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Futuristic [DISCONTINUED] Dies Irae: Astral Fulcrum
Steve Jobs
Died of ligma
Pilgrim59
Ardent Advocate of the Ausrufung
1-2
Pilgrim59
Ardent Advocate of the Ausrufung
Pilgrim59
Ardent Advocate of the Ausrufung
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Pilgrim59
Ardent Advocate of the Ausrufung
Last edited:
Pilgrim59
Ardent Advocate of the Ausrufung
Pilgrim59
Ardent Advocate of the Ausrufung
Pilgrim59
Ardent Advocate of the Ausrufung
Last edited:
Pilgrim59
Ardent Advocate of the Ausrufung
Last edited:
ERode
In The Mirror
Location: Lunar Bay Airspace, Velika Prime
Interactions:
RedArmyShogun
FiveElemental
LostHaven
Steve Jobs
People died. Mostly, unjustly. Loxley, the good doctor, was cruel to deny that blue-blooded brat an opportunity to collect upon the blood debt. Certainly, he had given Saimos the opportunity to do so, being one of the cadets present that hadn't moved an inch when the order was given to restrain one of their own, but, alas, twas cold calculation at play once more. Pathetic, all around. Felix's corpse, left for swine or fire. Saimos's wrath, turned to nightmares that bagged his eyes. A storm brewed gently, resting upon the tip of an untested blade.
A fruit grown too ripe was liable to splatter against the earth before it was harvested.
...
"Scimitar 1 to Scimitar Squadron." Rel-Taren's voice sounded downright cheery amidst the brewing violence, but then again, compared to the dour "good soldiers" that he was tasked with leading, perhaps he made an effort to do so. It'd otherwise be an atmosphere most dreadful, after all, stuck between Liane, Muris, and Sarina. Ah, if only he had been slotted in Warhammer or Cleaver instead, with the sociable and the reckless. "We'll bolster up close-range defenses for the other squadrons. Pursuance, Ein Sol, take it easy; you'll be doing more than your share of the work once we go urban. Myrmidon, same as always. Assist with Grand Caster's readings and plot a good path for my Pylons."
Beyond his flesh, the machine reciprocated the movement of his limbs, mechanical tail swishing back and for with a warrior's anticipation, as Canon cycled into Suppression Mode, the weapon blooming like a flower that promised and invited death. But, of course, before doing the minimum amount of work expected of him, Rel-Taren couldn't resist.
"Ah, Scimitar 1 to Warhammer 1. Sabers've found a Centurion. Better quarry than wasting the 'God Slayer' on some bees, no?"
TheRealAngeloftheStorm
Beyond the Red Gate
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RedArmyShogun
Runs with Axes
SARINA R. KIRST
Status: Active Duty
Location: Lunar Bay Airspace, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM
Interaction:
ERode
FiveElemental
LostHaven
Pilgrim59
Mobius Armaments: 75mm Anti-Tank Rifle - 30mm Rotary Cannon
~~~~
The past several days, well, far longer than that, had been absurd, painful, allies lost or flunked out, grueling flights and coming to terms with the modifications she had received. For the first several days her "gift" was running wild, her body sore, tense, tired. As Days became weeks it was as if nothing had happened. Then there was the traitorous scum that brought an inglorious end to Felix Luminov, that robbed the routine of its meaning, a pointless death that could have taken them all. How many great pilots had died from such, or as passengers on transports? Far too many. Then there was poor Saimos, his anger was righteous. The Cenerithian sympathized with him, but when the order was given, a brief look of conflicted confusion played out across her face, a hesitancy, before she carried out the task of grabbing him with some of the rest.
In the aftermath of that and the nightmares of Saimos that had become the scuttle bucket of the base, she had taken to avoiding him when and where able, mostly as she did not know what to do with this situation, survival, orders, piloting, those were much more simple to deal with, and so she did, retreating to the controls of the MOPIT. Hopefully some of the more cheerful ones could help him. She herself had no nightmares of the event and maybe that was why someone in R&D was having a laugh at her expense.
First her unit was blue, not too troubling in and of itself if not for it being one of the Kingdom, but the name Myrmidon was a bit much as it was also a name for the most common deployed enemy type of drone. At least there was a good chance enemy WACO would pick up the same tag and be met with the same confusion. She would just have to earn enough kills that the enemy changed name or where she became and ACE worthy of the attention of the name. To wear it as a mockery and taunt to the Sorentine Armed Forces.
Or die trying.
Still, she did not expect it to be so soon, so close and so sudden she would be called to battle with the scramble klaxon. While odd things had been going on, that didn't mean a sudden full-scale incursion was about to take place. Or was it something far larger? The briefing was quick and dirty with her having more questions than not, those would seemingly have to wait as the emergency scramble went into the next phase.
Still in a matter of time and with the mission req, she requested two gunnery weapons, a 75 AT 'Rifle' and a 30mm Rotary Cannon, checking the ammo and technical readouts, everything seemed to be in order as the technomagic marvel came to life, joining the rest on the airfield it seemed they would have a ride aboard an airship, too bad there wouldn't be time to do more than sit in the cockpit. And even that was quickly over with as they were in the sky without the taxi. She would have liked to thank them, but now was neither time or place, instead once her Myrmidon was clear, she extended her weapons a little and waved back and forth, a slight vertical movement in the common way of saying hello and goodbye by fixed wing pilots, or to offer salutes.
Soon they were in Contact with Grand Caster and the scopes were overwhelmed, never mind the other engagements, the harbor on fire, the fighters doing their best and AA batteries engaging their own, her mind becoming a beehive of activity as her abilities spread out, putting a pilot helmet on, her focus was on censors and the optical viewscreens of the Myrmidon. "Hmm..."
Hearing the commands from Rel-Taren, she smirked a little under the helmet, he was so at odds with the rest of his flight, even herself. Still, command likely had its reasons.
"Roger that Scimitar 1, Scimitar 2 updating flight data-link, connecting to Grand Caster."
Given the focus of herself and machine, Sarina went about carrying out her commands. "Scimitar 2 to Grand Caster Actual, unit Myrmidon, I'll be aiding the flight with your and my own sensor readings, don't be afraid to borrow my brain for course and target plotting. Let's just say it's a gift...
Scimitar 2 to Scimitar 1, painting the Centurion for any interested flights. Staying on your wing, will engage drones with my 30 when enemy is within range. Over."
Hoping the WACO officer got what she meant, she immediately starts plotting a movement route in realspace, rapidly inputting commands with one hand while the other stayed on controls. As a bonus to others within the Squadron, the Centurion would be illuminated amidst the clutter of drones, a targeting lock in essence to hone their one locks in upon.
LostHaven
Loser's queue is real and it's coming for you.
Liane D. Venhaus
In the end, she still became what her maker wished for her to never become.
“Mortality is a fleeting, ephemeral thing. Ultimately, it is inevitable, so we must shed no tears for their passing, but remember only that they once lived.”
Thusly, she shed no tears for Felix’s death. No grief, no parting words. And so, in midst the nobleman’s funeral, whilst many shed tears of melancholy and others seethed with a fiery rage that could only be quenched in blood shed in vengeance, Liane remained ever distant, indifferent, uncaring. She did not have enough tears for every life lost. Or would it have been more apt to say that she already had none left? If they hadn't already before, surely now more than a few of her fellows would put her nature in question. How could this seemingly pure-blooded Velikan be so utterly unfazed by the death of a comrade? So much so that mere minutes after the funeral ceremony, she would go on acting as if he had never existed to begin with?
It didn't matter. So long as they didn't ask, she had no obligation to addressing their concerns.
"Understood."
A single word was uttered through the communication channel from Ein Sof to the rest of Scimitar, Liane's soft monotone voice unbefitting of the hulking black knight she piloted. It wasn't strange that Ein Sof wouldn't be of much assistance when it came to picking off drones in the air. Ein Sof's specialty was 'unconventional', to say the least; while Liane's school of magic was bizarre enough as is, her 'anti-magic' that invoked a deep unsettlement seeming more akin to a perversion, a defilement of mana rather than an application of it, Ein Sof's unique functionality were stranger still. Its abilities lay primarily in interfering with 'magic' and induce severe malfunctions in technology operating on mana, and its BoA Resonance appeared to be indiscriminate, save for Ein Sof itself. Few would forget its first test run, that almost gave the A.I.C.A. its own mass blackout to worry about.
And, while mass area of denial seemed useful enough, its effects so far would be most devastating to none other than M.O.B.I.U.S. pilots who shared a deep aetherial bond with their warframes. Why would of all people, the Armed Forces of Farbania have a need for a frame so suited to ripping apart a M.O.B.I.U.S. and its pilot?
Regardless, Ein Sof and its pilot have proven well enough in their combat simulations that they could butcher an opposing Myrmidon well enough.
"Ein Sof. Will standby until engaging with ground forces."
Lunar Bay Airspace, Velika Prime | "Scimitar 4 on standby."
ARMAMENTS: 40MM GRENADE LAUNCHERS // [EMP]
His abrupt and unfortunate demise came of little surprise to the homunculus. Burying the corpse of a comrade who had had ate, drank, fought and laughed with only the night prior was all too common – a tragedy, for sure – but a common occurrence regardless. It would have been naïve to expect anything different solely for the fact that they were at the A.I.C.A. rather than the battlefield. In the end, they were still tools made for war.ARMAMENTS: 40MM GRENADE LAUNCHERS // [EMP]
In the end, she still became what her maker wished for her to never become.
“Mortality is a fleeting, ephemeral thing. Ultimately, it is inevitable, so we must shed no tears for their passing, but remember only that they once lived.”
Thusly, she shed no tears for Felix’s death. No grief, no parting words. And so, in midst the nobleman’s funeral, whilst many shed tears of melancholy and others seethed with a fiery rage that could only be quenched in blood shed in vengeance, Liane remained ever distant, indifferent, uncaring. She did not have enough tears for every life lost. Or would it have been more apt to say that she already had none left? If they hadn't already before, surely now more than a few of her fellows would put her nature in question. How could this seemingly pure-blooded Velikan be so utterly unfazed by the death of a comrade? So much so that mere minutes after the funeral ceremony, she would go on acting as if he had never existed to begin with?
It didn't matter. So long as they didn't ask, she had no obligation to addressing their concerns.
"Understood."
A single word was uttered through the communication channel from Ein Sof to the rest of Scimitar, Liane's soft monotone voice unbefitting of the hulking black knight she piloted. It wasn't strange that Ein Sof wouldn't be of much assistance when it came to picking off drones in the air. Ein Sof's specialty was 'unconventional', to say the least; while Liane's school of magic was bizarre enough as is, her 'anti-magic' that invoked a deep unsettlement seeming more akin to a perversion, a defilement of mana rather than an application of it, Ein Sof's unique functionality were stranger still. Its abilities lay primarily in interfering with 'magic' and induce severe malfunctions in technology operating on mana, and its BoA Resonance appeared to be indiscriminate, save for Ein Sof itself. Few would forget its first test run, that almost gave the A.I.C.A. its own mass blackout to worry about.
And, while mass area of denial seemed useful enough, its effects so far would be most devastating to none other than M.O.B.I.U.S. pilots who shared a deep aetherial bond with their warframes. Why would of all people, the Armed Forces of Farbania have a need for a frame so suited to ripping apart a M.O.B.I.U.S. and its pilot?
Regardless, Ein Sof and its pilot have proven well enough in their combat simulations that they could butcher an opposing Myrmidon well enough.
"Ein Sof. Will standby until engaging with ground forces."
ThatWhichShouldBe
Sleeper of Endless Eons Whence Death May Die
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Worthlessplebian
Worthless pleb
Steve Jobs
Died of ligma
Last edited:
Huntertabbysandshark3
The lord of randomness and the warp
STATUS:
Active Duty
LOCATION:
Lunar Bay Airspace, Velika Prime
KARIKO MORINRA
with that, she'd head toward her own MOBIUS unit. Tetrax, she'd been with that old machine for a while, so unlike the new blood, she was used to the strange feelings of these huge metal machines. Tetrax was more akin to an extension of herself.. admittedly without hands but hey you can't win it all hey? once inside the cockpit, she'd flex her "arms" the large guns on there buzzing to life alongside all the auxiliary systems as those flashed across her eyes all systems green they were good to go. the metal monster rumbled to life becoming truly alive rather than just an effigy of cold steel. that would launch through the air following the others in the Warhammer unit. Warhammer 2 was a bit flashy for her liking by oh well there was always a need for someone taking the brunt of the fire. "this is Warhammer 4, 1 2 3 I hope you don't all intend to try and win any medal stick together and we will all make it out alive got it?" she'd say in a dry voice tone of someone who'd done this all before, there was always a glory hound, and it seemed today was no exception hopefully there antics didn't get anyone else killed.
Pilgrim59
Ardent Advocate of the Ausrufung
ERode
In The Mirror
Location: Lunar Bay Airspace, Velika Prime
Interactions:
RedArmyShogun
FiveElemental
LostHaven
Steve Jobs
Rel-Taren let out a low whistle to accompany the thrumming of his Canon, its Suppression Mode releasing a deluge of mana into the atmosphere. Of all the SP Weapons built for this generation of MOBIUS, Canyon’s Canon was one of the only that was expressly designed for ranged combat, and certainly the one that boasted the greatest rate of fire. Enemies scattered and broken already by the efforts of the previous squads, the dragon was free to release its flames, scouring the skies of those that dared encroach upon its domain.
Only scraps remained of their vicinity, and the Xihu’tein let out a bark within his cockpit. Such a pleasant sensation, wrecking havoc with the press of a trigger. T’was like the first time they had captured a mounted minigun. He had bisected the soldiers positioned there, seized their controls, and turned that turret upon their own, turning the enemy into crimson blooms. Ah, what a pleasant sight it had been!
Flames bloomed here, in lieu of blood, and Scimitar 1 sent out the order to descend, shooting one last remark to Odessa as he did.
“Ogre beat you to your glory, eh? Next time, Warhammer 1.”
Well, next time would be a race to see who could reclaim the batteries first. Which Rel-Taren was confident that Scimitar Squad would be able to win. Perhaps Pursuance being swapped out with Wraith would have allowed for a swifter advance, but regardless, it was Scimitar Squad, after all, who could most effectively opt for run-and-gun squad tactics. The four MOBIUS landed upon the base of Hermit’s Cliff, their combined mass and swift descent enough to send out a shockwave that would daze, if not completely destroy, any nearby infantry.
“Ein Sol, front with Myrmidon support. Pursuance, stay back and watch our rear. We advance at 80% speed, on my mark.”
From the base of the cliff, he was afforded visuals on the entire side, after all. Myrmidon’s assistance and marking enabled him to pinpoint defensive positions dug out by the Sorenti infantry; the Wayfinders he set ensured that each mana-beam he released would find those targets. And, with his Recursive Mark?
The dragon’s maw open.
The deluge descended, branching outwards like the roots of a tree to strike upon the cliff’s slope. Explosions saturated the hidden infantry, before the secondary aftershocks rocked the landscape itself, burying or destroying any makeshift fortifications that survived the first wave. How satisfying it was! Being paid to kill Sorenti soldiers and destroy Farbanian land!
“Scimitar Squad.” Canyon’s Canon shrunk, the flower petals closing into a shy bud as it swapped from Suppression to Destruction Mode. “Advance and enjoy.”
Pity the ARLA units who’d have to make their way through the wake of these Titans, really.
LostHaven
Loser's queue is real and it's coming for you.
Liane D. Venhaus
At Rel-Taren's command, Ein Sof spurs into action. And advance it did, though whether or not Ein Sof and its pilot 'enjoyed' the bloodbath that would follow was an entirely different debate on its own. "Instructions received," a quick, calm reply comes from Ein Sof as it spares not a moment to charge into the fray.
The first shot from Canyon carpets the cliff's base with explosions, brilliant fireworks that burned away the foes that lay hidden in ambush. The following shockwave shakes the earth to its foundation, ensuring that no defenses would survive. In the meantime, under the veil of dust and debris kicked up by Canyon's fire, Ein Sof had begun its rapid advance to scale the cliff, intent on carving a bloody warpath toward their target - the anti-air battery the Sorentine forces had captured, and were currently in the process of dismantling.
As the pitch-black knight makes its advance, the hulking figure is seen to reach into its left forearm, whose armor plating begins to fold, revealing a compartment in which what appears to be a bladeless hilt is stored. As Ein Sof grips the hilt, it unfolds outward, revealing a guard of impressive wingspan. With a flash, the weapon ignites, an enormous holoblade extending outward, reaching a length even greater than Ein Sof's height.
Ein Sof bursts out from under the cover of dust and rubble, coated head-to-toe in an indescribable aura of deep dread and terror; the cold aura of a grim reaper, crowned with death. What defensive barricades the Sorentine were able to erect in between their warpath and the battery were of little effect as Ein Sof charges through the first one of many. With but a single, mighty swing of the first defensive line of many falls. Footsoldiers, utterly disoriented or frozen in place by the bottomless abyss of dread that seemed to emanate from the warframe. The robotic gunmen, upon which Ein Sof's dreadful aura seemed to have little effect upon could do little to halt the hulking knight's charge.
One swing.
One wide, horizontal swing was all Ein Sof had to give. The holoblade emits a terrible noise, akin to a low-pitched wailing as its mana-powered blade slices through the air itself. What followed was a tidal wave of blood, dismembered bodies and broken machinery as a residual shockwave throws the remains of Ein Sof's swift massacre in all directions. It was an inelegant dance, unbefitting of a swordsman. No dignity nor a knight's honor in its swings, only the purposefulness of a soldier- or perhaps, that of a butcher.
It doesn't halt.
With a calm, practiced and steadfast brutality, Ein Sof carved a path with the bodies of Sorentine soldiers as it approaches its target, cloaked in its aura of dread. A low-pitched static begins to emit from Ein Sof, a twisted requiem for the fallen before its blade. It begins to slow as it approaches the cliff's peak, letting its aura seep in and saturate the very air itself, each step forward meant to shatter the foe's spirit before their bodies.
"Ein Sof. Approaching the objective."
Lunar Bay Airspace, Velika Prime | "Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine."
ARMAMENTS: 40MM GRENADE LAUNCHERS // [EMP]
ARMAMENTS: 40MM GRENADE LAUNCHERS // [EMP]
At Rel-Taren's command, Ein Sof spurs into action. And advance it did, though whether or not Ein Sof and its pilot 'enjoyed' the bloodbath that would follow was an entirely different debate on its own. "Instructions received," a quick, calm reply comes from Ein Sof as it spares not a moment to charge into the fray.
The first shot from Canyon carpets the cliff's base with explosions, brilliant fireworks that burned away the foes that lay hidden in ambush. The following shockwave shakes the earth to its foundation, ensuring that no defenses would survive. In the meantime, under the veil of dust and debris kicked up by Canyon's fire, Ein Sof had begun its rapid advance to scale the cliff, intent on carving a bloody warpath toward their target - the anti-air battery the Sorentine forces had captured, and were currently in the process of dismantling.
As the pitch-black knight makes its advance, the hulking figure is seen to reach into its left forearm, whose armor plating begins to fold, revealing a compartment in which what appears to be a bladeless hilt is stored. As Ein Sof grips the hilt, it unfolds outward, revealing a guard of impressive wingspan. With a flash, the weapon ignites, an enormous holoblade extending outward, reaching a length even greater than Ein Sof's height.
Ein Sof bursts out from under the cover of dust and rubble, coated head-to-toe in an indescribable aura of deep dread and terror; the cold aura of a grim reaper, crowned with death. What defensive barricades the Sorentine were able to erect in between their warpath and the battery were of little effect as Ein Sof charges through the first one of many. With but a single, mighty swing of the first defensive line of many falls. Footsoldiers, utterly disoriented or frozen in place by the bottomless abyss of dread that seemed to emanate from the warframe. The robotic gunmen, upon which Ein Sof's dreadful aura seemed to have little effect upon could do little to halt the hulking knight's charge.
One swing.
One wide, horizontal swing was all Ein Sof had to give. The holoblade emits a terrible noise, akin to a low-pitched wailing as its mana-powered blade slices through the air itself. What followed was a tidal wave of blood, dismembered bodies and broken machinery as a residual shockwave throws the remains of Ein Sof's swift massacre in all directions. It was an inelegant dance, unbefitting of a swordsman. No dignity nor a knight's honor in its swings, only the purposefulness of a soldier- or perhaps, that of a butcher.
It doesn't halt.
With a calm, practiced and steadfast brutality, Ein Sof carved a path with the bodies of Sorentine soldiers as it approaches its target, cloaked in its aura of dread. A low-pitched static begins to emit from Ein Sof, a twisted requiem for the fallen before its blade. It begins to slow as it approaches the cliff's peak, letting its aura seep in and saturate the very air itself, each step forward meant to shatter the foe's spirit before their bodies.
"Ein Sof. Approaching the objective."
ThatWhichShouldBe
Sleeper of Endless Eons Whence Death May Die
RedArmyShogun
Runs with Axes
SARINA R. KIRST
Status: Active Duty
Location: Lunar Bay Airspace, Velika Prime, FABELIKA PRAETORI SYSTEM
Interaction:
ERode
FiveElemental
LostHaven
Pilgrim59
Mobius Armaments: 75mm Anti-Tank Rifle - 30mm Rotary Cannon
~~~~
Snorting a little in amusement at Grand Casters shop talk, she grins from beneath her helmet visor. "Depends on the Regulations, 16 is Legal to drink on Cenerith, I cannot speak for an 18 year-old on the capital... Either way, targets to track Grand Caster." She said with a chuckle before turning to face the controls, ignoring the brief encouragement of Rel-Taren. Over the next few minutes Sarina busied herself engaging and plotting the next threads in tandem with Grand Chaser. Following Scimitar Flight she was able to take part in the engagement for a brief instance, using her high caliber and automatic weapons to engage the drones, she even found herself in this new machine quickly meeting and exceeding Ace in this one engagement, though killing drones wasn't normally too much to write home about....
Soon game in more orders that they would be going to ground. "Scimitar 2 to Grand Caster, everything up above is in your systems only for now, heading groundside. Good luck."
With that said, it seemed her teammates were thoroughly taken care of Sorenti emplacements, what little there were., now she found herself with the bit of the job she wasn't jumping for. 30mm was just too much and the smarter me, engineers and officers likely, were inside. They would do all the could to disrupt and destroy the gun from the inside, while her flight leader seem all too happy to be firing on the assets of both types. And the emotionless girl was cutting a swath of men like blades of grass to a lawnmower. Being desensitized to the gore of the situation, but not the cruelty of it.
Noting a man running inside with a charge, The Myrmidon was halted, as she knelt down, stated her intentions after blasting what external sites still showed life. "Scimitar 2, proceeding with mission to take back the Battery, send another when you can, two should be enough, though leave another two watching our rides... Going in!"
With that Sarin ran inside with her rifle/shotgun combo rifle and started to make the most of her medically gifted enhancements, this time with more ammo. Reaching her first Sorenti soldier with a detonation trigger in his hands, she took aim and realized she wasn't hunting beasts or animals in the homeland, this was more dangerous, but just another target to fire at, scoring a solid hit, she followed with two more, kicked away the charge and then pocked him a few times to ensure he was dead, a twinge of sadness, but nothing to stop her.
More killing was to be done and she had no reason to fill sorry for the Sorenti here now, in the distance were two more as her DMR upper half swung up to meet them.
"Enemy engaged, working to clear."
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Soviet Panda
Red Panda Commanda.
Adric Pakston
The person in the other picture still had a piece of his soul. His wife, Diannare. Former, wife. She had stuck with him through thick and thin, through his dumbest decisions. All the way up until he joined SCAR. She had understood why he'd done it, but it was the final straw. And he understood why she had handed him the divorce papers. She could not take him being gone for months at a time, not knowing if he was dead or not until he appears at her doorstep while on leave. He still loved her, and he ached for the life he could have had every time he looked at her picture. But it was a reminder of what he was fighting to protect.
"Those damn kids better get those guns back under our control," he grumbled to himself as he tucked the pictures into an inside shirt pocket, close to his heart. He was getting antsy, he needed to do something, but Durandel was firmly strapped into it's launch bay and would remain so until the order was given.
Worthlessplebian
Worthless pleb
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