Black Hearts, Inc. - Professional Merc. Org. IC - Scenario B Thread
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Red Offerings on 15-05-2013, 03:53:26</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Black Hearts, Inc. - Professional Merc. Org. IC - Scenario B Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Red Offerings</strong> on <strong>15-05-2013, 03:53:26</strong>
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				<div align="center">(http://gp1.wac.edgecastcdn.net/802892/production_public/Artist/1626448/image/small/1307282506_t_shirt_logo.jpg)<br><br>Profile Thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=173993.0)&nbsp; &nbsp; OOC Thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=174092.0)&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Main IC Thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=174103.0)&nbsp; &nbsp; Scenario A Thread (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=174105.0)</div><br><br><span style="font-family: times new roman;" class="bbc_font">Welcome to Black Hearts, Incorporated! This is just another one of your friendly neighborhood professional mercenary organizations. I'm you're Intel Specialist, Siouxsie, which means I'll be your go-to gal for -- my eyes are up here, 30 more seconds sweety, I promise -- mission information, latest intelligence, and any other important information you'll need for mission success. <br><br>Black Hearts is a professional mercenary group which also means that we operate within the legal parameters set forth by the paper-pushing powers-that-be. Any mercenaries employed by us are bound by contract, which means there won't be any random "Kill your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentation of their women," unless it's a legitimate mission anyways, sugar. No narcs or alcoholism because we want you at your very best and we will make you rue the day you joined our fine establishment if you dare go on mission under the influence of alcohol or narcotics and therefore putting the lives of the men and women who work with you on the line. Missions come frequently and they can last for however long it takes you and your team to successfully complete them. That means you'll be away from your families regularly and for sometimes long durations, so keep them happy! I don't like angry wives calling me. I don't get paid enough for that. If you can handle all of that then I think you'll like it here, welcome aboard!</span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Black Hearts, Inc. - Professional Merc. Org. IC - Scenario B Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Red Offerings</strong> on <strong>08-06-2013, 01:57:29</strong>
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				<div align="center"><strong>Group II's Misadventures in Antarctica - Arrival - Overall Success, Moderate</strong></div><br><br>Flying in a C-17 was an adventure all in itself. It was a large, military transport that could fit roughly 158 bodies, plus all of the cargo that accompanied them. The seats were made of cargo netting and at first could be comfortable. After a while though, sitting on a big harness could get pretty uncomfortable. Plus it was extremely difficult to find a moderately temperate place because there were pockets of hot air flow and pockets of stiff coldness. Once the plane had reached altitude, the team would be able to move around and even take their sleeping bags and stretch out if they didn't mind the cold air blowing in from some place. The crew was usually busy and therefore not overtly social, plus they were under orders that the mission this team was on was above their pay grades so they stuck to their own business. <br><br>The most excitement occurred during the mid-air refueling when it took the pilots of the C-17 and the fuel plane about 20 minutes to connect the line. <br><br>They arrived late in the morning and while their was a sharp wind howling across the white landscape, there was no blowing snow and the scene was rather cruelly beautiful. Alexander Island was actually on a narrow peninsula that jutted northward from the main body of Antarctica. There was a team of individuals there waiting for them on the landing pad and from the look of them, most were U.S. Army, while two were clearly scientists. They all had serious cold weather gear and the nipping cold made it obvious they were standing in single digit temperatures. One of the scientists adjusted their goggles, they were pink rimmed and judging from the subtle bulge beneath the heavy duty parka they wore, it was safe to assume this scientist was a female. <br><br>She waved at them enthusiastically as they all got off of the plane, her gloved hand wiggling in the air before she pointed towards the large snow cat and trailer that stood running behind them. Without speaking, the group turned and lead them towards the trailer. The inside would be warm, which was good because they had a fifteen minute drive to the main area of operations. A sergeant stood outside of the trailer and opened up a hatch on the side, he pointed to the cavity and motioned to the group's bags, indicating that they should put their bags in there prior to embarking onto the trailer properly.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Black Hearts, Inc. - Professional Merc. Org. IC - Scenario B Thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Deamonbane</strong> on <strong>14-06-2013, 01:53:58</strong>
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				He hated flying. Like, really hated. He could stand it as much as any person could something that they hated, with a fake smile and grinding one's teeth as he fought the urge telling him that he might survive a parachute drop, and leaned back into his seat. This was gonna suck more since he wasn't going to be able to sleep, so he scowled and resigned himself to his fate, wondering if he could ever get black heart to approve sea voyages for their transportation. It wasn't likely, but in his mind, worth it. He moved around the place checking his gear, rechecking it, looking over their skimpy mission parameters, running his eyes over the plane, looking over the dossiers of his teammates, and a hundred other small things that he needed to do to keep his mind off of the 3000 feet of pure air between him and a fiery death.<br><br>It was a difficult choice of what to use when going in. Being that they didn't have many hand-held guns the size big enough to kill the critters that they would be running into. Mainly rifles, single action, or light machine guns, all with kicks that made mules seem weak and tripods to help with it. He picked one that he had used before, the Mk 14 EBR. He brought a handful of gadgets that he wasn't sure would be useful, and wouldn't know until he knew more about the critters that they would be hunting down. If they were coldblooded, heat detectors would be useless. If they attacked in the middle of a snowstorm, motion sensors would be useless. He also brought a handful of grenade launchers, simple-use mines, among other treats.<br><br>When they finally landed, Tiago was gripping the armrests of his chair with a vice-like grip, ignoring the jeers of the crew of the craft. The moment that it came to a stop, he moved as quickly as he could, without losing his manly and brave appearance, to get the hell off of it.<br><br>The cold hit him like a slap on the face. He ignored the slap, as he preferred intense cold to intense heat anyway, and stepped down, greeting the woman there with a nod and a half-hearted salute, unsure if she was his superior, a secretary, or... anything. Always better to show respect, when in doubt. Talking was a little out of the question as, even though he did prefer intense cold, some warm once in a while would not go amiss.<br><br>Once they were inside, the warm-blooded Brazilian heaved a sigh of relief, leaving his bags in the hatch with the Sergeant.
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