EliseValkyria
Competitive Professional In Being Ignored
- Joined
- Nov 20, 2020
- Messages
- 293
- Points
- 103
Hello everyone. I’m sure most of you don’t remember me or don’t know me, since it’s been a long time since I last wrote on the forums—but that doesn’t matter. Here I am once again, this time bringing some new advice.
This time, the topic is how to write interesting mecha battles.
Mechas, giant robots, tanks—all of them can really fall into the same category. These are a few tips that I think you can implement to make them much more interesting, as well as more believable, and to give a sense of realism even if it’s still fantasy.
The first point I want to talk about is the mecha itself—its construction. This might not seem very important when all you want to do is show battles, but I believe it’s important to start with functionality if you want to give it a bit more depth and interest.
Let’s start from the beginning. Try to think of the mecha—the robot—as a tool.
It was originally created for a purpose, an objective. Nobody just says, “I’m going to waste energy and resources creating something as difficult as a robot several meters tall just because I had free time.” Maybe in your story your character really wanted to build a giant robot, or maybe they found one lying around in some ruins, but even then, the mecha needs to have an origin. What inspired the character to create a robot? What purpose did the abandoned robot in the distant mountains have?
From the very start, you should think that every mecha or piece of equipment you include must have a purpose and a reason. It came from somewhere and undoubtedly consumed resources to be built. Think about a military robot: its objective may be combat—that’s obvious from the name—but even within that simple category there can be many roles. A mecha specialized in close combat will surely be different from one designed for long-range combat, demolitions, or even troop transport. If an army plans to spend resources on building something that requires so much commitment and expense, they will want it to be as efficient as possible and to have a clearly planned role or purpose before committing to building it in the first place.
Another thing I’d like to add is that you should remember that no machine is infallible forever. It always costs something to keep a machine at peak efficiency. Logistics and resources are the true lifeblood of machines. If something as large as an 8-meter-tall robot is walking around, there must at least be compatible equipment to support it logistically. Somehow it has to refuel or recharge its energy; somehow it will need repairs; somehow its weapons will need to be resupplied.
There’s something very curious in the real world: an aircraft carrier’s main objective is to deploy aircraft close to combat. A carrier like the USS Gerald R. Ford needs an estimated crew of 2,600 people, yet it only carries about 75 aircraft. Probably only around 100 people are pilots. So what are all those people doing on the ship? Is what is called logistics, and that is the thing that wins wars They’re the ones who support those 100 so they’re ready to fight—commanders and officers organizing plans, mechanics repairing equipment, engineers making sure everything is running properly, security personnel, emergency crews. There’s even a force of around 300 people whose sole job is to make sure the planes can take off.
The second point I want to touch on is equipment and character.
Alright, let’s say we already have our protagonist. He’s a pilot and he has his mecha that…
Wait a moment—stop and think about it a bit more. This is a perfect moment to write more about the protagonist without having to say absolutely anything!
Do you think I’m exaggerating?
I just want to show you the image of my mecha.
I want you to look at it and think for a moment as if you can truly see it. Can you see how the robot is red? A flashy color on a battlefield is extremely eye-catching—almost a death sentence, as if it were shouting, “Look at me!” Either the pilot is insane, or they trust their own skill far too much to use something like that.
Also, did you notice how, despite being a robot, it looks quite… skeletal? Clearly, just by looking at it, it doesn’t seem particularly durable. But that likely makes it light, which means it’s probably fast as well. Those legs are especially striking too—surely they’re special or do something different from normal humanoid legs. Here’s a hint: they’re meant for jumping higher.
The weapons, although strange, are at least clearly different from each other. We don’t know exactly what they do, but they surely serve different purposes. Perhaps if one fails for some reason, the other can do something the first one can’t. On its shoulders, it also seems to have something that isn’t strictly part of the robot’s core design. They could be thrusters; they could be additional weapons. They don’t look like missile launchers, so it must be something else. In any case, it would be best to expect something unusual to happen if we ever had to fight against it.
So, if we put everything together and think about it for a moment, we can imagine a pilot who seems confident in their ability, using a small, light, fast robot with weapons suited for different situations—and probably an ace up their sleeve. All of this suggests that whoever pilots this machine has confidence born from experience fighting other robots. They’ve faced battles and survived enough to develop their own preferences in combat, prioritizing mobility as a decisive factor for survival.
The variety of weapons indicates that this is probably not someone who relies on a single technique, but rather someone flexible—someone who won’t hesitate to change strategies if things stop going in their favor. Perhaps that’s why they decided to keep a surprise weapon for the end, or at least something to ensure their own survival and escape.
Your readers might not be able to think through such a situation in this way, but perhaps your protagonist can during their inner monologue in the middle of the battle. Or even if not consciously—even if someone knows nothing about mechas—there are certain things that can still be inferred, even on a subconscious level.
What I mean is that you can use a mecha’s loadout as an extension of your characters. It’s a way to show their preferences or beliefs, the choices that will either lead them to victory or carry them to the grave. A way to tell a battle’s story even before the characters have met on the battlefield—maybe one of them has already lost by bringing the “perfect” combination that simply doesn’t work in this specific situation, or maybe it’s a way to show a pilot’s skill by revealing what they’re capable of doing with very little, or with the wrong equipment.
Lastly, I want to talk about another aspect that many people tend to omit in their work: the main resource—energy.
We’re talking about giant robots several meters tall. Of course, they need something special to move: magic, electricity, gasoline, birthday wishes. They could not need it, but personally I recommend including something that can be spent, something that can run out, be exhausted. A way to count from one hundred to zero.
Why? you might ask. That just makes things more complicated.
And that is precisely the answer: it does complicate them.
Pilots won’t only have to fight each other with their skills; they will also have to fight their own machines, their own strategies.
Let’s say everything runs on an electric battery, from one hundred to zero charge. One hundred is peak performance; zero means the robot shuts down. How a pilot manages this resource also reflects who they are as a person. Someone might prefer fast, explosive fights, and will most likely have powerful weapons that drain the battery quickly. That pilot must know that if they fail to win in the opening blows, their window for victory may already be gone. Your protagonist should also show how they manage this resource to their advantage—or struggle against it.
Now imagine an average pilot with average consumption, everything balanced and fine, until one day they face an opponent whose mecha specifically drains and steals energy from their battery remotely. Now we have a countdown. The pilot who used to be average is forced to become fierce and aggressive, desperate to win before the battery hits zero and they lose immediately.
In this way, we have more tools to present problems, to show opportunities, to introduce more conflict, to convey courage, to show character, and to tell more of the story behind a situation.
If you liked these little tips and want to see ideas or how it went for me, you can check out my novel linked in the signature below.
This time, the topic is how to write interesting mecha battles.
Mechas, giant robots, tanks—all of them can really fall into the same category. These are a few tips that I think you can implement to make them much more interesting, as well as more believable, and to give a sense of realism even if it’s still fantasy.
The first point I want to talk about is the mecha itself—its construction. This might not seem very important when all you want to do is show battles, but I believe it’s important to start with functionality if you want to give it a bit more depth and interest.
Let’s start from the beginning. Try to think of the mecha—the robot—as a tool.
It was originally created for a purpose, an objective. Nobody just says, “I’m going to waste energy and resources creating something as difficult as a robot several meters tall just because I had free time.” Maybe in your story your character really wanted to build a giant robot, or maybe they found one lying around in some ruins, but even then, the mecha needs to have an origin. What inspired the character to create a robot? What purpose did the abandoned robot in the distant mountains have?
From the very start, you should think that every mecha or piece of equipment you include must have a purpose and a reason. It came from somewhere and undoubtedly consumed resources to be built. Think about a military robot: its objective may be combat—that’s obvious from the name—but even within that simple category there can be many roles. A mecha specialized in close combat will surely be different from one designed for long-range combat, demolitions, or even troop transport. If an army plans to spend resources on building something that requires so much commitment and expense, they will want it to be as efficient as possible and to have a clearly planned role or purpose before committing to building it in the first place.
Another thing I’d like to add is that you should remember that no machine is infallible forever. It always costs something to keep a machine at peak efficiency. Logistics and resources are the true lifeblood of machines. If something as large as an 8-meter-tall robot is walking around, there must at least be compatible equipment to support it logistically. Somehow it has to refuel or recharge its energy; somehow it will need repairs; somehow its weapons will need to be resupplied.
There’s something very curious in the real world: an aircraft carrier’s main objective is to deploy aircraft close to combat. A carrier like the USS Gerald R. Ford needs an estimated crew of 2,600 people, yet it only carries about 75 aircraft. Probably only around 100 people are pilots. So what are all those people doing on the ship? Is what is called logistics, and that is the thing that wins wars They’re the ones who support those 100 so they’re ready to fight—commanders and officers organizing plans, mechanics repairing equipment, engineers making sure everything is running properly, security personnel, emergency crews. There’s even a force of around 300 people whose sole job is to make sure the planes can take off.
The second point I want to touch on is equipment and character.
Alright, let’s say we already have our protagonist. He’s a pilot and he has his mecha that…
Wait a moment—stop and think about it a bit more. This is a perfect moment to write more about the protagonist without having to say absolutely anything!
Do you think I’m exaggerating?
I just want to show you the image of my mecha.
I want you to look at it and think for a moment as if you can truly see it. Can you see how the robot is red? A flashy color on a battlefield is extremely eye-catching—almost a death sentence, as if it were shouting, “Look at me!” Either the pilot is insane, or they trust their own skill far too much to use something like that.
Also, did you notice how, despite being a robot, it looks quite… skeletal? Clearly, just by looking at it, it doesn’t seem particularly durable. But that likely makes it light, which means it’s probably fast as well. Those legs are especially striking too—surely they’re special or do something different from normal humanoid legs. Here’s a hint: they’re meant for jumping higher.
The weapons, although strange, are at least clearly different from each other. We don’t know exactly what they do, but they surely serve different purposes. Perhaps if one fails for some reason, the other can do something the first one can’t. On its shoulders, it also seems to have something that isn’t strictly part of the robot’s core design. They could be thrusters; they could be additional weapons. They don’t look like missile launchers, so it must be something else. In any case, it would be best to expect something unusual to happen if we ever had to fight against it.
So, if we put everything together and think about it for a moment, we can imagine a pilot who seems confident in their ability, using a small, light, fast robot with weapons suited for different situations—and probably an ace up their sleeve. All of this suggests that whoever pilots this machine has confidence born from experience fighting other robots. They’ve faced battles and survived enough to develop their own preferences in combat, prioritizing mobility as a decisive factor for survival.
The variety of weapons indicates that this is probably not someone who relies on a single technique, but rather someone flexible—someone who won’t hesitate to change strategies if things stop going in their favor. Perhaps that’s why they decided to keep a surprise weapon for the end, or at least something to ensure their own survival and escape.
Your readers might not be able to think through such a situation in this way, but perhaps your protagonist can during their inner monologue in the middle of the battle. Or even if not consciously—even if someone knows nothing about mechas—there are certain things that can still be inferred, even on a subconscious level.
What I mean is that you can use a mecha’s loadout as an extension of your characters. It’s a way to show their preferences or beliefs, the choices that will either lead them to victory or carry them to the grave. A way to tell a battle’s story even before the characters have met on the battlefield—maybe one of them has already lost by bringing the “perfect” combination that simply doesn’t work in this specific situation, or maybe it’s a way to show a pilot’s skill by revealing what they’re capable of doing with very little, or with the wrong equipment.
Lastly, I want to talk about another aspect that many people tend to omit in their work: the main resource—energy.
We’re talking about giant robots several meters tall. Of course, they need something special to move: magic, electricity, gasoline, birthday wishes. They could not need it, but personally I recommend including something that can be spent, something that can run out, be exhausted. A way to count from one hundred to zero.
Why? you might ask. That just makes things more complicated.
And that is precisely the answer: it does complicate them.
Pilots won’t only have to fight each other with their skills; they will also have to fight their own machines, their own strategies.
Let’s say everything runs on an electric battery, from one hundred to zero charge. One hundred is peak performance; zero means the robot shuts down. How a pilot manages this resource also reflects who they are as a person. Someone might prefer fast, explosive fights, and will most likely have powerful weapons that drain the battery quickly. That pilot must know that if they fail to win in the opening blows, their window for victory may already be gone. Your protagonist should also show how they manage this resource to their advantage—or struggle against it.
Now imagine an average pilot with average consumption, everything balanced and fine, until one day they face an opponent whose mecha specifically drains and steals energy from their battery remotely. Now we have a countdown. The pilot who used to be average is forced to become fierce and aggressive, desperate to win before the battery hits zero and they lose immediately.
In this way, we have more tools to present problems, to show opportunities, to introduce more conflict, to convey courage, to show character, and to tell more of the story behind a situation.
If you liked these little tips and want to see ideas or how it went for me, you can check out my novel linked in the signature below.