Forums » Sci-Fi Roleplay » Comfortably Numb (Semi Open, Ask First)

(Ill let jake handle that since I'm honestly too lazy to try to recount everything that's happened so far xD)
(And realism. Who needs it? )

Josh shrugged, having just offered a simple helpful suggestion and deciding not to pursue the topic further. He was a geek, yes, he accepted the fact fully. But memorizing an entire survival handbook by heart could be handy, ya?
Randall pondered it a moment longer, thinking carefully. "I don't think so. We didn't have much crap to begin with and we only need to drag around the stuff we absolutely need in case we have to run really fast." Although hell, if they needed to run really fast then Josh would be totally screwed, what with his bad leg and all.

(Maybe? I'm actually depressed to a point where I don't want to do anything. So, I'm going to just hang out for a bit. I'll try my best to help you guys out, K?

Awww, who the hell am I shitting? I gotta stop throwing pity parties for myself.

So here's the deal: The Russians started a nuclear war, they're invading now, and Jacob and the Twins are going to find Vladimir, kill him, and try to escape. Josh is a medic, Randall is a sniper in training. Jacob's been through a whole helluva lot in his life, and is on the verge of collapsing into a raging, phsycotic mess.

The Russians are nearing the stage where they can effectively launch an offensive against the resistance. That's where this comes in. On that verge.)

"If we get to the point where we have to run, we really should just accept the fact that we are screwed. So, that's why I'm bringing a lot of guns. So we don't have to get to that point." Jacob chuckled, and hoisted the pack on his back. "Get some rest. We're leaving in the morning."

Randall shrugged; the reasoning was solid, although he really did prefer running to fighting. There was a greater chance of survival if he just ran. But he was a sniper and Jacob was pretty capable so hopefully it wouldn't come to that.
Josh nodded, arching his back in a stretch and hauling himself up the ladder to the nest for the night. The ladder was a pain, but on the bright side, at least he was developing upper body strength since he couldn't rely on his feet that much.
"G'night," he called to his brother and Jacob, curling up and drifting off.
This was going to be interesting.

(I thought Spartans were supersoldiers... They have over shields and even without them they can take a lot of damage. Oh, well...

@HRA I didn't realize you suffered from depression. Thanks for being with us despite that fact! And also thanks for the summary of what's happening, lol. I'll jump in now. I'm assuming you guys are holed up somewhere in a makeshift base?)

If one listened closely, they might hear the soft mewing of a cat. Or perhaps two. Or four...

(I vote no on anything out of setting. Then again, who am I to complain? I've got the mysterious time traveling being over here.

But srlsly tho, plz dnt)

(I honestly have no idea what a spartan is, since I'm a derp and don't really study these kinds of things. Therefore I can't really add anything to this debate. You guys decide amongst yourselves, I'll sit here in the corner and play with curiosity's cats. )

So... We doing this thing or what?

((Yes, we are! Sorry! I was waiting for the new guys to post. . BTW, you're welcome. I'll try to get as much in as I can. As for the Spartan thing? I'd say yes to all the amazing addons, IF they were on the Russian side, since I sort of have a sort of over powered enemy battle coming up.
Lucy, that sounds really wrong.
Jacob is a General. Major General Robbins. ))

"G'night to you, too," Jacob said, and stared into the ceiling of his little secluded nest. High up in the air, a view of the city, and a gun besides him. Now all he needed was a woman. But seeing as he was short on some thing such as charm, that would be quite hard. But tomorrow they needed to move out, and fast. They had a jeep with a .50 on it, so that would help with their movement.

The mewing grew more dense throughout the night. Not necessarily louder, but more and more cats' cries could be heard throughout the night.

The next morning arrived quickly, and Randall would wake up to a grey cat shoving its face into his own.

Dante had spent the night checking his armor and guns. He had three 5 shot magazines for his rifle in the hard case on his left calf and three 7 shot magazines for his pistol in the one on the right. He had the pistol secured to his lower back and he would carry the rifle. When Dante finished his preparations he sat on his bunk, squeaking as he set his weight on it, and fell asleep rifle laying across his lap.

(Shut up, jake xD I like cats and they're fun to play with)

Randall grumbled unhappily and tried shoving it away at first, still half asleep. When that didn't work, he opened his eyes crankily to find the cat's face inches from his own.
"WHOA!" he yelped, bolting into a sitting position, startled. "What- where'd all these cats come from?"
Josh was already petting a little ginger tabby that had crawled into his lap, coping to it happily as he fluffed its thick orange pelt and smoothed it out again. "Good little kitty- oh, it was funny to watch that one. It seemed determined to wake you up, I'm actually surprised you didn't wake up sooner."
"Where did all these cats come from," Randall repeated with a deadpan expression, raising an eyebrow at the grey cat.

(You know my name, lucy, so why the heck don't I know yours?
Dante, I'm getting to ya! )
"What the? Cats? I thought this place was more barren than the moon!" Jacob exclaimed, and shot upright. He could see lots of cats around him, but he picked up the one closest to him. So soft. He liked cats, but it was rather weird as to why they were here. "You okay? I'm not sure where they came up, though. Seems like they just... appeared,"

"So did I," he mumbled, sighing and scratching the back of his head. "I'm really confused."
"Can we keep one?" Josh asked, looking rather pleased with the ginger tabby he held in the crook of his arm like a fluffy basket. "I really like this one."
"How are we gonna keep a cat?" Randall pointed out, popping his brother's balloon somewhat. "We're leaving today anyways."
"Oh... Oh yeah. I forgot about that." He scratched the cat's ears absentmindedly, his face falling again. "Dangit."

"Yeah, we can keep one. Give it to the guy in charge here. He'll watch over them for you. But wait here. I gotta go get Dante, and talk to him for a bit, K?" Jacob said, and hopped down from his nest, gun banging on his back. He walked down the hall, and got to Dante's room, knocking on it. "Dante? You in?"

As soon as Jacob left to talk to Dante, the cats began moving out. One by one they slowly disappears running this way and that, finding places to hide or even leaving the building.

"Rude," a distinctly female voice came from directly behind Randall's head.

"I watched you all night, y'know. You seem awfully grumpy, even when you're asleep. Maybe you should take anger lessons."

The woman behind him had curly red hair, and a tan complexion. Her eyes sparkled a dazzling green, and her face was perfectly round: Nothing was too protruding, but nothing was too thin or bony, either.

The same could be said for the rest of her. She wore a black babydoll t-shirt that read:
"Also, I can kill you with my brain." In plain white text.

Her pants were dark (and I mean DARK) blue skinny jeans. She held what appeared to be the Diamond Sword from the popular video game Minecraft in her right hand.

Her apparent age was somewhere between 17-21. She stood just about a head taller than Randall, around the same height as Jacob.

The woman giggled, cocked her head to the left, puckered out her lower lip, and furrowed her eyebrows. "Does somebody need a hug?"

Obviously something was very wrong with her. And how'd she appear so fast? Where did all the cats go?

Dante awoke to his name being called, jumping off the bed and landing with a thud louder then expected, he swung the door open. He was in his full suit when he opened the door, and when he saw it was Jacob he saluted "Sir!"

"I probably won't need coffee now that you've yelled that loud," Jacob said, saluting back. He wasn't here for formalities. Frankly, when they were not in sight of anyone else, he didn't need to be saluted. But it was still a nice thing to see that some people still respected rank. "At ease. I'm gonna get tired of being saluted. A word to the wise, when we're out there, try not to salute me. It tends to attract fire. But the real reason I'm here is to ask you if you're ready,"

((I'm going to change the number of clips to 5 for the riffle))
Double checking his weaponry he grabbed the knife off of a shelf and put it in the sheath on his left shoulder, "yes sir, I'm ready to go. Unless you would suggest bringing a bag of ammo, I have 30 rounds for my riffle and 28 for the pistol." Oddly, as Jacob noticed, the riffle had no scope.

"Well, depending on how this goes, I'd bring a backpack, and put some extra things in it. 30 and 28 are ideal for small, light missions. And the fact that it's a 12.7mm, and probably 9mm, might make it harder. But what I found, was that a backpack comes in handy quite well, actually," Jacob said, and let his backpack and gun fall to the floor. The gun was a back clip gun, with a shortened barrel, and in gun recoil system, like the field guns did.

On the side of the stock, and rifle itself, were packs containing ammunition. Around five clips, including the one inside the gun, were currently in use. That was around 25 rounds of ammunition, and not counting the rounds on his chest. He opened up his backpack, and inside was an amazing sort of everything. Thompson drum rounds, clips for the four different guns he carried on him, and shotgun shells.

"That, my friend, is how you carry ammo. Very hard, but you'll learn, sometime. I also have two drum clips for my thompson attatched to my sides, pistol clips, and a Siega in a sheath."