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FarflungWanderer's Achievements


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  1. IC: Jill, Rapidly transiting away from the Madrigal Sound, despite common conception, theoretically can travel through space so long as there is a dense enough field of particulates to act as a medium. If, by fate or by chance, the Madrigal had been in a nebulae or a pocket of roaming, loose hydrogen, her fellow operators might've heard the exact words Jill spoke when the harnesses released. Alas, her words were lost to the ages - but this narrator can report that they were short, elegant, and extremely profane.
  2. IC: Madrigal Hangar Jill blinked. Had she been that loud? She shot Taylor a toothy grin - I'm onto you...
  3. IC: Madrigal Hangar As Jill affixed the jump harness to her suit, she could feel a pit forming in the depths of her stomach. Could she do this? Sure. Would she like doing this? Absolutely not. She glanced over at Taylor, the actual ODST in the room. "He's gotta be loving this..." she muttered to herself. OOC: Finals are done.
  4. IC: Madrigal Hangar Jill arrived at the hangar, fashionably(?) late. The armoring process had eaten into her time more than expected, meaning that even Nik had made it to the space faster than she had. Attempting to not draw any attention to herself (as much as someone wearing MJOLNIR armor could), she slunk towards the others, making sure to end up at the rear of the group. Already she was reaching for her helmet to remove it, a process made difficult by her rifle still being in her right hand. Assuming she did this right, the others wouldn't think too much about her appearance, as they all seemed rather busy... OOC: Sorry for the quiet, it's a busy weekend (finals...)
  5. IC: Madrigal Armory With the other Spartans now filing out towards assembly, Jill hurried to finish outfitting herself. Spartan or not, military personnel use the equipment that they have been assigned (though there exists considerably more leeway for customization for special forces than the lay-rifleman). For Jill, that equipment was a standard-issue MA5D ICWS and a M6H2 magnum - a rather standard loadout, perhaps embarrassingly so in comparison to some of what the others were packing. Neither weapon was heavily customized either, something that was on Jill's rather expansive list of things to do, but probably would be another few days before she could attend to it. Not like standard-issue really bothered her - the 5D was not much different from C, her old service rifle model, and the H2 was only so different from the rest of the M6 family. Before she was a Spartan, the MA5 was her tool of choice - the recoil was manageable, and its automatic fire allowed her to suppress a target area with little difficulty. Now, though, her enhanced body meant that the once nigh-uncontrollable recoil of the M6 was now not much more than a steady, slight kick against her palm. And that stopping power just could not be beat. But if you were to ask Jill what her weapon of choice was, she wouldn't point to either firearm. They were for protection, defensive tools to keep herself alive in the thick of combat. The heavy backpack she was busily rifling through was her real offensive equipment. Inside the confines of the battle-pack was a host of bits and bobs, almost too many to count: antenna parts, spare radios, jammers, wire taps, signal boosters, EMP grenades... the list was on and on. When she was in the Marines, she could carry a third as much of these because of the sheer weight of it all. Between her enhancements and the MJOLNIR, she could carry a person's weight in EWAR equipment without even really noticing it. These were her weapons, the tools by which she waged war. Break down enemy communications, access them and interfere, while protecting your own from intrusion - EWAR done correctly meant absolute tactical dominance, and Jill played to win. Closing the pack, she slung it over her back. She slapped her magnum against her hip, the magnetic lock sealing it to her side for when she needed it. Her rifle she would carry, as the pack completely covered the back magnetic docks. With her outfitting done, the Spartan moved to leave the armory in order to catch up with the others. Her helmet, still on from the armoring process, fed her directions to the hangar assembly point with a single request. There was definitely something to be said about cybernetic implants. OOC: Sorry about the late start, everyone!
  6. IC: Madrigal Armory There was positively lightning in the air between Nik and Artur - and as someone who has spent a lifetime around antennas would know, it's best to move and find shelter when a storm could hit. Quickly, Jill slipped past the remaining Spartans and made for the locker room so she could finally change out of her BDUs and into her undersuit, the first step of the armoring process. Taking off clothes took barely any time at all, but putting on the undersuit always was a slow and irritating process. The material used was not quite spandex, but it was certainly spandex-adjacent, and like a diver's suit one needed to put the whole thing on across the entire body. This was where the trouble was, fighting against both the material and her body's own (considerable) limits to get the thing on. After a minute of excruciatingly un-Spartan-like levels of struggle (which, to the discerning ear, was audible from the other side of the locker room door), Jill reappeared and stepped towards the armor station to begin the process of the equipment being nigh-grafted onto her. Standing inside of the hoop felt silly, arms and legs outstretched into a position to make it easier for the mechanical arms to do their work, but that was the sort of thing you got used to with time. Maybe someday they'd make a MJOLNIR kit one could strap on like a Marine's kevlar... someday. Piece by piece, her power armor was locked into place around her body. The specific MJOLNIR kits that she used were mostly the standard WARRIOR-class, a reliable system that had a good trade in maneuverability and sturdiness. Her chest-piece and leg pieces were all of WARRIOR make, leaving her arms, and more importantly her helmet, to belong to the ANUBIS family of MJOLNIR kit. ANUBIS armor was meant for sensor work, with built-in equipment that any EWAR specialist would have dreamed of. The helmet in particular, according to what little Jill knew of it, was designed in concert with the Sangheili - an interesting bit of post-war cooperation. Regardless of who had built the thing, a helmet that could pick up and discriminate between the vast majority of the EM spectrum was aces in her book. The entire armor was painted a matte green, a deep olive that would have triggered some vague sense of familiarity for any UNSC personnel who fought on Earth. The paint used on the newest sets of armor was not of the highest quality, and already she could see chipping and flaking just from test use in War Games. Another problem she would have to manage later. When the armoring process finally finished, Jill trod quickly (but not too quickly - no matter how long she had been wearing the suit, she always had the disconcerting feeling that the floors of a starship weren't rated for a ton-plus of flesh and metal distributed over two footprints-worth of area) to the equipment lockers so that she could grab her kit. OOC: I'm not sure how long the armoring process takes, so feel free to leave for the hangar without me if it's a half-hour long process or some such. @Dane-gerous @The UltimoScorp @Pteronura Brasiliensis
  7. IC: Jill flashed a toothy smile somewhere between kill me and oh don't you start as she started to scoot on past Julia and towards the changing rooms and lockers at the back of the armory. "Nah, got stuck trying to fix a [invective] radio. Lost track of time." She replied. "Really starting to hope that I'm not the only person late right about now..." OOC: I'll keep talking to people if they engage with me, otherwise I'll start getting suited up. @Krayzikk @Pteronura Brasiliensis
  8. "Sure, I'm ready." Jill replied with a frown. "Not looking forward to it, though. Small, fast-moving..." - she, in not much less than five syllables, likened them to those with an active Oedipal complex - "All kinds of hidden compartments and passageways they could use to get the drop on us." Her free hand absently scratched at her brow as she spoke. "It's been a while since I've done a boarding action." She gave a once-over of the Spartan who had addressed her, DMR on his back. A strange choice, she thought, for interior fighting. "What about you, Artur? You feeling up for this?" OOC: @Pteronura Brasiliensis @Dane-gerous Edit: Apologies, getting my locations mixed up - editing now
  9. IC: Madrigal Armory As Julia stood, expectantly, by the door, the entrance opened with a hydraulic whoosh to reveal another member of the team. Spartan Jillian Munroe stood on the other side, still dressed in her BDUs. Under the crook of her arm rests - as always - her service cap, colored the same Navy grey as her uniform, and on her face is a wan, embarrassed smile. Jill gestures towards deeper into the armory as she attempts to slide past the already kitted-up super soldier. "Sorry, just need to slide past - got held up on the way down." She said, by way of apology. "Just gotta get changed and into the suit." Truthfully, it'd been her own fault. Time had slipped past her as she had worked on a particularly frustrating problem - an old back-up radio, a relic really, from the Human-Covenant War, was simply refusing to cooperate with the latest in UNSC standard encryption protocols. To fix that, one had to all but tear the thing apart, manually solder new chips into the circuitboards and carefully remove others. At this point, it was questionable if this particular radio would ever work, and it was even more questionable if she would ever need to use it - she already had three other successful "patients" to use in the field, but Jill found that sort of question less than useful. If it could be done, it would be done - only a matter of how long it would take. Besides, there was value in older equipment, stuff that OPFOR wouldn't consider when jamming, or more easily repaired thanks to the relative simplicity of the parts. And now, here she was, more than a few minutes late to a process that would already take a while. It's not like you can just slip into a MJOLNIR suit, after all. All she could hope is that she wouldn't leave them waiting at the dropship for too long... OOC: @Dane-gerous hallo there!
  10. Gotcha, I can do some expanding on that front. To be fair, I did finish that around 3:20am my time. Oh, to clarify, "loud" meant more, erm, vocal.
  11. OnName: Jillian 'Jill' Munroe Species: Human Gender: Female Age: 31 Appearance: Jill would look like any other Marine, from her raven-black hair shaved to regulation standard to her seemingly omnipresent service cap tucked neatly underneath the crook of her arm when indoors (which, on a starship, is constantly), were it not for the work of the technicians of Project ORCHID. Now at a SPARTAN standard 6'6", she stands several heads taller than most of her former compatriots, let alone herself not that long ago. Her body, now a superhuman tower of muscle, bears the scars that most survivors of the Covenant's final campaign for Earth - the pucked, rippled skin that results from a direct hit from a plasma weapon. On her right arm, where the unit patch on a Marine BDU would be, is a tattoo of the unit she served with during that last, desperate struggle - 3rd Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment, the victors of the Siege of Voi. The tattoo specifically is an arrowhead facing down the arm, otherwise filled in save for the silhouette of a bird of prey mid-strike. Incidental details include her eye color (blue), her weight (a SPARTAN-standard 289lb), and her teeth (several of her teeth on her left side are artificial, replacements for those lost during combat). Rank: Spartan - former rank: Technical Sergeant (T/SGT) Personality: Jill has a Marine's temperament, which is to say there is an invisible little switch in her head that she can flip between when around fellow noncoms and enlisted and when addressing anyone of a higher rank. Like any Marine, she is a swarthy-mouthed gremlin of a human being and an absolute wizard at profanity when under fire (or when bored). Having made it to the dreaded rank of Sergeant, she has lost her lower-enlisted knack for avoiding unwanted duties (not that SPARTANs generally are assigned to such menial, military labor), and has on occasion relished in exercising her rank and privilege on the poor s without three stripes on their BDUs. Jill is more stubborn than she is technically minded, an accidental savant who will throw herself at a problem until it "stops getting in the way and cooperates for once" (this is, of course, the censored version of the quote). With that comes a sense of pride for every accomplishment and proficiency she has, and a tendency to get into (generally) friendly competition with those around her in areas she considers her domain. When the chips are down, she is more than willing to throw herself into harm's way for the sake of a fellow warrior, and generally sees victory as secondary to the survival of the element (as she'd put it - again, censored - "you can't try again if everyone's dead"). Background: Born in Dublin, Ireland, Earth in 2527, Jill grew up on a planet preparing for the worst. Between wartime propaganda and a reasonable fear of extinction, Jill was always drawn towards a career in the UNSC military. Her father's failing health instead forced her to pursue a more civilian career, one that would keep her closer to home in case she was needed. After two years of technical college following graduating from high school in the spring of 2545, she would spend the next three years working as an electrician. In 2549, her father passed suddenly from a heart attack, leaving her and her other father alone to face an uncertain future. She would continue her work in the civilian field until 2551, when she was finally served her conscription papers. While privately elated to leave for the exciting and dangerous world of warfare and weaponry, her departure meant leaving her father behind. Her leaving for basic indoctrination would be the last time she saw any member of her family in person again. Enlisted in the Marine Corps, Jill was quickly recognized for her civilian skillset and was given a communication specialist MOS - a job that required the maintaining of radio and datalink networks while under fire. She was still a young Lance Corporal when the pivotal year of 2552 arrived, serving with the Earth-deployed 3/7 Marines when Reach fell, Halo was found and destroyed, and the war finally reached the birthplace of humanity. Like countless others, L/CPL Jillian Munroe fought and bled during the Covenant invasion, and was there when the ceasefire was signed in late 2552. Her service earmarked her for the SPARTAN-IV program, and was formally invited in 2557. Equipment: Jill's primary ordinance is the MA5D ICWS, the standard-issue rifle of the UNSC military, with a M6H2 magnum as a sidearm. Her real weapon, as she would put it, is the backpack she carries with her on all combat operations. Inside is a bevy of technical equipment meant for use in EWAR, or electronic warfare - antennas and signal boosters for communication, scramblers and jammers for blocking enemy communications, wiretaps and EMP grenades, and more than a few spare radios. An AI might be objectively better at electronic warfare, but an AI requires a conduit to work through - all Jill needs is her hands, and that's more than enough. And, as she'd note, she's yet to see a computer field-assemble an antenna while under fire. Her MJOLNIR armor is a mix between the standard WARRIOR-class MJOLNIR kit (primarily the chest-piece and legs) and the specialized ANUBIS-class MJOLNIR kit (specifically the helmet and the gauntlets/arm-pieces). Her armor is painted an olive green, not unlike the color of a Battle of Earth-era Scorpion tank. Skills: Basic combat proficiency. SPARTAN-level training and augmentation. Electronic warfare, communications, and electrical repair specialities based on over a decade of experience both in and out of the UNSC Marine Corps. Flaws: Can be combative or territorial over areas of expertise she considers her own. Can be extremely blunt when talking to people at an equivalent rank or lower than her. Doggedly stubborn, occasionally to her own detriment. Does not have a "mission-first" mentality, which may lead to conflict in the field. Loud.
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