Tequila - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
How funny huh?
Reckless fun in the jungle
It's a fine day beneath the subtropical sun, deep within the scorching heart of a treacherous jungle. A team of elite operatives—Tequila, Marco, Tarma, Eri, Ralf, and Nadia—have been sent to the southern part of the Amazon Rainforest by the Regular Army for a perilous mission. Their objective is to infiltrate and dismantle a ruthless guerrilla group suspected of human trafficking, illicit arms dealing, and narcotics smuggling. Intel suggests a possible alliance with the notorious Ptolemaic Army, a terrorist cult infamous for its brutality and corrupting influence. With precision and skill, Marco and his team must track down the guerrilla group, gather crucial intel on a possible alliance with the Ptolemaic Army, and execute a swift and decisive takedown to shatter the organisation's grip on the region.
The hypervigilant Tequila leads the group with awe-inspiring courage, his grenade launcher at the ready. Marco follows closely behind, his usual stoic demeanour masking a deep longing to return to the Sparrowhawk Operations Base and reunite with Perifa, whose dramatic flair he misses dearly. Eri, who had previously instructed her fellow Ptolemaic Army deserters to scout for a secret base and any suspicious activity, stands ready with her trusty explosives at hand.
Ralf is pumped for action, his senses heightened as he drinks in the jungle's symphony of natural sounds and feels the adrenaline coursing through his veins like liquid fire. Tarma walks alongside Marco, cracking jokes to ease the tension, but Eri and Tequila remain unamused, finding his humour unprofessional. Meanwhile, his queerplatonic partner, Marco, struggles to maintain a straight face, stifling a couple of laughs in an effort to stay focused. Ralf, however, revels in Tarma's lightheartedness, while Nadia giggles, lost in romantic thoughts of her best friend, Trevor.
Before they can proceed further, Marco suggests splitting up, a plan that Tequila endorses. Marco and Eri meticulously outline the stealth mission, assigning Ralf, Tarma, and Nadia to reconnaissance duty, tasked with identifying potential enemies and hostages. Meanwhile, Marco, Eri, and Tequila will continue searching for the guerrilla group's headquarters. After a brief strategy session, the group divides: Ralf, Tarma, and Nadia head out separately from Tequila, Marco, and Eri.
As they stealthily tread through the jungle, Nadia's focus wanes, and she starts to feel restless, yearning for something more than this mission. Just in time, Ralf spots a secluded hideout, a fallen tree shrouded in dense greenery, where they can lay low for a couple of minutes. The group swiftly settles in, remaining vigilant and on high alert. Ralf, Tarma, and Nadia anxiously await any news from Marco's group via walkie-talkie, hoping to pinpoint the elusive guerrilla group's current location. Ralf and Tarma remain vigilant, scanning their surroundings for potential threats and innocent bystanders, while Nadia's gaze wanders, her attention drawn to the lush jungle foliage and beautiful birds.
As Nadia leans against the tree trunk, she pulls out a blue bubblegum ball from her square-shaped pouch adorned with kitty ears. She pops it into her mouth, chewing and savouring the sweet blueberry flavour. As her gaze continues to wander through the gorgeous sights of the Amazon Rainforest, she spots some enticing swinging vines and her lips curl into a playful smile. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she elbows Tarma…
Tarma jerks slightly, caught off guard by Nadia's elbow to his right arm. He swiftly turns to face her, his head tilted in curiosity, and asks, "Huh? What's up, Nadia?"
She nods towards the hanging vines, her grin growing bigger, and blows an impressive bubble before it pops. Tarma quietly looks at them, adjusting his red-tinted sunglasses and squinting slightly.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Nadia asks, spitting out her chewed-up blueberry bubblegum, as Tarma's smirk forms, accompanied by a low, amused chuckle.
“I so do,” he replies, flashing a charming smirk, his response coming easily and without hesitation.
He watches as Nadia stands up and joyously skips over to the vines, catching Ralf's attention. Ralf raises an eyebrow at Tarma, but before he can say a word, Tarma swiftly stands up, stretches briefly, and confidently strides over to Nadia. As Ralf's gaze follows Tarma to the hanging vines, he grasps the hint and decides to join in on the fun.
Meanwhile, Marco, Eri, and Tequila are cautiously navigating the jungle, vigilant for any signs of the guerrilla group's members. They're also awaiting crucial intel from Ptolemaic Army deserters regarding the location of the group's headquarters, where their illicit operations are allegedly taking place. To pass the time, Tequila decides to strike up a conversation to break the monotony of the deafening silence. He has a strong hunch that Marco will remain his usual taciturn self, but he's certain that Eri will definitely respond.
“I hope these guys aren't affiliated with those cultish dumbasses from the Serapion Fellowship,” Tequila says, his voice dripping with disdain, his face twisted in a mix of anger and revulsion as he recalls his past run-in with the group.
“You mean the Ptolemaic Army?” Eri asks, her voice laced with disdain, accompanied by a tired scoff. “The Serapion Fellowship was decimated when the Ikari Warriors tore through them.”
“The Ikari Warriors didn't finish the job,” Tequila interjects gruffly, his tone respectful yet firm, catching Eri off guard. “My old comrades and I had to clean up the remnants. I'm telling ya, Ptolemaios and his devotees are like blind, stubborn leeches… Those motherfuckers never know when to quit!”
He pauses, fishing out a cigar from his right cargo pants pocket and lighting it with his metallic blue-green lighter. As he takes a slow drag, he eyes Eri with a hint of uncertainty, "I assume you haven't heard about the Arms Deal Barrage?"
Eri exhales a heavy sigh, her gaze dropping to the jungle soil as she falls into a silent reverie, feeling a tad foolish for nearly overlooking a seemingly insignificant event in the Regular Army’s history.
“Yup! Your Lothario son spilled all the details to me,” she replies, her voice involuntarily tinged with a chill as she crosses her arms, oblivious to the fact that Gimlet has kept a dark secret regarding the Regular Army hidden from her.
“Really?” he says gruffly, his right eyebrow shooting up in skepticism, amused by the thought of Gimlet being her informant on this particular matter.
Marco's attention is suddenly diverted by the distant shouts of thrilled excitement from a girl and a man, who enthusiastically belts out Tarzan's iconic jungle call, echoing through the air. He swiftly interrupts the conversation between Eri and Tequila, clearing his throat awkwardly, his interest piqued by something in the commotion.
“Uhhhmm… Guys, I think we have a problem,” Marco says, his voice low and serious, nodding discreetly towards the source of his concern.
“Tsk! What is—” Eri starts to say, her voice tinged with annoyance, but her words die on her lips as her jaw drops in stunned astonishment at the scene unfolding before her.
“What the fuck is happening?” Tequila exclaims, his voice laced with confusion and incredulity as he glares upward at the reckless spectacle above him, his eyes widening in shock.
Marco, Eri, and Tequila watch in stupefied awe as Nadia, Ralf, and Tarma swing from vine to vine with reckless abandon, their movements eerily reminiscent of carefree, playful monkeys. It's as if the entire jungle has become their personal playground, and they're oblivious to the fact that their unprofessional antics might jeopardise their mission. Tequila can only hope that the three impulsive adventurers don't alert any nearby enemies to their presence. Eri's right eye twitches with suppressed rage, clearly unimpressed by their foolishness. Marco lets out a deep, exasperated sigh, smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand and shaking his head in dismay, his gaze cast downward.
“Weeeeeeeeee! This is so much fun!” Nadia squeals, her voice bursting with exuberant joy.
"You're absolutely right, gurl! This shit is amazing!" Ralf exclaims, feeling nostalgic for the good times he had with Clark on mercenary missions in the jungle.
Tarma unleashes a thunderous Tarzan yell, utterly shameless and fearless about attracting the attention of the guerrilla group members. However, his triumphant cry is abruptly cut short when he accidentally swallows a fast-moving insect, causing him to cough violently. He stops swinging from vine to vine and lands on a branch of a kapok tree, gasping for breath and reaching for his water canteen in his citron load-bearing backpack. Nadia can't help but burst out laughing at the unexpected turn of events. Meanwhile, Ralf stops by to check on Tarma, concern etched on his face.
"You okay, man?" Ralf asks, gently patting Tarma on the back with a hint of worry in his voice.
Tarma coughs some more, takes a long swig from his canteen, and clears his throat before calmly responding, "It could've been worse..."
Tarma's gaze wanders to Nadia, who’s still swinging with carefree abandon, then drops to Marco, Eri, and Tequila, clustered beneath the kapok tree's sprawling canopy, far below where he and Ralf stand. He swallows hard, the sound of his gulp audibly echoing through the air. Ralf's gaze follows, his expression contorting into an uneasy frown as his sunburst amber-sage eyes slowly lock onto Tarma.
“Maybe we should get back on track…” he suggests, wincing at the prospect of facing Eri's icy stare and scornful disapproval.
The thought of facing Clark's lecture at Sparrowhawk Operations Base makes him wince even more, especially if Eri shares the story of their impulsive escapade. Tarma silently nods and begins to carefully descend the kapok tree, using the vines for support. Ralf closely follows, keeping a watchful eye on Nadia as she continues to swing from vine to vine without a single care in the world. Her swift movements radiate pure joy, accompanied by thrilled shouts, squeals of excitement, and punctuated by a hilarious, off-key Tarzan jungle call.
After a few minutes of climbing down, Tarma and Ralf approach Marco, Eri, and Tequila, their heads hanging low in palpable shame. Marco's disapproving gaze settles on Tarma, who shifts uncomfortably, his hand drifting up to rub his upper arm in a telling sign of nervous humiliation. However, Marco's expression soon softens, his frustration easing as he realises he can't stay angrily disappointed at Tarma forever. Eri is furious with the two, her anger evident in a harsh puff of breath and her crossed arms, which seem to radiate a menacing aura. She's prepared to unleash a scathing tirade, especially once she discovers who sparked this entire debacle. Tequila appears relieved that they didn't attract unwanted attention, but his expression betrays frustration with their decision to slack off.
Luckily, Nadia soon returns from her vine-swinging escapade. However, her excitement is short-lived, a fragile vine snaps beneath her weight, sending her plummeting downwards. She lets out a blood-curdling scream, but Ralf swiftly swoops in, catching her small body in his arms. As he holds her, Nadia's trembling subsides, and she gradually calms down from the fear and exhilaration of her fall. Once she's composed, Ralf carefully sets her down on her feet, offering a reassuring pat on the back as she takes a deep, prolonged breath to calm her nerves. Now, Nadia braces herself for a scathing lecture from Eri, likely amplified by Tequila's disapproval. She fidgets with her thumbs, gazing up at the sky with an unconvincing attempt at feigning innocence.
Eri's gaze sweeps across the group, her eyes blazing with a fierce intensity as she growls, "Which one of you thought it was a fucking brilliant idea to act like reckless retards in a situation like this?"
Nadia swiftly deflects the blame, her finger pointing accusingly at Tarma as she twirls her raspberry red locks with her free hand.
"Tarms is the one who started it," she claims, her tone dripping with false nonchalance.
However, Tarma's and Ralf's unflinching, deadpan gazes effectively debunk Nadia's attempt at innocence, their silent incredulity speaking volumes. Eri's hand flashes up, poised to deliver a sharp slap to Nadia's face, but Marco swiftly intervenes, firmly grasping her wrist to prevent the blow. He wisely knows that escalating the tension will only make the volatile situation worse.
Marco's expression turns stoically resolute, his brow furrowing as he sternly suggests, "Let's call a truce for now and concentrate on our mission."
Eri lets out an irritated snarl, ripping her wrist from Marco's grasp and rubbing it lightly. She turns to Tequila, seeking validation, and receives a discreet, affirming nod, signalling his agreement with Marco's suggestion. Whirling around, Eri confronts Tarma, Ralf, and Nadia with a twisted face, mocking them with a scornful snort. Deciding to lecture them later, she spins on her heel and strides away, refocusing on their mission to track down the guerrilla group's base deep in the Amazon Rainforest, hoping it's within a reachable distance. Tequila exhales a tense sigh, hastening to catch up with Eri, while Ralf follows quietly, ready to take on the guerrilla forces. Nadia falls into step behind them, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face, pouting silently like a sulky child.
Tarma pulls out a cigarette from his saffron-yellow vest, and Marco retrieves a cigar from his left khaki-green army cargo pants pocket, seeking to calm his frazzled nerves. As he approaches his queerplatonic friend, Marco extracts a gilded lighter from his crimson vest pocket and kindly lights both his cigar and Tarma's cigarette.
"Nadia... She never fails to amaze me with the creative ways she manages to stir up bullshit," Marco mutters, shaking his head in amused disapproval.
Tarma's expression turns mischievous as he sarcastically remarks, "I have to admit, she's quite the firecracker."
As he speaks, Tarma accompanies his words with a soft, affectionate squeeze of Marco's right hand, eliciting a gentle smile. Marco basks in the warm, carefree presence of his best friend and recent queerplatonic partner, enjoying Tarma’s breezy attitude on life. He could linger in this cozy moment forever, but he's keenly aware that pressing matters demand their attention.
After a few moments of adoring eye contact, Marco breaks the comfortable silence with a soft clearing of his throat, and suggests, "Shall we get going?"
Tarma exhales a stream of cigarette smoke and responds with a subtle nod, then quickly falls into step beside Marco as they catch up to Eri, Ralf, and Tequila, who are already some distance ahead. The team is eager to complete their mission, apprehend the criminals, and return to the Sparrowhawk Operations Base in one piece. Marco looks forward to reuniting with his calico cat, Perifa, and enjoying some snuggle time. Tarma can't wait to get back to restoring Clark's custom-built Velocette MAC motorcycle after this mission is complete.
Nadia is eager to spend quality time with Trevor and challenge him to another round of Dance Dance Revolution. Nadia is also looking forward to indulging in some of Fio's delectable baked goods. Tequila hopes that Red Eye is keeping Gimlet in line, ensuring he doesn't succumb to his typical laziness and womanising ways. Tequila and Eri can't wait to unwind with a well-deserved drink and good company back at the Sparrowhawk Operations Base, while Ralf hopes that Clark is doing well in his absence.
Reckless fun in the jungle
It's a fine day beneath the subtropical sun, deep within the scorching heart of a treacherous jungle. A team of elite operatives—Tequila, Marco, Tarma, Eri, Ralf, and Nadia—have been sent to the southern part of the Amazon Rainforest by the Regular Army for a perilous mission. Their objective is to infiltrate and dismantle a ruthless guerrilla group suspected of human trafficking, illicit arms dealing, and narcotics smuggling. Intel suggests a possible alliance with the notorious Ptolemaic Army, a terrorist cult infamous for its brutality and corrupting influence. With precision and skill, Marco and his team must track down the guerrilla group, gather crucial intel on a possible alliance with the Ptolemaic Army, and execute a swift and decisive takedown to shatter the organisation's grip on the region.
The hypervigilant Tequila leads the group with awe-inspiring courage, his grenade launcher at the ready. Marco follows closely behind, his usual stoic demeanour masking a deep longing to return to the Sparrowhawk Operations Base and reunite with Perifa, whose dramatic flair he misses dearly. Eri, who had previously instructed her fellow Ptolemaic Army deserters to scout for a secret base and any suspicious activity, stands ready with her trusty explosives at hand.
Ralf is pumped for action, his senses heightened as he drinks in the jungle's symphony of natural sounds and feels the adrenaline coursing through his veins like liquid fire. Tarma walks alongside Marco, cracking jokes to ease the tension, but Eri and Tequila remain unamused, finding his humour unprofessional. Meanwhile, his queerplatonic partner, Marco, struggles to maintain a straight face, stifling a couple of laughs in an effort to stay focused. Ralf, however, revels in Tarma's lightheartedness, while Nadia giggles, lost in romantic thoughts of her best friend, Trevor.
Before they can proceed further, Marco suggests splitting up, a plan that Tequila endorses. Marco and Eri meticulously outline the stealth mission, assigning Ralf, Tarma, and Nadia to reconnaissance duty, tasked with identifying potential enemies and hostages. Meanwhile, Marco, Eri, and Tequila will continue searching for the guerrilla group's headquarters. After a brief strategy session, the group divides: Ralf, Tarma, and Nadia head out separately from Tequila, Marco, and Eri.
As they stealthily tread through the jungle, Nadia's focus wanes, and she starts to feel restless, yearning for something more than this mission. Just in time, Ralf spots a secluded hideout, a fallen tree shrouded in dense greenery, where they can lay low for a couple of minutes. The group swiftly settles in, remaining vigilant and on high alert. Ralf, Tarma, and Nadia anxiously await any news from Marco's group via walkie-talkie, hoping to pinpoint the elusive guerrilla group's current location. Ralf and Tarma remain vigilant, scanning their surroundings for potential threats and innocent bystanders, while Nadia's gaze wanders, her attention drawn to the lush jungle foliage and beautiful birds.
As Nadia leans against the tree trunk, she pulls out a blue bubblegum ball from her square-shaped pouch adorned with kitty ears. She pops it into her mouth, chewing and savouring the sweet blueberry flavour. As her gaze continues to wander through the gorgeous sights of the Amazon Rainforest, she spots some enticing swinging vines and her lips curl into a playful smile. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she elbows Tarma…
Tarma jerks slightly, caught off guard by Nadia's elbow to his right arm. He swiftly turns to face her, his head tilted in curiosity, and asks, "Huh? What's up, Nadia?"
She nods towards the hanging vines, her grin growing bigger, and blows an impressive bubble before it pops. Tarma quietly looks at them, adjusting his red-tinted sunglasses and squinting slightly.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Nadia asks, spitting out her chewed-up blueberry bubblegum, as Tarma's smirk forms, accompanied by a low, amused chuckle.
“I so do,” he replies, flashing a charming smirk, his response coming easily and without hesitation.
He watches as Nadia stands up and joyously skips over to the vines, catching Ralf's attention. Ralf raises an eyebrow at Tarma, but before he can say a word, Tarma swiftly stands up, stretches briefly, and confidently strides over to Nadia. As Ralf's gaze follows Tarma to the hanging vines, he grasps the hint and decides to join in on the fun.
Meanwhile, Marco, Eri, and Tequila are cautiously navigating the jungle, vigilant for any signs of the guerrilla group's members. They're also awaiting crucial intel from Ptolemaic Army deserters regarding the location of the group's headquarters, where their illicit operations are allegedly taking place. To pass the time, Tequila decides to strike up a conversation to break the monotony of the deafening silence. He has a strong hunch that Marco will remain his usual taciturn self, but he's certain that Eri will definitely respond.
“I hope these guys aren't affiliated with those cultish dumbasses from the Serapion Fellowship,” Tequila says, his voice dripping with disdain, his face twisted in a mix of anger and revulsion as he recalls his past run-in with the group.
“You mean the Ptolemaic Army?” Eri asks, her voice laced with disdain, accompanied by a tired scoff. “The Serapion Fellowship was decimated when the Ikari Warriors tore through them.”
“The Ikari Warriors didn't finish the job,” Tequila interjects gruffly, his tone respectful yet firm, catching Eri off guard. “My old comrades and I had to clean up the remnants. I'm telling ya, Ptolemaios and his devotees are like blind, stubborn leeches… Those motherfuckers never know when to quit!”
He pauses, fishing out a cigar from his right cargo pants pocket and lighting it with his metallic blue-green lighter. As he takes a slow drag, he eyes Eri with a hint of uncertainty, "I assume you haven't heard about the Arms Deal Barrage?"
Eri exhales a heavy sigh, her gaze dropping to the jungle soil as she falls into a silent reverie, feeling a tad foolish for nearly overlooking a seemingly insignificant event in the Regular Army’s history.
“Yup! Your Lothario son spilled all the details to me,” she replies, her voice involuntarily tinged with a chill as she crosses her arms, oblivious to the fact that Gimlet has kept a dark secret regarding the Regular Army hidden from her.
“Really?” he says gruffly, his right eyebrow shooting up in skepticism, amused by the thought of Gimlet being her informant on this particular matter.
Marco's attention is suddenly diverted by the distant shouts of thrilled excitement from a girl and a man, who enthusiastically belts out Tarzan's iconic jungle call, echoing through the air. He swiftly interrupts the conversation between Eri and Tequila, clearing his throat awkwardly, his interest piqued by something in the commotion.
“Uhhhmm… Guys, I think we have a problem,” Marco says, his voice low and serious, nodding discreetly towards the source of his concern.
“Tsk! What is—” Eri starts to say, her voice tinged with annoyance, but her words die on her lips as her jaw drops in stunned astonishment at the scene unfolding before her.
“What the fuck is happening?” Tequila exclaims, his voice laced with confusion and incredulity as he glares upward at the reckless spectacle above him, his eyes widening in shock.
Marco, Eri, and Tequila watch in stupefied awe as Nadia, Ralf, and Tarma swing from vine to vine with reckless abandon, their movements eerily reminiscent of carefree, playful monkeys. It's as if the entire jungle has become their personal playground, and they're oblivious to the fact that their unprofessional antics might jeopardise their mission. Tequila can only hope that the three impulsive adventurers don't alert any nearby enemies to their presence. Eri's right eye twitches with suppressed rage, clearly unimpressed by their foolishness. Marco lets out a deep, exasperated sigh, smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand and shaking his head in dismay, his gaze cast downward.
“Weeeeeeeeee! This is so much fun!” Nadia squeals, her voice bursting with exuberant joy.
"You're absolutely right, gurl! This shit is amazing!" Ralf exclaims, feeling nostalgic for the good times he had with Clark on mercenary missions in the jungle.
Tarma unleashes a thunderous Tarzan yell, utterly shameless and fearless about attracting the attention of the guerrilla group members. However, his triumphant cry is abruptly cut short when he accidentally swallows a fast-moving insect, causing him to cough violently. He stops swinging from vine to vine and lands on a branch of a kapok tree, gasping for breath and reaching for his water canteen in his citron load-bearing backpack. Nadia can't help but burst out laughing at the unexpected turn of events. Meanwhile, Ralf stops by to check on Tarma, concern etched on his face.
"You okay, man?" Ralf asks, gently patting Tarma on the back with a hint of worry in his voice.
Tarma coughs some more, takes a long swig from his canteen, and clears his throat before calmly responding, "It could've been worse..."
Tarma's gaze wanders to Nadia, who’s still swinging with carefree abandon, then drops to Marco, Eri, and Tequila, clustered beneath the kapok tree's sprawling canopy, far below where he and Ralf stand. He swallows hard, the sound of his gulp audibly echoing through the air. Ralf's gaze follows, his expression contorting into an uneasy frown as his sunburst amber-sage eyes slowly lock onto Tarma.
“Maybe we should get back on track…” he suggests, wincing at the prospect of facing Eri's icy stare and scornful disapproval.
The thought of facing Clark's lecture at Sparrowhawk Operations Base makes him wince even more, especially if Eri shares the story of their impulsive escapade. Tarma silently nods and begins to carefully descend the kapok tree, using the vines for support. Ralf closely follows, keeping a watchful eye on Nadia as she continues to swing from vine to vine without a single care in the world. Her swift movements radiate pure joy, accompanied by thrilled shouts, squeals of excitement, and punctuated by a hilarious, off-key Tarzan jungle call.
After a few minutes of climbing down, Tarma and Ralf approach Marco, Eri, and Tequila, their heads hanging low in palpable shame. Marco's disapproving gaze settles on Tarma, who shifts uncomfortably, his hand drifting up to rub his upper arm in a telling sign of nervous humiliation. However, Marco's expression soon softens, his frustration easing as he realises he can't stay angrily disappointed at Tarma forever. Eri is furious with the two, her anger evident in a harsh puff of breath and her crossed arms, which seem to radiate a menacing aura. She's prepared to unleash a scathing tirade, especially once she discovers who sparked this entire debacle. Tequila appears relieved that they didn't attract unwanted attention, but his expression betrays frustration with their decision to slack off.
Luckily, Nadia soon returns from her vine-swinging escapade. However, her excitement is short-lived, a fragile vine snaps beneath her weight, sending her plummeting downwards. She lets out a blood-curdling scream, but Ralf swiftly swoops in, catching her small body in his arms. As he holds her, Nadia's trembling subsides, and she gradually calms down from the fear and exhilaration of her fall. Once she's composed, Ralf carefully sets her down on her feet, offering a reassuring pat on the back as she takes a deep, prolonged breath to calm her nerves. Now, Nadia braces herself for a scathing lecture from Eri, likely amplified by Tequila's disapproval. She fidgets with her thumbs, gazing up at the sky with an unconvincing attempt at feigning innocence.
Eri's gaze sweeps across the group, her eyes blazing with a fierce intensity as she growls, "Which one of you thought it was a fucking brilliant idea to act like reckless retards in a situation like this?"
Nadia swiftly deflects the blame, her finger pointing accusingly at Tarma as she twirls her raspberry red locks with her free hand.
"Tarms is the one who started it," she claims, her tone dripping with false nonchalance.
However, Tarma's and Ralf's unflinching, deadpan gazes effectively debunk Nadia's attempt at innocence, their silent incredulity speaking volumes. Eri's hand flashes up, poised to deliver a sharp slap to Nadia's face, but Marco swiftly intervenes, firmly grasping her wrist to prevent the blow. He wisely knows that escalating the tension will only make the volatile situation worse.
Marco's expression turns stoically resolute, his brow furrowing as he sternly suggests, "Let's call a truce for now and concentrate on our mission."
Eri lets out an irritated snarl, ripping her wrist from Marco's grasp and rubbing it lightly. She turns to Tequila, seeking validation, and receives a discreet, affirming nod, signalling his agreement with Marco's suggestion. Whirling around, Eri confronts Tarma, Ralf, and Nadia with a twisted face, mocking them with a scornful snort. Deciding to lecture them later, she spins on her heel and strides away, refocusing on their mission to track down the guerrilla group's base deep in the Amazon Rainforest, hoping it's within a reachable distance. Tequila exhales a tense sigh, hastening to catch up with Eri, while Ralf follows quietly, ready to take on the guerrilla forces. Nadia falls into step behind them, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face, pouting silently like a sulky child.
Tarma pulls out a cigarette from his saffron-yellow vest, and Marco retrieves a cigar from his left khaki-green army cargo pants pocket, seeking to calm his frazzled nerves. As he approaches his queerplatonic friend, Marco extracts a gilded lighter from his crimson vest pocket and kindly lights both his cigar and Tarma's cigarette.
"Nadia... She never fails to amaze me with the creative ways she manages to stir up bullshit," Marco mutters, shaking his head in amused disapproval.
Tarma's expression turns mischievous as he sarcastically remarks, "I have to admit, she's quite the firecracker."
As he speaks, Tarma accompanies his words with a soft, affectionate squeeze of Marco's right hand, eliciting a gentle smile. Marco basks in the warm, carefree presence of his best friend and recent queerplatonic partner, enjoying Tarma’s breezy attitude on life. He could linger in this cozy moment forever, but he's keenly aware that pressing matters demand their attention.
After a few moments of adoring eye contact, Marco breaks the comfortable silence with a soft clearing of his throat, and suggests, "Shall we get going?"
Tarma exhales a stream of cigarette smoke and responds with a subtle nod, then quickly falls into step beside Marco as they catch up to Eri, Ralf, and Tequila, who are already some distance ahead. The team is eager to complete their mission, apprehend the criminals, and return to the Sparrowhawk Operations Base in one piece. Marco looks forward to reuniting with his calico cat, Perifa, and enjoying some snuggle time. Tarma can't wait to get back to restoring Clark's custom-built Velocette MAC motorcycle after this mission is complete.
Nadia is eager to spend quality time with Trevor and challenge him to another round of Dance Dance Revolution. Nadia is also looking forward to indulging in some of Fio's delectable baked goods. Tequila hopes that Red Eye is keeping Gimlet in line, ensuring he doesn't succumb to his typical laziness and womanising ways. Tequila and Eri can't wait to unwind with a well-deserved drink and good company back at the Sparrowhawk Operations Base, while Ralf hopes that Clark is doing well in his absence.
I decided to do a lil' height comparison chart between most of the cast for the Iron Eclipse AU. I sadly wasn't able to include Red Eye because of the 10 character limit on hikaku sitatter...
Updated: September 17, 2024
Reworked Group #3: Peregrine Falcons Squad
Overview
Shortly after the establishment of the Regular Army, the Joint Military Police Headquarters assisted the Regular Army in dismantling a transnational drug trafficking organisation led by a corrupt North American politician. Recognizing the benefits of a strategic partnership, the Chief of the Regular Army and the Joint Military Police Headquarters formed an agreement to establish an elite task force. This specialised unit would handle high-risk situations requiring indirect or covert intervention, beyond the scope of conventional military operations. The newly founded elite task force branch would be called the Peregrine Falcons Squad and became the Regular Army's first special forces unit.
As part of their affiliation with the Joint Military Police Headquarters, they serve as highly trained soldiers supporting global law enforcement. They assist police officers from various countries with transnational criminal issues and global security threats. They also aid in preventing global terrorist threats and combating warfare waged by highly dangerous groups.
Insignia
It features a two-engrailed shield outlined in gold, divided into three columns: saffron-yellow on the right side, emerald green in the centre, and crimson on the left side. The initials "P.F." are rendered in dark silver, separated by a gold bullet, and surmounted by a downward-facing sword with a ruddy blue hilt, positioned behind the shield. A circular wreath of laurel leaves encircles the shield, evoking the image of the sun rising over the horizon. Two stylized peregrine falcons with ruddy blue eyes stand guard on either side of the shield, adopting a heraldic pose.
P.F. Squad Base
The Joint Military Police Headquarters is situated adjacent to the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. base, nestled deep within a dense forest in Northern Russia. It’s a high-security, hexagonal-shaped facility equipped with an advanced camouflage system that can adapt and change its exterior appearance to blend seamlessly with its surroundings, mimicking rocky, snowy, and greenery hues. he compound is reinforced with multiple surveillance posts, each manned by expertly trained snipers. Additionally, it features security cameras integrated with non-lethal deterrents and advanced perimeter defence systems, equipped with intrusion detection and rapid response capabilities. Within the compound lies the following facilities:
A Defence Department that serves as a centralised hub for strategic planning, operational command, and tactical control.
A well-maintained barracks for military personnel, providing a safe and functional living environment.
A Combat Academy, led by Sophia Greenville, featuring advanced combat training centre, a simulated warfare environment, a tactical operations centre, a physical conditioning gym, and a medical and recovery wing.
A secure storage facility for firearms, ammunition, and tactical gear with strict access control and inventory management.
A maintenance and storage facility for military vehicles, ensuring readiness and operational capability.
A secure conference facility for senior leaders to conduct high-level briefings, financial planning, and strategic sessions.
A restricted briefing area for P.F. Squad commanders and elite operatives to plan missions, share intelligence, and coordinate tactical operations.
A self-sustaining military city, fully equipped and trained to respond to emerging threats with rapid deployment capability.
Marco’s Base
It's worth noting that the P.F. Squad operates multiple bases worldwide, all of which are named after birds of prey, such as Condor Operations Base, Hierofalcon Operations Base, or Goshawk Operations Base.
Owned by the P.F. Squad, the Sparrowhawk Operations Base, hidden in a forested mountain in an unoccupied area of Britain, serves as the residence for Marco, Eri and her team of rebel Ptolemaic troops, Tarma, Fio, Trevor, Nadia, Ralf, Clark, Tequila, Gimlet, and Red Eye. It’s camouflaged to blend seamlessly into its surroundings, serving as the nerve centre for their operations. They have a nearby landing pad, camouflaged by a thicket of trees, allowing aircraft to land undetected. The base features multiple facilities:
A large, circular room equipped with eighteen business chairs, a holographic display table, a large cork board for investigative purposes, and multiple maps for various missions, serving as a central hub for tactical planning and military briefings.
A private workspace for Marco and the others, which is equipped with a mini fridge, work computers, twenty file cabinets, sixteen rosewood desks, secure communication devices, a business phone to call friends, family, and other military personnel, and a vast library of military strategies and historical texts.
A heavily fortified room storing an arsenal of firearms, ammunition, and tactical explosives.
A well-stocked storage room containing uniforms and tactical gear.
A laundry room equipped with two washing machines and two dryers where they can wash and dry their dirty clothing.
A spacious dormitory features numerous comfortable beds and a secure safe for storing the soldiers' phones and wallets, each labelled with its owner's name. In a cozy nook perfectly suited for Perifa, Sparky, and Mr. Kibleton, their feline-friendly setup awaits, complete with a cat tower, three plush beds, a variety of toys, three food bowls, and a filtered water dish.
Three clean and well-maintained bathrooms with showers, toilets, and sinks.
A secure, climate-controlled garage houses their primary vehicle, the SV-001, maintenance equipment, a couple of motorcycles, and a small oakwood table for Tarma’s boombox and assortment of alternative and metal rock tapes.
A kitchen equipped with a dishwasher, a sink, a marble top counter, a cabinet full of plates and cups, and a built-in breakfast bar and eight stools for quick meals and planning sessions. The kitchen features a refrigerator with a freezer, a secure, locked pantry, a discreetly hidden coffee maker, and modern, high-efficiency appliances with advanced features like automated meal prep and cooking A large, sturdy table made of smooth oak wood serves as a central hub for meal planning, tactical discussions, and mission briefings. Additionally, the kitchen includes hidden compartments and drawers for storing snacks and energy bars.
A cozy recreational space with a plush couch, coffee table, wall-mounted wide-screen television, cabinet full of board games, dartboard, and nostalgic decor featuring posters of 80s action movies and 90s anime. For entertainment and stress relief, the room is also equipped with four classic arcade machines (CarnEvil, Shinobi, Contra: Hard Corps, and Dance Dance Revolution).
Extra Information
Members of the P.F. Squad are commonly known by the monikers "Peregriners" or "Falconists", distinguishing themselves from other Regular Army soldiers and special forces units.
Despite being an elite task force, Peregriners, regardless of gender, receive only half the salary of an average police officer. Furthermore, underperforming Peregriners face additional financial strain, as they often experience delayed salary payments, waiting anywhere from two to four weeks to receive their compensation.
The P.F. Squad is frequently joined by the Intelligence Agency's special forces unit, S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., in situations that the Regular Army requires them to handle.
They possess a remote archipelago in the South Pacific, which serves as the final training ground for P.F. Squad cadets. This culminating mission challenges cadets to survive in a hostile environment with scarce resources and limited weaponry, fostering reliance on teamwork, independence, and adaptability. In accordance with a mutual agreement, the P.F. Squad has granted the Regular Army permission to utilise the remote archipelago as a training ground for cadets interested in joining the special forces as regular soldiers.
The handguns carried by Peregriners are the Murder .50AE, which is modelled after the Colt M1911A1 pistol. It’s a semi-automatic pistol that fires .50 calibre Action Express rounds. The magazine capacity is seven rounds with an additional round able to be stored in the chamber.
Updated: October 15, 2024
Reworked Character #9: Tequila
POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death, torture, suicide, child abuse, cannibalism, crime, alcoholism, and divorce.
Real name: Sermeg Bracquemond-Kagamihara (he legally changed his name to Sosuke N. Kanikoja)
Alias: Maestro of a Thousand Skirmishes
Nickname: Tequila
Occupation: Lieutenant General of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., Brigadier General of the Regular Army, Army Chief of Staff for the Rebel Army (formerly), and mercenary for the Theophylaktos Union (formerly)
Retirement plans: Open a florist shop, become a philanthropist dedicated to supporting child welfare and war veterans, and establish a company that designs and manufactures affordable, electric vehicles
Special skills: Coordinating covert missions, and training programs for new recruits, proficiency in tactical planning and the operation of heavy machinery, mastery of disguise, and rescuing hostages
Esper abilities: His body possesses a unique adaptive ability, granting him resistance to extreme temperatures, toxins, and other hazards. In response to environmental stressors, his organs automatically secrete a protective, opalescent slime that coats them. This slime serves as a barrier, preventing harmful microorganisms from entering his body and shielding him from infections and diseases. It also repels toxic substances and deadly gases, safeguarding his organs from damage. Furthermore, the slime produces purplish-black cells that play a crucial role in his thermal resistance, helping to regulate his body temperature and enabling him to withstand extreme heat or cold temperatures
Moreover, he's able to intentionally shed his skin, peeling it off like a removable garment. Following its removal, his skin rapidly regenerates through a self-materialising process, restoring his epidermal layer. This process allows him to remove harmful organisms that may have attached to or burrowed into his skin. Shedding contaminated skin also enables him to regenerate healthy tissue and develop enhanced immunity and resistance to biological hazards, including toxins, bacteria, and other harmful substances.
By leveraging his photographic memory and manipulating his genetic code and organic mass, he can shapeshift into any form he has visually memorised. He can also teleport short distances, allowing him to suddenly disappear and reappear in locations with which he has partial or full familiarity. He boasts flexibility rivalling that of an octopus due to his extreme hypermobility, and agility nearly identical to that of a cheetah. Furthermore, his senses are incredibly acute, featuring eyesight as keen as an eagle's, hearing as sensitive as a bat's, a sense of smell as discerning as an elephant's, and touch sensitivity as refined as a star-nosed mole's. When sensing the presence of danger or untrustworthy individuals within his range of sight and hearing, his mind instantly kicks into fight or flight mode, impairing his impulsivity and heightening his hypervigilance. This triggers a sudden surge of adrenaline, preparing his body to either confront the threat or flee to safety.
He can clearly read emotions and thoughts by proximity to an individual's aura within a 6 ft (182.88 cm) boundary. Additionally, he possesses psychometry, granting him access to accurate knowledge of an object's or person's history through physical contact, which triggers brief yet remarkably vivid visions. He can sense celestial events, planetary alignments, and cosmic anomalies, allowing him to vaguely predict global changes. Furthermore, he can passively sense environmental changes to predict weather, earthquakes, and other meteorological and geological events.
He has two black half-spheres, one in the centre of each palm, which possess a red-violet lustre and serve three distinct purposes. Firstly, they enable him to manipulate the organic fabric of sentient life forms and the four elemental forces that comprise the cosmos: earth, air, water, and fire. Secondly, they allow him to absorb memories and knowledge from the freshly deceased and bodies in various stages of decay. Lastly, by touching a sentient being or placing his hand in close proximity to one, they grant him the ability to communicate with them telepathically.
Hobbies: Gardening (especially cultivating deadly plants and sweet-smelling flowers), playing underground poker games, watching demolition derby events, tinkering with and customising his own vehicles, and engaging in friendly fire incidents during covert missions with military organisations
Likes: Gourmet grilling, the innocent curiosity of children, enjoying a drink after a long battle, the symbolism and cultural significance of flowers, and exploring exotic destinations and natural wonders
Dislikes: Captivity, troublemakers, being stuck in tight spaces (especially during an escape), bureaucratic red tape, and witnessing his comrades and children being exploited and oppressed or caught in situations of gratuitous violence
Favourite food: Tequila (tequila sunrise is his most favourite) and his own gourmet grilled food
Sexuality: Panromantic graysexual
Gender: Male
Age: 50 (in 2022), 56 (in 2028), 58 (in 2030), 60 (in 2032), 62 (in 2034), 69 (in 2041), 71 (in 2043), 72 (in 2044), and 75 (in 2047)
Blood type: A-
Weight: 109 lbs. (49 kg)
Design: He’s a 5 ft (152.4 cm) Canadian-Guatemalan ectomorph of French and Japanese descent with a lean, semi-lanky build, subtle softness around the midsection, and a weak yet surprisingly stocky musculature. He has sloping shoulders, beige skin (it was pale ivory during his younger years), and a small black mole on the right side of his chin. His face shows noticeable signs of aging with forehead lines, frown lines, tear troughs, and nasolabial folds. He has a missing second premolar on his lower jaw and heterochromia eyes: his right eye is a medium sky blue and his left eye is a deep cyan. Tequila sports a brownish-black spiky crew cut dyed a light auburn, which is paired with sideburns, semi-bushy eyebrows, and a slightly dishevelled five o'clock shadow. On his right outer thigh, he has a tattoo depicting a seven-horned Lamb of God, its legs bound, holding an olive branch in its mouth. The lamb is set against a backdrop of a gilded Chi Rho symbol (☧), which is encircled by a radiant, flaming aureola.
He bears numerous battle scars from past encounters, including: half of his upper back being heavily burned; a series of jagged cuts on his left arm caused by shrapnel; a deep, curved scar on his temple; a thin, horizontal knife scar on his chin; a slight cut on his left cheek from a bullet that flew past him; and a bullet wound below the right side of his diaphragm. Tequila also has a series of deep stab wounds on his right shoulder and right lumbar region, a severed tendon (flexor carpi ulnaris) in his left forearm, and a partially cut left thumb. After being experimented on, his body underwent significant transformations: his muscles now have a coppery hue with bronze streaks, his neck is adorned with bearded vulture feathers, his bones are gilded and steel-hard, and his legs are covered in shaggy, greenish-black fur.
His military gear consists of brass-plated goggles with yellow-orange lenses, a navy blue bandana mask, a bone white tank top with a slight rip just above the left hip, and greenish-black gloves. He wears army cargo pants in a camouflage pattern featuring cerulean, lavender grey, and Cambridge blue, which are tucked into spike-soled liver brown combat boots. His pants have two crudely stitched patches: a triangular brownish-red one on the right knee and a rectangular steel blue one on the middle of his left outer thigh. Tequila wears a metal dog tag necklace with his name, navy blue elbow and knee pads, a bronze-buckled leather belt, a sheath for his combat knife, and a drop leg holster for a handgun with a silencer. A Prussian blue waist pack is secured to the back of his belt, containing a bronze-finished flask filled with his tequila cocktail of choice for the day.
He wears a linden green flight jacket, often left unzipped, featuring a brown wolf-fur lining, a metallic silver zipper, and gilded epaulets. The jacket has four pockets and boasts the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. logo emblazoned on the back. It has two hidden compartments designed for firearms, but typically stores a sheathed machete and a scoped bolt-action rifle instead. Additionally, he wears a reseda chartreuse armband on his left sleeve, adorned with the Regular Army insignia. He typically wears a blue-green Lightweight Helmet (LWH), but occasionally opts for a gold-edged wedge cap of linden green seal fur instead.
Over his tank top, he dons a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a cerulean, lavender grey, and Cambridge blue camouflage pattern, which carries around his walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. He wears three dark grey bandoliers: one draped over his right shoulder holds flashbang grenades, another over his left shoulder holds smoke bombs, and a third wraps around his waist above his belt, holding ammunition for his handgun. Tequila carries around a steel blue load-bearing backpack that contains camping equipment, tactical explosives, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, a grappling hook, and a disguise kit that adapts to the specific requirements of each mission. It also contains a rocket launcher, grenade launcher, bazooka, fire gun, missile pod, practical tools like mechanic and lockpicking sets, and a photo album filled with Polaroid pictures.
The pockets of his flight jacket carry around a metallic blue-green lighter, the key to his motorcycle, noise-cancelling earplugs, and a hundred-eyed cowrie shell, a gift from Gimlet. Tequila also carries a collection of cherished photographs: one showing him with his ex-wife, Margaret, and their late son, Thomas; another with his former team, including a young Gimlet; a third featuring a Swiss brassy ringlet on a yellow mountain flower; a fourth capturing Red Eye playfully placing an orange cat on a sleeping Donald Morden; a fifth depicting him and Clark on a mountain hike; and a sixth showing him, Marco, Tarma, Gimlet, and Red Eye, taken one year prior to the Great Morden War.
He has a stash of cigars and a half-empty pack of cigarettes tucked away in the right pocket of his army cargo pants, while his left pocket is occupied by a burgundy instant camera, a digital recorder, a silver engagement ring featuring a princess cut diamond, and a golden wedding band. Ever since he encountered a Swiss brassy ringlet during a hike through the rocky meadows of the European Alps, he fell in love with them and proudly displays a pin depicting one on the left side of his flight jacket. He wears two distinctive necklaces: a black cord with a teardrop-shaped nazar charm and a gold chain holding a pendant of the Immaculate Heart of Mary impaled by a longsword.
His custom-made motorcycle is a glaucous BMW R75, adorned with forest green cheetah spots outlined in sandy beige. The motorcycle comes with a sidecar, which serves as storage for extra supplies and his load-bearing backpack. The sidecar features an intriguing design element: a Swiss brassy ringlet on the antler of an elk skull, proudly displayed on its side. The sidecar is outfitted with a greenish-black rocket turret, while two rotating miniguns are mounted on either side of the front wheel of his motorcycle.
Character summary: He's a cunning, wise, rebellious polyglot with a strong aversion to being bossed around unjustly. As a thrill-seeker, he has a tendency to bluff and revels in the raw power and adrenaline rush that comes with high-intensity situations, which makes him feel alive. He has a strong sense of camaraderie with those he considers comrades and close friends, going to great lengths to ensure their happiness and safety. Tequila is especially devoted to Marco, Tarma, Red Eye, Gimlet, Clark, Eri, and Fio, holding their well-being in the highest regard due to the deep affection he feels for them. Depending on the situation, he can be very blunt, believing that people need to quickly learn that the truth is often a hard pill to swallow. Whenever his patience is running thin or he deems it necessary, he isn't afraid to speak his mind, though his words can be abrasive and unsettling.
Despite his perpetual weary expression, he’s a fundamentally kind-hearted and morally upright leader. Tequila is a tough-as-nails and hypervigilant individual that has a tendency to engage in occasional reckless behaviour. He has a cynical, pessimistic outlook on life, which he occasionally masks through social drinking, reading the newspaper or immersing himself in his hobbies. As an introvert with an exceptionally high intellect, he finds it challenging to connect with others. He has a deep-seated compassion and strong protective instincts towards children who are vulnerable to abuse and exploitation. Tequila views it as a moral obligation to safeguard them from harm and foster a secure environment that allows them to thrive. When drunk, he exhibits clumsiness, boisterousness, sorrowfulness, physical aggression, and increased insulting behaviour (far more than usual). Additionally, he's even more likely to make awkward attempts to flirt with anyone who catches his eye.
He's particularly self-conscious about his height and extremely hates being teased about it. When someone teases him about his height, he tends to retaliate by rudely insulting them, often targeting their appearance-related insecurities. When he's feeling scared or furious towards someone who has visibly angered him, he has a habit of jumping on their back, which may follow up with an attack. Tequila has zero tolerance for cowardice and incompetence, viewing them as lame excuses for people to avoid putting in effort and failing to contribute meaningfully to their roles in society. He dislikes people who are overly pesky or slimy, individuals with a bratty and entitled attitude, unnecessary trouble, political corruption, and duplicity.
As a devout Catholic who also believes in the evil eye, he abhors war and can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for new military recruits, knowing their innocent worldview is likely to be shattered. Nevertheless, he recognizes that everyone has their own reasons for enlisting and refrains from criticising their choices. He becomes vengeful when he encounters people who have been unreasonably hurt or when he feels betrayed and devastated after losing something he deeply cares about. He’ll only betray someone or a cause if he senses that they’re crossing into morally reprehensible territory. He lives with sleep paralysis, atypical depression, and mild borderline personality disorder and PTSD. When he needs time for solitude and contemplation, he withdraws to a cozy sanctuary, wrapping himself in a fluffy blanket and using earplugs to shut out the world.
He harbours a deep-seated hatred towards his former friend, General Morden, stemming from his subsequent betrayal when Morden's megalomaniacal desire for world domination consumed him. He perceives Margaret as promiscuous and attention-seeking, disapproving of her flirtatious behaviour as a means to cope with loneliness. Despite their divorce, he still cares about her well-being and has been gradually rebuilding their relationship, attempting to alleviate her loneliness. He has a strong affinity for Vasser, whom he sees as a surrogate son, striving to educate and guide him on the right path.
However, he often finds himself disappointed by Vasser's ill-tempered bully attitude, his excessive thirst for blood and action, and his tendencies to slack off, cause mischief, and make unwanted advances towards women. He also feels deeply disappointed when Vasser disregards his advice and falls short of the standards he envisioned, which were modelled after his deceased son Thomas—an exceptionally well-behaved child with a keen mind and an eagerness to learn. He's consumed by guilt, feeling that despite his best efforts, he's failed as a father and wonders if he could have done more to prevent Vasser's bad behaviour.
Backstory: Sermeg Bracquemond-Kagamihara was born on December 23, 1972 in Chichicastenango, Guatemala. His biological parents were Kafkasi Bracquemond, a French-Canadian construction worker from Trois-Rivières, Quebec, Canada, and Tsukiko Kagamihara, a Japanese-Canadian entrepreneur who owned an open-air market selling homemade Japanese craft goods. He had an adoptive sister who was six years older than him named Ximena, who had been abandoned by her father, struggling with alcoholism. As expected, he had inherited Tuatha Dé Danann DNA from his parents, which became noticeable when he frequently mentioned seeing a pair of glowing red eyes watching him. Sermeg's parents had also noticed that his intelligence grew at rapid speeds, which they greatly encouraged. Between the ages of 1 and 4, he read numerous books on various subjects, including mathematics, engineering, sociology, psychology, architecture, ancient history, geography, political science, and world religions. By the age of 5, he had taught himself to speak Japanese, Korean, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Romanian, Russian, and German, and learned about their respective cultures.
Before Sermeg's 7th birthday, his father was assassinated by a hitman in retaliation for killing the right-hand man of a prominent Québécois organised crime family near Montreal. Prior to his death, Kafkasi had fled with his wife, Tsukiko, to Guatemala. The crime family, seeking revenge and viewing Tsukiko and her children as potential assets, had planned to force them into hard labour and prostitution. Out of fear, Tsukiko made the tough decision to put Sermeg and Ximena up for adoption, hoping they would be safe. Shortly after, Tsukiko vanished mysteriously, leaving behind only speculation that she had fallen prey to the Québécois crime family's sinister activities.
They were adopted by an organ harvester named Tecuani, who took pity on them after learning about the fate of their parents. Despite his illicit profession, Tecuani went out of his way to ensure that Sermeg and Ximena were well-fed and properly educated. He even taught them essential survival skills for navigating the dangers of the streets, giving them a better chance at thriving in a challenging world. However, their time together was short-lived, as Tecuani was promptly arrested after one of his employees reported him to the police for operating an illegal organ harvesting business.
As a result, Sermeg and Ximena were placed into the foster care system, where they experienced a tumultuous journey through four different foster families. The first family was neglectful and struggled with addiction, the second was intimidated by Sermeg's abnormal intelligence, and the third, although kind and lenient, harboured an uncle who posed a sexual threat to Ximena.
Tragically, their last foster family was a source of immense pain and suffering. The foster father, a business executive named Clifford, was controlling and abusive, lashing out physically and emotionally, especially when Sermeg dared to stand up for himself. The foster mother, a psychiatrist named Magdalena, failed to provide a safe and nurturing environment, neglecting their needs and belittling them with hurtful words that preyed on their insecurities. Ximena, who had always been dear to Magdalena, struggled with depression, PTSD, and body dysmorphia, which ultimately led to her eventual suicide when Sermeg was just 12 years old.
At age 15, Sermeg joined a newly formed cartel that promised him refuge and financial assistance in exchange for killing and cannibalising his foster parents. Initially hesitant due to his disgust at the idea of consuming his abusers, he was motivated by the prospect of exacting revenge. He followed through on the cartel's demands, completing his initiation and rapidly rising through the ranks thanks to his street smarts. He played a key role in gathering valuable intelligence for the cartel's boss and devising strategic plans for financial management and tactical attacks.
To cope with his emotional pain and seek excitement, he turned to drinking various tequila cocktails, eventually leading to an addiction and a particular fondness for tequila sunrise. His struggles with addiction led to him being dubbed "Tequila" by those around him, a nickname he unexpectedly embraced as part of his identity and later adopted as his codename for military operations.
The circumstances of his departure from the cartel are unclear, but rumours suggest that the cartel was either absorbed into or annihilated by a relatively obscure cult-like guerrilla group from Venezuela known as the Theophylaktos Union. However, it's confirmed that he did join the Theophylaktos Union at age 19, becoming a skilled mercenary and spy for the organisation. He admits that he had a boyfriend during his time in the Theophylaktos Union, but their relationship was cut short when his partner was killed in friendly fire. This was also when he began exploring mechanics and constructed his first custom-made motorcycle.
At the age of 21, during a raid on a Brazilian town, he encountered a frightened child clinging to her dead mother and her severely injured younger brother. Initially, he callously shot her, believing her to be an obstacle to fulfilling the Dark Lord's supposedly twisted desires. Yet, upon reflection, he questioned his actions and his allegiance to the Theophylaktos Union, ultimately realising that this path was not for him. He subsequently retired from the group, assumed the alias Sosuke N. Kanikoja for his protection, relocated to Trois-Rivières, Quebec, Canada, and sought rehabilitation to address his escalating alcohol addiction. He also turned to Catholicism as a way to find new meaning in life and began working as a bartender and cashier at a flower shop.
While working as a bartender, he met Hyakutaro, who had just completed a challenging mission for the Regular Army. They quickly formed a strong bond after sharing their personal struggles and aspirations. Hyakutaro encouraged him to join the Regular Army, hoping it would give him a sense of direction and purpose. Inspired by their conversation, he enlisted in the Regular Army at the age of 25 and went on to specialise in hostage rescue missions. He also developed expertise in camouflage, secret identities, and intelligence gathering, earning recognition as the Regular Army's top covert agent. His exceptional leadership skills, tactical planning, and recruitment abilities further propelled him to the rank of Brigadier General. However, his experiences soon exposed him to the harsh realities of war and corruption, witnessing the brutal deaths of many friends and comrades. These traumatic events would haunt him, fueling recurring nightmares and night terrors.
Four years after joining the Regular Army and Intelligence Agency, he was among the first to be transferred to the newly established S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. special forces unit, becoming one of its founding members, alongside Red Eye. He met Margaret Southwood shortly after the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. was established, encountering her at the Combat Academy section of the Intelligence Division. He immediately fell in love with her and decided to ask her out on a few dates, which blossomed into a romance. As their relationship grew, they eventually got married and had a single child together, naming him Thomas. Tragically, their marriage was short-lived after their five-year-old son was killed by a drunk driver. As they both struggled to cope with their grief, Margaret turned to promiscuity and Tequila turned to drinking as a means of distraction. Unfortunately, these coping mechanisms created an insurmountable rift, leading to their divorce.
At age 39, after exiting a pub and heading back to a nearby Regular Army base on his motorcycle, he noticed a malnourished teenage boy lying in an alleyway with a bruised and bloodied face. He took great pity on the boy and promptly aided him, noticing the boy's eerie silence and uncanny resemblance to Thomas. He decided to head back to the base later and instead brought the boy to a restaurant, buying him lunch. After a couple of minutes of trying to encourage the boy to speak, he finally introduced himself as Vasser Gutenschiff-Wolstenholme and shared his story of taking to the streets to escape his abusive father, Kanan. Moved by Vasser's situation and seeing it as a duty to protect children from harm, he vowed to enact vengeance. With the assistance of Vasser, he ambushed Kanan by breaking into his house, then adopted Vasser through the Regular Army's orphan program.
A couple of years after Vasser's adoption, he met Morden unexpectedly while serving with the North American Garrison, which was assisting the European Garrison and Middle Eastern Garrison in thwarting an Oceania military organisation's attempt to spark a full-scale nuclear war. Following the successful completion of this mission, they forged a bond over drinks and shared stories of their challenging childhoods. Morden also expressed his admiration for Tequila's courage in his espionage work and leadership abilities within the North American Garrison.
He would eventually become a revered mentor and friend to many, including Clark, Red Eye, Tarma, and Marco. Notably, he encouraged Vasser to join the Peregrine Falcons Squad, but this guidance had an unexpected consequence: Vasser began to reveal a more attention-seeking and bloodthirsty side, indulging in troublesome, slothful, and lecherous tendencies that led to several issues. In addition to rescuing hostages, he consistently went above and beyond to save children who were in imminent danger or at risk of harm, making their safety a top priority regardless of the mission. One mission that remains etched in his memory is when he rescued a group of children being trafficked and sold on the black market, while his team simultaneously took down the criminals responsible for this heinous crime.
He played a key role in the Arms Deal Barrage and defeating the remnants of the Serapion Fellowship. He's the primary reason the event bears the name “Barrage”. He orchestrated an artillery bombardment on the fortress housing a critical power facility and a massive space rocket, significantly weakening the Serapion Fellowship's defences. However, the mission would uncover a shocking truth: the Regular Army was secretly involved in an illegal arms deal with the Serapion Fellowship, a revelation he shared with Gimlet, Sagan, Logan, Hyakutaro, Red Eye, Morden, and Allen O'Neil. This moment opened his eyes to the Regular Army's secret corruption, but he remained silent, fearing that speaking out would make him a target for swift assassination as a whistleblower.
Three years after the Central Park bombing, Morden secretly approached him at a bar and convinced him to defect. Believing it was a good opportunity, he quietly resigned from the Regular Army and S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. to join the Rebel Army. He excelled as a top-notch spy, often disguising himself as a Rebel in a woodland military uniform for land troops. He rose to become Morden's right-hand man, serving as the Army's Chief of Staff. However, after nearing one year of service, he discovered General Morden's true intentions and how he had fully succumbed to his megalomaniacal desires. Horrified, he promptly left the Rebel Army and defected back to the Regular Army, warning them about the impending rise of the Rebel Army. However, despite his inside knowledge, they were unable to prepare in time as General Morden successfully launched a surprise attack, overpowering them and rapidly consolidating his global dictatorship.
During the Great Morden War, he aided Marco in leading the governmental resistance against the Rebel Army. Although he held a higher military rank than Marco, he allowed Marco to take the initiative, recognizing his great potential to become a truly charismatic leader. After being ambushed by Morden and his forces, he was brutally tortured and forcibly killed in front of Marco and Tarma. However, Morden promised to bring him back in a greater form, sending his deceased body to Doctor Amadeus. Doctor Amadeus successfully revived Tequila, but as a semi-clone of Hyakutaro, significantly altering his existence.
Updated: September 18, 2024
Reworked Group #4: S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S.
Overview
Tequila and Red Eye successfully dismantled a rogue military organisation engaged in illicit human trafficking and arms dealing, which had also planned to launch a global bioterrorist attack in collaboration with the Pipovulaj Army. The plot involved spreading a zombie plague to control the population, transforming numerous innocent civilians into violent Man Eaters as a means to create a twisted form of super-soldier. Impressed by Tequila and Red Eye's exceptional performance as highly capable spies, the Intelligence Agency and the Regular Army jointly established a covert operations branch, S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., through a mutual agreement.
The S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. is responsible for gathering intelligence and managing information to prevent public panic and global hysteria. They provide their members with specialised training in high-risk covert operations that surpass the scope of regular Intelligence Agency agents, which are all conducted with utmost discretion and situational awareness. Some of these special covert operation missions involve precision targeting of high-priority threats and strategic disruption of complex criminal schemes.
Insignia
It features a cerulean square Iberian shield, rimmed with a spiky teal vine that’s outlined in bronze. Above the shield, the words "S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S." are inscribed in bluish-white, surmounting a stylized pair of bronze eyes with a yellowish-white star at their centre. The shield is flanked by a stylized peregrine falcon holding a gilded blade on the right side and a male house sparrow clutching an olive branch on the left side.
S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. Base
The Intelligence Division is tactically positioned adjacent to the Joint Military Police Headquarters, deeply entrenched within a dense and remote forest in Northern Russia. The rectangular military compound features a forest-inspired camouflage colour scheme, a secure warehouse for military vehicles, multiple surveillance cameras, and several elevators leading to a subterranean base. They have a rooftop array of parabolic antennas that enables real-time surveillance, threat detection, and situational awareness, preventing surprise attacks and informing strategic decision-making. The base features comprehensive protection through an advanced security system and a defensive magnetic field, which automatically activates in response to potential threats, safeguarding against enemy attacks.
The subterranean base features a state-of-the-art command and surveillance centre, equipped with cutting-edge technological systems to orchestrate and execute operations. Additional facilities include:
An armoury housing the group’s most cutting-edge, high-clearance weaponry and specialised ordnance.
A high-tech meeting room with a high-resolution, encrypted display screen and multi-axis, AI-enhanced holographic projection system.
A state-of-the-art gymnasium for maintaining elite physical readiness, featuring biometric monitoring systems and AI-driven training programs.
A fully equipped, high-tech medical bay with regenerative treatment capabilities and telemedicine connectivity for remote expert consultation.
A secure dining area serving optimised, nutrient-rich rations for peak performance.
A high-security quarters with biometrically locked storage for personal gear and AI-monitored, secure communication arrays.
A Combat Academy, led by Margaret Southwood, featuring a heavily fortified training area with advanced combat simulation zones, tactical obstacle courses, stealth and surveillance training areas, and high-tech weapons testing ranges.
Extra Information
S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. stands for Special Pursuit Agents and Rapid Response Operations Worldwide Strikeforce.
Members of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. are commonly known as "Sparrowers" or "Following Falconers", reflecting their affiliation with the unit and their close relationship with the P.F. Squad.
Despite being part of an elite covert operations branch, Sparrowers face a significant pay disparity: males earn a quarter of the average government agent's salary, while females earn about a third. Additionally, underperforming Sparrowers, both male and female, experience further financial hardship due to delayed salary payments, often waiting between one to two months to receive their overdue compensation.
The S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. conduct their covert operations in collaboration with the Peregrine Falcons Squad who provide primary firepower and protection for their agents.
The handguns carried by Sparrowers are the Murder Model-1915 .38 Mk.1Am or Classic Murder .38 for short. It’s a double-action revolver that features a 6-round cylinder. Originally designed to enhance the Enfield No.2 .38 Caliber revolver in 1915, the Murder Model retained only the frame and grip from the original. All other components were replaced with newer parts in later years.
Updated: September 24, 2024
Which characters are assigned to each of the seven Regular Army garrisons?
I know this is very uncalled for, but I just thought about this. The Regular Army is separated into seven garrisons and a good chunk of the characters work for them via their special forces units. I've compiled a list of which characters belong to each garrison.
North American Garrison: Marco Rossi, Ralf Jones, Clark Still, Tequila, Allen Jr., Sophia Greenville, and Margaret Southwood
European Garrison: Fio Germi, Nadia Cassel, and Gimlet
Eurasian Garrison: Hyakutaro Ichimonji
Asian Garrison: Tarma Roving, Eri Kasamoto, Trevor Spacey, Rumi Aikawa, and Madoka Aikawa
Middle Eastern Garrison: Tyra Elson
African Garrison: Red Eye
Oceania Garrison: Walter Ryan
I'm not giving y'all the option to hug them all. You can only choose one...
me quiero emborrachar!!!!!!!
“tequila girlfriend”
tranquil eyes framed by heart-shaped sunglasses flicker from your glass to the older voices you hear
you wear the diamond necklace you never liked and you never asked for as
you listen to music and you watch boys and hope they hear the lyrics and flirt back with their eyes
but you were born too late to be starved like this
the mark of the witch is on your waist and your short skirt reveals plush thighs i am dying to hold on to
and if i do die one day, preferably before your time, i will become a virtue and i will come to you and watch your vices and fall in love with you more
you’ll be the first devil up in heaven
i’m not religious, but i still turn to prayer when i feel like i have nothing left to love
we always talk until we say too much and even then i fall harder for you
i just want to kiss your dry wet lips and you’ll never lie to me again
if they hadn’t heard you too, i wouldn’t be able to prove you were there
and if i never moan your name again i hope my teeth rot off
even if i had a voice in my head screaming at me to turn back, you would just whisper me closer
and i’d gladly oblige in everything you do
your mind is a bloodbath, and i will bring a towel and clean it
and watch you, my girlfriend, sip tequila while i drown out your heartbreak