Post by Sukhoi on Jul 15, 2009 1:51:38 GMT -5
U S E R I N F O
Name: Sukhoi
Age: 21
Role Playing Experience: Moderate, mostly a small 'writing for fun' background and some D&D and a bit of Zamby killin'
C H A R C T E R I N F O
Name: Dmitriy Tskolan
Age: 36
Gender: Male
Equipment:
AK-74 compact assault rifle ( Clip [30 shot] x 2, thread-on silencer )
GSh-18 pistol ( Clip [12 shot] x 2, thread-on silencer )
Survival kit:
Emergency rations
Water bag
Nylon cord
Compass
Candle
Steel & Flint
Hack saw blade
Fishing kit
Multi-tool
Matches
Sewing kit
Purification Tablets
Safety pins
Single edge razor
Salt packets
Signal mirror
Whistle
Snare wire
Pencil
Morphine
Bandages
Physical Description
Dmitriy Tskolan is of almost perfect average build. 5' 6" in height and weighing in a just a little over 176 pounds. His hair is kept short, though a bit longer than military regulation. He marked proficient in both pistol and small arms marksmanship. He also garnered master rank in the solo survival course.
History
Name: Dmitriy Tskolan
Age: 36
Rank: Lieutenant Colonel
Position: Pilot, Kamchatsky Air Base, Petropovlovsk
Born during the hight of the cold war, Dmitriy grew up in a small fishing village in cold Siberia. He joined the Military at the youngest age possible and quickly accelerated through the flight training program. The middle years of the man's life are hazy, hidden behind layers of military 'order' or perhaps the lack there of. His life reemerges around the current date. Stationed in Petropavlovsk, a peninsula in Siberia, he is the flight officer of a Sukhoi Su-27 Fullback fighter bomber. His mother still lives in his home town, and his father had drown at sea during the time Dmitriy was in basic. His life now has been slow, boring, with hardly any air time, despite having an over abundance of jet fuel.
Personality
Very friendly to native Russians and eastern Europeans. Having grown up during the cold war he has a suspicion of Americans. Though, it is nothing that he lets show. He comes off as very calculating and quite military-esq. However, when panicked, rushed, or scared, Dmitriy often slips into a very fast speaking 'buddy buddy' sort of banter and action.
Role Play Post Example: note: * = translated from Russian.
Dmitriy rolled out of his bunk and hit the floor hard. The attack warning siren screamed loud in his mind. "The hell?*" However confused and bedraggled he was, it was two in the morning, Lt. Col. Tskolan moved quickly. He tore open his flight trunk, pulling out his winter weight flight suit and stepping into the beast. nearly a mile of zippers later he trundled out of his room, survival pack over one shoulder and flight helmet tucked under the other arm. This was very unusual.
Trotting, for that was as fast as one could move in a winter flight suit, Dmitriy made his way out onto the flight ramp. He spotted his superior, no, it was his general, standing on top of a jeep with his staff, armed for bear, and shouting orders. Quickly making his way towards his plane, for that seemed like the only good idea at the, Dmitriy began to hear muffled gunfire along the airfield's perimeter. Что на название ада продолжается? What the hell was going on? Who could be attacking? He had heard rumors of some sort of plague going around, but this small base was nigh incommunicado with Moscow, or for that matter, the world.
A moaning roar was swept with the wind, sending a chill down Tskolan's spine. It took him five minutes to run through the start up list and get his jet taxied onto the runway. However, by the time his attention moved back to the world the base's security soldiers had backed up to the edge of the runway. Before them the ground was littered with corpses. What the hell!
As he locked up the breaks his eyes fell back over to the slowly retreating line of security personnel. The, men? they were fighting charged headlong into automatic gunfire, dropping like sacks of potatoes. One jumped, grabbed, and seemed to bit at one soldier before he shot the thing in the head.
"Bozhe' Moi." Dmitriy whispered as the same soldier then turned his weapon upon himself. That was enough, time to go. Where didn't matter, he just didn't want to be here anymore. "Genesis requesting takeoff conformation. Control, respond.*"
...
"Genesis to Control, respond.*"
... Again, no response came in.
"Fuckit." He spoke in English. Dmitriy pushed the throttle to full military power, farther actually, boosting the fighter bomber into afterburner and tearing down strip and thundering into the air. and away from the massacre below him.
Name: Sukhoi
Age: 21
Role Playing Experience: Moderate, mostly a small 'writing for fun' background and some D&D and a bit of Zamby killin'
C H A R C T E R I N F O
Name: Dmitriy Tskolan
Age: 36
Gender: Male
Equipment:
AK-74 compact assault rifle ( Clip [30 shot] x 2, thread-on silencer )
GSh-18 pistol ( Clip [12 shot] x 2, thread-on silencer )
Survival kit:
Emergency rations
Water bag
Nylon cord
Compass
Candle
Steel & Flint
Hack saw blade
Fishing kit
Multi-tool
Matches
Sewing kit
Purification Tablets
Safety pins
Single edge razor
Salt packets
Signal mirror
Whistle
Snare wire
Pencil
Morphine
Bandages
Physical Description
Dmitriy Tskolan is of almost perfect average build. 5' 6" in height and weighing in a just a little over 176 pounds. His hair is kept short, though a bit longer than military regulation. He marked proficient in both pistol and small arms marksmanship. He also garnered master rank in the solo survival course.
History
Name: Dmitriy Tskolan
Age: 36
Rank: Lieutenant Colonel
Position: Pilot, Kamchatsky Air Base, Petropovlovsk
Born during the hight of the cold war, Dmitriy grew up in a small fishing village in cold Siberia. He joined the Military at the youngest age possible and quickly accelerated through the flight training program. The middle years of the man's life are hazy, hidden behind layers of military 'order' or perhaps the lack there of. His life reemerges around the current date. Stationed in Petropavlovsk, a peninsula in Siberia, he is the flight officer of a Sukhoi Su-27 Fullback fighter bomber. His mother still lives in his home town, and his father had drown at sea during the time Dmitriy was in basic. His life now has been slow, boring, with hardly any air time, despite having an over abundance of jet fuel.
Personality
Very friendly to native Russians and eastern Europeans. Having grown up during the cold war he has a suspicion of Americans. Though, it is nothing that he lets show. He comes off as very calculating and quite military-esq. However, when panicked, rushed, or scared, Dmitriy often slips into a very fast speaking 'buddy buddy' sort of banter and action.
Role Play Post Example: note: * = translated from Russian.
Dmitriy rolled out of his bunk and hit the floor hard. The attack warning siren screamed loud in his mind. "The hell?*" However confused and bedraggled he was, it was two in the morning, Lt. Col. Tskolan moved quickly. He tore open his flight trunk, pulling out his winter weight flight suit and stepping into the beast. nearly a mile of zippers later he trundled out of his room, survival pack over one shoulder and flight helmet tucked under the other arm. This was very unusual.
Trotting, for that was as fast as one could move in a winter flight suit, Dmitriy made his way out onto the flight ramp. He spotted his superior, no, it was his general, standing on top of a jeep with his staff, armed for bear, and shouting orders. Quickly making his way towards his plane, for that seemed like the only good idea at the, Dmitriy began to hear muffled gunfire along the airfield's perimeter. Что на название ада продолжается? What the hell was going on? Who could be attacking? He had heard rumors of some sort of plague going around, but this small base was nigh incommunicado with Moscow, or for that matter, the world.
A moaning roar was swept with the wind, sending a chill down Tskolan's spine. It took him five minutes to run through the start up list and get his jet taxied onto the runway. However, by the time his attention moved back to the world the base's security soldiers had backed up to the edge of the runway. Before them the ground was littered with corpses. What the hell!
As he locked up the breaks his eyes fell back over to the slowly retreating line of security personnel. The, men? they were fighting charged headlong into automatic gunfire, dropping like sacks of potatoes. One jumped, grabbed, and seemed to bit at one soldier before he shot the thing in the head.
"Bozhe' Moi." Dmitriy whispered as the same soldier then turned his weapon upon himself. That was enough, time to go. Where didn't matter, he just didn't want to be here anymore. "Genesis requesting takeoff conformation. Control, respond.*"
...
"Genesis to Control, respond.*"
... Again, no response came in.
"Fuckit." He spoke in English. Dmitriy pushed the throttle to full military power, farther actually, boosting the fighter bomber into afterburner and tearing down strip and thundering into the air. and away from the massacre below him.