Is not JL

IC 'Naw, I wasn't. I was stationed in New Alexandria, helping evacuate the citizens there. When we were given a choice to help evacuate those stuck here, obviously we agreed. There were some pelicans, a group of Falcons, but then the Covvies attacked en-route. I.....well, our aerial squad was separated, and then they took out my gunners. I know that there are survivors, but I'm the only one who made it here.....' I look around. We were in a forest....somewhere. 'I heard on a radio frequency tuned to some church about a guy named 'Rook'. Know him?'

IC While the other person - who, helmetless, was a female (I guess she isn't Rook after all) pick up the gun and started to shoot her restraints. Still, I couldn't busy myself with that. In a no-cover zone, the only element I had was surprise, and even as I sprayed my SMG into one Elite to my right and at the same time tried to fire my pistol into the face of one on my left, I couldn't handle this much recoil at the same time. By sheer luck the Sangheili to my right had idiotically drawn his sword and tried to charge me, only to be hit by each and every single bullet I fired. He fell, and I quickly ducked and rolled to the side, letting the other Elite's now raised Needle Rifle's purple crystallic shards pass over my head. Again, I unleashed all that I could shoot. In the side of my eye I saw the other girl fire off her Assault Rifle against one Elite before being forced back to cover. I prayed she would live long enough for something nice to happen, and I then prayed that I would live long enough for that to happen as well. The second Elite was downed, a war-cry emitting from it's 4 jaws as it fell to the ground. I looked around; there were 2 more, and both were shooting at the girl. 'Hey, other guy,' I heard as she shouted, 'I could use a little more help here!' I couldn't think of a witty response. Lucky for both of us, I knew just what to do. I span, jumped, grabbed hold of a nice something and pulled myself up and onto the turret seat of my Falcon. In seconds the Elites were cleared.

I love challenge maps like these. If only I had someone to play it with....(._.")

..... Wow. That's quite a.....big, long, specific strategy and build plan.

It isn't fair. I highly doubt that that actually happened, but if you're looking for a fix, you're probably not gonna get in. The only solution to such a thing would be to quit yourself.

OOC: You can't puppet my character but interaction doesn't require something like that. Simply something like 'Hey! There's a falcon above us!' *Picks up flare and waves* is simple enough when someone says 'requesting interaction.' And the problem here, is that I can't find a sufficient way to interact with you when my character is in a falcon, while yours is about to be torn apart limb by limb by Elites in the middle of nowhere. Oh well, I'll find a way. Watch. IC "Rook! Rook!" The sound was barely audible, but still, it sounded like a shout, as if a person had left a radio on but climbed some meters above before saying something loud enough for the radio's audio receptors to catch the sound. Quickly, I stared at the frequency. It hadn't changed from that of the one that had had good quality from the church of whatever it was called. So if it was on the same channel.....then the chances of a trap was less likely. I stared around my HUD, and, for a few seconds, sat there, in a flying Falcon, confused as to what to do. Should I help? See what was going on? Was it worth it? And then it all snapped back to me. My thought processes and reaction sped up as I reacted to the need to act; Somebody was shouting, and in a warzone, this probably meant something bad. I quickly responded to the radio, although I wasn't sure if somebody would respond, and meanwhile looked around. There's a radar on the Falcon's systems, so if I get close enough, I should be able to find any UNSC survivors holed up unless they had their brain-chips literally dug out of them. 'This is Jason Copernica Leonardo of the UNS- Yaknowat? Screw formalities, is there anyone out there? Rook? Rook's friend?' I struggled with the communications, a faint glimmer of hope of being around others surfacing in my mind. All the more reason for me to speed up, as I pushed on the throttle instinctively, though I had no idea where I had to go. * * * 5 minutes of knowing someone is out there but not knowing where feels like 5 minutes of fear, not of yourself but of others. For me, that means 5 minutes of suck. So when I saw, on my enhanced radar and scanner systems (Falcon's are beast!), it felt awesome! Then one of the enemies must've walked somewhere because beside the yellow dot, a red dot popped up as well. Thankfully it was nighttime so it was harder for them to see a Falcon hovering above them, but still, it wouldn't be that hard. Just one stare up and they'd be alerted to my position, so I don't have much time. Unless I'm wrong, that yellow dot must be the Rook dude I had heard to much about, but with that red dot being so close, he was probably captured, or worse. I have with me an SMG and silenced pistol. In the Falcon's storage locks I think there's either a marksman rifle or an assault rifle; I'll have to go and see. And of course, there was still the issue of what to do with my Falcon.... So.....I guess.....I couldn't do anything without gunners. That...sucks. Think. Think. There has to be a way to save the dude, so.......uh.......one Falcon Pilot against a group of Sangheili in a forested area. Chances are the Sangheili would have stopped in some clearing, and from the radar they DID stop, so..........what if........... Screw it, I thought, and started to move myself in position. Unless by a massive stroke of bad luck the yellow dot started moving, I could, for now, lock the Falcon in position. Slowly but surely, I opened the hatch; Instantly, the wind from the rotors, which still created sound (Please don't look this way), impacted me. If it weren't for my adrenaline rush, I would have been blown right out of the seat - which I now began to stand on - and my helmet slowly started to tell me the dangers. Shut up, I know the dangers. Slowly, with one hand, I reached out, and grabbed the handlebar on the side of the hull, and then, with one swoop, I jumped off. For a second, my entire body was hanging, about a hundred meters high in the air, the only thing that I had stopping me from falling to death being a small handlebar that probably could have been passed off as a thick pen. Then my momentum pushed me onwards and I landed right beside the gunner seat. Exhilarated, I tried not to shout in fear as I gripped the seat and pushed me forwards. For now the Falcon remained upright, although it did tilt several degrees. I hope that this didn't affect my plan, but.....quickly, I opened the storage hatch. Inside it was an Assault Rifle, ammunition loaded, the counter showing a clear crisp number, '32'. I prayed to whatever god stared upon Reach at the moment that the person I was trying to save down there had the ability to use a gun the moment I threw it down.....and that the gun won't be affected by the drop. And that I lived through the next few seconds, as I took the same scenic route back into the pilot cabin, swinging. Of course, this time, I didn't have both hands, and one of them I used to throw the assault rifle into the cabin first. That was when my other hand slipped. Ohgodohgodohgod nononononon!!!!!NO!NO! I frantically said in my mind, but I didn't have time to shout in fear. I simply couldn't react fast enough to fear, as my right hand, my gun-throwing hand, managed to grab hold of the edge. I grunted loudly, ignoring the fear, the butterflies that I most definitely didn't mistake for love in my stomach, as I tried my hardest to stress out my muscles, to at least pull myself back up. I wanted to survive. I wanted to survive. I...wanted...to...survive! 'Nnnnnggghhhhhhh!!!!' I grunted, the noise drowned out by the rotors that were in arms reach as I pulled myself back to the cabin. Step 2.....complete. Now for the hard part. I kept the hatch up as I started to sit down. This next part of the plan would've been sooo perfect if I had an AI working with me - but I didn't. No; I'd have to rely on my instincts, my gut feeling as a capable pilot of the UNSC. I looked around for any handholds I could use, even as my heartbeat was literally audible, and continued to speed up. Any more craziness and for sure I'd have a seizure. Damn. If only. I breathed in, then breathed out. My helmet told me the distance between Falcon and ground, and I tried my best to calm down..... But there wasn't any time. I yanked a lever backwards and the rotors started to slow. As for the suspending rockets, they......stopped. Hatch open, pistol and SMG tucked beside my seat, myself literally on the edge of it ready to jump out, an assault rifle in one hand and a handle in the other, I awaited the consequences of my reckless actions as the familiar feeling of falling emerged in my midsection, which didn't help at all as I readied. 60 meters......50......40.......30........25.......20..........19........ 'Wort?' 'Wort!' came the sounds of the Elites starting their chat. I realized they'd seen me, and they'd probably been staring up wondering what I was for some time now. But time was, at this moment, this very second, on my side. 19 meters from the ground, and I turned on all the Falcon's upthrust capabilities to maximum. It started to slow, but it didn't seem to stop. Just as I thought that my timing was wrong and I was about to die from a crash, I felt the sensation of alottapain-in-my-legs. Also known as - it slowed. Enough. 8 meters from the ground and the final part of my plan began. I hurled the assault rifle in my hand towards the position of the yellow dot, now on my own radar rather than that of the Falcon's. 6 meters, and I stood up, the opened hatch allowing me all the space I needed to jump out. In my left hand I had a pistol, in my right an SMG. 4 meters, now or never, I kicked off. 3 meters; I was in midair, even as the shouts of Elites started to fill the air like a disease. 2 Meters. The Falcon slowed to a stop. Beneath it, an Elite with a pulverized skull. One other Elite pointed, said something that my own pumping blood drowned from the sound, and, adrenaline once again going around my already-stressed body, attention from the Sangheili drawn to a Falcon hovering just a meter above ground, I started to spray and pray. Definitely pray.

OOC: There's no "You have to post in 3rd" rule. IC Soon, I'd managed to stumble upon my Falcon, landed in a small clearing in some nicely found forest. If I'm not wrong, this was in the Quezon territory of Reach. Of course, I didn't know for sure after I was nearly blew out of the sky, and while I could easily check my tacpad, I had my entire armor system doing something....else. '...Rendezvous at the Chapel of S....cis the fifth. Co-ordinates are..." I listened intently to the radio that offered support to survivors, yet I knew deep down that it was also a call for help. Still, as I got into the pilot seat and marked down the co-ordinates, I realized that it would be a short flight and, thankfully, the skies for, for the most part (At least with my own eyes) clear of covenant aerial vehicles. If I don't go too fast, too high, I think I should be able to not attract any more. Still, I didn't know what to expect, so I had uncomfortable strapped a parachute to my back as I started to flick the switches and alter the manual adjustments to help with the liftoff of the Falcon. The familiar whir of the rotors and the ever-growing bellows of the engines started to fill my ears even as my beloved vehicle, minus the usual 2 marines sitting on the sides in the gunner seats, began to fly. Now, I would have to rely on the front turret should I ever come in contact with a banshee, and even then, I don't see how, without help, I would survive. My chest throbbed from the now-dead Sangheili's torture. I'm certain that if I didn't know better, I would've taken biofoam and ate it, but...whatever. OOC: Leo, requesting interaction.

OS = Overshield And yeah, I think things like Camo and Overshield should be on-map.

Dayum! That is one big monkey with a nice, small-brained bio. Approved! Now just need an answer - Do you guys wanna start round one ASAP or wait for more players?

Well..... I sent it!

Yet they find it an issue to play this online, with both good and bad players. Why not get them to playtest?

To whoever I owe a million dollars, thats exactly how Ill be paying you.

Facial features? ..... Ears mouth eyes nose hair skin beautiful cheekbones. Anyways, is there a map of Quezon we can use? Locales are all over the place; I have no idea where everybody is. As for getting lost, I don't see how that could happen. I was really looking forwards to creating a Sangheili character but apparently Leo needs to die first...

OOC: Since there's only one character allowed, I guess no need to bother with names...but are NPC's allowed in our posts? IC Seconds feel like minutes. Minutes feel like hours. Hours feel like days. And days feel like hell. Conclusion? Each second was hell. I feel the hard foot planted on my chest; the Elite who stood on top of me didn't even decide to kill me. No; he'd decided that my pain would be eternal, lasting, and that each and every moment I had left as I lived would be filled with black-red blood blocking out my eyes, my internal organs crushed by my ribs, my arms and legs cut with swords and yet cauterized instantly, vaporizing blood. Each second was hell, but for the lone Elite who stood on top of me, he obviously didn't expect any resistance from me, and that would be his judging, his final moments, as, even with his foot on my chest, as the blood around my body pumped faster and faster yet received no oxygens from my near-crushed lungs, energy, both from adrenaline and from my stressed-out cells' anaerobic respiration gave forth a surge of power as I somehow managed to pull out my combat knife and dig it in between the 4-jawed freak's two massive toes. The Elite gave forth a garbled, inhuman yell, and I took that as my chance. Pistol in left hand and SMG in right, I brought both of my arms to bear and fired, sprayed, blasted the Elite's chest and head. In a second, there was no head, only bits of flesh and bone as they were shredded by my submachine gun until my entire magazine's ammunition had gone through his body one way or another. I rolled out of the way just before the body slumped on me, and slowly but surely picked myself up, and, tiredly yet assuredly, started to walk in the direction of the one thing I could call sanctuary - My Falcon. Just gonna add that both gunners died, so.....yeah. My bad. May their souls rest forever and ever in peace.

bAnned fOr GIF

Map packs isn't the thing that will save Halo 4. It would help, but it won't be that spark to start the fire.

Nice interview. Zelda isn't really online at the same times that I am so that sucks. But still nice interview.

Banned for agreements.

Banned for somehow getting confused over the logic of 'Name is now this'.

Spades is 'on break' from Halo. While he has confirmed some Halo game nights, they'll be on Halo 3, not Halo 4. I'm no fortune teller but I'm fairly certain that right now, the best place your map can go is, as Sikslik said above, AbleSir Thomas' TNT.

Most games that have co-op modes boost difficulty when in co-op. Although yes, this is true, Im fairly certain that OP was talking about the situation of having to play solo and finding it just about impossible.

The DMR can still cross-map better.......... I think the Light Rifle, simply cuz it shoots light. The sound is horrible, all that jazz, but it makes people feel more like an arcane magic user (Toa of Light anyone) than any other gun.

What should a 'pro' playlist feature in your opinion? Radar or no radar? Preset loadouts? Power weapon spawning like in previous games? Or, rather, just a symmetrical map with cover, and everybody has BR's and nothing else, and there's a flag? What creates a pro-playlist? What makes it go above others as the place that players who think of themselves as better than average (Far better) should head to in order to challenge themselves? I think....... Visible ranking. Like, ACTUALLY visible, in-game. That's my first of what makes a pro-playlist pro. And next, both slayer and objective gametypes.

This looks really good! It would help out a lot, especially for competitive maps based around multiple game modes Do you think there's a way you could do gametype-specificity markers?