Orbath
22-12-2007, 07:08
OOC: Basically I'm bored and I've decided to start a Non Cannon RP. I'm accepting the first person who posts here so long as they are a good rper. I'm sorry for being picky, I know I've not the best but I find I make better quality and longer posts when RPing with better Rpers. Thats not to say if I make a short post I think you suck :). Anywho, the scenario is I have a small convoy, (2 HMMWVs, One Truck), traveling down a the street in an abandoned Iraq like setting. I want someone to play the part of the insurgents who will ambush the convoy.
IC:
Master Warrant Officer Ross Stone sat in the front passenger seat of the lead humvee. He peered out a dusty window, surveying his surroundings. The streets and buildings were empty. A breeze blew, still not making the heat anymore bearable. It reminded him of those old western American movies he was fond of as a kid. Still fond of actually. He took his hand off of his rifle, an M-16, without any of the fancy trimmings, just how he liked it. He had used that rifle in various conflicts and had grown fond of it. Each scratch in the matte black finish meant something, a battle scar, a representation of time, just like a photograph. He wiped his brow under his helmet which was dripping with sweat.
''Fucking thing''
He cursed the helmet, though he knew taking it off was dangerous. He'd once seen a soldier remove his helmet. Seconds later, a bullet had rung out through the jungle and entered his skull. Since then, whenever he got a new batch of recruits, that was one thing he always drilled into their heads. He thought back to his last batch.
'' If I catch any of you without your goddamn brain bucket I will shit in and return it promptly to your fucking heads.''
He chuckled to himself. Those were the good old days. Ross dreaded his retirement. He loved the military, each and every aspect of it however he knew his time had come. He wasn't up to snuff anymore, it was time for the new meat.
''I'm just an old fart.''
His attention returned to the empty, quiet street. In the window, a few buildings ahead on his left he spotted movement. There wasn't supposed to be anyone in this area. He turned to the driver.
''Jackson, movement, 11 o'clock, three buildings in front, second story.''
The driver took his eyes of the road for a brief second, looking up at the window.
''Sorry sir, I don't see anything.''
Ross became frustrated. He was sure he had spotted something.
''Halt the convoy.''
Jackson considered questioning him but decided against this. He knew he'd end up with a new asshole for doing so. He tapped the breaks and brought the humvee to a stop. Behind him, the troop truck and other humvee rolled to slow stops. Ross gazed up at the window. His tired old eyes searched out some sign of enemy presence. The he saw it. A shadowy shape seemed to glide into the window frame. He continued his gaze, trying to make out what he was seeing. Then he saw it. The outline of an RPG. He bellowed an order.
''Everyone get the fuck out, RPG, 11' oclock!''
He pulled his door open, gripping his rifle and letting his tan colored desert boots hit the hard packed sand. The road wasn't even paved.
''Cover now, away from the vehicle.''
He began to run, heading for a nearby wall in the patio of a restaurant. His fireteam did the same, rushing away from the vehicle for cover. The men in the truck behind sat bewildered. Ross motioned for them to get out.
The hit came as a complete shock. The RPG round struck the front grill of the humvee. His eyes were assaulted by a flash, then by flying dust and dirt. He could feel the heat and pressure from the blast.
''God damn.''
He blinked a couple of times, getting the dust and dirt from his eyes but causing them to tear. Quickly he looked around. The front of the humvee had been blown to shreds and it had actually been pushed backwards and slightly to the side. The soldiers in the truck behind it had begun to jump out onto the street heading for cover. The gunner in the truck remained however, firing numerous .50 cal rounds down range, at the window where the RPG had been fired from. Suddenly, AK fire erupted from the buildings around Ross.
IC:
Master Warrant Officer Ross Stone sat in the front passenger seat of the lead humvee. He peered out a dusty window, surveying his surroundings. The streets and buildings were empty. A breeze blew, still not making the heat anymore bearable. It reminded him of those old western American movies he was fond of as a kid. Still fond of actually. He took his hand off of his rifle, an M-16, without any of the fancy trimmings, just how he liked it. He had used that rifle in various conflicts and had grown fond of it. Each scratch in the matte black finish meant something, a battle scar, a representation of time, just like a photograph. He wiped his brow under his helmet which was dripping with sweat.
''Fucking thing''
He cursed the helmet, though he knew taking it off was dangerous. He'd once seen a soldier remove his helmet. Seconds later, a bullet had rung out through the jungle and entered his skull. Since then, whenever he got a new batch of recruits, that was one thing he always drilled into their heads. He thought back to his last batch.
'' If I catch any of you without your goddamn brain bucket I will shit in and return it promptly to your fucking heads.''
He chuckled to himself. Those were the good old days. Ross dreaded his retirement. He loved the military, each and every aspect of it however he knew his time had come. He wasn't up to snuff anymore, it was time for the new meat.
''I'm just an old fart.''
His attention returned to the empty, quiet street. In the window, a few buildings ahead on his left he spotted movement. There wasn't supposed to be anyone in this area. He turned to the driver.
''Jackson, movement, 11 o'clock, three buildings in front, second story.''
The driver took his eyes of the road for a brief second, looking up at the window.
''Sorry sir, I don't see anything.''
Ross became frustrated. He was sure he had spotted something.
''Halt the convoy.''
Jackson considered questioning him but decided against this. He knew he'd end up with a new asshole for doing so. He tapped the breaks and brought the humvee to a stop. Behind him, the troop truck and other humvee rolled to slow stops. Ross gazed up at the window. His tired old eyes searched out some sign of enemy presence. The he saw it. A shadowy shape seemed to glide into the window frame. He continued his gaze, trying to make out what he was seeing. Then he saw it. The outline of an RPG. He bellowed an order.
''Everyone get the fuck out, RPG, 11' oclock!''
He pulled his door open, gripping his rifle and letting his tan colored desert boots hit the hard packed sand. The road wasn't even paved.
''Cover now, away from the vehicle.''
He began to run, heading for a nearby wall in the patio of a restaurant. His fireteam did the same, rushing away from the vehicle for cover. The men in the truck behind sat bewildered. Ross motioned for them to get out.
The hit came as a complete shock. The RPG round struck the front grill of the humvee. His eyes were assaulted by a flash, then by flying dust and dirt. He could feel the heat and pressure from the blast.
''God damn.''
He blinked a couple of times, getting the dust and dirt from his eyes but causing them to tear. Quickly he looked around. The front of the humvee had been blown to shreds and it had actually been pushed backwards and slightly to the side. The soldiers in the truck behind it had begun to jump out onto the street heading for cover. The gunner in the truck remained however, firing numerous .50 cal rounds down range, at the window where the RPG had been fired from. Suddenly, AK fire erupted from the buildings around Ross.