Member
I've heard that if your vision decreases while you're already a qualified pilot and it can be corrected to 20/20, then you can continue flying in some cases, but I think that would depend on what flying you were doing. And that might also have been in the past, rather than currently. I imagine having to use NV equipment makes it more of an issue.
Obviously any kind of injuries that require regular physical therapy, or anything that affects your respiratory system could be an issue, as would anything that affects your nervous system or skeletal system - G forces and pressure on the skeleton, reflexes and co-ordination (especially hand-eye co-ordination) and keeping your body supplied with oxygen, as well as lung capacity are all vitally important parts of piloting, I'd say.
And that's only physical injuries. Psychological ones are probably more common, and can be much more debilitating.
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- Old Guild Username: Silverwind_Blade
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Status
Recent Statuses
11 days ago
Current
F**CKING HOFF-STYLE!
18 days ago
The desire to join an RP instead of run one, but the lack of anything being advertised or open that fits my interests
9
likes
2 mos ago
Why are people posting 1x1 'looking for' threads in the main section, when there's a whole section for 1x1 RP's?
4
likes
3 mos ago
It'd be nice to be able to *play* an RP I'm interested in for once, rather than having to *run* one all the time. Of course, doesn't help that I'm picky about what I enjoy.
10
likes
3 mos ago
Hmmmmm... PM inviting me to an RP on Discord by a user who just joined the site and has no posts? Doesn't sound iffy at all, no sir.
3
likes
Bio
I've been roleplaying in one form or another since the late '90's. I've played as many tabletop games as I have online ones, and the quality of both has varied wildly.
I have an active imagination, and I love immersive, descriptive roleplaying. My genres of choice are sci-fi, and modern-day (with a sci-fi twist). I like RP's that mix reality with fiction, and throw an unusual and exciting twist into an otherwise normal setting - something like Stargate SG-1 would be an example, or Battle: Los Angeles. An almost recognizable world, but with some sci-fi twists.
I'm a fan of military and action-based RP's that do this especially, and they are easily my favourite - though I rarely see any that appeal to me enough - all the military RP's are too 'plain', and anything else modern day is usually fantasy or fandom. Or *shudder* school RPs...
I have a lot of fandoms; Transformers, Macross, MLP: FiM, Fallout, Battletech, Ace Combat, and others to varying degrees. But I don't often join fandom RPs because the ones I'm into don't come up, or I am very picky about my RPs and their plots and feel.
I don't play in free, as I find the short posts and bad spelling and grammar infuriating. I like a lot of depth, story, setting and character to my RPs, so am usually found in Casual and sometimes Advanced. Though, usually running my own RPs.
I'm 43 years old, and live in the UK, so I may not be on all the time.
I also like playing non-human characters, especially anthro ones, robots or synthetics, or some hybrid of both.
Outside of my RP tastes and hobby; I read a lot of books, play wargames and TTRPGs, make model aircraft and vehicles, and am also a brony and furry. I have been running a large local furmeet group for the last 10 years and have been involved in running a very successful UK MLP convention.
I have an active imagination, and I love immersive, descriptive roleplaying. My genres of choice are sci-fi, and modern-day (with a sci-fi twist). I like RP's that mix reality with fiction, and throw an unusual and exciting twist into an otherwise normal setting - something like Stargate SG-1 would be an example, or Battle: Los Angeles. An almost recognizable world, but with some sci-fi twists.
I'm a fan of military and action-based RP's that do this especially, and they are easily my favourite - though I rarely see any that appeal to me enough - all the military RP's are too 'plain', and anything else modern day is usually fantasy or fandom. Or *shudder* school RPs...
I have a lot of fandoms; Transformers, Macross, MLP: FiM, Fallout, Battletech, Ace Combat, and others to varying degrees. But I don't often join fandom RPs because the ones I'm into don't come up, or I am very picky about my RPs and their plots and feel.
I don't play in free, as I find the short posts and bad spelling and grammar infuriating. I like a lot of depth, story, setting and character to my RPs, so am usually found in Casual and sometimes Advanced. Though, usually running my own RPs.
I'm 43 years old, and live in the UK, so I may not be on all the time.
I also like playing non-human characters, especially anthro ones, robots or synthetics, or some hybrid of both.
Outside of my RP tastes and hobby; I read a lot of books, play wargames and TTRPGs, make model aircraft and vehicles, and am also a brony and furry. I have been running a large local furmeet group for the last 10 years and have been involved in running a very successful UK MLP convention.
Most Recent Posts
In
GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
With what Hailfire has said, I have to say myself that I'm losing interest in this RP rapidly. While I said I was content to keep the pace somewhat casual, the fact there's been nothing more than a dribble of posts in a week has really sapped my interest in driving things forward, despite the fact I had something of a good plot planned.
That said, I will now just post the IC whenever I see fit. If people get left behind too much, then too bad.
If you're interested, then post.
If you are 'too lazy' or have nothing to post, then it might be best if you drop out, or find another RP.
That said, I will now just post the IC whenever I see fit. If people get left behind too much, then too bad.
If you're interested, then post.
If you are 'too lazy' or have nothing to post, then it might be best if you drop out, or find another RP.
In
After War, Before Peace (Military, Alternate History/Post-war RP)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
The IC is up - I may edit it further, but I didn't want it to get too long.
For your first posts, at least post your character arriving on the island somewhere. Whether you run into the NWA or Bryan or not is up to you, as is how you get there. However, the main jist will be for us all to meet up, and secure some way to get off of the island with the NWA in hot pursuit - even if it's just crossing from Buka island to the main body of Bougainville, to reach a harbour or airstrip in order to keep the detonators off of them.
As we go along, more of their plan will be uncovered, but they'll be hounding us the whole way, which is the main point.
For your first posts, at least post your character arriving on the island somewhere. Whether you run into the NWA or Bryan or not is up to you, as is how you get there. However, the main jist will be for us all to meet up, and secure some way to get off of the island with the NWA in hot pursuit - even if it's just crossing from Buka island to the main body of Bougainville, to reach a harbour or airstrip in order to keep the detonators off of them.
As we go along, more of their plan will be uncovered, but they'll be hounding us the whole way, which is the main point.
In
After War, Before Peace (Military, Alternate History/Post-war RP)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Buka Town
Buka Island
Bougainville Province
Pacific Ocean
2014
Bryan lowered the binoculars from his face and frowned in deep concern. The view wasn't encouraging.
The deep-water harbour was a little way ahead. The quayside was intact, as was the equipment and the buildings, for the most part, which was what he had counted on when bargaining passage here from Papua New Guinea, and getting away from the chaos raging through the country there as the remains of the government fought a bloody war with internal dissidents and elements of the NWA. He'd picked up the trail that other allied forces might've passed through this region, and there were airstrips here. But he hadn't seen or heard anything, and now the sight of the slate-grey destroyer sitting at rest there, and the Submarine parked further out.
Most worrying about the situation though was the flag stirring gently in the breeze from the mast of the ship - the stylised swastika in a white circle on a blood-red field... the symbol of the NWA.
He cast a glance back over his shoulder at the old man who'd driven him this far on the rusty old fishing boat. He shook his head slightly giving a crooked apologetic smile. His skin was naturally dark, but years spent working in the sun had darkened it further. There was no doubt that he had a lot to fear from the NWA, and he couldn't blame the man for wanting to stay here. Nonetheless, he had to get onto the island to look for a way further on, and going back would be no help either, at this stage.
Looking back toward the man, he dug into an inside pocket on his BDU jacket, withdrawing a wedge of money.
A short while later, he paddled the small boat to the shore, and dragged it up the beach, tugging it out of sight and hiding it under palm fronds.
Changed out of his BDU's and dressed in inconspicuous civvies, he walked carefully and slowly along a path from the beach toward the outskirts of Buka.
The town had been the capital of Bougainville following a civil war before - and during - WW3, but the war had found the island after ships had sheltered there and aircraft had transited through, and had been the site of battles. The evidence showed itself, as he passed an area of burned out jungle with the wreck of a Blackhawk at the centre.
The town beyond was similarly damaged and dishevelled. The majority of the buildings remained standing, but many were ragged with bullet-holes, or had missing parts of roofs, or smashed glass in windows. There were signs of life, but no one was out on the street to see him walk past.
As he approached the quays, he slowed down. There were armed men at the edge of the docks in small numbers, wearing dark uniforms in tropical cuts. Notably, all of them were white.
Opposite them were - he imagined - members of the submarine crew and its' captain. Their uniforms were light in colour, but had no insignia attached. The captain carried a briefcase, while the man opposite him had a pair laid out on the tailgate of a pickup.
Hesitating, Bryan surveyed the scene and then walked closer. One of the black-clad men blocked his path with a hand out.
"Hold it," he said "What're you doing here? Turn around and walk on".
"Sorry," said Bryan with an open smile, as his eyes darted around at the group. "I was just wandering - where am I, could you tell me? I'm a little lost".
The submarine captain glanced over at him, and answered, his hands folded.
"Yer on Bougainville Island. And if you know what's good for you and you wanna stay out of trouble, you might as well turn around and get the hell out of-"
Bryan caught a movement behind him. The Captains' XO had drawn his pistol and raised it. Reacting reflexively, Bryan yanked his P-226 out of the waistband of his pants, and fired, catching the XO in the arm, and shoving the NWA soldier away. The others opened up as the XO shot the captain in the back. Diving past the men around him, he snagged the briefcase from the captains' hand, and pounded across the tarmac, wincing as a bullet creased his sleeve. Behind him, the gunfight erupted between the Sub crew and the NWA forces, as bullets snapped through the air around him.
Bryan yelled and ran into cover, sliding down a muddy bank and slipping around the side of a van, the briefcase still banging against his thighs as he ran.
Panting, he dived into cover in a ditch, and one thought crossed his mind:
Why the hell am I doing this?
Back at the dock, the NWA leader kicked the body of the dead submarine captain and glared at the XO
"Who was that man? And where the hell is he going with those detonators and decoders? Is this some kind of double-cross?"
"I assure you, I have no interest in double-crossing you. I've been feeding the captain information for weeks, and most of the crew is on my side. We guided him here with the aim of getting your money in exchange for the detonators, and it wasn't easy. I have no interest in screwing you over now. We just need to find that man!"
The NWA commander turned around and beckoned a radio man closer. Lifting the handset, he spoke words rapidly and in short commands into the handset, before replacing it with a grimace.
"If he's out there, we'll find him - our men and their allies will scour the island to find him, and anyone else who's with him. We need those detonators. And if we don't get them back..."
His eyes fell upon the XO with a cold gaze, and he shivered under the look. The meaning was clear.
Bryan shouldered his way onward through the jungle. Leaving the roads behind had seemed like a good idea, but the going was hard, even if there was something of a trail. Not to mention, the heat was sapping his strength as much as the wound on his arm, and the weight he was carrying between his heavily packed kit bag and the briefcase.
Pausing, he heard no evidence of pursuit, and took a moment to take a few gulps of water from a bottle he'd secreted in his kit bag. Crouching, he flicked open the case and his eyes widened.
"Holy shit," he muttered as his eyes roved over the boxy shapes of the detonators. Special Weapons (as the euphemism went) weren't exactly part of his training, but between the submarine and the amount of people shooting each other, he could make connections.
He was in over his head.
But letting the NWA, neo-Nazi genocidal cult army that they were, get hold of them, would not end well for anyone. Making a decision, he stuff the detonators into his kit bag, and filled the briefcase with rocks from the jungle floor. Scrambling to his feet, he ran on, heading north-east.
Around the island, the roads and trails came to life with growling engines and shouting men as the NWA forces scoured the area for Bryan, and for the missing detonators. Anyone in their path was a suspect - and anyone else, was a target.
Buka Island
Bougainville Province
Pacific Ocean
2014
Bryan lowered the binoculars from his face and frowned in deep concern. The view wasn't encouraging.
The deep-water harbour was a little way ahead. The quayside was intact, as was the equipment and the buildings, for the most part, which was what he had counted on when bargaining passage here from Papua New Guinea, and getting away from the chaos raging through the country there as the remains of the government fought a bloody war with internal dissidents and elements of the NWA. He'd picked up the trail that other allied forces might've passed through this region, and there were airstrips here. But he hadn't seen or heard anything, and now the sight of the slate-grey destroyer sitting at rest there, and the Submarine parked further out.
Most worrying about the situation though was the flag stirring gently in the breeze from the mast of the ship - the stylised swastika in a white circle on a blood-red field... the symbol of the NWA.
He cast a glance back over his shoulder at the old man who'd driven him this far on the rusty old fishing boat. He shook his head slightly giving a crooked apologetic smile. His skin was naturally dark, but years spent working in the sun had darkened it further. There was no doubt that he had a lot to fear from the NWA, and he couldn't blame the man for wanting to stay here. Nonetheless, he had to get onto the island to look for a way further on, and going back would be no help either, at this stage.
Looking back toward the man, he dug into an inside pocket on his BDU jacket, withdrawing a wedge of money.
A short while later, he paddled the small boat to the shore, and dragged it up the beach, tugging it out of sight and hiding it under palm fronds.
Changed out of his BDU's and dressed in inconspicuous civvies, he walked carefully and slowly along a path from the beach toward the outskirts of Buka.
The town had been the capital of Bougainville following a civil war before - and during - WW3, but the war had found the island after ships had sheltered there and aircraft had transited through, and had been the site of battles. The evidence showed itself, as he passed an area of burned out jungle with the wreck of a Blackhawk at the centre.
The town beyond was similarly damaged and dishevelled. The majority of the buildings remained standing, but many were ragged with bullet-holes, or had missing parts of roofs, or smashed glass in windows. There were signs of life, but no one was out on the street to see him walk past.
As he approached the quays, he slowed down. There were armed men at the edge of the docks in small numbers, wearing dark uniforms in tropical cuts. Notably, all of them were white.
Opposite them were - he imagined - members of the submarine crew and its' captain. Their uniforms were light in colour, but had no insignia attached. The captain carried a briefcase, while the man opposite him had a pair laid out on the tailgate of a pickup.
Hesitating, Bryan surveyed the scene and then walked closer. One of the black-clad men blocked his path with a hand out.
"Hold it," he said "What're you doing here? Turn around and walk on".
"Sorry," said Bryan with an open smile, as his eyes darted around at the group. "I was just wandering - where am I, could you tell me? I'm a little lost".
The submarine captain glanced over at him, and answered, his hands folded.
"Yer on Bougainville Island. And if you know what's good for you and you wanna stay out of trouble, you might as well turn around and get the hell out of-"
Bryan caught a movement behind him. The Captains' XO had drawn his pistol and raised it. Reacting reflexively, Bryan yanked his P-226 out of the waistband of his pants, and fired, catching the XO in the arm, and shoving the NWA soldier away. The others opened up as the XO shot the captain in the back. Diving past the men around him, he snagged the briefcase from the captains' hand, and pounded across the tarmac, wincing as a bullet creased his sleeve. Behind him, the gunfight erupted between the Sub crew and the NWA forces, as bullets snapped through the air around him.
Bryan yelled and ran into cover, sliding down a muddy bank and slipping around the side of a van, the briefcase still banging against his thighs as he ran.
Panting, he dived into cover in a ditch, and one thought crossed his mind:
Why the hell am I doing this?
Back at the dock, the NWA leader kicked the body of the dead submarine captain and glared at the XO
"Who was that man? And where the hell is he going with those detonators and decoders? Is this some kind of double-cross?"
"I assure you, I have no interest in double-crossing you. I've been feeding the captain information for weeks, and most of the crew is on my side. We guided him here with the aim of getting your money in exchange for the detonators, and it wasn't easy. I have no interest in screwing you over now. We just need to find that man!"
The NWA commander turned around and beckoned a radio man closer. Lifting the handset, he spoke words rapidly and in short commands into the handset, before replacing it with a grimace.
"If he's out there, we'll find him - our men and their allies will scour the island to find him, and anyone else who's with him. We need those detonators. And if we don't get them back..."
His eyes fell upon the XO with a cold gaze, and he shivered under the look. The meaning was clear.
Bryan shouldered his way onward through the jungle. Leaving the roads behind had seemed like a good idea, but the going was hard, even if there was something of a trail. Not to mention, the heat was sapping his strength as much as the wound on his arm, and the weight he was carrying between his heavily packed kit bag and the briefcase.
Pausing, he heard no evidence of pursuit, and took a moment to take a few gulps of water from a bottle he'd secreted in his kit bag. Crouching, he flicked open the case and his eyes widened.
"Holy shit," he muttered as his eyes roved over the boxy shapes of the detonators. Special Weapons (as the euphemism went) weren't exactly part of his training, but between the submarine and the amount of people shooting each other, he could make connections.
He was in over his head.
But letting the NWA, neo-Nazi genocidal cult army that they were, get hold of them, would not end well for anyone. Making a decision, he stuff the detonators into his kit bag, and filled the briefcase with rocks from the jungle floor. Scrambling to his feet, he ran on, heading north-east.
Around the island, the roads and trails came to life with growling engines and shouting men as the NWA forces scoured the area for Bryan, and for the missing detonators. Anyone in their path was a suspect - and anyone else, was a target.
In
After War, Before Peace (Military, Alternate History/Post-war RP)
→
12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Don't worry about it - there's no rush or anything
I'll be getting the IC up this evening.
I'll be getting the IC up this evening.
In
After War, Before Peace (Military, Alternate History/Post-war RP)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
10+ No-prize points to you! well done, sir :D
Also, because I don't fill the OOC with enough crap already, Cracked had one of their 'this is what this job is like' articles with a Fighter Pilot, which I figured might be of interest to folks here:
http://www.cracked.com/article_20991_5-reasons-flying-fighter-jet-way-crazier-than-top-gun.html/?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=fanpage&utm_campaign=new+article&wa_ibsrc=fanpage
And, to quote:
http://www.cracked.com/article_20991_5-reasons-flying-fighter-jet-way-crazier-than-top-gun.html/?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=fanpage&utm_campaign=new+article&wa_ibsrc=fanpage
And, to quote:
It's not unusual for a pilot to suffer career-ending injuries from ejection: Roughly one-third of pilots who eject suffer compression fractures to their spine. It's typical for a pilot to be an inch or two shorter after ejecting. That's right: There's a "make me shorter" handle in your jet.
Read more: http://www.cracked.com/article_20991_5-reasons-flying-fighter-jet-way-crazier-than-top-gun.html#ixzz2wLUS8Oet
In
GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.
→
12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Okay, seriously waiting on people to make posts now. I know that Rafale is away, and I gather that some of you are in school and have exams or whatever. But if no one makes a post soon, I'm going to start squinting at how long it's been since people have made posts, since no-one has said anything about their whereabouts. I can't see how it's hard to make a post, given the last plot-related one I made was pretty easy to follow on from.
In
After War, Before Peace (Military, Alternate History/Post-war RP)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Hi, everyone. Sorry it's taken so long to get the IC up. I've been sick, and also I've been on a work-skills course this week, so my time has been eaten up a bit. Rest assured that I will be getting the IC up this week. I'm going to aim for tomorrow.
The first post will be to 'get the band together' (if you get that semi-reference), and will involve us variously stumbling across and getting involved in, an illegal arms deal. This will lead onto bigger things and issues, and should get us pretty much into the action right away.
The first post will be to 'get the band together' (if you get that semi-reference), and will involve us variously stumbling across and getting involved in, an illegal arms deal. This will lead onto bigger things and issues, and should get us pretty much into the action right away.
And a post from me is up. Woo. Hopefully I can get a few more kills this time :P
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