Road to Redemption RP(G) [Closed]

[Bannanachair]

I'll put the Sarg's handgun up as "need", and anything else would really just be greed.

[Benzo]

1) Typhinx Scattershot - Equipped by Hkatchep; Need uncontested
2) Cylimax Combat Revolver -Equipped by Ratarok; Need uncontested
3) Typhinx "Sarg's Handcannon" - Equipped by Jorim; Need uncontested.

[Dispensing loot...]

[Benzo]

The tension in the air slowly settled as the last of the Typhinx combatants had been slain. As your party looks around the train, you notice more than a fair share of the train's previous passengers also lie dead among the bodies. How many were Defense fighters in the making or simply those looking for refuge... It was hard to tell.

As survivors of the conflict began tending to the bodies, primarily by throwing them out an open window, Jorim notices a Galanet recorder humming faintly from upon the dead Sargeant.

"Ret- bzzzzt. Copy, requesting status- bzzzzzzzt -liberation."

"Bzzzzzzt... responses, sir."

"Dead, then? Arm th- bzzzzzzt..."

[Bannanachair]

Interesting - I'll pocket the Galanet recorder for myself. Those guys who aided me in the fight are quite good, but I don't know which of them want to fight against the Typhinx and who's just looking for refuge and I don't want to burden them with a hunch. I'll have a go tinkering with it myself, I reckon, and then if I can't hack and silently observe their secret frequencies myself I'll get some help with it.

[llama]

I look to the bodies falling out of the window with a kind of disdain. Sure, they were our enemies, but we could have done something more.. I don't know.. respectful.
Glancing around at my battle buddies, I do a small smile, "Good job everyone. Anyone want a.." A bigger grin, "pin button?"

[Benzo]

(Basically just a bastardized mix of a walkie-talkie and a computer, but not a smart phone, if that makes sense. Everyone has one already, and they're a rather insecure and untrusted, yet cheap method of communication; For example, Commander Harper's message being broadcasted planet-wide. Nothing special about it. Just what you overheard before it cut out completely.)

A few short minutes after the ordeal, just as the last of the bodies were being disposed of, someone points up at the Typhinx station.
"Something is happening up there..."

Sure enough, as various members of your party looked skyward, you all could see what appeared to be a slow angle shift as the center began pointing more downwards. Though the distance was obviously great, those with greater perception would be able to see the station's center begin spinning within itself.

"Someone tell me what's going on. Are we screwed?" Ratarok grunted from his seat, rather carelessly bandaging the few areas where rounds had cracked through his shield.

[Bannanachair]

(Oh, okay. Do people store information on them for the computer part of the mix?)

[Benzo]

(I'm intrigued now; Originally, just meant pretty much the screen, and ability to perform simple operations, so maybe not any actual internet-like connection, but putting in the effort [Likely in town] may yield any personal notes or recordings the Sargeant may have kept/saved.)

[Bannanachair]

(Might he keep notes on strategies and secret orders and the likes?)

[Benzo]

(Maybe.)

[LNG257]

(Honestly, probably not. He was just a sergeant, not any sort of high-ranking officer.)

Hkatchep buzzes slightly as it looks out towards the Typhinx station, observing its motion. With one hand it reached out towards Ratarok, drawing a simple, glowing message in front of him: Yes.

[Benzo]

"Fantastic." Ratarok responded sarcastically, finishing with the wrappings and slowly pushing himself up. Finding somewhere open to look through, he began watching the slow motions of the space station curiously. Familiar, but not quite... Then a Dariman Defense fighter yelled out the answer.

"Oh fuck... The Moonshot arming up! Get this trai-"

The first impact struck less than one hundred meters way, spraying the left side of the train with dirt and debris as it carried forward. The second impact was close enough to shake the train, everyone on board grabbing onto anything they could to keep stable.

A greater, more violent rumbling reverberates through the train then as those up front began to panic. Looking through the front windshield would reveal to you that the trainrail had been brought down ahead. The screeching of brakes began to fill the air, but it wasn't possibly enough. As the train skid forward, your party is roughly thrown about, reaching the end of intact rail and quickly dropping a short distance to the ground below.

Those less injured from the crash were quick to action, helping you and others to their feet and nudging you forward.

"C'mon! Get up and fucking run; Resilience is sending ground transport; No doubt Typhinx is sending air."

(Any news on Tails? Xeno wants to join us in Resilience, presuming no one objects.)

[LNG257]

Hkatchep will be among the first up, drawing large pincers to drag other fallen fighters up, buzzing urgently. It will draw a large word in the air: Run.

[Bannanachair]

(I'm cool with Xeno joining, and I'll reach out to Tails.)

Jorim

I too was one of the first up, and I got to work helping others up as well.

[llama]

I get up from the blast, my hair an utter mess. I look confused at this proposition, asking a rather ignorant, "Run where? I mean there's not really any place to go."

[Benzo]

"Anywhere. Just run!" someone yells, pushing Victoria forward as dirt began spraying up around the wreckage. Passing by overhead, two red and yellow Typhinx cruisers zip by before turning for another strafe. As survivors began to scramble frantically, one of the ships suddenly loses its left wing, knocking it off balance into the other.

As more rounds began spraying into the vessels, downing both before long, your party is able to see an approaching cloud of dust, the front of a few trucks vaguely visible. Before long, you can see a few heads standing behind impressive-looking turrets. A loud cheer was quick to echo through the air.

"It's the Defense... We're saved!"

"Yeah! Eat dust, motherfuckers!"

Looking over the wreckage of the train, Ratarok then threw his gaze upwards, as if anticipating more ships to drop down. With a huff, he was called to attention by the human whom had been handing out weapons earlier.

"You there, turtle-man, help me carry the package. Don't worry; Typhinx invested too much in this raid already. They've pulled off."

Looking at him with a nod, Ratarok hobbled over as he pulled a large metal container from the twisted metal and broken glass. Freeing it, Ratarok grabbed the other side as the approaching Defense vehicles pulled up; Less impressive up close, it seems. Two rusted Humvee-like trucks with a half dozen armed buggies acting as escorts. 

"Everyone get saddled up." one of the truck's gunners said, scanning the group. "Where's the Cell at?"

"Got it here." the Human with Ratarok hailed, the two carrying the container over and throwing it inside.

[Xenos]

SPOILER: Click to show

Name: Xhanhurg Nishion

Age: 34 years

Race: He's a pretty one to look at.

Gender: Male

Appearance: Physically he's what I put up at his race. Now here's his armor.

Bio: Xhanhurg does not know much of his own race aside from their government assimilating into the Typhinx Army. Many of them rebelled and became heretics, cast out to fend for themselves. Most of them either perished or successfully assimilated into other civilizations. Xhanhurg was branded a heretic, along with his parents, and were forced to relocate to a different world. When they managed to do so, they've arrived at Resilience City and lived there ever since until their deaths, which left Xhanhurg alone as a young adult to roam the streets. He is currently alone, wandering the city as a nomad.

Class: Predator

Stats:

Fortitude: 8 (70 health)

Dexterity: 15 (7.5% Crit Chance)

Ingenuity: 17 (75% Crit Bonus)

Speed: 4

Agility: 1

Fatigue: 2

Strength: 0

Luck: 3

Allure: 2

[Benzo]

(Yer one point over, though I imagine that's just from the bonus talent, aye? That'll come into effect after your first level-up rather than from the get-go.)

[Xenos]

(Whoospies, lemme just get rid of that, then.)

[Benzo]

(Ahh, no, you still get the bonus point, just not from the start. Currently, you have 23 points spent, and need to drop it to 22. [Or take a third point out of Fortitude to make up for it.])
(And then, upon reaching Lvl 2, you'll get to spend 11 points leveling rather than the standard 10, due to your Ingenuity.)

[Xenos]

Apologies, then. I can take out another point of Fortitude, I won't mind.

[Benzo]

(Do you turkeys need me to repost or something? Still adding Sniper rifles into the loot roll for you Xeno, but you'll eventually see one pop up in your equipment.)

"Anywhere. Just run!" someone yells, pushing Victoria forward as dirt began spraying up around the wreckage. Passing by overhead, two red and yellow Typhinx cruisers zip by before turning for another strafe. As survivors began to scramble frantically, one of the ships suddenly loses its left wing, knocking it off balance into the other.

As more rounds began spraying into the vessels, downing both before long, your party is able to see an approaching cloud of dust, the front of a few trucks vaguely visible. Before long, you can see a few heads standing behind impressive-looking turrets. A loud cheer was quick to echo through the air.

"It's the Defense... We're saved!"

"Yeah! Eat dust, motherfuckers!"

Looking over the wreckage of the train, Ratarok then threw his gaze upwards, as if anticipating more ships to drop down. With a huff, he was called to attention by the human whom had been handing out weapons earlier.

"You there, turtle-man, help me carry the package. Don't worry; Typhinx invested too much in this raid already. They've pulled off."

Looking at him with a nod, Ratarok hobbled over as he pulled a large metal container from the twisted metal and broken glass. Freeing it, Ratarok grabbed the other side as the approaching Defense vehicles pulled up; Less impressive up close, it seems. Two rusted Humvee-like trucks with a half dozen armed buggies acting as escorts.

"Everyone get saddled up." one of the truck's gunners said, scanning the group. "Where's the Cell at?"

"Got it here." the Human with Ratarok hailed, the two carrying the container over and throwing it inside.

[Bannanachair]

Jorim

I enter one of the trucks.

[Benzo]

(Good enough. Continuing forward, then.)

As the last of you climb into any available vehicle, the drivers quickly turn around and begin racing back across the sandy expanse. As the minutes wore on, many of the occupants too shocked from recent enough to do much talking, some of you begin to notice what look like large spires visible among the cliffs ahead.

Entering what looked like a canyon, the vehicles wind around the twisting curves before suddenly coming up to a large dish-shaped wall embedded into either side of a basin-like area. As you approach a large gate in its center, one of the guardsmen walks up with a hand raised.

"E-Cell?" he asks, bringing a nod from the driver as he then went around to collect the large package. "Excellent; Welcome home, soldiers."
Turning away then, the guardsman waved for the gate to open, then rushing off as another helped him with the container.

"Welcome to Resilience, folks." your driver says as the vehicles all pulled over to the side. "Not the prettiest place around, bu-"

"Incoming Moonshot mortars!" someone from the group of arrivals suddenly screams. Sure enough, looking up reveals what appears to be a blinding blue ball of light approaching, though it burst into a shower of fireworks and dissipated about a mile up.

"That, is the Cylimax Operations Shield." your driver continued after flashing a smile. "Takes a whole helluva lot of energy to keep 'er running, but Typhinx can't hope to crack it."

"As I was saying; Welcome to Resilience. This place used to be an old Cylimax operations facility, you know, before this planet was stripped clean a thousand years ago. Lots of ancient tech, but at least that shield still works.

History lesson aside; If you are here to enlist, please proceed to General Harper's HQ at the northern spire's base. If you are here for shelter, pick and empty spot and luck be with you... The bar is on the eastern side, towards where Lucas sells his weaponry. Mercenary jobs and low-level operations can be found on the bounty board if you need extra spending money while still lending us aid for the Good Fight. And uh... If I missed anything, you can find maps of Resilience's layout for your Galanet devices just about anywhere."

[New Objective: Guns! Guns! Guns!]
[Objective updated: Welcome to the Battlefield]

(Added your equipment Xenos, same EXP because I'm not dealing with leveling people at different times, and 50% of our current credits so you at least have some money.)

[Xenos]

(Thanks for the items. Also, have you ever played Borderlands? You can answer in the OOC so we don't need to clog up the RP.)

Xhanhurg Nishion

I let out a loud hacking noise that is similar to a human's, "Agh. Fucking drink ain't strong enough." Tossing the bottle of liquor aside to the others that are strewn about, I gaze at the small collection for a while before focusing my attention from my position. Atop a building, leaning on a chair with my legs folded comfortably. Without a care in the world. Mostly the life of a vagabond like me.

"Parents told me to join up with this faction against the Typhinx," I say to myself, "Bring back our honor..." I ponder for a second, then letting out a sigh.

"God damn, they were right. What am I doing?" I look to my rifle, then I grab it from its propped position and set it on my lap. Then, I adjust the scope accordingly.

"Let's see what I get to see today...oh? Looks like new recruits. Surprised they keep coming."

...

"Ah...damn it. Might as well honor their last wishes." I place my sniper on my back as I make my way down the building. After a while of maneuvering through the building, without letting anyone know of course, I continue to think on my brash decision. Maybe it's the booze, or some cause, I think.

Now I reach the streets, beginning my expedition to the recruitment center, or whatever they'd like to call it.