Krayzikk

Robotech: The Macross War (Space Opera, Mecha RP)

[h2]Kat Staten[/i]

"At this rate it will be your funeral, boss," Kat complained, folding her arms across her chest in exasperation. She rocked back a little when McKnight shot her a look, green eyes a little too innocent to really be true. Maybe she'd snuck a peek when he wasn't around. Just at names and faces, but if he really didn't want anyone to see, he should've locked them up. Service records were way too long to get a look at while the boss was out getting coffee, though, so that was a mystery. Still wasn't hard to see who was green and who wasn't. The momentum carried, until she rocked forward in her seat again. The repetitive to and fro, solely at the waist, seemed to have taken the place of her exercise. "We've been waiting too long."

Rocking wasn't enough to entertain her, so on the fifth motion she followed through and rose to her full height. When it came to Fox, people tended to look up to her. More literally than metaphorically, much to McKnight's relief, since her CO was one of the only people not shorter than her. It held true for the new recruits, especially poor Dragomira. The former Air Force girl started a series of stretching intended to loosen up her upper body, holding each for at least a count of fifteen.

Sitting still for so long wasn't really her speed.

It was a good chance to see the newbies, though. Dragomira seemed like a firecracker if ever she saw one. That was the sort of energy even Kat hadn't seen since she first had caffeine as a kid. A little quirky, from the look of it, but God the girl was tiny. She wasn't aware anyone had figured out how to shrink people, but here was the proof. Didn't mean anything in the cockpit, though, so she'd reserve judgement. Casablancas she watched out of the corner of her eye, remembering the way she'd brushed it over her shoulder. Like she was in a movie. It might have been intentional, if she wasn't wound so tight. Kinda cute in a dorky way, but Kat thought this was probably her first real posting. There was a hesitance to how she reported, one she doubted would have been there if she'd ever been on the front lines.

Goldman seemed to have a sense of humor and a feel for the excitement at least, even if he was one of the older guys. Maybe not Montgomery old, ol' gramps was a fossil, but he was older than everyone else. Time'd tell how he'd fit in.

Speaking of the fossil, though...

"I vote we chip in and buy Joe an espresso maker or he's gonna make us miserable. Amazon's gotta deliver to space by now, right? Dragomira doesn't need the caffeine, but what about you Casablancas?" The blonde flashed the assembled squad an infectious grin, aiming it at the Spaniard last. "Speaking of, boss, do you have any idea where we're headed?"

Robotech: The Macross War (Space Opera, Mecha RP)

Got an intro for Kat up. Inferred and filled in the blanks a little bit about who's been where how long, based on what people said in their CSes. Nothing too presumptuous, I don't think, but let me know if something doesn't ring right with you.

Robotech: The Macross War (Space Opera, Mecha RP)

Kat Staten

Eighteen.

The hustle and bustle was music to the American pilot's ears. A crowded hangar was the next best thing to a real fight, in the air or on the ground. It was the same sort of anticipation, that tingling at the base of your spine and between your shoulderblades that made your muscles coil right up. The hype that made other squadron leaders posture and preen, seasoned pilots grin, and set newbie heart a' fluttering.

Nineteen.

Some of her peers perched on crates, much to the ire of the support crews, but none seemed quite so comfortable as Kat Staten laying atop a crate full of live munitions. She needed to do her situps somewhere, and if she did it from the floor she couldn't see people. The crate kept her closer to eye level, and away from being underfoot. Everyone vented that hype their own way and hers was to exercise. Do something to actually get her pulse going, not just thinking about it. She hated sitting still when that bug got into her system. Never seemed to bother McKnight, though. The blonde pilot hadn't been part of Fox that long, but long enough to be pretty familiar with the CO before he was the CO. Hadn't been that long ago, but not everyone'd remember. The old man, too. Monty had that thrillseeking blood running through him, but he'd been a lot more mellow while she knew him.

The rest were new, at least to Fox.

So they could be forgiven for thinking that the young woman doing situps was trying to work off some anxiety, especially on such a big day. But Joe and Samuel'd know better. She was keeping her excitement in check.

Speaking of new blood, though...

Twenty.

"Real buzzer-beater there, Casablancas." Kat swung her legs off the crate and planted boots firmly on the floor, following the motion into a seated position. She cocked her head a little at the newbie, green eyes glittering with curiosity above the most irreverent of grins. Her elbows were planted on her knees as she leaned in a little, grabbing her water bottle off the floor for a sip. Flight suits weren't exactly great for exercise, so she settled for keeping her tank top on and the suit near. Technically she wasn't on alert, so she could get away with it. Suits were too damned hot on this island, especially when they were for show. She felt for the guys lead by the peacock brigade. Probably were roasting.

"0900 dead on, I think." She made a show of looking at her watch, grin widening a little. "If you wanna set your watch, Flamenco. Welcome to Macross Island. Nice shades."

Robotech: The Macross War (Space Opera, Mecha RP)

Kat Staten

Image

Name: Staten, Amanda Kathryn (“Kat”)
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Origin: New York City, United States

Appearance: At five feet and ten inches in height, Amanda Kathryn Staten is pretty difficult to miss. If her height doesn’t do it, the blond hair and bright green eyes probably will. If neither of those factors clues you in, look for the boisterous woman in the athletic wear. She usually wears her uniform or something she can move in, without a whole lot in between the two extremes. Anyone she’s stationed with gets used to seeing her in training clothes on her way to or from the gym very quickly.

Kat doesn’t look a whole lot like a pilot at first glance, enough so that more than one unfortunate soul has mistaken her for support personnel. She certainly wouldn’t look out of place as a civilian secretary, though her hair is kept short enough to fit inside her helmet and meet regulatory requirements. It’s a little easier, up close, to see the fit physique required of her career. Despite her youth, she isn’t easily mistaken for a rookie; though largely faded, the scars on her left side and just above her left eye are proof of her history.

Callsign/Codename: Centerfold, gifted by peers during training. Explanation given on request.
Kills: 7. 4/7 in one skirmish, 2005.
Veritech Specs:
Preferred Loadout:
-UUM-7 x2 (One left, one right)
-AMM-1 x1 (Left)
-RMS-1 (Right)
-Strike FAST Pack

Kat was trained as the pilot of an air superiority fighter and that preference bleeds through to her Veritech. She largely eschews air-to-ground capabilities in exchange for a varied and potent air-to-air loadout, maintaining a degree of air-to-ground capabilities solely in the form of her UUMs and FAST Pack cannon. Though she chafes a little at the mandated red and white paintjob, she has taken the liberty of painting kill tallies on her craft’s wings and a rabid-looking rabbit on the nose.

Psychological Analysis: Incredibly energetic. Kat Staten is, in a word, boisterous. She’ll laugh the hardest, yell the loudest, and fight the happiest. She takes a fierce pride in her country and her original branch of service, and will contest anyone claiming to be better. She makes friends easily, brushes off adversity with complete irreverence, and never takes things particularly seriously. ‘Irrepressible’ would be a good adjective, as would ‘stubborn’. It doesn’t matter how silly the contest, Staten never gives in.

A deeper familiarity shows that, while the demeanor she projects isn’t false, there is more to it. The American possesses a keen tactical mind, and an almost ruthless determination in the face of opposition. Anyone that threatens her squadmates or her home is to be eliminated, if they fail to take their chance to back down. Her tactics have been called reckless many times, and tend to demonstrate a distinct lack of fear for her own safety. As much as it tends to get her in trouble, it has also been (grudgingly) admitted to be what makes her an excellent pilot. It doesn’t seem to be unintentional; Kat’s brushes with mortality seem only to have reinforced her convictions. Her all-or-nothing attitude is born of determination rather than ignorance.

No matter what, the people Kat serves with are her family. Anything they need she will go to hell and back to provide, whether on or off the battlefield.

Military Record: Amanda Kathryn Staten was born on December 29th 1984, destined to grow up in a world wracked by the Global War. Anthony Staten, her father, served as a fighter pilot before and after she was born. He was an immense influence on her life, and a significant part of her choice to serve in the military came from following in his footsteps. She was raised to be proud, resolute, and unwavering. Kat excelled in high school, took part in extracurriculars, and did everything she could to ensure that she would be able to follow the path she wanted.

Her enlistment and subsequent training, naturally, was a little hectic. Her enthusiasm tended to net her almost as many lectures as it did commendations, if she got a little too heated, thought a little too far outside the box, or otherwise questioned what she was being taught. Still she avoided any real disciplinary action (if only by knowing which lines to toe), and was able to face her role model with the utmost pride when she was accepted as a pilot candidate. The Global War had died down following the crash on Macross Island, something that had only strengthened her resolve, but she still went into active service as a pilot in a chaotic time. Not everyone was on board with unification in the face of extraterrestrial adversity, and though relatively small in number, these forces were enough to cause problems when they put their mind to it.

Kat was the pilot of an F-16, an air superiority fighter tasked with just that; achieving and maintaining air supremacy for the USAF. Much of her early service was without incident, though she displayed excellent ability in the line of duty. That changed when she was twenty one, near the end of the Anti-Unification forces’ decline.

Acting on orders, Kat and her squadmates were dispatched to neutralize a hostile enemy air force discovered in Indonesia. Their superior’s underestimated the size and capability of the force present, and in the ensuing skirmish with the entrenched AU forces the entire squadron was shot down. Not without inflicting losses on the enemy, but the entrenched resistance was made up in large part of Global War veterans. Staten was the last of her squadron to be shot down, only after shooting down five of the AU aircraft during the course of the battle. After-action reports from her surviving squadmates described her maneuvers both as innovating and “[CENSORED] insane”.

It took four days for US forces to subdue the hostile parties, hidden in Indonesia’s rainforests, as well as recover the surviving pilots from her squadron. Kat herself employed what they had been taught in USAF SERE Training to survive and evade capture.

Her high performance marked her for recruitment as a Veritech pilot, and later for assignment to Fox Squadron.

Robotech: The Macross War (Space Opera, Mecha RP)

Sounds good to me, I'll move over Kat before I go to work myself.

Heroes of Beacon - the Next Chapter

@NarayanK @Write @FlitterFaux @Azereiah @Ryonara

Ben heard Bianca’s warning, but the Dionaea was quick this time. It adapted to Bianca’s departure in a flash, deciding instead to take a shot at the tip of the spear; Ben himself. The four smaller roots came shooting in from his left, just behind where his guard was focused. Not strong enough to cause harm, not really, but trap him up?

That they could do.

They wound through his defenses like snakes, wrapping tightly first around his arm, then his leg, and finally around his neck. Two made pulled as tightly as they could around his neck, rendering whatever he was about to say as a choked, strangled sound. The roots were pulled taut, restricting his movement on the left. It might not have been an issue, but the two larger limbs were still pressing the attack. With Joyous Guard tied up and his mobility limited, Caletfwlch was now his only defense.

He barely twisted aside from the first lashing root and parried the second, but he could hear the difficulties Skye was having behind him. With Bianca in the air and the others occupied, he wasn’t going to be getting much help. In a situation like this, the natural first instinct was to do anything to regain the ability to breathe. In the trained and untrained alike it was prone to inspire panic. Panic made you sloppy. As distressing as the lack of air was… A Grimm trying to break his neck wasn’t new. Lauren tried it already.

Hurt like hell, but he could ignore that for a second.

The problem was those goddamn vines. He stepped into the direction the vines pulled, just barely avoiding the vine that smashed into the ground to his right, but the Dionaea was catching on. And the vines doing their best to strangle him were starting to eat away at his Aura. Not to mention that his lungs were starting to burn.

He had to give the Grimm credit, though. Smashing both roots down from opposite angles? Clever. No way to evade. And if those hit they’d be scraping him up off of the floor. Deinamig activated hard, and the root around his arm strained to keep it from moving. It strained, and strained, and strained for the briefest of moments quaking with exertion until it snapped. Joyous Guard went up over Ben’s head, Caletfwlch sliding into its sheath behind it so he could brace the shield with both hands.

The roots hit upon its surface with a sound like thunder, forcing Ben down into a crouch and he still felt the floor crack beneath him. But his guard stood, lungs and muscles burning as his Aura gauge dropped like a stone.

Still he grinned.

He pressed two buttons at once, the first sending strength flooding back into his body as his Aura gauge refilled itself rapidly. He’d hoped to avoid using the batteries but he could spare one. He pushed back hard, shoving the roots away with his shield and freeing himself from their weight.

The second made Joyous Guard release its hold on his forearm and pivot, making itself parallel with his forearm before it split and extended, splitting lengthwise and unfolding to form a sharp point. Caletfwlch’s own edge extended to fill in the gap, providing the spine for the extended blade. And a blade it was; in seconds Joyous Guard had unfolded around it, forming an immense blade that Ben held loosely in his left hand. He held it as easily as a feather despite its mass, extending far in front of him and gleaming faintly pearlescent in the room’s light. It arched up and right, quick as lightning, to intercept the roots lashing out to strike again.

It met them almost contemptuously, cleaving through the thick limbs without reverence and continued down towards Ben’s right, continuing back towards the left to complete the circular motion. It reached so far ahead of him, point angled down, that the tip almost rested against the surface of the water. Bastille’s captain drew in a deep breath, the vines that had entrapped him sinking into the water as they dissolved.

”We’ll call that 2-5, Nuit. Those small ones are barely a half each.” The statement came out low and raspy, coming deep from his chest through his still burning throat. Ben switched Joyous Guard to his dominant hand, easily bringing it back up into a ready position. Blue eyes swept over the situation, using the lull in the assault to take in the details.

The Dionaea’s trunk was thick, but it still wasn’t as large as a Manticore. He wasn’t sure the point Bianca described was necessarily a weakness, but if they could get close enough… Hiis BaSteels told him his Aura was back into the green, even if Deinamig had eaten up most of the excess. But between his Semblance and Bianca’s....

”Yue, take point. Skye, take Bianca’s position on the left. Ashe is rear guard. Keep pushing forward. Bianca and I are going to need to fall back if this doesn’t work.” The bird girl caught his grin directly when he jerked his head towards the Dionaea’s root, the look more than a little feral. ”Bianca, we’re getting as close as we can. Hope you can fly well.”

Robotech: The Macross War (Space Opera, Mecha RP)

Sounds good to me. Was there anything any of us needed to fix before we start moving sheets to the Characters tab?

Robotech: The Macross War (Space Opera, Mecha RP)

I'm still here, ready and eager to go.

Super Invincible Max God Century Robo: Giga Assault Hell Smasher Promethion - A Combining Mecha RPG

Hazel Ada Stoll

<The security measures are for humans, not the kaiju.> Hazel clicked her tongue twice in Ryoma's direction, as the scientist had proven to be the only person capable of understanding her consistently. It was enough to make her want to scream. It was beyond inconvenient that the rest couldn't follow her signs, even if she went slowly. Still, she could count on someone at least to interpret for Autumn. <We are the security measure against kaiju. The fortress' defenses can help, but we are the first line of defense. Most security measures are to make sure no one breaks in.>

She neglected to add the "like I did", but to at least a few of them it would be implied.

Michel she favored with a small smile and a nod, which was high praise from the notoriously disinterested Shrike pilot. He may not have been able to understand her, but the kid at least payed attention. That deserved recognition. It would be worth trying to teach him at least the basics of ASL, help someone else understand at least as well as Victor.

Speaking of.

The beret-wearing pilot was fixed with a level, exasperated stare, and the mute woman pulled the notebook out of her pocket with exaggerated slowness and bringing it up to eye level. She waved it once with a flick of her wrist, then pointed at her eyes with the corner. Then his eyes with her finger.

Eyes. Here. You're fooling no one.

And their glorious Commander. She could see the gears turning in the woman's head, the sow realization. Finally. It had taken long enough to explain that she wasn't epileptic, once she let go of her tongue. And once she stopped having her head smacked off of the floor. It had barely been a bite before, but that had warranted a bite. Crazy woman. And she wasn't a 'fucking spaz', that was the pot calling the kettle black.

Still, the realization was delicious.

Hazel coughed innocently, angling her ear forward as if trying to hear better. She fixed Corinne with an amused grin, one that only widened when she made eye contact.

Phoenix Wing (A Fairy Tail RP-Always Open, Open)

Sorry, @Expolar, I completely missed that you posted. Reply's a little short but I wanted to make sure I had it done quickly.