Flash

If this kind of shit was happening on a regular basis in my homeland, I'd never stop fighting, regardless of how big or undefeatable the enemy may be. Hamas may be complicit in some of this too--it takes two to tango--but Israel is far, far more at fault here in my eyes. Hamas is like an angry child, throwing rocks; Israel is like an adult who turns around and launches a hellfire missile at the child in response.    Israel has one of the largest most well-equipped, most technologically advanced miltiaries in the world, and they are obliterating Gaza at the moment--have a look at these before & after satellite pictures to see the extent of the damage. Were all those crops & houses Hamas strongholds? Even if a single one of those buildings were, is this really the kind of situation you can take a unilateral "bomb everything, sort it out later" approach to?   And just as Hamas must know they cannot destroy Israel, Israel itself must know that they are not destroying Hamas, merely fuelling the fire and ensuring that more and more Palestinians will take up arms, and guaranteeing conflict for generations to come. And with the United States spouting condemnation of the school shelling while simultaneously supplying billions of dollars of ammunition to Israel, I think there is a heavy dose of the military industrial complex at work here as well.   Regardless of cause or blame, my heart bleeds for the innocent families of Gaza caught in the crossfire, and I sincerely hope this latest round of hostilities comes to a close soon--a sentiment I think we can both agree on.

  I never thought I'd say this but I literally cannot even

  *cracks knuckles*  

  I wish I was still a Super mod so I could shut it down all over again  :wink:   Personally I would love to "get the old team back together" and give it a try. I'm a lot older and wee bit wiser now (so I look back on some of my older RPing efforts with a cringe...  Not that they weren't fond memories ofc), and the message board format works well for me as my free time is sporadic. 

I am fairly certain my last post here was some kind of "omg, it's been so long!!1" type of deal, and now a few years later here I am again, haha. :) It's awesome to see some names I recognise--Shy, SaiyanPrincessX, James; glad to see you are all doing well. Speaking of the old guard, I can see it's PiroMunkie's birthday as I type this, so Happy Birthday if you ever read this, old chum.   So what am I doing, like, right now? Well, I can tell you I've just been on a massive nostalgia trip trawling through what used to be the Roleplaying & Storytelling forum--So many of our old threads and games are still there, frozen in time, it's surreal. Feels like I'm walking through the empty halls of my old high school or something. (By god, I wish we had finished Maverick Hunters: Personification!)   I won't bore you with the gory details of my sordid past so here's the synopsis--worked for the tax department, got fired for being a daydreamer who did no work and spent all my time writing stories, survived an earthquake, survived another much worse earthquake, got a graphic design qualification, met my long-term girlfriend of four years, got a design job with a big media company, moved around the country, survived ANOTHER earthquake....   And now most recently, my partner and I have moved back to our home city of Christchurch, and have just bought a house together! It's a pretty grown-up thing but I am still very much just a big kid--still playing way too many video games, still watching cartoons and anime (although I just watched Eva Rebuild 3.0!), still getting lost in my own imagination writing short stories and drawing maps and pictures that no-one else is ever likely to see, hehe.   To any other oldies who might stumble across this at some point in the future--Rahia, Rico, TN, Seph, Warwick, Neil, and the many others I've no doubt forgotten... I miss you guys, and I hope you are all doing well.   -Flash

[B]--- Environment Emulation Area, C Sector Maverick Hunter Headquarters 0214 hours ---[/B] Reverb sprung from the tall grass in which he lay. Two of the mechs were within arm's reach already, and he caught them from the flank. He grabbed the massive prog sword at his hilt and drew it from it's scabbard. Like a hot knife through soft butter the blade dismembered the smaller two of the suit's four arms. Unfortunately for the occupant of the mech, this meant the amputation of both arms. A burst of blood and other essential fuels erupted from the severed limbs, but the stream of black and crimson was quickly halted as the suit closed the gaping wounds with a metal plate that formed from a hazy cloud of grey smoke. Nanomachines, Reverb thought to himself. Usually, this is where the man would go down. He would scream in agony while the shock came to him, cut nerves all through his shoulders and spine firing constant signals of raw pain. Pain debilitating enough to drop a grown man to the floor and weep. Usually. But not this man. Once the gashes in the front of the suit were sealed, the mech retaliated. Rather than losing himself to shock or panic, the man was in a trance; a drug-induced rage incited with a near-lethal dose of morphine, adrenaline, steroids and powerful reflex and perception augmenting agents as well. Could Reverb have seen into the eyes of the pilot within the armoured shell of the mech, he would find the bloodshot eyes of a madman possessed with bloodlust akin to a berserker of old. The mech was deadlier now than when it got attacked. Being that it had only lost it's smaller secondary arms, it was still fully equipped with it's primary armaments. A three-barreled vulcan cannon integral in the suit's right forearm began to spool, making an unmistakable whirring that always signaled imminent destruction. Reverb gritted his teeth and swore, diving headlong into the tall grass. He dived into a roll and sprung to his feet, running as fast and as low as he could from the suit and it's rotary cannon. It lay down a heavy pelting of 50 caliber rounds into the thick field in the direction that Reverb had fled--But Reverb was already far from his previous position. As the mechs prepared to pursue, a message came across their radio. The squadron complied instantly. In a seemless transition of texture and colour, the mechs now sported ACU digital camouflage. Although they were large and cumbersome, they blended in with the surroundings far better than either of their reploid adversaries did. The two stealthy mechs behind Reverb hunched over and began their pursuit. [B]--- Upsilon Armoury, C Sector Maverick Hunter Headquarters 0216 hours ---[/B] Valcourt's mechanized suit shuddered as it powered up. Screens flashed and lights flickered as the holding arms retracted and the suit became fully operational. The Lieutenant-Colonel's suit looked the same as the rest of the platoon's, but there were subtle differences. It was taller, for one; if only by several inches. It's primary weapon was a pair of vulcan-cannons, each of them a six barreled monstrosity capable of laying out six-thousand 25mm rounds a minute. These were both mounted on the mech's oversized right arm, while the left arm was essentially a field howitzer. Bursts of steam and white light flared from the suit's exhaust vents as it's mobility engines came online. These mech suits, officially designated the ME40 Mechanized Exoskeleton, were planned for deployment with the few human battalions in the Maverick Hunter ranks. Duke had other ideas of course, assigning an elite team of his personal Emerald Militia to pilot the squadron, which numbered more than 25 of these high-tech exosuits. At full pace they could comfortably run at 60km/h, 70 at full tilt. And that was without activating the vector thrust jets; powerful boosters which could instantly dash the suit in any direction with acceleration comparable to a jet aircraft. A roaring blue flame exploded from the primary boosters on the back of the suit, sending it flying down the wide C-sector main accessway. Upsilon Armoury was only several hundred meters from the Environment Emulation Area via the accessway; a distance covered in a matter of seconds by the speeding mech. Valcourt eased off the throttle as he came to the turn-off to the EEA. He followed the vehicle access route, and came before a large metal door that lead into the staging area, which in turn lead to the battle room. The heavy-looking door split in two horizontally, one side sliding down into the floor and the other up into the ceiling. As soon as Valcourt had stepped through the opening, it closed swiftly behind him. "Valcourt, engaging." the Lieutenant-Colonel said softly into his headset. He was met with a chorus of "Acknowledged" from all the remaining mechs in the EEA. As one of the suits responded, his words were shattered by a scream of sheer agony that lasted only a second before being engulfed in grating static. Gritting his teeth, Valcourt ran into the long grass and thick fog that lay in the battle room beyond. [B]--- Environment Emulation Area, C Sector Maverick Hunter Headquarters 0218 hours ---[/B] Demos stood with a foot on the chest of the fallen mech, a stream of blood flowing from the gaping hole that went right through the armoured husk of the exoskeleton and through the chest of it's unfortunate pilot. The Hunter's energy sword still extended from his right buster into the wound. Any blood that splashed onto the crackling white blade spat and hissed as it disappeared in a puff of putrid crimson steam. Demos deactivated his sword and stepped off his dead opponent, only to come face to face with another mech--specifically, the one equipped with the air-burst charge weapon. Before Demos could even raise his buster in defense, the exosuit had dashed back three meters and aimed it's weapon. "Exo-3, encountering Demos!" the pilot screamed into his headset as he squeezed the trigger and fired the air-burst at the Maverick Hunter. The reploid braced himself, although to no avail. He was flung backwards as the compressed ball of air hit him, tossed like a ragdoll some thirty meters back and into a large rock. He hit it hard and flipped over, landing violently on his back. He groaned, and got to his feet quickly. Already, he could see the suit dashing towards him. As it lurched forwards, a rustling in the bushes next to the exoskeleton caught Demos' attention. A ball of electric blue fire pierced the fog, and reduced the right shoulder of the mech to molten slag. The right arm, carrying the heavy air-burst weapon shuddered and cracked as it became dislocated from it's damaged frame. With no shoulder and it's internal mechanics all but destroyed, the arm crashed to the ground, crippling the massive suit. From out of the thick pasture jumped Reverb, delivering a strong kick to the core of the machine which saw it stumble back, giving the Reploid enough room to draw his sword. His blade in hand, the Elite Hunter lunged at his enemy. The mech, however, counter-attacked with an ionized saw-blade; an ultra-high frequency vibrating weapon like Reverb's progressive sword. The two blades created an intense sonic harmony when they struck each other--so intense that when the blades collided, they manifested a deafening shockwave and were flung apart. This brief lapse in combat was interupted with a booming order from Demos. "Reverb, [i]move![/i]" Of course, Reverb couldn't help but look in his commander's direction. Demos held the severed arm of the mech and the air-burst weapon it wielded over his shoulder like a bazooka. Reverb's eyes widened in disbelief, and the reploid threw himself clear. The Exosuit turned to face the Hunter Commander, it's ionized saw blade still spinning and glowing with a white aura. Demos smirked and materialized the Fox-III buster in his free hand. He pointed the barrel of his buster across the barrel of the massive breeching weapon, and produced a small blue flame from his own weapon. "Burn, motherfucker." Demos whispered under his breath, and activated the air-burst. Just as he had planned, the compressed oxygen ignited fiercely as it passed the flame from the Fox-III. The massive, burning ball of air and fire hit the mech with unprecedented fury; melting the front armour, frying all it's circuitry and cooking the pilot within to a crisp. The mech stood blackened and withered, and quickly crumpled to the ground as it's charred and brittle legs snapped under it's own weight. Demos dumped the now depleted air-burst weapon on the floor, and flashed a devilish grin at Reverb. "Three down."

I'm happy with how the story is progressing so far. It's made me appreciate dirty old paper in ways I never thought I could! Seriously though, no-one's posted in like a week! I would be very disappointed if this great story went down the drain so early.

[img]http://img259.imageshack.us/img259/1765/burnhamkh8.jpg[/img]   [SIZE="2"][i]December 25th, 2007[/i] [b]Merry Christmas, right? Well it could be worse. At least I've got my health... We decided to get ourselves a nice big X-mas hamper from Burnham--That's the Burnham Military Base about 30 kilometers out of town, I included a map above. There wasn't alot of military intervention during the early stages of the invasion, so I figure there must be a cache of Army munitions out there; armour, vehicles and especially weapons. We rely on our firearms, and securing as many as possible boosts our morale and our security. Myself, Jay, Tama and Adam are heading there at dawn; we're driving there in a Police riot van so we've got plenty of cargo space and another three drivers in case we find some useful vehicles. In other events, this week we found and took in another batch of survivors; Nathan and Kelly, they're a young couple, both uni students (well, ex-students now I guess); Dave Mills, he's a salesman at a local Ford dealership; and Eve, she's a 25-year old training coach at some corporate office. She's really positive & enthusiastic, which is a godsend considering the state of the world. Also, she is [i]stacked[/i].. (C'mon, I gotta think about repopulation! It'd be naive not to!) In all seriousness though, repopulation has been mentioned a couple of times, but to be quite honest it's the last thing we need right now. No, I have not been replaced with a Zombie body-double: As a male sex is always on my mind, but we do not need to be making babies anytime soon. Food is gonna become really hard to come by once our supplies start diminishing, so we're gonna need to ration it out until we get livestock and a vegetable garden organised. Throwing a newborn child in the mix would make everything far more difficult. Anyway, I better wrap this up. Once again we've got an early start to the day. Hopefully this trip will be profitable! Also, Zombie related tip of the day? Crossbows are awesome. That is all. [/b][/SIZE]  

[IMG]http://img367.imageshack.us/img367/596/suitrp7.jpg[/IMG]   [SIZE="2"][i]December 19th, 2007[/i] [b] So this has been taking up most of our time lately; designing better ways to fight these things and ensure our own survival.Very satisfying. Working on plans and projects like this keeps us sane and stops us from dwelling on the catastrophic tragedy that has befallen us... I've included a sketch I've done of how I think the final product should look. The armour is our solution to the ever growing threat of being cornered by one of those things with no protection. Hence we decided to modify the riot gear and fashion ourselves something to wear. Now it's just a matter of finding the components we don't have yet; Camouflage and butcher's mail. The rest of it we already have thanks to the NZPD and their surprisingly well-stocked armoury, heh. I'm proud of our survival effort thus far; obviously we're incredibly lucky to have made it this far when so many others have perished. But we're keeping our cool and sticking to our plan, which is how we're gonna carry on until we get through this. Good news on the people front as well. We've come across several uninfected people over the past week, all of whom we've brought back to our Police HQ stronghold. In the center of town we met Tama, a big old Maori guy who used to work as a bouncer. He was beating off Zombies with a lead pipe when we first saw him. Then there's Adam, he's a thirty-something civil engineer who knows everything there is to know about fabrication and on-the-fly construction. He's proven himself invaluable with our barricading and automotive work. We also raided a shopping mall and found three other survivors holed up in a women's clothing store; Christine, she's a 20-year old student at polytech studying tourism and hospitality (couldn't help but notice there's none of either left, heh). Leah, a young blonde girl who was training to be a nurse, and a tutor from the same school both girls were attending, Claire. Claire's in her late twenties and smoking hot. Great morale booster. Supplies are easy to find. It's sad to think about why--The majority of the population died so quickly that dozens of supermarkets and food warehouses haven't even been visited by the looters that plagued the streets only a few weeks ago. The main supply we rely on is diesel fuel to keep our generators running. Thankfully we've got a hefty supply--we hijacked a semi cab and have been using it to bring tanker trailers back to the compound. We've got a couple of full tanks parked next to the generator house right now--They'll last us another few weeks still. Having power is a luxury that we don't want to part with anytime soon. Amazingly, the internet remains up. There's not alot of activity left, just a handful of survivors trying desperately to contact anyone they can. All the major websites have become eerie time-lines of our descent to the brink of extinction. YouTube consists of only two kinds of video; Zombie attacks and suicide notes. Social profiling sites like Myspace have become the epitaphs of an entire generation, listing their goodbyes and last words. It's creepy, and I avoid it as much as possible, but obviously linking up with other survivors is paramount. It's past 10pm but it's still light outside. Ah, even now I love the summertime. I write this entry on the roof of the tower, sitting in an armchair with the orange glow of the sunset at my back. This has become my favourite place to relax in HQ, as it is far away from the maddening, baritone wail of the undead. Time to get me some rest, gotta save my energy for further deliberation on this Zombieproof Riot suit tomorrow. Will write again soon. [/b][/SIZE] 

  [i]Monday, December 3rd, 2007[/i] [b] It's nice to finally have a chance to sit back and write another entry, especially considering how I didn't expect us to live past the weekend. Even though I said we wouldn't, we decided to brave the city center on Saturday, and headed to the Police Headquarters in town. Figured the blood and gore were a necessary evil to ensure our survival. "The ends justify the means" has become our unspoken motto on any moral issues we face now. Anyways, we were just planning on raiding the station to get supplies, and if we were lucky, any weapons or stuff that hadn't already been lifted. So we get there to find it was abandoned by all human life, but crawling with Zombies. Thing is, there's only three street entrances to the station--two fully locked and gated vehicle entrances, and a pedestrian entrance up a narrow flight of stairs to the lobby area, which could be easily sealed. We figured this was too good a stronghold opportunity to pass up. Once we build a sufficient barricade over the pedestrian entrance and secured the vehicle gates, it took us a full day just to clear it of the undead. But the pay-off is that we now have a massive stronghold in the center of the city. The map doesn't really show, but it's a big complex, taking up half a block. The entire facility is made up of a large open-air car park, extensive garage/workshop and storage buildings, an on-site power source (diesel generators), and of course the main tower. The HQ building is fifteen stories tall, including two basement levels which house undercover parking and detention cells. Map follows;[/b]  [CENTER][img]http://img373.imageshack.us/img373/6939/mapoy7.jpg[/img][/CENTER]   [SIZE="2"][b] During our exploration of the abandoned station we came across the Armed Offenders Squad (basically SWAT) armoury, which contained some full-body riot gear and a plethora of Police heavy munitions--breeching charges, MP5SD6's, Glock 19's and SIG-Sauers, Police issue Remington bolt-actions and Shotguns, Colt M4A1s... Christ, I'm such a gun nut. Especially now. And even though I was practically wetting myself when we found the AOS room, the evidence & contraband was even better. My god, it's like a fucking pirate's treasure cove! Whole rooms filled with illegal weapons like switchblades, tazers, banned firearms, explosives... then there were the drugs. Holy shit, the drugs. Shelves crammed with bags of methanphetamine, pounds and pounds of weed, prescription medications.. The list goes on. I know these will come in handy soon, seeing as Me and Jay have been chain smoking doobies for about a month now. Only way I can stay calm nowadays. Still, can you blame us? Over the past few months, we've seen our society crumble to nothing, our governments have failed us and humanity has suffered a crushing blow, and for all we know, could be looking at total extinction. We've seen friends and family turn from the people we love into brain-dead monsters who constantly hunger for the flesh of the living. We've had to kill our co-workers, our neighbors, women, children... The disease has no mercy, so neither can we. It's too depressing to think about, so we've been keeping ourselves busy with plans for new equipment. Now that we have a fully equipped workshop in the Police compound, we started implementing some upgrades and shit to the Legacy. We've already got all the parts we need, and I sketched up the basic design in my journal.. This journal, that is. We should have it done by next Monday. Well, I better get some rest. It's nearly three in the morning, and we've got an industrious day ahead of us. Sketch is over the page. ---> [/b][/SIZE]   [CENTER][img]http://img373.imageshack.us/img373/8560/battlewagonbu2.jpg[/img][/CENTER]

  [SIZE="2"][i]November 30th, 2007[/i] [b] A lot has changed in six weeks. It was only mid-september when I wrote my last entry, but my god, it feels like another life time ago. About a month ago, at the very end of September, the government starting handing out these pills, "Phalanx" they called 'em, to counter the "African Rabies". Of course, there was no such thing as African Rabies, and the pills were placebos--that's right, fucking [i]placebos[/i]--distributed to quell mass hysteria. Thing is, people didn't stop getting infected. About a week and a half later the public found out about these sugar pills, and they went batshit fucking insane. So about three weeks ago, my fair city's society crumbled. Lootings, murder, rape.. Christ, without infrastructure we're as bad as the fucking zombies. I killed my first a few days after that... It wasn't easy. I recognised the guy, he used to work at the same mall as I did. I drank alot that night. Somehow, though, it gets easier every time.. Which is more sickening than the killing itself.. We've been looting too, especially over the past few days. It's a lot less crowded now. Our numbers are thinning out fast and it shows; there's more of those zombies on the streets than living people now. My family has left the city, they've headed down south to stay with our relatives down there. They have a place in the mountains, it's sheltered and safe for now. I stayed in the city with my friend Jay, who's been invaluable to our survival. He's a mechanic, and knows a hell of a lot more than I do about automotive engineering and fabrication than I ever will. Three days ago, we broke into a gun store in the city, managed to grab a car load of weapons and ammo. We made one other trip into the city center, to raid the local military surplus store. Managed to score some bullet proof vests and army survival gear. Next step is to try and break into Police HQ downtown and get some riot gear. 'Cept I don't think we'll be going into the central city again anytime soon... It's too gruesome. So many bodies. So much blood. I have to go now, but I'll try and keep this log updated. It may just be my last will and testament, hah. [/b][/SIZE]  

  [SIZE="2"][b][i]September 18th, 2007[/i][/b] [b]I haven't slept in two days. A couple of nights ago I woke up and there was a man clawing at my sliding door. I called the cops and they got here quickly and took him away, but now it's like I don't feel safe in my own house anymore. There's been more of these crazy outbreaks around the South Island, and I for one am starting to freak out. Reports of this mass epidemic are all over the internet and there are hundreds of videoed sightings of these crazed, infected people flooding YouTube. The government says New Zealand is at "low risk" of any kind of pandemic scenario; and that the incident is "being contained", but I've seen what's happening in the US. It's spreading, and it seems like they're having trouble keeping it under control. What scares me is our government hasn't grounded any flights or closed ports--Who knows how many carriers could have unknowingly brought the disease with them? Gah. I'm probably just being paranoid, but it's a pretty fucking scary situation! Anyway, work's been hell. We've been pulling massive overtime to deal with overdue payments--tax evasion has risen 500% in the last month alone (low risk my ass). I've got work from 7am 'til 7pm tomorrow--[i]again[/i]. Man, I feel like a fucking zombie. Thank god for coffee and energy drinks, right? On a positive note, I am looking forward to playing Halo 3 soon. That shit comes out in a weeks time! Come hell or high water, there's no way I'm missing out on that game. Can't wait to vegetate in front of my widescreen for days on end, haha. Still, it's hard to distract myself from what's happening right now. It's unnerving, and I now keep shitslugger (my baseball bat) within an arms reach at all times. Oh well, gotta hope for the best, right? [/b][/SIZE]  

[b][URL="http://youtube.com/watch?v=Ll8Qm8yDj-8"]Indian "Thriller"[/URL][/b] I don't think this requires any further explanation