I’m definitely up for splitting up my idea and going halfsies with folks if people want to do that, I’ll be focusing my mind on the noble half of my concept for the time being to that end. People can feel free to hit me up if they want to do some collaboration.
- Last Seen: 3 hrs ago
- Joined: 8 yrs ago
- Posts: 1491 (0.50 / day)
- VMs: 2
-
Username history
- Fading Memory 8 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Guardian Angel Haruki,
tadcfnaf,
kalanggam,
Lurking Krog,
rush99999,
Sister Sable,
Lunamaria Hawke,
Alisdragon911,
Hibachi90,
DraconicDespair
Status
Recent Statuses
3 yrs ago
Current
Awake O Sleeper
1
like
4 yrs ago
Back From The Ashes. Again.
2
likes
8 yrs ago
Don't sweat the small stuff, it's all in your head
1
like
8 yrs ago
Back From The Ashes
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
Just letting the room know that I got infected with folks’ energy and struck some inspiration; I pitched at and got the ‘ok’ to work on a disinherited Japanese noble of the imperial line and their (definitely not a ninja) ‘knight’.
I'm still enjoying the atmosphere, keep the energy up you crazy cool cats.
The idea of an alternate universe where the monarchies held power with magic and the age of revolutions has culminated in peak Slice Of Life magic duel academies is highly amusing.
Howdy. I just wanted to say that this seems like it will be particularly fun to sit in on and watch, so if people don’t mind a lurker who may chime in from time to time I as a minimum will enjoy soaking up the vibes everyone is displaying and the high energy folks seem to have :)
I like the idea of the roleplay itself, and if I get inspiration or if someone finds themselves really needing a partner I would be willing to participate. To that end, here are my answers to rule 6:
I like the idea of the roleplay itself, and if I get inspiration or if someone finds themselves really needing a partner I would be willing to participate. To that end, here are my answers to rule 6:
I can get behind the vibe of ‘please fit the narrative’ and ‘these groups exist for a reason, use them’. Player cohesion is the biggest thing imo :)
I'm tentatively interested as well :) Always love seeing cyberpunk vibes pop up.
The skies burned and exploded above as Shrike prowled about the downed Carrier. Every few steps brought the Susanoo rifle up, and after a moment of charged deliberance the catastrophic beam of energy would erupt and blaze through a Drone that entered his field of view. The chaos of the battlefield and the prowling nature of his Shell's movements, for a few precious moments, brought him relative peace as he prepared himself for his anticipated close quarters engageme-
Fire rained down as the remaining aerial support forces consolidated their formations. Fire surged along the treeline, his squad's movements became a chaos of telemetry data on the archaic readout interface of his neural-helm, and Shrike was forced to back against the framework of the Carrier and lower his rifle. The left arm rose, the shield blazed to life, and he calmly bided his time as the temperature within his Shell steadily climbed. Torrent after torren of cannon fire rained against the energy barrier as Shrike silently listened to the comms chatter and observed movements. Sweat began to form along his arms, his palms growing moist, his forehead beading with the rising temperatures within the machine. As their strafing runs meandered back into strike positions, eventually the squad managed to eke out enough skyward damage for Shrike to have breathing room again.
As he lowered the barrier and emerged from a Shell-shaped silhouette blasted into the side of the downed carrier, Ijsvogel's advanced recon data hit his sensory overlay and Shrike, as was typical, sent a singular ping of acknowledgement to the data received. It meant there were no other surprises than this group waiting for them. But, alas, Shrike being pinned in position was a fateful situation indeed. Before he could continue circling the Carrier, the Ushi-Oni emerged unassailed. Shrike witnessed the eruption of that colossal beam on the far side of the ship and began to trigger a boost as Ava's orders came in over the combat channel. In the blink of an eye Shrike's own vengeful wrath was redirected; Ava said to link up with Ijsvogel, and the chain of command is a chain that binds.
"Moving to acquire your weapon, Ijsvogel. Prepare for assault."
The Shrike rounded the carrier, made direct visual contact on the Ushi-Oni-- and activated his boosters to leap up and over the damn thing and disregard it. He had to trust the others to do what they felt was best; a disarmed Ijsvogel was his duty now. The Susanoo rifle was slung onto his back as both arms locked into their reinforced talons, and when Shrike landed upon the ground it was right as Hachidori, Gizzard, and...Barn Owl collapsed towards it.
He couldn't help but chuckle privately, bitterly, to himself at witnessing Barn Owl's own passions become public.
The rain fell heavy upon the thick smoke of the burning jungle, but Shrike was ever the observant and tactically apprised individual; Following Ijsvogel's tracking data the Shrike plunged across the earth in a frenzied blur of lashing arms, throwing burning trees and massive gouts of earth into the air as the ancient Shell blazed a trail through the hellfire of the jungle until its hand unfuzed and came down upon the mighty machine gun of Ijsvogel. The heat of the flames and the straining of his radiator made him wary about triggering his boosters so frequently, thus the Shrike emerged from the flaming forest with heavy footfalls like a smoke-streaked demon of metal with the lost weapon in its right hand. He began a sprint back towards the carrier, left arm still poised for its lethal and brutal close combat intentions, before throwing the rifle to Ijsvogel when they were close enough to link up.
If all went well, Shrike would open that carrier like a tin can and they would tear through it before the other Shells turned on.
Fire rained down as the remaining aerial support forces consolidated their formations. Fire surged along the treeline, his squad's movements became a chaos of telemetry data on the archaic readout interface of his neural-helm, and Shrike was forced to back against the framework of the Carrier and lower his rifle. The left arm rose, the shield blazed to life, and he calmly bided his time as the temperature within his Shell steadily climbed. Torrent after torren of cannon fire rained against the energy barrier as Shrike silently listened to the comms chatter and observed movements. Sweat began to form along his arms, his palms growing moist, his forehead beading with the rising temperatures within the machine. As their strafing runs meandered back into strike positions, eventually the squad managed to eke out enough skyward damage for Shrike to have breathing room again.
As he lowered the barrier and emerged from a Shell-shaped silhouette blasted into the side of the downed carrier, Ijsvogel's advanced recon data hit his sensory overlay and Shrike, as was typical, sent a singular ping of acknowledgement to the data received. It meant there were no other surprises than this group waiting for them. But, alas, Shrike being pinned in position was a fateful situation indeed. Before he could continue circling the Carrier, the Ushi-Oni emerged unassailed. Shrike witnessed the eruption of that colossal beam on the far side of the ship and began to trigger a boost as Ava's orders came in over the combat channel. In the blink of an eye Shrike's own vengeful wrath was redirected; Ava said to link up with Ijsvogel, and the chain of command is a chain that binds.
"Moving to acquire your weapon, Ijsvogel. Prepare for assault."
The Shrike rounded the carrier, made direct visual contact on the Ushi-Oni-- and activated his boosters to leap up and over the damn thing and disregard it. He had to trust the others to do what they felt was best; a disarmed Ijsvogel was his duty now. The Susanoo rifle was slung onto his back as both arms locked into their reinforced talons, and when Shrike landed upon the ground it was right as Hachidori, Gizzard, and...Barn Owl collapsed towards it.
He couldn't help but chuckle privately, bitterly, to himself at witnessing Barn Owl's own passions become public.
The rain fell heavy upon the thick smoke of the burning jungle, but Shrike was ever the observant and tactically apprised individual; Following Ijsvogel's tracking data the Shrike plunged across the earth in a frenzied blur of lashing arms, throwing burning trees and massive gouts of earth into the air as the ancient Shell blazed a trail through the hellfire of the jungle until its hand unfuzed and came down upon the mighty machine gun of Ijsvogel. The heat of the flames and the straining of his radiator made him wary about triggering his boosters so frequently, thus the Shrike emerged from the flaming forest with heavy footfalls like a smoke-streaked demon of metal with the lost weapon in its right hand. He began a sprint back towards the carrier, left arm still poised for its lethal and brutal close combat intentions, before throwing the rifle to Ijsvogel when they were close enough to link up.
If all went well, Shrike would open that carrier like a tin can and they would tear through it before the other Shells turned on.
The suit's words were of a familiar kinship to Sunrise, his lingo and dialect resonating with her own upbringing. He was still a suit, no doubt about that, but in the end his words reeked of his desperation and fear. She relaxed her posture, letting the duster coat fall back over the holster of her revolver as she crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her head to peer out from beneath the hat.
Six goons, armed for bear and kitted like tanks. She appraised them in a slow manner, sucking on the inside of her cheek and chewing on it lightly as she did so; if push came to shove, six on three weren't great odds but she'd dealt with worse and with lower quality companions. By her sussin' and their jabberin', Sunrise kenned that Flint and Steel could square dance with these goons if they had to and that bolstered her own rebellious embers...
But there was a job to do, and this man could be worked. Black Jack's tongue ran smooth and made Sunrise's stomach churn as he yarned at Richard; the lad was a fast talker for sure, she made mental note. In timely fashion, Sunrise leaned forward off her perch and made an easygoing, open handed, sweeping gesture of peaceful intentions that also seemed as if she were embracing the day as she stepped forward.
"Pal, you seem like a Dick to me rather than a Richard. Mind if I all ya Dick? We're appreciatin' such a warm welcome... By my reckonin' this ain't normal formals."
She fell into a slow, methodical, swaggering gait as she trailed behind a few paces.
"It's yer house so you set the tune. How's this gonna go?"
Six goons, armed for bear and kitted like tanks. She appraised them in a slow manner, sucking on the inside of her cheek and chewing on it lightly as she did so; if push came to shove, six on three weren't great odds but she'd dealt with worse and with lower quality companions. By her sussin' and their jabberin', Sunrise kenned that Flint and Steel could square dance with these goons if they had to and that bolstered her own rebellious embers...
But there was a job to do, and this man could be worked. Black Jack's tongue ran smooth and made Sunrise's stomach churn as he yarned at Richard; the lad was a fast talker for sure, she made mental note. In timely fashion, Sunrise leaned forward off her perch and made an easygoing, open handed, sweeping gesture of peaceful intentions that also seemed as if she were embracing the day as she stepped forward.
"Pal, you seem like a Dick to me rather than a Richard. Mind if I all ya Dick? We're appreciatin' such a warm welcome... By my reckonin' this ain't normal formals."
She fell into a slow, methodical, swaggering gait as she trailed behind a few paces.
"It's yer house so you set the tune. How's this gonna go?"
Julia Meyer. The girl's image filled Sunrise's eyes, which in turn meant it filled her mind. The wide brimmed gambler hat hid her eyes from most angles in the transport's rear seating, but the hologram glow filtered beneath her visual shield and imprinted the target's visage into Sunrise's memory.
"Mm..." She grunted as she leaned forward, lifting a hand to flick the hat upwards and reveal her face to the other members of the crew as she swept a slow gaze around them. "...Little lady'll stand out sore-like. Putting eyes on 'er will be easy 'nuff... Once we find out where she's holed up. If she's anything like me, she's gon' be in the desert with the guilders."
Sunrise leaned back, propping a boot up onto the side of the hologram projector and manually triggering the next slideshow image with her heel. The gambler hat settled back into a neutral position atop her head, a thick curl of crimson hair falling loose and framing her face in the process. She licked her teeth slow before continuing on.
"We'll see soon, by my reckonin'. She's a big item, but she cut and run on her pa; doubtin' we'll have luck asking by name."
She fell silent, giving the others ample opportunity to fill the silence as the Rockefeller made its final descent to Fiction. The thud of landing gear upon ground signaled Sunrise's rise to her feet. When Trey entered the passenger area, Sunrise swept a hand across her duster and let it billow to its full length. Trey's news about the deadline and the incoming peacekeeper forces warranted a silent nod- but his next piece of news brought her own attention to the horizon.
"...Don't like it, I'll let you folk to the talkin' on this one." She commented as she stepped from the shuttle, eyes studying the encroaching suit and his security. She leaned back against the landing leg of the Rockefeller shuttle, sweeping one arm low and brushing the duster back from her hip holster on her left side to grant ease of access and brazen display of her imposing revolver, the Gabriel. Her other hand rose and in silence made the sign of the cross, tapping at her forehead beneath the hat- then pulling it down over her eyes- before centering on her chest, then completing the motion in a left-to-right sweep.
"Mm..." She grunted as she leaned forward, lifting a hand to flick the hat upwards and reveal her face to the other members of the crew as she swept a slow gaze around them. "...Little lady'll stand out sore-like. Putting eyes on 'er will be easy 'nuff... Once we find out where she's holed up. If she's anything like me, she's gon' be in the desert with the guilders."
Sunrise leaned back, propping a boot up onto the side of the hologram projector and manually triggering the next slideshow image with her heel. The gambler hat settled back into a neutral position atop her head, a thick curl of crimson hair falling loose and framing her face in the process. She licked her teeth slow before continuing on.
"We'll see soon, by my reckonin'. She's a big item, but she cut and run on her pa; doubtin' we'll have luck asking by name."
She fell silent, giving the others ample opportunity to fill the silence as the Rockefeller made its final descent to Fiction. The thud of landing gear upon ground signaled Sunrise's rise to her feet. When Trey entered the passenger area, Sunrise swept a hand across her duster and let it billow to its full length. Trey's news about the deadline and the incoming peacekeeper forces warranted a silent nod- but his next piece of news brought her own attention to the horizon.
"...Don't like it, I'll let you folk to the talkin' on this one." She commented as she stepped from the shuttle, eyes studying the encroaching suit and his security. She leaned back against the landing leg of the Rockefeller shuttle, sweeping one arm low and brushing the duster back from her hip holster on her left side to grant ease of access and brazen display of her imposing revolver, the Gabriel. Her other hand rose and in silence made the sign of the cross, tapping at her forehead beneath the hat- then pulling it down over her eyes- before centering on her chest, then completing the motion in a left-to-right sweep.
© 2007-2026