Round Robin: 2024, Humanity on the brink.

Karl 67 · **Posted:** February 8th, 2007, 9:22 pm

World War II... Back then it was bloodshed, well over fifty-four million casualties, whether it was by firearms, terrain disadvantage, stupidity, or just the sheer cold of the Soviet Front. The Government of the United States secretly ordered their top engineers and scientists to develop a weapon before they came up with the "Manhattan Project". By the time the Manhattan Project was being made, the scientists making this other weapon were already hiding in a laboratory in the Northwest Territories. Knowledge of them was being lost as the leaders then were dieing of old age or the occasional assassination.

However, before the last person who knew of it died in 2028, He gave the information to the leader of what we now call... "The New Government." The New Government was instantly intrigued by this secret project which was kept secret from even the 'good' presidents, All the government knew was that this weapon was to be called "A walking tank"; literally immune to rounds that could not pierce and highly resistant to the most powerful of Panzerfaust.

Their immediate interest was not that of a technological advance into helping the human race survive. Secretly, it was the spark to a plan to conquer the world. He never told anyone afterwards. and the last one who knew of it became the second-last one... and the old man's pneumonia finally finished him. The Blanket as put over the old man and the president left. No one noticed the lack of tears that he had.

In his office, He thought about this project... namely what to actually name the nameless project... As most leaders of his experience do.

-----

A 19-year-old male civilian was visiting Quebec to personally witness the moment of truth: the fourth referendum regarding Quebec's separation. The man was sitting on a bike rack with keen balance as he saw the crowds of people fill the large fields watching the Premier walk up to the stage and read the results of the vote.

The crowd hushed down almost instantly when the envelope was torn. The premier adjusted his glasses to get a clear sight at the result. The non-Quebecian civilian listened more closely than ever.

"By 98.2%... YES." The man called into the microphones. The crowd exploded in utter cheer. The last three were complete and utter failures and entertained the 19-year-old to no end. He was partially shocked, mainly because he won't hear the moans of agony by the people who voted yes and lost. The man stood up from the bike rack, stretched his back and began to walk towards hid car.

Or at least, he would've, if not for a large unidentified fleet coming out of seemingly nowhere. He looked up and saw the fleet dropping nukes... Lots of nukes... Too many to count. By then, the artificial suns came into existence.

He broke out in a mad sprint towards the nearest building, conveniently a dentist booth, and threw on the nearest lead coat. It only managed to cover his head and torso. The rest was vaporised. It was no surprise that everything else was blasted away. Three hours later, the story was all over the world...

"Quebec, Half of Ontario, and the Atlantic Provinces, were showered by unknown nuclear attacks."

People around the globe were in plain and utter shock. "Who did Canada do anything bad to?" They asked themselves, as they were respected for hundreds of things, from being the elite Shock Troops during World War I, to being a refuge for the Dutch Royal Family during World War II, all the way to their efforts put into United Nations Peace-keeping Projects.

-----

"What the heck?!" The president accidentally crushed the cup of Ice tea he was craving and cut his hand. He cursed under his breath and got back on topic. "Who did this?" he asked his right-hand man.

"No one knows. the planes quickly disappeared beyond radar imaging. The Satellites are currently docked at the International Space Station. And the Images that HAVE been retrieved, though clear as air, were of planes that could have come from just about anywhere. There were no logos or anything, as if the fleet were not expecting any resistance whatsoever.

The president, though acting serious and all that jazz, was mentally chuckling to himself. At this hour of need, he should be able to send the message that this "weapon" is needed pronto.

-----

Cities across the United States went under chaos as gangs started claiming areas to build bomb shelters for a future attack, Which ultimately turned into fierce turf wars with many gangs teaming up against others. Pretty soon, a few of the important figures were "Soul Banners", "Devil May Cry Rules", and "Princes of Death" There are many others, but they all are just gang alliances pitted against each other for a chance to survive a future bombing.

Many other parts of the world suddenly went under attack by the same fighters which dropped the same load of explosives, utterly wiping out anything that was in the area, namely the Middle-east, some parts of Africa, and even Northern Russia.

The sky turned orange and the stench of sulfur was just about everywhere. Buildings across the globe were damaged in all levels by gangs much like the ones formed in the US. This whole chain of events took two months...

-----

In the base in the North-West Territories, known to the residents as "Phi-By-Phi", a scientist exited a freshly-landed stealth fighter with two of the three pilots that were there. The pilots were carrying rifles whereas the scientist carried nothing but an ice cube with some device drilling into the core. Radiation from whatever that was frozen was being removed and seemingly removed from existence. A rock was pushed aside by hidden mechanics to reveal a heavily locked door. It took a full minute for the door to finally unlock, and another 30 seconds to open. The scientist entered the base and the pilots stayed outside, standing guard. After a few seconds, they began patrols. The third pilot exited and sat on a rock beside the door to the stealth fighter.

"After 80 years, according to our fathers, We finally have the final piece to what we're here for." The third pilot said.

"Why are you so relieved about? We don't have anything else to go back to. Whoever was related to us is either dead or oblivious to our existence." the second pilot replied.

"Hey, at least we're still young, we have much potential for the world." The third pilot.

The door opened, and out stepped a soldier in full combat gear and lacking a helmet.

"You three, IT seems to be working out. Lets watch." The man had a gruff sergeant like voice, which matched his own rank very nicely. The three nodded and followed their sergeant. The door closed shut behind them.

The first part of this hidden base was a lobby filled with gun racks with a layer of dust covering it. The carpet for wiping boots from patrol was recently cleaned, but needed another cleaning since the three pilots walked in. There were also a couple of large plates used as portable cover, using the stands equipped. There were already some standing up in case an unexpected attack arrived.

The next part were three hallways. The one on the left lead to dormitories, the right one lead to the mess hall, and the last one in the center led almost straight to the laboratory. The scientist was nowhere to be seen, he must have rushed to the lab. The four soldiers moved slightly quicker to not miss what could be the completion of their only purpose.

They stood on a balcony comprised entirely of a titanium frame and plexiglass plates. On the opposite end was a similar balcony, except it was twice as large. Computers whirred as even more scientists resembling the first one were working out random stuff, whether it seemed relevant or not. One of the three pilots noted the diagram of a rifle foreign to his knowledge. He pointed it out to the others and they also saw this weird design.

They saw the scientist with the ice cube rush in and join the others. In the dead center stood a 6'5'' humanoid, lifeless and mechanical. It stood limping backward and held up on a stand. There was a cap neatly fit on the thing, worn backwards. A tuft of what looks like "decorative hair" poked out of the "size adjuster" of the hat, which was Velcro.

"Why does he have that useless hairpiece and hat?" the second pilot asked the sergeant.

"To intimidate, Once the enemy tries shooting him, they realize that a head-shot won't cut it. It was pretty ingenious when I thought about it." he replied.

The other pilots nodded and continued watching. the ice cube thawed out pretty quickly and in it was a radiation-free brain, it looked like the brain corals in the Great Barrier Reef, except it was human-sized.

"Whose brain is that anyways?" the third asked.

"According to that scientist, It was from someone who nearly got completely vaporised in that blast in Quebec two months ago. He was once part of the 12th division of the Loyal Edmonton Regiment the year before. But he quit and got into computer business. Led a normal life, went to watch the results of the fourth Referendum, and the rest is basically history.

"What was his name?" the same pilot asked.

"Jakob, I think."

There was no more conversation after that, as the scientists began installing. After what seemed like half an hour, they sparked it to life. Like all machines do, they usually self-calibrate. Some of the scientists performed tests to iron out any mistakes in self-programming. Another two hours passed, and it was finally done. The machine could walk and talk on its own. The scientists in both the main hall and the balcony couldn't believe their eyes, and neither could the marines. The rest of the division in the dormitories heard the racket of whoops and ran in to check it out. They soon whooped along.

The actual celebration was cut short when rounds cracked through the hallways, pelting marines that were unfortunate enough to be there. The three pilots and sergeant gathered four other marines and took cover around the corner to the main entrance. The rest of the group unslung their rifles and flipped the safeties off. During that time, more fell. Then they opened fire.

The eight marines that had time to et around the corner also set their weapons into combat mode. The sergeant swung his rifle around the corner and opened fire over the many corpses that littered the hallways.

The actual corpses impeded the progress by the intruders and provided them with an absolute lack of cover. But they used suppressing fire to keep the enemy from firing on them. It didn't work out as much. But the enemy still outnumbered the eight of them anyways.

An artillery held up a huge rocket launcher and fired through the ranks. All eight of the marines leaped back out of the way. But the rocket smashed through the plexiglass, sailed across the hallway, and obliterated the balcony on the opposite side, sending plexiglass shards in all directions. A pilot and two of the marines were unfortunate enough to be impaled by the shrapnel. The sergeant swore and lit a grenade. He hurled it into the crowd that slowly advanced. An explosion broke out, the shouts of agony satisfied the marines a little. Normal combat continued, killing off a second pilot and a marine.

"We're done for with our current numbers!" shouted one of the two marines. He just about ran into the fray to cause a distraction for three more grenades when he was stopped by a large metallic fist. The mechanical thing in the hall, equipped with the same rifle that was being made on the balcony, marched out of cover. Rounds pelted him almost harmlessly as he fired his own bursts of death. The rest of the battle was short-lived, as one of the two marines also got hit with a lucky round. As the smoke cleared, the remaining three got a good look at Jakob, who had lead marks painting him a slightly darker gray, His torso had a thick breastplate made of what seemed to be titanium. His arms, legs, hands, feet, torso, and even head were made with smoothed titanium plates, painted over with urban camouflage consisting of any shade of gray. Over his torso and front plate was a sash coming from his right shoulder down to his left hip. The number "005" were printed in thick black. The actual number was the number of attempts to a successful creation. The other four obviously a failure. He put on the largest combat boots that were there and started cleaning off the lead marks. The marines helped out.

"Thanks," he said.

"No problem. I'm Sergeant Radon, I'm the highest ranking survivor of the attack.

"We should try to find at least SOME survivors at least." said the pilot, thinking of his two friends.

All of the comrades were examined, none showed vital signs. The pilot swore.

"It's okay," The marine said, "They lived to see their purpose realized and completed."

"Marines, another attack may be imminent, we should finish our introductions and go. This attack and the devastation is obviously a sign that we'll be needed by the Government. We should hurry immediately."

The pilot was sobbing as even removing the shard from his fellow pilots didn't do a thing.

"I'm Private Jason," said the marine. His face was one of a slightly experienced marine that could really deserve a promotion if he was ever noticed.

The pilot, being such a blob sobber, had a fresh face of someone who was practically new. After being calmed down... a lot, he said his name was Marc.

Jakob nodded and awaited orders. The sergeant repeated himself and they left, thinking that being in the actual laboratory was literally burial anyways. They just closed the door and completely hid it. The stealth fighter was destroyed.

"Where would the nearest airport be?" Radon asked Mark.

"There should be one in Ft. McMurray, it's the closest city that's popular."

"Lets move then, before we're noticed."

And they marched off quickly, looking at the orange dusty sky as a "bad omen".

-----WELCOME TO THE ROUND ROBIN-----

To those who are new at this, I am Karl 67, brother of Alex 43, who was the creator of the first Round Robin that actually was successful.

If you do not know what a Round Robin is, than read the paragraph below. If you already do... Read it anyways. Reading is good for the mind.

-----WHAT IS A ROUND ROBIN-----

A Round Robin is basically what some people call "A Roleplaying Game on a FORUM". A Round Robin is impossible to make in a Chatroom. That is just called "Roleplaying" and it made up in short messages and is usually ended up being in a Script Format. A REAL Round Robin, however, is not like the Chatroom Roleplaying. You actually create a character and send him into the story. Then you literally make a piece of writing that tells us what your character does.

Isn't that fun? Not really... Some people prefer any Round Robin to be good for everybody... As long as they're not bad anyways. That's basically why there are rules.

-----RULES-----

Of course, everything that has the word "game" in them have ALWAYS had rules; No exceptions (Even CalvinBall, so don't even try) The rules are pretty basic:

First, we have the Golden Three, or "GT". These are rules that just about EVERY SINGLE Round Robin has.

1-No God-Modding.

This one, I'm literally serious about. The action kills Round Robins like you wouldn't believe. It's how Alex 43's Round Robin died in the first place (As well as that comic, but that's what Tomb says anyways.)

God-Modding is basically "Playing God". Where you have ALL the super powers, ALL the fame and glory and respect and ALL the ladies (or men, depending on the character's gender), and WORST OF ALL, NO WEAKNESSES.

ANYTHING THAT HAS LIFE has a weakness, Even God has a weakness, which is the lack of clarity of whatever "orders" he gave his "creations"... I'm not being anti-religious here though. And I don't mean to offend anyone... Okay, I'm stuck here.

Anyways, make weaknesses for the characters... and make them REASONABLE. It makes no sense to have a character only weak to water and send him into a volcano. And It also makes no sense to have something with the most immortal armor ever and still be light enough to swim perfectly or fly.

Okay, I'm done with this rule. Read on.

2-No killing people permanently.

This rule has ONE EXCEPTION: If the PERSON who owns the TARGET gives permission. If it's just an NPC, than do whatever, Not like I care.

3-No stupidity.

Technically, this is considered a "Silver rule", as it sometimes happens and isn't minded. It's self-explanatory though.

Here are the one that are not in all of them, but if they are listed here, then they are rules.

4-Use PM if sending a message to another RolePlayer
5-Claim a color for your posts. Use the color "Olive" if Out of Character. (Or put an easily noticeable "OOC: (put message here)")
6-(optional, but highly recommended) Use proper grammar and pronunciation. (seriously, the posts containing illiterate stuff tend to hurt your brain after a while.)

(Keep in mind that more rules will be added when people suggest it and I find it reasonable. If anyone has further questions, PM me... or Alex 43, But he usually passes the questions on to me... But he's on more than I am and notices new messages more than I do, so send them to Alex 43 or I.)

And at that, I'll set up the part of my character's biography, which would give you an idea of how the layout should be:

Name: Jakob

*<mechanical soldier created by the lost group of the Loyal Edmonton Regiment>

*Age: 19

Gender: Male

Weapon of Choice: Pulse Rifle made for him, but uses other weapons if needed.

Occupation: Project started by the Old Government, now works for the New Government.

Biography: He was a 19-year-old male citizen of Canada, originally from Saskatchewan, he began his chain of careers as a worker at the Athabasca Tar Sands, where he learned to drive and operate machinery before the age of 15. He progressed through the school years by homeschooling, getting average marks. After a while, he joined the army to join in on some of the UN peace-keeping missions. But it was most US-led. After mastering his training, he left and became a computer animator. On a vacation, he went to Quebec and... Oh heck with it, just read the intro...

*=Optional

Well, there you have it. Second Round Robin that came into existence that has an intro. Woot for me... it took me two days to write...

Lets take this bull by the horns people.

Adbot · **Posted:** February 8th, 2007, 9:22 pm

The Haysta · **Posted:** February 8th, 2007, 9:57 pm

*Mean while in New Zealand Matt and Brad are still playing checkers and don't give a **** that the rest of the world is on the brink of war*

I would just like to point out that plane logos are called insignias and that the only three stealth bombers currently in production are the F-117a NightHawk the B-2 and the F22b Raptor. I don't particularly feel like participating : | but I will still correct your grammar and vocabulary. 8P

MattVortex · **Posted:** February 15th, 2007, 12:16 pm

I'll join this, like I joined the other one.

Do you know if Alex is going to join as well?

Alex 43 · **Posted:** February 15th, 2007, 12:55 pm

I might. Can't say I'm too interested in this sort of storyline, but knowing Karl, he'll probably force me into it one way or another.

Tombwarrior9 · **Posted:** February 15th, 2007, 4:10 pm

Evelyn · **Posted:** February 16th, 2007, 6:01 pm

I don't like writing, so I will just add a character, anyone can do whatever they want with him AS LONG AS HE GETS TO KILL COMMIES.

Name: Bob
Earthan Human
Age: 20
Gender: Male

Weapon of Choice: LC-210M5 Assault Rifle, native to his land, this automatic weapon was released in 2006, but it is still the most used firearm beacause it is cheap, powerful, fires fast, has a large clip, and small.

Occupation: Elite Militia leading commander of Blue Team Special Forces

Biography: As a small child he played lots of FPS. Later, he got more practice shooting after school. He would never kill anyone unless the person was a commie or if it was wartime. At age 19 he joined the Elite Militia and he moved up the ranks at an amazing fast rate. Currently, he is the Militia's best man.

However, I WILL write this:

For over 300 years, the Elite Militia has prevented numeroust terrorist plots ranging from bank robberies to nuclear threats. Their trick to being sucessful is to use terrorist tactics for good instead of evil. The Elite Militia is based in Sandrach, Irafor and they serve as the army for that country. Irafor is a country on the planet of Earthan, a planet where Earth had no contact of until just three years ago. With the latest technology, the Elite Milita can come to aid the Earth armies against the enemy who nuked the land of Quebec.

Color Claimed: DeepSkyBlue

Adbot · **Posted:** February 16th, 2007, 6:01 pm

Mushroom Queen · **Posted:** February 16th, 2007, 8:14 pm

Tombwarrior9 wrote:

Meh.

One word post = icky no-no.

Rune Beast0 · **Posted:** February 16th, 2007, 9:57 pm

Name: Thor Roriku

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Weapon of Choice: Either a silenced deadly laser gun he invented himself, called "Thor's Lightning", or a pulse rifle he created and personalized by using stolen New Government equipment.

Occupation: Assassin for the New Government, when he is not hunting down and killing, he researches new weapon technology.

Biography: When Thor was born, his parents lived in a homeless shelter. They were very poor and could barely afford to feed themselves and the baby. Thor's father was a truck driver before the company he worked for came very close to bankruptcy and laid him off. Thor's mother had worked in the home as a daycare provider, but now that they had no home, she too was jobless. Now, Thor's father was working many days in a row without rest and Thor rarely saw him. The Roriku family thought they would get out of these poor living conditions, but to no avail. One day, an armed squad of police officers from the came and arrested Thor's father for "plotting terrorism against the country of Norway". Because of this, and the fact that Thor, only 1 year old, would have to live on his own while his mother worked all day, the baby was taken and placed in a foster home.

As he grew, it was obvious to tell that Thor was troubled. He was also a brilliant child, and he skipped a grade. By the age of eighteen, he had graduated from a local community college. In his childhood he often was found tinkering with old weapons he found in junkyards and such. Once he was discovered shooting weapons at a target range that he snuck onto a bus to get to. Someone had spotted him, and seen how well he was doing, before realizing that the shooter was only about thirteen years old. The man called Thor's foster parents, and they came to pick him up. But he had managed to keep one of the pistols that he had repaired in a battered holster, and while the family car was moving, Thor shot his foster father in the foot and when the car went off the road, ran away. He was later found, 3 months later, living in a cardboard box in an alley. It was rumored that he had done shooting competitions to live, but it was never found out. What was true was the fact that Thor would never stay in the same place too long. His foster parents of 4 years decided they did not want him any more, and gave him away to his uncle.

Thor lived at his uncle's house for the next 5 years or so. While he was there he learned that his uncle was a New Government assassin. Soon, at the age of 18, before he left home to go to a real university, he confronted his uncle over his occupation. When Thor provided great evidence that the uncle was not all he seemed, his uncle admitted to it. Thor went to college and graduated in 4 years, majoring in weapon engineering and metalwork before returning to his uncle's house. He managed to persuade his uncle to teach him to be an assassin, and his training began. When he was 25, he had learned so much about being an assassin, along with his natural abilities, that he was easily the best marksman in the country. At this time, he chose to go to Canada. He joined the military and tried to find the reason of the bombing. Soon he was told that he was such a great marksman that the New Government wanted him to take down some gang leaders. He did so, and was accepted as an assassin.

Color: Darkred

MattVortex · **Posted:** February 17th, 2007, 7:05 pm

I have six characters. They're all survivors of the blast, who stayed in a bunker that had been abandoned by the military 5 years previous in favour of a larger bunker. It still works, though.

Again, Orangered.

Name: Matt Vortai
Age: 21
Occupation: Computer Programmer, Hacker
Weapon: Bow and a large number of nasty razer-bladed arrows
Mini-bio: A very talented computer programmer and white hat hacker. He works freelance, although is regarded as one of the best, and also donates a lot of him time to the open-source community.

Name: Charlotte Haeoi
Age: 21
Occupation: Doctor
Weapon: Normally a pacifist, although is a curiously good shot with handguns.
Mini-bio: She is one of the finest doctors around, just out of med school she knows all her stuff, and is working as a junior doctor, and very well.

Name: Ben Cimiti
Age: 20
Occupation: Works as one of the chief chip planners at Intel.
Weapon: A rather violent knife/dagger... although he apparently has some rather... shocking... weapons hidden up his sleeve.
Mini-bio: Even as a young boy, he had a fascination with electronics, making an EMP grenade at the age of just 12, and successfully using it, much to the annoyance of his school network admins, against their servers. He now helps Intel make some of their most advanced and powerful chips.

Name: Jason Cyaini
Age: 20
Occupation: Physicist
Weapon: If it's a device that goes bang, its probably in his *****... and he probably made it himself.
Mini-bio: He has always had an interest in the sciences and technology. While not as adept as Matt, he has a fair amount of programming ability.

Name: Ayca (pronounced Aye-cha) Marloi
Age: 20
Occupation: Translator.
Weapon: Well, there's often a samurai sword to her side, and sometimes a handgun, so I'd guess at those.
Mini-bio: She has always had a fascination for languages, and so took it upon herself to learn as many as she could. She speaks fluent French, German, Italian, Spanish, Swedish, Esperanto, Finnish, Norwegian, Russian, Canadian, Mandarin, Japanese and a few other wierd langauges that still reside in the depths of Africa.

Name: Emma Seroei
Age: 20
Occupation: Chemist
Weapon: Handguns.
Mini-bio: She has always been somewhat of an intellectual, although not it a really geeky way. She is a whiz with chemistry, though, and has helped make some rather potent substances for Jason's explosive devices, as well as some other concoctions of her own (including an acid bomb that creates an acid 20 quintillion times stronger than 100% concentrate sulphuric acid). The other five are always wary of her whenever there is a test tube in her hand.

For now, my characters are going to be somewhat seperate from everyone else, on account of them being inside 19 feet of concrete and lead, and the world outside them being a nuclear wasteland.

Karl 67 · **Posted:** February 22nd, 2007, 9:13 pm

OOC: Sorry I'm late. Half of me didn't expect replies in that time period and I was doing other stuff with the other half. Hopefully 5 days isn't considered a "week"

IC: The trek across the Rocky Mountains towards the Northern border of Alberta was uneventful. Everyone had rations and in Jakob's case, energy. They never met anyone.

The border was two miles ahead and the four finally stopped to rest. Even Jakob seemed to be panting, which showed the marines his more human-like capabilities.

"At this rate, we'll never get to our intended destination in time." Jakob calculated.

"What do you suppose we do then?" Radon asked.

"Take a plane to D.C." the pilot answered, "There's got to be an airport in Ft. McMurray, since it grew fast during 2006."

After a day of more running and the occasional rest, they made it to the city. It grew tenfold since the Athabasca Tar Sands discovery. Newfoundlanders looked at the four of them as they limped with fatigue towards the nearest airport.

When they got there, they saw a military fighter in the docking bay.

"Is that fighter being used?" Radon asked One of the crewmen.

"Nope." he answered.

"Can we use it then?"

"Heck no. You saw what happened to Quebec? I ain't letting a fighter get off the ground until that swarm is found."

The team argued that their priorities were more important than whatever the crewman could throw at them. They soon gave up on argueing and left. They sat outside on and around a bus bench. A bus soon arrived and they were about to take it. Jakob pulled them back.

"Sorry, wrong bus." he said coldly. The bus driver didn't mind at all.

"What the heck was that for?"

"I have a plan. and that military fighter is our only chance to get where we need to go..."

Evelyn · **Posted:** February 23rd, 2007, 4:22 pm

The transfer pod was small and stuffy, but becuase it was a brand new technology, the 500 or so militamen had to make do. They were arriving at the earth's atmosphere, they entered with slight turbulence and they landed somewhere off the coast of Oregon. Bob climbed out and inflated a large raft. Then he went back inside and came out with what looked like a jet engine. He hooked it to the back of the raft and did the same with five other rafts. Everybody loaded the rafts and got in. Soon they sped toward the coast.

Maybe I will write something.

Rune Beast0 · **Posted:** February 23rd, 2007, 5:18 pm

Thor paced the halls of the bomb shelter. Earlier, he had been given a message telling him to be here to meet someone who would give him a job, but the person was an hour late. Thor sighed and pulled out the plans for a new type of laser sniper rifle that could hit the head of a pin. As much as he tried, Thor could not find a way to shoot exactly the spot he wanted with this gun. The stubborn researchers told him that he should just keep trying. Sadly, if Thor couldn't use the new rifle for what it was designed, no ordinary person, or even an extraordinary person, could hit it either. He focused on one part of the gun that provided a brand new type of laser beam, one that was a navy blue color and struck with the velocity of a car moving at 70 mph. If he could move the generator a bit to the right, maybe he could improve the accuracy...

Suddenly, Thor snapped his head up at the sound of footsteps. He returned the plans to his jacket pocket and put his hand on the holster of his gun, as was a habit. A growling voice said, "I take it you are Roriku. Take your hand off the gun!" Thor obeyed the voice, and saw a man in a trenchcoat. At least, he sort of looked like a man. The limbs on his left side were gone, and his eyes were icy blue. The man spoke. "I am Robert Sergon. I heard that you could help me get rid of someone," Thor's heart accelerated. He nodded slowly. "I hope you are as good a sharpshooter as you say you are. Anyway, there is a large group of rebels near a group of militiamen. I need you to take out their 5 leaders without being seen, then return to me. They are trying to capture some men and a very special robot soldier named Jakob. You must protect them at all costs. I am going to assist you if anything goes wrong, but this is a dangerous operation. Are you in?" Thor looked at Sergon and nodded again. Sergon handed him a slip of paper, which he signed. "We move out in 3 hours. Ready your weapons."

Karl 67 · **Posted:** February 23rd, 2007, 7:59 pm

Jakob finished telling this plan to the other three. After thinking about the actual plan, they began wondering why the guy retired in his first life. Jakob took Marc with him while Radon and Jason separated. Jason went inside to try a second time at compromising. Radon went to the nearest restroom. Jakob looked around at the wall and noticed some weakness in the concrete wall.

"Get on my back." he said to Marc. The pilot obeyed. Jakob then slammed his fingers into the wall. After fastening the other hand in, he began climbing; slowly, but surely.

-----

Radon looked at the sinks and toilets that were available. He then attempted to break off one of the "cold" handles, he succeeded. He then jammed the thing into the door frame, acting as a lock. He then pulled out the blowtorch Jakob gave him during briefing and started torching off the largest ventilation shaft.

-----

Jason was literally causing a great distraction. No one noticed the slight sounds coming from the bathroom and outside. Security was soon called and he gave up arguing; He left. However, he walked to where Jakob and Marc were and made his way towards the hangar door, which was locked beyond breakage.

-----

Jakob and Marc searched for some vent shafts which let air pressure escape as the weather changed to keep the place cool.. or warm... whichever. They soon found one. Both of them opened it and entered, closing the grate behind them. They walked towards the fighter while trying not to make any noise. Marc's comm device chirped and Jason's voice came in.

"Guys, How's it going?"

Radon's voice picked up. "So far, so good. I welded the vent grate back in and I'm currently getting to the luggage shaft."

"We're getting towards out position with relative ease," Marc answered, "Jakob seems to have found the grate we're going through."

Jakob shushed Marc and fit his fingers in the grate. The sound was pretty normal, but the sound waves didn't make it to the workers below. Jakob then pulled out some utility rope and strapped it to Marc. The android lowered Marc towards the pilot door semi-quickly.

-----

Radon unsurprisingly found that the conveyor belts were unused. He crawled towards the way which he thought went straight to the loading bay. The trip itself was uneventful. None of the workers noticed him among the pile of unmoved luggage. The news seemed to have reached them an hour ago, as they were all starting to go.

He broke out in a controlled sprint towards one of the side doors which led to the launch bay. He let Jason in. The two of them then ran behind one of the landing wheels of the jet. It was large enough to hide an ox from the lobby.

-----

Marc spotted Radon and Jason get into position. Then he thumb-upped Jakob. Who nodded back and made sure Marc got in the jet. He let go of the rope and Marc caught the rest. Marc himself lowered the rope to let Jason and Radon into the jet. Now was the tough part... How was Jakob going to get down? Even though he's mechanical, a fall that far would damage his hydraulics and most certainly would raise the alarm.

Actually, the alarm was raised. One of the workers ratted on them. Marc swiftly got to the seat of the Jet. Jason got in the co-pilots seat. Radon slammed the door shut and got his rifle out.

Jakob told them to hold their ground for a moment. They did so. He then ran back to where he entered with Marc and got out of the shaft. He then told them to continue holding off.

Radon thought the best way was to get people off of the actual jet. He held his rifle in one hand and leaned himself out of random doors with the other. Suppressing fire kept the enemy off them. But they soon got military troops mobilized and were moving in.

"Attention all staff. Take arms, Intruders are trying to steal the F58 in Hangar Bay Alpha. Take them out!"

Jakob heard the announcement and panicked a bit. Pulling out a combat knife, He leaped off the roof. After falling a bit, He dug the knife into the door. Sparks flew as the knife itself was weakening. The fall was broken and he was within a safe range of falling.

However, the knife was stuck and possibly shattered. Jakob landed and broke out in a sprint towards the side door and pulled out his rifle. Complete pandemonium ensued as both the enemy, Radon, and Jakob were trying to not damage the precious jet, yet try to get each other away from themselves. Jakob found the switch to the hangar door while taking cover and threw it. The gate opened slowly as Radon took permanent cover and closed the door. Another door opened close to Jakob and the rope dropped within reach.

Jakob bounded for the rope as the enemy started trying to get it as well. Jakob fired upon the enemy that made their way towards the rope. Since hydraulics were always going to be better than human muscle, He got to the rope first. He was quickly pulled up as the jet itself started to pick up speed. Half of the enemy was wasted and they gave up on the chase. No human being is sane enough to try to catch up to a launching jet.

Especially the F58, which was codenamed the "MLM" meaning "Missile Launching Missile.

Jakob got inside and slammed the door solidly shut. The four of them whooped in fatigue, except for Marc, who was working the thing. They laughed and joked about the mission and the lack of experience the enemy troops had.

"Check the stuff this jet has, would ya?" Radon told Jason and Jakob after catching his breath.

"Affirmative." Jakob replied as the two of them moved towards the cabins. The fighter lurched as it left the ground. Radon sat in the co-pilot's seat and questioned Marc about the statistics of their speed, direction, and if they were detected and fired at yet. All of the answers satisfied him.

-----

Jakob and Jason found a bunch of old school weapons. There were a few revolvers, 45 Calibers, Uzis, MP7s, and a large crate of SCAR guns and ammunition. There were also a couple of frags and flash grenades. in other assorted crates. They also checked the ship's *****, which included a Smart Bomb, which was not loaded. Other than that, just the same ***** a small bomber would have. They returned with the infantry weapons in tow.

"A couple of Light weapons and a SCAR. All old school. Standard 2010 Issue F32 Equipment, Plus an unarmed Smart Bomb Developed in 2005." Jason reported.

"Excellent. We are currently en Route towards Military Base 491." Radon replied.

"That's where?" Jason asked.

"Marc here thinks it's in the Michigan region. After that, this thing will be out of fuel and We'll ahev to make the ret of the way by foot."

Jason and Jakob sat in the cabins. Jakob looked outside wondering things unknown and Jason checked his own *****, which now included one of the revolvers.

Tombwarrior9 · **Posted:** February 23rd, 2007, 9:05 pm

Alright, ladies, let's do this.

Dibs on red.

A shadowless figure stood in the blackness known as the old underground subway station that had been closed for years. The lights were off, yet this individual could perfectly find his way through here.

It used to be his home.

He got to the end of the standing area, sliding against the wall until he reached a door.

He bashed open the door, not at all caring if someone had been there at all.

In the room, attached to the 3 walls in front of him was a enormous computer set-up. The room was filled with dust. It hadn't been used in years.

The dust was off the keyboard in a second.

A few beeps and keyboard key clatters later...

Code:

//BASIC DATA

>Name: Vincent [last name disclosed]
>Age: 23
>Race: Human
>Alignment: Does whatever's good for him, but known to help people in need occasionally.
>Build: Fairly built.


>Eyes: Red-White
>Hair: Brown
>Skin: White
>Clothing: Wears a Grey sleeveless shirt, sometimes the shirt is red or black. Has very dark brown baggy cargo pants and has black boots. Carries around a Novak 1911 and Colt .357.
>Tattoos: Has 6 tattoos on his body, all six of them on his left and right arm, most of vintage flames.
>Scars: Rib stab. A local merc missed and the knife had to stay in.
>Height: 6’5
>Threat: Psychotic; Red; Terrorist
>Other accessories: Samsung YP-Z5.
 
>Used Weapons: Usually a Novak 1911 and Colt .357, but sometimes will grab at any pump gauge shotgun he can find, he likes messy gunfights.

>Fighting Style: If military training taught him anything, it’d be top-of-your-troop hand to hand combat.

Past:
>Reason for not trusting people: Jail taught him a lot about people, and one of those, never invest too much emotion into anyone.


>Personality: 
As the Media sees him: Psychotic, Twisted, Insane.
In Reality: Calm, laidback, procrastinator.

>Bounty Price: $1.2 Million.
>Felonies: Too many to count but....Arson, Damage: $5,000, November 27th, 2004

>Alternate Wear:
CTU Bulletproof Chest Armor

>Alternate Alias’:
Vincent
Vin

Evelyn · **Posted:** February 23rd, 2007, 9:31 pm

A long plane flight finally took the force to Canada, none of the troops were used to the slow Earth planes, unfortunately, the still had to make do. After a few minuts of driving across Canadian terreain, a frightened looking kid came out of the bushes. One of the troops tried to get out of the truck to talk to the kid, but Bob stopped him. Bob knew this trick; it was constantly used by the Northern Communists in the NCS conflict in 2007. Bob opened a box and took out a small handgun. He reached out of the truck and shot at the ground, and then drove backwards. He waited until a shower of blue and silver sparks shot from the ground. Then he and the rest of the force quickly drove through it. Bob looked back. He was right, a gang of some fifty people were behind the bushes, attempting to shoot thei energy-based weapons. The blue/silver charges disabled the guns. Bob, knew that most people would use energy weapons, so he came prepared. Bob's entire force was armed with projectile weapons, because most energy-gun armor was weak against traditional fire. Suddenly, a flash of light zoomed past his truck. Bob looked back once more; the gang's weapons were functioning again. He took out anoter small gun, bessed with some of the moving parts, put a small RPG on the barrel and pulled the trigger. The grenade shot out with amazing force and expluded a few meters from the gang. It didn't kill any of them, but It gave Bob and the rest of his force enough time to get out the gang's vicinity.