M.A.G.M.A: Mobile Attack and Garrison Mechanised Armour


Laggy Lagiacrus

Original poster
“Welcome, pilots, to the LPAO headquarters.”
A tall, imposing figure stood at the hidden entrance to the League’s base, which was under the ground of the abandoned landfill planet. Typical of such a planet, the stench was horrendous, and pollution was as thick as the piles of rubbish and discarded items that formed small mountains on the dwarf planet’s surface. A crowd was in front of him, and though they had gathered from different countries, they were all similar in one sense – they could pilot MAGMA armour, and they were waging war on those who dared to abuse this power. Standing at the back, as the second-in-command spoke via radio, was a reclusive and logically-minded boy of but seventeen, drawn into a war he did not even want to fight. Nevertheless, he had boarded the transport from Earth to LF-424, and was listening to a man who appeared to be clad in roboticised crusader armour. Even over the radio, his voice was loud and commanding, his personality fierce and fiery. “Underneath our feet is a sprawling complex of everything you’d expect our base to have. We will, if you are accepted, be sending you on missions as often as possible. You will, most likely, encounter heavy resistance. There is a chance that you will die. But! You knew that as soon as you decided to join. You have done this of your own free will. Therefore, I will let you in, and allow you to be examined. You will be directed to a simulated combat arena, where you will fight an instructor, who will also assign you a rank based on your performance. Administration will handle the rest. It’s half-past five in the afternoon, and I am Jonathan Hughes, second in command. Watch your step as you go down the shaft, you should activate your boosters after a few hundred metres to slow your fall, as artificial gravity will be on. Good luck, recruits.”
At which point, he moved to one side, opening the entrance – a hole in the ground, roughly ten metres in diameter. Which he jumped down. And, like a multitude of mechanical lemmings, the crowd followed.
((This is being typed from my iPod, so sorry if stuff seems messed up in my post. I will rewrite it when I can.))

Amyst listened to the voice, grabbing onto one of the many supports on the wall. It was a bit strange, being around people who didn't know her real gender. On this ship, she was not Amyst, a woman who had joined and concealed her gender to hide and escape from her mistakes. No. Instead she was Lethan, a man who had joined to get out of the slums. It was a feeling you just couldn't get used to. The voice rambled on and Amyst barely listened. When he was done the crowd began to follow him and she likewise did the same.

Now, she was Lethan.
((Hope you don't mind that i'm new to Rp))

Mario was feeling unconfident since he was only fifteen and the most inexperienced but he couldn’t back out now since he had escaped from his foster family so he can enlist in the LPAO. His lack of confidence was coming from him not receive any training .When the second in command was done talking Mario stood still for a few minutes while he was watching the crowd that was entering the hole , he gathered all his courage and started walking to the hole. He said to himself “Ok let’s do this” as he walked in the hole.
((Hope you don't mind that i'm new to Rp))

Mario was feeling unconfident since he was only fifteen and the most inexperienced but he couldn’t back out now since he had escaped from his foster family so he can enlist in the LPAO. His lack of confidence was coming from him not receive any training .When the second in command was done talking Mario stood still for a few minutes while he was watching the crowd that was entering the hole , he gathered all his courage and started walking to the hole. He said to himself “Ok let’s do this” as he walked in the hole.
((I'm afraid you're going to have to submit a form in the OOC if want to take part. If you want an RP where you don't have to do this, may I suggest the jump-in board?))
Lawrence had been in the front of the crowd as the commander gave his small speech. As he finished his speech with instructions on what the new people should do to get inside he watched the man open a rather large door revealing a dark hole that seemed to stretch down forever. He was about the fourth person to reach the entrance and quickly leaped inside of it. For about twenty seconds there was nothing but darkness and only the whirring of his suit and the all the gauges on it could be heard. Once the altimeter told him that he had descended two hundred and sixty meters he turned on his boosters in his back and felt the force of gravity hit him while slowing his descent.

As he saw the ground and neared his landing he disengaged his thrusters allowing himself to drop the last ten or so meters. Once he was landed he made sure to move out of the way of the tunnel so that others wouldn't land on him. As he looked around the base he could see that it was large enough to accommodate even the largest of the suits and then some. It looked sort of like a hospital the way everything was so sterile and organised. It made him think back to the few times he was in the hospital and how much he hated it. As he reminisced he could hear more people landing and walking about, all he did was wait for one of his friends to land so that he could converse with them.
Amyst carefully eyed the hole in the ground; the entrance. She was a little bit nervous, she had to admit. Even her steel outside couldn't mask that. She would be around many people that she could never trust with her true gender. If her true gender were to be revealed, everything in her past would come to catch up with her and ruin her. Amyst Werren, the disgraced soldier. She still remembered the headlines from years ago. Since then she had run away, presumed dead, and became a new person. Someone no one would suspect would be the fighter from all those years ago.

Lethan Bemot. That was who she was now. Amyst Werren no longer existed when she was in this building or out on the field in battle.

For some reason that last thought made a thin arrow of sadness shoot inside of her. She ignored though and jumped into the hole, quickly turning on her thrusters when she neared the ground. Then she landed, her boots making a loud thud as they hit the floor.

Lethan Bemot entered the building.
Already, Vespertiline could feel her eyes automatically rolling in distaste at the over-enthusiastic reactions surrounding her during Hughes' little introductory 'pep talk'; had they no idea as to the hardship they had willingly enrolled themselves in? She doubted many, if any at all, were experienced enough.
Stood nearer to the back of the throng, the female known fairly ambiguously as 'Grum', despised masses of company; she found 'mob mental-collectivity' was inevitable, and thus led to undesired results such as violence, or a lack of common sense and logic. And Grum was of such a controlling nature that any failure or disaster remotely associated with her, stung more than any wound inflicted in combat.

Vespertiline allowed her fellow hopeful 'recruitees' to pass before her, throwing themselves into oblivion with an already emerging camaraderie that sickened her. Friendship was also similar to crowd mentality in the fact that it only slimmed chances of success and diluted logic with excessive emotions.
Once the crowd had thinned sufficiently, Grum began a graceful, modest trot towards the gaping entrance and without force, stepped into space...
The cool darkness was almost enjoyable as she slid through emptiness, before a computerised voice obliged her to engage the boosters fitted with her suit. It needn't have spoken, as Grum has leapt from many a high place before, and was used to gauging distances without technology to confirm her accuracy. Besides, the thrill of the unknown amused her.
Her landing was lady-like, barely emitting a sound as her boots kissed the floor, much to the admiration of those choosing to watch the last few arrivals. Tilting her head to one side, Grum's lips curled into a wry smile, as if to say 'Well, what did you expect?'
Sliding her way through any onlookers, with the fluidity or smoke, she made her way towards the complex, already cracking her knuckles in anticipation of the simulated combat testing.
Being one of the people nearest the rear of the people jumping down the tunnel through the surface of the landfill planet, it seemed only logical William would be one of the last people to do s instructed. He himself had no sentiment or second thoughts as he jumped - he had been instructed to byy the second in commnd. Therefore, his logical mind worked out, there was little reason to think about anything other than altering the height at which his boosters were activated. Yet even this worked out to be of little importance, as the calculation proved that the height at which his own suit should have its boosters activated was so near to the one reccomended that the difference could have been disregarded entirely with no ill-effects. As his (clunky) landing ceased, a large rumbling sound filled the room, distorted slightly on the armour's sound projectors, which had admittedly seen better days. gargantuan door of some black, alien metal was lifted in front of them, realistic-looking light now flooding the landing area, to reveal the entrance to the LPAO's headquarters.
"Would all new recruits please follow the flashing beacon..." a woman's voice said on the intercom. It was, most likely, a pre-recorded message looped for the time being. Three more similar doors stood before the group of pilots, each labelled in various languages, and the message was clear: Each door led to a different section.
The door on the left was lbelled "Training Area," and a flashing beacon hovered before it, obviously marking the intended path. The centre door was marked "HQ," which seemed to be where everything behind the scenes went on. And on the left was "POW Camp." No explanation was needed.
"Now then, if you'll just step through the now-open training area door, your tests will commence." the already-familiar voice of Jonathan Hughes bellowed, attempting to keep order amongst the newbies.

Through the door was yet another vertical tunnel, though this one was somewhat shorter, and the walls were metal instead of tightly-packed debris. The actual room was little more than a large, steel rectangle, with approximately fifty hose-like cables hanging from the ceiling, just enough for the amount of pilots gathered there.
"Now," began Hughes, "Each cable looks like nothing specil. However, once grabbed, and once the active end has transformed into the shape of your mark, it becomes a brilliant battle simulator. Simply press that mark and your armour's together, and your mind will simulate a battle - and don't worry, we've had no serious injuries while using it, and all the computer can do is stimulate the process - we'd NEVER let it control you. Now, you WILL feel pain here, but you can't die. You'll lapse into unconsciousness for about second or two, but that's it. The environment and enemy may or may not be generated from memory, but rest assured, the skill of it will be regulated throughout the battle, and adjusted as your subconcious sees fit. Any questions? Well. if you do, too bad, we have no time to waste. Strap yourselves in, and don't take too long, these things eat up power like jelly-babies."
Amyst gathered and followed the throng of recruits into the Training Room, ignoring the sharp elbows that jabbed into her side or the feet that would stumble onto hers. All of the soldiers were herded into the room while a female voice on the intercom kindly instructed them on what to do. Amyst ignored it. None of this was new to her and she knew what to do...mostly. As they entered the new room, Amyst observed the metal walls that enclosed all around them. Long cords dangled from the ceiling of the room. Hughes began to talk again and this time she decided to listen for a change.

As he talked, Amyst was already grabbing for the nearest cord. Some pilots shot her questioning looks as Hughes was still saying the instructions. Amyst ignored all of them. As Hughes just ended his intructions, Amyst was already hooking herself up. Her body automatically tensed for the battle ahead, even if it was just a simple stimulation. It would be lucky that she couldn't die.

She was certain that she wouldn't anyways.