D-38 Boss

Me, Elite, and HaloGeek actually switched to Halo 3 a few minutes after you left. Basically a repeat of the last Reach playdate: We went into forge, did nothing and talked about stupid things... Like me being a dog.

[Do it, we can be the bitter impoverished kids. It'll be fun! and really really depressing... The whole Idea i had for D.J., was he was lower class. That's why I picked Aszod. it makes sense for his skills too; he took boxing classes, worked out regularly, and has seen a few civilian legal firearms, so he knows how to reload and shoot, but not much else. I also handicapped him pretty bad, being practically uneducated.]

1. Retro Gamer 2. Likes KotOR 3. Named Lando Calrissian I think we'll get along just dandy! Welcome to the Forums!

[ Am I the only one who made an Untalented ****** for a character?]

[i EVEN PUT THAT HE DIDN'T SAY IT OUT LOUD!!! Dx] D.J. examined the rifle in his hands. The last gun he had seen was an old M6A Magnum back in Aszod, so this was a far-cry from what he knew how to use. He still remembered basic safety though. Gun on safe, pointed directly up, finger off the trigger, even if it isn't loaded. "Since when did they start putting Screens on guns?" He said to no one in particular, staring at the guns Holographic display.

[ Oh god.... so many feels from that exchange... DAMN YOU EMOTIONS!]

D.J. didn't know how to respond. The man standing next to him was related to the ******* who killed the one bright point of his life, but he was also the one who dealt out revenge for him. "Uh... no offense... I'm gonna stop talking for a bit now..." D.J. said awkwardly, not knowing how to end the conversation.

"Ivan? Wait, you killed someone? Outside of the military?"

"yeah.... yeah...." D.J. didn't hear one bit Cavril said. he was staring off into space, thinking. "Wow..." He thought. [NOT SAID! just clarifying.] "All my friends and family are either dead, or in jail..." For the first time in his life, D.J. felt alone. This small sandpit felt more like a desert. Isolation was something he wasn't used to, and he didn't want to get used to it. "Anyway, enough about me... What about you? You got people waiting for you back home?"

"Well, he's dead now. He got into a fight with a dude from another crew, and kicked his a--. A week later, they shot him in his own house. His name was Grant. He was smart. a lot smarter than me. He could've gone places, but he was on his own since he was 16. He had to drop out and work full time. Me an' him both took Boxing at the Community Center. The main thing I didn't like about him, was he had a really bleak perspective on life. He could whip out a few statistics, or odds, or a news story, and ruin your day. Hell, even your week! But he'd always turn it around with a joke. he would've been a great Comedian." D.J. kicked the sand again. He didn't feel home sick. There was nothing left for him at home. He missed the things that were already gone. He quickly shook it off, and tried to put on a grin. "He always said he'd die before he got out of that city. guess he was right."

U.N.S.C. Garuda, Earth orbit, Above Africa, October 20th, 3:30 PM Mathison and the other three members of TREC 1 Settled into their Drop pods. The Single Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicle, or SOEIV, is the standard drop pod used by the ODSTs. With a survival rate of 80%, they are the best chance ODSTs have of making it to the drop zone, but have a nasty tendency to drift off course. “Ok boys, make sure your gear is stowed, your harness is on, and your balls are there, we drop in 3.” Mathison said into his helmet’s radio. “Lugo here, I’m good to go.” “Logan. I’m ready.” “This is Ty, Ready to rock.” “Alright, just sit tight, hatches are comin’ down now.” The SOEIV’s doors swung down and clicked shut, followed by a distinct whoosh as the Interior pressurized. The following minutes were nearly silent, with the only noise being that of the Technicians checking, and double-checking the Pods. Mathison just hummed to himself. He been through hundreds of drops before, and this one would be no different. Ty, on the other hand, Checked and rechecked his harness. “You nervous, Kid?” Mathison said over his comm. “Kinda, yeah. I’ve been through a few drops before, but never in an urban environment.” “Don’t worry, if you hit a building, you’ll only feel it for a few seconds before you die.” Mathison said with a chuckle. “That’s….. Reassuring…” “I’m just messing with ya, you’ll be fine.” “Yeah…… yeah…..” The next minute seemed to last an eternity, until finally the lead technician’s voice crackled in their helmets. “All pods are set. Commencing drop in thirty seconds.” Ty cracked his knuckles, and put a tight grip on his pod’s control sticks. “Alright ladies, do or die time!” Mathison said. “20 seconds.” “Hey Sarge! I’ll race you down!” Lugo cackled over the comms. “Lugo, you know you can’t keep up with me!” Mathison snickered back. “10…. 9….” “Hey, new guy,” Logan said into the comm. “Uh, yeah?” “Stop breathing so heavily on the comms.” “Oh… sorry…” “5….. 4…..3…..2…..1…..” The air seemed to thicken, and time stood still for an instant. “Drop.” The four pods shot out of the drop bays, and were pulled into the upper atmosphere. “Tighten up the formation! We don’t need to get separated!” Mathison roared into his radio. “Can’t help it, cross wind is blowing us off course!” Lugo answered, struggling to keep his pod on target. The four pods shook as they entered the lower atmosphere, and suddenly, a huge Covenant carrier came into view. “That’s it? The force on Reach was way bigger!” Mathison though out loud. “Maybe the MAC’s took them all out?” Ty suggested. “No way, reports said they only got four or five…. And that the Chief got one by himself.” “By himself?!” “Almost makes soldiers like us unnecessary…” Mathison sighed. ‘Anyway, cut the chatter, and tighten up!” “Negative Sarge! Something’s locking up my controls!” Lugo shouted. “Mine too!” Ty added. “Same here.” Logan said calmly. “It’s the shielding! We’re passing through the carriers shields!” “Ah, Crap… Alright, when we clear it, try to get back in as tight as we can, and we’ll regroup in the city. Deploy Air foils in three…..two…..one…. Deploy!” The four pods launched their airfoils, slowing them down to a safe landing speed. They tried to close the formation, but they entered the cities airspace before they could get close enough. The pods smashed into the ground, a few blocks apart. Mathison opened his bay door and climbed out. “Oh man… Report in!” “This is Lugo, I’m good. I landed outside of the 8th street Hospital. Want me to come to you?” “Negative, wait there, we’ll come to you. Logan? You alive?” “Yes. I’m on the Corner of 3rd and Mandela.” “Alright, head to the Hospital. On 8th street.” “Moving.” “Hey kid? You there?” Ty’s reply was scrambled, but legible. “-m fine-…..-nded in the subway-……-y way up-….-at the Hospit-….” “Alright, get up here ASAP.” “-s Sarge.” Mathison retrieved his Shotgun from the Pod and turned to examine his surroundings. He had landed in a city park. He was alone, luckily, but the entire area felt eerie, completely silent save for the occasional gunshot or explosion, and the ever present Banshees screaming overhead. He shrugged off his nerves and started off toward 8th street. “Everyone keep off the main streets, Covies have a lot of air presence, and there are bound to be troops on the ground.” “Yeah… definitely troops on the ground…” Ty said over the comms, finally getting back above ground. “You have eyes on, kid?” “Affirmative, Platoon sized, Brutes and Grunts.” “What are they doing?” “Sweeping the buildings, probably looking for potential prisoners.” “Alright, give them a wide birth, you don’t have the gear to take them out on your own.” “Don’t have to tell me twice. I’m on the way to 8th street. See you there.” A few uneventful minutes later found them all meeting outside of the 8th street hospital. “Sitrep!” “No contacts, Hospital’s got quite a few civilians inside, along with the staff.” Lugo said. “Logan?” “Ran into a few on the way. I handled it.” “Good, Ty?” “Nothing other than the group at the Subway entrance. The might be headed this way though.” “Sounds like a good bet, ‘specially if we try to get these civies out of here…. Covies can’t resist a target like a Pelican.” Mathison pulled off his helmet and wiped his brow. “Alright, here’s the plan; Logan, you’re gonna head into the Hospital and set up a perch on one of the upper floors.” Logan nodded and jogged off. “Lugo, you and me are gonna stay here and organize the evacuation, and cover the civilians. Ty, you’re gonna head up the street, and spot targets for Logan. Don’t fire unless you need to. I don’t want you trying to take them on alone.” “Got it. You catch that Logan?” “Yeah.” “Alright, I’ll try to find some juicy ones for ya.” Ty sprinted off down the street. Mathison turned to Lugo. “New kids got a decent head on his shoulders.” “I give him that. Let’s see if he can keep it there.” “How many do we have inside?” “50 or so, 70 with the staff.” Mathison put his helmet back on, and switched radio channels. “Command, come in, this is TREC 1-1.” “This is command, we read you TREC 1.” Came the slightly static reply. “We’re at the Hospital on 8th street, Financial District. We’ve got a large group of Civilians here and they need to be evac’d. How copy?” “Solid copy. How many birds do you need?” “Probably two, send three to be sure.” “Copy that, Archangel 1,2, and 3 are on the way. ETA twenty minutes.” Ty’s voice crackled on the comms. “Sarge! I don’t know why, but that platoons headed your way!” “Already?!” “They may have tapped our comms.” Mathison slapped his forehead. “And I just gave them our position… Lugo! Get the staff to barricade the doors!” “On it!” Lugo ran inside the doors, and began shouting orders. “Logan! Are you in position?” “Almost. In the elevator now.” “As soon as you are, start dropping ‘em!” “With pleasure…” “Ty? Where are they now?” “Just turning onto 8th street now.” Mathison looked out to the city. The hospital was built on a dead end, with a large courtyard between it and 8th street. And the only way up to it was directly up the street. The Covies would be funneled in, but with Brutes, that was hardly an advantage. Mathison jumped as he heard the distinct Boom of Logan’s 12.7 caliber sniper rifle. “Jesus, Logan! You just took that friggin’ Brute’s jaw clean off!” Ty said into his radio. “Kill confirmed.” Logan responded quietly. “Alright… take the one on the right side, by the Red car. He’s got a Brute shot.” “I see him.” Another loud bang. “Ooo…. This is your brain… this is your brain on lead, any questions?” That earned a quiet chuckle from Logan. “Alright, you’ve got the grunts nice and confused. The next Group won’t be here for a few more minutes. Drop ‘em as you see fit. I’m gonna move to a better position.” “Roger.” Lugo had rejoined Mathison in the courtyard. “They moved some benches in front of the doors, and there are two Cops inside with Pistols, but we’re gonna have to hold them here.” “I had planned on it.” Mathison said, peering into his binoculars, watching as Logan did what he did best. “If Hawkeye up there keeps this up though, we won’t have much to worry about.” “What about the new guy? He doing his job?” The radio crackled again, almost as if to answer Lugo’s question. “Logan, I’ve moved to the Convenience store on the left side of the street. The next squad is coming in. All Brutes, Spikers and Plasma rifles. Don’t fire until they reach the Mailbox in front of the store.” Mathison looked over at Lugo and chuckled. “Sounds like it.” Lugo rolled his eyes and spoke into his radio. “Hey, New guy! If you’re in the Store, get me a soda.” “Yeah right. I’ll get right on that once Planet of the Apes is over. Logan, drop the one in front.” Another sharp response from Logan’s rifle. “Oh man… if he was still alive, he’d feel that in the morning…” Mathison sighed. “Kid, I asked you to spot, not give commentary.” “Sorry Sarge. Logan, take the one on the left, near the street light.” Another load roar from the Anti-material rifle, and another dead Brute. “Reloading, hold off on new targets.” Logan said as he reloaded the rifle. “Make it quick, they’re gonna start running!” Ty poked his head over the shelf he was hiding behind. “oh… Sh--, Guys! We’ve got a problem…” “What?” “4 squads! All High ranking Brutes!” “Damn it… I thought this could be easy… Keep your head down and keep spotting for Logan, kid. Me ‘n’ Lugo are gonna get into a defensive position.” “Roger…” Ty whispered as the large group rushed past him. “I’m ready for more targets.” Logan said into his radio. “Ok…. Uh….” Ty poked his head out again, trying to pick a high risk target out of the crowd. “Near the blue fuel truck. Brute Commander. Grav’ hammer. Get him before he gets any closer. He might need a few shots.” Logan trained his scope over the Brute’s eye, but stopped. He saw a better target, and moved his scope over to the truck itself. “Keep your head down Ty.” “Uh… ok…..” Logan fired two shots at the truck, and two more at the trailer it carried. The resulting fireball launched the rushing brutes across the street, and blew out the windows of the Convenience store Ty was in. “Crap! A little warning next time?!” “You’re fine…” “Yeah, but that could have- Oh crap….” Ty’s comm cut out. “Ty?” Logan said into his radio. Receiving no reply, he moved his scope over to the store. He could just make out Ty hiding behind the counter as the Brutes searched around. “Sarge. Ty’s pinned down.” “What?” “The brutes are looking for him in the store.” “Crap… Lugo! Let’s make some noise!” “How much noise?” “Go Rambo, buddy.” “Awesome!” Lugo sprinted down the street, firing his AR and taunting the Brutes, while Mathison tossed frag grenades toward them. All the Brutes turned to investigate the noise and ran out to fight the new arrivals. “Thanks guys…” Ty said over the Comm. “I’m gonna flank behind them. See if I can drop them while you have their undivided attention.” “Good call! Logan! You are weapons free!” Logan decided to let his rifle reply for him, as he put another round perfectly through a brute’s skull, and searched for another target. Lugo and Mathison had taken position in the courtyard before the Hospital. “Kid? Feel like helping?!” “I’m moving in now! Watch the crossfire!” Ty crept behind a flipped car, and leaned out. Lugo and Mathison were holding their own, but they were under a lot of fire. He tucked the extended stock of the M7S into his shoulder, and fired off a quick burst. The brute he had aimed at cringed as the 5-by-23-millimeter rounds ripped into its back, spraying a fine red mist into the air, and fell over, dead. Ty had no time to admire his handwork, however, and moved to get a better shot at another target. “Sarge, why the hell did you bring a shotgun?” Lugo asked as he slapped a fresh mag into his MA5B. “It seemed like a good idea at the time…” Mathison said, swapping the shotgun out for his sidearm. “In a street-to-street op?” “Shut up and keep shooting!” Mathison ordered as he hopped up to fire, putting two rounds through a cowering Grunt’s methane tank, sending him spinning through the air. “Hell, I didn’t know we were gonna get a fireworks show!” Lugo chuckled. He leaned over the low wall they were using for cover, and shouldered his AR. A brute was charging towards him. “Big mistake, Monkey!” Lugo squeezed the trigger, emptying the 32 round mag into the Brute’s torso, stopping him, literally, dead in his tracks. “Please tell me someone’s keeping score!” “Lugo! Less talk-y, more shoot-y!” Mathison barked. “You always spoil the fun…” Lugo groaned, reloading his rifle.

D.J. sighed again. "Didn't have a TV either... My family was about as broke as you can be, and not be homeless." He dug his foot into the sand. "Most of the fights I got into were because someone attacked one of my crew. We were all poor kids, factory workers. So we stuck together. eventually we got into a beef with some other gang, and we just started to battle over turf. I've seen more than a few friends buried, and I've always gotten revenge for them. Never killed anyone, but I put a few people in the hospital."

"Father... HA! That's funny." D.J. deflected the question. "Dead beat ******* left before I was born." He chuckled to himself. "Yeah, so it's safe to say he didn't teach me S---. Don't know much about Earth, just know it's important." Secretly, D.J. wished he'd stop asking about history, or math, or whatever they learned in school. He knew he was stupid, he just didn't like to be reminded of it.

"Yeah... I dropped out of school as soon as I could, I couldn't afford it. Was never really that good either." D.J. shook his head. "I can't even divide right." He said with a chuckle. "What about you? You go to an Ivy League school?"

"Japan invaded China? When?" D.J. asked, Scratching his head.

"Well, it was hard to get back home, mainly because any high quality stuff was sent to the U.N.S.C. So, maybe we might have some decent stuff." D.J. Took another swig from his canteen, and sit it back up. There was less blood in it this time. "I'm excited for shooting training now. Haven't used a gun since... well..." D.J. trailed off.

"What? oh... no.. that was my older brother, Jason. He turned down the wrong alley..." D.J. sighed heavily. "I didn't like him much, hell, I hate most of my family, but No one deserves to die like that..." D.J. rubbed the back of his neck. "That's... kinda the reason I'm here too... Don't tell anyone, but I'm not exactly... welcome, in Aszod anymore."

D.J. just gave Cavril a quizzical stare. "Yeah..... Useless....." D.J. liked the Russian, but for a reason he couldn't rightly explain, he made him uncomfortable. He shrugged it off, thinking; "It's hard to fully like a guy who kicked you in the face..." "So, where are you from? Not Russia, right?"

[JL, just make a friggin' character and have some fun with it. it can't hurt to get some practice playing a character you don't usually play.] "I don't know if that was a compliment..." D.J. said as he cracked his neck. His head was still spinning from the kick. He flopped down into the sand, and sat watching the other recruits. Some of them we're good, but others... They we're the exact kind of people who ended up dead back home; all talk, no walk. One in particular had been jawing off the entire time about how no one could beat him, but now found that he couldn't contend with the smallest of the recruits. "Pathetic... You see that guy? He's got no friggin' clue what he's doin'..."

[ sounds good. ITS ON YOU OTHER PEOPLES!] "Man, I haven't even eaten yet... I don't wanna think about more training right now..." D.J. lamented. he knew it wouldn't matter either way, but hunger was hunger. He grabbed his canteen, and took a swig of water, swishing it around his mouth to clean the blood off of his teeth, before spitting it back out.

D.J. sat up and spat out some blood and sand. "No... you think?" D.J. groaned as he rubbed the fresh bump on his head. "Well, step 1 failed... don't get kicked in the face...." He pulled himself up and offered his hand to Cavril.

The kick caught D.J. entirely off guard, and he could feel his teeth chatter from the impact. His own punch missed, but he quickly decided a draw was better than embarrassing himself. D.J. quickly turned, grabbing the flying Russian's back leg, and turned him into the ground, causing both of them to fall into the sand.