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16 days ago
Current Stop being passive aggressive. Just be aggressive.
7 likes
1 yr ago
It is certainly not 'optimal', but it *is* doable, depending on what you want to do with it. You could go swords or valor bard and play them more like a warrior with some magical ability
2 likes
2 yrs ago
One might say your villain arc has begun. Embrace it.
5 likes
2 yrs ago
Man do I love watching the circus
6 likes

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Most Recent Posts

@Psyker Landshark Mobile armor has been a thing for about 20 years, UEE made their first models about 10ish years ago, but didn't really begin rolling them out in considerable numbers until about 5 years ago

Elite pilots and special forces most likely had access to MAS 8-10 years ago. Rank and file have had access to MAS for about 5 years
All of the international war crimes we've come to know and love, now with only 50% of the child soldiers. Probably.
Nice! Happy to get a bit of traction! I'll have a character up soonish for a reference/example!

Click Picture for Background Listening.
Falling Skies


Plot, Premise, Expectations:

Hello everyone! Welcome to the interest check for Falling Skies! This is a reboot of a particularly old series- the original being written about a decade ago, and the last iteration being about 4 years ago. This Space-Opera-with-mechs RP follows the adventures of a group of men and women from the Empire's 101st Special Operations Group. I will be accepting a relatively small number of players- thinking between 3 and 5 not including myself or any co-gms, so this is not first come first served. This is a Mecha RP, with the idea that the mechs themselves are reminiscent of Gundam (specifically its 'grunt' suits), Macross/Robotech, Front Mission and Armored Core.

While nothing about giant mechs really fit the premise of 'hard sci fi', this RP will be aiming to fit something along the lines of 'hardish' sci fi: grounded in reality where possible, with some rule bending of realism and suspension of disbelief where needed. Something sorta like classic Halo 1-3 in terms of gritty military fiction vs space fantasy.

We the players will play the role of the 7th MAS Squadron, a squad from the United Earth Empire's 101st Special Operations Group, as they embark on their next campaign into the Persean Sector, a stretch of hotly contested space. Par for the course, absolutely everything goes wrong and they'll find themselves struggling for survival in increasingly hostile space. The RP itself will loosely follow a mission -> hub -> mission framework, though things may change and adapt as the RP progresses. Posts will be expected within 7-10 days following the GM post, with extensions to be provided as necessary. This RP aims to blend the melodrama of a space opera with the cold and harsh realities of war, and of course with giant robots.


Terminology and Technology:




Mobile Armor Suit Builder:


Tech Room:


Character Sheets:

The following are the Character Skeletons for the the 7th MAS Squadron. The CS's are a 2 part set. The first part is your character, the pilot. The second part is your mech, which you can make using the builder above or choose one of the UEE MAS' from the Tech Room.

A note on Callsigns: A callsign is a typically a name given to you by the rest of the squadron (whether you want it or not). There are very few people that will be willing to unironically call you "Grim Reaper" or "Kingslayer". Nicknames and Callsigns should be short, sweet, easy to call out. Examples of common callsigns are in reference to habits people observe you doing or quick shortening of your names: eg "Brit" because you have a strong English accent, "Twitch" because you tend to look around a lot/rapidly, "Kanga" because your last name is Roo, etc. If you're a brand new pilot and haven't been around long enough- or haven't been notable enough- to have an established callsign, you either won't have one or will be referred to something along the lines of "Noob", "Rook", "Rookie", "FNG", etc.

As far as roles within the squad goes- I'd like to see a relatively diverse mix of experience and talent. Squad leader, Rookie, Veteran, etc.


Galahad Caradoc



"Ah yes, the fate of the world as we know it hangs in the balance but we wouldn't want things to be unfair now would we? Etro knows that would be entirely too unreasonable." Galahad grumbled under his breath, even as he offered the Grovemasters a short, graceful nod of his head.

Their tone was grating, the poorly hidden disdain for the Kirins. Was their mission so far fetched? Though Galahad doubted any of the other groups had found the connection between Valheim and the Blight like they did, it wasn't as though they were the only group that had set out from Balmung to put a stop to the Blight. One might've recognized the importance of their mission. Galahad might've been more open with his disdain for the situation but caught himself. Perhaps he'd been spending too much time around Eliane.

"We appreciate your generosity," Galahad managed cordially, though his sarcasm was difficult to keep fully hidden. "And we would be honored for the opportunity to undertake these trials to prove the worth of our intents."

The Trial of Tides it was then. Yet another complication in their journeys. Galahad could only hope that securing the remaining crystals wouldn't come with the same issues, though knowing their luck, fates would probably find a way to shit on them again. More than the trials though, Galahad was practically seething at the fact that they'd lost Neve, so soon after her return- even after he and the others had practically swore to her that they'd make sure the Grovemasters would not have their way.

Galahad placed a hand on Neve's shoulder. He glanced at her and tried to say something- anything encouraging, but found himself without words. "I'm sorry." Galahad murmured quietly, he couldn't look her in the eyes. Perhaps after all of this, when they were successful, he'd be able to return and apologize properly. If they were successful. For now, they had a trial to face.

"You're only going to join us part of the way? How unfortunate, we surely could use your guidance." Galahad addressed Master Isolde in a rather clipped tone. "Perhaps you can recommend the services of a less talented, dedicated healer as we go." Galahad added, as he turned on his heel, ready to be rid of this place. "We've just lost ours, and perhaps this may come as a surprise to you- but in our line of work, white magic comes in handy."
In Regalia 6 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay





[Location] Food Stands, Landow
[Time] Sunday, 07:30 AM
[Mentions] @Mirandae @Silly



Any sense of calm and rationale was quickly destroyed as some untold number of strange creatures appeared. A flood of man hungry piranha-spiders or crabs, creatures seemingly hellbent on doing nothing but devouring anything that lived. People screamed, gunfire rattled through the air, their reports echoing off the buildings and filling the air with a near deafening din. Akamu tensed as he watched an unfortunate group of people too close to the harbor get devoured, and began to bound forward. Behind him, he could feel and smell the scent of Laura transforming into her Dominant form, and glanced over his shoulder to nod at her. Extending around her was an aura or barrier, both calming and quieting the uproar around them- a haven for the innocent. The woman who had joined them seem to be doing something too- her eyes glowing, but Akamu had little time to decipher exactly what she was doing, now was not the time to be thinking- it was time to act.

The noise resumed as the Regalia crossed the threshold of the barrier, people swarming past him as they rushed for the safety of Gaia. Their combined security details had already formed a defensive line, firing at the swarms as the Captain directed fire, and another beckoned civilians to safety. Unlike Laura, Akamu couldn't rightly transform in such cramped quarters at this- not without risking the lives of innocents. He'd have to make do with what he had around him for now. Heavy hands slammed onto the ground, walls of earth and stone raising around the barrier. Wide enough for the security personnel to climb up onto and use as a vantage point to fire at the monsters without catching civilians in the crossfire, with gaps in the cardinal directions for civilians to stream through. With how the creatures moved, Akamu doubted a mere wall would stop them, but it would at least slow them.

"To me!" Akamu bellowed, his booming voice cutting across the roar of gunfire and screams, encouraging both civilians and remaining Regalia and security to rally towards the shelter Gaia had created. "Away from the harbor! This way!" He cried out, even as he leaped forward towards the oncoming horde of monsters. Heavy feet slammed onto the ground, dozens of chunks of stones lifting into the air as he did. A clenched fist condensed the chunks into razor sharp shards before launching forward into the monsters. Another heavy stomp sent up more chunks of rock and stone, this time flying to Akamu to cover his body in a sort of rudimentary armor as he began to wade into the chaos, grabbing a fallen man and tossing him towards the barrier- he could apologize for his lack of gentleness later, for now he had to stem the horde. Reaching down, Akamu grabbed a fallen claw hammer from a discarded toolbox. He hefted the tool in his hand for a moment before plunging it's head into the ground, drawing out heavy rectangular chunk of stone as he yanked it back out of the ground. Good enough.

One of the crab monsters leaped at him, razor teeth gouging into stone as Akamu caught it on his forearm, his other armored hand roughly ripping it off of him before throwing it onto the ground, a stone covered foot stomping through its chitinous shell. A second lunged at him, sent flying like a baseball as Akamu batted it away with a heavy swing from his new weapon. Now appropriately armed and armored, Akamu charged into the thick of it- not seeking glory or battle, rather he sought out those that had not yet been able to flee to safety. Though not as recognizable, with his face now covered in stone- it was hard to imagine it was anyone else but the Regalia of Titan as a stoneman stormed forth.
In SPIRITUM 8 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Gerard Biserus



"Mhmm." The checkpoint guard's eyes were practically glazed over as he read the documents, his eyes glancing up briefly as he compared the information he on the papers to Justice- indicating that as bored as he looked, he was indeed paying at least a modicum of attention. "Well, you picked a hell of a time to go visit your dad." The guard chuckled mirthlessly. "There's a beer festival or something going on, so the streets are crowded and the hotels are packed. Mind how you drive." He added, glancing at the large, beaten looking truck.

In the back of the truck, Gerard was snickering more or less like Justice's inner monologue had predicted, as Morden stirred the shit with an ever impassive face. The guard had a laugh that was shared with no one, as he continued poking around the back. "You there," He pointed at Gerard, the princess next to him shooting up like her spine had been replaced by a steel rod. "I'll have a look at your papers too, and the one next to you."

"Sure," Gerard replied casually, slowly reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, his brain unsure what to do with the princess- they'd changed her clothes and put a hat on her, but forging fake IDs wasn't exactly in any of their skillsets- maybe Justice, if she had time and a space to work, but definitely nothing on the fly. "Well? Don't take all day-"

The private was interrupted by the checkpoint guard slapping the side of the truck. "Its fine." the lead guard called back, "Just military here to visit family."

With a slight rumble and hiss, the truck continued its rather unceremonious trek through the checkpoint. As the guard at the front had mentioned- it was slow going. The roads were thick with cars and people, and it was early afternoon- basically as busy as the city would get. They could heard the distant sounds of music and the near constant dull roar of an entire city of people talking. Bright pennants hung on strings stretching across streets and buildings, and more than one sloshed daydrinker forced Kali to come to a sudden halt as he walked through traffic, a rather grumpy looking police officer cutting him off on the other side.

"Think we can stop somehwere for a drink?" Gerard called out from the back, "I only vaguely recall putting Dunbarton Bier Fest on the itinerary!" His voice dropped a bit lower as he poked his head into the cabin from the back of the truck, his map app open on his phone. "Veld's people want us going here-" he added more seriously, floating the phone up onto the dash. "An even older part of town, if you could believe it. Residential district by the cliffs. I don't think this fat ass truck is going to be fitting into some of those alleyways."

Galahad Caradoc



Perhaps Galahad should've expected such a reaction from the Grovemasters. Perhaps it was their general disinterest in matters of war, or their general apprehension in the face of development, but it honestly surprised him just how withdrawn Drana Asnaeu was from the world stage. Even when Leonhart had sent out his many invites and letters to the banquet in Balmung, Galahad could count on one hand how many from Drana Asnaeu responded to the calls- just the composition of their party alone was indicative of the Dranian response. Galahad had- perhaps generously assumed that the Grovemasters were just reserved in their actions, but perhaps they really were just ignorant to everything happening around them. It was frustrating- truly. No one seemed to truly understand what was going on- how close to peril they were. They'd rather stand on ceremony or resolve petty grievances- his own family included. It was beyond frustrating- aggravating really.

Luckily for them, they had the Kirins to explain to them just what was going on: The Blight and its causes- namely Valheim and its continued corruption and invasion of Ibros. Some of them were calm and factual, others were passionate and idealistic. Éliane in particular was... a bit more aggressive and to the point. Galahad couldn't say that he exactly disagreed with her stance- his patience too had began to run thin. Though he wasn't exactly sure about the implications or directness of her statements, she was not wrong. Ibros needed to stand united. A vein on his forehead pulsed.

"Hopefully, it won't come to that." Galahad clarified, his voice calm and collected. "But to be clear. The threat that both Valheim and the Blight represents is incredibly real, and present."

"The Blight as we know it has expanded aggressively in just the past few months alone, and as young Rudolf has said, we've come across direct knowledge that ties to Valheim and their exploitation of the Sacred Crystals as its cause. The time to sit idle has long passed us. Valheim airships have already appeared in the skies just beyond Drana Asnaeu's borders. Valheim's spies may already be within your borders." Galahad continued, conveniently leaving out the fact that the Valheim airship in particular was chasing them- hoping just the threat of Valheim's proximity might give credence to their cause.

"We are going about the task of putting a stop to Valheim's machinations. The very least that we need is a dedicated healer for our expedition. Neve understands the gravity of the situation at hand, which is why she sought us out. Skael's stance is obvious- and if it hadn't occurred to you, even the old enemies of Edren and Osprey have seen fit to put aside our blades for now. The reality of the situation is, all of Ibros is facing calamity and needs to stand together- and the Crystals are the key. It is my hope that you'll allow us to do our duties."

"But for the sake of our world, we're not asking."
Rathello




The death of the boss came soon enough, Rath noticing a level up ping on his notification window as he shifted back to his humanoid form. A mild surprise to be sure, but not an unwelcome one. He must've been closer to a level up than he'd expected. Reaching down into the boss' corpse, Rath fished out a chunk of loot and held it over his head with a broad grin as he returned to the party.

"Not a bad fight huh? I think-"

Whatever good vibes that were to be had quickly disappated as they were interrupted by the talk of the town- the PK jester himself. He wanted the artifact, and unsurprisingly the party wasn't quite willing to acquiese- and Rath was no exception to the matter. He strode to the front of the party, putting himself inbetween them and the Jester.

"Doesn't the patronizing shtick get tiring?" Rath scoffed. "It's a game- and the boss isn't even that hard. What? You and your boss can't handle baby's first dungeon run by yourselves? Quit the clown act and buy the artifact off the free market like a normal person. It'll end up there after we're done with it anyway."

Rath's shoulders rolled, his eyes never leaving the jester- obviously ready for a fight. He never particularly took well to these sorts of players- insufferable assholes the lot of them. Best part about TOE was the feeling of being able to physically fight them instead of typing out vitriol over a keyboard.
oh shit- that is entirely my bad! Slipped my mind! I'll get something up soon!
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