Long Form Roleplayers

09:52 The_Iron_Mercenary: I look right and left, as I turn down the hallway, ensuring that no one was watching me.

I'm dressed in a nondescript suit, simple black shoes, jeans, white pullover sweater. So far, no one has given me a second glance. I walk and move with the purpose and confidence of a man who belongs. Basic SAS training for infiltration. It helps that I look remarkably similar to the Secretary of Defense's guard, who is now lying dead, shoved in the trunk of his car. I'm even wearing his clothes.

Standing 6'1, weighing at 220 pounds of lean, hard, battle-forged muscle, I'm a killing machine doing the job I love.

When the Secretary of Defense arrives home, he will shortly come down with a case of dead, thanks to me. Max Irons. Brutal, ruthless mercenary, head of security for the notorious criminal organization, the Dark Order, whose mission is to spread chaos. Why? Because chaos creates opportunity. Why the Secretary of Defense? Because he's trying to hunt us down. And of course, his death will create substantial chaos.

I chuckle, then move silently down the dim hall, gliding with the special grace of an elite combatant, senses alert to every single movement and every detail around me, ears straining, eyes darting, maintaining an elite level of situational awareness. The Secretary's bedroom is not far now. I figure that will be the perfect place to kill him.
19:15 Ryan_Steel: Going from SWAT to being assigned protection of high level politicians in DC would be seen as a career upgrade for most people, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss the old PD. This job wasn’t the most exciting and most of my time was spent reading through intel and doing routine checks around their offices and homes.

Today was supposed to be my day off, but I got an urgent call about a credible threat to the Secretary of Defense halfway through my MMA training session.

There wasn’t a whole lot of details so it could be anything from a protester jumping over his wall to something more serious.

I got in my car not knowing what to expect and drove to his home. Plain clothes but at least I got to take my gun with me.

I get to the gate of the secretary’s home and show my ID to the guard standing there. I ask him if everything is alright and he confirms in an unconcerned tone then mentions the guy isn’t even home yet but should be arriving soon. Without revealing much about why I’m there I tell him to round up his guys and do a head count and search the perimeter.

The guard at the front door lets me in and I immediately go to the secretary’s office to check if there’s anything out of place. The place is tidy and there aren’t any signs of tampering anywhere. I don’t have to tell everyone about the intel I received but I think it will be a good idea to at least check with his personal body guard if he has seen anything suspicious.

“Agent Steel to Oscar, come in”

I radio the bodyguard waiting for a reply.
04:45 The_Iron_Mercenary: I reach the secretary's bedroom, and open the door. my eyes dart around the opulent, richly furnished bed chamber. Noting the position of the window, the distance between the door to the bed, and another door which I quickly verify leads to an en-suite bathroom.

There is another door on the far side of the bedroom. I silently glide over the carpet towards the door. The door is slightly ajar, allowing me to peek through the crack between the door frame and the hinges, I see what must be the secretary's home office.

Then as I'm glancing through the crack in the door, the door to the office opens, and a man walks through. He carries himself with that special confidence and bearing of a man who knows how to fight. I instantly had him pegged as special service, special forces or SWAT.

He was handsome, and dressed in plain clothes, but his clothing didn't hide the fact that he was solidly, powerfully built. But the most important detail was that he wasn't the secretary, nor was he any of the staff that worked closely with the secretary. While preparing for this assassination, I'd made sure to learn everyone who was close to the secretary.

I frowned. This was an unwanted complication.

He does a thorough inspection of the office, and I note the attention to detail. I silently pivot away from the crack in the door, and flatten myself against the wall, controlling my breathing with professional skill to keep myself silent.

He was good. Then, suddenly, my earpiece activates. Well, not mine, but the earpiece I took from the Secretary's dead bodyguard, Oscar.

At the same time, I hear the man's voice speaking from next door. He uses the secretary's dead bodyguard's first name. That instantly narrows my options. If this Agent Steel knows the bodyguard by name, I'm not going to bluff my way out. I can pass for Oscar from a short distance, even enough to fool the guards at the gate, but not someone who is on a first name basis with the dead bodyguard.

Well, fuck.

I explode into instant violence, flinging the door to the secretary's office open. I keep my gun in it's holster, not wanting to instantly alert the entire household if I can avoid it. I'd prefer to settle this as quickly and quietly as possible, using the element of surprise.

Every combat-forged, steel hard muscle in my body ripples with power as I drive into the secretary's office, launching a lightning fast spinning roundhouse kick towards the tough agent's head, gambling on my element of surprise to aid my opening attack.

12:26 Ryan_Steel: I sense something is wrong when there’s no reply from Oscar. My instincts plus the intel I received earlier gets me on high alert and I immediately try to get to the main gate to alert the security staff. Before I even get out of the office the door swings open and all I see is a foot coming towards my face. My legs buckle and I lose balance. Hunching over and holding the edge of the table with my left arm I try to make sense of what just happened. Raising my head and feeling the taste of blood running from my nose to the back of my throat I see a figure rushing towards me that looks like Oscar. My head is buzzing and my eyes are filled with water. Son of a bitch got me right on the nose. I’m breathing hard with my mouth wide open.
My mind is wondering why Oscar would be doing this. Is he a double agent? Did the intel come from him? Is this a setup? As the figure comes closer my body switches to fight mode. I push myself up but my legs are still wobbling from the surprise attack. It was brutal and precise. This is obviously someone who is trained in combat and knows what he’s doing. I slide my hand towards my holster but realise it’s too late for that. I only have a split second so I go for a takedown instead. It’s a bit sloppy, but the best I can do. Using every muscle in my body I lift the bastard up in a double leg and we both hit the ground. Bastard must weigh at least 200lbs and must be armed so I know grappling with him in the middle of the room will be too much of a risk. While he’s still on his back I push us both to a corner and press him against the wall. This gives me a good position to control both his arms and stop him from reaching for anything. Now is my chance to try and stun this beast. To do that I will have to release control from at least one of his arms, it’s a high risk but one I’m willing to take as there’s no alternative. I quickly raise my right arm to land a quick succession of elbows to his face. Hopefully the impact of the blows and his head bouncing against the wall will give me the upper hand. If it doesn’t, it will leave me in a vulnerable position, the last thing I need right now…

12:58 The_Iron_Mercenary: I had the element of surprise, right enough, and my kick smashes Agent Steel right in his nose, stunning him and sending a spray of blood flying.

But even as I reset my stance, preparing to press my advantadge, Agent Steel shows me that my initial assessment was spot on. The muscled fucker can fight, and fight well. Despite taking a kick to the head, he charges me with impressive speed and ruthless skill, in a textbook perfect double leg takedown that catches me off guard.

I'm smashed to the floor, taken down hard, already shifting my stance, my legs instinctively snapping up around his muscular waist to lock him in my guard. Agent Steel powers me across the floor of the office, driving me into the corner while I fight to control him. He's a muscular bastard, not lacking in sheer power nor skill.

He seizes my arms as he drives me into the corner, and we are in a temporary stalemate. But soon, he releases my left arm, and raises his own right elbow, looking to pound my bearded face with elbow drops. I'm not a fucking rookie, and instantly I cover my face with my right arm, eating those elbows as best I can in the crook of my muscled bicep and forearm.

More than a few of those blows scrape off my guard, and hammer my face, opening up a few cuts on my cheeks and forehead, bouncing my head against the wall, while the blood from his nose drips on my white sweater. I blunt the worst of the shock, but he's doing serious damage. I'm not hanging around here all day.

I grunt, and open up my guard just long enough to plant my left shoe against the wall of the opposite, corner, and heave with all my might, my abs flexing at the same moment up and to his left,sweeping him, using the wall to help, to switch positions and secure a full mount on the fucking Agent Steel, blood dripping down from my face.

Those elbows had dazed me, but I was a hardened combatant, it would take more than that to finish me off.

From the full mount, I transitioned quickly off to one side, spearing my knee deep in Agent Steel's muscled ab wall to knock the wind out of him and stun him.

Then, from there, I drop my weight back on top of the muscled Agent Steel's chest, going for full side control, my powerful arms grappling to control his own right arm now, while my legs fight to keep his left arm pinned beneath my weight.

I snarl down at Agent Steel, "You are in the wrong place at the wrong time, mother fucker!"

I exert all my considerable skill and strength, blood dripping from my face, blood dripping from his face, to control his right arm. This leaves the left side of his face open, and I bring my right knee swinging forward, looking to fucking bash him brutally with a series of knee strikes to his jaw and face, hoping that will stun him long enough to take full control of his right arm.

18:09 Ryan_Steel: My strikes land and do some damage on the man’s face but not enough to make him quit. Most other people would have been out by now but this guy seems to have a high tolerance to pain. The efficiency with which he transitions to side control and mount catches me by surprise, the weight advantage brings a reality check when his massive knee pummels my midsection. I let out a faint groan, the pain is a lot worse than I’m willing to reveal and the hard floor between my stomach and his knee doesn’t help. No amount of training can prepare someone for a situation where there’s a real danger. I can be seriously hurt or worse if I let this animal have his way.

Just as I try to breathe some air in, I feel the man’s weight on my chest, making my muscles cramp, I groan and arch my back upwards to get some relief, but when he says something about being in the wrong place at the wrong time it hits me this isn’t Oscar I’m dealing with. My arm is now pinned and I’m filled with terror when I realise what’s about to come. People say BJJ is like playing chess with your body, and whoever this man was, he knew how to make use of the surprise element and leave me in a vulnerable position. If this was an MMA match, this is the point where the ref would be ready to step in, knowing a stoppage was imminent. But this wasn’t a match, there were no refs or corners here. My face was wide open and exposed, my arms unable to react and my torso too sore to twist me around. I use both my legs to push my body upwards in a futile attempt to regain some control of the situation, but the weight makes it impossible and my pelvis comes back down on the hard floor.
18:30 The_Iron_Mercenary: I grunt, feeling Agent Steel buck and writhe beneath me. Just as I was about to blast this muscled up agent in the face he once more proves to me that my initial assessment was spot on. The fucker can fight. He bridges up, his feet planted in a wide stance, trying to throw me off.

And he comes damn close to it, but my stance is wide, and my 220 is balanced right across Agent Steel's hard-muscled chest, my center of gravity driven with instinctive precision through his center mass.

I adjust my grip, but stay on top, and blast that knee forward hard directly into the side of his good-looking face with a massive crunch. On the back of that knee blast to his head, I drop my weight down low, trying to crush him out, flatten the fucker out. I managed to get firm control of that right arm.

Every muscle in my body ripples like cabled steel as I focus my entire efforts on one goal: putting this fucker into an utterly savage, crippling kimura lock from side control.

18:53 Ryan_Steel: The knee to my face almost knocks me out. In a way I wish it did. The pain mixed with the knowledge of being in an almost unrecoverable position make the situation unbearable. I’ve rolled with some heavier guys before but this is different. I feel like an elephant is on top of me.
My right arm is now completely immobilized, like a piece of rubber gripped by 220lbs of muscle, skill and cruelty. My facial expression contorts furiously as I feel the motherfucker apply a kimura. Every tendon from my hand all the way to my shoulder is now on fire.

“UUUUGHHHRRRR”

I let out a groan of pain, mixed with anger. Anger at myself for ending up in this situation. How could I have fucked up so badly. I can only protest as I feel my arm getting twisted in an unnatural position. This is when I’m supposed to tap out, but that’s not an option today. My body instinctively jolts and twists, trying to adjust itself in a less painful position. Whatever strength I have left at this point can’t help me. This is physics, torque. Either my forearm will snap or my shoulder will pop out of place. The pain is so intense I can feel my chest contracting involuntarily and the veins on my neck and face bulge as I resist the temptation of begging for mercy.
19:02 The_Iron_Mercenary: That knee did the trick, stunning this tough mother fucker just enough to let me get that kimura locked in tight as a button. Blood drips down my face, onto his trapped arm, as I begin to flex my body, every muscle turning steel-hard, as I start to out muscle his trapped arm.

"Gonna fucking kill you, Agent Steel. After I break your arm. There's gonna be a job vacancy for your post, real damn soon. I hope they give you a nice ..."

I grunt, then my entire body surges with a blast of power radiating out from my flexed abs as I bend that kimura all the way back, hearing and feeling bone start to break in this Agent's now fucked arm.

"... funeral!"

19:17 Ryan_Steel: My mind is flooded with pain. I feel my arm breaking and disconnecting in different places. I let out a loud cry as spit sprays out of my mouth. The fear of being permanently crippled mixes with the agony of trying to find a position that will relieve the pain somehow. I raise my arm, trying to punch the beast away from me, but my body is so mangled the punches are embarrassingly ineffective. I give in to the pain and raise my left arm towards my face, covering my eyes as I lay on the ground.

“I will fucking kill you”

The threat sounds more like a whimper. I turn my head to the side to assess the damage only to see the disturbing sight of my arm dangling and bent. I’m not weak, but the ease with which this man just snapped me like a toy makes me try to get out of there for the sake of survival. I don’t stand a fighting chance like that and my best hope is to call for help. I crawl towards the other end of the room where the fire alarm is.
03:41 The_Iron_Mercenary: I grunt with satisfaction as I feel a brief moment of resistance from Agent Steel's hard-muscled arm, but physics is physics, and thanks to my elite training and skill, it's on my side. That hard-muscled arm suddenly gives way, snapping like a twig.

The tough Agent lets out a cry of pain as I bend his arm backwards, that powerful limb snapped in two places, and the shoulder ripped out of it's socket to boot. Job done. I release his ruined arm, as it flops and dangles at an unnatural angle, twisting to get to my feet, preparing to finish the job and kill Steel.

The injured Agent throws several punches at me as I release them, but they are uncoordinated, wild swings. I bat his punches away with a look of contempt in my eyes. He whimpers out some ridiculuous threat, while cowering and covering himself. I raise my foot, about to curb stomp the broken Agent, but just then my keen ears hear a noise.

Ignoring Agent Steel for a moment, I glide to the window, and flick aside the curtain. There, at the gates, is the Secretary's limousine. The security guards are waving him through. Time for me to finish Agent Steel and complete my job. He was just the appetizer, the Secretary is the main course.

I turn, and grunt in annoyance. Agent Steel is crawling across the floor, his broken arm dangling awkwardly. There is a fire alarm on the far wall. No, that's not going to happen.

I leap smoothly, on top of the crawling Agent's back, landing like a ton of bricks, snarling, "Nice try Agent Steel, but I'm not finished with you yet."

With expert speed, taking advantage of that brief window of opportunity while I've stunned the broken Agent, I thread my hard-muscled left arm over the forearm and under the Agent's left shoulder, looking to neutralize his one remaining good arm in a brutally ruthless chicken wing.

At the same time, my right arm shoots around his neck, my right hand reaching over to grasp my left hand, securing a rock-solid cross face chicken wing hold, combining both a sleeper choke and a brutally destructive arm lock.

My right bicep flexes like a cannonball, driving into Agent Steel's muscled neck and throat to prevent him from shouting out, as the blade of my right forearm turns in and with precise skill, drives into his carotid artery to cut off the blood to his brain.

I snarl into his ear, finally responding to his ridiculous wimpered threat "Go on then Agent Steel, let's see you kill me. Oh wait... I'm afraid that's going to be extremely difficult when you are dead. I wish I could say you were a worthy opponent, but you aren't even in my league, Steel. If you are the best your government has to keep the Secretary safe, then thanks to you, he's as good as dead already."

My muscular frame tightens, a surge of strength radiating out from my flexed core, my arms turning steel-hard as I lock the sleeper in and rip brutally at his hard-muscled left arm and shoulder in the chicken wing, while his shattered right arm flops around uselessly. It shouldn't take long before Agent Steel is knocked out cold, and shortly after that, dead.
16:38 Ryan_Steel: The weight of the attacker on my back sends a jolt of pain through my upper body. The agony of having my injured body moved around without warning scorches every fibre of muscle on my mangled arm. I was now on the receiving end of a chicken wing. The irony of falling for the most basic technique I’ve used to immobilize street thugs and criminals for years… The man’s arm wraps around my neck like a snake. It coils perfectly despite my attempt at tucking my chin in to delay the unavoidable. From the ground I can see our reflection in a mirror opposite. I’m a mess. My face is covered in blood and sweat, my shirt looks more like a floor mop, my shorts hang low on my overstretched torso, revealing my holster on my waist. I get a good look at the son of a bitch’s face, one I won’t forget.

As a last attempt I do a gator roll to try and shake him off. Easier said than done, I’m spent and hurt at this point. Ribcage expanding and contracting almost involuntarily. I saw myself as invincible until now. Anger turns to humiliation because I know I could take this fucker on. I feel his grip getting tighter and my bicep bulges between his arm while my blood-soaked teeth and tongue become visible as my face contracts in an expression of terror. He whispers something to me but it sounds like he is miles away. First my hearing starts to go, then my peripheral vision, then my mind.
17:15 The_Iron_Mercenary: Agent Steel struggles as I lock him down, brutally. He tries to fight me, tries to keep his chin tucked in tight, but all I have to do is grind his broken arm into the mat to shock him enough to let me sink it in. I can feel his body tremble and start to spasm as my blood choke tightens.

Our eyes meet, through the mirror on the opposite wall. My gaze is full of contempt for this government agent. I take in the sight of my victim, sweat soaked, blood soaked, his shirt and shorts all askew, his holster and gun might as well be on the moon for all the good they can do him now. His powerful body broken and robbed of it's strength.

My hard-lined, bearded face is battered and bloody as well, and my white sweater is spotted with blood.

He even tries a gator roll, but with one arm shattered, and the other securely locked out in a chicken wing, it does nothing. I grunt in deep satisfaction. It's moments like this that I live for. The moment when my enemy is defeated. It's like a drug, destroying powerful opponents. I can never get enough. I feel him go limp at last, his muscles relaxing, but I don't let up the sleeper. Just about ten more seconds, and he won't just be unconscious, he'll be dead.

But suddenly, I hear footsteps coming up the hall. Fuck. The Secretary must be coming. I crush down for a few more seconds, that should be enough to ensure he's dead, then I let up, and let his blood spattered body drop to the floor, his muscled right arm twisted at a grotesque angle, his face bloodied.

I get up, my own face bloody and battered. Agent Steel was no joke. I'm under no illusions. I got the jump on him, and that made all the difference. But in other circumstances, I doubted I would have had such an easy time.

I take a quick moment to relieve Agent Steel of his wallet. I didn't think that his presence here was a coincidence. Not at all. I wanted to find out how he knew. Stealing his wallet and finding out more about Agent Steel would be a good place to start. I also removed his pistol from his holster, just to be safe.

At just that moment, the door opened, and the Secretary walked in. He looks at me, shock and a brief flash of recognition. I do look a lot like Oscar. But then he looks down and sees Agent Steel's body. And then he looks at me again, I can tell by the way the emotions are playing across his face that he realizes I'm not Oscar. I smile, and speak one simple phrase as he takes in breath to scream. "Your death Secretary, is courtesy of the Dark Order."

I fire, and the bullet slams right between his eyes. His scream is aborted, and he falls dead on top of Ryan, bleeding through the hole in his head onto Agent Steel. I reach into my wallet, and grab two business cards. They are simple, and contain no writing, just the symbol of the Dark Order. I place one card on each man.

Then, as shouts and screams begin to echo around the house from that single gunshot, I open the window, and vanish into the night.

Job done.
20:43 Ryan_Steel: I slowly regain my senses and find myself in a hospital bed. My right arm has a cast on it and there are bandages on my face. At first I don’t understand where I am or how I ended up here, but gradually I piece together fragments of my memory. I fucked up. Big time. It doesn’t take long before my superior enters the room and explains to me what happened. I sink when I find out both Oscar and the secretary got killed. Under my watch.

“You are lucky to be alive. Whoever did this to you could have easily killed you. It’s a mystery why he even let you live”.

The urge to get out of bed is stopped only by my condition. Broken bones, ruptured tendons and a surgery. There’s fuck all I can do in this state. Then the bad news hit.

“We will have to put you on administrative leave while we carry out an investigation”.

My obvious reaction would be to protest, but then it strikes me. If I’m on leave, I can operate under the radar. No agency rules, no code of conduct or legalese. I would be on my own and have the freedom to find the son of a bitch who did this. Get my payback on him and his organization. “The Dark Order”. Heard of them. Everyone in law enforcement has, but few managed to make contact and even fewer came back alive to tell the tale.

“Don’t try to do anything stupid, Ryan”

I’m told as if my mind was being read.

“The press is all over this clusterfuck of a story. We did our best to protect your identity, but if we find out you’re getting involved in this any further you will be facing a discharge from your job”.

I interpret that as an advice rather than a command, but I keep my mouth shut. I won’t rest until I hear that coward beg for his life.

Published: 2023-04-12, viewed 84 times.