DepressedSoviet

You are able to see into the future. How does the avatar above you die?

I dunno, Witness Protection won't let me find out.

Are We the Bad Guys? - A WH40k RP [Mature]

Joran had been aboard ships before, both small cargo vessels barely able to warp from planet to planet, and massive hulking transport craft designed to carry a world's worth of Guardsmen to the next battlefield. But none put him as much on edge as this one. The Rigged Fortune had an ominous air about it, one that was not helped by the constant screaming of dying slaves as that Tau carried out experiments for Nykerion. Joran had agreed to join up with this crew because of the Trader's willingness to hire...less-reputable members of society, from criminals to psykers, to even Xenos, the crew of the Rigged Fortune was a menagerie of the dregs, outcasts, and criminals of the galaxy, and Joran was no exception.

Having escaped a life of fighting, and inevitably dying, for the so-called Emperor(Joran doubted he had even existed, it was said to have happened so long ago.), Joran found himself doing mercenary work in exchange for getting as far away as possible from Savlar. Now he found himself as one of the men-at-arms for the Rigged Fortune, and was currently in the midst of some impromptu, unapproved R&R. Rolling up his shirt sleeve, Joran found his usual chem injection site, and carefully slid the needletip into his arm. Slowly, he pressed down on the syringe plunger, and with a deep exhale felt the initial effects of the Stimm as it entered the bloodstream. Removing the needle from his vein, and then removing the needle from the plunger, which he'd save for later. Rolling his fatigue sleeve back down, Joran pulled a box of Lho-sticks from a pocket, slipped one out, and lit it with the pilot light of the flamer pistol attached to his lasgun.

Taking a few puffs of the Lho-stick, Joran groaned slightly when he was called down to the hanger by the so-called "Mistress of Arms", a Dark Eldar by the name of Naamah. Before joining up with the crew, Joran hadn't even known there was such a thing as a 'Dark' Eldar, having only barely known about the knife-eared Xenos from the (now proven inaccurate) Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer, the wholly pathetic handbook that Joran had, on more than one occasion, used as waste tissue after a bad night of experimentation with rations. Walking down the ship's halls towards the hanger, Joran tried to get as many puffs out of his lho-stick before tossing it on the metal floor and snuffing it out with his foot as he approached the hanger door.

Entering the hanger, Joran took a place in the ragtag excuse for a formation that then other men-at-arms were making. As he stood, waiting for the others to enter the hanger, he rubbed his eyes to try and keep them from glazing over due to the inactivity reacting poorly with the Stimm. Eventually, the last stragglers came in, and Naamah began the briefing.

"A ship has been detected. Rogue Trader Nykerio wishes to investigate it. You know what to do"

With that Joran rushed to prep his gear, making sure he had everything he needed with him before the boarding.

Are We the Bad Guys? - A WH40k RP [Mature]

@HankYou guessed correctly, Joran's got combat skills, so that's what he'd be doing.

You are able to see into the future. How does the avatar above you die?

A mixture of old age and heartbreak.

Star Wars: Enclaves

"Oh, trust me, you're not interrupting anything, just a boring Jedi reading about an extinct culture and the history of an lifeless planet. It would be my absolute pleasure to assist you. It is what I'm here for after all." Maz had said, and Wilkdon had responded with "That's good that I'm not interrupting anything. I'd hate to disturb important business.

"Now let's not disappoint your new acquaintance. If you'd follow me, most everything we have on force sight should be just this way."

Wilkdon followed along as Mazai guided him to the various texts he had requested. Very appreciative of her aid in gathering the various writings, Wilkdon felt that he had to be sure to return the favor sometime in the future. After all, one good turn deserves another. he thought, a slight grin on his face.

Maz was an interesting person, a skilled Jedi, and a friend that Wilkdon was glad to have around. Her knowledge of the force and related topics was a great asset to have at the enclave, her library archives a fount of learning, and her combat skills weren't too shabby either. She got along well with most people, and it seemed to Wilkdon that most everyone at the enclave enjoyed her company. So as the two walked the library halls, Wilkdon felt a positive mood that seemed all too rare in these dark times.

With the texts on Force Sight having been easily found and acquired, as presumed by Maz, all that remained was to find the texts on the Miraluka. Wilkdon looked to Maz and stated "I hope you have at least an inkling idea as to where the books on the Miraluka might be. I don't mean to be forceful or impatient, I'd just like to get these books to my young friend before the council meeting Luthor mentioned the other day."

Star Wars: Enclaves

@DirtyDingoCrap! I completely spaced that post. Expect it really soon. I'm really sorry.

Are We the Bad Guys? - A WH40k RP [Mature]

@Bright_OpsI'm assuming there'd be no qualms about Joran being on that ship as well? Cause I mean, if the trader takes in Xenos, I doubt he'd have any qualms about a rogue guardsman.

The Westminster League Of Extraordinary Individuals (WWII Superhero Spy RP)

Sorry to post in an RP OOC I'm not part of, but I need to do something.

@shylarah YOU TRAITOR! HOW COULD YOU?! JOINING ANOTHER SUPERNATURAL WWII RP?! I FEEL SO BETRAYED!

That is all, back to your RP.

For a Fistful of Credits: A Star Wars Story

@HexaflexagonI'm still here, just not sure I have anything to add right now.

Interplanetary Space Friends - A Game About Space Adventures, Friendship and Fast Food

Elarin watched with bemusement as Fiddlesticks made various remarks about Toony, calling her a 'maid', and all sorts of others. He felt that Fiddlesticks was just some sort of large kid in the end, and he didn't know whether that was a good thing or not. But when he expressed his concern about the food taking longer than expected, Elarin couldn't help but agree. The food DID seem to be taking longer than normal for a Henderson's Ribs, and might be a sign of bad things to come.

But when Vanessa brought the food out, Elarin's face grew a bit less weary, a small smirk forming on his reptilian snout. Finishing the sucker he had opened with a crunch, and placing the stick with the straw trash, he took a deep sip from his coffee. "Ahhh...now THAT'S the stuff...This'll keep me going for a bit longer." he said, the color returning to his scales, and his eyes looking a bit less glazed over. He was still in a somewhat foul mood however, so when Guerlaghiix began to threaten the group over getting their food first, he couldn't help but let out a groan. Fortunately, Vanessa seemed to have a hold on the situation, so Elarin just went back to his coffee and meal, grumbling something about "A bunch of strags that could go belgium themselves...", though he was careful to keep the volume low enough to where only those at the table could hear.