Atz

Joint roleplay on #XCAS, participants, yours truly and DragonHawk <COL_Cyriacus> Colonel Cyriacus checked the clock again. Cabeza had just left, but he was scheduled to meet with Evander soon... The office was still brightly lit, the sun pouring its light into the small and drab meeting room. The only thing with colour was the butt-ugly scenery paintings on the wall... Cyriacus stopped for a moment to assay their worth. <CPL_Evander> :: Steps up outside Cyriacus' office door and checks her wrist watch... she was on time, for once. She takes a breath and smoothens her uniform before she raps her knuckles against the door :: <COL_Cyriacus> Cursing lightly to himself, he murmurs, "Next time I'm leaving the door open." Out loud, he says, "Come in" As a habit, he straightens his uniform jacket somewhat, but notices no significant difference in appearance. <CPL_Evander> :: Opens the door and steps inside, closing it behind her... she snaps her heels together, and fires of a textbook salute. "Colonel, corporal Evander reporting according to orders, Sir" Her uniform is absolutely spotless, though it seems a bit tight, especially over the shoulders... most likely she'd buffed up a bit since she was issued it. :: <COL_Cyriacus> Cyriacus returns Evander's salute, then motions for her to take a seat. "Corporal Evander. How's your vacation been, thus far?" He seated himself as well. This time, he didn't have a file folder - he knew Evander's history, or at least as much as mattered to him. <CPL_Evander> :: Stands at ease and takes a seat "Quite well, Sir. I've been hiking with me old air force mates." she says, flashing a quick smile. :: <COL_Cyriacus> "Good, good. However, since I don't want to disrupt your vacation too much, let's get down to business. First off, are you interested in staying with the team?" <CPL_Evander> :: Shifts her eyes slightly to the left for a second before she looks back, nodding slightly "Yessir, absolutely Sir. I've still got a score to settle with ol' E-T... and from what I've heard the blokes'kk need a good pilot." <COL_Cyriacus> "Indeed, and we do." Cyriacus grinned. She is enthusiastic, at least, he thought. "However, having said that, I also have other concerns. Due to manpower issues, we've been evacuating shuttles so that the crew can participate in the ground mission, but now I think I can scrape together more personnel." Cyriacus hesitates, not sure how to bring the next part up. <CPL_Evander> :: Nods, having taken an inofficial course in Officer Managment from her old wing man in the RAF "Glad to hear it, Sir" she says, about as expressionate as a stone. <COL_Cyriacus> "This means that I have choices to make. You're an excellent pilot, Evander, and a good ground operative - hard combination to find anywhere." Cyriacus decides to just plunge right into the issue. "With the extra manpower, I no longer need my pilots to leave their shuttles. I don't want to waste your versatility though." >>> <COL_Cyriacus> "I'm expecting that we will be engaging in far more raiding in the future, to keep the enemy off-balance. I'm planning on having one pilot on the ground, to help coordinate air strikes and, if necessary, to steal alien craft. I want to make the war in Ascidia too expensive for the Aliens to maintain. >>> <COL_Cyriacus> >>> I've got another pilot who has volunteered to undertake this role, but her skills are not quite as profound as yours... You are the senior pilot though, and I'm willing to let you decide whether to join the ground crew as the naval ops coordinator, or whether to take full command of the assault shuttle..." Cyriacus coughs. "... which has yet to be assigned." <CPL_Evander> :: Hmms.. "So... basically, I fly in, leave the co-pilot in charge and go with the ground crew to bring the pain to the Aliens? And.. what exactly is the role of an "assault shuttle", Sir?" <COL_Cyriacus> Cyriacus sighed slightly. "The choice is whether to go in with the ground team, which means you will not be the primary pilot for the assault shuttle, or you will fulfill your prior role as assault shuttle pilot. The assault shuttle, essentially the... Well, it would have been the Avenger, but..." <CPL_Evander> :: Raises a brow "Sir, with all due respect... we can't use the Avanger as an assault craft after drop off... if it gets shot down, we'd be stuck... and, Sir, close air support with a lone craft.. and, frankly, the Avenger is about as manuverable as a hippo on slow speeds. I would gladly operate as a Naval Op Co, but in that case we need some kind of gunship or fighter bomber wing." <COL_Cyriacus> Cyriacus groaned inwardly. "The Avenger, as it was, is a reasonably good ship still. As you say though, it's a shuttle and not a dedicated ground attack vessel. Corporal Vonaire is the ground attack specialist, it will be his job to hit what needs to be hit." <CPL_Evander> :: Nods "Yessir... hmm, what are our current orders, Sir? Prep-date, shipping out, baggage allowance, that kind of things?" <COL_Cyriacus> Cyriacus nodded and made a mental note to contact the other pilot again. "Two days, we meet in the lobby at noon to be shipped out to one of X-Com's secret facilities... I'm not sure if I got my orders from a total joker. At any rate, you're allowed double the regulation allowance of personal items, not including uniforms and issued crap like that." <CPL_Evander> :: Smacks her tongue, looking at the ceiling. "Hmm.. Sir, will there be a search of personal artifacts for contraband? If so, what is considered contraband?" <COL_Cyriacus> "If you have to ask that question..." Cyriacus looked at Evander. Was she hiding something? "I don't want inappropriate items in your luggage, Atzel. The definition of contraband is subject to regs - no drugs, no child pornography. Those, as far as I know, are the obvious ones." <CPL_Evander> :: Raises a brow "...do you think I'd bring any of those two. No, I'm talking about my boombox, music collection... that kind of stuff. Just asking because I've been refused to bring such stuff before, Sir, its a called for question, innit, Sir? <CPL_Evander> :: Twists, her mouth slightly and mumbles "Ehm, that and some non-regulary equipment..." <COL_Cyriacus> Cyriacus grinned with relief. "Well, the boombox is not what I would define as contraband, just a weighty item. Bring it. Forward me the mass and volume, and I will make a note of your extra allowance. Don't go nuts with the music though, I don't want you taking up the entire hold. Non-reg equipment needs to be cleared as well... I don't care about piddling stuff, but if you've brought a pink motorcycle helmet to use on the ground.. <CPL_Evander> :: Bits her lip "Err.... just, ehm, a 12-gauge, Sir. Its better for CQC than the standard sidearm." <COL_Cyriacus> Cyriacus thought for a moment. Aliens were generally unarmed anyway - maybe getting more shotguns would be a good idea. "I may requisition some from Ascidian Special Ops, as I know they have an interesting one, but until then... Model, manufacturer, serial number, along with the boombox specs. Anything else I should know of?" <CPL_Evander> :: Thinks for a few seconds "No Sir, I don't think so, Sir." <COL_Cyriacus> "Good. If there is anything else, let me know." Cyriacus stood and offered Evander his hand. "Good to hear you're staying with us, Corporal. You've done some good work so far, and I expect more of the same in the future." <CPL_Evander> :: Quickly stands up herself and shakes his hand, smiling slightly "Thank you, Sir. I won't let ye down." <COL_Cyriacus> "Good, now scat back to your vacation, while I interview your teammates. See you in two days." <CPL_Evander> :: Fires off a quick salute "Sir, yes Sir"... she walks towards the door and adds "Good day, Sir" before she walks through it, closing it behind her"

YES! A MODDIFIED AIR WARRIOR! WITH CHAINGUNS! AND LAZERS! BRING IT TO ME! Hmmm Air warrior it is! Or a valkyrie. Maybe the valkyrie. Its more fighter like and we don't have enought troops to fill it with... so... In the immortal words of Ali G "Iz betta tha way, innit?"

JESUS! Don't tell me they've been hurting my little baby!

We need some joined roleplay on the forum. DH, do you think you could try to get something started, with a possible prelude to the next saga? I guess we could all wait, but... I don't think we have to heh On second note, I'm currently compiling an "X-COM trooper's handbook" for all those roleplayers out there who'd think they need some help with weapon & tactics realism. Malarkey out.

Very fair my man, very fair. I even learned some shit Heh, to be honest, I've giving half a mind to try to stay on the force. Its both a good life, and not quite decent work. 'Sides, chicks dig the uniform.

Heya dudes, dudettes... I'm getting a bit of a breather here in my otherwise wond up timetable of military stuff heh. I've found some old logs and trying to get the grasp of how to play my character again... and trying to figure out whats going on in the game. I see you've got a fighter squadron of Aegir fighters now... thats pretty funny, as a coincident, the ship I'm serving on is called HMS Aegir. Anyway, I'll try to get into the loop and catch the next sim. So long.

Atzel opened her eyes and imidiatly closed them against the bright light, letting lose a sulpher and brimstone salvo concerning the person who put the lights on and his bovine ancestory. After fumbling for a while for the light switch with her good arm, she managed to put the light out over her bed in the infermary. She opened her eyes again... and tried to open her left eye a secon time, only to find out that it was completly swollen shut. And after realising that her neck was too sore and stiff to move, she clears her throat and says with a coarse and dry voice, as loudly as she can "Hey... Doc Yorke, are you there? Doc?"

((OOC Post, but very much RPG related heh)) Heya guys, In order to make some kind of rpg post here, I think I need a log of last sim so I can get a fair idea what acctually happend heh. So, if anyone got one, please send it to extra underscore cool underscore gargy at hotmail.com. I guess you can figure out what I mean

I can color pictures... with the right tools that is. The right tools, or tool, rather is Photo Shop, so if anyone cares to send me a copy, I'd do it heheh

....well, not really, but you all know that those sale pitches are just fake Just a harmless little pin-up of my character Atzel, getting out of that uncomfortable X-Com uniform. This picture should be safe for all viewers to, well, view, but if you are extremly sensetive, or just dont want to expose yourself to my attempts of art... well, dont look, I guess. [admin note: I'm leaving the topic and the picture for now unless it gets out of control, but that quote was just way too out of character for our site, so it's deleted. The jury's still out on the rest.] Click the picy to enlarge http://home.quicknet.nl/qn/prive/npej.weijers/atzelthumb.jpg

"We have no use for you... yet. So I advice that you muster what strenghts you have and pray to your gods" were the words the Ascidian guard uttered when he bodily hurrled her into the small cell. Shw throughly wished she could have managed a better answer than "Uff! Ouuuh....", because his laughter taunted her as it disappeared down the corridor. She sat down on the narrow hard bed, ouch... her right leg hurt badly... she could barly stand on it... trying to take stock of her situation. The cell was tiny, even as cells go, barly 2.5x2 meters. The brick walls lacked windows and looked depressingly massive... aside from one brick next to the bed that looked... loose. She prodded it and it shifted easily, falling into... and other cell. And it was an empty one, at that. She sighed and sat down again. Most of her wounds had stopped bleeding by now, but she felt a bit wonky. Probebly a mix of all those drugs and slight bloodloss. And her clothes were a mess. Did they really have to tear them to stripes? Bastards. Well, nothing to do anything about. Might as well try to get some rest. She hadn't noticed how exhausted she were, but almost directly as her head hit the pillow, she fell into an uneasy sleep, were maniacly laughing ascidians in white robes hunted her with stunrods and scalpels.

The first half hour had been they yet most horrifying experiance in her life. Or the first ten minutes, or whatever it might had been. The pain increasing injections, the hot pokers, the barbed needles, the electric shocks... whatever they wanted from her, they had been sure to get it unless she had found It. The Trick. She didn't know what to call it yet, but until later it was the Trick. She couldn't describe how she did it, she had just suddenly stumbled over it, but it was as if she took everything that was she and put it in a dark void inside her body, shutting out the outside world. She could feel what her tormenters were doing to her but it didn't bother her. She felt at ease there, it spread a feeling of cozy warm darkness in her mind. After a while her tormentors decided that they needed a break and after giving her a doubel shot of that stuff that made it feel like her body was set on fire, they left. She tested her restraints... they were very solid. She looked up. "Hello Lt." she said, her voice dry and hoars... trying to focus on him, but it was hard since her right eye was pretty swollen. Even afterwards, she could not explain why she of all things added "You look just like I feel Ghost... how are ya holding up?"

Atzel blinks groggily and disorientedly as the two API members pulls her to her feet and starts dragging her towards one of the less subtel looking interogation devices... a simpel X shaped tabel. Realisation hit her like a jackhammer between the eyes. With a shriek and a stream of curses and insults she kicked furiusly, twisting and struggeling in her captors grip, managing to get a lucky hit one one of the "doctors", knocking the wind out of him. In the struggel, one of the guards put his hand over her face.. only to let out a suprised yell of pain as she bit down on one of his fingers... but he managed to pull lose and slapped her backhanded over the face, splitting her lip. Spitting a gob of blood in his face as a retort might have seemed like a very good idea at the time, but the punch in the stumach completely knocked the wind out of her and the guards could easily strap her down onto the tabel. "Urghhh" she moaned and coughed. Licking her bleeding lip she mumbles "Look... I dont know anything... I'm just a pilot. A private, at that." The Ascidians did not seem to be understanding... or listening, for that matter, their full concentration on the arrey of instruments next to the table, mercifully out of her sight. "Hear" she said, a bit stronger now as she had regained the full use of her lungs "I dont know anything that you dont already know, let me out of this thing!" The Ascidians kept on ignoring her. Either they didn't care or they didn't understand... eitherway it didnt make any sense. The white robed one picked up a curved bladed tool, very much alike a sickel. Atzel cried out, squeesing her eyes shut as he lunged at her with it... only to find that he had just cut her uniform open. The rest of the ascidians chuckled silently and chatted idly, as if they were discussing the outcome of yestedays ball game. The doctor took one of her firm pale breasts in his hand and said something to his companions, whom laughed heartily. Revoltion welled up inside of her from the creature's offeding touch, as well as anger. Where they making fun of her very anatomy? How dare they, the damn hairy monkeys... Her train of thought was brutally interupted as the creature drove his fist into the bodypart in question, sharp and hard, forcing her to bite her lip hard, making it bleed even more, not to cry out. The blond haired freaks laughed loudly at her as tears welled up in her eyes, both from pain and rage. The good doctor then picked up what to Atzel's horror was an instrument quite like a hacksaw and with a professional look on his face placed it against her collar bone, putting a hand on her shoulder to push it down. The first stroke just sliced the skin and Atzel grithed her teeth in pain. The second bit into the bone. Her agoniced cry split the silence like a ripsaw... her heels drumming against the table as her body twisted spasticly... but the straps holding her down made it impossible to move even an inch. By the tenth stroke, her plees for mercy had turned into nothing but a stream of gibbrish, mixed with sobs and cries of agony. By the time the toothed blade had cut through four quarters of the bone, the user jerked it free with a disappointed look on his face as his victim had fainted from the pain. (Yuck... I made myself sick writing that. I'm going to go have a lay down and think happy thoughts for a while )

With a slight giggel at the handsome x-com cadette's joke, Atzel took an other sip of wine from the crystal glas... she had forgotten his name, but he must be new, like herself. She looked around the redecorated messhall. Everyone was here. The commander, talking to the slightly strange glasses wearing man in the corner, Ong Ong,Cyriacus and Felche, frollicing with an slightly older, scarred gentleman, and .... Kacur. He seemed slighly distressed, but she had never seen him completly at ease, so she couldn't tell if something was wrong... but then he dropped to his knees and cried out in terror, she put her glass down and moved toward him as fast as her evening gown allowed her. "Lt. Kacur, are you alright, sir?"

*Can be found in the mess hall, carefully applying a sticker on barrel saying "Endangering species is our business! "*