Krayzikk

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

<Snipped quote by Krayzikk>

Images

@harinezumikouken

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

<Snipped quote by Krayzikk>

Is that what you really think of your fellow players?

@Lugubrious

No. It is quite easy to be quite fond of specific people, but be rather irritated by what happens when they're in the same place and bored. It's much the same principle as loving Skittles and chocolate, but having no desire to put them together. Or how bad an idea alcohol and painkillers are.

I can be, and am, quite fond of a significant number of you lot. That doesn't mean the OOC doesn't often make me want to put my skull through a wall.

<Snipped quote by Krayzikk>

What I'm going to do now. Is every day I'm going to mention you.

...

....

And ask how you're doing and remind you that you're loved.

@harinezumikouken

Don't test me, Harine, I just finished organizing my reaction image folders.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

<Snipped quote by Suku>

Because it's the best part of the day! =D

@Abillioncats

It's really, really not.

There's a reason I ignore the OOC ninety nine point nine percent of the time. I rather enjoy my IQ where it is, and would not enjoy the drops that slamming my head into my desk as many times as the OOC would require would cause. Nor do I particularly need my blood pressure raised, though if the doctor ever says I need medication for that, I'll decline. Because I can just start regularly reading the OOC.

Σωτήρ: the Solar Age (Mecha) - Still Accepting

After-Action Report

They didn’t get the feeling right.

Hanging in the void, the infinite nothingness that surrounded the infinitesimally small bubble of safety within which she resided, that was the only thought that persisted within her mind. They didn’t get the feeling back. Rising Star had been inside cockpits like the Valk’s since she was a teen. They had been video games, then, cutting edge simulator games. The tournaments she competed in for the fun, for the challenge. The same tournaments that landed her a position with X Corp. When she stepped into the cockpit of a real HFV for the first time it was like greeting an old friend. Solar Age had been an accurate simulation down to the minute tactile feedback the machines would give. Simulations, live-fire exercises, they had all been so similar to real combat.

But they couldn’t capture how it felt when the fighting stopped.

This was the sensation that consumed her being, that which seeped into every corner of her mind as she regarded the scene before her. The Bradley was listless, like a marionette with its strings cut. Shrapnel floated between the two machines along with, she could have sworn, droplets of crimson. An eerie mirror to the ones within her own cockpit. Everything was so still. The battle had been intoxicating, an adrenaline rush the likes of which she had never experienced. The stakes were real, the maneuvers were real, the need to succeed, the necessity of success, couldn’t be higher. Actual lives, her own, her comrades’, her enemies’, rode on the outcome of her choices. It was thrilling in a way she could never describe, on a level far above even the most exhilarating moments in her simulations. It made her feel alive in a visceral way that she would have never imagined.

Sasha had been intoxicated, once. On alcohol, not in the metaphorical sense. The buzz had been fantastic, but the hangover much, much less so. That was the only way she could really describe the complete crash that set in once the adrenaline started to die down. Most of her targets were not intact, their remains atomized by her beams if their entire machine had not consumed themselves in reactor failure to begin with. But the Bradley… The Bradley was intact, and floated before her. With its power core intact, the light behind its visor had yet to die out. The piercing sapphire visor regarded her resentfully, reminding her of what she had done. Knowing she would tow it back to the Jannah, that when she was inspecting it later and marveling over the magnificent machine the thought would remain in the black of her head that the ruined cockpit and the blood upon its seat was upon her hands as well.

They had not managed to harm her, not at all. Even the Valk would need only an hour’s work to repair or replace the rear fin the blue Rook had managed to graze. The droplets floating around her, the pounding in her head, that was all her own doing. Poetic, perhaps, given that the disquietude in her mind was her own fault as well. X Corp hadn’t ordered her to gather field data for the XC|PT-001. She had offered, as the machine’s normal test pilot. It hadn’t seemed right to hand her off to a stranger when she was going out for real. No one had forced her onto the battlefield.

But at the same time, she mused with a deep breath, the outcome might have been very different without her. None of her comrades would have been able to save the Yukine in time, not without great risk to both her pilot and their own safety, nor could a pilot without her experience necessarily have come out alive. The battle had been against a numerically superior foe with machines on par with the present generation. If she had not been there, if she had not acted, lives would still have been lost. And they would not necessarily have been pirates. It would take time to process what had happened, what she had done, but that thought was the best anchor she had; she was not the aggressor, nor was she the villain. She had done what was necessary to safeguard her comrades and the civilians of the region. Wasn’t that worth the weight on her conscience?

That question stayed at the forefront of her mind as, recognizing that she had been still for quite some time, she spurred her machine into motion. The G-Valkyrie took hold of the Bradley and its Messer and began the process of towing them both back towards the Jannah. She took a circuitous route back so that she could gather reasonably intact examples of the enemy’s equipment for study, pieces that could explain why these Rooks had performed so far above their usual specifications. Such information could be useful later.

Her cargo made her landing a little more complex, given that she needed to bring the Valk as well as its large trophies safely into the hangar, but not nearly as difficult as combat maneuvers had been. She completed the tasks almost robotically, uttering the proper signals and protocol for returning to the vessel without much enthusiasm. The hangar’s crews took possession of her salvage while the G-Valkyrie stomped to its service bay. It would normally be stored in Waverider form, but the transformation was not advisable in a confined space; she would reorient it later. For now she simply needed to rest.

System shutdown was entirely second nature, her hands bringing about the shutdown of the Valk’s systems of their own accord. She stayed in her cockpit a few moments, listening to the machine’s innards cycle down and quiet. Using the time to try and quiet her own mind, compartmentalize what needed to be pushed aside. Then she triggered the hatch’s release and climbed down carefully, upon which she was greeted instantly by her chief technician.

“Here,” He said as he pushed a bundle she quickly recognized as the clothes she had worn over her pilot suit into her hands. “You can put them back on behind the 001. You need to go to the medbay?”

Somewhat belatedly, Rising Star remembered the flow of crimson from her nose that, now that she was under more normal conditions, actually moved downward. She touched the base of her nose briefly, shaking her head. “No, I’m okay. Are the others back yet?”

Her tech nodded, gesturing with a thumb to the scene behind him. Star got the message immediately, once she glanced where he indicated. She gave only a nod before she ducked behind the Valk’s leg, pulling on her outer technician’s uniform to once again disguise the pilot suit beneath. The mask was the last to come off, and with it Sasha Mackenzie shed Rising Star to be herself again. With Star’s disappearance she pushed her musings down, towards the back of her mind.

Joan was upset. She needed, the whole team needed, the manic pixie. That meant putting on a big grin, bouncing back out there into the hangar and breaking the tension. Raising spirits with a big old hug. That’s what Joan needed. The old man needed a mood boost, and Husam would too. So the chaplain would get the biggest hug of her life, enough to maybe convince herself she was fine too, and the rest’d get some antics to roll their eyes at. She could sort out her own thoughts later. There were cute girls to raise the spirits of.

So Sasha took a deep breath, smiled, and stepped back out into the open.

The shortest member of Paper Tiger all but bounced her way across the other hangar, refraining from giving Yatogami a look that said what she thought of his consolations (was the ‘he who fights monsters’ line really the best call here?) and did give the old man a smile that said she’d take it from here before she crouched down next to the priest.

“Heyyy, Joan.” The technician greeted, a little softer than usual, before wrapping an arm tightly around the other woman. “How you doing, sweetie?”

Σωτήρ: the Solar Age (Mecha) - Still Accepting

Careful What You Wish For

One and a half successes, Rising Star noted with mild satisfaction. She wanted to bring that up to three successes, a perfect ratio, but she had more imminent issues. The harrying shots from the Messer heralded the approach of the Bradley, and necessitated a few quick evasive maneuvers. Her Wavrider wasn’t quite the appropriate form for this, so she triggered the transformation system in time to interpose the G-Valkyrie’s shield between the mech’s bulk and the source of the shots. The Valk lay on its ‘stomach’, top of the mech toward the enemy, so the shield did effectively guard it from the enemy’s fire.

But it didn’t really solve the issue. The blue Rook’s performance was on par with a modern HFV, and by all signs, piloted by someone with experience. Rising Star could have handled him one-on-one, but this… She had to deal with the Bradley, too, and she couldn’t damage it. Joan wanted it intact. The Messer drone only complicated things. That was three potential vectors of attack, one of which couldn’t be destroyed, and another of which was close to on par with her own unit’s specs. Sasha didn’t know what to do; she was out of missiles, there were two more seconds until her launcher was ready to fire, and she didn’t dare turn her back to put some space between her and the opposition.

Too far for Sword Shroud to cover for her, too close range to get a shot from her launcher off, no chance to run, squaring off against a high-performance close-combat machine, an ace Rook with unknown retrofits, and an attack drone. Sasha was as pinned down as you could get in space.

The chaplain growled.

"Rising Star, the Bradley awaits you. Allow me to dance with the Blue Danube."

In an instant Rising Star’s hesitation was swept away, her resolve bolstered. Joan had her back. No more was she outnumbered. It was two on two, and they were Paper Tiger. The Lion of Judah and the Chooser of the Slain. She was never in it alone, and even if she were, it was the strongest will that decided the battle. It was shameful that she had doubted for even a second. No pilot could match their resolve. Not together. If the Father wanted a Bradley, she would have it.

“He won’t wait long. I’ll finish this in one hit. Then we can finish this fight together.” Steel had returned to her voice, and conviction with it. Her eyes narrowed behind her mask, mind refocusing to crystal clarity. The oncoming Bradley. Her own position. And how she would finish the enemy unit without destroying the machine. He wanted to get closer? Alright then.

She stayed hunkered behind her shield while he approached, maneuvering just enough to give the impression that she wanted to get away. She drew her Launcher in close, parallel to the Valk’s body, and waited while her foe closed in. Her verniers fired, trying to put some distance between them without opening herself up to attack, but with her primary thrusters facing the wrong way the Bradley had no problem whatsoever closing in. No doubt he believed he was in luck; his rocket anchor closed around the Valk’s right shoulder, the one spot her position left open enough to grab, and he had ensured she couldn’t escape to long range again.

Then her shield swung out, knocking the Bradley’s gun arm aside to reveal the G-Valkyrie’s green visor in time to watch it flash mere feet from the pirate’s main camera.

On some level, she understood the Father’s prayers. It was unfortunate that their foes perished in such numbers. It was unfortunate that such lethal measures were required to deal with them. It was unfortunate that she had to be the one to kill them. But if their positions were reversed, they would kill her. They would kill the Father. They would kill her friends.

Rising Star regretted that it was necessary, but she did not regret killing this man. He chose his path, and there was no changing that. Before its pilot could grasp that he had been lured in, that closing to range had been exactly what Rising Star wanted, she jabbed her launcher forward with all of the force the G-Valkyrie could muster and drove the heat spike on its tip into the pirate machine’s cockpit. To be certain of her foe’s elimination she pulled the spike back out and fired her Vulcans into the hole she had created.

As she promised; one strike.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

@Lugubrious @Sho Minazuki @HereComesTheSnow @Suku @Plank Sinatra @NarayanK @Kaithas

“It’s big, it’s strong, and we pissed it off.” Ben answered, running a hand through his hair. This really wasn’t going as well as he wanted. The Grimm inside the refinery had been pretty easy to handle, all things considered, but the Manticore was another story. He couldn’t hit it very hard at all, not without getting closer and getting closer was a really bad idea given that they were in an airship that couldn’t set down until it was dealt with. The people stuck on the ground wouldn’t be able to deal with it themselves, either, and Goodwitch couldn’t strike it down from here. What did they have…

The lightbulb went on when he remembered what he had on his belt. What was on Jack’s, too. He tore the flare gun off his belt, held it up, and pointed to the cockpit. “I know how to deal with it. We had these to direct the airship’s air support if we needed it. We never used them. The ship shouldn’t need them to target the Manticore, not anymore, but we can use them to keep its attention on us.”

“More importantly, our guys and gals on the ground can see it and now to stay out of the way. It’s tough, but I think this ship can hurt it enough to make it leave. At least for a little while, even if it can’t kill the fucker.”

Persona - Academic Akrasia (Being rebooted, see new int check)

Daisuke, all things considered, was happy to ride pretty quietly. He didn't have much to say, not that he could really understand what the detective was saying anyway, and he was still waiting for his body to stop hurting. Or at least hurt a little less. He'd rreally, really appreciate it. It had been ages since he felt like he'd gotten the shit kicked out of him so much, especially when it was a fight they actually won. Not that he really felt like it. Part of him, the part a little too dazed for real thought, was wondering how they got the DRU into the van. The things were heavy. Maybe there was a lift and he missed it.

He'd kind of hit his head, now that he thought about it.

Maybe giving in to the temptation to sleep wasn't a great idea.

"Can we avoid the McDs near the station? My boss'll be pissed if she sees me like this on my day off."

Σωτήρ: the Solar Age (Mecha) - Still Accepting

Element of Surprise

The screaming alerts were Rising Star’s warning not only of her pursuer, but also of the shots he was firing. Not for the first time she was grateful for the G-Valkyrie’s sleek, narrow silhouette; without its narrow target profile, she never would have evaded even with the Valk’s speed. She slammed on the verniers, sending it darting sharply to the left while it continued to shoot forward and immediately took up evasive maneuvers. Sharp moves left, right, up, down, and any combination of the two planes. She would have been stuck within the blue Rook’s optimum range, unable to escape her predicament, had she been in almost any other machine. Having caught her with her back to him (or her), the ace put Rising Star in a position from which she was unable to retaliate or force him to break off his pursuit. The Bradley’s Messer, she realized abruptly, was flanking directly for the nose of the Valk as well. Under traditional conditions, Star would have no choice but to bank to evade the drone, thus giving the blue Rook a much wider target area until she could escape his line of fire. No doubt they believed that this maneuver ensured that all possible evasive maneuvers opened her up to attack from one of them.

They were thinking too linearly. Clearly their souls were still weighed down by gravity.

The Valk had not come out of the Rook’s initial barrage completely unscathed, one of its beams had stripped several layers off of the Valk’s right fin due to its proximity, but the fin did not play a functional role in outer space. Its functionality was unimpaired. But they had hit her, however lightly. She had been careless. That was just her ego. Things were heating up, her opponents were upping the ante, and they expected her to fold under the pressure. They didn’t know who she was. They didn’t know how her blood boiled, how her adrenaline climbed higher and higher, how every maneuver reminded her that she knew this. That she had practiced off of this before. Every passing second, every breath of air that filled her lungs, every contraction of her furious heart, every bit of feedback that the Valk gave her reminded her who she was. She was Rising Star, not by choice but by decree of her peers. She had been Sasha Mackenzie for so long she had almost forgotten. But she was awake, and she felt alive. It was time to hold nothing back.

Her thrusters roared, sending her accelerating forward far faster than even a refitted Rook could possibly keep up with. She didn’t need them to follow her, she already had their attention. There was no need to let them keep up anymore. This was her element, and they would learn. The drone could do nothing for the moment, she was too quick to keep up, but she still had her back to the blue Rook. He would still get his shot when she turned around to engage. She superior speed was putting distance between them, but unless she chose to cut and run entirely she would still need to bank to face him.

Or so he thought. There was a certain prevailing belief, based upon their use, that Waveriders would dogfight in space much the same way a fighter would in atmosphere. At the speeds fighters moved, the effect of gravity planetside was negligible already. The true danger came from the forces their maneuvers would produce. A Waverider produced much the same forces, making it too dangerous to truly take advantage of the lack of a zero-g environment. In theory, the prevailing wisdom was correct. Certainly most people weren’t willing to risk testing it. Rising Star, however, was not most people. She was a test pilot. Pushing limits was her job, and she knew that at this moment, conventional fighting wasn’t going to win her the day.

With a good buffer space between her and her pursuers, she killed her rear thrusters and let her inertia keep her moving at that speed. Then she fired her verniers, fore and aft immediately; in opposing directions. Blood rushed instantly to her head, her entire body pushed hard against the harnesses keeping her in her seat, while the Valk’s nose shot down and its rear shot up to flip it in place without ceasing her forward motion. The entire rotation lasted a mere fraction of a second, its rapidity causing the ill effects Rising Star was currently experiencing, but she was now facing towards her pursuers and the battle behind them. Her head hurt and she felt a little of something wet below her nose, but the grin behind her mask was feral. She had done exactly what she wanted, and more importantly, her opponents wouldn’t expect it; the maneuver would have gotten her screamed at by any traditionalist. If she had gotten it wrong, if she hadn’t completely cut her primary thrusters, the rate of deceleration their newfound opposing orientation to her inertia caused would have fractured bones. If she was very lucky.

Despite the discomfort, she was ready. Her 100mm vulcans fired immediately at the Messer now in her line of fire, and at the Rook behind it, accompanied simultaneously by a shot from her Shot Launcher that lanced towards the blue Rook. She would have liked to capture the Messer intact, but she needed it off her back. If she hit then whatever was left could be salvaged later. If it dodged, or she missed, then it would be forced to less bold in its assault and the shells would fly past to the Rook behind. Much the same applied to her beam; while she would be ecstatic if she hit the Rook, and there was a good chance given the element of surprise, it would buy her some time if it dodged or blocked.

They weren’t her primary targets, anyway.

The X Corp Beam Shot Launcher required three seconds, after every shot, to sufficiently condense the particles necessary for the next one. Though an eternity in close quarters, that wasn’t where the launcher was meant to be used. It was meant for mid-to-long range engagements, and in that role, three seconds was a mere blink. Still more than enough time for her specialized comm equipment, shared by all of the XC|PT series units, to receive target acquisition data from the Judah to augment her own. Her maneuvers, besides putting her pursuers back in her line of fire, had given her one additional benefit; she had a view of the whole battle from ‘above’. Nine Rooks, not counting the blue one, remained operational. Six were attacking her compatriots. The remaining three? Sasha had already made their acquaintance, from the business end of her missiles. Three damaged Rooks. Perhaps they meant to flee, seeing as they were not engaging her fellows.

“Targets acquired.” Rising Star growled, the low, anticipatory threat of an eager predator. The sound came forth shockingly easily from the until-now-calm pilot, one that would have raised hackles if her enemies could hear it. On the encrypted Paper Tiger channel, however, it was only her allies. Thrusters fired to carry her horizontally left, away from where the Rook knew her to be, while she drew a bead on her target. The Rook and drone both stayed within her field of view, but she would deal with them in a moment. The first shot from her Launcher lanced down towards the unprotected back of the Rook that had lost its shield. She reasoned that as the unit with intact maneuvering capabilities, it had the most chance to evade if it was given any warning. So he would receive none. Until that moment, Rising Star had not even been a factor in its pilot’s mind. She was too far away, occupied by its allies, to engage effectively. He could not have known how precise the shared targeting data would make her. She doubted he would see it coming in time to evade the shot to his center mass. “Eliminating opposition.”

Three seconds. The Valk shifted position as soon as the shot was taken, preemptively moving to ensure the Rook and Messer didn’t get the chance to line up a good shot. At no point did she cease moving; the Valk’s agility was second to none, and she didn’t need to be still in order to line up an effective shot. Not with the aid of targeting data from the rest of Paper Tiger, differing perspectives that could be parsed to give precise refinement to her aim. The other two damaged Rooks would react to her shot, that she knew, but it would take time to discern where the shot had come from. Especially with her changing position. By the time the launcher was ready, she was prepared to fire upon the unit with the damaged leg. It was the second most mobile target.

As her second shot flew at her target’s new location, after ‘seeing’ from multiple views how he reacted to the first, she elected to postpone firing upon the third. He was unlikely to successfully leave her range, and after six seconds the blue Rook would be prepared to engage her again even with her evasive maneuvers. It was important she not underestimate him.

@Plank Sinatra @Crimmy @Onarax @Silvan Haven @Letter Bee

RWBY: Brilliant Horizon

I am working as we speak. I appreciate your patience, @Zugzwang, I've been having some health matters that have made having the energy to post rather difficult. It's five and a half hours until 9 EST, so I don't think I will have any issues being done by then.

I will endeavor to live up to the mecha reference reputation that has preceded me.

RWBY: Brilliant Horizon

@Krayzikk should be along with his character by tomorrow at the latest.

@Onarax

Poking my head in to prove my existence. Mostly done. Was planning on finishing tonight in time to have it up with my co-conspirators, buuuut that hasn't quite panned out so far.

Will be completed tomorrow afternoon at the latest.