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Halo: Militia (RP)


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"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.

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"I've used a gun before, went shooting with my father. He was a retired U.N.S.C soldier, so he had prior experience and told me how to shoot, where to aim, and all that stuff. A lot of the colonies are starving to death, like China when Japan invaded it. It's kind of weird how we are at a galactic war with another collection of species, yet will still remember the most important times of Earth. I find that pretty amazing." Cavril said. He turned over to see a recruit facing his opponent, looking genuinely scared. The Russian decided to help him out.

 

"Lower your center of gravity! It will be hardy for him to move you if you-" before Cavril could finish, the recruit had his face slammed into the sand. 

 

Damn, Cavril thought.

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"I'm guessing you don't know the history a few years before World War II? It happened in 1937, in the second Sino-Japanese War. Don't you know your military and war history? Or did you not go to the pre-military Academy that cadets like me who want to become Officers go to? Anyway, China fought Japan with some economic help from Germany, the Soviet Union and the United States. After the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, the war merged into the greater conflict of World War II as a major front of what is broadly known as the Pacific War. The Second Sino-Japanese War was the largest Asian war in the 20th century. It also made up more than 50% of the casualties in the Pacific War if the 1937–1941 period is taken into account. Did you learn something?" Cavril replied, hoping to get that 'Oh wow, I just got schooled' look on D.J.'s face.

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"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?"

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Cavril smiled. Even an uneducated person could still make a great friend. They were bonding, and that was good. 'Brothers in Arms are brothers for life' they still say. And that much was true, they would need to work together to get through these challenges.

 

"Ivy League? No sir-y. My father was one of the richest men on Aszod, so I got the best education you can get on all the colonies. I got it at Richard's Science and Military Institution, a private academy. There I learned a lot about the military, tactics, history and science. Division is easy. If 2 x 8 = 16, then 16 / 8 = 2. And it would be the same for 16 / 2, only that would equal 8. Anyway, do you know anything about Earth's history? Did your father ever tell you anything about it?" the Russian said.

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"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.

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"Ah, I see. Well I guess I'm one of the lucky ones, to be able to go to school, have a good family, get in the U.N.S.C.. You did the latter, so that's good I guess. Anyway, what were your brawls like? They always turned up on the news eventually, as did mine. You saw a picture of me, Da? Everyone knows who I am on Aszod." Cavril asked, hoping that some of the other recruits would complete their fights so the finished recruits could move on to shooting, or at least something else.

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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."

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"I can see the ancientness of a fighter in your eyes. Well, at least you avenged your friends. Tell me, what was your closest friend like?" Cavril inquired. He was now very interested, and for some reason wanted to know a lot about D.J.'s life as a colony kid.

 

The Russian looked over at their barracks, which was small but seemed big upon the hill. It was a nice and cozy place.

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"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."

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"Oh, right! Him. Grant Mikhail, wasn't it?" Cavril asked, unknowing that he made the mistake of using the Russian-English way of spelling Michael. It was also pronounced differently. Instead of Mi-kul for the normal way, in the Russian-English it was Mike-Hail. The Russian looked at D.J. and smiled his creepy smile. He couldn't help it, it just naturally came to him.

 

"I had no friends. I knew Grant, he was a good friend of mine as well but we rarely every saw each other. I'm ashamed to say that it was my brother, Ivan, who shot Grant. I'm sorry, I didn't find out until the military police traced the finger prints of the gun back to Ivan. Ivan destroyed Grant's life, and I took away Ivan's." Cavril said.

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"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?"

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"Well, I have my super rich family back at Aszod, but I mean I'm going to stay in the military for the rest of my days. I'm not returning to Aszod, it has nothing for me there. Except for a life of wealth and fighting. Otherwise I don't really care. Things have been different for me since I killed Ivan," Cavril said, expecting that D.J. had heard what he said about Ivan, "Nobody screwed with me, except the newbies. Nothing really happened." 

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"Oh, so you weren't listening. Well allow me to reexplain: I had no friends. I knew Grant, he was a good friend of mine as well but we rarely every saw each other. I'm ashamed to say that it was my brother, Ivan, who shot Grant. I'm sorry, I didn't find out until the military police traced the finger prints of the gun back to Ivan. Ivan destroyed Grant's life, and I took away Ivan's. Secretly of course, and I'll never forget Ivan's fearful stare, looking into my cold, violet eyes." Cavril said.

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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.

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Cavril nodded respectfully and sat down in the sand. He felt defeated, and that usually didn't happen, however this time was different. There was nothing he could say, except for a few things that didn't matter. Right now, they just needed the other recruits to finish their fights.

 

((That's enough for today. Let us wait for someone else.))

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[is there a plot planned for this RP?]

[Contrary to whatever your preconceptions might be about this roleplay, yes, there is a plot planned out. I didn't plan on it being a never ending hangout for wannabe space Marines. I planned on it being a two part story following the hardships of Reach's militia through both training and Winter Contingency. I see some potential here for at least an interesting story to be written here with the guidelines in place. You can be a part of this attempt or you can stay clear of it. Whatever you want is fine by me.]

 

 

Just then, Sergeant Geza heard DJ's thoughts. "The hell are you saying 'Wow' for? What did I miss?"

 

[seriously now.]

 

Geza's sharp whistle pierced the air for a long two seconds, another three passed before the recruits stopped what they were doing and readjusted themselves. "That's enough for today. Everyone fall in formation and head back to the compound. Once you get there, grab a rifle from one of the crates--don't worry, they're not loaded--and check in with Staff Sergeant Kawolski at the firing range."

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"Yes Sergeant Geza."

 

Cavril stepped out of the sandbox and shook his boots, getting the sand off of them. He wiped his face as well, for it was sandy too. By the time Cavril had reached the compound, some other recruits were just getting out of the sandbox and breathing heavily. When the Russian stepped inside, a blast of AC hit him and he relished the feeling. He walked over to the weapon container, and lifted the lid up. There were a collection of blackish-gray rifles, and Cavril picked one up. It wasn't that heavy, but when filled with a magazine it probably was a lot heavier.

 

He walked down to the firing range, and saw Kawolski standing there. Cavril turned off his smile into a serious face and approached the Staff Sergeant.

"Staff Sergeant Kawolski, we were given orders to get rifles and check in with you. The others should be along shortly, sir." The Russian said.

 

 

 

((How the hell do you hear thoughts???))

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[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.

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Name: Yagami 'Marcus' Masaru


Age: 17


Physical Appearance: Average human height, with spiky black hair and blue eyes, with caucasian skin and a more 'western' face.


Rank: Recruit


Uniform: Olive Drab Battle Dress Uniform + Personal, blue visored-black strapped goggles


Birthplace: Manassas


Personality: No jealousy. No trust. Only faith in himself. He is cold, and while he isn't a person who would refrain from talking with you, he'd be the person you'd get the vibe of that should the time come where he needs to save you.....he won't.

 

Oh, and did I mention that he views everyone as people to squash beneath his boots?


Background: Power. That was all that mattered to Marcus, ever since the encounter with his father that changed his life. A family of western 'royal' lines that has progressed for hundreds of years, Marcus lives rich, wealthy, and is a genius. Born to a western father and japanese mother, Marcus is a capable medic and even better fighter. Despite all his skills, has always had a void in his heart that has never been filled ever since the time he met his father when he was 8 years old.

 

He has never met his father since.

 

'Those without power is trash.' Those are the words that have echoed in his mind since then, and those are the words that has been his drive for the past 10 years. The only other drive that keeps him going is his sister, Caterina, who has been sick for all her life to a new, unknown disease originating from Reach that has no cure. He spends his spare time researching when he can.

 

But obviously, his will for power is far, far more than his want to cure his sister.


Skills: A capable medic and melee fighter, having trained in multiple martial arts, and a great marksman as well, along with a high IQ. Despite all that, none of it would be useful if not for his greatest ability - to plan, whether it is an elaborate plan for a long period of time or just which nerve point to strike next.

 

Weakness: Like any other person, when tempted, he loses his cool - possibly a bit more than others. And, for now, the fact that he thinks himself above others means he won't be working with anyone. Anything based on teamwork will require people, after all.

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