“...away from the asset...cannot allow use of auxiliary...”
“...refuse to let a Priority One asset be compromised just to spite...c’mon...you’re gonna...”
In a way, it was almost exactly like falling out of bed.
The first thing Iulis felt as he entered the waking world for the first time in millennia was the impact on the cold metallic floor of an orbiter through the Somatic Link suit, the pain piercing through his body spreading from what felt like an immense migraine.
Despite this, the Tenno couldn’t even feel anything past his knees and elbows, let alone move them. It was as if the pain hit a barrier on his joints.
“Hel...wh...” stuttered, helpless syllables of his own(!) voice, not those projected by the Warframes that took on facets of his personality. “Am...dead...”
This felt too painful to be death. Not even by the mythos of pre-Orokin belief systems. But if this was a dream, then he was already lucid enough to really wake up from it. Without a Warframe to connect to, it was almost like he was stumbling in the dark...
Attention, Crewman Class 1 Designate Barraf, T. Your shift begins in 15 standard minutes.
The implants with the androgynous text-to-speech voice went off like clockwork after every designated rest interval. Perhaps it was “volunteer” biology, or some faint delusion that being clocked in included time spent awake during the rest interval, but Tai Barraf was already awake for at least a standard hour prior to shift-start on average. Either way, it helped him beat the rush to the lockers to get suited up for whatever he was needed for that day on the Invisible Hand XLVIII.
Here are your messages for today.
First stop after the bunks was the shift-start ration. Standard energy supplement bar to be consumed en route to locker, because “volunteers” and regulars all had human biology in common.
You are currently on Probationary Status for the next-
Tai however had mastered the art of being able to focus on exactly how little sweeteners had been added to the ESB in this batch, so as not to focus on the ever-recharging timer for his latest probationary status.
Your stock portfolio has registered a zero-point-one-three percent gain in the last twenty-four standard hours. This puts you at-
“One or two extra credits?” he groaned to himself as he finished off the bar right before stepping into the decon chambers before the lockers. All implants were temporarily muted as the lasers and sprays made sure bacterial presence was minimal. He frequently eyed the floor though, as the only time the functions on the floor were ever used were when Infestation was detected.
...checking account currently stands at 50 credits after your latest transaction. Your savings account balance currently stands at 2,320 credits after your latest direct deposit.
Once into the lockers, it was time to suit up. A few of the higher-ranking ones were already there, going through their own messages or other items on their personal datapads. His locker, like most of the lowest-ranked Crewmen, was in the back. And that was fine with him, as a conveyor dispensed his suit from a rotating rack. As he went to his locker - which was mostly empty save for a little extra commissary spending credits - and started suiting up, something else perked up his mood just a little from his usual glum.
Congratulations. At the conclusion of Dione Exchange trading hours, your designate CRA with [Advant] passed the 5,000 credit mark for the first time after standard fees. As thanks for your continued loyalty, [Advant] has authorized one (1) small ration of your choice to be claimed on each of your next seven (7) mid-shift meals.
“Well that’s nice...” he muttered to himself as he finished fastening the helmet. “Maybe they’ll have those Io Snackers today.” He’d save that for after the shift though, as the helmet went through its boot sequence and broadcast a new set of messages.
Here are your designated tasks for today’s shift...
Scheming On A Thing (closed starter w/ @tennotraitor)
Once or twice or thrice upon a time many forgotten millennia ago, empires rose, thrived and fell upon this soil. Only slightly more recently, a massive extraterrestrial empire rendered this soil practically barren as the price of their innovation. But they too mostly rotted into the dust, although their more resilient materials would take a while yet to degrade.
Here on Earth, Nature ultimately reclaimed what was theirs (or “hers,” depending on whom one asked about a consciousness lurking about in the vegetation.) But as long as some form of sentient humanoid species existed, nature wouldn’t deter other powers wanting to rise from trying to fell these forests for their own purposes. Even now Grineer battalions were prying open cold, chemical gashes in this forest with new bases and installations supposedly camouflaged under the foliage trying to resist their intrusion.
Clearly, some outside intervention was needed.
“Tenno, the Grineer have constructed a Cicero processing facility in this region. Your mission is to sabotage the Biocatalyst used to make the toxin as well as the Injector used to administer it.”
A Quilate Liset pierced through the cloud cover, gracefully diving before leveling itself out over a coastal forest. It was barely stationary for the better part of 5 local seconds before deploying a gun-metal Saryn Prime with blood red accents, her technocyte dreads swirling in the wind before she executed a textbook “Tenno Landing” on the soil below. She then stood up and appeared to dust herself off and crack her knuckles before brandishing the Braton Prime slung around her back.
“It’s beautiful down here. Wonder if I can do a better job than these fuckin’ clones can.” she muttered to herself.
“Maybe when we can afford the machinery,” her operator replied with a chuckle, before directing her forward with his Transference. “That’d require a Corpus budget.”
Iris Chacon is the God Mother of the Orlando , Florida Puerto Rican Day Parade going on right now!!!! @Regrann from @cflmarketingsolutions - Madrina de el Desfile y Festival Puertorriqueño Iris Chacon #floridapuertoricanparade #fprp #irischacon #cflmarketingsolutions - #regrann #prflagsup #puertoricanflagsup @puertoricanflagsup (at Bruckner Plaza Shopping Center)
So are you bored? Do you love Flashpoint? Do you love roleplay?
Well then do I have a site for you. This site is dedicated to Flashpoint and we roleplay all the time!!! Please please please join! LOTS OF PEOPLE OPEN! ONLY PEOPLE TAKEN ARE GREG, JULES, SPIKE AND SAM!
It was one cold afternoon when Chihiro decided to go out for a walk. Apparently, one of his neighbors are currently hosting a party, in the middle of the night. As he only moved in a few days ago, it would only cause him trouble if he confronted them. Giving his cat Kentaro a pat on his head, he proceeded to get one of his mother’s masterpiece novels, grabbed his coat and scarf, and proceeded to go out.
He started reading the books as he made his way to the oark. However, the streets are unusually more crowded than usual, much to his annoyance. He kept his usual pokerface and decided not to read and squeezed his way through the crowd, muttering countless apologies to those he bumped into.
After that seemingly bone-crushing trip, Chihiro let out a tired sigh before straightening himself up to see the park in front of him. His empty gray eyes scanned the area, finding it less crowded than the streets. He then proceeded to find a vacant bench and was about to sit on it when he noticed that the novel was out of his grasp. He backed away from the chair and retraced his steps until he found it near one of the trees.
Letting out another sigh, he walked towards it and bent over so he could pick up the book, but then a hand reached it before him. He stood up to look for the person who got the book. As it turns out, a teenage girl is standing in front of him, her arm outstretched and the object he was looking for is sitting on her hand.
