53 Recent Deviations
Featured: ROKAF, F-4E Phantom II
[DS] Darren Moore
Date of Birth - 1st March, 2467.
Full Name - Darren Riley Moore.
Place of Birth - Saint Balthere Hospital, Ulster.
Hair Color - Blonde/Dark Grey.
Eye Color - Dull Green.
Facial and Features - Light stubble, scar on chin.
Looks like : https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/438651495278317568/vSdBXtEL.jpeg
Nationality : Irish.
Parentage : Human (Father), Human (Mother).
Ancestral sigil : http://www.tattooshunt.com/images/53/celtic-deer-tattoo-design.jpg
Full Body Features - Many scars, few tattoos :Irish flag on back of left leg.
Tribal wires going down left arm. ------------------------
Despite being born in Dublin, Darren Moore's family travelled all over Ireland during his youth, before finally returning to Dublin 7 years after he was born. Raised by an alcoholic father and a mother that was constantly working, Moore was given a lot of freedom as a child and as a result ended up being involved in numerous fights
Lily In the Battlefield- Chapter 2CHAPTER 2- Soul of the damned
"Hurry up Erika, you don't want to be left behind!" Hans yelled from their Leopard 1A5's driving hatch.
"Coming!" Erika coming while still trying to wear her tank flak vest. With an agility of a well-trained athlete, she hopped onto the tank and stood on top of the turret, with Erich greeting him, also standing on top of the turret.
"Next time... Be quick when taking that dump" Erich pats her heads hard.
"Sorry" Erika naively smirked as she put her beret cap back on and hopped into her gunner compartment.
"Alright we're done here!" Erich yelled to his platoon while signalling that his tank is read; like the rest of his platoon tanks "All tanks, move out!" He signalled the other tanks as he hopped inside the commander compartment, standing on top of his seat watching his platoon's tanks firing up their engines.
"Hans, move out" Erich ordered to move the tank forward.
Momentarily, other tanks moved out. Their platoon consist of 2 Leopard 1A5, 1 Leopard 1A4,
Drakojan Skies =5= Warhound
11:30, April 29th, 2518.
Fithkaran Peninsula, Kagrumez.
Over the past few days, the team, known to the Nachenyu as the "1st Drakojan Knights" as they were christened by J'zarga, had been spending their time preparing for future conflicts. After the battle in the desert, most of the team's electronic warfighting gear had broken and fried up aswell as ruining the uniforms a bit, making the helmets and some of the GPS maps useless, so they decided to just resort to going without headgear and navigating old-school. The morning sun was clear overhead. Robb, MacKenzie and their teams were going through their fitness paces to keep themselves in shape. Ross, Rocket, MacKenzie, Robb and Dallas were in the lead as the rest of the teams trailed behind them. As Ross and Rocket reached the finish of the course - a circle-route of the city from the cliffs to the top of the hills, Neteru commented, "Im
This is the gallery you submit all your weapon art they can be weapons you have made up your self they don't have to be real ones.
This is where you submit Art work featuring a soldier ... or more, Again they don't have to exist so if you have made your own country as my brother Darksnipermatt has you can draw your soldier in the uniform of his/her imaginary country.
This is where you submit art of Vehicles like tanks and so on again they can be completely made up
This is where you submit pictures involving monster and so on Like a werewolf soldier or a soldier battling a dragon for example. But they don't just have to be werewolves and dragons they can be any thing even some thing you made up as long as the picture has a military theme to it!
Have fun creating your art work!
Co-founder of MilitaryAddicts
Fire in Provence: Part OneFire in Provence: Part One by FuryofthePeople
September 19, 1944, Somewhere In Provence.
The Panther rolled through the mud, lagging behind the rest of the column. There were three men inside. They were silent, 23 year old Oberfeldwebel Hans “Ember” Immermann peered through the periscope, while 19 year old Gefreiter Karl Raaths had his hands on the joysticks, moving the lumbering beast forward. 20 year old Gefreiter Friedrich Mannheim sat in the gunner’s seat, next to the fallen loader. The vehicle was pockmarked with ricochet marks and small holes. Outside, on top of the engine compartment, a 19 year old Schütze known only as “Lone” stared across the expanse, the beautiful terrain in stark contrast to the knocked-out vehicles on either side of the road. Immermann looked down at a picture of his s
Fire in Provence: Part TwoFire in Provence: Part Two by FuryofthePeople
The shot ricocheted off the Panther’s angled armor. Soaring up into the sky, and gravity did the rest. Lone slammed another round into the breech, and Mannheim pulled the firing lever. The round soared through the air, striking the Firefly’s ammunition hold, sending the turret flying. The driver of the stricken vehicle stuck his head up, but was decapitated by flying shrapnel.
“Mein Gott.” Immermann uttered.
Lone was about to load another round when a shell cut through the turret like butter, cutting off his hand, but not detonating.
“AAUUGGHH!” Lone screamed in agony as he dropped the shell. Arming, the shell rolled to the wall of the hull.
“BAIL OUT!” Immermann screamed at the top of his lungs, “BAIL OUT!” Immermann aided Lone in getting out of the doomed tank. Mannheim soon followed, and Raaths climbed out of his hatch, jumping to the side. Just as Raaths hit the ground, the shell detonated, ripping the tank apart. Th
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