HL2 Quotes Thread

Discussion in 'General Discussion' started by Officialjake, Dec 14, 2014.

  1. Cato

    Cato Zealot

    United States
    Jun 3, 2016
    Next time Ruffian don't be a spurg and scream rape at a civil protection unit WHILST off duty on one. No rape occurred here but 382 was temp banned, don't bring it up and nothing of the sort should happen.
    • Agree Agree x 3
  2. BMY871

    BMY871 Zealot

    United States
    Jul 9, 2016
    Hayley had a teddy bear. And then another one.
    Does she still have one?
    • Agree Agree x 1
  3. Doggo

    Doggo Legend

    Jul 2, 2015
    Accidents happen

    I swear 474 is a well-meaning guy
    • Optimistic Optimistic x 2
    • Agree Agree x 1
    • Funny Funny x 1
  4. Benji Dooble

    Benji Dooble Diamond in the rough

    United States
    Jun 1, 2015
    you dont think much do you
    • Agree Agree x 1
  5. Nat Attack

    Nat Attack Legend

    United States
    Dec 28, 2014
    kash killed johnny using weapon_cc_sawnoff
    William Jones: [OOC] HAHAHAHA
    Samuel Todd: [LOCAL-OOC] the fucks going on
    Antonio Russo: [OOC] dont fuck with my man
    Matthew Lambert: [OOC] u touch the boys u die
    William Jones: [LOCAL-OOC] IM fuckin dead
    johnny was killed by worldspawn
    johnny permabanned Matthew Lambert ().

    • Funny Funny x 2
  6. shotcopper 9000

    shotcopper 9000 Dead Soul

    Jan 18, 2015
    sum gud rp 2day thx friends

    ** Murielle Belrose's mostly done with her sorting, simply listening to the two before mumbling to Claire.
    Murielle Belrose: [WHISPER] How long have you known Harry?
    Claire Flannery: [WHISPER] Fair while, why?

    Aileanna Kerr: If thay dinnae waant th' meetin, then thay hae sealed thair fate. Mak' sure thay ken that, as na ither member o' command is aff tae offer this tae thaim. A'm th' yin wha pumpin' murdurred Gaff, anyway. Thay shuid wantae blether tae me, at least.
    Murielle Belrose: [WHISPER] Hmm-- he is just very comfortable with you.
    Claire Flannery: [WHISPER] Comfortable ain't the word I'd use.
    Claire Flannery: [WHISPER] Used to, maybe.

    Aileanna Kerr: Sorry, a'm havering. Juist... Dae whit ye kin, a'richt?
    ** Anastasya 'Ana' Kowalenka nodded along as the Scotsman spoke. "If you can get them to reconsider- I'm in your debt. They're good people, just angry is all."

    ** Claire Flannery turns her full attention down to her co-conspirator, and scrutinises her for a moment, chewing her lip.
    Claire Flannery: [WHISPER] You know he fancies you, yeah?
    Claire Flannery: [WHISPER] Like, well proper.

    Aileanna Kerr: Aye, Ah ken how come. Let's hawp ah kin fix this fankle.
    Claire Flannery: [WHISPER] I'd put me last twenty nicker on that being what he was blubbin' about, 'cept I ain't got none, 'cause, well- y'know.
    Anastasya 'Ana' Kowalenka: Fankle?
    Murielle Belrose: [WHISPER] Yes, unfortunately. I noticed it when he nearly killed himself trying to get flowers for me.
    (Claire Flannery) ** "Fuck-up," Jane interjects from across the room. **
    (Claire Flannery) ** Her ability to juggle conversations is really quite unsettling, actually. **
    ** Aileanna Kerr gives a few nods and steps towards the door. "Aye. Ah will be aroond. Let me ken."

    ** Murielle Belrose blinks, as if the interjection was at her.
    ** Anastasya 'Ana' Kowalenka steps towards the door, unlocking it for her. She holds it open for Kerr to make her leave.
    ** Aileanna Kerr takes her leave with a slight wave.

    ** Claire Flannery glanced over as she said it - she now returns the funny look. "What?"
    Murielle Belrose: Was- was that at me?

    [Ana leaves.]
    Claire Flannery: No, love, I was 'elpin' the Ukie out.
    Claire Flannery: She don't speak the lingo so good.
    Murielle Belrose: Oh- I see.
    Murielle Belrose: I was not listening.
    Claire Flannery: Mmph. Well anyhow, that's probably what his little drama was about.
    (Claire Flannery) ** "He ain't so good wiv people, much less people what 'ave tits," Jane explains, needlessly. **
    ** Murielle Belrose clears her throat, likely not used to the vuglar language. Jane's going to have a field day with her. "Well, that is one way of saying it." Murielle sets down the last shirt in its pile, no more left to be sorted.
    Murielle Belrose: He is pleasing to talk to when he is not blabbering to cut the air, so that is nice.
    ** Claire Flannery snorts. "Guessin' you ain't engaged him about politics, yet, then."
    ** Murielle Belrose chuckles. "Not quite yet. Although he went onto this large half a hour long rant about- Lord of the Rings, is it called?"
    (Claire Flannery) ** Sighing, Jane rolls her eyes. "Was it about whether Frodo likes it up the dirtbox?" **
    Murielle Belrose: Not.. of that flavorful language- but something of that accord, yes.
    Claire Flannery: Yeah. I copped that one an' all.
    (Murielle Belrose) ** Carlyn furrows her brows, one quirking up to Jane. "...And I thought politics were no longer, unless this is Civil Protection politics he is talking about." **
    Murielle Belrose: Although I am not sure why he would talk about that.
    ** Claire Flannery looks at her like she's just called Africa a country.
    Claire Flannery: 'Ere, what'd'you fink's goin' to 'appen once all this blows over? Once the Combine get turfed out?
    Claire Flannery: Place ain't just gonna fix itself, is it? We'll need to unfuck ourselves, fink about where we want to go as a world.
    Claire Flannery: Ain't that many of us left, yeah? And all the old baggage is gone, innit?
    Claire Flannery: Ain't no countries no more, is there? No classes, nuffink.
    (Claire Flannery) ** "Makes perfect sense to talk about politics," Jane concludes, as though it's the most natural thing in the world. **
    ** Murielle Belrose looks down, brows furrowed. Dread fills her features at the new thought. "Oh, dear- you are not wrong."
    Claire Flannery: Yeah, I know I ain't.
    Claire Flannery: 'S why I said it, innit?
    (Claire Flannery) ** "...Anyhow, that's what the rest of 'em," - she gestures vaguely towards the door, perhaps to mean 'FGC and that shower' - "like, they don't get it, do they?" **
    Claire Flannery: What use is them lot gonna be? Fuck all, that's what.
    Claire Flannery: We ain't 'even binned the Combine yet and they're already scrapping amongst 'emselves.
    Claire Flannery: Aint no ideology, neither, just petty bollocks. Like some poxy teenage drama, innit?
    Claire Flannery: Even, like, the big wigs. The ones wiv PhDs to their names, up the Forest and that. They ain't got no real designs on the future, other than 'bin the Combine'.
    Murielle Belrose: One step at a time, is it not?
    Claire Flannery: Well yeah, but I mean, that's all well and good now, innit? But it don't help none once the big day comes and no cunt knows woss goin' on.
    Claire Flannery: Fink about it. It'd be fuckin' chaos, yeah?
    (Claire Flannery) ** "Then every two-bit fuckin' psycho - like them lot," - she waves dismissively towards the door again - "will all start slottin' each other over who gets to be king shitter." **
    Claire Flannery: Bedlam, that's what it'll be.
    Claire Flannery: If the Combine can't undo us, sod it, y'know? We'll go fuckin' finish the job ourselves.
    (Murielle Belrose) ** Carlyn's expression is as if Jane just told her Santa Claus isn't real. "Well, it can not be that bad- can it?" **
    ** Murielle Belrose stutters over herself. "I- I am sure that White Forest will squander any unneccessary takeovers and-"
    ** Claire Flannery gives her a look as if she's just admitted that she still believes in Santa.
    Claire Flannery: Do we live on the same planet?
    Claire Flannery: Woss a bunch o' geriatric old geeks wiv degrees in theoretical physics gonna do about meatheads like the local shower?
    Claire Flannery: Half of White Forest can't find their arse wiv both 'ands, a copy o' Grey's anatomy, and step-by-step instructions. They do one fing, and one fing only.
    Murielle Belrose: ...'Bin the Combine'?
    Claire Flannery: Exactly.
    Claire Flannery: That's it. They ain't qualified to handle petty politics or all that.
    Claire Flannery: 'Ere, why'd'you fink they 'ave to farm other stuff out to us plebs?
    ** Murielle Belrose starts using her hands, pointing around. "Well, perhaps we could take any inspectors that are left over- and uh..."
    Murielle Belrose: Use...
    ** Murielle Belrose makes incoherent gestures, her brain frying.
    Claire Flannery: Use what? To do what? What kind o' government do you reckon suits best?
    Claire Flannery: Do we just keep what the Combine left, but cut out the fucked-up bits?
    Claire Flannery: Do we try rebuild everyfink the way it was, and 'ave two 'undred-odd countries wiv five people in 'em each?
    Claire Flannery: That's the fing, innit?
    Claire Flannery: If we don't start finkin' about it now, we're proper fucked the day we finally get rid o' the Combine.
    (Claire Flannery) ** "Whatever else he might be," Jane notes, "Harry ain't stupid." **
    Murielle Belrose: ...Perhaps I will speak to him about politics.
    ** Claire Flannery smirks. "If nuffink else, it'll keep the two of you occupied for a good couple of hours."
    Claire Flannery: Should stop him from gettin' all blubbery, too, mind.
    Murielle Belrose: That is a good idea.
    Murielle Belrose: Wait- hours?
    ** Claire Flannery nods. "Yeah, why?"
    Claire Flannery: Got somefink better to do?
    Claire Flannery: It's a big subject, innit? Can't just gloss over the future of humanity in five minutes.
    Murielle Belrose: I suppose.
    Murielle Belrose: Not really in a place to wander the city.
    (Claire Flannery) ** "Ain't nuffink worth seeing anyhow," Jane notes. "Fuckin' shithole." **
    Murielle Belrose: Well, it is not so bad.
    Claire Flannery: Love, I'm off a bloody council estate and I fink it's bad.
    Claire Flannery: It's a shithole.
    ** Claire Flannery's stomach gurgles ominously, and she frowns. "Them leftovers from yesterday still in the fridge?"
    Murielle Belrose: Ah, yes. Harry put them in there.
    Claire Flannery: Cosmic. You hungry?
    (Claire Flannery) ** She slithers off the footlocker, and heads for the kitchen. **
    Murielle Belrose: ...I can eat.
    ** Murielle Belrose stretches out her legs, standing up.
    Claire Flannery: You, like, don't 'ave no issues wiv hot foot, yeah?
    Claire Flannery: I fink I might do up a curry.
    Murielle Belrose: As long as it is not too hot...
    ** Claire Flannery frowns slightly. "Hmph. Maybe not then. 'Ere, how about I just do up a roast?"
    Claire Flannery: Should be enough left for that.
    Murielle Belrose: That sounds better.
    Murielle Belrose: Ah- do you need assistance?
    ** Claire Flannery shakes her head. "I'll sort it. You just... well, I dunno, do whatever."
    Murielle Belrose: ... I will- sit here, then.
    ** Murielle Belrose does just that.
    (Claire Flannery) ** Moving to the fridge and begins retrieving the necessaries, Jane talks as she works. "Harry reckons you've got a sort." **
    Murielle Belrose: Pardon?
    (Claire Flannery) ** Clang. The oven door opens, and Fletch slides out the rack. She begins arranging yesterday's surplus. "A fella." **
    Claire Flannery: Y'know, like, he finks you're taken.
    Murielle Belrose: I am taken, yes.
    Claire Flannery: Some Italian, yeah-
    Murielle Belrose: Yes. Joey.
    Claire Flannery: Don't know him, but I'd probably recognise him if I saw him.
    Murielle Belrose: You will notice him.
    ** Claire Flannery glances over, smirking. "Oh yeah?"
    Claire Flannery: One of those, is he?
    ** Murielle Belrose cracks a smirk, nodding. "Very."
    Murielle Belrose: Horrific taste in music though.
    Murielle Belrose: You will likely hear the Italian rap before you see him.
    Claire Flannery: Gor blimey.
    Claire Flannery: Italian rap? Don't fink I could even imagine such a fing.
    Claire Flannery: Like, it's one o' those that just... don't sound like it mixes.
    Murielle Belrose: Do not. It is terrible.
    ** Claire Flannery sets the oven to preheat, and begins digging around the kitchen for anything that might add some flavour.
    Murielle Belrose: Do you have someone, then?
    Claire Flannery: Yeah, I do. Tom.
    Claire Flannery: Known him for donkey's years, from back in Eighteen. We used to run wiv the same crowd.
    Claire Flannery: American, but I try not to 'old it against him.
    ** Claire Flannery winks, then returns to her search.
    ** Murielle Belrose scoffs. "I am not sure what is worse, American or Italian rap."
    Claire Flannery: Mmph. Tom ain't really into all that.
    Claire Flannery: The Doors are more his fing.
    Murielle Belrose: The Doors?
    ** Murielle Belrose squints at her.
    Claire Flannery: Yeah. Y'know, Jim Morrison's band.
    Claire Flannery: Well big back in the day.
    Claire Flannery: Riders On The Storm an' all that.
    Murielle Belrose: Oh- yes, that song. I know that one.
    (Claire Flannery) ** Having apparently found what she was looking for, Jane slaps the fridge door closed again and returns to her carefully-arranged giblets and sad vegetables. **
    Murielle Belrose: Giuseppe plays that one sometimes, that one I can listen to.
    Claire Flannery: Yeah, it goes alright. I don't mind it.
    ** Claire Flannery opens the oven door again, slides the rack back in, then bumps it shut with her hip. "How long you been wiv this Mediterranean mystery, then?"
    (Claire Flannery) ** She wanders over to lean against the doorframe. **
    Murielle Belrose: Last year. We met early summer and got quite acquainted with each other at the end of it.
    Murielle Belrose: Not quite as long as yours.
    ** Claire Flannery shrugs. "Oh, we'd known each other ages, just, like... never really come clean about it until a year or two ago."
    Claire Flannery: Proper awkward.
    Murielle Belrose: Did you hate his guts at first?
    Claire Flannery: Nah, not at all. I mean, like, at first we didn't really notice each other much, then it was just kind of, I s'pose, cordial-
    Claire Flannery: Eventually I realised I fancied him a bit, but I didn't fink he was into it, so I just kept stumm.
    Claire Flannery: Turns out the daft git was doin' the exact same.
    (Claire Flannery) ** "Ain't 'alf made up for lost time, mind you," she adds with a smirk. **
    ** Barry Lieve wanders in, rubbing his head. He groans.
    ** Murielle Belrose blinks. She stares at Claire, "Oh, my."
    ** Claire Flannery is leaning on the kitchen doorway, arms folded, casually chatting with the Frog. The smell from behind her suggests she's put some grub on.
    (Claire Flannery) ** Her eyes track over to Harry. "I 'eard you had another episode," she probes, trying not to smirk. **
    Barry Lieve: Is that food? I could eat... food.
    ** Barry Lieve says, vaguely.
    Barry Lieve: ...What?
    ** Claire Flannery mimes vomiting. Violently.
    Barry Lieve: I- that's what I-
    Claire Flannery: Lightweight.
    Claire Flannery: And yeah, it is.
    Barry Lieve: Wait- you mean after last night?
    Claire Flannery: Put a roast on, since this one don't do curry-
    ** Murielle Belrose waves lightly.
    Claire Flannery: I mean earlier. Before I got back in.
    ** Barry Lieve waves back, cheerily- he then lowers his hand suddenly, glancing away at top speed to address Claire with an expression of dread.
    Barry Lieve: Uh- I didn't puke earlier. I'm not a lightweight.
    Claire Flannery: My arse you ain't.
    Claire Flannery: I've seen you, Harry, you ain't pullin' that one on me.
    Murielle Belrose: You do not remember being over the toilet for half the night?
    Barry Lieve: Yeah, but like- I didn't puke. I just retched.
    Murielle Belrose: You were sobbing.
    ** Barry Lieve stares vaguely at the wall behind Jane.
    ** Claire Flannery tongues her cheek, trying very hard not to Elvis. It's a losing battle.
    Claire Flannery: ...And mumbling somefink, so I'm told.
    Barry Lieve: Mumbling- mumbling what?
    Murielle Belrose: After you left this morning?
    (Claire Flannery) ** "I wonder, Harry. I wonder," Jane prods, a light cackle escaping. **
    ** Barry Lieve pauses, staring off into the distance as though rewinding a kind of mental tape.
    (Claire Flannery) ** As far as Jane's cackles go, it's fairly dainty and reserved. Thank God. **
    (Barry Lieve) ** You can almost hear the whirr. **
    Murielle Belrose: ...You ran away after mumbling it?
    Barry Lieve: Wait-
    ** Barry Lieve pauses, scratching his chin.
    Barry Lieve: ...I'm really not remembering this.
    ** Murielle Belrose shrugs. "It is whatever. I did not hear you anyway."
    Barry Lieve: ...I do remember leaving this morning- but it is a blur.
    Murielle Belrose: What were you doing the whole day then, if you do not mind me asking.
    Barry Lieve: Work- work... things.
    ** Barry Lieve says, vaguely.
    Murielle Belrose: What things?
    Barry Lieve: ...Honestly, it's all kind of a vague blur. I've got an awful hangover still.
    ** Murielle Belrose waves it off, done picking at Harry. She sits herself up a bit. "Harry- do you mind if I ask you something?"
    Barry Lieve: Er- go for it?
    ** Barry Lieve has an expression of vague dread on his face.

    [I had to go AFK for a few minutes, so Jane darted off to the loo IC.]
    Murielle Belrose: What do you know of politics?
    Barry Lieve: Oh- I've read a fair few books on it.
    Barry Lieve: I uh- I don't know... much. Though.
    Murielle Belrose: What of how life will be after Combine are gone?
    Barry Lieve: ...I always thought communes would work.
    Barry Lieve: Like- you know how the camps in the outlands just do stuff as needed, divide up work and so on, without being paid?
    Murielle Belrose: Oui.
    Barry Lieve: Like- that, but with more... interconnectedness. Collaboration. No need to be secretive about it.
    Murielle Belrose: What of police?
    Barry Lieve: Community policing- think of it as a kind of social exile in the majority of cases, where people who act in ways that cause issues find themselves stigmatised by the community at large until they resolve the issue.
    (Barry Lieve) ** Harry's talking seems to be speeding up, as though he's getting more and more into talking. **
    Murielle Belrose: Like of how FGC handles the current people?
    ** Murielle Belrose is somehow able to keep up, crossing her arms.
    Barry Lieve: Well- more of a communal thing. If someone steals from someone else, everyone else basically refuses to deal with them until they try and make efforts to fix what they did.
    Barry Lieve: Rather than a top-down instruction to cut people out.
    Murielle Belrose: ...I see.
    Murielle Belrose: But what of world-wide? Surely people will not have the same idea.
    Barry Lieve: You mean exterior competition? Other groups trying to suppress it, and so on?
    Murielle Belrose: Yes.
    Barry Lieve: Because like- the idea is that the majority of the commune, except the vulnerable such as children and the elderly, like- they basically take up arms to defend it as needed.
    Barry Lieve: The way most of the groups we've dealt with do anyway.
    ** Claire Flannery reappears from the loo, where she's been for the past several minutes, and checks up on the oven.
    ** Barry Lieve is chattering away at this point, a happy look on his face. He's constantly adjusting his glasses where they keep slipping down his nose as he talks at full speed.
    Barry Lieve: So, like- worldwide? The idea is that ideas on the local are made democratically, through direct voting, yeah? So beyond that, those decisions are transferred up to the kind of... commune of communes level, and further organised there.
    Barry Lieve: Which commune needs what, who can produce what, and so on.
    (Claire Flannery) ** Apparently satisfied, Jane resumes her doorway perch and looks from Harry to Caroline. She gives the latter a wink and a sly grin. **
    Barry Lieve: And like- there's a whole load of ideas on how that'd be organised. Anarcho-Communists like Kropotkin say communes, anarcho-syndicalists like uh- like Durruti and a few others suggest organisation through radical trade-unionism, like uh- the historical CGT in France, or the CNT slash FAI in Spain- or even the IWW in the United States, and like- the idea is that workers democratically decide amongst themselves for specific factories on how to do things, who does what, and so on- and that goes up-
    ** Murielle Belrose stares at Harry, brows furrowed. She gives a few nods as he rambles, trying to decipher Harry Talk.
    Barry Lieve: -to the Union level, and is discussed between Unions at a like... congress kinda thing.
    ** Barry Lieve literally stops for a second there as he ran out of breath.
    Barry Lieve: ...Aaand basically, uh- there's a fair few disagreements and alternatives on the options for it, which'll be more evident when we've actually got the circumstances at hand to like... decide, you know?
    ** Claire Flannery looks well pleased with herself. "...As opposed to what we was discussing earlier," she directs at the girl.
    ** Murielle Belrose stares down to the ground again, nodding slow.
    Claire Flannery: Like, at least if we've got the basics laid out, the details can be worked out when we get there. Better than just going in blind.
    Barry Lieve: Pretty much- there's options laid out, but like... we'll have to see what works when we get to it.
    Murielle Belrose: Why not tell that to White Forest?
    Claire Flannery: We 'ave. The ones what're interested, anyhow. Mostly junior staff - y'know, proles like us lot.
    Claire Flannery: The techies and squaddies.
    Claire Flannery: The higher-ups are too busy worrying about quacks and brozons or whatever.
    Barry Lieve: ...Tau whatever.
    Barry Lieve: ...Magnussons.
    (Claire Flannery) ** RRRRRING! The timer on the oven kicks off, and Jane pushes off the doorframe to go tend to it. **
    Murielle Belrose: Well, I am sure that when it is over, they will be asking the question on what to do next.
    Barry Lieve: ...Hopefully.
    Murielle Belrose: I can imagine you hopping on that, Harry.
    Claire Flannery: Right. Like I said, mind, it don't do well leavin' it until the last minute.
    Claire Flannery: Besides, them technical sorts tend to be a bit... like, detached from reality. Politically-speaking, I mean.
    (Claire Flannery) ** "I mean, that's 'alf the reason the Cold War went on so long, innit?" she posits, using a tea towel as an ersatz oven glove and setting the rack on top of the stove. **
    Murielle Belrose: Which is why they will rely on the more poltically inclined, such as the people that you have mentioned and yourselves.
    Murielle Belrose: ...Do not know much of the Cold War, really.
    Claire Flannery: They let maffematicians and engineers run everyfink.
    Claire Flannery: People what ain't good wiv, well, anyfink what ain't numbers.
    Barry Lieve: ...My kind of like- historical knowledge stops somewhere around about... 1946 or so.
    Claire Flannery: No real grasp o' the world around 'em, in a human sense, y'know?
    Barry Lieve: ...Yeah, but like- I don't have much of a real grasp of anything, Jane.
    (Claire Flannery) ** She pokes her head around the door. "Believe me, Harry, you've got more than they do." **
    ** Barry Lieve looks... actually kind of concerned, at that.
    Claire Flannery: 'Ere, dinner's up.
    Claire Flannery: I'll let you dish up your own, I dunno how hungry you are.
    Barry Lieve: Er- what is it?
    Murielle Belrose: Roast.
    Claire Flannery: Roast... whatever we 'ad left in the fridge.
    Barry Lieve: ...I'm sure I put the gunk back in there after I woke up.
    (Claire Flannery) ** The bits of headcrab and sad vegetables don't look very appealing, but if nothing else, Jane is known for seasoning the living piss out of her food. **
    ** Murielle Belrose wobbles herself up, walking over.
    ** Barry Lieve digs a plate out from somewhere in the kitchen- and takes a moment to dig a neat cloth out of his pocket and scrub at it repeatedly for a moment, before dishing up.
    Barry Lieve: ...This isn't going to be like that one curry you made, right?
    (Claire Flannery) ** Chef Fletch plates herself up a relatively large portion. "No, 'cause I didn't want nobody 'avin' the two bob bits." **
    Barry Lieve: Eating those leftovers gave me a like... existential crisis.
    Claire Flannery: Not after you've already chucked all over the place. Twice.
    Barry Lieve: There's something not right about the contents of your stomach not staying there.
    ** Barry Lieve steps back, slowly digging into his food.
    (Claire Flannery) ** "You'd be the expert," Jane retorts, squeezing her way out of the tiny, crowded kitchen. **
    (Claire Flannery) ** She resumes her place on the footlocker. **
    Barry Lieve: It shouldn't move horizonally out of your stomach.

    ** Barry Lieve settles down on his footlocker, digging in.
    ** Murielle Belrose makes her own plate after scrubbing down the plate for some time, walking out with a decent portion. "Your stomach does not like it so it takes it out of you."
    ** Murielle Belrose sits down on the mattress on the floor, digging in as well.
    ** Claire Flannery's table manners are as repulsive as ever. Her cheeks bulge as she stuffs her face, and then chews loudly, mouth open.
    Claire Flannery: Mmph. Souldf use mor sal.
    Barry Lieve: ...Salt?
    (Claire Flannery) ** Gulp. "Yeah." **
    ** Barry Lieve is eating... worryingly fast. It's a bit like that trick with the knife between the fingers, except it's him not stabbing himself in the lip with a fork. He pauses occasionally to speak.
    Barry Lieve: ...I see what you mean. It's nice, though.
    ** Murielle Belrose's the only one to eat normally, staring at Jane with a worried look.
    (Claire Flannery) ** She's not deterred. She must be about six mouthfuls in to the girl's three. **
    (Jill Citizen) [EVENT] ** The streets are covered in slush from the previous night's snowfall. The temperature during the day had just been hot enough to start it melting before a freezing wind broke out around sunset. The result is a very serious lack of traction on any uncovered horizontal surface. Rocksalt hasn't yet been delivered to the district. The air frosts in front of your face; civil issue gear is sub-par to deal with the cold. **
    Claire Flannery: Gawn, eat up while it's still 'ot.
    Murielle Belrose: I- I am. I'm just.
    ** Murielle Belrose tries to eat a bit faster, unpleased with how unetiqutte it is.
    ** Claire Flannery stuffs a whole baby potato in her mouth. Or... it looks like a baby potato. Maybe. It's hard to tell, all the veg is the same shade of grey.
    ** Barry Lieve stares vaguely at the wall, still stuffing his face. It's confusing how he's so thin when he eats like this.
    ** Murielle Belrose finally catches Harry's habit, staring. She squints.
    ** Barry Lieve accidentally jabs the corner of his mouth, wincing- but continues absolutely unphased. It's really something to observe. He stops suddenly, having just... cleared the plate.
    (Claire Flannery) ** Jane wins the race, unsurprisingly. She belches loudly, pats her stomach, and wipes her mouth across her sleeve. **
    Claire Flannery: Not bad for leftovers, I s'pose.
    (Claire Flannery) ** She sets the plate down next to her, to be dealt with later, when she can be arsed. **
    (Murielle Belrose) ** The Frog still has a bit of hers left, she lost the race. **
    ** Barry Lieve leans over, putting his own down on the end of the empty bedframe to his left.
    (Murielle Belrose) ** Finally, she finishes hers, placing it to the side. "Harry- does your stomach hurt after you eat sometimes?" **
    Barry Lieve: ...Not really, no- why'd you ask?
    ** Barry Lieve stares at the kitchen, looking thoughtful.
    Murielle Belrose: You eat too fast.
    Murielle Belrose: It can give you a stomachache.
    Barry Lieve: We got anything lying about I could whip up as a snack, you think?
    ** Barry Lieve shakes his head slightly.
    Barry Lieve: Stupid question.
    Barry Lieve: Anyway, uh-
    Barry Lieve: I used to eat super slow, but like- that's not really the best thing as a militiaman on the move.
    Barry Lieve: So I just kind of... sped up.
    Murielle Belrose: Be careful with that.
    ** Murielle Belrose stumbles up, taking each of their plates to the kitchen.
    Barry Lieve: ...Hasn't killed me yet.
    Barry Lieve: I ate about six bags of wotsits in about five minutes when I was younger, once.
    (Claire Flannery) ** "Fanks," Jane calls over, lounging as much as is possible while sitting on the footlocker. **
    Barry Lieve: Oh- cheers.
    ** Barry Lieve pauses.
    Barry Lieve: ...You didn't have wotsits in France, did you?
    Murielle Belrose: The uh- cheddar cheese things?
    ** Barry Lieve pauses, looking thoughtful.
    Barry Lieve: ...They're like uh- puffy... cheese... dusty things.
    ** Barry Lieve says vaguely.
    Murielle Belrose: Yes, yes- uhh... did not have them often.
    Barry Lieve: Like- there were things like them in Toy Story- one of the Toy Story films.
    Murielle Belrose: I have not watched that.
    Barry Lieve: ...Fuck knows how I remember that, but like- it's this super tense memory of uh...
    ** Barry Lieve pauses, thinking.
    Claire Flannery: Cor, I couldn't 'alf go some Quavers, actually.
    Barry Lieve: ...This cowboy toy trying to creep over a floor full of wotsit things without stepping on any.
    Barry Lieve: ...Actually kind of gives me a feeling of dread and I have no idea why.
    ** Claire Flannery glances over. "In Sid's room?"
    ** Murielle Belrose peeks into the kitchen, leaving the dishes for later. She comes back, looking at the two with a concerned gaze.
    Barry Lieve: No, no- that toy repair guy.
    Barry Lieve: With all the lenses.
    Barry Lieve: Wait, no-
    Barry Lieve: It's the uh...
    Barry Lieve: Toy shop. Toy shop guy.
    Murielle Belrose: ...What?
    (Claire Flannery) ** "Was that from the second?" Jane asks, brow arched. "Don't remember s'much of it. Only saw it... twice, I fink?" **
    Barry Lieve: Al- Al's Toy Barn!
    ** Barry Lieve says suddenly, as if having an epiphany of some kind.
    Barry Lieve: The uh- the chicken-man!
    ** Barry Lieve says as though this holds some inherent meaning.
    Claire Flannery: Oh, the fat bloke? Wiv the glasses?
    Murielle Belrose: [WHISPER] ...Chicken man?
    Barry Lieve: Yeah!
    ** Claire Flannery squints. "Yeah, I remember now. In his flat."
    Barry Lieve: And he'd dropped a big bowl of uh- uh... cheesy puffs?
    Claire Flannery: Yeah, 'cause he fell asleep watchin' the telly!
    Barry Lieve: They're literally just wotsits though- and Woody's trying to get to him for something, and he has to climb over his stomach.
    Claire Flannery: He 'ad somefink in his pocket, didn't he?
    Claire Flannery: Was it his arm? Like, before the fixer bloke turned up?
    Murielle Belrose: Is Woody a toy?
    Barry Lieve: Yeah- and it was all frayed at one end, because it got torn off.
    Claire Flannery: Yeah, like, a cowboy doll.
    Barry Lieve: Like- with fluff poking out.
    Murielle Belrose: OH.
    Claire Flannery: One o' them old fashioned ones from, like, the fifties.
    Murielle Belrose: I thought you were talking about a miniature man.
    Barry Lieve: Yeah- he had a kind of string-pull that said 'There's a snake in my boot!'
    (Claire Flannery) ** "Somebody's poisoned the waterhole!" Jane adds, in her best Woody voice. **
    Murielle Belrose: Is he able to feel pain?
    Murielle Belrose: If so, would a string-pull hurt?
    ** Barry Lieve pauses, an unexplainable look flashing across his face for a moment.
    Barry Lieve: I-
    Claire Flannery: No, like, it-
    Claire Flannery: No. 'Cause it don't get yanked on that 'ard.
    Murielle Belrose: Still hurts if someone yanks on your arm not as hard.

    then @Nerdbird and @Owain6521 realised how late they'd stayed up discussing revolutionary political theory and the role of cheesy snacks in toy story 2 and disconnected, rip

    B O N U S

    ** Claire Flannery looks mildly offended at Linda's tone, but nods. "Once he gets started, it ain't 'alf 'ard to stop him. Even for me."
    Linda Lam: Tch.
    Claire Flannery: It's one o' them fings where he gets so caught up in it, he forgets he's talking to a bird he fancies.
    Linda Lam: Ain't spent a lot of time gaffin' with people, then.
    ** Hayley Frandza taps her fingers together, "Ain't... half hard? So it's easy? Or hard? I don't get that one..."
    Claire Flannery: It's 'ard, innit?
    Claire Flannery: If it ain't 'alf, it's well 'ard.
    Linda Lam: Yeah, proper.
    (Claire Flannery) ** "Simple," she concludes. **
    Hayley Frandza: But it could be not at all!
    Claire Flannery: Well it ain't!
    Hayley Frandza: I don't know! It's why I'm asking!
    Hayley Frandza: Oh... okay... I was just confused is all...
    Linda Lam: ...God, 's like tryin' t' explain ASBO to a Russian.


    view it as i do, a filter to keep shit non-roleplayers away

    and people who speak english as a second or third language but that's ACCEPTABLE COLLATERAL CASUALTIES

    • Funny Funny x 2
    • Friendly Friendly x 1
    #16006 shotcopper 9000, Jan 9, 2018
    Last edited: Jan 9, 2018
  7. David Heinrich

    United States
    May 20, 2011
    Phonetic accents are neat, because it's always weird to find out that characters sound completely and utterly different from what I pictured them to. That said, if you play it up hard, it gets kinda difficult to read to say the least. I like them, but I can at least kind of understand some people, especially semi new RPers, looking at them a bit leery eyed.
  8. BMY871

    BMY871 Zealot

    United States
    Jul 9, 2016
    I personally won't mess with things like vowels because they can be read and said in so many ways and they're so common and it would just be confusing and hard. I just have a note of the character's accent in the description. Nuances that break standard dialect and are easy to understand are great, though. "Innit somefin" instead of "isn't it something," that's the sort of thing I like to read. It turns text into dialog.
  9. Skippy

    Skippy Respected member.

    United States
    Aug 27, 2011
    Jesus man I wanted to rp more with this character too...
    • Friendly Friendly x 2
  10. Doggo

    Doggo Legend

    Jul 2, 2015
    474 couldn't deal with 2 of you :/
    • Agree Agree x 2
  11. David Heinrich

    United States
    May 20, 2011
    If you really wanna piss people the fuck off, start doing Cormac McCarthy style dialogue exclusively through /it
    • Funny Funny x 2
  12. Fuzzy Wolfy

    Fuzzy Wolfy The 'good' cop

    Jun 24, 2013
    [RADIO] CCA.C17-VICE.04.80008: **Urban negro music is damn near reporting over the sound of 800 on the radio** Jesus, auh-.. jus' a disturbance report. Gon'a check it out.
    • Funny Funny x 2
    • Winner Winner x 1
    • Dumb Dumb x 1
  13. Horten-229

    Horten-229 Zealot

    United States
    Apr 22, 2017
    Gabriel Kim: Nice hammer.
    ** Curtis O'Hare turned towards 727, "Hammering some nails?"
    Aiden Miller: You normally carry a hammer around like that?
    Milo Callahan: [YELL] Hey, VICE! Tell 'em about the hammer!
    CCA.C17-VICE.04.72730: This is my hammer. My trusty friend. He's seen many heads.
    Martí Moreu: Why do you have a hammer, exactly?
    CCA.C17-VICE.04.95171: I have not seen you put that hammer down even once today.
    Julian Harvey: [LOCAL-OOC] hammer me daddy
    Roxanne Roller: Nice hammer.
    ** CCA.C17-VICE.02.47548 glances over to the 04. "You gonna show them the hammer?"
    CCA.C17-VICE.02.94061: Is there-
    CCA.C17-VICE.02.94061: A reason...
    CCA.C17-JURY.02.60943: For?
    CCA.C17-VICE.02.94061: You're holding a hammer.
    CCA.C17-JURY.02.60943: Oh', don't mind him.
    CCA.C17-VICE.02.94061: Instead of a firearm.
    CCA.C17-JURY.02.60943: He prefers the hammer apparently.
    CCA.C17-JURY.04.42067: They giving us hammers now?
    CCA.C17-VICE.04.86242: ...Why do you have a hammer?
    CCA.C17-JURY.04.01313: What the fuck are you doing with that hammer?

    CCA.C17-VICE.01.47673: Hey.
    CCA.C17-VICE.02.47548: 727, I got a question.
    CCA.C17-VICE.04.72730: Hm.
    CCA.C17-VICE.02.47548: Why do you always have that hammer?
    CCA.C17-VICE.03.84193: Because he fucks shit up with it.
    CCA.C17-VICE.04.72730: I'm always prepared.
    CCA.C17-VICE.02.47548: For what?
    CCA.C17-VICE.02.47548: What is a hammer gonna let you be ready for?
    CCA.C17-VICE.04.72730: [WHISPER] Everything. Including emergency construction.

    (CCA.C17-RcT.18843) ** "Don't ask me, sir," the recruit replied. "I'm fitting in alright, but some of the others seem a little.." He paused, looking down at his matte black jackboots. "You know what I mean?" **
    CCA.C17-JURY.01.08787: It's always takin' people in. Don't you worry, we can do a quick patrol n'then I can start lessons now, if ya' want.
    (CCA.C17-VICE.03.84193) ** "Yeah, ah.. Don't call me sir, please." 841 nods. "I get what you mean, though." **
    CCA.C17-VICE.04.72730: Consider VICE. We're the best.
    ** CCA.C17-VICE.03.84193 looks over at 727. "Oh boy."
    (CCA.C17-RcT.18843) ** "I was considering VICE, actually," he responded. "I've spent most of my time with VICE boots. Good people." **
    CCA.C17-VICE.03.84193: Fuck yeah we are.
    CCA.C17-VICE.03.84193: Plus- 727's got a hammer.
    CCA.C17-VICE.03.84193: Can't go wrong with a fuckin' hammer.
    CCA.C17-RcT.18843: That right?
    ** CCA.C17-VICE.04.72730 poses with the hammer.

    CCA.C17-VICE.04.72730: Don't make me whip my fuckin' hammer 'round the air and hit all y'all mofucka's at once.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: You bringin' a hammer to a gun fight, boss?
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: Hammerboy.

    ** Victoria Denholm winces slightly, setting up a few clamps as the gunshots break loose.
    ** CCA.C17-VICE.04.72730 whips out the hammer. It doesn't need reloading.
    [RADIO] CCA.C17-VICE.03.92131: I got units beatin' zombies with a hammer and refusing ta' pull out.
    CCA.C17-JURY.02.60943: What's the situation?
    CCA.C17-VICE.03.92131: Morons beatin' them with hammers.
    CCA.C17-VICE.03.92131: Fuck knows.
    CCA.C17-JURY.02.60943: Who?
    CCA.C17-JURY.02.60943: What?
    CCA.C17-VICE.04.72730: To clear out the infestation. There's still people trapped in the block.
    CCA.C17-VICE.03.92131: 727.
    CCA.C17-VICE.04.72730: Hm.
    CCA.C17-JURY.02.60943: Are you fuckin'-
    CCA.C17-JURY.02.60943: Why are you beatin' 'em with hammers?
    ** CCA.C17-VICE.04.02472 waved over towards Travis, calling out towards him. "Hey, come on in! Don't be shy!" Her loud vocoded voice, emitting tons of static which echoed the halls! Probably alerting more nectrotics.
    CCA.C17-VICE.04.72730: Hammer don't need ammo.

    [​IMG] [​IMG]
    • Funny Funny x 8
    • Winner Winner x 2
    • Informative Informative x 2
  14. passyer

    passyer New Blood

    Dec 21, 2011
    ** CCA.C17-RcT.32159 sized up Claire from behind, giving her the ol' pat-down. He's extra careful to be extra chivalric.

    ** CCA.C17-RcT.32159 shimmies Lamways for the treatment.

    ** Linda Lam's just as simple. Wallet with ID, pocket lint, occupied keyfob. Her trump card is tucked away somewhere safe, unless 321's the kind of guy to cop a good feel around the back.

    ** CCA.C17-RcT.32159 stares down Lam's back. Luckily, she's dealing with a knight in kevlar. Nothing too obtrusive, in the pat-up-and-down.

    [PM from Claire Flannery] later, in cch-a: "Fuckin' gormless tosspot didn't even 'ave the bloody courtesy to feel me up. I mean, woss the fackin' point?"
    • Funny Funny x 4
    • Agree Agree x 1
  15. nec

    nec lemondog

    Apr 24, 2013
    • Funny Funny x 34
  16. Benji Dooble

    Benji Dooble Diamond in the rough

    United States
    Jun 1, 2015
    • Funny Funny x 3
  17. Fuzzy Wolfy

    Fuzzy Wolfy The 'good' cop

    Jun 24, 2013
    Mark 'The Bear' Slavdiya: Hello friend!
    Mark 'The Bear' Slavdiya: I would like to enter and see the leader of the city now.
    ** CCA.C17-JURY.SqL.20002 simply glares down at the man, "S' at so?"
    Mark 'The Bear' Slavdiya: Yes.
    CCA.C17-JURY.SqL.20002: Why's that?
    ** Mark 'The Bear' Slavdiya steps up the stair, and is easily half a foot taller than you
    Mark 'The Bear' Slavdiya: I wish to talk to him about my daughter.
    ** CCA.C17-JURY.SqL.20002's arms fold themselves across her chest, her featureless mask unchanging as it remains fixated onto Mark. "Don't think I can let y' do that, m' man."
    Mark 'The Bear' Slavdiya: Why not.
    CCA.C17-JURY.SqL.20002: You ain't on the list.

    Take me to your leader
    • Funny Funny x 8
  18. _Vintricus

    _Vintricus Legend

    United States
    Jan 24, 2016
    • Funny Funny x 3
  19. Patriot

    Patriot Zealot

    United States
    Sep 23, 2015
    ** The recruit came into the room. "Rise and shine," he said to this one. It seemed as if his technique of greeting detainees was always the same. **
    ** Blake Oliver turned over on the small bench that had served as his bed for the night. It most definitely wasn't a good one because there are visible bags under his eyes. "Mornin' officer."
    ** Seeing Ollie mustn't had been good for the young officer of Union law. Instead of saying anything, he stood there just about as dumb as you could expect a dumbfounded person to look, though he was kitted so it was hard to tell much. "On your feet," he said, voice plain once more, devoid of that human quality we all knew and loved before the Combine came: sympathy. **
    ** Blake Oliver's rubs the crust out from the corner of his eyes before complying with the order. His legs come swinging down to the cold hard cell floor. He gives off a long winded yawn as he finally comes to a standing position.
    ** CCA.C17-RcT.18843 jerked his head to the door. "Let's go, man," he murmered.
    ** Blake Oliver follows close behind the unit.
    ** CCA.C17-RcT.18843 turned back in the doorway. "You tied up?"
    ** Blake Oliver raises his cuffed hands in the air for the recruit to see.
    ** CCA.C17-RcT.18843 nodded once. "Thanks," he said, losing his formality. "How you been?" the recruit started, talking as if he hadn't seen Oliver in some time.
    Blake Oliver: Good as can be given where I'm at.
    ** CCA.C17-RcT.18843 prodded Oliver further into the room.
    ** Blake Oliver's eyes bounce back and forth between the unit and Pat.
    ** Pat was seated at the desk. His hands were within his massive coat pockets, and his face was plastered with worry. His bottom lip quivered slightly as his eyes met with Blakes. **
    Patrick O'Keefe: They want us to sit.
    ** Blake Oliver plops down onto the small chair opposite from Pat, and rests his bound hands onto the tabletop. His focus still isn't all there, bouncing back and forth between the unit and his friend. He seems confused.
    Patrick O'Keefe: I'm, okay. I, ahh, they told me that, ahh, I have to do this. For our, ahh, freedom.
    Blake Oliver: Paddy, what're they makin' ya' do?
    Patrick O'Keefe: I'm going to, ahh. Ask-you, some, uhh, questions. Okay? They uhh, they told me. They told me if, we both do good, we can leave. Okay?
    ** His face was riddled with worry. He kept straight eye-contact with his counter-part, breathing slowly and softly. **
    ** Blake Oliver is hit with a wave of dread. He shifts in his chair uneasily. "Okay, Paddy."
    Patrick O'Keefe: Alright. I'm, I'm sorry. We can do this, though. Okay? We're going to.
    Patrick O'Keefe: I ahh, I have to start with, ahh, with the basics.
    Blake Oliver: Ya' ain't gotta be sorry, just go ahead.
    ** "Should I step outside.." the recruit paused. "..Sir?" ** The unit was subsequently waved off by his superior.
    ** Pat turned, but, before the guy could say anything, he was gone. He looked down at the table for a moment, sighing gently to himself. **
    Patrick O'Keefe: They ahh... they need your, name. And CID.
    Blake Oliver: They know my name. It's Blake Oliver n' my CIDs, Eight-Six-Fo'-Fitty.
    ** He shook his head again, facing his friend once more eye-to-eye. **
    Patrick O'Keefe: Alright, Blake. What, uhh, what's, your role? In, ahh', the grand scheme, of...
    ** Pat looked down to his lap now, with his left hand moving from out of his pocket. To Blake's eye, he'd see a paper with some writings on it. **
    ** Blake Oliver grinded at his own teeth incessantly as Pat spoke to him.
    Patrick O'Keefe: The grand scheme of the rebellion.
    ** Blake Oliver glanced around the room, scouring the ceilings, corners and walls with his eyes. "My role in the resistance?" He pauses for sometime. His gaze falls once again onto the boy across from and he replies "My work's that o' an insurgent, just like the rest o' 'em."
    ** He nodded to himself, looking up from the list and back to Blake. **
    Patrick O'Keefe: Ahh, what was your, relation, to, uhh... the men we were caught with.
    ** He nodded to himself again, reading off his lines as correctly as possible. **
    ** Blake Oliver shifts in his seat, trying his best to get comfortable physically despite how uncomfortable the situation is for him mentally. "They was- well they're colleagues o' ours."
    ** Pat shifted in his, as well. His hand returned to its pocket, list included. **
    Patrick O'Keefe: What is the ahh...
    Patrick O'Keefe: Warehouse U. Mean, uhh, to you?
    Blake Oliver: Place o' work, spent my days there.
    Patrick O'Keefe: It, uhh, it said under the, uhh, question. To ask. What goes on there.
    ** Pat leaned in closely. His chin beckoned Blake to come in. **
    ** Blake Oliver scooched the chair forward. It scraped against the floor, replacing the silence that had come over the room with an obnoxious screech.
    Patrick O'Keefe: [WHISPER] I... I think they know, everything.
    Patrick O'Keefe: [WHISPER] They, ahh, they... they have questions, asking what... what anti-civil activity goes on. In the, uhh, in the warehouse.
    ** Blake Oliver gave a subtle yet pained not to Patrick then leaned back in his chair. He's still feeling confident that they both can get away with this. "The warehouse's a place fo' supplies. That's all."
    ** Pat leaned backwards. **
    Patrick O'Keefe: Okay.
    Patrick O'Keefe: Ahh, do you, ahh, know. Who orchestrated the riots, in, ahh, sector 6?
    Blake Oliver: Johnathan Lombardi orchestrated 'em, owner o' Warehouse U.
    Patrick O'Keefe: Why, uhh, why were they, done?
    Blake Oliver: To trash the place.
    Patrick O'Keefe: Okay. We're, we're almost finished, Blake.
    ** Pat nodded in a slow manner, releasing a deep breath. The oddness of this entire scene was finally getting to him as his eye-contact broke with Blake once more. He eyed his end of the table for a moment. **
    ** Blake Oliver doesn't seem to keen on continuing eye-contact either since he's turned his attention over to the still closed door in the corner of the room.
    Patrick O'Keefe: I'm, I'm sorry. They-they made me, say that.
    ** Blake Oliver snaps back over to Pat. The man places his hand out to the center of the table. He speaks to his peer in a near whisper. "It's goin' to be okay, Paddy."
    ** Pat gave a small nod to himself once more, and released another deep sigh to himself. It was a pained one. **
    Patrick O'Keefe: I, ahh, god... I, I wasn't, ahh... I wasn't, supposed to-...
    ** He took a shaky breath in this time, and exhaled it with an equal amount of tremor. Pat stood up slowly, a frown now strewn across his face. **
    Patrick O'Keefe: I'm, Blake. I, ahh... I'm, I'm sorry.
    Blake Oliver: Don't be sorry. Ya' gettin' to home, it'll be fine.
    ** He maintained eye-contact with him for now. **
    Patrick O'Keefe: I... I'm, I have, I have orders. From, my superior.
    Blake Oliver: I know it's not you that's doin' this.
    ** He relinquished his left hand from his coat pocket, reaching inwards and fishing through the insides of it now. Something was, deeply, deeply the matter. **
    Patrick O'Keefe: It... it is, Blake.
    (Blake Oliver) ** A tear rolls down the side of Blake's cheek. "No, no, no. It ain't wrong. It's goin' to be fine, Paddy." **
    ** A PDA was withdrawn from his coat. INSEC standard issue. He placed it on the table, tapping it once with his gloved index. **
    ** Blake Oliver's jaw drops open, and his eyes widen. He can't even formulate a coherent sentence. "I-uh-wha-ma.."
    ** With the continuous frown now strewn across his face, Paddy's right hand now relinquished itself from it's pocket. A gun was in his hand. A plain old Russian one, no markings or engravings. He maintained a now wobbly eye-contact with Blake. **
    ** Paddy was, even in the act of betrayal, still the same kid he'd always been.**
    ** And when he spoke, his usual speech problems were completely gone. The visage that he had been portraying to the outside world was gone, for just a moment. **
    ** Blake Oliver pants like a dog, trying to make sense of the situation. All the while more tears stream down his dark caramel-colored cheeks.
    Patrick O'Keefe: I'm sorry, Blake. We were friends. I considered us friends. I promise.
    Blake Oliver: Don't be sorry, Paddy...
    Patrick O'Keefe: Do you have any personal belongings that you'd want to pass on, Blake?
    ** Blake Oliver grips his necklace tighly then brings it up the light. It has two identical silver rings hanging from it. There's an inscription on both of them that. It's the letters A+B encircled by a heart. "This, I need ya' to pass this on give it to Ari. She'd always been like a sister to me."
    Patrick O'Keefe: I understand. It will be delivered promptly.
    ** Pat nodded to himself slowly, once again. It was obviously some sort of tic that Pat naturally had. The Makarov was raised rather slowly, and aimed at Blakes forehead. **
    Blake Oliver: Thank ya'.
    Patrick O'Keefe: I'm sorry, Blake. Do you want to be cremated?
    ** Blake Oliver's head hangs low and his tears drop to the floor. He's defeated. "Leave my body under Sector fo'. I fought there n' shoulda died there 'fore it had to come to this."
    Patrick O'Keefe: I understand. Your request will be met.
    ** Blake Oliver mutters something under his breath.
    Patrick O'Keefe: I'm sorry, friend.
    Blake Oliver: Au revoir.
    ** And those were the last words exchanged between the two young men. Pat's index finger pulled backwards on the trigger, until a lone bullet was fired. It met it's target within a split-second, piercing through one end, retrieving Blake's life, and coming out the other end with it. The echo of the shot reverberated in the chamber for a moment. Blood spattered the wall behind Blake. The negro goes limp and his face hits the top of the metal desk with a thud. This lil rockstar's fallen asleep before Brooklyn. **
    // Blake has been my main char at TnB since I joined up, and it's been an amazing ride over these past 3/4ish years. All the different things that molded him over his time in City 17 good and bad alike made him my favorite. It was most fun to see the cause and effect within his story, yet now that it's all over I can explore my other characters more deeply.
    • Friendly Friendly x 9
    • :( :( x 3
    • Winner Winner x 3
    • Funny Funny x 2
    #16019 Patriot, Jan 11, 2018
    Last edited: Jan 11, 2018
  20. Bumble

    Bumble Senior Member

    United States
    Jul 8, 2016
    [PM from Aileanna Kerr] no
    [PM from Roma Petrovski] hey many im looking for john
    [PM from Gavin McLeod] hi
    [PM from Xavier Long] is this john longabaugh
    [PM from Gavin McLeod] is this johnathan
    [PM from CCA.C17-RcT.10959] Hi john :D
    [PM from Miles Nelson] erp?
    [PM from Miles Nelson] oops wrong person
    • Funny Funny x 6
    • Winner Winner x 1
  21. passyer

    passyer New Blood

    Dec 21, 2011
    CCA.C17-RcT.32159: Citizen.
    Fast Headcrab: Yes officer?
    CCA.C17-RcT.32159: Amputate.
    Fast Headcrab: OH GOD NO.
    • Winner Winner x 3
  22. Wizard

    Wizard Actually a wizard.

    United States
    Jul 12, 2015
    CCA.C17-RcT.47498: https://youtu. be/1c06xOF4uQ8
    CCA.C17-RcT.47498: [LOCAL-OOC] hmm
    CCA.C17-RcT.47498: [LOCAL-OOC] HAHHAHA

    • Agree Agree x 1
    • Bad Spelling Bad Spelling x 1
  23. Nerdbird

    Nerdbird Educated Avian

    United States
    May 24, 2016
    6:38 PM - Doggo My Name:
    6:38 PM - 86 2k18: IVE ACTUALLY WATCHED THIS
    6:39 PM - 86 2k18: this chicken got frozen solid and the owner was so scared that it died but then they brought it in and it dethawed
    6:39 PM - 86 2k18: and they named it valerie
    6:39 PM - Doggo My Name: no wonder you have brain damage
    6:55 PM - 86 2k18: fuc k off
    • Funny Funny x 6
    • Zing Zing x 1
  24. BMY871

    BMY871 Zealot

    United States
    Jul 9, 2016
    I sign this
  25. justcallmeipod

    United States
    May 29, 2016
    Benji Yoshikawa: Well, then you gotta ask if they have a penis.
    Benji Yoshikawa: Or a vagina.
    Gazi Rais: I'm in the wrong bar.
    • Agree Agree x 1
    • Useful Useful x 1
  26. Mox

    RR Moderator

    Nov 30, 2015
    Old logs of some old dogs.

    (Nguy Lan) ** Nguy's apparently keen on watching the two interact. He's still quiet. **
    ** Ferdinand Constanza airs a vice grip to slot the glass as it slides back in her direction. She doesn't give it time for a prayer as she downs it in a few seconds flat.
    Sally Davies: Nice.
    Ferdinand Constanza: Now that I takin' a drink of it, what kinda stomach corroding pisswater did I just embowel?
    ** Sally Davies runs a hand through her hair, with the cigarette-holding hand. Probably not safe, but she doesn't light herself on fire. She grins at Constanza's question. "I think it's bourbon. I borrowed it from a nice little bar in a different precinct."
    Sally Davies: Maybe iodine.
    Sally Davies: They smell the same.
    Ferdinand Constanza: Borrowed it, eh? Free is a good price, I hear.
    Sally Davies: Always.
    Ferdinand Constanza: Bars are ripe for theft, too. Usually the staff's too out of their goddamn mind to keep an eye on the stock.
    Sally Davies: Mm.
    Sally Davies: I left a few credits on the counter, though.
    Sally Davies: So I guess I didn't steal it.
    Ferdinand Constanza: Suppose
    Sally Davies: The owner was a nice guy.
    Sally Davies: He was old.
    Ferdinand Constanza: Old folk never done me any good 'cept tell me how to live my damn life, so I guess I don't share your sympathy for the geezers.
    Sally Davies: Not all old people are nice.
    Ferdinand Constanza: Got that right.
    ** Ferdinand Constanza elbows Nguy in a teasing jest.
    Ferdinand Constanza: Ain' that right, old guy?
    (Nguy Lan) ** Lan's still quiet. It appears he's phased out of reality; smoke tumbles around his face. He's content watching tendrils drift around him until Ferdinand messes with him. "Huh?" **
    Nguy Lan: Yeah, uh-huh.
    Sally Davies: Seems out of it.
    Sally Davies: Did he partake?
    Nguy Lan: ...-huh?
    (Nguy Lan) ** Lan looks over. **
    Ferdinand Constanza: This joint's a good place to be out of it.
    ** Sally Davies takes another drag. She doesn't elaborate for Lan.
    Nguy Lan: ...-no, I didn't partake. Long day.
    Sally Davies: Hard day at the factory?
    Nguy Lan: Yeah. Factory.
    (Nguy Lan) ** His head bobbles for a bit. **
    ** Sally Davies raises a brow, but lowers it shortly afterward. "...right."
    (Nguy Lan) ** Lan's brow furrows. He stares at Sally for a second. **

    Nguy Lan: You guys ever have a feeling of impending doom?
    Nguy Lan:You know-... call of the void type shit?
    Ferdinand Constanza: Only if it's heroin, honey.
    Nguy Lan: ...-yeah. Well.
    Sally Davies: Some guy came and threatened to shoot some of us a while back, so yeah.
    Sally Davies: Turns out he was a cop.
    (Nguy Lan) ** Lan shakes his head. Emotion's clearly hidden behind his eyes now. Maybe he's pouting? It's hard to tell behind the haze. Either way, his tone speaks for him. Lan's legitimately concerned. **
    Nguy Lan: Am I a bitch for saying I'm scared?
    (Nguy Lan) ** He jerks a thumb behind him, towards the door. **
    Sally Davies: No.
    Nguy Lan: I don't like walking around out there anymore.
    Nguy Lan: I hate it, even.
    Sally Davies: Fear's a natural part of life.
    (Nguy Lan) ** He furrows his brow and goes quiet. **
    Nguy Lan: Probably just being a bitch. Whatever.
    Sally Davies: No, come on. Why are you afraid of going outside?
    (Nguy Lan) ** Nguy looks over. He squints. **
    Nguy Lan: We're living in the shadow of a genocide-happy regime that's hell-bent on controlling every aspect of our lives. What's NOT to be afraid of?
    Nguy Lan: Two bar bombings today alone.
    Nguy Lan: Four units got stabbed today. Four. Today.
    Sally Davies: And?
    Nguy Lan: ...-and?
    Nguy Lan: That's you or me tomorrow.
    Nguy Lan: I don't want to die, the fuck?

    @bison @joyless dickshit
    • Friendly Friendly x 1
    #16026 Mox, Jan 12, 2018
    Last edited: Jan 13, 2018
  27. justcallmeipod

    United States
    May 29, 2016
    Scott Michaels: [OOC] I mean, genocide isn't that bad
    nanking lovechild kicked Scott Michaels (Michaels).
    • Agree Agree x 1
    • Funny Funny x 1
  28. FervensPb

    IDIOTS Moderator

    Oct 26, 2014
    ** CCA.C17-JURY.03.84094 does some difficult mental work.
    CCA.C17-JURY.03.84094 rolled 1d20: (14) = 14
    • Agree Agree x 3
    • Funny Funny x 1
  29. Decibelle

    Decibelle Legend

    Oct 30, 2011
    ** Anna Tisdale yelps as a baton slams down at her legs, howling - in terror and pain - but refuses to back down. Like a cornered animal, she weakly kicks her legs, before deciding to just sink her teeth into 109's leg.
    CCA.C17-RcT.10959: [YELL] Ow!
    ** CCA.C17-RcT.10959 attempts to shake her off.
    ** CCA.C17-SeC.58572 waits patiently, the Commander stood just beyond the group and looking down at the scene. Only his labored breathing emanates from within his mask.
    CCA.C17-RcT.10959: Don't you know what I'd do to be in your position right now!? Not biting Unit's legs, that's for sure!

    don't you know what i'd do to be in your position right now
    • Funny Funny x 6
    #16029 Decibelle, Jan 13, 2018
    Last edited: Jan 13, 2018
  30. _Vintricus

    _Vintricus Legend

    United States
    Jan 24, 2016
    • Agree Agree x 2
  31. Absurdity

    Absurdity Senior Member

    United States
    May 24, 2015
    Syun-Ji 'Human Resources' Ford [LOOC]: "why are u covered in jizz?"
    'Blizzard' [LOOC]: "lol doors got cummeded on"

    Lionel Jones: "If someone finds the asshole with the paint gun, fuckin' shoot him!"

    • Funny Funny x 1
  32. Bumble

    Bumble Senior Member

    United States
    Jul 8, 2016
    ** CCA.C17-VICE.04.80008 gives Cam a quick, harmless slap on the cheek as he displayed his amusement. "Somethin' funny, shitheel?"
    ** Cam 'White' Neveria eyebrows raise, as the officer sexually assaults him, but would hold his composure responding "Not much officer, I'm trying to get on with my day actually."
    Cam 'White' Neveria: [LOCAL-OOC] LMAO
    • Funny Funny x 11
  33. jules

    jules Saver of TnB

    United States
    Jun 2, 2015
    pretty shmacked during this entire rp and likely wont remember it in the morning but as of right now i thought this was p cool rp between me and caelum in a dark hole

    ** Dizdarevic Guldeij appeared, he stepped inside and looked over Travis.
    ** Alice Harper trails behind Diz, she looks towards Travis with not much but a mere nod.
    ** Travis Hunt turns around. He closes his chest. He seemed to be messing with his equipment. He notices the gun in his hand. "Oh boy. Is this an execution?" He questioned, standing up as he brushed himself off.
    [L] ** Dizdarevic Guldeij didn't look him in the eyes, not yet, " Why'd you do it, Travis. " he said, his voice low -- but you could feel the confusion in his voice.
    ** Travis Hunt looks over the two. "You'll have to explain. A lot of things have happened in the last few days." He explained. He pulled his coat off, revealing himself to be completely unarmed.
    ** Alice Harper seemed to be the only one out of the pair to have the confidence to dagger Travis directly into his eyes, her own staring at him from behind Diz. She looks flustered, a hint of red building in her cheeks.
    [L] ** Dizdarevic Guldeij sniffs, he shook his head and than spat onto the floor, " You led my people into an ambush, Travis. I didn't understand, at first I sent people after you -- catch you inside of your apartment and sneak a 38 to the back of your skull and leave it to that. " he paused for a second to catch his breath, he didn't want to be here, " But I decided to call it off, you know. Wanted to speak to you face-to-face. " he looked up, right into his eyes.
    ** Travis Hunt blinks. He opens his eyes, as if he suddenly understood. "That. Yeah. That was me trying to warn them. Not walk them into an ambush. Wrong place at the wrong time..." He explained, crossing his arms. "Honest. It was a slip up on my part. A real stupid one. But... I know saying something like 'Sorry' here isn't going to undo what I did. You're here, blood for blood, aren't you?" He questioned simply. It almost too understanding.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: Two men died because of it, good men. They should have died in the charge, caught valiantly by a bullet and surrounded by their brothers. Not in a cold cage, where they were executed in cold-blood.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: They say you were sent to send a message.
    ** Alice Harper peels her eyes from Travis, taking a small step forward to stand side-by-side to Diz, looking to him.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: You led them, Travis. My man was there, he escaped.
    Travis Hunt: That's right. I can tell you the same message I told them, and the same message I warned Panda about in private. I'll admit- Gathering so many people together in one spot? That was my slip up. And yeah, their lives? Are on my head. But if you think for a second I did that on purpose? Then you're dead wrong.
    Travis Hunt: This can end with me dead. But if you think coming here was going to get me to tell you I had this planned out- Working on the inside like some sort of double agent? You're wrong. Just a dead body of a man who's made one to many mistakes.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: You could have given them this information in the safety of the underground, or in the bar where everyone was.
    ** Alice Harper turns, quickly. "They are on your fuckin' head." She hisses in response.
    Travis Hunt: Bar was crashed. I was told to tell them upstairs. That's where he led me.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: It's hard for me to understand this, Travis. To really think you weren't involved with this shit, man.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: I could kill you here, two in your chest. Send a message back to those fucks who sent you out. Why be the messenger, boy?
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: Why?
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: You could have told us this later, and because of this -- you have offically put a stop to most of my operations in fear of a rat in my ranks.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: Our progression, and our morale out of all has been crushed by a single man, Travis.
    ** Travis Hunt crosses his arms. "You think killing me is going to send a message? You don't think this is exactly what they want?" He questioned, looking around. "They had me nearly suffocated- A gun to my back. They chose not to kill me. No- Just one of 'em did. That german girl. She knew what would happen. She had this all planned out. Get me riled up, think I have her played for the fool, and walk our friends into an ambush.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: And she did, fool. She played you like a fucking fiddle.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: Two city-operation veterans are dead now.
    Travis Hunt: She was one step ahead of me. Should I have known? Yeah. If I could go back, would I change it? Without a doubt. But is there anything I can do about it now but stand here and tell you not to shoot me? Not at all. String me up. Make me your example. It won't change a damn thing. I've already got two heads- Two heads of my allies on my back. That's not exactly something I get to sleep with.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: What do you want me to do, then? Let you go? All of my people know you were the man behind this, some of them probably'll take this into their own hands and snuff you in the back of the head.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: This fuck-up is bound to happen again, I'd wager. I may be wrong, but both of these deaths have been weighing heavy on my head, Travis.
    ** Travis Hunt nods. "I'm aware. Hell. Your escapee? The one who got away? He nearly gunned me down with a groza the moment I tried to come back to the scene to see if I could help any.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: You're a rat in their eyes, and I'm sure you have your own moral reasoning on why you had to do it.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: Or how you got tricked into doing it.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: Travis, there's a difference on why my two brothers are dead and you're still alive.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: Is that they'd rather bite through their veins and kill themselves than give up their comrades.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: They don't care for themselves, they care for the bigger picture.
    ** Dizdarevic Guldeij raised his firearm hip-level, the red-dot beam danced on his bare chest. His finger sat on the trigger.
    ** Alice Harper snapped up her own sidearm as Diz did the same, resting both of her hands on the sidearm as her tense, shaky gaze remains fixed on Travis. She wasn't aiming at Travis' chest, she was aiming at his head.
    ** Travis Hunt takes a deep breath, looking at Diz. "I messed up the moment they got caught. But if you were expecting me to charge the nexus with my AR3 like some sort of personal rambo to try and save them... Well. Like you said. I think of the big picture. And I wasn't going to get anyone else killed because of my mistakes." He said, stepping forward. "Now, I know you want to kill me. And you know what? If that somehow makes you feel better? I'll let ya. I'll even tell you where I stuck my --" (Cont)
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: I wasn't expecting that, Travis. Not at all, but I was expecting you to think with your fucking brain.
    ** Travis Hunt "-- Other weapons. Hell. Who knows. You might find someone who can use them better then me. But I only have one request for you. If you really are going to kill me..." He dropped onto his knees, looking up at the man. "Tell Cassie I died fighting. In battle. Not like this. She doesn't need to know about my failures." He explained, glancing down at the ground, before resigning to whatever fate they had in store for him. "And make damn sure you win this war. Not for me... But for the two--"
    ** Travis Hunt "-- People who died because of me. And all the people who died before me." He explained.
    ** Dizdarevic Guldeij followed him as he fell to his knees, his face drooped down, but snapped up with anger, " ..such pity, all remorse. " -- he snorted, then spat onto the floor in-front of him. " You're going to tell me, right now. If you were tricked, or you were just forced into doing their bidding for them, Travis. "
    ** Alice Harper trains the suppressor of the weapon on the man as he drops to his knees, her grip on the pistol as unsure as ever. Her eyes are peeled wide open, set on the man with intent.
    Alice Harper: You weren't tricked, were you?
    Alice Harper: S'not how it goes, Travis.
    Travis Hunt: I was tricked. I told you this the moment you asked why, Diz.
    [L] ** Dizdarevic Guldeij without a second thought, Diz lowered his gun. His leg kicked upwards and looked to thump the side of his skull.
    ** Alice Harper rips down her weapon, holding it idly against her thigh, knuckles whitened.
    ** Travis Hunt was kicked, right in the skull. That was him out cold. He flopped to the floor, hands to his sides. There was no resistance.
    [L] ** Dizdarevic Guldeij didn't stop there, and he didn't care that Travis was out -- he kept up the pressure, and jack-hammered the side of his skull with his boot, he repeatedly sent several hooks and kicks all over his body -- all of his pent up anger, all of his lost comrades, he had bottled it all up and Travis was his punching bag for the night, amongst the beating he's heard yelling in his native language, anger had completely taken control of him "Cigani drkadćija, ja ću ti prebiti glavu!"
    ** Alice Harper just takes a step back and watches idly, she clearly has no intent of intervening with Diz handling everything from here on out. She idly shakes her head, huffing out a sigh.
    ** Travis Hunt was beaten, relentlessly. He couldn't resist. He was out cold, after all. Punch after punch, kick after kick. Fractures, probably a hell of a concussion- He took the full brunt of the assault. He was just a punching bag now.
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: [YELL] Kurvin kurva, moram da te ubijem, trebalo bi da te ubijem!
    Alice Harper: Right, Diz-... s'enough.
    Alice Harper: Y'got him.
    [L] ** Dizdarevic Guldeij grunted, his hands and feet were sore but he kept it up -- to the point where his knuckles had formed slight cuts and rips that began to secrete blood out, staining his already bloodied up jumper. He didn't intend on killing him, but anger had taken him to a point where he didn't realize what he was doing. Thump, thump, thump, more sluggers to his ribcage and back of his head. After a few minutes his body had given in, fatigue settled in and he stumbled backwards nearly slamming into Sam,
    [L] ** Dizdarevic Guldeij didn't have the energy do another barrage, he wiped his bloodied hands on his coat and took a grip on his pistol, shoving it into his jumper, " ..motherfucker, huh -- ..motherfucker. " he heaved out, under his tounge. He took a second to catch his breath.
    ** Travis Hunt was just laying on the ground. Blood dripped from his mouth, his head- His leg was twisted funny, there were probably broken ribs, and his clothes were wrecked. He was battered. Horribly battered.
    ** Alice Harper looks over her suppressed pistol for one more moment, before finally tucking it deep within her coat, giving Diz one final tug on the collar of his coat before gesturing him out to the exit. "...y'sure we wanna' leave him like this? Or are we jus' gonna leave?"
    Dizdarevic Guldeij: We leave him like this.
    • Friendly Friendly x 2
    • Agree Agree x 1
  34. Benji Dooble

    Benji Dooble Diamond in the rough

    United States
    Jun 1, 2015
    im so gone right now
  35. jules

    jules Saver of TnB

    United States
    Jun 2, 2015
    • Winner Winner x 1
  36. shotcopper 9000

    shotcopper 9000 Dead Soul

    Jan 18, 2015
    this some weak shit, either commit or don't do it at all...
    • Agree Agree x 5
  37. kingryan

    kingryan Zealot

    United States
    Oct 5, 2016
    (Lilith Conden) ** "A-Ana.. I-I'm s-sorry.." Lily breaks from her mouth, her eyes leaking furiously with tears of excruciating pain, fear, and dejection. **
    • :( :( x 2
    • Funny Funny x 1
    • Friendly Friendly x 1
  38. Nocturnal

    Nocturnal Zealot

    United States
    Mar 4, 2015
    i'm crying so much you have no idea.
    • :( :( x 2
    • Agree Agree x 1
    • Friendly Friendly x 1
  39. Nocturnal

    Nocturnal Zealot

    United States
    Mar 4, 2015

    The ambush and shoot-out that led to multiple captures and Lily's death. It's pretty long and she and Ana (Bat'ko) share a few last words.

    [589 MHz] Harold Brown: [WHISPER] Agreed that tower should be manned.. Abort?
    [589 MHz] Solomon Nasfar: [WHISPER] No, no. We're too deep.
    [589 MHz] Bat'ko Makhno: [WHISPER] Hold up.
    [589 MHz] Solomon Nasfar: [WHISPER] We're inside a guard tower right now.

    (COTA.APEX-PMU.37831) [EVENT] ** "<:: Targets have moved to containment zone, response teams deploy to sector BLACK-4 and prosecute." **

    [589 MHz] Aiden Miller: [WHISPER] O-Oh fuck. Is that us?
    [589 MHz] Harold Brown: [WHISPER] Are we the targets!?
    [589 MHz] Solomon Nasfar: [WHISPER] Shit. Shit.

    [L] (COTA.APEX-PMUC.30704) [EVENT] ** A flashbang sails around the corner with Travis inside it. **

    COTA.APEX-PMU.18279: [YELL] Viscon viscon!
    [589 MHz] Solomon Nasfar: [WHISPER] Shush. Shush.
    [589 MHz] Harold Brown: They knew we were here!
    ** Solomon Nasfar darts his eyes as soon as he sees movement. He bolts to where he came from.
    [L] ** Travis Hunt turns away. He scrambles away from the flashbang, around the corner. "Run!" He yells, hushed.
    ** Bat'ko Makhno scrambles back down the tunnel.
    [589 MHz] Bat'ko Makhno: [WHISPER] Out, out.
    Solomon Nasfar: [WHISPER] Eyes on!
    Lilith Conden: [WHISPER] /Close the door./
    Solomon Nasfar: [WHISPER] Not that way!
    [589 MHz] Bat'ko Makhno: [WHISPER] Eight minutes, we have eight minutes.
    [589 MHz] Solomon Nasfar: [WHISPER] We're fucked. We're dead. We're gonna die.
    [589 MHz] Solomon Nasfar: [WHISPER] Let's take some fuckers with us!
    [589 MHz] Harold Brown: [WHISPER] Me and Max will buy you those minutes.

    ** Solomon Nasfar draws his weapon and aims it at the corner.
    [L] ** Travis Hunt pulls the pin on the grenade. He cooks it for about two seconds... Then swings it around the corner. Live frag.
    ** Bat'ko Makhno pulls out her shotgun.
    [589 MHz] Harold Brown: [WHISPER] Taking over a tower.
    [589 MHz] Solomon Nasfar: [WHISPER] Frag out!

    (COTA.APEX-PMU.37831) [EVENT] ** The response is immediate and overpowering. The PA echoes throughout the facility and everything springs to life. **

    ** Solomon Nasfar crouches, he moves forward in a nervous position, his gun twitching and shaking as he pressures the move-on.
    Lilith Conden: [WHISPER] Behind us!
    COTA.APEX-PMUC.30704: [YELL] <:: Look around you.
    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.18279's AR hums violently. "<::Weapons down."
    Solomon Nasfar: [WHISPER] Oh fuck.
    Solomon Nasfar: Is it too late to run?
    [L] ** Lilith Conden aims at the group of soldiers behind her, her eyes glassing over.
    (Travis Hunt) ** The grenade cooks... Three... Two... One. Boom. Both units still in the line of its fire. **
    ** Solomon Nasfar starts tearing up, his body violently shuddering with a nervous quake. The waterworks are coming as the grenade is still cooking comes to a realization; he flashes a quick grin, his eyes beaming a slight gleam of hope.
    [589 MHz] Harold Brown: GOING LOUD! ONE DOWN!
    Lilith Conden: [WHISPER] G-guys-.. guys?
    [589 MHz] Durkin Shalam Jamer: [WHISPER] I'm gonna get the car started.
    [589 MHz] Durkin Shalam Jamer: [WHISPER] Hurry up, get out.
    [589 MHz] Durkin Shalam Jamer: [WHISPER] Leaving with, or without you guys in five.
    [589 MHz] Jonathan Maxwell Jr.: [WHISPER] We going back the way we came to the cars?

    [L] (COTA.APEX-PMU.18279) [EVENT] ** The two COTA units keep their weapons trained on the group until there's a flash. BOOM! The grenade goes off, peppering both the COTA units in shrapnel, both collapsing. **

    ** Travis Hunt moves forward, firing two rounds into each of the units, before swinging the corner, the weapon still hot.
    ** Bat'ko Makhno runs for her life.
    ** Solomon Nasfar drops to the floor as the grenade explodes; whether it was shock or mere habit. It saved his life, the shrapnel barely missing his throat. He crawls towards the corner.
    Solomon Nasfar: [YELL] BEHIND US!
    Solomon Nasfar: [YELL] MOVE!
    Solomon Nasfar: [YELL] GO!
    Solomon Nasfar: [YELL] RUN!

    ** Lilith Conden runs off with the others as soon as she turns the corner.
    Bat'ko Makhno: [WHISPER] Blindfire, down the hall.
    COTA.APEX-PMU.14070: [YELL] Malignants put down your weapons!
    ** Lilith Conden nudges Bat'ko, whispering something.
    ** Solomon Nasfar throws himself around the corner, crawling amidst the gunfire towards the door; to safety.
    [PM to Bat'ko Makhno] "Grenade."
    COTA.APEX-PMU.78424: [YELL] <:: Anti-citizens, this is your last chance. Put down your weapons before you are disposed of.
    [589 MHz] Durkin Shalam Jamer: [WHISPER] You guys good?
    ** Travis Hunt moves down the hallway, weapon still raised. "Go hot go hot!" He shouts.

    [L] (COTA.APEX-PMU.18279) ** Two COTA units rush past the group of Intel, AR's raised and humming. **

    COTA.APEX-PMU.78424: [YELL] <:: You will not have a second chance.
    ** Solomon Nasfar breaks up from his crawl, aiming his weapon behind us and waiting for Travis' movement.
    [L] (COTA.APEX-PMUC.41834) [EVENT] ** Two COTA light up the rebel's position, pulse breaking glass. **
    CCA.C17-INSEC.OfC.67899: [YELL] 341!

    [589 MHz] Durkin Shalam Jamer: [WHISPER] I don't wanna fuck you guys over and leave too soon. Someone make sure to tell me if you're gonna make it out.
    [L] ** CCA.C17-DeL.33404 writhes with burning pulse fire on her arm.
    CCA.C17-INSEC.34120: [YELL] Yeah, yeah.
    COTA.APEX-PMUC.41834: [YELL] <:: Lay down your weapons, this is your last chance.

    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.78424 pushed ahead, all three units lined up.
    [L] ** COTA.APEX-PMU.14070 popped around the corner, he opened up into Lilith's back with his AR2.

    [589 MHz] Jonathan Maxwell Jr.: [WHISPER] Are we going back through the tunnel?!
    ** Solomon Nasfar drops to the floor as the pulse rounds are shot; his scream echoing out through the hall.
    [589 MHz] Jonathan Maxwell Jr.: [WHISPER] Where are we leaving from?!
    Solomon Nasfar: [YELL] WEAPON AT THE DOOR, TRAVIS!
    Solomon Nasfar: [YELL] AT THE FUCKING DOOR!
    Solomon Nasfar: [YELL] HERE WE GO!

    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.78424 aimed the rifle at Bat'ko, the unit still not firing.
    [589 MHz] Durkin Shalam Jamer: [WHISPER] The tunnel, yeah.
    [589 MHz] Jonathan Maxwell Jr.: [WHISPER] Meet you there then!
    [589 MHz] Durkin Shalam Jamer: [WHISPER] I'm starting the car now.

    [L] ** CCA.C17-DeL.33404 continues to spin out on the floor in incredible pain.
    COTA.APEX-PMU.18279: [YELL] <::Exterminate.
    ** Bat'ko Makhno drops to the ground, shotgun clattering to the floor as she's caught in the middle of a fuck ton of gunfire.
    [L] (COTA.APEX-PMU.18279) [EVENT] ** The two COTA advance, weapons hot. **
    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.89426 rounds the corner with the rest, he keeps his weapon aimed on Makhno, clearly his hand on the trigger, until the order was given. He opens fire on the two.
    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.78424 moved on ahead, getting against the wall and eyeing Bat'ko.

    [589 MHz] Durkin Shalam Jamer: [WHISPER] Hurry up, lad.
    CCA.C17-INSEC.CmD.57747: Overwatch assets are engaging. Grab her already.
    COTA.APEX-PMUC.41834: [YELL] <:: Surrender, or face amputation.
    [589 MHz] Durkin Shalam Jamer: [WHISPER] I'm dipping in a minute.
    COTA.APEX-PMUC.41834: [YELL] <:: Toss your weapons.
    [589 MHz] Aiden Miller: [WHISPER] Hold...We're almost there, Sam and I.
    ** CCA.C17-INSEC.13000 advances steadily. "Someone stabilize the commander," she barks over her shoulder.
    Solomon Nasfar: [YELL] No surrender, no retreat!
    [589 MHz] Samuel Rosado: [WHISPER] Are we retreating?

    (Lilith Conden) ** "A-Ana--" Lilith tries to mutter words to her friend, but she's instantly shot down by 140, behind her. The pulse rounds rip through her flesh and bone, burning through her stomach and chest like it was just paper. The force of it knocks her to the ground, in front of her friend, blood spilling onto the concrete ground. **

    ** Travis Hunt stands up. He tosses his weapon forward.

    (COTA.APEX-PMU.37831) [EVENT] ** "<:: All units stand by for prosecution. Final warning issued." **

    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.78424 pushed ahead, slowly moving to the door and peaking his AR-2. He nearly just unloaded into Travis, but opted for something more peaceful now that he's understood the gravity of the situation.
    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.78424 pushed ahead and smacked his AR-2 right into Travis' face.
    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.14070 advances on Lilith, his weapon aimed at both Lilith and Bat.

    ** Travis Hunt was knocked right back onto his ass, falling flat and out.
    COTA.APEX-PMU.78424: [YELL] <:: Do not make any second movements, or you WILL be killed.
    [L] ** CCA.C17-DeL.33404 doesn't cooperate. She's frothing inside her mask, trying to grip at the burning shoulderpad. Plastic is melting onto skin. Her arm sizzles through layers of fabric.
    COTA.APEX-PMU.78424: <:: Shut your mouth, anti-citizen.

    Harold Brown: [OOC] ** Harold Brown suppresses the group of the rooftops with a volley of rounds from the chimney to the guard tower as he ducks behind the corner.
    COTA.APEX-PMUC.41834: [YELL] <:: Lay down on the ground, PMUs move in and gather their weapons, get them secured. Do not hesitate to amputate if they resist.
    COTA.APEX-PMUC.41834: [YELL] Move move move!
    ** CCA.C17-INSEC.CmD.57747 switches targets as each target is subdued. Bat'ko finds a green laser glinting off of her goggles.
    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.78424 kicked the weapons the two dropped away from their grasp.

    ** Bat'ko Makhno breathes heavily, staring at Lilith get gunned down. Wordlessly, she shuts her eyes behind the goggles, leaning back against the wall. She's given up.
    CCA.C17-INSEC.13000: Moving.
    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.78424 moved over to Solomon, delivering a brutal kick to his gut. "<:: QUIET, HANDS ON YOUR HEAD."
    CCA.C17-INSEC.CmD.57747: Thirteen, over here. I'll grab her.
    ** CCA.C17-INSEC.13000 slips further down while 555 covers her.

    (COTA.APEX-PMU.37831) [EVENT] ** Amidst the chaos and gunfire the snow seems to end. Fog pulling away into the distance. **

    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.14070 looks down at Lilith, scanning for signs of life.
    [L] ** CCA.C17-DeL.33404 screams and barks unintelligibly into her vocoder.
    ** CCA.C17-INSEC.CmD.57747 stows his handgun, storming over and around.

    (Oka Mi) [EVENT] ** It only took a minute or so, a sound that cuts through, only heard now as the storm peels back, the heavy blades of a helicopter pushing toward the facility at breakneck speed. **

    COTA.APEX-PMU.78424: <:: 78424; reporting. Two malignants have been disarmed and captured.
    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.18279 moves the barrel of its AR only inches from Bat'ko's head, the weapon still humming violently.

    [589 MHz] Harold Brown: We're by the cargo container! Taking fire! Oh fuck the fog!
    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.78424 leaned down, grabbing Solomon by the scruff of his neck and pushing him to the counter.

    (Lilith Conden) ** Lilith was torn through, yes, but there was still light breathing coming from her mouth. She was holding onto the last string of life she had left, anything. Her hand creeps up to Ana's side, trying to hold it one last time before she ultimately perished in a pool of her own flesh. She mumbles something incoherent. **

    [589 MHz] Durkin Shalam Jamer: [WHISPER] Chopper is here... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...
    [589 MHz] Harold Brown: Don't you leave us! We're coming!

    COTA.APEX-PMU.14070: <:: 14070; Additional two malignants captured, one malignant incapacitated.
    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.89426 rounds the corner, his weapon was raised on the two he moves to Travis, the inhuman machine slams a boot down on his leg, before dropping to a knee straight into his back.

    [589 MHz] Harold Brown: I'll give them your name I swear to god!
    [L] ** CCA.C17-DeL.33404 scrambles to her knees. She's a little more reserved and sober now. The pain is excruciating, though she's fanning at the burns and melting plasma with her other hand. It's desperate and pathetic.
    [589 MHz] Durkin Shalam Jamer: [WHISPER] You don't even know me... But, I'm sorry...
    [589 MHz] Harold Brown: This was a fucking ambush! We were sold out. Whoever comes back was the mole.
    [589 MHz] Solomon Nasfar: [WHISPER] Durkin. I'm sorry.
    [589 MHz] Durkin Shalam Jamer: [WHISPER] Solomon... No...

    (COTA.APEX-PMU.37831) [EVENT] ** "<:: Sector containment failure in external area. Deploying heavy assets, prosecute and terminate." **

    (Oka Mi) [EVENT] ** The helicopter rushes into the airspace above, quick to level its attention on the entrance, supporting the ground troops already awaiting. **

    ** CCA.C17-DOGMA.12645 sweeps past.

    (UU.C17-TYRANT.60811) [EVENT] ** The thump of a synthetic can be heard across the outside of the compound. The local resistance can hear an inhuman cry as it approaches Harold and Jonathan. **

    ** Bat'ko Makhno sure is kicked. She rolls onto her stomach, parallel to Conden.
    (Lilith Conden) ** "A-Ana.. I-I'm s-sorry.." Lily breaks from her mouth, her eyes leaking furiously with tears of excruciating pain, fear, and dejection. **

    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.89426 grabs ahold of Travis's arm one by one, he was extremely harsh and unforgiving. The COTA unit pretty much yanks his arm out of socket while going to bind his wrists, the zip ties far too tight.
    CCA.C17-INSEC.OfC.67899: Is, uhh, is this situation contained, COTA?
    COTA.APEX-PMU.78424: <:: 10-4.
    CCA.C17-INSEC.OfC.67899: Understood.
    ** CCA.C17-INSEC.00150 kept eyes to their three. "Looks to be."
    COTA.APEX-PMU.78424: <:: One incapacitated malignant, two captured.

    (Oka Mi) [EVENT] ** The hunter chopper manoeuvres about, loosing a storm of pulse as the transhumans advance on the cornered infiltrators. **

    ** Bat'ko Makhno angles her head towards Conden as she's roughhoused. She whispers.
    [PM from Bat'ko Makhno] "It's okay, it's okay. Please."

    (COTA.APEX-PMU.89426) ** The zipties were still extremely tight to the point of leaving markings on his wrists. **
    COTA.APEX-PMU.78424: <:: The benefactors will decide what to do with you, anti-citizen.

    Lilith Conden: A-Ana.. I-I'm s-sorry.. I-I'm sorry, I-I wish I co-could've done someth-thing.

    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.89426 grabs the man by an arm, yanking him up harshly, manhandling the guy.

    ** Lilith Conden's eyes are engulfed in a sea of tears; her lips quiver violently as the pain of the pulse rounds rush over her pale skin once more.

    [589 MHz] Jonathan Maxwell Jr.: *Voices can be heard from the other side of the radio, along with helicopter blades. "I'll give you everything, I'm cooperating, I don't know where the black guy went." *
    [L] ** CCA.C17-DeL.33404 soothes out comfortably as the aid is applied. Her grunts in pain stop. "Thanks," she hisses out from her vents. "Not the first time." She hasn't looked at her arm. "How bad is it? I can't feel anything. Numb now."

    ** Bat'ko Makhno devolves into a bumbling mess. Her chest quivers, breathing fast and erratic. "You don't have to do anything," she says, choking back tears. "It's okay-" She says, interrupted by the boot. She's lying through her teeth.

    Solomon Nasfar: [YELL] God, help me! Anyone, help me!
    [589 MHz] Jonathan Maxwell Jr.: "Secure the intruders."
    COTA.APEX-PMU.78424: <:: Two malignants contained, requesting further directives.

    (COTA.APEX-PMU.37831) [EVENT] ** "<:: Containment of priority targets proceeding. Perimeter security re-established." **

    [589 MHz] Jonathan Maxwell Jr.: "<:: Bring him in, and secure him in the cell block."

    (Oka Mi) [EVENT] ** The helicopter moves on again, further prowling the airspace, ensuring the facility is clear of further threats. **

    [589 MHz] Jonathan Maxwell Jr.: "I dunno where he went, He left after that fucking grenade."

    (Lilith Conden) ** "I-I love you.. I l-love you, A-Ana.." Lilith whimpers, her hand curling around Ana's hand, using whatever strength she had left to squeeze her palm tight. She knew that her time was up, and so her last thought was to feel the touch of a friend a final time. Her facial muscles contort, fading in and out of a blusterous grimace. **

    [589 MHz] Jonathan Maxwell Jr.: "Back towards the guard station."

    ** Bat'ko Makhno doesn't respond, taking a wordless approach to things. She rests her head against the ground-only slight sounds of sniffling can be heard now.
    (Bat'ko Makhno) ** "Ty takozh. Ty tezh malenʹkyy." **

    Durkin Shalam Jamer: [OOC] **Drives off into the windy sunset, whispering fearful words in Arabic as he does so.

    COTA.APEX-PMUC.41834: [YELL] <:: Start moving to the back PMUs.
    [589 MHz] Jonathan Maxwell Jr.: "Wait, wait, wait, don't shoot! I'll give you intel!"
    [589 MHz] Jonathan Maxwell Jr.: "Secure them both, we'll move them to the inner block."

    [L] ** CCA.C17-DeL.33404 grunts. She reaches for her earpiece.

    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.14070 fired an additional two rounds into Lilith's body from his pulse weapon, directed at Lilith's torso.

    ** Lilith Conden's chest is absolutely pulverized by the pulse rounds sent into her torso, devastating her lungs and shattering her ribcage as well. The respiratory organs rapidly fill with fluids, causing the girl to choke on her own blood. It spills forth through her mouth and nose, and the single glint of life left in her eyes disappears. Her head drops on the concrete with a thud, gone for real.

    (Bat'ko Makhno) ** Eyes still closed, the Ukrainian moves a hand over to whatever of Lilith's corpse she could find. "Vidpochynok lehko, khyritka," she says in her native language. Her left-hand draws down her balaclava-she smells like sweat despite the cold. **

    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.18279 sends a boot to Bat'ko's side, trying to get them on their stomach.
    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.18279 rests a boot on the small of her back, reaching for a pair of ties. "<:: Affirmative."
    ** COTA.APEX-PMU.18279 presses their boot down harder on Makhno's back, finishing the tie.
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    #16039 Nocturnal, Jan 14, 2018
    Last edited: Jan 14, 2018
  40. adderall


    United States
    Jan 11, 2015
    You're a heartbreaker, nocturnal...
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