Dervish

The Elder Scrolls: Swords & Septims

Peik and Hank are running a game together?

Welp, someone's going to suffer emotional character trauma.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

DK, the ongoing champion of near-incineration.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

@Peik DK is gonna go for a non-lethal takedown on whichever one happens to be on the opposite end on Niernen's magic, since it's become a meme that she's a hair breath away from incinerating him at any given moment.

Let's B!tch. I feel it's a healthy release for our roleplay annoyances 2.0

I just put Sex on my character sheets instead of gender. I'm sympathetic to gender identity and what not, but I also don't know what half the terms are and I kind of feel it can be rather divisive at times if one player is insisting in pronouns that aren't he/ she, and I always worry that there may not be a separation between player character and the player themselves that might cause a bit of conflict between players.

It's just one of those hot button current issues that has to be handled with more tact than I think you're going to find in any particular group, and I like to keep my roleplays separate from current political climates.

For instance, on another site I stumbled across a roleplay that had a premise, and I am not exaggerating, that it was a dystopian future where heterosexual cisgendered whites ruled society and the nation and the player characters were required to be rebels who were ethnic and gender minorities; the GM was not accepting straight or white characters. No idea if that game ever got traction, but it always struck me as a roleplay that was needlessly combative and politically motivated.

A general rule of thumb I have as a GM is to let players make the characters they want to play and help them refine those ideas into something that fits the game. If I were taking that game at face value, I'd kind of expect them to let players play either a character from the villainous group or a sympathizer, ao long as it worked for the group. Personally, I don't see what bearing having a game that emphasizes gender identity or sexual orientation has on like 95% of roleplays unless it's A) a romance game or B) is a game that has a central theme of discrimination, which to be fair seemed to be the case for this example, but it's also an incredibly sensitive topic. There's a comfortable degree of separation between real life and fantasy, so it's one thing about playing something like an elven alienage in Dragon Age as a setting, or a forbidden gay romance in a setting that is against that (say a Game of Thrones RP where nobles are expected to produce heirs) verses something like a game set during the holocaust in real life, or making a game that is inspired by controversial current events. All I'm saying is it's a lot easier to explore heavy and difficult themes if players don't have a personal stake in it or an agenda and the use of methaphorical stand ins verses contemporary things (what sounds easier and less controversial to write about; elven or Jewish genocide at the hands of a dictatorship?).

Ultimately, people write to enjoy themselves, tell a story, and for some people it's escapism. Roleplaying is a bit different than writing a novel because you really have to factor in the fact you're a part of a writing community and with it comes a certain amount of tact. Novels are something that you are only accountable to yourself.

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 1 (Completed)

So... what exactly are we waiting on? Just others to finish posts or..?

@MacabreFox

Some people are working on collabs and what not, the whole game kinda grinded to a bit of a halt for a bit for a variety of reasons, me thinks.

Mass Effect: Borealis

Lafayette Station, Past the Checkpoint

It was something resembling a plan, at least. Hazan, of all people, seemed to have put a lot of thought for getting Drono into the clinic. Tanya listened through her omnitool, slouched against a wall of the metal service tunnel, staring absentmindedly at a strip of blue LED lights that provided the bulk of the illumination as she listened to the turian lay out his case, bit by bit. It was a good foundation, but some of it didn’t quite sit right.

”If I may,” Tanya interjected, turning her eyes from the lights to the map that Hazan had sent. ”I think we’ve been getting really lucky so far as to not prod the wasp nest with fucking with Eclipse’s tech and getting through customs. If we keep pressing our luck, someone’s going to get tipped off. We need to find a way to do this without mucking with the cameras too much; new disguises, maybe?”

Sitting at a table alone with his back to the group, Tonka sipped at literal soup bowl of coffee. The krogan’s wideset eyes surveyed the patrons around him, trying to ascertain if they were being monitored. ”If a bunch of us are all heading the same way in a short period of time, it wouldn’t even take an unpaid intern to start putting together that maybe, just maybe, those people who get through customs around the same time that suddenly started moving to the same location within a short time period from the same cafe might have something to do with one another. We have an actual doctor; why not get her some nurse scrubs and a wheelchair for Drono and have her go in with me? If others keep a lookout at different parts of the station along the way, as well as monitoring the terminals, we can get Drono in without fanfare. If Yestin starts to get wise, it would do us good to start causing trouble all over rather than all head to the same easily assaulted clinic.”

”I’m probably best keeping where I’m at down here like a little rat. Unless they lock me out, I can at least slow them down or misdirect the Eclipse mercs. I’d like to get into Eclipse’s networks, but that’s a double edged sword and an intrusion is almost certainly going to be noticed immediately.” Tanya paused. ”I mean, Eclipse is basically what happens if a high school AV club is filled with sociopaths and people with extremely flexible ethics. What I mean is they’re a bunch of extremely dangerous nerds who we can’t take lightly.”

Dungeons and (Krayt) Dragons, Star Wars: The Price of Freedom

I did the thing and posted!

Dungeons and (Krayt) Dragons, Star Wars: The Price of Freedom

Zekha scowled at Varen when the human mocked him for asking, what he thought, was a very sensible line of questions. Of course he was an adult, but in the Dug's experience if you gave people free reign to do what they wanted without any directives, it would get out of hand. One asshole decides not to do their dishes, then the next person piles theirs up, and absolutely nobody wanted to clean the lavatory after aliens expelled half their body weight inside of one.

"Putrid bantha sty, got it." Zekha retorted. The captain didn't want disciple? That was fine with him; it meant he'd get to reap what he sowed and Zekha would be largely left to his own devices, which he'd do his duties beyond expectations. The rest of the ship could turn into the equivalent of a refugee camp for all the Dug cared; he just wanted free reign to pursue his own interests without any overbearing captain or first mate butting their squashed hideous noses into his business. Give him a week and the right parts, and Zekha would have a personal droid to clean up after him, leaving his mind free to pursue much more worthy pursuits. If Varen decided to keep being a flippant slimo, he'd soon discover the ventilation system going to his quarters would start accumulating a variety of unpleasantness without warning.

The rest of the tour was concluded in prompt fashion, the Phoenix uniformly disappointing throughout. The entire ship should have been scrapped before most everyone aboard was born, but alas, Zekha was getting the impression that the captain was an extremely cheap individual who would have prostituted his own mother for a few credits. Whatever the case may be, the Dug's mind was whirring with possibilities for tinkering, to make the shitheap that would be home for the foreseeable future respectable, if not somewhat admirable. He only briefly noted that the ship had armament; something like that was more ceremony than practical. This thing wasn't going to be out maneuvering an interceptor or pirate barge.

At last, they approached what was to be Zekha's quarters and the adjacent engine compartment, which to the Dug's pleasant surprise was in good working order at a cursory glance; the readings looked to be in the green and nothing sounded off, such as auxiliary cooling pump cavitation or severe fluctuating frequency in the hyperdrive; the only thing that was of some concern was that some of the systems were running a bit hot, which usually meant that the system was calling for more power than the generators were reliably putting out and the coolant pumps were either losing prime or the pipes themselves were causing head loss. The Dug tilted his head at the Captain's request for readings every 12 hours; something like an ancient creaking ship such as this needed routine rounds, likely every 4 hours or so, because once one system failed, the whole thing would start a chain reaction of problems if one weren't diligent. He was also surprised at being assigned two lackys for the take off prep, although it couldn't hurt to have multiple eyes and trained crew in case something happened to him. As the crew departed to their respective stations, Zekha was stuck with a towering Wookiee who looked like she didn't know what the heck a wrench was and she said as much. At least she didn't overstate her utter lack of experience. There were things any idiot could do, and the Dug appreciated that Liak'ykam, or Leaky as he was starting to think of her, bothered with a translation device. It was above par for his usual dealings with her species.

"Easy enough, my shaggy friend. I'll have you watch some of the instruments, or in rookiee terms, the glowy screens and needles that ain't supposed to move much." Reaching into his tool belt, Zekha produced a white-tipped marker and began to mark the various gauges in basic for what they did after quickly affirming from memory what exactly correlated with what, and with that out of the way said, "All you have to worry about is making sure that the dials and bobs don't go outside those white markings, got it? If they do, tell me right away unless you like sucking in the vacuum of space or radiation leaks. Once we're out of orbit, I'll have you start putting together an inventory of whatever supplies we have on hand so when yours truly has to fix something, we aren't tying joints together with your shaved fur. Likewise, those screens over there," he pointed to the SCADA system, "Will tell you if there's an alarm, and if anything starts blinking red or yellow, again, find me."

Turning to the Twi'lek, he considered the blue-skinned woman for a few moments. Deciding to err on the side of caution and assume that she was just as clueless as Leaky, he pulled out a datapad and spent a few moments going through files he had leftover from his previous tour on a 587-R class transport, pulling up a checklist and locking the device on the file to prevent snooping. "There's not a lot you can do right now that wouldn't take me hours to make you understand anything that isn't more basic than buttered Gorg jerky, so there's a basic pre-flight checklist for securing the ship before departure. Doors, ramps, equipment that's laying around, things that sound very wrong, make sure it's secure or somebody's going to get a concussion or worse if our Trandoshian pilot turns out being an alcoholic or a death stick addict. We'll go over anything you don't know after I make sure everything here is passable." Zekha said, looking between the two women. Why couldn't one of them be a Dug? They'd be prettier, and how anyone got anything accomplished with only two hands was beyond him. Setting down his tool belt, he produced a pair of hearing protectors for himself and scrounged up some old plugs he'd stuffed in a hard case if he had to make do. He had no idea if they'd fit either a Wookiee or Twi'lek, but it was all he had. Offering them up, he said, "If you need to ask something, make it quick; this ship gets loud enough you'll swear we're all about to die when it's getting up to speed."

Humanity's Last Army

The battle was all but over, and the feeling of acute dread filled Taran's heart knowing that any moment would be his last; the Bulwark would claim Pluto like every other world, and countless lives were thrown into the grinder like meat to be discarded to buy even another day for humanity to continue existing; lives spent were the currency of survival, and that exchange rate was only getting worse. Taran's magazine was on its last few rounds, and after that it would be over. He frowned, thinking of Brigid and the daughter he'd barely spent time with. He'd missed all of the important events of her upbringing, telling himself that he had to sacrifice time away from his family to make sure they could afford to live. To late he realized that he would never get the opportunity to try and make it up, he was a shit father.

"I'm sorry." He said, both to a family millions of kilometers away and to the endless bodies with stories not unlike his own, their entire lives leading up to this final moment with nothing to show for it except that it was unlikely they'd ever get a proper funeral.

The screeching engines of transports arrived, giving Taran hope that maybe, must maybe, they'd get an extraction and live to fight another day, to make the amends he never did before enlisting. Instead out of the hatch of one of the lead transports departed four armoured figures that began decimating the ranks of the Bulwark, including the Brumaks that were up until then unstoppable forces of nature. The initial satisfaction of being rescued in such a dramatic fashion came with a sour thought; had even one of those soldiers been at the Pluto garrison, how many lives could have been saved? Instead, they ride in and take control of a lost battle after countless soldiers laid down their lives in a desperate last stand that was more like a culling than a military engagement. The entirety of the Bulwark contingent was eradicated with only one casualty out of the 4 power suits, and knowing the danger had passed prompted Taran to collapse onto his haunches, exhausted and simmering with anger. "They must be so proud, winning battles all by themselves." Taran growled to his partner. "While we aren't even issued anti-armoured weaponry to kill the Brumak and rifles that barely function, they get state of the art hero tech that makes it clear that the brass does not care that their shit logistics wipe out entire regiments. Listen to these idiots cheer at their saviours; we were bait to draw the Bulwark to one decisive location. Mission accomplished."

Humanity's Last Army

Sorry I've been slacking on writing across the board the past week, I'll try for today!