Sorry guys, will get something up soon
vietmyke Member
STATUS: Holiday hiatus coming to a close, updates for all soon! 2 yrs ago
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- Old Guild Username: vietmyke
- Joined: 13 yrs ago
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2 yrs ago
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Holiday hiatus coming to a close, updates for all soon!
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2 yrs ago
Stop being passive aggressive. Just be aggressive.
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3 yrs ago
It is certainly not 'optimal', but it *is* doable, depending on what you want to do with it. You could go swords or valor bard and play them more like a warrior with some magical ability
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3 yrs ago
One might say your villain arc has begun. Embrace it.
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3 yrs ago
Man do I love watching the circus
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@LegionPothIX sorry if it seemed like I was nitpicking, I'm a stickler for military stuff
@LegionPothIX, technically the 'Commander, Air Group' (CAG) would outrank everyone on the Vitae short of the Admiral and maybe Colonel Anderson- so I doubt he'd bend or be so accepting of such casual orders. It has always been a point of contention between officers and enlisted. While Calhound has more experience, technically even Hawkins out ranks him. Though young'ns like Hawkins will most likely defer to a veteran enlisted man's authority when push comes to shove.
The CAG would most likely appreciate Calhound's technical expertise and dispatch crew to do as he recommends though.
Also also, the T-22s the strike pilots fly don't have shields... So I dunno if that puts a damper on Calhound's plans, or if the pilots just need to be careful. And damn you! Taking my dogfight away from me lolol
The CAG would most likely appreciate Calhound's technical expertise and dispatch crew to do as he recommends though.
Also also, the T-22s the strike pilots fly don't have shields... So I dunno if that puts a damper on Calhound's plans, or if the pilots just need to be careful. And damn you! Taking my dogfight away from me lolol
Aye boss, I'm still here as well
Elijah sat and listened calmly as Kaidan explained what they were doing here, his eyes occasionally flitting around the room to take stock in who else they had reigned in with him. Two of them were human, one was a dwarf. Dwarves, Elijah had no particular issue with- it was true, their races had long standing animosity with each other, but Elijah had rarely interacted with dwarves outside of his experiences in the military academy, and everyone in the academy held themselves with some sort of professionalism. He had no particular love for them, but no hate for them either.
Of the humans, the one who introduced himself as Casimir was the least notable- perhaps out of design. He wore plain clothes, spoke in a somewhat bright demeanor, and appeared for all intents and purposes, completely forgettable. In this time and age- and with this particular profession however, being forgettable was by no means a bad thing. It meant that they were harder to pick out from the crowd, and thus, survived longer.
The last human dressed like a mechanic and had with him a large bag of tools, though Elijah didn't doubt for one second that the tools in his bag were not the same tool used for vehicle repair. He wore a black longcoat, and though it had seen years of use, Elijah could spy frayed stitching where a patch used to be sewn. He very much appeared to be additional muscle to their operation, though Elijah could detect a hidden craftiness to the man's eyes.
Kaidan explained to them their task- to free Leon Powell, notable Tyberian public figure and well loved by the general populace. Such a man would serve as an ideal figurehead for their operation, and would serve to further rally the distraught Tyberians to their cause. Would it be enough to stop the might of the Asgardian military? That was a question for the future. With little more than the orders to get to know each other, Kaidan left, leaving Oscar to oversee the four operatives they had brought together.
Elijah leveled Oscar a look, to which Oscar sighed and nodded apologetically, both of them preferred dealing with regular rank-and-file men with no outstanding qualities and controllable personalities, but in a revolution, they took what they could get. Elijah wasn't really in the position to complain either- after all, he had signed up for this.
"Well, you heard the man, let's get acquainted. Though before I get to introducing myself, I think everyone, myself included, who is currently out of the loop here would like to know what exactly a young man with features I cannot help but notice resemble those of a now even more well-known General and occupier, is here?"
At this, Elijah leveled another look at Oscar, to which Oscar gave a confused shrug. The group- or at least the man Eadoin, must have been relatively new. Elijah turned to the man and nodded.
"Yes," he replied in an even, calm voice. "My name is Elijah Quaid, son of Ephraim Quaid, High General of the Asgardian 5th Legion; tactician and strategist for the Tyberian Revolution. Kaidan takes care of the overall strategy and direction of the resistance, while Oscar and myself manage day to day combat tactics and strategy."
"Now that my role has been established, it should be no surprise that I am quite intrigued to know what you bring to the table, Mr. Kyros. You carry yourself with a confidence that could only be gained from a life behind a trigger, however I gather you're more than some Tyberian militiaman with dreams of grandeur or an above average survival rate- because let's face it, who are we kidding?"
Elijah had no particular love for the Tyberian militia- they had put off fighting off the Asgardians until the very last minute, and when they finally decided to make a stand against Asgard, the Asgardians were already upon them, and they were quickly routed and disarmed. While a few found their way into the Tyberian revolutionaries- such as Oscar, the vast majority of them were content to have admitted surrender and to even march alongside Asgard soldiers as an auxiliary force to ensure 'peace and safety' within the city.
"No Mr. Kyros, you have the look of someone more... rugged. Mercenary company perhaps?"
Of the humans, the one who introduced himself as Casimir was the least notable- perhaps out of design. He wore plain clothes, spoke in a somewhat bright demeanor, and appeared for all intents and purposes, completely forgettable. In this time and age- and with this particular profession however, being forgettable was by no means a bad thing. It meant that they were harder to pick out from the crowd, and thus, survived longer.
The last human dressed like a mechanic and had with him a large bag of tools, though Elijah didn't doubt for one second that the tools in his bag were not the same tool used for vehicle repair. He wore a black longcoat, and though it had seen years of use, Elijah could spy frayed stitching where a patch used to be sewn. He very much appeared to be additional muscle to their operation, though Elijah could detect a hidden craftiness to the man's eyes.
Kaidan explained to them their task- to free Leon Powell, notable Tyberian public figure and well loved by the general populace. Such a man would serve as an ideal figurehead for their operation, and would serve to further rally the distraught Tyberians to their cause. Would it be enough to stop the might of the Asgardian military? That was a question for the future. With little more than the orders to get to know each other, Kaidan left, leaving Oscar to oversee the four operatives they had brought together.
Elijah leveled Oscar a look, to which Oscar sighed and nodded apologetically, both of them preferred dealing with regular rank-and-file men with no outstanding qualities and controllable personalities, but in a revolution, they took what they could get. Elijah wasn't really in the position to complain either- after all, he had signed up for this.
"Well, you heard the man, let's get acquainted. Though before I get to introducing myself, I think everyone, myself included, who is currently out of the loop here would like to know what exactly a young man with features I cannot help but notice resemble those of a now even more well-known General and occupier, is here?"
At this, Elijah leveled another look at Oscar, to which Oscar gave a confused shrug. The group- or at least the man Eadoin, must have been relatively new. Elijah turned to the man and nodded.
"Yes," he replied in an even, calm voice. "My name is Elijah Quaid, son of Ephraim Quaid, High General of the Asgardian 5th Legion; tactician and strategist for the Tyberian Revolution. Kaidan takes care of the overall strategy and direction of the resistance, while Oscar and myself manage day to day combat tactics and strategy."
"Now that my role has been established, it should be no surprise that I am quite intrigued to know what you bring to the table, Mr. Kyros. You carry yourself with a confidence that could only be gained from a life behind a trigger, however I gather you're more than some Tyberian militiaman with dreams of grandeur or an above average survival rate- because let's face it, who are we kidding?"
Elijah had no particular love for the Tyberian militia- they had put off fighting off the Asgardians until the very last minute, and when they finally decided to make a stand against Asgard, the Asgardians were already upon them, and they were quickly routed and disarmed. While a few found their way into the Tyberian revolutionaries- such as Oscar, the vast majority of them were content to have admitted surrender and to even march alongside Asgard soldiers as an auxiliary force to ensure 'peace and safety' within the city.
"No Mr. Kyros, you have the look of someone more... rugged. Mercenary company perhaps?"
^^ @Patient 43Delta, boom is implying that you shouldn't post in the character section unless the post is a character sheet, and you shouldn't post in the character tab without permission from the thread GM
Sara slumped in the seat of her fighter, listening to the chatter and roar around them, and passing by the time sharing stories with her the other pilots of her squadron. Sure they were a single unit, but they had been through vastly different circumstances before being assigned to the Vitae. For instance, while Loch, like Sara was an Earth-raised Armani, Crowly was a martian-borne and refused to undertake any of the augments that the other pilots had. Thomas, was every bit the adventurous Armani spirit, and Lin used to be part of an acting troupe.
Suddenly, all the lights shut off and were replaced by the dim red of the Hangar's emergency lights, supplemented by the headlamps of various technicians and engineers. The entire hangar was silent and still for a single moment before quickly springing back into action. Power had just been diverted from their lights to most likely something that needed it more, which meant something was going down. Sara pushed open her cockpit and stood up, her helmet's headlight automatically activating to illuminate the space in front of her.
"What the hell is going on?" Sara shouted, as a team of techs sprinted to her fighter, mechanical dollys loaded with ordinance following them. While there were dedicated stations for changing out munitions in the hangar, when the alert-5 fighters were in the launch bays, any chance in ordinance was brought to them and changed out by hand.
"Devastators!" Replied her crew chief, grunting as he helped some of the techs heft one of the heavy trebuchet missiles. "We're switching out the Trebuchet missiles for Serpent missile pods."
"What the hell are Serpent missiles going to do against Devastators?" Sara grumbled as she sat back down in her seat. The crew chief didn't have to bother answering her, almost as if on cue, Sara's CAG came on the comms.
"Grave Robbers," barked the gruff commander's voice, "Direct orders from the bridge to scramble a squadron outfitted with anti-fighter weapons. We have reports of small Devastator signals exiting a massive Devastator that has jumped in over Earth. Command has concluded that these must be some sort of fighter-type Devastator."
"Roger that," Sara replied as she sat back down in her seat, watching her smart-display change as her 4 of her 6 trebuchet missiles were replaced with Serpent missile pods- each pod sporting 5 small, but potent missiles- a single one capable of critically disabling a T-22 fighter. Her display read 20 Serpent missiles and 2 Trebuchets, and her squadron mates were likely being fitted out the same way. Noises from the crews in the hangar suggested that the Barracudas squadron on the other side of the hangar, and several other squadrons were being outfitted in similar fashion too.
"Thats a lot of Serpent missiles," Sara noted with a low whistle, "Sure we got enough?" she remarked offhandedly to the rest of her squadron.
"No, I don't think we do." the CAG replied- Sara had forgotten to close off the comm channel, allowing the CAG to throw out his opinion. It didn't make Sara feel any better. They must really be in some shit.
"Alright Sara, you're good to go." Called her crew chief through his mic as he began sprinting out of the catapult, other engineers in tow. "Good hunting, Hawkins."
Around her, the catapult's blast shield lifted up, and the launch catapult shut itself off from the rest of the ship and began depressurizing. The launch doors opened, revealing to Sara the blackness of the deep empty. Now, the only sources of color and life within view were the display monitors, and her squadmate's bio-signs quietly blinking in the corner of her vision. The catapult's runway floor lit up, revealing to her the path, and the launch display rapidly cleared her.
"Sara Hawkins, launching." Sara reported as she pushed her throttle stick forward and her fighter blasted out of the bay, the speed of her ship forcing her head into the back of her headrest.
The view was incredible. Spectacular and terrifying at the same time. The void of space that surrounded their home planet of Earth was now filled with dozens upon dozens of Devastators. Swarms of angry red dots flew towards them, all while their mothership, a Devastator as big as an Ark wreaked havoc on the ground. On the Vitae's side a spread out line of Arks fled towards their destination, tiny flecks of blue lights- the thrusters of Ark's aerospace fighters, deployed from their motherships and moved to defend. A swarm of red dots was rapidly approaching the Destiny to the Vitae's rear, and the Destiny had deployed what looked like all of their fighter wings to combat them. The Vitae had launched just the Grave Robbers and the Barracudas, holding the rest in reserve. It was a conservative play, one that Sara understood, if not particularly liked.
"Hawkins, 7th Grave Robbers, moving into defensive formation." Sara reported to the bridge, her counterpart in the Barracudas replied in a similar fashion.
Suddenly, all the lights shut off and were replaced by the dim red of the Hangar's emergency lights, supplemented by the headlamps of various technicians and engineers. The entire hangar was silent and still for a single moment before quickly springing back into action. Power had just been diverted from their lights to most likely something that needed it more, which meant something was going down. Sara pushed open her cockpit and stood up, her helmet's headlight automatically activating to illuminate the space in front of her.
"What the hell is going on?" Sara shouted, as a team of techs sprinted to her fighter, mechanical dollys loaded with ordinance following them. While there were dedicated stations for changing out munitions in the hangar, when the alert-5 fighters were in the launch bays, any chance in ordinance was brought to them and changed out by hand.
"Devastators!" Replied her crew chief, grunting as he helped some of the techs heft one of the heavy trebuchet missiles. "We're switching out the Trebuchet missiles for Serpent missile pods."
"What the hell are Serpent missiles going to do against Devastators?" Sara grumbled as she sat back down in her seat. The crew chief didn't have to bother answering her, almost as if on cue, Sara's CAG came on the comms.
"Grave Robbers," barked the gruff commander's voice, "Direct orders from the bridge to scramble a squadron outfitted with anti-fighter weapons. We have reports of small Devastator signals exiting a massive Devastator that has jumped in over Earth. Command has concluded that these must be some sort of fighter-type Devastator."
"Roger that," Sara replied as she sat back down in her seat, watching her smart-display change as her 4 of her 6 trebuchet missiles were replaced with Serpent missile pods- each pod sporting 5 small, but potent missiles- a single one capable of critically disabling a T-22 fighter. Her display read 20 Serpent missiles and 2 Trebuchets, and her squadron mates were likely being fitted out the same way. Noises from the crews in the hangar suggested that the Barracudas squadron on the other side of the hangar, and several other squadrons were being outfitted in similar fashion too.
"Thats a lot of Serpent missiles," Sara noted with a low whistle, "Sure we got enough?" she remarked offhandedly to the rest of her squadron.
"No, I don't think we do." the CAG replied- Sara had forgotten to close off the comm channel, allowing the CAG to throw out his opinion. It didn't make Sara feel any better. They must really be in some shit.
"Alright Sara, you're good to go." Called her crew chief through his mic as he began sprinting out of the catapult, other engineers in tow. "Good hunting, Hawkins."
Around her, the catapult's blast shield lifted up, and the launch catapult shut itself off from the rest of the ship and began depressurizing. The launch doors opened, revealing to Sara the blackness of the deep empty. Now, the only sources of color and life within view were the display monitors, and her squadmate's bio-signs quietly blinking in the corner of her vision. The catapult's runway floor lit up, revealing to her the path, and the launch display rapidly cleared her.
"Sara Hawkins, launching." Sara reported as she pushed her throttle stick forward and her fighter blasted out of the bay, the speed of her ship forcing her head into the back of her headrest.
The view was incredible. Spectacular and terrifying at the same time. The void of space that surrounded their home planet of Earth was now filled with dozens upon dozens of Devastators. Swarms of angry red dots flew towards them, all while their mothership, a Devastator as big as an Ark wreaked havoc on the ground. On the Vitae's side a spread out line of Arks fled towards their destination, tiny flecks of blue lights- the thrusters of Ark's aerospace fighters, deployed from their motherships and moved to defend. A swarm of red dots was rapidly approaching the Destiny to the Vitae's rear, and the Destiny had deployed what looked like all of their fighter wings to combat them. The Vitae had launched just the Grave Robbers and the Barracudas, holding the rest in reserve. It was a conservative play, one that Sara understood, if not particularly liked.
"Hawkins, 7th Grave Robbers, moving into defensive formation." Sara reported to the bridge, her counterpart in the Barracudas replied in a similar fashion.
Oh yeah, i forgot to mention, friend and squadron leader hex is taking an extended hiatus to this rp and rping in general due to irl issues.
As such, his character, Trapp will be NPC'd until further notice.
As such, his character, Trapp will be NPC'd until further notice.
Just waitng on people to do the things, and also toying with the idea of a new iteration of Falling Skies from the Coalition perspective
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