Whitzz/544K-RP-Datasets huggingface dataset:
Thread: Warfighter 2000: World War III RP IC Thread

Authorized by Hawkeye. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - You're on your own now. Good luck. It would have been a revitalizing thing to say after a harsh training regimen, or perhaps after earning one's jumpwings or some other decoration, but those words came right out of left field and took everyone by surprise with just how batshit insane it all was. The Soviets and their allies were still out there licking their wounds like tigers waiting in the brush while the environment, the concrete jungles these NATO soldiers were in, shook and crumbled all around. The smorgasbord of military types, drawn from elite pools to reserves to whatever body could fill the space, was skilled enough to handle an enemy force, but with the world so totally fucked as it was, there would be civilians, looters, human scum and who-knows-what-else lurking around looking for someone, anyone, to make a wrong move. For the NATO forces in Frankfurt an der Oder, a German city positioned right on the Oder riverGerman-Polish border, luck wouldn't be enough to get them out of this shithole. Some of the soldiers might have relished the challenge, perhaps felt a sense of pleasure or pride at the prospect of fulfilling their purpose. Marcia Cervantes was not one of them. She stared at the radio that had given them their final message and twitched in anger and anticipation, yet she didn't dare speak. Apparently, though groomed for a position as a logistics officer, she was still an officer and thus was expected to keep her composure in front of the enlisted. Her latino blood boiled, and it was her hope that someone from their ragtag platoon would say what was on everyone's mind at that time. Thank goodness they were in that Observation Post at the time, and even better that it had a roof on it, for things were surely going to get slick with shit.
Thread: Warfighter 2000: World War III RP IC Thread

Youre on your own. Good luck. Private Aiden McNabs head snapped up at the words coming across his headset, a look of confusion crossing his youthful features. Perched as he was above his conpanys camp in a tall buildings window, keeping an eye out for enemy patrols, he couldnt immediately reply. Flipping the covers on his scope down and slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he clambered downstairs and out of the building, grunting as he shouldered the heavy door open.. Shit... he muttered, heading into the camp. Shit, shit, shit... That had to be NATO. Soldiers all over the camp were emerging from their tents, similar expressions of confusion and dismay poised on their faces. Murmurs filtered to Aidens ears as they chatted quietly they were still deep in enemy territory, and sound carried on the wind. Aiden made his way to where the commanding officer was and rapped his gloved knuckles on the doorframe. He snapped a smart salute when the few officers crowded around the radio looked up. Private McNab reporting. At the soft at ease, he relaxed, a worried look crossing his face. Is it true, sirs? Is NATO really abandoning us?
Thread: Warfighter 2000: World War III RP IC Thread

As the camp was coming alife with people starting to talk about the message from NATO HQ. Arvid Eriksen, a member of the Norwegian Special Forces group known as the HJK. The Sergeant Major was cleaning his AG-3 with HK79 grenade launcher attached , which was Norwegian made HK G3. The rifle was his life as any rifle was a soldier's life and if they didn't take care of it, they were dead. He was clearing the chamber running a cleaning cloth through the barrel before running some gun oil to lubricate the parts. As he finished, he racked the bolt handle afew times to allow the oil to lubricate the parts. Once done, he loaded a fresh mag into the mag well of the rifle racking it and loading a load into the chamber before setting the gun on safety. He stood up putting his clearing gear away in his tent. He began to walk through the camp they house the new team he was with until he was placed with another HJK team. As he walked, he began to hear people talk, some weren't at their posts like they should be. All of you, get back to your posts. If your on ground duty, get back there. Don't forgot the enemy is just outside the wall and will kill you! He yelled causing some to run off to their posts and their jobs. Great, just want we need he through as walked. He eventually talked and called over a soldier that had heard as asked him to tell him what happend. He sighed nodding letting the soldier go back to doing what he was doing. The blonde hair Norwegian ran his hand through his hair wondering what the Colonel and Officers would. He knew that cause of this new so call 'Order' the morale of the troops would drop. He would do his part to help, he made his way to where he thought some of the officers were at. He entered the observation point giving Marcia a quick salute as he saw Private McNab in there as well. What are your order lieutenant? He asked her standing at eat with his arms behind his back.
Thread: Warfighter 2000: World War III RP IC Thread

Wasn't there somebody- anybody- who could take this hornet's nest out from Marcia's hands? She was a 2nd Lieutenant, akin to being an honorary, lower-class officer given the title out of pity instead of any real effort on her part. The chocolate-haired Latino glanced around at the uniforms of other men and women to search for silver bars, oak leaves, birds and stars and other symbols, and while she could have sworn that she had seen a few around, nobody was making an effort to speak. The air was tense and people looked as if the floor was about to collapse under their feet at any moment. Somebody had to say something, and despite Marcia feeling heavier than any sandbags she placed down in basic, she figured she needed to step up. The two enlisted men, a US Marine and a European, possibly Norwegian, were the catalysts that pushed Marcia into the spotlight. She played her part with as much reservation as she could muster- a hand went out to run through her brown locks, her features smoothed to a professional level and her stance, though rigid like a mouse caught before a tiger, retained some relaxed attributes. We don't know that, Private, Marcia replied to McNab after a hurried, flustered salute back to the Sargeant Major. We're here on the front line, and High Command is back quite a way. We'll see about clearing the message up when we reconnect with HQ. If we reconnect. Oh Christ, Marcia hoped this wasn't the case she didn't want NATO to abandon her. Either way, we'll have to do some research, stay on the radio or send runners to figure out what's going on with NATO if they're- The Lieutenant cut her speech short and looked over to Eriksen as if she just had a dismal thought. Sargeant, have you walked the perimeter recently? Do we have men at their posts watching the line?
Thread: Warfighter 2000: World War III RP IC Thread

The Norwegian nodded as he replied to Marcia's question. Yes ma'am, I have some. The men are worried about what happending. They heard about the message he explained before continuing. I have ordered them back yo their posts and to keep a eye out. We may get attack if the enemy thinks something is wrong. He said sighing softly looking at the 2nd Lieutenant and the private. What's your order ma'am? He asked her wondering what she would do with this chaos that dropped in her lap. He would do his best to keep the enlisted in line and follow the order from the officers. It was the only way they could makenit to another day.
Thread: Warfighter 2000: World War III RP IC Thread

Well, the first and most obvious answer to the Norwegian's question was a flat-out I have no fucking clue, followed by the old favorite, I'm a Logistics Officer, not a Combat Unit. But Marcia, even as she opened her mouth in preparation, chose wisely. She couldn't say that- she wouldn't, not with her being stuck between a rock and a hard place. The enlisted man, the rock, would crumble and the hard place, the upper echelon, would bring a righteous hammer down upon her head long before they got their heads outta their asses. Marcia needed to think, and what she lacked in experience she made up for with the burning desire to avoid embarrassment. Simply put, it was like being put on the spot to answer a question from a teacher in high school. That's the thing, Sgt. Eriksen, Marcia remarked upon glancing at the soldier's ranknameplate. We don't know about the enemy. Command dropped a bomb over the radio for us to dismantle, disarm, whatever, all without telling us about enemy movement. She shook her head and threw her line of thought aside. Now was not the time to speculate. Uh, nevermind that. So, until these orders are superseded by a senior officer, you will do the following one, get the men on the defensive line with them looking over the river for any movement. Garrison the taller civilian structures if need be. Two, alert any civilians near our DL to move west into the city keep non-combatant casualties to a minimum that way. Same applies to any rear-echelon or support. Marcia paused, clicked her tongue and then continued that thought. Unless they insist on staying and reinforcing the main line, then leave them be. We shouldn't start turning away volunteers at this time. And finally, my third order, when you get the chance I'd like a munitions inventory. Rifles, heavy machine guns, grenades, magazines, etcetera. Turning to Private Aiden McNab, Marcia gestured to the Sargeant. Private? You should find your squad, or any squad needing an extra man, and hunker down on the line, unless Sgt. Eriksen here could- Again, Marcia second-guessed herself. Actually, why don't you go with the Sargeant? Assist him with the inventory?
Thread: Warfighter 2000: World War III RP IC Thread

Aiden adjusted the sling of his rifle, getting it into a more comfortable position on his shoulder while he listened to Lieutenant Cervantes and Sgt. Eriksen talk. He didnt feel that it was his place to say anything- they were officers, commissioned, and he was just some rookie private. His eyes flicked up from the radio sitting on the desk, and he straightened up, nodding, at Marias orders. Yes, maam, he said, snapping a smart salute. Assist the Sergeant with inventory. He then turned to the older man, waiting at attention. Awaiting orders, sir.
Thread: Warfighter 2000: World War III RP IC Thread

The string of loud and explicit profanities in both french and English would have been enough to sour the ears of even the most hardened solider for half a kilometer around the regiments command tent. Make me a colonel and then tell me to go take it up the. He cut himself off as he slammed his fists so hard on a table he cracked the water warped wood. He took in a few angry breaths and let them out and slowly calmed down. The other officers inside the tent looked on at their commander in silent aw. He had been a tired old man until recently, cool under fire and effective, but the war had been draining on a man who didn't even want to be there. They had certainly never see him explode like that. Well everyone, we are on our own. Someone give me a report on what we've got here. Some yankee's and another half regiment right?... Okay and the wounded? Someone handed him a report and he skimmed it. Two hundred, not to mention the civis to take care of. Alright, put out a call to whomever's listening and ask them to rally on us. Or at least give a rep. There had to be a lot more lost guys out there, no doubt just as miffed as the french right now, and they need to pull them together somehow. Send it out in whatever languages we speak, accept Russian. Say Colonel Joffre, 2 Regiment Foreign Legion is assuming command of the situation in the absence of a higher authority. Anyone who disagrees can come say so to my MG okay. he then stormed out to light up a cigarette and take a smoke break. He probably woudln't get to do that much more and he needed one right now. And send out a few patrols to look for the idiots who have turned their radios off.
Thread: Warfighter 2000: World War III RP IC Thread

Arvid looked at the young American Marine as the lieutenant gave them the order to check the inventory of the camp. The Norwegian nodded and gave a quick salute before turning and stepping out with a nod to the private to follow. Once outside. He sighed before walking to the base's supply dump. What's you name Private? He askrd as they headed to the dump. Let me give you a little word, don't mean to sound bad. But don't call me sir. I work for a living and quite happy being a NCO. He said smirking letting the young man see that he could joke. Then, his tone change shaking his head. The lieutenant is in shock and second guessing herself. We need to help her makr the right choices and as long as she and us follow the Colonel's orders. Most will make it he said as they got to the dump. Start counting the food and medical suppiles. I will get the ammo and fuel he said as he began yo check the inventory of the ammo that was at the supply dump.
Thread: Warfighter 2000: World War III RP IC Thread

Aiden chuckled at Arvids words, following along with him. Private Aiden McNab, he said, offering a casual salute. And I agree. Assisting the higher-ups is a priority. The private nodded in response to the sergeants orders, grabbing a clipboard and heading for the other side of the depot to take stock of the food and medical supplies. So far, there hasnt been any major injuries that he knew of, so the medical supplies had barely been touched. Taking stock of the food was a different story. With troops from several nations all camped in one spot, rations were dwindling rapidly. Aiden cursed softly when he noted just how low the food supplies were getting, shaking his head as he moved from crate to crate. Taking off his helmet, the blond soldier ran his gloved hand through his hair. Jeez... We really need to resupply...
Thread: Warfighter 2000: World War III RP IC Thread

So the Sargeant and Private banded together like brothers to carry out the Lieutenant's orders. Marcia wanted to smile at that- she really did- but with all the doom and gloom and grand speeches being flung about, the woman settled for a tired, relieved grimace. She plucked a few strands of chocolate-colored hair and tucked them behind her ears before turning back to her post and to logistical reports, radios, documents and runners with much to talk about but very little to say. But there wasn't anything new to mull over, and with the threat of an enemy invasion looming over the heads of every soldier, even if there was the opportunity to double-check notes and logistic reports, there were better things to do. Even a Sargeant and Private could see that- perhaps they knew it all along and jumped at the opportunity to get out of this Observation Post. In due time Marcia would have to seek out her weaponry hanging near the exit. She had fired her weapons many times before, but she had no combat experience. Perhaps in the coming hours that would change. Colonel Joffre? Marcia was only able to hear the tail-end of what the French colonel had to say before the man stormed outside. She wanted to follow him and perhaps get a little advice out of him, but from the way he moved and brandished his cigarette it seemed clear that he needed a moment to himself. Hmm. Well, aren't we just a smorgasbord of countries? The colonel had assumed command, and with his gruff nature and assertive personality, Marcia supposed he was the best man for the job. She also heard about his order- sending out a few patrols to find men and women who had turned their radios off- and thought about going out to find some more sergeants who could see all that through. Hell, with how little things were changing at this point, Marcia had the urge to pick up her guns and attach herself to a patrolling squad. Before she knew it, the Latino had her pistol in hand and was making sure that she didn't have a round chambered. As she stood in the tent flap opening, Marcia caught sight of a ghost. It was an average blonde thing with pale, peachy skin, and though anywhere else it would look alive, out here the thing looked dead. Marcia could tell this woman was American, and like the young private from before, this was someone from the Marines. A veteran from the looks of things too, as no woman could pull off that tired, numb look without having seen a lot of shit. And yet here she was as a Corporal while an obviously green Lieutenant looked on. It was almost humorous. Corporal? Marcia spoke to the blonde as she lowered her weapon into its holster. Corporal, she tried again, how are you holding up?
Thread: Warfighter 2000: World War III RP IC Thread

Perry watched as the French colonel, a Norwegian sergeant and another Marine left the command post soon after the radio announcement, followed by other staff going about their jobs. She noted that there was no message on the radio other than to establish the French officer as the new CO. No orders, no evaluation on the situation. The corporal knew the men would soon be asking questions because she was asking them to herself already. Things were actually worse than they looked, and would not improve if command was not more decisive. But it was not her job to second-guess or play backseater to the officers. And honestly, maybe some uncertainty would help a little. Get people back on their feet instead of their asses. The sector had been too calm and people had gotten too sloppy. A little bit of implied danger might be just the thing to get them rolling. Speaking of which, Perry saw a US lieutenant with a pistol out. A latino woman, 101st Airborne. Perry had seen her around before, but the MARSOC people mostly kept to themselves. Made sense, seeing how they were among the last competent people left around. They went out on patrol, checked sectors, sent reports, and since they were obviously doing their job and didnt abuse logistics, the officers allowed them to do as they please, assuming they were being professional. And that was true, for the most part. It did not occur to her that they might be about to get new, far more dangerous work to do until the lieutenant called out to her. Saluting the officer right here in the frontline would have been the stupidest thing to do. Instead, the woman straightened her posture into what passed rather convincingly as a sitting at attention position. The corporal listened to the lieutenant, noting the name on her tag. Cervantes? Wasnt that the name of a famous Spanish writer? Her Spanish lessons back in high school were very far now. Im doing fine, lieutenant. Thank you for asking. Perry answered with her Southern accent and slow enunciation, which made her sound like she had to put effort into speaking correctly, but was actually a way to buy herself time to think. She nodded respectfully as well, not noticing the cool stare her blue eyes directed at the officer. It was the kind of stare that the quiet Marines had. Not the ones that screamed Semper Fi at the top of their voices, but those who whispered it to themselves before doing something very violent to someone. That, unfortunately, was a look Perry had had no means to get rid of for some time now. What about you, if I may ask?
Thread: Warfighter 2000: World War III RP IC Thread

Woman to woman, Marcia would have loved to sit down and spill her guts to Corporal Perry. At times she wanted nothing more than to talk about inconsequential things as she sat back and relaxed, but with the way the world was now, such things couldn't come to pass. On the bright side, this meant that the quiet moments spent talking about friends and family back home weren't just cliche, tell-tale signs that someone was about to kick the bucket. Now they were bonding material and messages of hope. Marcia hesitated with her answer, as if choosing the right words, before finally speaking. I'm doing alright, Marcia lied. In truth, Marcia was worried, and it showed in how she stood as if she was expecting a mortar to come crashing down on her at any second. From the looks of things, our defensive line is set and the men are loaded for bear. It's only a matter of when and where the enemy decides to hit us, or if they bother in the first place. The Latino came closer and got down on her haunches in a squatting position so she could speak to Perry in her personalized trench. Her brown eyes flicked over to the sandbags and supports, then to jury-rigged dummy machinegun in that flimsy dugout. From a distance, the foxhole looked impressive enough to be targeted by indirect fire, but from up close, Marcia figured it was more of a grave with a broken gun as its motif. Having dug a few trenches and foxholes herself in basic, Marcia had a rough idea of what Perry was doing and allowed a smile to form on her lips. She nodded, hummed in thought and then turned back to the Corporal. Nice work, especially with that plate.
Thread: Warfighter 2000: World War III RP IC Thread

Perry nodded at the lieutenants response, and her obvious attempt to steer the conversation in a different direction. Or perhaps she simply had better things to do than engage in self-pity and did worry about the state of the defenses. These were... well, they were in much the same state they had been for several days now. There was only so much earth you could dig and broken rubble to move around before you came to the conclusion that at some point you were just playing with Legos at a scale most children wished they could play at. There had been talk of extending the trenches back, but there were already two lines behind the first one. Anything that got through them would not be stopped by a fourth line, and if the commies had anything like that, they would have used it already. The Marine noted the way the paratrooper surveyed Perrys little DIY work on that section of the trench. As the officer did that, Perry dusted her hands off on her knees, washed them off with a little water from her canteen, dried them off on her pants, and put on her combat gloves. It was her equivalent of a martial artists meditation routine. It calmed her down and prepared her for combat, but she did it for rather simple and non-intellectual reason her combat gloves were too precious to get torn apart digging trenches. She still had a spare pair, but you just never knew. And the message from command seemed to imply that having gloves or anything else in good condition was soon going to be a luxury. Perry received the compliment on her dugout with a tired smile. It was not that long ago that she received compliments for her clothes or her prettiness, back in the US. For some time now, it had all been about marksmanship scores, grenade throwing, night navigation and the more day-to-day stuff like stitching uniforms back together and knowing a couple civvies with useful stuff to send to the frontline in exchange for food or medicine. The blonde caught herself right at the moment when she knew she would slip into homesickness, and rebounded with a quick nod at the latino officer. Those reds must be pretty goddamn bored. Might as well give them something to look at. Something unimportant, but thats what we know. Speaking of which... Perry hesitated before asking, but... her curiousity was justified, the way she saw it. Whats the plan now, el-tee? We going to hold position? Perrys question went one way, but her hopes were running in the opposite direction. And the tense, almost needy stare she directed at Cervantes was not that difficult to pick up on.