[b][i]The Long Arm of The Law[/i][/b] [i]That justice is the one thing you should always find You got to saddle up your boys, you got to draw a hard line - Toby Keith & Willie Nelson[/i] [b]Mandalore City, New Terra[/b] [i]It had been some time since the attack on New Terra, and much of the city was currently under occupation by the Castle and its respective forces. Troops and mechanized infantry patrolled the city, as aircraft scoured the skies for any threats. With most of the insurgency taken care of, the Castle had begun to allow civilians to return to their homes, as things were finally becoming somewhat safe. In spite of this, the Castle continued full occupation protocols in order to maintain the stability that they had achieved, and yet, despite this, things in the city still continued to occur. Robberies, murders, and kidnappings were still occurring, and other areas of New Terra were also experiencing a continuation of such trends. It appeared that the occupation had not fully eliminated the threats, and so, special action was to be undertaken, as ordered by two of the Castle's senior officers, Commander Nicholas Clarkson, and Generalfeldmarschall Edward Drache. Clarkson had previously been SAS and then an operator for the mercenary group Venom Incorporated, before he agreed to become part of the Castle in exchange for his likely death sentence for his participation in the acts which were committed by Venom Incorporated. Drache had been a rising officer in the German Bundeswehr, eventually joining the KSK and becoming an elite operator during the Third World War. Proving his tactical prowess, he would be promoted to the rank of Field Marshal, and assigned to the Castle to allow him maximum operating room against enemies of the Fatherland. The two of them were used to operating under the radar with minimal resources and highly-trained troops. With the steady occurrence of rather serious criminal activity, the two of them had decided to deploy the Osiris kill-team to hunt and kill those who continued to disrupt the NTR and her allies. The team was to be deployed first to Mandalore City and operate undercover with orders to kill any that stood in their way. Clarkson and Drache were initially concerned about the potential implications of such a black operation, but they knew that it was effective, and they trusted their team. Only time would tell as to how effective this plan would be, Drache and Clarkson hoped that Osiris would be able to bag their targets. [/i] [spoiler]Be warned, those of you who like to disrupt the peace, the big guns are coming.[/spoiler]

This is sad.

[spoiler]i hate NTR : ([/spoiler] [spoiler]don't google NTR, the results are NSFW japanese cartoons about cheating/betrayal[/spoiler]

[b]Mandalore City, New Terra.[/b] [b][u]I Know What You Did Last Week.[/u][/b] A bald Man in a suit and tie entered his household. He had just gotten back from dinner, and intended to wash his face and hands, before heading off to bed. Unbeknownst to the Man, this was his last night on Terra. Last week, he had silently killed a sleeping man in his home. His wife, waking up to a crash as he made his escape, caught a glimpse of the man. Six days later, she enlisted the services of a Mercenary, only known as Grizzly to her, for one grand. She had sketched the man's face the best she could, allowing Grizzly to track him down to his house. The Man washed his hands, and cleaned his face with an old rag, before heading off to bed. Upon entering his room, he found writing on the walls. The writing read: [i]I Know What You Did Last Week. I Know What You Did. And I'm coming for you.[/i] He just finished reading the last sentence, as his entire head was painted on the walls. Across from his house on a rooftop, smoke emitted from the barrel of an M1017 .50 Caliber sniper rifle, as the mercenary went to get his pay, and head back to his own residence. [spoiler]Open.[/spoiler]

[b]My Ties Are Cut, My Wounds Healed, Time To Fight Yet Again...[/b] [b][u]Kalishar, in a bar in the northern hemisphere[/u][/b] [i]I hope this goes well...can't wait to get out of this. I want my freedom back...[/i] Four men sat around a table, all with drinks and playing cards. One of them was a man who wasn't a pirate, or a smuggler, or a crime boss. He was the total opposite. An elite soldier, crafted by his past anger, hatred and need to fix problems. His name was Thomas Walden, his friends called him Offspring, the little amount he had would soon be dead. The other three, a mechanic, a medic and a pilot. They were playing Rummy, rather intensely. The conversation had switched to an idea that the medic had come up with, he had always been the more adventurous of the group. "Alexandria, bank of the public. It's a simple hit. And it would get us a shit load of cash." The mechanic spoke up, putting down a group of three kings, he smiled, down to one card and discarded an ace. The ace of clubs. "He's right. That place isn't exactly in the best shape, we'd blow through, in and out in a matter of ten minutes." The pilot nodded and started to play, adding the fourth king to the mechanics short group and put down another ace. "I could outrun them, no problem." It was Thomas's turn. To play and to speak. He picked up the two aces, speaking as he did so. "Sounds good to me. Just be careful with what you leave, others might use that against you." Thomas had had two cards left, the other two aces. He puts all four of the cards down, ending the game and the conversation. He stands and walks away. .......................................................................... The group of four had their target, they had their gear, they had the confidence and the skill to do this, easily. Thomas was in his armor, slinging the weapons on his back and standing at the edge of the cargo drop of the ship. "Offspring's ready to jump. I'm starting the timer. Light em up." The pilot's voice rang in from the com-set. The mechanic and medic turned, opening fire on guards and civilians alike. Soon the room was clean and empty, blood and gore everywhere. The mechanic started the drill into the vault. The medic stayed away to watch for police. Thomas jumped from the ship and down at the bank. He crashed through the roof, ending in a kneeling position. He stood, looking around. "Keep the drill up and running. We will keep watch." The medic spoke to the medic and went back to aiming down the sights of his rifle. Thomas walked up behind the medic, thinking to himself. [i]I could kill him. Along with the other guy. It would be easy. I'm gonna do it...[/i] He pulls his shotgun from his back, firing two buckshot shells into the medic and coming around the corner to see the mechanic, who had pulled his pistol. He fired at Thomas, aiming for the head. One round of the fifteen hit, it was actually a well placed shot, right on his cheekbone. It hurt like a bitch, but it didn't even slow him. Low caliber guns were useless against his armor. He grabbed the mechanic by the neck and dragged him to the drill. Thomas pulled the drill out with one hand and put the mechanic's head in the way with the other. He closed the gap between the two, sending blood and gore everywhere. The pilot's voice rang in again. "What happened? I heard shots. Cops here in 7 minutes." "The other two didn't make it, forget them. Come get me." The pilot nodded, starting to land. Thomas stepped onto the ship and pulled his pistol, aiming at the pilot as he stood. He unloaded the whole magazine into the pilot, sending him through the front window of the ship. He holsters the weapon and steps out of the ship, waiting for the police. When they did arrive, he had his helmet off and was cooperative with them as much as he could be. He'd just shut down one of the galaxy's biggest armed robbery rings. He wouldn't be put in jail for his past sins. [spoiler]Open, he's just outside the police station...[/spoiler]

[b][u]In orbit around New Terra, Unidentified spacecraft [/u][/b] [b]Grant leaned back in his pilot's chair, sipping on coffee with his cybernetic feet propped up on the console He entered the orbit and hailed the authorities, wishing only to land He yawned, it being too early for this, and flexed his free left arm, morphing it into an assault rifle then into a sniper mode then normal again As he got closer to the planet he set down his coffee and went to manual control, his ship on a course to stay in orbit[/b] [spoiler]Open[/spoiler]

[u][b]Mandalore City[/b][/u] [b]Scar stands on top of a building looking out upon the city.[/b] Alright Alice, let's get to work. [i]Yes ma'am[/i] [b]She turns to the building on her right and takes a running jump off the edge. She lands silently on the side and beings to climb up. She reaches the roof and climbs up and heads towards a door[/b] [spoiler]Open, intro post[/spoiler]

[i][b][u]WHY AM I SO SAD?![/u][/b][/i] [i][b]Varn's Flagship, Terra Orbit[/b][/i] [b]Varn strolled through the halls of his flagship, extremely proud of his progress. He looked at the Nanometal-coated walls, colored blue and red, just like him. Varn was an android, vaguely humanoid. He walked towards a blue door at the end of the hallway, the door to his personal quarters. When Varn got close, the door slid open, and an feminine voice spoke.[/b] [i]Welcome, Admiral Varn. I hope you've had a good day.[/i] "Sure have, Jess. Finally got rid of those pesky space-pirates. Actually got a few of them to join us. Hopefully, they'll be a help. It'll be a good change to have human company. Gets a little boring just talking to you and a bunch of myselves." [i]Oh so I'm boring now?[/i] [b]Varn laughs.[/b] "No. Of course not. It's just a nice change to meet a different personality." [b]Varn walked into his quarters, and sat down in a metallic chair near the door. Inside the room was a few tables, all empty but one. Each table had a chair, and they matched the one Varn was currently sitting on. The table that had stuff on it had small, crablike droids on it. One dropped off the tables, and hit the floor. Varn got up, and placed the droid back on the table.[/b] "I hate these guys. Why do I keep making them? For the NTR, I guess. That reminds me, I haven't talked to JT in a while. Should probably tell him what I've been up to. Just to make sure it's not illegal." [b]This was a lie, of course. He simply just missed talking to his friend, so he decided he would. He tapped a button on his shoulder, and static rang throughout his head.[/b] "Channel designation, JT. Personal. Activate." [b]He tuned to JT's comm channel, and smiled. It'd be nice to talk to him.[/b] "Hey, JT. You there?" [b]No answer.[/b] "Can you hear me? Am I on mute?" [b]Still nothing.[/b] "Okay man, stop [BLEEP]ing with me. What's up?" [b]At this point, Varn begins to get worried. He continues trying for hours, to no avail. He eventually tunes into a different channel, one of his informants.[/b] "Hey, do you happen to know where JT is?" [b]A raspy voice spoke back.[/b] [i]Last I heard, he was on Anxtria II.[/i] "Thanks." [b]Varn hangs up, and rushes to the hangar. He gets into a speeder ship, and takes off. He eventually gets to the planet, and does some asking around. He eventually gets a location, and goes to it. He goes into the building, and searches as hard as he can. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a considerable pool of blood. He looks towards it, and sees him. The corpse of his best friend. His eyes widen, and he runs over. He falls to his knees, and looks in shock. He eventually recovers, and stands back up. He leaves.[b] "I'm gonna find the [BLEEP] who did this, and they'll have a high price to pay. Their life." [b]He starts the ship, and goes back to his flagship. He takes off with his ship again, and goes to the Shield. He lands, and looks around the ship for his only remaining friend.[/b] [spoiler]Open, but be prepared for a very sad android.[/spoiler]

[i][b]Silence filled the mountaintop that morning. No birds chirped merrily at the peak, no wary travelers came to sit beneath the shade of the great oak tree at the point, it was just the grassy floor of the earth, the shade and leaves of the large tree, and the blue, clear skies. Until, molecules came. Molecules of a man, of clothes, of armour, and of his weapons. The man slowly and steadily formed himself up from the ground, allowing himself to come into this world from the ground up, starting as just a pile of molecules. The resulting man was... Odd, compared to the usual people that climb the hill daily. He bore a helmet under a lightly shaded green hood. His eyes shined a fair blue colour, his armour was the same as his hood, and his weaponry followed the exact same pattern. His swords remained in his back, locked in the holsters by the hilts that keep them from sinking into the sheath, not that the metal point of it would let the sword go through. At his hip on the right side was an SMG, loaded completely with rubber bullets. The man sat beneath the great oaken tree, taking the time to rest himself. Silence filled the mountaintop that morning. No birds chirped merrily at the peak, no wary travelers came to sit beneath the shade of the great oak tree at the point, it was just the grassy floor of the earth, the shade and leaves of the large tree, and the blue, clear skies. And Talbot. [/b][/i] ((Open, introduction))

[spoiler]ignore my previous "return" [/spoiler] A badly damaged battleship floats into the system surrounding new Terra. It is badly damaged and emitting a distress call. All attempts to raise it on the coms fail

[b]Leper Messiah[/b] It wasn't long after his killing of the previous that Bart, now 16 and withering from his downwards spiral into his insanity, took over the Rat's Eyes, a religious occult based around crime. It was mostly an adolescent association, its patrons bring unwanted children, poor and discarded miscreants who found their refuge from the hardships of reality under the blazing asphalt of the slums of Kalishar, a dank sewer, in its heart sitting the youthful godhood of the naive children. Once, after the theft and ransacking of a federal accounting cache, the riff-raff celebrated over ale, fine foods and merriment using the proceeds of the heist. The young Godhood Bart Clayton looked over his lair and disciples, a grand congregation of those who didn't meet taboos, unable to fit in under the scorching twin storms above. As the messiah feasted on succulent green grapes fresh from their vines and piping bakery bread, the children crowded around his wet pedestal, drunken and manipulated. He had them on a string, conjuring the manifest of darkness within their heads. And with that in mind, he began to weave a tale. Lighting a cigarette and sliding it between his lips, wetting them for conversation, his voice rang out intrinsic and ethereal to the false evangelists at his feet. "Have you ever heard a story of one who stood to God with a scowl and none to lose? His life ruined by the leper messiahs who rule above us, who step on common folk like gods and impose artificial laws. This working was of the The Grand Creator, the most false of self-proclaimed leaders of the world we inhabit. This man stood to God and said no to his grand principals." The children listened intently, eager to hear of this man Bart mentioned. "He had broken the law of the Universe, stood to our creator with a cowl on his head and a sword in his hand. Step by step he inched towards his Majesty, up the stairway to the domain of the gods, a gun his hands. A revolver, one black like a dark steed riding through the eternal twilight. One shot in its barrel, all he needed to end one who needed reckoning." The children were riled up, begging Bart to continue his tale as he rubbed the barrel of his chrome six-shooter. "At the top of the home of a madman with ungodly power resided in, stood this man, and with one shot down his barrel the top of the gun exploded in a blast of fire and gunpowder. The one round sliced through the air slowly, towards the head of a man with a long, white beard, old, frail. How funny it is that a figurehead so weak held so much power, as ichor sprayed from his head, the bullet perverting his skull, killing the old man. The avenger with the onyx gun grinned only for a second as he descended back down the gateway again; the man's name was Bart Clayton." "Why do we have democracy if we are truly not the rulers of ourselves, but a puppet master behind an impenetrable veil of silk decides all in the hands of luxury? Down is the Era of oppression! Down is the Era of monarchy!" The children pumped their fists repeatedly, beats of sweat moving down their foreheads. "The day of control, the day of scripted reality! Today - today is the beginning of Anarchy's reign. I will lead you all, not controlling how you act, what you do, what you stay but lead as a guiding light who compels you all to salvation. Through our inflammatory rhetoric we have crippled God, through our progressive action we have our him on his knees; and today, the tale I told, predicts his execution at my hand. Today, one thing is prevalent; I am the new ruler, not corrupt, but one that allows humanity to be feral once again, one to unshackle us from our civil binds. Today my friends..." "I become God." [spoiler]Closed! Open for your thoughts.[/spoiler]

[spoiler]Ban test.[/spoiler]

[spoiler]Because of this thread's migration to Offtopic, there will be an abundance of people commenting on this thread who will likely be trolls. That's fine, it's always been this way. Still, don't embarrass yourselves: leave them to me, and they'll leave this thread alone. Be a smartass, and you'll only invite conflict. Just leave them to me.[/spoiler]

The plates of his armor clinked as they were locked in place, connecting to his combat suit and insulating his body inside. Flexing, the synthetic muscles fibers inlaid within the suit reacted, giving him a noticeable and familiar feeling. His breathe was steady, his heart was calm.... but his mind... it was preparing. The sanction had come through several hours ago, straight from Colburn himself. It was a neutralization order, an assassination. After the events in the Assembly, and prior actions, Jack Treyman, JT's real name, had been deemed a liability, a threat to the stability between the Union. Clipping his weapons onto his side, back, and sheathes, he finally grabbed his helmet, looking at himself in the reflection. There was a reason they had assigned this to him, beyond his familiarity with JT... he was known as a Grim Reaper within the Federation, carrying his assignments with cold, ruthless efficiency. JT was no different. A assignment. A target. A display appeared on his forearm, his Comm. "Null-1, we're currently above Anxtria III." "Acknowledged." He turned the helmet forward, then placed it over his head. It hissed as it sealed, darkness briefly occupying his sight, before his HUD came online.

What is this?

[b]The Trials of the wolf[/b] There was a knock on his door, he was in the middle of a chess match with his AI Olivia, but they both knew who it was. He stood and straightened his uniform and went to the door, opening it he saw five NTR Rangers. "I'm under arrest then?" The lead ranger nodded, appearing none to happy with his task, Pavel didn't blame him, he knew they were just doing their job. He took his hat from the counter top and Exited locking his door behind him. "The charge is treason and conspiracy sir. And you aren't the only one, loyal officers are being convicted and imprisoned." The lead ranger's concern was well founded, a rain o terror was beginning and anyone strong enough to oppose the government was the target. They arrived at the detention facility and Pavel was in processed. Led to a cell he had handed over his uniform with some reluctance and been given a tan NTRDF jumpsuit to wear. He and the rest of the not yet sentenced men were held in an area away from the actual criminals who ranged from organized criminals to murderers. They still had visitation rights and phone calls, but Pavel was doubtful anyone could risk coming to speak with him. [spoiler]open[/spoiler]

[b]Olympus Has Fallen[/b] [i]New Terra; Private Assembly Room[/i] No death count could be calculated, nor approximated. Most senators and officials had been registered, but countless guards and soldiers had been aboard that ship as well, desperately attempting to flee the bombardment that had ravaged their planet. As it stood, four NTR officials and the President, three SHG representatives, a Bastion Rook, a Castle General, a Federation Praetorian, and four Alliance Officials had been confirmed KIA. Cause of death: assassinated by a mysterious traitor... Or was he a traitor? The Assembly had gathered around the large hologram of Matthew Reese, the man who had fired the Railgun. He'd been born in the Federation, just after the War between it and the Resistance and Alliance had ended, and had grown up in a time of relative peace. He had just been enlisted into the Galactic Marines when he was sent through the Breach, to scout the other side. Almost a year later, he'd been transferred to the Republic, as part of a transfer program between Union factions. That had been three months ago. The growing Xenophobia of the NTR had been growing of late, in light of recent attacks on their soil from foreign entities, and many were quick to point fingers. Just as many, however, condemned the NTR for allowing a traitor to commandeer their ship, and allowing him to kill the Officials in the first place. Tensions were high in the meeting room, and it became evident that it was up to you to defuse tensions. (Open to all. State your opinion on the situation, and [b]reply to each other[/b]) [spoiler]Oh, and to clarify, those dead are people who evacuated New Terra during the bombings. None of your characters are dead, technically. [/spoiler]

Can people stop making rp threads

[b]Legion base, Dojo area Nobody dared enter the building, after a burst of energy had locked it up, and a man stood inside, bright lights and dark shadows highlighting Hjs form It was Jared, and he was bending his keyblade to his will, forming it into a blade composed of his refined hate and anger However, two men stood outside the building, one a living weapon, his body humming with unknown energies The other a man whose medigun was active, and giving him the strength to fight through the energy By unspoken consent they fought through the energies and entered the building, to confront the man inside[/b] "I. Will. End. Them." [b]The challengers looked to each other, and then back at the maniacal soldier in front of them[/b] [i]"Do you think revenge is the best path for anything?"[/i] [b]The Tenno asked quietly[/b] [u]"I agree, what would you gain from this? Wh-"[/u] [b]Jared immediately leapt at the medic, almost killing doc if it weren't for the Blade, who kicked him back and lept after him using his Orthos to attack him[/b] "IF YOU WANT TO STOP ME YOU WILL GO, LIKE RHE BUGS YOU ARE" [b]He started another rant, but was cut short by a Crossbow bolt in his shoulder, and the Tenno's Magnus hitting him in the gut, and Jared lashed out at them, bathing the base in colors and light and energy[/b] [i]"Then you must be stopped"[/i] [b]The Tenno fired three more shots while Doc hit him with another bolt, bringing him to his knees, where Blade brought him down by a pistol whip, knocking him out[/b] [u]"where'd you learn to fight like that?"[/u] [i]"A war, a long time ago"[/i] [b]Doc picks up Jared and takes him to the med-bay, and begins treating him while the Tenno looks him over to make sure Jared would not hurt either of them[/b] [u]"Judging by his remarks and the sudden snap I'd say PTSD revealed by an event reminding him of something"[/u] [i]"There is only one cure for madness" [/i] [u]"No, there isn't"[/u] ((Open))