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Legends. Stories, scattered through time. Mankind has grown quite fond of recounting the many exploits of heroes and villains, forgetting so easily that we are remnants - byproducts - of a forgotten past.

Join the ranks of Remnant’s prestigious Academies as you fight to protect the Four Kingdoms from the clutches of the evil Creatures of Grimm. Alternatively, you may work towards bringing the world to its knees by fighting against the last sparks of humanity. Red Like Roses is based on the hit web-series RWBY by Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth Productions.

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 Circle the Trucks [Closed], «DEATH-ENABLED»
Ryees
 Posted: Apr 1 2016, 11:52 AM
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«DEATH-ENABLED»
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Late at night under a moonless, starless sky, a convoy of military vehicles quietly hummed their way through the streets of Ares. Seven vehicles in all, the back six were canvas-topped transport trucks used for hauling arms and cargo long distances. The lead vehicle was a humvee with an open back and a trio of men with automatic rifles perched in the bed that stared out at the landscape around them. They were an oddity; they wore Atlas military uniforms, but had what looked like black masquerade masks pinned over their faces, obscuring their face save for their mouths and jaws. The Atlas military insignia emblazoned on the sides of all the vehicles had been covered with black tarpaulin that rippled loosely under the wind.

Another oddity was the small mound of bodies lying in the back of the humvee. Those bodies also bore the Atlas military uniform.

The convoy reached the edge of the city and paused at the checkpoint, as per protocol. A small number of Atlas guards milled out of the checkpoint building, approaching the lead vehicle, calmly asking for some document or another regarding the convoy's business outside the city. Calmly and professionally, the men in the back of the lead vehicle stood and leveled their rifles at the military personnel. After a quick burst of gunfire, they hopped out of the truck and began lifting the corpses. Two more bodies joined the pile in the back of the truck.

The man in the passenger seat of the same vehicle slipped out and disappeared into the checkpoint's main building, evidently hunting for the gate controls. In the meantime, the convoy sat waiting at the gates.
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Sol Moon
 Posted: Apr 1 2016, 05:27 PM
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The roar of gunfire hit Sol in the chest like a dagger of sickly cold dread right to the heart. A sense of unreality washed over him and he pressed his back as firmly against the alley wall as he could. He could taste bile, and for a moment his knees felt weak. A cold sweat soaked his forehead and his golden eye was wide.

Sol had seen men die in battle before, but seeing a man give his life to a cause and seeing the same man gunned down in cold blood were two entirely different experiences. It was only through biting his left palm until he tasted blood that he avoided yelling or cursing in shock.

He'd been following the convoy for two blocks now, having happened upon the curious procession after being kicked out of a local bar for harassing one of the servers. It had been odd from the first, and Sol had been immediately suspicious of the black masks, tarps,and lack of any unit identification. What had stayed his hand from doing anything but observing had been the remote possibility of some sort of covert operation. However, Sol refused to believe that any clandestine mission was deep enough beneath the radar to warrant the murder of Atlesian citizens

It boiled his blood that his uncertainty had cost honorable men their lives before he had a legitimate reason to intervene.

"This is Solomon Moon, Second Year,
Calling Titan Academy and the Atlesian Military. Send help immediately to Sector 8, border gate Delta. Unidentified combatants in Atlesian Military fatigues have opened fire upon Atlesian security. Numerous casualties. Unidentified element is attempting egress of city border.

Repeat,

UNIDENTIFIED COMBATANTS, NUMEROUS CASUALTIES, SECTOR 8, GATE DELTA, IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE REQUIRED."

Sol growled as he hit the send button on his scroll. He could only hope that someone was monitoring the dispatch console for written transmissions. He dared not risk compromising his position by making the request out loud. He gave it a moment and then hurriedly punched in the coordinates for his resupply locker, correcting for the position of his targets. Then he waited another few moments before punching in an additional request for his equipment locker as well, which he set to deploy within a dozen feet of his own position.

Then he waited, centering himself and finalizing his plan in his head. There was a strong possibility of no help coming in time, so he had to assume he was on his own. His objective as it stood, was to stall the unidentified element as long as possible. If they could cross the border and enter the country, there was no way for him to give chase without a vehicle of his own, thus, he needed to disable their vehicles somehow. Luckily the convoy was travelling single file and that meant he could buy some time by taking out the escort first. A couple of well placed shots should do it.

Then, just on cue, the night lit up as a gunmetal grey streak, trailing a flaming tail, pulverized the humvee, crushing through the hood and into the engine block. The vehicle lurched, as if dancing drunkenly to the chorus of twisting g metal as the heavy object punch right through its hood. A few moments passed and then another streaking object crashed down with a earth shattering boom within ten feet of Sol. As the doors of the second locker swung open, Sol dived out of the alley and into the street, taking cover behind the reinforced steel as he hurriedly attached the dust cannon to his prosthetic arm.

It was too long a shot to rely upon the cannon, as the projectile would have to travel more than thirty feet to reach its target and would have long lost its ability to explode by the time of impact. However, Sol knew that his resupply locker was full nearly to overflowing with fire dust crystals and refined fire dust for his cannon.

While the masked troops were still distracted by the obliteration of the leading vehicle's engine block. Sol took aim and fired, lobbing a globule of concentrated fire dust right through the doors as the locker opened.

This post has been edited by Sol Moon: Apr 1 2016, 05:59 PM

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Aesop Goose
 Posted: Apr 1 2016, 07:36 PM
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I'm just trying to be, the best me I can be
When I fall down, It's just me and the ground.
Aesop's scroll jingled softly...

Aesop had been enjoying a sort of night on the town. Free from exams for the moment and caught up on homework, Aesop had gotten restless in the dorm and decided to take a quick walk through the town. It wasn't an unusual event for the red haired man, and the thought of bringing someone from his team along hadn't really crossed his mind. The city of Atlas was one of the safest, plus Aesop was a third year and practically a hunter already. There wasn't much he couldn't handle on his own, and few who would dare attack him in public, even on a night like this

Aesop's scroll continued to jingle...

A dull boom brought Aesop out of his trance and back to the real world. He slipped his scroll from his pocket and pulled it open. He quickly scanned the message and flicked the screen over to call his own weapon case in. He had linked himself into the emergency transmission half way through his second year, along with a few of the other students who wanted in on some of the more immediate action. Now, he was glad he had. Turning on the ball of his foot, Aesop took off at a sprint. A whistling alerted him to his incoming swords and shield before the pod crashed down a few yards ahead.

It only took a second to shrug his shield onto his back and pull the swords from the pod before he sent the pod back and took off again towards the explosion. As he ran he popped a cinnamon red sugar candy in his mouth, letting the dust enter his system before the fight. It would take him almost a minute to arrive. He just hoped that wasn't a minute too late.

I am no king. I have no throne
TAG: all?
WORDS: 302
OUTFIT: here
NOTE: Lets hope Aesop's first thread isn't his last


This post has been edited by Aesop Goose: Apr 1 2016, 07:42 PM

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Cray-22
 Posted: Apr 1 2016, 08:13 PM
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That sound.... Gunfire? Wait, there! A signal with an encrypted distress signal! Hostiles in sector 8? Surely the general wouldn't mind if he went to help, right? He sent a signal out to call for his weapon pod. No way he was missing this. Cray stood up atop a roof in sector 8 he had climbed onto to listen to the radio and have some alone time before curfew. The sound of gunfire had come from two blocks ahead and towards the East (I assume). He threw back his hood, revealing his shaggy pink hair and robotic antennae, which folded down into their usual headphone shape.

He put his hat on and stepped off the roof, plummeting to the sidewalk below. He crouched as he landed, transferring his momentum into the ground and the shock absorbers in his shins, resulting in the concrete beneath his feet cracking in a spiderweb pattern. "Oops," he muttered as he surveyed the damage he had caused. A problem for another time. For now he had to investigate this distress signal. It was a thirty-three second sprint to the corner two blocks down, where his weapon pod would meet him. Then, he calculated, another thirty second sprint to the gate at top speed, but a cautious approach would be best since he was sure that gunfire would be followed by more as he saw a weapon pod and a supply pod drop towards the gate. "Best get moving," he said to himself as he took off, his jacket flapping in the wind behind him as he ran in a full sprint.

As predicted, his pod crashed down into the intersection just as he arrived. The door opened up and he quickly retrieved a sheathed katana, his Sonic Fang. He hooked the sheath onto his belt and sent his pod back before sprinting once more towards the gate, where he was sure a battle was beginning. He had come to the city tonight to get away from everything and instead he'd found a fight. Great.

This post has been edited by Cray-22: Apr 1 2016, 09:14 PM

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"The measure of intelligence is the ability to change.' ~Albert Einstein
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Tierra Rochelle
 Posted: Apr 2 2016, 12:17 AM
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ARTILLERY PRINCESS*
There is my sweetheart down in the orchard, Oh how I wish I were there myself, There is the house and there is the barn; There is the door of the cow house open. Dacw 'nghariad
S
ilence filled the night air. Tierra was heading back from the maintenance that she had to get done on AMAGAM. As she strode through the rather empty streets she was far from uncomfortable. She popped bubblegum into her mouth before jumping when she heard gunfire. In the streets of Ares of all places? She blinked a few times before receiving a distress signal from one of the Titan students on her phone. She blinked a few times as she saw a rather recognizable face flash past her. The pink hair. It was unmistakable. Although she was not good as a frontline fighter she was good in the background so she figured she'd quietly follow her teammate along, keeping AMAGAM at the ready for any sort of action. A part of the rather plain looking girl paused for but a moment to evaluate the situation. Would she even be of help? As she usually did, Tierra questioned her ability to do anything but get in the way.

No, Tierra. Backing away from this isn't going to do anything. If you're there. Maybe you can help. Mom would do the same. Tierra then began moving more quickly, keeping herself to the shadows, however but still sending a message to her teammate so she knows that he's got her for backup.

The third year had also recognized the name of the person that had sent out the signal. Perhaps this was a good chance to see what he could do as well. After all, even though Tierra adored her team she did understand it was impractical to only work with them. She wanted to know about the other students and see how she could work with them as well. As the girl ran along to the place that Sol had reported she paused before going much closer,

"Third year, Tierra Rochelle reporting in," The way her voice was, how collected and cautious but also surefooted. This was not the voice of the girl that people would meet in the library or in school in general. "Solomon, once I find your position I'll be there to back you up."

Tierra remained behind a nearby building as she assessed the situation. As soon as she found approximately where Sol was she spun the wheel of dust capsules near the base of the cannon, stopping it on one of the orange capsules. Considering how late it was, Tierra knew that these men would be in for a hell of a surprise as soon as she pulled the trigger.

BY RIMY ♥ OF BTN


This post has been edited by Tierra Rochelle: Apr 2 2016, 01:23 AM
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Ryees
 Posted: Apr 2 2016, 01:15 PM
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Bang!

The night was rent by the sound of a steel bunker crashing through the hood and engine block of a military humvee. The vehicle reared itself up and bucked the bodies in its bed to the front of the bed, callously shuffling the corpses about like rag dolls. The men most closely surrounding the truck reacted quickly and with great coordination, two of them taking reflexive aim at the locker while the other two whipped their sights around in the night. The only reaction they had time for was a pair of frightened shouts as a red blob of energy ripped the darkness down the middle and impacted the locker.

The resulting explosion was immense. The humvee was ripped apart from the engine block outwards, sending fire and shrapnel along with a vicious shock wave caterwauling out from the source of the explosion. The force of the blast itself began to knock all four men off of their feet, but they would have no such time: The fire and shrapnel that immediately followed tore through the blast zone took its opportunity to pepper them with molten slag, burning through their thin outer clothing and searing into the armor beneath. The material that flew into their faces melted skin and splintered bone in the bare instant before the fire engulfed them; after that, they simply were no more, replaced by a melted puddle of ash, slag, and flesh.

The doors of the other six trucks flew open, a man jumping out of each door. The all brought rifles to bear as they milled out away from the trucks, six on each side of the convoy. For each side, the closest man to Sol set his sights on the perceived thread, took aim, and pulled on their weapons' triggers. Those two men sent a hail of gunfire down range towards Sol, bullets rattling against the locker with hollow thuds, but otherwise inducing no harm to either the locker or the boy who sheltered behind it. The other ten men trained their rifles on the boy, but otherwise held their fire as well as their position.

~ Combat log ~
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Tierra Rochelle
 Posted: Apr 2 2016, 03:20 PM
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ARTILLERY PRINCESS*
There is my sweetheart down in the orchard, Oh how I wish I were there myself, There is the house and there is the barn; There is the door of the cow house open. Dacw 'nghariad
T
ierra wasted no time now that she located the object of the men from the truck's interest. No it wasn't time to be quiet it was time to assure that one of the others in the area wasn't going to be pinned down for very long. She pulled the trigger, sending an orange dust-packed bullet hurtling towards the fray in front of the locker. From behind the locker, Sol was likely to witness the bright flash going off in front of the locker. She smirked, knowing for certain that this would disorient the men. She then spun the wheel of her rifle, taking aim. This time, she stopped on ice and took aim at the ground near the trucks.

She pulled the trigger again, chewing on her gum as she did so. As the dust began to take effect, a large sheet of ice spread along the past before spikes began to jut out in various places and hopefully piercing the tires. "...two things down. I should probably locate before they find my position." She said quietly to herself, lifting her rifle up so that she could run off to a different position. This time she made her way up one of the fire escapes of a nearby building, choosing to set herself up there. She plopped down and aimed her rifle from the different vantage point.

BY RIMY ♥ OF BTN


This post has been edited by Tierra Rochelle: Apr 2 2016, 03:20 PM
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Sol Moon
 Posted: Apr 2 2016, 04:49 PM
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As much as he would have liked to see the glorious fruits of his handiwork, shrapnel, peppering either side of the street like a rolling thunder of fire crackers, afforded him no time to admire the view. With a vulgar curse he hit the deck and attempted to squeeze himself into the hollow provided by the open doors of his locker, and with a mad adrenaline fueled haste he began cobbling together the rest of his prosthetic arm's components, beginning with the rest of the dust deployment system and concluding with the temperature resistant armored shell, all the while as bullets ricocheted off of the makeshift cover, sparks exploding into the night less than a foot above the top of his head. There was a sharp hissing followed by a loud whirring as the arm tried to vent heat as the systems began performing routine startup functions, and for the moment the weapon was rendered useless by the extreme build up of heat generated by the opening shot.

With a grunt of frustration to already be without half of his arsenal this early into the engagement, Sol jammed his left hand into the locker, and there was a metallic clank that shook his entire arm as the sheath of his sword, Whisper, affixed itself to the bracer on his left wrist. Finally he grabbed a handful of a half dozen paper cylinders, each containing a raw dust crystal for use with his semblance, (one blue, one yellow, one green, and three red), and his right hand came online once more just in time for him to begin loading said cylinders into slots that decorated the bracer that also supported his sword.

At least two of the soldiers were firing upon his position, which meant that at least a half dozen more were just waiting. It was an obvious attempt, at least to a man who specialized almost exclusively in fire based weaponry, to flush him out of his position, or hold him in place while the rest made to flank, in either case, Sol had to move.

There was no shame in retreat now. He had accomplished his objective of stalling the convoy, and now it was time to ensure his own survival. He began rummaging through the raw crystals still in his locker, before pulling free a stone in the shade of a citric green.

Just then, something streaked over his head, traveling in the opposite direction of the incoming fire. Though he saw it only for a moment, the resulting flash that followed stretched around his bunker like a glowing set of wings, painting his side of the locker in deep shadows. It had to be backup, because if that shot had been meant for him there was no reason why it should have missed.

The relief was short lived, replaced with a surge of grim purpose. He could not afford to waste the opportunity provided by his unexpected ally. With light still blooming like the sun, Sol rose from his cover and tossed the green crystal towards his foes, counting on the covering fire of his ally to protect him. Like a field of blood red fire springing to life across his body, punctuated by midnight blue smoke and shadows, Sol's aura flared visibly in preparation to receive any incoming punishment, but also in anticipation of his semblance. Like a fanned flame his aura lashed outward in every direction, as a shock wave tore free of his outstretched palm, and enveloped the lobbed green crystal. Like light through a prism the blast took on the traits of the crystal at the same time that it shattered into a billion fine particles, each of which their own crystal prism. The boom was deafening, like a hundred horns beating a single blast in perfect unison, and silencing even the roaring voice of the gunfire with the might of it's volume. And then there was the light, the air itself seemed to become the liquid embodiment of the noon day sun, bright enough to burn shadows into cement and bleach the the black military tarps.

Sol closed his eye and turned away from the burst of light and sound, and then began running, making a straight sprint towards the cover of the nearest alleyway.

This post has been edited by Sol Moon: Apr 2 2016, 04:51 PM

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The wisest path to peace is to have a bigger and more terrible weapon than your enemy.
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At least that way you have an advantage when peace inevitably fails.
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Aesop Goose
 Posted: Apr 2 2016, 07:35 PM
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I'm just trying to be, the best me I can be
When I fall down, It's just me and the ground.
Aesop skidded around a corner, the sound of gunshots close at hand. It had taken him less time than he had expected to reach his goal, the adrenaline pumping through his veins egging him on.

A bright flash silhouetted a girl on one of the roofs close by, quite obviously his teammate; Tierra. Aesop smirked, it was good he wasn't going to be fighting without someone he knew the style of. It would just make it that much worse of a day for whoever had decided that their town was the right one to hit up.

Turning back to his task at hand, Aesop turned sharply. Judging by his team-mate's position, if he just got another alleyway down he should be behind whatever or whomever was attacking. A flash of green light and deafening sound shook the ground, blowing out the windows of the buildings on either side of Aesop. Now was as good a time as ever

Ducking down his chosen alleyway, Aesop found himself on the opposite side of one of the trucks from his enemies. Using his momentum to push himself forward, Aesop vaulted the hood of the truck and brought the blades of his swords down towards the gap between one of the 'military' men's shoulder pads and helmet from behind. He used momentum to turn himself and if the blades stuck, the body, away from the rest of the men, showing them the thick shield on his back rather than his exposed limbs. Flame sparked at his lips as his excitement and fear crept up his spine. This was going to be a night to remember.

I am no king. I have no throne
TAG: all
WORDS: 273
OUTFIT: here
NOTE: Like a tin can...


This post has been edited by Aesop Goose: Apr 2 2016, 09:25 PM

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Cray-22
 Posted: Apr 2 2016, 09:16 PM
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First a flash of light from orange Dust, obviously from Tierra's cannon given the signal she had just sent Cray before firing, then an even brighter flash, as well as a deafening sound that nearly shorted out his auditory receptors. The metal man decided to take advantage of this and charged into the fray at high speeds, drawing his sword. If it were possible for anyone to see despite the blinding light, they would witness a blur of pink and white as the android came in for an attack, swinging his sword at one man's neck before fluidly transitioning into a stab towards the chest of the man behind the first. Cray rapidly hit the breaks, digging his heels into the ground as he came to a stop after the second attack, the momentum actually breaking the asphalt beneath him.

As the light from Sol's attack began to fade, Cray's form came into view of any who were still able to see as he flicked his sword to clean the blade of any blood. His hat had come off and was lying on the ground a few feet away from Sol, exposing his robotic ears which normally appeared to be headphones, but had opened up to reveal glowing turbines inside his head. His golden eyes glowed in the night and his pupils had a digital zero in them. This was his Overclock mode, and for the next five minutes, his already impressive abilities were boosted by a multiplier of three. He spotted Aesop as his eyes refocused and smirked, glad to have a skilled fighter he could rely on here.

This post has been edited by Cray-22: Apr 2 2016, 10:09 PM

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"The measure of intelligence is the ability to change.' ~Albert Einstein
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