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Topics - Janus Rogo

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Plot Zone / Proving Gus Wrong
« on: May 15, 2018, 11:38:20 AM »
And also a bitch.

So, I need a student or two for Shiver. It's set in some distant, tiny Atlas village, removed from most civilization. Investigative horror thread, mostly. Exposition for some stuff, too. Not likely to be much combat between Hunters, not likely to be much against Grimm. Probably. If you wanna join, make sure your first post has a solid list of gear and equipment the characters are carrying, if anything's noteworthy. Dust reserves, ammo supplies, stuff like that.

Everywhere Else / Shiver [Closed]
« on: May 10, 2018, 08:40:49 AM »

When -if- you need to, where do you go to ground?

Hiding is difficult, when you need to do it well. Any average joe can tuck themselves away in the woods, keep their head down, hope for the best. Maybe find a small village on the other side of Remnant, grow a beard, fuck some natives. Hell, they could even stay in the area they're supposed to be avoiding, hide in plain sight. There's a thousand ways to disappear, especially if you're just some face in the crowd.

But a Huntsman? Oh, that's an entirely different ballgame.

You see, it's easy to gloss over normal crimes. Even something as big as murder, if you're a normal person, can be escaped with enough distance. You don't have to worry too much about who's hunting you once you're off the radar. Either you'll survive, or a Huntsman will kick in your door, and there's little you can do at that point. But when a Huntsman is the criminal? Things escalate, rapidly. Responses that would be out of the question for a normal person become valid. Responses like Teams hunting you down, military forces, law enforcement cordons, mercenaries, all of that. A Huntsman stands out, whether they want to or not. They carry themselves differently. They fight differently. If they're smart, they'll keep their gear, so when a response does come, they'll be at least somewhat prepared. Somewhat is subjective, of course, depending on what's coming for you. If an Atlesian Warship bombards your hidey-hole, you're probably only going to be able to do so much.

Mobility is the trick, really. Staying in one place for too long will lead your foes to you, let them find you. If they find you, things get messy. You have to run, or fight. Or run and fight. If you keep from settling down long enough, even as a Huntsman, your pursuers will give up on finding you. You can eventually slow, you can eventually, maybe, even stop. Now, staying mobile can call attention to you, if you do it wrong. The stranger your locale to you, the stranger you seem to the locals. So there's really only one solid place to go to ground.


Janus Rogo was finally slowing down. In the year since he inadvertently helped in a White Fang plot in Vale, he'd been on the run. He had no real way of knowing who had recognized him that day, beyond the fact that he'd been chosen for a reason. A fall guy, if he'd been unlucky or unskilled enough. Who would question the Butcher of Tenang Bay being implicated in another Faunus massacre? Clever, really. Easy, too. And Janus, in all his decades of training, experience, intellect, had immediately taken the bait. Idiot.


He glanced around, making sure no one had heard him. Frigid plains, sparse fauna, and zero people, as far as the eye could see. Well, as far as most eyes could see. Janus could pick out a couple distant storms, little more than small flurries, white mountains, and straight ahead... A small village. No more than twenty buildings. Probably a dozen or so families in it. Old school prefabricated structures had been covered with homely coats of paint, windows were cut into them. Standard non-standard upgrades. Just little touches to make a bleak expanse seem a little more like a warm home. He pulled the coat around him tighter. The Tyrant, stretched into spear form, scraped the ground behind him. It sounded eager, almost. A grating, slow chuckle. Janus banished the thought and pulled the lance up, out of reach of the tundra beneath him. His boots crunched through permafrost, a steady path of prints trailed off behind him, connecting to yet another rinky-dink township. His pack was lighter than when he'd left. Rationed food was running low, ammo wasn't quite as plentiful. Most charged equipment was thoroughly drained. He wiped his face, feeling the days-old scruff on his face. Maybe a nice inn? Hot shower, a shave, quick night's rest? That's usually how things went these days.

His approach to this one was different. No one hailed him, no one tried to search him for weapons or goods, or anything. No one did anything. In fact, near as Janus could tell, no one was standing watch. The town couldn't be deserted, not with lights in the windows. Generators were still running. No signs of combat, either. Everything was intact. An evacuation would see power grids shut off, or a cordon placed if the Military had been involved. Raiders wouldn't have left anything nailed down and he could still see vehicles secured in a garage.

The Tyrant came out, snapping together as he transitioned it into it's rifle form. He slowly ran his hand down the length of the weapon, the sound tickled something in the back of his mind. A little voice saying Grimm. The mercenary grimaced as the thought fled his mind and he smacked the side of the rifle, clearing a chunk of frost from it. With the weapon high in the pocket of the shoulder, he made his approach, sweeping his gaze back and forth. No one- nothing outside. No people, no pets, no signs, just wind and cold. He shivered, then stepped off to what seemed a family domicile. A thermal lamp hung from the front of the structure, under it, a few plants spun in the outside air, not enough to eat off of, but enough to use in spices or decoration. Homely.

A quick look through the entry's portal didn't show any movement, nothing responded when he knocked on the door. Annoyed, he spun the rifle around and smashed the handle off, booting it down the street. He shouldered the rest of the way through the door with ease. Metal snapped and twisted as he walked in. The heat was still on. No signs of struggle and as he took in the family room, he noticed an old shotgun laying on the mantle, unused. He frowned and continued through the house. A dining area, a bedroom, a closet, another bedroom, a- oooh. Janus stopped. He stood at the entrance to the bathroom. Toilet paper, hot water, fluffy towels! Forgetting himself, Janus leaned his rifle inside the shower, shed the armor and clothing, and ran the water onto full heat.

It was glorious.

WiP Characters / Redmond "Rusty" Cipher
« on: February 13, 2018, 11:04:20 AM »
I'm sick and tired of losing progress on my posts so this is going in here


Name: Redmond Daynim Cipher, or "Rusty"

Age: 17

Species and Gender: Human Male

Symbol:  (Longhorn)

Occupation: Student, Heir-apparent of Cipher Industries

Appearance: Rusty is a big, fun looking boy. He's a bit on the heavy side, stopping just shy of being truly fat. That's not to say he's lazy, or slovenly, quite the contrary, in fact. He's just... very well fed. He's nattily clean, usually well dressed and well groomed, with a fresh shave, daily, and a fresh haircut, weekly. The young man likes to wear heavy rancher boots that are popular among the working class in Atlas, though they're usually a bit fancier. Aside from that, expect him to be in finely crafted clothing that would be at home in most formal functions. During combat, he wears heavy armor emblazoned with the logos from his family's business and several of its associates.

History: Redmond Cipher was born in a private hospital, welcomed into the world by an occupied, if distant family. They were, at the time, running an up-and-coming arms manufacturing Corporation.

Personality: Good ol' Southern boy. Not very book smart. Good with hands. Hard worker. Mildly racist. "Don't trust them Faunus."

Aura and Semblance: Portal Glyphs.

Combat Behavior:  Heavy weapons fire. Saturation of large areas, suppression of human/Faunus.


Name: Rattler

Primary Form: Chaingun/Flamethrower

Secondary Form: Sample Text

Tertiary Form: Sample Text

Dust Functions: None. Incorporates Fire Dust in Flamer tanks, crystallized Gravity Dust rings for round acceleration, Crystal Lightning Dust for power.

History: "Inherited" prototype weapon tricked out for his use. Large amount of small rounds accelerated to higher velocities, increasing damage to more inline with larger rounds. Flamethrower intensely hot, excellent at discouraging close range engagement. Expenses are smaller than expected, due to utilization of smaller rounds, and are largely covered by family fortune.

Plot Zone / Non-Canon Star Wars Thread
« on: January 08, 2017, 10:18:42 PM »
So, for anyone that's been in the IRC channel for more than ten minutes, you've probably caught on that I'm a big Star Wars fan. Now, I know on the old board there was another Star Wars thread, one that spiraled out of control, apparently, with Sith and Droids and Smugglers and anachronisms and confusion and whatnot.

Well, I'm gonna give it another shot, just with a bit more structure. I will be making a NEW Star Wars thread. There's some catches here. I like killing characters being a big one. This is a Star Wars thread. In the spirit of the movies and books, I don't expect everyone to make it through this. Everyone's going to make three separate New Republic characters, at minimum, 5 at maximum. Now I know this is a lot of characters for one thread, but I don't expect you to go through the whole creation process as we do on the board. You're welcome to use versions of those characters, if you choose, but with all characters I need the Name, Race, Age, Planet of Origin, and a couple sentences of their history. There'll be a few examples at the bottom here. NO FORCE SENSITIVE CHARACTERS.

Now, when you post, I might message you shortly afterwards saying that your character is dead, in some way, shape, or form. An X-Wing pilot could get shot down by a TIE Interceptor, or a Pathfinder could get enough shrapnel to put him down, or the like. After my message, you get to go back, and edit the circumstances of the characters death, whether they just burn out immediately, like Red Ten, or if they have a couple seconds to scream and fight before expiring. At that point, you're more than welcome to assume the role of the next character in your list, having them drop out of hyperspace as reinforcements, or switching to another squad as support, or something along those lines. I would like a total of six people for this. Some slots are already taken, so post in here and I'll let you know, or keep you in mind as backup if this shit doesn't go completely off the rails. There's going to be a space element, followed by a ground element. One full fighter wing supported by two CR-90 Corvettes. Ranks drawn from the X-Wing Alliance structure for Fighter Pilots, keep it simple for the groundside guys. I'll fill in roles as needed. If you want to make a character, just for shits and giggles, go ahead.

1: Seig
2: Aegis
3: Xarias Fury

Plot details follow from here. If you've got any other questions, message me, or hit me up on the IRC channel.



In the four years since the death of Emperor Palpatine, Darth Vader, and many of the Empires best and brightest at Endor, the Galaxy has begun changing. Almost immediately afterwards, the Rebel Alliance began pushing the Empire back. Battles continued to rage as Admirals and Moffs tried desperately to grab for power, splintering the Empire into dozens of Warlord led factions. New Republic Military assets have found themselves spread thin during this period of chaos. One particular instance has seen a small section of the First Fleet deployed for an assault on an Imperial Research facility. Discovered while combing records on Coruscant, very little is known about the Facility, Codenamed: Serafall.

Dramatis Personae

Ruby Squadron (12 X-Wings)
Ruby Leader-
Ruby 2-
Ruby 3-
Ruby 4-
Ruby 5-
Ruby 6- Flight Officer Kora Windcloud, Human Female, Hapes (R5-S3 "Bucky")
Ruby 7-
Ruby 8-
Ruby 9- Lieutenant Pieter Tono, Human Male, Taanab (R2-K4)
Ruby 10-
Ruby 11-
Ruby 12-

Guardian Squadron (12 Y-Wings)
Guardian Leader-
Guardian 02-
Guardian 03-
Guardian 04-
Guardian 05- Lieutenant Holm Larkin, Human Male, Commenor (R5-A39P "Scrapper")
Guardian 06- Sergeant Kipling Star, Human Male, Coruscant
Guardian 07-
Guardian 08-
Guardian 09-
Guardian 10- Flight Officer Dim Sola, Duros Male, Duros (R2-A6 "Traveler")
Guardian 11-
Guardian 12-

Icon Squadron (4 X-Wing, 2 B-Wing, 4 A-Wing, 2 U-Wing)
Icon Leader-
Icon 2- Flight Officer Dien Sulla, Twi'lek Female, Ryloth (X-Wing)
Icon 3-
Icon 4-
Icon 5-
Icon 6-
Icon 7-
Icon 8-
Icon 9-
Icon 10-
Icon 11-
Icon 12-

New Republic Intelligence
Colonel Hargrim Tolstec, Female Chagrian, Champala

New Republic Army
Lieutenant Ferrin Torr, Besalisk Male, Ojom
Lieutenant Trip Sammet, Karkarodon Male, Karkaris

New Republic Navy
Captain (Skytoucher)-
Captain (Freedom Ring)-

Colonel Hargrim Tolstec
Female Chagrian from Champala
Intelligence Operative responsible for the discovery of the Intel about Serafall Station. Long serving member of the Alliance sees this as an opportunity to have a role in crafting the NRI.

Lieutenant Ferrin Torr
Male Besalisk from Ojom
Republic Trooper now, Alliance Trooper before, Mercenary before that. Loud, gregarious, prone to bad jokes. Well respected shock trooper with hefty experience in boarding actions.

Lieutenant Holm Larkin
Male Human from Commenor
Previously a Sector News Agency camera newscaster, one too many of his stories had an "anti-Imperial" slant. COMPNOR was concerned enough to send a few agents his way. He was intercepted and picked up by the Alliance shortly before the Battle of Hoth. Still carries a camera around, documenting the lives of the men and women he serves with.

AMA Section / Janus AMA Thread
« on: October 26, 2016, 04:26:19 PM »
Direct questions towards myself or my character here. I don't play many characters and I don't post much. Despite this I'm somehow one of the Worldbuild moderators. I'm a Marine Vet with specific knowledge on Helicopter Maintenance and Aviation Squadrons. I know guns better than most of the gross civilians here. I've got a fair bit of knowledge regarding crew served and vehicle mounted weaponry as well. I tend to help out in Military and Technology sections of WBs.

My character is a disgraced Atlesian Specialist turned high-end mercenary.

Hit me up if you need a hand with weapons or whatnot, I'll see where I can help you. Word of warning: I'm not as temperamental as Vox. but I can get heated real quick.

Approved Characters / Rogo, Janus
« on: October 07, 2016, 05:47:07 PM »

Name: Janus Rogo; "The Butcher of Tenang Bay", "The Jet Knight"

Age: 36

Species and Gender: Human Male

Spoiler: ShowHide

Occupation: Freelancer, Criminal

Janus has a head of usually short, unruly black hair, something he's able to tame when he puts the effort forth. His eyes are a vibrant blue shade, almost to the point where they seem backlit. He finds time here and there to shower and clean himself up, at which point he's a fairly attractive middle aged man, who has managed to maintain a high level of fitness over the years. His height is slightly above average, measuring in at 73 inches on a good day. He's well built, though not overly thick, he's certainly not lean enough to be considered wiry or anything like that, weighing in at about 185lbs. His body is crossed and pocked with a fair number of scars, as well as a fair number of tattoos hiding under them. Old, military style markings, paying honor to old comrades, old missions, and things far darker.

He usually carries himself like a much older, worn down man. He seems to slouch, naturally, eyes warily scanning his surroundings. The more observant people that interact with him will notice that there's still a bit of a warrior inside his mind. There's a tendency to locate the nearest exits, the points of cover, or to attempt to pick out weapons. The tendency for his stare to wander over people, sizing them up, or evaluating them, has a tendency to aggravate people.

A lot of his attire is old, dull hand-me-downs and thrift shop purchases. His "off duty" fashion sense is slightly above average, just conservative by virtue of a fairy low income. He keeps some old tactical gear in decent condition, but rarely, if ever, has cause to pull them out. His tactical gear is an old set of military grade plate. It's very effective for his style of combat, with a fair amount of protection on the leading edges, but little around the joints in order to maintain mobility. It's armor designed for maximum aggression. Keep pushing, keep surviving.


Once upon a time, two soldiers, one of Atlas, the other of Vacuo, fell in love. It wasn't complex or surprising, really, given the bonds that could easily form when fighting a common foe. Their shared enemy was the Faunus, back during the Civil War. He, Cyrus, was simply a soldier of Atlas. Nothing more, nothing less. She, Cheri, however, was a Huntress. Graduated from Shade some ten years prior to the outbreak of the conflict. They came together, he was far less powerful, but warm and caring. She was hard and aggressive, but passionate and driven. The war ended, as it did, and they stayed together. He supported her as they traveled for her profession. He supported her as she carried their child. He supported her as they finally settled down in his homeland and started their family.

Once upon a time, a child was born to two warriors. They raised him to be a man of duty and valor, seeing to it he was well educated and well trained from a young age. He took to their lessons well, always seeking to push himself, or failing that, to be pushed by them. The boy was obedient, patient, and loved his parents. Sure, he wasn't raised around many other kids and they didn't really account for him developing socially, but they made him strong! He could defend himself if something happened! If he got lost in the woods, he knew how to find his way home, how to find shelter, how to survive! He was great! He was grand! He'd be a Hunter, like his mother and a soldier like his dad! He'd be the best ever!

Once upon a time, there was a young, up-and-coming student in Atlas. A warrior, savage and keen, always pushing himself forward, always rising to new heights. His semblance was fitting. He started using it simply to throw others around. With the years of schooling, he was shown new ways to use it. Shown how to channel his Aura in more focused, more precise ways than his parents ever taught him. He learned to soar above the land, crashing down as a meteor among the Grimm. The missions he went on are still spoken of, if only because of how distinct the thunderclap of his fall was at the time.

Once upon a time, there was a fresh-faced Huntsman. His reputation preceded him, as did his ego. He was barely a man and had already partaken in his share of Grimm cleansing. There was another path ahead of him. One that he'd sworn to take years ago. The path of the Soldier. There, in the army of Atlas, he could fight even more foes! He could fight in glorious WAR as his parents had! They'd surely send him to fight Grimm as well! And so they did. The Huntsman grew mightier, as he tested and pushed himself against any evil infestation he was pointed at. He handled Grimm, Pirates, and Faunus dissidents for years.

Once upon a time, a soldier received a mission. He'd received many before and paid this one no special mind. Interdiction of arms smugglers. Faunus leanings, most likely. Intel wasn't as concrete as it should be, yet the mission was given the go ahead. The soldier followed his orders without complaint or question. He was merely a weapon for their use, after all. He engaged three cargo ships at dawn, two of the three gave resistance. Faunus and human sympathizers. Some fifteen fighters against a single, highly trained Huntsman. It wasn't much of a fight. They were dispatched with brutal violence. He saw them as little better than the Grimm, through the lens of his own hubris. He saw them as nothing and he rent them asunder, as though they were nothing. The waves consumed their remains as the killer set about his work.

Once upon a time, a foolish young man made a mistake. He had no excuse. He has none today. He used his weapons to crack the hulls of all three ships. He left them splintered, burning, and going down in the middle of the ocean. No one could get their hands on the weapon stores if they sat at the bottom of the ocean, after all. It was, at the time, a reasonable, if a tad excessive for his given mission. Nothing too far out of the ordinary, aside from the dozens of corpses inside the ships.

Once upon a time, an idiot killed a bunch of innocent people. He sank two ships carrying weapons. He sank a third ship carrying refugees. Faunus that sought safer horizons. People who wanted to settle down and end their encounters with war. Innocent men and women that wanted merely to start a happy life for their families. Intel hadn't caught that. Just a shipment of illegal goods, along unofficial, unregulated channels, by a group notorious for their predilection towards putting destructive gear in the hands of violent, brutal folk. There really wasn't much of a way for their killer to know they'd existed, aside from the few survivors, clinging to the too few lifeboats, picked up days later. Survivors with a story of a point of focused savagery. A madman. A butcher.

There is a broken man out there. A murderer. A victim. An innocent man, guilty of the deaths of 206 innocent men, women, and children. He's haunted by old ghosts and demons, rising up from the depths. They come when he sleeps, sometimes. They come while he wakes, other times. The shell keeps his head down, for the most part. Avoids the public eye, in order to keep anyone from trying to take revenge on him, or whatnot. Legally, he's not really responsible for the tragedy. Morally, however, it eats away at him. Throws him off balance. Makes him see shadows where there are none. He's at a crossroads in his life now. One path goes towards madness, despair, and destruction. Another path the one he has chosen, leads towards recovery. Towards mending a world that was darkened by his actions. Sure, he might not ever be able to truly make up for it. But he can try and make the world at least a little better. The man is no hero. He's not a shimmering vanguard. He's not a knight, clad in pristine, glittering mail. He accepts what he is. Who he is. He could drag anyone down with him. He seeks only to push forward and upward, pulling along anyone else he can.

There is an old fool out there. Blinded by wrath, he allowed himself to be led astray. He finds himself sinking deeper and deeper into a pit of his own making. Where he goes, death follows, haunting him. An ever present spectre, looming over him, coming forth in nightmares, not usually waking. Dreams of dark seas and glistening shores and screams and teeth. He wanders alone, staying true to the one thing he knows: violence. He hones his craft, practicing, training, fighting, and hunting. He evolves, in more obvious ways than some. His weaponry is modified, stripped down, better for keeping things at a distance. His hands are violent enough without the gauntlets, so a spear will serve just fine. The Tyrant didn't seem to mind. All things lead to the shape of the point. Nothing has ever lived that will not die.

History Summary: ShowHide
So, to sum it up, Janus Rogo is presently a mercenary. He grew up in Atlas, went to school there, and naturally wound up working very closely with their military. He spent numerous years running any jobs they had, his skill level saw him get some more and more important/dangerous assignments. He did Grimm eliminations, escort missions, or elimination missions. Up until a few years ago, he was something of an Atlesian war hero. A highly talented, brutally effective specialist. Some shoddy intelwork on a mission to intercept White Fang members once they'd converted to more violence led to unfortunate events. He cracked the keels of three cargo ships just outside of a port in Mistral. One ship did have White Fang members, weaponry, and equipment on it. The other two were well stuffed with innocent refugees. All of the refugees died, as well as most of the crew. Enough survivors were able to report what had happened, while later investigation would also corroborate their reports, once the bodies were fished out. He was vilified, legal action was sought against him, but since he'd been functioning in his capacity as an Atlesian military member, he was tried in their courts. He was found Not Guilty, on account of a mix of corruption, proof of poor intel, and at least some desire not to punish a good, if unlucky huntsman. Few commanders would've taken him afterwards, regardless. Too much negative stigma. Too unlucky. Janus was content to leave, however. The whole situation put a bad taste in his mouth. The people tried to blame him, the military he'd served tried to sweep him under the carpet. He decided to try and ply his trade in the private sector, which is where we first found him. He was tricked into instigating a terrorist plot in Vale, blowing up an Apartment building, and escaping the area with only minimal pursuit.

Sometimes good natured, quick witted, with a penchant for dry to dark humor. Janus is usually a pleasant enough man to be around, on most days. He generally acts with good intentions, hoping to brighten peoples lives, cheer them up, or give them needed direction. While he does tend to speak his mind, he's not overly pushy, with a firm belief in allowing others to make their own decisions or choices for their own reasons.

Janus is extremely inquisitive, as a fairly odd turn from his earlier years. He has a powerful thirst for knowledge and experience. His willingness to try new things, to talk with people, to see how their stories play out, all this enables him to gain a deeper understanding of the world of Remnant and the people within it. He's not as well versed in general knowledge as he'd like to be. He's sharp and quick to pick up, but he spent enough time lying low and avoiding people that he's not up to speed enough on current goings on.

Given his history, he's a bit of a sucker for sad stories. He's absolutely a warrior at heart, too. A bit too righteous now, maybe, but time will tell on that one. He'll leap to the defense of those incapable of defending themselves. He'll aggressively pursue those he feels are acting with ill will towards the innocent. This mindset has often put him behind Faunus, aside from his earlier experiences with them. He tends to be a bit more edgy around them. He's less prone to engaging them with violence, as well.

Grimm, to him, are a scourge. They should be zealously hunted and wiped out. Their young are simply early tumors, needing to be excised as much as their adult variants.

Aura and Semblance:

Aura: Carnelian

Janus' semblance gives him the ability to generate a thrust envelope from any point on his body. By virtue of simplicity, most of the time he uses joints and the ends of his hands and feet for focal points. He's capable, with focus, of maintaining a high enough thrust-to-weight ratio for ten minutes of flight at speeds upwards of 250mph, while armored, and under 180mph while unarmored. Unfortunately, for him, combat tends to require a different mindset. If he begins taking fire mid-flight, he's capable of controlling a descent and not slamming into the ground at terminal velocities.

On the ground, he uses his semblance in bursts in order to accelerate his attacks and himself. His enhanced strikes will eventually wear him out. He can use his ability to fire off high pressure blasts from his hands and feet with ease, blending it into combat. He can do omnidirectional bursts, though they'll burn him out pretty quickly. Bunny hops and evasion are his other big use. His semblance is highly useful for scattering foes or putting distance between himself and lightweight enemies. Constant use of the thrust semblance will pull most of his aura in short order. He can hold burst for that long, but tends to be fairly useless afterwards.

Combat Behavior:
In combat, Janus is an aggressive, evasive, hard hitting attacker. He blends his semblance extremely well with his fighting styles. He excels in midrange combat, where his rifle allows him to engage multiple light-medium threats with ease. His launcher is dangerously effective, with a propensity for overpenetrating light-medium targets, damaging whatever lays beyond. His threat evaluation is stellar, enabling him to re-prioritize, shift targets, and reengage with an almost supernatural speed. Close up threats are disrupted by blows from the rifle, his feet, or pushed back by his semblance until he can either relocate or switch weapon modes.

While unarmed, or when using the spear, he favors upper body strikes, occasionally switching over to kicks to disrupt opponents. Long, sweeping attacks from the spear hit with impressive speed and force. His maneuverability in the air has transferred over well. He's a solid ground-fighter for his age and size, but is exceedingly good at striking. He's able to rapidly switch between methods of combat, rolling from striking, to shooting, to relocating with dizzying speed.

Most of his weaknesses have been smoothed out by decades of experience, but he still has limitations. Most of them are standard limitations of his weaponry. Sufficiently sloped, dense, or thick armor will deflect the larger 20mm rounds, or cause them to detonate prematurely. Large enough groups can overwhelm him. Loss of mobility is likely the biggest threat to him. Take away his ability to reposition and he will be worn down.


The Tyrant
Primary Form:
The Tyrant is primarily a battle rifle, chambering a cartridge analogous to the .338 cartridge from detachable box magazines. The rounds themselves are hardened, built for fighting Grimm, and highly effective on people. They're slightly beefier than most assault rifle rounds, packing a heavier punch. The rifle mounts a 4x/12x scope, though that can easily be removed, allowing the user to revert back to simple iron sights. The standard models of this rifle are highly modular, though, this particular model has been customized to suit Janus' needs.

Attached to the Tyrant is an underslung heavy launcher. It's built to fire 20mmx102mm rounds, built for use from vehicle mounted autocannons or tripod mounted sniper rifles, only Huntsmen are able to manage this round, and most not very well. It's fed from a small, three round swing out cylinder, enabling for quick reloads of varying ammunition. He tends to use standard API rounds, though he'll switch out to special Dust filled variants in a pinch.

A hardened spike is recessed in the stock of the rifle, manipulating a small switch next to it will extend it, allowing for surprisingly powerful buttstrokes. A bayonet telescopes from in between the rifle and it's underslung counterpart. These two weapons allow for some effect in close combat.

Secondary Form:
A recent, heavy modification has seen the Tyrant lose its former gauntlet mode. The rifle now splits along a lateral seam, locking at the rear, forming a short, heavy spear. It's light enough in Janus' hands to keep pace with any lighter version. Further, it retains the firearm functions, with the 20mm rounds firing opposite to the .338 analogue. The recoil from those rounds is sufficient to aid in the penetration of heavily armored foes.

Dust Functions:
Standard effects on the 20mm rounds. Ice freezes, fire burns, etc.

Janus has been using this specific weapon for over 20 years. It's a highly effective variant of an old, modular Atlesian
infantrymans rifle. His adjustments to it have made it impressively durable, though it does need the occasional cleaning and maintenance day.

Introductions, birthdays, and departures. / Hey folks.
« on: October 03, 2016, 08:22:34 PM »
I do yet live. College, the VA, and a 10-month old have been taking a toll on me. Now that I'm getting my GI Bill, Disability checks, and regular paychecks, I should have a new laptop soon and be on a bit more. Pretty sure any definite plans I make for my character will get jostled once S4 premieres, but hit me up with PMs if you want to work some shit out with me.

For those that don't remember be, I'm Janus. Marine vet, college student, dad. I'm a bit of a badass. Or a fat nerd. Whatever.

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