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1 yr ago
Current "Nothing fills me with deeper sadness than to see a Southern man apologizing for the defense we made of our inheritance." -Jefferson Davis, 1st and only President of the Confederate States of America
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1 yr ago
"I have resolved never to start an unjust war, but never to end a legitimate one except by defeating my enemies." -King Charles XII 'Carolus Rex' of Sweden, 1700
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1 yr ago
“Civilians are like beans; you buy 'em as needed for any job which merely requires skill and savvy. But you can't buy fighting spirit.” -Robert A. Heinlein
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1 yr ago
"Throughout the day, no time for memorandums now. Go ahead! Liberty and independence forever." -David Crockett
1 yr ago
“It is the basic, metaphysical fact of man’s nature—the connection between his survival and his use of reason—that capitalism recognizes and protects.” -Ayn Rand
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Bio

I'm Britton. I'm currently a high-school student that has an extreme interest in the historical field, especially that of culture, military, and politics. My other interests include national and international economics.

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Consider me interested.
"Copy." Travers acknowledged, grunting as he spit out the wad of dip tucked in his lip, spotting tool and bipod neatly slid into his ruck's webbing as he grasped his rifle. He elevated to a crouch, hooking his belt's clip into one of the rappelling wires, smoothly descending, urgently unhooking and bringing his rifle to bear, folding in his bipod and gripping tight to the grip and handguard.

As he began to move, a light illuminated his ghillied silhouette. He turned, his nightvision monocle lit up as the flames mounted towards the sky. He muttered briefly. "Ah hell." He flicked his NV monocle up to his helmet, turning back towards the truck. He keyed his comms. "Travers here, moving in on the truck!" He darted his eyes left slightly.

Against a nearby tree, a trooper, lame and obviously wounded by the wreck had a rifle thrust into his shoulder, struggling to bring it to bear. Reacting quickly, Lukas spun and kneeled, his scope glinting against the one functioning headlight of the truck. His shot popped with a dull thump and a sharp crack, and the return was the whirr and zip of a magnetic rifle. Opening his eyes, he settled them on the trooper, a crimson trail beginning from his chest. By some dumb luck, the trooper's shot had went wide. He keyed his comms.

"Travers to all, truck secured!"
I'd be interested in the Alien Apocalypse idea as well.
“Let me know who comes and goes.”

Lukas locked his gaze on Sara, dead silent, lip pursed, some sort of chewing tobacco obviously tucked in. His night vision monocle shone slightly, peeking out from under the netting strands and faux foliage of his partial ghillie which covered his entire head, shoulders, and upper back. As he adjusted himself slightly, he gave a half-hearted acknowledgment in the form of a nod, before pivoting, and looking over at his ghillied-up compatriot.

“Copy that, Lancaster. Good luck,” Jimbo whispered through the radio whilst inserting a fresh clip into his rifle, ratcheting the bolt forward before murmuring towards Lukas. “Hopefully, I don’t have to take a shot.”
Even, though he wanted to. Jimbo had been bored out of his mind for months. Falcon Squad hadn’t seen any proper action in the field for several fornights and it was starting to grate on him. The ADVENT Blacksite was a target-rich environment. Ripe for reaping and perfect for making pink clouds. Unfortunately, this was a supply mission, not an ambush. Efficiency was of the utmost priority here. He laid down on his belly, angling himself into a proper sniping position, eye through the scope shoulder against stock. Taking out his rangefinder from one of his pockets, Jimbo locked onto the barracks, waiting for the rangefinder to show the distance on display before radioing it to the infiltration team. It was just like the intel confirmed. The road and fence patrols were beginning to exchange shifts, meeting up at the barracks to do the switch.

“Muldoon to Ground Team,” Jimbo whispered through the radio. “The barracks are about 850 feet from your position. They’re changing shifts. Road and border patrols are beginning their checks right now from barracks. Over.”

Lukas, in the meanwhile, had been sighting his own spotting scope, set on the low-bearing tripod before him. His rifle was resting on its bipod and stock nearby as he changed the dials, communicating information to the shooter. “Got it sighted in, two-six-zero meters.” He pressed his eye to the lense of the device, squinting through the low-light assistance. “Windage is four knots, south-south west.” He grunted, spitting out a chunk of his tobacco nearby. “Sight in and call ‘em.” He communicated, continuing to keep his eye pressed to the spotting scope, pivoting it around the bipod slightly as he scoped out the visible tangos.

“Copy that,” Jimbo replied back, running the variables in his heads and making an effort not to cringe at the disgusting sound of his spotter’s habits dropping on the sodden dirt. He lowered his scope and began considering his options. The ADVENT troops were beginning to patrol in a counter-clockwise direction around the roads and the laser fencing. Jimbo mused for a moment that whoever had built the damn base was a fool. They were a veritable fish in a barrel, two cliffs jutting on each side of the base. The base commander hadn’t bothered to insert extra watchtowers, put more patrols on the roads or even send troops to do checks at the weak-points. If only they still had artillery……, oh well, there was no time for hope. He kept his scope trained on the fence patrols before turning it towards the infiltration team. He grumbled with a certain satisfaction as he spotted one of them taking out the guard in close-quarters, dragging his limp body away. He then turned his scope towards the patrols, frowning as he inched closer to the scope, thumb on the trigger.
“Ground team, be advised. Two tangos armed with MAG-3 rifles nearing your position at 200 meters away from your position. Bearing approximately 30 degrees on your position, south-west, over.”

(collab with @The Bork Lazer)
Made the suggested edits. I'm definitely looking forward to this.


May have missed some gear that I'll add in once I think of it, but here it is. As for system vs freeform, I do prefer freeform, but I'll go with a system if everyone can agree on something.

EDIT: And may I recommend making a discord? If not, I understand, but I just find the platform easier to use in quick communication concerning details and Q&A.
I'm super interested.
Interested.
@Letter Bee I favor the mecha concepts that are more grounded in reality out of personal preference because they seem believable, even if mecha will never be a good idea strategically or mechanically. The reason I like Pacific Rim is because it pays some lip service to the laws of inertia even while breaking a ton of other physics. They do quite well to maintain the suspension of disbelief. But once you throw inertia to the wind with the kind of rapid accelerations I see in snippets of Gundam, I just can't keep up that suspension of disbelief and I can't enjoy it anymore. Its not just about what I'm piloting, its about being able to buy into the universe that's been created. To that end I get ultra-picky when mechs are involved.

I do want to buy into a lot of parts of this universe you've created, so I'm not gonna say never. But my enjoyment generally ceases the instant a hundred ton bipedal war engine starts flying. This ended up far longer than it probably needed to be but you asked so I gave you the comprehensive answer.

Actually the max speeds of most suits in Gundam is only about 90 or so km/h (55 mph). Only absolutely crazy stuff like the Psycho Zaku (which required you to be a quadruple amputee to even use) went faster speeds. Not to mention most mobile suits had 360 degree thrusters to control their inertia and operated in space (i.e. a vacuum).

A helpful guide: gundam.wikia.com/wiki/Property:Max_Speed

EDIT: For ground-based mobile suits to even hope to get off the ground they had to have massive inbuilt thrusters or have a large thruster addition attached.
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