HomePrelude to a Scheme -[RP]-
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Prelude to a Scheme -[RP]-
by Guest Fri Nov 21, 2008 11:24 pm
-|Prologue|-
As the Sun had started to set on the horizon, former Major Brad Dixon, of the United State Marine Corps. was sure he was unnoticed as he slid, slowly, around the corner of the Mess Hall. The Mess Hall was positioned just inside the thick separating barriers that the U.S. forces had raised to keep out the unwanted monstrosities that lurked in the Dark Folly, and was ridiculously easy - or so he thought - for Brad to sneak around due to the lack of security on that particular side of the building. In his hands, he carried the two most important items, in his mind, in existence; A map, leading into the Dark Avalon...and the blueprints for the compound - which also contained precise locations of security posts and breaks in the structures. He also carried, in one hand, his custom Colt .45 ACP Tangfolio Witness 1911 sidearm.
Little known to Brad, the current CO of the compound, Lieutenant Dyne Mercer Kross, was hot on his heels...though he stayed a reasonable distance from the man to offer the false sense of security needed for him to continue on his treacherous journey. It appeared that Brad was headed into the Dark Avalon...and Dyne could only imagine why...Brad had taken a suspiciously keen interest in the structure of the entire compound out of the blue a few days after the most recent attack on the compound by the beings of the Dark Folly - Monstrous undead creatures, that seemed to have a natural resistance for death, That was, of course, until the chemical technician discovered that the very same chemical ingredient that he used to make the minuscule warheads go 'boom' was like acid to the beings' undead bodies...and that in addition to eating away whatever it was that these creatures were composed of, it also set them ablaze naturally.
When Brad had been found later that night, he looked as if he had seen a god...he hardly spoke, mumbling too much to comprehend when he did anyways, his skin was ice cold, even though the atmosphere was abnormally warm, and he had a fit of the shakes that lasted for nearly two days. He wouldn't comment about what had happened to him, though. Sure enough...three days afterwards, Brad started asking all sorts of questions about the structure of the compound...claiming it was for the reassurance that he and the rest of the soldiers therein were truly as well guarded as they possibly could be...so, to help matters, the Lieutenant had given the former Major a blueprint for his barracks. Now, however, it appeared that the blueprint was being taken to some unknown source within the Folly...
As they neared the entrance to Dark Avalon, Dyne reached over his back and slid his own customized Winchester .308 sniper rifle off his left shoulder, and laid on his chest just off to the side of the path on which the two had been walking. He brought the butt of the rifle to his right shoulder, extending his right index finger out past the trigger, and laying the tip of it against the trigger-guard. With his left hand, he flipped open both covers on the high-powered night-vision scope, brought it to his right eye, and drew the cross-hairs on Brad...if the man insisted on traveling into the Dark Avalon with the secrets of the encampment...Dyne knew what he had to do. So he waited...and watched.
Guest- Guest
Re: Prelude to a Scheme -[RP]-
by Guest Sat Nov 22, 2008 5:14 am
Dyne waited for what seemed like a short eternity. Brad was obviously nervous about entering the Dark Avalon...and with good reason; The Dark Avalon happened to not only be the very place of origin of the monstrous creatures that attacked the compound on a weekly basis...but was also home to the Dark Folly's ruling Empire...Haseo and Treble. So Dyne had received no surprise when Brad hesitated to step across the border. No...the surprise came, instead, when Brad was pulled across the border by a large manifestation, of shadows that formed a pair of hands that grabbed Major Dixon. A larger surprise came when those hands failed to pull him into the Avalon, but instead simply crushed the breath from him before dropping him cold to the ground below.
Before making their retreat back into the Dark Avalon, the documents that had fallen from Brad Dixon's lifeless hands where grabbed up, and quickly vanished. For a solid minute, Lt. Kross laid still...breathless and unable to even fathom what had just happened. He came from his daze, blinking his eyes, and realized that he had fired off a full seven round clip into the space where the hands had been. He also realized that his ammunition had missed...or rather, went through...their target and struck a tree not far behind. This brought the horrid sense of reality back to him...and that was - that the Avalon would now know there had been another person at the border. So thinking quickly, Dyne slung the rifle back over his shoulders and rushed to the cold form of Brad, laying in the moist dirt. He grabbed his former Major's Sidearm as he reached down and plucked the dog tags from the man's neck. Sticking the tags in his left breast pocket, he turned and made his retreat back the way they had come, towards the encampment.
He made it to the camp in a time suited for his ass being ablaze and the camp being the only area around with water. When he did, he slammed his fists against the first barracks that he passed - the officers' barrack. Dyne slid to a stop in the moist, moon soaked dirt just feet away from the connecting platform of the officers' barrack and the Training hall as a pair of soldiers poured out of each. Without waiting for a question to arise about the urgency of waking the men in the dead of night, he explained what he had seen and what had happened at the border. "Arm the men! The Avalon knows someone else was there with an attempt to stop them from getting those documents! Tell the sentries to double their numbers at their posts, and for God's sake, someone get these men some machine turrets!"
The orders did not fall on deaf ears...they didn't fall on hesitant ears, for that matter, either. Before the Lieutenant had even finished ordering the other officers, those orders were being carried out. To each of the four guard turrets, two more men went, carrying between them a large counter-sniper rifle, a box of seven rolls of ammunition, and a tripod. The lieutenant didn't wait around to make sure the rest of the orders were followed. He had his job to do...and that was; get to the back of the camp, and set up shop at one of the three sniper posts. As he rushed the small roll-up ladder to the far left post, he reached into an open and waiting ammunition box, and pulled out a case, carrying ten boxes of live, hollow-point ammunition for the Winchester. Putting his left leg on the bottom rung, he slid Brad's sidearm into his thigh holster on his right thigh, and used his left hand to climb the wavering ladder.
Once up, the case of ammunition was set roughly next to a small cut-out slot in the side of the post...which looked very much like a tree-stand/deer blind. He rested his rifle next to the hole and reached out for his spotter, a private named John Stanton, who struggled to make his ascension of the ladder. When the other man was safely up, Dyne pulled up the ladder again, throwing it to the back of the 'blind' before moving back to his 'window' and taking up arm. "Be ready. I'm not waiting for these bastards to break through the front again. I'm gonna start blowing fuckers away as soon as they get within striking range. Keep an eye on my back. I don't want anything manifesting in here.", he said as he lifted his rifle onto a small bi pod built into the slot, on which he laid the barrel of his Winchester. The slot was perfectly cut so that he could almost get a clear view of 100 degrees infront of him through his high-powered night scope. So it was this again...Dyne sitting where no one could see him...watching...and waiting.
Before making their retreat back into the Dark Avalon, the documents that had fallen from Brad Dixon's lifeless hands where grabbed up, and quickly vanished. For a solid minute, Lt. Kross laid still...breathless and unable to even fathom what had just happened. He came from his daze, blinking his eyes, and realized that he had fired off a full seven round clip into the space where the hands had been. He also realized that his ammunition had missed...or rather, went through...their target and struck a tree not far behind. This brought the horrid sense of reality back to him...and that was - that the Avalon would now know there had been another person at the border. So thinking quickly, Dyne slung the rifle back over his shoulders and rushed to the cold form of Brad, laying in the moist dirt. He grabbed his former Major's Sidearm as he reached down and plucked the dog tags from the man's neck. Sticking the tags in his left breast pocket, he turned and made his retreat back the way they had come, towards the encampment.
He made it to the camp in a time suited for his ass being ablaze and the camp being the only area around with water. When he did, he slammed his fists against the first barracks that he passed - the officers' barrack. Dyne slid to a stop in the moist, moon soaked dirt just feet away from the connecting platform of the officers' barrack and the Training hall as a pair of soldiers poured out of each. Without waiting for a question to arise about the urgency of waking the men in the dead of night, he explained what he had seen and what had happened at the border. "Arm the men! The Avalon knows someone else was there with an attempt to stop them from getting those documents! Tell the sentries to double their numbers at their posts, and for God's sake, someone get these men some machine turrets!"
The orders did not fall on deaf ears...they didn't fall on hesitant ears, for that matter, either. Before the Lieutenant had even finished ordering the other officers, those orders were being carried out. To each of the four guard turrets, two more men went, carrying between them a large counter-sniper rifle, a box of seven rolls of ammunition, and a tripod. The lieutenant didn't wait around to make sure the rest of the orders were followed. He had his job to do...and that was; get to the back of the camp, and set up shop at one of the three sniper posts. As he rushed the small roll-up ladder to the far left post, he reached into an open and waiting ammunition box, and pulled out a case, carrying ten boxes of live, hollow-point ammunition for the Winchester. Putting his left leg on the bottom rung, he slid Brad's sidearm into his thigh holster on his right thigh, and used his left hand to climb the wavering ladder.
Once up, the case of ammunition was set roughly next to a small cut-out slot in the side of the post...which looked very much like a tree-stand/deer blind. He rested his rifle next to the hole and reached out for his spotter, a private named John Stanton, who struggled to make his ascension of the ladder. When the other man was safely up, Dyne pulled up the ladder again, throwing it to the back of the 'blind' before moving back to his 'window' and taking up arm. "Be ready. I'm not waiting for these bastards to break through the front again. I'm gonna start blowing fuckers away as soon as they get within striking range. Keep an eye on my back. I don't want anything manifesting in here.", he said as he lifted his rifle onto a small bi pod built into the slot, on which he laid the barrel of his Winchester. The slot was perfectly cut so that he could almost get a clear view of 100 degrees infront of him through his high-powered night scope. So it was this again...Dyne sitting where no one could see him...watching...and waiting.
Guest- Guest
Re: Prelude to a Scheme -[RP]-
by Haseo Tue Dec 09, 2008 12:51 pm
A single silver eye watched as the camp sprang into motion. He'd been curled up against a crate, trying to get some rest before his next self-appointed assignment, but he knew instantly that any hopes of sleep were over now that something was obviously happening. Pointed ears picked out some mixed conversation with sharp hearing. A few soldiers ran by, talking in hurried voices. "Damnit... just a few days ago they attacked... and again so soon?"
The other snorted and said with a laugh, "You think you'd be used to it by now, Slick." The other laughed as well, stopping short as he saw the elf in leather armor against the crate, his M1 Garrand set against his shoulder, butt resting in his lap. The elf obviously looked tired and the soldier gave him a slightly wary look. Humans generally didn't trust anything that wasn't human anymore and for for something distinctly not human to be sitting amongst their ranks put them on edge. But the man only offered a small nod, and rushed back with his partner. Faustas had done enough to prove he wasn't a turncoat, that he was actually willing to work for the others as much as with them. Rubbing his eye and adjusting his black eyepatch, the elf pulled himself off of the crate and ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing it out in his preferred style. He also did something that not many would have considered a smart thing to do, given their surroundings and the situation; He put earbuds in, and tapped a few buttons on a black iPod on his belt. Instantly, everything was drowned out in haunting instrumentals, their long mournful sounds pulling Faustas from a sense of reality as he surveyed the hurried camp mobilizing its defenses. His eye caught Dyne climbing into one of the sniper posts, a younger soldier following close behind.
Faustas considered following for a moment, but instead turned and picked up the crate he'd been leaning against. His feet instantly carried him to where a few other soldiers were making a make-shift barricade, their rifles on their backs just the same as Faustas'. They each offered the elf a nod of greeting, who returned it rather numbly. He had to admit that these humans were incredibly soft compared to the ones he'd become accustomed to. Their lives had been relatively easy the past few centuries from what he'd read, having destroyed all their natural predators except the largest one; Themselves.
Looking to the Dark Avalon, Faustas instantly corrected himself. The humans were no longer their greatest predator. Not anymore, anyways. Dropping into a kneeling position, Faustas brought his rifle up and muttered, more to himself than anyone else, "Here we go again..." The three other soldiers that had remained at the barricade all snickered, bringing up their rifles as well.
--------------
They were shadows. Every one of them moving in unison, creeping from this corner to that. They didn't move in a hurried manner though, in fact they were slow, almost shuffling. A groan rose from the shadows every now and again, though it could have been something as simple as the wind blowing through the rubble and ruins. A few rocks would shift out of place as the shadows moved, all of them converging on one point. The first of the shambling forms emerged from the shadows and it was instantly clear that the groans had not come from the wind, as more and more figures emerged.
All of them were tattered and torn. And not just their clothing, but their very skin, faces, and bodies. Large chunks were missing, bite marks covered most of them, along with deep scratches. They were all heading towards a single location, their yellow glazed eyes filled with a dark hunger. As several dozen finally emerged and continued on their empty and groaning path towards the military camp, their lips slowly pulling back into snarls and drool dripping from their mouths. Dozens upon dozens of the creatures emerged, all intent on the same evil purpose; Moving upon the intruders of their Master's land. From the shadows all of the zombies had emerged, a pair of glowing blue eyes watched, waiting. Behind those eyes, were several more shadows, though these did not seem the broken and tattered forms that had emerged recently. But still, they waited... and watched...
The other snorted and said with a laugh, "You think you'd be used to it by now, Slick." The other laughed as well, stopping short as he saw the elf in leather armor against the crate, his M1 Garrand set against his shoulder, butt resting in his lap. The elf obviously looked tired and the soldier gave him a slightly wary look. Humans generally didn't trust anything that wasn't human anymore and for for something distinctly not human to be sitting amongst their ranks put them on edge. But the man only offered a small nod, and rushed back with his partner. Faustas had done enough to prove he wasn't a turncoat, that he was actually willing to work for the others as much as with them. Rubbing his eye and adjusting his black eyepatch, the elf pulled himself off of the crate and ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing it out in his preferred style. He also did something that not many would have considered a smart thing to do, given their surroundings and the situation; He put earbuds in, and tapped a few buttons on a black iPod on his belt. Instantly, everything was drowned out in haunting instrumentals, their long mournful sounds pulling Faustas from a sense of reality as he surveyed the hurried camp mobilizing its defenses. His eye caught Dyne climbing into one of the sniper posts, a younger soldier following close behind.
Faustas considered following for a moment, but instead turned and picked up the crate he'd been leaning against. His feet instantly carried him to where a few other soldiers were making a make-shift barricade, their rifles on their backs just the same as Faustas'. They each offered the elf a nod of greeting, who returned it rather numbly. He had to admit that these humans were incredibly soft compared to the ones he'd become accustomed to. Their lives had been relatively easy the past few centuries from what he'd read, having destroyed all their natural predators except the largest one; Themselves.
Looking to the Dark Avalon, Faustas instantly corrected himself. The humans were no longer their greatest predator. Not anymore, anyways. Dropping into a kneeling position, Faustas brought his rifle up and muttered, more to himself than anyone else, "Here we go again..." The three other soldiers that had remained at the barricade all snickered, bringing up their rifles as well.
--------------
They were shadows. Every one of them moving in unison, creeping from this corner to that. They didn't move in a hurried manner though, in fact they were slow, almost shuffling. A groan rose from the shadows every now and again, though it could have been something as simple as the wind blowing through the rubble and ruins. A few rocks would shift out of place as the shadows moved, all of them converging on one point. The first of the shambling forms emerged from the shadows and it was instantly clear that the groans had not come from the wind, as more and more figures emerged.
All of them were tattered and torn. And not just their clothing, but their very skin, faces, and bodies. Large chunks were missing, bite marks covered most of them, along with deep scratches. They were all heading towards a single location, their yellow glazed eyes filled with a dark hunger. As several dozen finally emerged and continued on their empty and groaning path towards the military camp, their lips slowly pulling back into snarls and drool dripping from their mouths. Dozens upon dozens of the creatures emerged, all intent on the same evil purpose; Moving upon the intruders of their Master's land. From the shadows all of the zombies had emerged, a pair of glowing blue eyes watched, waiting. Behind those eyes, were several more shadows, though these did not seem the broken and tattered forms that had emerged recently. But still, they waited... and watched...
Haseo- Emperor
-
Number of posts : 119
Age : 33
Where you Reside : The Tower of the Dark Folly.
Registration date : 2008-09-09
Re: Prelude to a Scheme -[RP]-
by Guest Thu Jan 01, 2009 7:26 pm
Dyne almost failed to notice the groans. Being a veteran of a multitude of minor scuffles and a good war before the Folly had descended on San Fransisco, Dyne's ears weren't nearly tuned enough to hear such things coming in the distance. However, being both a military, and self-trained master marksman, it was probably Dyne that had caught the motion in the shadows before the tattered figures emerged. Without warning, when the first line of creatures had made it to a distance of two thousand yards from the camp, a single shot rose above the clamor in the camp, and all the men grew silent, though they continued to bustle through their duties in preparing for the impending attack. A small wisp of steam ascended from the opening of Dyne's Winchester, visible only in the cold blue light of the moon through the clouds overhead. Beside the Lieutenant, John let out a sigh of relief.
"Got him, sir... Actually, you got two of them...I think..." While John continued to check through his own scope, Dyne trained his cross-hairs on the new closest undead creature, and fired off another round. "Thank you, John...I know I got ém. Now quit using your firearm as a pair of binoculars, and start making yourself useful!" Though he knew Dyne was right, John still rolled his eyes as he steadied his rifle on a creature just beside the Lt.'s next target. Simultaneous shots rang out through the night, as both .308 caliber bullets impacted the creatures' heads, sending a spray of coagulated matter onto their brethren. "Hold the fort." Dyne lifted his rifle from the sill and backed away, peering out of their keep to a single sentry below. "Radio! Contact the front-line. Tell them to adjust the South-East and East turrets, Tell them to bring them in ten degrees, and start spraying those fuckers. They'll be in range in less than a minute!"
As the man below got on the radio and called the order in to the men on the gun turrets at the front of the camp, Dyne returned to his post at the 'window'. "John, get those Flash Bangs ready. Get them out of the crates and station them between us. If these bastards manage to make it through the front lines, we're gonna need a distraction so we can get down and find a new post." He brought the butt of the rifle to his shoulder again, letting off another round. "Right!" John pulled his rifle from the sill and ran to the back of the post, where the crates containing the Flash Bangs lay in waiting. There, he pulled belts of the grenades from the first crate, and slung them over his shoulder. Closing the crate, he turned and headed back to his post, where he lay the belts between himself and Dyne. As he laid his rifle back on the sill, and studied the cross-hair on the tattered head of his next target, he smiled a bit on the inside before pulling the trigger that sent the bullet in a clean path through his victim. "They're within range, sir."
Just as the words had escaped John's lips, the two machine turrets opened fire, sending wave after wave of .50 caliber bullets sailing through the night. Dyne and John watched as -row after row - undead fell to the earth, even the fallen bodies continuing to be shredded by the high powered automatic turrets. This didn't mean they could rest, though. No...Dyne and John continued to fire from their vantage point, each bullet masterfully striking the head of it's intended target from little over a thousand yards away. As he knelt and kept up the assault, Dyne pondered the attack...never, had the Imperial family sent so many. Usually, there were only a dozen or two...never this many. His thoughts were cut short as the turrets stopped firing. Looking through his scope, he let out a sigh of relief as he came to realize that the last of the Imperial Family's army had fallen. As he sat and surveyed the situation, the only thing that crossed his mind was; What're they gonna do next?
"Got him, sir... Actually, you got two of them...I think..." While John continued to check through his own scope, Dyne trained his cross-hairs on the new closest undead creature, and fired off another round. "Thank you, John...I know I got ém. Now quit using your firearm as a pair of binoculars, and start making yourself useful!" Though he knew Dyne was right, John still rolled his eyes as he steadied his rifle on a creature just beside the Lt.'s next target. Simultaneous shots rang out through the night, as both .308 caliber bullets impacted the creatures' heads, sending a spray of coagulated matter onto their brethren. "Hold the fort." Dyne lifted his rifle from the sill and backed away, peering out of their keep to a single sentry below. "Radio! Contact the front-line. Tell them to adjust the South-East and East turrets, Tell them to bring them in ten degrees, and start spraying those fuckers. They'll be in range in less than a minute!"
As the man below got on the radio and called the order in to the men on the gun turrets at the front of the camp, Dyne returned to his post at the 'window'. "John, get those Flash Bangs ready. Get them out of the crates and station them between us. If these bastards manage to make it through the front lines, we're gonna need a distraction so we can get down and find a new post." He brought the butt of the rifle to his shoulder again, letting off another round. "Right!" John pulled his rifle from the sill and ran to the back of the post, where the crates containing the Flash Bangs lay in waiting. There, he pulled belts of the grenades from the first crate, and slung them over his shoulder. Closing the crate, he turned and headed back to his post, where he lay the belts between himself and Dyne. As he laid his rifle back on the sill, and studied the cross-hair on the tattered head of his next target, he smiled a bit on the inside before pulling the trigger that sent the bullet in a clean path through his victim. "They're within range, sir."
Just as the words had escaped John's lips, the two machine turrets opened fire, sending wave after wave of .50 caliber bullets sailing through the night. Dyne and John watched as -row after row - undead fell to the earth, even the fallen bodies continuing to be shredded by the high powered automatic turrets. This didn't mean they could rest, though. No...Dyne and John continued to fire from their vantage point, each bullet masterfully striking the head of it's intended target from little over a thousand yards away. As he knelt and kept up the assault, Dyne pondered the attack...never, had the Imperial family sent so many. Usually, there were only a dozen or two...never this many. His thoughts were cut short as the turrets stopped firing. Looking through his scope, he let out a sigh of relief as he came to realize that the last of the Imperial Family's army had fallen. As he sat and surveyed the situation, the only thing that crossed his mind was; What're they gonna do next?
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