[b]On the wisps home planet of Demio, a massive construction effort had begun and was hopefully made To shape the species image for the better. Near the southern pole, the only place with reasonable temperatures due to the multiple glassings of the planet, resulting in its near destruction and transformation from a sprawling jungle planet to a desolate desert one. Although it is rather inhospitable on the surface, the crust of the planet is rather prosperous and full of useful ores and gems, as well as ancient technology buried beneath the sands of time. Regardless, an economic comeback was well overdue. The creatures as most called them where creating a massive arena on the southern pole, created mainly of scrap from the various ship graveyards and carcasses of the formerly prosperous space traveling ships. Apon its completion, a massive Roman like arena had been created. People throughout the Galaxy are subject to a single message [/b] "[i]Hello there! Despite our former gripes we may have had in the past, you are welcome to attend and participate in the testing of the Aegis class Battle armor. Coordinates are linked within this message [/i]" [spoiler]open, you received the message. Also, was that shit?[/spoiler]

*looks through the door into the RP, backs out slowly*

________( ☭ ͜ʖ☭) ____🇷🇺 ███۞███████ ]▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▃ ▂▄▅█████████▅▄▃▂ I███████████████████] ◥⊙▲⊙▲⊙▲⊙▲⊙▲⊙▲⊙◤

[b][i][u]The Cavalry is here[/u][/i][/b] Several minutes after Dark Storm called for a SilverPulse to be sent as reinforcements, a single Alliance cruiser jumps out of FTLinto low orbit around the planet and a single man jumps out and falls to the ground. Using the melnoch in his suit to slow his descent, he smashes into to the ground, making a massive crater of impact. He gets out of the crater, shields recharging from the force they took from the impact, and stands up to face his enemy, on the comm with Quickblast. "Fenrir? Come out. I'd rather not have to harm you."-Silver He draws his energy sword, activates it, and makes his way through the ruins of the city, searching for Fenrir. [spoiler]Open to Fenrir and those currently engaging him.[/spoiler]

[b][u]Man's gotta eat[/u][/b] Running, [i]pit-pat pit-pat[/i], the only noises that accompanied the shouts that rang across the rooftops of Mandalore city [i]"Asshole! Come right here!"[/i] He grinned, the boy, the thief, running with a cache of credits he stole from an arms dealer in the marketplace, and having a hell of a time "Sorry! But no refunds!" He turned, cache on his back, bow in his hands with an arrow waiting on the string, and fired a shot at the angry dealer, hitting him right between the lower ribs, and turning to resume the run, hopefully being able to avoid any law on the way to the safe house ((Open))

[i][b]Meet the New Boss, Same as the Old Boss[/b][/i] [b]The Amaterasu, Deep Space[/b] [i]Clarkson and the Osiris team had been preparing themselves for some time prior to heading back to New Terra to deal with Drache and Riker. Each of them had spent grueling hours training and working to make sure that they were in perfect shape. Under the direction of Clarkson, they used simulations to train for the actual event, running through it until everyone did their part flawlessly. They weren't going to lose any operators. Casualties were unacceptable. Today was the day, however, to put the team to the real test. As the group suited up, they made all of their last-minute checks to ensure their systems were working flawlessly. With everything it prime condition, Clarkson made his call to Kayla.[/i] We move today. [spoiler]Shad[/spoiler]

[b]Placing the Blame[/b]: [i]New Terran Assembly[/i] Once more, the Union delegates gather in the vast Assembly Chamber of Mandalore City, yet this is perhaps the most somber delegation yet, and a coldness fills the air. There is an emptiness where Arthur Colburn once sat, and his seat at the head of the room was empty; today, the lead speakers were a small group of NTR Officials few had heard of, Senators all. Military personnel sat at the back of the room, with the other Union leaders. One man went up to the podium facing the crowd, and spoke, "Today, we are gathered to discuss our nation's safety, in light of recent events. Quite bluntly, our Republic has experienced its most traumatic year since the catastrophic war against the Sol Collective, and the implications of such a statement are staggering. First, we must address the bombing of New Mandalore, and the brief machinated occupation of Solara. Though we originally dismissed this case as a rogue incident of AI failure, recent evidence has given us evidence that subroutines had been implanted in several of our core AI frames very recently before the attacks, though we have yet to trace a confirmable source. Next, we have the murder of General Jack Treyman, President Arthur Colburn, and twenty other Union officials aboard the relief vessel [i]Arcadia[/i]. The former is still unexplained, but confirmed: all bio readings flatlined, and the General has not been seen in over a month. However, for the second incident we indicted Matthew Reese of the Federation as the man who commandeered the nearby orbital platform, and shot down the returning officials as they passed by. Finally, we must consider the recent attack on Solara. For many of you, this is the first you are hearing of this, as the incident is ongoing as we speak, and although damage reports have yet to come in, there are at least 200 confirmed casualties from a confrontation with a man named Fenrir, who was a Fireteam November agent before the first team was disbanded. Now, many of these occurrences are old news by now, and many of you are likely wondering why I choose to summarize these here and now. Well, while I do not place blame, the simply fact is that the Republic cannot possibly withstand such traumatic evolutions within such a brief amount of time. We have no precedent for these events, no code, no rulebook, and no precautions. That has to end, now, before any further catastrophes can occur." There is murmuring throughout the crowd, with mixed responses throughout each faction. The man seems to sense this, and steps aside from the podium, saying, "If any wish to speak on these matters, the floor is yours." [b](Open to any Union officials or soldiers. This isn't a restricted event, and has some publicity, so watch what you say)[/b]

[i][u]New Terra, Garden of Heroes military cemetery. POV- Vladimir[/u][/i] The funeral had already started, Vladimir scoffed. His brother had always been the big hero, going to the academy, joining the navy, commanding his own ship. Pavel could not help but to outshine his brother. Vladimir entered the chapel accompanied by a few of his associates. In truth he was not some mid level soldier in the Russian mafia, but the bosses's right hand man. They dealt in illegal goods, weapons, alcohol, racketeering, theft, and counterfeiting. They didn't deal drugs and they didn't sell people, the boss was adamant about that, and vlad agreed. This was about money, power and the freedom to do whatever people wanted. But today he grieved, tears touched the corners of his eyes, despite the fact that his brother had disowned him, he still loves him. And he knew exactly who was responsible, in the criminal underworld few secrets were so, secrets. Everyone knew the triad had killed Pavel Volkov, and everyone knew a gang war was on its way. The Irish and the Italians sided with the Russians, the Jamaicans, the Columbians, and the various street gangs from New Terra sided with the triad. The yakuza, the Brits, and the syndicate didn't or wouldn't take sides, yet. But for now, the grieving period would be respected, the Russian and their allies had three days to mourn while the battle for the underground built up. "My brother, was always one you could count on. He brought honor to our family name, he was always the better man..." [i][u]Alley way new Terra, three days later.[/u][/i] His men held him, the triad thug was bleeding from his mouth and nose. Vladimir paced, metal bat in his hands. "I can do this all night, we both know your employer killed my brother. Just tell me where he is and this all ends." The triad spit on him, and Vladimir laughed while he beat the man with the bat. "Tell me, Tell me, Tell me!" A hand caught the bat, Sergei was Vladimir's right hand man, he was also cold hearted and very practical, but most importantly he was Vladimir's oldest friend. "He will not talk dead my friend, let me handle him, the boss needs you." Vlad nodded slowly and threw the bat into a dumpster. He kicked the triad in the gut one last time and turned to leave. Entering the street he walked back to the warehouse. [spoiler]Open[/spoiler]

7:00. That was the time Light and Aaron were supposed to be at Aaron's parents house for dinner. It was 6:45 and they were driving, on the long road to Aaron's house all the way out in the country. A space ranch. Aaron had dressed business casual, dressing nice but not to nice. "You ready?" He asks Light as he steers.

[b][u]Hell Through Heaven[/u][/b] [b][i]Solara, NTR[/i][/b] ===================================================== [i]Michael Vorkraft was having the time of his life. He'd been resurrected from the dead, was one of the wealthiest business moguls in the Galaxy due to a great ability granted to him by his handler. He was about to unveil his food production technique for the whole world to see, and if all went to plan, he would complete his unholy mission from Hell to his handlers satisfaction.[/i] "Hello, Solara!" [i]he shouted, entering to massive applause.[/i] "Many of you are wondering, even now, 'Who is this guy? Where did he come from? Why is he here? Well, if you [i]really[/i] want to know, I'll tell you!" [i]Everyone cheered and chanted,[/i] "[u]TELL US! TELL US! TELL US![/u]" [i]For a few minutes before he held his hands up, and the crowd granted him silence.[/i] "I'll tell you. I came from Hell. The Hell that was the NTR after their disastrous war. I looked upon the broken system, and I said to myself, 'How could I best help these people?' This had me pondering for a long time. I figured it out though. I discovered a [b]brilliant[/b] new food production technique, one that will revolutionize agriculture, but, more importantly, one that will feed the starving citizens of those ravaged world's, FOR NO CHARGE!" [i]Everyone begins screaming, some cry, others simply stare on, stunned.[/i] "That's right, people! Completely free! And, I'll-" [i]A boom goes off, behind the crowd, making everyone turn their head. A pillar of fire had formed, the trademark entrance of Fenrir. Though, this wasn't his regular blue fire, but fire of the most violent red. Fenrir was left kneeling on the ground, visibly shaking from rage. His eyes blazed like wildfires.[/i] "You're, you're Fenrir, right? You helped against those rebels! Everyone a round of a-" "[b]SILENCE![/b]" [i]Everyone quieted. People backed away as he approached the stand in the City Square.[/i] "[b]You. Are not. Franklin Morroe![/b]" [i]He says, pointing his finger.[/i] "I have no clue what you're going o-" "[b]SILENCE! You! You are Michael Vorkraft! Everything you are is a lie! I will end it![/b]" [i]He says, drawing Ragnarok from his back. People scream and flee to the nearby buildings. In the resulting chaos, Michael steps down from the stage. He walks towards Fenrir, a wry grin on his face. No audio can be heard, but he says something, and Fenrir hears it.[/i] "Väken." [i]Fenrir stops, his face going white. He begins to push on, visibly sweating. Michael continues speaking.[/i] "Hør. Màne. Natt." [i]Fenrir releases one hand, grabbing his head, his pace slowing. Michael continues speaking.[/i] "Skogrydding. Regn." [i]The Wolf falls to his knees at the feet of Michael.[/i] "[b]NO! PLEASE, GOD, NO![/b]" [i]He screams. Michael smiles maliciously.[/i] "Brann. Adlyde." [i]Fenrir stops his convulsions and screaming. He stands to his full height, at attention, staring straight ahead. His previous tears were still running down his cheeks, however, the flow had ceased, and his face was as stone. He said, devoid of emotion or thought,[/i] "[b]Jeg väkner, hører, og adlyde[/b]." [i]Michaels smile broadened p, and he began to back away. The last of the civilians cleared the square, leaving Fenrir, surrounded by the guards and arriving police. He showed no acknowledgement of the presence of anyone. Michael laughed, and said,[/i] "Brenne og skape kaos." [i]Fenrir turned, noting the armed men, and his eyes blazed with blood-red fire. As Michael entered a vehicle, driving off at top speed, Fenrir attacked, massacring the men. A small explosion emanated from the Square. Michael laughed again.[/i] "Hell through Heaven's Champion." [i]The true Ragnarök had begun, and no one would stop the Wolf...[/i] [spoiler]Open. Challenge him at your own risk.[/spoiler]

[i][u]A nightclub somewhere in Mandalore City, New Terra [/u][/i] [b]Alison sits in the back of the nightclub repairing her left gauntlet. Earlier some prick had shot it so she had to knock him out. She sighs and leans back, rubbing her eyes. She takes a sip of her drink and looks around at people dancing to loud music. She gets up and finishes her drink. She makes her way out into the cool night air. As she's walking she notices 2 people following her, a man and a woman, she ignores them and keeps walking. The 2 people catch up and each place a hand on her shoulders. Faster than the eye can see she spins her arms around and snaps both of their arms. The 2 people scream in pain as she keeps walking without looking back [/b] [spoiler]Open, she's open to joining a faction[/spoiler]

[b][i][u]Hungover or just lazy?[/u][/i][/b] [b]After a fun week of downing as many bottles of alcohol he could the man in red walks to a inn and after stumbling for a bit he actually lands face first into the ground several feet from the door, he wasn't moving at all and there was actually a crack in the concrete. He's either dead or sleeping[/b] [spoiler]Open[/spoiler]

[b][i][u]Bane of Hell[/u][/i][/b] "Just a bit closer."-Silver Thanks to the tracking program he used on Mute's BFG, they were now nearing his location. As they inch ever closer, Silver programs one of the cruisers to go in front of his. His hand shakes slightly as he does so. Even with it being abandoned, he couldn't help but shake. It was only him, Quickblast, Felix, and Evelyn against this maniac. How could he expect to succeed? "Calm down," he said to himself, and stops his hand from shaking. "I can do this." As the other cruiser moves in, he sends in the second one right after it, following up with his own. He then waited for one of them to explode, readying the weapons on all three cruisers as the others prepare. [spoiler]Open to Cosmic and Evelyn. This is it. It's all or nothing. [/spoiler]

[b][i]Dear lord this is a mistake.[/i][/b] Were the thoughts of Captain Mohc as he was overseeing the transfer of the Triumvirate's newest recruits on board his ship. Six troublemakers that came out of nowhere with nothing to their account, and most likely no plan for the future. Of all his years, god this would be the worst... [spoiler]for Fish.[/spoiler]

[i][u]Mandalore City, New Terra[/u][/i] [b][i]Jason was walking through Mandalore city, en route to his apartment after having a few drinks. He was walking through an alley when he looked over his should to see a group of thugs following him. He picked up his pace and looked up ahead to see another group of thugs had the exit blocked off.[/i][/b] [i]"Of all the bloody days.."[/i] [b][i]Jason muttered, obviously pissed. His regeneration had been slowing down considerably as a result of tanking too much damage in fights. If he tried to absorb too much, he'd die for real.[/i][/b] [i][b]The thugs behind him caught him off guard and he was thrown at a dumpster, his impact denting it visibly. He grunted, turning his fake arm into an Anti-Tank Rifle and took aim at the first group. He squeezed off a shot, reducing the group to a pile of meat and blood. He turned to aim at the second group and was met with a knife in the shoulder. [/b][/i][i]"Gah-!"[/i] [b][i]He gasped, tearing out the blade, and planting it into the eye of his attacker. He raised his rifled arm but was thrown at a wall of the alley. He crumpled to the ground, blood pouring freely from multiple wounds on his back as well as a trail of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. His HUD displayed a warning, notifying him that he was about to push the damage absorption limit. With a fierce battlecry he pushed himself up and limped towards the last attacker. He grabbed the man by his throat and threw him to the ground. Jason knelt next to the man and grabbed his head, and proceeded to slam it into the ground repeatedly until it caved in. He sat back against the wall of the alley, and checked his damage absorption meter. One more stab and he would have been done for. He let out a sigh, and let his head fall back. He quietly watched the night sky, until he lost consciousness.[/i][/b] [spoiler]open. Sorry for bad grammar, lol[/spoiler]

*detonates super nuke killing everyone including this RP thread*

[i]That -blam!-er | Federation home-world, 2200 hours. PoV - Treyman. [/i] [i]My cloaking was active, my target was to be hunted. But I couldn't do it without the knowledge of where in the field he was. When my ship touched down later that night, I slowly stepped off the ramp that lowered itself for me. Planting either foot on the ground of the planet, my mask and onyx-coloured cloak were... Strange, to say the very least, although they still served a purpose. I started to walk, and walk, and walk. The nearest recruitment centre was filled with hopeful youngsters, as it is for every nation that's got a patriot worth their salt. They reminded me of myself in youth, though that wasn't what I needed to focus on. I approached the woman at the desk, and I removed the mask. I digistructed another one, though it wrapped around my entire head this time, taking the image of a civilian. [/i] "Pardon me?" ((Phantom))

[b]a unidentified blip on the radar is spotted heading towards the solar system. It's stopping near the planets, orbiting around each one once and flying off to the next.[/b]

[u][b]Bringing the hammer down.[/b][/u] It had been a couple of weeks since the castle incident, and the Osiris fugitives still hadn't been found. And that's just the first thing, as this had been a horrible week for the Castle altogether. Ever since the incident, the residents of New Terra didn't feel safe anymore with the floating fortresses above their heads. After making demands to their government, the Castle forced had been removed of New Terra and had been released of any protection duty. In other words, they weren't welcome in the cities anymore. They were loosing supporters rapidly. Evidence had been made public that there was foul play involved in the incident of the previous weeks. Recordings, live footage, eyewitness reports and CCTV images had been analyzed and leaked to the media to let them know the truth of what happened. For example, the hottest piece of information was that the number one fugitive, Clarkson, was innocent. The accusations against him had been proved to be false, and that Osiris team was innocent in this affair. Attention had also been brought to Edward Drache, new commander of Castle. The man had a reputation, and that was an understatement. He was [i]known[/i] to be ruthless in his methods, having little care for human lives to reach his goals. Once again, the population showed intense discomfort and even outright opposition to the Castle Group. At the head of this media trial was the Triumvirate group, benevolent galactic market dominator. This, once again, proved that they had interest in the well being of the population. They had been spearheading the relief efforts all across the New Terran territories, offering donations to those touched by the damages of the incident and paying for the entire repairs of the city. The Castle had nowhere to run. They were trapped in a corner. [spoiler]For Wolf. Just basically reviewing what has happened on that front.[/spoiler]

[b][i]Return of A patron [/i][/b] [i] London [/i] [b]a ship approaches the spaceport. The sun reflects off the Golden plates and docks Into a port. The door opens and a man steps out in a business suit, making a signature click with each step. The view looks up showing the face, the man. Lego [/b] [spoiler] open.[/spoiler]

Fuсk this whole thing I guess.