StarCraft® II

Company of Brothers

The lights were going out, as the halls quickly turned quiet and just the sight of a cleaning drone going down the halls. But there was only one other man up besides the recruits. Lt. Monroe. He is a formidable man, managing to gain the trust and respect of several people...Just like some of them, he was nothing, now he is more than nothing.
The room quickly went dark and things quickly began to get more awkward. "eh... I think Im going to turn it in for the night." Samantha said, slipping into bed.
I turn on the light, staring the girl down. "I'm not sure what to accuse you of, just that I'd like to know what you stuck in those hastily closed drawers."
Marcy continues to stare at the ceiling, even after the lights had went out.
......They took me......and I know what I can do........ She smiled to herself, and rolled over, going to sleep.
Edited by Jester on 11/16/2012 4:39 AM PST
I clamber into bed, then turn to my roommate.
"Say, what's your name, anyway?"
Name, age, gender: Daris McGill, Age 35, Male

Apperance: He shaves his head daily if he has a chance, if he isn't able to shave a nice orange fluff will start to spurt out disabling the drawing capabilities of his cranium. He stands above the average man at 6’2 with his dark green eyes, He generally wears a jumpsuit under whatever uniform he is given unless the uniform requires a different one, but refuses to give up his fingerless gloves unless forced to enter a powered suit. He has a average build of not to muscular, but not too fat.

Backstory and Previous jobs: Daris started life on a space platform orbiting a fringe world, Being the hub of spacecraft in dire need of repairs he was soon taken in by someone who was smart enough to take him as an assistant.

At the age of twelve quickly learned the man's trade of mechanics and for the next seven years he worked with the man almost forgetting he had a family at his “Home”. As a result of this he and his family grew distant from each other and acted as if neither existed.

When he turned nineteen he was dead set to explore the world below him and aide it with his adept skill in Mechanics. When he arrived he quickly seized a job as a mechanic for the colonial militia. For five years he worked repairing all sorts of things from the rare siege tank to the common powered armour suite, In his free time he took spare parts and made anything from makeshift weapons to MULE bots.

One day he was offered a much better job of being the replacement of a Hellion driver. He quickly accepted the job and fell in love of it instantly. Finding how painful it could be to drive with the all too common hand blisters he donned some fingerless gloves to reduce the pain as he drove on for the next ten years, as well as repairing his beloved machine. Once he turned thirty-four he retired from the militia and returned to the space platform to take his experiences and Hellion where it would be of some use than keeping colonists in line or getting the stray mutalisk in check.

He eventually was contacted by a shady looking person who had “Found out” he was looking for some sort of job, or anything for a matter, He was told of some.... Project, Nothing else was much said about it. He reluctantly signed up hoping on the inside that he would be available to put his hellion experience and mechanic experience to some useage.
"Clothes, duh!" She said, fluffing her pillow.
"Really? Then why did you close the drawers so quickly?"
Company of Brother's what? I feel like this is an incomplete sentence.
Like a Company of Brother's? I just chose that for the title because it just stuck inside my cranium.

IC: Monroe was silently prowling the halls, catching anyone who was outside of their rooms while learning about these new faces. For it would be his job to put them up to speed. For that is his job so far, and he has just the surprise for them.
OOC:
Switching to first person, so much easier. AND yes, I know CR has put things on hold do to internet trouble, so don't rag on me for posting.

IC:
Shifting restlessly, my hand slides to my hip, the normal resting place for my knife.
... it feels so.. different without it, wish I hadn't been required to hand it over... ah hell, that's something I should be used to by now...
I didn't care if you post, just as long as you don't make it to morning yet. Going to wait for some more people before I post some more..

It's midnight now because Jester wanted me to continue and force it along.

IC: Alarms were going off, reverently they were acting. Yelling and hurrying was soon to happen. The men putting gear on, getting their weapons loaded. The chaos was ensuing! An emergency was going on, for they wouldn't have activated the alarms then.

Monroe was on the intercom, he was calm and collective. {All recruits, be prepared...meet me in the training hall, pronto!" He was already making his way down there, fast and diligently.
Edited by CrymsonRaven on 11/17/2012 9:46 AM PST
I sigh and turn back to the door. Guess that's what I got for interrogating my roommate. Ah well, I'd rested plenty on the way here. "Bloody weirdos. Why use recruits, even if some are experienced, to help with an emergency?"
I quickly leap out of bed, and begin running towards the training hall. I don't bother to do anything else.

Those alarms...they seem so familiar, yet so....unfamiliar...how strange.
Just as a fyi, this isn't the Ghost Program. Just wondering if that's what you're thinking of Dacder. I know if you know, but just as a fyi. So far it's interesting how you're going with your amnesia.
Edited by CrymsonRaven on 11/17/2012 10:03 AM PST
OOC: No, I have far more interesting plans for my character.
Marcy wakes up and sighs. She walks out and looks down the hallway. "What the !@#$ is going on now?" She asks out loud, more directed to herself then anyone. She shrugs, and takes the moment to shadow some of the people rushing around so she can see the rest of the facility.
Samantha shot up, "We are completely defenseless! What are we suppose to use? Harsh language!?"

OOC:

Anyone get the reference?
Edited by MarkusDaWise on 11/17/2012 11:38 AM PST
IC:
As the alarms go off, I snap awake, only to hear the din of a drill;
...really?... a bit unoriginal, but I suppose this is necessary...
I slip out of bed and into the hall, heading for the training hall.
I think... I want to join this. I'll probably be a boring character, but I'd like to join anyway. If that's OK at least. Hoping I'll be awake/aware of any activity.

Name: Fencar
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Appearance: 6'6", brown eyes, auburn hair, broad shoulders, large chest.
Back story: Ghost program reject. Has aversion to Psionics or 'magic' of any kind. After being rejected, I went to mercenary work as I didn't want to be re-socialized. I'm a pretty good shot, okay CQC, good at 'mechanics', for lack of a better description.

Notes:

I can't think of anything else for name.
Back story is pretty much the opposite of what I usually use in RP's. I usually play a caster of some sort.
Is 6'6" too tall for doorways? Does my character have to stoop?
Edited by Fencar on 11/19/2012 11:21 AM PST
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