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20 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
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Purrcival



The morning was busier than usual. The Gathering Hall was a hub of activity- moreso than usual. With Prismata's Comet high in the sky, Astera had been turned into a multi-week festival ground- missions were still ongoing, but for the most part, people were taking it easy and viewing the comet during the day and night. Not for nothing, it was a breathtaking sight to say the least, Purrcival had enjoyed many a night carousing with his fellow felynes, enjoying the merry atmosphere and the lights and colors.

Today was shaking up to be a bit different. The atmosphere was different, there was buzzing about a big mission to investigate a nearby crash site. Probably nothing, but it was a chance for the Research Commission to get information on locations previously undiscovered by the Research Commission. That fact alone had most of Astera interested- not just the hunters, but the Tailraiders as well.

Purrcival and a small group of his fellow Tailraiders were already making their way through the crowded Gathering Hall, the smaller felynes deftly weaving their way inbetween the legs of the human occupants, while the larger Purrcival made a small wake for himself in the crowd. The smallest one was carrying a clipboard with notes, while another two were carrying large packs above their heads.

"Tailraider support is going to be difficult to purrvide for this one," the smaller palico commented idly, her paws scratching something off on the clipboard, "We have no idea about the layout, the possible meownsters, nothing!"

Purrcival let out a low growl, it always felt like the Tailraiders were given the short end of the stick. At least the hunters had the ability to sign up for the missions they wanted to go on- if some hunter and their partners wanted to risk life and paw venturing into unknown lands, that was their purrogative. The Tailraiders didn't have that luxury though, like most of the support staff in the Research Commission, they were meant to make the lives of the hunters easier- even at cost to themselves.

"How are we supposed to respond to SOS flares if we don't know what we're jumping into?" The smaller palico continued, as the group took a seat at a smaller table, closer towards the kitchen. Purrcival nodded as a small group of cooks dropped off palico sized portions of food for them. While not particularly cliquish, the kitchen palicos were always quick to get food out to their fellow felynes, so the Tailraiders never had to wait too long to be fed.

"We should tell the Commission to postpone the mission until we've had a chance to send a scouting party to map the area." the clipboard wielding palico continued between bits of wyvern-sausage and jumbo sized fish.

"This mission is the scouting party," Purrcival reminded her, "Scouting parties always hold the most risk in that regard- that's probably why the reward is so high."

"Mrowr, if the mission is so risky why do we never get hazard pay?" one of the other palicos grumbled. "We're the ones stuck cleaning up the mess if things go wrong."

"Its just business as usual," Purrcival replied, waving a paw dismissively "That's what we signed up for anyway."

Purrcival wiped his mouth with a white paw as he finished his quick and hearty meal. "Anyway, we cant afford to pawddle too long. Get the gear and wingdrakes set, I'm going to go meet with Dr. Paeris"

"Huh? Why are you meeting with the doc?" one of the palicos questioned him, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"The good doctor wants me to provide direct suppurrrt for this meowsion" Purrcival replied with a shrug as he got up from the table, stuffing a sausage into his pocket.

"What? How come you get the easy job?" the clipboard wielding palico complained.

"Benefits of being the boss," Purrcival replied with an easy wave as he exited the Gathering Hall. A quick trip to his quarters, to equip his weapons and armor, and Purrcival was on his way to see Dr. Paeris to prepare for the mission briefing.
god. trying to fit in cat puns into Purrcival's speech and thought patterns without utterly butchering it is tougher to do than I thought. Should have something out soon though!
Hey there! Thanks for popping in! Sorry but we are full ^^;
Coolios, I have another RP I need to write first, but then I'll get working on a post!
@Light here we are, I decided against the bowgun and went for a gunlance, hope you like it!
Still accepting? I had an idea for a Palico Tailraider, but with sort of air-force pararescue/combat search and rescue take on it

Can hunter weapons be resized for Palicos? Like a palico sized lightbowgun?
If this is still going, I'll also be keeping my eye out for an OOC


Chaos was the only apt description of the situation at hand. Explosions and munitions rocked across the battlespace as the Roanoke traded fire with the enemy ships on either side of the field. Lasercannon fire from one of the 7th’s ship killers had critically wounded a frigate, and the other two ships were breaking off their attack, not willing to risk their own destruction for the single target that was the Roanoke. Likewise, most- if not all of the assaulting squadron of Coalition MAS had been wiped off the battlespace, the two that remained begrudgingly retreated back towards their flagging ships. While the Roanoke continued firing at the fleeing ships, it made no effort to chase them, instead its hangar doors began opening again.

Not content to just let them go, another Coalition ship and its escorts had peeled off to begin harrying the carrier, it's already deployed squadrons of MAS, rerouting from their current dogfights to hone in on the Roanoke and its MAS squadron.

“Keep on my ass rookie, we’re leaving.” Ingram remarked as the Sparrowhawk boosted off, back towards the Roanoke, the Peregrine easily keeping up with its breakneck pace. Already Ingram was on the comms with the rest of the squadron, his icon popping up in the corner of everyone’s vision.

“This is as clear as we’re going to get, RTB now- before that new squadron engages with us.” his voice crackled, the Sparrowhawk must’ve taken some stray hit or debris to its communication’s array, but it was still clear enough.

“RTB and rearm, we’re going after Pips and Grizz.”

The Sparrowhawk rocketed towards the open hangar doors of the Roanoke, lines displaying on his HUD to help guide his fast moving mech into its proper spot. Engineers scattered as the heavy mechs of the 7th Squadron entered the simulated gravity environment of the Roanoke’s hangar. There was a heavy boom as the Sparrowhawk touched down in the hangar, followed by another boom from the Peregrine. Ingram quickly cleared the landing and walked his mech over to its bay as the rest of the squadron began touching down behind him.

Without even waiting for the mechs to begin powering down, the technical crews of the Roanoke began servicing the returning MAS with practiced precision: Refilling ammo bays and replacing spent magazines, spot fixes to damaged armor plates, reattaching refueling/power lines, and the like. The Roanoke had already began its run towards the planet, the hangar doors closing above them as the view of the planet filled the bay doors.

The Sparrowhawk’s engines spinned down to idle as Ingram pulled off his helmet and popped the cockpit open. Pulling himself out of the cockpit, he got a lungful of ‘fresh’ air- at least air that wasn’t the recycled air of his life support system. A bottle flew into the air from one of the Sparrowhawk’s technicians and into Ingram’s outstretched hand.

“Squad, situation update:” he called across the hangar between sips of water, his helmet still picking up the audio and displaying it across the squadron. “We have VIP designation: ‘Sunray’ on the surface of Cerol.” Implications were clear, Sunray was the designation given to one of the Royal family- an immediate descendant of the Emperor himself. Ingram had no idea what she was doing so close to the front lines, or where her bodyguard escorts were, but ultimately those were questions they’d have to get answers to later- preferably when they weren’t in the middle of combat.

“Thanks to Pips and Grizzly, we have a rough location of where they landed. Our new orders are to deploy to the planet surface, find our recovery team, and walk them back to the Roanoke.”

“Cerol is mostly uninhabited save for major habitats underneath its space elevator- which is now inoperable due to the status of Horizon Point. Flora and Fauna are large and occasionally hostile, so keep your wits about you.”

He poured half the bottle down his throat, wiping his face and tossing the bottle back down to his crew below. An alert pinged on his holopad and he took a quick glance at it before grimacing.

“Coalition forces are already landing on the planet surface, so we can expect contact. No time for a protracted firefight, drop them and keep moving. Good news, they’re all over the place- they don’t know where Sunray is. Bad news, they’re all over the place.

“Deadeye, you’re better in the jungle than I am- you’ve got tactical lead, we’ll follow. No questions? Take five, get some water, then back in your mechs.”




Giant trees rumbled and swayed like tall grasses in the breeze as the Roanoke broke the treeline, retro thrusters blasting the surface of a sapphire blue lake beneath them. While capable of entering and exiting an atmosphere, starships like the Roanoke weren’t exactly designed to land on planet surfaces for long periods of time- and given the wide stretching jungles of Cerol, there wasn’t much in the realm of clear space for it to land.

They were lucky they were even able to find this lake- as it was, the lake put them approximately 80 klicks from Grizzly and Pip’s estimated position. The Roanoke was a big ship, and hard to miss, but with any luck, their presence would be partially masked by the rest of the debris falling from orbit. Either way, they wouldn’t be in the clear for too much longer.

Deploying from the Roanoke and stomping ankle deep into the foliage and stream, Ingram took a glance at the jungle around him and was thankful that modern day MAS had creature comforts such as air conditioning, or the heat and humidity would grow unbearable rather quickly. The Sparrowhawk’s armored hand waved Aleks’ Yeoman forward, before motioning the rest of the squadron to fall in.

Opening an encrypted long range channel, Ingram risked a call to their recovery team. “Pips, Grizz- Boss here, moving on your last known position. Status? Pips? Grizz? Either of you reading this?” There was a short burst of static, then nothing. Their communications might’ve been disrupted by the landing- or they were dead. Hopefully the latter wasn’t the case.

As Ingram set about contacting the Savonian duo, Aleks stepped up to the others and flipped on the local channel in the Yeoman-2.

"Alright, I want DJ and Alcantara on my flanks, a forty metres out either way and a hundred metres to my rear. Eyes, Apples, trail behind at sixty metres, twenty metres spacing between you. Boss as rear guard another forty behind you two. Flight engines and boosters are to remain spooled down, limit your thermal exhaust as much as possible - the jungle is warm but we are warmer, do not give the Coalition early warning if they haven't picked us up already."

The Yeoman held its fist up with a whir, then pointed out in the direction of travel.

"Our comrades are that way. We are going to meet them. We will move fast, at the jogging pace of the Heavy MAS. We keep our eyes open for hazards, especially Coalition and especially local megafauna." The iron arm of the mech clenched its fist again. "Big forest means big animal, but they will most likely avoid us if they can. Alcantara, if we need recon, you will be the most likely to fly up for it. Remember to ping threats on the tactical net, remember to keep your focus, and remember the mission."

Aleks hefted the rifle, and got on the march.

"Follow on my signal. No idle chatter. As always, Sunray has Prio. Deadeye out."






It must’ve felt like hours, as Jakunta maintained a watch over the giant branches of the gargantuan jungle around them. The heavy jungle was hot and humid, but seemingly untouched by war. Birds and animals called throughout the jungle floor, but otherwise nothing. A peaceful breeze billowed lightly past the two pilots, as an oversized bird, bright feathers almost a foot long each landed on the Krakono and regarded Jakunta and Abi with curious eyes.

In the distance there was a quiet, almost muffled boom and the bird gave an almost accusatory squawk and flapped away, a pair of large red feathers all it left in its place as it flew off. In the distance, hidden by the massive flora the booming slowly grew in volume, becoming much clearer as it grew closer: explosions- munitions, and MAS sized weapons fire. The radio blared to life as it picked up short range communications on the unencrypted open channel- a close range radio channel usually saved for banter between Coalition and UEE pilots.

“This -kssh- -ray, requ-ksssh- -ssistance” a voice crackled over the radio, garbled explosions in the background cut in and out. “I repeat -ksssh- Sunray, -kssssh- pursued -kssh- Coalition forces”

The rumbling grew closer, and through the thick cover of the jungle trees, Jakunta could make out a figure crashing through the trees- a 40 foot tall metal chassis of a rather rare Coalition design, red and black with what appeared to be the pelt and skull of a large creature attached to its shoulder. Following it, some distance behind another trio of standard Fenrir IIs. The foremost unit didn’t appear to be leading the others, rather it appeared to be being chased- as it would occasionally turn and fire at the chasing Fenrirs. Almost as if to answer their questions, the radio blared to life again.

“-ksssh- Sunray, I’ve got 3 -ksssh- Fenrirs on my tail.”
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