FourtyTwo Member
STATUS: 10+ years of an RP idea, finally finished, on 10.10.2025. Goodnight Raven Squad, you were the best, wildest, most silly near future SOF RP that lived on the guild, and you got a worthy send off :) 9 mos ago
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- Old Guild Username: kingkonrad
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
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10+ years of an RP idea, finally finished, on 10.10.2025. Goodnight Raven Squad, you were the best, wildest, most silly near future SOF RP that lived on the guild, and you got a worthy send off :)
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Bio
I've RP'd for the best part of over 15 years now here on the Guild, and particularly like military settings, both contemporary, past and near future. I have even dabbled in a little more experimental RPs, as well as created a plethora of 1x1s over my time in the guild. I like creating RPs with a distinct flavour- and often shift between narrative-led RPs to semi-randomised plots. I've been more a GM lately than a player, and don't really lean into fandom- instead, exploring my own universes lifting themes from other source material.
My main interests are military-themed, near-future RPs, with a focus on technology. But I'm beginning to push what that RP idea looks like- taking inspiration from lots of media and focussing on the fun, indulgent side of RP, whilst also exploring the lows and emotional side.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/190121-rav…
Raven Squad is a project over seven years in the making, and focusses on a class-based, eccentric yet half-grounded near future special forces team that acts as a response team where you can't send any special forces team in. It's incredibly dumb, incredibly loose, and yet, has delivered some of my favourite plot points in RPG. A brainless action flick a la John Wick and Kingsman meets a complex thriller with a fun left turn in it, Raven has been the culmination of over a decade of loving special forces RPG, gaming influences and other silliness in a package that has provided players with something quite different to a normal military themed RPG. While at an end, this is an RP that is a signature- it's silly as hell, takes itself barely seriously, and is what peak fun military RPG to me should be.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/192916-del…
Delta Hyper is a love letter to Wipeout, F1's Drive to Survive (Netflix) and contemporary Formula One, with influences from solarpunk, cyberpunk, transhumanism and other posthumanist concepts. An RP that follows pilots in their ups and downs, it's a story that hasn't got me playing an actual character, but framing the camera at each pilot (played by others), and presenting it as if it were a documentary. Lifting elements from TTRPG, this is a Racing RPG like no other and no parallel exists- using dice rolls and randomisation, with a stats-driven system to generate race results, rather than actually RPing the races, players experience the fast-paced, dynamic world of anti-gravity racing. This means that come Qualifying and Race, the results are genuinely a surprise to everyone- and based on decisions made through dilemmas and decisions made between races. Friendships, rivalry, the glamour and even a little political undertone play out in 2094, in a colourful, utopian future that focuses on the fight to take first place.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/196931-tac…
Then there's Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex. First use of any set IP as a formal setting, this is an RP that offers a darker mirror to Raven Squad, focussing on the other side of the equation- unlikely heroes in an uncomfortable position. I don't normally do fantasy, but the world, the lore, the feeling of the characters and the ability to write a comedy just was too difficult to pass up. An RP that focuses on a group running away from a variety of threats as wanted mercenary wizards in the middle of a post-revolution, Eastern-Europe adjacent 1990s to present Polavia.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/197399-dis…
Lastly, Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont. This is another IP-adjacent world, albeit drawing on a different setting and a new cast of superheroes. As my "first" proper superhero RP, this combines workplace comedy, a Storyteller-lite system and a fun, diverse, and large cast together in a dynamic, diverse setting.
I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy. I aim to clear posts within a week!
My main interests are military-themed, near-future RPs, with a focus on technology. But I'm beginning to push what that RP idea looks like- taking inspiration from lots of media and focussing on the fun, indulgent side of RP, whilst also exploring the lows and emotional side.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/190121-rav…
Raven Squad is a project over seven years in the making, and focusses on a class-based, eccentric yet half-grounded near future special forces team that acts as a response team where you can't send any special forces team in. It's incredibly dumb, incredibly loose, and yet, has delivered some of my favourite plot points in RPG. A brainless action flick a la John Wick and Kingsman meets a complex thriller with a fun left turn in it, Raven has been the culmination of over a decade of loving special forces RPG, gaming influences and other silliness in a package that has provided players with something quite different to a normal military themed RPG. While at an end, this is an RP that is a signature- it's silly as hell, takes itself barely seriously, and is what peak fun military RPG to me should be.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/192916-del…
Delta Hyper is a love letter to Wipeout, F1's Drive to Survive (Netflix) and contemporary Formula One, with influences from solarpunk, cyberpunk, transhumanism and other posthumanist concepts. An RP that follows pilots in their ups and downs, it's a story that hasn't got me playing an actual character, but framing the camera at each pilot (played by others), and presenting it as if it were a documentary. Lifting elements from TTRPG, this is a Racing RPG like no other and no parallel exists- using dice rolls and randomisation, with a stats-driven system to generate race results, rather than actually RPing the races, players experience the fast-paced, dynamic world of anti-gravity racing. This means that come Qualifying and Race, the results are genuinely a surprise to everyone- and based on decisions made through dilemmas and decisions made between races. Friendships, rivalry, the glamour and even a little political undertone play out in 2094, in a colourful, utopian future that focuses on the fight to take first place.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/196931-tac…
Then there's Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex. First use of any set IP as a formal setting, this is an RP that offers a darker mirror to Raven Squad, focussing on the other side of the equation- unlikely heroes in an uncomfortable position. I don't normally do fantasy, but the world, the lore, the feeling of the characters and the ability to write a comedy just was too difficult to pass up. An RP that focuses on a group running away from a variety of threats as wanted mercenary wizards in the middle of a post-revolution, Eastern-Europe adjacent 1990s to present Polavia.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/197399-dis…
Lastly, Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont. This is another IP-adjacent world, albeit drawing on a different setting and a new cast of superheroes. As my "first" proper superhero RP, this combines workplace comedy, a Storyteller-lite system and a fun, diverse, and large cast together in a dynamic, diverse setting.
I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy. I aim to clear posts within a week!
Most Recent Posts
@Silverwind Blade
Bloody hell :P
I was thinking that! I like the idea of Max using a hybrid- kinda like the Mk14 EBR IRL. It's a full auto and semi-auto rifle, good for marksman stuff but also capable as a battle rifle up close.
Bloody hell :P
I was thinking that! I like the idea of Max using a hybrid- kinda like the Mk14 EBR IRL. It's a full auto and semi-auto rifle, good for marksman stuff but also capable as a battle rifle up close.
@Silverwind Blade
@Ramjammer
Brilliant :P I'm sure one will get dreamt up- I can't think of any sadly!
I've posted- my post is awfully long(ger than it should be) so apologies for that- Max is on a mission for coffee!
@Ramjammer
Brilliant :P I'm sure one will get dreamt up- I can't think of any sadly!
I've posted- my post is awfully long(ger than it should be) so apologies for that- Max is on a mission for coffee!
@Silverwind Blade
Max took a seat, feeling that maybe indeed, everyone was quiet for reasons other than it just being the morning. He looked back across at the deer, the tag "Sobero" ringing a bell. She must have been in that other family Dad spoke about all those years ago, Max thought to himself....he heard something about their youngest signing up back when he joined the reconaissance company and underwent selection. Alas, for now he had a briefing to listen to, and General Vresco's presence here gave this all some legitimacy. It felt serious- he was involved at the top echelon of decisions in Solernia's national defence and the other lion in the room felt a little contrary to him.
Listening in, he couldn't place what kind of evil this was. Killing people was one thing, but abductions? This wasn't a terrorist group, it sounded like some kind of cult, like those headcases in Simal. Even then, it wasn't their motive, nor care to do it on a scale this wide. The disappearances of major figures in science and government just seemed odd. Like someone was trying to pull the bricks out of Solernia, and whatever it was, Max just seemed puzzled. It wasn't like the peacekeeping work in Embrai he was tasked with, it felt like an invisible hand. A threat you couldn't see, and what he couldn't see with his observer's eyes he couldn't hit. A knife in the dark.
Max continued to pay attention, hearing the scope of what this was going to be like as an operation. Joint task force work was fine, albeit sometimes scrappy by his standards- other armies were good but had their own protocols and ways of doing things. So long as they didn't get in the way of the ultimate role of this team, he was happy with that. Which again, he also was up for. The decision was very straightforward, even in spite of how dangerous it sounded. But then again, Max wanted the next step, and he'd be dammed if he went back to his old unit, watched by another group of bloody officers on top of his old CO. So it made sense to him, as he nodded to Silverwind, giving a direct and affermative look to say without words that he was in. His story itself, and the mission brief blended well, giving a flavour of what Max's new squad would be up to. Combined-forces, helicopter insertions and GEARs in an anti-piracy dawn raid, taking down an unknown enemey. It sounded like insanity to most people. Practically like suicide. But two things stood out to Max. They wouldn't be going in that force if they didn't stand a chance. The best gear, and a lot of effort to make sure they had the edge in this fight. And well....it did sound pretty fucking awesome. Maybe it was going to be exactly the opposite, but well, he didn't really see any other choice for himself right now. Whoever this enemy was, the 33rd were coming for them now. And if Max had his place here, he was going to take it.
-----
Listening into the last bit, Max nodded as he stood, looking up at the briefing map once again with his arms by side. He looked up to Silverwind, then back at the others before he spoke.
"Count me in. Insertion sounds like it'll be intense for Isenor. It'll certainly be shock and awe for whoever we're visiting...if everything says there is an enemy there. You've got my eyes for whatever you need, Captain- us recon boys are a bit madder than most so I'm all ears. If you need me, send a ping on my Pebble...otherwise I think I'll go and set my bunk and equipment up." He said, looking to the others, the lion stern in his own easily-going way.
"Sorry guys. But till I find a coffee, I'm really going to...." Max started, the lion yawning loudly as he did, covering his gob as he tried that impossible thing of trying to not yawn while you're talking to people.
"....find it difficult to stay awake! I'll be over in the mess hall soon if you want to chat!" His comedic timing seemed to have a charm at times, but man, Max really wished it wasn't like that. Without any further ado and social awkwardness, WO Bastion left the briefing room to set himself up. If he hadn't and kept talking, he'd have probably passed out, he figured to himself. Lack of caffiene did that to him, he humoured internally to himself.
----
With a sigh, Max headed out and into the corridor, looking for their sleeping quarters. The corvette was small, so it was a little more straightforward than other ships he'd been on. As such it made it easy to find, as he entered into his bunk, almost bonking his head on the doorframe. How the hell Fionn was going to get around this ship, Max did not know- as a lion he was having enough trouble as it was. Exhaling, he found his kit set up there already, already taking out some personal posessions and a few other things. Not a lot, but things he wanted to sort nonetheless. A locket of him and his siblings in a photo, as well as a small scrapbook of old squad photos and his personal life. Family, friends, the good tiems doing the lunacy he so loved. Memories he had, some of it felt like it was a world away from where he stood, right here. His usual pilot's gear was also there, the armour mounted up on a rack on the bunk from toe to helmet neatly placed atop. His Warrant Officer's insignia on the arm, and surname looking back at Max on the upper left of the chest. It was all back to reality again, he reminded himself. Even the trusty smart goggles he used, when sniping was there, a better tool for him given he prefered wider target purchase than the pilot's lid allowed for.
After setting up his own sea-bourne home from home, it was next stop, armoury. A simple place to go, as he didn't need to do a lot. The armourer could only nod as Max had headed in, finding the rack, that contained the rifle, pistol, and knife of his choice. That and the webbing that would attach to the torso of his suit, containing a variety of fragmentation and smoke grenades, alongside a couple of flares and IR beacons. His trusty PID was also there, the reconaissance monacle he called his laser designator, all-round observer and thermal imaging tool at range. That went alongside his drone, a tool stored commonly in his GEAR but also man-portable when he had to carry something extra on top of his pack. It paid to be ready for what was over the hill- and Max had seen his ass saved by it plenty of times.
Checking his rifle over, Max pulled the bolt back, squaring it against his shoulder, tilting it. The M23 ISS might have started life for some of the recon boys as a bigger infantry rifle that just didn't have the poke as a deisgnated marksman rifle, but with an overpressure barrel and a modified heavy-hitting 6mm round, Max made this rifle work more than needed. Heavy recoil, but it gave him exactly what he wanted. After all, you didn't need to bring an Anti-Material rifle when what you needed was just a bit more reach with your small arm. A 30 round mag was in the well, different to the usual 10 a marksman would choose- after all, Max had done, and would use this thing as an assault rifle, at a right-hand 45 degree having a green-dotted holographic optic that gave him a little more versatlity. Close quarters was something best saved for his M8 anyawy, the tricked-out recon-spec pistol now equipped with a LEM, silencer and a competition-spec red dot optic. He was told they'd get him a select-fire version of one of these one day, but alas, Max wasn't holding his breath, checking the 18-round mag out. All content, the lion had kind of been in his own zone, sorting out his own stuff first before coming back to it. Now he REALLY needed coffee.
-------
Which came just in time, Max thought to himself as he poured it into his cup from the large tank in the mess hall, the hall quiet with a few sailors hanging around for what to them was a fairly late breakfast. Sipping down the brew, he exhaled, looking around for his team. He couldn't pick them out yet, so quickly swiped out his Pebble and sent across a simple ping on their connected net. It was going to be a long eight hours. There was more work to do on preparing their GEARs, and on the ocean voyage, no doubt personal roles within the team. He sat and waited, waiting to see who was going to pop over and join him for a dose of morning wake-up call.
Max took a seat, feeling that maybe indeed, everyone was quiet for reasons other than it just being the morning. He looked back across at the deer, the tag "Sobero" ringing a bell. She must have been in that other family Dad spoke about all those years ago, Max thought to himself....he heard something about their youngest signing up back when he joined the reconaissance company and underwent selection. Alas, for now he had a briefing to listen to, and General Vresco's presence here gave this all some legitimacy. It felt serious- he was involved at the top echelon of decisions in Solernia's national defence and the other lion in the room felt a little contrary to him.
Listening in, he couldn't place what kind of evil this was. Killing people was one thing, but abductions? This wasn't a terrorist group, it sounded like some kind of cult, like those headcases in Simal. Even then, it wasn't their motive, nor care to do it on a scale this wide. The disappearances of major figures in science and government just seemed odd. Like someone was trying to pull the bricks out of Solernia, and whatever it was, Max just seemed puzzled. It wasn't like the peacekeeping work in Embrai he was tasked with, it felt like an invisible hand. A threat you couldn't see, and what he couldn't see with his observer's eyes he couldn't hit. A knife in the dark.
Max continued to pay attention, hearing the scope of what this was going to be like as an operation. Joint task force work was fine, albeit sometimes scrappy by his standards- other armies were good but had their own protocols and ways of doing things. So long as they didn't get in the way of the ultimate role of this team, he was happy with that. Which again, he also was up for. The decision was very straightforward, even in spite of how dangerous it sounded. But then again, Max wanted the next step, and he'd be dammed if he went back to his old unit, watched by another group of bloody officers on top of his old CO. So it made sense to him, as he nodded to Silverwind, giving a direct and affermative look to say without words that he was in. His story itself, and the mission brief blended well, giving a flavour of what Max's new squad would be up to. Combined-forces, helicopter insertions and GEARs in an anti-piracy dawn raid, taking down an unknown enemey. It sounded like insanity to most people. Practically like suicide. But two things stood out to Max. They wouldn't be going in that force if they didn't stand a chance. The best gear, and a lot of effort to make sure they had the edge in this fight. And well....it did sound pretty fucking awesome. Maybe it was going to be exactly the opposite, but well, he didn't really see any other choice for himself right now. Whoever this enemy was, the 33rd were coming for them now. And if Max had his place here, he was going to take it.
-----
Listening into the last bit, Max nodded as he stood, looking up at the briefing map once again with his arms by side. He looked up to Silverwind, then back at the others before he spoke.
"Count me in. Insertion sounds like it'll be intense for Isenor. It'll certainly be shock and awe for whoever we're visiting...if everything says there is an enemy there. You've got my eyes for whatever you need, Captain- us recon boys are a bit madder than most so I'm all ears. If you need me, send a ping on my Pebble...otherwise I think I'll go and set my bunk and equipment up." He said, looking to the others, the lion stern in his own easily-going way.
"Sorry guys. But till I find a coffee, I'm really going to...." Max started, the lion yawning loudly as he did, covering his gob as he tried that impossible thing of trying to not yawn while you're talking to people.
"....find it difficult to stay awake! I'll be over in the mess hall soon if you want to chat!" His comedic timing seemed to have a charm at times, but man, Max really wished it wasn't like that. Without any further ado and social awkwardness, WO Bastion left the briefing room to set himself up. If he hadn't and kept talking, he'd have probably passed out, he figured to himself. Lack of caffiene did that to him, he humoured internally to himself.
----
With a sigh, Max headed out and into the corridor, looking for their sleeping quarters. The corvette was small, so it was a little more straightforward than other ships he'd been on. As such it made it easy to find, as he entered into his bunk, almost bonking his head on the doorframe. How the hell Fionn was going to get around this ship, Max did not know- as a lion he was having enough trouble as it was. Exhaling, he found his kit set up there already, already taking out some personal posessions and a few other things. Not a lot, but things he wanted to sort nonetheless. A locket of him and his siblings in a photo, as well as a small scrapbook of old squad photos and his personal life. Family, friends, the good tiems doing the lunacy he so loved. Memories he had, some of it felt like it was a world away from where he stood, right here. His usual pilot's gear was also there, the armour mounted up on a rack on the bunk from toe to helmet neatly placed atop. His Warrant Officer's insignia on the arm, and surname looking back at Max on the upper left of the chest. It was all back to reality again, he reminded himself. Even the trusty smart goggles he used, when sniping was there, a better tool for him given he prefered wider target purchase than the pilot's lid allowed for.
After setting up his own sea-bourne home from home, it was next stop, armoury. A simple place to go, as he didn't need to do a lot. The armourer could only nod as Max had headed in, finding the rack, that contained the rifle, pistol, and knife of his choice. That and the webbing that would attach to the torso of his suit, containing a variety of fragmentation and smoke grenades, alongside a couple of flares and IR beacons. His trusty PID was also there, the reconaissance monacle he called his laser designator, all-round observer and thermal imaging tool at range. That went alongside his drone, a tool stored commonly in his GEAR but also man-portable when he had to carry something extra on top of his pack. It paid to be ready for what was over the hill- and Max had seen his ass saved by it plenty of times.
Checking his rifle over, Max pulled the bolt back, squaring it against his shoulder, tilting it. The M23 ISS might have started life for some of the recon boys as a bigger infantry rifle that just didn't have the poke as a deisgnated marksman rifle, but with an overpressure barrel and a modified heavy-hitting 6mm round, Max made this rifle work more than needed. Heavy recoil, but it gave him exactly what he wanted. After all, you didn't need to bring an Anti-Material rifle when what you needed was just a bit more reach with your small arm. A 30 round mag was in the well, different to the usual 10 a marksman would choose- after all, Max had done, and would use this thing as an assault rifle, at a right-hand 45 degree having a green-dotted holographic optic that gave him a little more versatlity. Close quarters was something best saved for his M8 anyawy, the tricked-out recon-spec pistol now equipped with a LEM, silencer and a competition-spec red dot optic. He was told they'd get him a select-fire version of one of these one day, but alas, Max wasn't holding his breath, checking the 18-round mag out. All content, the lion had kind of been in his own zone, sorting out his own stuff first before coming back to it. Now he REALLY needed coffee.
-------
Which came just in time, Max thought to himself as he poured it into his cup from the large tank in the mess hall, the hall quiet with a few sailors hanging around for what to them was a fairly late breakfast. Sipping down the brew, he exhaled, looking around for his team. He couldn't pick them out yet, so quickly swiped out his Pebble and sent across a simple ping on their connected net. It was going to be a long eight hours. There was more work to do on preparing their GEARs, and on the ocean voyage, no doubt personal roles within the team. He sat and waited, waiting to see who was going to pop over and join him for a dose of morning wake-up call.
@Silverwind Blade
Awesome! I like the upcoming stuff to come.
Just to check a potential typo- its the 303rd, not the 33rd just to check? I might have put my stuff wrong or not, I'm not sure :P ]
Gonna crank out a post now- feel free to start interacting with Max in any order.
Awesome! I like the upcoming stuff to come.
Just to check a potential typo- its the 303rd, not the 33rd just to check? I might have put my stuff wrong or not, I'm not sure :P ]
Gonna crank out a post now- feel free to start interacting with Max in any order.
Duplicate
Everyone else’s post makes me feel so pitiful with the size of mine v.v I know there needs to be one with the smallest but I can’t help but feel self conscious XD
Size doesn't always matter- in some ways your character is a smaller target! :p
Feel free to chat with Max (anyone)- he's blunt but a good laugh!
A new start, Max thought to himself as he yawned loudly, further down the quay from the cargo vessel he'd been commanded to be near and walking towards the rest of the team. While Max was a disciplined and stoic individual, a lion's yawn was not something you got rid of easily, given how much he absolutely loved sleep. No matter how many years he'd served and how disciplined he was, a good bed and just doing nothing was time to enjoy, savor and take in before the world came back and threw its intensity right back. It was time to think, recuperate, rest; before being ready for it all again.
Well, today was time to get back to something and not be sleepy. While a new start was always a lie, he thought to himself, the easygoing Warrant Officer Maxwell Fitzroy Bastion was at least aware that something kept as quiet as this was always going to be interesting. And well, it beat hanging around his old CO.
He was wearing the full fatigues of a reconnaissance specialist in the RSDF, from a pair of sturdy boots to a long-sleeve shirt and trouser combo camoflaged in a light grey-brown, his golden fur short and well kept as the lion headed over towards the rest, a black duffel bag over his shoulder filled with his personal possessions and equipment. He looked smart, the mark of a special forces soldier no less, Max looking like he was a grunt like any other...if you didn't look at his face. His mane was left just the way he liked it, brushing in the wind and almost blowing into his eyes, a surfer's choice almost. While his whiskers were short, he did have the look of someone who was definitely experiencing the morning.
Even the other lion he had known about in this whole organisation, General Versco no less, was much more professional, more honorable and smart. Lions were the height of sophistication some would say, loyal and neat guards that were neither brutes nor timid when in their service. The cynical truth was, Max thought to himself, was that it didn't really exist when you had your back up against the wall. And not when you didn't really fit in like everyone else. When you're a recon operative, rules go out the window.
Coming into line, he looked at the others, taking in the Captain, and the other three that had assembled here so far. All were shorter than him, bar the brown bear, who towered over the others in a way that wasn't very hard to explain. The Captain, Silverwind Blade was a figure even Max had heard stories about, the one-armed cyclops a formidable GEARS pilot and veteran of conflicts come by. Worn and weathered, but older and capable of commanding a unit like this. Accented too, from what he could overhear when he spoke with the smaller ensign, it just wasn't easily placed. And well, happy to crack a joke at least. This was already better than his last CO. If Silverwind looked after him, Max would return the favor. He owed that much at least.
The Bear, the Ibex and the Otter, on the other hand, he couldn't entirely tell. The former seemed quiet, almost shy, Max thought to himself. But probably not a great idea to piss him off if he did have an opinion. The reason Max had his scar was because he'd gotten into a fight with a Polar Bear, no less. No matter what training you have, or how ballsy you were, he now knew you just picked your fights a little better. So it made sense that he'd be the one carrying heavier weaponry- a team like this needed someone who was happy to bring ordinance to the party, even if he seemed very young compared to the others.
While the Ibex seemed....familiar to war, albeit in a different way. She was older, but weathered from war- a medic of some kind, it would appear. Neat and clean, yet like any Ibex that Max had already met, stubborn and straight to the point. Efficiency above all, but something said internally to him that she wasn't like Max in that way- someone in favor of order rather than the flow of chaos. A scout, someone used to the wilds, but something different. The otter, Max just couldn't get any bead on. Apart from being tiny, he could only guess she was here as the tech specialist, if her equipment seemed to suggest that- and getting back to her feet after that little trip to the floor.
And Max? Well, to the others no doubt, he was as proud as any lion could be, standing with his back straight and ready to attention, looking to the others with a gentle glance. Rough around the edges, but ready to do his work as the eyes of this team as he listened to Silverwind's brief.
"Understood, Captain." Max replied to Silverwind, giving a gentle nod as he looked to the other three, following behind the squirrel and the fox onto the vessel being loaded with transportation crates. Looking over his shoulder to the others, he guessed he had to try and break through somewhat, at least make some impression.
"I'm just hoping for some coffee on board. I'm feeling it this morning." Max added to the others. His accent could be more distinguished now, an undertone that was harsh albeit inviting, like he wasn't trying to scare the others but for someone smaller, easily could have come out like that.
He really couldn't do smalltalk, but hey, at least he was trying to compensate for his faults this morning.
Where they were going, he didn't know. What they were doing, he didn't know. But somehow, Max felt oddly optimistic for even his pragmatic self.
Well, today was time to get back to something and not be sleepy. While a new start was always a lie, he thought to himself, the easygoing Warrant Officer Maxwell Fitzroy Bastion was at least aware that something kept as quiet as this was always going to be interesting. And well, it beat hanging around his old CO.
He was wearing the full fatigues of a reconnaissance specialist in the RSDF, from a pair of sturdy boots to a long-sleeve shirt and trouser combo camoflaged in a light grey-brown, his golden fur short and well kept as the lion headed over towards the rest, a black duffel bag over his shoulder filled with his personal possessions and equipment. He looked smart, the mark of a special forces soldier no less, Max looking like he was a grunt like any other...if you didn't look at his face. His mane was left just the way he liked it, brushing in the wind and almost blowing into his eyes, a surfer's choice almost. While his whiskers were short, he did have the look of someone who was definitely experiencing the morning.
Even the other lion he had known about in this whole organisation, General Versco no less, was much more professional, more honorable and smart. Lions were the height of sophistication some would say, loyal and neat guards that were neither brutes nor timid when in their service. The cynical truth was, Max thought to himself, was that it didn't really exist when you had your back up against the wall. And not when you didn't really fit in like everyone else. When you're a recon operative, rules go out the window.
Coming into line, he looked at the others, taking in the Captain, and the other three that had assembled here so far. All were shorter than him, bar the brown bear, who towered over the others in a way that wasn't very hard to explain. The Captain, Silverwind Blade was a figure even Max had heard stories about, the one-armed cyclops a formidable GEARS pilot and veteran of conflicts come by. Worn and weathered, but older and capable of commanding a unit like this. Accented too, from what he could overhear when he spoke with the smaller ensign, it just wasn't easily placed. And well, happy to crack a joke at least. This was already better than his last CO. If Silverwind looked after him, Max would return the favor. He owed that much at least.
The Bear, the Ibex and the Otter, on the other hand, he couldn't entirely tell. The former seemed quiet, almost shy, Max thought to himself. But probably not a great idea to piss him off if he did have an opinion. The reason Max had his scar was because he'd gotten into a fight with a Polar Bear, no less. No matter what training you have, or how ballsy you were, he now knew you just picked your fights a little better. So it made sense that he'd be the one carrying heavier weaponry- a team like this needed someone who was happy to bring ordinance to the party, even if he seemed very young compared to the others.
While the Ibex seemed....familiar to war, albeit in a different way. She was older, but weathered from war- a medic of some kind, it would appear. Neat and clean, yet like any Ibex that Max had already met, stubborn and straight to the point. Efficiency above all, but something said internally to him that she wasn't like Max in that way- someone in favor of order rather than the flow of chaos. A scout, someone used to the wilds, but something different. The otter, Max just couldn't get any bead on. Apart from being tiny, he could only guess she was here as the tech specialist, if her equipment seemed to suggest that- and getting back to her feet after that little trip to the floor.
And Max? Well, to the others no doubt, he was as proud as any lion could be, standing with his back straight and ready to attention, looking to the others with a gentle glance. Rough around the edges, but ready to do his work as the eyes of this team as he listened to Silverwind's brief.
"Understood, Captain." Max replied to Silverwind, giving a gentle nod as he looked to the other three, following behind the squirrel and the fox onto the vessel being loaded with transportation crates. Looking over his shoulder to the others, he guessed he had to try and break through somewhat, at least make some impression.
"I'm just hoping for some coffee on board. I'm feeling it this morning." Max added to the others. His accent could be more distinguished now, an undertone that was harsh albeit inviting, like he wasn't trying to scare the others but for someone smaller, easily could have come out like that.
He really couldn't do smalltalk, but hey, at least he was trying to compensate for his faults this morning.
Where they were going, he didn't know. What they were doing, he didn't know. But somehow, Max felt oddly optimistic for even his pragmatic self.
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