What is FELINE
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F.E.L.I.N.E. is a Private Military Company operating in VRChat with traditional weapons and an absolute disregard for structure and seriousness. While we occasionally engage in Mil-Sim missions, don’t expect tactical precision—our operators are goofy, questionably educated, and more focused on achieving the most minuscule objectives set at the start of a lobby than any grand strategic goal.
We roam freely across The Metaverse, hopping from lobby to lobby, embracing player agency and spontaneous fun. Expect shenanigans from Saturday to Monday, though unpredictability is our true schedule.
F.E.L.I.N.E. doesn't bother with conventional rankings. Instead, status is determined by the knife an operator carries, a hilarious nod to the Counter-Strike knife scene. Team Leads constantly change as the “coolest knife” is traded, lost, or outright stolen, leaving operators to follow the new leader without question—no matter how unqualified they may be. Without a proper mission, we wander aimlessly, finding glory in the ridiculous.
We offer custom avatars for those who want to jump in, but you’re also welcome to bring your own character into the chaos. If you’re tired of MMO-style roleplay grinds and want to rediscover the joy of RP through sheer nonsense, join us in The Metaverse!
F.E.L.I.N.E.'s standard operators are short felids, genetically engineered by Byron, a felid scientist and the owner of the Astro Purr, a space casino under their primary security detail. Rumor has it that their height is no accident—Byron refused to let them be taller than her.
Each operator from this program possesses nine lives, meaning they can endure death-defying scenarios with little more than extreme discomfort and a likely shattered skeleton. While tenacious in combat, their intelligence is… lacking, resulting in absurd and wacky deaths that defy all logic.
Every F.E.L.I.N.E. operator is equipped with: ✔ Assault Rifle ✔ Pistol ✔ Heads-Up Display (HUD) with NVG & Thermal Tracking ✔ Chest Rig
Despite their military-grade gear, their strategic thinking is nonexistent, making every mission more chaotic than the last.
If you ever see a squad of tiny, reckless felids armed to the teeth, chances are—you’ve just encountered F.E.L.I.N.E.
