Rhona W

GEARs: Silent Line [Anthro, Sci-Fi Mecha Roleplay]

I've been re-watching a mecha show from the late 90's that I started a long time ago but - for whatever reason - never finished watching.
The aesthetic of the mecha is very much up my alley; a near-future/modern dayish setting with smaller mecha that have mostly conventional weaponry. The series itself is pretty okay, but nothing to write home about. If nothing else, the main character is as stimulating as tepid bathwater and has the emotional range of a sponge, and there's a lot of political muttering alongside a lot of mystical mumbo-jumbo, so it does get bogged down (there's more than one conversation about grain exports...!)
Nonetheless, Gasaraki isn't actually too bad, and most of the animation has aged okay, especially for a late-90's TV anime.
The main reason I bring it up is because it's mecha designs are by the same gentleman who did the majority of designs for VOTOMS and thus directly influenced GEARs. I think the cockpit design for the 'ISHTAR' from Gasaraki is pretty dead-on for the amount of space and general configuration of a GEAR



There's also this image of a VOTOMs pre-production model, which is about the size I picture GEARs being, if not a little bigger. I know it doesn't quite scan with the weapons as statted, but we can stretch our imaginations. I just picture them being fast, small, mobile and with a range and ease of movement that's virtually equivalent to human, while still being sizable enough.



Hopefully that'll help for a bit of immersion!

Bogeys! - Air Combat Drama [OPEN]

Scott waited on the runway, holding at the end as the bombers and their escorts passed over; he knew the tactics well enough: they'd made their first attack, now they'd come around for a second run to wipe out what was left, capitalise on the destruction of their first attack and finish the job.
Not bloody likely... he thought with a growl into his oxygen mask.
He eased the throttle up to the stops, and the twin turbofans roared somewhere above and behind his head. Toeing off the the jets' brakes, it thundered down the runway, before he eased the stick back toward his belly. The A-10's design was optimised for short take-off and landings, and it quickly came unglued from the asphalt and quickly climbed, gear folding away into the jet's body.
Quickly, he took stock of the situation, listening in as other pilots who'd made it into the air co-ordinated their efforts, and the AWACS co-ordinating their efforts.
"Gravestone, this is Valentine. In the air, and looking for trouble. Got two AIM-9's and a mess of 30mm looking for a home, and I reckon one of those bombers looks like a good target. Requesting support from one of these Angels to stop my ass from getting blown off while I do, over".
He pulled the jet into a graceful turn, vapour chasing from the lightning-patterned A-10's wingtips as he pulled into a banking climb, pressure on the pedals shifting the Thunderbolt II into a course that would lead him onto an intercept with the TU-160's remaining in the skies. His plane might be slow, and not designed for air-to-air, but he'd be dead and cold before he let himself give up without at least trying to shoot down something in the air if he had weapons to do it with, and a brace of short-range air-to-air heatseekers and a near-full tank of GAU-8 rounds were a good start.
He set the HUD for air-to-air, and cued up the sights for the Sidewinder missiles, the supercooled seeker in the nose of the missiles looking out with an eye sensitive enough to detect the friction heat of air against metal, let alone the glaring blaze of jet engines.

Attack Roll

roleplayerguild.com/rolls/16366

The missile blasted from the dual rail under the A-10's right wing on a plume of white rocket-smoke, and Scott continued the turn, before inverting the banking turn and dipping the nose to throw off any pursuer, and bring the nose in line for a follow-up attack if needed on the big white bomber. Swan, his mind flashed momentarily, remembering the nickname he'd read somewhere that some other countries' pilots gave the big planes.

Bogeys! - Air Combat Drama [OPEN]

New Post :)

Also A-10s will now take -4 in their defensive rolls if attacked by SU-27s, sorry silver but dey out class yur fat ass a-10.

@DeadDrop

Yeaaaa, I knew that'd be a burden I'd have to bear for picking my favourite aeroplane, haha xD
I mean, it might suck ass at air-to-air against anything other than slow-moving and low aircraft, but a) it's a lot newer (and safer!) than an F-104, and b) it'll be worth it when/if we ever get a ground attack mission. And I mean, it's made to take a pounding too. Hopefully that'll remain true in this instance as well...!
_{hahahaohgodi'mgonnadie}

If I end up getting too fed up with it, I'll swap over to something else as soon as I get the chance/we get more choices, but ground attack is really my major interest when it comes to aerial combat and combat aircraft in general.

Writing up a post now. Suppose I'll try and take on the bombers xD

GEARs: Silent Line [Anthro, Sci-Fi Mecha Roleplay]

I think that's a full round of posts, so I'll get a new IC post up today or tomorrow - great so far, everyone ^^

GEARs: Silent Line [Anthro, Sci-Fi Mecha Roleplay]

So, I got bored and started writing away for a gap that I think you guys have in this RP- I'd absolutely love to get involved if it's possible! I think you need another cool cat around here, so here's a lion I made earlier :)

It's a little TBC in places so forgive me for that- it's my first properly created char in about a year and a half!

Max Fitzroy Bastion

Marksman/Reconnaissance:

Name: Maxwell Fitzroy Bastion (Max)

Age: 28

Species:

African Lion

Appearance:


Max has the long, wild mane that comes with being a lion- yet his almost gives him the look of a surfer or a biker rather than a special forces reconnaissance operator. Even for a lion, he's clearly let it go as his own taste. His golden-brown mane wraps thickly around his head and chin to past his neck, Max occasionally braiding his hair into Faerie Lock-styles when he feels like really pissing off his CO. His face is stoic, with staring golden-green eyes that are almost cold to the work he does, a strong chin and a scar running along the left side of his face by the side of his mane that extends to his ear. He has no spots of note, but his scar and particular mane make him stick out from afar. If you ask him about his messy look, he's unlikely to give you a response that is constructive.

Max also stands taller than many other lions of his size, and than any in his family. Whilst skinnier, he is well built, with multiple cuts and bruises across his body. With a golden-pale furry skin from paw to paw, he also has a short tail with a golden-black brush, the one thing he despises as a marksman for his aim. His training in the special forces, and his wanderlust have made him into an excellent athlete- though not as cardiovascularly fit as Vonys, yet not as physically capable as Fionn, somewhere between. While his skill may be in distant shooting, his close-quarters capability is potent and fierce, being more than willing to get himself in the way of a fight. It explains a lot of the recent bruises/cuts he's received- he doesn't exactly shy away when the time comes.

His voice is oddly silky and deep given his posh upbringing, yet can become gruff when on the frontline- capable only second to Fionn in timbre and volume, perhaps coming quire close when he roars. Unlike Fionn, his wroth is used far more often and has a bark to it- a lion's roar is not easily ignored.

Height: 6"7

Weight: 180kg

---

Personality:
Positive Personality Traits: Honest. Erudite. Brave/Confident. Patient. Pragmatic. Sarcasm (both)
Negative Personality Traits: Aloof. Selfish. Wrothful. Spiteful/Envious.
Dislikes: Laziness. Arrogance. Jumped up Officers. Rules. Adhering to Order.
Likes: Wisdom. Bravery. Freedom/Individuality. Humour/Laughter.
Fears: Failure, Shame.

Max appears to fall into many a trait of a lion- an almost recklessly brave, intelligent individual, who seems to not understand his flaws are from his strengths. Max's Special Forces history has clearly made him able to do anything, anywhere, anyhow and just be himself- a freeflowing agent of chaos who is quite literally lionhearted, almost to a fault. As a typical lion, he has a very strong personality yet has a want to be social and get on with people- though only if this doesn't come at the cost of his personal aims and ambitions, unlike much of Arvaran culture.

This makes him aloof at times and prone to avoid people, sometimes a little confused of the typical order of things and combined with his wisdom and intelligence, makes him either distrusting or very loyal to those around him he calls friends. He will get things done no matter what, and while patient in his work as an operator, he won't hesitate to go above and beyond to get the job done by any means required- a trait not even tempered entirely by his risk-taking attitude. War has clearly changed him- his stare is cold, and he seems very direct, moreso than he used to be when he was younger as a result of being involved in conflict- one could almost suggest it was like some form of PTSD. His constantly driven, direct, brave and no-bullshit approach has made him perhaps more self-interested than he ought to be, albeit with an overall motive and ability to do what is right for the people close to him. While he can laugh, it is sometimes hard for some people to get close to Max- his wroth certainly doesn't help when his patience snaps.

---------

History:

Born to an aristocratic father and a Doctor for a mother in the sunny south of Solernia, Max had it well to do when he was growing up- as the third son of five children he given a stable and happy upbringing. He had an otherwise quiet childhood in which Max was far quieter than his fellow pupils, he left with school above average grades and found himself drawn to Arvara's history and natural world- always in awe of the world around him. Yet of his siblings, he wasn't the most intelligent- his brothers and sisters in the Bastion family (Helen (35), Talisa (33), Felix (27) and Sam (23)) became architects, lawyers, accountants and a Doctoral researcher respectively in the end. Max was a black sheep, so to speak- even despite his good upbringing, he just wasn't going to be as good.

In youth, he found himself far more risky than others, and adventurous to set himself out- wanting to rebel against his parents and society in general. The sandy beaches of southern Solernia and the beating sun gave him summers spent surfing, joining moped gangs and anything that would give him more adventure. He wanted purpose, meaning, reason- a third child had to find one, and he found it in places most didn't seek to look. As capable as he was, he had no discipline, and just nothing but shenanigans on his mind.

He got into trouble with the police every so often but unknowingly to him, was bailed out by his parents more times than he really should have been and was straightened into line- put into the Royal Solernian Defence Force as a reservist to give him something to do that wasn't causing mischief. He studied Solernian History at university, graduating with good grades- yet was targeted from the outset by the Forces, who took him on as a reservist. He had no life plans, so when a career in the Defense Forces beckoned and appealed to his inner adventurer, he couldn't wait to take it on- becoming a full-time infantryman in the RSDF. And from there, he found purpose.

With experience in more and more peacekeeping deployments, Max was eventually trained in the RSDF Special Operations Forces two years in, relishing the opportunity to learn and develop. He learned how to pilot a GEAR, learning in particular how to use it in a versatile way rather than any specialist manner that would pay off for him in him in his role as a recon operative- always outgunned and needing to be ready for anything.

It seemed that the young, free spirited university graduate had given way to something far colder and darker. A lion doesn't often make a good infiltrator, or recon operator- yet Max, in his own way, made it his own. He was seen as an excellent reconnaissance specialist, able to cope alone and in putting himself in harm's way when needed with an aggressive strategy rather than a passive and quiet method. Most would have crumbled- but Max appeared to be very, very good at his job and taking lives in cold blood from afar or up close and completing objectives that allowed SDF forces the upper hand in engagements.

Max was daring- and he held high standards of his men, receiving the same respect back, eventually leading 2nd Squad, 1st Platoon in the RSDF 501st SF Reconnaissance Company. Reconnaissance in a large mechanized vehicle is still difficult for the best operator, moreso when you're miles behind enemy lines- but the actions of Max's unit ripped up the playbook, hitting silently, hard, or both against often overwhelming numbers and gaining valuable information without ever being even seen. The "Bastion", as he was otherwise known as wasn't afraid to get his paws dirty, being fully aware of not becoming dependent on his GEAR in combat despite using it to great effect in hit-and-run raids. The enemy couldn't report where he was if he had taken one of their eyes out, after all. As a result, command looked past his quirky traits- he did things his way, and he got results. In or out of a GEAR, Max was good at what he did, and most would have said that he seemed to have his life together. Almost too good.

A punch up due to a disagreement with Major saw him thrown into a brig for three months, and released back to a new normal- that of being on thin ice and under scrutiny. It felt like no matter who he led into battle, what he accomplished, there was a chip on his shoulder and he wasn't appreciated for doing what was needed. While some counter-terrorist and anti-piracy operations followed, he couldn't help but feel that he was being pushed away- into quitting, and that in itself even for someone as brave as Max just didn't sound like something he wanted to experience. While he'd love to spend more time surfing, travelling and living as fiercely independent as he does, he can't deny that the SOF gives him purpose and reason to be better than he was- and most of all, someone who can actually keep up with his siblings.

So the callup into the 33rd couldn't have come sooner. It was another SOF gig, and most of all, a fresh chance to carry on doing what he'd found gave him purpose, duty and drive in life.

Hobbies & Interests:
-Reading Natural/Aravan History
-Parachuting
-Surfing
-Cider
-Rock, Drum and Bass and Ambient Music
-Motorcycles
-Gaming
-The Great Outdoors

-------------

Personal Gear & Equipment:

K8 SOF Combat Knife
M8 PDS with Silencer/LAM

M23 ISS
-Thermal Imaging/Digital Optic, Bipod/Angled Foregrip, Side-Mounted Holographic Optic, Silencer, IR Laser Pointer, Golden-Grey Camo

-Alternatives used as appropriate

Personalised GEAR Suit and Helmet with faceplate, golden-brown-grey camouflage (helmet replacement during marksman work for a pair of smart goggles)
Pebble
Ommni-Tool
Personal First Aid Kit
Personal Survival Kit
Climbing Rope and Harness
PID (Laser Designator/Thermal Imaging Device)
Grenades/Smoke Grenades
Quadrotor UAV Reconaissance System (Link to Helmet Visor/Goggles)

@kingkonrad

Love him, all looks perfectly fine to me, and I'll be happy to approve him. Feel free to copy your sheet into the characters section, and I'll update the OP with his name and deets later today. Really glad to have you with us, and see you again too! You're free to post in the IC as soon as you like too.

GEARs: Silent Line [sci-fi, anthro, mecha RPG with a strong background and lore]

Bump, one place still up for grabs

GEARs: Silent Line [Anthro, Sci-Fi Mecha Roleplay]

That's okay, I'm on a late finishing shift myself. I'm reading this on my break, and I'll have three and a bit hours once I go back. Finishing at 10pm D:
Will likely roll into bed once I get home, haha

GEARs: Silent Line [Anthro, Sci-Fi Mecha Roleplay]

The first IC Post is up!

Nothing too mind-bending to begin with, just a chance for everyone to make a short situational introduction post; your characters are free to chat to each other before Silver arrives and while waiting, or to just leap right in and follow him aboard.
Once we get a round of posts up, I'll post one leading us right into the briefing and building up a bit more steam.
Enjoy, and I hope it's a good one; wanted to start off a bit light-hearted and fluffy with some minor situational humour before leaping into the drama (actual drama, not the internet kind), suspense, and action!

GEARs: Silent Line [Anthro, Sci-Fi Mecha Roleplay]

The Evening Garden was Princess Arelle's favourite place in the whole of the Royal Palace. Her mother had taken her there to play often when she was growing up, and it had always held a special place in her heart. The smell of honeysuckle and jasmine, and the way it caught enough of the day's warmth as the sun was going down in summer leant the walled garden an air of mystery and magic.
The personal and intimate association the garden had made it a place she kept to herself for the most part, and one she retreated to when she needed space to think.
Very few people were ever invited into the gardens' confines, and it was only for the most personal and essential conversations to those with a huge degree of trust and personal association.
This particular evening, there was the slightest of chills in the air and the perfume of the plants was muted, as were the soft evening songs of the birds. Arelle's hooves were a soft thump against the carefully tended earthen paths as she walked with casual and slow grace along the paths, a simple shrug of regal purple fabric around her slender arms and shoulders.
Her companion walked slowly and easily alongside her, hands clasped behind his back. The lions' smart military class-A uniform was a contrast to the Princesses' elegant yet beautiful dress, and his rugged and finely matured features similarly a contrast to her youthful beauty and fine features.
"Don't you think the garden is beautiful at this time of year, General?" the princess said as she leant close to a bell-shaped blossom, taking it in a slender-fingered hand, nose twitching as she moved her equine muzzle close and took a deep breath. "Even though the flowers are coming to their end, they still smell so sweet".
The leonine man leant close to another blossom, caressing the soft petals with the pads of his paw, before nodding slowly as he gave a short sniff of his own. "Your mother would always say the same thing, Princess. And you always loved Jasmine flowers when you were young. You used to bring me them whenever I was at the palace".
The regal mare turned around with the slight smile that was her hallmark, and the one-eyed lion gave a short chuckle as she tucked a blossom of the flower into the chest pocket of his uniform jacket and patted it, before stepping back and giving a sigh.
"So, General Vresco. Unfortunately as much as this is a lovely enough, I suppose we must sour it with business". The mares' rose-pink eyes looked over him carefully, the hint of that smile still playing around her alabaster muzzle.
"I trust my Royal Warrant was enough to keep things quiet and contained, and that you've put together what we discussed? Are the 33rd ready for action?"
"Of course, Princess," he answered, the fatherly tone abandoned for one more strict and professional in nature, and his posture straight and measured. "The 33rd have been reformed under a blanket of secrecy, with several back-stories and cover-stories in place, all of which are complete with numerous levels of redundancy and elements of the truth. The unit's home base has been established as Camp Adley, on the outskirts on the Capital; co-based with elements of the Royal Guards and also the Blackshoulder Special Forces and Counter-Terrorism unit. That gives further justification for any secrecy and more deniability too."
"Marvellous," the Princess said with a more firm smile and a spark of satisfaction in her eyes. "And the personnel? Hand-picked via both your and my own recommendations?"
He nodded and tapped a hip pocket. "Exactly the same as our discussion, your highness. All vetted and approved, and should be reporting into the unit in the morning. Though, they won't be at Adley".
"Well, quite". The princess said with a frown of annoyance that crossed her face like a brief summer cloud. "Enough is enough, with people going missing and armed skirmishes in Solernia that have killed innocent people and our uniformed people alike, it' time to do something active about this. I trust the rest of this to you, Mikol. The council likely won't approve, nor will others in the military". Her ears flicked with irrtation, and she stomped one hoof, pawing it at the ground in an ancestral reflex. "But in the words of my dearly departed grandmother..." She sighed and gently stroked another flower, a wistful expression on her face.
"By royal decree, they can go fuc-"

Early the following morning, with the sun having only poked its' head over the horizon less than an hour ago and the twin moons being chalk sketches in the sky, a rugged-built, grizzled, and bleary-eyed fox in a rumpled set of Solernian RDF utility fatigues rubbed his single eye with a grumble as he padded along the quayside toward a small (well, smallish) vessel tied up on one side of a pier. He paused to watch a moment as a mobile crane lifted the second-to-last of six huge crates from the flat beds of trucks onto the ship.
Each crate was marked and labelled the same, and of the same dimensions. It didn't take a well-seasond GEAR pilot to know what transport crates looked like.
As the last one settled onto the ship's fantail, Silverwind moved past, catching sight of the end of the railing leading out onto the pier and the bored-looking guard who manned it. A gaggle of other pesonnel, dressed like himself stood in waiting, and the fox took a breath.
Now or never, he thought to himself before steeling his expression and striding forward with a more prounced and certain attitude, heading for a somewhat uncertain looking squirrel holding a clipboard, and wearing junior rank insignia.
"Ensign," he drawled as he drew up. "You look like you're in charge of this detail," he said, gesturing to the assembled Arvarans. "Wanna clue me in on what's goin' on here?"
"Captain!" the squirrel fairly squeaked. "I was uh, just waiting for you to arrive, sir. My orders were to escort you all aboard and take you to the planning and situation room for a briefing from General Versco! Sir!"
Silverwind nodded, casting his single-eyed gaze over the assembled personnel. He'd been given a brief on joining this new unit, and it was only because Versco was an old friend that he'd accepted the job to begin with.
The people he'd be commanding were, from all accounts, a good bunch; their service files certainly said so, as did account of their previous exploits. But it was Versco's call to give them all a welcome brief first.
"Arright," he said with a half-smile, turning his attention from the squirrel to the assembled GEAR pilots. "Y'all are the 33rd, an' I'm sure yer in much the same mind as me right now; wonderin' what th' hell's goin' on an' why yer all here at this unworldly hour on such a fine mornin' too. Well, I'll be your commanding officer. Captain Silverwind Blade, at yer service. An' I'm lead to believe that an old friend of mine is on this little pleasure boat, waitin' ta give us all some answers. So, I reckon we all take our gear, and let our new friend here, Ensign-" he squinted a single-eyed glance at the squirrels' name tag, quickly roving over the blocky characters of Arvaran text "-LaRue show us to where General Vresco is waiting for us".
"Y-yes sir!" the squirrel blurted, virtually seeming to jump out of his skin. "If you'll all follow me!"
Silverwind nodded and beckoned to the others, and followed LaRue up the gangplank, and onto the ship.

GEARs: Silent Line [Anthro, Sci-Fi Mecha Roleplay]

OKay! Finally got this done:

Leslie Sobero

Name:Leslie Sobero
Age: 25
Species: Sika Deer

Appearance:
Leslie, like many in her family, is covered in a series of white spots on brown fur, though she has a few large patches of black fur on her forearms and back of the neck. Her face is solid brown save for a white fringe around her lips. She clearly works out, and anyone that sees her in plainclothes will easily spot how toned she is. This compliments her taller than average hieght, though she is not one to bulk up in strength training.

Height:5'11"
Weight: 180lbs

Personality:
Leslie is always on the lookout for potential problems, and how to deal with said problems. Between her training as both a GEAR pilot and handling explosives and other equipment, her natural focus, discipline, and meticulousness have served her well so far, and her ambition for promotions means that she holds her behavior to a high standard.

History:
The Sobero family have been in the mining industry for over four generations. Starting as a group of brothers operating out of a shed, the Sobero Corporation has become a powerhouse of the Solernian economy. From the tunnels that connect the nation to the Republic of Felaria to the iron that makes the rebar in countless buildings, there is no corner of the country that has not been touched by the Sobero Corporation. This meant that Leslie wanted for nothing growing up, from the best schooling to finest food to the most comfortable clothes.

As the only daughter and youngest of 6 children, she was treated more like a doll to be pampered than a person, and she loathed it. When she asked for a burger from a fast-food joint that her classmates liked, she got a gourmet version made by a celebrity chef with the finest of organic ingredients. One day before school she mentioned wanting to see a new movie with friends, and when she came home a copy had already been delivered to the family's theater for her private viewing pleasure a week early. She said she wanted to go camping, and her family made sure that their campground still had a full compliment of staff on hand even as far as having someone make the s'mores for her. In short, she was almost as smothered as a canary in a coal mine.

This wasn't helped by her own natural determination, which further made her chafe against the coddling. While she didn't have the natural academic or athletic gift of others, she made up for it with sheer drive. When she received her first bicycle, she was able to switch to two wheels within a month of practice, despite countless bruises and scrapes. She even went as far as to practice after dark by putting her bike on a treadmill, much to the alarm of the help. This soon developed into a competitive streak that meant that she more than held her own in many a school competition her parents signed her up for. This didn't go unnoticed on her parents, who were already talking about how she would be a natural businesswoman, fit to help guide the company to even further greatness, once she went to the university of their choice.

However, she had to disappoint them. Even though she held no ill will towards her family for the strong guidance, the military called to her. The egalitarian nature of the organization and the chance to see more of the world appealed to a girl that had been treated with padded gloves her entire life. It was a place where she could prove herself from the start, and gain respect naturally and organically. Her family name meant little. If she got into trouble it would be on her to deal with the consequences and, most importantly, any she could say that this was something she chose to do entirely on her own.

Signing up for Combat Engineering training, she worked her tail off to be in the top of her class. The day she earned her stripes was easily her proudest. With her attitude, it was going to be a fast track to promotion up the chain of command. However, she was disappointed. It took over a year of waiting and near constant drilling to receive her first major mission, and she is more than eager to prove herself.


Hobbies & Interests:
- Music, especially electronica
- Fine Art and paintings
- Puzzles, brainteasers, and riddles
- Performance vehicles, especially cars

Personal Gear & Equipment:

• GEAR Pilot suit and helmet
• Pebble
• Powered Omni Tool
• Multi-tool
• M23, Carbine Configuration, Laser sight, and reflex sight
• M8 Pistol
• M2 Combat Knife
• Folding Entrenching Tool
• Personal Survival Kit
• Remote Explosive Breaching Charges
• Grenade pouch with a mix of fragmentation, smoke, and flashbang grenades

@redbaron1234

Leslie looks fine, please feel free to post her to the characters' tab ^^ I'll add her details to the OP in the OOC to round out the cast too.

(Given the supposedly hand-picked nature of the unit, whoever Silverwind's boss was, they seemed to be going for Charlie's Angels given by the number of lovely ladies we have, haha)