Halos Nach TariffCan you blame me?I'm too famous.Registered Userregular
Major Traits shouldn't really have an in-battle useage, they're more for when your characters aren't piloting a Jaeger.
I don't mind too much if they're combat based but yours are fairly powerful considering trait bonuses are always 'turned on' as it were.
Your weight stat there should be 2 I think, not 0.
Apart from that everything else looks fine to me.
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FencingsaxIt is difficult to get a man to understand, when his salary depends upon his not understandingGNU Terry PratchettRegistered Userregular
Apologies but being super sick has prevented me from finishing my character concept in a timely manner.
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Halos Nach TariffCan you blame me?I'm too famous.Registered Userregular
Sorry to hear that @Curly_Brace, hope you feel better. Unfortunately we are a bit full to be adding more player right now but I'll add you to the reserve list in case anyone wants to drop out or I feel we can expand the game to more players.
I've done everyone a rough Signature Ability upgrade chart tree thing apart from @Gatsby, who I've yet to hear from.
I just need to pretty them up some and format them to be readable by humans and then I think we'll be ready to try playing this thing maybe.
This should be the final version. The shot cannon has been replaced with a second melee weapon, the Flame Mace's effect has been clarified, as has the the signature ability's in game mechanics.
Name: Shane McCune
Stat Block
Strength 3
Agility 2
Resilience 2
Mind 1
Major Trait: Bruiser (Any problem can be solved by the application of sufficient force, the more up close and personal the better)
A failed skill check using Mind will be rerolled using the Strength stat in place of Mind (IE: Negotiating for material or picking a lock may ordinarily use the Mind stat to represent the intellectual nature of the task. For Shane, he may attempt to physically intimidate the other party, or simply break the lock) using this trait will have negative repercussions in some cases where even a success using Strength may result in a failure to achieve positive results as decided by the GM (IE: Hacking a computer).
Minor Trait: Jock, Gear Head, Over Protective, “Ladies man”
Name: Benjamin Reilly
Stat Block
Strength 1
Agility 1
Resilience 2
Mind 4
Major Trait: Kaiju Groupie (seeks to understand the Kaiju and origin in order to fight them more effectively)
Ben gains an additional +2 bonus to skill checks relating to Kaiju as well as the bonus from a related stat. For example: negotiating selling cost for Kaiju organs (You call this fresh spleen? It’s been in that jar since Onibaba went down, now… what I’ve got to offer you is the good stuff…), evaluating the reliability of Kaiju bunkers, etc... His tendency to talk at length about his favorite subject however inflicts a -1 penalty in any social situation not directly related to Kaiju.
Minor Trait: Sci-fi Nerd, Bookworm, Tech head, Recreational Researcher, Introvert, Paranoid
Neural Bridge Synergy: Precision Strike
By observing a Kaiju in action and comparing it to previous incursions Benjamin is able to recognize some details about its anatomy; this allows them to determine where a melee or ranged attack should be directed for maximum effectiveness and communicate the vulnerability to any allied jaegers if so desired. A successful attack using this information will remove any bonuses the Kaiju had accrued from previous Weakness Exploit attacks as the information reveals a previously unnoticed weakness to target.
History:
Both crewmembers hail from San Francisco, born in the same year and growing up in the same area, Benjamin and Shane attended the same schools for most of their lives. They had many of the same classes and, for the vast majority of their shared scholastic career; Shane made Ben’s life a living hell. Athletically gifted, outgoing and popular, Shane harassed Benjamin relentlessly for his studious leanings and generally anti-social behavior. For his part, Ben ignored or avoided his tormentor as much as possible, spending free periods in the library or in front of his computer, taking advanced courses that interested him and counting down the days until graduation. Had the world not changed, that would likely have been the last they saw of each other in any real capacity. Ben went onto a prestigious college to continue his education, and Shane took a position managing his family’s garage.
But the world did change, and the city they had grown up in was destroyed by Trespasser a little over a year past graduation. AS time passed and the Jaeger program moved into full swing both men eventually applied for positions. Ben took a research position learning about the alien creatures that were rampaging across the planet, and Shane turned his mechanical skill towards maintaining the only weapons that could save the planet. Still, it was unlikely that the two would ever meet, had not a mistyped SQL query from one of the Commercial Corps dredged their shared past out of a PPDC database and flagged them as potentially drift compatible.
If the two had been surprised when summoned to a shatterdome for Drift Compatibility testing, it was nothing compared to learning that they actually were drift compatible. Drifting through each other’s memories has shown them both the other side of their childhood relationship. While they don’t talk about it to others, this understanding has changed both of them and given them a bond that only a Jaeger pilot could understand. Ben typically speaks for the pair with almost unconscious sarcasm. And Shane is ready, willing, and entirely too eager to answer any perceived slight to himself or his partner with a closed fist.
Appearance:
Ben is average height, though being rather thin leaves people the impression of being taller then he actually is. He tends toward unkempt hair and a short, poorly maintained beard. He often shows up for duty looking sleepless after long hours spent assisting in the Kaiju research facility.
Shane is shorter than average with a heavy set, bulky build that speaks of considerable strength. He’s often found among the Jaeger tech crews, offering assistance with whatever is needed. He’s a good hand with a welding torch or a wrench, though he avoids the more technological components. His work in the jaeger garage leaves his clothes and hands consistently grease stained.
Jaeger: Cyclopean Junket
Mk: I (10 pts)
Strength: 4
Armor: 3
Agility: 0
Firepower: 0
Power: 3 (+1)
Weight: 3
Bonuses: +2 melee damage, -3 Movement
Qualities:
As the name implies, Cyclopean Junket is a slow moving, graceless titan, intended to be devastating in melee combat and designed to trade blows while focusing on landing a devastating hit or combo. The Jaeger suffers from slow movement and a lack of effective long ranged combat ability. It relies on ideal positioning before a battle to insure that it’s in the proper place to engage the oncoming kaiju.
Weaponry:
Flame Mace
Range: Melee
Special Effect: Napalm - Affected Kaiju takes 1d4 damage a turn for the next 2 turns.
The primary weapon of Cyclopean Junket, the Flame Mace is a massive blunt instrument that emits a torrent of burning napalm on a successful hit. This weapon was originally designed to attempt to cauterize the wound and minimize the impact of Kaiju Blue on the surrounding environment. If the blow was not enough to finish the Kaiju, the napalm will continue dealing minor amounts of for a short time after the blow. The damage done by the burning napalm to the environment is generally considered preferable to large quantities of kaiju blood, but this feature can be deactivated for city use or in other largely combustible areas.
Blazing Bracers
Range: Melee
Special Effect: Incendiary - Deal 1 additional point of HP damage for every point the offensive roll beats the defensive roll.
Intended as a secondary weapon to the Flame Mace, the large, armored housing that make up much of Cyclopean Junket’s forearm hold an array of powerful chemical rockets. Instead of being used to propel the arms forward to increase punching power however, they’re mounted in the front of the housing above the fist, and several are engaged immediately after landing a punch, adding high temperature burns to a successful blow. While an identical system is mounted above each wrist, only one can activate at a time. Attempting to activate both will explosively interfere with the operation of the Flame Mace.
Auxiliary systems:
Heavy Boot: Utilizes a localized gravity field to temporarily enhance the Jaegers mass, rooting it to the ground and insuring rock solid footing while engaging a Kaiju.
Effect: The jaeger’s Weight score is added to all defensive Grapple and Trip checks while this system is active, at the cost of 1” movement when activated and a 1” penalty to each additional movement die rolled while the system is active.
Signature Ability:
Juggernaut Rush:
Cyclopean Junket pushes its systems well past the redline and charges at the targeted Kaiju in an attempt to force it into a headlock and then deliver a punishing blow.
Effect: Cyclopean Junket charges the targeted Kaiju, moving up to twice its current free movement speed (6” Normally, 4” when Heavy Boot is active). If Cyclopean Junket reaches melee range with a Kaiju, it makes a grapple attempt; if the grapple is successful Cyclopean Junket can make one Free Attack (2D10+any appropriate bonuese) versus the target. During the grapple check, the targeted Kaiju’s strength modifier is ignored.
see317 on
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Halos Nach TariffCan you blame me?I'm too famous.Registered Userregular
edited September 2013
Aww, you drew me a picture I love it.
(Although I think your Weight should be 3? (Agility-Armour) unless I'm missing something somewhere)
Speaking of which I actively encourage folks to draw their jaegers/characters/scenes/whatever. There will probably be bonus experience or something for it. And certainly sucking up the GM will never be a bad plan.
If you don't think you can draw well enough that's cool, give it a go anyway, any effort is fine by me.
If you reaaaallly think you can't draw than I guess I could probably be appeased by works of creative writing, musical compositions or really anything else of a creative vein you want to share.
We should go into the Artist's Corner and be all "Man, these Jaegers sound really cool, but they're probably too difficult for you guys to draw" and then just to show us, they'll draw awesome arts of the Jaegers
Which is what we wanted all along!
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chiasaur11Never doubt a raccoon.Do you think it's trademarked?Registered Userregular
Fine.
I will do horrible, horrible things for bonus XP.
(Not illustration, though. I won't cause others that kind of pain.)
"I don't think anyone saw us."
"Good. Because I think the Marshall wouldn't want us to steal... okay, the Marshall wouldn't want us committing grand theft at all."
"Hey, it isn't stealing if..."
"If?"
"It isn't stealing if... okay, it's totally stealing. But come on. It's not like they were going to use it."
"I don't know, Shelley."
"We'll give them some of the the money from the Nobel."
"If we get the Nobel."
"Not if, Johnny. When."
Shelley nudged a concealed panel. The wall rotated away to reveal the Shatterdome's secondary research lab. Jonathan placed a box near a large terrarium and connected the hatches. A kaiju skin parasite crawled from the box into the larger holding cell.
"Aww. Who's a good little test subject? You are! Probably."
Shelley nodded.
"And if anyone asks, it was always there. We just need to get the story straight before the new rangers arrive."
"How many this time?"
"One team of nats* and a ton of 'jimbos.**"
"Well, at least we won't have to remember their names for long."
Shelley raised her hand. Jonathon tossed her a screwdriver without looking.
"Anything good in the new Jaegers?"
"Standard production. Cheap but distinct, since the impressive specialists tend to get trashed after a few rounds. Yet, somehow, Shatterdome Command won't believe the Kaiju are designed to counter Jaegers."
"I accept that K-Hunter theory is a fringe belief. History will validate us."
"Fringe? You believe it. I believe it. Newt Geiszler believes it. That's the three top minds in K-science, right there. Who else could they want?"
"Someone who isn't listed as a mad scientist in the annual performance evaluations?"
"Oh, right. Point."
The lab fell silent.
"So, any bets on the next round of Kaiju?"
"Class 3s, generalists, focused on property damage."
"Sounds about right."
"I love this job."
"Best in the world."
*Nationals. Rangers sponsored by a UN recognized nation-state, piloting a PPDC designed Jaeger
** Jimbos, a derogatory abbreviation of "Yojimbo" used for corporate sponsored Jaegers. Named after the first successful Corporate Jaeger, Mulberry Thirty, (created by Tanaka Brothers Holdings Limited), corporate Jaegers are infamous for high rates of attrition and lower training standards.
We should go into the Artist's Corner and be all "Man, these Jaegers sound really cool, but they're probably too difficult for you guys to draw" and then just to show us, they'll draw awesome arts of the Jaegers
Which is what we wanted all along!
I don't know, the AC people are all way too smart and talented to fall for such an obvious art grab.
No, like all artists you need to shamelessly flatter them with praise and compliments to get what you want.
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Halos Nach TariffCan you blame me?I'm too famous.Registered Userregular
A bit of an update for you good folks.
Specifically I have drawn up skill trees for your Signature Abilities so I'm just going to explain those a little bit seen as they're not in the rules proper. Hopefully it should be fairly self-explantory.
Signature Ability Upgrades
Like everything else you can upgrade a signature ability to do various different things. However, unlike everything else you cannot use Funding for this, it requires a seperate currency which I'm just going to call 'Skill Points.'
You get one Skill Point everytime you upgrade a Jaeger to a new Mark level, also, the player who I deem the best roleplayer each week will recieve a bonus Skill Point. You might also be able to get one by trying something cool, drawing me a picture or one of many other completely arbitrary criteria I decide upon.
You can spend skill point in your Signature Ability Skill Tree, which will look something like this (unless you are @Fencingsax in which case it will look exactly like this):
Hopefully it's pretty simple; your SA is at the top then there are 3 possible upgrade paths heading down in columns.
When you get your first Skill Point you can place it in any of the top three skills (in the example Honed Skill, Acid Burn and Press the Advantage.)
To use skills lower down the path than the first row you just need to put a single point in the skill directly above it.
So, say you wanted to activate 'Feint' you would first need at least one point in each of the skills above 'Honed Skill'-->'Mailbreaker'-->'Perfect Defense'
Some skills have rank levels; you can put more than one Skill Point into them to boost their effects (typically up to 3 points.) You don't need to max out a ranked skill to move down the path though, just a single point will do.
There are also some secret skills; these are typically only available once you have enough points in specific paths or skills.
If you have an idea for a skill which you think is more fitting than one of the ones of there do shout up and we can try and sort out some sort of compromise, these things are easy enough to change.
Also I apologise for the awful little icon pictures, I haven't really got access to a scanner at the moment and my tablet-work is really quite poor.
Below you'll find your individual Skill Tree's, I'm going to spoiler them to save space and in case you want to keep your skills a secret for whatever reason:
Halos Nach TariffCan you blame me?I'm too famous.Registered Userregular
I just like making tech trees really.
Oh yeah, and if anyone can't make sense of my cramped sentences in their tree or can't understand what the hell a rule is talking about just give me a shout.
It's not the highest quality stuff, I started it when I was practically dead with exhaustion, but it was good to get inside a character's head.
Ian was tired.
He had only himself to blame. An all-nighter of alcohol and Jaeger pilot groupies takes its toll, even if you’ve been doing it for the past four years. The fact that he wasn’t actually a Jaeger pilot definitely gave him the time for those kinds of benders, but the less those girls knew, the better it was for him.
It was “absolutely despicable”, as Ashkir was happy to remind him. Ian’s justification was that while he wasn’t really a Jaeger pilot, it wasn’t for lack of effort. Those four years of incredibly devoted fans and free drinks were filled with applications to the PPDC, as often as he could submit them, but they were always rejected. Outside of his close relationship with Ashkir, he ranked a historic low on the teamwork assessments. While he was a little above average when it came to fighting, and Ashkir’s ability to read Kaiju, while marking him on a special list with mysterious connotations, wasn’t enough to land the duo a spot on the program.
And so Ian wasted away his time the only way he had ever known how; with women and copious amounts of alcohol.
And so Ian was tired.
He was beginning his detox ritual of organic coffee (handpicked in the now-Kaiju ravaged Philippines) and collecting as much news about the Kaiju war as he could, when his phone rang.
He picked it up off the counter of his sleek, modern kitchen, and after sorting through the dozens of text messages and scandalous pictures that had been sent to him in the four hours he had been asleep from his friends last night, was puzzled that he continued to hear a ringing.
He realized that it wasn’t his cell phone. It was his house phone.
And there was only one person who would pick up the house phone.
He walked over, stumbling a little over his own feet as the ringing increased his pace.
“Dad?”
The main “Trumpsten Automotives” factory had always intimidated Ian a little bit. It was large and foreboding, always leaking a black fog. It had been especially industrious in its production of the foul vapor ever since the Jaeger program was underway, where just under half of all of Trumpsten’s resources went to making parts for the PPDC’s Jaegers. The irony of the company that was to be Ian’s inheritance being a major supplier to the organization that constantly turned him down was not lost on him.
He drove right up to the front gate in a sports car. He normally would have had to use his name as leverage to get away with parking in the employee lot, but there was no one around to flash his lineage at. No guards, no visitors, and, as he discovered when he reached the employee lot, the vast majority of them were gone too. The only cars that were left were ones he recognized, the ones belonging to the most loyal of his father’s workers/fellow board members. They were the ones who had been there as long as and longer than he had. Ian Trumpsten II had always prided himself on leaving decisions up to his most dedicated workers, leading to a strong bond between them that, he believed, paid dividends in the quality of his product.
As of late, the quality had been more or less irrelevant. In a world under siege by unstoppable beasts, luxury, high-end cars weren’t exactly a product in high demand. That was the reason for converting much of this factory, and many others throughout the world, into Jaeger parts manufacturers. Ian’s father had always prided himself on the warmth he felt for his fellow man, banding together in the name of all humanity, and if he could make a buck or two off of that patriotism, all the better. The problem was that converting an automotive factory into a weapons-grade arms and armor parts distributor is easier than done, let alone turning over a profit doing so. Ian knew that his birthright had been in some dire straits recently, and the phone call from his father did nothing to alleviate that concern. Dear old Dad was stoic when it came to showing emotion, so the urgent, desperate tones in which he pleaded Ian to come to the factory were incredibly troubling.
As he walked in, he noticed that for as empty as it had appeared outside, it sounded quite busy inside. The machines were running, as they always were, though there shouldn’t have been enough people to staff them. He continued on his way to the factory floor, where his father stood, facing him.
“Where is everyone?” Ian asked, looking around at the empty workstations.
His father didn’t reply, instead briskly walking down the line, towards a massive steel door that hadn’t been there when Ian had visited last.
“The company is going under, Ian.” His father said without warning as they walked together. “We simply can’t produce Jaeger parts at as high a quality or as quickly as our competitors, and cars are the only other thing we know.”
Ian stopped walking, taking on a look that could be interpreted as shock, or even pain.
“How did it happen? How could it have been so sudden that you couldn't do anything about it?” He asked, his voice cracking a little.
“It wasn’t sudden.” His father replied matter-of-factly. “I’ve known for six months. I would have liked more time, but we worked with what we had.” There were stairs on their right, leading to an observation platform. “Come now, son, we’re almost there.” Ian’s father climbed the stairs, him following closely behind.
His dad pulled out a walkie-talkie, which contrasted greatly with his nice suit. “Is it ready?” Ian didn’t hear the voice at the other end, but his father walked over to an array of buttons at the other end of the platform, hitting a few switches before turning to Ian.
“I’m sorry, son. Your grandfather built this company, and I expanded its reach exponentially, but I couldn’t save it. Your inheritance, your birthright, was destined to be another casualty of the Kaiju. But,” he paused, pressing a button which opened the large metals doors at the end of the line. “We decided that wasn’t fair. For the last six months, every cent myself and the board members saved up, every waking hour, has been devoted to making sure that if your inheritance turns to ash, it will at least take a few of the blue-blooded bastards with it.”
Ian heard his father’s words as though they were coming from the inside of a fish tank. Tears came to his eyes as they fell upon the massive metal monster before him. It was white with bright blue highlights, with a launcher of some sort on one wrist and a large tube attached to the back. It had a head that looked perpetually hooded, and eyes that looked perpetually angry.
Ian turned to his father, stammering for words, tears slowly streaming down his face.
“Don’t thank me, Ian.” His father put a hand on his shoulder. “I give you no gifts. Your grandfather built this company. I expanded it and let it down. You are going to save it. Giving you this isn’t an act of generosity, I’m simply giving you what’s yours.
“I’m giving you your inheritance.”
Etchwarts on
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
heck, I'll throw my hat in the ring w/r/t writing
"Ifyouliketogamble,ItellyouI'myourman!" Michelle sings to herself in between brushstrokes, cleaning her teeth while listening to jams. She finishes her vigorous work, spits into the sink and watches it go down the drain, then looks into the mirror while rinsing her toothbrush. She sees herself, a face made of points with blue sparks placed in the middle, framed by matte brown hair. She smiles, the canvas of her tan skin stretching and creasing in response. She wipes the water off her face and leaves the washroom, the smile now gone. Walking down the hallway, tapping the walls with her fingers, she looks 'round for her partner. "Yo, Jane! We have work to do! Disco needs a tuneup, supposed to be a kaiju coming any day now!"
Now running down the hall, she hears kinetic beats coming from her shared bedroom with Jane. The smile returns to Michelle's face. The type of music they liked might not be the same, but they both shared a love of music, period. Life wasn't worth living without it. "Give me a second, Tallon!" The sounds of EDM fades away, and Jane Walker barges through the door, pulling a black raincoat on over her shockingly orange blouse and green skirt that matched her eyes, contrasting heavily with her pale skin and blonde hair. She looked like a caricature from a kids cartoon, soft and sweet. She had a pencil balanced between her ear and her head, a clipboard in one hand and a second, bright purple raincoat in her other. Michelle spots a book on the ground behind the cracked open door, and nods at Jane. Blushing, Jane puts it on top of a large stack in their room, bookmarking the page for later. Leaving the room again, dressed and ready, she passes the extra coat to Michelle, straightens up, and gives a faux-salute to her friend.
Michelle smirks, gestures to herself, and the duo walks side by side on the way to their Jaeger, Disco Neon. The behemoth was mostly electric blue/faded teal, with hot pink highlights. Nearly 300 feet tall, shaped metal transformed from ore into a humanoid approximation that could practically jig on a good day- for both her, and her pilots. They hadn't had a chance to pilot her in weeks, and they were excited to give the German funded project another good go. The way to the Jaeger involved going outside twice, which wasn't pleasant during the rainiest time of year. Although Michelle and Jane were from opposite sides of the continent- Tallon from California, Walker from Ontario- the two couldn't be closer. Their slightly differently exaggerated personalities didn't exactly form one perfect whole so much as give two lonely people the company they needed. Jane joined the Jaeger Program out of a desire to work with the towering machines, and Michelle wanted to give the kaiju hell after Trespasser attacked San Francisco. She might not have been from any of the cities attacked by the lumbering monstrosities, but it was the principle of the thing.
Entering the Drivesuit Room, both women grin as wide as they can. The fun part was coming soon. Although they wished they could've joined the PPDC proper, they still had a chance to do good thanks to the privately owned company that commissioned the Jaeger and hired the two based on their technical and mechanical skills, and they never forgot that. Fully suited up in minutes, they stride into the Conn-Pod, and they begin the Drift.
"HLM Hydrogen Blades fully operational, Supersonic Scattercannon ready and raring to go. The 'ace in the hole' you requested is fully installed, Michelle."
"Good." The taller of the two flips a switch, and the sound system in the Jaeger buzzes on. Loud enough for them to enjoy it, calibrated so that LOCCENT audio signals took priority, beats start pounding in the Conn-Pod. Disco Neon's fists clench, then pump up into the air. Jane and Michelle's mouths both move at the same time, a shared thought: "Let's rock."
The last piece of machinery to roll out of the foundries and factories of Trumpsten Automative, it was a gift to Ian and Ashkir from Ian’s now-bankrupt father. It’s white with skyblue highlights (Trumpsten automotive’s signature colors), with two decals, each one an Ace, mirroring each other on either shoulder. It’s considerably smaller than the average Jaeger as a result of how expensive the average Jaeger is, and the fact that both Ian and Ashkir’s fighting style rely on agility first. Shepherd Trumpcard can’t take a hit, but she’s fast enough she doesn’t have to, and strong enough to hit back hard.
...
Ian heard his father’s words as though they were coming from the inside of a fish tank. Tears came to his eyes as they fell upon the massive metal monster before him. It was white with bright blue highlights, with a launcher of some sort on one wrist and a large tube attached to the back. It had a head that looked perpetually hooded, and eyes that looked perpetually angry.
Damnit @SirEtchwarts, stop giving me doodle inspiration.
Seriously, that line about the perpetually hooded head, and perpetually angry eyes...
I figured a Jaeger sized quarter staff could make it difficult to maneuver in tight quarters, so I figured a collapsible one would be more convenient.
Anyway, I'm not sure it's what you had in mind (I'd be really surprised if it was) but it's what came to my mind. Hope you don't mind.
Edit: Looking at this makes me really wish I had a drafting table. Trying to draw straight lines free hand suuucks...
The last piece of machinery to roll out of the foundries and factories of Trumpsten Automative, it was a gift to Ian and Ashkir from Ian’s now-bankrupt father. It’s white with skyblue highlights (Trumpsten automotive’s signature colors), with two decals, each one an Ace, mirroring each other on either shoulder. It’s considerably smaller than the average Jaeger as a result of how expensive the average Jaeger is, and the fact that both Ian and Ashkir’s fighting style rely on agility first. Shepherd Trumpcard can’t take a hit, but she’s fast enough she doesn’t have to, and strong enough to hit back hard.
...
Ian heard his father’s words as though they were coming from the inside of a fish tank. Tears came to his eyes as they fell upon the massive metal monster before him. It was white with bright blue highlights, with a launcher of some sort on one wrist and a large tube attached to the back. It had a head that looked perpetually hooded, and eyes that looked perpetually angry.
Damnit @SirEtchwarts, stop giving me doodle inspiration.
Seriously, that line about the perpetually hooded head, and perpetually angry eyes...
I figured a Jaeger sized quarter staff could make it difficult to maneuver in tight quarters, so I figured a collapsible one would be more convenient.
Anyway, I'm not sure it's what you had in mind (I'd be really surprised if it was) but it's what came to my mind. Hope you don't mind.
Edit: Looking at this makes me really wish I had a drafting table. Trying to draw straight lines free hand suuucks...
That art was so awesome, in fact, that it actually gave me the motivation to write a whole other thing!
It's basically a sequel to the first thing, but a Pacific Rim RPG means two characters whose heads I need to get inside of, and one of them hasn't had their say.
Ashkir fought.
If he told someone it was all he was really good at, that would be a lie. But it was definitely in the top three. And when your number one thing is “understanding Kaiju”, well, you tend to gloss over that. Unless you’re trying desperately to sign up for the PPDC, in which case you bring it up as often as possible, regardless of the fact that it’s never helped.
“It’s not you”, they would always tell him. “It’s that prick of a friend.” And he knew they were absolutely right. Ashkir was easy going. He was good at fighting. And as mentioned, he had a gift when it came to understanding Kaiju. He could tell you in a second where the weak point was and how best to exploit it, and if given a few minutes to study it, could tell you exactly what the Kaiju was thinking of doing next. This was an incredibly useful asset, but the problem was that, for whatever reason, he was never drift compatible with anyone they tried to drift him with.
His take on it was that he and Ian had a special bond that couldn’t be broken, a connection, the sort of which can only be forged in combat. This combat wasn’t against Kaiju, he sorely reminded himself as his trainer took another swing at him with a bo staff, which he swiftly ducked while countering with a jab at the knee. It appeared at the time to be a classic scenario of bullies surrounding a weak classmate to torture him at their leisure.
And if there was one thing Ashkir hated, it was a fight that wasn’t fair.
So he leapt in, hurling his mass around in large, meaty fists, taking hits that would have knocked a kid twice his age over, but it had nothing to do with his imposing physical figure.
That day was the first day he had felt a righteous fire burning in his heart.
And since K-Day, it hadn’t gone out.
And so, Ashkir fought.
While he assumed he and Ian had some sort of connection, his family and friends were convinced that he just needed more training with a bo staff to give him an edge in the Drift Compatibility Bouts.
At first he dismissed them, explaining that that wasn’t how that worked, that your skill had nothing to do with it, but after hearing that his “friend” had gone out on his 5th all-nighter with Jaeger groupies (something he thought was degrading for all involved) in as many days that week, he was inclined to try just about anything.
And, while he detested overconficence, he had to admit:
He was pretty good at it.
His trainer, a man who had seen many pupils just like him and had the furrowed brows to show it, was just about on his last legs, even if he didn’t know it. From a glance Ashkir could tell that he had broken his leg at a young age and it had never quite set right, and that he frequently felt pain in his right shoulder from a fall, or something similar. With that knowledge in mind it wasn’t long before the old man was no longer bobbing and weaving around his every blow and Ashkir had disarmed him.
The trainer was on his knees, looking at the stick directly under his chin. He raised one eyebrow and croaked “Why is it you’re not out there killing those hopped up frogs?”
Ashkir’s phone rang before he could answer. But luckily, the person calling him was the answer.
“This is why”, he said, hitting the big green button on his phone.
“Look Ian, for the last time, I don’t care how many girls you said want my number, I’m not interested.” He said in lieu of a greeting.
“You need to come down here right now, Ashkir. The old factory, get down here, you have to see this.” Ian sounded incredibly enthusiastic about something, even more so than usual.
“I’m busy, man, I don’t have time for another home-made monster truck rally-“
Ian had already hung up. It was rare to have a conversation with him over the phone at all, let alone one that he voluntarily ended without wrangling some sort of hare-brained commitment out of you first.
It was rare enough that it got Ashkir’s attention.
He found Ian’s fancy, worn car past the abandoned security checkpoints, parked haphazardly right out front. He went inside, past the secretary’s desk, his pace quickening a little as he noticed how abandoned the place was. He finally reached the factory line, running full sprint now as he heard machinery at the end of it, behind some large metal doors. He knocked, and heard a massive sound, like an asteroid knocking on the door of the core of the Earth, respond to him. The metal doors opened slowly, and he backed away out of habit, looking straight ahead.
Once he saw what he was looking at, though, his eyes immediately drifted upward.
His father was a religious man, and while Ashkir had never really made up his mind on matters of devils and angels, there were always some verses his father would read to him as a child that stood out to him.
“And the Lord said “I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the Lord, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. But, you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.””
This is the verse he was trying to speak, but it came out between deep breaths as Ashkir fell to his knees, gazing up at a face he felt unworthy to see. It looked down at him, and they made eye contact for what felt like hours.
Finally he stood up, stumbling over to where Ian’s father was standing. They had always had a good, friendly relationship, but right now Ashkir could barely reply to pleasantries.
“You…?” he managed to get out before falling into another round of quick breaths.
Ian Trumpsten II shook his head, his eyes never leaving the beast, the Jaeger, which towered before them, its unblinking visor matching their gaze and then some. It was only turning its head, however, which led Ashkir to believe that Ian was inside of it, and that it was mostly turned off so that he didn't suffer a neural overload.
“No. I didn’t do anything for you, or anything for Ian. This isn’t a gift I give you. This is a favor I ask you.” Now he turned to Ashkir directly. “You and my son have always kept each other safe, always protected one another. Because of my own foolish ways, this is the only path left to him, and so I ask you, plead with you, please follow him down it. There is no one I would trust more with my son’s life, and I would hope the feeling is mutual.”
Ashkir’s head was swimming. This was all some sort of crazy dream, the old man with the bo staff had knocked him unconscious and he was lying on the training mat. He would wake up any second, so there was no need to do anything stup-
“I’ll do it.” He said confidently. They were the stupidest three words he had ever spoken in his life, but they were the only three words that felt right.
After all, if there was one thing Ashkir hated, it was a fight that wasn't fair.
Etchwarts on
+3
FencingsaxIt is difficult to get a man to understand, when his salary depends upon his not understandingGNU Terry PratchettRegistered Userregular
edited October 2013
"Oh come on, it'll be fun!" Xiang encouraged her partner. Bridgette's eyebrows spoke volumes. In fact, Bridgette's eyebrows spoke more often than her mouth. Xiang had long ago learned to translate Bridgette-face into actual speech. Being inside her head had helped immensely. "They want us to meet the other parts of the new Jaeger force, it'll be awesome. My sister told me that the engineering crews are ready for action and hungry for kaiju! The techs and lab rats are working themselves into tizzies all over the place. The bots themselves are apparently from all over. Most of them are privates, but apparently there's at least one from the Marshals". Xiang decided to start a proper conversation with her copilot. "Apparently most of them are crushers, so we might be more useful if we hung back and gave supporting fire"
"No. We are needed where we can do the most damage. And doing the most damage is what we do. Remember, we are not just the tip of the spear-"
"We are the shield that breaks the tide. Yeah, I know. It's a lovely little speech. But we need to show off all of the components of our lovely little-" Another eyebrow twitch from Bridgette "-giant robot. You know how the suits are. "Walking advertisement, model of the conglomerate, blah, blah, blah""
"A better advertisement is a kaiju head on our drill."
"Hm. Maybe next time I should let you talk to the bossmen by yourself. You do have a way with words"
Bridgette just stared at her. The last time she had been the one to do the talking, a shouting match between her and several of the corporate officers had ended....not well. A smile appears, faintly and then just as quickly melts away. "I would rather face 3 kaiju together than another one of those terrible meetings alone"
"Now that we can both agree on"
Fencingsax on
+2
FaranguI am a beardy manWith a beardy planRegistered Userregular
edited October 2013
"Mr. McMahon! Mr. McMahon!"
The cries for Vince's name seemed to come from the lips of every reporter. He must be loving this, Dustin thought to himself. Sitting with his boss and his long-time partner at the head table of this press conference, though, led to some of Vince's excitement about the project transferring to him. He was thankful that the tablecloth hid his anxiously moving feet.
Dustin and Bill had done everything there was to do in the WWE. Tremendous storied careers, accolades, guaranteed spots in the Hall of Fame. Despite all that, it still threw him for a loop when Vince first brought the idea to Bill and himself. Take two aging athletes, throw them into the biggest arena of their lives for the sake of all mankind against giant monsters...Dustin thought that his long-time employer had finally lost it. But Bill got those stars in his eyes, the ones that convinced Dustin to follow the big oaf into this career in the first place, and he knew that was that. Plus, the money being thrown his way certainly wouldn't hurt...
"And now I announce to you the pilots of Fission Hercules: Dustin Clements and William Nevin, or as we know them in the WWE, Pickaxe and Dynamite!" And with that, the duo were thrust into the world's stage once again.
One reporter managed to get her voice heard after the initial hubbub. "Mr. Nevin! Given the age of yourself and Mr. Clements compared to the rest of the Jaeger pilots, and the strict qualifications of the PPDC Rangers, do you think that you two are up to the task of defending Earth?"
Dustin cursed inwardly, hoping that after Bill spoke in public, the rest of the questions would be directed towards him.
"Well, lil' missy, I know that Dusty an' I ain't the sharpest knives in th' drawer, but when it comes down t'it, this ain't much more than beatin' the everlovin' PISS outta whatever's 'cross frim us. And that's somethin I'm PRETTY keen on continuin' t' do."
Dustin's wish was granted.
"Mr. Clements! Given the...history of your employer and his tendency towards promotional, extravagant fiascos, how can we look at your recent endeavour as anything other than a flash in the pan money grab from Mr. McMahon?"
Man, 20 years later, facing annhiliation from giant alien monsters, and he STILL gets the XFL thrown in his face. Indeed, Dustin saw, from the corner of his eye, the slightest of flinches on Vince's face when the word 'fiasco' hit the air. After allowing him the momentary relief of seeing any kind of weakness in his employer, he composed himself and began.
"Sir, I'm aware of Mr. McMahon's history. More acutely than you, I'd expect. So believe me when I say that my first reaction to this initiative was to say no. But after my kneejerk reaction, I gave it some thought. There are more and more Kaiju coming here by the month. While the PPDC is giving it their all, there might come a time when it isn't enough. They might need whatever help they can get. So yes, this project was probably born out of a desire to be some big, showy camapign for one man's business. But it put together a Jaeger that'll be used to defend ourselves. That's not something just any group can do. And we all say we'd like to live in a world where we don't have the need for these tools, don't need to protect our very way of life. But that's not our world. People say that the Kaiju brought with them a terror-filled existence, the end of everything as we knew it.
Bill and I say that they brought a world where the ends justify the means. And if that's enough of a reason for us to strap ourselves into this thing and fight demons, I'd wager it's enough for you right now."
Please note that @DaMoonRulz gave me the liberty to write this, and that he doesn't necesarrily talk like this.
Halos Nach TariffCan you blame me?I'm too famous.Registered Userregular
Alright, lets try and get this thing started.
I still haven't heard from @Gatsby but I don't want to keep the rest of you waiting around for one person so he'll just have to catch up later. The Aegis Jaeger Defense Initative is looking for Jaeger pilots to shore up their fresh new defense program.
Do you have what it takes to protect the world?
No prior experience required, Jaegers can be provided if necessary, all welcome to apply...
You can still remember the advertisement, it seemed so strange to see a request like that on the vacancy postings, but Aegis has a solid track record and some top-notch pilots working for them, if it's a scam it's a well-researched one.
So you responded, answered the questionnaires, sat the interviews and now. Now your Jaeger is being fitted proudly into the Aegis hangar, your dreams and goals of fighting off mankinds greatest threat is about to become reality.
Although not right now, right now you find yourself sat in a typically uncomfortable plastic chair in a waiting room you can only describe as 'wholly generic.' The walls are painted a dirty cream and there is a low table of out-of-date magazines in one corner. One wall has a large brushed metal emblem, a stylised A in the shape of a shield, pinned to it. Below that is a cheap wooden desk with a bored-looking receptionist sat behind it.
Yourself and the other Jaeger pilots competant enough to make it through the vetting process are sat in this small room awaiting a briefing from the head of Aegis, and your soon-to-be Marshall. Seems like she's running late however.
So, you know, this is the typical, 'you all meet in a tavern' scene. Feel free to chat between your characters, you've never met before and will presumedly be working closely with one another in the future.
If you've got any questions about the setting, particularly knowledge you think your characters should possess but I haven't mentioned, then please do say.
There's no particular reason for your characters to be involved in this scene, however, I can't begrudge you if you want to start playing with everyone else. So if you want to wander in under some pretense to check out the new recruits that's no problem, could probably stick a one-way mirror in to watch through if you want.
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
Jane flips through another magazine for the fifth time, catching something she missed the other four times.
Michelle rocks her chair back and forth, tapping her feet, drumming the sides of her legs with her hands. Eventually, she spots Jane. "Hola. The name's Michelle, como se llama usted?"
"Errr... My name is Jane. Jane Walker, from Ottawa. I take it that you are my co-pilot?"
Michelle beams. "Hell yeah, I am! Gonna kick some kaiju ass, it'll be great! How about you, Jane, you excited?"
"Well, I am reasonably excited to get into the Conn-Pod of a Jaeger. I have admired them since childhood." Jane looks down, embarassed. "I...I tried making a Conn-Pod when I was twelve. Stupid, I know, but I loved -love- machinery."
"Haha, right on! How successful were you, then? I take it you saw pictures to look at and base your design on, and there's gotta be a reason you were picked."
"Not very. But I wanted to be around Jaegers, and I never gave up."
Michelle raises her hand in response to that remark, and Jane slaps it with all her might. The echoing sound of the clap resounds like thunder through the room.
The slap makes Ian and Ashkir jolt a little in their seat. They had both been nodding off, jetlag setting in after a long flight.
"So."
"So."
"We sure are living the life here, Ashkir."
"Absolutely, old chum. Defending humanity from the scourge of..." Ashkir turned to his right, grabbing a magazine from the pile to his right, "a three month old issue of Seventeen"
"Oh my God, are you right. The world needs our incredible specialized defense against the '20 Hottest Jaeger Boys of All Time' feature." Ian reads from the cover in a mocking tone.
Ashkir flips through it. "Wow, some of these rankings are so bad that they might actually secretly be Kaiju in disguise. Young Stacker Pentecost isn't even in the top 10!"
"Am I on that list anywhere?" Ian asks, only kind of joking.
"We're both an honorable mention."
Ian sits up, raising an eyebrow. "You're kidding me."
Ashkir flips to the appropriate page and begins to read aloud. "'Ian Trumpsten (the 3rd!) has always been a hottie, but he kicked it up a notch when he announced that he was going to pilot a homemade Jaeger (and look good doing it too!) late last month. The Shepherd Trumpcard Introduction tour showed everyone how good he looked in a conn-pod suit, but it also introduced us to his friend, Ashkir Jenkins, who's definitely the strong, silent type. They compliment each other and make for one hunky pairing, but they're so new to the scene that we here at Seventeen hesitate to throw them on this list. Maybe the next one!'"
"You're the strong, silent type?" Ian asks, chuckling a little. "Last I checked it was hard to get you to shut up once you were onto a string of puns."
"Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly a media darling on our little worldwide Jaeger parade. And even if I had been, it would have been hard getting a word in edgewise in interviews with you-oh my god."
Ashkir flips excitedly through the magazine, finally finding the page he's looking for. He lets out a low cackle as he shows it to Ian.
The title of the article reads "Drift Compatibility Test: Could you and your BFF pilot a Jaeger?"
Ian and Ashkir make eye contact and simultaneously nod, laughing.
They read aloud the questions:
"Question 1: You and your bestie are going out on the town. What do you wear?
A) Whatever I want Something to impress her
C) Something casual. She's my best friend!
D) Matching shirts with each other's names on them."
"It's got to be D, right?" Ian suggests.
"Man, I don't want you trying to put my name on a t-shirt. You can barely spell your own boring name, let alone mine."
"Boring? Know a lot of guys with 'the 3rd' as their last name, do you?"
"You remember where we went to school? I knew guys who would see your '3rd' and double it."
"That's a good point. So shall we go with E) Nothing at all, clothes are for poor people?"
Ashkir chuckles, shaking his head. "Sure, why not?"
They continue in this manner for the next two dozen questions.
Etchwarts on
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FaranguI am a beardy manWith a beardy planRegistered Userregular
Dustin was secretly happy that Vince had allowed Bill and him to wear street clothes to this, instead of their costumes. He felt that it would have added an extra layer of absurdity to the fact that this was the front office to the second-best hope of helping to keep the world safe. He was aiming to just keep to himself until the Marshall came back.
Two men sit at a small table in the waiting area. One, powerfully built, stocky, glances around the room, his gaze lingering briefly on each of the women in turn. The other, thinner, taller and seemingly engrossed in reading an after action report and kaiju bio-analysis glances up and sighs deeply. He knows what's about happen, and knows that what's coming is inevitable. But, ever one to fight impossible odds, Ben decides to try and save Shane from himself.
"Don't do it Shane. These aren't Jaeger groupies like you're used to. Piloting a 8000 ton robot isn't going to score you points when everybody in the room can check the same box on their resume. You go over there with your usual shtick, you're likely to come back broken. And if you get broken, we can't pilot Cyc. And if we can't pilot, I'm never going to collect the first hand observations I need to get published.
"Yeah, whatever. You keep your nose in the book and let me know where to punch the next thing that crawls out of the deep end. While you're busy doing that, I've got some time and some new people who haven't heard about the time I threw four touchdown passes in a single game... I had college offers after that you know
"Let me interrupt, because I'm pretty sure I can tell it just as well as you by now. 'I could have gone to college. Recruiters threw full ride scholarships wrapped around giggling cheerleaders and cheap beer at me. I was hounded night and day by coaches convinced I was going to be the next big name, and then I jacked my knee up being a dumbass trying to impress some random chick with a smartphone and a nice rack, so I took over my dad's garage and ran his business into the ground instead'. Am I close Shane?
"You can be a real bastard, K-head. It wasn't my fault the garage went under. After Trumpsten went full J-pro, we couldn't get replacement parts for love or money to work on the high end cars that we specialized in. It didn't matter that the whales driving them had the cash, the parts simply didn't exist. But you try telling some billionaire trust funder that his favorite toy isn't getting fixed and see how that works out for you.
"Okay, I know, that was a cheap shot, and I apologize. But my point still stands. You try your usual blunt force wooing tactics here, and you're going to regret it.
"Shane drops his hand on the table with a thump that's audible throughout the room and stands up. Leaning close to Ben his mouth twitches up into a roguish smile. With a quiet "We'll see." Shane winks and turns towards the nearest woman in the room.
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chiasaur11Never doubt a raccoon.Do you think it's trademarked?Registered Userregular
The door to the room opened and a man in a labcoat stepped through.
"Right. Um, you're the Jaeger pilot candidates, right? Oh, wow. Shelley is not going to... those are actually pro wrestlers. Wow. Guess that's one bet won! Err..."
He cleared his throat and continued.
"Uh, hello. I'm Doctor honorary doctorate only Jonathan Morgan, co-head of the Kaiju science team here at Aegis. We'll, that is, well, heh, those of you who survive longer than a week will, heh, get to know each other pretty well in the near future. So, if you have any questions, or maybe some... oh, hey! Ben! Wow, didn't know we were getting interns, too. They said you guys weren't in the budget or something. This is great! Just, uh, I call dibs, to be clear, if Shelley asks. I have dibs on interns. And a 30% lower workplace injury rate, so it's not like you're losing out."
Jonathan looked around the room again.
"Aaaand, that's about it for the opening statements. Any questions?"
AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
Michelle raises her hand. "How big should we expect them to be, and how soon can we punch their heads off?"
Jane gently lowers Michelle's hand. Raising her own, she inquires, "How much say did we actually get in our Jaegers? I saw a comment made by my partner that she wanted a fast-"
"I wanted something that could dance, little lady."
Jane blushes. "Yes. I am just curious about paint, weapon armaments, names, and so on."
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chiasaur11Never doubt a raccoon.Do you think it's trademarked?Registered Userregular
"Right. Kaiju. Well, the largest on record is still Slattern at 596 feet back during the first triple event, but they're getting nearer 350, 400 feet for the average now. They're really stepping things up. If you compared the modern ones to Tresspasser, well, there's some impressive refinement there."
He smiled for a second, lost in thought.
"Also, I'm pretty sure you want to talk with the Marshall about that. Remember to call her Marshall a lot. She loves that."
Ian raises his hand, a goofy smile on his face. "So why did we even have the drift compatibility tests when this has been out for months?" He shows the entire room the test in Seventeen magazine, laughing hysterically.
Ashkir was laughing with him, but he eventually calms down, wiping tears away from his eyes.
"I actually have a good one. Our Jaeger checked out, right? Up to Aegis' standards?"
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AntimatterDevo Was RightGates of SteelRegistered Userregular
Jane nods. "Yessir."
Michelle cracks her neck. "Excellent. Bigger they are..." The beanpole of a Ranger cracks her knuckles for emphasis. "The more fun they'll be to wreck and ruin. Far as I'm concerned, we still owe those metaphorical sons of bitches for San Francisco."
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chiasaur11Never doubt a raccoon.Do you think it's trademarked?Registered Userregular
Ian raises his hand, a goofy smile on his face. "So why did we even have the drift compatibility tests when this has been out for months?" He shows the entire room the test in Seventeen magazine, laughing hysterically.
Ashkir was laughing with him, but he eventually calms down, wiping tears away from his eyes.
"I actually have a good one. Our Jaeger checked out, right? Up to Aegis' standards?"
"Well, you know. The Seventeen tests are proprietary, and Aegis's compatibility budget just can't afford the fines. And err, yes. For a broad enough definition of 'standards.' You met all of them."
Posts
I don't mind too much if they're combat based but yours are fairly powerful considering trait bonuses are always 'turned on' as it were.
Your weight stat there should be 2 I think, not 0.
Apart from that everything else looks fine to me.
I've done everyone a rough Signature Ability upgrade chart tree thing apart from @Gatsby, who I've yet to hear from.
I just need to pretty them up some and format them to be readable by humans and then I think we'll be ready to try playing this thing maybe.
Stat Block
Strength 3
Agility 2
Resilience 2
Mind 1
Major Trait: Bruiser (Any problem can be solved by the application of sufficient force, the more up close and personal the better)
A failed skill check using Mind will be rerolled using the Strength stat in place of Mind (IE: Negotiating for material or picking a lock may ordinarily use the Mind stat to represent the intellectual nature of the task. For Shane, he may attempt to physically intimidate the other party, or simply break the lock) using this trait will have negative repercussions in some cases where even a success using Strength may result in a failure to achieve positive results as decided by the GM (IE: Hacking a computer).
Minor Trait: Jock, Gear Head, Over Protective, “Ladies man”
Name: Benjamin Reilly
Stat Block
Strength 1
Agility 1
Resilience 2
Mind 4
Major Trait: Kaiju Groupie (seeks to understand the Kaiju and origin in order to fight them more effectively)
Ben gains an additional +2 bonus to skill checks relating to Kaiju as well as the bonus from a related stat. For example: negotiating selling cost for Kaiju organs (You call this fresh spleen? It’s been in that jar since Onibaba went down, now… what I’ve got to offer you is the good stuff…), evaluating the reliability of Kaiju bunkers, etc... His tendency to talk at length about his favorite subject however inflicts a -1 penalty in any social situation not directly related to Kaiju.
Minor Trait: Sci-fi Nerd, Bookworm, Tech head, Recreational Researcher, Introvert, Paranoid
Neural Bridge Synergy: Precision Strike
By observing a Kaiju in action and comparing it to previous incursions Benjamin is able to recognize some details about its anatomy; this allows them to determine where a melee or ranged attack should be directed for maximum effectiveness and communicate the vulnerability to any allied jaegers if so desired. A successful attack using this information will remove any bonuses the Kaiju had accrued from previous Weakness Exploit attacks as the information reveals a previously unnoticed weakness to target.
History:
Both crewmembers hail from San Francisco, born in the same year and growing up in the same area, Benjamin and Shane attended the same schools for most of their lives. They had many of the same classes and, for the vast majority of their shared scholastic career; Shane made Ben’s life a living hell. Athletically gifted, outgoing and popular, Shane harassed Benjamin relentlessly for his studious leanings and generally anti-social behavior. For his part, Ben ignored or avoided his tormentor as much as possible, spending free periods in the library or in front of his computer, taking advanced courses that interested him and counting down the days until graduation. Had the world not changed, that would likely have been the last they saw of each other in any real capacity. Ben went onto a prestigious college to continue his education, and Shane took a position managing his family’s garage.
But the world did change, and the city they had grown up in was destroyed by Trespasser a little over a year past graduation. AS time passed and the Jaeger program moved into full swing both men eventually applied for positions. Ben took a research position learning about the alien creatures that were rampaging across the planet, and Shane turned his mechanical skill towards maintaining the only weapons that could save the planet. Still, it was unlikely that the two would ever meet, had not a mistyped SQL query from one of the Commercial Corps dredged their shared past out of a PPDC database and flagged them as potentially drift compatible.
If the two had been surprised when summoned to a shatterdome for Drift Compatibility testing, it was nothing compared to learning that they actually were drift compatible. Drifting through each other’s memories has shown them both the other side of their childhood relationship. While they don’t talk about it to others, this understanding has changed both of them and given them a bond that only a Jaeger pilot could understand. Ben typically speaks for the pair with almost unconscious sarcasm. And Shane is ready, willing, and entirely too eager to answer any perceived slight to himself or his partner with a closed fist.
Appearance:
Ben is average height, though being rather thin leaves people the impression of being taller then he actually is. He tends toward unkempt hair and a short, poorly maintained beard. He often shows up for duty looking sleepless after long hours spent assisting in the Kaiju research facility.
Shane is shorter than average with a heavy set, bulky build that speaks of considerable strength. He’s often found among the Jaeger tech crews, offering assistance with whatever is needed. He’s a good hand with a welding torch or a wrench, though he avoids the more technological components. His work in the jaeger garage leaves his clothes and hands consistently grease stained.
Jaeger: Cyclopean Junket
Mk: I (10 pts)
Strength: 4
Armor: 3
Agility: 0
Firepower: 0
Power: 3 (+1)
Weight: 3
Bonuses: +2 melee damage, -3 Movement
Qualities:
As the name implies, Cyclopean Junket is a slow moving, graceless titan, intended to be devastating in melee combat and designed to trade blows while focusing on landing a devastating hit or combo. The Jaeger suffers from slow movement and a lack of effective long ranged combat ability. It relies on ideal positioning before a battle to insure that it’s in the proper place to engage the oncoming kaiju.
Weaponry:
Flame Mace
Range: Melee
Special Effect: Napalm - Affected Kaiju takes 1d4 damage a turn for the next 2 turns.
The primary weapon of Cyclopean Junket, the Flame Mace is a massive blunt instrument that emits a torrent of burning napalm on a successful hit. This weapon was originally designed to attempt to cauterize the wound and minimize the impact of Kaiju Blue on the surrounding environment. If the blow was not enough to finish the Kaiju, the napalm will continue dealing minor amounts of for a short time after the blow. The damage done by the burning napalm to the environment is generally considered preferable to large quantities of kaiju blood, but this feature can be deactivated for city use or in other largely combustible areas.
Blazing Bracers
Range: Melee
Special Effect: Incendiary - Deal 1 additional point of HP damage for every point the offensive roll beats the defensive roll.
Intended as a secondary weapon to the Flame Mace, the large, armored housing that make up much of Cyclopean Junket’s forearm hold an array of powerful chemical rockets. Instead of being used to propel the arms forward to increase punching power however, they’re mounted in the front of the housing above the fist, and several are engaged immediately after landing a punch, adding high temperature burns to a successful blow. While an identical system is mounted above each wrist, only one can activate at a time. Attempting to activate both will explosively interfere with the operation of the Flame Mace.
Auxiliary systems:
Heavy Boot: Utilizes a localized gravity field to temporarily enhance the Jaegers mass, rooting it to the ground and insuring rock solid footing while engaging a Kaiju.
Effect: The jaeger’s Weight score is added to all defensive Grapple and Trip checks while this system is active, at the cost of 1” movement when activated and a 1” penalty to each additional movement die rolled while the system is active.
Signature Ability:
Juggernaut Rush:
Cyclopean Junket pushes its systems well past the redline and charges at the targeted Kaiju in an attempt to force it into a headlock and then deliver a punishing blow.
Effect: Cyclopean Junket charges the targeted Kaiju, moving up to twice its current free movement speed (6” Normally, 4” when Heavy Boot is active). If Cyclopean Junket reaches melee range with a Kaiju, it makes a grapple attempt; if the grapple is successful Cyclopean Junket can make one Free Attack (2D10+any appropriate bonuese) versus the target. During the grapple check, the targeted Kaiju’s strength modifier is ignored.
(Although I think your Weight should be 3? (Agility-Armour) unless I'm missing something somewhere)
Speaking of which I actively encourage folks to draw their jaegers/characters/scenes/whatever. There will probably be bonus experience or something for it. And certainly sucking up the GM will never be a bad plan.
If you don't think you can draw well enough that's cool, give it a go anyway, any effort is fine by me.
If you reaaaallly think you can't draw than I guess I could probably be appeased by works of creative writing, musical compositions or really anything else of a creative vein you want to share.
I will do horrible, horrible things for bonus XP.
(Not illustration, though. I won't cause others that kind of pain.)
"Good. Because I think the Marshall wouldn't want us to steal... okay, the Marshall wouldn't want us committing grand theft at all."
"Hey, it isn't stealing if..."
"If?"
"It isn't stealing if... okay, it's totally stealing. But come on. It's not like they were going to use it."
"I don't know, Shelley."
"We'll give them some of the the money from the Nobel."
"If we get the Nobel."
"Not if, Johnny. When."
Shelley nudged a concealed panel. The wall rotated away to reveal the Shatterdome's secondary research lab. Jonathan placed a box near a large terrarium and connected the hatches. A kaiju skin parasite crawled from the box into the larger holding cell.
"Aww. Who's a good little test subject? You are! Probably."
Shelley nodded.
"And if anyone asks, it was always there. We just need to get the story straight before the new rangers arrive."
"How many this time?"
"One team of nats* and a ton of 'jimbos.**"
"Well, at least we won't have to remember their names for long."
Shelley raised her hand. Jonathon tossed her a screwdriver without looking.
"Anything good in the new Jaegers?"
"Standard production. Cheap but distinct, since the impressive specialists tend to get trashed after a few rounds. Yet, somehow, Shatterdome Command won't believe the Kaiju are designed to counter Jaegers."
"I accept that K-Hunter theory is a fringe belief. History will validate us."
"Fringe? You believe it. I believe it. Newt Geiszler believes it. That's the three top minds in K-science, right there. Who else could they want?"
"Someone who isn't listed as a mad scientist in the annual performance evaluations?"
"Oh, right. Point."
The lab fell silent.
"So, any bets on the next round of Kaiju?"
"Class 3s, generalists, focused on property damage."
"Sounds about right."
"I love this job."
"Best in the world."
*Nationals. Rangers sponsored by a UN recognized nation-state, piloting a PPDC designed Jaeger
** Jimbos, a derogatory abbreviation of "Yojimbo" used for corporate sponsored Jaegers. Named after the first successful Corporate Jaeger, Mulberry Thirty, (created by Tanaka Brothers Holdings Limited), corporate Jaegers are infamous for high rates of attrition and lower training standards.
Why I fear the ocean.
I don't have anything yet, but I have an idea, and I'll try and have it typed up and posted tomorrow.
I don't know, the AC people are all way too smart and talented to fall for such an obvious art grab.
No, like all artists you need to shamelessly flatter them with praise and compliments to get what you want.
Specifically I have drawn up skill trees for your Signature Abilities so I'm just going to explain those a little bit seen as they're not in the rules proper. Hopefully it should be fairly self-explantory.
Signature Ability Upgrades
Like everything else you can upgrade a signature ability to do various different things. However, unlike everything else you cannot use Funding for this, it requires a seperate currency which I'm just going to call 'Skill Points.'
You get one Skill Point everytime you upgrade a Jaeger to a new Mark level, also, the player who I deem the best roleplayer each week will recieve a bonus Skill Point. You might also be able to get one by trying something cool, drawing me a picture or one of many other completely arbitrary criteria I decide upon.
You can spend skill point in your Signature Ability Skill Tree, which will look something like this (unless you are @Fencingsax in which case it will look exactly like this):
Hopefully it's pretty simple; your SA is at the top then there are 3 possible upgrade paths heading down in columns.
When you get your first Skill Point you can place it in any of the top three skills (in the example Honed Skill, Acid Burn and Press the Advantage.)
To use skills lower down the path than the first row you just need to put a single point in the skill directly above it.
So, say you wanted to activate 'Feint' you would first need at least one point in each of the skills above 'Honed Skill'-->'Mailbreaker'-->'Perfect Defense'
Some skills have rank levels; you can put more than one Skill Point into them to boost their effects (typically up to 3 points.) You don't need to max out a ranked skill to move down the path though, just a single point will do.
There are also some secret skills; these are typically only available once you have enough points in specific paths or skills.
If you have an idea for a skill which you think is more fitting than one of the ones of there do shout up and we can try and sort out some sort of compromise, these things are easy enough to change.
Also I apologise for the awful little icon pictures, I haven't really got access to a scanner at the moment and my tablet-work is really quite poor.
Below you'll find your individual Skill Tree's, I'm going to spoiler them to save space and in case you want to keep your skills a secret for whatever reason:
Meteor Cataphract @Fencingsax
Sheperd Trumpcard @SirEtchwarts
Disco Neon @Antimatter
Fission Hercules @DaMoonRulz @Farangu
Cyclopean Junket @see317
@Gatsby I haven't done you one yet because I still don't know how your Signature Ability works!
i am like.....the most eager spectator here ever though
Registered just for the Mass Effect threads | Steam: click ^^^ | Origin: curlyhairedboy
Chicago Megagame group
Watch me struggle to learn streaming! Point and laugh!
I was just thinking "Man, I sure wish I had made my signature ability some sort of vault!"
Gonna spec into that last tech tree so hard
Oh yeah, and if anyone can't make sense of my cramped sentences in their tree or can't understand what the hell a rule is talking about just give me a shout.
It's not the highest quality stuff, I started it when I was practically dead with exhaustion, but it was good to get inside a character's head.
He had only himself to blame. An all-nighter of alcohol and Jaeger pilot groupies takes its toll, even if you’ve been doing it for the past four years. The fact that he wasn’t actually a Jaeger pilot definitely gave him the time for those kinds of benders, but the less those girls knew, the better it was for him.
It was “absolutely despicable”, as Ashkir was happy to remind him. Ian’s justification was that while he wasn’t really a Jaeger pilot, it wasn’t for lack of effort. Those four years of incredibly devoted fans and free drinks were filled with applications to the PPDC, as often as he could submit them, but they were always rejected. Outside of his close relationship with Ashkir, he ranked a historic low on the teamwork assessments. While he was a little above average when it came to fighting, and Ashkir’s ability to read Kaiju, while marking him on a special list with mysterious connotations, wasn’t enough to land the duo a spot on the program.
And so Ian wasted away his time the only way he had ever known how; with women and copious amounts of alcohol.
And so Ian was tired.
He was beginning his detox ritual of organic coffee (handpicked in the now-Kaiju ravaged Philippines) and collecting as much news about the Kaiju war as he could, when his phone rang.
He picked it up off the counter of his sleek, modern kitchen, and after sorting through the dozens of text messages and scandalous pictures that had been sent to him in the four hours he had been asleep from his friends last night, was puzzled that he continued to hear a ringing.
He realized that it wasn’t his cell phone. It was his house phone.
And there was only one person who would pick up the house phone.
He walked over, stumbling a little over his own feet as the ringing increased his pace.
“Dad?”
The main “Trumpsten Automotives” factory had always intimidated Ian a little bit. It was large and foreboding, always leaking a black fog. It had been especially industrious in its production of the foul vapor ever since the Jaeger program was underway, where just under half of all of Trumpsten’s resources went to making parts for the PPDC’s Jaegers. The irony of the company that was to be Ian’s inheritance being a major supplier to the organization that constantly turned him down was not lost on him.
He drove right up to the front gate in a sports car. He normally would have had to use his name as leverage to get away with parking in the employee lot, but there was no one around to flash his lineage at. No guards, no visitors, and, as he discovered when he reached the employee lot, the vast majority of them were gone too. The only cars that were left were ones he recognized, the ones belonging to the most loyal of his father’s workers/fellow board members. They were the ones who had been there as long as and longer than he had. Ian Trumpsten II had always prided himself on leaving decisions up to his most dedicated workers, leading to a strong bond between them that, he believed, paid dividends in the quality of his product.
As of late, the quality had been more or less irrelevant. In a world under siege by unstoppable beasts, luxury, high-end cars weren’t exactly a product in high demand. That was the reason for converting much of this factory, and many others throughout the world, into Jaeger parts manufacturers. Ian’s father had always prided himself on the warmth he felt for his fellow man, banding together in the name of all humanity, and if he could make a buck or two off of that patriotism, all the better. The problem was that converting an automotive factory into a weapons-grade arms and armor parts distributor is easier than done, let alone turning over a profit doing so. Ian knew that his birthright had been in some dire straits recently, and the phone call from his father did nothing to alleviate that concern. Dear old Dad was stoic when it came to showing emotion, so the urgent, desperate tones in which he pleaded Ian to come to the factory were incredibly troubling.
As he walked in, he noticed that for as empty as it had appeared outside, it sounded quite busy inside. The machines were running, as they always were, though there shouldn’t have been enough people to staff them. He continued on his way to the factory floor, where his father stood, facing him.
“Where is everyone?” Ian asked, looking around at the empty workstations.
His father didn’t reply, instead briskly walking down the line, towards a massive steel door that hadn’t been there when Ian had visited last.
“The company is going under, Ian.” His father said without warning as they walked together. “We simply can’t produce Jaeger parts at as high a quality or as quickly as our competitors, and cars are the only other thing we know.”
Ian stopped walking, taking on a look that could be interpreted as shock, or even pain.
“How did it happen? How could it have been so sudden that you couldn't do anything about it?” He asked, his voice cracking a little.
“It wasn’t sudden.” His father replied matter-of-factly. “I’ve known for six months. I would have liked more time, but we worked with what we had.” There were stairs on their right, leading to an observation platform. “Come now, son, we’re almost there.” Ian’s father climbed the stairs, him following closely behind.
His dad pulled out a walkie-talkie, which contrasted greatly with his nice suit. “Is it ready?” Ian didn’t hear the voice at the other end, but his father walked over to an array of buttons at the other end of the platform, hitting a few switches before turning to Ian.
“I’m sorry, son. Your grandfather built this company, and I expanded its reach exponentially, but I couldn’t save it. Your inheritance, your birthright, was destined to be another casualty of the Kaiju. But,” he paused, pressing a button which opened the large metals doors at the end of the line. “We decided that wasn’t fair. For the last six months, every cent myself and the board members saved up, every waking hour, has been devoted to making sure that if your inheritance turns to ash, it will at least take a few of the blue-blooded bastards with it.”
Ian heard his father’s words as though they were coming from the inside of a fish tank. Tears came to his eyes as they fell upon the massive metal monster before him. It was white with bright blue highlights, with a launcher of some sort on one wrist and a large tube attached to the back. It had a head that looked perpetually hooded, and eyes that looked perpetually angry.
Ian turned to his father, stammering for words, tears slowly streaming down his face.
“Don’t thank me, Ian.” His father put a hand on his shoulder. “I give you no gifts. Your grandfather built this company. I expanded it and let it down. You are going to save it. Giving you this isn’t an act of generosity, I’m simply giving you what’s yours.
“I’m giving you your inheritance.”
Now running down the hall, she hears kinetic beats coming from her shared bedroom with Jane. The smile returns to Michelle's face. The type of music they liked might not be the same, but they both shared a love of music, period. Life wasn't worth living without it. "Give me a second, Tallon!" The sounds of EDM fades away, and Jane Walker barges through the door, pulling a black raincoat on over her shockingly orange blouse and green skirt that matched her eyes, contrasting heavily with her pale skin and blonde hair. She looked like a caricature from a kids cartoon, soft and sweet. She had a pencil balanced between her ear and her head, a clipboard in one hand and a second, bright purple raincoat in her other. Michelle spots a book on the ground behind the cracked open door, and nods at Jane. Blushing, Jane puts it on top of a large stack in their room, bookmarking the page for later. Leaving the room again, dressed and ready, she passes the extra coat to Michelle, straightens up, and gives a faux-salute to her friend.
Michelle smirks, gestures to herself, and the duo walks side by side on the way to their Jaeger, Disco Neon. The behemoth was mostly electric blue/faded teal, with hot pink highlights. Nearly 300 feet tall, shaped metal transformed from ore into a humanoid approximation that could practically jig on a good day- for both her, and her pilots. They hadn't had a chance to pilot her in weeks, and they were excited to give the German funded project another good go. The way to the Jaeger involved going outside twice, which wasn't pleasant during the rainiest time of year. Although Michelle and Jane were from opposite sides of the continent- Tallon from California, Walker from Ontario- the two couldn't be closer. Their slightly differently exaggerated personalities didn't exactly form one perfect whole so much as give two lonely people the company they needed. Jane joined the Jaeger Program out of a desire to work with the towering machines, and Michelle wanted to give the kaiju hell after Trespasser attacked San Francisco. She might not have been from any of the cities attacked by the lumbering monstrosities, but it was the principle of the thing.
Entering the Drivesuit Room, both women grin as wide as they can. The fun part was coming soon. Although they wished they could've joined the PPDC proper, they still had a chance to do good thanks to the privately owned company that commissioned the Jaeger and hired the two based on their technical and mechanical skills, and they never forgot that. Fully suited up in minutes, they stride into the Conn-Pod, and they begin the Drift.
"HLM Hydrogen Blades fully operational, Supersonic Scattercannon ready and raring to go. The 'ace in the hole' you requested is fully installed, Michelle."
"Good." The taller of the two flips a switch, and the sound system in the Jaeger buzzes on. Loud enough for them to enjoy it, calibrated so that LOCCENT audio signals took priority, beats start pounding in the Conn-Pod. Disco Neon's fists clench, then pump up into the air. Jane and Michelle's mouths both move at the same time, a shared thought: "Let's rock."
I figured a Jaeger sized quarter staff could make it difficult to maneuver in tight quarters, so I figured a collapsible one would be more convenient.
Anyway, I'm not sure it's what you had in mind (I'd be really surprised if it was) but it's what came to my mind. Hope you don't mind.
Edit: Looking at this makes me really wish I had a drafting table. Trying to draw straight lines free hand suuucks...
It's basically a sequel to the first thing, but a Pacific Rim RPG means two characters whose heads I need to get inside of, and one of them hasn't had their say.
If he told someone it was all he was really good at, that would be a lie. But it was definitely in the top three. And when your number one thing is “understanding Kaiju”, well, you tend to gloss over that. Unless you’re trying desperately to sign up for the PPDC, in which case you bring it up as often as possible, regardless of the fact that it’s never helped.
“It’s not you”, they would always tell him. “It’s that prick of a friend.” And he knew they were absolutely right. Ashkir was easy going. He was good at fighting. And as mentioned, he had a gift when it came to understanding Kaiju. He could tell you in a second where the weak point was and how best to exploit it, and if given a few minutes to study it, could tell you exactly what the Kaiju was thinking of doing next. This was an incredibly useful asset, but the problem was that, for whatever reason, he was never drift compatible with anyone they tried to drift him with.
His take on it was that he and Ian had a special bond that couldn’t be broken, a connection, the sort of which can only be forged in combat. This combat wasn’t against Kaiju, he sorely reminded himself as his trainer took another swing at him with a bo staff, which he swiftly ducked while countering with a jab at the knee. It appeared at the time to be a classic scenario of bullies surrounding a weak classmate to torture him at their leisure.
And if there was one thing Ashkir hated, it was a fight that wasn’t fair.
So he leapt in, hurling his mass around in large, meaty fists, taking hits that would have knocked a kid twice his age over, but it had nothing to do with his imposing physical figure.
That day was the first day he had felt a righteous fire burning in his heart.
And since K-Day, it hadn’t gone out.
And so, Ashkir fought.
While he assumed he and Ian had some sort of connection, his family and friends were convinced that he just needed more training with a bo staff to give him an edge in the Drift Compatibility Bouts.
At first he dismissed them, explaining that that wasn’t how that worked, that your skill had nothing to do with it, but after hearing that his “friend” had gone out on his 5th all-nighter with Jaeger groupies (something he thought was degrading for all involved) in as many days that week, he was inclined to try just about anything.
And, while he detested overconficence, he had to admit:
He was pretty good at it.
His trainer, a man who had seen many pupils just like him and had the furrowed brows to show it, was just about on his last legs, even if he didn’t know it. From a glance Ashkir could tell that he had broken his leg at a young age and it had never quite set right, and that he frequently felt pain in his right shoulder from a fall, or something similar. With that knowledge in mind it wasn’t long before the old man was no longer bobbing and weaving around his every blow and Ashkir had disarmed him.
The trainer was on his knees, looking at the stick directly under his chin. He raised one eyebrow and croaked “Why is it you’re not out there killing those hopped up frogs?”
Ashkir’s phone rang before he could answer. But luckily, the person calling him was the answer.
“This is why”, he said, hitting the big green button on his phone.
“Look Ian, for the last time, I don’t care how many girls you said want my number, I’m not interested.” He said in lieu of a greeting.
“You need to come down here right now, Ashkir. The old factory, get down here, you have to see this.” Ian sounded incredibly enthusiastic about something, even more so than usual.
“I’m busy, man, I don’t have time for another home-made monster truck rally-“
Ian had already hung up. It was rare to have a conversation with him over the phone at all, let alone one that he voluntarily ended without wrangling some sort of hare-brained commitment out of you first.
It was rare enough that it got Ashkir’s attention.
He found Ian’s fancy, worn car past the abandoned security checkpoints, parked haphazardly right out front. He went inside, past the secretary’s desk, his pace quickening a little as he noticed how abandoned the place was. He finally reached the factory line, running full sprint now as he heard machinery at the end of it, behind some large metal doors. He knocked, and heard a massive sound, like an asteroid knocking on the door of the core of the Earth, respond to him. The metal doors opened slowly, and he backed away out of habit, looking straight ahead.
Once he saw what he was looking at, though, his eyes immediately drifted upward.
His father was a religious man, and while Ashkir had never really made up his mind on matters of devils and angels, there were always some verses his father would read to him as a child that stood out to him.
“And the Lord said “I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the Lord, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. But, you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.””
This is the verse he was trying to speak, but it came out between deep breaths as Ashkir fell to his knees, gazing up at a face he felt unworthy to see. It looked down at him, and they made eye contact for what felt like hours.
Finally he stood up, stumbling over to where Ian’s father was standing. They had always had a good, friendly relationship, but right now Ashkir could barely reply to pleasantries.
“You…?” he managed to get out before falling into another round of quick breaths.
Ian Trumpsten II shook his head, his eyes never leaving the beast, the Jaeger, which towered before them, its unblinking visor matching their gaze and then some. It was only turning its head, however, which led Ashkir to believe that Ian was inside of it, and that it was mostly turned off so that he didn't suffer a neural overload.
“No. I didn’t do anything for you, or anything for Ian. This isn’t a gift I give you. This is a favor I ask you.” Now he turned to Ashkir directly. “You and my son have always kept each other safe, always protected one another. Because of my own foolish ways, this is the only path left to him, and so I ask you, plead with you, please follow him down it. There is no one I would trust more with my son’s life, and I would hope the feeling is mutual.”
Ashkir’s head was swimming. This was all some sort of crazy dream, the old man with the bo staff had knocked him unconscious and he was lying on the training mat. He would wake up any second, so there was no need to do anything stup-
“I’ll do it.” He said confidently. They were the stupidest three words he had ever spoken in his life, but they were the only three words that felt right.
After all, if there was one thing Ashkir hated, it was a fight that wasn't fair.
"No. We are needed where we can do the most damage. And doing the most damage is what we do. Remember, we are not just the tip of the spear-"
"We are the shield that breaks the tide. Yeah, I know. It's a lovely little speech. But we need to show off all of the components of our lovely little-" Another eyebrow twitch from Bridgette "-giant robot. You know how the suits are. "Walking advertisement, model of the conglomerate, blah, blah, blah""
"A better advertisement is a kaiju head on our drill."
"Hm. Maybe next time I should let you talk to the bossmen by yourself. You do have a way with words"
Bridgette just stared at her. The last time she had been the one to do the talking, a shouting match between her and several of the corporate officers had ended....not well. A smile appears, faintly and then just as quickly melts away. "I would rather face 3 kaiju together than another one of those terrible meetings alone"
"Now that we can both agree on"
The cries for Vince's name seemed to come from the lips of every reporter. He must be loving this, Dustin thought to himself. Sitting with his boss and his long-time partner at the head table of this press conference, though, led to some of Vince's excitement about the project transferring to him. He was thankful that the tablecloth hid his anxiously moving feet.
Dustin and Bill had done everything there was to do in the WWE. Tremendous storied careers, accolades, guaranteed spots in the Hall of Fame. Despite all that, it still threw him for a loop when Vince first brought the idea to Bill and himself. Take two aging athletes, throw them into the biggest arena of their lives for the sake of all mankind against giant monsters...Dustin thought that his long-time employer had finally lost it. But Bill got those stars in his eyes, the ones that convinced Dustin to follow the big oaf into this career in the first place, and he knew that was that. Plus, the money being thrown his way certainly wouldn't hurt...
"And now I announce to you the pilots of Fission Hercules: Dustin Clements and William Nevin, or as we know them in the WWE, Pickaxe and Dynamite!" And with that, the duo were thrust into the world's stage once again.
One reporter managed to get her voice heard after the initial hubbub. "Mr. Nevin! Given the age of yourself and Mr. Clements compared to the rest of the Jaeger pilots, and the strict qualifications of the PPDC Rangers, do you think that you two are up to the task of defending Earth?"
Dustin cursed inwardly, hoping that after Bill spoke in public, the rest of the questions would be directed towards him.
"Well, lil' missy, I know that Dusty an' I ain't the sharpest knives in th' drawer, but when it comes down t'it, this ain't much more than beatin' the everlovin' PISS outta whatever's 'cross frim us. And that's somethin I'm PRETTY keen on continuin' t' do."
Dustin's wish was granted.
"Mr. Clements! Given the...history of your employer and his tendency towards promotional, extravagant fiascos, how can we look at your recent endeavour as anything other than a flash in the pan money grab from Mr. McMahon?"
Man, 20 years later, facing annhiliation from giant alien monsters, and he STILL gets the XFL thrown in his face. Indeed, Dustin saw, from the corner of his eye, the slightest of flinches on Vince's face when the word 'fiasco' hit the air. After allowing him the momentary relief of seeing any kind of weakness in his employer, he composed himself and began.
"Sir, I'm aware of Mr. McMahon's history. More acutely than you, I'd expect. So believe me when I say that my first reaction to this initiative was to say no. But after my kneejerk reaction, I gave it some thought. There are more and more Kaiju coming here by the month. While the PPDC is giving it their all, there might come a time when it isn't enough. They might need whatever help they can get. So yes, this project was probably born out of a desire to be some big, showy camapign for one man's business. But it put together a Jaeger that'll be used to defend ourselves. That's not something just any group can do. And we all say we'd like to live in a world where we don't have the need for these tools, don't need to protect our very way of life. But that's not our world. People say that the Kaiju brought with them a terror-filled existence, the end of everything as we knew it.
Bill and I say that they brought a world where the ends justify the means. And if that's enough of a reason for us to strap ourselves into this thing and fight demons, I'd wager it's enough for you right now."
Please note that @DaMoonRulz gave me the liberty to write this, and that he doesn't necesarrily talk like this.
I just really really want him to
Chicago Megagame group
Watch me struggle to learn streaming! Point and laugh!
I still haven't heard from @Gatsby but I don't want to keep the rest of you waiting around for one person so he'll just have to catch up later.
The Aegis Jaeger Defense Initative is looking for Jaeger pilots to shore up their fresh new defense program.
Do you have what it takes to protect the world?
No prior experience required, Jaegers can be provided if necessary, all welcome to apply...
You can still remember the advertisement, it seemed so strange to see a request like that on the vacancy postings, but Aegis has a solid track record and some top-notch pilots working for them, if it's a scam it's a well-researched one.
So you responded, answered the questionnaires, sat the interviews and now. Now your Jaeger is being fitted proudly into the Aegis hangar, your dreams and goals of fighting off mankinds greatest threat is about to become reality.
Although not right now, right now you find yourself sat in a typically uncomfortable plastic chair in a waiting room you can only describe as 'wholly generic.' The walls are painted a dirty cream and there is a low table of out-of-date magazines in one corner. One wall has a large brushed metal emblem, a stylised A in the shape of a shield, pinned to it. Below that is a cheap wooden desk with a bored-looking receptionist sat behind it.
Yourself and the other Jaeger pilots competant enough to make it through the vetting process are sat in this small room awaiting a briefing from the head of Aegis, and your soon-to-be Marshall. Seems like she's running late however.
So, you know, this is the typical, 'you all meet in a tavern' scene. Feel free to chat between your characters, you've never met before and will presumedly be working closely with one another in the future.
If you've got any questions about the setting, particularly knowledge you think your characters should possess but I haven't mentioned, then please do say.
@chiasaur11
Michelle rocks her chair back and forth, tapping her feet, drumming the sides of her legs with her hands. Eventually, she spots Jane. "Hola. The name's Michelle, como se llama usted?"
"Errr... My name is Jane. Jane Walker, from Ottawa. I take it that you are my co-pilot?"
Michelle beams. "Hell yeah, I am! Gonna kick some kaiju ass, it'll be great! How about you, Jane, you excited?"
"Well, I am reasonably excited to get into the Conn-Pod of a Jaeger. I have admired them since childhood." Jane looks down, embarassed. "I...I tried making a Conn-Pod when I was twelve. Stupid, I know, but I loved -love- machinery."
"Haha, right on! How successful were you, then? I take it you saw pictures to look at and base your design on, and there's gotta be a reason you were picked."
"Not very. But I wanted to be around Jaegers, and I never gave up."
Michelle raises her hand in response to that remark, and Jane slaps it with all her might. The echoing sound of the clap resounds like thunder through the room.
"So."
"So."
"We sure are living the life here, Ashkir."
"Absolutely, old chum. Defending humanity from the scourge of..." Ashkir turned to his right, grabbing a magazine from the pile to his right, "a three month old issue of Seventeen"
"Oh my God, are you right. The world needs our incredible specialized defense against the '20 Hottest Jaeger Boys of All Time' feature." Ian reads from the cover in a mocking tone.
Ashkir flips through it. "Wow, some of these rankings are so bad that they might actually secretly be Kaiju in disguise. Young Stacker Pentecost isn't even in the top 10!"
"Am I on that list anywhere?" Ian asks, only kind of joking.
"We're both an honorable mention."
Ian sits up, raising an eyebrow. "You're kidding me."
Ashkir flips to the appropriate page and begins to read aloud. "'Ian Trumpsten (the 3rd!) has always been a hottie, but he kicked it up a notch when he announced that he was going to pilot a homemade Jaeger (and look good doing it too!) late last month. The Shepherd Trumpcard Introduction tour showed everyone how good he looked in a conn-pod suit, but it also introduced us to his friend, Ashkir Jenkins, who's definitely the strong, silent type. They compliment each other and make for one hunky pairing, but they're so new to the scene that we here at Seventeen hesitate to throw them on this list. Maybe the next one!'"
"You're the strong, silent type?" Ian asks, chuckling a little. "Last I checked it was hard to get you to shut up once you were onto a string of puns."
"Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly a media darling on our little worldwide Jaeger parade. And even if I had been, it would have been hard getting a word in edgewise in interviews with you-oh my god."
Ashkir flips excitedly through the magazine, finally finding the page he's looking for. He lets out a low cackle as he shows it to Ian.
The title of the article reads "Drift Compatibility Test: Could you and your BFF pilot a Jaeger?"
Ian and Ashkir make eye contact and simultaneously nod, laughing.
They read aloud the questions:
"Question 1: You and your bestie are going out on the town. What do you wear?
A) Whatever I want
C) Something casual. She's my best friend!
D) Matching shirts with each other's names on them."
"It's got to be D, right?" Ian suggests.
"Man, I don't want you trying to put my name on a t-shirt. You can barely spell your own boring name, let alone mine."
"Boring? Know a lot of guys with 'the 3rd' as their last name, do you?"
"You remember where we went to school? I knew guys who would see your '3rd' and double it."
"That's a good point. So shall we go with E) Nothing at all, clothes are for poor people?"
Ashkir chuckles, shaking his head. "Sure, why not?"
They continue in this manner for the next two dozen questions.
Chicago Megagame group
Watch me struggle to learn streaming! Point and laugh!
Bridgette opens an eye and nods, before going back to her nap.
"Don't do it Shane. These aren't Jaeger groupies like you're used to. Piloting a 8000 ton robot isn't going to score you points when everybody in the room can check the same box on their resume. You go over there with your usual shtick, you're likely to come back broken. And if you get broken, we can't pilot Cyc. And if we can't pilot, I'm never going to collect the first hand observations I need to get published.
"Yeah, whatever. You keep your nose in the book and let me know where to punch the next thing that crawls out of the deep end. While you're busy doing that, I've got some time and some new people who haven't heard about the time I threw four touchdown passes in a single game... I had college offers after that you know
"Let me interrupt, because I'm pretty sure I can tell it just as well as you by now. 'I could have gone to college. Recruiters threw full ride scholarships wrapped around giggling cheerleaders and cheap beer at me. I was hounded night and day by coaches convinced I was going to be the next big name, and then I jacked my knee up being a dumbass trying to impress some random chick with a smartphone and a nice rack, so I took over my dad's garage and ran his business into the ground instead'. Am I close Shane?
"You can be a real bastard, K-head. It wasn't my fault the garage went under. After Trumpsten went full J-pro, we couldn't get replacement parts for love or money to work on the high end cars that we specialized in. It didn't matter that the whales driving them had the cash, the parts simply didn't exist. But you try telling some billionaire trust funder that his favorite toy isn't getting fixed and see how that works out for you.
"Okay, I know, that was a cheap shot, and I apologize. But my point still stands. You try your usual blunt force wooing tactics here, and you're going to regret it.
"Shane drops his hand on the table with a thump that's audible throughout the room and stands up. Leaning close to Ben his mouth twitches up into a roguish smile. With a quiet "We'll see." Shane winks and turns towards the nearest woman in the room.
"Right. Um, you're the Jaeger pilot candidates, right? Oh, wow. Shelley is not going to... those are actually pro wrestlers. Wow. Guess that's one bet won! Err..."
He cleared his throat and continued.
"Uh, hello. I'm Doctor honorary doctorate only Jonathan Morgan, co-head of the Kaiju science team here at Aegis. We'll, that is, well, heh, those of you who survive longer than a week will, heh, get to know each other pretty well in the near future. So, if you have any questions, or maybe some... oh, hey! Ben! Wow, didn't know we were getting interns, too. They said you guys weren't in the budget or something. This is great! Just, uh, I call dibs, to be clear, if Shelley asks. I have dibs on interns. And a 30% lower workplace injury rate, so it's not like you're losing out."
Jonathan looked around the room again.
"Aaaand, that's about it for the opening statements. Any questions?"
Why I fear the ocean.
Jane gently lowers Michelle's hand. Raising her own, she inquires, "How much say did we actually get in our Jaegers? I saw a comment made by my partner that she wanted a fast-"
"I wanted something that could dance, little lady."
Jane blushes. "Yes. I am just curious about paint, weapon armaments, names, and so on."
He smiled for a second, lost in thought.
"Also, I'm pretty sure you want to talk with the Marshall about that. Remember to call her Marshall a lot. She loves that."
Why I fear the ocean.
Ashkir was laughing with him, but he eventually calms down, wiping tears away from his eyes.
"I actually have a good one. Our Jaeger checked out, right? Up to Aegis' standards?"
Michelle cracks her neck. "Excellent. Bigger they are..." The beanpole of a Ranger cracks her knuckles for emphasis. "The more fun they'll be to wreck and ruin. Far as I'm concerned, we still owe those metaphorical sons of bitches for San Francisco."
"Well, you know. The Seventeen tests are proprietary, and Aegis's compatibility budget just can't afford the fines. And err, yes. For a broad enough definition of 'standards.' You met all of them."
Why I fear the ocean.