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3 yrs ago
Current Have you heard of the MMORPG Final Fantasy XIV? With an expanded free trial, you can play through A Realm Reborn and Heavensward expansion up to level 60 for free with no restrictions on playtime.
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6 yrs ago
You know that feeling when you feel like you should be doing something, recognize that you're not doing anything, but then proceed to continue to do nothing? That's me. Everyday.
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8 yrs ago
Banana.
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...I got nothing. *shrugs*

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SRX-12 Imaging Satellite
IC 286.06 // Petrichor-8 // Recording a Frontier Planet
Indeterminant Timeframe // No Accompanying Staff



Situated three thousand kilometers away from the planet it circled around, the recording device onboard the SRX-12 Imaging Satellite captured the depiction of the slowly revolving world below. Giant landmasses of brown and red covered the planet's surface, with borders of green lined along the edges next to the few and far between blots of blue. Patches of grey dotted the landscape, areas that would fill with light as they turned away from the star illuminating the planet from space, the earthy sphere one of twelve among those that orbited the heavenly body.

In the space around the planet, another device occasionally passed along the periphery of the satellite's lens, a massive circular construct with prongs perpendicular to its circumference. At certain points in the recording that seemed to be taking place over several months, pinpoints of movement left the planet's surface and grew into spacecraft, approaching the other device and disappearing with a sudden flash as they passed through the ring, other unfamiliar craft taking their place as they returned to the planet from off-screen at various angles. Then a period passed where no such craft were coming nor going, planets that were once visible in the background of various shots no longer appearing when they should have, a miniature asteroid belt appearing moments later that had been absent from previous recordings.

The attack had been sudden, as many planetary invasions were, the recording slowing to a more reasonable speed as specks far off in the distance among the stars quickly closed in within a minute of being detected. Massive freighters, Knight-Class Carrier-Type Red Whales, grew in size on the image feed as they approached the planet, bloated and large like their namesake with 'flippers' loaded with heavy space-to-surface orbital guns and hangers full of small form planet-boarding craft. A small squadron of three stalled just above the planet's exosphere while another ship crept into view from the other side of the satellite.

Knight-Class Flagship-Type Fringehead, a sleek, more narrow vessel with a rounded bow and a ballooned stern packed with thrusters of various sizes, its carapace a pale white. Pieces of the unseen Warp Gate trailed in its wake, flowing from the tip of the ship as if it was a predator's maw leaking blood from a recent kill.

Though no sound could be heard from the vacuum of space, radio chatter picked up from the planet's surface began to play over the recording, each of the Red Whales' fins aglow with several specks of light while voices overlapped with one another.


["-re those supposed to be spacecraft? I'm sure it's just the Constellations visiting for a routine-"]

["-king News: An announcement from First Lieutenant Carinae Richie has been broadcasted to all neighboring planets within the Petrichor-8 solar system. Please proceed to the nearest Mantle-Layer Shelter for-"]

["-ee it too, how the hell did the military let those things get so close to-"]

["-ello? Yes, this is the acting chairman of Anaxes Industries, I need you to send the fastest craft you can buy as soon as-"]

["-om, I'm scared! Do you think we'll be able to get away in-"]

["-ll personnel! Activate orbital defenses! I want our guns intercepting as many of those plasma payloads as possible. Deploy the Cherrkov Interceptors, and do NOT let those damn aliens finish a second firing sequence! I repeat, DO NOT-"]

["-ord in heaven, watch over us as we ascend into your loving embrace. Please accept our sinful souls, and lead us to an eternal paradise-"]


The tip of the Fringehead slowly opened, splitting apart like a flower to reveal rows upon rows of energized weapons, all alight with the same glow just as the bombardment began. Silently, the cannons of the Red Whales fired orbs of vibrant blue light toward the defenseless world, punching holes through the thin layer of ozone that protected the planet from the radiation of stars as retaliatory blossoms of flame and metal ejected from several points on the planet's surface.

Though more numerous than the Aberrant's salvo, it took dozens of intercepting shots and missiles to force a pre-emptive detonation of plasma, and several more of the cerulean balls of death made contact with the planet's surface than those that were stopped. The results of each impact could be seen on the satellite imaging, visible ripples forming from each civilization-ending blast, hundreds of thousands of screams overtaking the audio recording planet-side before being suddenly silenced by the telling crackle of a destroyed transmission device.

From similar locations as the orbital defense salvo, tiny specks took flight and approached the looming Aberrant ships, their shapes just barely perceptible in the form of small form spacecraft. Ascending past the mesosphere and through the thermosphere at record pace, it wouldn't have taken long for them to reach their targets and begin a counter-attack. Were it not for the Fringehead.

Having held its own discharge until the right moment, the weapons began firing as soon as the interceptors drew into range, an uncountable number of lights filling up the vastness of space as they precisely narrowed upon the human fighters' locations. Though evasive maneuvers were attempted, rolling around beams and deftly sliding through the smallest of cracks in the endless barrage, the few craft that had survived the assault were quickly overrun as the Red Whales released interceptors of their own.

The Fringehead slowly turned its bow toward the satellite, igniting its galley of weapons once more as the Red Whales prepared their next salvo, plumes of blue and red meeting in the skies above the planet as a final transmission played over the rest.


["Energy signal confirmed. Aberrant Princess-Class D-47 aboard the enemy craft. Send in the Constellations to Frontier System Petrichor-8 Planet #7, Alora-"]

The imaging and audio cut off simultaneously as the beam arsenal fires, the screen filled with light.







I hate all of you
foist


roleplayerguild.com/topics/192994-the…

OOC up. Good luck, prospective players
The rat race is over. The stars shall shine overhead, while the others fall to earth as meteorites.
Reserved
Reserved
The year is 3098, 386 on the Interstellar Calendar. Humanity has spread across the stars, settling on hundreds of planets in dozens of galaxies, exploring the cosmos far beyond what they once believed was possible... and combating an enemy that threatens their entire species.

Aberrants, an alien force technologically evolved to annihilate the human race, corrode the planets they settle upon, using both the soil and the beings upon it as fuel for their unceasing crusade.

And yet, in a universe where the encroaching darkness seems set to consume everything, a light continues to flicker desperately to survive. Those willing to fight against it.



Aberrants


The Bio-mechanid Swarm, the Scourge of the Cosmos, the Enemy.

Known by many names across the several galaxies under humanity’s control, Aberrants are an alien race both biological and mechanical whose apparent sole purpose is the extinction of all human life. Stronger, faster, and technologically more evolved than their competitor, within the past one hundred years they have taken over nearly 60% of the planets that were once populated by humans.

Everything within the alien army is an Aberrant. The soldiers, the officers, the artillery, even the spaceships they use to traverse the stars and the giant bases they form upon a planet’s surface called a Nest. Each and every one is sapient, and usually possessing some form of autonomy. The closer their bodies are to a humanoid form, the greater their level of intelligence, with the strongest of the Aberrants almost scarily similar to a human form.

Aberrants exist as a eusocial hivemind, with their leaders serving both as broodmothers and the head of command behind each individual action the species takes as a whole, with every other member of the species serving within a caste system that prioritizes the needs of the strong. Though their method of intercommunication is unknown, the transmission time has been observed to be near instantaneous, with lower caste soldiers immediately changing tactics under the orders of their betters, leading many researchers to believe that the alien threat operates with some level of telepathic or neurological link between units.




Constellations


Humanity’s Final Hope, the Light in the Darkness, the Heroes.

Named after the stars that illuminate the vacuum of space, Constellations are the legendary figures that fight the most dangerous threats in the alien swarm. Tasked with eliminating the high-caste Aberrants that no normal human could match, they are an elite group of warriors made from the best of the best, talented among talented, and as supernatural as the enemies they face. To most of the human race, they are thought to be an unstoppable force, limited only by their number, adored to the point that they are treated like celebrities and at times worshiped like beings of mythos.

Despite their reputation, however, the truth is something that can never be divulged to the millions of planets until humanity’s control. To keep humanity’s hopes alive, propaganda portrays Constellations as near-invincible, that for one to die in the line of duty is a rarity during missions against the alien threat. The truth is not so. While they equal a single high-caste Aberrant, they cannot outlast a swarm of weaker Aberrants, overrun within minutes and defeated by exhaustion if not the overwhelming numbers themselves when not properly supported.

Those that are trained to become Constellations come from all across the many planets in the universe. People who had exceeded physical limitations, mutants, mosaic babies, or members of the warrior families. Anyone who may lay claim to the name of "prodigy" is invited to join the Constellations. All registered children are tested at a young age for their potential growth in the future through knowledge tests (comprehension speed, memory, retention, etc.) , blood tests (for Anomaly powers), physical tests (projected capabilities, hand-eye coordination, etc.), and other experiments before being given to a designated teacher, their notes and statistics given to their retainers who will mold their training to suit the potential Constellation. While there are some who attempt to join the Constellations later in life, most are drafted at the age of eight, and are immediately thrown into the level of training suited for their pre-existing level of experience.

Trainees are taught in the schools of tactics, firearms, martial arts, as well as subjects such as mathematics, anatomy, and physics in order for them to calculate strategies on the fly, and understand the equipment they use in the field. They eventually gain a Stardust-Class designation when one of three things occurs. One, they complete the entire ten year tenure of their training program. Two, they gain enough combat experience to qualify for the role before the ten years have completed. Three, they have accomplished a great feat, impressive even among the Constellations. The third option, of course, is the least likely, yet every year there are attempts to subvert the training regimen for a fast track to a higher rank. A handful of trainees have succeeded, many of whom had later reached the peak of their fields. Thousands more had failed in the attempt, leading most to believe that undertaking such a feat is indicative of a prodigy amongst prodigies, or insurmountable luck.

Constellations, after bequeathed their sword, are given a callsign for others to know them by. While some are unique to the person, others are passed down from generation to generation or from the previous user of the sword to the others, whether it be as a traditional right of passage, or to honor those that fell before. Callsigns are usually fashioned after a star from a known asterism, but not always.




Pilots


Walking Tin-Cans, The Mechanized Arm of the Military, the Heralds.

The men and women that protect the protectors, Pilots are an invaluable resource in the fight against the Aberrants, supporting the Constellations as they attempt to surmount the alien menace. Expected to clear the path for their more fragile allies, their mechanized suits are armed with heavy weapons suited for cutting down hordes of monsters and at times supportive gadgets to buy times until they can be bailed out of a tricky situation by a Constellation or fellow Pilot. While their qualifications aren’t quite as strict as the Constellations, Pilots are taken from aces, veterans, and savants, people better than the average man and willing to do what is necessary for the sake of humanity’s survival. Their armored tools of war, standing up to sixty feet tall and towering over most if not all human-based land vehicles on the fields of battle, bring hope with their presence. Because wherever there is a Pilot, there is the Constellations.

Piloted mecha were originally created for the purposes of mining operations and construction on inhospitable planets, aiding in terraformation in situations where humans couldn’t walk on the surface normally and where impercise machines could ruin the operation. As the war against Aberrants developed, however, humanity’s expansionism quickly grinded to a halt, and the overproduction of piloted machines no longer had a reason for their use. Not until a team of civilians, emboldened by the sight of Constellations falling in the early days of the war, took their construction equipment into battle to protect their heroes from an oncoming swarm. While those brave pilots had died in the endeavor, it had given the Constellation the time they needed to finish the battle, and soon after the military had started a mass production order to retrofit existing mecha units for combat.

Modern mecha are nothing like their original counterparts, with mobility prioritized over defensive material as the transport of Constellations and the ability to avoid artillery fire became the general requirement for extended, pitched combat. While most only have two to four weapons, one primary and secondary for each arm, others have shoulder mounted cannons, missile silos along the legs, hidden blades, anything and everything that can be used to kill Aberrants. Powered by Aberrant cores scavenged from the alien threat while their Princess or Queen broodmothers were alive, their power output is heavily relegated toward their flight systems and sensory input, leading many to prefer ballistic weaponry over energy weapons despite the latter’s overwhelming power.

A mech Pilot can apply for the force as early as fifteen, brought onboard for a five year training program designed to beat out old habits. The program prepares the Pilot for the G-forces caused by the frantic nature of mid-combat flight, firearms training not only in the mech suit but outside of it, tactics, and the rules of engagement. Or rather, lack thereof against the Aberrant threat. When their training is completed, they’re initially given an enlisted Space Recruit rank, elevated to an Apprentice and later an official Pilot after a year of active duty, barring any limiting factors such as poor performance or lack of necessary hours working inside a mech. Their ranks then proceed in a similar manner to what was originally the US Navy, becoming a Petty Officer or later promoted to an officer role with an acceptable record.


Humanity


The Sapient Species. The Oppressed Masses. The Underdogs.

Only two-hundred and eighty-six years ago, the denizens of Earth hadn’t understood the true magnitude of the cosmos, larger than large, wider than wide, their small corner of the universe but a spec compared to the millions of stars within their own galaxy. But soon after, they began to expand, imposing their influence on outer space as they filled the emptiness with life. Terraforming lifeless rock into vibrant landscapes, dry deserts into manageable oases, worlds of water into planet-sized theme parks, utilizing the uninhabited, unused satellites that orbited the stars and shaping them to their amusement.

Until they found something they shouldn’t have. Life other than themselves.

The hostilities had occurred without warning, their first contact with the alien threat concluding with the debris of a merchant vessel spinning off into the vacuum of space. Unprepared for war, and ill-informed of their aggressors, had it not been for the timely discovery of the anti-barrier material, humanity as one knew it would be extinct. But even against a foe more powerful and advanced than they, humans adapted to their situation and evolved as a species. Though once separated by faction and the vastness of space between them, the planets under humanity’s banner coalesced into a singular entity. United against the threat of a race other than their own, the petty squabbles over resources had taken a backseat, the full might of humans banded together for a singular goal.

Destruction of their natural enemy, and freedom among the stars.







A message to all applicants, please be aware that I am expecting a consistent posting group that can roll out at least one post per two weeks minimum. Obviously, it’s preferred that the cycles go quicker, but the two weeks are to make certain there is zero excuse for missing the deadline.

If you have issues with posting on time, or if you’re uncertain that you will be relatively free for the next two months, please do not apply. Giving you that trust and allowing you to join with the limited slots available, I will then affirm your trust in me by strictly adhering to said deadlines myself, and be present for conversation both in and out of game so we can make this story awesome. This is my first attempt at GMing collaborative storytelling in a forum format, if I make mistakes, please be aware of that and not only inform but educate on what I can do better to improve as a GM

Most of us are adults here on RPG, this site is dead enough that I’d be surprised if anyone left was below the age of twenty. I hope, while enjoying this hobby of ours, we can treat each other as such.
I'm somewhat interested. A question, are constellations without a suit of their own? So it's normal humans with swords with 20+ foot robots clearing the field around them?


Constellations have cloaks that defend them from certain dangers of fighting laser-shooting aliens in close quarters. But yes, they don’t have mecha of their own to Pilot and are running around on their own two feet.
As I have gotten a fairly high response rate, I will be posting the Character Sheet Template early. Please be advised this means that when the OOC comes out, the earlier deadline for Character Sheets set has now been moved up to one week after the OOC is posted.

If you would like pertinent information early, just send questions in this thread until the OOC is up



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