The Corrupted War

[Zazu]

The Story
"Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men."-Lord Acton

Two thousand, the year the world seemed to increase the amount of corruption its superpowers held. The United States had slowly been gaining corruption throughout its existence, intensifying as every year passed. The Chinese secretly trained many thousands of men and women to become nuclear scientists to create a super arsenal of nuclear weapons in a facility near the Three Gorges Dam. The Soviet Union started to reform, bringing again the distaste the US had for them. Japan, with its massive economy, began researching new weapons to employ against its enemies.

Two thousand six: deep within the United States, a plan of senseless war was brought up and soon enacted. The United States, under President Bob Ross, attacked the new Soviet Union. The reason—“suspected acts of spreading communism” and “to contain the communism and prevent it from spreading”. Although the Soviet Union had no intentions of spreading communism (right away), President Ross signaled the attack on Moscow, Russia.

The US Army would push through thousands and thousands of Soviet troops, the Air Force and Navy flying planes to support the infantry. Winning several battles, the US reached Moscow, their final destination. Every battle the Soviets surrendered, with minimal troops, but that was their plan. To make the ignorant, pompous United States think they were winning, while in reality, they were falling into a horribly devastating trap. Soviets mustered in Moscow with battalions of tanks and infantry; anti-air and defensive outposts. The US would not take Moscow and thus, the Corrupted War commenced.

Early two thousand seven: A group of mercenaries, civilians, and ex-military among others against the war, began to band together in attempts to put the flame of war out forever—a sort of global military with hopes of defeating the tyrannical governments. By September, the unorganized organization grew to two million people, worldwide. Although they were low in concentration, they were powerful in mind and strength.


How to Join:
Follow all GW rules Have at least 150 posts or Be mature Although not required, please try to type with correct grammar--it helps Fill out the following bio:
GW Name:
Character Name:
Sex:
Age:
Alliance: (One of the above mentioned countries [Japan, US, China, Soviet] or the Mercs/whatever you wanna call them.)
Specialty: (sniping, recon, driving, explosives, assault, etc. If you want one you may not be sure about, just put it in and I’ll tell you if it’s ok or not.:^: Also include weapon of choice.)
Personality:
Appearance:
Background: (birth place, although optional, will help in the rp somewhat)


Members/Bios:
GW Name: Starfyre
Character Name: Gawain "Hawk" Stryker
Sex: Male
Age: 21
Alliance Mercenaries
Specialty: Assault; M4 Carbine with M203 Grenade Launcher attached. He is also a skilled pilot, but only goes on missions when he is absolutely needed.
Personality: Hawk is outgoing and friendly. He's also quite the lady's man. He's serious if the situation calls for it, but with him, it's not very often.
Appearance: Hawk stands at about 5'11" and weighs about 150lb. He has an athletic build due to his joy of running. He has short, brown hair and hazel eyes. He generally wears whatever he feels like, sometimes even in battle.
Background: He was born in Sarasota, Florida on the fourteenth of December to a middle-class family. From his childhood he's always liked girls and running, never going through the "girls have cooties" phase. His father was an active Lieutenant in the United States military, so they were always moving. Sometimes he made up different versions of himself when he moved. His father was killed in a recon mission when his plane was shot down by antiaircraft guns.

Being the older of two, he always watched over his baby sister, making sure she didn't get hurt, even if it meant scaring off guys that were just like him. His mother died in a car accident shortly before Christmas, the year he turned 18--old enough to take custody of his sister, which he did. Shortly after the Corrupted War began, he saw the flaws of the United States--of every government--and joined the growing unnamed military. He moved quickly through ranks, currently a Sergeant.

//\\//

GW Name:Cody.

Character Name: Kevin Rhoads

Sex: Male

Age: 26

Alliance: U.S.

Specialty: Sniper, M21 sniper rifle (Click me (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/3/32/M21-Sniper-Rifle-LeftView.jpg/350px-M21-Sniper-Rifle-LeftView.jpg))

Personality: Patriotic, confident, aggressive (when angry) well mannered, and enjoys reading books.

Appearance: Height: 6'2", Weight: 168 lbs. Wears U.S. light green/ grey digital camo, black combat military boots, wears a patrol cap, light brown buzzed hair, light blue eyes, tone/muscular., wears a "dog tag", carries a solid olive green backpack.

Background: Born on July 5, 1981 in Houston Texas, Kevin grew up with a very patriotic family, his great grandfather served in WWI, he father in WWII, his older sister Mary serves in the U.S. Navy. Kevin Rhoads, being the youngest of three sliblings, soon found himself living only with is mother at that age of 14, by the age of 21, Kevin's older brother Christian Rhoads died while serving with the U.S. Marines during a battle in Japan. By the age of 24, Kevin joined the U.S Marines to pick up where his brother left off and to help bring peace in the U.S. once again.

//\\//

GW Name: Dr.Cox

Character Name: Joseph Backe

Sex: Male

Age: 24

Alliance: Rebels. (Mercs)

Specialty: Sniping (Rifle Click Me)
(http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb215/The_Toddster/SniperRifle.jpg)

__________________________________

Personality: Arrogant, and Cocky. The thing is that he has an IQ of 211, so he kind of has a right to be how he is.

Appearance: 5' 10", bright green eyes, roundish face, long brown hair. He has a small scar under his right eye. He's also obviously extremely Irish.

Background: Born in Ireland to an officer in the Irish Republic Army. Joseph was trained to fight, in his spare time his, a teacher, taught him everything she thought he should know. By the time he was 16 he had already graduated from high school, not only that but he was one of the top snipers in the country. America ended up invading Ireland, crushing all resistance, including his father. After a while he met up with the Mercs whom accepted him into their ranks because of his skill.

//\\//

GW Name: Beconing Souls

Character Name: Daniel Merce (pronounced "Mercy")

Sex: male

Age: 26

Alliance: Merc

Specialty: Assault/Sneaking (if not acceptable, Assault)

Weapon: http://www.israeli-weapons.com/weapons/small_arms/tavor/tarmicro.jpg

Personality: Angry. He likes bloodshed, having being born in a hail of gunfire.

Appearance: Scar running lengthwise up his right arm. Short, military cut blonde hair. Brown eyes looking for any sign of weakness. 6'2, slightly muscular.

Background: He was born in a gunfight, bullets flying as his mother gave her last push. His father died in it, and his mother followed suit soon after. Daniel hates everyone, and only feels relief in battle.

//\\//

GW Name: Nicholas

Character Name: Kurt Steiner

Sex: Male

Age: 27

Alliance: United States of America (Beyotch!)

Specialty: Assault

Weapon: Clicky (http://www.defenseworld.net/images/features/FN_herstal_SOF_combat_assault_rifle.jpg)

Personality: Mysterious. Nobody really understands who he is. But he can get pretty pissed off.

Appearance: Stands at about 6'0", muscular, short-cut brown hair, brown eyes, wears military camoflauge outfits.

Background: Not much is known about him except every man in his family has been to war and died in the war. He dropped out of high school to help his family after his father never came back from the war. Went to military school at age 20.

//\\//

GW Name: The Razgriz
Character Name: Mike "Chopper" Larga
Sex: I wonder...
Age: 23
Alliance: Mercenaries
Specialty: Pilot, has a pistol with one extra clip strapped to his side.
Personality: He's a loudmouth on the radio and can talk about anything. He's always listening to old rock music and knows exactly how to read another's emotions.
Appearance: He is 6'1" and has long brown hair. His skin is dark and he has hazel eyes that seem to change whith what he wears, although in his flight suit they seem to be just an average shade of green. He wears a dark green flight suit into battle and just a white t-shirt and faded jeans out of battle, his only outfit.
Background: He was born in Cuba where he stayed most of his life. He jumped onto a cargo ship at the age of fifteen. He jumped off and swam two miles to American soil. He was taken in by a family who had recently lost their son. He took the identity of that child since there was no visual evidence of him at the time. He used the kid's birth certificate to join the Naval Air Force at seventeen. He went through college with help from the military. He switched into the officer category after three years of college and advanced to Captain in the Naval Air Force.

On an air patrol over Soviet land his squad was seperated by an EMP blast. The attack lasted only a few seconds and they regained control of their planes. Radar was scrambled and he got a secret radio message telling him what was really happening with America. The Mercs had observed him and was thought to be one of the easiest to realise the truth. He was given coordinates to a Merc air base and slipped out of his squad, he is currently pronounced MIA.

//\\//

GW Name: Ryker

Character Name: Sergei

Sex: Male

Age: 20

Alliance: Mercenary

Specialty: Recon and Stealth. He carries a standard issue Spetsnaz combat knife, a silenced, customized MP5A4, and a silenced TMP.

Personality: Sergei is quiet, though thoughtful when he is alone or focused, but witty and friendly with allies. He'll always be the first one to crack a joke in the most serious of times, even if it isn't funny at all. He really enjoys music, all forms of it, and will normally be talking somebody's ear off about it.

Appearance: Sergei stands at 5'7", short for his age and his Russian bloodline. He is built small but strong and agile, perfect for his work. His thick tanned skin matches his messy, medium length black hair but contrasts the cold blue eyes that draw immediate attention. Clean shaven, never without a smirk or smile. Sergei's outfit and equipment change to suit his mission better, but he really enjoys a dark blue color. Бороться и Умирать, To Fight And Die, are emblazoned upon his lower back, a reminder of his esteemed purpose in life.

Background: Sergei, though his name was not always such, was born in Khabarovsk, Russia and lived an average life for about 14 years. He had a mother, a father, and a sister. He learned to read and write like any other boy and was exceptional at sports, even if he was very short. His family lived not in poverty, but somewhere close to it, and Sergei could never help but feel guilty when he saw all the money they put into sending him to become one of the Elite, the Spetsnaz. Taken in at such a young age, the Spetsnaz became the boy's life until he became a man. Top of his squad, he had everything in life going for him... So what happened? The young man stripped himself of his former name, setting himself with the title, Sergei, or servant. He refuses to speak about what made him defect and fight the massive superpowers, but there is no doubt in anyone's mind that despite fighting his home country, his Spetsnaz brothers, he will be loyal to the end.


Edit Log:
10/13/07 - Created the RP
10/13/07 - Added people

[Cody.]

I'm in. :^:

GW Name:Cody.

Character Name: Kevin Rhoads

Sex: Male

Age: 26

Alliance: U.S.

Specialty: Sniper, M21 sniper rifle (Click me (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/3/32/M21-Sniper-Rifle-LeftView.jpg/350px-M21-Sniper-Rifle-LeftView.jpg))

Personality: Patriotic, confident, aggressive (when angry) well mannered, and enjoys reading books.

Appearance: Height: 6'2", Weight: 168 lbs. Wears U.S. light green/ grey digital camo, black combat military boots, wears a patrol cap, light brown buzzed hair, light blue eyes, tone/muscular., wears a "dog tag", carries a solid olive green backpack.

Background: Born on July 5, 1981 in Houston Texas, Kevin grew up with a very patriotic family, his great grandfather served in WWI, he father in WWII, his older sister Mary serves in the U.S. Navy. Kevin Rhoads, being the youngest of three sliblings, soon found himself living only with is mother at that age of 14, by the age of 21, Kevin's older brother Christian Rhoads died while serving with the U.S. Marines during a battle in Japan. By the age of 24, Kevin joined the U.S Marines to pick up where his brother left off and to help bring peace in the U.S. once again.

[Zazu]

Accepted. I'll throw you up on the fp in a minute.

[Dr. Manhattan]

GW Name: Dr.Cox

Character Name: Joseph Backe

Sex: Male

Age: 24

Alliance: Rebels. (Mercs)

Specialty: Sniping (Rifle Click Me)
(http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb215/The_Toddster/SniperRifle.jpg)

__________________________________

Personality: Arrogant, and Cocky. The thing is that he has an IQ of 211, so he kind of has a right to be how he is.

Appearance: 5' 10", bright green eyes, roundish face, long brown hair. He has a small scar under his right eye. He's also obviously extremely Irish.

Background: Born in Ireland to an officer in the Irish Republic Army. Joseph was trained to fight, in his spare time his, a teacher, taught him everything she thought he should know. By the time he was 16 he had already graduated from high school, not only that but he was one of the top snipers in the country. America ended up invading Ireland, crushing all resistance, including his father. After a while he met up with the Mercs whom accepted him into their ranks because of his skill.


GW Name: Dr.Cox

Character Name: Joseph Backe

Sex: Male

Age: 24

Alliance: Rebels. (Mercs)

Specialty: Sniping (Rifle Click Me)
(http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb215/The_Toddster/SniperRifle.jpg)

__________________________________

Personality: Arrogant, and Cocky. The thing is that he has an IQ of 211, so he kind of has a right to be how he is.

Appearance: 5' 10", bright green eyes, roundish face, long brown hair. He has a small scar under his right eye. He's also obviously extremely Irish.

Background: Born in Ireland to an officer in the Irish Republic Army. Joseph was trained to fight, in his spare time his, a teacher, taught him everything she thought he should know. By the time he was 16 he had already graduated from high school, not only that but he was one of the top snipers in the country. America ended up invading Ireland, crushing all resistance, including his father. After a while he met up with the Mercs whom accepted him into their ranks because of his skill.

[Zazu]

GW Name: Starfyre
Character Name: Gawain "Hawk" Stryker
Sex: Male
Age: 21
Alliance Mercenaries
Specialty: Assault; M4 Carbine with M203 Grenade Launcher attached. He is also a skilled pilot, but only goes on missions when he is absolutely needed.
Personality: Hawk is outgoing and friendly. He's also quite the lady's man. He's serious if the situation calls for it, but with him, it's not very often.
Appearance: Hawk stands at about 5'11" and weighs about 150lb. He has an athletic build due to his joy of running. He has short, brown hair and hazel eyes. He generally wears whatever he feels like, sometimes even in battle.
Background: He was born in Sarasota, Florida on the fourteenth of December to a middle-class family. From his childhood he's always liked girls and running, never going through the "girls have cooties" phase. His father was an active Lieutenant in the United States military, so they were always moving. Sometimes he made up different versions of himself when he moved. His father was killed in a recon mission when his plane was shot down by antiaircraft guns.

Being the older of two, he always watched over his baby sister, making sure she didn't get hurt, even if it meant scaring off guys that were just like him. His mother died in a car accident shortly before Christmas, the year he turned 18--old enough to take custody of his sister, which he did. Shortly after the Corrupted War began, he saw the flaws of the United States--of every government--and joined the growing unnamed military. He moved quickly through ranks, currently a Sergeant.


Nimrodded.... Joe is added.

[Zen/Sin]

GW Name: Beconing Souls

Character Name: Daniel Merce (pronounced "Mercy")

Sex: male

Age: 26

Alliance: Merc

Specialty: Assault/Sneaking (if not acceptable, Assault)

Weapon: http://www.israeli-weapons.com/weapons/small_arms/tavor/tarmicro.jpg

Personality: Angry. He likes bloodshed, having being born in a hail of gunfire.

Appearance: Scar running lengthwise up his right arm. Short, military cut blonde hair. Brown eyes looking for any sign of weakness. 6'2, slightly muscular.

Background: He was born in a gunfight, bullets flying as his mother gave her last push. His father died in it, and his mother followed suit soon after. Daniel hates everyone, and only feels relief in battle.

[Zazu]

Interesting. Accepted.

Also, "sneaking" is fine. I believe it would fall under recon or covert operations, etc.

[Nicholas]

GW Name: Nicholas

Character Name: Kurt Steiner

Sex: Male

Age: 27

Alliance: United States of America (Beyotch!)

Specialty: Assault

Weapon: Clicky (http://www.defenseworld.net/images/features/FN_herstal_SOF_combat_assault_rifle.jpg)

Personality: Mysterious. Nobody really understands who he is. But he can get pretty pissed off.

Appearance: Stands at about 6'0", muscular, short-cut brown hair, brown eyes, wears military camoflauge outfits.

Background: Not much is known about him except every man in his family has been to war and died in the war. He dropped out of high school to help his family after his father never came back from the war. Went to military school at age 20.

[Zazu]

Once Mike joins, we'll get this thing rolling.

Also, added.:^:

[Nicholas]

OOC: Let's hope Bush doesn't see this and get any 'ideas' :P

[The Razgriz]

GW Name: The Razgriz
Character Name: Mike "Chopper" Larga
Sex: I wonder...
Age: 23
Alliance: Mercenaries
Specialty: Pilot, has a pistol with one extra clip strapped to his side.
Personality: He's a loudmouth on the radio and can talk about anything. He's always listening to old rock music and knows exactly how to read another's emotions.
Appearance: He is 6'1" and has long brown hair. His skin is dark and he has hazel eyes that seem to change whith what he wears, although in his flight suit they seem to be just an average shade of green. He wears a dark green flight suit into battle and just a white t-shirt and faded jeans out of battle, his only outfit.
Background: He was born in Cuba where he stayed most of his life. He jumped onto a cargo ship at the age of fifteen. He jumped off and swam two miles to American soil. He was taken in by a family who had recently lost their son. He took the identity of that child since there was no visual evidence of him at the time. He used the kid's birth certificate to join the Naval Air Force at seventeen. He went through college with help from the military. He switched into the officer category after three years of college and advanced to Captain in the Naval Air Force.

On an air patrol over Soviet land his squad was seperated by an EMP blast. The attack lasted only a few seconds and they regained control of their planes. Radar was scrambled and he got a secret radio message telling him what was really happening with America. The Mercs had observed him and was thought to be one of the easiest to realise the truth. He was given coordinates to a Merc air base and slipped out of his squad, he is currently pronounced MIA.

[Zazu]

Alright. I'll start it in a bit. Just have to get it written.

Hawk lay in a small, bleak room, dusty and dark. It was furnished with two bunk beds, shelves, and a chest of drawers. Hawk laid on the bottom bunk, a small headboard with a picture of his sister and various flavors of Warheads--an ironic candy to have at that time-- in a small dish. His eyelids were light, floating above his eyes tensely, unable to rest. There was a briefing to be held the next day for his squadron and a few others. As he felt his eyelids getting heavier and heavier, he reached behind him and grabbed a black cherry Warhead. Popping it in his mouth, he rolled onto his side and drifted off to sleep.


The morning came with a bugle's call storming down the halls, outside the rooms. Hawk swung his legs over the side of his bed, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes. He turned to look at his ever-peaceful alarm clock: 5:30 AM. He went into the showers, ignoring everyone he passed by--he technically could because his rank was higher than most of those around. He slipped in and out of the shower and clothed himself in his uniform. He looked at his clock again: 5:50 AM. Briefing was in 25 minutes. He walked down to the mess hall to grab a bite to eat.


OOC: Blah, but whatever. It's an intro, and I'm tired.

[The Razgriz]

ooc: My background was longer than that. :P And I see you stayed up late last night Kevin.

[Ryker]

Damn. I look around these days at all the members who have twice as many posts as me, yet I've been here for about twice as long as them and it just makes me wanna cry... I'm in.

GW Name: Ryker

Character Name: Sergei

Sex: Male

Age: 20

Alliance: Mercenary

Specialty: Recon and Stealth. He carries a standard issue Spetsnaz combat knife, a silenced, customized MP5A4, and a silenced TMP.

Personality: Sergei is quiet, though thoughtful when he is alone or focused, but witty and friendly with allies. He'll always be the first one to crack a joke in the most serious of times, even if it isn't funny at all. He really enjoys music, all forms of it, and will normally be talking somebody's ear off about it.

Appearance: Sergei stands at 5'7", short for his age and his Russian bloodline. He is built small but strong and agile, perfect for his work. His thick tanned skin matches his messy, medium length black hair but contrasts the cold blue eyes that draw immediate attention. Clean shaven, never without a smirk or smile. Sergei's outfit and equipment change to suit his mission better, but he really enjoys a dark blue color. Бороться и Умирать, To Fight And Die, are emblazoned upon his lower back, a reminder of his esteemed purpose in life.

Background: Sergei, though his name was not always such, was born in Khabarovsk, Russia and lived an average life for about 14 years. He had a mother, a father, and a sister. He learned to read and write like any other boy and was exceptional at sports, even if he was very short. His family lived not in poverty, but somewhere close to it, and Sergei could never help but feel guilty when he saw all the money they put into sending him to become one of the Elite, the Spetsnaz. Taken in at such a young age, the Spetsnaz became the boy's life until he became a man. Top of his squad, he had everything in life going for him... So what happened? The young man stripped himself of his former name, setting himself with the title, Sergei, or servant. He refuses to speak about what made him defect and fight the massive superpowers, but there is no doubt in anyone's mind that despite fighting his home country, his Spetsnaz brothers, he will be loyal to the end.

[Zazu]

Very nice![/borat] Accepted.:^:

Also, I have like, five times more posts than you.:P

Also, Mike, I had to finish a project cause I was lazy, so yeah.

[Ryker]

Thats no way to treat your elder! I remember when we didn't have them funny reputation bars and them genders and them funny pictures in the signatures. Back in my day we had to make our signature pictures out of SYMBOLS! Uphill both ways in the snow barefoot.[/old]

In any case. Thanks for lettin' me in. I'll get to an intro post before the night is over.

[Zen/Sin]

ooc: Holy... wow. This is gonna be crazy. We've got some of the best RPers I know in here already, PLUS a Five-Year vet. No offense, Ryker, I think your CT is supposed to be 'The Sabre Master'

Daniel looked up at the sleeping post with disgust. They knew how much death was going on right now, and they could still sleep soundly. Daniel had stopped even pretending to try and sleep; every night he did, foul dreams of unnessisary blood filled his brain. The glowing ember of a lit cigarette bounced around in front of his mouth, lighting up his lips in an evil orangey glow.

"Final piece, the trigger. Oiled, smoothed, and cut to fit fingertips."

The whole gun was custom. He started out with a base weapon, but had slowly modified it to his personal specifications. His custom clips carried 80 Tracer rounds each, more than enough to insure he'd kill SOMETHING before reloading. The supressor cut noise almost entirely, and reduced muzzle flash by a full 95%. He was a gun afficionado. A bloody, orage glow filled the sky. The sun rose. Sure enough, the bugle sounded. He ran to the showers, flicking out the butt of his cigarette into the dewy grass. He placed his gun in his tent, and headed for the showers.

[Mattieau]

is it posible for me to still join?

[Ryker]

D'oh. Fell asleep. Post by 6 PM Central. Promise.

And Beck, its Saber Master as in lightsabers.

[Nicholas]

I'll get something up at Lunch Period. (12:15 Pacific)

[Zazu]

is it posible for me to still join?

No, just post a bio.

Just get it up whenever guys (although the sooner the better).:)

[Dr. Manhattan]

Down range a target’s head was shredded as the final bullet tore through it. A press of a button and it slid down the 1000 yards of grass that made up the mercenary shooting range. With a smile on his face the shooter tore off the head and shoved it into his pocket, disposing of the rest of it. Ten seconds later his rifle was dismantled on the table. Cleaning solution on a rage he began to rub all the parts down. A rifle was only good if it was well cared for. Within ten minutes he had it completely reassembled and ready to go. On his way out the man grabbed a couple of extra rounds and stuck them in his breast pocket, it never hurt to be prepared. Down the halls of the complex he walked, his rifle strapped to his back, a smile on his face, a cigarette in his mouth. One of the Corporals walked past him before stopping and turning with a look of anger on his already bright red face.

Hoisting up his pants, Corporal Kenneth Vinis pulled out his pistol and whacked the smiling man on the head.

“PRIVATE JOSEPH! YOU KNOW VERY WELL THAT YOU ARE NOT TO SMOKE WITHIN THE COMPLEX!” He yelled, making sure that everyone nearby could hear him. The other man, Joseph, turned slowly and stared at him. Kenneth’s face went from a beet red color to a dark purple as the private didn’t answer. It was time that this boy learned the meaning of respect. He drew his arm back and stopped in surprise as a hand grabbed it. Anger building up he turned, preparing to shout at the person who had intruded. The pent up rage released like a balloon being popped when he saw who it was.

“Staff Seargent Hawk. I’m sorry sir, I didn’t see you there.” He said, a slight stammer in his voice. “I was just teaching this Private a lesson.”

Hawk looked slightly amused, this was worth missing a couple minutes of breakfast. “I’m sorry but I’m confused, I don’t see a Private, all I see is a Corporal and a Sergeant.” Kenneth looked befuddled, he looked around wildly, he saw no Sergeant. It was then that it struck him, the man he had been preparing to beat did not have the single black arrow of a Private on his shoulder. But the triple arrow of a Sergeant. Privates that had stopped to observe the scene began to snicker at Kenneth’s stupidity. Snapping to attention he turned to Joseph.

“I’m…Deeply sorry sir, I didn’t know, it won’t happen again.” He muttered casting his eyes down.

“I should hope not.” Joseph responded, trying to stifle a laugh. “You are dismissed.” The still confused Corporal wandered off still muttering to himself.

“So, I see that they promoted you. Congratulations.” Hawk said airily.

“Yep, they skipped right past First Class, Specialist, and Corporal. Probably the job I did in France a couple weeks ago.” Joseph replied with a proud smile. “Well, I’m off to get a shower, you?”

“Food was my main priority.”

Joseph saluted Hawk and turned, heading off towards the shower.

[Ryker]

"Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis, te decet"
A rich, mature tenor voice vibrated 'twixt the thin sheets of a gray, raggedy tent. Music was playing from a small rigged radio, one that had seen plenty of days of wear and tear. Requiem, one of Wolfgang A. Mozart's most famous pieces, pierced the musky air of the tent and filled it with life.

"hymnus, Deus in Sion, et tibi reddetur votum in Jerusalem; exaudi"
Sergei's head bobbed to the music as he sang, his hands moving up, down and out to the music. It was a habit he had to conduct the music he was singing, and whenever he heard something on the radio, he would try to pick out the time signature for kicks.

"orationem meam, ad te omnis caro veniet!"
Outside the tent, the blazing sun peered over the horizon, basking the earth in it's ever-shining light. The underbellies of the morning clouds glowed yellow and orange like a piece of molten metal fresh from the forge. The bugles were sounding, the soldiers were rising, but all that the Russian man cared about was his music.

"Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis.
Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison!"
Sergei's bright blue eyes opened as the first movement of the song, the pause in the music giving his ears a moment to snap to attention, hearing the morning bugle. With a loud Russian curse he pounded the radio until it stopped playing, bolting out of his tent and almost knocking it completely over. Another solider looked back at him as he jumped out, an obviously displeased look on his face.

"Hey, Sergei. I know you like your music n' ****, and you can sing like an angel, but you think you could turn it the **** down once and a while? You woke up me n' half the rest of us."

The Russian looked up to the tall American, lazily, then noticed at least five other men, all American, all murmuring amongst themselves and taking disapproving glances at the much shorter young man. Sometimes Sergei wondered why Americans were always so tall. Must have been the steroids. His bright smile flashed as he stepped up beside the man addressing him, one arm patting him on the back.

"My comrade," Sergei spoke, voice riddled with a thick Russian accent. "Why don't we make compromise? In morning on odd days, I listen to what I please and sing to what I please, and you don't complain. On even days I play radio station you ask of the previous night. Sound good to you?" The tall, muscular man with his rough, dirty face just stared back, then broke into a grin.

"Sure, why not, 'Comrade?'" He put a somewhat insulting emphasis on the word, but Sergei did not put it past him, only stepped by without a further sound. He was going to be late, if he didn't pick up the pace.

A quick shower, re-dressed, and he was on his way to the mess-hall. It sort of sounded like a disgusting place to eat, but he called it what the Americans decided to call it. "When in Rome.."
~~~~
EDIT: I totally forgot you weren't allowed to curse on GW. o_o Sorry for the crap post. I have to leave in 40 minutes, but maybe tonight I'll come back and make it good.

[Zazu]

Don't worry about it. You have a lot of skill, prolly more than the rest of us, so I'll go easier on you.;)

//\\//\\

"Corporal," Hawk turned around grinning. Corporal Vinis faced him. "You get cleanup duty in the mess hall. I'll let the custodians know."

The Corporal sighed and walked into the mess hall to get some breakfast.

"Sergeant," Hawk stopped Joseph. "Don't smoke inside again. Although most of the people here smoke, the ones that don't would prefer to remain clean." He said, still grinning.

Walking into the dimly-lit mess hall, Hawk grabbed some food and sat down to eat on the wooden tables that littered the area.

A beautiful girl came in and sat down next to Hawk. His eyes had been on her the past few weeks, closing the gap between them. "Morning Sarge," she said, leaning up against him.

"Morning Corporal," he said to her, his arm stretching around her shoulder.

Her name was Fiona White, a Corporal that worked behind the scenes, communicating with the planes that took off, giving them direction and objective changes from the ground.

"When is your promotion?" she asked.

"A week or so. It'll primarily be judged on this next mission. If my entire squadron does good, there might be promotions all around. And, if I'm lucky, it may be to Master Sergeant," he smiled.

"Sounds fun. So, what's your mission this time?"

"Not sure. Briefing is in about 15 minutes, so I'll have to be going soon."

//\\//

Blah... more crap. Oh well. I'll work harder for the rest... if I can stop being lazy...

[The Razgriz]

ooc: Threw this together in five minutes because I have to catch a flight so don't yell at me for the shortness.

Mike got out of bed in just his boxers and looked at his clock, 5:45. That was enough time to get ready. He quickly showered and got dressed in his flight suit. He examined himself in his mirror and blow dried his hair, it wouldn't be dry by the mission otherwise. He looked at his clock again, 6:03. He'd make it into the briefing room in time. He grabbed a handfull of skittles from a jar on his bedside table and hurried off, tossing all the yellow ones to the ground, eating the purple first.

[Cody.]

OCC: So I'm guessing that so far everyone is on the same side and are all at the same location then? (I kinda skimmed though the RP's)

--------

Kevin sat beside his bed quietly reading a dusty old paperback book, already dressed in his uniform. His eyes concentrated carefully at the book as they scrolled left to right repeatidly, his hands held the base of the book without making the slightest move. His entire body remained frozen.

A fairly tall man walked inside Kevin's post, stopping at the doorway he noticed the huttled up still soldier sitting near the corner of the post. With a slight smile, he approached Kevin, his boots claming on the hard wood dusty floor as he began to walk onward. He stopped beside the quiet soldier, casting a shadow of his self that blocked the light from Kevin's book. Kurt leaned forward, tapping Kevin's arm. "Hey, its time for breakfast" He exclaimed, beginning to walk out of the post. Kevin sighed as he placed a piece of torn paper inside his book, marking his page. Kevin stood up, setting his book on the wooden shelf, he headed onward outside.

[Zazu]

Pretty much, yeah. There are two people with the US. The rest are mercs.

[Ryker]

Blah. I'll be gone for the weekend. Sorry folks. Feel free to use Sergei s'long as you keep him with a witty personality, bad english and a thick Russian accent.

[Zazu]

Hawk checked his ticking, glowing watch. He stood up, kissing Fiona's soft cheek. He walked away, discarding his mostly emptied tray into trash bin. Walking through the barren halls, he whistled a lively tune, his hands in his lint-filled pockets. As he approached the briefing room, an inert guard looked him over and opened the door to the briefing room, nodding. Hawk returned the nod and sat in the middle of the room.

There was a large screen and a projector to give visuals for the missions. A podium rested in the front center with a flag of the United States on one side, and the "rebel" flag on the other. The US flag was to show they still loved their country; the "rebel" flag to show their choices to rebel against the government. It was decorated with swords--their hilts in the middle and their points outward toward the corners--with an olive branch wrapping around the swords.

A slightly built man stepped up to the podium. His name was General William Weaver, the general of the "Mercenaries". He looked sternly to the 20 or so people in the room. He turned his gaze to Hawk, and began to speak.

"Staff Sergeant Stryker, you will be leading these men into the US Air Force Base in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma--Tinker Air Force Base. You are to dismantle their operations. You will have three fighter pilots backing your squadron up." He turned to the pilot in charge, Staff Sergeant Larga. "Staff Sergeant Larga, you and your squad of pilots will strafe or bomb all planes on or near the runway. Take them all out or you'll have to resort to dogfighting. Once you commence the attack, Sergeant Stryker will begin his ground assault on the base."

He turned back to Hawk. "Now, keep casualties to a minimum and destroy all their communications. Once you're finished, we'll have an evac chopper waiting for you two miles due east of the base. You have until 1000 hours (10:00) before the Osprey leaves. It won't leave without you, but it won't leave after 1010 (10:10), so we need you on that chopper before then. Understood?" Hawk nodded, as did most everyone else. "Dismissed!" General Weaver shouted.

//\\//

Whether or not you've introed yet, your character will have been at the briefing.

[The Razgriz]

ooc: Ahhhh, thanks Kev. You really do care. :P Anyway I won't get anything up until Sunday night probably. Kinda busy right now. You can look at the time this was posted. :paranoid:

[Cody.]

OCC: Before I continue, is or should my character supposed to do something specific right now or what? I just don't want to mess things up.

[Zazu]

Not really. Just have him get ready to go to Tinker or something. Or, you don't have to. I'm going to be really lax on what you have your character do.

[Cody.]

OCC: Allright, just making sure.

-------

Kevin walked lively toward a plain wooden table with a stack of food lying in the middle. Looking very unsatisfied he turned away from the table pulling out a pack of gum from his jacket pocket. As he placed the stick of gum into him mouth he heard his name being yelled at.

OCC: BTW, my character ranks as a "Private" if that is needed to know.

[Zen/Sin]

ooc: So all our characters are getting ready for the misison?

Daniel sighed and pulled out a cigarette. In moments, the calming effect of Nicotene flowed throug his veins like salvation from above. This is what he lived for, the preparation. He oiled every moving part on his gun, checked each of the ten 80-bullet clips he carried, and cleaned then recleaned the barrel. Three concussion, two flashbangs, and one incindiary grenade hung color-coded from his belt. The cigarette burned low, and he ground the filter between his teeth before lighting another jet-black wrapped cylinder.

"When are we ready, sirs?"

He hated being polite, he was only here because it was one of the better-paying factions in this war, and seemed to have the least casualties. Not hat he felt safe, or even liked this place. In an instant, he'd raze this army to the ground for the right price.

[Dr. Manhattan]

OCC: BTW, my character ranks as a "Private" if that is needed to know.

Yeah everyone's pretty much is. Except mine because I'm special. :D

[Zazu]

And The Razgriz's because he's special.:P

But don't worry. As we progress, everyone will get promoted (I might put ranks of your characters in the first post if I feel like it).

[Cody.]

Yeah everyone's pretty much is. Except mine because I'm special. :DI see, I just noticed that a few of the characters were addressed by "Corporal " or "Sergeant" so I figured I would tell you guys my ranking but apparently that info really isn't needed so...thanks for letting me know. What are the ranks BTW?

[Zazu]

Same as US army ranks.

Enlisted (non-officer) Ranks (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Army_enlisted_rank_insignia)

Officer Ranks (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_Army_officer_rank_insignia)

First round of promotions will come soon, don't worry.

Also, Ryker gets special treatment cause he's a good writer.

[Ryker]

And I return. Post up by 4:30 central.

Too busy. By midnight.

God damnit. Too tired.

[Dr. Manhattan]

Heh, I know how that is. I'm trying to get something up, I just have so much to write.

[Ryker]

Blah. This weekend was the weekend of the play I was in, Macbeth, so I'm very verrry exhausted.

[Zazu]

Were you Macbeth? Or did you take part in a battle? Or were you just some random dude?

Hopefully the speed will of this will go up soon.

[Ryker]

Were you Macbeth?
Macduff.

[Zazu]

Wasn't that like, Macbeth's best friend or something?

[Zen/Sin]

We going to get this baby rolling soon? (No offense)

[Zazu]

Well, I'm waiting for someone to rp, mainly because I don't feel like advancing the plot yet.

[Cody.]

Well, I'm waiting for someone to rp, mainly because I don't feel like advancing the plot yet.Well I made a lead off of someone calling my characters name for his attention, I don't really know what else to RP about until someone else pays attention to my character.

[Nicholas]

Yeah, I have yet to get an intro up. When I think of something, I'll post.

[Ryker]

Arrrgrh! I am very disappointed with myself! I SWEAR to each and every one of you, I will have a post by the end of the weekend!

[Nicholas]

OOC: Meh, intro time for me...finally...

"Kurt! Hurry and get your ass up!" A rough voice yelled while unzipping the tent. Kurt got up quickly and pulled out a knife, stopping it at the last second at the figure's throat. When Kurt's eyes got used to the early morning darkness, he recognized the figure.

"Oh, it's just you, Commander Saunders."

Saunders pushed the knife away from him.

"I wish you would stop that crap, you know."

"Hey, can't tell if it's a friend or foe. Now what is it?"

"There are some mercenaries heading for our position. I need you and your squad to get to positions before they get here, and blast their asses."

Kurt rounded up his three other squad members, then headed south of the base to hide in the bushes. Kurt held up a hand and pointed at a small group of figures silently heading for the squad.

"Damn, I wish that we had reinforcements. These guys probably picked up our position by now."

"Ah shut the hell up! These American bastards are fast asleep, and unprepared. We'll have the advantage!"

"Wrong." Kurt said from the bushes. The mercenaries looked as they found out they were surrounded by the four-man squad.

"Kill them!" The leading mercenary shouted. Before the rebels could load their weapons, Kurt and his squad began to open fire.

OOC2: Meh, crappy intro. :(

[Ryker]

._. Failed...

[Zazu]

Don't worry about it. Also, Nicholas, I'm not sure your intro will work. I'll be trying to incorporate the government more so you guys aren't just completely lost.:^:

I'll get something up tomorrow to (hopefully) make it easier for everyone to write something. Too tired right now.:)

[Nicholas]

OOC: Yeah, I know I failed. :( I too was tired and tried my best to try to keep this thing active...

[Zazu]

Ryker was talking about himself. Also, you're fine. I didn't give much info on what should be done (especially for the government), so here's something that will (hopefully) make sense.

//\\//

Hawk leaned forward, gently kissing Fiona.

"When will you be back?" She asked.

"Few days--all depends on the time the mission takes. I'll see you then." Hawk said smiling, turning to leave. He had thoughts about what would happen if he never returned. There would be quite a large resistance at Tinker, and he knew well what he was up against.

The time for the mission was nigh. The squadron leaped into the V-22 Osprey, throwing a few bags of food and water in. It took off, flying far ahead of the fighters, who left at 1155 hours. After a few hours of flying, the hybrid plane landed, about two miles east of the base--the rest was a half-hour hike through a small patch of woods.

The roaring of jet engines flew overhead, screaming past the base. A small whistle was heard and explosions littered the first hundreds of feet of runway. As one of the squad members ran forward, thinking the bombing was over, the planes passed through, dropping more bombs. A piece of stray shrapnel flew past his ear, skimming it.

"They're going for four passes, then we go!" Hawk shouted at the private, then muttering, "Jackass..."

The planes roared by again and more explosions littered the runways. In between the ringing of ears and explosions and planes, an alarm was heard. They had to move quick or backup could arrive.

The planes dropped their bombs one last time. They moved off to circle the base, keeping anything out. Hawk's squad burst forward, running onto the pavement of the charred runway, demolished planes all around. Phase 1 was a success.

"Sarge, how come the planes couldn't bomb the buildings too?" one of the privates asked.

"Because, they only had enough bombs to take out all the planes, plus, we might be able to take this base if we make it through here. Now, spread out. Every building needs to be searched completely. Get the wounded out and shut down or destroy any computers you see, unless it's really big--we want the mainframe to get access to important files."

//\\//

Ok, if you're on the government side, just be at the base, defending it.

[Dr. Manhattan]

Joseph walked up to Hawk, an unlit cigarette lying in his mouth. The smell of burning metal drifted towards the squad as they through the mass amounts of wreckage that lay before them. Small craters lined the airstrip. Each crater cradled either one or more small fires that released a toxic smelling smoke into the clear blue sky. A single man ran out onto the runway, he looked around wildly before taking a bullet to the chest.

Following a signal, Joseph broke off from the pack with a single private following. He crept through the shadows, his pistol held ready. A good sniper was always necessary for a mission; one could even turn the tide of the battle. Not only did they provide cover for assaulting men, they also acted as a radar, sending information to the squad members on the ground. A small sigh escaped his closed lips, it seemed that new technology made it easier for anyone to pick up a rifle and shoot a few rounds accurately, skill didn’t seem to matter anymore.

ZIIP! A bullet sped past him, catching the private accompanying him in the center of his throat. The reaction was immediate, Joseph dove behind a nearby crate, making sure to keep his head down. Slowly he slipped off his rifle, pulling the bolt up and back. The oiled action accepted the bronze piece of metal gratefully. A fellow sniper, this should be interesting. The best part was that he (or she) seemed to be genuinely skilled. Joseph stood and began to creep through the doorway next to him…

__________________________________________________

Cody, this can either be your character or just a random sniper.

[Nicholas]

OOC: Ok, hopefully this is better.


Kurt Steiner ran out of the hanger of the base. He wondered what the hell was going on. He looked around and saw that planes were everywhere, destroyed. Kurt saw a squadron of people attacking the base.

“Those damn mercenaries are here! Return fire!” He yelled as a bullet nearly got him in the leg.

He led a few assault soldiers out onto the runway, taking cover by a downed plane, bullets spraying everywhere. Kurt aimed his assault rifle and fired away, taking down a mercenary in the stomach. Kurt continued firing until he ran out of ammo. He reloaded the weapon, and just then, one of the new privates ran up to him.

“Hey Cap, we need to charge these guys, that’s why we’re called the Assault Squad, right?”

“Get back here you retard!” Kurt yelled at the private, who charged to a downed plane for cover, and coming closer to the mercenaries. Kurt had to give that private some support, that fool could barely hit a target even if it stood still. Kurt pulled out a smoke grenade from his vest, pulled the pin, and threw it far. The smoke hissed out slowly, taking out the mercenaries’ vision for now. He ducked down low and ran as bullets were still being fired over his head. He got next to the private, and began firing at the mercenaries. A scream told him he got one.

“Roberts! What in the name of high holy God are you doing? We’re in a battle right here! You can’t just charge off here like that!”

“Sorry Cap, I--”

A bullet whizzed by, nearly missing Kurt’s face.

“Lecture later!”

He aimed his rifle and began to fire back at the mercenaries.

[Cody.]

OCC: I'll take it from there Cox. BTW, we are in a hangar right now right? If not, I'll fix it.

-----------

Kevin leaned against the wall on the side of the cool metal walls of the hangar, smoke from the large range of demolish planes began to fog up his glasses. He squinted, rubbing the blinding blur off from his clear tan eyeglasses. Sergeant Joseph bumped the concentrating soldier on the shoulder. "Private Rhoads!" He yelled over the raging roar off the flaming planes. Kevin turned, "Sir! What's going on? Who's out there?" He questioned, trying to talk over the loud sounds. Joseph opened his mouth, before any words escaped, several hums zipped over there heads, leaving dents in the wall as the ricocheted. The two soldiers ducked, several mercenaries stood outside the hangar doors, the smoke screened them making them appear as a silouette. Kevin twiched, noticing the two silouette holding a rifle to there shoulders. He gasped underneath his breath, turning to Joseph who concentrated on his on rifle. Kevin reacted quietly withdrawing a pistol from his side pocket, he shot rapidly. CLING! the clip fell out of the magnum empty. The silouette didn't move. Kevin froze, watching the figure stand behind the smoke motionless. A rifle fell from the figures side, the silouette falling shortly after. Kevin sighed with relief.

[Dr. Manhattan]

OOC: I was actually thinking more of having you in one of the guard towers, and we could have a sniper battle. :shrug:

[Cody.]

OCC: Wait, your on the opposite side as me right? I completely spaced that. Alright, ignore my last RP. I for one, forgot that your a Mercenary yourself ( my bad) and secondly, that sounds like a better plan. I'll be up inside a guard tower instead. We'll rewind here a bit Cox, you're character is still behind the crates.

-------

Kevin stood frozen inside a guard tower near the hangar, his feet planted to the flooring as he dug the butt of his gun into his shoulder, his right hand tightly squoze around the handle while his index finger rested on the trigger. He was completely silent. Kevin examined the flaming debree field of destroyed airplanes. The heavy black smoke blanketed the remaining Mercenaries, making them all appear as silouettes. Joseph quickly thought to himself, sitting behind several crates he turned, noticing a fellow Merc. sprint towards him. Joseph shook his head, glaring at the oncoming Mercenary as he continued to approach Joseph, which was sure to give away his position.

Kevin noticed a dark shadow dash across the open space of the field, heading toward the debree of planes. He closed his left eye, tighting his grip on the trigger, the barrel following the figures movement. BANG! Kevin twiched, his shoulder jerking back as he still continued to aim closely.
The Mercenary dropped instantly, leaving a spray of blood that mixed with the smoke. Joseph cursed under his breath, gritting his teeth together.