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[OOC] Souls of Steel: A Giant Mecha RP
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We as the human race would fight and bicker among each other over the slightest things... a bit funny, isn't it? Since the time that we could walk we would kill and lay waste to each other over petty things such as territory and religion, even putting our ideals on the line while at the same time back at home our people would fight over trivial things.
Justice… equality… hunger… appearances… whether someone died for the right cause or not...
Anything you could imagine with your insignificant head we fought over... and many died.
You would think for such an advanced race compared to all the primitive animals that were alive at the time that we’d be far better, wouldn't we? No. The truth was that we were nothing than primates ourselves; animals who could not go beyond our differences to unite and join one another and create a better world.
In the end, we just destroyed our planet through both war and pollution… but I suppose you too know that, don't you? But now, we have out civilization back... we have everything that we want to protect.
Though, we all still remember in the year 2267 when our world was nothing more than a nuclear dump with only a few patches of habitable lands left. It wasn't until a man with technology unlike any other finally united the Earth forces under a single banner through brute force by killing anyone who opposed him did we finally become whole. He built an impenetrable fortress and had his forces cultivate and secure whatever lands could be saved by using devices meant to preserve the lands that were untainted by the countless wars we held. Communities were built within these lands, before steps to move forward were introduced.
In the year 2321, the man who united Earth led expeditions from Earth to cultivate new planets with flagships each containing the newest development; the Framewerks. These were powerful mechanized piloted units that can only be used by a select few individuals after years of training, but they allowed us to conquer planets with ease.
For years we slowly captured planets and things were working, we were finally at peace and enjoying things for we thought we were alone in the universe.
Or so we had thought...
Years had passed and in the year 2578, we finally lost communication with a human colony on our outer rim all of a sudden. At first, we thought it was just an error with the signal… until seconds later another colony tuned in and told us that they were being attacked.
We suddenly found ourselves thrown into a war with an unknown alien race for years, with all of our communications being cut off with all of our outer rim planets. Despite all the reinforcements we sent, we never heard from them… we could only assume the worst had happened.
It was only in the year of 2590 that we finally were able to make establish contact with one of our outer rim planets due to the efforts of the man who united Earth who was dedicated on find out what happened... but what we had found, was something far, far worse than discovering hell itself.
They were slain by an alien race called the Cruxi… and they had technology and firepower that was on a whole new level compared to us. Plasma weapons, Wormhole-using spaceships, soldiers equipped with personal barriers… you name it, they probably had it. However, their numbers weren’t as vast as ours. So we threw ourselves at them in order to keep them at bay, and to keep them from reaching more of our home worlds.
Though a strategy like that can only last so long until all of humanity starts to believe that we’re fighting a losing war… but that’s where you come in, Cadet.
You’re here to clean up our petty mistakes of our pasts and to fight our battle. That’s the sad truth of the matter. Remember how I mentioned those Frameworks earlier, right? Well, you along with others have been chosen to pilot experimental Frameworks in hopes of turning the tides of this war.
Truth be told, I don’t envy you… because I feel you’re going to be thrown straight into the horrors of things… I just pray you make it out of this alive, even if we don’t.
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Link to the interest check
Welcome to Souls of Steel (or SoS for short), reboot of Hearts of Metal. In this, pilots are recruited to pilot massive, Evangelion-sized war machines called Framewerks that are humanity's last hope against the Cruxi menace. The combat effectiveness of the pilots are determined with two attributes: Experience and Synchronization Rate. These will be randomized for every pilot, but are affected by their age: older pilots have more experience, while younger pilots have a higher synchronization rate.
To have a character sheet submitted, you must first submit your pilot's age, and after I have provided the experience and synchronization rate you may submit the sheet with them included.
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Experience determines how familiar the pilots is with their Framewerk, and how well they know its strengths and weaknesses. More experienced pilots can have more weapons and miscellaneous equipment installed into their Framewerks, and can perform more advanced tactics. One of the requirements for becoming a squad officer is thus a high experience value.
1-40% is the level where the pilot doesn't even know how to drive a car. They have poor awareness of their surroundings and a chance of fumbling with the controls, resulting in various mishaps such as opening fire on a random target, falling down, activating thrusters or, worst of them all, activating the Framewerk's self-destruct sequence. These pilots are usually only granted access to a Framewerk due to a high synchronization rate that compensates for their ineptitude.
40-64% is the level of a person familiar with driving military vehicles and applying that skill in order to at least get the Framewerk moving and shooting, although at a ponderous pace. They can run and shoot without making mistakes, but they are likely to take the wrong direction or miss their target, even at close range. They can also be caught unaware by a flanking maneuver. These pilots are usually relegated to support or siege units where the need for more complex maneuvers isn't as highly required.
65-79% is the average level of experience for a pilot. They never fail basic actions such as running or shooting, and also have the potential for more difficult actions. They can successfully perform an orbital drop without damaging their Framewerk, and they can use their thrusters to fly in the air without crashing. These pilots are assigned to a variety of roles.
80-89% is level of the more experienced pilots, able to pull off even more advanced actions such as running backwards while shooting, sliding into cover, and dodge projectiles while flying. They can also observe the battlefield and note enemy formations as well as their tactics. These pilots are the most likely to be assigned to the front-lines to lead an example to the other members of their squad, and are also granted more cumbersome weaponry.
90-94% is the very best when it comes to pilot experience, and the pilots with these levels are top graduates in their class. They can weave through the battlefield with skilled superiority and calm expertise, having performed these maneuvers in simulations countless times. They can note enemy movements and react to them appropriately, and given proper battlefield data, can even predict them. Pilots of 95-100% Have so much experience that they can identify Cruxi technology.
1-40% is the level where the pilot doesn't even know how to drive a car. They have poor awareness of their surroundings and a chance of fumbling with the controls, resulting in various mishaps such as opening fire on a random target, falling down, activating thrusters or, worst of them all, activating the Framewerk's self-destruct sequence. These pilots are usually only granted access to a Framewerk due to a high synchronization rate that compensates for their ineptitude.
40-64% is the level of a person familiar with driving military vehicles and applying that skill in order to at least get the Framewerk moving and shooting, although at a ponderous pace. They can run and shoot without making mistakes, but they are likely to take the wrong direction or miss their target, even at close range. They can also be caught unaware by a flanking maneuver. These pilots are usually relegated to support or siege units where the need for more complex maneuvers isn't as highly required.
65-79% is the average level of experience for a pilot. They never fail basic actions such as running or shooting, and also have the potential for more difficult actions. They can successfully perform an orbital drop without damaging their Framewerk, and they can use their thrusters to fly in the air without crashing. These pilots are assigned to a variety of roles.
80-89% is level of the more experienced pilots, able to pull off even more advanced actions such as running backwards while shooting, sliding into cover, and dodge projectiles while flying. They can also observe the battlefield and note enemy formations as well as their tactics. These pilots are the most likely to be assigned to the front-lines to lead an example to the other members of their squad, and are also granted more cumbersome weaponry.
90-94% is the very best when it comes to pilot experience, and the pilots with these levels are top graduates in their class. They can weave through the battlefield with skilled superiority and calm expertise, having performed these maneuvers in simulations countless times. They can note enemy movements and react to them appropriately, and given proper battlefield data, can even predict them. Pilots of 95-100% Have so much experience that they can identify Cruxi technology.
The higher one's synchro rate is the more in tune one feels with their Framewerk- the more it feels like it's an extension of one's body rather than just a hunk of metal covering you and protecting you as a tool. You will feel as if you and the Framewerk are 'one and the same' rather than you controlling something.
-1~100% is the negative synchro rate, something that rarely happens, but can happen. As a pilot's state of mind deteriorates on the battlefield, the experimental Framewerks will respond to this as a result in order to protect their pilot and enter a state of mind called "CULLING". The Framewerk will enter a Berserk-like state and proceed to destroy and eliminate everything that it deems an immediate threat to the pilot's sanity and safety in order to keep them safe, even if it means killing allies or foes alike. What does mean is the Framewerk itself will take control and proceed to rampage on the battlefield.
1-40% or the danger zone. At most times this is where your Framewerk will begin to go into a 'lag' state of mind, or will halt it's orders and proceed to do things of its own. Usually this is because the Pilot is in a ill-state of mind or unconscious, but there are unknown reasons that have been yet to discovered for this odd behavior in the experimental Frameworks. Nonetheless, it is highly advised that the pilot doesn't engage in stressful operations before their ratio drops to the lower stage.
40-64% is where the Framewerk will start to feel clunky and begin to feel more and more like a burden and a tool as you reach the 40% tile. You will have to pilot your Framewerk more by 'force' rather than as an extension of your body than anything else.
65-79% is roughly, give or take, the average synch ratio of most Pilots who have piloted a Framework after many years- those who fall into this ranking are usually those who have survived a few fights against the Cruxi. To start here it does not at all mean you are lacking, but it means are you in fact stronger than the average soldier by a long mile. Being pilots who aged 14-16 and are able to pull off this synch ratio is a gift. You are able to pull off well-thought out maneuvers and move in ways that would take soldiers years to pull off.
From 80-89% you would feel that the Framewerk is like your own body and that you can perform things you couldn't before.
90-94% and onward is when you can hear noises from the experimental Framewerk... almost like you are no longer alone on the battlefield. How you handle this is dependent on your characters.
95%+: You unlock the special ability of your Framewerk; it's true power.
-1~100% is the negative synchro rate, something that rarely happens, but can happen. As a pilot's state of mind deteriorates on the battlefield, the experimental Framewerks will respond to this as a result in order to protect their pilot and enter a state of mind called "CULLING". The Framewerk will enter a Berserk-like state and proceed to destroy and eliminate everything that it deems an immediate threat to the pilot's sanity and safety in order to keep them safe, even if it means killing allies or foes alike. What does mean is the Framewerk itself will take control and proceed to rampage on the battlefield.
1-40% or the danger zone. At most times this is where your Framewerk will begin to go into a 'lag' state of mind, or will halt it's orders and proceed to do things of its own. Usually this is because the Pilot is in a ill-state of mind or unconscious, but there are unknown reasons that have been yet to discovered for this odd behavior in the experimental Frameworks. Nonetheless, it is highly advised that the pilot doesn't engage in stressful operations before their ratio drops to the lower stage.
40-64% is where the Framewerk will start to feel clunky and begin to feel more and more like a burden and a tool as you reach the 40% tile. You will have to pilot your Framewerk more by 'force' rather than as an extension of your body than anything else.
65-79% is roughly, give or take, the average synch ratio of most Pilots who have piloted a Framework after many years- those who fall into this ranking are usually those who have survived a few fights against the Cruxi. To start here it does not at all mean you are lacking, but it means are you in fact stronger than the average soldier by a long mile. Being pilots who aged 14-16 and are able to pull off this synch ratio is a gift. You are able to pull off well-thought out maneuvers and move in ways that would take soldiers years to pull off.
From 80-89% you would feel that the Framewerk is like your own body and that you can perform things you couldn't before.
90-94% and onward is when you can hear noises from the experimental Framewerk... almost like you are no longer alone on the battlefield. How you handle this is dependent on your characters.
95%+: You unlock the special ability of your Framewerk; it's true power.
Everyone's synchro rates upon starting a mission start at a hard value I've noted specifically, so you may want to keep that in your character sheets somewhere. However, while their hard values do not change during a mission, their soft values may do so depending on their state of mind during the battle or what is happening.
After each mission, depending on how well the mission went, I'll tell everyone how well their hard Synchro rate and experience improved depending on how their soft values or 'mental' state has improved based based upon a die roll, although I may or may not add or subtract modifiers based on how they acted and if things went well or poorly.
Remember, we are at war here against a very powerful race that has us pushed into a corner... so things may or may not go as planned, and how you all handle that in situations like that will effect your characters mental strain. This is, after all, a RP that can quickly switch be a calm to be horrific on the fly. So how your characters handle that will be tricky.
The numbers I will give you are hard synchro rates; they are the rates you'll start combat with. In combat your synchro will be soft, and prone to fluctuations depending on what happens to the Frame and inside the pilot's head. Once combat is over the hard synchro will change depending on how the soft synchro behaved. For someone to achieve negative hard synchro means the pilot has gone at least slightly mentally disturbed or the Frame smashed into a cube/ripped apart. However, experience can only be lost due to special circumstances, such as after a disciplinary mind modification procedure.
After each mission, depending on how well the mission went, I'll tell everyone how well their hard Synchro rate and experience improved depending on how their soft values or 'mental' state has improved based based upon a die roll, although I may or may not add or subtract modifiers based on how they acted and if things went well or poorly.
Remember, we are at war here against a very powerful race that has us pushed into a corner... so things may or may not go as planned, and how you all handle that in situations like that will effect your characters mental strain. This is, after all, a RP that can quickly switch be a calm to be horrific on the fly. So how your characters handle that will be tricky.
The numbers I will give you are hard synchro rates; they are the rates you'll start combat with. In combat your synchro will be soft, and prone to fluctuations depending on what happens to the Frame and inside the pilot's head. Once combat is over the hard synchro will change depending on how the soft synchro behaved. For someone to achieve negative hard synchro means the pilot has gone at least slightly mentally disturbed or the Frame smashed into a cube/ripped apart. However, experience can only be lost due to special circumstances, such as after a disciplinary mind modification procedure.
Pilot Sheet
- Name: Your name and possible nickname.
- Appearance: What does your character look like? Pictures are highly preferred, but a text description of a couple paragraphs is also fine.
- Gender: Should be self-explanatory.
- Age: Between the ages available (14-25), what is your given age? Note that this has an effect on your character's experience and synchronization ratio.
- Experience: I will provide this and the one below after you give me the pilot's age, and you may not submit the sheet before you have both this and the pilot's synchronization rate included.
- Synchronization Rate: Same as above.
- Personality: Tell me how you act, and what makes you tick. Lunatics can go to the moon.
- Background: Tell me about your past. Was your homeworld attacked by the Cruxi, and you were a survivor? Or did you join the fight for other causes? Note that Earth has been uninhabited for a couple of centuries.
- Notable Deaths: This will be significant later. Who among your friends and family have died since the war? Everyone must have at least one.
- Other things: If there is anything else you believe needs sharing, do so here.
Framewerk Sheet
- Framewerk Code Name: All Frames are given unit numbers based on production code, however the ones we are piloting are given actual names since they are rumored to be sentient beings. What is your Frames' name?
- Appearance: Fairly obvious. Pictures are highly preferred, but a text description of a couple paragraphs is also fine.
- Number of Framewerk Systems: How much your Framewerk is equipped with, determined by the pilot's experience. All levels have one signature weapon system and one secondary, while 80-89% are granted one more secondary and 90-94% one more primary weapon system on top of that. List the two as separate numbers.
- Signature Weapon System: What is your Framewerk’s signature weapon at all times; the stuff it can’t trade away since it is built in. This is essentially your Framewerk's bread and butter at all times. This is something that makes your machine unique from all others. You could have a Frame with four-arms capable of using multiple weapons, or a Frame using attack drones, or perhaps an artillery based Frame that can cause destruction from afar... or say you'd rather stay in the rear and snipe things from afar, or one that charges into the front-lines with a melee weapon, or maybe even focus on a support role such as scanning or repairing. These are such examples, and this will be your primary fighting style for the RP.
- Secondary Weapon System: This is the Framework’s other weapons; another weapon it can’t trade away since it is built in as a specialized device to complement the signature weaponry. These are light-weight attachments that are instrumental for missions, such as additional thrusters, barriers, smaller weapons, additional subsystems and so on.
- Weight Class: Framewerks can be anything from lightweight speedsters to heavyweight tanks, with varying amounts of firepower, speed and armor. Out of the primary weight classes (Light, Medium, Heavy, or something in-between), what type of build does your Framewerk have? Note that it should be kept realistic; if you want more offensive power and flight speed, it will result in a loss of armor, or less offensive power if you want more speed and armor, for example. Other combinations of attributes are also possible. All Framewerks are equipped with thrusters capable of space-travel regardless of the build.
- Special Ability: All Frameworks have a special and unique ability that they possess that makes them powerful weapons of war... however, they haven't been unlocked yet. So, for now, keep this section blank.
Some ground-rules:
1. Please wait for at least two posts before making a new post.
2. If you need to be absent for a while due to real-life issues or anything else, please inform in the thread or through a PM so I'll know. Thank you for being a cool guy.
3. Collaboration is recommended for dialogue and/or combat between characters. Meetingwords is a good place to make them, for example.
4. Military rules apply (no possession of weaponry or sharp objects while in the base, superiors must be greeted with sir or their respective rank and so on).
5. Site rules apply.
6. Have fun, and ask me if there's anything on your mind.
Cruxi Base Map:
Glossary:
Evil Snowman Proptery of Demonic Raven
Member
Seen
2 yrs ago
So... @Ariamis I would like to give my characters age which will be 17. I'll be submitting my character quite bit later after I get home form work and clean it up.
SillyGoy Goius Sillius
Member
Seen
3 yrs ago
Also interested in joining this RP but intend to post a character later. He will be 23 years of age. Requesting a sync. ratio of 70 - 75% in a calm environment, if you don't mind.
GM
@Evil Snowman
Experience: 74%
Synchronization Rate: 65%
@SillyGoy
Experience: 47%
Synchronization Rate: 55%
You got pretty unlucky with the experience, but the high age compensated for that nicely.
Experience: 74%
Synchronization Rate: 65%
@SillyGoy
Experience: 47%
Synchronization Rate: 55%
You got pretty unlucky with the experience, but the high age compensated for that nicely.
Conflagration I'm burnin' up here!
Member
Seen
9 yrs ago
So since we're asking for sync and experiance while we write up our characters, I'll likewise request a roll :)
Say... for somebody aged 22?
Say... for somebody aged 22?
GM
@Conflagration
Experience: 47%
Synchronization Rate: 67%
Very similar to the first rolls, interesting. Or not, I misread it.
Experience: 47%
Synchronization Rate: 67%
Very similar to the first rolls, interesting. Or not, I misread it.
Apollosarcher Knight with the Rowan Shield
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
@Ariamis Thinking a nineteen year old pilot.
Commodore Robot Transient Hatemonger
Member
Seen
10 mos ago
Roll for a 20 year old?
GM
@Apollosarcher
Experience: 55%
Synchronization Rate: 72%
@Commodore Robot
Experience: 36%
Synchronization Rate: 51%
Experience: 55%
Synchronization Rate: 72%
@Commodore Robot
Experience: 36%
Synchronization Rate: 51%
Commodore Robot Transient Hatemonger
Member
Seen
10 mos ago
SillyGoy Goius Sillius
Member
Seen
3 yrs ago
Is this good, bossman? This is fresh from the press so there's bound to be lots of mistakes, but I'll get around to proofreading it later.
Name: Harold Buell
A young man who would blend seamlessly into any crowd of servicemen were it not for the burn scars that crawl all over the length of his left arm, Harold is a fine specimen of modern soldier, with a lean, and slightly toned musculature that belies great strength. Brown of hair and blue of eye, his features are primarily Caucasian and rather mild, except for his cheeks, which are gaunt and rather sunken, giving him an air of grimness. His exceptionally pale skin from being born into a family of station-dwellers adds to this effect.
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Rank: Lieutenant, Junior Grade
Experience: 47%
Synchronization Rate: 55%
Personality:
Despite his slightly vampiric appearance, or perhaps complementing it, Harold's sense of humor is primarily sardonic when among friends and none at all when among strangers or new acquaintances. This suits his demeanor as a calm and patient man who thinks before he acts and talks less than average. As he is at the forefront of humanity's struggle against the alien menace, there is little occasion for him to smile, and people may only witness sheer anger at the height of battle as his peak emotional response. Nonetheless, he is a loyal comrade who, having known the pain of loss, will go to great lengths to save his brothers and sisters-in-arms and assist them otherwise in the field of battle.
Harold is fond of literature. A short novel may often be found on his person while he engages in light reading during free time.
Background:
Harold was born to Donnell and Caitlyn Buell as the youngest sibling of an older brother and sister aboard Sigma VII-E56, a habitation station orbiting the gas giant Rostosov in the Pugh System. As the planet's orbit was quite some distance from its mother star, the people of Sigma VII lived at all times in artificial lighting conditions, as the sun's luminosity was often too dim. With the Buell family living in the station steadfastly for several generations, their skin was often paler than most, and they shared this complexion with other established clans. Harold, through overwhelming genetic chance, inherited this trait, and early on he could determine Old Blood and New Blood in the station by the phenotypes of the people around him.
He went through a mostly normal childhood, attending primary school with the infinitely stretching helium clouds of the gas giant Rostosov just beyond the diamantine-glass window. He was often distracted by the planet's weather even though it was an everyday spectacle, due to the frantic energy the sickly blue gases displayed as they roiled and curled inwards and outwards in an eternal storm, and from the occasional aurorae burst when Pugh's solar output rose for short periods of time. Scolded more than just a few times by the Mistress for being distracted during lectures, a fascination for space travel began to take root in the young Harold's mind, and it wasn't long before he yearned to walk across the stars.
His first taste of void travel came during his secondary education, when youths were trained in drills involving extra-vehicular activity, basic first aid, and rudimentary station repairs. As the stations around Rostosov centered their economies around mining Helium-3 from the giant and either exporting it raw or as refined starship fuel, industrial occupations were held in high esteem. Harold's Sigma VII was no exception, so when he graduated at age 16 and began his apprenticeship, he chose one that allowed him to operate a Monitor and Control Overseer that hovered among mining probes in Rostosov's upper atmosphere in order to detect and fix any problems coming from them. This choice combined three things: one, family tradition, as Buells for generations have worked in Sigma's mining industry; two, the fulfillment of what would be expected from a young man such as himself in the society he was raised in; and three, his fascination for space, even if he could only go as far as the other stations.
Although he did acquire a love for literature when he found out that, yes, it was uncommon for a mining probe to fail and he needed something to pass the time, Harold was never one for flights of fancy. He knew, as his family and peers did, that he will never be a glorious captain in the Fleet, leading a strike force of Battlecruisers and Carriers to victory against the alien menace, because he was merely a member of the working class. Content to live his life in the shadow of great, cerulean Rostosov, he got a big break when a bunch of Navy officers suddenly visited the quiet, rustic Sigma Stations, whose combined population for 20,000 made for a ridiculously small recruiting pool when compared to urban centers like Sirius Secundus, which boasted sprawling, massive cities wherein up to a billion people lived. He was 19 years old during this time.
They stuck out like sore thumbs among the working-class crowd, with their pure white uniforms made of real silk, steel-tipped gazes and proud bearing whose manner bordered arrogance. Medals shone on their chests, more than Harold could count and of such variety that it left him bewildered. These men, who fought for humanity and its place among the stars seemed like aliens to the young man, but when they spoke of seeing the length and breadth of the galaxy and pushing back the Cruxi tide, his adventurous side couldn't be suppressed. The moment they asked for volunteers, Harold raised his hand immediately.
Boot camp at Bastion Alexandria proved to be tough on Harold, as he was aspiring to be a starfighter pilot, whose training regimen demanded only the best from cadets. The schoolwork that entailed officer training also proved to be difficult for the young man of a rustic background. Regardless, he pushed through, although only scoring average to above average in all exams, whereas quite a few of his friends excelled. However, Harold was among the third that appeared to have the right stuff for voidborne combat, as opposed to the other two-thirds of his batch that flopped out. In the culmination of a year of intense effort, he graduated, received his Golden Wings badge, got massively drunk with his friends, and then got handed the worst possible post for a pilot with a shining, freshly-minted Ensign bar:
Instead of being sent to the front, he was being held back to instruct a new batch of recruits.
Understandably, he was deeply bitter about the whole thing, and he shared this feeling of resentment with others who'd also been held back. Harold and the rest of them did not spend a year training and studying - vomiting in the simulator cockpit and vomiting in the real cockpit - just so their friends could get medals and glory while they got absolutely none. Buell and the others soon learned, however, even through thorough government censors, that their batchmates took part in a failed offensive that saw most of them dead, and the Carrier wherefrom their strike group operated, destroyed.
Somewhat humbled by that grim news, Harold and his fellow instructors nonetheless went about their duties with repressed frustration and ire. However, whereas some others vented by yelling at recruits or forcing them to do another 2-hour solo flight with only emergency and back-up navigational tools active, Harold instead joked, and his dark, sardonic humor, aimed mostly at the cadets, proved somehow popular among them. Such was the culture in the classrooms and training hangars of Bastion Alexandria.
Halfway into the schoolyear, however, there was a change in the major naval base: assets and scraps of what remained of what was once whole battlefleets were being pulled back from the Halo Stars in a somewhat hasty and disorganized effort at regrouping broken forces from shattered fronts. The grimness of the war situation was only made clear to Harold when his eyes beheld the Augustus, a massive ship-of-the-line, warping in with barely a quarter of her engine block functioning and almost sliced in half by some sort of beam weapon that had raked her amidships. As the buildup of Human forces increased and reserves from stations to the rear of Alexandria were called up, he and his fellow instructors hounded the recordkeepers with questions of their friends, the men they'd graduated with - and it turned out that they were all dead.
Not soon after that revelation, the Cruxi attacked. It was an organized, deliberate effort on their part, conducting a sophisticated operation with some of their finest warships and soldiers. While the Siege of Alexandria was mainly a fleet operation, the base itself did see boarders. It was there that Harold first met the enemy, and killed his first.
He, his fellow instructors and their students of course did not compare with the Marines in surface warfare against the boarders, but in the few sorties they made in the opening stages of the battle, they surprisingly acquitted themselves with distinction, taking down a large number of Cruxi boarding pods and some of their escorting fighters. Taking some losses, Harold's strike group managed to stall the Cruxi ground forces' operations for some time. Continuing to do sweeps and harassment tactics against the smaller enemy ships while the dreadnoughts brawled it out in massive gun battles as the day passed by, they eventually found themselves whittled down. And with the arrival of a Cruxi carrier, the few dozen remaning fighters of what was once an air group of over six hundred were given the order to abort mission.
Complying, Harold lead his team into hasty crash-landings into Alexandria's battered hull. Protecting the crash sites were human Marines whom they joined in the Station's defense. Harold managed to kill two Cruxi stormtroopers before his inexperience in surface operations lead to him being wounded by a plasma grenade that had detonated towards his left side. With serious burns, he fell down unconscious, but was thankfully kept from dying at the hands of a veteran Marine medic. Even with modern medical regeneration technology, the extent of his wounds was such that his left arm never got rid of the ugly, curling burn scars.
Harold, along with the rest of the servicemen who fought to save Alexandria, were then regarded as heroes by the government, for without their tenacity and sheer strength of will, the enemy would not have been delayed to the point where Battlefleet Primaris arrived as it did and turned the tide in favor of humanity. For Harold's personal conduct during the battle, he was awarded the Knight's Cross for Valor, and promoted from Ensign to Lieutenant (jg).
His wounds, however, were more serious than first thought. Rather than just leaving behind superficial burn scars, it was found that some nerve damage was irreparable - and to a pilot of starfighters, whose controls require the most delicate haptic inputs, this basically meant that the ability to fly such craft now vanished.
Harold was devastated. For days, he lay stewing in the hospital bed, mourning both his lost friends and the loss of his ability to avenge them. He then received an unlikely visitor, however, in the form of no-one but the sector's supreme commander himself! When the junior officer saw the aging man enter, he made haste to salute as best he could with most of his body wrapped in bandages, but Admiral Mikawa proved to be a friendly, genial personality who didn't care much for military formality.
Their conversation was a short one, not even reaching ten minutes. The Admiral told Harold that he greatly admired his courage and valor during the battle for Alexandria, and understood that the younger man was devastated at his loss of the ability to fly a starfighter. So then, Mikawa offered him a chance to fighting again, this time in another unit, piloting a different vehicle.
Curious, Harold asked for details. He was met with a curt reply that stated quite plainly that he was asking for classified information. The Admiral, still smiling, nonetheless produced a document and a pen, and held it out to Harold.
"Just sign here," he said. "And you will be able to fight again."
Harold, even if struggling, did so. Repressing grunts of pain and keeping his face as straight as possible, he scrawled his signature in the most hideous chicken-scratch. Mikawa, however, was pleased by this sight, and calmly informed Harold that he will be receiving new marching orders soon.
Notable Deaths:
-Lt. Cmdr. Hugo Kimmel - Commanding Officer
-Lt. (sg) George Pius - Friend
-Lt. (jg) Revak Tomiel - Friend
-Ens. Vernon Micheel - Friend
-Ens. Rubik Sarpedon - Friend
-Ens. Frederik Suter - Friend
-Ens. Umar Torgaddon - Friend
A young man who would blend seamlessly into any crowd of servicemen were it not for the burn scars that crawl all over the length of his left arm, Harold is a fine specimen of modern soldier, with a lean, and slightly toned musculature that belies great strength. Brown of hair and blue of eye, his features are primarily Caucasian and rather mild, except for his cheeks, which are gaunt and rather sunken, giving him an air of grimness. His exceptionally pale skin from being born into a family of station-dwellers adds to this effect.
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Rank: Lieutenant, Junior Grade
Experience: 47%
Synchronization Rate: 55%
Personality:
Despite his slightly vampiric appearance, or perhaps complementing it, Harold's sense of humor is primarily sardonic when among friends and none at all when among strangers or new acquaintances. This suits his demeanor as a calm and patient man who thinks before he acts and talks less than average. As he is at the forefront of humanity's struggle against the alien menace, there is little occasion for him to smile, and people may only witness sheer anger at the height of battle as his peak emotional response. Nonetheless, he is a loyal comrade who, having known the pain of loss, will go to great lengths to save his brothers and sisters-in-arms and assist them otherwise in the field of battle.
Harold is fond of literature. A short novel may often be found on his person while he engages in light reading during free time.
Background:
Harold was born to Donnell and Caitlyn Buell as the youngest sibling of an older brother and sister aboard Sigma VII-E56, a habitation station orbiting the gas giant Rostosov in the Pugh System. As the planet's orbit was quite some distance from its mother star, the people of Sigma VII lived at all times in artificial lighting conditions, as the sun's luminosity was often too dim. With the Buell family living in the station steadfastly for several generations, their skin was often paler than most, and they shared this complexion with other established clans. Harold, through overwhelming genetic chance, inherited this trait, and early on he could determine Old Blood and New Blood in the station by the phenotypes of the people around him.
He went through a mostly normal childhood, attending primary school with the infinitely stretching helium clouds of the gas giant Rostosov just beyond the diamantine-glass window. He was often distracted by the planet's weather even though it was an everyday spectacle, due to the frantic energy the sickly blue gases displayed as they roiled and curled inwards and outwards in an eternal storm, and from the occasional aurorae burst when Pugh's solar output rose for short periods of time. Scolded more than just a few times by the Mistress for being distracted during lectures, a fascination for space travel began to take root in the young Harold's mind, and it wasn't long before he yearned to walk across the stars.
His first taste of void travel came during his secondary education, when youths were trained in drills involving extra-vehicular activity, basic first aid, and rudimentary station repairs. As the stations around Rostosov centered their economies around mining Helium-3 from the giant and either exporting it raw or as refined starship fuel, industrial occupations were held in high esteem. Harold's Sigma VII was no exception, so when he graduated at age 16 and began his apprenticeship, he chose one that allowed him to operate a Monitor and Control Overseer that hovered among mining probes in Rostosov's upper atmosphere in order to detect and fix any problems coming from them. This choice combined three things: one, family tradition, as Buells for generations have worked in Sigma's mining industry; two, the fulfillment of what would be expected from a young man such as himself in the society he was raised in; and three, his fascination for space, even if he could only go as far as the other stations.
Although he did acquire a love for literature when he found out that, yes, it was uncommon for a mining probe to fail and he needed something to pass the time, Harold was never one for flights of fancy. He knew, as his family and peers did, that he will never be a glorious captain in the Fleet, leading a strike force of Battlecruisers and Carriers to victory against the alien menace, because he was merely a member of the working class. Content to live his life in the shadow of great, cerulean Rostosov, he got a big break when a bunch of Navy officers suddenly visited the quiet, rustic Sigma Stations, whose combined population for 20,000 made for a ridiculously small recruiting pool when compared to urban centers like Sirius Secundus, which boasted sprawling, massive cities wherein up to a billion people lived. He was 19 years old during this time.
They stuck out like sore thumbs among the working-class crowd, with their pure white uniforms made of real silk, steel-tipped gazes and proud bearing whose manner bordered arrogance. Medals shone on their chests, more than Harold could count and of such variety that it left him bewildered. These men, who fought for humanity and its place among the stars seemed like aliens to the young man, but when they spoke of seeing the length and breadth of the galaxy and pushing back the Cruxi tide, his adventurous side couldn't be suppressed. The moment they asked for volunteers, Harold raised his hand immediately.
Boot camp at Bastion Alexandria proved to be tough on Harold, as he was aspiring to be a starfighter pilot, whose training regimen demanded only the best from cadets. The schoolwork that entailed officer training also proved to be difficult for the young man of a rustic background. Regardless, he pushed through, although only scoring average to above average in all exams, whereas quite a few of his friends excelled. However, Harold was among the third that appeared to have the right stuff for voidborne combat, as opposed to the other two-thirds of his batch that flopped out. In the culmination of a year of intense effort, he graduated, received his Golden Wings badge, got massively drunk with his friends, and then got handed the worst possible post for a pilot with a shining, freshly-minted Ensign bar:
Instead of being sent to the front, he was being held back to instruct a new batch of recruits.
Understandably, he was deeply bitter about the whole thing, and he shared this feeling of resentment with others who'd also been held back. Harold and the rest of them did not spend a year training and studying - vomiting in the simulator cockpit and vomiting in the real cockpit - just so their friends could get medals and glory while they got absolutely none. Buell and the others soon learned, however, even through thorough government censors, that their batchmates took part in a failed offensive that saw most of them dead, and the Carrier wherefrom their strike group operated, destroyed.
Somewhat humbled by that grim news, Harold and his fellow instructors nonetheless went about their duties with repressed frustration and ire. However, whereas some others vented by yelling at recruits or forcing them to do another 2-hour solo flight with only emergency and back-up navigational tools active, Harold instead joked, and his dark, sardonic humor, aimed mostly at the cadets, proved somehow popular among them. Such was the culture in the classrooms and training hangars of Bastion Alexandria.
Halfway into the schoolyear, however, there was a change in the major naval base: assets and scraps of what remained of what was once whole battlefleets were being pulled back from the Halo Stars in a somewhat hasty and disorganized effort at regrouping broken forces from shattered fronts. The grimness of the war situation was only made clear to Harold when his eyes beheld the Augustus, a massive ship-of-the-line, warping in with barely a quarter of her engine block functioning and almost sliced in half by some sort of beam weapon that had raked her amidships. As the buildup of Human forces increased and reserves from stations to the rear of Alexandria were called up, he and his fellow instructors hounded the recordkeepers with questions of their friends, the men they'd graduated with - and it turned out that they were all dead.
Not soon after that revelation, the Cruxi attacked. It was an organized, deliberate effort on their part, conducting a sophisticated operation with some of their finest warships and soldiers. While the Siege of Alexandria was mainly a fleet operation, the base itself did see boarders. It was there that Harold first met the enemy, and killed his first.
He, his fellow instructors and their students of course did not compare with the Marines in surface warfare against the boarders, but in the few sorties they made in the opening stages of the battle, they surprisingly acquitted themselves with distinction, taking down a large number of Cruxi boarding pods and some of their escorting fighters. Taking some losses, Harold's strike group managed to stall the Cruxi ground forces' operations for some time. Continuing to do sweeps and harassment tactics against the smaller enemy ships while the dreadnoughts brawled it out in massive gun battles as the day passed by, they eventually found themselves whittled down. And with the arrival of a Cruxi carrier, the few dozen remaning fighters of what was once an air group of over six hundred were given the order to abort mission.
Complying, Harold lead his team into hasty crash-landings into Alexandria's battered hull. Protecting the crash sites were human Marines whom they joined in the Station's defense. Harold managed to kill two Cruxi stormtroopers before his inexperience in surface operations lead to him being wounded by a plasma grenade that had detonated towards his left side. With serious burns, he fell down unconscious, but was thankfully kept from dying at the hands of a veteran Marine medic. Even with modern medical regeneration technology, the extent of his wounds was such that his left arm never got rid of the ugly, curling burn scars.
Harold, along with the rest of the servicemen who fought to save Alexandria, were then regarded as heroes by the government, for without their tenacity and sheer strength of will, the enemy would not have been delayed to the point where Battlefleet Primaris arrived as it did and turned the tide in favor of humanity. For Harold's personal conduct during the battle, he was awarded the Knight's Cross for Valor, and promoted from Ensign to Lieutenant (jg).
His wounds, however, were more serious than first thought. Rather than just leaving behind superficial burn scars, it was found that some nerve damage was irreparable - and to a pilot of starfighters, whose controls require the most delicate haptic inputs, this basically meant that the ability to fly such craft now vanished.
Harold was devastated. For days, he lay stewing in the hospital bed, mourning both his lost friends and the loss of his ability to avenge them. He then received an unlikely visitor, however, in the form of no-one but the sector's supreme commander himself! When the junior officer saw the aging man enter, he made haste to salute as best he could with most of his body wrapped in bandages, but Admiral Mikawa proved to be a friendly, genial personality who didn't care much for military formality.
Their conversation was a short one, not even reaching ten minutes. The Admiral told Harold that he greatly admired his courage and valor during the battle for Alexandria, and understood that the younger man was devastated at his loss of the ability to fly a starfighter. So then, Mikawa offered him a chance to fighting again, this time in another unit, piloting a different vehicle.
Curious, Harold asked for details. He was met with a curt reply that stated quite plainly that he was asking for classified information. The Admiral, still smiling, nonetheless produced a document and a pen, and held it out to Harold.
"Just sign here," he said. "And you will be able to fight again."
Harold, even if struggling, did so. Repressing grunts of pain and keeping his face as straight as possible, he scrawled his signature in the most hideous chicken-scratch. Mikawa, however, was pleased by this sight, and calmly informed Harold that he will be receiving new marching orders soon.
Notable Deaths:
-Lt. Cmdr. Hugo Kimmel - Commanding Officer
-Lt. (sg) George Pius - Friend
-Lt. (jg) Revak Tomiel - Friend
-Ens. Vernon Micheel - Friend
-Ens. Rubik Sarpedon - Friend
-Ens. Frederik Suter - Friend
-Ens. Umar Torgaddon - Friend
Framewerk Code Name: ROSTOSOV
Signature Weapon System:
2x TYPE 2500 MODEL 3 41CM GATLING:
Massive cannons firing shells weighing almost a ton at a rate of 1,000 to 3,000 rounds per minute. Capable of suppressing a large area with heavy and accurate firepower in an instant, this weapon system is also given versatility with its variety of ammunition configurations, from high-explosive to armor-piercing to even incendiary.
Secondary Weapon System:
MK. I GENERAL-PURPOSE CRUISE MISSILE MODEL "ROSTOSOV":
The Rostosov is equipped with an anti-ship missile system capable of taking down ships of frigate type or lighter that has been repurposed for the special needs of a Framewerk. A powerful weapon, it is a three-shot system with no reloads aboard the Rostosov.
Weight Class: Medium-Heavy Breakthrough
The Rostosov is meant to be a frontline brawler on the battlefield, bristling with heavy firepower and protected with an all-or-nothing armor scheme where everything facing ahead is fitted with as much armor as reasonably possible, but with its rear areas being rather vulnerable as a trade-off. This is the reason why is it classified as erring towards the heavy side of a medium-class instead of being an outright heavy Frame. Built under the theories and principles of fire superiority, It is expected to engage the enemy in the open field and win through sheer tenacity and sustained firepower output, before moving onwards and doing so again. It excels at engagements at medium range, as it is able to use both its offensive and defensive capabilities to their maximum under such conditions. However, as it lacks melee weaponry, its close-combat capabilities are practically null.
Special Ability: ???
Signature Weapon System:
2x TYPE 2500 MODEL 3 41CM GATLING:
Massive cannons firing shells weighing almost a ton at a rate of 1,000 to 3,000 rounds per minute. Capable of suppressing a large area with heavy and accurate firepower in an instant, this weapon system is also given versatility with its variety of ammunition configurations, from high-explosive to armor-piercing to even incendiary.
Secondary Weapon System:
MK. I GENERAL-PURPOSE CRUISE MISSILE MODEL "ROSTOSOV":
The Rostosov is equipped with an anti-ship missile system capable of taking down ships of frigate type or lighter that has been repurposed for the special needs of a Framewerk. A powerful weapon, it is a three-shot system with no reloads aboard the Rostosov.
Weight Class: Medium-Heavy Breakthrough
The Rostosov is meant to be a frontline brawler on the battlefield, bristling with heavy firepower and protected with an all-or-nothing armor scheme where everything facing ahead is fitted with as much armor as reasonably possible, but with its rear areas being rather vulnerable as a trade-off. This is the reason why is it classified as erring towards the heavy side of a medium-class instead of being an outright heavy Frame. Built under the theories and principles of fire superiority, It is expected to engage the enemy in the open field and win through sheer tenacity and sustained firepower output, before moving onwards and doing so again. It excels at engagements at medium range, as it is able to use both its offensive and defensive capabilities to their maximum under such conditions. However, as it lacks melee weaponry, its close-combat capabilities are practically null.
Special Ability: ???
GM
@SillyGoy
The pilot's appearance description needs another paragraph in written form. The character's military rank will be noted, but the character will still be given the rank of Cadet once enrolled like the others. The Framewerk's primary weapon will be considered as kinetic in type.
The pilot's appearance description needs another paragraph in written form. The character's military rank will be noted, but the character will still be given the rank of Cadet once enrolled like the others. The Framewerk's primary weapon will be considered as kinetic in type.
Apollosarcher Knight with the Rowan Shield
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
Name: Ariin Sorius
Appearance:
His dark hair curls slightly as he never bothers to do more then comb and trim it. His robotic eye emits a soft glow the color often changing as it blinks focus in and out on objects. His human eye a dark blue, like that of a stormy sky. Standing just under five foot nine inches, weighing barely one hundred and eighty-five pounds. A soft smile always tugs at his lips, his hands never seem to stop moving as if they don't know where they belong.
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Experience: 55%
Synchronization Rate: 72%
Personality: Cautious, curious, and quick witted is what you would feel off the young man meeting him the first time. No doubt he would compliment you in some way before brushing past you in a hurry, just in for you to notice a lighter pocket. Friendly and charming his kleptomania has some cause for concern however on base he has always returned what was stolen or covered the cost of the object. While many believe him to annoying or simply a jerk, the doctors believe he steals because it was the only social interaction he had after losing his parents.
Background: Growing up on outer rim world was fairly boring, at least that's what Ariin thought when he was a child. Everyone was a farmer, everyone lived in the middle of nowhere of course tending the land and providing food to large city's on distant planets. Occasionally he'd see traveling hunters who would pass though on their way to the great sea, off to hunt massive serpent whales whose bodies contained Helium-3 a fuel for ships and power plants. These hunters used Framewerk like vehicles to capture and kill the beasts, most of their equipment was insignificant compared to real Framewerks. Ariin would watch them go and dream of being a pilot, living in a major city in the rim, perhaps even being called to fight! It would be wonderfully exciting the young boy thought, of course so few had the talent, his own mother had washed out of the program and his father thought the idea of piloting a Framewerk ridiculous.
His father's disapproval would matter little after the conflict began, Marin Sorius signed up his wife and kids for an exchange to the core worlds shortly after colonies began to go dark. However the night of the ships departure, Gaius four, Ariin's home world came under attack. He had already been on the shuttle with his sisters and younger brother in his arms. A dozen other children rushed aboard, his mother the school teacher had let them take her place on the shuttle. She waved and called out to her children as the shuttle left, she told them she loved them and their father loved them, then the signal cut as plasma scorched earth. His mother was gone, the planet would soon be nothing but glass. Ariin looked at his siblings as they cried, his baby brother whined wishing to be held be his mother, Ariin swore he wouldn't let this happen again, not to what was left of his family.
Now living on Mars, Ariin tried to find work in the city of New Aries however other children pushed him around and often tried to beat him up. Ariin was strong for his size thanks to years of work on the farm and the ten year old's slim build and athletic tendencies made quick on his feet. Often he would beat down his bullies and steal their food and blankets. He provided for his three sisters and brother, year after year at the age of thirteen he began to steal more than food money, parts, and sometimes even jewelry. Ariin had soon amassed enough to get them into a quality apartment in the city. He continued to keep them feed and safe another year, all of siblings even managing to keep good grades in school.
However, after stealing a pocket watch from some guy in a military uniform he found himself cornered in an alley. Not by police but by soldiers, one grabbed him as the other began to beat on him. Beating him down they began to kick him, yet when his youngest sister whose path home from school crossed the alley they had cornered him in, shrieked in horror Ariin looked up. One of the men laughed and another was advancing towards her, he remembered what he'd promised himself. No one in his family was getting hurt again, adrenaline pumping the young man jumped sweeping the legs out from the first soldier and grabbing his knife, he stabbed the man in the throat. The one who had been walking towards his sister drew his blade, understanding the little punk meant business, he dashed at the street rat, Ariin's knife buried in his heart. The perfectly thrown blade stuck deep in to the man's chest. Slowly Ariin started towards the sidewalk, the man whose throat he had cut gurgled crawling towards the edge of the alley, his sister waited for him.
Ariin smiled, he paused looking back at his handiwork with the two jerks, a knife met his right eye as he turned, the gurgling man sounded as if he was laughing. Ariin remembered nothing but his vision blurring red and pain almost impossible to explain. Months later he woke in a hospital, an older man, the same one he'd stolen the pocket watch from and the one who dispatched those two assholes to catch him was there. He explained that Ariin would joining the military as Framewerks pilot as for the past year Colonel Marcus Andres had cared for his family and would continue to as long as Ariin obeyed his commands. Ariin agreed within a months time he was entered into an academy and began training. His training continued under the Colonel after that, he showed very strong Synchronization for someone his age and with experience he would grow into a fine pilot soon. Some however claimed that his mechanical eye was a weakness and a liability.
Of course off duty he continued his thefts, it had become an addiction running from angry officers or perhaps quietly lifting expensive jewelry off women as he passed them on the street. By age nineteen he had been training for years and gifted a Framewerk developed by Colonel Andres himself, the Paladin. A heavy duty front line unit designed to take punishment and throw it right back at the enemy. It's size, strength, and sheer will to survive made Ariin smile when he first saw it. He felt the mammoth sized machine was a perfect fit for someone who refused to budge an inch when protecting someone he cared about.
Notable Deaths:
Marian Sorus, father: Died on Gaius-4
Miyu Sorus, mother: Died on Gaius-4
Other things: Large music fan, often caught wearing headphones or drowning out comm's with music.
Appearance:
His dark hair curls slightly as he never bothers to do more then comb and trim it. His robotic eye emits a soft glow the color often changing as it blinks focus in and out on objects. His human eye a dark blue, like that of a stormy sky. Standing just under five foot nine inches, weighing barely one hundred and eighty-five pounds. A soft smile always tugs at his lips, his hands never seem to stop moving as if they don't know where they belong.
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Experience: 55%
Synchronization Rate: 72%
Personality: Cautious, curious, and quick witted is what you would feel off the young man meeting him the first time. No doubt he would compliment you in some way before brushing past you in a hurry, just in for you to notice a lighter pocket. Friendly and charming his kleptomania has some cause for concern however on base he has always returned what was stolen or covered the cost of the object. While many believe him to annoying or simply a jerk, the doctors believe he steals because it was the only social interaction he had after losing his parents.
Background: Growing up on outer rim world was fairly boring, at least that's what Ariin thought when he was a child. Everyone was a farmer, everyone lived in the middle of nowhere of course tending the land and providing food to large city's on distant planets. Occasionally he'd see traveling hunters who would pass though on their way to the great sea, off to hunt massive serpent whales whose bodies contained Helium-3 a fuel for ships and power plants. These hunters used Framewerk like vehicles to capture and kill the beasts, most of their equipment was insignificant compared to real Framewerks. Ariin would watch them go and dream of being a pilot, living in a major city in the rim, perhaps even being called to fight! It would be wonderfully exciting the young boy thought, of course so few had the talent, his own mother had washed out of the program and his father thought the idea of piloting a Framewerk ridiculous.
His father's disapproval would matter little after the conflict began, Marin Sorius signed up his wife and kids for an exchange to the core worlds shortly after colonies began to go dark. However the night of the ships departure, Gaius four, Ariin's home world came under attack. He had already been on the shuttle with his sisters and younger brother in his arms. A dozen other children rushed aboard, his mother the school teacher had let them take her place on the shuttle. She waved and called out to her children as the shuttle left, she told them she loved them and their father loved them, then the signal cut as plasma scorched earth. His mother was gone, the planet would soon be nothing but glass. Ariin looked at his siblings as they cried, his baby brother whined wishing to be held be his mother, Ariin swore he wouldn't let this happen again, not to what was left of his family.
Now living on Mars, Ariin tried to find work in the city of New Aries however other children pushed him around and often tried to beat him up. Ariin was strong for his size thanks to years of work on the farm and the ten year old's slim build and athletic tendencies made quick on his feet. Often he would beat down his bullies and steal their food and blankets. He provided for his three sisters and brother, year after year at the age of thirteen he began to steal more than food money, parts, and sometimes even jewelry. Ariin had soon amassed enough to get them into a quality apartment in the city. He continued to keep them feed and safe another year, all of siblings even managing to keep good grades in school.
However, after stealing a pocket watch from some guy in a military uniform he found himself cornered in an alley. Not by police but by soldiers, one grabbed him as the other began to beat on him. Beating him down they began to kick him, yet when his youngest sister whose path home from school crossed the alley they had cornered him in, shrieked in horror Ariin looked up. One of the men laughed and another was advancing towards her, he remembered what he'd promised himself. No one in his family was getting hurt again, adrenaline pumping the young man jumped sweeping the legs out from the first soldier and grabbing his knife, he stabbed the man in the throat. The one who had been walking towards his sister drew his blade, understanding the little punk meant business, he dashed at the street rat, Ariin's knife buried in his heart. The perfectly thrown blade stuck deep in to the man's chest. Slowly Ariin started towards the sidewalk, the man whose throat he had cut gurgled crawling towards the edge of the alley, his sister waited for him.
Ariin smiled, he paused looking back at his handiwork with the two jerks, a knife met his right eye as he turned, the gurgling man sounded as if he was laughing. Ariin remembered nothing but his vision blurring red and pain almost impossible to explain. Months later he woke in a hospital, an older man, the same one he'd stolen the pocket watch from and the one who dispatched those two assholes to catch him was there. He explained that Ariin would joining the military as Framewerks pilot as for the past year Colonel Marcus Andres had cared for his family and would continue to as long as Ariin obeyed his commands. Ariin agreed within a months time he was entered into an academy and began training. His training continued under the Colonel after that, he showed very strong Synchronization for someone his age and with experience he would grow into a fine pilot soon. Some however claimed that his mechanical eye was a weakness and a liability.
Of course off duty he continued his thefts, it had become an addiction running from angry officers or perhaps quietly lifting expensive jewelry off women as he passed them on the street. By age nineteen he had been training for years and gifted a Framewerk developed by Colonel Andres himself, the Paladin. A heavy duty front line unit designed to take punishment and throw it right back at the enemy. It's size, strength, and sheer will to survive made Ariin smile when he first saw it. He felt the mammoth sized machine was a perfect fit for someone who refused to budge an inch when protecting someone he cared about.
Notable Deaths:
Marian Sorus, father: Died on Gaius-4
Miyu Sorus, mother: Died on Gaius-4
Other things: Large music fan, often caught wearing headphones or drowning out comm's with music.
Framewerk Code Name: Paladin
Appearance:
Number of Framewerk Systems: How much your Framewerk is equipped with, determined by the pilot's experience. All levels have one signature weapon system and one secondary, while 80-89% are granted one more secondary and 90-94% one more primary weapon system on top of that. List the two as separate numbers.
Signature Weapon System: Pompey- A massive twin-linked railgun firing huge high velocity tungsten slugs into targets. Capable of removing limbs from Framwerks in one volley and taking down low level Cruxi. However it requires precise aiming and stable position to fire from. It's immense size and power make it rather unable to deal with smaller targets. It also makes aiming at moving targets rather tricky, however the blast from the weapon can be used effective to limit movement as the railgun system gives long range accuracy with a lot more punch.
Secondary Weapon System: Legion- A portable wall capable of expanding and digging in to the ground, made using advanced alloys it is highly resistant to plasma. In it's folded form it can a useful battering ram or a protecting armament against flanking opponents even useful for bashing other mechs up close.
Weight Class: Super-heavy Fortress class
Special Ability: ???
Appearance:
Number of Framewerk Systems: How much your Framewerk is equipped with, determined by the pilot's experience. All levels have one signature weapon system and one secondary, while 80-89% are granted one more secondary and 90-94% one more primary weapon system on top of that. List the two as separate numbers.
Signature Weapon System: Pompey- A massive twin-linked railgun firing huge high velocity tungsten slugs into targets. Capable of removing limbs from Framwerks in one volley and taking down low level Cruxi. However it requires precise aiming and stable position to fire from. It's immense size and power make it rather unable to deal with smaller targets. It also makes aiming at moving targets rather tricky, however the blast from the weapon can be used effective to limit movement as the railgun system gives long range accuracy with a lot more punch.
Secondary Weapon System: Legion- A portable wall capable of expanding and digging in to the ground, made using advanced alloys it is highly resistant to plasma. In it's folded form it can a useful battering ram or a protecting armament against flanking opponents even useful for bashing other mechs up close.
Weight Class: Super-heavy Fortress class
Special Ability: ???
GM
@Apollosarcher
The pilot's appearance description needs another paragraph in written form. As for the Framewerk's primary weapon, the power needs to be lessened to being able to blow off human Framewerks' limbs in one volley. Also, it's accuracy will be considered long-range, but not sniper range until after either having spent a turn aiming or after having received battlefield data. It will also be considered magnetic in type.
The pilot's appearance description needs another paragraph in written form. As for the Framewerk's primary weapon, the power needs to be lessened to being able to blow off human Framewerks' limbs in one volley. Also, it's accuracy will be considered long-range, but not sniper range until after either having spent a turn aiming or after having received battlefield data. It will also be considered magnetic in type.
Apollosarcher Knight with the Rowan Shield
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
@Ariamis Never mind edits made now.
GM
@Apollosarcher
Alright, accepted. You can post the sheet to the character tab.
Alright, accepted. You can post the sheet to the character tab.
coGM
Ammokkx ShaDObA TaNOsHiI
Member
Seen
9 hrs ago
Edit: Okay, so it's not completely EoD. But I did freak the hell out when I saw this because it is EXACTLY like EoD. What's the link with that old thing?
GM
@Ammokkx
I didn't know that you were interested. How old was she again? Uhh, what link?
I didn't know that you were interested. How old was she again? Uhh, what link?
coGM
Ammokkx ShaDObA TaNOsHiI
Member
Seen
9 hrs ago
@Ammokkx
I didn't know that you were interested. How old was she again?
M888888.
I fucking LOVED EoD and actively had a fight with the GM when it went down. I even though about rewriting it as a somewhat original story with my own twist on it, but time issues caught up.
She was 16, by the by.
EDIT: By link, I mean how it is related to the original RP by Gnar. Guess it's a reboot with your own spin on it?
GM
@Ammokkx
Experience: 41%
Synchronization Rate: 67%
Yeah, I had an idea of my own to the story that I wanted to write, so I took Gnar's template and made Hearts of Metal way back when. It had a good run until it died, but it's been about 9 months since that and someone revived the thread asking me to reboot it, so I decided to go for it.
Experience: 41%
Synchronization Rate: 67%
Yeah, I had an idea of my own to the story that I wanted to write, so I took Gnar's template and made Hearts of Metal way back when. It had a good run until it died, but it's been about 9 months since that and someone revived the thread asking me to reboot it, so I decided to go for it.
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