dryskim

"Okay, question from the dumbf*ck in the group, why are we here? This is friggin' Harvest, they sent us straight from Reach, to Harvest. Do they not have a detachment of grunts here?" The Lance Corporal, loaded down with a heavy ruck of M41 reloads and affirmentioned SPNKr rattling against his kit, continued to trudge across the frost coated tundra, "F*cking terrorists. I swear to God they've already won if the UNSC has to relocate a squad halfway across the galaxy just to ruin these retards' day."

Salvinski frowned as he checked over the message now visible on his data-pad. How the hell did the Sarge know about his sexual exploits? He had this wonderful young Marine with low self-esteem giving him a quick 'diagonstic check' to confirm all his bits and pieces worked, and here he was getting orders to grab gear and jump ship. She was taking her time in a way he very much enjoyed and he had to admit, Lieutenant Holiday was quite the gal for setting him up with a high-quality piece of ***. Of course, he wouldn't be enjoying that *** thanks to new developments. She glanced up at him, big blue orbs staring into his soul while her lips were wrapped firmly around his- "Look, I don't want to rush you or anything," a chill went down his spine as she proved once again how adept she was in her field and how much he was going to be missing out on, "But - I - uh, deployment. Yeah." Their was a half-nod of understanding, though her position or current activities didn't cease in the slightest. Instead, she started giving him 110% - in short, she was providing more driven then any other Marine Salvinski had ever met. And here she was being driven to do her best, while sitting between his legs. She finished her rundown, he retrieved his pants, gave her a pat on the top of the head while she finished licking the last traces from her lips and he dashed out into the hallway before taking off at a run. About the point where Salvinski left the room, Lieutenant Holiday wandered in in nothing more than a pair of shorts, "Maddie, where'd that guy run off to?" "Mission," Madaline replied. "How was-" Madaline's impish grin served to answer that question quite well. Her grin widened as Holiday slid her shorts down toned thighs until the black stretch fabric puddled around her ankles. --- Meanwhile, Salvinski was rushing down the hallway failing to realize he was actively missing out on the chance at a three-way with a hot Lieutenant and one of her subordinates. Instead, he was slipping on body armor and loading magazines with 7.62 while two hot and ready women set upon eachother like rabid animals.

((Alright-alright-alright, not my intention to cause more drama than the RP itself.)) (Let me state my case here before you immediately start tossing around words with more stars than letters. NOW, I'm not necessarily posting from MY perspective on things. I'm RPing a UNSC Marine. A UNSC Marine, who may not exactly have fought the entire Human-Covenant War, but he fought in it. [Presumably LCPL Polonsky did as well, judging by his outburst] I'm not going to sugar-coat it for you, he's a racist.) ((Towards aliens, not people of other races. Just clarifying that.)) (When I RP, I RP Lance Corporal Joseph Salvinski - I don't RP dryskim - sure, their is a bit of projection present, but my intention is to act in a manner befitting of the character in my head. He's a Marine, he doesn't care if he hurts someone's feelings, he's seen what the Elites have done to humanity - and frankly, that's probably still a sore spot.) (If you want a rogue Marines subplot, feel free to take over Lieutenant Holiday, she's just as racist as Salvinski based on her last string of comments that so dearly offended you. Heck, if you want to RP out some agression, have Arby run into Sal. I'm sure we could work out something that'll result in Salvinski having a broken spine, fractured pelvis, and unable to utilize the left hand side of his body.)

"......Polonsky did what now?" Their was quiet silence in the elevator as the Lieutenant's face shifted from shock, to anger, to joy, and back to anger, and then settled on indifference. "Split-lip probably deserved it, congratulate him for subduing such a threat to our sanity - but if anybody asks, you repremanded him severely," for the second time, the Lieutenant eased the headset out of her ear and returned it to her pocket. She caught Salvinski's gaze, "Trouble on the bridge." "Involving a....Split-lip?" Salvinski asked hesitantly. The Lieutenant nodded and sighed in one epic gesture of all gestures, "Our distinguished guest. And here I thought after the last one we wouldn't have to deal with another Arbiter," a longer sigh and a hand swept through her hair, "But apparently, this one f***ed up badly enough to get the title. Sounds like this time he demanded to speak with whoever runs FLEETCOM," she chuckles lightly, "As if just one person is FLEETCOM. F***ing aliens. Like we didn't deal with enough of 'em during the war." "Yeah, I prefered when it was shoot on sight when it came to them. I've got my Elite tooth necklace laying around somewhere, probably with my jar of Jackal fingers." "Seriously?"

The brunette slowed to a halt, digging in her running shorts pocket for a moment before producing a ear piece. The Lance Corporal gave her a quizzical aside glance- "This is Lieutenant Holiday, what do you need, Frankie?" Lieutenant? Force Recon or not, Salvinski was in over his head. "Arby's having a hissy fit on the bridge? Yeah, just make sure he doesn't break anything. Keep me posted," she plucked the ear piece frm her ear and returned it to her pocket, "Something wrong, Lance Corporal?" "Uh, no, Lieutenant," he managed, the elevator thankfully dinging softly in the background, "After you? Ma'am?" He could see th grin flash across her face for a moment, that devilish twinkle of the eye, but he stilled stepped onto the elevator. Or otherwise he'd look half-retarded waiting out Satan's personal elevator only to not board it.

Salvinski paused as he waited for the lift at the end of this ridiculously long hallway to whisk him away to the next level of the ship, where he'd continue his post-mission jog/attempt at wooing the ladies aboard with his feats of physical endurance and well-defined UNSCMC-issue body. As he jogged in place, so far, no takers. "Had better luck on the f***ing Knight-II," he grumbled, rapid fire tapping the call button, "Why the f*** is this thing so godd**** slow?" His grumbling ceased as a brunette ponytail swished past his peripheral vision. He swiveled his head like a Warthog's LAAG. The brown-eyed brunette offered him an aside glance, "Hey-?" Her eyes traveled down his chest, hovering just above his right pectorial. He wasn't entirely certain why he'd taken the brutally worn Lance Corporal bars off his dress uniform and pinned them to his skivvie shirt, but he had. Something about Lance Corporal pride month or some such bulls***. He'd have to punch Lil' Mike in the face for this ****-blocking idea, no prime piece tail wanted a grunt with seven years ******* M41s and only one stripe to his name. "Lance Corporal-" she held out the word Corporal, indicating his moment to shine by providing his name. "Salvinski," he said, "Joe Salvinski," as an after-thought he added, "Force Recon." She just nodded, a slight, "Ah," escaping her lips in that attractive way that only attractive women can, "So, Lance Corporal Salvinski, you're a big tough Force Recon Marine? Here to sweep little me off my feet with your bravado and black belt in Karma Sutra?" "Never dreamed of it," he replied through his teeth, Damnit, she's onto me.

Lance Corporal Salvinski emerged from the depths of the Elephant, flipping the groin protector up and holding it in place with his left hand while his right hand went to town on groping his balls. Somehow during the a**-numbing three (or however many hours it'd been) ride his nuts had decided to sweat up a storm inside his fatigues, leaving his bits coated in a hefty layer of sweat - he rationalized it as something akin to a nonstick cooking spray being applied to his genitals. A few more minor adjustments that resulted in his slung MA5 clattering against his M41 before the FORECON operator with a properly adjusted junk and nothing more to do than b**** about the fact they had a whole nother mile to drive in this ungodly slow vehicle, he let the groin flap drop back into place. "Jesus-f***ing-tap-dancing-Christ, 'bout damn time," the Marine grumbled as all Marines do, "This is seriously cutting into my beer time."

......was that directed to me? Because I'm fairly certain I'm sure how to operate a keyboard, I'm not that new. I just don't want to RP a mission for my one Marine all by myself. I have this certain fundamental belief that if I'm going to RP, I'm going to interact.

Is it possible that I could join Heljumper's mission, I'm not really too sure of the idea of RPing a mission by myself.

Name: Joseph Salvinski Affiliation: UNSC Marine Corps, FORECON Rank: Lance Corporal Race: UNSCMC Assaultman MOS0351, Caucasian, Male homosapien Appearance: Overall, Salvinksi is a rather well-built, physically strong Marine. But that doesn't translate to bulky, he's just an average sized individual crowned with short cut reddish-blond hair and gray eyes. Facial structure is narrow and sharp. Has a scar on his bicep thanks to a prior wound, though it has healed up relatively well in the intervening years. Wears the standard UNSC pattern fatigues in whatever camouflage pattern is more acceptable for the terrain, and in anything but frigid weather he has a habit of rolling his sleeves to the elbow for that minute improvement in ventilation. Aside from standard M52B combat armor, he has an attached recording device attached to the side of his helmet (a la Jenkins). The rear of his helmet has his name written in block letters with a felt-tip marker. Personal equipment that is non-standard are his orange-lensed ballistic glasses and his hard-knuckle tactical gloves. Weapons/Equipment: MA5D ICWS, M41 SSR MAV/AW Background: Technically, he's a Martian. Technically. Born on Mars in the early days of 2532, five years into what would become a nearly three-decade war with an alien empire known as the Covenant. And just as suddenly, Misriah Armory was drug out of it's slow period with another seemingly endless war, which meant more work for Joseph's father. Joseph would live a relatively normal childhood, growing up mostly unknowing of the horrors of the war alongside most of the population. However, instead of going into the weapon manufacturing business he decided to put those weapons to use as a UNSC Marine. Private Salvinski hit the frontlines in 2550 and would fight through the last two bloody years of the war, earning himself a Purple Heart in the process thanks to an unlucky meeting with a Spiker round. The following four years, would be made up of the equivalent of 'busy-work' for the military, and just as quickly the chances for rapid promotions died out as well. Stuck as a terminal Lance Corporal stationed in the middle of nowhere, he pushed for a transfer, and surprisingly enough actually got it approved. Of course, he didn't plan on running babysitting operations, but that's what he got. A FORECON trained Marine, riding a 400-ton transport carrying timber and instant cement.