PokéFiends |
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PokéFiends is an open and expansive multi-region Pokémon roleplay that welcomes both canon and original characters. From the regions in the main games, the anime and side games, and even a bit more, you can travel anywhere. Be wary, a darkness lurks in the night, a sinister creature haunts the edges of the moonlight. Turmoil brews, traveler, so take your first step with caution. |
Four months ago, terror held the world in stand still. The attacks on both Saffron and Castelia have concluded... and despite the growing darkness, the people of the world band together to throw an event in the spirit of world unity and the courage to stand against this new foe.
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The season is currently Spring. There winter snows have thawed and new growth springs up across the world. Periodically, chill remains in the air, but never for long does it hang about. |
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| A First Meeting | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 26 2012, 09:25 PM (890 Views) | |
| MizuJakkaru | Jun 26 2012, 09:25 PM Post #1 |
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Believe in you, who believes in yourself.
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The first thing Kayzen had noticed was the smell. That crisp, almost chemical, fresh but slightly unpleasant smell of new paint. Everything about these islands smelled of new. Granted, it was because everything on these islands was new, but that didn't change the fact that it was there. She ignored it, of course, but for lack of the other two members of the detail she had been assigned to, it was one of the trivial things that flocked around in her mind... The other being that this conference room was a heck more state of the art than anything she'd ever fuckin' seen back home. There was a glass panel in the middle of the table (large enough to seat four and two, with two seats on each side and one on each end). The panel glowed with electrical light and showed a white lined map of the world. Red points of light marked capitals and league seats. White pinpoints marked major cities. She walked around it, having yet to sit down. The gopher that had brought her here stood by the door, arms behind his back. She dissected the thing with her eyes. It looked like American tech, sure, but there were things about it that screamed foreign. What she'd give to have an hour alone in this room with her computer tool kit and her journal. Again, just shit she occupied her mind with while her impatience began to mount. They had said to be prompt. And, fuck all, she was early. If the military taught her one thing, it was that being early was being on time. Being on time... was being late. She sighed, leaning against the wall. The uniform she wore was Seafoam, the ranks she wore reflected the rank she had held in the US Navy. It had actually been a lot less paperwork than she had believed it would be to transfer here. They had given her something like a visa, to be upgraded to a citizenship, should she want it to be, at the end of her military service here. She had already been here two weeks or so, just under that. She'd settled into the housing here (which also smelled of damn fresh paint) and even scoped out the graduation of the first bit of Seafoam's own military earlier this day. It was now early afternoon and she had returned to Oceanus and received notice that she would finally be informed of her assignment here. Two fuckin' weeks here and they had yet to bloody assign her. If she didn't know any better, she'd say it smelled of secret squirrel shit. She finally sat at one of the side seats and took to examing the screen again. She reached out to test if it was touch-controlled and wasn't surprised to find it was. Right. She cracked her knuckles and got to work messing with the map's inner workings. The gopher at the door twitched, looking like he was going to ask her not to do so. She flicked her eyes to him and grinned a "look at all the fucks I give" smile. If she was going to be bored and impatient while waiting for whoever was supposed to be here too, then she was going to mess around with this computer, damn it. |
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| Rookie | Jun 26 2012, 10:22 PM Post #2 |
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The Orange Death
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The hallways were so clean that they sparkled. And not in the metaphorical sense, either; they actually, no shit, gleamed. It was readily apparent that this facility was brand-spanking new. Vince strode through the corridor, boots squeaking on the tiles. He was surprised at how good it felt to be back in a uniform. He had expected it to be nice, but he almost felt like his old self. It was a refreshing change of pace. The uniform looked like some of the ACU patterns that he had seen used in Afghanistan. Tans, browns, and greens blended together in a pattern that, unlike the US Army-standard digicam pattern, actually worked in a mountainous region. He had to wonder at how well it would work here in the tropics, but he doubted that he and his unit would be wearing these fatigues on-mission. All the same, they were spotless. Not a single thread was out of place and his name tape, branch tape, and rank patch, three chevrons above three rockers, appeared to have been placed with near-atomic precision. The only part about him that didn't scream "career military" was his haircut, which far-exceeded military standards. Being an Operator had its perks. Luke walked silently at his side and displayed the same amount of military bearing as his trainer did. He was freshly groomed and well-rested. His fur gleamed under the lights and his spikes had been polished to a fine sheen. Vince was surprised to see people already in the conference room. His conference room. Luke, being psychic and all, was not. He shot a questioning glance at the young man by the door. The guy was taller than him, sure, but Vince had experience and rank on him. The guy got the scared "I'm-Just-A-Joe" look in his eyes. He didn't know anything. Vince waved him off without a word. The woman playing with the display was more important. Vince crossed his arms and cleared his throat. "You looking for anything in particular, or do you just enjoy getting fingerprints all over my Tac Display?" That was why he hated touch screens: they always looked like a bag of ass after someone used them. |
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Bajur, beskar'gam, ara'nov, aliit, Mando'a, bal Mand'alor an vencuyan mhi. The Resol'nare (Six Actions) Build a man a fire and you keep him warm for a day; set a man on fire and you keep him warm for the rest of his life. Just your average, ordinary, everyday state-sponsored sociopath. William Blackmoore IV | Josef Totschläger | Vincent Miles | Leonard Testarossa | Lee Ji-Eun | Jefferson Wyrzykowski | |
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| MizuJakkaru | Jun 26 2012, 10:51 PM Post #3 |
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Believe in you, who believes in yourself.
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Kayzen had just set the display to show the location of their current room. Fucking thing was even capable of a glow of infrared. Which mean she wasn't too surprised when Vincent walked through the door. She paused what she was doing, wiped a hand over the display and reset the controls. The map reset to the world stage, the faint glow of cities and leagues returning. The woman sat up straight and tilted her head down in recognition of him. Her eyes swept over his body and uniform, taking in the details. She didn't even hesitate to take in the scar marring the half of his face. Everything told a story. She then glanced to the side door as Joe bitched out at the appearance of the other man. That meant that the gopher was comfortable enough leaving the room with the man likely in charge of it. Something that the man's insignia and statement proved definitively Kayzen stood and offered her hand in greeting. "You must be in charge. Can't say much about the fingerprints, though. Matte screens don't hold them too much." That Texan drawl was unmistakable. Nor was the fact that she remained unabashed in the wake of his nettle about her fuckin' with the screen. She was the techie, she was going to always be the techie, she wasn't going to be anything but that, his attitude be damned. |
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| Rookie | Jun 27 2012, 03:15 AM Post #4 |
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The Orange Death
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Now this was interesting. Officers that didn't flip shit at the first sign of an enlisted man openly challenging them wasn't something Vincent was used to. The girl looked young - she was probably fresh from whatever training school she had gone to after Basic. He noted the way she looked at him. Analytical. She took in every detail that she could, from his head to his boots. He was impressed that her gaze didn't linger on the ragged scar that took up almost half his face. He extended his own hand and gave hers a firm shake. "That I am, ma'am." He wasn't about to apologize for - justifiably, in his mind - getting irked about her messing with his equipment. "I'm Master Sergeant Vincent Miles, formerly of the US Army. You can call me Vince." Rank could count for a lot in the military, but in this kind of unit experience was more important. Deference could wait until he had seen what she was capable of. "Specialties include breaching and hand-to-hand combat." He pointed at Luke. "This is Luke. Trust me when I tell you that the guy knows how to hold his own." The Lucario bowed his head slightly before walking through a doorway nearby. It led to the squad office. When he returned, he was carrying three cans, one in each hand and the third in his mouth; one of the first things Vincent had done upon his arrival a week ago was stock the office's refrigerator. A test for the butter bar? he sent Vincent. Vincent checked his watch and smiled at the Lucario. "It's almost like you can read my mind sometimes, buddy," he said sarcastically as he caught one of the cans. It was only 1530, but today was an early-off day. Besides, he had never met a SF squad that didn't keep beer in the office - even though it was against regulations. Luke threw the second to Hudson. "To the future." Vincent lifted the can, opened it with one hand, and took a long draw. Luke followed suit. |
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Bajur, beskar'gam, ara'nov, aliit, Mando'a, bal Mand'alor an vencuyan mhi. The Resol'nare (Six Actions) Build a man a fire and you keep him warm for a day; set a man on fire and you keep him warm for the rest of his life. Just your average, ordinary, everyday state-sponsored sociopath. William Blackmoore IV | Josef Totschläger | Vincent Miles | Leonard Testarossa | Lee Ji-Eun | Jefferson Wyrzykowski | |
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| MizuJakkaru | Jun 27 2012, 03:36 AM Post #5 |
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Believe in you, who believes in yourself.
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She returned his shake with a firm one of her own. The rank she stowed away, the name she memorized. That kind of rank meant he was experienced all to hell, and in her mind, it was something she envied and respected the man for. She was well away how commissioned officers were viewed by many enlisted folks. Butter bars, and such. All that fun and games. In truth, she didn't blame enlisted folk a bit. Just because she had thrown money down a proverbial drain into an education didn't mean she was more experienced than someone who had enlisted. "Ensign Kayzen Hudson, formerly of the US Navy." She returned the statement and released Vince's hand, setting her grip on her hip. "You can call me Kayzen, I s'pose, or Kayz if it suits." Turning her attention to Luke, she offered a faint smile. "Oh, I trust you. And well met and all. I'd introduce you to my Blare, but I don't think he'd fit in here comfortably." Now this was a surprise. As the can flew towards her, she raised her hands and caught it, double handed softball style, what have you. She cocked an eyebrow and a slight smirk tugged at her lips. This was so against regulations it wasn't funny and for a split second, she wondered if this was some kind of check on whether or not she would be by the book or not. She looked down at the can, to Vincent and then to Luke. And then she popped the top on it. Taking a draw, she set it back down and sat back down as well. "For the future. Speaking of, in the future, toss me a Shiner and I'll be more than happy to drink it. But Coors isn't my choice of beer." She then glanced to the screen and then back to Vincent. "Any idea the details of this assignment, Vince? Or am I going to have to strangle someone here in this new nation to tell me exactly what we're going to be doing? I didn't come here to sit in a nice flat for two weeks with no job." Eagerness be damned. She didn't care what Vincent might think of her, she was thirsty to prove she could handle herself, and Seafoam had damn promised they would let her. |
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| Rookie | Jun 27 2012, 04:31 AM Post #6 |
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The Orange Death
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Vince took a seat at the head of the table. Detail? What detail? He didn't ask for anything to get done. He shot a questioning glance at Luke, who nodded. It was great to have a psychic as a best friend: it made playing Sherlock Holmes so much easier. "Great thing about the military: you get paid even if you're not doing shit." Luke sat next to him, beer in hand. "Let me guess: you're a tech-geek and know your way around things that go boom?" He waited for her answer before continuing with a joyless smirk. "Well, choking someone the fuck out won't be necessary. You're not here for a detail, Kayzen" he told her before taking another swig of his beer. Who the fuck decided to give me some newbie Squid for a Spec Ops squad?! he thought, irate at the unfairness of it all. Babysitting wasn't one of his fortes. He could only hope that their third member was at least a little bit better equipped for this line of work. "This is your assignment." He let that sink in. "Apparently, someone thinks that you're Operator material. Whether or not that's true remains to be seen, but that decision's way above my pay grade and yours too, no offense. Welcome to Republic Special Warfare Command, Special Operations squad Hunter 2. Likely operations include but are not limited to," he started ticking the points off on his fingers. "Sabotage, asset denial, asset acquisition, preparing the field, recon, HVT/HVI destruction or extraction, assassination, hostage rescues, and generally ruining days for anyone stupid enough to piss off this pretty little nation." He leaned back in his chair and killed off the beer. "As for the Shiner versus Coors thing, that's on you. If you can make it fit in the fridge, you're more than welcome to bring it in. Just don't let the MPs catch you doing it: they're vicious little bastards." He had had to resort to having Luke scrub a mind or two to get his own stash in. |
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Bajur, beskar'gam, ara'nov, aliit, Mando'a, bal Mand'alor an vencuyan mhi. The Resol'nare (Six Actions) Build a man a fire and you keep him warm for a day; set a man on fire and you keep him warm for the rest of his life. Just your average, ordinary, everyday state-sponsored sociopath. William Blackmoore IV | Josef Totschläger | Vincent Miles | Leonard Testarossa | Lee Ji-Eun | Jefferson Wyrzykowski | |
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| MizuJakkaru | Jun 27 2012, 09:12 PM Post #7 |
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Believe in you, who believes in yourself.
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Kayzen let that sink in, a thrilling chill running over her body and down her back. But also in that chill was that stomach wrenching feeling of a well deserved dose of fear. So she would be getting to actually prove herself useful, an asset, do things no female in any branch of the armed forces of the US would get to do any time soon. Seafoam hadn't lied, they'd fucking delivered. But she'd be stupid to not be apprehensive at the least. Heck, now it made all the more sense that Vincent was in charge... and all the more sense that she was going to have to be fucking on her toes until she got some actual field work under her belt. Special operations? What the fuck had they thought when they put an unproven newbie like her in this group? What in the world had they seen in her file that made them think she was material for this? She peered at the screen as she mulled over everything Vincent had said. She probably looked like an open book to the man and an open mind to the Lucario. She didn't care, let them pry and decide what they thought of her themselves. Clicking her teeth, she drained her beer, not something she usually did and her eyes watered a bit from the intake. She could drink, but she hardly ever chugged a mostly full can. But, after that little revelation, she was thankful for the alcohol. It helped to slate the mixture of excitement, fear and jumble of emotion she was having to sort out. I mean, heck, she'd had some of the highest marks in her tech school, but damn. She set the empty drink down on the table and looked up to Vincent. "Yes, I'm a tech geek and I can rig, or dismantle, explosives faster'n a stung stallion. I can't say if I'm Operator material or not, Vince, that remains to be seen. I don't have experience, I know it, you know it, and I can't fix that until we're out there and actually get in the field. But you can expect my best. I won't go promising anything but that." A moment or two would pass... and she wiped the bit of water from her eyes that had stung in from the intake of alcohol. ...Then she bloody got up and went to the fridge for another beer. She opened the door, grasped a can, and swung it closed. |
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| Rookie | Jun 29 2012, 12:47 AM Post #8 |
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The Orange Death
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She's scared, Vince, Luke's thoughts echoed in Vincent's head as they both watched her step into the office. The Lucario's ears perked up a bit at the sound of the fridge opening again. Flying colors on the first test, though. Vincent stayed still, eyes affixed on the doorway. She damn-well should be scared and you know it, he thought back. All the mirth that had been in his tone when he told Kayzen about sneaking her own drink of choice in was gone. This was, after all, some serious shit. Hell, I doubt if she's even been to a SERE class. SERE courses - Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape - were an absolute must in the Special Operations field. How long do you think she'll last? Luke shrugged. Hard to say. She's very determined, I'll give her that much. He looked away from the door and met Vincent's gaze. My impression is that she'd rather die than fail. She isn't thinking as much in certain terms, though, so I can't be positive. Other than that: I like her. Vincent almost laughed at that. He could recall being little more than determined back when he was just a kid out of Selection. He was sure Luke could remember those days as well. I figured as much. He plucked his empty can from the table and tossed it from hand to hand a few times. He would need to have her enrolled in a SERE course as soon as possible. Seeing her capabilities with explosives would be useful too. He waited until she returned to say, "Well, your best is all that I can really ask for. Just be ready to find out that what you think your best is and what it actually is are two completely different things. "We can worry about that later, though. For right now, I vote we just sit and get to know each other while we wait for our third to arrive." Knowing who was at your back was also a vital part of SpecOps. He had heard far too many stories of teams being betrayed - and usually killed thanks to the betrayal - by one member. He wasn't about to let that happen on his team. "We'll keep it simple. Where're you from?" Based on the accent, he already had a pretty good guess, but a guess was nothing compared to a confirmation. "And yes, you may ask about the scars." Everybody always wanted to. Vincent just wanted to get it out of the way. |
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Bajur, beskar'gam, ara'nov, aliit, Mando'a, bal Mand'alor an vencuyan mhi. The Resol'nare (Six Actions) Build a man a fire and you keep him warm for a day; set a man on fire and you keep him warm for the rest of his life. Just your average, ordinary, everyday state-sponsored sociopath. William Blackmoore IV | Josef Totschläger | Vincent Miles | Leonard Testarossa | Lee Ji-Eun | Jefferson Wyrzykowski | |
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| MizuJakkaru | Jun 29 2012, 04:35 AM Post #9 |
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Believe in you, who believes in yourself.
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Kayzen strolled back into the briefing room and settled back into her chair. Cracking open her second drink, she nursed a bit of it and set it back down as Vincent began to lighten the mood up with some basic back-and-forth. If they were going to be a squad, she had to be as close as family to these guys. She'd read enough to know that. But still, talking about home was easy and got her mind off of the fact that she would inevitably be putting her life at risk with this new job. "Austin, Texas. The good ol' Lone Star State. But I've been all over for basic and EOD training. The naval station in Illinois, Eglin and Panama City, Florida, Fort Benning and a last bit in Cally." Kayzen shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. "But Texas is home." She flicked her eyes to Vincent's and then shrugged. "Right then. And where're you from? And, so we can get it out on the table and since I ain't afraid to be bold about it, how did you get that scar?" |
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| Chris Ganale | Jun 30 2012, 10:04 AM Post #10 |
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Munitions Connoisseur
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"Tyndall doesn't do EOD training," a voice called out from the other room, the refrigerator room. "That's all done at Eglin." There came a thump, like that of a chair kicked up on its back legs hitting the ground, then a new man walked out from the other room. Like the first two, he wore military fatigues, the older jungle camouflage pattern rather than the tiger-striped uniform that he'd left his last base wearing. The old BDU style was a damn sight better than the newer camouflage; lighter and actually did better work at hiding the individuals wearing them. The velcro was different, though. He wasn't used to having velcro patches all over the front of his uniform. The namestrip read "REILLY", the service tag was "R.S. AIR FORCE", and Seafoam's 'Flaming S' insignia was on his left upper arm with the Seafoam flag in the matching spot on the right, but the patch for a unit emblem on the left upper breast pocket was bare. Aside from that, he had an oddly common appearance about him. Like Vincent, his hair was longer than typical military regulations allowed, due to being an Operator, but he seemed so...plain. Like he could just vanish at will into a crowd. Or even into not a crowd. |
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Chao Lingshen ■ Chris Ganale ■ Date Masamune ■ Garon Crayson ■ James C. Reilly ■ Jaune Arc ■ Lie Ren ■ Nagamasa Azai ■ Ren Tauße ■ Seno Nakakami ■ Xiao Qiao ■ Yang Xiao Long ■ Yuuna Akashi | |
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| Rookie | Jun 30 2012, 06:57 PM Post #11 |
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The Orange Death
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So his guess had been right. It was hard to mistake the accent, but he'd seen crazier things done. "Austin's nice. Too crowded for my tastes, but that's just me." He had been there a time or two on family vacations when he was younger. "Good to know that you've got some training time down at Benning. Army EOD is damn good at their job. Batshit crazy, but good all the same." He went back into the office himself before answering her questions; more beer was required. He grabbed two more cans. He threw one at Luke, who caught it with a little telekinesis. For a creature without opposable thumbs, he was remarkably skilled at operating the pop-top. "Tuscon, Arizona, born and raised. As for the scars, I got them early in my career... I'm so nervous that it's making me sick to my stomach. The way the chopper's bouncing around helps about as much as a few slugs from a heavyweight. I would have lost my lunch a few times now if it weren't for the fact that my stomach is empty. This mission's gonna go bad. I know it, Semi knows it, hell even Werewolf knows it, even if he won't admit it. The only person who doesn't seem to have a bad feeling is Friday. Then again, the guy's optimistic to the point of being certifiably insane, so he doesn't really count. The last few missions were easy: get in, kill douchebag(s), get out. This one? The brass wants this particular douchebag alive. Alive causes problems for guys like us. Problems like having to babysit a guy that's trying to kill us. Problems like resisting the urge to break his fucking neck. Anwyay, the chopper rolls into position outside of the village. There are four more, each dropping off their own compliments of SF teams. One team per building seems like overkill here, but I'm paid to shoot people and kick in doors, not consider the budget. Werewolf - Sergeant Dreivus - is the first to stand up. "Get the fuck off my bird!" he shouts and the rest of us are all too happy to oblige. My boots are on the dirt before I know it and, without conscious decision from my mind, I'm hauling ass towards our target building: a two-story house that intel thinks the target is in. Personally? I'm not counting on it. The other three stack up around me as I slide into position in front of the door. Muffled gunshots start sounding from other buildings. I guess someone doesn't like the fact that we're here. Sucks to be them. I can't spare any worry on that, though. I'm more concerned with how emphatic a boot I'm gonna have to put to this door to get it open. I can tell that it's been reinforced, but poorly. There are wires sticking out all around it, too. Now, that's typically a sign of stupidity on the part of the user; you can tell because there're only one or two wires poking out. This time, there are dozens. Touching any one of them the wrong way could turn this door into shrapnel and me into dead. "What's the fucking hold up, Candybar?" Werewolf asks. He's such a gentle soul. I'm already sweating. This is not a happy situation. "Got about a dozen wires here, Werewolf. Looks like the door's been tamper-proofed, too. We need to find a different way," I tell him. There's a reason Sergeant Dreivus's callsign is Werewolf: he fucking growls when he's pissed. This time is no exception. "There is no other way. Just blow it." I look at him, eyes wide. "But Sergeant -" "'But Sergeant' nothing. Get us in there!" An order's an order, so I set to it. A breaching charge from my drop pouch ought to do it. I pull the thing out and peel the cover off the adhesive. The door's only a few inches away, but it seems like miles as my arms carry the charge forward. I can't bring myself to look. I don't. I turn my head to the left, eyes closed. I can't help it: I'm expecting the door to try to become my new best friend at roughly 8,000 meters per second. Needless to say, I'm amazed when I feel the charge touch the door, stick, and nothing more happens. I open an eye and give Werewolf a thumbs-up. I'm just about to set the charge for command detonation when my world suddenly goes really. Fucking. LOUD. I wake up a few days later in a hospital with gauze covering half my head. I'm pretty fuzzy on who, where, and when I am, but I'm in pain which means I'm alive... Vincent shook himself out of the memory - with a little help from Luke - when a new voice sounded. He cracked open his beer and focused on Kayzen. "My squad and I were supposed to extract an HVI from a little village in Romania. A breach went sour. Moral of the story here? Trust your instincts: you have them for a reason," he told her before turning to the newcomer and slurping on his beer. "Thanks for finally deciding to show up. Hope you don't mind that we got started without you." His instructions were clear: wait for his team to show up, meet them, leave, off for the weekend. They didn't say anything about not hanging out with his squadmates after work, though. "We are now officially off the clock. In the spirit of that, I say we take this somewhere more comfortable. There's a really nice bar on the beach at Island One. Reggie's, I think it is." He leaned back in his seat again and crossed his arms. "Unless you two really enjoy staying in uniform." His tone suggested that such a thing was slightly less likely than him growing wings and flying away. |
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Bajur, beskar'gam, ara'nov, aliit, Mando'a, bal Mand'alor an vencuyan mhi. The Resol'nare (Six Actions) Build a man a fire and you keep him warm for a day; set a man on fire and you keep him warm for the rest of his life. Just your average, ordinary, everyday state-sponsored sociopath. William Blackmoore IV | Josef Totschläger | Vincent Miles | Leonard Testarossa | Lee Ji-Eun | Jefferson Wyrzykowski | |
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| MizuJakkaru | Jun 30 2012, 10:59 PM Post #12 |
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Believe in you, who believes in yourself.
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Kayzen turned to the sound of the new voice and she looked over to the newcomer. He looked rather average, but that wasn't her main concern. Her biggest concern was the fact that the office area was enclosed. The guy had either been in there before her and Just-a-Joe showed up or he had ninja'd in after somehow. She frowned, that kinda frown people get right before they correct someone and clarify that they were right the first time. "I didn't go to Tyndall. All Navy EOD technicians receive their diver training at the NDSTC. The majority of it was at Eglin, though." She glanced back to Vincent and sobered up at the mention of the source of the other man's scars. As the resident explosives technician of this squad, she could very well face the same kind of thing as he did... so his comment to follow her gut was one she planned on taking to heart. Off the clock? Ah... so this was merely a meet and greet. Right-o. Kayzen smiled, relaxing. "Seeing as I haven't even been off of Oceanus since I set foot on it, I'm good for sending some free time on One. I bet it's still busy as fuck from the opening earlier today." |
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| Chris Ganale | Jul 1 2012, 02:39 AM Post #13 |
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Munitions Connoisseur
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If the young officer was looking to see him be flustered or chagrined at speaking while having the wrong information, she'd be disappointed. The only response he showed to being corrected was to shrug and move on. "Panama City's a shithole anyway. Fort Walton Beach really isn't any better, though." He turned toward the other man then at the reference to an off-duty, non-uniform excursion, then shrugged. "I actually like that Seafoam uses a remake of the old BDU pattern. Breathes like BDUs, but you can just throw it in the wash and they don't give a shit about creasing the hell out of it like ABUs. Win all around in my book." |
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Chao Lingshen ■ Chris Ganale ■ Date Masamune ■ Garon Crayson ■ James C. Reilly ■ Jaune Arc ■ Lie Ren ■ Nagamasa Azai ■ Ren Tauße ■ Seno Nakakami ■ Xiao Qiao ■ Yang Xiao Long ■ Yuuna Akashi | |
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| Rookie | Jul 3 2012, 08:06 PM Post #14 |
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The Orange Death
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Vincent gave Kayzen a polite smile. The girl was either easy to influence or an officer after his own heart. The smile died when Reilly threw in his ten cents about the uniform. Vincent couldn't tell if he was being an ass or just being dense. Luke's voice came to his mind, a warning rebuke for the words already forming on the man's lips. Easy, Vince. Remember that he doesn't know you yet... It was sound advice, really. Too bad Vincent rarely took Luke's sound advice to heart. "So what? You want a cookie or something there, high-speed?" He stood up, not threatening or assertively - he could take care of asserting his position later, and looked at Reilly. A few inches taller, about the same weight. "As comfortable and washable - I guess? - as the uniform is, it doesn't beat civies." He killed off the beer. "And I don't know about you, but I've got some heavy drinking to do tonight. Can't very well be doing that in uniform." The statement was punctuated with the kind of belch that only beer can seem to produce. It was as eloquent an end to any statement he'd ever made. |
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Bajur, beskar'gam, ara'nov, aliit, Mando'a, bal Mand'alor an vencuyan mhi. The Resol'nare (Six Actions) Build a man a fire and you keep him warm for a day; set a man on fire and you keep him warm for the rest of his life. Just your average, ordinary, everyday state-sponsored sociopath. William Blackmoore IV | Josef Totschläger | Vincent Miles | Leonard Testarossa | Lee Ji-Eun | Jefferson Wyrzykowski | |
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| MizuJakkaru | Jul 5 2012, 07:11 PM Post #15 |
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Believe in you, who believes in yourself.
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Easy to influence? Maybe. The truth? She was only an officer because she'd gone to college as her grandma had wanted. Otherwise, she'd have probably enlisted like her grandad had. The result? She didn't typically get a stick up her ass about how she was supposed to act when someone said they could act casual at the moment. Sure, she'd shove a pole up her ass when he need called for it, but right now, it didn't. But that was neither here nor there. She arched an eyebrow as Vincent and his sudden defensive tone about uniform and casual, then she also got to her feet and shrugged. "I've personally got no preference, but I fail to see the big deal. I doubt Reilly's much of a drinker, given the fact he was ninja'd up in there for god knows how long with that alcohol packed fridge of yours." She paused and gave Reilly that kind of examination she had had given Vincent earlier. That kinda scan that said she was going to memorize the placement of every thread of his uniform before she was done. "I got here early. Like. Half an hour early. You were here before me." She wasn't saying it as a question, but a statement of fact. And it was something she was storing away about her teammate. And, if Reilly was sharp enough, there was a bit of admiration stuck in there somewhere in that comment. And a bit of bitter rivalry. She was nothing but stubborn and prideful, and it hurt a bit that she had been second best in getting here. She had secretly wanted to be first. But she wasn't gonna be juvenile, and that was a silly thing to be stung about. Not that it mattered. Vincent seemed at least mildly content that she wasn't going to be an embarrassment... at least not until they got out in the field and she had a chance to really screw things up with her lack of experience. Kayzen shook her head, sighing. "Let's just get offa this base, ya'll. Even if drinking isn't your thing, I hear Seafoam has some nice beaches." |
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