That's right, I carried it over from Halo2Boards...

Post an example, and I'll give you a rank based on your level of proficiency.

I guess I'll go first...

Here's the very first post from my latest fanfic.

Earth. The human home planet. Not to long ago, it was overtaken by an alien race called the Covenant. The war lasted for what felt like a lifetime, but the humans managed to prevail and drove the evil race back to the shadows it had crawled out of. The war was over; everything could finally go back to normal. That’s what one person would think if they didn’t know the whole story.

Exactly three years ago; a team of six, four Spartans and two Elites, were sent to kill a Rouge Spartan. This rouge believed that there was no way to defeat the Covenant; that humanity should give up and kneel before the power of the alien race. The Spartans, who were sent after him, rejected that answer and chased him down to the very end. It turned out that the Spartan was under the rule of another, more powerful Spartan named Atlas. At the last minute; the Rouge Spartan, codenamed Raven turned on his leader and ran away. During this mission; one of the Spartans died. His name was Lance 119. Lance was a very pessimistic guy who always assumed the worst in every situation. He had a very close friend; a fellow Spartan named Sheena 554.

She was an emotionally weaker Spartan than most of the soldiers. She had human emotions, anger, sadness, happiness, hate, rage, love, the whole ordeal. These emotions were non existent in the life of a Spartan. But once Raven killed Lance; Sheena’s personality changed. In a way, she became a lot like her close friend. She no longer felt happiness anymore, she always assumed the worst and felt that her existence might as well be void, and her best friend was dead. That kind of thing could depress a person, no matter how strong they are.

But after the mission, something… unexpected happened. All the other Spartans that were in cryogenic sleep; woke up. They weren’t themselves. They were no longer heartless soldiers who knew only to kill on command. They had their emotions back. Most scientists say that the part of the brain that controls logic and personality went dormant during augmentation. After a while it finally woke up, and the Spartans had their hearts back. It was the first time in years they could feel emotions. For most of the Spartans, the first emotion that came into their heads was always the same: Anger.

They were angry because they had their lives taken away from them. They were angry because they had gone through so much pain and suffering to serve a planet that took their lives away. They were angry because they were thought of only as soldiers and not human beings anymore. But most of all; they were angry because they had no idea what to do next. They followed orders normally at first. They would feel strange emotional pains when they were told to do something they didn’t think was right; but they always bottled it up, until one day, all the pent up range finally broke out; and they did the one thing they could think of.
They rebelled.

Riots; raids, massacres, shootings, you name it. All hell broke loose in the UNSC. Some Spartans stayed loyal to the UNSC, others joined small rebellion colonies on asteroids. But most became freelancers; who would join any side if the money was right. That was the path Sheena 554 chose. She had no other place in the world; she felt this was the best thing for her to do. Her life no longer had any meaning, and only one thing derived her to continue.
Revenge.
She was going to kill Raven, one way or another.

For now; she had to wait for a contract to reach her. Sheena was calmly leaning against a metal fence on Warlock City. It was odd to her because this city was once a lifeless battle ground. But now that the war was over, it was a busy city with civilians constantly on the move to get from one place to another. Sheena calmly laid herself against the metal railing that separated the land from the vast body of water beyond it. Apparently Warlock City was on an island. As she looked around at the innocent civilians, she took her helmet off and reached into a side compartment build into the suit’s right thigh. The Spartan gently pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and with a sigh; put one to her mouth.

“Damn cancer sticks…” She mumbled to herself as she lit the small stick of tobacco. She leaned her head back and exhaled a large puff of smoke as the sun shined on her pale face. Sheena removed her helmet on rare occasions. She thought herself to be very ugly, when most of the time people disagreed with her. Sheena was around 24 years old and had the body of a full fit Olympics athlete times two. She had very pale skin (from lack of sunlight), messy black hair that reached to her shoulders, gray eyes, and two crescent shaped scars on both her cheeks.

“Mommy! Look!” A shrilly voice called out. Sheena looked for the source of the voice to find a little boy franticly pointing at her.
“Mommy! Look! She has cool clothes! I want some!” Sheena calmly laughed to herself at the statement. The kid couldn’t have been over five years old; around the age she’s been drafted into the UNSC. A woman then quickly rushed to her son and grabbed her son by the arm and dragged him away from her. She looked scared.
“Guess I’m more foe than friend…” She calmly told herself. That was when she heard static coming from her helmet. She quickly tossed the cigarette into the water and put her helmet on.
“Yeah?” Sheena asked casually.
“Spartan 554, we have a mission for you.” Came the normally strict voice of her new boss, Vic.
“What is it?” Sheena asked lazily.
“On the Rebel Colonies, they were hosting some experiment. It went wrong.” Vic explained.
“Elaborate.” Sheena replied. Through another crackle of static, Vic said “The Spartans that joined with them have been augmented to a further extent. Instead of physical strength increasing, the goal of the rebels was to augment their minds. Instead of being soldiers, some became great tactitians. For a while; things were good, but then another Spartan came into the program. A rouge.”
“Raven.” Sheena interrupted.
“Yes… Raven. He managed to get a ring of Spartans to follow his influence and is now forming his own army of Spartans. We thought that you’d be the best person for the job.” Vic said sternly.
“No problem. Don’t bother paying me, this one’s on the house.” Sheena said calmly. Vic sighed “It’s always on the house.” He mumbled.
“Will I be flying solo?” Sheena asked.
“No; we have an ally ready for you, he should be on his way. Station 232 out.” Vic said. The COM channel then went dead.

With that, Sheena felt that there was nothing better to do than to wait for this new guy to come in, so she grabbed her cigarettes and started to puff the time away. She went through 3 and a half cancer sticks when the guy finally arrived.
“What took you?” She asked.
“I wanted to keep you waiting.” The Spartan replied. Sheena looked at this soldier, sizing him up. He had the standard C.Q.B. armor, which was brown. There wasn’t much else to the guy than that.
“Alex 080 reporting for duty.” He said unenthusiastically.
“Great, now let’s get some ground rules down.” Sheena mumbled as she stood up straighter.
“There are only a few rules, know them well. Rule number one, don’t piss me off. Rule two: When I tell you to do something, you do it and not question me unless I give you permission, and trust me. I hardly do. Rule three, don’t be an idiot. No charging in heroically to save me if I’m in a tight squeeze, it might get you killed. Rule number four: Obey rules one, two, and three. Got it?” Sheena said firmly.

“Okay, but just so you know, I’m no pushover. I’ll disobey those rules as much as I damn well please. I’m not some yes man who you could just drag around.” Alex quickly replied.

Sheena raised her eyebrow.

“Big talk for a noobie like you, what makes you want to say that to me?” She asked curiously.

“Frankly, your high-strung attitude was pissing me off.” Alex replied.
“What do you specialize in?” Sheena asked. Alex pulled out his sniper rifle “Recon, sniping, C.Q.C., medium assault, and piloting.” He proudly said. Sheena nodded.
“Good first impression, Alex.” She said calmly.
“That’s Spartan 080 to you.” Alex quickly replied.

“Whatever. Let’s go.” Sheena said lazily. With that, the duo left Warlock Island. But they didn’t notice the figure in black armor following them…

10/10. I'm going to go read the Exile now.

I am the definition of the word: BEAST!

Thanks alot, Dark. Oh, and sorry for giving you lukemia the first time I tried to make an RP, remember that?

Right, so, I'll just use my last post from the Too Few for Drums thread. Cos I'm too lazy to write something up special!

(...and I want to call Dark's attention to it an extra time, because I really wanna know what happens next.)

-----

McFadden moved through the undergrowth carefully. The twining vegetation that carpeted the bottom of the jungle understory masked hidden faults in the ground; a wrong step here would slow you down a good deal more than taking your time about where you set your foot. She had the right flank, and her eyes moved rapidly from place to place, never settling anywhere. This damned fog could hide any number of Covenant until they were right on top of them. Her mind, the usual balance upset by fatigue and stress, kept making her see flickers of motion out of the corner of her eye in the swirling fog, yet every time she looked directly at the phantoms there was nothing there.

It was unnerving, even though she knew that they were no more than a trick of the light.

She had pinned her hopes on reaching Nova Base. They had no chance of surviving out here for an extended period with no backup; and Picton’s forces did not count as backup. At Nova Base, they’d get new orders from high command, and something would be organised out of all this chaos. She prayed for a strike against the Covenant, for a chance to get a little of her own back after the slaughter at Santo Ângelo. But failing that, she’d settle for evac and living to fight again another day.

McFadden glanced forward and to her left at Sergeant Crawford. There were nineteen survivors besides herself, all of whom Crawford had found after the assault. Few of them would be alive or have any hope of surviving New Brazil if it wasn’t for the sergeant. Several of them were greenies, and some of them were hopeless wrecks, barely shadows of what they’d been, jumping at every stray noise. Even McFadden herself was twitchy. What he’d done to pull them together out of the ashes of the base was practically a miracle. She trusted him to get them to Nova Base; on her own, she knew she’d never make it, but Crawford would take them there.

He hadn’t shared their planned route with McFadden, but she guessed that they’d be heading for the ford. For most of its length, the Paraná was deceptively flat and calm, hiding the depth and speed of the flow. In this place it widened out and broke into rapids, foaming white and leaping over the rocks that thrust up from the shallowing riverbed. It was not an ideal crossing, but the bridges up and down the length of the river would be watched by Covenant air patrols. It was their best shot.

Crawford took point himself, gesturing to the fireteam to follow after him, and McFadden waded forward into the river. After the damp heat of the jungle, the sudden numbing chill was shocking; her fatigues soaked through in seconds. She plodded along regardless, holding the SRS99C-S2 AMB high out of the water, fighting the current to keep her footing on the slippery, treacherous bottom. Though the river looked more dramatic in these shallows, the speed of the water was actually slowed in the flattening wash. It went all the way up to McFadden’s throat, and she had to tilt her chin upwards to keep her face out of the water, but she struggled through, trying to keep an eye on the soldiers behind and beside her.

She saw them before she heard them. At first she was worried that it was her jumpy imagination, but the distinctive bulbous silhouettes and the shrill whine of their engines in the distance were unmistakeable. The Sergeant had already seen them as well.

There was no way they could fight it out here in the middle of the river. The water made it impossible to move quickly enough, there was no cover to be had, and the Banshees would pick them off as easily as crows snapping up slugs. Her mind snapped the picture and put things together. They were halfway across the river, and on the other side was undergrowth, cover, and safety. The fog was thick over the water, which would help mask them from the enemy patrol, but sudden movement could give them away.

She moved forward slowly and deliberately, watching the others as much as she watched the still-distant Banshees. If any of them panicked and tried to run for the shore, it would be all up with the fireteam. “Steady! Keep it quiet!” she hissed at the men behind her.

I guess I will use the first post of my current fanfic then. I think you already rated it though....

Zaku' Vodamee unsheathed his sword, and let the searing blue energy that formed the blade burst forward. He sprinted toward the enemy, golden armor gleaming in the sunlight, shouting all the while. Several bodies, Unggoy and Sangheili alike, littered the grass around Zaku'. His comrades had been slain by the Demon, and Zaku' was not about to let him get away with it. "Have at you, Demon!" He bellowed in ferocity, as his blade weilding arm sliced upward.

The unidentified Spartan swiftly dodged the sword, it's radiant and powerful energy sweeping a hairs bredth from his helmet. Zaku' swung again and again, the Spartan dodging every time. Soon, the blade-slinging Elite grew weary of the task, and came up with something a bit more tactical than brute force.

Zaku's free fist sped toward the Demon, almost impacting its right shoulder. The Spartan was to quick for the Elite, but this time he would regret his agility. As the Demon dodged, Zaku' swung his sword in the opposite direction in which the Demon moved, connected with it's arm, and he soon was rewarded.

Zaku' observed a titian glow envelope his enemy, and the Spartan's shields diminished. Zaku' pulled his blade back, and as he did so blood from a newly inflicted wound spattered through the air, and also trickled down the Demon's armored arm from where it spilled. Zaku' could not see the Demon's face, for it was masked by a reflective visor, but despite Zaku's own blindness he sensed fear in him.

"You are not worthy of death by my blade, but so be it." Zaku' mumbled, and began brining his blade forward.
Just then, both Zaku' and the Spartan were distracted by the roar of an engine. A Warthog sped around a mountainous rock formation, and headed in their direction, kicking up a large cloud of dirt. "Let us finish this, coward!" Zaku' yelled, but then noticed the Warthog was occupied by even more Demons. "Vile beasts!" Zaku' cried, and brought his sword down. He was to late.

The Spartan in the passenger seat of the Warthog reached for the gauntleted hand of his comrade about to be butchered by Zaku'. He gripped it and didn't let go. The Warthog sped off, leaving a furious Zaku' in it's dust.

Zaku' de-activated his sword, and the blade dissipated. "The Prophets will not be pleased by news of these Demons escape from death.." he quietly grumbled to himself, and marched back to his dropship.

10. Very nice.

I noticed I left out a letter twice. I put brining instead of bringing, and in "He was to late" I left out an "o" in to.

On which one? XP

I'm guessing both? Anyway, if you want to read my current RP, it is called "The Hunt".

I forgot to give Tye her grade.

10/10.

I forgot to give Tye her grade.

10/10.

Heh, after reading her entry, that gade seems pretty low...