Legacy: Chapter One

With a suggested standard of two paragraphs or more and dedicated lore threads, this is for the more verbose roleplayer. (10+ sentences per post, on average.)
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Poetic Ghost
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Re: Legacy: Chapter One (Starting Soon! Full!)

Post by Poetic Ghost » Thu Dec 12, 2019 5:02 am

Yes, for people who’ve made characters and are in the RP already
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Re: Legacy: Chapter One (Starting Soon! Full!)

Post by UmbraSight » Sat Dec 21, 2019 2:56 am

How full is this fullness we are talking here
//… under her weight the floorboards gave, and she fell into the dark...// Fall of the Aelir Isles, Vol. III

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Re: Legacy: Chapter One (Starting Soon! Full!)

Post by Poetic Ghost » Sat Dec 21, 2019 6:43 am

Not so full that we couldn’t fit you in :)
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Re: Legacy: Chapter One (Starting Soon! Full!)

Post by UmbraSight » Tue Dec 24, 2019 1:21 am

Image

Full Name:
Kitana “Kit” Xylia Zahara

Age:
28

Gender:
Female

Race:
Human

Homeworld:
Cascading Vale
A Free World that exists outside the bleeding edge of Republian space, Vale has remained fiercely independent in a galaxy seeking its submission. The how is simple enough, the pride of Vale is the United Fleet. The mission statement of Vale is equally straightforward, if you wish to conquer the system, a price must be paid in blood and steel. Not many have been willing to test the colony’s resolve in this matter.

But, for those willing to come peacefully, Vale is always open to all walks of life, after all, the system’s colony ship the Groundsheer remains operational to this day as a trading depot and customs port for all to come to the system. And if you are in search of a shipwright, you’ll find few better than those that call the greater Vale colony their home.

Appearance:
Kit stands at a solid 5’ 7” with her boots off, and weighs in around 143 pounds. She is slim, but her musculature is solid. Her body has been moderately modified, bits and pieces of tech replacing flesh damaged in the carrying out of her duties. The modifications themselves are not well concealed by choice, it isn’t too hard to get a good skin graft when all is said and done, but she likes the look of it.

Weapons:
ARC-UZI
Stylized after an Earth originated submachine gun, the ARC-UZI provides its wealder a balance between light weight, accuracy, and rate of fire. Unlike its predecessor the weapon does not fire slugs, but rather super heated plasma bolts. The Uzi is most effective at medium to close ranges.

G-17 Marksman Rifle
A semi-automatic rifle favored among the specialist forces of Valen for its high degree of precision and accuracy and stopping power against most forms of body armor.
Though not her weapon of choice, Kit is well trained with this rifle. She isn’t the best shot, but she is reliable with it.
If she happens to be carrying it.

Mag Launcher
Favored by AMP killer units, what the mag launcher lacks in destructive capabilities, it more than makes up for in its ability to disrupt. The grenades fired by the launcher are highly magnetic and will stick to any metal surface that they come into contact with and on detonation they release an electromagnetic pulse to disrupt any nearby electronics. While it isn’t powerful enough to disable any AMP outright, it is useful to temporarily disable pilot video feeds or portions of the mech.

Valen Tactical Knife
It can act as a can opener, a screwdriver, a taser, a phone stand, a mirror, a compass, a saw, a letter opener, and, if one is in a real pinch, a knife.

Republian Demolitions Kit
A mixed assortment of explosive charges and the various tools needed for them to go boom.

A Lighter
The official crest of the UVCG, Cascading Vale with the Groundsheer orbiting above, is pressed into the side.
One should never underestimate what can be done with a little fire with enough edgenuity.

Affiliation:
United Valen Colonial Guard
The UVCG began as little more than a strained militia group working as the fingers of the fledgling government after the first planet in the system had been settled, and to this day the Guard has maintained much of that spirit. They act as more than just the ground forces in armed conflicts, providing aid to communities in times of natural and industrial disaster, and rapid response units to any Marauder incursions into the territory. Much colonial expansion within the Valen system is done on the public works that the UVCG engineering corps put into place.

Skills:
Girl knows how to start a fire, make things go boom as well, but nothing beats a nice fire, you know?

While not the best shot within the Valen military, Kit is in a league of her own when it comes to demolition work. She knows how to find her way through a hardened wall, how to cut off a street with a few gas canisters and a match, and how to make a building topple with some bricks of plastique. And enemy AMPs? It’s all about the joints, you know.

Personality:
Despite having spent a majority of her adult life between various military branches, Kit is not one for professionalism. She is personable, easy to talk to, but in conversation she never seems to offer up much about herself, though she doesn’t seem to be purposefully hiding elements of her life so much as she simply doesn’t care to talk about it. It is rare for her to stand on formalities and pay the proper respects that are due.

Despite how she looks, Kit isn’t rash or impulsive. She thinks through her moves and is more than willing to draw back if it seems she is overextending herself.

Biography:
Being perfectly honest, the Colonial Special Operations Division is a lot of words for “practitioners of asymmetrical warfare.” In the early days of the colonization of Valen’s words the C-SOD was invaluable at keeping pirates with advanced alien technology at bay. But, for what that’s worth, it’s history.

Nowadays C-SOD is where those with specialities are drawn.

Kit was born in a small agricultural community on Cascading Vale, a quiet close knit community who labored hard to keep the colony with food. Predictably, Kit hated it. A safe life? A predictable life? One spent quite literally waiting for grass to grow?

Kit left the day after her graduation party.

It is somewhat impressive how many branches of the Valen military that Kit managed to get herself booted out of. Her attitude never made her fit to be the model bootjock ready to snap to attention in starched blues at all hours of the night. It was the Guard where she finally found a place she could settle into.

She was twenty three when she was finally able to see combat. A raider group had found their way into an agricultural center much like the one she had grown up in on Cerulean Vale. The fighting had lasted most of a day and it seemed that the raiders were starting to fold when they played their ace, an old Soviet AMP salvaged from some scrap pile. Which didn't keep it from being a lethal piece of scrap. The ambush scattered the units of the Guard, and Kit and a handful of others soon found themselves holed up in an electrical plant.

Looking back at it, it wasn’t the greatest plan.

Kit’s squadmates drew the AMP into the powerplant, and Kit caused a set of reactors to blow. It wasn’t the greatest plan, but it was effective.

It wasn’t long after the battle Kit found herself being shuffled into a more specialized division. Atypical warfare is something she learned well, getting a feel for how a battle can flow, and how a well placed fire or toppled building can change the course of things. It is through this division that Kit received training with her personal AMP.

Her name and file was placed on a list that was sent in response to a request for support from the Republians, after all, every team needs someone who knows how to make walls disappear.

Misc:
Character Theme:
Arsionst’s Lullaby

A.M.P Sheet

Image

Mech Name:
Firebrand

Mech Specialty:
Defense and area denial.

Heavily armored, what Firebrand lacks in speed it more than makes up for in its defensive capabilities, however the mech’s main strength is its ability to use fire to block lines of approach for enemy AMPs.

Appearance:
Brushfire

Weapons:
HAVK Grenade Launcher
This anti-AMP weapon can fire explosive ordinance with all manner of secondary effects to disrupt and destroy enemy armor.

M-43 Series Plasma Arc
Firebrand’s right hand can fold back into its arm revealing a plasma cutter underneath. The diameter of the flame can be controlled, allowing for anything from precise cuts to use in combat against other AMPs.

Gas Canisters
Firebrand’s two missile pods have been modified to launch canisters filled with a volatile gas. On impact the canisters will disperse their contents.

Strike a match, ignite the scene.

Type-F3a “Inferna”
“What I don’t understand is why you need all these words when a simple ‘flamethrower’ suffices.”

The nozzle for the flamethrower is on the back of the mech’s left hand.

Special Attributes:
Despite its weight class Firebrand is outfitted with thrusters. Kit’s AMP will not be flying anytime soon, however the thrusters allow her to send Firebrand into sudden bursts of speed to evade attacks or close in on enemies.

Due to Firebrand's heavy armor, Kit relies on external cameras to provide her with a live feed of her surroundings.
//… under her weight the floorboards gave, and she fell into the dark...// Fall of the Aelir Isles, Vol. III

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Re: Legacy: Chapter One (Starting Soon! Full!)

Post by BanefulMelody » Tue Dec 24, 2019 5:25 am

Activating POST. Calling self-identification process.

Full Name:

Who am I?

You were named Aurora during initial startup.

Age:

I don't remember when I first... started up?

Your internal clock registers 895 days, 7 hours, 52 minutes, 9 seconds since activation. Your date of manufacturing is listed as January 3rd, 52 F.C.

What does that mean?

It has been approximately 2 years since your activation. It has been approximately 4 years since your manufacturing.

Which of those is my birth?

Activation is more comparable.

Gender:

So I was born? How?

Sexually androgynous. Designated female.

That's not what I - never mind. Why, then?

After trials of the prototype TDI-R1s in mock military situations, participants with designated female TDI-R1 units experienced lower anxiety, faster response times, and a higher recorded trust in their unit's instructions and information.

Race:

TDI-R1?

Tactical Dispatch Intelligence - Revision 1 are a series of humanoid artificial intelligence tools designed for processing, interpreting, and relaying combat data. They are fitted for a variety of practical roles both in and out of combat, including serving as intermediaries for commanding officers, performing reconnaissance and intelligence operations, and operating intelligence systems. Their construction consists of nanopolymers and rubberized plastics, making them lighter and cheaper to repair than previous aluminium and carbon fiber based skeletons.

Android?

Artificial humanoid creation.

So I was... made.

You were constructed in a factory.

Homeworld:

Where?

Alfar. It is a manufacturing hub located in core Republian space owned and operated by the military contractor firm Connectex. They are a common supplier of electronic equipment used in the manufacturing of mainframes, AMP computer systems, and occupational artificial intelligences.

Do I have a father there? A mother?

I do not understand.

...nevermind.

Do you have any other queries before boot is considered complete?

Appearance:

What do I look like?

Pulling footage...

Image

Weapons:

What's that in my hand? Is that a gun? I don't... like guns.

All TDI-R1 units come equipped with scanner pistols. They are primarily used for remote access to terminal relays, transmitting stronger signals than their own internal antennae, and, in necessary cases, discharging nonlethal electromagnetic pulses capable of stunning living beings and temporarily disabling non-shielded electronic devices.

Affiliation:

So... it's for my job, then.

It is for your role as a necessary asset in the Republian military.

Skills:

I'm necessary?

Very much so. TDI-R1 units are skilled communicators, capable of parsing information faster than biologicals, and come programmed with modern decryption/encryption protocols. Their ability to interface with most forms of technology is an invaluable asset. In administrative intelligence situations, multiple biological operatives would be necessary to meet the same level of oversight and output. Advanced artificial personality metrics allow TDI-R1s to make moral judgements as well based on a pre-programmed ethical framework. These values can be adjusted in the administration panel.

Alright... okay. I... I think I remember. I remember who I am.

POST complete.

Is it time to wake up?

Boot has been initiated.

I'm ready.

Boot Time - 13 milliseconds.

Theme Song:

Come Undone - The Delgados

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oAzgIHNNP4s

A.M.P Sheet

Mech Name: GSP-12 "Flea"

Mech Specialty: The Flea is a standardized ground-support tactical unit commonly used for scouting and reconnaissance in the field.

Appearance:

Image

Weapons: None.

Special Attributes: Focused on maneuverability over actual combat, the Flea's small size and powerful driving hydraulics in its limbs give it the ability to leap at sustained speeds of 120 MPH over moderately uneven terrain (reaching 60-80 on difficult terrain) and, using the gimballed compression thrusters in its rear, can achieve speeds nearing 300 MPH for bursts of ten to fifteen minutes, after which the thrusters must be given time to cool. Additionally, using the same thrusters, the Flea is able to launch itself several stories into the air and land safely, or propel itself up severe inclines and cliffsides, the clawed foot design of its stabilizers providing sufficient traction to avoid surface separation.
Last edited by BanefulMelody on Thu Dec 26, 2019 12:35 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Re: Legacy: Chapter One (Starting Soon! Full!)

Post by Poetic Ghost » Tue Dec 24, 2019 7:13 am

Beautiful, just beautiful.

BanefulMelody and Umbra are both accepted! Hopefully this game will start very soon :3
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Re: Legacy: Chapter One (Starting Soon! Full!)

Post by Quirbles » Fri Jan 10, 2020 11:59 pm

Image



J - 4 - X
"Don't make this harder than it has to be."



The interrogation room was lackluster.

He'd seen better, really-- usually, the Republia transport vessels that held him had decent-enough brigs. For some reason, though, it was always the planetside detainment centers that became the festering breeding grounds for disease and violence-- it was always the spaceships that they took better care of, in the end. Never the earthen buildings. Said a lot about where their priorities and true homeland was, he supposed. Every fuckin' human was the same, in the end.

An exile.

Two officers entered through a partially-rusted door, their insignias and surnames emblazoned across the chest like it was something to be proud of. Lot of power in a name, he'd learned-- especially with humans. They loved 'em. Named their ships, named their pets, named their friends and allies little aliases, and their enemies slurs. Funny how angry they seemed to get when that creative animosity was thrown back on 'em-- J-4-X wasn't a human, far from it, but he could think like one. Act like one. Sometimes, he even passed as one-- before they looked underneath the cloak, that is.

Yeah, that was usually when the guns got pulled out.


"State your name for the purposes of the investigation."

J-4-X regarded the two officers with a cool, coy little stare. Humans were far more expressive than him, and he used that to his advantage-- emotion was a damn good tell, no matter the situation, and he'd been blessed with the simple art of concealment. Nothing moved unless he told it to, unless he wanted it to, and it served him just fine.

"Ain't got one. Got a serial number, though. 'Least, that's what I think it is. J … 4 … X."

He paused, mouth closing as if he were smiling to himself. 'Course, those parts didn't move quite like a fleshborn, so the expression remained passive.

"Your kind loves callin' me Jax, though."

One officer scratched down a few notes.


"On the Terran Scale, please state your relative age."

Again, the wanderer couldn't help but smile to himself.

"Ain't got that, either." He inevitably spoke, raising a hand and propping an elbow on the table as if delicately holding a card between index finger and thumb. "Age implies an end, doesn't it? Also implies a beginning, too."

The officers looked at one another for a moment, apathetic. One resumed his scribbling as the other looked back upon the wanderer.


"State your biological species. If you do not know, a DNA sample will provide the closest approximation."

J-4-X sighed to himself.

"If I don't know it, you folks sure as hell ain't gonna find it on your databases. You can trust me on that." He replied, tone barely turning hostile for a moment before the wanderer leaned back, dipping a hand into the inner pocket of his jacket. Both officers reacted-- in a moment, two pistols were trained upon him, and J-4-X kept deathly still.

"Relax. I'm getting a God-damn pack of smokes."

With a slow withdrawal of the gloved hand, a pack and lighter was withdrawn from beneath the cloth. The tension relaxed. J-4-X let out a chuckle, flicked open the lighter, and lit himself a butt before holding out the pack to the two officers.

They did not react.

"That a no, then?" He muttered, shaking his head and dipping the lighter and pack into his jacket once more. Another tense-up from the guards made him withdraw his hand slowly, again.


"We have already confiscated your firearms-- please state any weaponry for the record."

Image

J-4-X didn't give a chuckle, that time-- he gave a snort.

"Firearms is an overstatement. All I got on me is a piece o'junk, and you took that already, didn't you? It's an old revolver-- like your little ancient ones, ain't it? Eight shots. Shoots bullets, needles, spikes-- anything I got on hand. Make the ammunition myself, since I ain't got the money to buy, half the time."

His gaze shifted from one officer to the next.

"The entire chassis got forged from junk, the barrel's junk, the stock and handle was made outta junk-- it is trash, through and through. Half the time, I gotta rebuild it after emptying a chamber. Can barely fan the hammer without the thing breaking apart in my damn hands, too. Honestly, if y'all wanna keep that damn thing, I'm all for it."

He paused, for a moment.

"On second thought, I still need it. Don't keep it."


"You were detained for illegal scavenging. Please state your occupation for the record."

For once, the wanderer finally showed emotion.

"That's what this whole damn thing is for?" It wasn't, as he'd suspected, an inquiry into his background as a mercenary-- no, he'd been caught scavving in the wrong region. Not that it was even the wrong region, because he had a damn permit for it-- one he promptly took out of his jacket, regardless of the officer's response or reaction, and slammed down on the table.

"I'm a junker, you morons. I got clearance in this sector-- or any sector west of the Andes Junction, for that matter. This system is legal for my craft."

The two officers sighed. The one who kept writing at his damn clipboard finally looked up, eyes narrowed. After a moment, his lips pursed.

"We apologize for the inconvenience--"

"Y'all ain't sorry for a damn thing. Get me out of these cuffs. Now. And get me back to my damn ship."



Image

His ship wasn't quite anything special.

It got the job done-- was a small freighter-class, barely large enough to hold over four people, though it more than made up for crew space in the storage capacity. The rust-bucket could carry about a ton and a half of scrap before its drives started struggling. Came with a magnet and excavation tool for the hard-to-reach areas, and a low-strength repulsion cannon on the front and back to clear any jams around it.

The ship wasn't his crowning jewel, though. A junker wasn't anything without some good junk.

Image

He'd found it while scavenging an old planetside battleground. Truly, the thing was on its last legs-- but a repair job and some modifications brought the old thing back from the brink, in the end, and it remained within the spacious cargo hold of his ship for when he'd inevitably need to use it. Great thing about the junker trade was that patrols rarely searched the hold-- it was, after all, just junk, and when they saw the rusted heap of a mech curled and deactivated in the corner, they always mistook it for another long-forgotten relic.

Just like him, really.

He supposed that was why he held such a fondness for it.

In terms of a specialty or weaponry, the mech seems to have a few kinetic cannons on the wrists and chest, but J-4-X never quite could get the ammunition for it-- not unless he wanted to sell everything he owned. Besides, the thing was meant primarily for hand-to-hand combat, it seemed. The hydraulic guards and heavy armor on the limbs seemed to dictate so. Best thing about that was the customization, really-- a few load-bearing industrial rail spikes he'd found in the vacuum of space were ample enough to get strapped to the knuckles; with that, the thing could cut through just about anything that wasn't upper-military grade.

Of course, he wasn't too keen on fighting armies, in the end, so that's not quite a concern, is it? Not like he'd actually use the damn thing, anyway.

To everyone he met, he was just a simple junker.

--

Theme: Memory

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Re: Legacy: Chapter One (Starting Soon! Full!)

Post by Drake » Sat May 30, 2020 8:01 am

Personal Information
Name: Gido Rankenn
Codename: Sting
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 34 years of age
Eye Color: Caramel
Hair Color: Brown
Mech name: Twilight
Affiliation: Republia
Homeworld: Ares
Orientation: Heterosexual
Occupation: Test pilot
Height: 6'2" (~188 cm)
Weight: 173 lbs (~78.5 kg)
.
Hardships of War
.
.
Image
His name is Gido Rankenn, or at least it was until he got drafted into the military. There they don't often use names anyways, so he got stuck with a nickname: Sting, because he looked younger and smaller than others, but packed a punch nonetheless.

Gido is a well-built man with the looks of a still blossoming teenager, many would say it was due to some special gene or simply he was lying about his age, but those statements couldn't be further from the truth. His chocolate hair and intense, earnest stare are, perhaps, the most well-known features of his face, given his inability to properly grow a beard and the commonplace color of his eyes. However, Sting isn't best known for any of that. An ex-pilot on the battlefields, a catastrophic accident left him quite scarred, permanently damaging a great deal of his body's left side, multiple scars clearly visible over damaged skin and, perhaps more obviously, a prosthetic arm and leg to boot. Such, to him, was the reality of war.

If you ask anyone about him, they'd say he's a quiet person who's hard-headed and incredibly driven towards a single goal once he sets it on his mind, and said goal more often than not involves his personal A.M.P., which probably explains his odd fixation with piloting. In truth, however, he is a quite sad individual, a few stretched out battles taking their toll on his body and mind. Piloting was, perhaps, the one thing that made him truly feel alive, and his absolute lack of self-preservation is swimmingly showcased by what many would call 'suicide piloting'. It's more than made up for by his excellent skills as a pilot, honed through daily practice routines and an experimental system he was picked as the subject for.

His main motive for flying? Finding a nice place for his final rest. He has a mission to fulfill and people who deposited their hopes and dreams onto him on their very last breath, so he cannot honor them by taking a coward's way out. Rankenn will fly with all his ability until he can no longer move. Or at least he thought so, yet the battlefield had other plans. Stripping him of his functional, human limbs, he was cast away from the army, and eventually climbed into a position good enough to be a lab guinea pig to a new system developed to reinsert those who wore prosthetics back in the field of battle.

While his physical skills may have deteriorated with time, Gido's aim was very threatening and still holds up quite well despite his circumstances. His close-quarters abilities are more questionable, although nothing to scoff at, he probably got clunkier and less agile due to his injuries. Perhaps his most evident quality, though, is his piloting, even if life took away his arm and leg from him, it's as if that barely matters with Twilight's AXIS system's most recent upgrades, as some say the Sting is as deadly as ever, if not moreso.

He's usually equipped with standard gear, body armor to avoid being shot dead by practically anything, a simple pistol for security reasons and the standard medical aid kit, just in case everything goes south and he needs to patch someone up. Other than that, his days as a soldier instead of an improvised security guard and full-time test pilot mean he doesn't require to carry any sort of heavier loads anymore, although he would have absolutely no qualms with doing so.

Misc: Rumor has it that Gido has a soft spot for adventure books and jazz.

Theme: Groovy Duel
.

Image
Standing at 16.5 meters (~54 ft) and weighing about 7.2 metric tons while exceeding weight limit at nearly 15 tons, the PDTU-026 v2.0, also called Twilight, is an experimental psycho-drive unit tailored to better accomodate it's pilot, it had a very present hand on design and technical choices from Sting himself, feeling more like his machine so he could properly deliver the most accurate feedback on the psycho-drive's responsiveness to his brainwaves. Attaching his prosthetic limbs to the specific compartments in the cockpit, he's able to quickly control movement just as he would with a normal limb, perhaps even slightly faster.

The purpose of the suit is to sacrifice as much defense for quickness and absurd combat power, hence why it's crafted by lighter metal alloys that can still take some punishment, yet allow for much better maneuverability and responsive controls. Packed with a medium and long-ranged arsenal, it is better suited for overwhelming opponents with it's surprisingly nimble presence, wearing defenses down with strong projectiles until it can either approach safely or simply annihilate the opponent from afar. Thus it is outfitted with multiple options to adapt into any situations.

It's light coloring earned it the nickname of Twilight, for even though it's bright, seeing it in the battlefield means the end is near. Yours or his.

Image
Perhaps the second most vital spot of the A.M.P., this is where most important systems reside and, thus, it is the most heavily guarded portion of the mech with a mixture of alloys granting it more resistance.

It is equipped with the aim assist system which grants auxiliary course correction for projectiles and movements, correcting the pilot's mistakes as they fight extremely high speed battles. It also contains cameras displaying the surroundings on a perfect vision radius that is immediately transmitted to the cockpit, therefore enabling the concealed pilot to always know his surroundings, the cameras are also able to change between normal, night and heat modes to enable a better assesment of the battlefield. Part of the re-entry coolant system is placed on the back of the head, releasing excessive heat and counter-acting the effects of atmosphere deterioration of A.M.P.s. The final quintessential system partially present on the head is the AMBAC (Active Mass Balance Auto-Control), in other words, by playing around with the suit's center of mass and rebalancing it throughout the body, as well as adjusting minimal movement, it manages to perfectly adapt to frictionless situations, such as combats in space.

As for accessories, aside from the stylish V-fin, Twilight's head comes with a set of bright spotlights functioning as lanterns, as well as four mounted submachine guns on the four cavities by the sides, serving for personal defense against opponents that are too close and require a good distracting so Twilight can reposition.

Image
These lengthy limbs function as the A.M.P.'s main source of attacking power, be it carrying weapons to blast away opposition, tossing poles and boulders as distractions, or smashing themselves with powerful thrusters, they are quite capable of bringing destruction to wherever they are pointed. Less protected than the head, and revamped into a more aerodynamic design since the first prototypes, these bad boys come outfitted with two rocket thrusters each, placed near the elbow as to violently rocket towards an unsuspecting foe.

The forearms' loose compartments can slide back to reveal a 90mm machine gun with considerable destructive capability. The hands can outstretch in order to reach and taunt enemies, and their special coating make them a better transmitter of heat than most of the suit's body, containing an extreme heating system to wear down heavily armored foes from either a distance or simply punch through them at a very close and personal fight. These do consume fuel quicker than expected and are not always recommended for possibly overheating the systems. Twilight's fingers can also be used to store certain substances, in case someone ever feels it's relevant to load some gas or super resistent glue or whatever, Gido still has no use for it, he simply never complained.

Perhaps the one biggest motive as to why the Twilight's potential entices many to this project, the amount of compatibility with weapons of destruction this suit has is outstanding on it's own, although that is not to say it can carry or effectively use anything, it can pick from a wide variety and even improvise some weapons at the battlefield. The most commonly used attachments, however, are:
  • Beam Repeater Rifle: A semi-automatic laser rifle that melts through armor and can effectively wear them down. Twenty-five shots per clip. Green-hued beams.
  • Anti-Projectile Shield: A large shield weighing around two tons, especially coated against both beam and conventional weaponry, it adds to the durability of the suit for as long as it's around. Can also be tossed and used in a charge, although not recommended.
  • Beam Cutter (x2): Two tiny recipients containing raw energy that can be utilized as blades to cut through dented armors, usually stored around the waist and shot out at a moment's notice, they have varying levels of effectiveness, utilizing more and more of it's energy reserves the longer and more intense the beams are. When it runs out, it can be recharged by attaching them back to the suit, or at the base.
  • Hyperbazooka: Six warheads per clip, an alternative to the missiles contained within the suit, better suited for expeditious combat as the aim assist combined with the overall quickness of the shot, as well as the pilot's input, make it easier to land on mobile targets.

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The most relevant part of Twilight, it's where the A.M.P. becomes one with it's pilot, gifted with a 360° cockpit containing panels and controls for practically every system operated by the suit, it may seem too much too eat at once but it is quite run of the mill once you get used to it. The hardest task would be to keep track of the extensive UI interface giving you plenty numbers as it tracks speed, verticality, horizontality - for both you and locked target - as well as heat levels, pressure, state of each limb, ammunition and much more. It requires excellence to fly an A.M.P., and Twilight's state-of-art insides certainly showcase much needed proof to that.

It is also here where the second part of the coolant system can be found, more specifically on the vents scattered throughout the front and back of the suit. The coating here is also reinforced, given the content carried within, and from it's back, the A.M.P. may send out the pilot into a small pod containing the cockpit and a few thrusters to lead him away from battle may the occasion of retreat arise. Attached to it's back are also two extra engines with separate fuel to push the limits of the suit even further beyond when it comes to speed.

The sole weapon system presented on the torso are numerous heat-tracking tiny missiles stored close to the 'chest' area, especially protected, they can be released little by little or form an unparalleled barrier of chaotic explosions. They are better fit to hit a immobile or slower target rather than quick moving giants, however.

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Twilight's legs are the main source of it's breathtaking mobility, containing five thrusters each to catapult this 7 ton giant into unbelievable speeds, they also count with the two, more potent and deattachable thrusters on it's torso, as well as two more attached to it's hips, pushing the A.M.P. to ridiculous speeds not many can perform on. Crafted to amplify it's mobility and aerodynamic design, there is not much else aside from the storage of fuel, the main source of velocity and an assortment of pistons and spring-like mechanisms to quickly bounce it back after a landing, permitting it to move at a moment's notice posterior to landing.

There is also enough power to move the suit on the ground, walking and running as a person, and while it is no match to the usual hovering it may pull off, it's still considerably faster than most grounded suits and vehicles, be it due to size or simply by the sheer potency of it's engines, the mobility of the Twilight is greatly attributed to it's astonishing 'legs'.
Drake was feeling just fine again today.

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