At the bottom deck Krushevski had a few marines set up a full House breaching situation. Complete with a bare bones 1 story house layout and multiple targets in each room. He would run the course and open it to others for training.

OOC: come to practice CQB.

The participants were round up in the lockers and everyone in the ship was encouraged to watch the competition in the spectators room overlooking the training area. Counselor Niall clicked the loudspeaker on for all to hear.

“Alright folks, welcome to the first annu- FiVE FUCKING PEOPLE? THATS IT?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Ok so I suppose this is how this will go:

Round 1 will consist of: Agent Hove vs. Agent Charleston and Agent Lisle vs. Agent Moscow. Sorry Agent Perth, you'll be sitting this one out.

Before Round 2, the two losing participants of Round 1 will fight for a chance at redemption. Round 2 will then consist of the winners of Round 1, the winner of the Redemption Round, and Agent Perth, then we move onto the final round. “

Also, participants will be tagged into their own threads so wait up if you see this early.

Edit: I'm making the time limit on late responses 48 hours, so if you go that long without responding you'll be disqualified IC. This currently only applies to round 1 and is subject to change

Charleston stepped out of the mess hall, feeling satisfied with his dinner he just enjoyed. From there he walked out to the armory and looked around at all of the weapons he would potentially be using for the upcoming tournament. He grabbed an Assault Rifle off of the rack, and inspected it, looking for any weapon flaws that would decrease the first shot accuracy or slow down the bullets as they exited the barrel. While he was inspecting it, he glanced around the entire armory and realized that he had never had a chance to practice since joining Project Terminus. So, he gathered as many weapons as he could and headed down to the training room so he could practice with every weapon.

After several trips from the armory to the training room, and back, Charleston had finally gathered one of every type of weapon, as well as one clip from every weapon. He set up the simulation targets, sorted his weapons onto little pillars so he could have ease of access, and set the simulation to begin in ten seconds.

10

His finger rested on the safety of the MA5B in his hand

9

He slowed his breathing down

8

7

6

He turned the safety off

5

4

3

He brought the gun up to his shoulder

2

1

BEGIN

Wasting no time, Charleston began shooting at the targets sitting about ten feet from him, using only two bullets for each target.

24 targets eliminated

”Dammit, I need to improve on that,” He thought to himself. He tossed the MA5B to the side, then quickly picked up a DMR.

TRAINING COMPLETE

At the end of the training session, he had hit 84% of all of his targets. His best scores came while he was using his personal battle rifle and magnums. His worst scoring came while he was using the SRS and DMR.

He picked up every weapon he had used and took them all back to the armory. From there he headed to the mess hall to grab another bite to eat.

Agents were called into the briefing room for a brief announcement. Once inside there would be a blonde guy with long hair that reaches down to his shoulders and a chinstrap beard.

“Sup everyone, I’m counselor Niall, and I’ll be organizing our first ever tournament.” He was certainly louder and more enthusiastic than the Director, like a gym instructor almost.

“Before anyone starts whining, know that it’s totally optional, with that out of the way, here’s how it works. You’ll sign up for the tournament and then your name is thrown in a bracket where you’ll compete against a random opponent or group of opponents. These fights could range from one on one hand to hand fights to free for all shootouts with more than two competitors so you’ll have to be on your toes. Now it is optional but that doesn’t mean participating will go unrewarded. Depending on your performance and how far you go, you will get points to your leaderboard. And since it is optional we’ve decided not to make it negatively affect your score so you can only benefit from trying. You can enlist through your tacpads if you’re interested, any questions?”

OOC: First round of the tournament will be on Monday the 23rd, each round will be its own post and take place separately so that participants aren't held hostage until the very end of the tournament not like anyone would be doing anything in that time anyway. This event will also be far more strict with slow replies and participants will lose by default if they go without responding for a certain amount of time that I haven't decided yet.

So I understand that I phrased my last post on this subject was rude and I understand that it was agresive and i did not intend for it to be that way, so to the mods I am sorry, i was frustrated and had forgotten that this was a side almost hobby that you do. I would like to rephrase the question so that I might get a better response to a better question. I know that all of us are wondering when the next mission will be and why it has been so long since a mission, i was hoping to get some answers for the community. I would be grateful if you could answer this, if not I understand, due to my outburst in my last comment. Again I apologize and hope that all of us can get the subreddit back on its feet.

Sincerely,

Carter Cobb

P.S. I have since deleted the last post on this subject due to the tone of the post.

Amarah sat in one of the Hubs many classrooms, his legs kicked up onto one of the tables while he leaned back against the chair, while doing so he seemed to be scrolling down a holographic panel, reading through his contents as he did. Occasionally he’d let out a sigh, stretch his arms and crack his knuckles, the uncomfortable snapping noise emitting from this action was the only thing to break the silence. He’d then lean back returning his attention back to the panel, picking up where he’d left off, in truth Amarah hated this kind of thing, it was too quiet for him. Silently he hopes that something, anything would happen to disrupt the almost maddening silence.

Are we ever going to get a new mission or event, mods please explain. Others feel free to post how you feel about the long wait.

Smithville sits in the lounge drinking while waiting for something to happen anything at this point

Krushevski’s eye flies open. He looks around, nothing, he’s in the barracks, just a bad dream he thinks. Krushevski opens his PDA and looks at the time, “00:23, shit its late,” he whispers to himself, he gets up and gets dressed in his armor, leaving his helmet. He starts to head down to the bottom floor. He walks outside, feeling the recycled air on his face. He heads to a railing and just leans against it in the dark.

Krushevski walks into the gym, he immediately starts looking for the bikes, when he finds them he puts on an oxygen mask and starts biking, 5, 10, 15 miles. The time flys by as he feels the burn, he likes it though, it reminds him that he is human to, if he wasn’t human he wouldn’t feel the burn in his muscles. He keeps going, 20, 30 he stops at 50 and heads to the punching bags, he doesn’t even put gloves on, 5, 10, 15 minutes go by. After 20 he takes a break and just sits there. He gets up to get water and then just sits back down, sweat pouring down his face, he sits.

Krushevski walks to the building Fort told him the armory was, he follows the signs and eventually comes to a door labeled armory. Krushevski hurries inside and starts scanning the walls identifying what types of weapons they had here, he is impressed with the assortment of everything from the M6 magnum and BR55, to the System 99 Anti Material Rifle and the AIE-486 H heavy machine gun, even the M41 SPNKR and a few type 25 grenade launchers. Krushevski settles on the M392 DMR and a Silenced M7 Case-less SMG “nice” Krushevski says to himself as he admires the effort put into maintaining these guns, he also grabs, with such a grenade variety, a Flash-bang grenade and 2 M9 High-Explosive dual purpose grenades. He starts looking for the cleaning kit for his rifle.

Raleigh didn't like running within the confines of a treadmill and preferred the old-fashioned way, the old-fashioned way being jogging through a city inside of a massive spaceship housing millions of people within metal walls. In the middle deck, jazz played in his ears as he waved at people when passing by them.

Yes you can interact.

Sounds. The mechanical voice over the loudspeaker, hundreds of conversations across the station, the door sliding open, the pneumatic hiss of the brakes. Meaningless sounds, muted and filtered out. Fort focused only on two things as he stepped onto the platform, his breathing, and comms.

"Alright, train is clear, give me statuses. Naples?"

"In position, target is yet to make an appearance from my vantage."

"Keep me advised, and be sure to make sure you've got a round chambered in that rifle of yours this time-" muttered curses as the sound of a bolt sliding was heard "-Tampa?"

"Heavy ordinace primed and on standby. No funny business this time, ya hear?"

"Yeah, yeah." Fort snapped his fingers, a reflexive habit no one was sure where he picked up. "Settle down, class, it's-"

Fort placed his helmet down to the side and leaned out over the railing. Not many people seemed to realize, but the views of the lower deck from the edge looking in were quite the sight to behold. Oddly enough, this over crowded section was the best place to seek solace from all the activity of human life.

"Naples, Tampa, and now..." His thoughts turned back to the medbay. The stasis chambers, and the new resident of one. Fort sighed as he brought one hand up to his forehead. "That's three now... How did it come to this?"

"You know exactly how, boyo." A voice from behind him spoke, one Fort had missed for quite some time now. Tampa. "We chose to fight. To stand tall and never back down. We all knew the risks. You've dedicated yourself to maximizing success chances, and yet, you're still as blind as you were years ago. The truth isn't that simple. Now, put your best behaviour on-"

Fort forced a smile and put his helmet back on, snapping his fingers. "It's showtime."

Terminus - Hub - Med Bay

Hove rolled around uncomfortably in his sleep. Though treated, the plasma burns hadn't ceased to ache, a slow dull pain seeping into his shoulder.

City of Fortitude - Solitary Moon - 3 hours before incident

The train rattled across the monorail as it passed through the city. Its passengers shifted uncomfortably in the warm, stale air. The last carriage of the train was empty, save for the three military police officers in the back corner.

After an uncomfortably long silence, one of the officers, seemingly the youngest, spoke up. "Ugh... why couldn't we just take one of the warthogs?"

"We don't exactly have a choice right now," the gruff, older man began to respond.

Owen Page stared out of the window as the other two argued. Watching the city go by was the only way to curb the motion sickness that came with the mixture of the rickety public transport, and the dead air of the old carriage's faulty air conditioning system.

As the train passed through the city centre, they travelled past the few skyscrapers of the city. Owen closed his eyes and enjoyed the brief release from the nauseating heat of the sunlight, basking in the shadows of the concrete towers. His eyelids were soon pierced again by rays of midday light. They fluttered open to see the gap between two buildings, perfectly framing in the rays of light that broke through the clouds, a pelican flying through the city.

Owen half tuned back in to the ongoing argument beside him hearing the rookie say, "well I understand that, but it's not like using public transport will make it seem like there are any less of us right now."

"That's not the point," The Sergeant responded, "It's about taking the necessary measures without causing panic in the general populace."

Owen zoned back out almost instantly, something was bothering him, and it wasn't hearing the same argument he'd had to listen to for the last three days. It was the pelican. It had struck him as very odd that there would be a pelican so far from either of the two spaceports in the first place. However, after a moment's thought, he arrived upon the detail that had been irritating him; the pelican had been green, the standard military variant, not the police issue one that could occasionally be seen throughout the city. His thought process was suddenly and unceremoniously interrupted by a sharp pain in his shin.

"Have you been paying attention, Page, or do I have to explain it again for you too?"

Owen looked up at the Sergeant, his leg recoiling from the light kick. "No need, Sir, I understand the situation."

"Very well then, that makes one of you." The Sergeant replied, turning his attention back to the rookie, "now then, as I was saying..."

Owen returned his gaze to the window. He understood the situation as well as seemingly anyone else. All long range comms had been cut off just about four days ago, nobody seemed to know exactly why, the general assumption was that terrorists were at fault. However unlikely that was, the MP's had needed to increase their presence in the city as a precaution. That meant a difficult transition from his normal routine of killing time and doing nothing much, to long gruelling hours of patrols, listening to the constant bickering of a rookie who didn't know any better, and a Sergeant who had never held any real responsibility for anything in his career thus far.

The worst part was that the sudden change of pace had meant that he'd only spent a couple of hours with Alex in the last few days. He tried to concentrate on thinking about the pelican again. It had looked like it had mounted weapons aboard, that was unusual for a police pelican, and flying so low in the city too. He wished he'd seen more than a glimpse of it, that would have saved him questioning if he even saw it in the first place. Could the UNSC be sending additional military forces to Solitary? Could that mean it actually was a terrorist attack?

Owen's mind wandered back to Alex. He just wished he could be back in bed again. He missed having the boring days of doing basically nothing, sneakily visiting Alex at work... having most of those attempts cut short by the annoyingly observant receptionist, but most of all just lying in bed at the end of the day and hearing about Alex's day. Owen had a distinct feeling that his day would get weirder.

Terminus - Hub - Med Bay

Hove woke up with a jolt. He carefully lifted his helmet from face to wipe away the tears with his numb hand. He then put the helmet back on and walked out of the med bay. He can be found standing alone, looking out over the top deck.

Hove is sitting on a bed in the med bay, his plasma burns neatly bandaged and his arm in a sling. Hove's helmet, as ever, remains atop his head as he hums away the boring wait.

It was inevitable, really. A mission has agents clashing with covenant forces, an alien has a weird gun you think is neat. The mod team just thought it would be a good idea to make sure it's out in the open how this will all work.

When your off on a mission, and there's some shiny tech that your character would nab for use, well, that A-OK. No need to avoid grabbing something, possibly breaking character, because you might not get permission to have it. Now, this is important, you could just hocus pocus something into a box, or on the floor, it needs to have been established by the mod running the event that x tech, or y weapon is there. You also can't break character. A (spoiler) xenophobe like Newcastle will probably avoid using alien weapons, where happy-go-lucky Los Angeles might grab at every shiny thing that comes her way.

The mission is over, fancy alien plasma rifle saved the day, what now? Well, simple, agents hand off acquired tech as part of evaluations. Valuable items that can be reversed engineered for extended study are pretty important to the Project, while more mundane finds will be examined for any variations (the mod team reserves the right to determine what a valuable find is).

FAQ

Can I take x?

Cam your character? Is it a reasonable assumption they will? Is it physically possible for them to take it?

I took x, now what?

Use it?

I handed x in, I liked it, any chance I'll get to keep it?

Maybe.

• The Mod Team

Having gained access to Newcastle's room, Raleigh rigged Memphis' trap he left with them during the mission as well as the trip wire that would set it off. He then followed Memphis' instructions for a second prank and unscrewed a few screws in Newcastle's bed frame so that the bed would collapse if he were to try and lay down. Raleigh finished up there and finally looked back at the room, the third prank was spread out across the entire room. It was his true masterpiece, Castle would literally never see it coming. "We're ready to go," said Raleigh before severing a wire, bringing the room into total darkness. With a box full of marbles, Raleigh waited next to the door for Castle to come in. Meanwhile, Hilo was hidden outside with a concealed face and an open bucket full of purple paint.

“And now, we wait.”

Lisle was wandering around the ship, curious as to what he might find. He's been living here for long enough to be comfortable but still thinks he's left so much unexplored.

Maintaining his curiosity, Lisle began opening every new room or closet door he could find. After about 10 minutes of finding nothing he was growing tired of the seemingly empty ship.

"No way." He let the words leave his mouth no louder than a whisper and proceeded to pick up the item he found.

A basketball

Lisle quickly took the ball with him and bolted towards the lounge where he began began to dribble the ball.

"Let's see if I still got this."

The first dribble Lisle attempted sent a shock through his whole body. That feeling of leather coming right back to your fingertips is something he thought he'd never feel again.After about 10 more dribbles the muscle memory from countless hours in the gym working to get better came back to him and he felt as good as ever.

Imagining he was back on the court somewhere in his hometown, Lisle began doing his most complex dribble sequences.

Cross, Behind, In and Out, Between, Cross, Cross

This was one of many combos he put together before counting down.

"It's Lisle with the Ball, he's already got 30 in the game. Lisle Weaves his way through the defense and is looking to shoot it himself. 3! 2! 1!"

Just before he said 1, Lisle fired the ball like a jump shot towards the trashcan he placed in the corner to act as a basket.

As the ball left his hand, Lisle uttered one word.

"Bang"

Charleston was walking around the hub, kinda upset and really hungry. He missed the sweetness and softness that came from fresh donuts, and that's when he saw it. A bakery producing fresh donuts right there in front of him.

a couple hours later Charleston returned to his bunk, four boxes of a dozen donuts in each in his hands. He estimated that they would be gone by the end of the week.

A near maniacal laugh emitted from the room which was designated to London, echoing around once or twice before fading. Although the door leading into his room was closed the dull hum and static of a speaker could be heard from behind it.

Another small setup which he had spent some time preparing was the collection of three amps, all linked together around him. A quick sound of satisfaction came from his lips before he moved towards the door and slid it open, allowing the dull hum to be heard a bit clearer through the hallway.

London took a position on his bed, retrieved a pair of ear plugs and pushed them into either of his ear canals. Close by was a near pumpkin orange colored electric guitar with navy blue specks scattered around the body of it.

A grin came across his lips as he took the instrument by its neck and cradled it across his waist. A quick final check of the cables running from amp to amp and London plucked across the strings of the guitar, letting out a beefy riff that could’ve been felt in neighboring rooms and even a floor upwards or down.

The song soon followed, echoing through the hall before him as he played along with it. He mouthed the words as he went, clearly enjoying this coveted alone time in his room.

(( Song: https://youtu.be/NrOemQaEJGU ))

Three storm grey pelicans broke through the cloud layer to see the landscape of this forgotten world. In some geographic freak accident, cupreous mountains that rose past the permanent cloud cover intermittently across the horizon. The view was dominated by the dark green tops of a global forest. Great swathes of fog looked like mere wisps of smoke from this altitude.

The forest gave way to a clearing. An industrial looking complex sat, nestled within, indifferent to the nature surrounding it. It was small, no larger then an office building, with an area in front for craft to land, where the pelicans now made for. Guards stood at intervals around the perimeter, as well as two flanking an official looking woman in a lab coat. The woman stood amongst the mist, indifferent to the dew coalescing onto the visors of her stalwart defenders.

The ramp of the lead pelican slowly lowered, giving the squad a chance to finally see what their missions meant. A trade, whatever the woman had to offer, for whatever was contained within a small secure box within their pelican.

The pilot radioed before the group disembarked.

"Something's casting static all over the sensors, I can't tell you what's out there."

Respond to this post directly for your first comment. I'll establish the rest once we get rolling.

The mission has commenced. A pelican descends from the onyx night sky, swerving past several ominous crimson clouds. Coming to a gradual halt over a vast and desolate wasteland, the back door of the pelican whirs open, and the pilot looks behind her shoulder towards the squad.

"Alright! This is your stop, boys! Now remember, your mission is to break into an isolated facility about a mile out from here and download the contents of the central database, which will be in the facility's server room. Make your way past the cliffs just ahead of us, infiltrate the facility, and get what we came for! Oh...and watch out for the local wildlife! I hear they like to chomp first, and ask questions never."

The engins hum loudly as she shifts gears.

"Contact me over radio when you're ready for extraction. Good luck, and try not to die!"

(OOC: As far as equipment goes, Agent Sydney will have received a Tactical Interface, and Agent Oakland will have received an Adaptive Camo unit. Reminder: equipment notes and descriptions are available on the sub wiki. If you have any questions, feel free to ask on the discord.

The post order is - Montgomery, Oakland, Vancouver, Sydney, Event NPC. Good luck everybody!)

The reserve post order is as follows:

Pripyat, Melbourne, Jackson, Manhattan, Sheffield, Las Vegas, Lake Zurich, London. Please refer to the character creation if you are unsure on usernames

(P.S. Please remember to tag the person after you when you reply, so that they'll know it's their turn to reply. Thanks~)

Melbourne sits on a chair in front of a cell, leaning back as he watches the cell. It starts feeling like hours before Melbourne starts whistling 'Jailhouse Rock', tapping a beat at his leg.

Hove sits in the lounge doing seemingly nothing much. On a coffee table before him are a couple of sheets of blank paper. He twirls a pen in his left hand as he thinks of what to write.

The pen, once probably reasonably expensive, is battered and scratched, the embossed brand name reduced to no more than an eroded smudge, and the end dented with what are likely to be light tooth marks.

Hove finally leans down and starts writing his letter. His penmanship, unlike many of his other skills, is clearly well practiced. A pleasant cursive and perfectly legible.

Dear Alex, I know how much you hate the long distance thing. At this rate I'll never be able to give your pen back. (It still writes beautifully by the way) I'm sorry to say that my situation now is yet more precarious than ever before. I don't know when I'll be back, or if.

Hove stops writing suddenly. He slumps back in his chair, his frustration evident. As he does so, the pen slips from his hand and clatters to the floor. He stares at the pen for a moment before lunging forward, crumpling the letter into a ball, and throwing it across the room.

Lisle and his twin brother were extremely close. Always doing everything with, and for each other. That's what made attending the funeral so difficult. So Lisle didn't go. He'd seen his brothers open chest split head just three short weeks ago. He refused to go through it again. Lisle was sitting in the a booth at there favorite diner in downtown Chicago just crying. While tears streamed down his face he became angry. Mostly at himself. "Why did you have to jump on it! Why!" saying this was a mistake. The memories flooded his head. "PATRICK!" he yelled as he slammed the table. By this time everyone in the diner had gotten scared and left. Lisle needed to say goodbye; he felt awful that he did not attend the funeral and he needed to get some things off his chest. He went to the cemetery to just talk to his now dead brother. After talking for hours to a grave Lisle just sat and stared. He slept there that night, but awoke somewhere else... Lisle had no idea where he was but he could see a logo and name that gave him an idea of what it is. Project Terminus is all he could see in the room before the intercom blasted, "Welcome Agent."

Charleston limped out of the medbay, his crotch area sore as can be. He sighed, and decided to never practice with rubber bullets and trying to dodge the bullets as he shoots them against a flat wall.

LA lied on her bed, head pressed into her pillow as she studied the knife in her hand. Turning it over, she traced the initials etched into its handle. 'SD.' Two simple letters that she just couldn't get out of her head.

"You said we'd be okay..."

She burried her face even deeper into her pillow and sighed. Several memories rushed to the forefront of her mind. As she contemplated the same two letters, she found herself trapped in days since past...no longer acknowledging the world around her.

"Were you lying?"

Like a really long time ago...

(San Diego:) "So, go ahead and tell me how amazing I am. Seriously, its like my favorite part of the day."

LA closed the door of her locker and laughed.

"Yeah, you're really awesome at getting knocked around by an unarmed grunt."

(San Diego:) "Hey, hold up. That grunt was something else. It had to have been special forces or something."

LA rolled her eyes at this, but couldn't help but smile.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Taking off his helmet, Diego travelled over and knocked on the side of her Cipher helmet.

(San Diego:) "You know I'd never let anything happen to you, right Audrey?"

LA looked over at him for a moment before answering.

"You know you're not untouchable...right?"

Diego laughed at this and took out his knife.

(San Diego:) "You really need to loosen up. You know that?"

LA shook her head at this.

"I know either of us could run out of luck. Why don't you like to admit that could happen?"

Diego just shrugged, and leaned back against one of the lockers.

(San Diego:) "I don't need to admit that could happen, because its never going to happen. Luck isn't what's keeping us alive."

Tossing the knife into the air, he quickly caught it by the grip, and gave a confident smile.

(San Diego:) "Its skill. You can't run out of skill. So don't worry, okay? You and me...we're going to be fine."

LA took a second to consider what he was saying before turning her gaze to the floor.

"If you say so."

Back in the present...

LA studied the blade of the knife. Images flashed through her mind of a firefight. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of these images, and the room fell quiet as she stared up at the ceiling.

"You said...we'd be okay...I'm not okay..."

Silence was called for in the briefing room as the Director began his announcement.

"The following are the assignments for upcoming missions.

Taking the lead on Operation CORDIAL will be Agent Hove, supported by Agents Detroit, Antietam, and Philadelphia.

On reserve for Operation CORDIAL, Agents Dallas, Salem, Memphis, Spartanburg, Marquette, Bee Cave, and Oxford.

Taking the lead on Operation HOUSEGUEST will be Agent Sydney, supported by Agents Montgomery, Oakland, and Vancouver.

On reserve for Operation HOUSEGUEST, Agents Pripyat, Melbourne, Jackson, Manhattan, Sheffield, Las Vegas, Lake Zurich, and London.

For you Agents that will not be going out on these missions, view this as a time to forge ahead in your training. We select mission teams based on Agent skillsets and missions requirements. There will be opportunities for you to show your fellow Agents what you're made of.

Dismissed."