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Posts posted by Nyx
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updated the fuckers i play
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Meta-Physical Therapy Report
MP-T ~ Session One
Therapist: Dr. Brian G. Privali
Psychic Operative: MSpc. Jyn A. Baronia
Patient: Sgt. Naomi M. Hawthorne
Audience: Lt. Adien F. Levin - Military Intelligence
Date: 08/09/2298
<Recording START>
BP: Good evening, Ms. Hawthorne. Please, take a seat.
** The sound of metal scraping against a tile floor is heard as the woman sits down at the table. Her hands immediately fold together, and sit directly infront of her.
BP: Right. So, let's dive right into it. The reported symptoms as of late. Insomnia, night terrors, lack of appetite, irritability, psychic fatigue, social isolation, detachment, and occasional hostility. Does this sound accurate, Naomi?
NH: It does, Sir.
BP: Have you been taking the prescribed medication issued at the last appointment?
NH: -- I stopped last week, Sir.
BP: And why is that, Naomi?
NH: I don’t… I don’t like the side effects, Sir. They don’t even -work-. The dreams just get longer, and... Is there anything else I can take?
BP: Very well then, Hawthorne. We’ll switch you to another medication; as promised last time; and at the next appointment, we’ll discuss how this newer one affects you. Sound good?
NH: Yes, Sir.
** The shuffling of papers is heard, and the tapping of the man in the back of the room’s foot is heard.
BP: Lieutenant Levin is the gentleman behind you. He’s simply here to observe how your recovery is going, as well as gather some intelligence to better understand what happened down there. We'll start off with this. Can you tell me why you've refused to speak about the assault on Terra so far? Mind you, I understand the trauma you may have suffered under the assault, but we need some semblance of cooperation from you, if we are to learn -anything-.
NH: I can't remember it, Sir.
BP: Is it that you can't remember it, or is it that you don't want to?
NH: (No response)
BP: Hawthorne?
NH: I don't know, Sir.
BP: -- Very well. In that case, the specialist will be assisting in helping you recollect your memories.
** The shuffle of footsteps is heard as the woman in the back corner approaches, a purple beret sat atop her short, brown hair. She spoke with a thick southern American accent.
JB: Evenin', Miss. If you could jus' scrunch up your sleeve for me there-- That's it, just like that. Thank you plenty, deary.
BP: Now, Miss Baronia here is quite capable, so you can relax, Hawthorne. You're in good hands.
NH: -- Of course, Sir.
BP: I want you to take deep breaths, and allow Miss Baronia to help you. Open your mind up to her, and you will be able to leave as soon as you got here.
** Silence fills the room as the operative begins her work on Hawthorne.
עֲזָאזֵל
SpoilerTel-Aviv, Israel
Terra
12-26-2298
‘Sheol’
** FROM THE DUST, WE CAN STILL RISE **
“Hawth, wake the -fuck- up!”
Sergeant Hawthorne felt a jerk on her vest straps, as the Polish woman screamed in her ear. Hawthorne tilted her head back to see the tattered face of Lance Corporal Emeliah as she pulled Naomi away from the burning APC. Upon an observation of Naomi’s surroundings, she realized just how bad things had turned.
“ -- Where’s the EVAC, Bonnie? The civilians? Where -are- we?” Hawthorne blurted out as she came to her senses, grabbing at her carbine as Emeliah helped her to her feet behind the corner of a building.
“It was supposed to come around ten -fuckin’- minutes ago. Richards is-- Where the fuck is our RTO, Rex!?”
Staff Sergeant Rex sat crouched behind a downed civilian helicopter in the middle of the street as he reloaded his Morita. He seemed to have half of a corpse sitting next to him, it’s legs attached to a smoldering pelvis, obviously melted by plasma.
“He’s KIA, and the LRR went with him. Ell Tee’s got one working near the meet-up. We’re pulling back there soon. Get ready to beat fucking feet. -- Is Hawthorne mobile?”
“Yeah, she’s good to shoot, Staff.”
“Good shit, let’s get a mo--”
Suddenly, the scream of two TAC fighters, as well as the strange hum of a Progenitor craft flying overhead seemed to drown out any other sound. Blue streaks poured out from the front of the progenitor craft, engulfing one of the TACs in a ball of plasma.The other seeming to have a wing removed, and dipped it’s nose down, slamming into the street about fifty feet in front of the trio of troopers.
As such, the trio was sent onto their rears as the blastwave shook the earth for a moment. Miraculously, no one was hurt. All that the troopers had were ringing ears, and dirt covered faces. They looked to one another, Emeliah being the first to get on her feet, and immediately check on Hawthorne, patting her over for any injuries and checking her over twice like a dog to it's hurting owner.
“-- For fucks sake… We’re fucking moving, now! Haul ass, on me.”
The dirt and grime covered Staff Sergeant waved his hands to the other two, motioning them to follow him.
As the three made their way down the street, and through an alley, the sounds of war raged all around them. 7.62 rounds popping off constantly. The energized sounds of the enemy’s plasma weaponry, and the cries of the wounded. Humans. All around her, Hawthorne felt pain. Suffering. No matter how many times she may tell herself this couldn't be happening, reality reminded her each and every time how truly cruel it could be.
Constant explosions rang out, shaking the age old buildings around the group as they made their way to the tunnel entrance. Upon finally approaching it, it seemed to be simply two thick, metal doors in the ground, surrounded on three sides by the backside of a synagogue. Hawthorne knew the synagogue well, as it was her own. Merely 20 minutes earlier, she was in there, assisting wounded to an LZ that no longer existed. Rabbi Abdiel, the small, gentle old man who helped Naomi grow and find her place in faith -regardless- of her 'differences' since she was a child, handed over a tightly rolled scroll to the woman, no larger than perhaps a foot long, and a few inches thick as it sat in the tube. She may not have wanted it, but it wasn't about what she wanted. It was about what she believed in. He knew he wasn’t going to make it out, and he valued the words on that paper far more than his own life. She had to.
As they approached Lieutenant Slight, who was currently on the line with -someone- over the LRR, they noticed multiple MI, all looking rather tattered but still holding a perimeter. Around the closed entrance of the tunnel sat a large group of civilians, all with fear in their eyes, and in their hearts as well.
The short, tanned Lieutenant with glasses glanced up to the three, and quickly waved them over as he held the radio to his ear. And, the trio followed suit, tending to their minor cuts and burns as they listened in. The air was full of ash, smoke, and heat. But, the one thing that the base senses couldn't capture, nor any video, audio, or live footage was the fear. All around, in every direction, it lingered. Around every corner, and in every heart of every man, woman, and child, it festered.
“Lieutenant, Sir. Status on the EVAC?”
“They’re coming in under heavy fire. They should be here any minute now, so get ready to load in the civvies, Staff.”
“Understood, Sir. Hawthorne, take Tanner and Emeliah with you, and prep the civies to haul ass. I’ll get the rest of the people in tunnel out here. No delays, got it?”
“Understood, Rex. No delays.”
The woman nodded to Emeliah, and the two ran over towards the street, and stopped at the corner of the building. The tall, dark-skinned man with a SAW turned to the two. A simple nod shared between Hawthorne and Private First Class Tanner told enough, and the group of three made their way to the civilians. Most of them were older men and woman, with only a few being anywhere younger than thirty. As Hawthorne took headcount, she counted a staggering seventy-four civilians. She looked around her at the tattered infantry. Something nagged at her senses. Something inherently wrong.
The scream of a dropship’s jet engines resounded throughout the tight alleyway, as nearly everyone; both MI and civilian alike; looked up to see a Viking being escorted by two TAC fighters. Blue plasma streaked across the now dimming sky as the sun readied to lay to rest for the night, and the flares, tracers, and AA responding, refusing to die out without a fight against the overwhelming odds.
The TAC’s made their gun runs on the area surrounding the troopers and civilians as the Viking touched down. Lieutenant Slight slung the LRR on his back, and picked up his Carbine. He stood up, and looked to the troopers around him, lift a hand.
“Ryder, Platz, Agulia. Secure the perimeter with me. We’re getting the hell out of this place!”
The pilot screamed over the radio,
“Get the fuck on! This L-Z is -WAY- too fuckin' hot for me!”
Once the four took perimeter around the dropship, the Lieutenant waved Hawthorne, Rex, Tanner, Emeliah, and the group of civilians over to his position.
“C’mon! Clocks ti--”
Hawthorne stopped, and she saw what was about to happen. Her cracking voice was drowned out by the roar of the engines, and the ball of plasma splitting the sky, touching down onto the Viking. No matter how loud she seemed to scream, it was simply too little, too late.
Soon enough, a large crater resided, where burnt flesh and metal lay. One couldn’t even tell a space-fairing craft might have even been there moments before. The scent of burning materials, including sand, rock, wood, flesh, metal, and seemingly everything under the sun had just engulfed the area, and a wave of heat blasted through the narrow pathways between the buildings nearby.
Hawthorne stood, seemingly froze for a moment, her face somewhat toasted from the scene in front of her. She couldn’t hear anything, nor did she really want to. She felt two people grab her by each arm, and pull her away. Down they went, into the tunnels. They sealed the thick metal doors behind them, and just in time, as a barrage of plasma assaulted there position, and collapsed the entrance behind the group.
As they walked deeper into the tunnel, the sounds of war above slowly faded. As for Hawthorne, her senses did the same as she lost consciousness once more as she was carried away by Emeliah and Tanner.
Were those tears streaming down her face? Was it blood? She no longer could tell the difference, slowly drifting off into the dark, dark embrace of sleep.
As she faded away, she heard it's call. Distant. But it was there. She didn't know what it was, but it knew her.
** A jolt in the metal chair was emitted from Hawthorne's as she jerked within it. A cough came from the man in the back, and a sigh of exhaustion came from the Operative at hand as her nose dribbled with blood.
BP: That should do for today, Specialist. Leena, grab Baronia water, tissues, and whatever else she needs. Hawthorne. How are you feeling?
NH: -- I'm fine, Sir.
** As recorded, N. Hawthorne's blood pressure and heart rate had spiked on four separate occasions during the psychic therapy. She appeared to sweat profusely, far more than normal, as well as causing the Master Specialist 'one hell of a nose bleed' as recorded by Dr. Privali.
BP: That sounds rather unconvincing, Naomi. We're grateful for your cooperation, of course, but we need you to stay healthy as well.
** A long pause was held before Naomi finally speaks.
NH: Am I dismissed, Sir?
** A discontented sigh is heard from the man.
BP: -- Not quite. We'd like to take a few blood tests before we let you go back to your bunk.
NH: I understand, Sir.
** Some shuffling of papers is heard as the woman has her blood drawn, as well as some indecipherable chatter between the Doctor and Lieutenant.
<END RECORDING>
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add the mighty WOah
and JEWTHORNE
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add the maxi pad
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where the FUCK is squid, dawg?
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add the MAXI-PAD
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Updootered boys and girls
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this is gold
utter gold
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[Ens. Mazzoni, moments after landing his gunship, 2297.]
Basic Information:
Name: Jeremiah Giovanni Mazzoni
Age: 23
D.O.B: May 4th
Gender: Male
Role(s): TAC Pilot
Kin: None
Homeworld: New York, Terra
Hair color: Dark Brown
Eye color: Blue
Build: Mesomorphic
Status: MIA
Current Rank:
Fleet Lieutenant
Awards and Recommendations:
Spoiler
Combat Action Ribbon x1
Ace Ribbon x1
Character Description:
A 6ft. 2in. male of Italian descent stands before you. He is well built, and has blue eyes and brown hair. He sounds as if he is from New York.
Achievements
Neutral
Literally everything.
Regrets
Personal Relationships
Relations: Loved|Admired|Like Family, Brethren|Good friends|Friends|Acquaintance|Neutral|Mixed|Dislikes|Hates|Fears
--[[Federation Mobile Infantry]]--
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--[[Federation Engineering Division]]--
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--[[Psi-Ops]]--
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--[[Federation Hospital Corps]]--
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--[[Federation Marauders]]--
- Kristina Sigrun -
This woman right here. If there was a ribbon for The Best Wingman, she'd get this in a heartbeat. In reality, she's the first person I can call my friend on this ship.
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--[[Federation Fleet]]--
- Carson Sawyer -
A rather new pilot to the division. I've trained her, and although she's new, and quite young, I have a feeling we have a new ace in our hands.
Turns out, she's become a lot more than just that. To me, at least.
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--[[Federation Provost Corps (Marines)]]--
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--[[Other]]--
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--[[The Fallen, Forgotten, Transferred]]--
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upDOOTERED
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//: Drop Lead: A/Cpl. Maxine Valentine -> Cpl. Sarah Redbrick
//: Second In Command: Cpl. Sarah Redbrick
//: Squad Leaders:
- Blue Team: LCpl. Morello
- Orange Team: LCpl. Stokes
//: Wounded In Action (W.I.A.): A/Cpl. Valentine, TSgt. Bronson, 3Spc. Larson, Pvt. Alaajen
//: Killed In Action (K.I.A.): None
//: Notable Acts: Max blew a lot of the baddie's shit up, as per usual.
//: Mission Summary: An Airfield was to be held against Separatist assault. We arrived, fortified the area, and successfully held it off against the assault at hand. Mortars had caused a large number of wounds among the troopers. Injuried Separatists who had surrendered were also obtained, and brought back for treatment and questioning.
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ARTYOM IS BACK BROTHERS
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MARAUDER DESIGNATION APPLICATION
IC:
Name: Artyom Kholvok
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown
Height: 6'4"
Weight: 210 lbs.
Employment & Background
Current Rank: Senior Specialist (Old Marauder manz)
Educational History: (Don't feel obligated to include a large background of knowledge, as a trooper in the MI you likely wouldn't have much experience.)
Employment History: MI. A long time.
Service Record: (Previous ranks, positions, specializations or commendations or other notable marks.)
3Spc. > 2Spc. > Spc. > SSpc.
OOC:
Steam name: N y x
Steam ID: hell if i know
Length of time on Server: almost 5 years?
Time zone: ESTCurrent characters on server: Oberlin, Hawthorne
Roleplay History: (Brief) .net -
mr. martini, of course
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Added:
Holtz @Mighty Mouse
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oberlin amigo
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Add Oberlin you fool
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Oberlin, supreme meme and smoker
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aw hell yeah
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you better add oberlin, fool
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Added:
Falco @LoFiSuicide
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Added:
Emmett @Silent
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Added:
Hartwick @nikb
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Tatsuo "Ling Wong" Okazaki
in Archives
Posted
where tf is MAX