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TaintedMushroom Member

STATUS: Is that another mushroom I see? 2 mos ago
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2 mos ago
Current Is that another mushroom I see?
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4 mos ago
Like a blizzard?
6 mos ago
Hello Monday, I see gatekeeping is on the agenda today! Remember everyone, at the end of the day it's a hobby and these are all opinions! Do what you have fun doing and don't stink on others fun! :D
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8 mos ago
WOP WOP WOP WOP WOP
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10 mos ago
Worship the night!
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In Falling Skies → 3 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Elliot Braide // ROOK

Ensign


Elliot was awestruck, quite frankly. The battle felt like it was already over when it also felt like it had just begun. They’d tried to impart pacing and realistic expectations at the academy but nothing really scratched the surface of how fast the real deal was. It felt like mere moments prior Elliot had been on a hard burn out of the Roanoke and now they were on mop up and RTB orders. Perhaps that was more to do with the effectiveness of the 7th than it did with the realities of battle, perhaps it was both.

Elliot was awestruck because his squadmates had systematically decimated the opposing forces as if going for a Sunday walk. Sabbine and Kodos had both been exemplary examples of precision, tactics, and everything that Elliot had ever looked up to in a pilot. That of course had tracked with what he’d heard in academy, the exploits of the pilots of the 7th hadn’t been unnoticed by aspiring MAS pilots. Each of his squadmates had padded their killcounts with more than a couple kills each and made it look effortless in the process. Hex had not only neutered the Fafnir’s deadliest weapon but had numerous kills confirmed KIAs to herself alone. And then there was Von Brandt and Kilmer. Rhino, who was likely piloting the scariest thing on the battlefield showed no hesitation in soaking up the Fafnir’s attention to keep it away from his other squadmates; and Kilmer, who’s high octane movements had reduced the remaining Fenrirs assailing the two of them to slag and ensured the funnel drones from the Fafnir wouldn’t have any chance of harrying the two of them.

Elliot was awestruck, and completely out of his depth. Any icy feeling had settled onto the back of his neck, a chill running down his spine. Elliot rushed to suppress the thoughts, clearly he was outpaced by his squad, for a multitude of reasons that were out of his control. Regardless he couldn’t help but feel a growing depth to the divide that ran between himself and those who he was supposed to support. If he was going to stand with his squad things would have to change rapidly, this much was becoming clear to Elliot. A divide stood between him and them but he refused to believe it was insurmountable, he would drive himself to the very end before giving into the sense of doubt that had threatened to creep in. Thoughts of shame whispered in the back of his mind but Elliot refused to give them credence.

"Rook moving to support, thanks for the cover, Commie. Let's help mop up the big guy and RTB, I owe you a drink."

With a sense of surety in his actions Elliot pivoted his MAS and burned towards Rhino as he moved into a more suitable position to provide firing support the moment a chance presented itself. The Venerator stowed its Maul as it approached, opting for the DEW-11 while the Jackknife MMS moved into a standby position and began marking the Fafnir’s softest points. Elliot wasn’t sure of his combat effectiveness against a beast like that but knowing Rhino’s own beast was present meant that he’d at the very least pose as a nuisance if necessary to enable Rhino’s follow up, if needed.
In Falling Skies → 15 days ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Elliot Braide // ROOK

Ensign


THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

THUMP THUMP THUMP

THUMPTHUMPTHUMP


The Fafnir had swooped in from on high and struck down the mighty in one fell swoop. Flashes of light warning flashes painted a mural of colors across the sweat laden face of Braide all whilst the rush of blood filled his ears and his heart beat quicker and quicker into a crescendo of panic. Chaos had unleashed itself upon them in what had felt like the blink of an eye. Rook had felt so high, reeling from his first confirmed kill as well as feeling like a mighty hero for his and Commie's efforts swooping in to save the two destroyers and their beleaguered defenders.

THUMPTHUMPTHUMP

His brain was still struggling to process how quickly the scenario had changed. One moment that pilot, sorelson or something, had been thanking them. Then he was gone, Braide had instinctively banked away from the Sentry as it's reactor went but barely a second later and the forward destroyer was nothing but a ball of fire and debris. Instinct carried Braide through a handful of evasive maneuvers but they were sloppy and uncoordinated. Indicators on the HUD informed flashed as radio comms were received, likely orders. Braide couldn't hear a thing over his beating heart and some sort of roaring sound that seemed to eclipse his ears. A small indicator lit up informing him that his flight suit was handling the waste, fortunate for him that technology kept piss from running down a man's leg in situations like this. A small part of him knew that he was panicked, freaking out, and entirely off the lamb at the moment. That part screamed from deep within like a prisoner deep beneath the earth peering at the barest hints of light through the most out of reach window.

thumpthumpthump

Everything was moving so fast, Braide's own thoughts were rushing by so quickly that he could barely make sense of them. They’d spent hours drilling at the academy about emotional control and regulating your fear and controlling panic. Braide knew at that moment that most of it hadn’t really meant shit. Or at least that was how he was feeling, something about the scope of destruction had shaken him to his core. The Fafnir was beyond anything he'd encountered in simulation and the sheer fact that within seconds it had claimed such a massive death toll on the battlefield terrified Braide. Something of that caliber would erase him as if he'd never existed and the very thought chilled him. Braide's display had highlighted and magnified the offending weapon and as much as the logical side of Braide knew he had to act it was easily overpowered and overwhelmed by the emotional side of him that knew that the next shot would be meant for him. Already he could see the glowing of the barrel as it prepared to fire.

THUMPTHUMPTHUMP

Braide was practically frozen. Technically he was still flying evasively but his body was on autopilot while his brain attempted to contend with the meltdown and the overwhelming sense of fear and panic he was struggling through. A flash of light that Braide was sure signaled the end of his story suddenly changed. The barrel of the Fafnir's cannon splintered and exploded unexpectedly and sent the Fafnir twirling off of its prior trajectory.

“FUCK YES!!!!!!” He hollered unexpectedly as he let out a breath he’d had no idea he’d been holding. Immediately the rushing in his ears diminished and the pacing in his heart began to feel less weighty. The wave of emotions that he experienced was like the bursting of a dam. Braide surged forward with a whoop and a holler as his terror and fear expunged from him in a sudden wave of adrenaline. He threw the Venerator into a series of high G maneuvers to get himself back into the game as he sought to use the destroyer's lower side as cover while he attempted to gather his bearings once more.

"Rook reporting. I'm not going to beat around the bush, I'm a little shook up. I'm back in the saddle though, Commie what's our plan of attack?" Braide asked as he started attempting to make sense of the battlefield once more.

In Falling Skies → 1 mo ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Elliot Braide // ROOK

Ensign


Elliot winced in embarrassment as the squad chastened his eagerness and the blood rushed to his face in response. No matter, Elliot didn’t plan on making himself a fool on day 1, or any day for that matter. A little voice in his head reminded him that few planned such events but Elliot pretended not to hear anything as he focused on taking hold of the twin sticks that controlled the MAS. Elliot had a combined simulation and practical flight time of over a thousand hours but they always said nothing could prepare you for the real thing. Elliot couldn’t tell if the tremor making its way down his leg was from fear or excitement, and there was only one way to find out. Elliot pushed forward, aligning his MAS with the launch pad as the system locked him in and prepared for catapult.

Elliot’s eyes wandered until he was staring straight up towards the launch bay opening. Time had almost crawled to a standstill; it seemed as Elliots brain had begun racing. Everything Elliot had worked towards had led him to this moment, the moment he’d only dreamed of until now. It was here, seconds away. Elliot’s mind was seized up in a wave of Euphoria mere moments before the catapult released and sent him roaring forward at breakneck speeds. Elliot’s mouth flew open and a whooping holler of joy filled his ears as the Venerator shot from the launch bay narrowly missing the Blackout as it recovered from its evasive maneuvers. Elliot was briefly shocked out of his reverie and instinctively yanked on the controls to pivot away from the Blackout and the launch corridor.

"Welcome to the 7th, Rook. Get used to the chaos. It's all we ever do here." Hex called across as the Blackout made a cheeky salute.

Elliot was a bit taken aback for a moment and the handful of violations that his instructors had drilled into his head jumped to the forefront of his mind. Mr. Brok Would have had Elliot scrubbing the joints of the schools entire MAS contingent if he’d even dreamed of pulling a maneuver like that. Just as quickly as the thoughts came to mind Elliot shut them down, this was battle, the real deal. Elliot had no place to chasten his fellow squadmates on their flying, let alone in regards to evasive maneuvers. These weren’t the posh wimpy boys and girls Elliot had been forced to board with at the naval academy, these were tried and tested pilots. Elliot knew with each passing moment they were taking stock of him, trying to figure out what to make of his mettle. Elliot would do his best to not disappoint, he couldn’t dare look weak in front of his fellows.

”Thanks for the welcome and the shave, Hex. Been meaning to take a few inches off the top anyways. Glad to be part of the 7th!.” Elliot called back, attempting a smooth quip to show that he’d not almost pissed himself by the close call.

Alerts pinged across the hud and Elliot quickly began going on the defensive as he tried to get a handle on the battlefield composition. Elliot’s loadout wasn’t really specced for the distance they were at and judging by his fellows they were already prioritizing the protection of the Roanoke. Thus Elliot chose to direct his attention to the two destroyer’s in need of assistance. Elliot was still a good ways out from his effective combat range and thus engaged the Venerators boosters and swept out towards the allied destroyers.

Elliot pushed the Venerator towards the redline in an attempt to reach the allied destroyers before they or their retinue suffered too much more at the hands of coalie scum. Elliot’s arrival was swift and he took advantage of the coalies being focused on their current targets. Reducing speed enough to allow slight maneuverability Elliot quickly engaged the MAS’s rocket maul. Already systems were diverting energy to the head of the massive weapon as the penetrating spike energized as Elliot joined together the two halves of the haft to give the monstrous maul its full reach. Elliot was rapidly closing on a Fenrir who was wholly unaware of the destruction hurtling his way.

This was the moment when most would hesitate. Simulations never could prepare someone for the true depth of taking a life, for those who’d experienced this dreadful deed would say it was like trading a piece of your soul for each life taken. It was a hefty deed that would and should give pause to most. Elliot did it without a second thought, it was a coalie, nothing more. Elliot had already cared little for those he saw beneath him and didn’t even have a way to really measure what an enemy meant to him. The thought that he’d be ending human lives wasn’t really one that he’d ever really entertained, in fact Elliot wasn’t sure if he’d even call the Coalies human. Whether this coldness was a symptom of his upbringing or UEE indoctrination was hard to determine, but regardless Elliot spared no thought towards what would be his first kill.

Elliot appeared behind the coalie MAS at breakneck speeds, by the time the enemy MAS was alerted to his presence he’d already engaged the rocket maul in its deadly ark. Elliot pulled up hard at the last second as he swung the maul at an upward angle. The coalie MAS turned in surprise, attempting to face his newfound opponent before the heated point of the Maul penetrated the cockpit from beneath. The force of the blow carried through as the Venerator practically gutted the coalie MAS, entirely ripping the cockpit from center mass as the maul continued in its upward arc.

Of course Elliot’s move had been a tad high octane and left him with a lot of velocity to shave off, suddenly the focus of the kill melted away as Elliot rapidly found himself becoming the target for the remaining coalies harrying the destroyers. In a rush Elliot transferred his momentum into a set of evasive maneuvers that aimed to put him on the other side of the destroyers relative to his targets, either to give himself a moment to reorient or for potential backup to arrive. Elliot suddenly realized that he’d rushed off without ensuring he’d called for any sort of assistance and very well might have overextended himself out past the protective capabilities of his squad. Just as suddenly Elliot remembered the capabilities of Hex’s Blackout and quickly opened a line.

“This is Rook to Hex requesting cover if possible, I’ve overextended myself a bit here admittedly.” He called into the comms channel, trying to keep the embarrassment from his voice.

In Symphony on High → 1 mo ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Dead Head


”Ruh Roh Raggy”




It wouldn’t take a dumpster to get Dead Head’s attention but it might take a little more haste to keep it, the Esper was going practically berserk. The moment his current prey had melted away Dead Head’s head had been on a swivel searching for the next target. Strategically speaking the smart move was likely to find the source of the shadowy attacks and seek to silence it. Unfortunately Dead Head’s sense of strategy was on vacation at the moment and rage was in charge. With an almost feral look in his eyes he scanned the battlefield rapidly before settling his eyes on the golden haired girl from earlier.

That was the one that had initially confronted them, she also looked to be giving Raphael a bit of a hard time. Dead Head couldn’t get paid if the guy paying him went down, so of course he’d have to intervene. He needed to close the gap and do so quickly whilst maintaining a bit of a surprise.

There wasn’t much thought behind his next move, merely adrenaline and anger. Dead Head had successfully pulled this one off once before and instinctively attempted to use a beam blink combo to intercept the golden haired fighter en route to Raphael. In the back of his mind a little voice remarked to itself about the entertaining notion of using this move in front of Bobo, unfortunately she wasn’t here at the time.

At this moment Dead Head had forgotten about the shadows and the other nun who’d accompanied them, he was fully committed to giving the golden haired swordsman one hell of a time.


In Falling Skies → 1 mo ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Elliot Braide // ROOK

Ensign


Ensign Braide it said, right there all shiny and polished. Elliot took a slow moment of relishment as he slowly reattached the shiny name plaque back to the dress uniform with an almost reverential touch. Elliot had dreamed of this for so long, for as long as he could remember really. Elliot had wanted to be a pilot since the day he’d first seen a picture of a MAS. Mommy! Daddy! he’d cried out, I want to fly the big boom bots! Of course his parents had brushed him off as usual and instructed Elliot to go play or find some other way to occupy his time. That had never stopped him though, and although they’d seemed to ignore his pleas there had been a certain specific change in the style of toys he would continue to receive and play with as the years went on. Elliot had fostered his own interest in MAS over the years and through a few strings pulled here and the influence of his family he’d finally managed to achieve his goal. Even still though it felt like not quite enough, Elliot couldn’t put his finger on why and as such shoved these feelings to the back of his mind. Here he was finally, a real pilot surrounded by other real pilots with an entire fleet of se-technicians and naval men and women standing by to service their needs and ensure that whatever they needed to achieve their goals would be theirs. Elliot should be relishing in his victory, his achievement. And so he did, dusting and detailing the dress uniform that he’d worn in his graduation ceremony. It had been the best day of his life. Those nagging feelings of emptiness would just have to get shoved in a box to be forgotten about, dismissed.

Elliot turned away from his uniform and surveyed the rest of his room; it wasn’t much, yet. Elliot would change that, with time of course; he’d just need to make some calls and a few demands, maybe twist a few elbows. The only thing that really showed any lick of personality in the room was the rough pile of books that Elliot had gathered on his bed, most of them being the only real possessions he kept. A majority of the books were about MAS, theory and practical knowledge; a portion were more generalized topics that Elliot wished to have a basic understanding of. More than a few had bookmarks, sticky notes, dividers, and all manner of things poking out of them as a way to mark important entries. A few of the technical manuals looked plenty more worn and opening any one might reveal an untold amount of handwritten notes between the lines of text. To an onlooker it was chaos, to Elliot it all made perfect sense. He knew where to find whatever he might need whenever the moment called for it, he’d read most of these front to back numerous times. Elliot's eyes landed on a specific one, one of the only fictional novels in the pile, with a particular sense of fondness. Elliot picked it up and dusted it off, surveying the cover and reminiscing about the days as a child reading through the adventures of the book's protagonist and his cheeky sidekick. This one in particular had a hefty bit of influence on Elliot’s desires as he was growing up and as such would likely never leave his side, a prized possession of sorts.

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

Elliot was so locked into his memories that the call for quarters practically sent him flying out of his own skin. Thankfully the room was empty and no one heard the yelp of surprise he let out as the book he’d suddenly dropped landed squarely on his toe. With a splutter of curses Elliot quickly pivoted and burst through the door into the hallway already bustling with activity.

“MOVE IT! MAKE WAY! PILOT COMING THROUGH! THAT’S AN ORDER! MAKE WAY!”

Elliots voice boomed down the hallway like a fog horn, a sudden air of arrogance taking place upon his shoulders like a form fitted cape. This was everything he’d dreamed, techs and other service men and women scrambled to make way as he barreled down the hallway, those who didn’t move quick enough were not of Elliot’s concern. He did his absolute best not to step on anyway or cause any injuries, massive ones at least. The occasional slow mover may just have found themselves brushed aside in an unceremonious manner though and a couple individuals might have found themselves falling to the ground as Elliot shoved aside. Regardless Elliot wouldn’t let anything stand between him and reaching the pilot bay in 90 seconds. They’d made it very clear that this expectation was an important one and Elliot wouldn’t have his first operation starting off on the right foot, commoners be damned.

Elliot made his way into the bay on the heels of his fellows, unnoticed by the more seasoned pilots. Elliot knew they didn’t hold much of an opinion of him, yet. It was to be expected as the new guy and Elliot had no illusions of his place. To him it just meant he’d work even harder to achieve the respect he so desired. These individuals, his squadmates and the fellow pilots in the flotilla, this is who he’d always dreamed of being amongst. Likely the only figures he ever felt an inkling of respect for were pilots, everyone else was too weak or too useless to get behind the stick and to Elliot that meant they were useless or not worth his time. Nevertheless Elliot had learned to at least tolerate being around those beneath him for the use they could pose in achieving his own goals. These fellows though, his squadmates, were the real deal. Practically walking gods in his eyes. Elliot was tickled pink to finally be amongst their ranks.

Elliot scrambled into his cockpit without a word, sparing little time to admire his MAS. As reluctant as his family had been about his choices Elliot had managed to at least get him to spring for one badass piece of machinery. In the name of his safety, as he’d spun it to his parents. In reality Elliot just wanted to pilot the same MAS as his favorite book character, the one he’d been reading about for years. Elliot had a surprisingly intimate knowledge of the MAS based on that alone, for a fictional story the author had been surprisingly true to reality, or as true as they could be. As for the rest, well one of the more beaten up manuals back on Elliot's bed was for the Venerator.

> Confirming Pilot Assignment: ENS ELLIOT BRAIDE
> ...Pilot Confirmed
> Initializing systems…

Elliot was on time but slightly behind his squadmates as he listened to their friendly bickering, a smile coming to his face. Elliot always had trouble suppressing his joy when piloting a MAS, like a dream come true almost. Simply put, he was giddy as a lune.

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

Elliot wasted no time as he settled into the cockpit and ran through his pre-flight checks. So far all systems were coming back as expected and he was green across the board. Today was gonna be a good day.

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

“ROOK SOUNDING OFF! SIR!” Elliot shouted, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and might bit a tad too loud given the direct line to his squad's ears.
In Symphony on High → 2 mos ago Forum: Advanced Roleplay
Dead Head


”Ruh Roh Raggy”




Asher had honestly expected shit to blow up, for something to start screaming, hellfire or something. What he hadn’t expected was to succeed at basically letting off a stinky flare before getting catapulted into a mass of shadows. What was that weird french saying that everyone liked to use to sound fancy? c'est Fa pie, Br'est la Tie? Asher wasn’t french, or big on idioms. Whatever, there were more important things going on than metaphorical phrasings, like the angry pack of shades doing their best to puncture Asher to bits and bobs. Couldn’t have that of course.

Asher’s instinctual move upon landing was to cast a shield note, but of course he was a little salty at the turn of events and looking to get back into the saddle. Instead of just hardening his skin like usual Asher cranked things to the max. An angry roar erupted from the pack of shades as Asher’s emotions poured out of him in an almost physical manifestation. His metallic skin took on an even harder edge as the fire’s in his eyes blazed to an inferno. Asher started swinging Hatred around with reckless abandon, every time he found himself with enough room to take aim Asher would unload a slug on whatever poor creature found itself beneath his ire. From an onlookers perspective one might assume Asher had turned feral.

Asher’s anger had clearly bested him for the moment as he was fully focused on thinning out the hoard of chaff that was being sent their way and had yet to consider taking on any of the more important targets. Buuuut Asher wasn’t really thinking about things strategically, plenty satisfied with just killing anything that stepped into his gaze.


In Falling Skies → 2 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay



In Falling Skies (Mecha, Military, Space Opera) → 2 mos ago Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Depending km what kind of mech you're looking for, I cam send you a few suggestions I have stored away @TaintedMushroom


Well I was thinking something light or medium and more on the generic side, at least for now, given that he's the rookie I imagined he'd just be given something pretty standard issue.
In Falling Skies (Mecha, Military, Space Opera) → 2 mos ago Forum: Casual Interest Checks
I don't mind at all, I use AI gen for character images when there's absolutely nothing that fits my concept otherwise.


Any descent suggestions? I'm starting to feel like the dinosaur that just needs to get with it lol, but at the same time all the ones I have ran across are kinda butt.

AI generators I mean, unless you just meant in general.
In Falling Skies (Mecha, Military, Space Opera) → 2 mos ago Forum: Casual Interest Checks
@TaintedMushroom A surprising twist on a rookie, but not at all unwelcome. Elliot is looking pretty good so far! Let me know if you need any help with images or mech ideas!


Thanks! I thought it would add some fun points of friction potentially.

Both? Lmao I have had a dreadful time finding imagery for either subject that isn't AI generated. IDK how you guys feel about AI, I am not a fan though at least for characters.

Google just ain't been cuttin' it.
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