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[Caellath]

((Nevermind, too hard. I am tempted to ask SeriousConcentrate if Jim is really going to follow that guide, specially the tips related to kidnapping.))

[Doomblade187]

((WAT. Pure Willpower. Jesus, its RAVENOR!))

((Yeah, but there was no other way I could use the mass converter. Ah well. It seems to fit the character, at least. Hey, three mental disorders, not counting OCD...))

[Tiruin]

Feyri stopped a while after manually inputting her notes down on the thing, it seemed that she didn't know much about storing personal information where others couldn't see it, due to her memories back in the Mercenary corps. Where everything you own belongs to everyone else...Other than personal clothing.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Date, Unknown. Time, Unknown.
Wish they had a Calendar here just like on Earth.

Entry I

Dear Diary,

     So...first time writing in one, or typing in one, I don't know. This thing has both types of interface so hi diary! Alright, what to say...there was a lot of things I've been through but first page so I think this should be complete with my thoug-

Oh great. I forgot to remove the mental uplink.

Entry Deleted

Dear Diary,

     It was a beautiful mor-

Entry Deleted

Dear Dairy,

Entry Deleted

"Where is that delete button?! Oh, wait. There you are."

Spoiler: Diary (click to show/hide)

Date, Unknown. Time, Unknown.
Wish they had a Calendar here just like on Earth.

Entry I

Dear Diary,

     First entry. nervous as what to say. I am Feyri Nirel, previous leader of the Mercenary band 'Crimson Ire'. Though the name sounds of malicious design, and due to a mercenary's reputation as nothing-but-money-looting-[JERKS], our group was a de facto team working as vigilantes against crime.

    Guess what? I'm currently in the HMRC, short for Hazardous Materials Requisition Corps. Very degrading on my side, especially with the rabble I have to put up with in here. Everyone, as of late, has the wrong impression of me but I've grown accustomed to their antics. All I wanted to do, before being 'convicted' was to pick up a sterling silver penny across the street.

    Yes, Jaywalking got me into this mess. I have to survive about ten grueling missions if I want out, no honourable discharge, no pathway out of this mess; death is the only other option, as I know. The mission that we take conspire against any alien race that Humanity wants to blast away due to warring conflicts. Now, I'm not one to care about war, but this just seems silly: we've enlisted for a vague cause, fighting without knowledge of what race we're exactly fighting. It all seemed irrelevant, my first mission hardened that impression.

     I was in a squad composed of about four five people, including myself (Forgot to add one). A Medic (or Fleshtech, as they term it) named Faith Valentine, another Mercenary named Ivan Yankovichy - not Russian I guess but he was my elder and deserved my stoic respect, Me as another Mercenary, a young man that seemed as a jack-of-all-trades, with no seeming specialties and lastly, a Transhuman, 'Subject 19-3' on the nameplate but going by the name of "Jim". You see the variance straight off, we only had about a few hours time to get to know each other before everything happened.

     So I won't bore you with the first landing -Ok, I will. Nothing else to do here but stare at the ceiling, there aren't any spiders I can watch who weave their webs anyway. The initial drop was composed of about six shuttles, we've lost four to AA fire and the other squad to unknown circumstances. We were the only survivors of that deathtrap, and we were now in another deathtrap on land. How quaint.


     So we landed on an arid piece of rock to scavenge for technology on an 'easy, 10-20% mortality rate' mission. Gravity was low, the lands were composed of towering rock formation, red sand plateaus and mesas then finally, flat land covered with ice. It was a beautiful sight, but shrouded in darkness as the planet's star was...missing. We nearly lost Jim during the initial approach due to a catastrophic defense system, for as the rest of the squad hunkered down on the ground to avoid probable enemy fire, I broke my darn leg while gravity-abseiling down from a tall mountain peak after scouting the area. Just goes to show how mortality weaves it's precious strands, eh?

     Minutes later, we encountered a Sentinel made of steel and silver, it shone as bright as the sun as my light amps reflected against it and was activated by my friends as we explored our target -a geometric pyramid or ruin of an ancient race. In it, we saw beautiful murals that depicted the rise and fall of the civilization before us, uploaded the memory for posterity purposes. All in all, I had to kill the Sentinel before it could kill my allies, I don't know what drove me to do such a stupid act, but it worked.

     I hefted Jim over my shoulder as we made our way across the tomb, for it was to be called so after interpreting the engravings, the place we were in was the last sanctum of an elder civilization. The planet seen in the engraving was protected by a strange dodecahedron-object, the only shield against a star's deathly supernova.

     Getting a painkiller from a friend, we discovered more of the upper regions of the place, and I...somehow got attached to our incapacitated ally. Don't get me wrong, I firmly believe in the phrase 'don't leave anyone behind', but another force drove me to...show my more effeminate emotions. I guess losing everyone else that I knew before this [STUPID] shift of allegiance took a harder toll on me than I knew.

    I'll admit, I broke down at the loss of my former squadmates, I've never seen anyone die before despite my occupational hazards. At least nobody else minded it, much.

    In short, we reached the top floor of the area, broke a few things along the way but met no resistance from the Guardians of the tomb. The top floor was the most exquisite, and by far the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Crystal-like objects were embedded within the walls, and glowed with an eerie silence. With Faith's suggestion, I had to fish out the power source, or that is what I recall it was to finish our search. Handing it over to Faith, I proceeded back as the leading pointman towards our shuttle.

    Then we discovered, the artifact that Faith held which was then traded with Milno for his other artifact (both got a trove of tokens though, so I'm not complaining), was the only thing keeping the remnants of that race's civilization alive. It was the power source. Those crystals? They were the chambers for whatever surviving creature managed to get into before the catastrophe of their system.

    Now for the important part. It seems that our squad wasn't actually all that bad! First impressions did dig deep, I guess. For that youth, Milno Enedrasi, lost his arm in the battle. The loss of it made a strange impression on him, I guess, as he turned more malevolent in attitude and with a sprinkle of snark and ass on top. The trauma of losing an appendage looked bad already. I pity him for what he's gone through, the youth should never undergo what pains us soldiers should be facing. And I've read in his dossier, his reason for being here was for 'being with the wrong people'. A paltry excuse to send in a boy. I think I'll make it up to him after I'm done writing this entry.

    I handed over Jim to the medical officers, I don't think he'll recall anything of the mission, seeing him unconscious for most of it. I had to pretend he was still...with us to keep up morale. I didn't know if it worked though.

    Faith, a woman of two years my senior. The Medic. She was the reason we all made it out alive, I think. Considering the rate of deaths, and the loss of our only allied squad that made it through the landing, I assume she has some sort of luck with her moxy. Her attitude is simplistic, friendly and a bit naive, for lack of a word. Like a Guardian Angel.

    Ivan. The stoic one. Haven't heard much from him, but guessing from his age as a fellow Merc, he must be the sort that didn't talk a lot. I think I could learn a few details from him, but it always looks like he's behind this stonewall of thought and emotion.

    I really have to socialize with the rest more.

    Oh, and we've had a sparring practice earlier, knocked myself out against a superior foe, hit by snark by another foe, got a strange blue pill which I have no idea of it's effect and had a wonderful dream.

    Nothing much to report, really. As I am current part of 'The Bastards', as Milno wanted to call the backup-team, I find myself wanting to put down all my emotions and feelings down here. But I guess talking it out with the rest wouldn't hurt. Trust was a precious commodity in the universe, and here in HMRC, we spend it well.

    Met a few green recruits in the ship. Hadn't the time to talk to them though.

Entry Saved

Entry Backlog
Entry I
Entry II
Entry III
Entry IV
Entry V
Entry VI
Entry VII

Feyri looked upon her entry for the third time. She mused to herself to improve her writing style, but this was enough.

Return back to sleep

[Ehndras]

((WAT. Pure Willpower. Jesus, its RAVENOR!))

((Yeah, but there was no other way I could use the mass converter. Ah well. It seems to fit the character, at least. Hey, three mental disorders, not counting OCD...))

((Hey, Ravenor is pretty much a talking psychokinetic brain inside a chair-sized armored tank after they blow up his body in the first part of the Ravenor Omnibus trilogy, so that fits quite nicely. Got to love Warhammer 40k.))

[Caellath]

((...Milno was the one to get the power source by the way. After kicking Faith in the chest.))

[piecewise]

> High Ground.

The screen fades and a new world forms around you. You're standing atop a concrete barrier on a hill somewhere, maybe 15 meters from the gently rolling hill. Around you the remnants of men, shattered space suits and armor, burst chest cavities and slowly cooling blood, all steaming in wintry air. The ground below you is similarly strewn, bodies heaped on barricades and spilling out of ruined trenches. The air is thick with smoke and sky is red, glittering streaks of chrome slash through the haze and rush toward the front lines in the north, a rolling mass of fire and distant noise maybe a mile away. You can see scattered figures out there, blurs in the light of explosions. Things, unimaginably massive things, moving with slow brutality to the east.

Examine control panel. ((How big is it?)) Grab some dirt or leaves or something and head to the large clearing.

(You're in the large clearing specifically right on that red target marker.)
You look at the control panel, which you recognize now to be a Field Manipulator, a thin box about the size of a deck of cards.

Sorry to interrupt, but here's for the waitlist:

Name: John Azat, A.K.A "The Destroyer" (what he calls himself-sometimes)

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Age: 29
Gender: Male
Appearance: 5' 6" tall, he has short black hair, pale skin, and green eyes.
Personal information: He started out as a normal kid, did average in school. Then he "changed" in college- if you count going insane and gaining three mental disorders "changing". He became paranoid, interested in exotic weaponry, and antisocial. He learned about the psychokinetic amplifiers more, and eventually tried to build one- leading to his rampage.
Reason assigned to HMRC: John has a short temper, and holds grudges. For a long time. So, when the local police told him that he couldn't build a giant amplifier inside his apartment, he somehow got hold of a matter converter psychokinetic amplifier. It didn't matter that was an old model when he turned the police officer into a bomb before killing him by stopping his heart, along with several of his buddies. The magistrate barely caught him- turns out he was better with an amplifier than his attempts at science.
Stats:

• Strength: 0
• Dexterity: 0
• Endurance:0
• Charisma: 0
• Intelligence: 0
• Willpower: 20

Skills:

• Handiwork: 1
• Exotic Weapons: 4

Profession: Physimancer

Prefered weapon: Matter Converter Psychokinetic Amplifier

Got it. Lets see how ye' olde min-maxing goes for ya.

"Alright folks, it seems when I blasted that overgrown seed, I fried the organic creature that was creating the illusion with a Field Manipulator. I'm not sure how or why this particular one was disrupting radio signal, but I'm glad we can communicate now. If anyone else has killed one of these fungus monster things and found a field manipulator, let us know. I'm assuming the third secondary objective is another one of these bastards... I'm headed there now to fry the fucker, then we should amass for an assault on the main complex. I'm loathe to discuss what sort of creepy, tentacle-ridden monstrocity it might actually be, but I know this; this place is about to get messy."

Walk in the direction of the final secondary objective, Psyk-Amp at the ready.

((I think I'm going to be a Psyk-Sniper, using my Amp to blast pin-sized holes in enemy's brains from afar, since I don't have any proper weapons. <_< I'd like to explore the possibilities and see what else I can do with these Psyk-Amps and Manipulators.))

You walk toward the final secondary objective, making sure to stay clear of the of the main target. As you draw close you see that there is a wall extending from the temple like main objective and enclosing the final secondary one.

((WAT. Pure Willpower. Jesus, its RAVENOR!))

((Yeah, but there was no other way I could use the mass converter. Ah well. It seems to fit the character, at least. Hey, three mental disorders, not counting OCD...))

((Hey, Ravenor is pretty much a talking psychokinetic brain inside a chair-sized armored tank after they blow up his body in the first part of the Ravenor Omnibus trilogy, so that fits quite nicely. Got to love Warhammer 40k.))

All he needs is an "Avatar of War" suit.

Feyri stopped a while after manually inputting her notes down on the thing, it seemed that she didn't know much about storing personal information where others couldn't see it, due to her memories back in the Mercenary corps. Where everything you own belongs to everyone else...Other than personal clothing.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Date, Unknown. Time, Unknown.
Wish they had a Calendar here just like on Earth.

Entry I

Dear Diary,

     So...first time writing in one, or typing in one, I don't know. This thing has both types of interface so hi diary! Alright, what to say...there was a lot of things I've been through but first page so I think this should be complete with my thoug-

Oh great. I forgot to remove the mental uplink.

Entry Deleted

Dear Diary,

     It was a beautiful mor-

Entry Deleted

Dear Dairy,

Entry Deleted

"Where is that delete button?! Oh, wait. There you are."

Spoiler: Diary (click to show/hide)

Date, Unknown. Time, Unknown.
Wish they had a Calendar here just like on Earth.

Entry I

Dear Diary,

     First entry. nervous as what to say. I am Feyri Nirel, previous leader of the Mercenary band 'Crimson Ire'. Though the name sounds of malicious design, and due to a mercenary's reputation as nothing-but-money-looting-[JERKS], our group was a de facto team working as vigilantes against crime.

    Guess what? I'm currently in the HMRC, short for Hazardous Materials Requisition Corps. Very degrading on my side, especially with the rabble I have to put up with in here. Everyone, as of late, has the wrong impression of me but I've grown accustomed to their antics. All I wanted to do, before being 'convicted' was to pick up a sterling silver penny across the street.

    Yes, Jaywalking got me into this mess. I have to survive about ten grueling missions if I want out, no honourable discharge, no pathway out of this mess; death is the only other option, as I know. The mission that we take conspire against any alien race that Humanity wants to blast away due to warring conflicts. Now, I'm not one to care about war, but this just seems silly: we've enlisted for a vague cause, fighting without knowledge of what race we're exactly fighting. It all seemed irrelevant, my first mission hardened that impression.

     I was in a squad composed of about four five people, including myself (Forgot to add one). A Medic (or Fleshtech, as they term it) named Faith Valentine, another Mercenary named Ivan Yankovichy - not Russian I guess but he was my elder and deserved my stoic respect, Me as another Mercenary, a young man that seemed as a jack-of-all-trades, with no seeming specialties and lastly, a Transhuman, 'Subject 19-3' on the nameplate but going by the name of "Jim". You see the variance straight off, we only had about a few hours time to get to know each other before everything happened.

     So I won't bore you with the first landing -Ok, I will. Nothing else to do here but stare at the ceiling, there aren't any spiders I can watch who weave their webs anyway. The initial drop was composed of about six shuttles, we've lost four to AA fire and the other squad to unknown circumstances. We were the only survivors of that deathtrap, and we were now in another deathtrap on land. How quaint.


     So we landed on an arid piece of rock to scavenge for technology on an 'easy, 10-20% mortality rate' mission. Gravity was low, the lands were composed of towering rock formation, red sand plateaus and mesas then finally, flat land covered with ice. It was a beautiful sight, but shrouded in darkness as the planet's star was...missing. We nearly lost Jim during the initial approach due to a catastrophic defense system, for as the rest of the squad hunkered down on the ground to avoid probable enemy fire, I broke my darn leg while gravity-abseiling down from a tall mountain peak after scouting the area. Just goes to show how mortality weaves it's precious strands, eh?

     Minutes later, we encountered a Sentinel made of steel and silver, it shone as bright as the sun as my light amps reflected against it and was activated by my friends as we explored our target -a geometric pyramid or ruin of an ancient race. In it, we saw beautiful murals that depicted the rise and fall of the civilization before us, uploaded the memory for posterity purposes. All in all, I had to kill the Sentinel before it could kill me allies, I don't know what drove me to do such a stupid act, but it worked.

     I hefted Jim over my shoulder as we made our way across the tomb, for it was to be called so after interpreting the engravings, the place we were in was the last sanctum of an elder civilization. The planet seen in the engraving was protected by a strange dodecahedron-object, the only shield against a star's deathly supernova.

     Getting a painkiller from a friend, we discovered more of the upper regions of the place, and I...somehow got attached to our incapacitated ally. Don't get me wrong, I firmly believe in the phrase 'don't leave anyone behind', but another force drove me to...show my more effeminate emotions. I guess losing everyone else that I knew before this [STUPID] shift of allegiance took a harder toll on me than I knew.

    I'll admit, I broke down at the loss of my former squadmates, I've never seen anyone die before despite my occupational hazards. At least nobody else minded it, much.

    In short, we reached the top floor of the area, broke a few things along the way but met no resistance from the Guardians of the tomb. The top floor was the most exquisite, and by far the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Crystal-like objects were embedded within the walls, and glowed with an eerie silence. With Faith's suggestion, I had to fish out the power source, or that is what I recall it was to finish our search. Handing it over to Faith, I proceeded back as the leading pointman towards our shuttle.

    Then we discovered, the artifact that Faith held, was the only thing keeping the remnants of that race's civilization alive. It was the power source. Those crystals? They were the chambers for whatever surviving creature managed to get into before the catastrophe of their system.

    Now for the important part. It seems that our squad wasn't actually all that bad! First impressions did dig deep, I guess. For that youth, Milno Enedrasi, lost his arm in the battle. The loss of it made a strange impression on him, I guess, as he turned more malevolent in attitude and with a sprinkle of snark and ass on top. The trauma of losing an appendage looked bad already. I pity him for what he's gone through, the youth should never undergo what pains us soldiers should be facing. And I've read in his dossier, his reason for being here was for 'being with the wrong people'. A paltry excuse to send in a boy. I think I'll make it up to him after I'm done writing this entry.

    I handed over Jim to the medical officers, I don't think he'll recall anything of the mission, seeing him unconscious for most of it. I had to pretend he was still...with us to keep up morale. I didn't know if it worked though.

    Faith, a woman of two years my senior. The Medic. She was the reason we all made it out alive, I think. Considering the rate of deaths, and the loss of our only allied squad that made it through the landing, I assume she has some sort of luck with her moxy. Her attitude is simplistic, friendly and a bit naive, for lack of a word. Like a Guardian Angel.

    Ivan. The stoic one. Haven't heard much from him, but guessing from his age as a fellow Merc, he must be the sort that didn't talk a lot. I think I could learn a few details from him, but it always looks like he's behind this stonewall of thought and emotion.

    I really have to socialize with the rest more.

    Oh, and we've had a sparring practice earlier, knocked myself out against a superior foe, hit by snark by another foe, got a strange blue pill which I have no idea of it's effect and had a wonderful dream.

    Nothing much to report, really. As I am current part of 'The Bastards', as Milno wanted to call the backup-team, I find myself wanting to put down all my emotions and feelings down here. But I guess talking it out with the rest wouldn't hurt. Trust was a precious commodity in the universe, and here in HMRC, we spend it well.

    Met a few green recruits in the ship. Hadn't the time to talk to them though.

Entry Saved

Entry Backlog
Entry I

Feyri looked upon her entry for the third time. She mused to herself to improve her writing style, but this was enough.

Return back to sleep

You go back to sleep, wondering if you might have some sort of sleeping disorder.

[Scelly9]

((I meant the other clearing. So, the main target))

Head to the main target.

[Caellath]

Got to love Warhammer 40k.))

((Yes, I was planning on checking if the armory could happen to have a chainsword for some tokens. They do have non-standard equipment. Even if not, a Tesla Sabre can fulfill my melee homicidal impulses just fine, I guess.))

[Ehndras]

"...Shit. Hey, is anyone else near the final secondary? Apparently its surrounded by a thick wall that connected to the primary complex. I'm not sure how we're getting in... If only someone brought explosives."

Walk closer and examine the walls, walking perpendicularly to them and searching for sentries, openings, or markings.

[Scelly9]

"You get one of these Field Manipulator things? Try and melt it"

[Ehndras]

"I'm going to try something. If you find my fried, braindead corpse by the wall, then I failed."

Mason activates for the Psychokinetic Amp AND the Field Manipulator, attempting to meld both forces into a more powerful tool with which to cut through the wall somehow, or simply dig under it.

[Scelly9]

"Just so you know, I'm looting your body"

[Caellath]

((That is not advisable. Einsteinian Roulette: Grim Dark + Black Comedy. It could only get better if we threw some Dead Baby jokes inside.
Edit: Ooops ranting. What I mean is that you should not try to use both weapons.))

[Tiruin]

...Dead Baby jokes inside.))

((Not for me D:

Still, loving the narrative! Tesla Sabre!))

[Zako]

I imagine their conversation going a bit like this:

"I'm going to try and rend reality apart so we can get past this wall. If I die, you can have my boots."

"Cool."