[b][i]Not the end I was hoping for[/i][/b] [b]Lucifer walked around the Crusader hidden to the occupants of the vessel but they could sense his presence although it was weaker and seemed fragile, he stopped to observe them as he lit a cigarette before he revealed himself and continued walking leaving a blue smoke trail from his cigarette as he headed to the hangar with a heavy weight on his shoulders from the realization he was likely going to find a final resting place[/b] My time is coming soon...still too much I haven't done [b]he pulls a pocket watch out of his coat and checks the time before slipping it back into his pocket and leaning against the wall laughing to himself before he sat down, he seemed broken inside as he quickly finished the cigarette letting out the smoke through his mouth and nostrils with a growl before lighting another[/b] Whatever bottomless pit I'm thrown into I may regret some of the things I've done but I savored every moment I can [spoiler]part one is when the crew witnesses his death, well now it's time to crush the hearts of those that know him well[/spoiler]

[b][i][u]Time for answers[/u][/i][/b] As an [url=http://i.imgur.com/IuIHcmo.jpg]advanced Alliance fighter[/url] jumps out of FTL followed closely by [url=http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/starwars/images/0/0c/Rogue_Shadow_TFUII.png/revision/latest?cb=20131122232031]Phoenix's shuttle[/url], a message is sent out to the Crusader from the incoming fighter on an open frequency: "Attention, crew of the Crusader, this is SilverPulse620 requesting permission to land in the main hanger bay. I have Magnetar on board to be questioned by you guys. He was rather unwilling to cooperate with us and we think you guys may have more luck."-Silver On board the Crusader, a message is sent to JT that X1 is alive and waiting in the medbay to be questioned about the events during the Afflicted attack. As the fighter and shuttle both land in the hanger of the Crusader, [url=http://orig10.deviantart.net/0420/f/2015/343/c/b/my_persona_in_garry_s_mod_by_benoski-d9jktmw.jpg]Silver[/url] steps out of his fighter and starts to escort a handcuffed [url=https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/1a/1c/80/1a1c80326a778b56ade37b3e4ca2982c.jpg]Magnetar[/url] as [url=http://orig09.deviantart.net/5461/f/2015/330/4/2/ninja_assassin_sa_by_nerkin-d9i2ngq.jpg]Phoenix[/url] covers their six. Meanwhile, [url=http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/halo/images/d/d6/MJOLNIR_Venator.png/revision/latest?cb=20130114221050]X1[/url] sits on her bed in the medbay, awaiting her interrogator. [spoiler]Open to all, though mostly to Alpha, JT, Shadow, and Da Spoon. [/spoiler]

[i]deep space, near Jared and alpha ' s ships[/i] A ship ( https://www.google.co.uk/search?q=planetside+2+scythe&client=ms-android-samsung&prmd=ivsn&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwicm7qRjcfPAhVBI8AKHc5IDVQQ_AUIBygB&biw=360&bih=559#imgdii=rqBO0hu3VSmv7M%3A%3BJbOs9KVF1wT6BM%3A%3BJbOs9KVF1wT6BM%3A&imgrc=JbOs9KVF1wT6BM%3A it had no active weapons systems. It sent a message to both Jared and Alpha's craft //start I wish to speak with you. It's about Silver. //end

*kicks thread* Looks alive to me.

[spoiler]Character Bios: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/207943233/0/0/1 https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/208815135/0/0/1 https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/211042083/0/0/1 I [i]think[/i] that's all of them. ._.[/spoiler] [b]Been a While[/b] [u]Location:[/u] [unknown] It was nighttime. A dim cave was lit by a small campfire, giving off billows of orange light and yellow sparks. Inside was a silver feminine figure, sitting curled against the wall of the cave and beside the campfire, twiddling with a stick and poking the flames. She hadn't a mouth, and her body was a smooth, metallic silver color, dripping small silver drops that fell to the floor and slid to a corner of the cave, gathering into a large gray puddle. Earlier, she had woken up from what seemed to be months-long slumber, and gathered nearby resources to form a small camp. Strangely enough, she couldn't remember who she was--or what she was. Thoughtfully, she looked into her right hand, which was sleek and reflective; she looked at the distorted reflection of her face. She saw a pair of blank, white eyes, the only feature on her face. Strange, she thought. Had she always been like this? Was she human before, or another race? Suddenly, a disturbing thought appeared in her mind. Did she have a family? Are they dead? Are they alright? Do they know if she's alive? Exhausted, she got up from her spot, noticing the large puddle she left from where she sat. She sighed; it was getting everywhere. Curiously, she walked out to the mouth of the cave to glance outside. [spoiler]open[/spoiler]

Expect the Scourge of God.

*The big collapse finally happens and ends this shitty rp* The end

What is this RP about?

*Mortar looks around in his room. It's obvious he is deep in thought. Many things have happened in the past couple months, The Afflicted, Silver returning and X1 both dying and coming back to life. It just seems to be too much for him to figure out. So much to figure out, to find out what is happening. However, instead of figuring it out himself, he takes out a strange metal rod, one with hexagonal touch screens around it. He seems to open a portal with it and step through* Members of the Arrowhead! I am here for peace! [spoiler]open to all, I'm bored. The portal isn't quite closed yet[/spoiler]

[b][i][u]Awakening[/u][/i][/b] With the crew having left the Crusader to fight the Afflicted, the ship had become quite empty and quite, aside from the normal sounds of the ship keeping itself operational. However, a new sound now started to fill the near silence in the medbay as someone in a [url=http://pre06.deviantart.net/5a16/th/pre/f/2015/033/a/6/a6b7f312dd5dc7fde4ea515de1735f51-d8ggjef.png]strange mask[/url] and civilian clothes started to awaken and open her eyes. As she did so, she slowly started to rise from the medical bed and look around, seeing that she was hooked up to a machine that was monitoring her vitals and that there was a pile of gear nearby. She turns to the monitors and pulls out the wires attached to her and walks over to the pile to find it contained some graphine and carbon nanotube armor, a tachyon pistol, and two blue bladed lightsabers with MBD technology. She takes the gear, puts on the armor, equips the weapons, and starts to make her way out of the medbay, seeming to not recognize the place she was in. [spoiler]Open to the invading smugglers or anyone still on board for whatever reason.[/spoiler] [b][i][u]Before the storm[/u][/i][/b] Down on the surface of the planet of the Afflicted, Phoenix could be seen checking his plasma shotgun, making sure it was ready for combat soon. [spoiler]Open to those on the surface of the planet. [/spoiler]

[b][i]That Familiar... Empty Feeling[/i][/b] [b][u]Lobster Dinner, Deep Space[/u][/b] [b]The cold fringe of space rocked the LD back and forth gently as cradled the large ship...[/b] [b]Damien sat in the lounge, his leg moving up and down anxiously as he prepared himself mentally... This was going to open old wounds... He'd relive things he would have rather left buried... Forever gone... But he had no choice... This was for Lance... This was for Annibelle.[/b] [i]"Hey... You okay...?"[/i] [b]Nikki asked from behind him, a worried look on her face... Her father never seemed anxious... Not like this.[/b] [i]"Agh...! Yeah, yeah... I'm good."[/i] [b]He says, clearing his throat and quickly pulling a smoke from the small box on the glass table opposite of his seat. He was shirtless, donning what was left his muscle and skin to show off plating an augments. Two metal arms... A metal neck... A spinal chord augment... And of course the chest plate that only revealed his pectoral muscles... The less clothes... The better. The heat might kill him.[/b] [i]"Hey... It's gonna be okay..."[/i] [b]Nikki quickly swooped in next to her father and wrapped an arm around his back. They had just started to reconnect, and now Damien was slipping away into that familiar dark place... The wild look in his eye. The crazed fear and guilt...[/b] [i]"If anything is wrong you can tell me..."[/i] [i]"It's not like that... I'm helping a friend. That's all... We'll be done in a few hours... And if we aren't... Get Lucien... He will know what to do."[/i] [b]Nikki raised an eyebrow but only nodded in compliance. She wasn't willing to argue with him... Not like this. It might push him farther away.[/b] [b]Getting to his feet, Damien felt a pulse of dread launch through his body as he leaned against the wall to the hallway, rolling the unlit cigarette between two metal fingers.[/b] [b]With a snap of his fingers, the cigarette lights and he puts the butt end between his upper lip and lower metal jaw... Now was not the time for fear. He needed to be strong... This was gonna take every little once of power he had... And then some.[/b] [spoiler]Open to Ginga for development. Open to Bear if he wasn't to chat with Nikki.[/spoiler]

[b]Miscalculation Uncharted Space, near Outpost Whiskey ====================== The AI onboard the cargo cruiser [i]Unto Dawn[/i] had made a simple mistake in the calculations of its Warp Drive. It exited with an asteroid several times its size. The resulting detonation of its Warp Drive let loose a massive out burst of relatively harmless radiation, although it made itself known on NTR scanners as well as Covenant tech. The Covenant dispatched clean up crews immediately, while the NTR was slower to reply.[/b] [b]====================== NTR Crusader, several hundred lightyears from the explosion. --------------------------------------------------- The massive gamma burst sent the ship into high alert, not many natural causes could make bay kind of an outburst, the only reason was artificial. No charted events where in the area, which either meant a mistake in a slip space drive, or something involving pirates or smugglers. Either way, members of the ship were sent to investigate.[/b] [spoiler]open, investigate the cause of the explosion, maybe find a bit extra as well[/spoiler]

[b]AM-4: We called her Ama.[/b] Ama: https://imgur.com/NR5eD2I Space pirate "Masks": https://imgur.com/dIUXLvw Wandering in the scrap yard has become a bit of a habit for Ama. Thoughts fill her head of possibilities of what chances there are of finding out more of what has become of the lab in which she was brought to life in. But more importantly what happened to the man who was like a father to her, Doctor Everest. Everest was a young and recently hired on scientists upon Mantle Corporation and he had shown great promise. In his time he worked upon the biology division working on genetic structure and the crossing of various organisms. At the time there were three planned templates in mind. These templates were more brute strength with only the capacity to follow orders simply built to be rented out and eventually disposed of. It was a very cold practice but something Mantle had done for years which has kept the lab well funded and protected. Ama however, was a very different case. She could think, could feel, can act out on her own terms. She was dangerous. How could a company allow a being with powers such as hers to roam free on a usually controlled setting? Everest didn't see a problem with it. In fact he took the time to teach her and interact with her as if she were another human being. Ultimately she was more of a colleague than a simple test subject. One thing that was clear about the Doctor was he wasn't exactly the same as the others. He was a bit of a raving fan of old comic books and very into video games. He drove his colleagues insane with the pranks he would pull. One time he took it too far and created a Russian speaking monkey which would repeat any phrase he heard and repeat it in Russian. He was temporarilty suspended from working with genetics for that one... Perhaps that is where her personality quirks came from. While it was fun while it lasted eventually word got out about a young woman made within Mantle that was built to perform extremely well in combat and potentially worth a massive fortune to the right government. Rumors circulated for some time until late it reached the ears of a pirate group that went by the name "Masks". For them this was too good an opportunity to pass up and for them, there were not moral ethics. If someone got in the way, kill them all. Their assault tore the laboratory to shreds hunting down Ama with the intent to sell her off to the highest bidder. Everest just wouldn't let that happen. He hastily made his way to the stasis escape pods and had tricked Ama into escaping without him. He destroyed any data that could be used to find or replicate her and what had become of him is simply a mystery. She finds an old arc welder and a few replacement parts for her restriction gear and gets to work. A gift to her to help her touch the world without making it whither. She wonders where he is and laughs at the thought he probably snuck off onto one of the pirates ships quoting The Lone Ranger yelling "High ho silver and away!". He always was simply one mad scientist. [spoiler]So just for the people who didn't read the Bio for Ama she is crossed with plants and due to this without restriction gear she has to actively keep herself from expelling poison from her skin. Pretty much the gear makes life easier for her. PS: it's that cloak she wears.[/spoiler] [spoiler]first time trying out giving a character of mine a backstory so hopefully it was good. Wanted it to be a little light hearted but still serious enough. Open for suggestions! [/spoiler]

[b][i]Our souls may be consumed by shadows, but that doesn't mean we have to behave as monsters. [/i][/b] [b][i]Flashback Undisclosed Location Several Months Ago.[/i][/b] Eight deaths. Eight people that were no longer there, six of them dead because I had an association to them, Lance thought to himself as he kneeled in front of the tombstones. He was on the back lawns of his rural manse, sprawling acres of green behind a massive brick structure that was his and his kids house. It was surrounded by a wrought iron gate, complete with a numerous amount of space in the actual house, not to mention the huge pool and other recreational activities on all the land he owned. Stuff he'd bought with money, he'd killed people for, he thought bitterly. He turned his attention back to the headstones, eight of them lined up neatly. They're were no actual bodies... Lance had made sure their families had that closure, except for Jonathan Rorik and Ava. Jonathan had no living family, and Lance had done his old friend the kindness of burying him, himself. And Ava.. Lance and his kids had buried their mother, his wife. The others, Alec Miles, Tabitha Miles, Audrey Carson, Zoey Holland, and his parents, Chris and Jennifer May. Murdered by the same man, all because Lance had failed to do anything about it. He laid the usual Malovos on the eight headstones, black roses he always brought. He shook his head bitterly. They were dead, and that's what they got. Exotic flowers. He started with the end tombstone, reciting words that he'd said so many times with small alterations in an attempt to gain some kind of closure. "Jon.. I named Jonathan after you. He's taken to knives, and I know you would've had a stroke if you'd known someone with your name was touching such a weapon." Lance says with a bitter smile. "You always thought a sword was the way to go, but I know you'd like the kid. He's beyond a prodigy with them, and he's always said he wanted to meet you. The guy who taught his dad, what he taught him. I just hope you're up there sparring with whatever poor bastard picks a fight with you." Lance said, a lump in his throat as he walked down to the next set of stones, the four that had the names of his friends that he'd gotten murdered so long ago. "Zoey, Alec, Audrey, Eve, thank you guys. I wouldn't have lasted long on my own, and I'm ever grateful that you guys ran with me for those years. Some of the best ones I ever had. Every one of you was loyal to a fault, even when that bastard took a blade to your skin.. Not one of you gave me up. I hope I'm doing right by you guys. I hope-" Lance choked down a sob, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he ran his fingertips over their headstones, walking down to the next pair. "Mom.. Dad.. I love you guys." Lance said, the words a knife in his heart as he choked them out, tears flowing freely now, dropping on his parent's tombstone. It never got easier, to Hell with whatever anyone else said, it didn't get easier. "I know you would've killed him in a fair fight Dad. He never had a damn thing on you, but I got him. I killed him, just like he killed you and Mom... I hope I'm making you proud, I know Ashley and Jonathan would've loved their grandparents." Lance said quietly, the last words coming out in a choked voice, his tears pouring down his cheeks and tortured sobs racked his chest. He made his way down to the last headstone, falling to his knees in front of it as he wept uncontrollably. "I'm sorry Ava. I'm sorry I couldn't go back and save you. I'm sorry you don't get to see what our kids are growing up to be." He said, his words little more than strangled cries at this point, his knuckles white as his fingernails dig divots into his palms. "They both look just like you, Jon is a total joker and laughs all the time, just how you were. Ashley is so beautiful, and she wishes you could see her. She acts like a hardass with Jon, but she's said it before to him. Even cried about it. They just wish you were here hon, and so do I." Lance said, closing his eyes and holding his face in his hands. At that moment he felt two sets of arms wrap around his shoulders, Ashley and Jonathan holding their father while he wept for all of his loved ones. Ashley and Jon hadn't known any of these people, even their mother, but when their father hurt, they hurt. They kneeled next to their Dad, eyes wet while he let his grief out, the grief and anguish he'd had to deal with for so many years, and still was, and would forever. [spoiler]Open to questions, comments, criticism, all are appreciated. Just a look into the character that no one knows much about. The parts that count anyway. [/spoiler]

[b][i]An old acquaintance, from a different dimension. Lobster Dinner.[/i][/b] "Son of a-!" [i] Ian yelled as he was adjusting the pressure valve on his armor's Waterjet, spraying himself in the face with a blast of water. [/i] "I swear to the Flying Spaghetti Monster if I do that one more time.." [i]He mumbled, wiping his face off with the bottom of his t-shirt, putting the wrench down and walking over to the corner of his room. There was a mini fridge, something he made sure to install as soon as he got the chance. He pulled a can of melon soda out, chuckling at the thought of the girl back on the JU who'd got him hooked on it. Suddenly, there was a distinctive dinging coming from down the hall. Almost like a phone call, but in space. Someone was trying to contact them. Since it was still ringing, Ian took it upon himself to walk to the cockpit and answer it himself. Their main comms receiver was in the shape of an old phone with a rotary dial, Ian's personal touch. He lifted the receiver to his ear.[/i] "This is the Lobster Dinner, how may we help you?" [i]He said in his best customer service voice. The voice on the other end replied, a cold and metallic voice that gave Ian the creeps immediately.[/i] "I'm looking for Damien Lordan." [i] Ian rose an eyebrow at the speaker's request.[/i] "Who's calling?" "Kid, just tell them Ronin is calling. I don't have time for secretary check-ins." [i] Ian shrugged, put the phone down on the panel, pressing the intercom button for the ship. [/i] "Damien, someone's on the phone for you." [spoiler]Chesh. [/spoiler]

[b][i]Heartache[/i][/b] [i]I've shed many tears Seems I can't shed no more You can see them on the table You can see 'em on the floor Now I said hang on, hang on Black lung heartache I've seen many men They become hard as nails Carrying the hammers like keys to a jail Now I said hang on, hang on Black lung heartache Now I said so long, so long -Joe Bonamassa[/i] [b]South Vietnam, 1968[/b] [i]The Huey descended amongst four others, rotors blowing the grass down as they hovered just above the ground. They each bore the proud insignia of the United States on their tails, and were painted the traditional military green. Inside, the five soldiers climbed out in a hurry amidst the gunfire and chaos, enemy rounds kicking up dirt mere inches in front of them. Major Anthony "Tony" Wolfe climbed out, M16 in hand, his beret atop his head, a pair of aviators on. Like the others, he wore the jungle-tiger camouflage pattern that distinguished the SOG operators, a status of his efficiency and ranking amongst the groups of soldiers currently fighting in the jungles and marshes of Indochina. On his hip, opposite his M1911, a large Bowie knife, sitting in a leather sheath, strapped to his leg. Moving with his men, they put distance between themselves and the helicopters as they thundered back into the sky. Roaring upwards, the birds fired into the treelike on the enemy, their door-mounted machine guns spitting flame and lead. The helicopters headed up and away, only to be followed in by jets, F-4 Phantoms. Two of them had been orbiting and watching the battlefield, a clearing between two dense patches of jungle, marshy in places. Tony Wolfe and his men pushed forwards and up the hill, firing their rifles into the tree line, letting off carefully controlled bursts. As Tony dropped to the ground to reload, he could hear bullets hissing through the grass near him, the smell of burnt foliage pungent. Slapping a magazine into the rifle, he stood up and pushed forwards again, and now he could see who he was shooting at. They looked like civilians, wearing the clothes that the average Vietnamese citizen would wear, with the wide-brimmed rice hats, which hat been decorated with twigs and leaves to serve as camouflage. Major Wolfe was positive that he had hit three or four of them, watching as they shuddered, three small bits of metal ripping out of each of their backs. Overhead, the two Phantoms shrieked across the sky, and in seconds, the tree line was ablaze, a recoiling explosion ripping through the air. Incendiary bombs, napalm. The blast had staggered him, forcing him to regain his stance...[/i] [b]November 8, 2010, Detroit, Michigan, United States[/b] [i]The Major awoke from his dream to find that he was not in Vietnam again, but rather lying in his own bed. He could barely move, and he knew his time was coming. He could feel it, it was hard to breath, it was hard to eat, to sit up, all he wanted was to sleep, but he had woken up for a reason, the door to his room being opened by a boy of no more than twelve, his blue eyes sad, his wavy chestnut hair covering his ears, and just barely falling into his face. He was tanned, and fairly thin, average height for his age. The lively-looking lad was a stark contrast to the thinning, greying, and dying sixty-four year old. The Major looked over to his son, drawing in a painful breath. [/i] "Come here, son." [i]He said with strained effort. The boy approached timidly, eying his father silently. The old man patted his hand on the bed for the child to sit beside him, the boy doing as instructed. He feared what would happen if he didn't. The war had changed his father, he was sometimes jumpy, but always very strict, sometimes blowing up on the boy for no reason. Looking to his father, his eyes becoming wet with held-back tears. He knew what was coming. The cancer was eating his dad's lungs. He wasn't going to make it to Christmas, let alone Thanksgiving.[/i] "Son, I need to tell you something I didn't tell you enough." [i]He paused, drawing in another breath.[/i] "No matter what happens, and through everything... I love you with all my heart... I want you to know that. I want you to remember that.... Even when I'm gone, I'll be with you." [i]He fumbled for something on his nightstand, eventually grasping it, and presenting it to the boy. In his shaking hand was a large Bowie knife, sitting in its sheath, a red bandana tied around the bottom. [/i] "Your granddaddy bought this knife for me when I was fifteen... I was gonna give it to you on your fifteenth birthday, but I'm not gonna get a chance... This knife saved my life, many a time in the jungle." [i]He coughed, he could taste his own blood, and yet he smiled.[/i] "Son that time over there is killing me... I thought I got away from it, I thought I was gonna live... Turns out I ended up gettin' a fate worse then some of my friends who went down with a bullet in their chests... Agent Orange took the jungle, and now it's takin' me. You take care of that knife, boy. You take real good care of that. And if you have a son someday, pass it on down to him when that time comes." [i]The boy took the knife, and laid it on the bed. For the last time in his life, Cody Wolfe hugged his father tightly, tears in his eyes. In less than five minutes, Anthony Wolfe would pass away, lung cancer besting a man who had served his time in hell.[/i] [b]December 25, 2039, Elizabeth City, North Carolina[/b] [i]Christmas that year had been wonderful, family had been around, the weather was fair, and a sense of jollyness hung in the air like mistletoe. A spitting image of his father, albeit with blonde hair, Jackson Wolfe had made out like a bandit, as most only children did. A dirt bike, a new deer rifle, several novels, gift cards, posters from his favorite bands, everything a teenager in a semi-rural area could want. He'd spent most of the morning riding his dirt bike up and down the road like a maniac, eventually tearing down the gravel driveway, skidding to a stop in front of the garage, which his father had open. Cody Wolfe sat back on the hood of his Mustang, arms crossed, smiling at his son. He was so proud, so happy the kid was getting a better life than he had. No running with gangs, no Christmases without gifts, no parents arguing all the time. God, it felt good to be out and away from everything he had done with Schrader and Venom Incorporated. He felt like he was living a new life. Before him, Jackson climbed off of the bike, taking off his helmet and shaking out his hair, and straightening his white hoodie.[/i] "Jackson, come here bud." [i]His father shouted from the garage. Obliging, the boy trotted over to his father, helmet under his arm.[/i] "Yeah?" [i]He asked, sounding like he was coming off of an adrenaline rush.[/i] "Got something else for you." [i]From behind his back, the boy's father picked up the large Bowie knife, the blade sitting in its sheath, a red bandana tied around the bottom. [/i] "It belonged to your granddad. He carried this knife with him in Vietnam, I carried it with me in the Middle East. He gave it to me on the day that he died, and he told me that when you got old enough, that I was to give it to you. He was fifteen when your great-grandad gave it to him as a birthday gift. You're fifteen, and it's my Christmas gift to you, besides the other stuff." [i]Cody Wolfe said with a smile, bestowing the knife upon his son. [/i] [i]Jackson took the blade, and carefully turned it over in his hands before finally sliding it from its sheath, getting a feel for its weight. The blade was clean, polished to a reflective shine, and it was massive. The awe wore off, however, when he realized that this knife had also been what his father was carrying as a mercenary with Venom Incorporated. That blade had ended many innocent people, as well as many corrupt people. Jackson stood there silently, confused about how to respond. After a moment of mental deliberation, he spoke.[/i] "Thank you." [i]With that, he slid the blade back into its sheath and headed inside, straight-faced. His father stood silently as the boy walked off, figuring that that was likely the response he would get. He felt a pang of great depression, saddened, and he soon followed his son inside. Cody Wolfe would die merely a few hours later, in the arms of his son.[/i] [b]Present Day, Bar in the NTR Fringe Territory[/b] [i]The joint was empty, not a soul inside except a single bartender and a long figure sitting at the bar. Jackson Wolfe was not usually a bar kind of guy, but here he was, helmet up on the counter beside him. He held the very same knife in his hands, wiping it with the very same red bandana. He wore his father's armor, and carried all of his combat gear. He wasn't much a drinker, or even much of a social person. Lately he'd been fairly melancholy, and he just felt that a trip to the bar was appropriate. Some days were worse than others, today was one of those days. As he cleaned the blade, all he could hear were his father's words.[/i] "It belonged to your grandad. He carried this knife with him in Vietnam, I carried it in the Middle East." [i]And so he sat, reliving his memories...[/i] [spoiler]Open[/spoiler]

Reported and muted.

[b][i]Moving through the jungle he moved quickly. Sliding down branches and tree limbs as he kept moving. His analysis goggles scanning for creatures. As he moved out of the jungle he placed his feet against the wall of a ruin. Riding it as his boots propelled him forward. The rain beating down on him as he jumped off. Hovering over the water on the ground he moved forward with a sigh. He had been here far too long so long that he lost track. Either way he needed to get food and a new shelter from the rain. His last one was destroyed by a "kavoloris?" At least that's why's the analysis reading in the goggles read. He had no clue what it meant but he knew one thing. A giant bull with venom was bad news. Pulling the blade off his side he jumped climbing a tree. Boosting up slightly as he moved. A "parviskis" would be an easy meal. The little birds could fight but had brittle bones. Making it so easy, he looked around as he saw some twirling the blade. He threw it the blade smashing into top of the medium sized creatures. A crunching noise as there black feathers seemed to collapse. He shook his head he didn't like doing this but he needed to eat. Grabbing the two he looked at a cave nearby. Grabbing the blade and the creatures be moved. Jumping from tree to tree he saw a cave. Sliding off a branch he jumped is boots propelling him forward slightly as he landed. Grabbing some of the wood from his pack he tossed the wood down. Pulling out his bow he mumbled phoenix as his bow had a red glow to it. His hand producing an energy arrow as it fired at the wood igniting. Putting the bow back up he looked at his hand. The symbol had changed again. Now a red bird he sighed as he grabbed the creatures. Placing them over the fire. [/i][/b] [spoiler]open intro to Lance :3[/spoiler]

[i]Arc 2 Part 5: Temple of Blood and Bone. (1) If it wasn't the damn miasma that covered the air around the Crusader Team that was getting to them, it was the dwindling numbers and corpses of fallen races that resisted their queen that was. The team marched southeast of their insertion point as instructed by General Treyman, who stood at the front of the marching unit, five feet between him and the next man as it was for all soldiers, in case of tripwires and planted mines from the Afflicted. The mountains beneath them soon became a desert as one of the five scorching suns beat down on the unit and forced them to sweat heavily, but they still valiantly pushed ahead. They had to, else the Queen and her Afflicted would take it as a sign of weakness. She was always watching, always waiting for a chance to strike out. The purple haze that surrounded each of the Soldiers, Marines and Crusaders was a lethal dose so everybody was issued a gas mask in order to help them live through whatever would happen to them for inhaling the gasses. One Marine breathed in the toxic air, and soon after he went rogue, his skin shifted to that of a Charon and a second set of arms were grown. He took down three men before his unit managed to put down the Afflicted who chose to breathe out of the oxygen discs handed out to each person, foolish. If that didn't bring down everybody's spirits and drop morale then hell, nothing would. Then in the distance, a doorframe was seen, made of flesh and bones with rivers of marrow running beneath a bloody drawbridge. Then the rest of the temple came into sight as the miasma uncovered itself, and several towers of nothing but corpses and décor of plasma was seen. Afflicted soldiers in the millions rested inside, so the NTR employed a tactic to take on the menace that was in. They couldn't take the Afflicted inside out, or understand why a colony of them was in the temple here, but they still made a tactical decision to, and I quote general Treyman's exact words, "Blow them to hell and back." So the Crusader came from orbit and an Alamo-Class Battleship was sent to retrieve the Crusader crew, who for whatever reason was not being harassed in the slightest by the Afflicted. If anything they were being greeted peacefully, as a squad of Afflicted Infectors were dispatched without their weaponry to carry a message for the crew. General JT spoke with their messengers as they somehow spoke to him in the English tongue, before he turned to his men and spoke. "Well boys, time for a field trip. If you'd like to leave, get on the Alamo-Class ship. If you're feeling adventurous, follow me." It was true though. JT and his men attacked the Afflicted first by invading their planet. Why the Crusader was assaulted by the Afflicted, nobody can say for certain, nobody but JT and the others on the War Council. [/I] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ [i]Arc 2 Part 5: Temple of Blood and Bone. (2) The temple's inner workings were horrrific yet astounding by all means. Cogs made from wheel-shaped skulls of past races that assaulted the Afflicted, turning and powering the waterfalls of marrow and crimson blood that power the inside of the building. Lights and chandeliers hand from the ceiling to sway back and forth, providing light from severed heads of any Afflicted assaulters. A grand table sits in a square, all surrounding a sngle, lonesome entity. The figure had flowing white hair atop her head and a set of completely blackened armour with some sort of engravements on it, adorned wwith what looks to be a bronzish colour to it. She looked very similar to a human woman but how or why is unknown to all. Her crown rests atop her head in a red and black colour, reminiscent of only the edgiest crowns of all. "Welcome all of you," She began to say with a friendly tone, as Afflicted Stalkers all waited on balconies with Infectors n case someone were to try and assault their queen. Hell, a Colossus stands tall outside with hundreds more, watching the Alamo-Class Battleship n case it returns for some sort of Kamikaze. "To the Grand Temple of... What do you call this planet in your tongue, Valinus?" [/I] ((This post is a relaxed meal with the Queen. This will also decde her opinion of humanity and if they should be eradicated, so good luck and don't -blam!- up.)) (( http://imgur.com/a/MiopT ))

[b]Snags FOB Silence, Commune Center 0300 Hours =======================[/b] [b]Black Team stood in the middle of a dimly lit room, the area lit around them by a light. Eight figures where seen sitting in a half circle before them, the desk they sat at was higher up than the floor. They whispered among themselves, these where the Spooks, the Top Brass, the ghosts of the Covenant themselves. High Command, or known by their proper names, PVI. One of them spoke[/b] [i]"... Jupiter, your head cam shows an armored behemoth, your team engaging them as you fired the...?"[/i] [b]He trails off, forgetting the name of the rifle she used.[/b] [i]"MAC Rifle, Model IKELOS."[/i] [i]"Thank you, and as you can see here-"[/i] [b]He points to a screen behind them[/b] [i]"The behemoth leaked anti-matter, something we have used, but have banned due to its destructive properties."[/i] [i]"The behemoth then self healed, and it seems to be and act sentient, meaning it was made by the NTR"[/i] [b]Another chimed in[/b] [i]"We will have to examine this more, they are far more capable than previously expected, although our main goal is not war, we must be prepared for one at all costs."[/i] [b]The Team shuffled anxiously [/b] [i]"You four may go, get rest and do whatever it is Predators do"[/i] [b]The team left the room then, as the eight representatives continued their discussion.[/b]

[b][i]Old Habits Die Hard[/i][/b] [i]"Tell me I'm a sinner, I got news for you I spoke to God this morning and he don't like you" -Ozzy Osbourne [/i] [b]Orbit of a Fringe World Moon, NTR Frontier[/b] [i]The transport gunship that the mercenaries had purchased remained in the orbit of a moon in the furthest reaches of the NTR's territory. Finally named, by Wilson, the ship was lovingly called "The War Pig," Motörhead's Snaggletooth adorning the fuselage as art. Sitting inside around the small table in the dining room, three of the most notoriously effective and efficient soldiers sat, discussing recent plans.[/i] Lance is no, mate. Doesn't want to put his neck on the line with 'is kids around. I can't blame him. Kid's got a heart of gold. [i]the first, Nicholas Clarkson, better known as Crow, said. [/i] F*CK! [i]shouted Alex Wilson, slamming a power-armored fist into the table.[/i] I was kinda hopin' the b*stard would say yes.... Oh well. To h*ll with it. I'm guessin' Arrowhead's still on board with this. That's who I'm countin' on for payment, aside from what you can take from them when they're dead. [i]Wolfe spoke up, voice calm.[/i] Doing this is going to paint a massive target on our backs. Wolfie, I live with a massive target on my back. This is child's play. [i]Wilson retorted, laughing.[/i] Jackson's got a point, mate. Dangerous game hunting down supersoldiers from a massive allied set of empires. Danger's my middle f*ckin' name, Birdie Boy. [i]Crow shot Wilson a gaze that clearly conveyed his distaste for the name, but did little more. [/i] What's the pay? [i]he asked, changing the subject.[/i] Gotta talk to the weird goat-kid or one of the smugglers on that one. Ain't too sure but I bet it's damn nice. How many of them are there? [i]Wolfe asked, looking to Wilson.[/i] Ain't sure. All I know is I want them dead, the smugglers want them dead, and the one guy was beating up a kid. [i]Wilson replied with a shrug.[/i] [i]Crow and Wolfe sat silently in thought, until Wolfe spoke.[/i] You get the smugglers onboard, we lure these guys out and bag them. You don't do it quick you'll have an entire military on us, which isn't going to go well for any of the involved parties. He's right, lad. The only way to kill a lamb is to lure her away from her shepherd. [i]Crow replied.[/i] How soon do you want this bloody idea set into motion? Soon as we can get the others ready to rock. I'm gettin' f*ckin' impatient. [spoiler]Open to the Arrowhead guys and anyone else who knows what this is about.[/spoiler]