That could be possible. As for a reasom, perhaps his family lives on the planet where the war was at that moment. He could have moved away to be with Pria's mom, but feel the need to try and protect his family back home.
Blue2 Member
STATUS: Just popping in to say hi! 9 yrs ago
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- Blue2 9 yrs ago
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Just popping in to say hi!
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Hi and welcome!
I started roleplaying about 18 years ago and have recently returned to it because I missed it. I most like adventurous sci fi and fantasy, or more slice of life to action action filled modern day magic and mutants. I'm not into fandoms anymore and I'm not looking for romance roleplays either.
Often people create dark characters with heavy pasts. I do that sometimes too, but my character will then have a 'that's just life. Deal with it' attitude instead of feeling sorry for themselves. I also enjoy playing characters without such a heavy past. I enjoy the sciences so playing a scholar or mechanic is right up my alley. I also practise martial arts, but thougg I oike playing fighters, they are more the stealth characters than the muscled ones. I don't like hormonal (teenage) characters. I don't take death lightly so unless I'm playing an assassin my characters will look for ways to avoid murder.
Lastly, I love being a GM and controlling an entire world. I have some sci fi and modern fantasy worlds in my mind which I would like to play out here. I'm also a regular player, mostly casual where description is limited to what's necessary rather than describing every step, scent, bite or thought that occurs.
So that's a little about me. How about you?
I started roleplaying about 18 years ago and have recently returned to it because I missed it. I most like adventurous sci fi and fantasy, or more slice of life to action action filled modern day magic and mutants. I'm not into fandoms anymore and I'm not looking for romance roleplays either.
Often people create dark characters with heavy pasts. I do that sometimes too, but my character will then have a 'that's just life. Deal with it' attitude instead of feeling sorry for themselves. I also enjoy playing characters without such a heavy past. I enjoy the sciences so playing a scholar or mechanic is right up my alley. I also practise martial arts, but thougg I oike playing fighters, they are more the stealth characters than the muscled ones. I don't like hormonal (teenage) characters. I don't take death lightly so unless I'm playing an assassin my characters will look for ways to avoid murder.
Lastly, I love being a GM and controlling an entire world. I have some sci fi and modern fantasy worlds in my mind which I would like to play out here. I'm also a regular player, mostly casual where description is limited to what's necessary rather than describing every step, scent, bite or thought that occurs.
So that's a little about me. How about you?
Most Recent Posts
81 posts
in 9 days
Online
"Ye'r lucky I spotted ya when I did. If yer'd flown on like that yer ship coulda blown up before yer'd made it ter the ground." The stout shipyard owner glanced at the battered ship which was smoking ominously and rubbed his large belly. "Well, good riddance I say by the looks of it. No offence ma'am but whoever sold you that piece of crap musta been hopin' ter make some easy buck from ya. But ye'r in the right place now, I tell ya. 9500 credits yer said, eh? Well, I got me three ships that fit yer budget."
The shipyard owner waved his dirty hand towards his business and you could see ships of many different sizes all over the place. Most looked quite a bit larger than the ship that was smoking behind you and from the brand names you could see you gathered that this man dealt in the more luxurious kind. He even had what looked like a brand new Mattiz grande, the kind of ship high-ranking gouvernment people chose for transortational purposes. For most of these ships you didn't even have to check the price tag to know they were well beyond what you could afford.
The shipyard owner was a fat, balding man who, by the looks of the very tight suit he wore, believed himself to be a lot thinner than he actually was. His hands were smudged with grease, but his face was surpisingly clean. He was also definitely the talkative kind, for you couldn't get a word in while he took you to another end of the yard. He kept pointing at the ships, telling you with some exageration what kind of buyer he expected for that model and what features it was equipped with. He was obviously quite proud of his business.
He took you to a hanger in the back and opened the large doors. Inside you could see several ships, each much smaller than the ones outside. This was obviously the hangar where he kept the vessels he deemed not suitable for public display.
"There's my first option fer yer." He pointed at a small, black ship on his left hand side. "A Vixen 3001." He explained rather unneccesarily as the name was painted in red letters atop the metal. "She's not too great looking from the outside, but they don't come more reliable than the Vixens." He might exagerate here and there but he spoke the truth this time. This Vixen model was easily fourty years old, but Vixens were known to make it to fifty years without breaking any engine part. They had all sorts of troubles with bolts and screws on the interior, the 2000 model had had computer problems, but whatever happened, a Vixen would keep flying. It's space-folding capabilities were not great, but with 2.01 lightyears a day you could do worse.
The Vixen 3001 was a small ship, though. It had 3 cabins, so you could take two passengers and with some creative remodelling you could carry as much cargo as your previous ship could. The price -2500 credits- was reasonable. With this ship you could continue living the way you had previously, but it was definitely not an upgrade.
"So whadda yer say? Wanna check the inside or move on straight ter the next option I got fer yer?"
in 9 days
Online
"Ye'r lucky I spotted ya when I did. If yer'd flown on like that yer ship coulda blown up before yer'd made it ter the ground." The stout shipyard owner glanced at the battered ship which was smoking ominously and rubbed his large belly. "Well, good riddance I say by the looks of it. No offence ma'am but whoever sold you that piece of crap musta been hopin' ter make some easy buck from ya. But ye'r in the right place now, I tell ya. 9500 credits yer said, eh? Well, I got me three ships that fit yer budget."
The shipyard owner waved his dirty hand towards his business and you could see ships of many different sizes all over the place. Most looked quite a bit larger than the ship that was smoking behind you and from the brand names you could see you gathered that this man dealt in the more luxurious kind. He even had what looked like a brand new Mattiz grande, the kind of ship high-ranking gouvernment people chose for transortational purposes. For most of these ships you didn't even have to check the price tag to know they were well beyond what you could afford.
The shipyard owner was a fat, balding man who, by the looks of the very tight suit he wore, believed himself to be a lot thinner than he actually was. His hands were smudged with grease, but his face was surpisingly clean. He was also definitely the talkative kind, for you couldn't get a word in while he took you to another end of the yard. He kept pointing at the ships, telling you with some exageration what kind of buyer he expected for that model and what features it was equipped with. He was obviously quite proud of his business.
He took you to a hanger in the back and opened the large doors. Inside you could see several ships, each much smaller than the ones outside. This was obviously the hangar where he kept the vessels he deemed not suitable for public display.
"There's my first option fer yer." He pointed at a small, black ship on his left hand side. "A Vixen 3001." He explained rather unneccesarily as the name was painted in red letters atop the metal. "She's not too great looking from the outside, but they don't come more reliable than the Vixens." He might exagerate here and there but he spoke the truth this time. This Vixen model was easily fourty years old, but Vixens were known to make it to fifty years without breaking any engine part. They had all sorts of troubles with bolts and screws on the interior, the 2000 model had had computer problems, but whatever happened, a Vixen would keep flying. It's space-folding capabilities were not great, but with 2.01 lightyears a day you could do worse.
The Vixen 3001 was a small ship, though. It had 3 cabins, so you could take two passengers and with some creative remodelling you could carry as much cargo as your previous ship could. The price -2500 credits- was reasonable. With this ship you could continue living the way you had previously, but it was definitely not an upgrade.
"So whadda yer say? Wanna check the inside or move on straight ter the next option I got fer yer?"
Sure it can be both. Fighting for the freedom of a repressed people so his daughter can grow up without fear. Perhaps the planet was still on the outskirts of the warzone when Pria was born, but uprising began among factions of their world and her dad wanted to prevent their planet to be involved?
Ok I'll see it appear soon then.
"He's lying." Levan muttered to himself, though as happened more often when he did that, it was loud enough for people around him to hear. As usual though, he wasn't paying much attention to the people around him, his own thoughts needed to be voiced.
"The aftermath clearly showed evidence of of magigal residue." He continued undisturbed, paying little attention to his surroundings even as someone leaving the crowd bumped in to him. "The destruction was vast. Gunpowder... Gunpowder, fireworks, they are destructive..." He mused over that word as it was claimed to be the weapon, but quickly shook his head. "No, that can't be right. That leaves residue, it does not destroy so clean. There's no evidence supporting the claim of gunpowder. It looked just as the tales describe destruction by magical means."
He rubbed his hands and a small smile crept appeared on his face. To be so close to magic. And the elders called him a fool for believing magic existed. Perhaps he might find one of the rumoured artefacts soon so he could really start his study and write his book. Oh this was so exciting!
"The aftermath clearly showed evidence of of magigal residue." He continued undisturbed, paying little attention to his surroundings even as someone leaving the crowd bumped in to him. "The destruction was vast. Gunpowder... Gunpowder, fireworks, they are destructive..." He mused over that word as it was claimed to be the weapon, but quickly shook his head. "No, that can't be right. That leaves residue, it does not destroy so clean. There's no evidence supporting the claim of gunpowder. It looked just as the tales describe destruction by magical means."
He rubbed his hands and a small smile crept appeared on his face. To be so close to magic. And the elders called him a fool for believing magic existed. Perhaps he might find one of the rumoured artefacts soon so he could really start his study and write his book. Oh this was so exciting!
I hadn't really thought on what that war was about. I was just gonna suggest that Pria's dad left to fight the war because he chose adventure over family, Or with slightly sweeter words, that he needed a break to find himself again, a 'recharge' if you will, or one last adventure. If you want we can explore the war. Does it involve one planet or more? Wars usually start small, with an uprising and escalate from there.
Mom looked at you with sadness in her eyes. "I guess you're old enough to know the truth now." She said with a heavy sigh. "Your dad left to fight in the war. I told you that much. But Pria... When he left, the war hadn't reached us yet. It had nothing to do with us and at that time there was no reason to believe we would get involved. He went off to fight a war still halfway across the planet..." You could see there was more to the story, but your mother didn't seem very willing to elaborate.
I just don't get why you can't just find a regular job like Hannah did and stay closer to home?." Hannah was the neighbouring kid, a few years older than you. She finihed her studies and now has a perfectly good job in sales and marketing.
Your mother was not pleased, but could you blame her? She'd spent the past two decsdes jist taking care of you. She'd given up nearly everything just for you. You were her life and now you were leaving her. She didn't sound angry though, just sad.
"Well, I guess you're too much like your father for that." There was definitely a hint of... Annoyance in that comment. Strange, for she never apoke of your father with anything otger than respect. At least not to you.
Your mother was not pleased, but could you blame her? She'd spent the past two decsdes jist taking care of you. She'd given up nearly everything just for you. You were her life and now you were leaving her. She didn't sound angry though, just sad.
"Well, I guess you're too much like your father for that." There was definitely a hint of... Annoyance in that comment. Strange, for she never apoke of your father with anything otger than respect. At least not to you.
Your questions were considered for a moment. Then Rachel said "Have you ever learned a new language? You can't expect to be capable of in-depth conversations from day one. Especially with a language that is not related to your own, your brain needs to be rewired first before you can start making sentences. And then it takes a lot of time before you are fluent with it.
"The same goes for magic. You say you can move things without touching them, right?" She paused to see if you nodded, then continued. "But for years you've been moving objects only by touching them -save perhaps the odd accident. Your brain doesn't just flip a switch and know how to do function differently because it gains access to another source of energy. It's like it needs to speak a whole new language. It takes practise."
"The same goes for magic. You say you can move things without touching them, right?" She paused to see if you nodded, then continued. "But for years you've been moving objects only by touching them -save perhaps the odd accident. Your brain doesn't just flip a switch and know how to do function differently because it gains access to another source of energy. It's like it needs to speak a whole new language. It takes practise."
The sun was setting by the time you saw the town the map had promised you would be there. It was a good thing too, for the horse you were riding was starting to complain at your weight and your other horse was already worn down from carrying you the other half of the day. There should be a tavern in this town, the white lion, which you were referred to where you could get a hot meal and a bed. The food wasn't amazing there, but the owner had quite a few connections. Perhaps he could hook you up witg a job to refil your purse.
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