Avatar of Crimmy
  • Last Seen: 6 yrs ago
  • Joined: 11 yrs ago
  • Posts: 3660 (0.95 / day)
  • VMs: 4
  • Username history
    1. Crimmy 11 yrs ago
  • Latest 10 profile visitors:

Status

Recent Statuses

6 yrs ago
Current Person of the week in every Greek opinion poll!
3 likes
6 yrs ago
wild duck burger
3 likes
6 yrs ago
栩栩如生
1 like
6 yrs ago
spider-verse is spectacular
1 like
6 yrs ago
gridman is good
2 likes

Bio

Info
Location: Melbourne, Australia
Timezone: UTC+10 (Australian Eastern Standard Time)/UTC+11 (Australian Daylight Saving Time)
Occupation: Student/Tutor

Most Recent Posts


Name: “Mohotron” (Mohorovičić’s Device for the Emission of Gamma Rays as a Result of Positronium Decay)

Appearance of Weapon: Due to being more a proof of concept than a full-fledged weapon, the “Mohotron” lacks the features or bells and whistles expected of most Huntsmen’s equipment, and its frame has been built entirely for one purpose: to facilitate the weapon’s firing. Thus, it takes on the appearance of what could be best described as a long cannon barrel, plated with a stark-white metal, with a slot for ammunition cartridges (each only containing one “shot”) halfway up the barrel, and a rudimentary handle and “trigger” slightly behind it. There is no real form or elegance to the “Mohotron”, merely a long rod of metal and hidden components that requires a Huntsman to wield with both hands (in order to point the firing end straight at an enemy).

Type of Weapon: Gun

Description: The function of the “Mohotron” hinges upon a remarkably simple concept: positronium is an unstable system that, upon the annihilation of its component electron and positron on contact with one another, produces gamma rays. With this in mind, the purpose of the weapon is essentially to the harness the energy (given by the mass-energy equivalence from the initial positronium mass due to the efficiency of the particle-antiparticle interaction) of the annihilation by emitting the rays as high-powered jets in the direction of what the barrel is being pointed at.

To facilitate this, the innards of the barrel are lined with miniscule Dust crystals, set into the very metal of the weapon in a highly precise manner so that the positronium can be properly utilised. Lightning-types have created a constant electrostatic field within the barrel as to maintain the stability of the positronium particles loaded in, and when the weapon is triggered, will cut off the field, allowing for annihilation to occur. Gravity Dust has been utilised, alongside trace amounts of Air-types, to remove any other particles from within the barrel (and in the case of the former, also to compensate for relativistic effects), giving the gamma rays produced a clear path towards the collimator that makes up the rest of the weapon, which focuses the gamma rays into as perfect a jet as possible before they leave the barrel.

While the gamma rays will eventually diffract and disperse over a decent distance while in atmosphere, the high-powered emission will be incredibly deadly to most foes within range (usually up to a kilometre), as the energy produced will be akin to that produced by an explosion of sixty tons of TNT for around a “shot” containing 5g of positronium.

Work is still being conducted on dealing with the “afterglow” streams of electromagnetic radiation of lower wavelengths. As a result, it is not a particularly useful weapon.



Name: Hauteclaire - Blade Tempered by Logos

Type of Weapon: Longsword

Appearance of Weapon: At first glance, Hauteclaire is little more than a double-edged longsword of burnished steel, with its only defining feature the golden hilt, in which is embedded a crystal of orange Dust, the trigger hidden underneath the pommel, and the slot for small Dust cartridges can be found at the bottom of the weapon.

However, when the trigger is pressed, the blade immediately splits apart, each edge of steel opening up ninety degrees to run parallel to the hilt, leaving a single, emitter rod remaining where the blade once was. It is from this that a crystalline blade of orange emerges, becoming an immense sword that can vary in size.

Description of Weapon: The crystal that becomes Hauteclaire’s blade upon activation of the Dust is exceedingly sharp, capable of cutting through almost any foe with little ease. Even if the edges chip and shatter off, the crystal will constantly regenerate, allowing the sword to recover its form in seconds. It need not remain in a single form as well, with the blade capable of changing size depending on the aura fed into the Dust activation crystal, as well as emitting crystal projectiles at enemies. Elemental Dust can also be infused into the lattice, amplifying its strikes.
Current absence is from the intensifcation of work near the end of the semester and exam prep.

I'll try and get something out, but if I can't in a reasonable time frame, is it too much to ask if I can have Tzi just bunnied around in the background until I can get my work-life balance sorted?
Gratia Mindaro - Survival Class

"So you're in charge," said Gratia, her tone flat and clinical as she observed Estelle's movements.

The Mistralese girl had already settled into a desk near the front of the classroom, cloth satchel resting on the floor beside her. She quietly gnawed away at the choc-chip vanilla cupcake with strawberry icing that her unexpected newest teacher had provided them, tongue relishing in the sweetness of the confectionery. Having the elder Nuit in charge of Survival was a real fucking surprise, especially when she had only been a senior student a mere two weeks prior, but in hindsight, she should have expected the family of birdbrains to pull something unexplainable out of their arse. It probably ran in the blood. Fortunately, cooking skills didn't, because unlike the diarrhoea-inducing dogshit that Bianca's creations usually ended up as, the cupcake she was finishing off wasn't a) a plague-ridden crime against taste; and b) actually capable of passing a health inspection.

She was less sure of Estelle Nuit's teaching ability, but maybe she would be proven wrong. Gratia Mindaro wanted to do something of fucking substance this period, and if her former teammate's elder sister could provide that substance, than she could move on from the bullshit that was the monotony of Armoury. Even if she had been given more than sufficient time to complete her prototype headgear, the rest of the session had been as dry as an old hag's vagina. Nothing had fucking happened.

Gratia pushed the thoughts of Armoury to the back of her mind, leaning back comfortably against her chair. Her onyx gaze drifted around the room, resting for a mere moment on the cupcake sitting upon her neighbour's desk before they returned to their original goal: taking note of everyone else in the room. There were numerous students that she recognised, while some were still unknown to her. The teenage girl would take their measure later.

For now, they were of no import.
It's good to hear you guys still wanted to stick with this. But with other stuff getting in my way, I don't think I can keep this going anymore.

So with that, I guess AA has come to an end.

Sorry I couldn't make your characters suffer more.

It was fun GMing for you guys.
Right, so I guess you guys might want an explanation on my lack of activity.

Answer: schoolwork, procrastination, the slow death of my free time to things like attempting to find a job.

I don't really think this will change any time soon, so for the folks still remaining here, are you guys still interested in staying around? If so, I don't think I have the energy and time to post consistent GM responses and the like. And I think I've lost a lotta the momentum for plot happenings that seem to be further away now.

Basically, leaning towards closing this down, if it's fine with y'all.
Took me a while, but hi, I'm alive.

Blargh, I've lost control of my life.
Contrary to what one would have expected from his callsign, the cup of joe presently held in Montgomery Joe's left hand was not, in fact, a latte. The type of a drink hailed by some to be nectar of the gods that the oldest pilot of Fox Squadron was currently imbibing was instead of the instant variety, a fact that explained the mild grimace that was replacing his usual carefree expression. Slouched over with his bum resting on a conveniently-placed crate (one of many that was currently serving as a form of seating for his mates), he couldn't help but give uneasy looks at his blue mug (upon which was scrawled "World's #1 Dad") even while his squadron leader was talking. Yet he couldn't help but keeping drinking from it.

A chap had to finish his coffee. It was pretty barmy to keep drinking something he wasn't too fond of, but he'd finally gone to the effort of (after a bit of procrastination, actually) taking a look-see of the coffee situation on the SDF-1's mess hall today.

Didn't impress, really.

He drummed the pale fingers of his right hand against his knee for a few seconds, letting some of the black liquid roll around in his mouth. Nope, he wasn't a fan. Not in the slightest. He swallowed, a slightly discomforted huff leaving his throat as the coffee downed his throat. Even for instant coffee, it wasn't tolerable in the slightest.

Montgomery decided to turn his attentions to something else: the new meat on the team. They were young-looking lasses, weren't they? Certainly the that Dragomira girl. If he didn't know better, he'd think she was still just a schoolgirl! Or maybe he was just getting old. The middle-aged man stroked his chin in thought. Well, he was certainly around their age when he first got his wings. But that didn't stop them from looking like kids to him.

That sunglasses-girl (Cairo, yes?) seemed like she'd been called up to the headmaster's office! Montgomery mentally chuckled at that; Samuel McKnight was a far cry from a schoolteacher, even if he carried that clipboard of his around like a schoolmarm.

Still, they were old and (hopefully) trained enough, so he didn't need to worry too much.

The coffee, on the other hand.

Montgomery stared suspiciously at the mug. He took another sip.

Nope. Not a fan.

His blue eyes rose back up to meet McKnight.

"Have a question already, skipper," he spoke up, casually raising a hand (still tickled his funny bone that he was calling someone nearly a decade his junior 'skipper', but Montgomery Joe was perfectly content to be under Samuel McKnight's competent command; his fellow Briton had the chops for the job). "Will we still have to drink coffee this shite up in space? It tastes like dirt."

A smile found its way to his aristocratic-looking face.

"And it's not even freshly ground."

TZI TI'AMTUM


It was loud. That was a pretty obvious observation, especially when everyone was hitting the giant monster with all they had, but the two sets of orders being thrown around by Leblanc and that Regina girl just made it louder than he'd expected. Tzi Ti'amtum could tell instantly that however the fight ended, there was probably going to be some beef going around, and not any beef he was planning on eating. He didn't know how serious it would be, but even the smallest of conflicts in the middle of a fight was some bad juju, and when the big beastie was trying to crush them all, bad juju would only get in the way.

That's why he needed to find a way to get them to agree on something pronto before the butting of heads lead to their butts being kicked.

His Vessel manifested in his hands, but Tzi didn't attack. Not yet, at least. The tall youth keenly observed the battlefield with his one uncovered eye even as he rapidly moved around to position himself better for any strike he could launch on the monster. It was a pretty huge mess of a fight. Chaotic and hard to read. He needed to narrow things down quickly.

Firstly, the monster itself. Three times the size of a bloke like him, give or take. Bulky. Its size and mass seemed to be the main advantage it possessed, and if that impressive mule kick was any sign, could squash them all like bugs. Or throw the environment at them and squash them. Either was possible.

Secondly, big crumbly-looking building. Tzi could see it. The others probably could too. Would dropping the building work, or would the giant monster tank it? It was worth a shot, except -

The fight was a total mess.

Some figures he didn't recognise were attempting to rush the monster, putting themselves in close range. Leblanc was airborne and assaulting the neck. All while the Regina girl was throwing a ... sizable amount of bombs at the thing.

There was so much potential for friendly fire there.

Tzi took a quick glance at his trident from the corner of his eye.

Real big mess.

And thus Tzi Ti'amtum decided that running into the radius of explosions was probably a bad idea.

He was a cook, not something to be cooked!
Oh man sorry for disappearing. Been dealing with a decent chunk of stuff for the last week or so again.

I'll get a post up hopefully within the next few hours.
Yeah, gotta have your old dadderino.
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet