Rhona W

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

Wooyay!

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

Silverwind had made his way to his quarters, and donned his GEAR pilots' suit, moving quickly after his meeting with Amelia. Following this, he'd confirmed the last details with the captain and other senior crew of the Landcruiser, before signing out his personal weapons and survival equipment from the quartermaster, before heading for the hangar bay, well due for the launch time for the op.
Already, his GEAR was stood waiting. He saw that one of the newer members of the group, one of the two who'd joined only the week before, had their GEAR on the move already and was putting it through its' paces under the watchful eye of the techs. It wasn't a surprise; the machine was the oldest in the unit. The Peril-class of GEAR had been the predecessor to the Harlock-class, and they were beginning to be replaced themselves. It was more than unusual to see a Peril outside of support or training corps, let alone on the front line. But on the other hand of it, Arcade had shown he knew how to handle his machine, and between the split of GEARs and equipment in the unit, they were in a position to maximise the machines' strengths, and cover it weaknesses. As it was, of course, with all their machines. After all, no GEAR was perfect. And neither was any pilot, despite many people he'd seen act or claim to the contrary.
Abandoning the line of thought as he turned away, the one-eyed fox gave a thumbs up to the rabbit technician at the foot of the Harlock as she grinned and gave a casual salute.
"All ready for you, sir. We made sure everything's checked, tuned and adjusted as much as possible. And we even vaccumed the seat and changed the air freshener."
He chuckled slightly and gave her a nod.
"I know you'll have done a great job as always. Thanks for all your work. I'll try and make sure it comes back in the same condition too".
She chuckled back and raised an eyebrow. "That'd be a first, sir. But good luck".
Chuckling and swishing his tail, he climbed up the hand-and-foot holds to the GEAR's cockpit, and secured himself to the linear frame chair, after donning his helmet. A handful of switches, and the hatch powered closed and sealed with a hiss, before the instruments came to life, the big panoramic screen warming up to show a 270-degree view of the outside for the entire height of the hatch, and the array of controls at his left and right hands coming to life. Moments later, his visor display filled with overlaid icons, and tags appeared on the screen display to boot.
The hum of power throbbed from the powerplant on the GEARs' back and through his seat, and a series of green icons and a pleasantly neutral female voice informed him that all umbilicals were disconnected.
Taking up the slack on both joysticks and in the linear frame, the GEAR seemed to straighten up as the electron-muscular fibres contracted with power flowing through, and Silverwind took a few steps, the GEARs' feet thumping against the deck-plates, moving to stand alongside Arcades' machine.
"Ready to move out?" he called over to the other GEAR through a laser-linked line. "Just gotta wait fer all the slowpokes ta get here"

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

Winter, I'm making a post as I really want to keep things moving on, and they've bogged down a bit. However, if you want to PM me Amelia's ideas/suggestions, we can bounce that back and forth, and I'll edit it in my previous post so we don't get held up.

Across Broken Skies [Ace Combat inspired RP]

No problems, thanks for keeping me updated!

Wings Over Germany

Thanks, I'll amend the sheet.

Across Broken Skies [Ace Combat inspired RP]

That's okay, no worries!

Wings Over Germany

I just found the Saab Lansen, and it's something I'd like to fly, but I realize there's no Swedes in the opening brief, d'oh!

Name: John Buchanon
Rank: Flight Lieutenant
Age: 33
Nationality: English
Aircraft: Hawker Hunter
Description:
Having fought late in the Second World War, John has seen a lot of action. He is now trying to twist his experience and understanding to fit the rapidly changing world post-war. With everything he saw during the war, he's saddened by the fact that more violence is to follow, and that peace was so fleeting.
Nonetheless, with a family back in the UK to look out for, he has ground down his doubts and pushed himself back into action once more, showing a strong sense of pride and professionalism in his duty.

Appearance wise, he is quite handsome and has a rogueish air. Like many men of the time, he has a pencil-thin 'Errol Flyn' moustache, and short, slicked back black hair. Otherwise, he has a fairly lanky frame with strong hands, and wide shoulders.

Wings Over Germany

I'll get a character up tomorrow (GMT), as I'm a bit too tired right now! But I'll probably play an RAF pilot, flying a Hunter, depending on what I can find that fits the time period. If it's up to 1956, I'm presuming we can have anything that's in service up to that point?

Across Broken Skies [Ace Combat inspired RP]

Okay team, there's a new post up launching us off on the mission. Follow it up with your own, and I'll keep things moving so we don't bog down.
Lost Cause, if you're joining us, then get your character up soon, and I'll write you in as joining us mid-mission, or after it returns. If you're not, then fair enough.

Across Broken Skies [Ace Combat inspired RP]

Ariella raised an eyebrow at Everett and Zola's banter. "You two won't have to be low and slow - I think you missed the briefing. You're doing all the ground attacks, since that's what your Fencer is built for, and it can carry so much. I'd say count yourselves lucky, but..." she left the sentence hanging, and grinned. "It's up to Swift and Musket to take all the pretty pictures so the Navy knows where to point all of its' guns. Halo and I have the glorious duty of covering all of your butts while you do your bit."
As Zola excused herself, the Israeli pilot returned the salute. The rest of the pilots began to get to the business of mission prep, leaving her to do the same. Like them, she looked up her charts and marked off the vital reference points for their run in, sharing her data with the others, before heading to the quartermaster to draw her survival vest, G-suit and other paraphernalia of fast-jet piloting.
Strapping into all the kit took a reasonable amount of time, and she made sure she'd hit the head before zipping into her 'speed jeans' and the heavy vest. As with all experienced pilots, she had a few of her own additions to the kit; a few minor personal survival items that could potentially come in handy. Given that they were flying over hostile territory as well, she was also provided with a sidearm and ammunition - although, should she get shot down, the thought of using it would be least in her mind. Escape and evasion was far more likely to be useful.
Most of the ninety minutes had gone by after she'd taken care of all of her business, and she was ready to walk out to the hangar by this point. Another siren announced the deceleration from Supercavitation speed, which was - thankfully - much smoother than the initial head-splitting acceleration, and was marked only be a series of moderate tremors and vibrations as the submarine slowed.
Making her way into the hangar, the pilot was surprised to see that the flight crews had managed to rearrange all of their aircraft as they'd armed and fuelled them. Every plane was ready for takeoff, and had been cleaned and whatever minor maintenance needed had been performed. All ground equipment was stowed, or in the process of being stowed, with only tow-carts and APU's around, whining their ear-splitting song as the engines of the planes were given initial power. The crew chief aimed a thumbs-up to her, and she returned one.
"Go do us proud!" he yelled and she nodded and gave a flashing smile back. "Sure thing, chief! We've got a lot of payback to chalk up before the books are balanced!"
Mounting the retractable ladder built into the Kfir, she settled into the cockpit and strapped in with some assistance, before accepting her helmet, handed to her by a crewman. A check of her watch showed time was up, and the mission was due to go.
A rumble sounded through the Nimue, and was promptly accompanied by a call over the PA by the captain for all crew to assume stations for surfaced ops, and for launch of aircraft.
The mission was about ready to go, and she felt excitement build, as the groundcrew shut panels and hatches on the planes, removed warning covers and tags, and the tow-tractor hooked up to her jet, and pulled it to the elevator. The canopy came down as the hydraulic platform lifted her to the launch deck. As the Kfir reached the end of the launching deck, the ceiling above her head split into two clamshell halves, and retracted down to either side, exposing the blue skies of a late Mediterranean afternoon.
Kalaxons sounded, and the tow tractor heaved the Kfir forward, hooking the nose gear up to the catapult bar. She went through the procedure taught a dozen, dozen times over in the training base for carrier launch, and practiced an even dozen more on an actual carrier in the atlantic. Throttles, instruments, checking outside the cockpit, engines, instruments-
She was as ready she was ever going to be. Then the light flash green, and someone yanked her hard from behind, as the Kfir with her aboard was slammed off the bow of the Nimue by the electromagnetic catapult. Back pressure on the stick, and the ocean fell away.
"Lioness, Excalibur One - Launch is good, and I'm taking up the hold pattern. Excalibur Squadron, let's get this party started".