The Harlequin

[font=gothic][color=indigo]OOC: Megumi Momo...where to start. Firstly, please separate your posts so that it's obvious who's doing what, especially in terms of conversations. Secondly, spelling. Try it, it's easy. Thirdly...please use real words. "Hostilation"... [i]Xvirran needed something to drink. Not that he could get in the least bit inebriated no matter how much alcohol he imbibed. Having kidneys equipped with filtering one's own acidic blood left drunkeness a sorry shadow of a possibility. The elf wasn't his problem. The drow wasn't his problem. Actually, when he got right down to it...he didn't have problems. Which, given the circumtances, probably made him unique around here. Of course, that was hardly a unique situation for him... Check that. He did have a problem. The mayor. Exactly why the annoying little man kept staring at him and jabbering something was completely beyond Xvirran, and would have remained so had the Mayor not followed the draconic being over to the makeshift bar. Xvirran interrupted the diatrabe with a low, guttural mutter, sounding like gravel being sifted through chainmail more than anything else.[/i] Xvirran: Do be a relative use, and pass me a couple of tankards of amontillado... [i]The mayor did so, then started as Xvirran unceremoniously downed the first one. For some reason he couldn't seem to get passed the large fangs...Xvirran indulged him with a wide grin, and ran his forked tongue over his front fangs, in a horrid parody of a seductress's enticement. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't bothered for quite a while after that. That, of course, suited him fine. After all, he'd sat there for several hours without making an issue of quite a lot of things he would have preferred to make issue of, mainly the idiocy of most other mortal beings he knew. His current lack of anonymity notwithstanding (it took a little more than simply using a sobriquet to hide himself, after all), the crowd was drunk enough that he didn't have to answer any annoying questions about his nature, given the difficulty in slurring out anatomic terminology. So, despite being surrounded by people who regarded him as anywhere from an amusing curiousity to an outright abomination, Xvirran was surpisingly at peace. Apathy more than anything most likely, but it still served. He debated for a few moments joining in some of the wilder dancing, but doubted these people were ready for the draconic spin. The fact that none of them had wings and a tail meant they simply weren't equipped for it, after all. So basically he couldn't get drunk, he couldn't try to talk to anyone, he couldn't actually get involved in the festivities, and he probably couldn't simply disappear. This did seem to have its drawbacks after all.[/font][/color][/i]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]OOC: KnightofTheRose and Valen, I assume you didn't re-read my sticky thread... Name: Xvirran Alqweristyrx Age: 427 Race: Haf dragon, details explained further down. Eyes: Midnight indigo. Hair: I'm a reptile for gods' sake...what do you think? Armor: Natural scales and such. Weapons: Natural equipment. Powers: Typical black dragon stuff, acid breath and resistance to magic of various types. Personality: Doesn't exactly have a human appreciation of things, to say the least. More thoughtful than most mortals, with humour bent towards irony. Introspective and fatalistic. Doesn't get angry easily, but when he does, it turns more to cold, sustained antipathy rather than quickly dispersed, explosive rage. Doesn't show emotions much anyway. Biography: Born of a mental union between the ancient black Khallamyth and a basically nameless elf, Xvirran doesn't really have a place in any kind of world, peaceful or no, and has longevity enough to make that tedious. Given nothing else to do, he mainly acts as something of a scholar, though he's rather haphazard about it. He doesn't really bother talking about his past, considering it's basically more of the same, and irrelevant to him anyway. Appearance: About seven feet tall, covered in black scales, and rather bulky. Reptillian in form. Looks basically like a humanoid dragon, with more developed forelimbs, into proportionately length arms, though there is still little dexterity in the digits, remaining claws for gripping. Shoulders are massively developed, and hunched forward slightly. The arms do possess an elbow joint. Legs have become less haunches, and more adapted to walking bipedally, though the pelvis has not fully flattened out, meaning Xvirran leans forward slightly. Dislikes walking in quadraped fashion, though it is possible, and it hurts his spine. Still retains wings, batlike appendages of surprising strength (the stories about dragons falling from the sky with a spear in their wings is ridiculous...It's as hard to pierce wing leather as it is the scales, though wing leather is less rigid), as well as a barbed tail many feet in length. Xvirran has a draconic head, with two upswept horns of grey, and a dragon's maw, and a forked tongue, giving him a sibilance when speaking common tongue. On the other hand, he has more crushing power per square inch than anything short of a full dragon... Kinship to the chosen one: Along for the ride. Isn't overly concerned with the coming altercation, but hey, he's never run into anyone from the empire before.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]I recommend you re-read the sticky thread outlining the rules. A one paragraph backstory doesn't cut it.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][i]Qiqirn bounced easily on the balls of his feet, and rolled his neck around. The lights were bright, but at right angles to him, meaning he wasn't disadvantaged. At least, he wasn't alone in the disadvantage. Besides, at this point, and given the roaring around them, a few lights weren't going to significantly add to the pressure. The world boxing heavyweight championship was a highly contested event, and it was with a lot of annoyed contenders that a recalcitrant Inuit made it to the final. Qiqirn silently debated however annoyed they'd be when he won. Which, of course, he had no doubt, even is the thousands of shouting fans, not to mention the derisive commentators, disagreed. Which didn't bother him. Hell, he'd kill vampyres, werewolves, creatures of the nights, and the far more dangerous foes, other humans, for about thirty years. Some punk kid, even if this punk kid was named Lars, was six foot six, and looked like he had at some point used planking to pick his teeth. No doubt his teeth would look at lot worse later. Qiqirn stretched his arms a final time, and nodded to the "referee". Never eager to get involved in fights, an official was hardly going to come between these two. Qiqirn lacked the bulk of his opponent, weighing in at only 198, but his qualifying fights had all ended the same way. The other man on the ground, barely breathing. The referee blew his whistle, and shouting erupted around the room, amplified over the loud speaker. Qiqirn didn't move, simply continued bouncing on his feet slightly. Lars smiled his less than attractive grin, and took that as an invitation, stepping forward with a huge haymaker. Qiqirn didn't move, just smiled a little. The blow caught him on the left cheek, and snapped his head sideways. In fact, it bowled him over completely. Mainly because he allowed it too, but it still surprised him slightly. Rather than lie there though, Qiqirn rolled backwards onto his feet. Lars, predictably, had followed him, with another hook. This one, Qiqirn ducked, stepping outside Lar's arm, and burying his own right in Lar's diaphragm. Given the musculature there, it only distracted him for a moment, but that was all Qiqirn wanted. He wanted to get in close. Qiqirn would concede that size and strength didn't matter. Reach did, and he stood by that. And this guy had the arms of a gorilla. Now the fight changed direction. Qiqirn drew his right arm back, and uppercutted Lars. Most people do that by striking under the chin. Qiqirn knew better, and struck the point of the chin directly, which sent reverbrations through Lars' thick skull, staggering him. Qiqirn continued with a blindingly fast left hook, two right crosses, one to the nose, one to a cheekbone, a left jab, a right hook, and then launched into a left punch from the hip, that struck on a forty five degree angle. This meant it pushed Lars back, while allowed Qiqirn to spin off it. He did so, spinning clockwise until his right shoulder faced Lars. From there, he brought his right up in a leading edge uppercut. It was a move few could truly perform was any power...But this had Qiqirn's full momentum behind it, and he was far from a weakling. The rising punch again struck Lars on the jaw, which served basically to shake his brain around like a ship in a storm. Qiqirn immediately quickstepped out of range, and stood waiting... ...Sure enough, Lars fell, like a tree topped by the woodcutter he probably was. Qiqirn lowered his hands and waited. There wasn't a lot of blood, so no one really believed he'd been seriously injured. Qiqirn found out a week later that Lars had permanent brain damage. Not that that was really much of a regression, or something that burdened Qiqirn. After all, he'd only been in it for the money. And he'd received a lot of that, despite the fact he turned down numerous sponsorship offers. He could have made his fortune simply off adding his face to products, but couldn't be bothered. He was set up for a while now, and he'd be more than capable of completely disappearing from the limelight. The major promoters certainly wouldn't object if the upset winner disappeared. Nor would too many other people, given his ethnicity. Which didn't bother him in the slightest. Besides, the reason he'd come to Chicago was to beat up things probably a bit more dangerous than Lars, simply because they actually had minds...Most of them anyway. And that was the kind of thing he didn't want to have a high profile in. Qiqirn looked around his rented hotel room, and shook his head. He was technically moving up in the world, but he still somehow preferred an ice hut in the middle of the Arctic. And gods knows he was glad to get out of that pathetic, flashing boxing gear.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]You need to put more effort into your backstory. One paragraph completely fails to cut it. And I'm fairly certain we've had this conversation before. Either way, you should know better.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Actually...you're perfectly entitled to that post. That one post, specifically. It's repeated posts, for each member, that annoy me.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]OOC: I'm under orders to take a bash at goosing this thing until it starts kicking again. IC: [i]Leorik, though technically asleep, was rather pissed off at the moment. Mainly because though biologically, Leorik's body was asleep, Leorik's mind was very much not asleep. More to the aggravating point, Leorik's mind was not only not asleep, it was also nowhere near the particular forest where Leorik's body was sleeping. Actually, Leorik's mind wasn't in the same world, or even the same time frame, as it's natural body. Leorik could accept that, strange as it was. Unexpected, uncontrollable things happened every now and then, and you shouldn't really get annoyed by it....No, what truly vexed Leorik was the fact that his mind was now happily ensconed in the brain of a weedy elf...Not by elven standards, but by a nine foot tall half storm giant's standards...Actually have to strain to move objects around was aggravating. Not being able to flatten ogres with a single punch was worse. Having the high, lyrical voice of an elf, even one such as this, which was admittedly dark, was truly horrible. Not having any idea how he "got here" or how to "get back" was only about as half annoying as that last though... He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do, and he truly considered ramming this weak elven head against a wall for a while, just to see if the owner liked it when he got back...But considered the skull would probably break if he so much as looked at it wrong, and decided better of it. So he simply sighed, and sat down. He was in a comfortable looking room, and there was a chair, so it didn't seem there was anything left to do. Of course, that meant that in a dark forest several realms and years away, there was an elf running around in a nine foot giant's body...And that elf knew exactly how he'd gotten there, and wasn't happy about it. Especially not when he woke up, stood up, and slammed his skull on a tree branch. Said skull was a little tougher than his old one though...The tree branch gave way first. The elf dragged his body out from under the collapsed shelter, and stood up, stretching muscles, and growing accustomed to the new physique. Eyeing off another sturdy oak directly in front of him, he level a spinning heel at it, just to see if he could... He ended up on his back, dignity six feet under. He again stood up, and decided that he'd work on that kind of thing later. He had a couple of old...well, not exactly old given this frame of reference, because he technically hadn't met them yet, anyway, old acquiantances to catch up with, a bit of tinkering with the time/space continuum, and after that a no doubt angry giant to appease. Lacroix considered that it wasn't the strangest situation he'd been in, and he'd certainly manage to severely entangle the minds of people he technically should meet for another decade or so at least...But it wasn't their fault, and he'd explain it to them a half century or so from now...Of course, by that point he was busy getting caught up in the myriad possibilties, and how everything could alter, only to realise one very, very annoying fact....As mental synapses go...giant's aren't too crash hot.[/font][/color][/i]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Hmmm. We'd better all go re-read the sticky thread at the top of the page. Firstly, for the "When does this start" and "You're in" posts, secondly for the complete lack of sign up details. A couple of hundred words people. If you can't put that much effort in, I don't know why anyone would expect you to actually work in the rpg itself.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]In future, don't double post, simply edit your first post. [/font][/color]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by vicky [/i] [B][SIZE=1][B]But sometimes people do post like that to give people more information, like how many they need to start it, and that stops people asking when it starts. I sometimes even post on my sign-up, for no reason but, hey, sometimes I do it to tell people when we start.[/SIZE][/B] [/B][/QUOTE] [font=gothic][color=indigo]And I've explained the particulars of that kind of thing in Rules thread in AA, and I strongly recommend you re-read it. Anything in there you object to, or don't understand, simply PM me, and I'll be more than happy to explain it to you.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Baron Samedi, is there a decent reason you didn't edit your original post? I'm sure there is, since you seemed to be happy enough to edit the second one...[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]If you see posts like that, than hit the Report Post button. They annoy me as much as they annoy everyone else, probably more so, since I'm constantly telling people to [i]stop[/i] writing them. James covered the reason some posts are other than sign ups are allowed in recruitment thread, and I'm damn sure I've told everybody who reguarly posts in AA at least twice not to spam in such threads. And if I haven't directly told them, they'd certainly have participated in a thread where I've mentioned it. I'll make a direct issue of it in the rules thread there, and see if that actually has an effect.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]The only album I've got is Absolution (and that was insanely hard to find, Australia is probably worse than the US), and I actually wanted it for Time is Running Out and Falling rather than Stockholm Syndrome....Probably making me unique. Other than that, the only songs I've really heard are Plugin Baby and Deadstar. I would be going to see them at the Big Day Out, but I'm hanging out for an APC ticket instead...Damn.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Name: Qiqirn Amaruq (Pronounciation and meanings you can dig up yourself, if you're interested. The last name, the bestowed name, does mean wolf though.) Hunter-Net Name: Quietus666 Age: 45 Hair: Dark, and worn cropped close, mercenary (NOT typical American soldier buzzcut though) fashion. Remains clean shaven, as not to give an adversary somewhere to grasp. Eyes: Dark enough to seem black. Height: 5"11 Weight: 198 lbs (90 kgs for the rest of us.) Creed: Judge Weapons: A pair of traditional "panas" made of lycanthrope bone, resmebling kukris more than anything else, along with a modern version of the traditional harpoon. An eight foot shaft, the bladed head being a foot long. The entire thing collapses down to two feet if neccessary. So obviously you can use the thing as a lever. The barbs make up for the lack of haft strength though. Along with that, a pair of sawn off Waste class combat shotguns. Also about two feet long, they can each fire up to eight shots without being reloaded. Both use direct shells, rather than spray fire. Qiqirn doesn't bother with them unless the situation calls for it though. Edges: Cleave, Discern, Impact, Burn, Smite. Appearance: Qiqirn has the typical pale Inuit skin, which is stretched over a scarred and grizzled body that, despite advancing age, still averages less than the medically safe level of body fat, and is overly muscular. His features remain frozen, the only expressions he makes are either with his eyes, or his brows, and they're only ever slightly raised in some kind of sardonic statement. His mouth remains a flat line. Not surprising, he doesn't have a lot to smile about. He wears typical caribou skin pants, along with a heavy shirt made out of Polar bear's hide, and although the thing is many, many years old now, and has seen quite a bit of misuse, it's still in very good shape, the only hole being under the left arm, where a stray knife got through. He has eschewed the typical Kamiks for sturdy combat boots. When neccessary, he wears molded kelvar armour over the shirt. In most cases, polar bear hide is thick enough to deter a slash from anything smaller than a claymore anyway. Also wears a bit of leather gauntlets. They are also caribou leather, though not stuffed to protect from the cold, so as not to impair dexterity. They reach about three inches back past his wrist. The only nonstandard thing about them is an inlaid metal plating, over the back of the hand, not including the area near the thumb joint, though it does flow down to cover the outer edge of his hand. Ends just before his first knuckle. Used for deflecting attacks, and backhanding idiots. Biography: An Inuit, born and raised about as far north as people can live and survive. He's not sure exactly where that is though, since the traditionalist tribe he was born into didn't bother teaching more than local geography. From birth, he was toughened by basically the harshest living environment you can get. Privation, cold, and predators, many of the two legged kind, stalked Qiqirn's tribe, keeping the numbers eternally low, and their pride eternally high. The north, however, especially the less civilised parts, are prime hunting grounds for rogue blood drinkers however. When people die each day of the cold, and are paler than the snow around them naturally, death from loss of blood isn't overly obvious. Qiqirn had grown up with very few people his own age, the only one of note a female friend he'd known since birth, as their parents were also close. There was no romantic interest there, Qiqirn was simply rather solitary. Their particular tribe followed the old practice of a manhood ceremony, a hunt to determine whether a boy was worthy. Normally, these hunts returned caribou, or wolves. Qiqirn single handedly killed a large polar bear, and had just finished skinning it (except for the head, which he left to show his respect for the animal's might) when several of the tribe's elder's turned up. At first, the congratulated him on his kill, seemingly more happy than was warranted. Then one of them took the first bite. Imbuing: Qiqirn was eighteen at the time of that hunt. He stood, confused, as the elder's bit into the polar bear, while he merely stood, holding the still bloody, though already scraped, hide. After a while, one of the elder's eyes focused to him, and the man came towards him. Qiqirn stood unmoving, until the man's hand closed on his throat. Though he looked about sixty, and on the verge of death, Qiqirn had to fight hard to remove the hand from his throat, and the sound of the struggle caught the attention of the others. There were only six, and all old looking men, but Qiqirn barely survived. Eventually, the last fell to a harpoon to the heart, and Qiqirn sucummbed to unconsciousness, brought on by exhaustion, and a series of large scratches, though they were from the bear, not the vampyres. Qiqirn woke in a snow hut, alone except for his single friend. A newfound sense drew a startled a startled gasp, though she did nothing but sit there, working at some task. Qiqirn stood up, and though he staggered, made to leave. She turned her head, and her eyes met his. It was her turn to gasp, as she instinctively knew he recognised her for what she was. "You're leaving?" "I must...I don't know truly what you are, but your kind are evil" She bowed her head, and removed a long dagger from her boot, and, before Qiqirn could react, run herself through with it. Her heart's life poured itself out over the leather before her, sewn into the shirt Qiqirn still wears. Qiqirn suspects the evil blood lends it part of its toughness, but doesn't question. Once he'd walked out of that snow hut and gone south, he'd educated himself to the civilised world fairly quickly, at last finding this "Hunter net" thing. A stupid idea to him, since no doubt the vampires were smart enough to track down using it, but by that time he'd been scarred enough not to care. Only the fact that the only friend he'd ever had had been a blood drinker, and the fact that she'd ended her life rather than have to kill him, stopped him from becoming a consumed avenger.[/font][/color]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Dragon Warrior [/i] [B]MrSonic was banned so... is it right to continue this RPG? XD [/B][/QUOTE] [font=gothic][color=indigo]It's fine, provided general post quality picks up a bit. (And it the incessent spelling "teh" really neccessary people?)[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Welcome to Otakuboards, both of you. Obviously, you both have a fairly good idea of what you're doing (a rather refreshing novelty, unfortunately), so I assume you've either read the rules, or have had enough experience elsewhere to know the general way things run. That said, here at Otakuboards, we tend to insist that rpgs start with more of a back story then you've included, normally something along the lines of a couple of hundred words. There's a far bit of leeway there though, so don't be too concerned, especially given that this is a first for you here. Anyway, reading, or re-reading, the sticky thread at the top of the Adventure or Recruitment forums entitled "A few reminders" should cover anything else that needs to be said. Insanely yours, The Harlequin.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]OOC: I've been away for a week. IC: [i]After pointedly not shooting several people who were randomly wandering around, and of an unknown identity, Katarina was rather pointedly not happy.[/i] Katarina: Vell? Vhen do I get to go back to a shoot on site situation? Liam: Well, at the moment, you don't get to. At the moment, you and Malania get to waltz back here, and we'll work things out from there. However, I may just let you shoot a few more Americans in the near future. Katarina: Well doesn't that just warm my rather less than charitable heart. We'll be down in a minute. Chances are there won't be a lot of them running up around here anymore anyway. [i]After spending a few minutes packing up, and restowing in various positions, the sniper rifle, and retransferring the shotguns to Katarina, the two skulked along the now painfully hot roof top, managing to avoid getting any semi-vital portions of their anatomy removed by high speed projectiles. Which was more than could be said for the half score of bodies splaying out in various positions on the area outside the building. They ran into the disparate group of misfits they'd had sequestered on them a few minutes later. Along with one they hadn't seen before. Noting Katarina's raised eyebrow, and slightly tensed hands, Liam made a hasty introduction.[/i] Liam: Actually Kat, this is Ryan, and no, he's not actually hostile. Ryan, these are our comrades from the KGB, Katarina and Malania. [i]Ryan's indifferent nod coincided rather well with Katarina's muttered Russian response. Malania refused to translate.[/font][/color][/i]

[font=gothic][color=indigo] [b][u]General Awards[/b][/u] [b]Male Otaku of the Year:[/b] Liamc2 [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] [b]Female Otaku of the Year:[/b] Lady Asphyxia [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Ravenstorture [b]Staff Member of the Year:[/b] Shy [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Semjaza (Those two always seem to have to deal with a hell of a lot of **** that most people really wouldn't have the patience for.) [b]Funniest Member:[/b] Dragon Warrior [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] [b]Most Opinionated Otaku:[/b] PoisonTongue [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Cloricus [b]Member most likely to be here in two years:[/b] Liamc2 (He has absolutely nothing else to do with himself, after all.) [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Raiha. (She just has nowhere else to go, in my opinion...) [b]Best Newbie:[/b] Annie [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Arcadia [b]Best Oldie:[/b] Lady M [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Heaven's Cloud [b]Most likely to become a Staff Member:[/b] Lady Asphyxia [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Annie [b]Most improved Member of the Year:[/b] ...The fact that Double B Diago has not gotten banned yet basically sums it up. [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Silpheed Pilot, and for the above reason. [b]Silliest Thread of the Year:[/b] Taylor Hewwit's Awesome Club (I still can't believe the idiot thought I was trying to join when I started pointing out rule violations....) [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] That Caption Contest one... After the Budweiser: The Date Rape drug of choice for paedophiles... [b][u]Random Awards[/u][/b] [b]Avatar Award: (Best Avatars Overall)[/b] Charles [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Semjaza [b]Signature Award: (Best Signatures Overall)[/b] Charles [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Chaos, for the newbies banging their heads on keyboards one. [b]Best Otaku Couple:[/b] Ravenstorture and myself. [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Piro and Asuka. [b]Best looking Otaku:[/b] Myself. I'd like to have it noted that the only reason for that choice is the fact that I can scrounge up one damn fine coat. [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Ravenstorture. Does that surprise anyone? [b]Best MyOtaku:[/b] Liamc2 [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Raiha (How do people put up with you?) [b][u]Otaku Writers[/u][/b] [b]Poet Laureate:[/b] Mitch [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Heaven's Cloud [b]Writer of the Year:[/b] Lady Asphyxia [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size] Mitch [b]Role-Playing Game of the Year[/b] SYF 3. [size=1]Honorable Mention:[/size][/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Just a note on post quality people, can we please, for god's sake, separate large bodies of text into paragraphs, and actually use punctuation? Not to mention that several people here could benefit greatly from a spell checker.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Yes, I might want to close the thread. So I do believe I will. And for everybody who posted in this thread, you had all damn well better re-read Otakuboards' rules, and the sticky at the top of the page, and not come to notice for the wrong reasons again anytime soon.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Alright people, I'd say that upwards of fifty percent of the last two pages should have been handled via PM. In fact, other than actual applications, there is no need for any more posts in this thread. For any reason.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Well, it seems you've all got the basic idea of rpging right, but I recommend re-reading the sticky thread at the top of the page anyway. Basically people, the storyline needs quite a bit more substance to it, as do the sign ups. Also, the random posts such as "We need a lot of people for this rpg" are basically spam. Finally, in the case of Jimbob, matters like that are best handled via PMs.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Malania: He's an idiot. Katarina: Don't say you wouldn't do the same. Malania: That's what I meant. Not for going in there, but doing something better left to people like us. Katarina: Hmm, perhaps. I've only got one knife though, and it's merely a standard issue combat knife. Not to be used on anything more threatening than a deranged field mouse. Malania: I've got your ataghans. Katarina: Well then, I do believe he is, indeed, an idiot. Let's make a point of telling him so when he gets back. Malania: Assuming you don't get trigger happy and shoot him as soon as he sticks his head out. Katarina: You don't want the gun? Malania: Not at the moment. [i]Katarina wasn't sure how Liam had guessed they'd had a couple of rather effective high power things stashed here and there in the few heavy cases they'd so far acquired. Whether he knew about a couple of other things he probably wasn't meant to was something they should perhaps find out. For now though, assembling the Dragon was occupying Katarina's hand. Stowing the various weapons they had had meant they'd had to be dismantle to the nth degree. Truth be told, Katarina could have been carrying ninety percent of the sniper rifle with her, and still been unobtrusive. Unobtrusiveness was factoring rather largely on her mind at the moment, given that her position was hardly as safe as, say, behind a group of rather large crenellations. In fact, the low retaining wall around the roof was only a good two feet high. The heat made it even more painful, and could easily have made it lethal....Katarina truly hated the heat, it made her ever so slightly lethargic, and if things got dicey, reaction time would no doubt mean quite a lot. For the moment, the small expanse, followed by the line of trees, was almost motionless. The Dragon, on an easily collapsable tripod, wasn't equipped with an infra-red scope, so all it would do at the moment was restrict her range of vision. Instead, they simply waited for some hapless fool to pop his head up. The last thing they expected was for that to actually happen. Out of seemingly solid ground, dirt was thrown aside as someone rather hurriedly tried to get out of the newly exposed tunnel. Katarina and Malania blinked in surprise, allowing the man time to take about two steps away from the hole. Then, all of a sudden, a pinpoint incision in the back of his head turned into an explosion of gore, as his face shot out like shrapnel. Katarina trained the scope on the tunnel entrance, expecting at least one other person to come out. She was rewarded. First by some kind of gas bomb, rendered futile by the distance separating them, and doing little to obscure the area, then by a furtive head poking up. The body quickly followed. Given that the smoke was at ground level quite a bit thicker, no doubt the person assumed that the inert body a few feet away was whoever had fired the previous shot. Katarina hadn't bothered with the silencer. It wasn't like her position wouldn't be obvious anyway. He gave the area a rather thorough scan, then knelt beside the tunnel opening and whispered something to some unknown amount of people inside. He stood back up, and took two paces back, tripping over the body. He swore loudly, then again, much louder, when he realised the hand he placed on the ground to push himself up was covered in blood. He died before he could make another sound. The third man out of the hole met a similar fate, the bullet slicing through his neck, the fourth got off several shots, all of which missed, before Katarina dispatched him.[/i] Malania: They look awfully eager to get out of there. Katarina: And for good reason, no doubt. [i]Malania just shook her head, and picked up Katarina's shotgun. Hardly the most accurate weapon at this range, but no doubt there were enough people out there, and enough tunnels, to make things rather close range within short order. Given that belated thought, Katarina turned on her mic.[/i] Katarina: By ze vay people, seems zere are more tunnels zan ve originally thought. Keep an eye out.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Hmmm...Well, I believe the other post I made about covers it OutlawKFK. Again, please read the reminders thread at the top of the page. As for CB Shin and G/S/B Master, there is a report post to a moderator button for a reason. Use it.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Welcome to Otakuboards, both of you. Obviously, you're both quite new here, and don't seem to have picked up exactly how this section of the Boards works. Basically, this is a section for collaborative text based rpgs. These normally start with a "sign up" thread, placed in the recruitment forum. This recruitment thread contains a backstory, what the rpg is about basically, as well as the requirements you wish people to list in their sign up. Once you feel enough people have signed up, then you create the thread in this forum, and post from there. Also, OutlawKFK, double posting violates Otakuboard's rules. Please refrain from doing so in the future. More information can be obtained by reading Otakuboards' rule site, the sticky thread entitled "A few reminders", which can be found at the top of the Adventure or Recruitment forum pages, or by PMing Arcadia, Terra, or myself.[/font][/color]