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Guest Mike Golf

Lieutenant Commander Colin Jenkins, Royal Reds: My life on paper.

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Guest Mike Golf   
Guest Mike Golf

So just a little background to this before I get to the hardcore RP. Colin Jenkins is a character I had for around a month and a half, not a long time in some respects but was great fun to play. Colin is a lot like myself in many ways, a military man from a working class family. Colin developed a very hard outer shell from a very young age, only growing thicker with the years under his belt. Colin was an older character for me to play, coming in at 44 years old. Due to the nature of the Royal Reds disbanding or as we RP'd it: going on an expedition to Namalsk I am no longer playing as Colin. I'd like to continue his legacy on through this diary or journal type thing of events that would happen during his time leading the Royal Reds on Namalsk. This will be released in sectors, whenever I get around to writing a new piece unless it's highly requested, which I'm unsure if it will be. This is my first piece of proper written RP other than in character messages so it'll be nice to give it a try, make sure you let me know what you think and without further ado, here is the diary, journal and somewhat memoirs of Colin Jenkins.

*it was a cold, snowy, grim night on the island of Namalsk. Lt. CDR Colin Jenkins and Dip. Cpt Boris Tankov had been sent out to assist the rest of their mercenary force on the island of Namalsk as they protected an old, wise doctor while he tried to further his research into the cure, the medical facilities hadn't been present on Chernarus so they were forced here. As the old AN-2 Cargo plane had made a touchdown at a grass runway known as Sebjan he immediately knew this wasn't a great idea. His Field Cpt had provided him with this little blank book to record his thoughts in, with not much else to do he thought he'd give it a try after a few days and see what he thought. They made their way to camp and settled down, Colin was wide awake and the time difference had well and truly ruined his flawless sleeping pattern so he decided to skip the few days waiting and went straight ahead with putting his thoughts to paper. It read:*

My name is Colin Jenkins. I'm a 44 year old man originally from Scotland, however I don't feel I truly have a home any more. Ivan instructed me to use one of these things and I don't yet know if it's one of his idiotic ideas or one of his good ones, regardless, if you're reading this I'm more than likely dead.

You see, I'm a secretive person. The people who know my story are people who I've known and trusted for a while, which is why I'm not sure it's right to write it down in here. Fuck it, who's going to see it?

During my early years as a child I was never really regarded as a kid who was worth anyone's time. My parents were never around, they were always working to pay off something or another. My brothers got involved in the wrong side of football and I was left inbetween, with no clue which way to go. After getting several juvenile offences racked up on my record I genuinely hadn't a care in the world, I just wanted someone to notice me. The second I turned 16 I got that attention, I was told by the court to either do jail time or go to the military to sort my life out. I took the easy option, I went to the military.

During my life as a soldier I changed a lot, I cared for someone other than myself. The men I served with were my family and they held me up beyond belief. For the first time, I knew what it was like to have someone to care for, and them return the favour. Joining the Blackwatch was the best thing I'd ever done, however, I felt I could further myself: for the first time I actually had ambition to do something. After achieving Lance Corporal I booked an appointment with the Regimental Sergeant Major, who would then relay messages to Lieutenant-Colonol Williams and he'd act as a liaison between the two regiments. During my time so far in the Army I had shown outstanding attention to detail and willingness to learn, for this, I was granted a transfer to 2PARA, the 2nd Battalion Parachute Regiment. Being a paratrooper or maroon beret is a great achievement to any soldier, it means you're one of the big boys. One of the crown jewels, a highly respected soldier. To this day, my maroon beret comes before my tan beret, I was and always would be a paratrooper before I was a member of any special forces group. However, I'm getting off track. Leaving the Blackwatch was the hardest thing I had ever had to do, I was walking away from my family and what felt like leaving them forever. I knew I shouldn't have, but I did. I had a burning desire in my 18 year old self to prove all the people back at my so called home that I wasn't a wasted person.

So here I was, back at ITC Catterick to complete the Pegasus Company (P Coy) training, this is a training course that all budding paratroopers must complete and was one of the hardest things I had to do, over the course of seven days I had eight tests to do with men I barely knew, which was hard going for me. My hard shell getting the better of me, once again. Somehow, I pulled through and passed P Coy, on completion I moved to the 4 week basic parachute course, which once again was with different people and during the beginning was almost impossible for me. It was like I kept shutting down, keeping all of the people out. I felt like a kid who had lost his parents at a supermarket, I was going bat shit crazy. By something not short of a miracle, I passed and got my wings. I was then sent to meet my once again new servicemen and family at my new barracks in Colchester, England.

My mind from here on out is a little blurry, until I turned 29. As a Sergeant now I had gotten rid of this hard outer shell problem and had completed 4 tours and countless covert operations, I had made it. I had even met myself a fiancee, Emma, whom was expecting our first child. It was rather bad timing in my life, I had just passed SAS selection and had been accepted as a member of the British Special Forces, however: Ryan Jenkins was born on my 30th birthday, what were the chances? I could tell from the get go he would be a heartbreaker some day, I just hoped I lived to see it. I married Emma on the 8th of May 2001, we were both 31 and young Ryan had not long had his first birthday. Lone behold, two weeks later I found out Emma was pregnant again. I can remember the feeling like it was yesterday, the ecstatic but sad feeling of knowing that due to my career, my kids may not get to properly know their father. The problem was, when I tried to leave I physically felt sick and couldn't abandon the army. The Army had given so much to me it felt as though I was biting off the hand that fed me and had gave me so much. Nicola Jenkins was born 7th of January, 2002. She'd be twelve now. *you see an ink smudge on the page, possibly distinguishable as a teardrop* Ah, kids. How did they break a man like me down? *further frustration marks are seen as the crinkles and wrinkles in the paper get clearer* I need to calm down, this isn't getting us anywhere. However, I do feel like this book is one of Ivans better ideas, if you're reading this kiddo, congrats, you got me. It wasn't until 2010 that I left the Army, after serving 2 years in the Blackwatch, 10 years in the parachute regiment and 12 in the Special Air Service, better known as the SAS, I felt it was time I got a regular job and tried to live out the rest of my life in peace and watch my kids grow up.

At 40 years old, I looked 50. The Army had taken its toll on me beyond belief and I was having a lot of problems accepting the loss of the Army. I yearned for the comradeship that came with the Army, the brothers, the sisters, the family. I felt empty without it, I decided to move into the mercenary side of things, what a stupid idea that was. *once again, the stress marks can be seen beside the page, as if someone had gripped it to exert anger*

I was sent as a bodyguard to an Arab Sheikh to escort him throughout the middle east on a tour of several oil fields. During my time in the military I had had many experiences in the sandy side, it was nothing out of the ordinary. Until half way through the job I got a phonecall from my little boy *once again a similar smudge mark can be seen* saying that his mum had been found with a hole in her neck, in the same room as Nicola who had a similar wound. The whole street was apparently attacked by some lunatics, I couldn't even move as I heard my own Son's screams on the satellite telephone. Why Colin? You useless piece of shit, you spend all these years protecting your country and others but when your family need you you can't fucking perform? I'm a waste of space, the people back "home" were completely right. I didn't deserve to be alive. If it wasn't for my work, I would've ended it all sooner. Fuck this little book, I'm sitting here like a little girl with tears strolling down my face. Fuck it, that's enough. For tonight anyway.

*you see a lot of what had been damp, crinkled paper and smudging towards the bottom and you feel as though you can feel the man's pain, you too feel as though it's enough for one nights reading and set it aside, for another time when you're more prepared*

Well ladies and gents, I hope you enojoyed my first attempt at written RP. It's no match to some of the talented RPers out there but I did put effort into it and hope that people like it enough for me to continue it. I really enjoy playing as Colin and I'd like to keep him alive, through the forums at least. Through the next instalment I'll run through the rest of his life and make a start on Chernarus, through to Namalsk where I create the rest of his legacy. If you could please leave a post to let me know your thoughts and any feedback you have, it'd be great! Thanks.

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Moose    7

Looks like Colin aint so tough afterall. I thought you said you were a badass and killed more men then I've eaten warm meals?

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Guest Mike Golf   
Guest Mike Golf

Awesome man, keep going.

Dude. This was awesome. Keep it up!

I sure will, thanks guys!

Looks like Colin aint so tough afterall. I thought you said you were a badass and killed more men then I've eaten warm meals?

Colin's a complex person, he has this hard front that he forces on people but once you get to know him he's actually a really soft hearted guy. Too bad you ladies didn't get to see that side, you were too busy looking after zombies :D.

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Moose    7

Colin's a complex person, he has this hard front that he forces on people but once you get to know him he's actually a really soft hearted guy. Too bad you ladies didn't get to see that side, you were too busy looking after zombies :D.

So uhh is Colin dead? It says if we found his journal he is probably dead... Dont be dead... We still have to drag you into the woods and feed you to Cassie :(

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Guest Mike Golf   
Guest Mike Golf

Colin's a complex person, he has this hard front that he forces on people but once you get to know him he's actually a really soft hearted guy. Too bad you ladies didn't get to see that side, you were too busy looking after zombies :D.

So uhh is Colin dead? It says if we found his journal he is probably dead... Dont be dead... We still have to drag you into the woods and feed you to Cassie :(

Not quite yet, he's on a trip in Namalsk with the rest of the Royal Reds taking care of a doctor looking for the cure, they needed leadership as one of their Lieutenants fell ill. I put that in there because Colin wouldn't reveal his past on any kind of solid proof such as paper unless he was sure no-one would find it, I'll release how someone found his journal or is reading it in the future. Not quite sure how to get it out yet. When the Royal Reds return Colin will return :).

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Moose    7

Colin's a complex person, he has this hard front that he forces on people but once you get to know him he's actually a really soft hearted guy. Too bad you ladies didn't get to see that side, you were too busy looking after zombies :D.

So uhh is Colin dead? It says if we found his journal he is probably dead... Dont be dead... We still have to drag you into the woods and feed you to Cassie :(

Not quite yet, he's on a trip in Namalsk with the rest of the Royal Reds taking care of a doctor looking for the cure, they needed leadership as one of their Lieutenants fell ill. I put that in there because Colin wouldn't reveal his past on any kind of solid proof such as paper unless he was sure no-one would find it, I'll release how someone found his journal or is reading it in the future. Not quite sure how to get it out yet. When the Royal Reds return Colin will return :).

Ohhhh so you're the ones with Sophia? Or a different doctor?

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Guest Mike Golf   
Guest Mike Golf

So uhh is Colin dead? It says if we found his journal he is probably dead... Dont be dead... We still have to drag you into the woods and feed you to Cassie :(

Not quite yet, he's on a trip in Namalsk with the rest of the Royal Reds taking care of a doctor looking for the cure, they needed leadership as one of their Lieutenants fell ill. I put that in there because Colin wouldn't reveal his past on any kind of solid proof such as paper unless he was sure no-one would find it, I'll release how someone found his journal or is reading it in the future. Not quite sure how to get it out yet. When the Royal Reds return Colin will return :).

Ohhhh so you're the ones with Sophia? Or a different doctor?

We're with a different doctor, I didn't even realise that's what had happened with Sophia etc. We met this doctor in Chernarus and offered to protect him for information and access to the cure once it was achieved but the medical equipment we needed wasn't readily available in Chernarus, so we tried to head out to Namalsk to find a place named Object AI, apparently the equipment was still in operation over there :P.

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Guest Mike Golf   
Guest Mike Golf

I feel like I should add another "chapter" if you will to this, I've been away from Colin for a bit now and I am sincerely missing playing as him. Lets begin:

*You hear the sounds of heavy wind and rain hammering against your window, refusing you sleep. After tossing and turning for several hours you realise that tonight is going to be a sleepless one. After the realisation, you stand up out of the barrack bunk and take a wander through to the room acting as the DFAC in this day and age, you stick the kettle on and make a brew. The strong aroma of the coffee immediately brightens your senses. As you lay back down on your bunk, you think back to the small journal you found in the mud that day, near the mass grave. You decide to break it out and have another read, you pick up from where the stranger couldn't handle his emotions any longer:*

Alright, I don't know why I'm doing this to be perfectly honest. I enjoy letting my feelings out with my life story but I hate the memories it brings to the surface, it's hell. I suppose I should start where I left off, I'm going to miss out the whole ceremony for Emma and the kids, it's been locked away for a reason.

After the Government had apparently "contained" this outbreak of mutated human beings with a hunger for human flesh, I decided that without my work there's a strong chance that I'd take my own life, I had nothing to live for without it. I got together a small group of ex-servicemen that I knew were good heads to have on a team and we started undertaking small jobs, the usual kind of things: bodyguarding, private investigation etcetera etcetera. Until I got word from an old friend about the black market of freelance jobs, the pay was ten fold as was the risk, but for a man who had nothing to lose, what was risk? I sat the rest of the lads down and we had a long discussion about what route to head down. We were barely making any money as legal guns for hire, so why not switch to the "wild side" as the boys said a few times. I took my usual "fuck it" approach and went for it, it was the worst idea of my life.

We undertook our first contract, a slaughterhouse owner in a small Chernorussian town named Krasnostav. This man was a true pig, he took from the poor and fed the rich, the lowest of the low. Myself and my merry men got into the country without any problems, the weaponry attainment however, was another story. We were instructed to visit a weapons cache at a location that would be disclosed to us upon arrival, the cache itself was emptied the night before for transport. Being the only trained marksman it was I who would worry about the weaponry. We had to take out surveillance on the target with 5 pairs of general purpose binoculars and a short distance, 3km, unencrypted radio system with a notepad on one end. It was a shit storm. I eventually acquired the SV-98 Russian "sniper" rifle, it was a beauty. I'd never fired one so my first shot would be what's known as the shit shot. We always named it this due to the fact that if you miss it, you're in the shit. After about 4 days of surveillance, I had announced that day 5 would be the target day. I can remember the call as if it was yesterday, Clark coming over the radio with the "Sierra-1, Sierra-3 we have a possible visual. Break. That's a confirmed visual on Charlie-19 heading red-1, red-4. Charlie-19 is following schedule. Break. Sierra-1 confirm visual on red-2. Over." During my nightmares I still hear the entire radio chatter, my reply of "Sierra-1 confirms visual of Charlie-19 on red-2, over." Followed by the reply from Shepherd manning the radio, acting as head shed. "Sierra-1, Zero Alpha. Fire at will. Comms are yours, Sierra-1, over." my reply still runs off my lips sometimes to this day, just as I travel past the location. "Zero Alpha, Sierra-1 taking comms. Break. Visual on Charlie-19, heading red-2, red-4. Stand by," I took first pressure "Stand by." I had redone the drop, sway and noise calculations a hundred times, it was now or never. I squeezed the trigger to final pressure and the shot rung out through the hills. I continued to watch through my optic as the target hit the ground with what looked like an almighty thud, all of this over in just 2.14 seconds. I came back on the net with "Charlie-19 is down. All units exfil to RV-4, radio silence commences in 4, 3, 2, 1." I depressed the pressel switch and tore the gun down at an unhumane speed, the adrenaline was flowing, my mind was in overdrive. The next day was the problem.

That night we had the time of our lives, it was our first professional hit together. We may not be bad men but we were certainly a professional hit team now, we stuck with mercenaries, it sounded better. The drink was flowing, the laughter rung out for hours. I headed to bed at around 1am, after the day I had it was well deserved and needed. We awoke the next day to blood-curdling screams, the metallic tang in my mouth told me that blood was near, I could taste it let alone smell it. I jumped up and drew my Sigsauer P226 9mm sidearm, checked chamber and stuck two extra fully loaded magazines into my pocket. I hit safety off and took a peek outside, what I seen was devastation. Our camp was torn to shreds, Stone was lying on the floor, blood pissing out his leg. *you see small tear marks at the edge of the page, the man had been angry writing this* Before I knew it, I turned, assumed the firing position and double tapped something running towards me. It was thrown back with the impact of the rounds and had twisted during impact, its face was in the mud. Without sparing a second glance I turned about 110 degrees to my left, to find the rest of the men exiting their block with their weapons made ready. I drew them over to me, reverting back to hand signals. Everyone was in performance mode, not one looked twice at our man on the ground. This was the defining moment in most of our lives, the day of the first major outbreak, it just so fucking happened that we were here. How lucky, huh? From here on out, we could never return home. It drove most of the men to drink and drugs, rather than working. They're still here, in Chernarus. Only Eddie stuck by me, the rest of them fucked off to kill and rob whoever they liked. *you see some smudges and a ripped corner of the page at this point, you wonder what went through this mans mind, remembering that these men were his family* Ahh, the good old team, what I would give to have us all back together again. I miss them more than life itself, really. Ivan, Boris, Remy, Joe, they're all good guys but I just can't bring myself to trust them as I trusted my men. Well fuck, now I'm out here without Ivan or any of the other lads that I can really trust apart from Boris, Eddie's still in Chernarus and I'm working with a bunch of monkeys, for pennies really. Payment doesn't matter in this world now, what matters now is friendship. Money has no value, what would I do with it? Pop down to the corner shop run by the local zombies and pick up some snacks? Friendship is what's key now, people you can rely on to keep your life going, people that won't turn at the first sign of danger. I guess that's enough for tonight, book. Time for some shut-eye, I suppose.

*The man has underlined the bottom of the page, he was probably just doodling. You take in what has happened now, sipping at your coffee. You understand what really matters to Colin in this day and age now, he is beyond payment. He does it all for friendship, companionship, he doesn't want to spend his remaining years running from infected beings alone. You decide to stick the book down and go for an early morning jog, appreciating the fact that the infection has ran its course and you no longer live in a time like this.*

Well ladies and gents, as the last time this is my first attempt at written RP and am still learning every time I write. Any and all feedback would be appreciated, if you think I should keep it going, let me know. It's good to hear what you guys think of Colins life and where I could expand on or lose some detail around.

Until next time!

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