#lancer oc rp blog

[hot-claws-420]

AAUUUUUUGHH i feel so WIERD

part of its familar. yearning. craving. STINGIN in my brain and daydreems of battl... tastin hot blood on my face. burning claws RIPPIN through flesh and metal. my enemies SCREAM as i fuckin GETT THEM HAHAHAHEHE!!!! GLORY!!!!

i keep imaginin cigarette in pieces under my claws. i stand over it bloody and maimed but VICTORIUS!!! QUEEN OF MONSTERS!!! SHE WHO MAULS!!!!

but...

but waht the FUCK is this OTHER FEELIN!?!?!

i feel like i gott a rock in my tummy. idk y. i dont feel fear anymore. Signal was the last thing that ever scared me but im over that now. i know damn well i aint scared to fight them.

when did i stop bein scared of my nightmares? wen i was 16? after SPS-3 died? tch

so fuckn WHY??? y does my chestand my head hurt thinkin about siggy on the loose!?! Y did i start to feel it do the SAME THING durin my first kaiju hunt??!?

i remember it perfectly. walls of attica city behind. giant mosnter in front. pack of hunters at my sides. BLOODLUST. eyes focused on PREY.

but 4 a second. a thought of the peopl in the city behind me. then a STONE in my GUT!!! Y???!?!?!

[shot-glass-speedloader]

//[OBSERVATION: INPUT]> You have [spoken] much about [origin], [curiosity-thing]- both in word and in [voice]. //[OBSERVATION: ELABORATION]> You [see] backwards with unshielded-eyes, but your vision is [inverted]. —— //[QUERY> ANALOGY: ATTEMPT]> You speak on betting-horses. Do you wish to [jockey the racehorse]? To take [control] over the [winning gamble]? Or to simply watch from the [sidelines] and let the [dice] land where they fall? //[ANALOGY: ATTEMPT]> {We} are observers as well. [You] are {our} [racehorse]. It is {our} nature to [be inquisitive], and so {we} are pleased to watch the [track] in the audience of the dark-skies. //[PREDICTION: INTERPOLATE]> {We} do not offer this victory-claimer. Take up the [reigns], o’ [curiosity-thing], and [give] {us} a [show]. ———— //[CONNECTION: TERMINATED]> [X]

Uuuuuh weird but I reckon I'll oblige the question.

I'd say take control is a strong way to put it. None a' that. But if I stand to make a few Manna on a bettin' horse, I put my money down.

I wanna live all charmed and cushy-like. And I wanna be on the team that don't crumble and fall out from under me. Simple as that.

Signal is gonna win all this mess, and it's gonna pay me nicely in the process. If i do what they say and make myself a useful asset, I'll get mine. That's the mark of a good boss in my eyes. So, all that said...

//GLORY TO THE MERCENARY MONARCH\\

[corsair-news-alliance]

Interspacial shipping delayed by sudden spike in greywash swarms

Late Monday morning, IPS-N freighter lead Hobson Jones was deploying his first round of ships when he noticed a strange anomaly on his radar. 

“It was like nothing I’d seen,” Jones told reporters. “Normally, greywash swarms are an issue, of course, but never on this level. My guys had to go way off course just to avoid them.” 

In recent years, concerns have been raised by astrobiologists on the amount of debris in space. With flash printing being a cornerstone of Lancer technology, its ecological impact has gone widely ignored, with pileups of waste slowly increasing. 

“It’s been an issue for a while,” USB scientist Dr. Gordon Wells told our reporters. “That debris isn’t just in space. It catches on nearby orbits, often causing meteors or blocking much-needed sunlight on lesser-known planets. And now, we’re facing the consequences of our actions. Greenhouse gases are on the rise, local planetary wildlife is being threatened, and we’ve attracted the attention of one of the few types of machines we don’t entirely know how to control. Greywash.” 

Greywash, a type of unregulated nanite, is mostly seen as a fearmongering subject these days. Since the joint Albatross/DoJ/HR maneuver to confront the Maw, the subject of Greywash swarms has largely been put to bed. It remains an issue at Bo, where outbreaks of nanowash are a semi-regular occurrence. 

Unfortunately, this has led to two issues snowballing into one. The uptick in space debris has provided a source of “food” for Greywash, causing their numbers to surge to concerning levels. IPS-N and independent shipping companies are already bracing for the impact this will have on their shipping crews, as freighters risk losing both lives and cargo to the hungry swarms. 

“If we don’t find a way to contain the problem soon,” Dr. Wells added. “We may face another massive outbreak - one that we are no longer prepared for.” 

This has been Hertz and Transistor, with Corsair Weekly News.

Thanks Hertz and Transistor!

Till Legends Bleed!

//Morse\\

[notyourhound]

Ya know what, figure its time to introduce yall to another relic from my day. JESTER, Say hi. Eh? Oh fuck! Omninet access! Uh, Hey Random People Following Kaya, I'm Jester! Technically my names ACTUALLY "EXPERIMENTAL PROTOMIND SENTIENCE DERIVED FROM MONIST-1 ENTITY CLASSIFICATION: LUCIFER" but thats a damn mouthful, so, Jester! In you guys terms, I'm a LUCIFER-Class NHP, which to be honest, real rude name, cmon, even if he does seem pretty cool from this old Cradle Anime I found (though WOW old cradle food service seems awful) - Anyways! I've been with Kaya since SecComm, And she fished me out with her when she woke up!

I'm gonna regret letting you access the omni, aren't I ABSOLUTELY! I've ALREADY looked up some fucked up shit, enjoy the new recommendations! Side note what the HELL is a HORUS and why are they horny for Not-My-Dad?

[aim-hai-strike-true]

Did you get it this time?

No, you blinked. One more time...

It's alright, just use that photo.

Hai, dearest, you realise that this is going to confuse people? Along with your surgeries and cosmetics...

That's the idea.

Ooc: I apologise for the complete lackcof consistency I hit random once on the picrew. and thought "fuck it, that's how Hai looks now"

Their original design was completely different.

So, apologies if anyone is confused as to the vibes this is meant to give. Because there was no intention behind it just a sleep deprived lesbian and rng.

[lancerdelta]

[Bomb.omf]

[Attached is an image of what is unquestionably an IED, being held in someone's hand. Attached to it is an oxygen canister.]

[Boom.omf]

[Attached is a video of an object being ejected from a ship into the vacuum, before it explodes far too beautifully for something in space, where there is no oxygen. The entire time, there is borderline-manical laughter playing in the background.]

[leastinsanesscpilot]

>//RECORDING: 5017.DEMETERSBOUNTY[APMS : : : COMBAT LOG] >//CLEARANCE: APMS-341-A >//checking… >//TRC_ACCEPTED. OPEN RECORDING : : : Y >//BEGIN RECORDING

[There is an impact, and then there is silence. They are only here for one thing.] [There are flickers on the dying surveillance, easily brushed off as S.O.G. Wheellock making their way deeper into the ship. Two figures clad in dark hardsuits, one tall and broad and the other small and lean. They move quickly, quietly, slipping just underneath the radar of each squabbling force aboard the Bounty.]

[On BRIGAND's HUD, one more feed goes dark.] [Then, a single surveillance camera comes back online.]

[The SILVERED SICKLE stands still and looming, chassis folded open like a flower. Unscathed, untouched with its reactor cooled. The Krakatoa Thermobaric Flamethrower is cold, never fired. One step, two stumbling steps.] [A corpse lays at the Silvered Sickle’s feet, untouched but for its open throat.] [Z-341-A is dead. The intruders are gone.] [APMS-341-A's casket is missing.] >//END RECORDING >//T_SIG : : [REDACTED] //<

[A voice crackles over comms, nervous and hesitant. A member of the bridge crew]

Captain? We have some kind of approaching object, inbound really fast. A lot of the external sensors have been knocked out, I’m not quite sure what exactly it is, might just be space debris, but we should probably brace. I’ll try to figure some more details, but we’re not exactly working at full capacity here.

It is clear that Brigand had only been gone a moment, perhaps to think without the expectant stares of his crew. He bursts through the door, stalking to his perch above the field of normally lit terminals. Instead, only a handful are lit, and the crew huddle around them. Like beggars 'round a barrel fire. All glance nervously up at him. The rage is palpable, radiating off him in pungent waves.

[BRIGAND} BY RA I WILL F L A Y THE NEXT PERSON WHO INTERRUPTS ME.

His voice is terrible. Booming forth, loud as the gunnery deck. The distortion of Shallow Crimson Tide peaks and warbles, straining under volume and rage. He shakes visibly, even through the heavy half-frame. Yet it is not all anger in that tremble, there is exhaustion too. It seems he would scream again, with more threats and more useless rage. But he stops. He takes a long moment, heaving heavy, shaking breaths. Working the forge's bellows in reverse. When he speaks, the rage is dulled, but not gone. His voice is mostly even, trembling just slightly.

[BRIGAND} POINT DEFENCE? |Rapier|> Not on from that angle Cap, whatever it is, its threading our asshole like a sonic needle. [BRIGAND} THRUST? [Cossack]> Still down sir, we're drifting just slightly though and from what we can tell it's adjusting course. [BRIGAND} E T A? [Cossack]> Impact in. . .

The room holds it's breath. Brigand seems to frown, the baleful red light shining oppressive on the poorly lit bridge. Cossack works in near silence; humming softly to herself, and by proxy, the entire room. Everyone watches, everyone waits, and everyone listens. All present welcome the ever-brief respite. They crane their necks to listen closer to the chiptuned lullaby. They slump in seats almost forgetting the charnel house outside. The room breathes, for moment. For a moment, there is peace.

This peace is rudely interrupted. A dull blue glow fills the room as the holographic projector comes to life with a crackle. The remaining lights flicker and dim as power is diverted to the hungry projector. Cossack's digital voice is tinged with the same humour and disbelief, just as before. And just as before she looses a nervous, oddly melodic laugh.

[Cossack]> Impact in roughly 5 minutes sir, realtime, give or take a minute.

Brigand sighs, it is nearly imperceptible. It would've been easy to mistake it for the subtle sounds of any ship. Like a house settling. He does nothing, simply standing there, staring at nothing. The room is quiet again.

[Cossack]> Three minutes sir.

Still he says nothing. Still he does nothing. He stands there, a desperate statue. Someone starts to hum, quiet and nervous. They copy Cossack's tune, a digital lullaby, sung in flesh.

[Cossack]> Two minutes! What are we doing sir?! [BRIGAND} WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE ME DO? [Cossack]> Sir?

The tune has changed now. It is a funeral hymn, an ancient sailors shanty. More of the crew take up the song. It is old, visceral, haunting. Cossack stares at her Captain in disbelief.

[Cossack]> SIR!? One minute!

Brigand takes up the chant as well. His voice, even through the distortion, is a deep well of sorrow and hurt.

He is broken.

So deeply broken.

Despite the everything, Cossack continues to try, she continues to do her job, to serve her captain. She tracks the object, counting down the seconds to impact:

[Cossack]> 10 . . . |A L L| The king and his men. . . [Cossack]> 9 . . . |A L L| Stole the queen from her bed . . . [Cossack]> 8 . . . |A L L| And bound her in her bones. . . [Cossack]> 7 . . . |A L L| The sea be ours . . . [Cossack]> 6 . . . |A L L| And by the powers . . . [Cossack]> 5 . . . |A L L| Where we will, we'll roam . . . [Cossack]> 4 . . . |A L L| Yo ho, all togethor [Cossack]> 3 . . . |A L L| Hoist the colours high. . . [Cossack]> 2 . . . |A L L| Heave ho, thieves and beggars. . . [Cossack]> 1 . . . |A L L| And never shall we die . . .

The ships shudders.

[styx-class-nhp]

>> Hey Styx

>> I am going to get some shore leave on a station soon.

>> I was wondering what i would need to requisition (Buy? That's what civilians do, right?) To try and cracking that firewall.

>> Clad doesn't like the idea for some reason, but as long as I have a backup it should be fine, right?

>> Anyways. Just need to know what hookups you'll need. Wetware is kinda spooky when you look at it too hard.

//Janissary\\

Buy, yes, trade goods or currency for one another. It's a strange system.

Clad is right to be concerned, if this goes wrong it could have some serious side effects! This one will not deny you your right, but must warn you so. Are you sure you want this?

If so, you'll want to look at getting a semi-invasive SEC, or failing that, a- hang on let me get this right...

[data encrypted]

As well as that, you'll want to take endocrine suppressants, as I have found out the hard way cheaper wetware HATES the cortisol levels found in soldiers and the like. Does not taste good.

If you're up for something rather in depth, a full subjectivity enhancement suite or even a high quality SOMA pod would be very useful. Player 2 neural bypass could also work, though I doubt you'd want to take quite that risk.

Oh, and hydrate, that's also important. This is gonna be a strain on some systems that don't generally have much in the way of cooling.

[hot-claws-420]

@shot-glass-speedloader

Bitch!!

[shot-glass-speedloader]

OOC POST

Gonna do some writing for Stinkerton after I've had a sleep but for now here's a funny shitpost I made before the game.

[shot-glass-speedloader]

Great news! Timin' lines up nicely with my next sortie. Bless.

You uh. Do war crime cases? I could do with DOJ/HR off my ass. Got 'em mighty pissed off during CMC's little civil war.

- @shot-glass-speedloader

Happy to discuss business with you! I'll be in touch about the specifics of your case.

[aim-hai-strike-true]

Approaching research outpost █████

Retrograde burn in 5...4...3...2...1...

Decelerating from nearlight

ETA: 36 hours, eighteen minutes, five seconds exactly.

Hey R██, you excited for this? First combat outside of the interest too right? Such a record already, and now you get to spice it up!

I'm busy Inkwell.

Tch. You're in a sorry state. I thought you liked my "unwarranted and uplifting mood"

If someone hadn't misfired their "experimental" rifle and damn near cored the reactor, I'd be a lot cheerier. As it stands I have to wrestle with the fact that my life is partially in the hands of someone who nearly got us killed before we even deployed!

Touché. Though in my defense, the gyros hate an unstable platform, and it was your fault the ship was about as steady as D█████'s temper.

I don't want excuses. I want to know you won't core our reactor, Hai.

Yes sir.

You say you never miss, but passions as my witness, I am glad you missed today.

[twoforflinching-ktbedition]

For pilots used to more, let's say 'esoteric' control systems, there's actually a very simple two-step process to bypass IPS-N's manual control setup without needing access to any other companies' proprietary tech.

First, you need to install a Player_Two Neural Bypass. Standardized non-corpro wetware, surprisingly enough, if a bit obscure.

Second, get yourself fully certified as a Blackbeard pilot and voilá! You no longer have to interface with your chassis of choice manually. Please note that combat efficacy may vary depending on your piloting preferences.

-Han Jae-

[styx-class-nhp]

Okay... just some finishing touches and... done!

Oh I hope she likes this. He said Bonnyhag right? I swear if I get the planet wrong....

[A brief video of an alien planet. No. Not a planet. Just a simulation, crafted with love and attention to detail. An isolated shore, hugged on all sides by a crescent of cliff faces. White sand is softly illuminated by a starlit sk- did she add those manually?! There's no way... those artistic imperfections are just artifacts from data compression, surely?

A cave in the cliff face is lit by crackling torches. Archaic. Homely. Deeper within, dazzling crystal fractals enshrine a bed of pearls, a space designated for any new avatars to load into and see the twinkling lights.

To the left, a pier juts from the sand, leading to a large, wooden stilt-house, lit by a crackling firepit and, of all things, lava lamps. The buildings innards are not visible to the camera, but it has many high windows that allow coloured light to spill out.

The ocean laps gently at the shore in time with Styx's breathing - her tail is wagging double that rhythm]

[Updating access: admin privileges granted to user(s):No-Future]

[Inviting user(s): @dragstone-of-no-future ]

[hot-claws-420]

[Audio of Sally sniffling and crying so loudly and pathetically.]

Ur actions could make a dieff3nrces and a good 1

hicc

i still believ in u

sniff

i cant tell teh difference btween the stars outside and the spots in smy vision somethign moves in my peripehrey and i dont know if its Frontliner or my misnd playing gtricks on me i think i have a fever its beautiful watching the embers burn outt in front of my euyes. space is huge, neverending. thre are enoguh stars that, even fi every spark i ladi my eyes on was immedaitely snuffed out, there would stil be anight sky full

thatmakes me feel a little bettter even if i weilded the power to darken thes night sky i could deal no reaal damag. changeno-one's lives by much i like to tjhtink my actions odnt make much differernce i think i have a fever it makes it a little aasier to exist

//sharko\\

[hot-claws-420]

do u guys think Eschaton wood lett me steal enough kaiju bones to build a throne?,???