Breaking Point

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  • Posted 2015-06-22 18:48:57 UTC
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  • Breaking Point


    Rarely is progress, drastic progress, a linear and consistent process. It comes in fits and starts, inventions that spark a period of rapid advancement and revolution. The Industrial Revolution of the 19th century was one, the start of the Digital Age another. Progress, of course, continues after these revolutions; but they are the spark.


    Thirty years ago was such a revolution. The establishment of the very first colony outside of our orbit. It wasn’t very far, just near the Moon, but it was groundbreaking. The first success, funded in large part by private entities, was the start of rapid expansion. Colonies were springing up further and further away, each one more populated than the last. Within fifteen years there were several dozen self-sustaining colonies between Earth and Mars. Some funded privately, some publicly, but all several days beyond easy reach. At the minimum. The furthest colony to date takes weeks to reach.


    Once upon a time, it would have taken the better part of a year. Advancements in propulsion have cut that time down, but it still is a trip not to be taken lightly. This relative isolation, naturally, led the disparate colonies to band together. Eventually they sought recognition by the Earth Federation, the governing body established some seventy years ago, as an entity all their own. The Ark Union, as they called themselves, earned as much sovereignty as any member state of the Federation.


    Not that everything was perfect. Even now some states refuse to join the Federation, and small-scale border skirmishes occur every few years, if not months. None are large enough, or united enough, to engage in outright warfare with the Federation but the sentiment is there. Some took advantage of the relative autonomy found in space to establish themselves as roving bandits, fueling even further the development of arms for the new age.


    That field would experience its own revolution, however, when he Ark Union developed the Arsenal Walker. The term used to be just the project’s code name, but it was quickly adopted as the name of the new weapon system. A humanoid machine, roughly twenty five meters tall, controlled by a pilot seated in an interior cockpit. Multitudes of thrusters arrayed on its frame provided for exceptional maneuverability in space, and its humanoid design allowed for much more adaptability to situations. This machine, AW-001, was more a testbed than a true product. It lacked refinement, and it lacked for weaponry, but it was a powerful statement. The creator, the Dyson Foundation, had also funded the creation of the very first colony. AW-001 has its roots in equipment designed for heavy lifting and construction, both in and out of atmosphere, but one of their engineers saw its potential.


    Notably, the Dyson Foundation sold the framework for the AW-001 to anyone willing to pay. Independent engineering propelled the system forward rapidly, multiple corporations tweaking and improving upon the design. After a time, even the Earth Federation, seeing the way the winds were blowing, purchased several frames.


    Engineering them for use on Earth’s surface was a more difficult task, but one taken very seriously. For alongside the revolutions in engineering, news of certain other practices in the colonies was breaking.


    An inspector from the Earth Federation found that multiple government-funded projects were undertaking illegal genetics research into cloning and gene manipulation, using the results as an easy labor force for the colonies. Despite sanctions by the Federation, the work continued. Eventually the practices became widespread, leading to mounting tensions between the Federation and its member entity.


    Those tensions continue to this day, thirty years since the colonies were founded. The isolation of the Ark Union made investigations into its activities difficult, and its representatives, seeking space to expand upon the Earth itself, have become increasingly belligerent. As the sanctions mount, so too have tensions between the Federation and the Union. Tempers are running high.


    On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?




    To make a long story short, a wide range of colonies between here and Mars were established thirty years ago. The colonies invented Arsenal Walkers, the war machines currently in use by all factions, and began using cloning and genetic manipulation to both engineer their citizens and their work force. Tensions between the Federation and colonies are high, and may be approaching a breaking point.


    You will play as a civilian or soldier of the Federation, stationed in Horizon. As these events unfold, you will have your part to play.




    Miles from where a continent was cut in two, one of half a dozen pipelines to space has become the nucleus to a thriving city of around four and a half million souls. Horizon is one of half a dozen such cities, cities that sprang up around the sites of the most critical pipelines to space: mass drivers. The massive complex used to bring people into space is situated in the outskirts of the city, connected by a major highway to the heart of the metropolis. The complex, in addition to the mass driver, houses docking for ships leaving and arriving on Earth.


    In addition to the driver, Horizon plays host to a large harbor and airport, permitting travel across the globe as well as from it.


    Given its nature as a hub of transportation, Horizon plays host to outposts of major corporations, tourist services, and more trade than anyone could fathom. Items shipped through the city inevitably drop part of their wares with its stores, taking advantage of the city’s constant traffic to make sales. The urban sprawl is set up remarkably well, with parks interspersed throughout the city and pedestrian-friendly bridges over major roads. The corporate side of things, be they offices or warehouses, are located near the outskirts of the city, leaving the center free for residence and smaller businesses. The beach is a frequent attraction, especially for those coming from space, as it is situated close to the mass driver facility.


    A Federation Armed Forces military base is located on the outskirts of the city, as well, with its diplomatic offices closer to the city center. The base is a surprisingly large one, possessing extensive facilities for Walker maintenance and launch, as well as a large Research and Development wing. The facility has its own shipyard, though its vessels are (primarily) docked near the mass driver when not on business to the base proper.


    Horizon, situated within a Federation member state, is governed by its laws. With the cultural exchange of a largely open world, various regional cultures and traditions are intermixed under a fairly standard legal code.


    Mecha and Technology:


    The primary weapon of war, in this time period, is the Arsenal Walker. Though often supported by more traditional vehicles and soldiers, Walkers have revolutionized the battlefield. Standing, on average, about 20 meters tall, these mechanical humanoids possess roughly human proportions, though the details may vary. The average Walker is agile enough to outmaneuver the average main battle tank, and those not maneuverable enough are armored enough to take a shot from one and keep on ticking. Walkers are powered by miniature cold fusion reactors, usually secreted away in the torso, and piloted from a cockpit inside the machine. Primary sensor arrays are housed in head-like units on the top of the machine.


    All Walkers, no matter how complex they become, all have their roots in the original AW-001 frame. As a result of this, and the Federation’s work in keeping things consistent, most technology used by them can with a little work be used in most other Walkers. A few noteworthy exceptions aside.


    More information on individual units can be found in the Walkers tab.


    Space travel, similarly, has advanced. Mass drivers are used to propel large, space-faring ships (be they military or civilian) out of Earth’s atmosphere, and most vessels are designed to be capable of re-entry under their own power, as well as flight in-atmosphere. Ships are propelled by EM Drives, first discovered in the 21st century and refined in the modern day. These engines run on minimal fuel, and are capable of traversing the distance to Mars in roughly seventy days. They can reach, provided an uninterrupted flight, the furthest permanent colony in roughly fifty six days.


    Military ships are armored, and make use (primarily) of railguns and other projectile weaponry. Newer and larger ships brought out of drydock by the Federation are just starting to make use of focused beam weapons, and they are very much in the trial phase.


    Colonies have been established between here and Mars, the nearest being a few cities of varying size on the Moon, and the furthest being on Mars. Colonies established in space, rather than on a planet or planetoid, take the form of O’Neil cylinders or derivatives thereof; vast cylindrical colonies with panels arranged around a center axis. The colony spins on this axis to generate artificial gravity by way of centrifugal force.


    Arsenal Walkers:


    All Federation Walkers are, as a rule, equipped with additional protection around the cockpit and an effective ejection mechanism for the pilot. Most weaponry used is, due to a shared base frame, compatible across all Walkers with some effort.  Almost all Walkers are also equipped with a melee weapon of some kind, in the event that their enemy closes to melee range. Most weaponry are either heated to aid in penetration, for large weapons, or modified to act as a vibroblade, for smaller weapons like knives.


    FAW-007[G] Warrior: One of the earliest functional designs still in service. While the machines are consistently upgraded to keep current, the base frame has not changed. 22 meters tall, slightly above average for a Walker, the Warrior is the workhorse of the Federation Forces. Something of a jack of all trades, the Warrior is reasonably armored and reasonably agile, excelling in neither area while performing adequately in both. The ground variant of the Warrior has been painted in every color from Federation Forces standard to camo variants for urban, desert, and jungle warfare. Possessing space for a number of additional systems and weapons, the baseline model is equipped with standard sensors and a combat rifle with shield. Cockpit is present inside the chest. Melee weapons vary, but commonly equipped with Walker-scaled machetes.


    FAW-016 Gunner: Designed to fill the artillery role, the stocky, 25m Gunner is one of the heaviest machines on the battlefield. It sacrifices its mobility for unusually durable armor, and unusually high levels of firepower. The baseline model’s power supply feeds directly into a pair of downsized railguns that angle over its shoulders, propelling various slugs at high velocities towards their targets. Various other weapon systems are constantly present, outfitted and changed based both on pilot preference and mission requirements. Its benefits, however, come at a cost; the railguns require most of the power core’s output when fired, requiring the machine to be completely still for its operation. Its abundance of weapon systems, as well, reduces its short range sensor options and the multitude of controls necessary for a pilot to operate in order to use both weapons and other functions is immense. For this reason, the original FAW-016 has largely been phased out in favor of the FAW-016A, redesigned for two pilots; one to control the suit’s primary functions, and the other to act as a gunner. The original can still be found in use, however. Both variants have their cockpits in the chest, while the FAW-016A has a fighter jet style two-seater cockpit. Melee armaments vary, both in type and presence, but often take the form of some kind of ax.


    FAW-014 Scout: Roughly 17m tall, the Scout is one of the smallest, in height and mass, Walkers fielded by the Federation. Its design clearly echoes its purpose, with more thrusters and less armor than any other design currently in service. The Scout, as the name implies, is meant to be an advance recon unit, responding to (and performing reconnaissance on) potential threats before they arrive. Its speed and agility are second to none on the ground, but it comes at the cost of armor and heavier weapon systems. Some Scouts have been modified to carry more potent weapons without the reduction in speed, but such designs are uncommon; they require ever further reduction of the already comparably frail machine’s armor. Cockpit is located in the chest, standard sensor array, Melee weapons vary, though commonly a small machete or set of knives.


    FAW-022 Raptor: One of the newest models, the Raptor is one of the most effective transformable Walkers. At 19.6m the Raptor is around the average Walker size, and every meter has been optimized for aerial combat. First developed from flight capable backpacks for other Walkers, Raptors possess a large array of powerful thrusters, with the most powerful embedded in the back. Smaller thrusters can be found in the legs for added stability. These thrusters grant the Raptor unparalleled speed in the air, at the cost of armor. However the most unique feature of the Raptor is it’s ability to transform into a high speed aerial fighter form. Capable of achieving incredibly high speeds, the Raptor is able to easily outperform the fighters of old. In terms of armaments, the transformable nature of the Raptor means that only possesses a single gun in Walker mode and small machine guns built into its head. Combat knives can also be added into holsters built into the legs, a variant with a missile system installed does exist. However said variant comes at the cost of some speed, and the missiles are most effective in aerial combat. However the main drawback of the Raptor is the high strain it places on the body, as such only the most able of pilots are capable of flying a Raptor in combat. Cockpit is located in the chest in Walker mode but becomes the nose cone in Flight mode. A slightly upgraded sensor array is built into the Raptor to allow for greater ease during dog fighting.  


    Colony Mechs:


    Colony Arsenal Walkers tend towards a cleaner design than their Federation counterparts, resulting from their greater familiarity with the mechanics of the system. They also tend towards darker or neutral colors, reflecting the fact that their primary intended use environment is space and such colors aid in camouflaging their location.


    CW-018 Assaulter: The Assaulter is the Ark Union’s standard machine. Built around an updated version of the AW-001’s original frame, and thus sharing some similarities with the Federation’s Walkers, the Assaulter is nevertheless a very modern unit. It’s slightly smaller stature, compared to a Warrior, stems from the more efficient nature of its internal mechanics, requiring less room than its Federation counterpart. Designed for use both in space and on the ground without requiring modifications, the Assaulter uses its additional thrusters for maximum maneuverability on the ground. It matches the Scout’s maneuverability with the Warrior’s armor and adaptability. Generally deployed with a shield as well as an assault weapon, with a backup heavy-caliber sidearm stored on its hip. Heat blades are stored behind either shoulder. The Assaulter also sports vulcans in its cranial unit for use against lightly armored targets.

    CW-019 Behemoth: Built around the same core frame as the CW-019, the Behemoth is a heavy-assault type Walker. Featuring more armor than an Assaulter, putting it a ways above a Warrior in terms of defensive capabilities, the Behemoth also mounts a riot shield on its shoulder and a cannon attached to its back. The cannon fires 155mm rounds using the same magnetic technology as a Gunner. It boasts a more robust power core, enabling it to fire the cannon without need to stop moving. When deployed the cannon will swing under the arm to be gripped using a handle atop the barrel. The Behemoth generally deploys, additionally, with a heavy assault rifle with an underslung explosive launcher and heat-based melee weapons over the shoulders. Despite its more efficient nature, the Behemoth does sacrifice some of the Assaulter’s maneuverability; while capable of easily outmaneuvering a Gunner, a lightly-armored Warrior could match its speed.





    The profile form is included below. If there are headings that are not there that you wish to use, feel free to add them; these ones, however, are absolutely necessary for a character’s approval. If your character possesses a Walker, you must also fill out a profile for their machine.


    All military characters are part of the Federation Forces, and it is recommended that civilian characters have some kind of proximity, either socially or location-wise, to the military to avoid being too spread out to interact with the plot.


    Name: Self explanatory.

    Age: Also fairly self explanatory.

    Gender: I feel like I really don’t need to explain these first three headings; gender goes here.

    Occupation: What does your character do for a living? If they’re military, please note rank here as well, bearing in mind that most of your characters aren’t going to be very high ranked.

    Appearance: What does your character look like? Please be detailed. You don’t have to write a novel just about how your character looks, but please be more detailed than just jotting down a few characteristics.

    Equipment: What does your character carry? Weapons, medical supplies, things of that nature go here. Also use this spot to denote possession of a Walker.

    Skills: What is your character good at? Be reasonable, they’re not some unstoppable super-ace.

    Personality: While I understand that personalities are hard to pin down at first, please include an overview of your character’s general behavior.

    Bio: Every character has a history, and here is where you outline that. This can be incredibly detailed, or fairly basic; just please give a decent overview of their past, even if other characters will not know it.

    Weakness: No one is perfect. What is your character’s weakness, be it a fatal flaw or an insufficient skill?


    Profile for Arsenal Walkers:


    Base Model: Even customized, all Walkers have a base frame. The ones that players can start with are outlined above. If you wish to use a custom one, that is permissible; but you have to give a fairly detailed overview, and be aware that it must fit in with other mass produced models.

    Designation: Even mass produced machines need something to differentiate them. What is this specific unit called?

    Appearance: Describe its appearance, with particular attention to how it differs from a stock model.

    Armaments: What are its weapons? Be reasonable, and bear in mind what the model of your choice could feasibly use.

    Weakness: All machines have some kind of flaw.

    Pilot: Self explanatory. Who pilots it?




    1. Obey all BZPower rules.

    2. Listen to the staff.

    3. No godmodding; this includes, but is not limited to, autohitting, metagaming, and bunnying. I think most of you know what constitutes godmodding and what doesn’t, but if there is ever a question, err on the side of caution and take it to the staff.

    4. Do not kill another player’s character without their permission.

      1. If, however, a character is put in a position wherein their only option of survival is to godmod, that character will be killed.

    5. All profiles must be approved by the staff. While there is no hard character cap, we do reserve the right to deny approval if your number of characters is getting unreasonable.

    6. The staff will deal out punitive action as needed, though it will hopefully be unnecessary. Depending on the severity of the transgression, punishment may range from character injury to temporary or permanent ban of the player.

    7. Please maintain a degree of realism; yes, your characters are piloting robots that should not, technically, exist, but please stick to what would be reasonable realistic.

    8. Have fun.

  • Edited on 2016-01-25 06:57:00 by It's A Gundam MkII
  • Posted 2015-06-22 18:53:56 UTC
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  • -GM IC-


    The city of Horizon was bustling. More so than usual, which was saying something for the lively trade city. Crowds moved about the city talking loudly and cheerfully, and shops were decked out in various states of decoration. Streamers, banners, signs declaring their sales for all to see. The city’s center was a particularly lively hub of activity, with workers moving to and fro as they set up speakers and stages, and others decorated anything that could hold a banner.

    The reason for it all was no secret, and it was not unique. Similar scenes were playing out all over the world, in every city sizable enough to have such a large-scale celebration. There would be sales, ceremonies, parades, and for some, fireworks. It was, after all, one of the most notable celebrations in the Federation. It was the thirtieth anniversary of the first permanent space colony.

    Tensions may have risen between the Federation and the Ark Union, but the day was still celebrated across the world as a triumph of modern technology. It was a holiday recognized by every member state of the Federation, and one that many had off from work. Even Federation officials and soldiers were permitted the day off to celebrate, save for the most essential personnel.

    Approaching midday, Horizon was beginning to get into the spirit. The parade was set to start soon, shops were holding their promotions, and top Federation and city officials both were set to deliver their addresses at the ceremony following just after the parade. With much of the Federation base’s personnel free to mingle and celebrate for the first time in weeks, it was looking to be an eventful holiday indeed.

  • Posted 2015-06-23 03:08:18 UTC
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  • IC: Christoph Lockheed
    <Panama-1, you're clear for take-off. Show those drones who's boss.>


    The only acknowledgement given by the pilot of the customised FAW-007[G] was a simple grunt, his eyes trained carefully as he gripped the controls of the machine, pushing it forwards and out of the bay. Its horn glinted in the sunlight, the azure titan trudging out of the doors to the Test Team hangars with remarkable majesty. This was the Lockheed Custom, the signature unit of Christoph Lockheed, captain of Panama's Team 4.


    Beeps alerted him to the presence of enemy IFFs. The drones were coming.


    It was time to test out his reoptimised warrior.


    <Remember boss, try to get back in time for the parade okay?>




    He flicked up his mech's machine gun, aiming it towards the first incoming drone.



  • Posted 2015-06-23 07:26:27 UTC
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  • IC: Somewhere in the throng of the buzzing troops that had excitedly begun to mill about the base, one particularly milling and unfortunately not buzzed in the proper, drunk off your nuts sense Lance Corporal paced excitedly, ear-to-ear grin splitting his face. It had finally come!

    The one thing each and every nutjob that signed up to lock themselves in a base for months on end looked forward to with unbridled glee!

    Leave! Official leave!

    And not to mention, a party!

    Touring the pubs, sampling the food for both the stomach and the eyes...

    Fire in eyes, hair, and veins, the excitable Irish Mech Jockey couldn't wait for the all clear to get into town, practically bouncing on his heels like one of the famous boxers his homeland had a tradition of producing.

    Horizon'd learn what a real party was once the brewing storm had been let loose upon them. PJ O'Sullivan was coming.

  • Edited on 2015-06-23 07:27:17 by Tsumugu Kinagise
  • Posted 2015-06-23 08:17:19 UTC
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  • IC: Christoph Lockheed


    The practice drones supplied to Panama Base, while heavily stripped down from their wartime counterparts, were pinnacles of engineering, capable of moving through the air at rapid velocities without suffering in manoeuvrability. This made them perfect for weapons testing, especially if accuracy was involved. Whoever coded the AI was likely quite skilled as well, for Christoph felt that the challenge they provided was rather motivating, even as a streak of machinegun fire scraped against the drone's wings, sending it spinning downwards before it rapidly righted itself. He had spent countless hours here in the testing ground, pushing his mech to the limits of its ability.


    He fired again.


    The burst clipped the drone in the side, but it was not enough to disable the flying machine.


    His aim had been faltering recently.


    He needed to rectify that.

  • Posted 2015-06-23 20:29:34 UTC
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  • -==IC: Chloe==-


    Chloe sighed, as she looked around the city in amusement. "Geez, they're loud..." Chloe mused, but didn't mind at all, as she sat down at a restaurant's outdoor table, and smiled. 30 years, huh? It's been a while since I've been on a colony... I can't really remember what it felt like there. Chloe thought, as she sighed again, and looked up at the sky.


    "It's so blue today..." Chloe mused, and scratched her head. "Geez, when was I even out of the hangar last? I need to stop that..." Chloe mumbled to herself, and then looked back to the celebrations going on... It was loud; but it was also peaceful, and Chloe definitely didn't mind that at all.

  • Posted 2015-06-23 23:52:10 UTC
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  • IC: Sofia - Horizon Streets.


    Some soldiers liked to go get drunk or hang out with their mates on their first day off in months. Sofia, on the other hand, decided to explore the city, and maybe do a little gift shopping for her friends and family back home, considering that all the stores were holding sales and promotions. 


    Out in public, she was more conscious of her limp than usual, and did her best to steady her pace and not draw attention to herself. She'd put her sunglasses on to hide the scar near her eye, as well. It wasn't that she was embarrassed by her injuries, but they were something she did her best not to think about, and having people gawking at her because of them made that difficult. 


    After a few hours she stopped, returning to the main street as she waited for the parade to start.


    OOC: Open for interaction. 

  • Posted 2015-06-24 01:55:14 UTC
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  • IC: Ethan (Horizon)


    Meanwhile, a young ginger in flannel was just walking through the city, not a care in the world and not a clue what he was actually going to do. Alcohol wasn't exactly his cup of tea, surprising at it was, though he wouldn't mind a glass of cold lemonade. Actually, that wasn't a half-bad idea. 


    Focusing into the world, the freckled mechanic scanned the crowd for a vendor of the pale, citrus drink he desired. Nothing in sight, as far as he could tell. That was fine. He wasn't too concerned, really. Being in the military had taught him the differences between necessities and luxuries, and cold lemonade was certainly a luxury. 


    With a goal somewhat in mind, Ethan resumed his pace. He didn't have to be back at base for a while, there was no hurry at all. 


    OOC: ethan is also open for interaction but will find some as soon as I can actually function so yeah that's that.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 04:29:06 UTC
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  • IC:


    <Boss, you know you have the day off, right?>


    Strictly speaking, Benjamin Armbruster wasn't supposed to be using a military comm link off base, off duty, to contact someone for personal reasons. Strictly speaking, it wasn't stopping the Lance Corporal from doing so. The pilot had slipped out with the first surge, making sure he was up on time to do so. Well. More along the lines of "not sleeping so he was awake on time", but that was a minor detail. He'd bought a coffee at a shop when he got into town and felt right as rain. 


    <You know, as in, one of the only ones we get? Lots of deals in town? You can go on a shopping spree for those sweaters you like? Lots of girls around? You know, freedom?> A beat. <Boss you're running tests on Colony Day. I like running tests. I'm off base.>

    <Boss what's wrong with you.>


    Smiling to himself, comm unit affixed to his ear, the German pilot moved easily through the streets, nodding a greeting to people he passed. He himself hadn't actually taken advantage of those deals (yet), but he figured luring his practical-minded commander out with some pragmatic reasoning might help. He sipped from his coffee as he walked, scanning the storefronts for anything that looked interesting. There was a while yet before the parade, and he wanted to make the most of it. Maybe chat a little with the locals. Not like he got out much.

    The fair-skinned pilot, in the back of his head, was very glad he'd remembered sunscreen. The ball of fire was out in full force and he did not want to spend the next few days like a local lobster.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 04:32:43 UTC
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  • IC: The all clear for the second wave to partake in festivities was shortly given.

    Roughly ten minutes and five miles over the posted speed limit later, The streets of Horizon echoed with the hooliganic screams and shouts that all the Federation's enemies had, or would soon come to know to fear.

    "EEEEEEEIRE! HAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAA!" PJ roared out the window, as he and his chosen war steed taxi ride sharply veered past a silver Camry and into the off-ramp leading into the city proper. Quickly snatching a parking spot expertly from under the nose of some undoubtedly stressed soccer mom after a short drive, the bluster and boisterousness only grew as the half-dozen good-looking young soldiers filed out of the Jeep in short notice, joined by multiple others like them. In-uniform or not, the parking lot was quickly beginning to look like a base of operations for an invasion that only grasped a toehold of Horizon.

    Groups were promptly decided on the spot, and curfews were set with full knowledge by all involved as merely being a formality.

    Either leaving in pairs, trio, or in startlingly common cases, amorphously large groups, more and more of the Federation's finest filed into the city, a lone Irishman amongst them flitting from group to group with neither rhyme nor reason, only a good time.

    OOC: PJ's open.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 04:44:54 UTC
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  • -==IC: Chloe==-


    "Oi, oi; what's with all the noise?" Chloe scowled slightly, as she sat up, as the streets grew even more boisterous all of a sudden. She reached out, and grabbed the arm of a nearby man walking past, who had brownish coloured hair, figuring that he had something to do with the noise level suddenly increasing to a point that was even beyond what she usually tolerated. "What's the big idea with all the racket?"


    OOC: And PJ is right there, yes yes. =P

  • Posted 2015-06-24 05:04:47 UTC
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  • IC: Rejiva hrmphed at the main street, glowering at it even as she brought a bottle up to her lips for a swig. She lowered it and glanced across the crowds, more irritated mumbles rising to the surface. Crowds like this never sat well with her, nor did the sort of parade she was sure was going to come noisily down the street any minute. Too many places where things could go wrong, more dangers could arise. It was the perfect place for an attack, if you asked her. Still, she may as well come out and see, what with it being a holiday.


    "It is exciting night, Da?" She grunted to the woman next to her, glancing the "long" way down to Sofia's height. "Will be much celebration and making of parties over colonies. Is not like it was big mistake that will bite us in rear or anything."


    IC: Andrei quietly slipped into a seat at a local cafe, a ways away from the main street festivities. With a shaking voice, he asked a waitress for a cup of coffee, cream and sugar please, and settled into his seat to just try and relax and enjoy the leave. Crowds unsettled him, that many people he didn't know in one place, with all the lights and noise...


    He knew that it would take a miracle for him to go without unfamiliar company, even located where he was, but it was worth the risk.


    OOC: Rejiva making small talk at Sofia, Andrei open for interaction.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 05:18:51 UTC
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  • IC: Sofia - Main Street.


    "Seems like a bit of a.... what's the word.... pessimistic attitude," she replied, trying to gauge whether the other woman was drunk or not. "You don't like parades and parties?" 

  • Edited on 2015-06-24 05:19:57 by Of Australian Origin...
  • Posted 2015-06-24 05:21:32 UTC
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  • IC: Despite there being a brief flash of the desire to berate the girl for yanking him by the arm out of the blue, O'Sullivan could only keep that same manic grin. He was in far too good a mood to let such a minor transgression, especially one by someone he happened to recognize from random passings-by on base. In his leniency, the Emerald Isle's Proudest of Sons deigned to answer.

    "They kept us on-base for an extra hour and tirty minutes! An hour tirty! For no reason! We gotta make oop fer lost toime!" he reported passionately, in that thick, Irish, difficult for his writer to accurately captured accent.

    Reaching the same arm around Chloe's shoulders, he swept a hand across Horizon's skyline, even as he began to walk forward once more. 

    "We got us tis whooooole city ta hit oop, an
    d only one noight ta do it! Come on!" he urged, pointing straight forwards, all the way down 54th Avenue.

    "Let's have us some fun!"

  • Edited on 2015-06-24 05:23:33 by Tsumugu Kinagise
  • Posted 2015-06-24 05:32:36 UTC
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  • -==IC: Chloe==-


    "Wha, but, wait, huh?" Chloe's face was flustered as she tried, and failed, to figure out what the heck was going on here. How had she managed to get roped into this. The girl sighed, as she didn't see a way out of this, and shrugged. "Alright then. You better be right about this fun though." She warned, as she inwardly seemed a bit amused at how weird that had been. Besides, what could a little fun hurt? It was a festival! And it was getting a little boring, after all, anyway.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 05:57:27 UTC
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  • IC: "Tat's the spirit!" he exclaimed jovially. "The day's yoong and the night's not even close ta beginning! We gonna go for a ride!" 

    A confident declaration, and one that he fully intended to deliver on. He had a nasty habit of keeping his promises, stemming back from that one time in an amateur boxing bout wherein he picked the round he'd laid out an opponent.

    However, there was one nasty caveat to his approach.

    None of the pubs were open anywhere close to now.

    American influence! He needed to tink fast, and tink smart if he wanted to do something besides mingle about the city.

    To the newly-created pair's left, he spied a classic game stall. 

    Ring Toss.

    Say no more, let the master do his work.

    He stopped the two, pointing across himself (and her) to the carnival game, currently surrounded by a gaggle of children.

    "What do ya say we make ourselves a bituva wager?" he asked, grinning impishly.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 05:57:33 UTC
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  • IC: "Parades, nyet," Rejiva replied, taking another swig. "It is too easy to take attenders by surprise. Is perfect place for sneak attack, especially on monumentous day like today." She gestured with her bottle, then said, "Would be like Tet Offensive, but worse. Would be hitting us harder."

  • Posted 2015-06-24 06:02:11 UTC
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  • -==IC: Chloe==-


    Ring toss. Oh, this wouldn't end well. "A w-wager?" Chloe asked nervously, as she had a bad, bad feeling about this. Her aim. Was horrid. So, she had to hope maybe, just maybe, he didn't mean a competition.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 06:04:33 UTC
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  • IC: Sofia - Main Street.


    "Um.... okay...." she hesitated, "Are you just incredibly paranoid...." one hand started to slide warily towards her sidearm, "...or are you trying to say that something's actually going to happen?"

  • Posted 2015-06-24 06:09:20 UTC
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  • IC: "I am feeling that something will be happening, Da," Rejiva replied with a heavy sigh, "But it may just be paranoia speaking. Or perhaps the alcohol, though I am not drunk yet. It is simply that, when things, they are going well, that it all comes crashing down." She made a dismissive gesture towards the mechanical arm in lieu of further explanation.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 06:09:32 UTC
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  • IC: The young firebrand's eyes were nothing if not sharp, and while loud, boisterous, and a bit of a braggart, he was by no means dumb or imperceptive. In fact, he was far, far from it.

    The smile grew, and his mercy fell upon her like a great wave.

    "How about... winner buys loonch? Of course, tey also get braggin' roites." he offered, inclining his head towards the stand.

    "Sound good ta you?"


  • Edited on 2015-06-24 06:11:09 by Tsumugu Kinagise
  • Posted 2015-06-24 06:14:14 UTC
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  • IC: Sofia - Main Street.


    She relaxed a little, leaving her gun in its holster. "Well, I've had my fair share of bad luck," she finally replied, "if you go around expecting the worst all the time, you're going to miss out on the good stuff in life." 

  • Posted 2015-06-24 06:27:06 UTC
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  • -==IC: Chloe==-


    Chloe seemed surprised by the wager, but smiled with a nod, as she chuckled. "You're on. Don't expect me to go easy on you though." Chloe said with a smug smile. Despite the fact that she had absolutely no aim, nor the skills to go with ring toss, luck was always a possible factor. And she thought it just might be on her side that day.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 06:36:08 UTC
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  • IC: "That eager ta spend yer mooney, huh?" he laughed, wading them through the crowd of kids and up to the front. "Well oi ain't complainin'! Leaves more fer the parties tonight!"

    Holding up a pair of fingers, he got the working carnie's attention once the last of the children had finished up.

    "Two games." he requested, indicating Chloe and himself, and both receiving five rings for their troubles.

    Twirling a pair around his finger nonchalantly, he turned to his fellow pilot. 

    "Oi'm a gentleman, so you're oop first." he extended a hand to the rows and rows of bottles set up.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 06:43:19 UTC
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  • -==IC: Chloe==-


    Chloe seemed amused at the guy's attitude, as he definitely something. "Alright then, if you insist." Chloe stepped forward, and picked up her set of rings. The pilot focused, as she gripped the first in her hand, and then threw it forward, up in the air... Only for it to land to the far side of the bottles. "... Well then."

  • Posted 2015-06-24 06:50:12 UTC
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  • IC: He smirked. "Troy a bit more of a flick of the wrist." he advised, folding his arms and watching carefully.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 06:55:35 UTC
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  • -==IC: Chloe==-


    Chloe's eyebrow twitched a slight bit at the advice, but tried to do so. Her shot was a bit closer, and ended up on the rightmost bottle, instead of in the middle, but it still somewhat worked. Curse you aiming skills, why did you skip over me?! Chloe mentally ranted, as she picked up the next ring, determined to at least land the rest of the shots, regardless of where she initially wanted them to go.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 06:58:54 UTC
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  • IC: He smirked wider. "Throw it flat. If the ring's all tilted, it'll hit two and bounce off."

    Lost of time spent at carnivals as a boy. The streets of Dublin were a lively place all year.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 07:05:09 UTC
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  • -==IC: Chloe==-


    Chloe frowned at that. How would that actually help? She kept herself calm, however, and focused. If I manage any shot right, then maybe this crazy idea might actually work for improving my aim. ... Doubt it. Chloe, however, tried to keep the ring as flat as she could, and threw it with a flick of her wrist as she had been told. It was still off by a good margin, but she got it on one of the bottles. Without waiting, she picked up the fourth ring, and tossed it out again, however, it was off by the same margin, and Chloe started to get frustrated at her horrible aim once again.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 07:07:25 UTC
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  • IC: "Very noicely doon." he said with an approving nod, sounding more like a coach than an opponent. "You have to stay calm. Aim for the edge."

  • Posted 2015-06-24 07:13:53 UTC
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  • IC: "I think I have earned right to be pessimist," Reggie said, turning to stare coolly at Sofia, artificial eye glowing cold blue. "Is hard to not be at this point." The russian woman sighed heavily once more and stared at her bottle.


    "Oof. Look at me. Is not even midnight and i am already being buzzed."

  • Posted 2015-06-24 07:22:58 UTC
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  • -==IC: Chloe==-


    Chloe looked at him incredulously. "Aim... for the edge." Chloe looked at her fellow pilot with extreme skepticism. "The thing I'm already hitting, but not the thing I can't..." Chloe paused as a look of realization dawned on her face. "Wait..." She started to realize what he might have meant, and grabbed the final ring with a frown. Well... Here goes nothing. Chloe thought, as she threw the ring, aiming for the far right bottle... And ended up with it on the bottle just right of the center. Chloe seemed stunned, as she stood there in silent surprise, but frowned slightly. It couldn't be that easy, though, could it...? She wondered, as she still seemed a bit unconvinced, but yet... it had worked, hadn't it?

  • Posted 2015-06-24 07:25:15 UTC
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  • IC: Sofia - Main Street.


    "Maybe you should lay off the drinks?" she suggested warily, stepping a little closer and reaching out to try to take the bottle away from Reggie, "Go play a game or something to take your mind off.... whatever depressing thoughts it's currently on...." 

  • Posted 2015-06-24 07:35:37 UTC
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  • IC: "Two outta Foive, then?" he confirmed, laughing. "Not bad, though I'm surproised ya didn't listen to me on that last one."

    Finding his distance, he held the first ring in the crease of his thumb and forefinger, he lined up his first shot, aiming for the left edge of the bottles.

    A flick of the wrist sending the ring into the hard spin it needed to fly stably, and the self-proclaimed master of movement was one for one.

    "You want the edge."

  • Posted 2015-06-24 08:16:28 UTC
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  • IC:


    <Boss, you know you have the day off, right?>


    Strictly speaking, Benjamin Armbruster wasn't supposed to be using a military comm link off base, off duty, to contact someone for personal reasons. Strictly speaking, it wasn't stopping the Lance Corporal from doing so. The pilot had slipped out with the first surge, making sure he was up on time to do so. Well. More along the lines of "not sleeping so he was awake on time", but that was a minor detail. He'd bought a coffee at a shop when he got into town and felt right as rain. 


    <You know, as in, one of the only ones we get? Lots of deals in town? You can go on a shopping spree for those sweaters you like? Lots of girls around? You know, freedom?> A beat. <Boss you're running tests on Colony Day. I like running tests. I'm off base.>


    <Boss what's wrong with you.>


    Smiling to himself, comm unit affixed to his ear, the German pilot moved easily through the streets, nodding a greeting to people he passed. He himself hadn't actually taken advantage of those deals (yet), but he figured luring his practical-minded commander out with some pragmatic reasoning might help. He sipped from his coffee as he walked, scanning the storefronts for anything that looked interesting. There was a while yet before the parade, and he wanted to make the most of it. Maybe chat a little with the locals. Not like he got out much.


    The fair-skinned pilot, in the back of his head, was very glad he'd remembered sunscreen. The ball of fire was out in full force and he did not want to spend the next few days like a local lobster.

    IC: Christoph Lockheed


    Bullets scattered across the drone's frame, riddling it with "holes" (the use of dummy rounds prevented the base's machines from suffering too much wear in the course of testing, after all). Despite the sudden interruption by his subordinate, he had not failed to take down the drone, cameras trained on the slowly falling bulk of his test opponent. It was clear that his aim had worsened a bit in the last few weeks, with all his practice times taken up by bureaucracy, but watching his triumph still brought a certain sense of satisfaction to him. Though hopefully its landing wouldn't be too rough; getting the mechanics angry at extra work was quite unwise.


    "Milcomm is restricted for on-duty purposes, Armbruster," replied the captain of Test Team 4, opening up the channel to his team member. "Please remember to stick to protocol."


    His team could be quite rebellious and eccentric, but never to a point where they deserved too much sanction. They were also skilled when in action, and Christoph always felt reassured having them by his side. Though at times they needed to read up on protocol more.


    "I will be in town by the beginning of the parade."

  • Posted 2015-06-24 16:30:39 UTC
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  • IC:


    <You're no fun. Fine, fine, see you then. Armbruster out.>


    The pilot sighed, sipped his coffee, and slipped the earpiece into his pocket as he kept walking.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 19:55:45 UTC
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  • -==IC: Chloe==-


    "The edge?" Chloe looked over curiously, now wondering what he meant; she had thought that he meant aim for the outside, but it didn't sound like that's what he had meant, with what he had just mentioned.

  • Posted 2015-06-24 20:49:32 UTC
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  • IC: "The edge." he repeated cryptically, smiling as his second toss scored home. "Less bottles around the one you're troyin' ta hit. Less ta bounce off."

  • Posted 2015-06-24 21:00:52 UTC
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  • IC: Susan



    What to do when on leave...


    This was probably going to be the last day off she had in a while; it would be good to make it count.


    But on what?


    So Susan was currently sitting in a coffee shop (coincidentally, the same one that Andrei was sitting in), sipping an iced coffee while looking over an airplane magazine.


    Not the greatest start ever to Colony Day...

  • Posted 2015-06-24 21:09:30 UTC
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  • -==IC: Chloe==-


    "Hmm..." Chloe frowned, as she watched. "Though, that doesn't do much if you can't aim to begin with..." She mumbled nearly inaudibly as she leaned against the counter,resting her chin in her hands.