond takes another drag as he seems lost in thought for a moment. He breaks the tense moment with another smoke cloud leaving his mouth and saying, ”Welp, we really only got 2 options. We can fuck around here and think about what to do next, or we can do a quick joyride with what we got left and see where that leaves us”. Desmond shrugs with a smile as he looks at Katherine, ”Honestly, a joyride doesn’t sound so bad to me. Might even be a little fun”.

Katie paused for a moment, contemplating the risks of taking a joyride on a makeshift motorcycle in the middle of the wasteland. But the thrill of the adventure was too tempting to resist. "What the hell, let's do it," she said, mustering up some courage. As she finished her cigarette and flicked the butt away, gave a confident thumbs up to Desmond and strode towards the bike. With the wind whipping against her face and the dust kicking up around her boots, she carefully removed her glasses and tucked them away in a safe pocket on her jacket. "Show me what this baby can do."

Desmond’s grin stayed plastered on his face as he tossed the last bit of his cigarette on the ground as he heard Katherine seem for the crazy idea. Desmond takes the few solid steps forward to the motorcycle as he gives the large fuel tank a few taps and chuckles before he takes hold of the handle before quickly throws himself onto the machine with a solid lands as he looked to Katherine, ”Let’s see where she leads us”, as he lets out a laugh, asa it dawns on him how hilarious the situation is.

The moment Katie mounted up behind Desmond, he looked over his shoulder with a smile as he said, ”Let’s hear her purr”. Desmond lifts himself up slightly as he stamps down onto the starter as the engine roared to life. A laugh left Desmond's mouth as he took hold of the handlebars and revved a few times before he looked back with one last smile as the motorcycle roared and the wheels squealed, launching the vehicle forward.

On the back of the bike, Katie’s blood was pumping with anticipation. The doctor held her doctor's bag tightly on her lap, knowing it contains fragile and precious contents, but is confident she can keep them safe. After she wrapped her arms tightly around Desmond's waist, she could feels the prewar power of the machine coursing through her body. An excited whoop managed to escape her lips while they take off. With her eyes closed tight and the wind whipping through her hair, it felt like flying. As they hit the open road, she couldn’t contain her laughter, exhilarated by the sheer speed and freedom of the ride. It's like nothing she's ever experienced before, and she hoped that tank would last.

The motorcycle purred and roared as the wind howled and blew. The sun was still blazing down, even as it was getting later into the day, the heat was still visible across the desert, yet for Desmond and Katherine, they felt nothing but the chilling wind. The wheels tore up the little asphalt left behind as the motorcycle began to climb in speed as they had begun to find straighter and straighter ways. All Desmond could do was laugh as this was absurd, stupid even. Yet that didn’t matter, they were right now using the little bit of gas they had left and blazing past ruined vehicles, roadways, and…a sign?

"Las Vegas Exit," Katie squinted to read the sign without her glasses. The wind howled in their ears and the heat of the asphalt radiated beneath them, and the two sped past ruined vehicles, crumbling buildings, and towering rock formations, pushing the makeshift bike to its limits. Katie had never visited Las Vegas before, but she had travelled the Mojave enough to know that the road ahead was full of dangers. She was getting used to the wind in her face now, and was beginning to look ahead on the road, scanning for any signs of trouble. Whether it was with a Brahmin or a bike, the caravan life was all the same, and Katie knew better than to let her guard down. "Hey guy!" She raised her voice again, trying to be heard over the roar of the engine. "Do you see a lot of raiders on this thing?" Subtlety didn't seem like an option on the bike, but Desmond seemed to get the message. This was exactly what she had signed up for.

Desmond turned his head when he heard Katherine speak and answered her fair question, "Oh yeah, but mostly they are afraid of-" Desmond's eyes instantly flicked back forward and yanked on the handle bars, swerving hard and fast.

Desmond abruptly swerved the motorcycle, causing Katie to fear he had lost his mind. However, the sound of a gunshot ahead revealed the reason for his maneuver. In front of them lay a primitive bunker made of rusted cars. Based on the size of the thing, only one raider could fit inside, and the rate of oncoming gunfire only further proved her suspicion. Desmond hit the accelerator, expertly dodging the incoming bullets as they flew past the obstacle. Meanwhile, Katie readied the fuse of a stick of dynamite from the back seat. With perfect timing, she managed to throw the explosive through a narrow opening in the raider's barricade just as they zoomed by. The resulting blast echoed through the air as Desmond let off another laugh as if he was just made a fool by fate itself.

As the demolition duo rode further on, it came apparent that the little fuel they had had finally ran dry. On fumes alone they had made it another mile, Desmond sighed he looked back to his passenger and said, "Well guess we'll be coasting from here on, damn. I swore I had a good-". In that moment a loud whistle blurred as their attention was instantly drawn to what seemed to be a convoy of NCR troopers. Many of them were walking as next to them was a large and imposing vehicle. A four wheeled personnel carrier that seemed to have a large gun atop it, baring down onto them.

Desmond sighed as he stopped and turned the engine of the motorcycle off. Leaving about 100 feet of distance from where stood who he assumed was the commanding officer, a taller man grizzled from the wastes and wore a stern face as he called to the two motorcyclists, "What in the sam hell are you doing out here like that?"

Desmond looked to Katherine and said, "Here, let me talk". Desmond gave a wink before turning to the NCR soldier, "Oh just enjoying the sun set as we race across the desert with the no fuel we got left".

The older NCR soldier responds, "Well that sounds like one tough pickle son, sadly we ain't got fuel to spare to-". In that moment a loud bang and pop came from the engine of the NCR vehicle the grizzled soldier was standing in front of as his eyes widened and turned. Multiple soldiers began clambering out as smoke began to fill the air as there a smile grew on Desmond's face as it seemed fate still did favor him.

"Well, if you can't give the fuel, you wanna trade? I get some fuel and you don't get stranded?"

The look of pure anger and shock filled the man's face as he felt as if the incompetence of some fool nearly stranded them with priceless military hardware in the middle of the Mojave. Yet the young man seemed to offer some trade, skeptical the man asked, "I can tell you may know a thing or two with your bike. You sure you can do this?"

Desmond responded simply, "A Handyman can do anything", as he stepped off his bike and grabbed his toolbox to begin getting to work on the NCR vehicle. Just like any other day.

Primitive: Survive




Thrown from one situation to another, from hell to high waters Desmond has been through the wringer, yet there was still more. As the moment they came through to the other side after a teleport, he only had a few moments to recompose himself before he heard the cries of Marceline as she screamed out,"SADNSTORM!!".

Desmond's head whipped around to see the massive wall of wind and tiny stones and seemed to nod to himself as he put some strange face mask over his mouth. Quickly following Desmond set his signature hat on his head which changed his clothing into that of long flowing cloths similar to what many Torragonese men would wear.

He then gave one more nod to himself and then turned to Fiske as he gave one last nod, after which he swooped Fiske up under his arm and began to run in the direction of the strange structures he noticed from his quick look around while yelling, "Time to leave!"

Whilst being carried was quite troublesome, Fiske was however too exhausted to make any kind of snarky remark or joke.... Although a bit of a snarky question was not too much of a burden. "How in the hells have you survived with people like them around? It looks like trouble follows them around."

"What are those?" He tried to sharpen his sight to get a better look on the strange structures up ahead.

Fiske began asking Desmond questions, ones he could not answer well, all he could yell out was, "Survive with them? By doing this!" Desmond continued to run with Fiske for a bit longer before he began setting Fiske down and saying, "You need to run! I can't carry you and run fast enough!"

The moment Fiske's feet touched the ground Desmond and him began to run at full force. Desmond had a strange speed about him, as he seemed to almost began to glide across the sands. His feet kicked hard yet the sand did not move. And when he needed to head down the dune they were on, he seemed to almost glide across the sand.

For Fiske, he struggled, such difficult terrains were already a hard one to cross with no training, including with his exhaustion? He couldn't keep up with Desmond, even with his superior magical power.

The distance between them grew more and more as it took Desmond a full minute to finally see his smaller compatriot was lagging far behind and became concerning as the storm was raging forward.

Desmond did a full heel turn and began to slow to a near halt as he began to try and boost Fiske forward. Yet the distance seemed to only grow as Fiske seemed to have lost all momentum. Closer and closer the sand storm came, and Desmond was slowly making the distance between himself and the strange structure shorter, yet Fiske was still struggling.

Once Desmond made it to the structures he began calling to Fiske as he said, "Follow the light I'm making!" As he began to produce a white flame that once the sandstorm hit, began to burn strong and bright even in the darkness.

Fiske however needed to cover another near 1 mile of ground. His eyes were now being bombarded by wind, sand, and darkness, making even this strong flame nearly impossible to see. His mouth began to fill with sand, his nose began to be almost stuffed full of sand from the wind, and all he could do was walk. His mind was being dulled, as he began to use his magics to dull the pain he is feeling, his sense of smell, his taste, anything to make this pain bearable, as all he could do was follow a white flame in this near darkness.

His feet began to drag as he was moments from collapse, but he needed to press on, he wasn't too far, he hoped, as he looked up, the flame was gone. In that same moment his feet nearly failed him, he felt a pair of arms wrap around him as he blacked out.

Upon waking up some moments later, Fiske found himself breathing through a strange mask, being held close by Desmond as they are in some quickly made cover being supported by the strange structures they ran for.

Desmond noticed and said with a smile, "Look what the cat dragged in. You hungry?" as Desmond shows in his other hand a burrito.

Fiske took the burrito and began to eat it greedily, only stopping when Desmond tells him not to eat the whole thing, and was shown it had the amazing ability to replenish itself, and provided the 2 starving boys plenty of food.
In Avalia 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Time: Morning
Location: Port Vanarosa
Interactions/Mentions: Arlen @SilverPaw, Amisra @Tae, Tanithil @Lava Alckon, and Drosis @Blizz
Equipment: A set of sturdy clothing, a dagger, and his dog tags.




"What the fuck?"


The first things that came to Ismael's mind as he was brought to a new world. He was told so much, informed of much more, told how is all worked, and it plainly confused him. He died? He knew his ticket was up eventually but he never expected it to be in a dingy hotel room. All Ismael could think was that this seemed like some kind of story he heard some of his buddies talk about, it was increadibly jarring for the first little bit, but Ismael was calm. It seemed he was brought here before his death for some reason, and it seems that reason is to possibly save this world.

"Damn, I think I had a dream like this once"


After his summoning, Ismael was given to a group and was told they were not only to protect him, but train him and bring him to some place to learn how to hone his powers. Powers he has gained from being brought to this world right before his death. A strange idea, yet it was one that he had quickly accepted, one Ismael even joked about, and in the company he found himself in, it seemed to sit well.

The time before reaching port was quite simple, he was tested and trained in different regards. His physical combat was often pitted against the lovely Amisra, whom of which seemed to love to try and aim for low blows, to Ismael the is understandable yet it never felt good. If he didn't spar with Amisra, it was with Arlen, a man Ismael found intrest in because of his guns. Flintlocks were quite rare to see in the flesh, sure here it was their technological level, however, for Ismael it was still a real treat to be able to play with one.

If it was not physical training, Tanithil was there to try and train Ismael's magic. Something wholly alien to Ismael, another energy within that can be controlled and produced to produce some magical effect. It was hard to understand, and harder to see results, yet nothing came easy, Ismael knew that. It was still annoying


Ismael had never felt at home on a ship, he may have been a Marine, it did not mean living on a ship was something he was used to. Now on a wooden ship that smelt of sweat, sea salt, and gunpowder. Honestly it was pretty bearable to things he has had to smell before, it was just quite a different life than that which he led, but he got pretty used to it. There was one issue he found, sea legs, he had never gained true sea legs, he didn't live on a boat, he was able to work on a boat, but to live on one is a different feeling. He needed to get used to the swaying and shifting of his center of gravity, something he was able to manage but not something he was used to, but he could fake it well enough to be normal, just don't ask him to run around on the ship at his full speed.

Yet he never needed to as Tanithil had often grabbed him, and today was no exception. Tanithil today came to grab him as they reached port, and with it came a cloak! Once given it, Ismael thanked him, "Oh! Thank you! Very swanky". Ismael chuckled as he adjusted it and listened to the explination Tanithil gave from Captain Morr. Soon they made it near the top deck where Tanithil sat at the stairs before reaching the top deck, Ismael did similar, as he nearly laid himself out on the stairs relaxing and listening. Ismael gave a small nod and a "Aye Aye Sir", when he was spoken to by Captain Morr about staying low and close to Tanithil. Ismael began to make mental notes of what was being said before Tanithil jumped up leading to Ismael doing the same.

"Port Vanarosa hu? Looks like a few places I know". Ismael said this while letting out a chuckle as he began to follow Tanithil to Amisra. There they spoke of some Disguise ring, where one spoke of the possibility of stealing it, Amisra seemed well enough with purchasing one so Ismael said with a chuckle as he rubbed the back of his head, "Oh good, I thought I was going to have to work the corner to get one". Before he let out a laugh and began walking down the plank to the dock while saying, "Well let's go!"

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."





Approaching the first of the three large covered masses, Ziska noticed the pungent, oily smell that stung the nostrils, the tell-tale scent of jet fuel. At first blush, this wasn’t a surprise in and of itself– they were in a spaceport, after all– but most of the fuel tanks surrounding planetary DropShips didn’t carry combustible chemicals. Those ships typically used water as the reaction mass for their massive fusion engines; ethanol and other combustible fuels were typically reserved for atmospheric craft.

Airplanes, then. But why were they being serviced here, and not at the airfield hundreds of kilometers away?

Acting like she belonged, Ziska walked onwards, lugging the heavy toolbox with set gait of a seasoned MechTech, familiar with the burdens of carrying nuts, bolts, and heavy wrenches.

Tarak looked onto the scene and thought about what could be being done. He looked forward and said in a tone only Ziska could hear, ”Wonder if they are worried if that airfield will get hit soon. Either way, seems fun”.

A quartet of NPDRE soldiers patrolled between the three covered planes, maked an approach difficult. Tarak watched their patrol pattern as he gestured to Ziska on an area they can both sneak into without being seen while they figured out the pattern as he quietly said, ”We go there and maybe we can move around like we are some techs. They might just think of us as some eggheads”. Tarak said with a slight shrug as he began to wait for a moment when the guards were looking away and slipping into an area near the possible airplanes. Yet their movements were quite tight, enough so where there was no way to sneak in without being seen.

”--will have your head on a spike if these craft aren’t operational by sunrise! Is that understood?!” The voice was coming from the main path towards the planes, accompanied by the rhythmic tromp of heavy boots.

”Y-y-yes, ma’am,” whimpered the voice of a harried crew chief that followed behind.

At the sound of the approaching voices, the soldiers patrolling between the covered aircraft all suddenly found themselves very motivated to continue their patrol as far away from the approaching footfalls as possible. A risk, but an opportunity.

The once tight movements of the guards slowly fanned more and more out until it opened a large enough gap for them to sneak in. Tarak motioned for Ziska to go first, as he watched the patrols continued. They slowly shifted more and more, as he found time for himself.

At last, Ziska reached one of the huge tarps, opposite from the raging voice that dressed down the humiliated crew chief. Ziska raised the tarp to look inside.

Confirming suspicions, it was in fact an aircraft, and not just any. The main fuselage of the plane was narrow and almost cylindrical, with a pair of winglets flaring out from either side of the cockpit, and a pair of wide, flat delta wings spreading out towards its tail. It was an ugly, ungainly plane, one that looked like it had been built completely around a single gun…which it was. The sight of one of these things in the air was enough to make the hair of any Mechwarrior that had read their technical readouts turn white.

A Mechbuster.

They knew that the Espian Guards already had a squadron of Meteor conventional fighters, but Mechbusters were something else. While it mounted hardpoints for missiles, bombs, and other external weapons, the plane only carried one onboard weapon: a Zeus-75 Mark IX Autocannon, a beast of a gun equal to the cannon mounted on Merry-Go-Round. A single burst of fire from a Zeus-75 was enough to cripple most light or medium Battlemechs, and a well-struck hit could destroy one outright. If there was any saving grace, it was that Mechbusters were notorious for having precious little ammunition. Even then, it made for a terrifying dive-bomber.

”--should already be bearing down on the Green Knights, not waiting for your pathetic technicians to keep fumbling about with assembly and complaining about ‘skilled labor shortages.’”

”Y-y-yes, Ma’am,” the crew chief sputtered, ”b-b-but the laborers being brought in from F-F-Fort Tie Shan haven’t b-been trained on this equipment! We n-n-need time to–”

”Make another excuse, and I’ll hold you down and step on your face.”

”.....m-Ma’am?”

Despite the voices, Ziska made no sudden movements to dart into cover of the shadows. Instead Ziska moved towards the voices. Moving just like she had seen her MechTechs Ziska raised the second tarp, finding another Mechbuster waiting beneath.The Espian Guard were a third string planetary garrison at best. Mechbusters. A pair of Mechbusters, fresh enough at a glance, were not something the Espian Guard were supposed to be able to field. Not without some serious help. And not without some real support by the way of under the table C-Bills.

Tarak sighed as he quietly said to Ziska, ”Seems like they have quite a trouble with these, how about I make it a little harder”. Tarak said as he began to open his tool box and began producing items as he said to her, ”You go see what else they got, I’ll start fucking with this one”.

”--don’t care about your excuses, you simpering peasant!” roared the first voice, getting closer. The voice sounded oddly familiar. ”The Crimson Fists have come to this world to bring an unholy wrath upon those we deem our enemies. And the more you test my patience, the more I’m beginning to see you as an enemy. Do I need to explain what will happen to you if you continue to annoy me?”

”N-n-no, Mom– err, Ma’am!”

”What was that?!?!”

”M-m-Ma’am! I said ma’am!”

Waving to Tarak, Ziska walked calmly forward, trying to get close enough to the third plastic enshrouded figure. The Colonel owed her, she decided. She was going to find out what the Espian Guard had acquired. He had asked for recon. And by the grace of the Magistrix herself, Ziska was going to deliver, come hell or high water.

The third aircraft, still obscured by the tarp, had a different shape from the first two. It was wider, flatter than the two Mechbusters, and Ziska could make out enough of a profile to assume it was a flying wing. Moreover, the craft was surrounded by heavy crates, also covered by tarps and camo netting, though these tarps were festooned with warning signs suggesting high explosives.

Along the ferrocrete deck, a thick fuel line ran underneath the tarp to a large water tanker. Unlike the two Mechbusters, this craft had a fusion engine. If Ziska could just get close enough to see–

“You there!”

Turning slowly, Ziska saw a woman in dark red military garb and a long black coat, the lower half of her face covered by a scarlet scarf.

”Come here,” the woman said, her voice burning with a hateful cruelty. ”I wish to demonstrate to our dear crew chief what happens to those who displease the Fire Witch.”

The Fire Witch, the pilot of the Longbow that had nearly destroyed Ziska’s Raven, approached Ziska, reaching into the inner pocket of her coat. From it, she pulled a length of cord, about two feet in length tipped with a metal ball. With a flick of her wrist, the cord began to buzz with electricity. A neural lash, one of the most barbaric forms of torture in the Inner Sphere. Even owning one was considered a war crime in most civilized nations…

Summoning a face of careful fear, Ziska resisted the urge to reach for the pistol she had shoved into the toolbox. She approached meekly, timidly lowering her head, letting panic seep deep into her throat. She had seen a neural lash before. She had felt the sting as her nerves burned with lightning. What did some soft Inner Sphere mercenaries know about cruelty? She had seen worse. Periphery pirates were not known for their compassion.

But she had to pretend. Information was more important. Ziska would kill. Ziska would shoot without hesitation. A pirate for a mech commander. Not a bad trade. Not a poor exchange in most circumstances.

However, the Green Knights desperately needed information. And the Colonel needed intelligence even more. She wouldn’t make it out of the spaceport if she started blasting. She couldn’t be Ziska. She had to be someone else. Someone afraid. Someone unimportant. She was nobody. A civilian mech tech. Afraid. Uncertain and completely terrified of the woman standing in front of her. She had heard the stories about the Crimson Fists. And she knew the rumors.

“This is the sort of miserable lot your planet has to offer?” the Fire Witch jeered, her voice thick with contempt. ”It’s no wonder your crew is late getting the planes airborne. Had you done your job properly, we would be raining death on the Green Knights’ hideout this very minute. How many days do you expect the delay?”

”Th-th-three days, Ma’am.”

”Three days,” the Crimson Fists’ lance leader growled as she toyed with the neural lash in her hand. ”I believe one for each day should be plenty.”

Before Ziska could even see she had moved, the Fire Witch struck with a backhanded blow from the electrified lash. The steel ball on the end of the cord caught the pirate across the eyebrow, splitting the skin of her forehead. In the split-second the lash made contact, it made an angry crackling sound, pouring hundreds of volts into her victim, and sending Ziska crashing to the ground with a pained scream.

”Take comfort in small blessings,” the Fire Witch mocked at Ziska’s agony. ”A few millimeters lower, and I would have taken your eye. Now then…”

As the enemy Mechwarrior raised her arm for a second strike, the crew chief spoke up.

”W-w-ait!” he spouted. ”I c-c-can’t stand to see my workers punished for m-my responsibility. If you’re going to p-punish someone, p-punish me.”

The Fire Witch regarded him, then lowered her scarf to spit at the ground in front of Ziska. Even in her immense pain, Ziska saw something…off about her face. The scar running down over her eye looked appropriately fearsome, but it quickly tapered off, and she could swear she saw a seam at the bottom…

”Thank your chief for his sacrifice, worker,” she said as she quickly covered her face again. ”However, I expect the planes to be operational in two days now. Otherwise I might not be so merciful.”

As the Fire Witch turned to storm away, the crew chief lingered behind for a moment.

”Sh-she’s not k-kidding,” he said to Ziska. ”For the n-next two days, it’ll be d-double shifts for……wait……who the hell are you?!”

Pulling herself onto her knees, Ziska looked up at the crew chief, letting herself shake with a deep series of sobs as heavy tears ran from her eyes, “I- I’m not even supposed to be here. I was just on leave. I was just supposed to grab some more supplies and then they told me they needed every technician. I told them! I told them I was just a civilian, but they didn’t care.”

Burying her face in her hands and channeling all the terror she could imagine, Ziska cried for a solid minute before looking up again, making sure that her hands were suitably streaked with blood.

“Please, I need a med kit.”

The crew chief frowned; changes in the roster were supposed to go by him in advance, especially around the valuable new air assets. It had to have been Nizitsky, grabbing one of the conscripted civilians so he could slack off. He’d make sure that slacker had hell to pay for it on the next shift.

“You stay right here,” he told the injured civilian before turning back to the Fire Witch. “Err, Ma’am, her injury does look severe. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll head to the infirmary to grab a medkit.”

The masked Mechwarrior nodded slowly, still toying with the neural lash. “Tend to the wound enough to ensure she is not rendered useless, but make sure it leaves a scar. I want everyone this woman works with to see the price for shoddy work.”

“Y-yes Ma’am,” he nodded. “D-don’t go anywhere,” he said to Ziska as the two turned and walked away.

Ziska waited only until she was sure she was alone to stop her sobbing. Practically jumping to her feet, any hint of fear or sorrow was gone, instead her eyes glittered with cold anger. Blood ran slowly down her face. The Firewitch had made her bleed. She’d made her bleed again. Faced with thoughts of vengeance, Ziska retreated to icy professionalism.

Lifting the tarp, Ziska repressed an unwelcome laugh. A gull-winged aerospace fighter, heavier and far more armored than the fragile Mechbusters. A Shilone, a deadly aircraft that any experienced MechWarrior could recognize. The bunker buster bombs arrayed neatly next to it, ready to be loaded, promised nothing good for the Green Knights or anything else that they hit.

Satisfied, Ziska moved quickly away from the three unveiled aircraft. She retreated into the shadows, heading back towards where she had entered the spaceport with Tarak. She had no intention of being there when the crew chief returned. Her story wouldn’t survive any serious investigation or probing questions. She trusted that Tarak would manage by himself. His sabotage mission was his own. She couldn’t help him. Time was up. She had learned enough. It was time to get back to the Green Knights.

Tarak had spent much of this time under the tarps of one of the planes. He had spent a majority of the time rigging the plane for when it was to fire their guns. The electrical signals will be instead routed to ignite within the fuel lines. Tarak hoped that when they tried to take off, they would crash and burn with the pilots. A dream for sure, but it should buy time with one of the planes being down, they’d need to take a serious look at the engineering crew.

Once Tarak finished rigging the first plane he had slowly crawled out from under the tarp and slowly moved between the planes. He saw the scene unfold, as Ziska was bashed in the head by this witch. Yet he could not respond, him being seen is the worst case, as once he made it under the next plane, he tried doing the same thing before, but began to hear the conversation wind down and knew he didn’t have the time. He decided once a panel was open, to shove one of the repossessed tools into a cramp set of wires and pipes, and try to wrench out as much he can to damage what he could. It was a small thing, but it would at least make them second guess what they were working on.

FInally once that was done and he heard the final remarks of each person, Tarak slowly came out of the tarp. He looked to Ziska and said, ”What we got….oh boy, now that is a fun thing, Colonel will love to hear this”. Tarak sighed as he thought for a moment, he knew he didn’t have enough time to jerry rig something, and knew he couldn’t get enough time to do anything without being seen, it was Ziska who broke the silence as she said, “We got the info, no need to start some fireworks”. Tarak sighed before agreeing.

With the assistance of Tarak, Ziska moved quickly as they began to backtrack. They needed to move fast, and little time could be wasted. Their get away was nowhere near as smooth as their entrance, yet that wouldn’t matter within moments. They had to move quickly, and slightly without worry. Tarak was approached a few times by security, he had used his larger body and suppressed firearm to quickly deal with them, not worrying too much about the bodies left. For Ziska, she was able to sneak by because of her injury, using it to excuse herself from the multiple guards moving. Once they had made it back to the maintenance shack the two grabbed their gear they stashed and began to make their way back to their battlemechs.

Once they were able to mount up, the race was on. The Phoenix Hawk and the Raven were both extremely fast mechs, yet they couldn’t fully use it without giving themselves away, so they had to move quickly yet quiet. They had little time before the base would know that an intruder was once there, but it was enough time for them to get away. It was maybe 20 minutes when they began to enter traveling speeds and began to head back to base.

During this escape a direct pulse transmission came through to the Raven, ”I think we did okay”.
In Avalia 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


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