Posted: Tue Jun 19, 2018 8:26 pm
Nation: Rohst
Favorite Genre(s): Military, Sci-fi, horror, character, post-apocalyptic, etc.
Activity Level: Some days I'll crank out multiple posts within the hour, others I won't post for like three weeks (god that sounds horrible lmao but I'm being honest, depends on IRL business and motivation to write.)
What Do You Hope To Contribute?: Characters, stories, world lore and maybe host my own original RP idea at some point maybe sorta kinda.
RP Example(s):
Rohst wrote:The Koninkrijk of Rohst
12 January 1956
Near a small farmhouse outside Dosan(Image)
Sgt. Lukas Hoenderken (left) and Cpt. Geert Spijker (right). (1956)
"Hoo-wee, good fuckin' shot with that raketwerper, Geert!" Maarschenveld cackled out over the radio.
I threw the smoking, disposable rocket tube to the ground.
"I had twenty guilder with Hoenderken that you wouldn't hit it, sir. Let alone make it pop in such a beautiful display. Over."
Quiet snickering was heard emanating from the bush to my left. Clearly Hoenderken was pleased having won the bet.
"Fun's over, ladies, we still need to secure that other compound." I said over the channel. "After that, they oughta be softened up enough for the rest of the Marines to move in on the capital. Let's move."
"Affirmative."
The second compound could be seen off in the distance. Close enough to engage, but not enough to do so effectively. We slinked across the forested hillside, creeping along in the shadows towards the house the last unit of this group should be in. Those scouts we happened upon the other day weren't pulling our chain none, and surely enough, there was a patrol walking on the route they said, too.
"On your mark."
Two shots and two men were dead. Easily taken from roughly 150 metres.
I decided that we should bound across the open field towards to farmhouse, which was a perfectly normal Cheon abode apart from the fact it was missing about a quarter of its roof and half a wall. I kept Maarschenveld and Kielmt on the hill, along with the sniper, van Kampf, to provide overwatch, whilst the rest of us moved in across the field. The light snow from last night crunched and crackled under our boots as we moved up to the cottage. The lad waltzing along the exterior clearly had not heard the shots from earlier, and was too enamoured with the billows of smoke rising in the distance to pay us any heed.
We got to the short wall lining the main building, finding where a motar conveniently landed and had made crack in it to mantle through to the other side. I kept my gun trained on the man by the front, and after everyone was over, I snuck up for a takedown. Threw my rifle over him and brought him back against his neck. He didn't struggle too much, but he made enough noise that there were whispers and footsteps that took note within. I cursed as I dropped the now lifeless body to the ground.
The boys were already stacked up on the door, and I took my place in the front and was patted on the shoulder. A gesture for "on your go." This job is all clockwork.
I nodded, and Hoenderken, on the other side of the door, lifted his foot and kicked it open. Two guys were standing, one not even facing us. Two gentle squeezes of the trigger and they were both out quick and easy. However, the two sitting behind the table did not take too kindly to this and opened fire. Bullets whizzed by my face as I brought myself back. My men and I returned fire before Haar called out "tossing a grenade!" We pull back again, he throws it in, a rink-tink-tink later and it goes off -- air and hot shrapnel screeching out of the doorway.
"Go!" We push in just as one of the Communists dusts himself off and cocks his gun. I yell "stand down!" in Cheongugeo, and he looks at me in bafflement. He's begins swinging his gun wildly, and I prepare to take a shot to his forehead, but then the madman pulls his rifle back and points it at himself. He'd rather commit suicide than surrender!
A shot rings out and I can't help but grimace. Blowing the front half of his head clean off, he crumples to the ground. Seems like it's death before dishonour for a lot of these types.
"A shame."
"Fucking idiot. Possessed motherfucker."
There's no time to dawdle. "De Hekkers, radio command that it's time for the cavalry to move up. Time to take Dosan!"
Rohst wrote:Fortnouveau, Midrasia
March 2nd, 2018
09:59 AM
Prince Lodewijk sat, legs stretched out in the limousine, absolutely abhorring the dreaded humidity outside. How people could bare to reside in such a horrid climate was well beyond him. He anxiously awaited the moment he'd have to step out of his air-conditioned box and out into the sticky, wet hell that awaited his fifteen second walk into the hotel. Some might call him spoiled, but he'd just say he had high standards; he was the bloody prince of Rohst, one of the grandest empires to bless Aeia. He deserved no less. If only Baron von Redeln could've had his trip Aramas after this whole ordeal instead of before... Alas, Father thought this would be a good chance for Lodewijk to interact with foreign delegation in a setting outside the Royal Palace -- and it was!
He recalled his conversation with Father from the night before. He spoke of how Lodewijk had been groomed for rulership his entire life, and he'd shown great aptitude in management of civil affairs, but he did little more but greet outlander diplomats when they came to the Fatherland. If he was to be the gregarious face of the nation, he would need to train his silver tongue and tailor it to those from lands far away. Eyebrows were raised when Father inherited Krieslen, and all heads turned when he quickly turned the Wusten invasion straight back into their homeland, seizing Schmendorf just after a few months of decisive skirmishes. The Kingdom's actions were under even more scrutiny than ever before, and it was Lodewijk's duty to convince, bribe, and cajole them to turn their attention away, or at least better learn how to. Unlike the Prince, Father was a silent, stoic man who few dared question, with gravitas fit for two kings or emperors. Lodewijk was a pup -- prim, proper, suave and handsome, but unproven to the wider world. This was a chance to exercise his talents and show everybody who the destined heir Rohst was.
As the vehicle eased to a halt, the security detail preceding it were already exiting theirs. While the Midrasians were to provide their own armed units to protect any foreign representatives, due to rising world tensions, Father would not allow Lodewijk to travel alone. When a local hotel worker began approaching the Prince's limousine, one of the armed escort shot him a glare that sent him recoiling back into the hotel in an almost comical fashion. Another agent came and opened the door.
Gods, it was hot, even at 10:00 AM. Prince Lodewijk dealt it until he made it inside.
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