Post by Sir Hobs on May 19, 2012 5:44:54 GMT -5
{desc=Or you}Another spring evening dwelled upon the island of Cheyenne, Birds sang their final songs as the surrounding air became unnervingly quiet. A light drizzle though, pitted and patted on the slush mud now staining the double amputee's boots. A bright yellow raincoat shielded him from this wet, cold pest.
God how he hated the rain.
It reminded him too much of the swamps that they had to patrol through during basics and all the blood sucking cretins that came with it. Occasionally there would be a stray Pokémon encounter, but most, if not all of it was scripted by their CO's in charge.
Even with horrendous memories, there were still good times that came along once in a while, in fact, it's how he gained Mike. The poor bugger was in fact just skin and bones when they found his half mutilated corpse in the swamp. He couldn't capture on site due to the high restrictions of Pokéballs in the training grounds, so he basically had to calm the heavy dual type down to be treated. Treating the Lucario was another mission altogether. The chances of it surviving the basic first aid were slim to none, yet, amazingly, they were able to call a CASVAC to air lift the blue Pokémon to a hyperbaric chamber for immediate surgery.
Day's like that were to always be remembered, never forgotten, and always cherished. It's memories like those that kept this soldier sane.
Raising his head slightly, he spied a large, canvas in the distance, it's beige exterior lightening up with the high humidity now swarming the forested region he was walking through. Walking through the thick sludge was definitely a mission and a half for any normal person. It was even a near impossible one for him. He had to expend about a million percent more energy than any normal person would have, another reason why he hated the rain so much.
Eventually, the ex-soldier heaved his body through the open fabric. The tent was indeed a circus. Rangers of various calibre and rank swarmed through, like Durants under attack from Heatmor. It was absolute chaos. Experienced eyes scanned their surroundings, identifying quick exits, explosive materials and suitable cover in case things went to shit. Which usually happened often. His team, Cat Shit One, was well known in the ranger community, primarily because they often had orders to hunt and kill certain endangered Pokémon that were assisting the Rocket regime. Often a harsh conversation led to bullets and blood when the two teams met. Their job was to save the environment and all Pokémon, regardless of which side they were on.
His job was to take the interests and well being of civilian lives into consideration. If they had to exterminate all endangered Pokémon to save just one life, then that's what they had to do. it was by no means an easy thing to do, but it had to be done. For the sake of thousands of lives.
Unconsciously cricking his knuckles in preparation, he approached a ranger from behind. Firmly gripping the persons shoulder to get his/her attention.
"Excuse me, but whose the officer in charge here?"
Ooc: Eh-heh, Sorry. I guess I'm still used to RP'ing there. Terribly sorry
God how he hated the rain.
It reminded him too much of the swamps that they had to patrol through during basics and all the blood sucking cretins that came with it. Occasionally there would be a stray Pokémon encounter, but most, if not all of it was scripted by their CO's in charge.
Even with horrendous memories, there were still good times that came along once in a while, in fact, it's how he gained Mike. The poor bugger was in fact just skin and bones when they found his half mutilated corpse in the swamp. He couldn't capture on site due to the high restrictions of Pokéballs in the training grounds, so he basically had to calm the heavy dual type down to be treated. Treating the Lucario was another mission altogether. The chances of it surviving the basic first aid were slim to none, yet, amazingly, they were able to call a CASVAC to air lift the blue Pokémon to a hyperbaric chamber for immediate surgery.
Day's like that were to always be remembered, never forgotten, and always cherished. It's memories like those that kept this soldier sane.
Raising his head slightly, he spied a large, canvas in the distance, it's beige exterior lightening up with the high humidity now swarming the forested region he was walking through. Walking through the thick sludge was definitely a mission and a half for any normal person. It was even a near impossible one for him. He had to expend about a million percent more energy than any normal person would have, another reason why he hated the rain so much.
Eventually, the ex-soldier heaved his body through the open fabric. The tent was indeed a circus. Rangers of various calibre and rank swarmed through, like Durants under attack from Heatmor. It was absolute chaos. Experienced eyes scanned their surroundings, identifying quick exits, explosive materials and suitable cover in case things went to shit. Which usually happened often. His team, Cat Shit One, was well known in the ranger community, primarily because they often had orders to hunt and kill certain endangered Pokémon that were assisting the Rocket regime. Often a harsh conversation led to bullets and blood when the two teams met. Their job was to save the environment and all Pokémon, regardless of which side they were on.
His job was to take the interests and well being of civilian lives into consideration. If they had to exterminate all endangered Pokémon to save just one life, then that's what they had to do. it was by no means an easy thing to do, but it had to be done. For the sake of thousands of lives.
Unconsciously cricking his knuckles in preparation, he approached a ranger from behind. Firmly gripping the persons shoulder to get his/her attention.
"Excuse me, but whose the officer in charge here?"
Ooc: Eh-heh, Sorry. I guess I'm still used to RP'ing there. Terribly sorry