Dark Rain 2.0  |
| Darkness '44 - '45; World War II Roleplay | |
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| Topic Started: 3 Oct 2009, 22:49 (86 Views) | |
| TheRecluse | 3 Oct 2009, 22:49 Post #1 |
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Darkness '44 - '45 The Second World War has raged through Europe for over four years. The Axis have managed to take France and have bombed England to ruin. The forces of the Afrika Korps under Erwin Rommel "The Desert Fox" has been broken in North Africa. The stage has been set for 175,000 soldiers from the Allied Nations to invade Europe. The story takes place during the first wave of troops landing on Omaha Beach, Dog White Sector. They are the 16th Infantry Regiment of the 1st Infantry Division (United States). The plot will focus more closely on Captain Steven Horris of Able Company, 1st Battalion. I will be controlling all NPC's including German and American. This will be an incredibly realistic roleplay with graphic violence and strong language. Remember, your characters are liable to die, but that doesn't stop you from making another one. But still, do not be Rambo, Mr. Supersoldier etc. Now also remember, this is the Forties, so unfortunately, there are no women in the Armed Forces, and units are racially segregated. I apologize if any of this offends you, but I am being realistic. There are to be no super powers or anything like that. You may pick from a few different American weapons such as the M1A1 Thompson, M1 Garand, M1903 Springfield .30-06 Sniper rifle, M1919 Browning .30 caliber machine gun, etc. But remember, if you pick one of these weapons, you got to know how to be realistic with them. If you need help on that aspect, please PM me. Also PM if you want to join, I will be posting the first post once I get at least 2 people in here. Roster: -TheRecluse : Captain Steven Horris Edited by TheRecluse, 4 Oct 2009, 10:22.
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| TheRecluse | 4 Oct 2009, 09:39 Post #2 |
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The swells of the Atlantic Ocean struck the beaches of Dog White Sector, Omaha beach with force. The sky was overcast and the morning was cold. On a ridge overlooking the beach, pillboxes and sandbags lined a German defensive position. The beach was littered with tank barricades and other obstacles to defend from amphibious landings. Artillery and machine guns sat trained on the ridge above for the impending invasion. Something was happening far off the coast. The Day of Days was about to begin. In the Higgins Boat for 1st Platoon, Captain Steven Jacob Horris stood calmly with a cigarette in his hand. He took a drag off of it, it had small wet spots from the splashes of water that crashed in the inside. The soldiers around him were praying, throwing up from nerves and the motion of the boat, some were writing up last minute letters. Steve tapped 1st Lieutenant Sean Chickoring on the shoulder. "Sean, don't get yourself killed out there!" he yelled into the ear of his 1st Lieutenant. "Don't worry sir, I survived Anzio! This is gonna be a walk in the park!" he yelled back. Steven smiled and watched as the beach drew ever closer. The loud humming of the landing craft's engines dulled out the noises of prayer and the talking of the men amongst each other, some had been with the company as long as Steven had, hell he knew most of them. Steven finished his cigarette and stamped it out on the metal floor of the landing craft. He looked behind him to the driver and nodded. The driver nodded back and shouted an order. "Thirty second! I hope you guys get those Krauts!" he yelled. After about twenty seconds, the boat came to a full stop and the pulley system that held the ramp up began unwinding. That's when the machine guns started shooting. The rain of bullets angled toward the opening door, ricochets bounced around as the men scrambled to get out, some so scared that they jumped off the side of the boat. As the MG 42's and 34's angled on the other crafts of the regiment, the survivors of the initial bursts scrambled into the neck-deep water, Captain Horris with them. Bullets sliced through the water, getting some of the guys as they were trudging through the loose sand. That's when the artillery began to work. 88mm shells busted in the water and on the beach. Steve felt the wind as a piece of shrapnel nearly took his head off. The Captain quickly waded to a nearby shark tooth. "Jesus!" yelled the Captain as he knelt behind the metal tank barrier. Looking on the beach, Horris assessed the situation. People were dying everywhere. The men with the heavier weapons were easily picked off, while the rifleman narrowly dodged and weaved past bullets. |
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| tyrade | 4 Oct 2009, 09:52 Post #3 |
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John leapt over the side just as a rain of bullets hit where he was just standing. He landed in the deep water, his gear weighing him down. He had mentally prepared himself to not panic when he sank. He water walked to underneath the transport and could hear an onslaught of bullets hitting it's deck. Luck was on his side as the guns turned to focus on other boats as he surfaced to take in air in the neck deep water. He held his rifle over his head and waded out of the water. Almost the moment he landed a foot out of the water, an artillary shell hit about 15 feet from him, blowing him to the side. His ears ringing from shell shock it took him a few seconds to realize his arm had been cut by shrapnel. Not bothering to brush sand from himself he ran in the direction he believed to be the rally point. Soldiers fell all around him, artillary rounds blowing limbs at him, and machine guns tearing apart people he had trained and fought with before his eyes. His shell shock allowed him to tunnel vision on his captain cover. The only thing running through his mind was get to the captain. He fell into a hole caused by an artillary shell striking the same place twice, which saved him from a barrage of bullets. He sat in the hole, catching his breath and allowing his head to clear. He signaled to the captain he was nearby and tore a pice of his undershirt off to begin patching his arm. |
  It seems every serial killer is someone you least expect, meaning we are safest around those we expect to kill us | |
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| Wildcard | 9 Oct 2009, 04:33 Post #4 |
The veil is thin.... I'm coming through!
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Welcome to Hell, Private Patrick McKenzie thought to himself as the gunfire rattled against the lowering ramp. "You'll be right, Paddy! We've got ya!" Shouted Private Alfred Thompson, standing beside him with an M1 Garand in his hands. McKenzie nodded and pointed his M3 "grease gun" submachine gun at the sky as he loaded a magazine into it. As soon as the ramp was down far enough, those in the lead ran across it and leapt into the water, some getting cut down by machine gun fire as they did. Thompson jabbed McKenzie in the ribs with his elbow and jogged out as fast as he could. McKenzie felt a shove in his back and jogged after Thompson. He was not proud of it, but he stepped in behind Thompson to use the other young man as a shield. The water, McKenzie noticed at the last moment before he fell into it, had turned from blue to red with the blood of fallen soldiers and as he sank under the water (Being rather short at 5'5") he lost his footing as his boots struck the body of one of the soldiers. Panicking, the young engineer pushed up and kicked, thrusting his head up from the tainted water. He took a deep gasp before falling under again. Under the water was a constant grinding noise of mushy surf and he felt several blunt jabs hit him across his mid-section. He ignored the dull pain and pushed himself forwards, jumping for mouthfuls of air when he needed them. It seemed like forever had passed when he finally began climbing the sand out of the ocean and he ran so crouched he could almost crawl. He ran up to the captain of the 1st platoon, Captain Horris and slumped to the sand. "Private McKenzie, Engineer!" He barked to inform the Captain of who he was. He'd been attached to Horris' platoon to take out fortified enemy positions and was carrying two M37 satchel charges crossed over his body to do so, as well as several grenades. |
 I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burned with heat. - JOB, Chapter 30, verses 29-30  Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz. | |
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| TheRecluse | 9 Oct 2009, 21:21 Post #5 |
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"Everyone! Listen up! We need to get the hell off this beach and we need to do it fast! These krauts have been dug in for months! And I guarantee they don't want to give it the hell up!" screamed Captain Horris to the men crowded around him in cover behind shark teeth and other blocks. "Well McKenzie! We are gonna need you up there! Where's the rest of your outfit?" he yelled over the gunfire to the small engineer. The Captain watched as the gunfire from the left side subsided while the machine gunner changed barrels and reloaded. He looked to his men, some scared, some had too much adrenaline flowing to be scared and others just looked determined. He waded up a little farther to the shark tooth 1st Sergeant David Creers sat. He looked to the Captain and nodded. "What'cha need Cap?" he asked. "We need to get the hell out of this position now! Rally on the C-Wall!" he yelled. Dave nodded and looked to the other men. "On me boys! This ain't gonna be an easy run! But you are going to make it! Lets go!" yelled 1st Sergeant Creers. "McKenzie! Stay on my ass! We are gonna run after 1st Sergeant and my company get out of this mess! Have you seen a 1st Lieutenant anywhere? Because I saw him leave the lander with me and now he's fuckin' gone!" yelled Captain Horris. He hoped that one of his best friends was not sitting with his guts hanging out somewhere. |
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| tyrade | 18 Oct 2009, 23:03 Post #6 |
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"Sorry I took so long captain! I was pined down in a crater." The seargeant said, running up to his commanding officer. "I last saw the Lieutenant to the east cooridanting straglers. I havn't seen him since!" He yelled over the gunfire, ducking down as a morter landed nearby. He clutched his carbine and rose for a second to return fire, and ducked back down. |
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It seems every serial killer is someone you least expect, meaning we are safest around those we expect to kill us | |
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| Wildcard | 26 Oct 2009, 13:18 Post #7 |
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The veil is thin.... I'm coming through!
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"I don't know, sir! I went under when I jumped off the boat and just kinda scrambled to shore. I can barely tell one person from another right now," McKenzie answered Horris' question. Then someone else answered the Captain's question regarding a first sergeant, saving McKenzie from having to. He didn't want to be keeping track of people, he just wanted to stay alive. Hopefully with the added bonus of blowing some stuff up. |
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I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burned with heat. - JOB, Chapter 30, verses 29-30 Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz. | |
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| TheRecluse | 28 Oct 2009, 05:22 Post #8 |
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"Alright, McKenzie! You seem to be the only demolitions man on the spot right now. I need you to come with me to that seawall and then I need you to find some of your guys and get those bangalores up there with us!" yelled Captain Horris. The Captain looked around and waved to the Sergeant next to him and McKenzie to follow. He saw that 1st Sergeant Creers and the men were already laying in front of the seawall, waiting for the others to get there. Horris held a deep breath in and held his rifle firmly and began running. He saw men laying on the beach bleeding out, medics scrambling for the wounded. Many of them were extremely overwhelmed and looked like they were ready to explode with anger. Steven finally got close to the seawall and dived into it. He landed next to 1st Sergeant Creers and a radioman from 1st Platoon. "Creers! Have you seen Lieutenant Chickoring!?" yelled Steven. "No sir! I haven't seen him since we were on the boat!" yelled back the senior NCO. Captain Horris quickly tried to assess the situation. His company was mismatched with other companies from the regiment and some of the naval demolitions men were sitting there with confused looks on their faces. He tapped the radioman on the shoulder and gave him orders. "Get on the horn! Tell them that the first wave took heavy casualties! We have not secured the beach! Repeat the beach is not open! We need reinforcements!" yelled Steven. The radioman turned back to his radio and began yelling into it. |
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| tyrade | 28 Oct 2009, 05:32 Post #9 |
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He jumped up and followed the captain. His own platoon had been, for the most part, massacred the moment that door opened. He attached to this mismatched group and followed the captains orders. He moved with the demo man to cover him while he worked, getting an occational shot off at a mortor pit, even thinking he saw a man go down under his fire. |
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It seems every serial killer is someone you least expect, meaning we are safest around those we expect to kill us | |
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12:53 PM Nov 27
