Rhona W

Sky Warriors

If this is a huge issue then I'd much rather know now. But I don't think this minor design choice wont affect the gameplay.

I understand the reasons you explained behind the decision to have piston-engined fighters like biplanes and WW2-era aircraft alongside more modern aircraft, but I think the trouble for me is it's too much of a suspension of disbelief without more of a clearly defined and logical (to some degree at least) explanation of how this magic technology works.
If it can re-engineer and upgrade a fabric and wood, comparatively slow biplane to be on par with a titanium and composite material supersonic combat aircraft, then why isn't that technology being used to build aircraft from scratch? And if there's enough of it around to do that to planes, along with give them 'unlimited' cannon rounds and rockets, then it's hard to reconcile that with the element of scarcity in a post-apocalyptic world you describe.
I understand you're trying to go for a more 'videogame' approach and not worry about those things, but unfortunately for me as a roleplayer, I need a lot more understanding of how a setting and world works and functions to be able to place my character in it, and I can't find that here. Which is a huge shame, because as I say - I really like aircraft, and aviation RP's that have modern aircraft in, and this is literally the only one that's come up in more than a year.
I guess I'll have to say no, but thanks very much for thinking of me.

Sky Warriors

NOTE: This is a WIP and will be altered depending responses to earlier questions asked, and other possible changes.

PILOT
Name: Cameron 'Cam' Sinclair
Age: 30
Height: 5' 7"
Weight: 120kg
Pilot Class: Hunter
Nationality: USA
Appearance:

(Full Picture)
Bio:
Born to a South Korean mother and an American father, Cam grew up between the two countries. Proud of his dual heritage, Cameron was always a curious, creative and ingenious boy, who grew up into a headstrong, yet intelligent and quick-witted man. Taking advantage of the ROTC program in his college years, he joined the USAF after graduating to repay his debts, and as a chance to gain useful skills and connections. He found himself a natural fit for military life, and his aptitude and quick-thinking gave him a direct route into training as a pilot.

It was down in the weeds at low-level he found his niche. Earning a reputation for being 'on-time, on-target', he became a deadly and skillful air-to-ground attacker, building a strong understanding of the needs of close-air-support for troops and forces on the ground, and a great understanding of both the dynamics and situations of low-level ground-attack, and the threats specific to operating a ground-attack jet in a low-altitude battlefield environment.

As the 'war to end all wars' kicked off, Cam had already established himself well as a pilot with a ground-attack unit, and was stationed in South Korea. As the South-East Asian region collapsed, his unit found themselves quickly isolated from home, help and allies as all of the nations locally where their forces were based were consumed in their own conflicts, and help from home was cut off. Despite attempts to hold out for as long as possible and help the locals, it wasn't long before the US and South Korean forces were quickly overrun. Making hard decisions, the unit of A-10's and their support crews, as well as dependents and a handful of hangers-on managed to barter, steal, and bully their way into commandeering aircraft from regional airports and support units. Hopping across South-East Asia, they found their way from Korean to Diego Garcia, then to Africa and up to Europe. In each region they lost people and equipment as they became embroiled in local conflicts and politics, their numbers being whittled down quickly as they went through supplies, ammunition and people, and were increasingly forced to cannibalize their aircraft for spares, or others were rendered unservicable through maintenance issues.

Finally, after years and months of being on the move and their numbers being achingly whittled down and down, the last few personnel arrived in France. Exhausted and with only one A-10 remaining, they received word that there was a unit in Scotland looking for people in a new venture. Hopeful and with nowhere else to go, Cameron and the last surviving members of his unit and their dependents undertook one - hopefully - last journey to the shores of the former United Kingdom in search of something better than merely staying alive.

For Cameron in particular, the hope is to return home and find some, any, trace of his family, and to make some sense of where and how everything fell apart, and begin to find a new niche for himself. After watching his group of comrades and friends slowly picked apart, he feels an empty hole in his life, that he hopes to fill with new friends, and to utilize his skills and aptitude for some greater role than the menial existence of survival. With his nation - to his knowledge - nothing more than a vat of chaos and burned out wastes, the oaths he swore have come to mean little-to-nothing, and his service and dedication a hollow effort. He needs to find a place to belong to feel that his life has purpose and meaning again, and hopes that by joining the motley, rag-tag group of pilots making up the Albion Avengers he'll find something worth living and flying for again.

Theme Song: Jesus Built My Hotrod

PLANE:
Name: Fairchild Republic A-10 Thunderbolt II (unofficially nicknamed 'Warthog', due to its' supposedly ugly appearance)
Description:

The A-10 Thunderbolt II is a straight-winged subsonic jet aircraft, designed purely for ground attack. Intended for low-altitude roles, it's primary strengths are in the destruction of armoured and unarmoured vehicles and structures, and the close-support of friendly ground forces. It accomplishes this by being heavily armoured, and designed with redundancy and survivability in mind. The aircraft is capable of remaining airborne with the majority of either tail, wing or engine shot away, and the pilot is protected by titanium alloy armour around the cockpit area. Other systems add to its' survivability, and the aircraft is so rugged and hardy, as well as simple to maintain, that it can be operated from 'forward' rough-prepared airstrips and facilities, rather than full airbases, with minimal support crew and specialized tools.
The A-10 also carries a widely varied and fearsome arsenal of weapons, not least the massive 30mm, 7-barrelled GAU-8A Avenger cannon, which is capable of turning even the most heavily armoured of vehicles into scrap on a single pass.
Plane Type: Ground-attack jet
Extra Aircraft Notes:
A subsonic ground-attack jet, the A-10 lacks the full capability of an air-to-air fighter. It has no air-to-air radar, and is slower than most of its' contemporary aircraft.
It's straight, wide wings and high tail, combined with its' sturdy construction and landing gear give it an excellent short-take-off and landing capability, as well as the ability to use rough airstrips (such as roads, or even pounded dirt or gravel) as well as full airbase facilities for operations.

Max Speed: 600mph
Max Altitude: 50,000ft
Combat Radius: 300 nautical miles (fully loaded)
Loaded Weight: 14,500kg

Weapons Descriptions:

1 x internally-mounted GAU-8A Avenger 7-barrelled rotary cannon

11 x wing and underbody hardpoints for a variety of weapon and auxiliary systems. 2 x hardpoints plumbed for droptanks.
(**if the centreline hardpoint under the body is used, it can restrict the use of adjacent hardpoints)
(*multiple ejector racks can be fitted for up to some types of weapon, such as unguided bombs, rocket pods, or light gunpods)

Despite the fact it HAS 11 hardpoints, they aren't always all loaded, due to weight and flight restrictions.
Also, while it has a number of options below, it's not going to be carrying one of everyone on a mission... that would be ridiculous.

Loadouts can consist of a combination of the following weapons and systems across the aircrafts' hardpoints:

• Mark 80 series of unguided bombs
• Cluster bombs
• Incendiary bombs
• Laser-guided bombs
• GPS-Guided bombs
• Unguided rocket pods
• IR, TV or laser-guided air-to-ground/surface missiles
• Gunpods
• Maximum of 2 short-range IR-Guided air-to-air missiles (primarily for self-defence, or against slow-moving targets)
• Targeting pods (Laser targeting, 1 only. Though why would you need more?)
• ECM Pods (maximum of 1 only. Again, why would you need more?)
• Maximum of 2 droptanks (usually only used for long-range flight from one airbase to another, and not in combat)

Weaknesses:
As discussed above, the A-10 is designed for air-to-ground combat. It lacks a long-range air-to-air radar, and cannot carry any kind of radar-guided weapon systems. It is also significantly slower than many other other aircraft, as it is incapable of supersonic flight. The majority of its' weapons are also (comparatively) short ranged, as it does not carry any true 'stand off' weapons of any kind, such as cruise missiles, meaning it is often exposed direction to enemy firepower, such as SAMs and hostile aircraft in the area.

Past Encounter:
Cameron's most notable feat, and one that would be likely to circulate in bars and other hives of gossip and passed word and deed, is an operation over Malta around two years ago. While his unit were travelling through the region, they were at the local airbase, which had become a hub for refugees and military personnel both shuttling to and from Africa, the Middle East and Europe. The island was threatened by a mass attack from renegade forces in the area. No other combat aircraft were available beyond a trio of worn-down F-16's, primarily configured for air-to-air combat, and with inexperienced pilots.

Cameron and his wingmen sortied repeatedly, often taking off under fire from ships off-shore, and repeatedly hammered the landing forces with bombs, rockets and cannon-fire, turning them away from the coast, and buying time for defence forces to organize and repel each wave of invaders. They often attacked at 'danger close' distances, within feet of friendly forces with pin-point precision in even low-light and night-time conditions, suffering only minimal casualties. On multiple occasions they even took down attacked helicopters, Cameron notably blasting one out of the sky with a volley of unguided rockets at point-blank range, akin to using a shotgun in bird-hunting.

Their planes came back with considerable heavy damage on multiple occasions, yet their mainteinance crews managed to get them in the air again, and the pilots soldiered on despite crippling fatigue, eventually sinking the landing base ships and frigates themselves through some expert evasive flying to launch anti-ship Maverick missiles and 2,000lb Paveway laser-guided bombs into the sides of the ships and send them under. Eventually, they were relieved when reinforcements finally arrived from Spain, but the courage and tenacity of the A-10 pilots has been passed in through word of mouth.
=================================================================================================================

@Crazy Doctor - have to just say that I love your choice of plane. The Harrier is, in my opinion, one of the classic aircraft of all time. I've had the joy of seeing them at airshows in the past, and it's a great sadness to me that the Royal Navy and RAF retired them from service.

Sky Warriors

That's fine, but this has to be before the RP (IC) starts, then you are either committed or you aren't once the game is going, I don't expect much but a fair level of commitment once the game has started otherwise there will be no point in playing.

Don't worry about that; I know from my own experience in running games how irritating it can be to not have communication and a level of commitment from your players. Please do rest assured that you'll get plenty of fair warning, or at least a lot of well-thought out and well-explained information from me about any potential leaving or drop-outs.
I'm fairly busy this weekend (girlfriend's 30th birthday), so I might not be able to get my char up immediately, but I'll aim to have something for you by Sunday evening GMT at the latest. I already have my aircraft narrowed down, and it's just creating a character and getting familiar with the mechanics - I have only just got back from a vacation, so I'm kind of playing catch up still.

I take it that the planes submitted so far aren't too cartoonish? because we will be bringing in boss mechs and flying fortresses for enemies ala Ace Combat, Fire Shark and Starfox to give fair warning.

Ace Combat is my favourite franchise - I have an Ace Combat 2 STFS Scarface tattoo on my right bicep, so if things are going more that way, then you'll be in good territory with me. Flying fortresses and boss mecha are totally okay with me. It's when we have coal-powered biplanes that look like something from Stop The Pigeon that I'm supposed to accept are on an equivalent level with an F-22 Raptor that I begin to have problems. As long as that doesn't happen we're golden!

Just a couple of questions or clarifications - you mention that all the planes have a 'minigun'. I'm guessing by that you don't mean a minigun as in the anti-personnel weapon, but instead something more in line with the monstrous GAU-8 Avenger cannon, as seen on the A-10?

The second thing that I'm wondering is about aircraft; are we allowed to have, say, heavy aircraft such as large bombers or other multiple-engine 'heavies', for example B-52 bombers, AC-130's etc? I might not take one, but I'm batting some ideas around, and I'd like to know what's allowed or not specifically before I choose.

Also, are we allowed multiple load-outs for our planes - for example, in real life aircraft will equip different weapons to their hardpoints depending on what the mission profile is - bombs for some missions, missiles for others, to use a simplified example. Should we list all the weapons our planes are capable of handling, and then state which we're using on a particular mission?

Sky Warriors

I'm interested, and I'll post a character. However, I'm dubious as last time the planes got far too ridiculous and cartoonish for me, so I'll probably drop out if that happens again, to give fair warning.
I'm really into aircraft and aviation, and I do like to push the boundaries of belief and imagination. But some of the aircraft last time were just too out there for me.

Task Force Lima (COMPLETED)

Okay, massive post is up. Sorry it took so long, and hope it's what you wanted/needed.

Task Force Lima (COMPLETED)

Scott took off at a run behind Jan as soon as the Pole gave them the nod to move and the smoke grenades began to billow their cloud into the crisp morning air. Like his team-leader, he too shouldered through the already-cracked glass, entering the lobby in a storm of shock and violence. The screaming civilians shook him a little, but at least they had the common sense to stay low for the most part, and stick to the walls. Nonetheless, the scene was a chaotic one. Gunfire thundered through the enclosed space as AK's went full rock-and-roll, and the black-clad SAS trooper dived for cover, rolling on one shoulder into the shelter behind an ornamental planter. He squeezed off a volley of well-aimed shots from the .45 at a pair of gunmen, hitting each twice and collapsing them into sagging heaps, dead or wounded beyond effectiveness.
Jan's fire took more down, and he could hear and see the others moving up quickly. As he turned back, he realized he'd lost sight of Jan in the chaos of sound and movement. He heard more gunfire and picked himself back up, driving forward with the Mk.23 held at firing position. Another double-tap, another man down; he was burning through rounds quickly. He'd never even used his sidearm this much, and while he was glad of the .45's stopping power, the single-stack mags didn't leave much room for error. He only had two rounds in the mag left, and at this rate the four spares on his vest wouldn't last long either.
He heard a shout from Jan to move, and stepped out, moving forward in a low, loping run towards a ground-floor doorway. Pressing himself against the frame, he slid around it with the big handgun raised, the LAM unit under the barrel beaming its' red death-dot ahead. His nerves tensed as the muzzle slid across a human shape; but the blond, pale-skinned man in civilian dress quickly held his hands up, babbling and crying. Scott motioned him to the ground and pressed a finger to his own lips, urging for quiet as he moved through the room, doing the same to a pair of women who huddled on the ground. As he swept around another corner, his head snapped to movement; a door built virtually into the wall cracked open and as he whirled to face it, the muzzle of an FN-FAL poked out, blasting thundrous fire into the room in a full-magazine burst. Office fittings, christmas decorations and fake plants were shredded, and as Scott attempted to duck for cover, the line of rounds intersected his vest in the middle of his back. The 7.62 NATO rounds hitting him felt like sledgehammers in the middle of his back, and he sprawled to the ground, choking on his breath as he struggled to draw it in, spots dancing in front of his eyes. The vests' trauma plate had done it's job and kept him alive, but still; catching two hammerblows to the spine wasn't a cozy feeling on the best of days.
He drew in gulping, wracking breaths as he struggled to make his limbs work. He heard the hostile drop the empty mag out of the rifle and fumble to load another he dragged himself around. The Mk.23 had fallen from his hand during his sprawl and he had no time to pick it up. Instead, Scott launched himself forward, pulling his knife from its' sheath on his belt and reversing it in his hand. He grabbed the muzzle of the FAL, forcing it away and down as he stabbed the knife up, aiming for the tangoes' chest. He reared back and the wound was only minor, catching on the terr's shirt and jacket and only nicking the skin. Still in pain, Scott staggered as he was pushed back, before slamming a fist into the enemies' mid-section and this time ramming the knife into his opponents' neck. He pulled it free as the man ranted and hissed at him incoherently, pain in his eyes and disbelief as red, hot blood bubbled from his ragged neck-wound. Scott stabbed again, almost unnecesarily, and the weakened, bloody hands clutched at his vest as he slid to the floor, the FAL clattering to the carpet.
Shaking and grimacing, Scott wiped the knife on his pants leg and staggered to his pistol, picking it back up as he lurched into the next room. Jan's message to eliminate the hostiles came through, and he headed back for the lobby, breaking into a faster sprint as he heard the clatter of gunfire intensify. He caught more hostiles rushing from adjacent rooms to join in repelling Lima's assault, their eyes wide with fear and anxiety. Instantly they fired on him as he bought the big H&K pistol up to fire. He caught one between the eyes with the fire shot and his head snapped back with his finger on the trigger. The rounds from the Browning HP in his hand flew high, and one tore through Scott's bicep, and another whacked off of his helmet, jerking his head to one side. The man behind the one who'd taken the .45 to the braincase stumbled back as his comrade fell into him and struggled to force him aside, both he and Scott indisposed for a moment. Scott regained the momentum first and bought the Mk.23 back into aim, one-handed as his other arm went limp from the ragged wound across his arm. The tango panicked and tried to raise his stubby SMG for a shot, firing wildly as Scott fired with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes amidst the storm of 9mm rounds, one nicking his calf.
Stumbling and staggering, he dropped the mag from the Mk.23 as he hauled himself back into the lobby, forcing his aching arm to work and pull another slab-sided mag out of his vest and slip it home into the butt of the pistol. The crashing cacophony of the lobby assaulted his ears and the strobing muzzle-flashes. Gunfire surrounded them on all sides, and Scott threw himself into the fight with clinical precision after taking stock of things. There; a machine-gunner on the first-floor mezzanine, pouring fire down into the lobby. His suppressive fire was allowing the other hostiles, despite their small numbers, to reload and take shots. Grimacing, Scott took a breath and stood up, taking a two-hand grip on his pistol and rattling off four shots at the RPK and its' operator. The first two smacked into the cement lip of the balcony, the third hit the gun itself and threw the aim off. The fourth hit true, catching him in the neck and sending him sprawling to the floor. Scott took the opportunity to slide forward into cover and allow the other team-members to regain the initiative, before he forced himself back to his feet, opening fire again at another gunman and sending him sprawling, then his neighbour. Then the mag was empty again, and the radio crackled to life with Jan's message.
"Priority, priority. I've taken down the carrier, repeat, carrier is neutralized. Team, this is my final order. You're going to get inside the lobby and throw down your weapons and any kit that you have. Just do it. It's the only way you're getting out of this. Put your hands on your head, and wait. When they ask you any questions, you were following my orders and mine alone. If any of you are wounded, just sterilize and clean the wound, you won't have time to recover any shrapnel before they raid you."
Scott paused, sitting in the lee of the staircase a moment as he analysed the message. The enemy gunfire had died off moments before; he had no idea if, now, they were all dead, or had retreated. In fact, he was finding it quite hard to keep track of anything, and as he looked down at his sleeve, he quietly realized it was quite soaked in blood, and that his trouser leg on the same side beginning to also take on a wet, dark sheen that was creeping lower.
"Bugger," he muttered quietly, heaving himself up. "Doesn't look like I'll have time to deal with mine," he groused to himself as he limped into the centre of the room, looking at the others, and his expression darkening further as Jan's further messages came through, his reaction much like Neil's. The australian looked to him, and the big SAS trooper shook his head solemnly, swaying slightly on his feet, before he pulled off his helmet and threw it to the floor as Neil did the same with his gear.
"Just... just do it," he said in a half-mumbled slur. "He's getting the device away. Must have some kinda plan," he said, yanking on the quick-release for his vest and letting it fall off of him, before tossing his pistol to join it with a sad look; the gun had served him well through the last handful of missions. Letting it go felt like another betrayal. His knife joined it, and he assumed a defeated position. Shame, anger, humiliation and resentment burned through him as he sat there, expecting the flashbang. He looked at the faces of his comrades around him. Among them, only really Zhenya and Jan had been the ones he'd come to know well; though he had nothing against any of the others, and would trust any of them with his back. That he still considered Zhenya to be that trustworthy after them ending up in this mess kind of surprised him, but it was too little too late of a revelation. Even if he'd wanted to disobey Jan's orders, he was in no shape to do so.
He wobbled on his knees as he heard shouts outside the door in a foreign language, and the shuffle and hustle of booted feet along with sirens. He realized he was feeling quite feint What a shitty ending, he thought to himself absently as his mind wandered in a way he realized, with detachment, was probably the beginning of shock from blood loss. How many pints are in the human body again?
Shadows fell across the shattered windows and doorway, the acrid smell of spent gunpowder and the smoke grenades tickling his nose.
Pints, he thought absently, his mind wandering as an arm appeared around the doorway and threw in a tumbling cylinder that he followed through the air with his eyes, vision swimming.
I could really use a pint.
The flashbang exploded, and Scott's vision blurred into whiteness and his ears rang.
Shouting voices. Stamping, running feet. Shoving, shouting, pushing. Then a crash of pain, and blissful, black unconsciousness.

Task Force Lima (COMPLETED)

Sorry to nag, but anyone going to post?

@kingkonrad

I'm finding it kind of hard to come up with anything to follow on from your post with, if I'm honest. It seems a bit closed off to me to find anything to add to or react against and that's where I'm struggling in coming up with something to contribute.

Task Force Lima (COMPLETED)

Going to try and get one up tomorrow night for Scott!

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

I know everyone's going to be disappointed, and I'm sorry about that. But right now I'm just feeling pretty burned out and fed up with online forum-based RP altogether. I need to take a break for a while. And honestly, I think GEARs is kind of tired for me right now, and it needs to be put to bed for a while so I can just step away from things and concentrate on my other hobbies and interests for a while, and just do something else.

I'm sorry to anyone who's just joined especially; you didn't really have much of a chance to do anything. But honestly speaking, I feel like I've been running the game for everyone else rather than because I've been enjoying it for the last few months, and it's been a bit too dark, grim and miserable for me for a while anyway as well, and hasn't really gone as far as I would've liked in the year plus that it's been running.

Thanks to everyone who did join in and made the effort to keep it going. Again, sorry if you're all disappointed, but really I just don't want to do this any more. Every time I've looked at the site over the last week, it's felt like a chore to post anything or even open the thread, and I feel like I'm putting off things I'd much rather be doing to come onto the site.

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

Just going to wait and see if anyone else crawls out of the woodwork to post before I get anything up in terms of replies.