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Recent Statuses

3 yrs ago
Current Remember, nobody actually enjoys roleplaying if there isn't at least five shameful fetishes uncovered by the 2nd page.
5 likes
5 yrs ago
Somebody stole my mood ring. I don't know how to feel about it.
14 likes
5 yrs ago
Let's be honest, it's far more satisfying and challenging to actually imagine what a character looks like than paste a hundred gifs of a celebrity and call it good.
4 likes
5 yrs ago
So, a team of players who are good at playing as a team in a team-based game are individually bad players. Seems kind of silly when you put it like that, no?
8 likes
5 yrs ago
My goal these days is to have an RP that can actually finish, or the very least, last a few years. I see way too many die on page one to take chances
4 likes

Bio



Lowering the site's value since January 2012.


Most Recent Posts

@Silver Fox

I assumed so. Most of our character's are not dumb enough to come to a location with other armed individuals without knowing who is inviting them.

Edit: Also, Ill step Ja'Far up for leadership if y'all want. He seems to be one of the more cool-headed ones in the group right now. I've also finished training so Ill be working on it soon.

That don't mean I won't let anyone else post before me however.


I certainly wouldn't advocate for playing a character like they would react (Ja'Far trying to assume a leadership role to bring order, for instance), but keep in mind trying to get a bunch of high strung individuals who don't know each other into an umbrella where they'll listen to someone in the same boat as them probably wouldn't go over well, especially considering the speaker is batarian.

Rykarn, for instance, isn't going to commit to anything until he finds out who sent the coordinates. He pretty much missed all the high tension moments thus far, so he'll interject if something like that pops up again, but it doesn't seem likely it will before the Spectres arrive and wonder why the hell their hand picked candidates are already trying to kill each other.

Shadow Broker File 04KB32-08182176
Location: Elysium, Illyria, Jackal’s Hideout Tavern
Timestamp: 2432
Source: Surveillance Camera CF-03
Type: Video Feed
Subjects: T. Carson (Scott, Terra Nova), S. Mathews (San Pedro Sula, Earth)


_ _ _


”You sure you want to go through with being grilled with questions when you have non-existent judgement?” Tanya asked, the faintest upturn of her lips. ”I should record tonight for posterity. Alright, let’s start with something simple. What drove you to become a mercenary?”

”Part necessity, part desire. I needed to keep on the move because the Alliance was angry with me, and I had grown bored of the same things around me. Wanderlust, I suppose you would all it.” Serena replied, pressing ‘order’ on her menu as she found the water. ”My turn!” She beamed at Tanya. ”What is your favorite style of paint? I’ve noticed that you paint a lot and you’re really good, if prone to alternative styles. So, which style is your favorite?”

As Serena finished her question, the server came along, an asari, and brought Tanya’s order to the table. She smiled, thanked her, and popped one of the cactus fries in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before replying. ”I can’t say I have a style, per say. Didn’t have classes or anything, I just started doing it one day after mild curiosity and it just stuck. I mean, I go through different type and brands of paint on a regular basis, it’s just mainly what’s cheap and easy to get shipped around without absurd customs fees. I guess I like Kees brand best, it’s what a lot of the guys back in the 63rd like to use to decorate the Mantises and Makos with.” she replied, chewing another fry. ”Okay, gotta ask. Why the hell would the Alliance be mad at you, did you piss in some Admiral’s shoes and go for a joyride in a Grizzly?”

Serena made a quick note on a napkin, tucking it into her dress, smiling. At Tanya’s question, she paused a moment, gathering her thoughts. ”You know the blue print I have? The one that’s a Krogan Mech? It’s design is based off of a Krogan Merc I used to run with. We did missions for the Alliance. Our last one went to shit and we had to bail. Problem was our exit was cut off so we had to take an alternate route. Which lead to a dead end. We were trapped in a room, with no way out.”

They were going to throw grenades in, since assaulting a Krogan with his back to the wall is a stupendously bad idea. So Barat sacrificed himself for me. Covered me with his body while jarring me to shield myself. The grenades went off, and he died. I panicked, lost my cool, and ran. When I ran...I sorta took the VI they sent me to recover. So they’re really pissed at me. All in all, it was a disaster.” Serena smiled sadly at Tanya. “There was some good that came from it. I met Vellios and you guys.” She drummed her fingers on the table. ”Onto less depressing topics, Weekly Robot death battles on the ship. Yes or no? You and I would have to build everyone’s robots, of course, but I think it’d help for stress relief.”

For once, Tanya didn’t know what to say; it was not the answer she was expecting out of Serena. [color=cyan][I]So that’s why she’s building the mech like a krogan, in memoriam of her friend.[I][/color] she thought, exhaling slowly as she took it in. It was one thing to lose a friend, it was quite another when they gave their lives to save your own. ”I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean to have you drag that up. I don’t know if it means anything, but if there’s some way you want to pay your respects to Barat, even if it means helping finish that mech, I’m here for you.” she replied with a smile. ”Going to have to put that as a hard no for robot death battles; last thing I need is to find my parts going missing and people nagging me to get their shit together. But I’ll tell you what; if you find something like that going on when we have shore leave, we’ll build one together.” she said, drumming her fingers in thought.

”So when you aren’t crammed on a ship with a bunch of wankers, what kind of hobbies do you have, or what did you like doing before signing up?”

”You’re sweet and not nearly as tough as you make yourself out to be. If I wasn’t drunk I’d be crying and hugging you. Don’t think I won’t take you up on that offer.” Serena returned Tanya’s smile, gratefully taking glass of water she ordered.

She gave a dramatic sigh. ”No one ever wants to do the Robot death battles. As for hobbies...well, hmmm.” Serena drummed her fingers on her chin. ”Well, you know chess, you still owe me a game by the way, and that I like to make things from scratch like chess boards and drones. So, I guess I should throw in the things you don’t. I like to dance. Classic, newer styles, any and all. It was part of the way I escaped the mess in San Pedro Sula.” Serena giggled. ”But you won’t get me to admit that sober. It doesn’t seem like something a mercenary mechanic should know how to do it. I could even teach you how to spin and dip me, if we ever need to blend into a high class place.” She winked at Tanya, smirking slightly. ”What else...” Serena hummed. ”I also like to garden, though not much. A few pretty flowers here and there.”

”What about you? What drove you to the Alliance?

”Usually people who are drunk are the ones who start bawling and clinging to people, not the other way around. Remind me to keep you nice and liquored up, keeps my personal space intact.” Tanya replied with a laugh.

”And sure, I haven’t forgot my promise. You have to admit, it’s been a shitty couple of weeks trying to even sit down and relax. We’ll make time for chess sometime in the next couple of days. And I don’t think there’s anything particularly weird about a ‘mercenary mechanic’ liking to dance… I’m pretty sure asari are born knowing how to work a pole for credits and they’re the ones who founded Eclipse. Your dancing is my painting; it’s an expressive outlet. Yours just draws more attention.” she observed with a dismissive wave the the hand.

Running a hand through her hair, she continued. ”After my little misadventures at Mindoir, to say I was a mess was an understatement. I wasn’t deemed fit for frontline combat anymore, and they shuffled me to backwater assignments far away from any potential hotspots where I basically was transferred to the mechanical engineering divisions between therapy sessions. Didn’t really take to it; I got taken away from my surviving friends, what was basically my family, and being more or less told that they don’t trust me to do my job just soured the whole experience for me.

“The Alliance used to be everything for me, and it was my original escape from being reminded of home. I guess I was selfish when I enlisted, I left my mother behind alone to do what my father did, and when I left the Alliance and came home, I must have resembled everything she hated about the Alliance because she pretty much couldn’t stand to look at me at that point. I guess I’m just running away from more problems.”
she concluded with a frown.

”Oh, shit, Tanya I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring all that up. Fuck, I’m an idiot. Maybe I shouldn’t tag along on that trip to the memorial. Since I’m just gonna open up my mouth like that.” Serena muttered, going to hug Tanya then suddenly pulling back. ”Personal space, right, forgot.” Serena sighed. ”We’re pretty shit at staying away from depressing topics. Lets try for round 3.” She tapped her fingers along the edge of her glass.

”Favorite class of ship? So help me if you don’t say Yasis C-23…..”

Tanya grinned. ”We work in an industry where we kill people for money. What part of that seemed cheerful to you? Besides, you’ve nothing to apologize for. I’ve made peace with what happened, it’s the only way I’m going to get over it. If I tried to pretend it didn’t happen and refused to talk about it, I’d just be running away from my past instead of learning from it, something as we’ve established I’m rather rubbish at. Small steps, yeah?” she capped off with a wink.

”So shut up, you’re fine. I want you to come. Anyways, for ships? I’d be amiss if I didn’t give asari Ahlatania-class dreadnought design a nod because they’re bloody well the pinnacle of technological innovation for military warships in the galaxy, but I’ll always have a soft spot for the SX3 Interceptor. It’s sleek, maneuverable, and there’s something a lot more interesting and romantic about fighter pilots rather than some stuffy commander standing at the helm of a cruiser ordering batteries several hundred meters away to launch munitions at something that’s 300 kilometers away. Compare it to rally racing verses long-haul trucking, I suppose.”

Finishing off her fries, she asked, ”If you could live, expenses free, on any planet, where would you go?”

”Progress. You’re right. And for the record, I’m rarely depressed.”

Serena scoffed. The Ahlatania-class, overpriced Asari craftsmanship. They like dodging and poking at the enemy. Yasis-C23 ships are built like Krogans. Tough, dependable, and they hit like dreadnoughts on steroids. The pinnacle of Volus engineering at the time. Only problem is they guzzle ship fuel like alcoholic whores in debt. Damn things could barely get across one system without needing two refuels. They were completely ran out production once the Rebellions were taken care of. No more need for something that could take the beating of Krogan ships. If I could only get my hands on one of them…” Serena rubbed her hands gleefully together. ”I’d make them the pinnacle of military ships again.”

Serena tilted her head as she considered Tanya’s question. ”Hmmmm. It’d have to be Manus, the Volus colony. Pinnacle of engineering and mechanical creations. It’d be heaven. If you could jump to any time in history, it doesn’t have to be human, where would you go?”

Tanya burst out laughing. ”Now I know you’re fucking with me. Volus engineering is like seeing a “made in China” stamp on just about anything. It’s usually crude affordable reverse engineered knock-offs for much better designs, and I don’t trust a species that asked the turians for protection in exchange for doing their taxes experts in designing military hardware. Want to know why the Yasis ships never went anywhere? It’s because they were utter rubbish that lacked in just about every category that mattered for a military vessel. If your entire promotion line is ‘can take a shitload of shots because it sure as hell is incapable of getting out of the way or intercepting enemy fire’, you need to rethink your priorities.” she replied.

”And honestly? I can’t really imagine wanting to be anywhere but where I am now, timewise. Space exploration is full of endless possibilities and I’d think being stuck on one world would just be too confining. Plus all the wars and civil rights violations and general ignorance, and I’m happy here in the 22nd century, not back in the stone ages of a century ago. Your turn; what’s one thing you want to get done before you die?” Tanya asked.

”No, no, I’m serious! You haven’t seen the stuff the Volus keep for themselves. Top of the line, only bested by maybe the Salarians and the Quarians in their heyday. The Volus rely entirely upon technology. They’re good at it.” Serena insisted, rolling her eyes at Tanya’s laughter.

Serena didn’t hesitate. ”Aside from from building Barat? Make Vellios understand he’s better than what everyone tells him, and better than what he thinks he is. That he can be more than just ‘a Haides survivor’ Serena ran her hand through her hair, sighing. ”It’s going to be a long fight.

She paused, sticking the tip of her tongue out as she thought. ”How’d you get Shithead? Built him, bought him, won him in a close game of dice against a drunk Krogan?”

Tanya downed her drink, sliding the empty glass across the table so it clinked against another glass. She didn’t really buy the ‘volus are the best’ speech, but she would let it slide for now. ”Yeah, he’s a stubborn ass, but at least he has you. Maybe he’ll figure out how to stop hating himself for five minutes and smell the roses or whatever at some point, but it’s something he’s going to have to want to do for himself instead of having a giant pity party. Anyways, Shithead is just a regular old combat drone that comes with the usual microfabricator suite for combat engineers. All his extra bits and bobbles are just physical alterations I’ve made to the omnitool using non-proprietary parts so it can do things like play music, respond to voice commands, use a flashlight, that kind of thing. The microrockets and flamethrower are all stock accessories.

“Only hard part was figuring out how to stuff all that extra memory and processing power into something that’s relying on the relatively small amount of power from the omnitool wirelessly without it either dematerializing or becoming non-functional. I had to figure out a way to have it automatically reroute power from other functions depending on a priority algorithm and to have the functions that aren’t immediately being used put into a bare minimum background mode that wakes up when it’s called for. Takes about two, three days of tinkering every time I alter my omnitool to get Shithead up to its usual self because of so many little factors it honestly hurts my head to think about.”
She explained, looking up at one of the clocks mounted to the wall. ”It’s getting late, I’ve got some shit I have to get done back on the ship before the morning. I trust you can see those two back to the ship in one piece?” she asked, gesturing to their two shipmates.

Serena’s eyes seemed to shine as she listened too Tanya describe what went into Shithead, seeming to be disappointed whenever her fellow mechanic stopped talking. She glanced over at their crewmates, and grinned. ”If I can keep Vellios in line, surely I can drag these two back to the ship in one piece.” She got up, waiting for Tanya to do the same. ”You’ll be safe yourself on your way back?” She gave the mechanic a quick hug as she affirmed that she would be fine.

”I’ll corral the two of them and drag them to the ship later." she promised, waving Tanya off as she went to rejoin her two companions for the evening.
<Snipped quote by Dervish>

It's only a secret until you talk about it.


There are no secrets here.

Only Zuul.

@Rithy posts a lot of art in our WH40K RP. She's quite good. @Dervish


Imma need to investigate!
@Silver Fox

Phalanx might soon discover that "organic friendship" can be quite disappointing xD

Also, I made a temporary drawing of Vella for reference. Gonna make a proper 360 one when I'm more awake ^^


That's actually really awesome line art. o.o Do you have a gallery of your other work? I'd like to see moar.

Are hanar accepted?


OH HEY I KNOW OF YOU.

Tricks has told me all of your dirty little secrets, like the sixteen kilos of cocaine you have stored away under the floorboards.

SHIP PEOPLE!

Similar to the options presented for the Nightgate Inn crew, you have a few options:

-Search Kamal bodies and the ship for the key for the gate key; the more people looking, the more likely it is to be a success. I'm not going to say how many will be required to find the key.

-Attempt to pick the lock with what materials are available. This requires characters with locksmithing and smithing skills.

-Secure the escape. This will involve securing the ladders as well as clearing out any Kamal that are between the crew and freedom. This will involve combat rolls against a Big Bad, aka the Captain Kghergitz, the larger than normal Kamal with full plate armour, a full helm, and he dual-wields maces that might as well be great maces for lesser races. If he hits you, you're gonna hurt so bad.

So VOTE NAO!
Below the deck of the frigate…


As luck would hold, the team didn’t encounter any of the Kamal below deck, presumably because most, if not all of them, were topside dealing with the counter-boarding action. The sounds of violence and death were still rather audible above, and streams of dusty light were shining through like breaks in an overcast day through the cracks between planks. The ship construction, while somewhat alien in design, still retained enough familiarity that anyone familiar with sea vessels could identify common threads. While the frigate was large enough to house three subdecks, both Niernen and Valen seemed adamant that the prison hold was on the same deck they were on, which made sense; it was easier to load and unload “cargo”, and if there was a breakout, the prisoners would be unlikely to retreat below deck even further, reducing the odds of them stumbling across something important or useful in their escape attempt. Given the gaps between wooden planks, Do’Karth assumed there also wasn’t much protection from the elements. Comfort was never a concern for those you viewed less than you.
Large gashes in the hull let light shine through, illuminating the way through the dark interior, the evidence of the Dwemer ballista’s effectiveness even more apparent from the unique perspective of seeing the impacts first hand. Do’Karth reflected on the fact that the weapons and constructs were all hundreds of years old; how on Nirn did anyone manage to withstand the Dwemer when it came time to war? He quickly cast those thoughts aside, and continued through the deck, combing it for intruders.

Opening an oversized wooden door towards the stern, the sudden stench of body odor and waste filled the air and massive iron bars and a locked gate were visible, and beyond, the deprived but still alive bodies of the prisoners. The team rushed over to the gate, to inspect the lock. “We need to get the lock off…” Do’Karth stated, rather obviously. He looked at the people beyond the bars; hallow sets of eyes staring back with a mixture of hope and despair. “We are here to rescue you, hold-“

The Khajiit’s words were cut off when he was lifted off the floor as a force directly underneath him threw him upwards off of the deck and hard down, his ears ringing from the detonation of the charges that Roze and Sagax had placed, unbeknownst to the boarding team. The ship groaned in strain and protest, and a very present tilt to the floor was felt, along with the cracking of wood and the smell of burning timber. The below deck had exploded, and the flames would be spreading.

Inside the prison cell, a hole in the floor had opened up under the gored remains of one of the prisoners who had been caught directly above one of the charges. Flames flickered like the depths of Oblivion, salivating over the prospect of tasting Tamrielic flesh. The prisoners moved away from the hole, which only stood to grow larger and the supports of the ship started to give out due to structural failure. The ship would sink, and sooner rather than later.

The only way for the prisoners to escape was through the locked gate, which would require a key or a very crafty lockpicker who was dealing with a much larger and sturdier lock than a typical lock-pick would open. There was also still the matter of getting off the ship intact, since staying below deck seemed like a death sentence, and the Kamal were sure to be desperate and twice and dangerous as they were normally.

Below deck, the Pakseech sat slumped against the wall, a piece of jagged timber impaled through his abdomen. He scarcely minded, as the Kamal who was harvesting his people was screaming in otherworldly vocals as flames consumed him and the bodies of his cruel labour. Perhaps it was as the Hist willed it, and while his people failed to return to the swamps where they were summoned, this was a tiny gesture of vengeance against those that preyed upon the argonian people. As the Kamal finally lay still and the flames spread closer and closer, the Pakseech smiled through blooded lips before enough of his life had slipped out with his blood, dimming the lights of life forever.

The explosion had rocked the top deck enough that the mercenaries and sailors were largely knocked off their feet, some toppling overboard. The ladders that had been secured to the ship were knocked ajar, and it seemed that the only escape would be the frigid waters unless someone managed to remount the ladders, which were dragging down the hull of the frigate and dangerously close to dipping into the sea to be lost forever. The Kamal seemed even less sure of their footing, as it was much harder for creatures of their bulk and weight to adjust to the shifting balance of the deck and pick themselves up. However, the danger they provided was real enough, as anyone within their reach was at their utter lack of mercy. They likely knew of their impending fate, and were determined to bring the Tamrielic fighters down with them.

<Snipped quote by SgtEasy>

It's like many people drank 5 Monsters, 10 Redbulls, 4 cups of coffee, and 20 5 hour energy drinks XD


I'm operating on a single Rockstar.

Don't judge. >=[
@Dervish
My baby Quarian Rayes doesn't deserve this discrimination! All he's done is help steal from an arrogant xenophobe to help out another Quarian.


I don't trust anyone who I can kill by sneezing at them too hard.

Or who have to wear an environmental suit all the time.

Basically, quarians and volus are all Darth Vader.
@Dervish
Isn't Vella the Asari though :P


<Snipped quote by Dervish>

Also FIY, I'm playing as an Asari, just in case :D


I think I mixed your post up with one of the quarian posts when I was scrolling up. For some reason, I saw a quarian name and pegged it with explosive drones.

Maybe I'm racist against quarians and am coming to snap judgements.

WHOOOPS.
Also, about positioning, Vella is in a washing room, not in the main hall. Just FIY, as I think @PrivateVentures mentioned me in the main hall or something ^^


Ah, thanks! I wasn't entirely sure; I was trying to keep the details of everyone's posting straight while writing my own, I figured something slipped through the crack.

Reducing the quarians observed to one.
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