Steel Legion

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

Sorry for not replying i'll get more free time soon to do so.

Mafia Crime Family RP

@MisterBobbyPin

The problem is that while i like the whole gangster era. I just cant do crime. Crime sucks.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

Fret Chappel : Human : Prospector

After the rifle was full of its lethal payload he left the small metal room and cautiously padded down the corridor towards the embarkation point passed the belly of the spacecraft. As he got down there he could feel the cold of the wind blowing up through the cargo hatch.

He felt his hair stand on end; he had left his winter coat in the room. He was naturally quite resistant to the brisk air. Wearing his red shirt and hi-fibre slacks with suspenders.

As he exited the hatchway he could see a large group of what looked like civilians. They were being kept at bay by a couple of bots that were spitting sparks at them. There was much confusion as they were trying to make their way to their flights, this could very easily turn to panic.

"Someone needs to keep them calm." thought Fret

He raised both his arms like a cactus and walked calmly to the group. Rifle held pointing straight up in one hand.

"Calm... Calm" he said

"Remain Calm."

His voice was almost completely lost in the worried murmuring. However, his arm was not. He was armed. The civilians looked upon him with equal parts fear and awe. They probably didnt speak old English.

"What can i do?" he thought.

He accessed his third eye and found his personal playlist, then set its speakers to max.

Music

The local area around him was filled with bemused and quizzical looks. However most of them couldn't even hear the music over the wind.

"Thats right... Happy, happy... yes" he said and smiled.

And for a moment. It was.

"Yes, remain calm, the security w-"

________________________________________ Then It Started _______________________________________________

Then the bullets started flying.

Screams and confusion started out.

The civilians started to charge past him. Which took only a second. Then he could see over by a police car a fierce firefight had lit up.

"Shit, i need to find cover"

He looked over and around, there were a few boxes... but who knows what they contained... fuel cells that would go up like a firework? Nah.

He crouched and duck-walked / sprinted over near one of the big landing gear tires of the Jotunheim.

"Good, with the weight of this thing these tires are probably thick as steel." he thought.



He leveled his rifle so the iron sights lined up... Which took some trial and error.

Sure it was old generation but he didnt want to have to teach a new one how to shoot again.

With any luck, it would know how to shoot this type of target. The projectiles themselves would do the aiming with aid of onboard microchips in the rifle.

He paced himself.

He knew that, once he'd shot they'd know where he was.

The situation was degenerating quickly, and what sounded like a GAT-9 heavy machine gun was going on.

He cycled through the various modes in his cybernetic third-eye. Heat, electrical, polarised light etc. There was a small group of... somethings... putting up a fight. He couldnt really see them because they had IR blockers on.

Then he had an idea.

He looked at his WIFI list. There was a loading animation.

Slowly they started being populated.

He could see 3 civilian ones. He looked around, most of the civilians had sprinted off. There was a few phones laying on the ground over by where he was.

"One, two" he said.

Then a few weird ones popped up. 5 in total. Had no kind of address he'd ever seen before. They were obviously the comms of task force "fast course" over there.

The animation was still loading.

There.

One... two... three... 8 pings... that must be from the enemy team.

Just then he saw the enemy team break cover and try to blitz up on the defenders.

They were rattling away with carbines and some serious shit was going down for them.

Then the smoke from the police car cleared with what looked like someone laying down by it,
and he got a clean shot on the HMG-guy. He was wearing huge armor, but this didnt deter Fret.

"Sorry..." -POP- -PPOPP-

He immediately flipped around behind the cover. And breathed out.

Mafia Crime Family RP

Is it 1920s?

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

Fret Chappel : Human : Prospector

Music

Fret walked down the cold metal lining with the artificial air of the space ship corridor. It was a cramped corridor.

Shortly, he found what was to be his quarters.

Walking inside the brushed steel miniature room,
a small bed that slid out from a drawer he unslung his survival burgen and sat it alongside one wall. The door closed behind him with a reassuring k-shuuk. "distinctly nordic", he thought.

As he was early for his flight, a flight that might last months or even years he decided to make himself at home in his new room. Without taking his boots off he slid the bed back into its drawer half way and sat down with the back of his head resting on the frame. He began to do his meditation. Closing his eyes with legs crossed he tried to find the golden light. The one that had been left in his burnt retinas.

After he had been injured by a star grenade he had had to spend weeks in convalescence, left with the golden light. At first it had been painful and had kept him crying out and sweating all night long. After about a week he had decided he just had to make peace with it. And the pain had subsided.

So there it was, the golden light. It was getting harder to find now as he had more distractions in his life. But he had gotten used to it. Indeed it actually seemed comforting.

Not many people would volunteer for such a journey that would last years, possibly a lifetime on an alien planet.
Especially one that just involved checking rocks constantly and logging mining sites. Sites to be sold to future corporations that likely didnt exist yet. Many burnouts would be aboard this ship, he knew.
"I wonder what it would be like to meet them. Their stories."

When the claxon started going off his eyes shot open. Including his cybernetic third eye implanted in the middle of his head. What on earth could this be? He heard the announcement over the tannoy. "Well" he thought "I am not security personnel so i wont be troubled with it". Feeling uneasy he got up and slid the small metal tab on his door to the locked position. "There, i cant be killed now..." he thought.



After a little while he started to pace up and down the miniature room. I say, pace, it was more like one two steps and turn and then another two steps and turn.

"But what about the others...?"

After a little while he moved over to the survival burgan and opened the rifle holster and slid out the rifle. Nervously he digged around to find a small box in his backpack. He popped open a cardboard cartridge box by crusing it with the palm of his hand on the bedside... and began thumbing cartridges down into the circular magazine. One-two-three. He listened out for anything dangerous outside.

"Bloody ME, its not like i havent seen enough killing to last TEN lifetimes." he cursed quietly.

Current Mood in One Gif

"One reminds me of spaghetti. The other reminds me of pastries."

Orion Asunder (Space Opera NRP)

WIP"lash"

Nation Name/Flag:

Nexans

Map Location: currently close to the three other nations

Migration Pattern

Government Type: Nomadic Military Tribe

Government & Society:

The Nexans are a warrior brotherhood first and a government second. This is encapsulated in their ethics. In battle it is not the highest rank that is that is considered officer, rather it is the squad member that is in the most pain. The wounded squad member is considered to have made the most sacrifice to the cause and therefore deserving of the most respect. This respect transcends traditional military insignia. And, provided that they are not overwhelmed by their wounds, they may go on to formulate the plan of attack.

“Nexans dont fight with their mind, they fight with their heart.” - Nexan proverb

The general battle plan is usually so well understood by the individual warrior, via aid of high-spec battlefield software, strategy training, years of battlefield experiance and high IQ attained via genetic modification that this method actually works quite well: units can operate when cut off from their command structure; officers have to lead from the front if they wish to attain rank; armchair generals are generally rare.

The average Nexan follows a Ascetic life style. They do not need many luxuries for themselves, though they do try to give them to others. Their primary concern is the freedom of the human race. They believe that nature has invested in them the ability and the right to set others free, and they will do it at all cost. Whether this belief is true or is some sort of genetic instinct which is a remnant of their genetic tampering is unknown. Due to this they live very carefree lifestyles, as long as something does not bring dishonor it is viewed as fair game.

"There are many wrongs but only one right." - Nexan proverb

When Nexans choose a specialization they try to complete it with the utmost attention and serenity. Whether its ship reactor maintenance or space suit design and manufacture or even mercantile trade, these things are always done alongside the responsibility of the brotherhood, rather than to exclusion of it. It is a bylaw that all officers and specialists must be combat-ready and complete the monthly assault course assessments.

Demographics: All Nexans are genetically modified and have above-human endurance, strength and toughness. They can regenerate lost limbs and organs over the course of many months. As such they all share many of the same genes. Due to this they are all actually much closer related than brothers. It is possible to join the Nexans, however you must accept the genetic mods to bring your abilities up to their level. So far there have been no aliens admitted, but this is not due to xenophobia.

"Do not seek to triumph over others, triumph over ones self is the long war" - Nexan proverb

Nexans often deploy younger "Acolytes" onto second-line roles on the battlefield, such as driving supply vehicles and erecting defenses. They are all given a universal general education with particular emphasis on mechanics and science. These Acolytes can strip and reassemble a rifle blindfolded by the age of 15. By the age of 20 they can perform martial arts blindfolded as well.

Resources for the war machine are often attained through capturing asteroids and are mined by automated machines. However the bulk of their armory is sustained by trading with generous alien races (some of which are unrecorded) and relics taken from enemy armies. The "Research Core" which is by far one of the largest departments in their military, is constantly unlocking the secrets of alien relics and testing new weaponry.

Military: (The fun part! What’s defending your nation in these uncertain times? You can provide as much or as little detail as you like. Can’t also forget, showing tons of pictures of what their soldiers, vehicles and ships look like :P)

Land

Weapon Select Beats

Nexan Rifleer

"Observe the Nexan Rifleer. These units became Rifleers out of choice, rather than circumstance. Each one of them is trained in other specialisms and put themselves forward to selection for Action-Teams. They are polymaths and a squad can just as easily contain an interpreter as it can sapper. They are to be viewed as unpredictable and handled with extreme caution." - Recovered Enemy Battlefield Manual

Class: Nexan Rifleer
Hight: 7"
Weight: 210lbs"
Skin Colour: Temperature Dependent
Hair Colour: Genetically Modified by choice
Eye Colour: Genetically Modified by choice

Armour: Reactive Armour (White areas), Speed enhancing synth-muscle (Black Areas), Tactical Hud Overlay, Multiband Sat-phone. x4 Hybrid Thermal/Night lenses with range focussing.

Racial Ability: Blood Rush

Rafleers' Rifle

Superweapon: Jackdaw


Size: ???
Speed: ???
Weapons: ???

Tactical Dread-Armour "Watson"

Size: ???
Speed: ???
Weapons: ??? "Polarity"

Medium Tank "Linebacker"


Size: ???
Speed: ???
Weapons: ???

Air

Superweapon: Big M


Size: ???
Speed: ???
Weapons: ???
Crew: "Pilots" and "Pit Crew".

Air Superiority Reconnisance: "Dart"



Size: Small
Speed: ???
Weapons: ???

Orbital Assault Gunship: "Knock-Knock"


Size: Medium
Speed: ???
Weapons: ???

Orbital Drop Troops "Freerider"

Similar to the Nexan Rifleer in almost every way except employing special armor, these units are capable of entering atmosphere and dropping in on any enemy formations at high speed using their "Plank". By far one of the most free-spirited and daring of the Nexans, they are usually employed en-mass as line breaker units; quickly approaching and overwhelming enemy front lines. Due to their extreme speed, reflexes and number, most enemy vehicles cannot cope with them.

Size: Small
Speed: ???
Weapons: x2 Missiles of unknown design, various small arms.
Armour: Orbital Armour capable of entering the atmosphere; usually made as light construction as possible and features ceramic polymer alloy.

Racial Ability: Blood Rush
Special Ability: Strafe

Fleet

Size: ???
Strength: ???
Composition: ???

Nexan Void Core:

Covert

Often utilising miniaturized versions of battlefield technology Covert is one of the main Nexan "Houses", others being "Research Core" and "Void" and so on. Members of Nexan can switch freely between each of the houses and during warfare this may happen spontaneously. Members of covert usually genetically modify their hair blonde.

Racial Ability: Blood Rush
Special Ability: Shock

History: WIP

Orion Asunder (Space Opera NRP)

Ok i have an idea for my nation.

A fighting nation aboard a large nomadic armada.

They have a strict moral code of defending the weak.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

Prospector

Name: Fret Chappel
Species: Human (Earthican)
Appearance:



Augmentations: Fret has poor eyesight due to an injury sustained while he was in the pan Eurindian army. As such he has a cybernetic third eye implanted in his forehead which helps him to see and has all of the functionality of a smartphone of that time.
Magical affiliation: None developed yet.
Occupation: Prospector
Key skills: 1. Common Knowledge of War 2. Wilderness Survival 3. Technology
Backstory:

Fret was born to a family of 5 and was recruited out of school into the long range desert group. He saw action in the Himalayas and was present in battles between the Eurindian Technocracy and the Lunar Monarchy. The Lunar Monarchy having issued letters of marque that allowed the harassment and confiscation of goods and personnel from the Eurindian space ports and fleet. This state of affairs could not be allowed to continue.

The state of affairs that led to the creation of Eurindia was a period of techno-barbarism where warfare between rival cyber-enhanced humans vying for ownership or access to ever more advanced cyber technology and weaponry led to a complete collapse of the state. Out of this an extremely small group of enhanced humans formed the Eurindian Technocracy. During this period of unrest the Lunar colony reached ascendancy and formed a monarchy based on vast trading wealth from within the system.

Equipment:

Romer pattern rifleers rifle:

A solid projectile weapon given to line infantrymen of the Technocracy.

Stedholder pattern sidearm.

A backup weapon using solid projectiles and improved propellant.

Survival Bag.
A bag containing everything necessary to survive in the wilderness for weeks. Things included are an astronaut tent with warmth-conserving foil. Ration lamp to heat food via light. Miniature thorium "lifetime" battery of the Technocracy. Condensation collectors and poles. Improved aluminum boots. Sat-phone with backup parts. Oxygen scrubber canisters. Climbing ropes and tackle. Medi-gel. Ration foam. Maxi-fibre TM insulate clothing and bedding. Writing e-paper booklet. Knee pads. Hydrogen and Oxygen "tic-tacs". Prospectors pick and hand held diagnosticator. Cheap i-bay plastic astrolabe.

Music.

Music