No offense intended. But there's a sweet spot on the sliding scale of realism, and most of the interest checks I usually see skew too far to the realism end for me.
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9 yrs ago
Can't describe how quickly I go from excited to sad when a mecha premise turns out to be realism wankery.
I've been thinking about doing a bigger post, but wasn't sure and decided to to leave it as being small. But if you guys want to start going out as we planned in your next posts, I don't mind. Would actually make a few things in my mind flow a bit nicer once someone starts their assign objective outside the inn. Unless you want to continue a little bit of mingling with each other, I don't mind that too :)
@Onarax is going to be gone for a few days, I think, but @Plank Sinatra and I can get Cyare and Angel moving out within a post or two. Partially mentioning people here because, well, I forgot my mentions.
"It's his name," Cyare commented offhandedly, most of her attention fixed on her food and coffee. She was content to eat while she listened to Wes and Rei's thoughts, especially with food like this, but she didn't want to run the risk of Rei confusing the man further. "He likes nicknames. Practicality has nothing to do with it, he just likes it."
Another long draught of coffee chased the last of her sandwich, and served to disguise her smile. Things were working out quite well. Angel would be absolutely invaluable for their patrols, he couldn't help but be endearing. A public relations boon for sure. The quiet would be nice, too.
Bianca’s little trick with the clutch was funny. And clever. It might have been an issue, in fact, if Port’s arrival hadn’t made her pick it back up a few minutes later. The bell was his friend, for once. Saved him from having to figure out how to move it.
Still, Port leading them to another room? Not a signal for fun times ahead.
That was his focus as he picked up his shield and filed out of the room, and his gut instinct was not wrong. Not even a little bit. The name was on the tip of his tongue before Port ever said it, but he uttered it under his breath anyway; Dionaea. It was bigger than his house. The beast must have been three stories tall, give or take half a story. And its height was not even the most impressive aspect. Its dozens of tentacles gave it a sheer volume that was hard to appreciate from a book; a textbook couldn’t convey the way the limbs moved, sinuous and powerful, around that central trunk. Port had defanged it in the literal sense, but it was not harmless. A Riesen was a Riesen, and after his last experience Ben wasn’t taking chances. He’d never seen a Dionaea before, Redwood wasn’t the right environment before. They were more familiar with its root-laying cousin the Datura.
It wasn’t anything like a Manticore, it was much too alien for that. It wasn’t particularly like Vlitra, either. But that feeling was the same. The three Riesens all inspired that touch of fear, that awe at the power implied and demonstrated. The Manticore’s hate and ferocity, even faced with its own demise. Spiteful enough to bring down a roof just to kill one or two foes, and strong enough to do it. The ancient implacability Vlitra had shown to generation after generation.
He wasn’t sure where this one fit yet. What would stand out in his memory. But for the first time that fear came with a certain confidence; he’d killed a Riesen last week, Bastille and Jumpercable. They weren’t immortal.
The ground all but shook with Joyous Guard’s impact, the tower shield propped up on one hand while he drew his tonfa from its rack. They merged into Caletfwlch seamlessly at his bidding, its familiar weight reaffirming his confidence. This was doable. Joyous Guard was going to get a hell of a maiden fight.
Satisfied his weapons were in order, he shot Sangue a grin and a shrug.
”Guess we’re not going to be bored.”
What to do about this thing was another matter entirely. Cutting the trunk would kill it, but the tentacles weren’t going to let anyone close. Not without cutting through them first, at least. Which he could do, but anyone who got close was bound to get the attention of the rest. Deinamig would help… But he’d used everything on Friday, and he’d need that reservoir again in a few days. That was one resource he’d have to try and go without if he could. There wasn’t a whole lot to block, either… Joyous Guard’s shield might not be the most useful…
See how it fought. Then worry about it.
”Hey, Nuit,” He piped up cheerfully, cocking his head a little in her direction. Sure, he’d only met the Faunus girl today but she seemed like a good sort. Working with her’d help make her feel welcome. ”I’ll probably have its attention pretty quick. If it gets hairy, drop behind me. Sangue, you too. We’re gonna need to cut our way towards its trunk. I can take a few hits if it gets a little pissy.”
Promethion Component #3 is referred to in official blueprints as “Aerial Offense Unit”, nothing more. A descriptive name in a technical sense, but one lacking in… Flair. Hazel prefers the name she bestowed upon it; Olympus Shrike. The Shrike is sizable, even considering the scale of Promethion’s components, and packing firepower to match. The Shrike is meant, by itself, to strike fast and strike hard. Its speed and maneuverability are incredible, even if it wouldn’t win a dogfight against a more agile craft. It wouldn’t necessarily need to.
The Shrike is a pretty thick aircraft, with a wingspan as wide as it is long when fully deployed. It expands from a tapered point to a bulky rear section fitted with immense thrusters, thrusters hefty enough to send it rocketing along at high speeds. Both wings and nosecone are hardened for use in combat as either a spear or a blade respectively, turning the Shrike into a melee weapon unto itself. Its wings can partially retract for this very reason to allow it to dive and impale a foe upon its nose more easily. Its two most prominent weapons are tucked under its wings, pulled tight to the fuselage; long barreled cannons connected to rotating cylinders near to the main body. Each one fires a beam, either in short, quick bursts or in a prolonged beam. Each space in the cylinder is in essence a battery, providing a well of energy to draw from. When one is expended, the cylinder rotates to the next until all are depleted. These cannons are positioned over Promethion’s shoulders when combined. Banks of missiles are secreted away in its chassis, to give any enemy kaiju a real bad day. The craft is potent enough to carry any allied component, towards the battle or away, provided sufficient grip but does not do so often.
Though its capabilities are unchanged, the Shrike has undergone certain aesthetic modifications at its pilot’s enthusiastic urging. Bronze highlights for the black machine, a fine-tuning of the cockpit for pilot preference (most importantly the addition of a tapedeck), and a painted girl upon either side of the nose strongly resembling an anthropomorphized Beast Machine God.
First draft. Will organize and condense into a format similar to the above later.
Left out most of how it factors into Promethion until everyone else has a clear concept, but it's meant to form lower arms and part of a backpack. Partially so its pilot has a seat somewhere on the torso, and not breaking their neck in the forearm every fight.
Wanted to apologize for my absence the past couple days, camping with almost no cell signal. Shoutout to Plank and Crim for being my interpreters while they were the only ones that could hear from me.
Since we're tossing them up, first draft of a character concept. Will tweak as setting details are confirmed.
AT 5’5” Hazel is neither tall enough nor short enough to stand out from the average, and she doesn’t make much effort to stand out at all. Her fashion sense errs on the side of formal, if she has to be out and about, but if left to her own devices she’s more than happy to lounge in comfortable clothes. The sole oddity is her fondness for turtleneck sweaters with the collar pulled up over her mouth.
Name: Hazel Ada Stoll Gender: Female Age: 21 Job: MAX FIRE First Independent Special Squadron Pilot Personality: Quiet. Not in the sense of ‘doesn’t talk much’, but in the sense of ‘doesn’t talk at all’. Hazel’s commentary, if she gives it, comes almost entirely in the way of expressions, signs, or typed text. If the option is available. She manages to seem dry and sarcastic anyway. She isn’t particularly unfriendly, just generally disinterested in people. Unless she’s actually doing her job she’s most likely to find a quiet corner somewhere to sit with her laptop, if not retreating to her own quarters entirely. She’ll ‘talk’, if you can understand her and you have something interesting to say, but people just don’t seem to be her priority. Unlike most of MAX FIRE, who seems humanistic in the extreme, one kind of gets the impression that Hazel is just along for the robots.
Her job, however, is where passion and profession intersect. Hazel is absolutely, immeasurably fascinated with her mecha. Not just her mecha, but everyone’s mecha. It’s the one subject that will get her full attention without fail, and the only one that seems to really fire up the relatively lethargic pilot. It was what brought her to MAX FIRE’s attention, after all, when she tried to access files on the machines for her own curiosity. She will converse for hours on end with anyone in the know about them, or even about the fictional machines that inspired them, given the chance. Not everyone welcomes this, and she’ll depart without complaint if she gets the feeling people would prefer to be left alone, but such talks are one of her most humanizing traits.
Even when it comes to her teammates, she seems to prefer people in the abstract sense than the real. Skills: Significant knowledge of computer systems, as evidenced by her unlawful entry to MAX FIRE’s records. If you were to read her list of charges like a job application it’d showcase technical skill, a preternatural grasp of social engineering (for someone who doesn’t talk), a knack for operational planning, and the ability to improvise when the plan goes awry. Said improvisation included a semi-successful attempted hijacking of one of Prometheus’ components, a big piece of what landed her the gig.
Hazel isn’t much of a fighter by herself, most of her self defense amounting to pulling every dirty trick in the book and running like hell, but she’s definitely got a knack for operating her machine. What she lacks in formal understanding of tactics seems to be made up for by an understanding of every mecha trope in the book, and the willingness to test things out on the fly. Where others might not succeed, she gets by using an ever-broadening understanding of her machine’s limits and potential.
How well she works in a more cohesive team remains to be seen. Short Bio: Exactly where Hazel A. Stoll came from is a little unclear, mostly because the girl won’t say much. Records of her attendance at university corroborate her recent history, but only stretching back a few years or two; a fairly unremarkable academic record, but not one that matches up with the intelligence she displays. If anything the school seems mostly to have been a way of accessing better resources. No one that has pressed on the matter has managed to dig much deeper.
What is clear is that she’s very good at finding out things she wants to know, and this trait brought her to MAX FIRE. Whispers about what Higini Somporn was working on reached her ears, enough to make her decide that she had to know. So over the better part of a year she researched MAX FIRE painstakingly, using what networked resources she could access to study her target. Transportation of raw materials, delivery dates, bureaucratic structure, floor plans filed with local government, any little tidbit she could find, coerce, dig up or steal. Everything she found seemed to keep pointing to the same thing, so she made a plan.
Through means not entirely known (Hazel isn’t talking) she breached the Science Fortress’ perimeter under the guise of a contractor, accessed the facility, bypassed the guards on site, the facility’s physical security, and actually gained access to the Prometheus compound.
Buuut skill only gets you so far, especially when you’re dealing with effective security. Caught redhanded Hazel tried to commit grand theft mecha to make good her escape, but was apprehended. Quite stunningly, depending on who you ask, given that it ended in the ISS’ captain dragging her from the cockpit.
Between how she accessed the compound and how she managed to get anywhere trying to steal a mech, MAX FIRE had some questions for her. A long hour ensued before her would-be interrogators figured out that she didn’t speak, not that she refused. Not that she was talkative once they got an interpreter that understood American Sign Language. It’s a little uncertain who pulled what strings, but rather than being tossed to the police for a decades-long-timeout Hazel was given a choice first. Work with MAX FIRE to help keep someone else from doing what she did, and be entered into the candidate pool for pilots or cool her heels in a cell.
The former, probably a colleague or student of Higini Somporn. As for the name of the robot why not Prometheus? It kinda fits with the organization's name and he uses a substance stolen from the monsters (Etherion) to fight for mankind's survival
I like the reference, it fits pretty well with the setting, but a little bland for a super robot game.
@Plank Sinatra and I were brainstorming for a bit, we'd submit (as a full name) "Giga Assault Hell Smasher - Prometheus" alternately written as "Giga Assault Hell Smasher Prometheus". Much in the same vein as "Dancouga" really being called in full "Super Beast Machine God Dancouga".
The first time, sure, but by the time she was trying her Semblance two-handed? Probably trying to gauge it as much as Ben'd been trying to gauge her bag. He could leave it alone. Pretend he didn't see. Just ignore it.
But that wouldn't be any fun.
He caught the Faunus' eye, grin widening a little, and reached behind his chair to adjust its position. Just one hand, not really looking at it, and just to push it back a little bit so that all their new acquaintances had room to move their chairs. Pull on the top edge, reduce how far it slanted out into the aisle.
Then he laced his hands behind his head again, looking innocent as could be.
I was thinking of gunning for a pilot role, and I think @Plank Sinatra was too. By my count six people have expressed interest so far, with at least four specifically aiming to pilot, and one aiming to do something else (potentially).
So I'd say that five components would be a good plan, assuming we actually keep everyone. If not we can adjust, it's not hard to work with anything between three and five.
As for the actual robot...
I've been watching Dancouga Nova lately, so I kinda see components with some individual capacity. Forming the big guy obviously being the primary purpose, but not totally reliant on it to be effective. Maybe not full on smaller mecha, but at least things like fighters, tanks, etc for individual capability.
I refer to vehicles mostly because the general feel seems to be tech v organic, so it seems to make sense for me for the mecha to be very mechanical.
A sword is a must, as is some kind of punch and a ranged attack. But I figure we can nail down attacks a little easier once we figure out a general design scheme.
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