I believe my crunch is finished, so here's Loup Blanc's submission for the game. Backstory stuff coming up later today; other than that, I think I'm only waiting on a response to my above question about martial traditions.
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I'd like to continue, if we can.
Brian, realizing Cromwell's plan as the power is downed, quietly moves to a corner of the gunnery room, double-checking his rifle to make sure it's ready, then slinging it to his back and drawing the shotgun... before deciding to drop that, as well. Finally, he draws the small combat axe he requisitioned from the armory, testing its heft, and choosing it for its lethality and silence. He also draws his combat knife, holding it close to his side.
"Eh... right." Brian snaps off the comms. "Old song, he can shove it up his..." The SPARTAN gives general grumbling like this for a few seconds, then goes back to humming and finger-tapping, leaving the communications off for a few minutes before, looking at it with a mixture of resentment and guilt, he snaps the set on again.
Brian waits patiently in the gunner seat, tapping his fingers and humming what might vaguely be picked up as Extreme's "Midnight Express".
"Roger that, Sergeant," Brian says, redonning his helmet and nodding to the others. He moves to the port turret and gets in position, taking a moment to sight down the gun before leaning back. If there's any sort of comms system on-board the Grace, the SPARTAN hooks into it and says, "This is SPARTAN-213, testing, testing... Call back if you're glad we have auto-pilot this time around, people..." Brian chuckles. "Just digging you, Grave, I wouldn't want to be here without you."
"Oh, believe me," Brian says, holding out his hands and nodding to GeeGee and Ram'Dain, "the stuff is great. Hell, if I could use it, you can bet your ass I would. But a lot of it gets beyond me--or at least, I'm not sure what exactly it does. And let's face it: accidentally blowing your hand off isn't a great way to end a career." The SPARTAN points to Ram'Dain. "Though I have no doubt you're sure what you're up to"
"Ha, no offense taken, Grave. Ram can use a level of tech that I'm not as familiar with. I prefer a good old-fashioned medpac to all that Forerunner stuff."
"I'm a good CO, I guess," Brian says. "Also, I have medical training, and I'm a CQC special operative, on occasion. A bit of everything, with a focus on getting my team in and out alive." He grins. "I'm told that's what makes me a good CO."
Brian rolls his eyes as Georgette and Batista walk off to stow her gear. Great... The SPARTAN's keen senses could pick up the body language and gestures from the woman. Sighing, he turns to watch Cudley and Charlotte. "Hey, watch out for the things," Brian says, drawing his own swords but not igniting them. He tosses one to Charlotte. "They cut through just about everything, even shields."
"I believe that information is--" Brian pauses to clear his throat and approximate Cromwell's gruff tone--" 'classified.' " The SPARTAN removes his helmet and smiles at the new arrival, shaking his hair loose from the confines of the armor. "Brian-213 here. Not sure if I'm in command here or not." He offers a hand to the new woman. "Good to have you on the team, GeeGee. Any specialties? I see you've got a sniper."
"It's fine, Grave. I understand." The SPARTAN turns to Elwood. "None taken, Cudley. Like I said, I'm no hardass."
"Relax, Grave, I was kidding." Brian does raise his hands and bow his head in concession, though. "I know that, I live by it, Officer Grave. My rank doesn't really matter to me; honestly, I wonder if it wasn't an accident that I got it."
Brian also laughs at Grave. "Hey, Petty Officer isn't a bad rank. 'Course, it's even nicer with 'Master Chief' before it, but you know how it is." He also turns to Charlotte. "Y'know, I think that's the first time I've heard a SPARTAN giggle," Brian says, then shakes his head and laughs to himself once more. "You lot are bad for my hardass commander image."
Brian laughs. "I'm pretty sure that you all lost, the next morning if not that night."
"Smart girl," Brian says. "Last thing we'd need is our resident scientist shooting himself or someone else by accident." Brian winks at the Sang'heili, his tone light and joking.
"Target?" Brian overhears Charlotte's comment. "You folks went down to the range?" The MCPO smirks. "And this was before, or after you got... how to put this... blitzed out of your heads?"
"Indeed," Brian says. "And if this ship's as fast as you say it is, then we should be able to catch up to them quickly enough." With this Brian dons his helmet and moves to stand by the door to the cockpit, one hand resting on the stock of his assault rifle.
Brian walks up as Ram is scolded by Cromwell. "Hold on, sergeant, there's no need to be so rough. Ram's got a good heart, and a good head, from what I can tell... I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding." The Master Chief is wearing his own armor, a MJOLNIR Mark VII model, with his helmet under his left arm. His hair has been swept back this morning, and is actually held in a small, tight ponytail at the base of his skull. He has his field pack and weapons on as well. Brian steers Ram'Dain into the ship itself. "Be a little more careful, though, my Sang'heili friend," Brian tells the Elite under his breath. "Cromwell may be a little high-strung, but he's not exaggerating. This mission is rather classified... Although why his ship is, I'm not exactly certain," Brian adds with a glance around the interior of the vessel. "As for its speed, I'm not certain, but it sure doesn't make anything else look like 'junk' to me."
I'm still here!!!
I'm ready whenever.
Brian meets up with the team along the way to the briefing. "You know, I heard about the antics you lot got into after leaving the mess that night... And all I can say is, good job, folks!" Brian snickers and shakes his head, smiling good-heartedly inside his helmet. In the briefing room, Brian nods to the Major: "Nice to see you off parole, Major." Brian listens closely and attentively to both the Colonel and Sergeant Cromwell, his weight evenly dispersed and his back straight, but with his arms crossed. He frowns slightly as Cromwell mentions the expedition to Paradise--I thought that was classified--but he gives no outward motion to show any surprise. After the Colonel closes, Brian moves forward to Cromwell. "Good to meet you, Sergeant. I've heard about you before--and none of it bad. It's an honor to serve with you on this mission."
Makes sense. I second Ram's questions. Also, sorry about my erratic posting. Apparently, the hectic stuff that's been happening IRL coincided with the boards resetting the dots... Anyway, I'm back.
"I'll friend you, Ram! You can be my "Sang'heili Friend," and then I can get away with all sorts of jokes..."
So is anyone gonna post in Gameplay? By the way, sorry about the absence: I was traveling this weekend, and my assumption that I'd be able to get on as normal was incorrect. On a related note, I'm not sure how often I'll be able to post in the upcoming days: RL is being crappy right now, and I may be unable to be on much. DMPC Brian as necessary, if Gameplay continues during my absence. I can catch up and work with whatever happens while I'm away.
Interestingly enough, I'm in another PBP where I believe we have maybe one or two males in a party of five or six.
I'd make a comment on what situation having one female could get us in, but Brian was only commenting on her in the beginning of the Discussion thread. He's a bit too professional as a Commanding Officer to do that sort of thing.
We might've...
Brian eats and drinks quietly and attentively as Grave tells his story. He's about to speak when Ram picks up his things and dashes off, which makes him chuckle for a moment. He reopens the laptop, and then leans forward, crossing his arms on the table, and looks at Grave. "Major, I'm sure you will. That's... I'm sorry about your loss. Terrible things happen all the time, and it sounds like you've seen your share. I'm usually the one who gets sent in after they've already started to happen; hell, I was MilPol for a little while, and that was an eye-opener..." Brian trails off, then shakes his head and continues. "I guess what I'm trying to say is... Good luck." The last words are weak, as though the SPARTAN isn't sure what to say. Looking a little sheepish, he takes a swig of his soda and starts to type once again.
Brian laughs. "Yeah, there's been a lot of comments on the names we give things. I myself still think the Warthog is the most misnamed... But what can we do?" He eats a couple more bites of food, then looks at Ram. "Family? My parents, of course. Dad works for the UNSC, but I don't get to see him much; he's more in research than anything I'm doing these days. Mom gets called in every now and then, but she usually stays on Earth." He gives a little sad smile. "I don't get to see them very often. We keep in touch as much as we can... Dad seems fine with it. He always wanted me to join up somehow; SPARTANhood was just an extra option we found. Mom was a little more protective, against it in a way; it hits her harder. So I try to keep up with her when I can." Brian shrugs and looks to Grave. "What about you, Grave? You got a family?"
Brian raises an eyebrow as Ram pulls out the PDA. "Before I start, I'm just letting you know, I'm gonna speak frankly and off the record, here, okay? Don't take this as the general view of SPARTANs or anything, and if you use this with higher-ups to damage me..." The man shakes his head with a smile, nodding to Grave as he moves over as well. "I'm not trying to threaten or anything, just covering my ass." The SPARTAN takes a moment to save the work on his computer before shutting it. He takes a sip of his drink--looks like cola--and leans back. "Like I said, I'm not as strong or durable as a lot of SPARTANs. Not as tall or thick, either. But that's not to say it didn't affect my muscles at all. I'm a good deal quicker than your average human, both in general speed as well as reaction time. Natural gymnast, quick draw, general good speed... most of the time." Brian leans forward, dropping his voice a bit, almost like a conspirator. "And it improved my senses. I can see and hear things a lot better than most. Helps in the field, both with locating enemies and patching up wounds. I can tell what the seriousness is pretty quickly; makes being a medic a lot easier."
"Sushi and meatballs, huh? Strange, how some things carry from culture to culture, even across space and time..." Brian shakes his head, and takes a bite of his food while Ram'Dain comments on his appearance. "Haha, yeah, well, I think that was more metaphor and hyperbole than anything else," Brian says with a chuckle. "SPARTANs are tough, but we're not demons." He pauses for a moment, looking down at the food thoughtfully. "Yeah, you're right. I'm not as big as most like me. Never was." He shrugs, a small smile crossing his face. "Doctors said it was probably my age. I got the treatment a good deal later than most; I was twelve, I can still sort of remember it, even. But who knows? I think the docs just grabbed onto whatever was there." Brian taps his fork against the table. "But hey, it's not all bad. I got some extra stuff out of it that most don't."
Haha, indeed.
"Oh, you know." He looks down at the plate, grinning a little. "What can I say? You don't sign on to the UNSC for the food. But it's not bad." The man does pinch a piece of lettuce between two fingers, holding it up to the light and looking through the pale translucence. "What I'd do for some romaine, though..." He shakes his head and looks back to Ram'Dain. "What're you having there? That Sang'heili?" You might notice that it's strange to see the SPARTAN without his armor--he really doesn't look like a genetically altered super-human. Instead, he just seems to be a tall, muscular man, not much different than you might expect of an ODST or a Marine.
Brian's wearing cargo pants and a t-shirt displaying what looks like a very old name of a group, or maybe even an animal: "Def Leppard". He's eating a plate that's about half-covered in meat, and half in salad, and he's eating it very slowly as he also types on a laptop and occasionally snickers. Seeing Grave come in, Brian waves him over, but doesn't force the Major if he prefers to sit alone.
Oh, I can see some great RP continuing in this campaign...
Hah, that's fine. I was just giving you a hard time, Grave!
"Doesn't seem like that's gonna happen, Major," Brian says, also glaring at the Jackal. "And, just so you know, the name's Brian. Not Brain." - - - - - The SPARTAN is the first to get off the Pelican, saluting smartly to the Colonel as he dismounts. "Sir," he says, standing to the higher-up's side and watching the others leave the ship. "Yeah, he's a talkative one, but we didn't get much out of him. Didn't help that the genial Major over there is the only one who can speak the language." Brian shakes his head, then removes his helmet and nods to the Colonel. "Yep, I'll get that to you, no worries." To the team, the Master Chief says, "Good work out there, men, Charlotte. A pleasure working with you. At ease, and get some rest." Brian then heads off to his quarters, where he removes his armor and does some cool-down exercises. After this, he heads down to the mess hall to get some dinner.
"Agreed," Brian says. "Little bastard was squawking all night, who knows what he was saying..." The MCPO shakes his head and replaces his helmet. "Alright, team, let's get out of here, there's nothing left to be done. Sweep to make sure we've got everything we need, and I want that prisoner restrained and guarded at all times. Major, you can inform me of his information on the way back. Auto-pilot should get us home safely, but be ready to override if something goes awry." With that, the SPARTAN boards the Pelican, placing his weapons in racks and stretching, his back audibly cracking under the armor.
"Very funny, Grave," Brian says as the major staggers in. Noticing the odd gait, the MCPO quirks his eyebrow up, removing his helmet so Grave can see his expression. "What, rough ride there, flyboy?" Brian grins and says, "Hope there's AI for the flight back to Harbinger." Then Brian claps Grave and Ram'Dain on the shoulder, guiding Grave deeper into the ship. "Major, correct me if I'm wrong, but I seem to remember that your portfolio mentioned you speak Jackal..."
One of my go-to things when I get on the computer is Paizo. First open Pandora if I'll be on for a bit, second is Paizo. I check the forums pretty much every day, unless I'm in a situation where I really can't.
"Huh," Brian says, moving to the porthole where Brendan's watching the ship depart. "Strange..." Brian takes shifts with the others to watch the Jackal through the night, resting fitfully and doing exercises when it's not his turn. If the other members of the crew want to pass the time with cards or sparring, he's happy to do that, but he always keeps at least one pistol on hand in case the Jackal gets loose. "Jeez, I wonder what the Colonel's gonna say..." he murmurs when the Pelican gets close enough that they can hear it.
Brian curses as the rest of the pirates flee the ship, but he can't help grinning as the jackal turns, terrified. "Lieutenant Cudley, if you'd be so kind as to take priority over our unexpected guest?" the SPARTAN says, idly pointing a pistol at the jackal's head until Cudley moves forward. "Alright, friend," Brian says to the pirate, "you've managed to get yourself in a load of trouble. I'm very interested in hearing your story..." First, though, Brian turns to the others on the vessel. "Alright, I want that body searched, weapons checked, everything gone over. Stay alert, people; I don't want to be surprised if those pirates come back. Corporal, you're a sniper, right? Keen eyes: tell me what that ship looks like." With that, the Master Chief returns his helmeted gaze to the jackal, the reflective visor giving away nothing of his pensive expression. Let's see what we can learn...
"Damn!" Brian curses as the jackals activate shields and fire at him, feeling the plasma bolts' dull thuds into his own defenses. He considers moving to cover, but then watches as Elwood charges in and slashes the shields from one jackal, even as Charlotte blasts away the other's defense. Grinning under his helmet, Brian follows Cudley's suit: he drops his pistols, not having time to holster them , then charges the same jackal as the lieutenant, drawing and activating his energy swords as he does so .
Fumbles are fun when they happen to someone else... But I like your call.
Brian waits until the Jackals have moved further into the ship, glancing at the fellow members of the team, before stepping out into the open, preferably behind the pirates. He keeps one gun trained expertly on each Jackal, and calls out, "Stop right there! UNSC!" If either Jackal moves to attack or otherwise react hostilely, Brian doesn't hesitate to open fire.
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