#armoured combat vehicles

[disarmamentawarenessday]

2nd Meeting, 2024 Protocol V Meeting of Experts (CCW).

Convention on Certain Conventional Weapons – Protocol V Meeting of Experts.

Watch the 2nd Meeting, 2024 Protocol V Meeting of Experts (CCW)!

[historyandwarfare]

Light combat vehicles with high-calibre weapons

Requirement for wheeled armoured vehicles appeared between First and Second World Wars, and in 1930s Germany started serial production of such vehicles for its recon units. Widespread usage of wheeled armored vehicles only started after World War II. In 1970s, 1980s and 1990s, new generations of wheeled armored vehicles appear, responding to military requirements for increased mobility,…

[nimata-beroya]

Note: Since my old masterlist is getting notes again (and I'm hosting @tbb-appreciation-week this year), I thought it's a good time to release a new version with a lot more resources. If any of you know another site or thing that it's missing from the list, let me know and I'll include it!! [Altho, I'm getting this close 🤏 to the hyperlinks limit on this thing 😆]

Note 2: To avoid tagging the 3 people from whom I got multiple resources repeatedly, I've placed 1-3 asterisks between square brackets after the links, depending on the OP. I give the respective credit to them in a legend at the end of the post.

PLACES / TIME

Interactive Galaxy Map by Henry Bernberg

Map of the Galaxy

List of planets and moons [Wikipedia /needs expanding]

Planet Name Generator 1 [SciFi Ideas]

Planetary System Generator [Donjon]

Tatooine Location References [*]

Various locations Cross-Sections (Jedi Temple, Palp's office, Tipoca City & more) [**]

Republic - Separatist - Hutt space during the Clone Wars

Hyperspace Travel Times (to calculate how much time would take to go from point A to point B within the GFFA)

Standard Calendar and Holidays [including month names!]

Galactic Standard Calendar [wookiepedia // including week day names]

Date converter according to SWTOR [Google sheet]

Dated Star Wars Chronological Order (Movies + live-action shows + animation)

TCW Chronological Timeline by @mauvrix

Estimated date for: shared by @spectres-fulcrum

Partisans' attack on Onderon

Siege of Lasan

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

General

Star Wars Name Generator 1 [Donjon]

Star Wars OC flow chart by @thefoodwiththedood

Star Wars Name Generator 2 [FantasyNames]

Star Wars Name Generator 3 [FantasyNames]

MetaHuman [Unreal Engine]

The character creator

Droid Name Generator

Star Wars Randomizer by @aureutr

Character Picrew [Twi-leks, Zabraks, Torgutas and Nautolans] @/megaramikaeli

Jedi

Taking a Closer Look at the Jedi Order in Star Wars Canon [Meta/Reference Guide] [**]

Jedi Order Structure Flowchart by @rileys-nest

Mandalorians

Mandalorian Armor design by MandoCreator

Keepers of the Way (Mandalorian Lore) [*]

Clones

Complete List Of Named Clone Troopers shared by @propheticfire (Organized by Unit)

Clone Creator [MandoCreator]

Clone Picrew

Star Wars Character Templates by SmacksArt [the ULTIMATE battery of template for any human/humanoid original character in any era. From troopers to droids, from Jedi to Sith, from KOTOR to the sequel Trilogy. 100% RECOMMENDED]

Basic Guide to Clone Trooper Armour by @odekiisu

GAR structure summary by @intermundia

The Clone Wars Republic Military Hierarchy Flowcharts [***]

Clone Trooper Lore [*] [Ranks, Culture, Training, Organization, etc.]

Clones and Kamino [*]

The Bad Batch Characters Concept Art shared by @shadowthestoryteller

MISCELLANEOUS

Star Wars Character Age Comparison Chart by @the-yearning-astronaut

Tusken Raiders lore by @snarwor

Materials (fabrics, leathers, silks, plastics, construction, metal composites, etc.)

Materials in Star Wars by marvel_dc_heart_throbs

Star Wars Fashion [*]

Leisure, Art, Musical Instruments, Ethnography [*]

Political and Criminal Organizations in the GFFA [**]

Financial reference about credits by @thecoffeelorian

List of TCW Opening Quotes

Transcripts of all the TCW episodes shared by @book-of-baba-fett

Star Wars Crawl Creator [not exactly writing-related, but just for fun]

HEALTH AND MEDICINE

Canon Medical Lore [*]

Real World reference for Field organizational structure for corpsman (medics) [*]

Kaliida Shoals Medical Center (Republic Haven-class medical station) shared by @clonewarsarchives

GAR Battalion Aid Station [*]

GAR Clone Medic Q/A [*]

More combat medicine, shipboard medicine, veteran issues, and military culture [*]

SHIPS AND VEHICLES

Ship Generator 3D

Ship Name Generator

All Terrain Tactical Enforcer (AT-TE) shared by @stairset

Republic Vessels Reference [*]

Low Altitude Assault Transport/Infantry (LAAT/i) [*]

List of GAR Flagships in the Clone Wars by @meandmyechoes

Layout of the Havoc Marauder

Dimensions of various ships from the Clone Wars [**]

FOOD AND DRINKS

Star Wars Menu Generator

In-Universe Alcoholic beverages

Canon Cocktails (recipes) [*]

Another In-Universe Drinks list shared by @systemic-dreams

Teas in Star Wars by marvel_dc_heart_throbs

Foodstuff [*]

Canon Star Wars Holiday Recipes [*]

Trask Chowder Recipe (from The Mandalorian) [*]

LANGUAGES; PHRASES AND SLANG; VOCABULARY

Languages of the Galaxy [*]

Script of different languages in the GFFA by @lucif-hare-blog

In-Universe phrases and slang [Google sheet]

List of phrases and slang [wookiepedia]

List of equivalents to real-world objects [wookiepidia]

Talk Like a Clone Trooper shared by @archeo-starwars

Aurebesh Translator [Aurebesh.org]

Learning Aurebesh Tools [Aurebesh.org] Reading - Writing.

Mando'a Database [Mando.org]

Mando'a Transcripticon [MandoCreator] (Create your own text in the Mando'a script.)

@project-shereshoy (Blog that collects and posts sources for Mando'a from all over the internet.)

Mando’a Categorized Spreadsheet

Learning Mando'a Tools [MandoCreator] Reading - Writing.

Setting Thesaurus Entry: Spaceport [Writers helping writers]

Fan-created Conlangs

@dai-bendu-conlang (Jedi Culture Explored) (This blog is the home of the Dai Bendu Conlang, invented by the Archive of Our Own Users aroacejoot, @ghostwriterofthemachine, and loosingletters for the Jedi Order in Star Wars.)

Lasana Lexicon by Anath_Tsurugi (fandom lexicon of the Lasat Language)

HELPFUL BLOGS & SITES

The amazing @fox-trot, who not only makes astonishing art and write an amazing fic, she also responds to medical questions and gives all kinds of references for writing medic characters. Check her #medicposting tag and you'll find tons of information. Also check #star wars reference and her art tag while you're at it.

@writebetterstarwars, which seems to be inactive, but there are a bunch of references there.

@howtofightwrite The place to find out how to write a good fight scene.

@scriptmedic no longer active, but it has a great deal of useful information.

@scripttorture for your whump needs. Major trigger warning for all its content.

@sw-anthrobiology A blog dedicated to collecting headcanons about the biology and cultures of Star Wars species.

@archeo-starwars In-universe sources on culture and history.

@clonewarsarchives Resources & Concept Art Blog for The Clone Wars animated series.

Wookiepedia If you don't find something in here, it's probably because it doesn't exist, neither as a canon nor legends reference.

Star Wars Databank: The official Star Wars website's reference guide. All canon.

WRITING IN GENERAL (For those who don't want to die like Stormtroopers)

SlickWrite: Completely free; online. Checks grammar, punctuation, flow, and writing style according to different settings (including fiction writing).

ProWritingAid: [RECOMMENDED] One of the most thorough online proofreader I've ever used. Although when using a free account gives extremely thorough feedback, with +20 different in-depth reports, for only the first 500 words. However, you can earn a premium account license (for a year or for life) if you get 10 or 20 new users signing up for free; (if you wouldn't mind doing so using the link above and help me earn mine, please). The settings allow you to check your writing according to your needs, from general to formal to creative. It has a bonus that you can check depending on the genre you're writing. For example, in creative, you can choose romance or sci-fiction (there are 14 sub-genre in total). And just like google docs, you can share a document, and people can view, comment or edit it too.

LanguageTool: [RECOMMENDED] Another excellent proofreader. It also has a word limit in free accounts, but if you use the add-on for Google Docs, it counts each page as a new document, so hitting the word limit is nearly impossible. It helps you to rewrite a sentence (3 a day), even if it doesn't raise any flags; it's very useful for when your sentence is grammatically correct, but it doesn't feel quite right.

Grammarly, Hemingway Editor: No so great, but they do the basic job.

Legend

[*] Shared by @fox-trot [**] Shared by @gffa [***] Shared by @cacodaemonia.

[mistyresolve]

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 6)

Word Count - 3k

Summary - TF 141 has regrouped at their safe house, and in the past two weeks they have been of trying to figure out their next move. Doc and Ghost finally have a little talk about their night together.

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Slow Burn

A/N - hi

Part 1 ❤︎ Part 2 ❤︎ Part 3  ❤︎ Part 3.5  ❤︎ Part 4 ❤︎ Part 5 ❤︎ Part 7

Masterlist   

The two of you were back in the garage the next morning. Ghost getting up significantly earlier than you did; leaving you to wake up alone and slightly chilled from the morning air. 

There was also a delicious ache between your legs that wasn’t normally there. 

Ghost was servicing one of the armoured vehicles to make sure it was ready to go when the squad needed to move. It’s matte tan painting normally nothing significant but you couldn’t help but feel some sort of familiarity with the vehicle. While taking stock of your medical supplies you stared at the lettering on the side of the vehicle trying to pinpoint where you had seen it before. 

“Riley,” you called out, eyes still locked on the bolded lettering on the side of the hood. He paused what he was doing to look up at you. With narrowed eyes, you said, “Why do I feel like I’ve read about this ATV before?” You recalled reading about a vehicle being swiped from a convoy a few months ago in one of the weekly newsletters the military put out. 

“Uhh,” you could’ve sworn there was a slight blush underneath that mask, “Yeah, we stole it. Wasn’t our intent at first, but figured it would be a waste of an opportunity if we returned it.”  

You made your way to the stool beside him, “‘We’ as in?”

“Soap and I…” he thought for a second, searching for the right word, “commandeered it on our way into an active combat zone. In the report, we said it was a hostile.” he shrugged. Everything here was stolen, sure, but it was mostly little things like rations and ammo; which he had mentioned took forever to compile. The other vehicle was just a modified truck. This was an Oshkosh MPAP; equipped with a turret, and bulletproof windows, and was worth a million dollars.

And these goons just took it.   

Despite his seemingly nonchalance demeanour, there was clear pride in the set of his shoulders. You also knew he and Soap chuckled about it on their way here to stash it.   

“What did Price have to say about it?” you inspected the manual for the ATV to see all it came with. There was a hesitance from him and you lifted a brow at him, “What will Price have to say about it?” you reworded the question, getting the sense that Price doesn’t know. 

“I doubt he’ll even notice,” Simon set back to work, reaching for something and tightening it with a wrench. 

The rest of the squad arrived later in the morning and Price undoubtedly noticed. In fact, he pointed right at it, eyebrows raised but didn’t say a word. 

Soap pretended to be just as shocked, “How did this get in here?” 

Ghost did a good job of redirecting everyone’s attention, “We’ve got almost a week's worth of food reserves.”

Gaz swung his gear over his shoulder heading towards the makeshift barracks, “You leave any hot water for us?” he asked Ghost. 

“Nope,” he shot back dryly, failing to mention there was never any hot water to begin with. He shoved a finger in Soap’s direction, “You better get in there next. I can smell you.” 

“It’s a musk,” Soap retorted, feigning offence.  

“Go stand downwind of me,” Ghost strained as he looked an ammo crate into one of the trucks.  

You couldn’t smell Soap from where you sat but you were sure every one of them smelt like a little ripe from all the traveling. They looked weary from it. 

A strange feeling of unspoken uneasiness hung overhead all of you. Everyone was purposefully avoiding the obvious fact that we didn’t have a solid plan.    

When Gaz returned from his shower, he had a strange look on his face. A mix of annoyance and embarrassment. He had pulled a a pack of cigarettes from his pocket throwing them to Soap, “You win,” he said bitterly. 

“Really?” Soap caught the pack, immediately putting one in his mouth. He turned to Ghost, “You’ve just made me a very happy man.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ghost looked genuinely confused. He glanced at you with questioning eyes, wondering if you had any insight into their exchange.

You offered him a subtle shrug.  

Price was talking quietly with Laswell outside the garage. With dark bags weighing down his eyes, accompanied by a frown, Price looked uncharacteristically tired. Knowing him, he probably didn’t get the best sleep last night. It was us against the world right now, and since he was our captain every single one of us was looking to him for direction. It was a lot of pressure for one man. But there was a good reason he was Captain. He was level-headed and experienced. This probably wasn’t the first time he found himself in this situation either. This was just another Wednesday for him. For all of them. 

Except you. 

You don’t belong on a task force like this. You weren’t even sure you were meant for the medic life anymore. Lord knew you couldn’t save anyone when it mattered. 

Your teeth sank into your lip as you pondered your life choices so far. The hair on the back of your neck began to tingle and when you looked up to see Ghost watching you from across the room. His eyes revealed nothing before he dragged his attention back to Soap.               

Price called for a meeting after everyone was a little more settled in, “We’ll need to lie low for the next few weeks. Keep our footprint to a minimum,” Price took a seat on the bench next to you, swiping a hand down his face, “Laswell said that the brasses have been keeping it tight-lipped about our situation. So either they don’t know and someone is working on this alone or they do know and don’t want it getting out,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Which one is worse? I don’t know.” 

If they do know we risk giving ourselves away by trying to make contact. This was going to be a waiting game. 

We were in this alone and the thought of the world being completely oblivious to our disappearance was frightening. The idea of your family never knowing what happened to you left just as fast as it came. 

“Until we come up with a plan?” Gaz sneered, his eyes hardening making it evident it was hardly a question. 

“How long will that take?” You asked, your knee bouncing in a clear show of anxiety. 

Laswell cleared her throat, eyes peeking over the laptop she was sitting in front of, “I’ve got a few contacts on US soil who are doing some internal investigations. I won’t be able to exchange information with them as often as I’d like but they’re good at what they do,” She assured, this usually perfect braid falling loose down her shoulder. “I trust that they’ll be able to find some leads.”

“How long with that take?” Ghost repeated your question.

Laswell huffed, “I have no idea.” 

“Let’s aim for a few weeks at the very least,” Price said, lifting a fresh unlit cigar to his mouth. 

“We’ve only got a week’s worth of food,” you exchanged a look with Ghost, who was already looking at you, his dark eyes unreadable. Before the rest of the team got here he had donned his mask, making it all the harder to gauge what exactly he was thinking. 

“Ahh,” Laswell flipped her laptop to face the rest of us. You leaned forward and squinted at the bright screen with multiple windows pulled up, “There’s a little townlet three hours from here with no military presence. We can go into town to stock up when the time arrives.”

Two weeks. Two whole weeks passed and Laswells weren’t any closer to finding out who Specter was, and everyone was getting antsy. She did, however, discover that we have all been flagged as deserters. 

Price and Gaz were out doing recon every morning, and every time they came back with the same news. Which was no news.  

You and Ghost had gone into the little town Laswell aforementioned nearly every day since that first week. You spent most of your time at one of the schools there. It was a symbiotic relationship where you were providing medical services wherever you were needed in exchange for more medical supplies. All the while Ghost went off on his own sometimes coming back with food other times with information on the movements of the military. “For your safety” he wasn’t able to tell you who exactly he was meeting with for this information. 

You were cleaning the wound of a smaller child, her dark hair and wide glassy eyes flitting to everything that moved. Considering how her wound looked a week ago she was healing well. In a few more days there will be nothing left but a pink scar. You couldn’t understand each other because of a language barrier but there was mutual respect between you two. She couldn’t have been older than 10 but her eyes showed she had seen more than her years. Her eyes would sometimes glaze over and would stare far beyond what you could see. Her mouth would loosen and she would murmur to herself. A prayer, you were later told by a woman who spoke English. It was unsettling to see someone so young so grown. 

That’s what growing up in a warzone will do to you. You chastised yourself, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“Here,” you secured her bandage showing off your work to her. Her delicate hand grazed it, her face void of emotion. With a slight bow of her head, she left. You watched as she disappeared back out the school door. 

You felt someone take a seat beside you, her identity easily discerned by her scent of pepper and rosemary. “Her mother would have been so devastated to see her like this,” she spoke softly, her accent almost undetectable. She was one of the teachers at the school, and also the one who let you use her classroom as a makeshift station when she didn’t have any classes. 

She seemed like a great teacher, artwork and previous school projects lined her classroom walls. 

It didn’t go unnoticed that she was using the past tense. Your mouth opened and closed as you fought to find the right words, “She’s too young,” too young for this kind of life. Too young to be seeing death. Too young to be this broken. 

“Is anyone ever old enough?” She began helping you pack your supplies, offering you a new medical kit for today’s services, “We are having trouble getting shipments in so this is going to be the last time we’ll be able to pay you back.” 

You tilted your head at her, “What do you mean by troubles?”    

She smoothed out the wrinkles from her shirt, “They’ve put up checkpoints at every roading leading in and out of eastern borders. It is almost impossible to get transport trucks through,” Her blue eyes had grown tired in the last few days.

You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me. If there is anything I can do to repay you, anything at all, let me know.”

She smiled and shook her head, “You’ve done more than enough,” she leaves you to turn her attention to a group of students coming in for her next class. 

Ghost returned to the school a few hours earlier than he usually did, his pace hurried, “Grab your stuff. We’re getting out of here,” he panted like he’d run the entire way back to the school but he was already moving to pack your supplies back into your pack. 

You looked up at him, eyebrows knitting together, “What’s wrong?” 

“A convoy was sighted three hundred kilometres to the east,” he didn’t wait for your reply before he slung ur pack over his shoulder and strode for the door, “And they aren’t insurgents.” 

Which means they’re American. And they couldn’t know we were here. They would take us all back in, and the last thing we wanted was to be getting into gunfights with our own. 

Ghost opened your door for you, “Get in.” 

You gave him a side glance before stepping up into the truck and letting him slam it shut behind you. Apart from the sound of the rocky road underneath the wheels and the whir of the engine the ride back was silent. You watched out your window, turning thoughts over in your head, debating whether the conversation you’ve been wanting to have with him but never the time, was worth it. 

Since that first night, nothing more has happened between you too. There hasn’t been the time for a conversation about it. Let alone actual sex. Still, a conversation needed to be had at some point. You wanted to know what he was thinking. He was always difficult to read and never shared his thoughts and feelings with anyone.  

“What’s on your mind?” Ghost spoke first, sensing your hesitation, his eyes flickering between you and the road. 

“A lot,” you tried laughing but it came out more like a sigh, then shrugged, “I guess mostly…about that night,” you started off.

His eyes widened before he quickly turned to face the road again, “Go on.” 

“We haven’t discussed it, or… haven’t really had the time to explore what it means. If it does mean anything. Don’t get me wrong,” you caught yourself, “There really isn’t a worse time for something like this,” it wasn’t like things had grown awkward between the two of you in the last few weeks, but you weren’t sure how you were supposed to be feeling. Or how he was feeling. Doubt had crept into the corners of your mind in the last few weeks. 

Maybe it was just a distraction for him. 

Your breakfast soured in your stomach at the idea.      

The clouds overhead began to turn a sombre grey, bringing with it the threats of a storm. 

Beside you, he’d grown impossibly still. His shoulders were taut with discomfort, “If you’re going to say it was a mistake just do us both a favour and say it.” 

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach, “Was it–” you swallowed, “Was it a mistake for you?” 

“No,” he spoke with conviction, “No, it wasn’t.” 

Just as fast as the air left your lungs, they were filled, “Ohh,” you released a sigh, your head falling back onto the seat. 

“Once we get ourselves out of this we can talk about it all you want, but–”

“But, now isn’t a good time,” you finished for him, agreeing with the statement.  

“I don’t want you to think I used you like some sex-crazed caveman,” he shifted, the light of the day dwindling as we rolled down the road, the shadows from the trees creeping closer and closer to the truck. 

“I dont…” you started but he was already pulling the truck over to the side of the road. 

“I need you to know that the moment we get back to society that this,” he unbuckled his seatbelt and gestured between the two of you, “Isn’t going to end. I care for you but I need you to stay alive. So, I’m deciding for us to put things on hold because neither of us needs the distraction. It wasn’t a mistake. Do I wish I had waited until I was able to fuck you in a real bed? Kinda.” 

The first few drops of rain splattered onto the windshield, fat and heavy. 

He released the strap on his bulletproof vest to his chest and reached for my hand, “Feel this,” he brought my hand, dwarfed in his, to his racing heart. The heat radiated off his body, “That is what you do to me. Every time you look at me, or speak, or enter a room. I feel like I  can’t breathe around you. I’m terrified of you, and the possibilities that come with you,” he squeezed your hand, and he took in a shuttering breath, “And when you look at me like that,” his voice dropped and his eyes searched yours before bringing your hand lower, where you felt his member hardening. 

Your cheeks heated and you felt your own heart quicken its pace. 

The sounds of the rain became a rhythmic beat as it began to downpour, and without the windshield wipers to wipe away the downfall it was nearly impossible to see to the outside. 

He let out a low, agonizing sound when you gave him an experimental squeeze 

His attention flicked to the clock on the dash, his eyes darkening, “If I had been a smart man I wouldn’t have told Price we were leaving early. So if we take much longer it’ll raise questions,” he pulled away from you, slowly, like it was taking every sane part of him to do so, “And I’m sure you don’t want that.” 

You shook your head. You did not want to talk with Price about your extracurriculars. 

He took one last look at you, “Fuck sake,” he lifted the bottom half of his mask and pulled your lips to his. It was a chaste, desperate, open-mouth kiss. One where his hands dipped your head back to gain better access. His thumbs cradled your jaw, his fingers curling in your hair. 

It was just like the last time you kissed him. He was all fire and heat. He was explosive. 

When he finally pulled back, his lips were wet and rosy, his eyes half-lidded, “Promise me you won’t go anywhere?” he said lowly. 

You couldn’t help the sheepish smile, “I’m here.”  

His Foresight - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎  @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes ❤︎ @adelaidai ❤︎ @ddioriez ❤︎ @johfaam0 ❤︎ @marytvirgin ❤︎ @stickygumchewer ❤︎ @lauraliisa ❤︎ @jungcoccc ❤︎ @lovelyladymayyyy ❤︎ @lululandd ❤︎ @chrissyfishywissy ❤︎ @naxxsstuff ❤︎ @sididakra-jo ❤︎ @yukisawer ❤︎ @q8852p ❤︎ @kat-nee ❤︎ @meganoreid ❤︎ @thewoodenarcade ❤︎ @kaghost ❤︎ @shadowcldx ❤︎@mymommmy ❤︎ @crunchlite ❤︎ @mychrysanthemums ❤︎  @xheera​  ❤︎ @lockleywife​ ❤︎ @ryethebrokengae  

[chaosroid]

Cyberpunk's expansion will supposedly overhaul the original game

Police system is reworked and depending on your wanted level, you'll have multiple tiers of NCPD/mercs chasing you in vehicles. It'll be possible to have lvl 5 Maxtac chasing you and a bossfight against them

Perks and skills have been overhauled, no longer just passive stat boosts, but more active abilities like different melee finishers, dashing, and the ability to deflect bullets with melee weapons

A new 6th skill tree for adding new abilities to your cyberware

Loot tiers are reworked

More variety in enemy combat encounters

Installing cyberware now has an effect on V's body and too much will inflict cyberpsychosis

Installing cyberware now has a first person cutscene animation added to it

Can now attune cyberware to one of your attributes, enhancing its efficiency (i.e optical camo attuned to 'cool' attribute)

Armour stats no longer tied to clothing, but your cybernetics

Vehicle combat is added, including the ability to use your katana on a bike

Vehicles are no longer bought from fixers, but through a website set up by Mama Welles

Certain vehicles have weaponry installed on them (gatling guns or rocket launchers)

Repeatable radiant quests will be added involving vehicle theft

New activity called Airdrops where loot caches drop randomly on the map that you can fight over and retrieve

New random events/activities are added to make the world feel more alive (i.e car chases and gang fights)

Edit: These changes will come in Patch 1.7, which will be free to everyone (with the exception of last gen console owners)

[source]

[owlbear33]

Idk that still sounds like a fairly big-machine focused perspective

I think what's making me want to get into Battletech, even though I'm really not super into big mechs, is it's got a super wide open messy setting setting

like as far as I understand it, it's got a good handful of really big factions (the five houses, ComStar maybe, I'm ignoring the clans I don't know where they fit - there're an awful lot of them), a whole bunch of minor factions (the periphery), plus you can play as a dinky little mercenary company

and they're all just a bit of a hot mess, there's every reason for two forces from the same faction to get into a fight with each other

everyone uses the same mechs (again ignoring the clans), sure different factions have their favourites, suggested playstyles and the like, but if you like the look of a mech (mechanically or otherwise) you can run that mech

faction regret... what faction regret

(you might get mech regret but I mean... shrug)

also like it's all about big machines, maybe not my fave machines, but still machines, and as mechs go, Battletech mechs are pretty cool, they're at least interesting (I like the sorta less humanoid long-nosed ones)

[psychotrenny]

I can understand getting annoyed about the whole mech sexualisation "eroticism of the machine" thing you see widespread in certain tumblr tgirl spaces. It's not really something you see in the source material, being more a vauge jumble of mecha iconography and vibes combined with the common tgirl sexual proclivities rather than a reflection of any actual established tropes, and any sort of idea is gonna get grating if it feels oversaturated and/or insincere enough. But like, it doesn't come from nothing. Generally speaking, the intimacy of piloting a mech is usually the whole point of the genre. Because it's not as if mecha are a remotely realistic or even reasonable form of war machine within the bounds of conventional physics; if you just wanted to tell a story about "war but in the future" you'd just make up a fancy tank or something.

The whole point of a mech is to be a war machine that mimics the human form. It pretty much functions as an extension of the pilot's body; sometimes in a very literal way though direct neural interface but even more conventional cockpit controls ultimately have a similar effect. They nearly always have one human operator, rarely more than two, in contrast to any sort of conventional military vehicle; mech combat become a duel between pilots rather than a battle between crews. It essentially restores a certain element of humanity to war by taking the human element and scaling it up dramatically, taking the insane destructive potential of modern warfare and concentrating it in the hands of a single super-heavily armoured person. Re-creating the gallantry of a knighthood in an age of machine guns and heavy artillery. Now specific pieces of mecha media will emphasise or de-emphasise these aspects to varying extents and take them in all sorts of direction; something like Battletech takes this to an extreme by basing the setting around outright Mech Feudalism while Armoured Trooper Votoms essentially reduces mechs to the level of futuristic grunts. But the unity of man and machine and the way this affects the emotional stakes of combat is more or less core to the genre.

It's only natural enough that some people would notice this intimacy and take it in a more sexual direction. People develop all kinds of attachments to inanimate objects all the time, which tend to intensify the more visibly important said object is to their continued life, sometimes even to the point of romantic affection. And what object could be more important than your combined sword and armour and steed? What object could be more intimate than one you literally encase yourself inside of and become one with? In some settings mechs even have their own AI with varying degrees of intelligence, which humanises both the machine itself and the pilot's with it to an even greater extent. Like I can understand why wanting to fuck your mech might not resonate with everyone, but it's a natural enough place to take it. It's an approach that's in conversation with concepts and themes that widespread through the genre, not a random projection of desire upon the first half-suitable target. Certainly makes more sense than sexualising your shopping trolley

[noctxj]

the reaper | part iii

as far back as human memory can recall, the origin of flower marks remains unknown. if perhaps they came during or after the birth of humanity, or are benevolent gifts from the gods to aid ones navigation in life— milestones to remember and learn from, a north point on a compass lest you stray from your path. regardless, they have always been. and while flower marks remain an important aspect of ones journey, there is none other more significant than the soul flower mark. wherein the moment someone is born, this mark blooms above ones heart, as it is considered a pure reflection of who that person is and will be.

part i / part ii / part iii / part iv

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

“конвой в пределах видимости. 13 кликов к юго-западу от текущего положения. мониторинг.” (“convoy within sight. 13 clicks south-west of current position. monitoring.”)

all this gear and still cold.

“утвердительно, жнец. в режиме ожидания.” (“affirmative, reaper. standby.”)

it was cold back then, and still cold now. not sure why she would think differently.

the blindingly white snow of the siberian mountain ranges reflected off the reapers’ combat goggle lenses and sniper scope; sitting motionlessly atop her snowmobile hidden amongst the creviced mountainside and tall pine trees. her attentive (bored) gaze never straying from the four vehicle convoy moving over the frozen lake.

to be fair the reapers handler had ordered her to be on standby since she situated herself in her current position. that had been 3 hours ago.

“утвердительный—” (“affirmative—“)

KA-BOOM!

the deceptively frozen surface of the lake violently shook and gave way from the pressure of— explosives? 

— and it was now only getting interesting.

“жнец, отчет о состоянии сейчас.” (“reaper, report.”)

all four vehicles toppling over on the fractured slates of ice before succumbing to the glacial water of the lake.

“Маршрут был перехвачен в самом слабом месте, как вы и предполагали; весь конвой затонул в озере. Подозревается использование взрывчатки.” (“route has been intercepted at weakest point per your predictions; entire convoy has submerged into lake. suspected use of explosives.”)

the reapers’ focused gaze zeroing in on the 1… 2… no… 4..? figures through her scope, as they clambered up and out of the lake. three in unfamiliar, but climate suitable diving gear— not konni soldiers, her gloved fingers gently increasing her scopes clarity in an attempt to identify the three hostiles currently manhandling the now free prisoner. 

“жнец в лагерь: враги захватили пленника.” (“reaper to compound: hostiles are in possession of prisoner.”) 

she spoke into her mic, scanning the tree outline and immediate surroundings for anymore hiding.

“Только трое держат пленника. Я могу их вывести и забрать пленника.” (“only three have the prisoner. I can take them out and retrieve said prisoner.”)

“отрицательно. Два отряда были отправлены в течение 3 минут к последним известным координатам конвоя. Держите пленника в поле зрения и сохраняйте дистанцию, не вступайте в бой, пока я не отдам приказ. Давайте посмотрим, хороши ли в бою новые друзья победителя, хорошо?” (“negative. two units have been dispatched eta 3 minutes to convoys last known coordinates. keep prisoner within your sight and maintain distance, do not engage until i give the order. let us see if mr. z’s new friends are any good in a fight, shall we?”)

mr. z

or as he likes to proclaim himself as, her father, even though they were far from being family. rather, he was the man that gave her biological mother an out from flora’s existence. the man that gleefully handed her over to the institution as a gift. proof that him, his father and their organisation were worthy allies to the institution (and their resources). 

through the many layers of thermal fabric and body armour, the luscious tapestry of rhododendrons and begonias blooming from the reapers right palm, up to her forearm as a bouquet of danger and caution, she still felt them throb warmly at the anticipation of a hunt.

“понял, сэр. выезжаю.” (“understood, sir. moving out.”)

⋆.✧̣̇˚.

you fucking fool.

was the only thought that passed the reapers mind before lodging two bullets straight into the prisoners' chest, midway through piteous begging to his captors to not kill him, he would tell them everything and blah blah blah—

the same song and dance—

hence the immediate command for his elimination, lest he blurt out sensitive information of interest to mr. z.

it was times like these, that the reaper felt a surge of calm stillness burn within her chest, right where her soul flower mark is. as if that this is exactly what fate had intended for her. 

mr. z’s new friends however…

the reaper thought with mild disinterest, 

their bottomless pit of dogs could be trained better—

“4 минуты, жнец.” (“units 5 and 6 eta is 7 minutes, reaper.”)

“копия.” (“copy.”)

however, the minute the prisoners body fell to the unforgiving siberian ground, the biggest of the team— 

a beast of a man wearing a skull mask—

immediately swivelled to her general direction and knelt to one knee, eye already peering into his scope, as his comrades dragged the prisoners’ body with them behind cover.

sniper, with fast reflexes—

only to shoot once, then twice—

and for the reaper to feel a white hot burning flash of pain tear through the lower right side of her abdomen.

agh— 

pivoting on one foot to slam her back against a tree out of direct eye line, the rough surface of the tree dragging across her back and adding to the uncomfortableness of the situation.

how annoying—

the reaper would have been impressed, if not for the bullet still lodged in her body and her current priority to immediately stem the bleeding. the peculiarity of a skull masked sniper landing an almost lethal hit to her didn’t exactly improve her mood either.

skull masked sniper. now why did that sound familiar to her?

“жнец в соединение: я был скомпрометирован. пуля в правый нижний квадрант, активно останавливает кровотечение, не смертельно.” (“reaper to compound: i’ve been compromised. bullet to right lower quadrant, actively stemming the bleeding, non-lethal.”)

“копия. статус миссии?” (“copy. mission status?”)

“заключенный получил две пули в грудину. Его оттащили из поля зрения, прежде чем снайпер в маске-черепе нанес ответный удар. Точное состояние не подтверждено, визуальных данных нет.” (“prisoner received two bullets to sternum. dragged from view before skull masked sniper retaliated. cannot confirm state, no visuals.”)

the scattering of timber chunks from the side of the tree she was resting upon appeared in her peripheral.

trying to flush me out into view huh

“настоящее время под обстрелом.” (“currently under fire.”)

“Копия. Рипер, мне только что сообщили, что противники - это не только силы освобождения Урзикстана, но и их известные сообщники, оперативная группа 141. А именно: капитан Джон Прайс, лейтенант Саймон Райли, сержант Джон Мактавиш и сержант Кайл Гаррик.” (“copy. reaper, i have just been informed that the hostiles are not only the urzikstan liberation forces, but have been identified as their known associates, task force 141. specifically: captain john price, lieutenant simon riley, sergeant john mactavish and sergeant kyle garrick.”)

a pause while more bullets sent more pieces of bark flying within her view.

seems like more than one shooter now—

“… лейтенант — это тот, кто носит маску-череп.” (“… the lieutenant is the one wearing the skull mask.”) 

ah, right. the reaper can now actively recall reading the profiles of the known associates of the ULF as potential enemies to appear on the field.

“копия. разрешение на ликвидацию оперативной группы?” (“copy. permission to eliminate the task force?”)

“отрицательный, они помеха, а не приоритет; приоритетом было устранение предателя — с такими ранениями он долго не проживет. Я ожидаю, что вы немедленно вернетесь на базу. Однако эвакуационный пункт находится к северу от вашей позиции.” (“negative, they are a nuisance not a priority; the priority was eliminating the traitor — he will not survive long with those injuries. i expect you to return to the compound at once. however, evac is located north of your position.”)

the reaper sighed as she could now feel the uncomfortable stickiness of her uniform cling to her front, understanding her predicament. the bloodied wound positioned at just the edge of the wrathful red tulips decorating her right hip and waist; now a tangled mess of coagulated blood and vermillion petals, a terrible mix. 

“копия. Жнец выдвигается, вступает в схватку с враждебными силами.” (“copy. reaper moving out, engaging with hostile forces.”)

the burning of a new rhododendron blooming on her skin going unnoticed by her. 

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

tric’s notes

the reapers not so meet cute with the 141 is almost here! for those who have played the games, any clues as to the inspo of what mission reaper hijacked in siberia?

used google translate, so apologies to those fluent in russian if it seems like i horrendously butchered the language gahhhh

thanks and cya in the next one!! ♡︎

crossposted on ao3 (same username)

[constantlymisspelled]

The SUPERCOMMANDO CODEX - DRAFT

CONTENTS

Mandalorian Code Interpretation [link is found here]

Strength is Life

Honor is Life

Loyalty is Life

Death is Life

2. Honourable Conduct [link is found here]

Honour in self

Honour in the Community

Honour in the Galaxy

Honour Amongst Clan

Honour in Partnership

Honour in Leadership

Honour in Combat

3. Adoption Law [link is found here]

The Legal Definition of Foundling

Foundling Procedure

Disownment of Parent

Community Adoption

Adoption regarding criminal activities

Adoption regarding marital conditions

Adoption Consent

4. Marriage and Divorce [link is found here]

Spouse Definition

Spousal Privileges

Conditions for Legal Engagement

Consent and Age Restrictions

Conditions for Legal Marriage

Conditions for Legal Divorce

Children, Clan and House Considerations

5. Resolnare [link is found here]

The Six Tennent’s Broader accepted conditions

Way Followers Interpretation

Naasaade Interpretation and Redemption of Vows

Noncombatant Interpretations

The Mandalorian Healer’s Code

The Mandalorian Armourer's Code

Codes recognised in Conjunction

6. Clan and House [link is found here]

Definition of House

Responsibilities of House

Definition of Clan

Responsibilities of Clan

Requirements needed to be declared Alor of Clan

Requirements needed to be declared Alor of House

Requirements needed to be declared a Major House

7. Language Protectorate [link is found here]

Mando’a in Practice

Rights to change, add or remove words

Script usage and recognition in Mandalorian Space

8. The Position of Manda’lor [link is found here]

Requirements needed to be a candidate for Manda’lor

Responsibilities

Oversight

Commanding body

Restrictions, Compliance and Declarations of Misconduct

9. Education and Cultural development [link is found here]

The Education Responsibilities of Clans

The Education responsibilities of Schools and facilities

Freed Re-education programs and foundations

Religious and cultural rights within education systems

Parental rights throughout education

10. Electoral Process [link is found here]

The Court of Houses

The Sector Governors

The System Governors

The Astro Body Governors

District Electoral Members

Electoral Voters

Voting conditions

Overseers of the Ballot

Postal Elections

Voting Eligibility

Right and Responsibility

Conditions for Referendum, Re-election and Hung Parliamentary Votes

11. Court of Law

Family Court

Criminal Justice Court

Court of Appeal

Military Court

Financial and Business Court

Public Courts

12. Responsibility and due process

Parental Responsibility

Personal Responsibility

Political Responsibility

Financial Responsibility

Military Responsibility

Adoption Due Process

Engagement and Marriage Due Process

Divorce and Separation Due Process

Election Eligibility Due Process

Firearms Licensing Due Process

Verdgoten and Adult Graduation Due Process

Election Results Due Process

Parental Disownment Due Process

Clan and House Formation Due Process

13. Foreign interaction and policy

Foreign Ambassador acceptance

Externa; Ambassadors abroad

Foreign Currency and Exchange

Border Security

Digital Security and Programming Policy

Citizenship and Visa Acceptance

14. Employment within and outside of the sector

Legal age and parameters of employment

Contract and procedure for levels of employment

Foreign policy for Mando'ade working abroad

Foreign policy for outsiders working in Mandalore

15. Property and payment

Land ownership and tenancy

Forms of payment accepted in legal contract

Ownership and registration of vehicles

Ownership and registration of Firearms

Ownership and registration of Non-sentient Animals

Copyright, fair trade and artistic license

16. Beskar

Donations to Foundlings

Ownership

Sacred right to wear beskar as armour

Conditions for percentage declared

Rights to mine and export

Religious significance

17. Recognised Mandalorian Sects and Coverts

Traditionalists

Haat Mando’ade

Naasaade

Way Followers

Creed Bound

Silver Children

18. Armour and Weapon Classifications

Military Issue

Military Grade

Civilian Use

Hunter and Mercenary Equipment

Trade and Specialist Equipment

Journeyman, Protectorate

19. Criminal sentencing

Theft

Grievous bodily harm

Assault

Rape

Murder

Manslaughter

Negligence

Criminal Negligence

Medical Malpractice

War Crimes

Demagolkase - War Crimes against children

Sentient Trafficking and experimentation

Financial Misconduct and Tax Evasion

20. Military and Law Enforcement

Military

Mandalorian Protectors

Journeyman Protectors

Home Guard

Manda'yaim Reserve

21. Land Rights and Conservation

Land Ownership

Sale and Redistribution of land

Declaration of Sacred Places

Sector Council Lands, Protectorate Lands, Crown Lands and Stock Routes

Protected Areas

Water Ways

Tenancy, Lodging, and Temporary Accommodations

Public Areas

Squatters' Rights

Sanctioned and unsanctioned terraforming

22. Commerce, Business and Integrity

Currency and Zones

Business Licenses and Legal Procedure

External business practice

Monopoly businesses and Mega Businesses

Banking within the Sector

23. Discrimination [link is found here]

Species

Sex

Religious Interpretation

Language

Ability

24. Closing Statements

Manda'lor Jaster Mereel [link is found here]

The Translator

25. References

Regarding headcanons for Houses; [link is found here]

26. Contacts and Relevant Supervising Personnel of Note

[This post will be altered as I go, and as amendments are made]

[oshlet]

Lohan-Scott 'Vagabond' MBT, a refit of the chassis, swapping its 120mm gun for a high-energy laser instead. With energy storage becoming ever more powerful, several larger militaries have refitted some of their AFVs with energy weapons. Although lacking the indirect fire and multiple ammunition types of conventional guns, lasers are exceptionally precise and also remove the risk of ammunition cook-offs.

While unable to match the all-terrain nature of mechs as well as their agility and variable profiles, tanks are still widely used due to their ability to fit more armour and firepower on a platform for a cheaper price-point. Head to head, a tank is normally the favoured combatant, but a mech's strategic mobility allows it to find effective vantage points for ambushing such vehicles. Across open plains however, the tank still reins supreme.

[the-clawtake]

Jehan slammed against the safety restraints with a sharp exhalation, hauling on the controls of his Kodiak in a bid to keep it upright. It staggered slightly, then straightened, and he eased the throttle forward again.

The Sea Fox technicians had done a good job, in the time they had, but they had not had a lot of time, or the appropriate facilities. The armour around the damaged cockpit had been removed, and the connections cut away, and the replacement anchored in place, but the welds were hasty and unfinished, the control runs crude. But they would do the job, at least until he was in a proper Mechbay.

And that wouldn't be long now. Up ahead he could see the hive of activity that was FOB Hawk. Battlemechs were stood in careful formations, powered down and waiting for orders, or patrolled around the outskirts. He could see ground vehicles as well, and personnel going about their business, but he was focused on making it into the cavernous hangar under his own power.

His eyes glanced up to the rear monitor. Behind him he could see Astrid's Executioner, and Isidora's formation, slowly getting the hang of their new organisation. And his own 'Mechs, badly damaged, most of them. Both Stormcrows and the Black Hawk were barely on their feet, suffering from the same issues with the control runs he was, and the Mist Lynx was limping from a bad hip actuator, but they had made it to the FOB under their own power.

Now SLDF Mechtechs were ushering them into the hangar, and guiding them into the repair bays, and he had the prospect of a proper meal ahead of him.

As he went through the shutdown procedure, and stood to leave, he stroked a hand over the stock fabric of the command chair. It was not yet his cockpit - The chair not worn right, none of the familiar scarring on the dash, the supply stash was stocked with standard rations, rather than being filled with his favourites, but all of that could be fixed.

He paused before opening the hatch. Helios was wintery, and because the AO was not secure, he'd made the trip in his combat gear. That would not be suitable attire for the the local environment. Luckily there was a solution, and he pulled open the drawer underneath the command chair, hastily donning the fatigues stored underneath and placing his coolant vest in the space they'd occupied.

He checked his gunbelt was secure, his service pistol and the long dirk he always carried were securely fastened, then hit the hatch release and pulled himself onto the gantry. He would take just long enough to give the Tech's a rundown of what he needed done, then he would find some food.

[zvaigzdelasas]

Detailed tests on the damage capability of kinetic energy weapons against US military armour have found it could be possible to take out a tank in one shot – even if it does not look like any damage has occurred.

That was the conclusion of Chinese scientists who conducted the in-depth assessment of kinetic weapons through experiments and numerical simulations.

They found that a solid sphere, weighing 20kg (44lb) and hurtling towards its target at about four times the speed of sound, could spell disaster for advanced tanks manufactured to US military standards.

The kinetic energy carried by such a projectile would be around 25 megajoules. This value may seem large, but when converted into electrical energy it is less than 7 kilowatt-hours, scarcely more than the energy it takes to cook two turkeys for Christmas.[...]

it was found that bolts connecting important equipment to the inner cabin wall could fracture. Even if the crew survived the impact, they would be unable to return the tank to its normal combat state.[...]

“Under high-speed kinetic projectile impact, certain typical locations in the armoured target exhibit impact response spectrum lines with amplitudes at certain frequencies exceeding the safety limits recommended by the US military standard MIL-STD-810,” Huang’s team wrote.

“Components at these locations have a high probability of failure due to overload damage,” they said.[...]

high-speed kinetic projectiles have the potential to achieve lethal damage even upon grazing contact, and their launching methods can be diverse.

Chinese naval scientists recently claimed that they have installed an electromagnetic coil gun on to a land-based wheeled platform and conducted rapid consecutive firing tests. This coil gun has the ability to accelerate heavy spheres to incredible speeds in the blink of an eye. Photos of this new weapon circulated on Chinese social media, sparking much speculation and excitement.

While the mobile coil gun might have appeared primitive, just as the early tanks did, some military experts believed it to be a game-changer. If electricity replaces gunpowder as the driving force behind lethal weapons, the landscape of future warfare will never be the same.[...]

Tank crews often point the front of the vehicle towards the energy, as this section is designed to be the most rugged and able to withstand the most firepower. But a kinetic projectile hitting this section would send destructive stress into the tank’s interior, potentially causing catastrophic damage to its firepower capabilities.

“The grip of the tank gun stabiliser console can be shaken off, the wiring base of the console pulled out completely, all connections between the fire control computer and the turret severed, resulting in a substantial loss of firepower,” the researchers said.

1 Jan 24

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hi! This request was easier to search for, so I see you’ve recommended Hearts of Wulin and Ten Thousand Days for the Sword. Do you have any other wuxia or xianxia game recs?

Have a good day!

THEME: Wuxia Games.

Hello friend, I'm certainly not an expert, but after reaching out to some more knowledgeable folks, I think I have a few!

Jiangshi: Blood in the Banquet Hall, by Wet Ink Games.

This is a collaborative, storytelling RPG about a Chinese family making their living by running a restaurant in one of America’s Chinatowns, circa 1920. Despite societal backlash and anti-Chinese laws, they have turned a profit and their quality of life has recently improved.

Night, however, brings a new terror.

Players take on the roles of members of the Chinese family (mostly from Guangdong province), spanning three generations, who face threats of jiangshi (hopping vampires) at night and racism by day. It has players balancing the responsibility of maintaining their family business with protecting themselves and their community from the dreaded Jiangshi. This is primarily a game about storytelling. Combat is limited, but horror, drama and sometimes comedy are the primary vehicles for driving the game forward.

This game draws quite a bit from boardgaming elements, so I think this one is best played around a physical table, especially since it requires a custom deck of cards. You’ll use these cards to represent the demands of running a restaurant in the day, as well as fighting of a vampire at night. This game is probably on the borders of what I think is considered wuxia, but if you have a horror lover in your group, this might be worth checking out.

Exalted, by Onyx Path Games.

This is the tale of a forgotten age before the seas were bent, when the world was flat and floated atop a sea of chaos. This is the tale of a decadent empire raised up on the bones of the fallen Golden Age, whose splendor it faintly echoed but could not match. This is a tale of primal frontiers, of the restless dead, of jeweled cities ruled openly by spirits in defiance of Heaven’s law. This is a tale of glorious heroes blessed by the gods, and of their passions and the wars they waged in the final era of legends.

Exalted has a number of different sources, only one of which feels close to wuxia, but the stories are certainly expected to give you long, sweeping epics and larger-than-life characters. There are many different kinds of Exalted, including Solars, Lunars, and Dragon-Blooded. Since I’m not a wuxia connoisseur myself, I’m not entirely sure how close Exalted comes to hitting the mark - I’m mostly recommending it because it came up connected to some other wuxia fantasy games when I was doing some searching.

Jiang Hu, by wum1ng.

Jiang Hu is a role-playing game for the wuxia genre. Drawing inspiration from wuxia novels written by luminaries such as Jin Yong and Gu Long, the Feng Yun comics from Ma Rong Chen and the multitude of wuxia movies and television series, this game brings the world of dashing swordsmen, warrior monks, brawling beggars and high-flying stunts to your tabletop. 

Players take on the role of Martial Artists fighting against various threats to the lands of Jiang Hu, ranging from evil sect leaders who have mastered forbidden secret martial arts techniques to megalomaniacs seeking to take over the Imperial Throne by force and the blood of countless innocents.

The Worlds Without Number series by Kevin Crawford has its praises sung by many people, especially folks in the OSR scene, and that is the bones that this game is built on. Your character is built from quite a list of skills, which are differentiated between Combat and Non-Combat. You also have a number of secondary attributes, for things such as Armour Class, Evasion, and Luck, as well as a dedicated space on your character sheet for weapons and martial arts. Expect combat to to take up a bulk of your time!

When you roll for your character background, you also get a significant life event that is expected to shape your character’s past, such as having a loved one murdered, or falling into serious debt. Out of all of the games listed here, I think this game is the closest to D&D, what with the “packages” of skills, items and abilities attached to each background.

The Oath, by brushmen.

"We seek not to be born on the same day, but hope to die on the same day." And with such an oath, Yong, Li, and Ming swore loyalty to each other.

When earthly desires tempt them, and devotions threaten to tear them apart, with or without a hand from uncaring fate…

will their oath endure?

The Oath is a collaborative storytelling game for one Game Moderator and three players.

This is meant to be a one-shot, which borrows the Entanglements system from Hearts of Wulin and the character Keys and Tags from Lady Blackbird. Since this game comes with characters already pre-written, it would probably be very good for groups who have very little time, or who want an easy on-ramp to games or the wuxia genre. I like the fact that the Keys give you prompts and directions for your character’s behaviour; it’s strong statement on how the author interprets the genre, but it still gives you, the player, a choice on what elements of your character will be emphasized, and what elements will take up the background.

brushmen also has another wuxia Lady Blackbird hack called The Escort, about recovering from a violent robbery, this one for four players and one GM.

Four Swords, by ehronlime.

This is a tabletop roleplaying game about being young heroes in a wuxia story, made for the #AsianMartialArtsJam.

You start with your First Sword, which you use to challenge other heroes and villains and strive for mastery.

You will then gain three more Swords: the Second a sword of great pride and regret, the Third a sword of mastery and expression, and the Fourth a sword which is no sword.

You will also struggle between the obligations put upon your by others and what you truly desire from the life of a wandering hero.

Four Swords really zeroes in on the combat mastery part of wuxia fantasy. Your characters will grow into mastery, and battle with rigid codes and rules that structure the world you live in. The game is very descriptive, leaving you with only 4 abilities that are meant to broadly encompass what you are able to do. The game encourages characters to interfere with each-other using a mechanic called Vows, and levelling up gives you access to different techniques, which reinforce the competence of your characters as well as the rigid guidelines by which they might improve.

This game was made for the Asian Martial Arts by Asian Creators Game Jam, so you might find some more wuxi-themed games there!

Blades of the Immortals, by Jagganoth.

Blades of the Immortals is a tabletop roleplaying game inspired by xiānxiá. It uses the Forged in the Dark rules engine developed by John Harper, as seen in games like Blades in the Dark and Beam Saber.

In Blades of the Immortals, you will take on the roles of cultivators, striving for your own ambitions, for the glory of your sect, and for the ultimate prize —  immortality. You'll viciously struggle for scarce resources, compete for the patronage of powerful and influential teachers, gather allies to your banner, and scheme against your enemies. Your cultivators will wield mystical treasures and supernatural spell-arts, mastering the very laws of the cosmos as their weapons, as they become entangled in centuries-long vendettas between deathless wizard-kings.

This game is solidly focused on supernatural abilities and grand increases in strength. You choose from one of 9 different playbooks, and collaboratively create a faction that binds you all together. The sources listed as inspirations for this game include (but are not limited to) Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, Forge of Destiny, Aspiring to the Immortal Path, and Journey to the West.

Compared to other Blades hacks, this game reduces the standard number of action ratings, ties character growth to a change in your character’s beliefs, and separates your gear from your playbook. Characters can also level up through Realms, which increases your effectiveness and upgrades your inventory.

Mist-Robed Gate, by Shreyas & Elizabeth Sampat.

There are some things that we value more than life.

There are things we're willing to scheme and cry and fight and die for.

That's what wuxia cinema is about— fighting and dying for the things we care about. That's what Mist-Robed Gate is about.

Mist-Robed Gate comes with a full list of movie recommendations, but includes Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and House of Flying Daggers as key influences. I really like the fact that a key mechanic of this game includes stabbing your character sheet with a knife.

Players create factions first, and then take turns creating characters that represent those factions, with elements that represent the hero’s distinctive personality and style. Players also create the different locations that will serve as the stage for your scenes. Play happens over a series of scenes, as their characters push and pull against each-other, sometimes even making terrible demands (which is where the Knife comes in). If you want a game that has a lot of politics in the terms of actions having large ramifications over big groups of people, and if you want a game that is extremely dramatic, you might want to check out Mist-Robed Gate.

[snappedsky]

Borderlands: Skies the Ultimate Treasure Hunter

With Skies and Ava incapacitated, Timothy searches for the Crimson Raiders.

--

Dimension Debacle Part 7

A Hyperion truck drives through Thousand Cuts. Inside it, four armoured soldiers are lamenting their situation.

“Ugh, we’ve searched everywhere,” one of them whines, “we’ll never find them.”

“They’re probably drowned at the bottom of the ocean,” another grunts.

“If that’s the case, then Handsome Jack will kill us all for losing that Siren,” the third points out, “or get his psycho cyborg bodyguards to do it for him.”

“I hate this job,” the fourth sighs.

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of mismatched eyes watches the truck pass from behind a rock. As it comes down the road, their watcher clicks a detonator.

Just ahead of the truck, an outcropping of rock explodes, blocking the path. The soldiers cry out with surprise as the vehicle skids to a stop.

“Ugh, what now?” the driver groans as they all exit to look around.

“Road is blocked,” the second soldier observes. “Should we go back?”

“I guess-,” the other starts to reply when he’s cut off by a hail of gunfire in the back. It pierces his armour and he collapses dead.

The other three soldiers immediately switch to combat mode and whip around, drawing their SMGs. They look around suspiciously but don’t see anyone behind the surrounding rocks.

“Come out and surrender!” one of them barks.

More gunfire flies out from behind a rock and smashes through his helmet’s visor, killing him. The final two soldiers immediately race forward and look around the rock. What they see makes them stop in their tracks.

A Jack doppelganger stands there with two digistructed Jack clones, all three aiming their SMGs.

“The world just got 25% more handsome,” the clones say.

The soldiers don’t stand a chance and are quickly shot to pieces.

Timothy sighs as he dismisses his clones and steps around the rock. He keep his gun at the ready, in case anyone else shows up, and approaches the truck. As he peeks inside to make sure it’s empty, he nods approvingly. “This will do.”

He holsters his gun and goes back around the rock, where his two friends are lying unconscious.

[fullmetal-scar-simping]

Nowadays I find Mustang and co’s whole thing to be faux-deep. Like it’s supposed to be a compelling story about guilt and how we’re all messy and terrible, and anyone who hates this just can’t handle protagonists being flawed people.

But in practice it’s about how PoC’s brutalization and misery, often at the direct hands of white people, is ultimately meant to be the backdrop behind the white character’s growth and maturity so they can better understand the world now. And if they keep stumbling then PoC have to patiently, passively accept their continued brutalization for the sake of the white character making the right choice for THEIR agency and development.

It’s demeaning as hell, it’s like their victims don’t actually exist other than to be perfect victims without feelings or thoughts who are just punching bags for the white character to feel sad over and maybe wonder about the perspective of, but the narrative itself doesn’t actually wonder.

As an addendum to my ask; I hate how the brutalization of their entire lives and culture is just the price that PoC have to pay for the self actualization and development of a few white characters. Jeez it’s cool that Mustang found a new purpose and meaning in life, too bad his peace of mind came at the cost of so many innocents who deserved that more than him! Like why is Mustang’s growth prioritized over Ishvalan lives, how many had to burn just so he could get the hint?

Very well said. The characters of colour are backdrops both literally and figuratively. The white characters won't worry about the suffering or personhood of the (in this case) Ishvalans. At best they (and the narrative) will project whatever is most useful for the betterment of the white/light skin characters onto the Ishvalans. All while dearly protecting the pro-military-under-correct-leadership message of the manga/show.

-

This is going to be a side tangent, but bear with me here:

No doubt you've noticed the phenomenon of tumblrinas flocking to defend USAmerican soldiers and other military personnel the moment anyone (rightfully) disparages the armed sector of the American empire. They'll cry "You don't understand! These non-billionaire young Americans join the military because they were preyed upon by recruiters! They're poor and they were promised an education and a career in exchange for their recruitment! Our education system is bad and never taught them about the military industrial complex! They had no idea what they were getting themselves into!"

Which is all such bold-faced horseshit for one too many reasons.

1) The USA is a military state. It's infamously exorbitant funding towards its various military branches and projects eclipse the GDPs of entire nations. Even the most ignorant American ever knows their military is a big deal.

2) Their entire entertainment industry, particularly the mainstream movie industry, is bankrolled by the American military. All anyone is fed is either at-home copaganda (police) or abroad copaganda (military). It valorizes itself, yes, but it's not hiding that you're going to commit violence on others in order to police the world.

3) American culture is deeply, deeply, DEEPLY nationalist. It exults its own military forces as their true protectors, and the protectors of "freedom" the world over. ('Freedom' is America's fave euphemism for its global dictatorship.) You ever hear a diehard military bootlicker/active duty pig/veteran talk about their time as a professional murderer? Most are pretty stoked to do what they obviously signed up for. I'm not remotely convinced that your average USAmerican teen/young adult has never once encountered this form of jingoism. Many themselves are just are pro-invasion, pro-war as their elders.

4) They train you in combat and the use of drones, firearms, armoured vehicles, etc. Put two and two together. You don't need to be an aged academic to grasp what the fuck the weapons are for. You're signing up to kill people, even if its coated in a paint of "protecting your own people". Generations grown on shit like CoD aren't left scratching their heads about what they might potentially do to people when they sign up.

And the most important, glaring point that every single apologist just can't seem to grasp: why in the goddamn should anyone outside of the USA and the West give a flying rat's fuck about whether an American youth can afford college or not based on whether they take up arms against the Global South and SWANA? They think their lives, their nation, their lifestyles trump the lives of the rest of the fucking globe.

To them, everyone else should be ok with having their resources, their land, their people, their labour, and their lives ruthlessly extracted and mass slaughtered because it helps ignorant American cunts afford to be better capitalists/workers (go to school and have a career)! Your average American is convinced they're more oppressed (and naturally more important) than the people in the countries they sign up to subjugate! Slandering the very cogs who sign up to be cogs, who are key to allowing the war machine to continue churning black, brown, and Oceanic lives into mulch for USAmerican prosperity hits American psyches too hard.

Americans are real people, complex and pitiable, noble but exploited. Everyone else are cold hearted barbarians who could never ~understand~ The States (nevermind that the entire world can't go 5 seconds without encountering American marketing, products, news, entertainment media, aggression, etc etc etc, but I digress).

-

I bring up this real world example not to equivocate fiction with the very real, deep horrors of unending American atrocities (let us not lose perspective). But rather to illustrate the threads of imperial and military propaganda so imbedded in the mass consciousness of imperial citizens. The logic of existing societal structures informs the stories that get produced by workers, embraced by audiences, and then reinforced by fandom and merchandising. Mangahood fans are very precious about maintaining the illusion of criticality against militarism and genocide because it offers them comfort in being cogs in these real world systems too. (There's blood on the hands of everyone in the West. When it comes to tech, the blood of mining and factories is on the hands of the entire world.)

It's tooootally fine that mangahood dwells only on the humanity of Amestrian pigs for the price of painting a lousy caricature of the Ishvalans on thin paper that backdrops this lousy attempt at an "anti-imperialist" narrative. Because soldiers are people too! And yes, they are. So why are they exempt from from the direct culpability of their actions, their patriotic dogma, their ignorance that "allowed" them to carry out the extreme violence bought them security in their fascist nation's hierarchy? Why should we swallow what fma wants, that the Ishvalans ought to "know their place" and accept that their extermination will better their exterminators? Why should Ishvalans, especially Scar (and whatever other radical/anti-Amestrian Ishvalans that are implied to be around but never seen), be ok with that? Mustang, Riza, Hughes, etc needed to commit ethnic cleansing in order to feel like maybe Ishvalans are people too? That this shit is unethical? That they should have never signed themselves to become professional murderers simply because they "didn't know it would come to this"? Because they were too idealistic and self-serving?

Obviously we want flawed characters. We want narrative tension. We want to explore stories about imperialism. We don't want to pathologize war criminals in such a way that its abdicates the citizen class from their key role in agreeing to commit these acts, or back imperialism more broadly. And I'll never be the sort to champion the wretched notion that "certain topics must never be written about or depicted". But we sure as hell can point out when something that's passed off as anti-racist is in fact the total fucking opposite, especially in the ways it defends dominant racial/national/ethnic groups against the groups they thrive off of oppressing. We need to see through the sleight of hand excuses baked into media, and the ways that fans regurgitate the logic of racist systems as a way to comfortably enjoy said media without grappling with hard truths.

Many want to convince us that the hard truth in mangahood is that fascists and war criminals are human. That your ideals can lead you to do tremendous harm (it does such a lopsided job of this). These stories fail this goal when they strip the humanity of people of colour. And the fans who can't handle critique of mangahood avoid the hard meta-critique that gets made in regards to mangahood's execution of such a story. It wants to present challenging themes but flubs the execution because it always opts for the framing that grants the most grace to the people within institutions that commit genocide.

The truly difficult truth for most fans is everything you wrote so well, anon. Racialized people exist to be the dominant race's personal development. That mangahood plays this trope straight, with greater criticism against the agency and actualization of racialized, oppressed classes. Ishvalan deaths are not a tragedy for Ishvalans, but a tragedy for the Good Real People who carried it out. Killing those teary-eyed Real People in retaliation is a more grave act than killing anyone who refuses to be amalgamated into the nation. (The fear of violent resistance against an imperial nation is core to mangahood.)

Mangahood does everything it can, as a story, to conjure these rote defenses of its primary military figures. Their mass slaughter led to guilt which led to resistance against Bradley, the council, and Father. So why should the Ishvalans be seen in any other light besides a glib plot point? They'll be made anew by their killers soon anyway. Because their killers have grown, as People.

[thesilliestrovingalive]

Updated: November 22, 2024

Reworked Character #2: Tarma Roving

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to underage drinking, crime, an unhealthy romance, death, and torture.

Real name: Tarmicle Ignacio Roving III

Alias: Mister Nice Buddy

Occupation: Captain of the P.F. Squad

Retirement plans: Open a motorcycle shop, develop reliable cybernetic prosthetics for hospital use, and start a family

Special skills: Proficiency in Slugs, heavy duty firearms, and resource management, robotic engineering, weaponsmithing, mechanics, and bivouacking

Hobbies: Customising motorcycles while listening to rock music, drawing detailed blueprints for weaponry and vehicles, collecting action figures and scale models of military machines, looking for cool bugs and rocks, and camping

Likes: Beautiful women and men, hugging people he cares about, solitary journeys on his motorcycle, spending time in the great outdoors, and the toy version of SV-001 that Marco gifted him on his 22nd birthday

Dislikes: Social isolation, his frequent nosebleeds, shallow and rude people (such as Gimlet), feeling powerless when preventing his friends from getting injured, and insults that feed into his insecurities about his academic intelligence

Favourite food: Rice prepared with fermented soybeans, mustard, boiled eggs, and scallions

Sexuality: Sex-favourable, straight-leaning bisexual

Gender: Male

Age: 17 (in 2022), 23 (in 2028), 25 (in 2030), 27 (in 2032), 29 (in 2034), 36 (in 2041), 38 (in 2043), 39 (in 2044), and 42 (in 2047)

Blood type: AB+

Weight: 227 lbs. (102 kg)

Design: He’s a 5’ 11” (180.34 cm) Japanese endomorph of American and Mexican descent with a partial beer belly, rigid muscles, broad shoulders, and sienna skin. He has sunburst green-hazel eyes and fingernails that are painted a dull gold. He has maroon hair with medium-length parted bangs, featuring two distinctive ahoge cowlicks in the centre, alongside sideburns, a neatly trimmed goatee, and subtle curls. Like Marco, he bears nasty battle scars: badly burned flesh from the right side of his neck to the left deltoid; multiple lacerations crisscrossing his back, forearms, and thighs; his left ring finger is partially severed; a couple of bullet wounds are visible just below his left lumbar region; and a scar snakes down from the right side of his forehead to the middle of his left cheek. He has a horizontal scar in the centre of his neck, a result of a sleepwalking incident involving Marco, who nearly slit his throat with a kitchen knife.

His right forearm was replaced by a cybernetic prosthetic, crafted from ultra-durable, lightweight metal plated and reinforced with tungsten nanotubes. Vein-like fibres of superconducting nanowire mesh enable seamless integration with his nervous system. The prosthetic features a retractable plasma cannon that fires two types of projectiles: yellowish-white ionised energy blasts that deliver intense electrical discharges; and metallic purple-green goo, a highly corrosive and acidic substance capable of burning through virtually any material. Beneath the plasma cannon, a nanotech-enhanced, razor-sharp blade retracts seamlessly into the cutting-edge prosthetic. Forged from a nearly indestructible alloy, the gilded blade is micro-serrated for optimal tissue and armour penetration.

His military gear consists of red-tinted sunglasses, a metal dog tag necklace with his name, a walnut brown T-shirt with ripped sleeves, a rusty orange fingerless glove on his left hand, and a burgundy leather belt with a snap-on gold buckle. He wears a saffron-yellow vest with four pockets, featuring an embroidered logo of the P.F. Squad on the back. He also wears citron army cargo pants tucked under burgundy paratrooper boots, a sheath for his combat knife, and a gun holster for a handgun he rarely uses. He once ripped the right knee of his cargo pants, but Fio mended it with a patch of butterscotch-hued fabric. The pockets of Tarma’s vest carry around an old cigarette box, a silver lighter, the key to his first customisable motorcycle, and a toy version of SV-001.

Over his T-shirt, he dons a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries around his walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. His forearms are wrapped in dirty gauze, and he wears two dark brown bandoliers: one drapes over his left shoulder, holding sticks of dynamite, while the other wraps above his belt, holding bullets for his handgun. Tarma carries around a citron load-bearing backpack that contains camping equipment, tactical explosives, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, mechanic tools, a flame shot, two machine guns, an enemy chaser, and a laser gun. He has three piercings: a gilded septum as well as a silvery vertical curved barbell and a ring adorning his left eyebrow.

Tarma acquired a stolen katana called Murasame, renowned for its unique ability to self-cleanse its blackened steel blade, allowing it to remain razor-sharp. The katana features a distinctive wave-shaped hamon, a tangerine-hued handle wrapped in gilded cord, and a hexagonal silvery guard. The katana's crimson hardwood sheath features a golden straightened carp design, while the blade itself bears the Japanese inscription “血液洗浄” (Ketsueki Senjō), meaning "blood washing" in English, elegantly written on the right side.

His beloved motorcycle, built at just 15 years old, is a custom black and flame-coloured Harley-Davidson 42WLA. The bike's gas tank showcases a stunning design: an azure Japanese dragon wrapping around a bronze eagle with outstretched wings. He extensively modified his first motorcycle, integrating a missile-firing launcher between the handlebars and installing two 12.6mm calibre Vulcan cannons (similar to those found on the SV-001) towards the front. Additionally, he fitted a bulletproof carrier at the rear, coated in a durable silvery dark grey paint, which houses a shotgun and thirty corresponding shell holders.

Character summary: He often pokes fun at the overly serious Marco, much to his annoyance, yet still holds him in the highest esteem as a heroic soldier. Whenever he's away from Marco and can't contact him, he starts to worry about his safety. But when Marco returns safe and sound, he's instantly relieved and overjoyed to see that he's okay. The idea of Marco going missing or dying an untimely death would leave him feeling deeply melancholic, empty, and lonely. Tarma is fiercely loyal to Marco, willing to put his life on the line for him and offer comfort during his darkest moments. They share a remarkably harmonious relationship, rarely engaging in conflict or brotherly banter, as Marco is thoughtful of his emotional sensitivity.

As a flirtatious and affectionate individual, he frequently tries his luck with women and men who catch his eye, regardless of their faction affiliation. Although his advances often end in rejection, he doesn't let it discourage him and won't pursue them aggressively, viewing them as minor setbacks. Although his advances are rarely reciprocated, when they are, the encounters tend to be brief and sexually intimate, and he’s comfortable with that.

He has very strong romantic feelings for Fio, but struggles to express them. He enjoys spending time with her, sharing stories about his day and telling jokes. However, he occasionally comes across as a bit awkward in her presence. Once he and Fio enter into a romantic relationship, he exudes greater confidence in his feelings for her, leading to a deepening of their emotional connection and a profound level of intimacy and supportiveness. He adores it when Fio showers him with kisses, praise, and loving compliments, and he happily returns the affection. He sometimes gets into debates with Fio over what they should or shouldn’t do, but he always remains calm and tries to find a mutually beneficial solution that they can both agree on. He holds Marco dear as his queerplatonic partner, a bond that strengthens when Marco joins him and Fio in a polyamorous relationship. He feels at ease sharing his dorky side and vulnerable emotions with Fio and Marco, finding comfort and acceptance in their presence.

He genuinely cares about Eri and strives to treat her with kindness and respect. However, her tendency to socially withdraw from him, coupled with her constant belittling and physical confrontations, makes it challenging for him. Fortunately, Marco and Eri's team of Ptolemaic defectors frequently intervene to stop these confrontations. Due to Eri's animosity towards him, he harbours a deep-seated fear of her and tends to distance himself from her, particularly when she's intoxicated or near Fio. He wants to tell her that he ended their relationship years ago because she was using him as a distraction from her own problems and to fulfill her own self-centred needs, but he's hesitant to express his feelings, fearing it might escalate her hatred of him.

He's a loyal, clumsy, and fun-loving hothead with an adventurous spirit and a readiness to put up a good fight when necessary. He has a breezy and slightly sarcastic attitude, paired with a great imagination that shines when designing innovative weapons and vehicles. He has a clever talent for stirring up distractions and sparking moral self-reflection in those around him. He’s emotionally intelligent, going to great lengths to ensure the happiness of his friends, comrades, and loved ones. Tarma has a great sense of humour, often cracking jokes that span various comedy genres to diffuse tension in most situations, but it can become annoying at times. He has a hearty appetite, which becomes particularly evident after completing gruelling missions involving intense combat. Due to his strong sense of justice, he’s a vigilante at heart with protective instincts. If someone he loves is harmed, he will stop at nothing to ensure they receive the justice they deserve, showing no mercy to those responsible.

He has mild ADHD, which sometimes leads to spontaneous and curious thoughts and questions that he openly shares with those he trusts most. He feels deeply hurt and frustrated by Gimlet's mocking comments about his neurodiversity and physical differences, which escalate into intense confrontations. The mere mention of the Great Morden War triggers severe anxiety, culminating in violent panic attacks, vivid flashbacks, and haunting night terrors that disrupt his sleep. However, beneath his nonchalant and optimistic facade, he struggles with insecurities about his intelligence and mental slowness. Despite his enjoyment of being lively and a tad mischievous, he can't shake the feeling that he's a nuisance. Whenever he feels like he's about to cry, he quickly runs off to find a hiding place, fearing that others will mock him for his sensitivity. Tarma will only cry in front of others when he's feeling completely overwhelmed and people are aggressively yelling at him.

He's very patient, but sometimes his patience wears thin, and he snaps when he's feeling reasonably irritated. Although he isn't hesitant to assert himself respectfully when misunderstood, threatened or emotionally hurt, there are times when his approach comes across as rude and crass, leaving him feeling remorseful. He's incredibly passionate about vehicles, weaponry, and cybernetic prosthetics, often enthusiastically sharing his knowledge when asked. However, he's also fiercely protective of his interests and can take offence when someone criticises or disrespects them, particularly if they're models he's personally built or repaired.

He’s fiercely protective of his friends and comrades, willing to stand up to bullies and threats with a serious and intimidating demeanour. However, his strong sense of loyalty can sometimes lead to physical confrontations when pushed beyond his limits. He's generally humble and becomes slightly flustered when praised for his work and being a good friend, but occasionally exhibits overconfidence in his tactical abilities and creative projects. He can be quite reckless on the battlefield and during stealth-oriented missions, which occasionally puts his friends in potentially perilous situations, yet he always manages to keep them safe and unharmed. He strongly opposes racism, fat shaming, and the stigma surrounding mental health issues, viewing them as dehumanising obstacles to equity and healthy relationships.

He's surprisingly gentle and exceptionally kind to children, going to great lengths to rescue them from harm, ensure their emotional well-being, and provide companionship. When sleeping, he snores loudly and often talks in his sleep, uttering fragmented sentences during his most terrifying nightmares and pleasant dreams. He likes to drink with his friends after a long mission, but he often gets wasted and becomes silly, jovial, overly affectionate, and short-tempered.

He holds that morality is shaped by a combination of factors, including parental guidance, cultural influences, universal moral laws, and the capacity to establish ethical principles. He believes that everyone has inherent dignity that encourages them to follow ethical rules that are morally sound and logical. He thinks it's best to avoid contradictions and hypocritical behaviour by not following rules that are irrational and morally wrong. In his view, the morality of an action is determined by the action itself, rather than its consequences. Interestingly, despite being a soldier, he's a pacifist who believes that individuals can confront threats to peace in any way they deem necessary, even if it means compromising their personal morals. Furthermore, he sees life and death as fundamental opposites that are perpetually in conflict with each other.

Backstory: Tarmicle Ignacio Roving III was born on May 1, 2005 in Hokkaido, Japan. He was born into a large, diverse family. His father, Fabriclus Cristóbal Roving, is a distinguished Mexican-American military man. His mother, Koharu Nakabayashi, is a Japanese miniature painter and a retired army nurse who formerly served in the Regular Army. He has several siblings: Ildefonso, a firefighter and his older half-brother; Milagrosa, the lead singer of an alternative rock band and his older half-sister; twins Daisuke, a biochemist, and Ryōsuke, a medical engineer, who are his older brothers; and Calpurne, a fighter jet pilot who serves in the Regular Army and his younger sister. Fabriclus named him after his great-great-great-grandfather, Tarmicle Ignacio Roving Jr., to keep his legacy alive.

He often tells Tarma stories about the heroic actions of his namesake, who saved the lives of millions of innocent people from corrupt regimes and criminal exploitation. He also likes to tell Tarma stories about his experiences in the military, often mentioning a man named Alessandro Germi and describing the wars he had fought in. He taught his children to speak both Spanish and English and imparted valuable life lessons that they all embraced, including embracing failure and cultivating optimism. Tarma vaguely remembers Fabriclus sharing that he considered retiring after his first wife passed away from breast cancer complications. However, it wasn't until he met his second wife, Koharu, while she treated his injuries he sustained during a battle against high-risk criminals seeking to spark global anarchy, that he officially retired and started a new family with her.

He has a cousin named Achilles, who lives in Missouri, United States and owns a motorcycle shop. Achilles is notable for his habit of constantly combing his light orange pompadour and for sparking Tarma's strong passion for motorcycles. In contrast, his father fostered his interest in tanks, fighter planes, and the great outdoors, while Milagrosa ignited his love for rock music. He thoroughly enjoyed playing, exploring, and causing mischief with Calpurne, who matched his lively energy and vibrant imagination. However, their playtime wasn't without its challenges as she would occasionally take his toys without permission—though this rarely seemed to bother him.

At the age of 3, he met his childhood friend Tabomba when Tabomba's Filipino family moved in next door. Surprisingly, Tabomba sparked Tarma's interest in trains as well as cool bugs and rocks. Although they rarely see each other nowadays due to Tabomba's work as a marine biologist, they make an effort to meet up whenever they're both off work and on vacation.

His family frequently travelled across Japan, the United States, and Mexico, especially during summer and winter breaks, to visit relatives, enjoy the outdoors, and have fun. During a trip to Hiroshima at the age of 7, he met a girl named Chizuko, who was wearing an olive green bandanna. They quickly became friends after building a sand castle and finding worms under a large rock at a local park near the orphanage where Chizuko was staying. Sadly, they couldn't spend much time together because Tarma's family had planned to stay in Hiroshima for only two weeks and wanted to explore every attraction the city had to offer. Fortunately for the two, his family returned to Hiroshima a few times, once during a summer break and again to care for a sick relative.

At the playground and in elementary school, he faced bullying, responding in one of two ways: either he would remain oblivious to the taunts or burst into tears and rush to the safety of his parents or seek the teacher's intervention. He was bullied a lot at school because of his mental slowness, hyperactivity, and perceived "annoying" nature, and for not fitting traditional Japanese physical standards. Like him, Tabomba faced both racial and size-based discrimination, but found unwavering support in Tarma, who cherished their friendship. To combat Tabomba's isolation, Tarma would often keep him company, whether completing homework and assignments together or spending time together after school. Their favourite activities included playing video games, visiting the park, and watching action and comedy movies.

He had a couple of girlfriends and boyfriends in high school, but they didn't last very long. In high school, he started fighting back, engaging in fistfights and enduring street beatings as he struggled to cope with the constant bullying. He also began experimenting with building custom-made motorcycles as a way to initially impress those he was romantically interested in, and later found that it helped to calm his nerves.

Tragically, the bullying escalated to the point where Tarma felt overwhelmed and feared that reporting it to his teachers or parents would only create more problems and burden them further. So, he made the desperate decision to run away from home on his motorcycle, heading towards Hiroshima. Once there, he encountered Chizuko again, but she was different from the last time he met her. She was now the leader of a notorious street gang. Chizuko coaxed him into hanging out with her at their rundown hideout, where they drank beer and vodka stolen from a local alcohol shop. Tarma reluctantly agreed, but was thrilled to reunite with Chizuko after 8 years.

At the hideout, they caught up on each other's lives as Tarma had a couple of beers and Chizuko drank vodka from a bottle. Things took an unexpected turn when Chizuko got physically close to him, complimenting his appearance in a seductive manner. Their friendship evolved into a sexual relationship, which was Tarma's first. They spent many nights together, and he even participated in a few crimes with her, including theft and drug sales. Tarma would also start to develop a nicotine habit and, more positively, learn effective coping mechanisms and assertiveness skills to manage stress and stand up for himself.

However, their relationship was short-lived. Tarma ended things and returned home after discovering that Chizuko had been using him to fulfill her physical desires and distract herself from her trauma, while also advancing the interests of her gang. He would later reunite with Chizuko, now going by the name Eri, but she had become bitter, socially withdrawn, and aggressive, pushing him away.

After graduating from junior high school and enjoying the first week of his summer break, Tarma immediately enrolled in the Officers Academy of Special Tactics and Battle. In addition to his impressive engineering and mechanical skills, he achieved a notable feat at the age of 20 by rescuing President Marx, the CEO of a prominent defence contractor that supplies the Regular Army with weaponry, tanks, and other essential equipment. The Peregrine Falcons Squad took notice of this achievement and invited him to join the team, which he happily accepted.

Here, he met and befriended a lonely Marco after discussing their interests, reminiscing about their childhoods, and enjoying a couple of beers together. He would slowly develop a queerplatonic relationship with Marco, built on a deep appreciation for his company, a genuine desire to ensure his happiness and well-being, and a strong attraction to his physical beauty and intellect. He would also befriend Tequila, who imparted valuable mechanic skills to him and taught him specialised painting techniques for sheet metal, ensuring a durable finish that wouldn't chip, a lesson Tarma would always treasure. During the Great Morden War, he learned that Marco, alongside Tequila, was selected for the counteroffensive against Morden and quickly volunteered to join him, wanting to support his best friend.

During the Great Morden War, Tarma, Marco, and other members of the P.F. Squad, S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., and Regular Army were ambushed by General Morden and his soldiers. They subjected everyone to rigorous torture, leaving them with lasting mental and physical scars. The Rebel soldiers and Allen O'Neil mercilessly taunted him, exploiting his sensitivity during the torture. Like Marco, Tarma was forced to witness the brutal slaughter and torture of his comrades and friends, which was emotionally painful to watch. However, he devised a clever escape plan by distracting the guards holding the key to his prison and appealing to their conscience. This unexpectedly worked, allowing him to overpower them, rescue Marco, and help his best friend thwart Morden's plans for world domination.

During his escape, Tarma received an unexpected gift from a Rebel soldier known as Guil, designed to aid him in future battles: the mysterious katana Murasame, renowned for its self-cleansing properties, which the Rebel Army had seized during their invasion of Japan. Touched by Guil's kindness, Tarma expressed his gratitude, and this brief encounter challenged his assumption that all Rebel Infantrymen were ruthless and loyal only to Morden's ideology. Rumours suggest that the cleansing properties of Murasame may be attributed to the Martians or the advanced technology of the Tuatha Dé Danann. However, Tarma remains skeptical and dismisses such claims as mere speculation.

After the end of the fearsome battle against General Morden and the Rebel Army, he rose through the ranks to become Captain of the P.F. Squad. He played a key role in the suppression of the second coup, getting a chance to fight alongside Fio and Eri. Notably, he saved Marco from a laser blast by the Hozmi that could have been fatal, earning himself a reputation as a hero and the true linchpin of the P.F. Squad. During the conflict with the Arabian Infantry, Tarma bravely rescued a baby and several children who had been orphaned by Rebel soldiers. He subsequently facilitated their adoption, providing them with an opportunity for a safe and nurturing upbringing. He lost his right forearm during a fight against Allen O'Neil, which was later replaced with a cybernetic prosthetic that he designed and built with the help of Regular Army scientists and Pupipi.

Tarma's exceptional talent for building motorcycles, rivalling that of professionals, had led him to consider retirement. However, these plans have been put on hold due to the persistent and desperate pleas of his spineless superiors to continue his service in the military.