Psyker Landshark

Falling Skies

CMDR SAGAN "VULTURE" KODOS

"Talk to me, Gunns. How's our TO&E look for this deployment?" They sat in the crew chief's office in the corner of the hangar, sipping sodas. It would have been booze and smokes, but it was still on-duty hours. That, and both of them knew one of them in here could be deploying at any time within the next seventy-two hours.

"Well, sir, it'd look a damn sight better last tour." Came the chief's response, to which Sagan sighed, removing his ever-present, non-regulation shades to pinch his brow.

"Was afraid of that. Can guess why too, between all the custom and limited production models."

"You said it, sir. Not me." Chief Gunns threw his hands up with a grin. "Let's see...obvious ones first: you're fine, we all know you're just gonna do that Vulture shit anyways. Laurent and von Brandt're good, they're piloting models close enough to production standard. We've got the specs recorded for the Sparrowhawk's tuning and the Secutor doesn't need anything fancier than more armor. Vess's Blackout is dicier: legs have to be custom spec. If she has to get shot, tell her to take it in the arms. Virtanen's Griffin's fine, we got enough spare parts. Now, as for the elephants in the room..."

"God damn nepo baby shit." Sagan finished for him, grumbling. "Dunno what's worse, Commie's new crotch rocket, which he's halfway to burning out already on training manuevers, or the new kid's fucking Venator. Which defense industry contact did his daddy blow to score that?"

"Can't deny it'll kick ass, Commander."

"If some Coalie doesn't core it. New meat hasn't seen a minute of real battle yet. He manages to total his ride and live, he's going in a Sentry-"

"General Quarters, General Quarters. All hands to battle stations. I repeat: General Quarters. General Quarters..."

"And here we go. Keep the hanger crew prepped, Chief. It'd take the baby Space Jesus Himself for us to make it outta this coming furball with all our mechs intact."

"Will do, Commander. Happy hunting out there."

___

> Confirming Pilot Assignment: CMDR SAGAN KODOS
> ...Pilot Confirmed
> Initializing systems...

Well. At least it looked like all that drilling he'd done for the squad to go from rack to cockpit in ninety seconds had paid off. Damn near everyone seemed to be on time.

> Reactor: Online_
> Life Support: Online_
> Shield Generator: Online_
> Weapon Systems: Online_

"Hah! Fuck you Hex!"

"DAMMIT!"

Sagan took a second to take a deep breath, close his eyes, and think of the pension. Space Christ on a crutch, would it kill them to at least use private channels? He opened his eyes again, proceeding with final checks and startup while cueing his comms.

> All Calibrations Complete
> All Systems Nominal
> Standby for Launch

All systems green. He radioed flight control first.

<< Tower, Vulture. Green to go, moving to launch. >>

Next, squad comms.

<< Alright, boys and girls: this is your commander speaking. Sit down and raise your hand if you want to go to the bathroom, because class is starting. We had the briefing yesterday, but guess what? You're still gonna have to listen to me yammer on before we launch. High Command, in their infinite wisdom, has decided to send special ops units straight into the goddamn grinder. Most of you are familiar with furballs. A couple of you ain't. Few words of advice: stick with the rest of the squad. We watch each other's backs and fight smart, we'll break through. Try to be a hero in this shitpile, you're gonna die. That's why the rest of us're trying to make sure you don't. >>

<< Now, those of you who ain't given green lights yet, sound off! I want us in vacuum while the Coalies're still shitting themselves from the alarm! >>

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

@The Otter @Click This

"Neither of you have nearly enough parental issues in your profiles to get away with that." Kayliss groused, taking the reports she was given and starting to read through them. The thermos of coffee was taken without a word and drank through in record time. After several minutes of reading, the veteran SEED set the reports down and tucked them away.

"Well," She began, taking a moment to massage her temples. "No one can say you haven't been busy. Dame-Commander, and congratulations on the promotion, I'll make sure yours makes it to the Overseer."

Kayliss sat in the room's only chair, one leg crossed over the other.

"You two do realize, by the way, that this information is more than enough to net you King Leonhart's ten million gil? Food for thought. In any case, you've done well. Ordinarily, this is where I'd call for at least Mathiassen to return to Skael with me for redeployment. Though something tells me you two would protest that at this point."

She pulled an antique-looking timepiece out of her tunic, taking a moment to set it.

"Five minutes. Convince me."

___

@VitaVitaAR @vietmyke @HereComesTheSnow

"Gah!" The highwaymen's attempt at robbery failed to pan out, the three remaining of the group that hadn't been slain looking at each other helplessly for a moment before unaninmously deciding to throw down their weapons.

"Enough, enough! We lay down our arms!" Cut-and-thrust swords clattered to the stones, the masked men putting their hands up, palms open. "Himstus be damned, you people fight like demons!"

"That's a Dragoon, you dolt! How in the hells did we even run into one out here?! I thought we left all that shite behind with Edren!"

"Forget him, why's the boy in the stupid uniform fight like a godsdamn copy of the Cap'n?"

Somehow, the goons managed to forget they were being held at sword and spearpoint as they started to bicker among themselves, though not without inadvertently revealing some choice information...

___

Ranbu no Izayoi

Izayoi sat on the patio of a local bistro with Ciradyl, enjoying dinner. Nothing else happened.

Blades of Iron Roses: An Anime-Inspired Knight RP

Renar Hagen

Renar was already halfway towards scattering as Fanilly gave the order, his eyes tracking the gigantic wooden snake's movements, and his mind already racing with countermeasures. Unfortunate that the most straightforward solution would be the most counterproductive to their actual goal here. A shame, too. He would have liked to see how this creature burned.

Fortunate that he was at least better equipped in this situation than a swordsman would be. Certainly, the head of his poleaxe wouldn't be as effective as a real woodcutting axe would be, but enhanced with runes and dwarf-forged as it was, chances were very good that cutting into would repeatedly at least wouldn't damage the weapon. Failing that, there was still the hammer head.

As Fionn started clambering up snake, much like Renar had done with Thrinax, the latter knight took an alternate approach. While the foe would be distracted by that and Tyaethe's charge, Renar half-climbed, half-leapt up a tree close to where the snake was, his training having paid dividends in regards to his swiftness. Upon scaling to a decent enough height, he clutched his poleaxe in his right, hung off the tree with his left, and braced both of his knees in a crouch before leaping off the tree as a springboard, aiming to circumvent climbing the snake altogether and plunge onto it, his weapon in both hands and crashing down towards its body.

Falling Skies

Pilot Dossier: Kodos, Sagan

SAGAN "VULTURE" KODOS

D O S S I E R : I D #472869221

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Name: Kodos, Sagan
Callsign: Vulture
Rank: O-5, Commander
Kills: 62

Gender: Male
Age: 36
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 177 lbs

S E R V I C E R E C O R D

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Psychological Analysis:
A career military man with a boisterous, gung-ho attitude on the surface, a coarse frontier accent, and a veneer of an infantry drill sergeant, one could be forgiven at first glance for thinking the Commander was a marine NCO and not a navy pilot. Underneath that, however, is a seasoned commander that cares deeply for his subordinates. He leads through example and charisma, unwilling to subject his pilots to anything he wouldn't personally undertake and letting his loud, casual personality shine through. As befitting a special operations commander, he isn't particularly strict with rank or hierarchy, trusting that anyone who made it into special forces has just enough of their shit together to be functional enough and not get waist deep in hot water with the military. On the off-chance that someone does violate that trust he puts in them, however, the sarcastic yet lighthearted needling he gives his troops on a regular basis becomes genuinely furious with the offender in question, and strict discipline is likely to follow.

While not exactly embittered towards the Navy, any patriotism Cmdr. Kodos once had towards the UEE as a whole has been replaced by weary acceptance of the state of things. Naval service had only been a means to an end for him once upon a time. It was only the ongoing war, his love of piloting, and his need to keep his people alive that kept him in after all these years.

His callsign was given to him years ago in the 101st for his tendency of salvaging downed MASes to repair his own. When pressed on the matter, he refuses to state what his former callsign was as a Naginata pilot.

Personal Record:
Born on a shithole frontier colony on the very edge of UEE space, well away from the front lines of the Coalition border, Sagan got the hell out of dodge the moment he was able to, traveling three systems away to attend college on the imperial dime through the ROTC program. The plan was simple: study engineering, give a few years to the Empire in service in return while seeing the galaxy, and then spend the rest of his life with a good job while moving closer to the core systems.

That plan went up in smoke when the war escalated. While originally slated to join up after receiving his degree as an engineer, the needs of the Navy meant that Sagan started undergoing pilot training even during college. Fortunately for himself, he fell in love with piloting the moment he went up in a simulator. The feel of soaring through skies and space while jockeying his mechanical steed spoke to him in a way that electrical engineering never did, and he was eager to get up into the inky void and fly.

Unfortunately, pilot training concluded for Sagan at about the same time that the Coalition deployed their first Mobile Armor Suits. His initial engagements against Coalition MASes were a disaster, with the majority of his squadron being shot down and barely any casualties inflicted in return. Some people broke under that pressure. Most were either shot down in the initial dog fight or preemptively ejected afterward. He didn't. Notably, Sagan was distinguished for inflicting one of the only two mission kills on enemy MASes, and being one of the only three pilots in four squadrons that managed to return to base without being shot down.

War had changed, and Sagan was one of the precious few that had any experience with this paradigm shift. Once he and his fellow survivors were debriefed, they were all handed promotions and dispersed among the Navy to spread their knowledge. While miraculously not traumatized by the one-sided route, Sagan was nonetheless shaped by it. Never again, he vowed, would anyone flying with him be massacred like that.

Several tours of duty passed with a few promotions, a marriage, two kids, and a subsequent divorce happening along the way. Eventually, Sagan was tapped to be one of the first UEE MAS pilots, with his first contact experience and continued wartime distinction cited as qualifying indicators. For his part, Sagan was mixed on the promotion. He loved flying. The Sentry could do anything but. Nonetheless, he could already see how much better it'd be against Fenrirs than a Naginata would be. So he did as he was bid, becoming one of the founding members of the 101st.

More years of endless, grinding war. He made new comrades. He made ace. He lost those comrades. He strove to lose less of the next batch. Somewhere along the way, he became just as attached to his Sentry as he had his Naginata. Between all the successful missions, close calls, and untold amount of battle damage, Sagan grew used to fighting on two legs rather than in the sky. It didn't hurt that he'd finally managed to jury-rig a set of flight boosters onto the Sentry. Eventually, he'd made O-5 and given command of his own squadron for the first time, just in time for Imperial suits to finally start being mass-produced. The Commander has led the 101st's 7th MAS Squadron ever since, with rumors saying he'd turned down a promotion recently just so he could keep an eye on the current generation of pilots.

Personal Skills:

• Air-to-air combat: Having originally trained as an aerospace pilot, Cmdr. Kodos is in his element in the air and in space, ekeing out greater mobility off the ground than one would expect out of most medium MASes.
• Electrical engineering: Sagan didn't get a college degree for nothing. It's proven to be very useful in fixing up MAS internals and adapting suit systems for nonstandard parts. If someone in the squad needs MAS internal assistance and the techs are busy, he's generally the one to go to.

Other:
Voice claim: D.C. Douglas

GTM-021w Sentry "Watchdog"

M O B I L E A R M O R S U I T

---

S P E C I F I C A T I O N S

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Designation: GTM-021w Sentry "Watchdog" SOC (Special Operations Custom)
Role: Interceptor, General Purpose
Weight Class: Medium
Description:
Not technically an official designation for a new suit by any means. Rather, this is a Sentry. Or what remains of one after nigh-on a decade of battle damage, retrofits, and salvaged parts. War strained logistics lines for even stock mobile armors, and in the first few years of deployment, there were precious few Sentries or Sentry parts that were available to be shipped to the front lines for repair and resupply.

Nearly every part on the stock Sentry that Cmdr. Kodos has piloted has been replaced in some way, with only several panels of uniform armor plating and a fresh coat of paint giving any sort of cohesive appearance to this mobile suit on the exterior. Eventually, the mechanics requested and received authorization to relabel the Commander's suit as a custom unit, if only to spare new techs the hassle of trying to have any sort of reference point when working on this Frankenmech.

The Commander's own background in engineering proved invaluable in working with the techs to sure that every scavenged part managed to become compatible with the Sentry, jury-rigging electrical systems until they managed to make the parts work. After all, they were the difference between a functional MAS and a limbless wreck much of the time, so it was a matter of life-or-death rather than Kodos simply wanting to improve his steed.

By the time that the Sentry was being mass-produced, the Watchdog had already been given its designation, and neither Kodos nor the mechanics of the 101st had any wish to revert the MAS to a stock design. At this point, the Watchdog had already been calibrated and fine-tuned to its pilot's exact specifications, with performance well above the Sentry and more than equivalent to the Centurion. This machine specializes in hunting other Mobile Armor Suits in straight dogfights, especially flight-capable ones.

A R M A M E N T

---

• Espada SPAMRAAM Racks (Heavy): Mounted in armored cases within the Watchdog's shoulder pauldrons, the vertical-launch Smart-Propelled Advanced Medium-Range Air-to-Air Missiles, designation Espada, are equipped with midflight repositioning systems that synchronize with the MAS's onboard Upgraded Targeting Suite, enhancing target navigation in rapidly changing battlefield environments. Espada missiles are specialized for armor penetration and are effective against all MAS types and light naval assets, with a full SPAMRAAM barrage capable of posing a legitimate threat to a warship at the expense of using up every warhead loaded. The Watchdog carries two racks of 8 Espadas each for a total of 16 missiles. Vertical launch and attack help to stymie point-defense systems not capable of firing directly upwards.
• RDB-9 20mm Hybrid Plasma-Kinetic Autocannon (Primary): - A compact bullpup rifle with an inbuilt minimal-power plasma capacitor. Augments its low caliber ammunition with in-barrel plasma sheathing, converting 20mm rounds to HPK and allowing for damage far beyond what its shell size would suggest. While not as powerful as even a light plasma rifle, the XM9's hybrid shots still far exceed standard-issue autocannons, with one three-round burst being capable of dealing severe damage to a light MAS, and two bursts almost certainly downing one. Can fire in semi-auto, three-round burst, and fully automatic, with a fire rate of 1200 RPM. Takes 90-round box magazines, and can carry four additional mags within standard MAS armor compartments.
• EB-21 Beam Saber (Primary): - A plasma beam saber used in close combat. The blade length can be adjusted, and its high energy output allows it to be a deadly close ranged weapon.
• PowerLite Point Defense Laser(Secondary): - Ripped from a downed Garmr and mounted on the Watchdog's head, this lightweight laser weapon rapidly pulses laser beams and is capable of defeating infantry, light armor and incoming missiles, but has limited effect on the heavier armor of dedicated combat MAS. Despite its low power, the PowerLite is still capable of damaging more sensitive subsystems and equipment on enemy MAS.
• S10 Combat Shield (Secondary): - The standard S10 combat shield is a basic lightweight combat shield utilized by UEE forces. It provides limited directional defense from ballistic weapons, and an anti-beam coating allows the shield to absorb a single hit from plasma weapons. It is commonly mounted on the shoulder or arm, and specialized clamps allow it to swap positions as necessary.
• Flight Booster (Utility slot): Back-mounted flight boosters. Allow for sustained in-atmosphere flight as well as enhanced mobility in space and on the ground. Can redline the system in an overboost, greatly enhancing flight speed for several seconds before shutting down entirely and requiring recharge from the suit's onboard reactor.
• Upgraded Smart-Targeting Suite (Utility Slot): - Increasing the effective accuracy and response time of the MAS' weapon systems, Upgraded Targeting Suites often feature Smart AI that quickly and more accurately determines range as well as any other environmental factors faster than the MAS's onboard computer. The AI allows users to rapidly acquire multiple targets simultaneously, making 'blind firing' more accurate and providing an edge in close ranged combat.
• Countermeasure System (Utility Slot): Same stock countermeasures as the original Sentry. Chaff and flares for missile evasion. Does not take up a utility slot.

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Lady Safina Haliel

"Two sirloins, pink in the center. With roast capon, and some greens." Safina ordered without a hint of shame. If there was one perk to the guise of nobility that she had no hesitation in abusing, it was access to fine food.

With that finished, she settled onto the topic of business after the maid had left.

"If Rhinecliff has liquid funds at his disposal, they weren't in any nook or cranny of his estate. We found geas-contracts. Dozens. One for each guild in Odonfield, and with several businesses in other duchies as well. It seems the good Duke has his fingers in no few pies. We took them, of course."

She reached for the wine and a spare goblet, pouring herself little more than an ounce or two at most.

"My people are holding them for now. Once we're finished here, I'll be overseeing the scrolls' transport from headquarters to the castle here. Too many for us to move them discreetly all at once."

The elf's ears twitched, and she deliberately said nothing further as the maid returned with Safina's rather large meal. A wave of her hand dismissed the girl before she tested each portion for toxins with an alchemically-treated needle. When satisfied, Safina took up fork and knife and started to set in on the platter of meat and greens, dining with impeccable table manners despite the rapid pace at which she was eating. One wondered where she put it all, considering her figure.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

@Raineh Daze @Ithradine

A chortle came from the man for whom fat was a gross understatement of a descriptor.

"Soriel, Soriel, Soriel. Everyone's talking about her these days, it'd seem. Makes sense, what with all of the Blight nonsense going on. Good for business in the short term. In the long term? Well, I don't much fancy dying should it reach here, regardless of what our illustrious Grovemasters say." The Gardner took a puff of his pipe, blowing smoke out in lazy rings.

"I can provide many things, oh tall, dented, and dinged. Exact location would be a stretch, even for a king's ransom. That woman comes and goes like the wind, with only rumor left in her wake. But I could point you in the right direction. For a...more than reasonable sum, of course." His teeth flashed in a grin. Silver, every last one of them.

"Three hundred thousand gil. Convince me you're not out to kill her, and I might lower it." An absurd price. Not exactly spending change, even for high nobility. One could buy a small plot of land with that high of a sum.

Falling Skies (Mecha, Military, Space Opera)

In general, although I mostly just use the Bing one.

ArrowFell: The Wizard Queen's Court

Lady Safina Haliel

Unfortunately for Elysabeth, she would be left waiting until nightfall. By the time she took dinner in private, a hand would reach out while she dined, pouring wine from a carafe into the Countess's goblet.

"I see everyone has decided to take a leave of absence. Had I known, I would have taken a detour until Her Majesty's return." Safina mused, setting the carafe down and striding over to sit down in the seat next to Elysabeth's while clad in her noble guise's usual finery.

"Reporting back. Is Her Majesty afield? What is our current situation?"

What went unsaid was the pointed look Safina gave Elysabeth. Ruling a kingdom from the shadows, for however long until Evelyn or that young ponce Vulluin returned, had never been supposed to be in the cards for Safina. She led only one thing: her own people. Could Elysabeth handle things here without Safina's intervention?

Falling Skies (Mecha, Military, Space Opera)

I don't mind at all, I use AI gen for character images when there's absolutely nothing that fits my concept otherwise.

Iris Ascendis

Iraleth Kyrios

Iraleth's thoughts were interrupted by yet more crazed ranting. The principal? She sneered. What good would that do Ciara now?

"Does it even matter, in the end?" Iraleth murmured out loud. "Perhaps you do hear voices in your head that turn you into an insane mummer. All that proves is that you're a danger to those around you." She continued to gaze down at the delirious witch.

"What do you think would have happened if you'd dueled someone that couldn't have fended you off? Bronsteel would have crumpled the second you laid hands upon him. And then he would be dead, Ciara. Because you couldn't control yourself."

She eyed the pillow Ciara was laying on. The madness could all end here, before anyone could actually be seriously hurt or killed. It would be so easy...

But was that right? Did Ciara even deserve trial at this point? Her actions were almost guaranteed guilty. Would it be a mercy to simply snuff her out here and save her a humiliating trial and most probable execution...?

Iraleth froze. What the hell was she doing? This wasn't the field. Ciara was a prisoner at this point. Had she really been so personally affected by the duel that she'd been legitimately contemplating playing judge, jury, and executioner all on her lonesome? It wasn't as if she believed that Ciara wouldn't be killed for this. The duel in the Record was damning. But it wasn't her decision, her authority to uphold.

The paladin forced herself away from Ciara's bedframe, brushing past the curtains to emerge out into the rest of the infirmary room. And she set out into the hall, intent on finding someone that had Adapa access to Raja.