Tabula Rasa Roleplayers

Added profile for my newest character, Brann hybrid Caeruleum "Blue" Deoradhan. More about her OOC creation can be read at my blog at AFS Soldiers. I also added a picture of her to the gallery here.

I'd been told they were all dead, I'd accepted that. I and my kin mourned all of them. Then in the middle of a hard fought battle for a control point he appeared. He was dead, but... there he was in the flesh.
He appeared, helped out a bit and disappeared as if he had never been.
He was there, I saw him... He left footprints, he was real, not just some battle shock induced hallucination.
If he's alive... maybe some of the others are too... I need to find out. I need to know...
Time to hunt again, but this time it isn't Bane, its answers.
For the Nightstalkers,
For myself,
I'm coming, Darius.

Well, here I am, along with a few others seeing if we can kick the putrid smelling dead phoenix that is the RP in TR to finally burst into flames and start squeaking again!

So, we have finally nailed the problem that comes with high levels in MMO's. High level toons and low level toons don't mix in combat.
Yes it would seem right off the bat we are getting into these problems, but ya know what? This is a good sign. At least to me it shows that we can pull this through. We can do this! We are seeing the problems early on the get go and this gives us a chance to fix these and get them out of the way BEFORE we have a couple dozen (lets be realistic) RPers out there.

Ok, I think I am going to make a toon for the purpose of balantly and shamelessly promoting TRRP in-game. For I think most people don't have the slightest idea that "OMFG! There's a forum for RPers!" Or that it's live and kicking again.... well at least poking but that's more than my former clan's forum is doing.

Hmm, what else... erm yeah, ice cream kicks all ass.

It's never safe on Foreas. Everyone knows that. We fight for our survival, they fight for our extinction. Can anything be more simple in concept?

I've served my years in the AFS with no real distinctions. I'm just another soldier. Just another body that will someday end up in the hospital morgue. But even a soldier has feelings. Even a number can cry. A face in the crowd screams. I'm no hero. I'm no savior to my people. I do what is asked. Maybe I'm a coward. Maybe I'm a fool. Maybe I'm a dead man barely hanging onto the life that is no longer meaningful to me. But what does it matter? I wake up everyday to the sound of gunfire. The cries of the dying. The sounds of my brothers and sisters in agony on the cold battlefields. Do I feel sympathy for the Bane? Far from it. I wish I was more than a number. More than a mark on a piece of paper. More than a footstep upon the bloodied ground. But I know I will never be more than a soldier. I'm afraid. Not of dying. Not of becoming one of them. I'm afraid of giving the ultimate sacrifice and it not affecting this war.

This war. Did we ask for it? No. Did we provoke it? No. But we still fight it. We waged wars against ourselves on Earth for untold centuries. Talks of peace were laughed at. Funny how it took a near extinction of the human race to unite us.

Maybe by me writing this I will leave some mark upon history. Maybe in a few years, when this war is finally over, someone will find this and read it. Maybe they'll hear my words echoing over the years. Maybe they'll know who I was. What I did. What I fought, and died, for. Maybe they'll live free of this oppression. Maybe I'll finally make a difference.

Michan Moonlight Life Journal:

A loud explosion rocked Michan about in his foxhole, the noise ear deafening on what had been a quiet morning. The Repair tool on that was hanging from his belt started to beep loudly. "The turret..." He quickly jumped out of his hole and started to run towards the turret. the sun was still low almost blinding him as he ran. A big Bane assult group was pushing over the river shoting wildy on the greenhorns infront of the damaged tower.
Michan threw himself forward in a role dogeing several red laser beams from the assulting bane. He couldent stop, whitout that turret they where done for. Comeing closer to the turret he saw a red shine behind it. The bane was teleporting in behind the line and everyone was to busy to notice. He pulled out his rifle and droped to a knee and took aim. Bang. Bang. Bang. Two of his shots hit the bane the third missing and now they knew he was there. They started to move towards him shoting as they moved. Michan droped to a prone takeing stedy aim. Bang. Bang. the first bane droped dead next to his friend that keept runing and shoting. Michan roled left shot once then right and shot again the laserbeams hiting the gound all around him. one made him lose his breath hitting the ground right infront of him spaying dirt over his helmet. The bane was geting to close. He gott up and holstering his rifle and pulling his pistol runing towards the bane. As he gott closer the bane tryed to kick him but michan dove in between his arm and leg roleing around as he hit the ground springing to his feet and pouncing at the bane that was to slow to react. whit a arm around the aliens neck he put the pistol to its head "BANG BANG BANG". The alien stod up for a few seconds then droped down and michan jumped off. His ears was ringing as he looked on his hands and pistol coverd in bane blood not able to focus. After what feelt like houers his vision focused again and the sound of battle rang in his ears.
"The turret... have to fix the turret..." He ran the few meters to the turret pulling out his repar tool crunching down as to not be hit by the banes heavey fire. "come on you litle repair robots do your thing!" The turret sprung to life spining around almost knocking michan to the ground then took aim on the bane and opend fire. A cheer come from the soldiers on the line wich started to fight again whit renewed moral and hope. Soon the Bane was runing back across the river in a full retreat and Michan stod up watching them run panting heavely. Then he heard something behind him, turning around and takeing a knee he fired away a logos lighting as hard as he could, the bane that had somehow snuck up on him slowly fried in his armor a thick cloud of steam comeing from its urning flesh befor Michan stoped and it droped down.
Later that day the camp liutenant handed him a letter and saluted him befor moveing on.

To Pvt Michan Moonlight of the AFS.
I heard of your exploits on the line today soldier and let me be the first to congratulate you. Many soldiers would not have been able to do what you did, adn in by doing so you undoubteble saved alot of lifes. I wish to speak whit you about a feild promotion later on but first to a more pressing issue. I found a application from you on a request for sapper traning. Consider this granted and report for traning 1100 houers at Alia Das HQ tomorrow.
/Outpost Commander Rogers

Michan lowerd teh letter and smiled. Finaly, he thought, Finaly he would get away from the line and gets some well needed advanced traning. He looked over the battlefeild that had been his home for the last week like trying to burn it into his memory. The few trees still alive and the mud feeling so natural to him now. Here he was born in fire, here his true life had begun. He roled up the letter tucking it inside his hazard armor walking back to his foxhole slowly whisteling on a old song.

Michan Moonlight life Journal:

Michan sprung awake from his restingplace in the foxhole looking around whit wide eyes, his hart pounding hard. The sun was slowly raising on the horizont and a soft rain was comeing down makeing everything damp but also clearing the smell of gunpowder and death from the air. Michan slowly gott up on his feet carefully looking out of his foxhole. Wakeing up from a nightmare was proberbly not something rare among the soldiers in this war but, he thought, he was proberbly the only one haveing nightmares about big university exams and not the bane.
He made lose his rifle from its hold on his back and climbed out of the foxhole. He was in charge, as a specialist, to check on the nearest turret everytime he was free from duty. Walking among the foxholes, some of them empthy, some whit sleeping soldiers he drifted back to the events of past days. Bane assults had been accuring everyday since he had arived from bootcamp and he had killed more then his shear and seen many of his fellow soldiers being carried away whit terrible wounds aswell. Yesterday had been a hard day where the ASF had tryed to push over river and take out the bane artilery but it had been unsucssesfull and the only bomb that gott planted dident go off. He stoped near the turret looking over it and walking around it. A few battle scares to the armor but it looked ok for now...
Michan yawned wide and started to walk back the way he had come from, watching the sentrys just 20 meters infront of the turret smileing to himself. It appeard a new batch soldiers had arrived and as normal all of them had been put near the turret. Well, he thought, its the safest place for the greenhorns aslong as they dident drop there rifles and shot themself. It had happen befor and would proberbly happen again. The short walk back to the foxhole was uneventfull and suprisingly beutyfull whit the raising sun on the horizont. He droped back into his foxhole whitout any truble yawning again. He was still wating for a answer on his request for sapper traning from the commander and had many things on his mind as he settled down to his resting place again. "The bane... hard ass aliens that wanted to kill everyone.. Why do i keep haveing nightmares about the exams", he mubled to himself closeing his eyes. Soon he drifted of to sleep again the soft rain moveing away, the sky promesing a new warm sunny day filled whit death...

Rinok Moonlight journal Entry.

RnR... Yesterday was my first day as a active AFS soldier and im still wondering how i stayed alive... Bootcamp was been hard and there was loads of things to learn but nothing ever prepeard me for real active duty...
It dident take 10 minutes from my arrival until i had a assigned warm bunk bed and my first mission in my hands. I was to escort some kind of alien shaman to a holycave, boy i must have looked dumstruk when i saw him. Bootcamp had shown pictures of all the alien races but i had never until that day acctuly meet one. I did my duty and escorted him to the cave and then back. A cake walk if i would have to tell it but then i gott some new missions. Scout to a frontal position and see why our ammo shipments are late and when i was heading out the base Medic caught me and told me to look for her medecine supplies as well. The travel went easy just some treelurkers in my way, guess the ASF turrets where doing there job...
I found the ammo convoy and learnt that some bane had taken most of the ammo gott the cordinates went there and took it back killing a few bane in the process... *sigh* my first kills and first time against real bane but still not much. I was starting to think "either im a great soldier or the whole bane thing has been blown out of proporsion"... sadly i wasent right. After returning the ammo i was called to a asembly where several of my bootcamp buddys was lined up and we ran of to the front lines.
At arrival everything was calm until my friend specialist Arturh Gonik tryed to repair a turret...
I held my arms around him trying to keep his guts from runing out while screaming for a medic. A sniper from the other side of the river bank my officer said as he pulled me on my feet forcing me to leave my dead friend.
When the call came for volentears to go over the bank and take out the snipers i was the first to step froward. I dident notice i was the only one. When i asked for my friends i gott the answer that most of them was alredy dead or wounded from a bane attack further down the line. The rage that filled me and the power i felt from it... I had heard the storys of the logos but never been able to acctivate the bootcamps logo no mather how hard i tryed, now i sudenly realised that i had been activating it but for some reason it had been a scilent transfer.
I ran over to the Bane side of the river moveing around like some kind of spec ops guy shoting everything that moved and when i found the sniper i riped his head off whit my hands...
When i cam back ot the line i was coverd in bane blood and my eyes dead. They quickly sent a logos receptive to me to comfirm that i was the real thing then sent me whit a medical escort back to base and then i shiped out to a logos traning camp. I dont know what i will learn here, but i thank whatever gods that can hear me for the rest and down time. Maby next time i go out to the line i will be better prepeard, if any of my friends are alive i dont know but i hope i will see them again...

20150125

I’ve gone through them over and over in my mind, every battle I was apart as a Nightstalker thus far, something I suggest everyone avoid doing, the seemingly insufferably slow march of time has caused me to dwell on such things. I can see the mistakes made, and the mistakes in the training, when I get out of here that is going to change. We’ve been too easy on this motley crew of refugees, it is time to kick them in the ass and turn them into a real mean green fighting machine.

I wouldn’t put a battalion of today’s AFS against a single Marine Rifle Platoon, there is no comparison the Marine Platoon would fight through them by breakfast and dine in the Battalion’s chow hall. I am reminded of a quote that inspired many a Marine.

"THE UNITED STATES MARINE CORPS... is over 225 years of romping, stomping, hell, death and destruction. The finest fighting machine the world has ever seen. We were born in a bomb crater, our mother was an M-16 and our father was the Devil. Each moment that I live is an additional threat upon your life. I am a rough looking, roving soldier of the sea. I am cocky, self-centered, overbearing, and do not know the meaning of fear, for I am fear itself. I am a green amphibious monster, made of blood and guts, who arose from the sea, feasting on anti-Americans throughout the globe. Whenever it may arise, and when my time comes, I will die a glorious death on the battlefield, giving my life for mom, the Corps, and the American Flag. We stole the eagle from the Air Force, the anchor from the Navy, and the rope from the Army. On the 7th day, while God rested, we over-ran his perimeter and stole the globe, and we've been running the show ever since. We live like soldiers and talk like sailors and slap the hell out of both of them. Warrior by day, lover by night, drunkard by choice, MARINE BY GOD!!! OORAH!!!"

If we are going to win this war, this is what we will need. Maybe we can create Marines out of these soldiers yet.

Captain Rasmussen

It was quiet last night, in comparison. The usual crew dropped by to check on me, it is drawing nearer to my trial but yet I find the time cannot pass fast enough. My defense team seems to be coming along but I am worried we might not find enough to counter the trial evidence.

On the brighter side this much time in doors has allowed me to brush up on my racquetball game, Captain Owen was kind enough to provide a few balls and a racquet which I have found to work well on the metal walls and bare room. Without an opponent I have taken to trying to keep as many of the balls in play as I can. If nothing else I am in better shape than I was last week, it is hard to find time to PT with a war going on.

Captain Rasmussen

Sent via Datapad from AFS CommNet

I am not sure where to begin about the events of last night, there were so many highs and lows I do not think a daytime soap opera could have produced such results, and for many reasons cannot go into details here. The charges against me were finalized last night as Captain Owen filed her referral.

Charges and Specifications Referred to General Courts-Martial for 5th AFS Regiment
Involved in the Randle K. Rasmussen, Murder Investigation

Captain Maya A. Rasmussen, AFS

Charges Referred to General Courts-Martial on January. 26, 2015: (Charges were filed on January 19, 2015)

Violation of the UCMJ, Article 112 - Wrongful use, possession, etc., of controlled substances.
Specification: Aldesleukin

Violation of the UCMJ, Article 118 – Murder, premeditated
Specification: Did with premeditation, murder Randle K. Rasmussen, AFS Retired.

This was not unexpected on my part as I would have made the same referral based on the evidence where the roles reversed. Lt. Riis and many Nightstalkers dropped by to discuss the case and the hearing, and Major Bowen also arrived to lend his support and seemed adamant about finding my cousin Jade.



I had a few visitors last night, Captain Owen herself being one came to inform me of her decision in person, and I continue to have nothing but the utmost respect for Captain Owen and her impartialness she has affected for this trial. When I was first interrogated I had feared I would have received biased treatment by the base CID staff, I count myself lucky that Captain Owen stepped and accepted the task of holding this trial.



Lastly all I can really say is my night ended on a very high note, confusing, but high, I am currently unsure on whether to explore the possibility or hide from it. It is unfortunate that I cannot go into detail even on my own datapad, but I can never know what is and what is not monitored, therefore vagueness is required.



Captain Rasmussen

Sent via Datapad from AFS CommNet

The evening brought with it much stress as events outside my confined realm spun out out of control. It is amazing how wide spread rumors roam as many have reached me in this small quiet space. I have learned of a few plans and conspiracies that disturb me, plans seem to be in the works to kidnap and interrogate witnesses for the Trial Counsel, I can only cringe at the thought as any action taken against these individuals maybe be seen as intimidation and would certainly look bad on me. I can only hope my Nightstalkers can heed to reason and common sense before they do something that could potentially cripple my defense.

Not to mention the incident with Corporal Owens last night, acting on her own sense of morality she ignored direct orders and even injured a fellow soldier, I was not a direct witness to this event and as such will have to defer judgment to the Major as I am not in a place to easily do so. The Corporal also disobeyed a direct order from me in the presence of another Captain, as much as I like Corporal Owens as a person this is something that cannot go unpunished.

The confinement is beginning to wear on my nerves, not so much in of it self, but because of the events happening around me that I cannot affect as I should be able too. I can only hope it ends soon.

Maya Rasmussen

Sent via Datapad from AFS CommNet

I had many visitors yesterday and while I was grateful, I was concerned about how so many managed to bypass the guards to find me. They risk too much to come see me. I can’t say though how much I appreciate their company, as you can imagine, it is quite dark and lonely down here. The visit by Private Miliano was probably the most heartening for me, as she brought news that some of the issues between the Nightstalkers and Hellhounds caused by the hearing had been ironed out as well as news about how her fellow Nightstalkers were handling the situation, the girl has more heart than she realizes.

Corporal Solarian was kind enough to update my datapad with some music that he had indexed. Chopin, Bach, Tchaikovsky, among many others are now at my disposal, it will definitely help during the upcoming days. I drifted to sleep last night to the 1812, if nothing else the captivity has allowed me to ponder many things I have long since stashed into the back of my mind.

Captain Owen has agreed to have a few things gathered for me; my PT clothes, a couple of racquetballs and a racquet even, I figure this sparse room and its bare metal walls will make a perfect place to practice my game, as well as help keep me in shape. She also agreed to try and track down the person that made this music box.

It’s the inability to be out there fighting with my unit that is bothering me the most. They are out their risking their lives and I am trapped inside. If one of them were to die in combat while I am trapped in here, I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

Maya

Sent via Datapad from AFS CommNet

The hearing was longer than I had expected, tensions had run high on both sides. The glaring eyes from countless unknowns bore a hole through the back of my head. Some of my Nightstalkers did not act as disciplined as I thought I had trained them, something I will have to rectify as soon as I can. While I can sympathize with their feelings I cannot condone their actions, as I was evacuated out of the courtroom when danger of an attack by my troops was suspected I felt both grateful but disappointed, grateful that my troops cared that much, but disappointed that they did not maintain the bearing of a soldier.

My thoughts still linger on the trial, the accusations against my honor almost unbearable, but I sat as quietly as I could, the time to defend myself will come soon enough. I can only commend the 131st for their actions last night, although they are holding the hearing they acted in with the utmost honor and restraint as some of my troops became unruly. I could also see in Captain Owen’s eyes the desire that this hearing and possible trial be heard in the fairest light, and if this goes to trial I do not fear any biasness on her part.

I do not fear mistreatment, not as I had suffered at the hands of the CID, I do not believe any member of the 131st would attempt it. While he had no choice the Major seemed very reluctant to release me into the hands of the 131st for detention, the act itself noble in nature but impractical as the charges levied against me required that I be detained.

While cold and impersonal, this cell is nothing I am not used to, military life has always been a bit Spartan, and personal affects are something you learn to deal without. I have my honor to keep me company, along with my data pad, and a small music box, while the time may pass slowly, it will give me a chance to catch up on thoughts and feelings I have had to push aside for so long.

Maya

Sent via Datapad from AFS CommNet

Civvie-slickers.

It's pretty funny to me that I used to talk about city-slickers -- the folks that don't know an honest day's work or which way a saddle goes on a horse.

Now, I'm called a civvie-slicker. We're the ones in the AFS who haven't adjusted to military life but, also, haven't gone AWOL. If we forget to remove our helmet or salute to the right people or salute the right way, we get called a civvie-slicker. Heck. They even call some of the brass civvie-slickers. They don't seem to like them as brass.

What choice we got? We are civilians. We didn't sign up right out of high-school or college. We've lived our own life, and it ain't easy for us. I realize now that I should've never made fun of city-slickers. I'm really out of my league here.

I. The Last Five Days
. . . 1. Day 1: Dec 21, 2012
. . . 2. Day 2: Dec 22, 2012
. . . 3. Day 3: Dec 23, 2012
. . . 4. Day 4: Dec 24, 2012
. . . 5. Day 5: Dec 25, 2012
. . . 6. Day 730: Dec 20, 2014
II. Confession
III. Cool
IV. Book of the Dead
V. Mirror
VI. Padre Angelo
VII. Thy Will Be Done
VIII. Manos
. . . 1. No Está Hecho
. . . 2. Humanidad
. . . 3. Vigilancia
. . . 4. Salvando Vidas
. . . 5. Trabajo de Dios
. . . 6. Comunión con los Muertos
. . . 7. Calor
. . . 8. Nueve Vive
. . . 9. Río Me Tendrá
. . . E. Nunca Está Hecho

"You're gonna kill some. You're gonna free some. You're gonna lose someone." --Martina Topley-Bird

Index
Chapter 1: No Está Hecho
Chapter 2: Humanidad
Chapter 3: Vigilancia
Chapter 4: Salvando Vidas
Chapter 5: Trabajo de Dios
Chapter 6: Comunión con los Muertos
Chapter 7: Calor
Chapter 8: Nueve Vive
Chapter 9: Río Me Tendrá
Epilogue: Nunca Está Hecho

This shall be an OOC post, in case you couldn't tell.

I figured my sig was getting way too damn long, what with each individual story linked there. So, I'm going to just link the ones that come in groups here for simplicity. You know, story lines and so forth. I'll keep this updated!

Family Ties - 6/6 Parts
- Another Man's Shoes -
- A Shot in the Dark -
-Speared -
- Cold -
- Deliverance -
- Awake At Last -

((This is a photo journal kept by Clever.))

http://www.galacon.net/comm/viewtopic.php?f=22&t=335

((Journal kept on the 131st's forums, enjoy.))

http://www.galacon.net/comm/viewtopic.php?f=22&t=172

The rumor that AFS are killing AFS keeps popping up again. It's gotten worse. I used to insist it was probably just the mixed-n-matched machinas. How much I hear it now gets on my nerves.

It scares me. Either AFS are really killing AFS or a lot more AFS are ending up as robots. I don't wanna be paranoid about the gang that goes out on the field with me, and I ain't gonna end up as no robot, neither.

Give me a horse, some land and a girl (or two) and I'd be happy. This situation we're in, it makes my head swim. I could deal with killing Bane, but killing AFS? Pardon my French, but what the heck is that all about?