#battletech oc

[doolallymagpie]

setantii tertius was just like that one tumblr post that went “game of thrones but it’s realistic and these lords have maybe one horse and a band of thugs each”, but with battlemechs

well, until one “mad dog” cullen callahan came along with his weird prototype mad cat

no wonder everyone wanted to kick his ass or have him on their team

[is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not]

> message recording begins: "All right, so, uh, I'm here. ... Nah, that's not enough... (clears throat)

I'm Savannah "Fursona" Caruso, leader of the Fursona's Fusiliers mercenary unit. You may have heard of us, but if not, it's understandable; we haven't done all that much since Fortress Republic and The Wall went up. Fought in the Battle of Terra, I guess that's notable. But most of our success was prior to the Republic, the 4th Succession War, the Clan Invasion, the Jihad.

As far as size, the Fusiliers are roughly two RCTs in size - 72 Mechs, 72 Combat Vehicles, 12 AeroSpace Fighters, a battalion of PA(L) "unarmored" infantry, a battalion of Battle Armor infantry, and two platoons of Space Marines. Got ourselves two modified Colossus class DropShips, and our pride and joy, the Argo. Relic of the first Star League, civilian exploration vessel. She's got her very own Grav Deck, and is the only DropShip with the MCDS, Multiple Collar Docking System; lets us attach two other DropShips to the Argo, and daisy-chain 'em along through a jump.

I've been asked by... heh... Commanding General Hazen - seriously, Mysty, wow, talk about a promotion, huh?

Anyway, I've been asked by her to "make myself available for queries or interactions". We've gotten settled in here in the Islington system finally - heh, hard to find the Argo a big enough docking berth on the station...

In any case, you wanna ask me stuff or come talk to me, I'm free and clear. Just look for the busty muscle mommy wolf-chick in a silver one-piece heeled jumpsuit. I'm kinda hard to miss.

- Commander Savannah "Fursona" Caruso

[umbra-draws]

Gaming time uwu

[msn-04iinightingale]

Refusal

Kinship FOB Helios

"I'm just...concerned, sir." Colonel Bell said to her superior, Commander Owen McEvedy as the two walk down the hallway in the Kinship FOB medical wing.

"About what, Colonel?" He asks. He's in a good mood, all things considered. Not only has the Commanding General had delivered not only one of his people hge thought dead, but also, a great deal of good and...interesting news.

"...about Elenor, sir." she says, the taller raptor woman stopping infront of a closed door.

"Doc's say she'll recover fully. And Melissa mentioned that the SLDF has resources to help with the other scars." he says, stopping by her. "You worry too much." He says with a smile.

Bell blushes slightly.

"Eh, really should get a move on with that..." he thinks, remembering his conversation with Melissa earlier.

"Be that as it may, sir...I have concerns about what will occur should any of the clan based systems pick up on her...or indeed, any of our genetics." She look pointedly at Owen when she says this.

"Ah, that..." He says. She has a point. While Melissa at least...and others...are supportive, others might not be. Still, having a Commanding General in your corner counted for a great deal.

"...I don't know...maybe the word "Wolverine" won't be a dirty word someday."

Bell cocks her head slightly, confused. "Again, be that as it may...I am still concerned about what will happen if some of the more...zealous groups find out."

"I'll handle it, if it comes to that..." He says, reassuringly. "Besides, who's gonna know?"

"...I suppose you are correct, sir."

He smiles, and reaches out and pats her arm. "Like I said, you worry too much." he says, more softly. "Now come on, got some things I need to talk to you about."

The two begin to walk away.

@the-clawtake

[dstears]

Skittle encounters the perils of airbrushing when you're the same size as the mini.

A gift for Rainbowlicious

[tacticattails]

Still deciding if im done or if i wanna ink and/or color it. Honey also has a normal Mad Cat. I have an idea for that in universe.

[neonnoble]

"The name's Freak. Yes, really! Everyone knows my name at first sight!"

My brand new Battletech OC, Freak Tarr!

[c-billbaby]

A Mercenary's Guide to Courtship

Hello my fine friends, it's your fine and well traveled friend Gemma here with yet another bit of advice for the well heeled but tragically underloved mercenary, rogue, or other such rakish scoundrel what wants to have a girl or boy or whatever in every port just like your favorite lass; me.

First we shall start with general advice for the soldier of negotiable loyalty and then later we shall proceed to more area specific advice for snatchin up a warm body of your own, yeah?

First you must have a uniform, even if your unit does not. Buy one, smart and proper with jacket, tight pants, high boots and preferably a well embroidered unit insignia. Now don't wear it proper. Leave a button undone up top, perhaps a rakish tilt to your fine hat, or a bit of the unshaven jaw to advertise that you are both a person of discipline and means, but also more than a little bit of mischief and fun.

Second, you are always a pilot. It does not matter what you claim to pilot, but you must claim it. No dirt pounders or techs or navigators allowed in romance my dears, no sir. You are a MechWarrior, or a Battle Armor jockey, or an aerospace fighter pilot. Any old cove can pick up a gun and march in formation lads, but it takes a higher class of individual to wrestle down the screamin' power of a war machine; and so that is what you must be.

Finally you must always be deeply romantical pinin in your bunk fondly havin only the memory of your love to keep you warm on those long and lonely cold cold nights in space. Look far and distant like at nothin in particular and sigh all wistful, but meloncholy for surely you go to a tragic death and you pray only that the memory of a kind face and a warm embrace is what sends you off to meet your maker.

These here three rules are the best way to make sure your bed is full of fine company on shore leave and long garrison duties, rest assured, for they have never failed me.

For more specific questions please ask me personal and I shall surely respond with advice most surely guaranteed to leave you smilin.

[house-steiner-stays-winning]

Thinking about fucking around and starting my own periphery state.

If that low-consummate jackass Brewer can do it, I can do it with my eyes closed.

- Dieter Marten-Steiner

[theurbanmechcomesforthee]

in the mechbay straight fuckin it up. and by it... heheh. lets just say. some poor innocent highlander we stole during a debt collection mission gone wrong

[harwood-pmc-official]

"Robert?" Corax asked, poking his white-feathered head into their shared tent, at roughly 0600 Taurian Standard.

Robert is snoring, asleep on the bed where Corax had left him - awakened in the early morning by a Naval attache, come to give Corax the good news. Corax chuckled to himself.

An hour past his normal time? He's slipping.

"Rooooobert~, I have something to show you~~..." Corax whispered, melodious and sing-song into his lover's ear.

Robert jerked awake, grabbing at the bedside for a pistol that wasn't there, until reality asserted itself, and he groaned, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he flopped back onto the pillow.

"Birdie, if the enemy isn't actively overrunning our position, couldn't it have waited till 0500?"

@is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not

[wickedlittlecritta]

my personal headcanon is that the clans don’t have gender roles. the caste system just obliterates that. especially for the warriors

think about it: they’re all test tube grown. reproduction is completely decoupled from sex. there’s little indication that sexism really exists in their society, and why would it? might makes right and they’re all genetically engineered to be the perfect warriors. people are pissed when natasha kerensky becomes khan not because she's a woman (and she's not the first or last female khan), but because she was out fucking around with the dragoons for several decades. and then sex is canonically just a social bonding thing--fwb is the norm.

for me, this is prime ground for a society in which you ask the average member of the warrior caste what their sexual orientation and gender is and they just look at you blankly. no idea what the fuck you're talking about. they identify as a warrior. that's it

but also you cannot tell me that the science caste is not down to do any combination of transition surgery possible. you got dysphoria? we can fix it!! you want DD tits and a dick? done.

they must have insane neo pussy game is what i'm saying.

i think he/she pronouns hang on in like, a formal/poetic way (especially since they have that whole thing about linguistic preservation), but you cannot tell me that the people who invented the word "batchall" would not eventually start inventing neopronouns specifically to indicate what caste someone's in or something.

really, if you want the clans to be just so weird and super alien to everyone else, making them get real fucking weird with gender is a great way to do that imo

[is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not]

Colonel Inanna Allard-Liao sat on a seat in the "outdoor" portion of a restaurant aboard the Islington pleasure circus station, relaxing while reading over some reports. She seemed pensive, her furred foot tapping. She was out of uniform, wearing only a sheer white and gold dress that was in the neo-Centrellan style so in vogue with the Canopian nobility of late.

(Open RP if anyone wants to interact with Inanna)

[umbra-draws]

Pov: ur on a date with a mechwarrior UwU

[msn-04iinightingale]

/ADDENDUM TO REPORT [KINSHIP-4]

/EXTRACT FROM TRANSCRIPT OF COMMUNIQUE BETWEEN SLDF CIVILIAN LIAISON LIEUTENANT CARMEN AVELINE AND DOCTOR ELISE MORROW

/BEGIN TRANSCRIPT

Dr. Elise Morrow:  ..and just like I told the other four people before someone finally routed me to you, I have one of your pilots here, who someone needs to come pick up because like hell am I going through an active combat zone with a civilian ambulance with a patient onboard.

SLDF Liaison Lt. Carmen Aveline: And I understand that, miss-

Dr. EM: Doctor. It’s Doctor Morrow.

Lt. CA: …Doctor Morrow, but there is currently an active combat engagement going on and-

Dr. EM: Really, I hadn’t noticed what with the explosions and battlemechs and all. Look, just get someone down here to come pick her up and take her to a proper medical suite. The sooner the better.

Lt. CA: I…I’ll see what I can do m-...Doctor Morrow.

Dr. EM: Thank you.

/END TRANSCRIPT

/FORWARD TO SLDF COMMANDING GENERAL MELISSA HAZEN? [[Y]] [N]

@is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not

[neon-knights-mercenary-company]

In the isolated corner of the Mechlab, where Rowan de la Rosa was working on her cobbled together Marauder, it was fairly quiet. Even the loud whirring and buzzing of the fabricator was lessened.

So it was easy to hear the familiar clicking sound - of the specialty footwear of an SLDF prototype advanced cooling suit.

The chuckle, warm and happy, she hadn't heard in... Well, over a century for him. Less time for her.

Remus. Remus Kerensky.

"So," he says, raising his voice only a little to carry up to her, where she sat adjusting the Marauder's main gun. "You have had quite the experience, I heard, quiaff?"

Quiaff. That word, that Clanner word. He and the others of the Sixteen, they'd used it, well before the Clans came knocking. Hearing it from the invaders had been a shock. Much like seeing the enemy piloting echs much like those she'd fought alongside during the Restoration - those impossibly advanced machines they'd said, they lied, were Star League prototypes.

Rowan remembered the last time she'd heard it. Half dead on Satalice, what... 101 years ago now, but also just a few weeks ago.

He'd said "I will keep you safe, quiaff?" Hadn't he?

( @is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not )

“Remus?”

Rowan’s voice was barely a whisper, devoid of the fire and thunder she usually projected. To anyone else, it would have drowned in the wash of noise from the bustling ‘mech bay, but when Rowan glanced down, she caught the twitch of his ear.

“Remus, you old dog! Yeah- an Experience! Let me tell you, misjumping a century isn’t fun, I was mixing up my left and downs and greens all day after,” she said, trying to project some of that bluster that she typically wore like an old mask, but to her, it seemed to ring hollow. “Let me get down there so I can greet ya proper.”

Rowan stowed her tools and shimmied across the chassis, stepping gingerly over the cockpit to make her way to the gantry. Lowering the lift, she took a good look at Remus for the first time in far too long.

Striking red fur- still the same bloody shade as the day she met him- covered the man from head to paw. He stood, fuckoff tall in his SLDF cooling suit, seemly cool as a cucumber unless you knew the signs.

Like the fluffy, luxurious tail wagging a mile a minute behind him.

A grin crossed her face at that- genuine and bright, driving away some of the lingering doubt on her face. The lift hit the ground, and she stepped towards her old friend, opening her arms as for an embrace, before the doubt could take hold.

“God damn but it is good to see you again.”