Psyker Landshark

Rise of Rasalhague

Jaromir Zhu

After speaking with Fuka in the lounge, Jaromir had trudged his way over towards his assigned rack, not bothering to check exactly who his roommate was. He'd find out eventually anyways, and it wasn't as if he could do anything to change it for the moment. Getting a decent amount of sleep in before the mission was more important anyway. Others would have chosen to work on their Mech some more, but the techs were doing all they could at the moment. Him being there wouldn't change anything, especially when there wasn't exactly any time or supplies to do retrofits. Better to be well-rested and alert during the mission than have a slightly better-tuned Mech.

He'd managed a solid seven hours of sleep through the night, even comfortably snoozing through the zero-G turn. Soldiering meant knowing to get your rest in where you could, and he'd been on enough DropShips at this point to be used to such. Whoever his roommate was, they were gone by the time he woke up in the morning, and Jaromir woke up more or less well rested. A quick check of the time revealed that he still had several hours before the briefing at 1200 later in the day. More than enough time for a morning workout, shower, breakfast, and then some time with the Mech before he had to head back to the orientation room.

With that in mind, Jaromir got his ass out of bed, went through his morning ritual, and set off to do what he could for the morning before the inevitable briefing.

The Lion's Banner: A Fire Emblem-Inspired Anime Fantasy RP

Kayliss Lambert

No rest for the weary, then. Fine. She had no room to complain. Kayliss turned and wordlessly followed Velvetica as she began making her way back up towards the surface, giving orders all the while. At the very least, it seemed that merchant following them below ground hadn't been sanctioned by the commander. That was something, at least. There had been no need to drag an untrained civilian into this past her bit role to begin with.

"My lady," Kayliss nodded towards Velvetica, taking a position behind her and to the side in a bodyguard role for the moment. In the absence of specialized orders, she was best off here right now. An attempt on her employer's life was unlikely, but still entirely possible. Bodyguard work wasn't exactly Kayliss's favorite assignment, but often times, it took one assassin's expertise to suss out another.

"By your leave." She murmured to the commander, staying where she was unless ordered to otherwise.

@VitaVitaAR

Sundered Samsara (Honkai Impact 3rd - a Third Era AU)

Starting work on a sheet. Discord link'd be cool too.

Interest Check - Sundered Samsara (Honkai Impact 3rd - a Third Era AU)

I'm the other interested guy Rodey mentioned, so I might as well make the interest official. Will probably go phys if we have a decent chunk of other elements already.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Ranbu no Izayoi

Midgar. She'd nearly taken this city once. Izayoi stared up at the buildings as they approached, her mind taking her back five years in the past. The march on Midgar had been her one strategic masterstroke, intent on carving a decisive advantage for Osprey in a single blow. Her army passed through a lesser-used mountain path and flooded into Edrenian land on a beeline to Midgar. The Edrenians were caught between a rock and a hard place, unable to halt their invasion and march home without exposing their flanks to Osprean forces and risking a total rout.

If the other Osprean generals had done their jobs properly, it would have turned out far differently. Instead, one particular glory hog by the name of Takahashi had disregarded his orders completely and joined the counter-invasion from the main roads, thinking to move quickly enough that their absence wouldn't be missed. As a result...

___

"Is this a joke?" General Izayoi narrowed her eyes within the siege camp, her helmet tucked under her shoulder as she glared daggers at the trembling messenger.

"N-no, my lady! General Takahashi disregarded orders and attempted to enter Edren through the main roads. The Edrenians caught wind of the manuever and routed his forces from the rear. All reports indicate his death."

Izayoi sucked in a deep breath, her expression turning thunderous. Behind her, the city of Midgar was within sight, her army's siege towers and trebuchets finishing the final touches on their construction. They were so close! A single day more, and they could have stormed the walls. But to assault the city now was tactical suicide. There was an army on their heels. A just-taken city wouldn't hold against an attacking force. And even if the army to their rear was routed, she knew for a fact that reinforcements from Balmung were already massing, the Royal Guard among them. No, they didn't have the strength to continue this campaign. At best, she could salvage something from this by destroying the forces that had killed Takahashi, may he burn in the hells, before retreating back into Osprey.

"Then General Takahashi is fortunate he is no longer alive to face the Emperor's judgement. You are dismissed." Izayoi turned away from the messenger, already barking orders for the army to prepare to march home.
___

Her forces had utterly slaughtered the pursuing Edrenians, taking them by surprise as they'd expected to fall against a besieging army looking in the opposite direction. Cold comfort as their sole chance to retake the offensive in the war had slipped away from one man's hunger for glory. She'd even inadvertently avenged him. With a sigh, she forced herself to shove the memories aside for the moment. Dwelling on this was less than productive.

Izayoi tucked the brim of her hat down as she wrapped a brown traveling cloak from the wagon around herself, so as to hide her robes and sword. By all accounts, Osprean wanderers weren't too uncommon in the city these days, considering the state of their homeland, but prudence was wise regardless.

And speaking of such, Izayoi turned to face the rest of the party.

"It would be unwise to use my given name within the city. I doubt many would recognize my face, but a mystel samurai with my name would raise too much attention. For the time being, refer to me as...Suzume, if you must." She hesitated for a moment in choosing an alias, but her daughter's name would have to do. Izayoi had never been a particularly good liar, but Suzume's name was one she would certainly respond to if called out. "Now," Izayoi looked to Galahad. Even without being the nominal leader of the party, this was his hometown. It made sense to defer to him.

"What are we to do for lodging? I understand that you most likely should return to your home, but are the rest of us to join you, or ought we find an inn?"

Hiding who she was in a foreign land, operating under a false name...Imir help her, she really was turning into her master.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Renar Hagen

Unsurprising. He hadn't actually expected to get anywhere with this line of questioning.

"Fair enough." Renar shrugged in response to Alette. "I was simply obligated to make the attempt. If you won't be trying to finish your original assignment, we've no quarrel." He didn't discard the notion that she was simply lying to catch them off guard, of course.

He made no move to join the other knights, staying in the Shark's general vicinity for the moment. Renar rested the head of his poleaxe against his pauldron, turning his helmet to regard Alette again.

"I'd apologize for Fionn, but I doubt he'd much appreciate that. I'll get his side of the story later, but what is his history with you, anyway? Why exactly does he seem to despise you so? I've not seen him like that unless it involves serious moral qualms."

@VitaVitaAR

Jack-In! Megaman Battle Network - NetWarriors

@Darkmoon Angel Not trying to pressure you or anything, but it's been a minute with no communication. This still happening?

The Lion's Banner: A Fire Emblem-Inspired Anime Fantasy RP

Kayliss Lambert

That was that, then. The Lions passed the Witch's asinine test, and...she handed out an equally asinine reward. At least the mage they had on retainer decrypted what exactly the little doll was supposed to do. More useful than Kayliss would have assumed at first, but it still wouldn't have killed the Witch to actually describe what it did. Cryptic wench.

With no further orders for the moment, Kayliss slipped away from the main gathering. The rear-line forces could handle rescuing the prisoners. The Witch's mention of them being bought from across the sea was interesting, but it was doubtful one mention would lead to much without further evidence. A problem for the commander and her officers to deal with. And speaking of officers...

Kayliss raised a brow as she beheld Cadmon trying to comfort a sobbing Lirrah. Years of conditioning kept Kayliss from automatically rolling her eyes at the sight. What was the merchant doing? Was she trying to be a liability? Though considering she'd just struck a deal with the nem for poison ingredients, best not to antagonize her too much. Instead, Kayliss glanced at Cadmon.

"Have a word with the commander later, would you? About the...suitability of bringing civilians into the field."

@The Otter @Octo

Rise of Rasalhague

Jaromir Zhu

Getting her hands on a heavy mech, even a fairly pedestrian one like the Dragon, was a high more powerful than that of any narcotic. Just looking at the beast gave Fuka the power to fight anyone and do anything, and the inspection of the cockpit?

Oh, if only she could have harnessed the rush she got sitting so high up! The operation would have been over in under an hour.

But the euphoria induced by getting a new toy faded just like every other drug, Fuka’s excitement cooled by the knowledge that she had a long sixteen hours ahead of her. Part of that time would be spent familiarizing herself with the system to be sure and another chunk would be taken up by sleep, but there was still a good while where she’d be stuck sitting with her mechanical thumb up her ass.

With nothing better to do, she took to roaming the Ankhanne, learning the layout of the death trap that she now called home. Stumbling into the common area she saw that someone else had the same idea. Burn Scars had already taken up residence there, but surely there was room for one more.

"Hey boss, how’s it going?."

Jaromir had spent a few hours familiarizing himself with his new ride, putting work in the simulator. At least the new Trenchbucket was nice and speedy, even if it still had less armor than he would’ve felt comfortable with. The SRM launcher would have to be swapped out at the first opportunity, though. The autocannon ammo was already placed in an absurd spot, and he didn’t need more risks of ammo explosions. But the techs didn’t have the time to even place the autocannon rounds somewhere less ridiculous than in the same compartment as the PPC, so he was just spinning his wheels in the lounge.

He looked up from where he had splayed across an entire couch, raising his only remaining eyebrow at the woman who was addressing him.

”Boss? I know I look like I came out of the meat grinder, but shit, didn’t think I’d resemble that old man just yet.” Jaromir gave a brief, barely amused chortle. ”If you’re looking to kill time, there’s seats over there.” He gestured vaguely around the room, not caring which she ended up taking.

"Most people are 'Boss' to me until I get another name for them."

Ulrik was Sir because she didn't want him to bother her about it, Alvin was Slave because he earned the moniker and Bastard because he was born with it. The hard-faced man spread out over the couch like a bird strike against a Sparrowhawk had been rendered Boss because it seemed nicer than the alternative.

"I'm good, but thanks."
Restlessness had crept in, pushing her to pace the same small section of common room floor even as she sized up her flight-mate. Fuka had plenty of questions for everyone on her new team but no idea which ones to start with. But hey, anything that made conversation was good to bring up, right?

"You were in the war?"

He really shouldn’t have been surprised to be asked about that. It wasn’t something Jaromir liked to talk about, but not for the usual reasons. No, being Capellan and fighting in the war translated to the natural and entirely factual assumption that he’d gotten his shit pushed in. Not the best thing to lead off with among mercenaries if one wanted to be taken seriously. With a sigh, he nodded reluctantly.

”Yep. Second Ariana Fusiliers. Combat drops on Tikonov and Algot. Don’t think I need to explain how that crap went. Swear to God my combat record’s better after I deserted.”

Oh, a Capellan then. The poor bastards had gotten hammered in the outcome, and deservedly after their showing against the 'Free Republic'. To be fair the Combine had also lost pretty badly, but not "a third of its turf went to the FedSuns" badly.

"Yeah I can see that. Nice to meet another deserter though, makes me feel like I'm in good company."

Now it was Fuka's turn to snicker, heels planting themselves against the deck as she spun around abruptly.

"Seriously, I should have done this years ago. Playing soldier but actually getting paid for it? Seems like a pretty good deal!"

For her anyway. Fuka could not imagine doing anything except piloting a mech so her aspirations could only ever be making more c-bills in bigger and badder rides.

”This your first rodeo as a merc?” Jaromir inquired, though he figured he could guess the answer already. ”Fair warning, then: don’t expect to get paid for shit the first few years. You’ll be lucky to make twenty grand a year in most outfits until you make officer or the bean counters realize you’ve been here long enough that you’re actually worth something. The money only just started flowing in for me when my last unit went kaput. Least the room, board, and Mechs are free.” He sighed, before something else came to his mind.

”While we’re here…feel free to tell me to screw off if this’s too personal, but what’s with you and the Feddie? Seems like you’ve got history. You fucking with him or you fucking him?” Not that he especially cared, but it’d be nice to be forewarned of any interpersonal dysfunction before it became a problem in the field.

"Ah, fair enough. Would rather be broke and relatively independent than broke and having the officers breathing down my neck." She had gotten quite enough of that during in time in the Cadres, making sure her buttons were polished because if they weren't the higher-ups would make her run wind sprints in the rain. Fuka could put up with getting ripped off, as long as she managed to squeeze some fun out of the experience.

The mention of the "Feddie" made her smile, the grin absolutely shark-like as she finally came to a halt. "Alvin you mean? Oh that's a great story."

Now Fuka pulled up a chair, dropping into it backwards so she could drape her six-foot frame over the back. "So, I was in the war-" and here she provided proof, pulling away the latex sheath that covered her metal arm.

"Future officer of the Mustered Soldiery, served with distinction until discharged due to injury, you get it. But before I get my arm blown off I'm part of the Sun Zhang Cadres, cadets from officer school given the particularly nasty assignments."

The sleeve was simply laid over over the chairback, Fuka already too into her tale to bother with the fiddly process of putting it back on.

"My flight's out on patrol one day when we get word about a FedSun flight coming our way. We have the advantage where we are so we set up an ambush to blast them apart. No survivors, except for the Shadow Hawk I crippled. Take a guess as to who staggered out of it.

At least she finally stopped pacing. Jaromir simply nodded as Fuka finished her story, mildly surprised by the sheer coincidence behind it all. Shit deal for him, by all accounts. Judging by her calling him a slave, Jaromir could very well surmise what happened next. Considering his parents were slaves in all but name, he couldn’t very well say he approved of such. But at least the Dracs didn’t fucking dress it up while still pretending they were equal.

”House slave, huh? Guess he’s got a reason to be a resentful little shit to you, then. He gonna be that moody with the rest of us? I’d like to have lancemates that know the score. Or, if they can’t manage that, at least be able to shut up about it in the field.”

"Yep! The MPs beat him into next week and shipped back to my family's home, and he was cowed like a good boy his entire tenure. He didn't even try to escape until I skipped out, had to hide in some old laundry."

The experience had been a fond one for Fuka, the samurai chuckling at the memory of it and Alvin's little outburst during the briefing.

"As for you guys, I don't know. On the one hand he's got some pretty strong feelings about battlefield ethics."

The eye-roll was intense. Just because Alvin felt bad about losing didn't mean that anyone else had to play along with his proclivity for hand-holding the enemy.

"On the other, he's probably looking for approval. He claims to be a bastard from Davion, the actual House Davion. Apparently they didn't even give him a pat on the back when he got back home, which is how he ended up here. Whether or not that's true he's all screwed up and desperate for some sort of pride. Give him a few battles and he;ll get over it soon enough, I think."

Oh, for fuck’s sake. This grown man sounded more like a teenager, by all accounts. Jaromir didn’t even bother hiding the roll of his eyes as Fuka described Alvin, one hand rising up to pinch his brow afterward.

”Great. I love sharing the battlefield with overgrown children. He better be good at his job. That, or I really hope you don’t know him as well as you think you do.” Jaromir groused, shaking his head. Then something else occurred to him. It probably should have come to his mind far sooner.

”By the way, don’t think we ever got each other’s names. Jaromir Zhu.”

"Yep. He kind of sucks, but I figure that he'll either get with the program or quit. To be honest, I doubt he's going to live long if he stays, doesn't strike me as the warrior type."

Alvin was amusing, in the same way a housecat was amusing. He took himself too seriously and would hiss when his whims weren't being fulfilled but all it took was a hand on the nape of his neck and he would find himself chucked into a closet until he calmed down.

"Oh right!

The chair was wiggled forward, the younger of the mercenaries tipping her seat forward towards the older.

"Nakano Fuka. Most people use Fuka, I don't really care.

She balanced on the toes of her boots, chair propped up only on its front legs as she extended her robo-hand for Jaromir to take.

"Good to meet you!"

Jaromir took the prosthetic hand and gave it a firm shake in response. No sense being rude to new squadmates, after all. With that done, he rose from his prone position on the couch, standing.

”Think we’ll get along fine. You don’t seem like the type to start reciting bushido at me, and I’m not trying to go all Cappie propaganda on anyone. Hell, I just want to do my job, get paid the big bucks, and retire somewhere quiet. Anyways, think I’m gonna track down the sleeping quarters and get some rack time before we drop. Try not to get yourself killed out there, alright?”

He strolled off, giving a lazy wave behind him as he did so.

The Envenomed: Military Science Fiction Deniable Operations

Salvator Rasch

Void damn it. He should have known better than to assume the poor dead vrexul idiot would have had the good sense to keep the shotgun on what was functionally a silent mode. He'd handled biomechanical smart weaponry years ago, though, and knew how to shut the damn thing up. Salvator hurriedly tapped away on the AR display his helmet generated in his HUD, trying to see if he still had it saved...yep. Silent mode signal for biomechanical guns.

"Unbelievable." The voidhanger murmured derisively under his breath as the signal took and the shotgun stopped transmitting to the communicator panel. His sympathy for the dead soldier he'd taken the gun off of decreased by the moment. What idiot didn't put their smartgun on silent during guerilla ops in enemy territory? "Smart" features were for frontline infantry or garrison grunts, not rebels constantly in hostile territory. At least it seemed to be a quality firearm. Heavier than he'd like, but in a straight fight, the sheer force of these slugs would be very welcome. With the shotgun shut up for now, Salvator quickly wrapped its accompanying bandolier of slugs across his chest and got back to the task at hand.

Salvator cautiously peered out from behind cover, never more than a half second at a time. No sense in leaving himself exposed for anyone on overwatch. Visuals were poor from his position, but judging by the ammo count in his scavenged gun and the rubble around them?

"Squad, Rasch." He activated his comms, his helmet muting anything he said in his immediate vicinity. "Whatever took these four out, they gave a good amount of firepower in return. Be prepared for heavy fighting if we're made." With that said, Salvator checked the ammo left in the tube and quickly set about reloading. Fortunately, the dead man he'd taken this off of at least managed to set the bandolier up correctly, allowing Salvator to grab four shells off it at once and quad load, two shells slammed into the port with each motion. Back online, Salvator raised the shotgun and peered out from behind cover, starting to provide overwatch in case anyone had the bright idea to move up.