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    1. awkwarddingo 11 yrs ago

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Name: Richard "Richie" Wilbur

Race: Human

Age: 20

Gender: Male

Appearance: Short blonde hair with a deep blue streak that's longer than the rest of his that goes from between his eyes to just above his shoulders. yellow right eye. Left eye has no pupil or iris. Tan Skin. Black Target tattoo making his right eye the bull's eye. His usual attire consists of a t-shirt beneath a tight black fleece polo jacket along with a worn pair of matching jeans and boots.

Personality: Snarky. He lives to piss off his boss in the most minor ways possible. With his outfit, hair, and such. Despite this, he does his best to do a great job at work, which might just make the Captain hate him even more.
Character entries should be formatted like this:

Name: (Character's full name)

Race: (Either be human or make up your own alien race. The only rules for that is that they must be humanoid and speak the Universal Language. If you make an alien, give the race a name and describe what features the race has)

Age: (Age. If alien, put a number down and how old that is in human years)

Gender: (For the sake of being simple, aliens are either male, female, or asexual. Humans are male and female or whatever else.)

Appearance: (Distinguishing features. If alien, don't mention things that make it a part of that race. Describe features that are similar to hair, eye, and skin color of a humans, like fur, scales, and the like.)

Personality: (The hard to explain, easy to write category. I wont bother explaining. You know what to do.)

History: (Don't write this part down. Put it somewhere you can use for later, like a word document or your brain.)



Characters
Deep in space, on a calm peaceful planet known as Greeslebrorgifazerm, a large tribe of happy little people known as the Greesles lived in isolation from the rest of the galaxy. They picked their fruits, harvested their crops, made virgin sacrifices to their heathen gods. All was peaceful. Within said tribe, though, lived a stargazer. A nice man. He had a wife and a young daughter. They would all look up to the sky at night to watch the shooting stars fly by, but the stargazer couldn't help but think those shooting stars were something more. His fears were realized when he noticed a rather large one getting bigger and bigger, getting larger with each passing day. He told his tribe's elders to heed his warnings, to make peace with themselves before the world as they knew it ended. The elders laughed in his face as they cut it off and put his remains in a pot of stew for their god of soup, Vargeeshiv. as they commenced in their rituals and such, the wife and daughter of the stargazer looked up into the sky at the burning light headed their way. The mother could now see that there were now two lights next to each other as well as a large shadowed mass behind them. the wife could also hear what sounded like an abomination of the night, howling, it's cries getting louder and louder as the two lights and the large mass made its way to the poor planet. She held her daughter tight, asking her to close their eyes as she sang to her a lullaby about the stars.



Meanwhile, a large, trashy freighter the shape of an overturned trash can with wings flew through space as fast as it could go, it's engine sounding like it was about to go out, as always. Its headlights brightened the black emptiness ahead of them, and illuminated a basketball sized obstruction ahead. The driver of the ship mistook this almost-a-sphere for a piece of space debris and didn't bother to alternate course. The driver felt a thump as the dumpster ship flew into the sphere, leaving nothing but little bits to flutter about.

The ship itself was named Daddy's Little Girl. As mentioned before, it looked like a rectangular trashcan that was turned over. It was a faded dark blue color with rusty spots here and there. The wings went straight off to the sides and had big ugly thrusters strapped to the bottom of them by some Space brand Space Tape and some wire. Its interior rooms were arranged so that the crew quarters and the cargo room were the same room, a big empty space with junk strewn about here and there. The crew area and the cargo area were separated by some cheap portable walls. Whenever the ship made a hard turn, you could hear and feel some boxes hit the walls, sometimes making them slide. The beds themselves were in some metal boxes. They were about six feet across, two feet wide and two feet high, providing little space to roll around but plenty of space to remind yourself of the shitty job you chose and the miserable life you most likely endure through every day. At least you brought your own blankets and pillows. Another bright side you should be looking at is the fact that another box contains a shower with soap dispenser and water that is either blistering hot or as cold as the heart of a Borpiforg, nasty lawyers, the lot of them. in between this large, disgusting room and the bridge was the mess hall. As you would expect. it was disgusting, but spacey. The only food you could expect here was an arrangement of meat, fruits, and veggies, all blended together in a disgusting mix known as Space Brand Space Spam. Up next is a hallways leading to the captain's quarters off to the side, and then the bridge, where the captain currently resided, driving the ship with a steering wheel, a command console, and numerous pedals.

The Captain held down a button on the console next to a speaker.
"This is your too-good-for-you Captain Falkner. Don't mind the bump. Just some piece of trash some litterbug decided to neglect. Probably some space adventurer. Damn kids think their entitled to the galaxy. Don't have to pay friggin' parking tickets because they discovered a planet my ass..." He grumbled in his usual dull tone. "By the way, get all of your lazy asses to the bridge. There's a god-awful job someone wants you to do." The captain released his finger from the button and leaned back, using his feet to steer the wheel as he ate a two-hole donut. In between bites, he would look over his shoulder and towards the door behind them, impatiently waiting for his crew to get there.
We have enough for a good sized group of interns. Awesome seeing people interested in my first non fanfic idea. I'll start writing tomorrow.
Space. A big pit of nothingness where people try to find out exactly why they exist. Their place in space, if you prefer to call it that. After humans left their home planet thousands of years ago, mankind has spread throughout the galaxy. Plenty of them have found their said place in space. Adventurers still explore the universe, seeking out untold wonders, bringing home stories of their discoveries. Some have become space soldiers, people dedicated to fighting off hostile alien forces that seek to end mankind. Another batch have done the opposite, seeking to strengthen relations with other intelligent beings not human, learning new languages, religions, and secrets of the universe.

You are none of these exciting things whatsoever.

You have elected to scrape through the garbage that no one else bothers with. You have stooped to such a low level you are called upon to do trivial tasks that decent organics would consider just downright awful. You are a Space Intern. You fly through space on a dumpster-for-fecal-matter of a ship along with a band of suckers just as sad as yourself. Your captain is a jerk and does their best to make sure you along with your crew "earn" their menial paycheck after each job. You hope that one day, this will all pay off somehow. You delude yourself, though. Have you ever even heard of any Space Intern actually making a difference? The answer is no. No you haven't. Perhaps you hope to change that. Perhaps you will.

Or, who know, maybe you'll be one of the millions of corpses floating through space, only to float towards a star and be vaporized, with no one knowing the difference.



So there is a cynical rundown of my idea. Interested in doing oddjobs with a twist? message below. Any number of people are allowed in, but only one character per person. You don't have to be on ever single job. You may choose to remain on the ship and chat with others that chose to do so as well. Message at least once a week, and let me know whenever you're going to be unavailable if you can, please. No killing other people's characters and stuff. the usual rules for a kind of civilized roleplay.

bump
I might be interested. My Mass Effect knowledge may be a bit dry, though.
How to do your character things. Just small descriptions. No need to go into huge detail. MEchs will be provided.


Character List (submit your character and I will put them here)






The shivering pilot looked to his soon-to-be lancemates. "So..." he started, smiling with chattering teeth. "Is anyone else aching to get inside a mech? I find large lasers to make for very good heaters."
On the outskirts of the small base on the frozen surface of the hellhole of a planet, a large APC drove away from the landing pad where a Union Class Dropship recently landed. It was heading towards the barracks. A several kilometer drive was between the freshly recruited Mech pilots and a building with decent heating. One of the recruits, a young man cradling his helmet, shivered in his boots with both anticipation and minor hypothermia.

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