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10 mos ago
Current dissertation done. can actually post again. yay.
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Captain Piper

Level: 2
day/time: day 3 - night
Location: Skyrim-Stormcloak Camp
Word count: 355
Interacting with: @Lugubrious


Pipers first thought when she saw Azura was that she had gotten the same idea as she had, to spirit away up the mountain in the dark. She’d thought about it herself but ultimately decided against it, which had turned out to be a doubly good idea as it turned out her theory about who the graybears where calling had been correct, though she wondered why they had only now decided to speak to Azura directly. She theorised that it might harder to target a specific person with whatever the greybeards where using to project their voices than it was to simply shout at 11 volume.

Your a good judge of character it seems, coz your right, I ain't going to stop you. I imagine these bearded fellows ll only get more insistent the longer their calls go unanswered anyway, so this is, I suspect, for the best. As for going with you, I think it might be wise of you to take a sneaking approach for this trip, something I aint suited for.

Why was rather clear, the robot’s furnace bathing her and everything around her in a warm orange glow. Out in the dark woods she would stick out like a sore thumb, rendering the singer’s camo cloak worthless and spoiling spoiling both their night vision. Any half wit could spot the pair a mile off while they would be unable to see anything beyond their little island of light in the inky blackness.

Still. It's is dangerous to go alone, Piper unbuckled the belt and holster carrying her carrion pistol and presented it to the spear wielding woman take this. It might help get you out of a sticky situation, just be aware that it’s a noisy bugger. I’ll be wanting it back later, so be sure to get back safe and sound. It’s the least you can do to repay me for the amount of flack I’m going to get for this from our resident asshat she softly chuckled at the thought of the boss blowing his top when she told him Azura was gone. Anyway. Good luck Azura. I’ll see you soon, and maybe hear you sooner if I’m right about our greybeard friends.


Naija

level: 5
day/time: day 3
Location: Tetris Castle
Interacting with: @Holy Soldier


After the small pink creature ran off Naija was left with the agonising wait for them to return with help. It was just her, rosalina, her little starfish companions and the barely holding on Guile all trapped there by the unhealable wound. After what felt like an eternity kirby returned leading someone who was not Dr Solus but one of the other scientists. In hindsight finding someone unhurt was a better idea than the one she had had. She was glad Dr Solus was getting help. What followed was a discussion containing far to many words she did not understand until she was asked to help move Guile to something called a rejuvenation chamber. Naija could at least guess what that did. There was only one slight problem with all this and that was that her hopping did not mix well with helping transport wounded people.

I. Hmm. let me just she muttered as she rapidly tried to solve this puzzle.

Ok. You carry one side and I’ll carry the other

She moved to Guile’s side, wrapped his arm over her shoulders. Then she quickly sang a rising series of three notes that caused her to transform in to best form. Pink scales coated her arms, lower legs, head and torso, her pupils turned to slits, her teeth grew sharp while her fingers and toes gaind claws that she carefully avoided digging into guils skin. The most important thing however, was that strength surged through her veins that the amphibious woman used to, rather unsteadily, stand tall for the first time, lifting Guile with Rosalina's assistance in the process. The two of them then carried him between them in a human crutch, following after Dr light to the rejuvenation chamber.
Zuukind civil war zone, Celestuial bureaucracy controlled space.

Rotatha 4 was an arid planet with two habitable areas around its poles that made up about 30% of its total surface. Colonised initially by Forensakai wanderers who had introduced a domesticated herd species best described as the animal equivalent of tumbleweed to the center desert regions to make it in some way useful, the world was only notable for being close to the border between the Celestial bureaucracy and the Republic of equals, two of the major factions in the Zuukid civil war. The civil war itself was in one of its colder periods, an armistice signed 5 years ago had led to an era of recovery for the opposed groups, one focused primarily around military build up, civilian relief, infrastructure repair, diplomatic intrigue, political restructuring and, in the case of the republic, preparations for its first election in 125 years. Rotatha 4’s only real gain from this period was that the celestial bureaucracy had finally had time to focus on civilian affairs again, which had mainly involved sending agents of the bureaucracy to assist/interfere with things that had been handled locally out of necessity for fifty+ years. As part of this the town of Saltspire had received not one but two officially trained priests, though sadly the second had come to look for the absentee first.

Saltspire itself was a small settlement on the coast of one of Rotatha’s 3 seas, where its primary purpose was to maintain the large network of wind turbines situated out on the tid-less ocean beyond, as well as the related storage and transmission equipment. It was made up of a combination of prefabricated buildings set up by the original settlers and newer structures made out of local red stone, all surrounded by a ring of farmland. The only thing setting the place apart from a one belonging to a type 1 civilisation was the combined sea, air and space port nestled against the shore, a drab strip of concrete and aloys housing maintenance craft and small cargo haulers. The other stand out pieces of tech in the vicinity where found at the local temple, an unremarkable building denoted only by a large anchor shaped symbol bolted to the wall of an otherwise unremarkable larger redstone building. Inside the recently arrived priest, one Vemt Rasdathian, was holding mass with a disappointingly small congregation in a large chamber that had once been a meeting hall that was currently filled with a thin haze of blue smoke. Suspended in this smoke drifted the congregation, given an illusion of a freedom from gravity by 8 anti gravity field generators, each holding a meditative stance appropriate for their myriad of body structures. Giant hexapodal Rodorphins, their mouths covered in oxygen enriching equipment tailored to still let the hallucinogenic gas in the air in floated alongside stout Lonoxi drones, rugged Kalixurans and insectile Forensakai trying their best to avoid instinctive use of their wings. At the front was the priest himself, a Sethhanide clad in a red toga that reached down to the first half meter of his tail which itself was coiled into a neat bundle blow him. Adoring his head was a crown of red gold adorned with a small anchor made of onyx that held the spaced out serpents affixed to his skull in order as he preached to the assembled faithful.

The priest spoke of the Anchor, how it surrounds them all, how it held the galaxy together and how all its people should be united together in reverence of it. He guided the faithful in first relaxing, then meditating and and finally in entering a trance like state to try and open their minds to the Anchor’s wonder, to reach out with their spirits to make contact with that great universal soul, so that they might learn of their place in the universe, of their purpose. To find meaning in the seemingly chaotic galaxy, to see patterns in the madness. To achieve enlightenment.

Eventually the session wound down, with the priest brining his flock back up out of the trance via a slow countdown, using a device to release a clear white mist into the room that scrubbed the air of the blue smoke and slowly turning down the anti-grav. The congregation drifted slowly back down to the floor and landed with varying degrees of grace. There was a small period of general mingaling afterwards during which most people drifted out of the temple. A handful stayed longer, wanting to talk either with each other or Vemt himself, but after a few minutes they too filtered out.

And then she walked through my door. She was a Forensakai woman in early adulthood wearing a dark green Abolla that mostly hid the flight suit she had on underneath it. She was also trying to hid some kind of injury, 2 of her 4 hands pressed against her side covering a small patch of blood anyone not examining her closely wouldn't have noticed. Perhaps staggered was a better description of how she came in, because she gave up hiding the state she was in once the door slammed shut behind her and I was the only person who could see her. Hands freed from her side she fell into my arms when i rushed to her aid”

“Senfont? Is that you? Thank the Anchor” she muttered, her voice slurred and wracked with pain at the same time.

Senfont. It was a surprise to hear someone actually familiar with the name of the man I had been sent here to replace. He’d been the first official priest this little town had had in years, he had apparently been instrumental in getting them one, and yet from what I’d gotten out of the locals he seems to have been an entirely absent figure from their community. He’d never introduced himself let alone held mass, that had been left to a local untrained preacher who had been doing improvised sessions for decades and who a lot of the populace still seem to prefer despite my arrival, yet had sent glowing reports of his positive effect on the community. Reports that the pencil pusher that sent me out here was still receiving by the way. Here then, completely out of the blue, was my first real link to that traitor and she was rapidly fading in my arms.

“Stay with me ok. Keep talking, tell me what happened while I try and help you” The priest used his long serpentine tail to support the woman as he used a small wrist mounted device to send a message to the only doctor the town had, asking for help.

“I. We were attacked. Damned snakes.” she managed ever so slowly

“Where? Here? Are we in danger?”

“No. no. got away. In the ship. Its safe.”

“Good. I’m going to help you with the wound. Where’s the ship?”

She was slipping away from me, must have used all her strength just to get here and now that strain was rapidly catching up with her

Vempt pulled the cloake aside revealing the flight suit beneath, which at her left side had been shredded by some kind of flechet weapon, creating a gruesome mess of cloth, carapace, and flesh through which she was losing blood. fast. As the priest futility tried to press the woman's cloak against the wound to stem the flow she managed a last “Dock. Hanger. 12.” before losing consciousness. The resident doctor arrived moments later, having been one of those attending the earlier session.




Vemt entered the back of the temple, his hands still covered in the woman’s blood. The doctor, an aged Lonoxi Queen who had had her long since had her pheromone glands removed, was taking care of her as best she could but was unsure if she would recover. There's nothing more I can do for her, so I’ll need to follow up on what little she had given me while I waited to see if she would recover. I’d managed to get a look at her her personal effects and they had been telling: A small wrist communicator, locked by voice id. A series of wallets containing numerous, presumably fake, ids and a variety of currencies and battering chips including a number of microprocessors, compressed gold and vials of panacea. A force-knife and gauss pistol with a variety of munitions. She was, by my bet, some kind of smuggler or mercenary who made illegal trips to areas of the empire currently not under our control, and my predecessor had something to do with that, though what exactly I didn't know. The answer lay in the ship no doubt

The rear of the temple had more in familiar with a police station than it had with the depths of a temple. The drab dull space housed, among other things, a dedicated interrogation room, a weapons rack housing Pilums: short spear like weapons who’s two pronged blades were enhanced with force fields that let them stab or cut through near anything and could also fire lasers from a lense located between them, a selection of less lethal weapons and restraining devices, an attached garage housing an armored car mounted with a siren and painted in inquisitional colours, a small number of spy drones and a old fashioned billboard that had Vemt’s limited knowledge about Senfont pinned all over it. At the far end where a number of holding cells that had been blessedly empty upon his arrival, but now held one occupant. His ‘partner’ who had been secured safely behind the steel door, their only access to the outside world a small barred window. From within the armored chamber came a voice sounding like a low predatory growl tinged with iron. “Blood. Yours? No. Wrong kind. Hmmm. Wasp. Female. Your first kill?” The monster asked, its inflection making it clear that it believed such an event was well overdue.

“No. Someone who was shot. Smuggler probably. Might not recover” the beast moved like lightning inside its holding cell, armored talons grabbing at the bars of the tiny window as the beast pushed the visord dome covering the top of its head to the small gap, its six eyes barely visible below it. “Hunt”

Vemt took a few seconds to catch their breath. Both he and his serpents had recoiled in fear when the predator had surged forwards. Their natural predator, one enhanced with alloys and artificial sinew to the designs of some long dead mad genius. A Rekshai. Anchor damn whichever clerk had decided I needed this things’s assistance.

“You will be staying here. You’ll only scare the people here and it's been difficult enough getting them on side without having a monster following me around”

“Death. Danger. Protocall demands I go” the beast told him matter of factly.

“Protocol be damned, I have evidence there’s no threat here. I am ordering you to stay here” He turned to wash the blood from his hands, the matter, in his mind, settled.

“Have higher orders. To protect you”

“Good luck fulfilling those orders inside that...” there was a hideous screeching of metal on metal interspersed by 3 metallic clunks and followed by the sound of the door unlocking. The beast pushed the door open, some of the bars on its window having been severed so that the Rekshai could reach through and down to unlock the door“...Cell”

The creature, designated REK 0001 6613 7906, was a two meter tall bipedal monster coated from head to toe in unremovable metal armor that had been painted a sharp regal blue, the color of the inquisition. Its head was mostly hidden by a helmet that left only the creatures mouth, a voracious maw filled with razor sharp teeth, tuly exposed while keeping the rest of its visage hidden beneath a cloudy visor. Running along its back where a number of long scythe blade like spines that it could used to communicate with members of its pack. Behind it was a long prehensile tale that undulate lazily, maintaining the creatures balance as it walked with an almost raptor like gait. It’s fingers and toes all ended with the claws it had cut its way out of the cell with, each as deadly as a Pilum’s blade. The freed monster stalked past the horrified priest and picked Pilums from the wall rack, tossing one at Vemt which the Sethhanide just barely caught in his fumbling bloody hands.

“Lead the hunt holy one.”

Well then. this is one cobra that's not going back in the jar any time soon. Just my luck.


Captain Piper

Level: 2
day/time: day 3 - night
Location: Skyrim-Stormcloak Camp
Word count: 1041
Interacting with: @Zarkun, @Holy Soldier, @Mattchstick, @Lugubrious


“This all sounds good to me so far”

Piper hated to admit it, but she was with the boss when it came to being impressed by Ruben, though she wasn’t going to go around backhanding him like the Boss was. How immature the Boss himself was made the continued patronisation double infuriating. Ruben also seemed like he might have a better grasp of large scale combat than she at least did, presumably that came with the territory of still being in the military. Piper still really hadn't managed to wrap her head around the concept that there where going to be, at the very least, one hundred and eighty seven fighters in the upcoming battle. It was, in her opinion, a ludicrous and unfathomable number of people to try and coordinate in a mission. Up in space you would never even be able to fit that many people on a single ship or station, let alone have them fight in anything looking like a battle where tactics and positioning would be playing a pivotal role. Instead she had more or less ignored the vastly bloated number of combatants during the planning, thinking of this as just another plan for a small scale highest with her crew that just so happened to have some big numbers haphazardly pinned onto each member’s role. This plan for stealthily securing first the gate and then the central guard tower however was something far more up her alley, a good old fashioned heist with sneaking, taking the enemy by surprise and involving only a small team and a clear objective. It was as a result something of a shame the boss pounced on it first as, on top of her preference for that scale of operation, the tower could also have have made a good sniper's perch, though she supposed there was nothing stopping her from taking it later in the battle. Still, just because she disappointed that she wasn't going to be taking point it did not mean she wouldn't offer her assistance in another manner.

“I could take a concealed sniper position to cover the gate stealth operation if you like, so that when… if something goes wrong with it I can provide some marksbotship for your gang Boss. Same goes for the tower assault if it doesn't interfere with our push for the mine. Might be able to find a spot where I can cover both? We’ll see when we get a proper look at the place for ourselves tomorrow.”

At a certain point it became clear that discussion was over and the humans, after a bit of scrounging about for supplies, began what piper assumed was what they did to refuse themselves, a process she attempted to avoid staring at in repulsed fascination because of how unpleasantly squishy and wet it was. Instead she saw to the refueling of her boiler, a process which ended up involving melting some snow in a pot over the wood fire to avoid using the humans drinking water, teaching a curiose stormcloak how a steam engine worked and in return rediscovering the production of charcoal as a fuel source for Steambot kind and learning what the Dwarves were, or rather, had been. The tales of the ancients race’s advanced civilisation, the remains of which could be supposedly found buried in the earth reminded her of similar tales of ruins that had existed deep within steamworld before it exploded, though with a lot less toxic waste lying around and with a seemingly equal amount of ancient aggressive bots stomping around, though fortunately the ones here where were not collectively lead by a hostile xenophobic AI mastermind. After she had laid the groundwork for a future Nord led industrial revolution she drank the melted snow to fill up her water tank and briefly opened up the hatch on her chest leading to her furnace, directly fueling the fire raging at her core with some freshly prepared charcoal. She then settled down to clean, oil and polish both herself and her guns to keep the machinery in tip top condition, during which the humans settled down into some kind of low power mode that she assumed was this “sleep” thing Ulfric had mentioned. It was apparently one one that they were easily roused, much to their displeasure, by her making any loud noises as she tried to do some additional solo planning using the crude map. Boredom from the lack of company and the human’s complaining quickly drove her to leave them to it.

Stepping out of the tent she happened to glance up, only to be struck by pangs of homesickness, for above the strange blue sky had been replaced by a sea of alien stars swimming around an uncannily familiar moon. She wondered what nightmares might lurk behind that great gleaming silver orb. Perhaps it was where the dwarves had disappeared to. Despite the fact that her kind had lived, and one day might again live, on a world like this, up among the stars was where Piper felt she belonged. Up there was where her people were, or rather felt like they were, while she was stuck down here with the humans who where, it seemed, all asleep, leaving her without company or distraction to pass the long night. Wondering the perimeter of the camp however yielded unexpected signs of life as she stumbled into the poor sods stuck with nightwatch duty. It was with them she spent most of the night, bonding with a series of watchmen and women as they all took turns in safeguarding the camp from the possibility of night attacks by forsworn or the monstrous things supposedly lurking out there in the dark woods. She took the opportunity to give some, non ammo expending, night lessons in the use of the captured laser weapons, such as which end was the shooty end, what a safety was and how you reloaded them. While it could not compare to the company of a gang of close companions like those she had aboard her ship back home, chatting with and getting to know some of the people she would be fighting alongside when dawn comae was a pleasant enough way to pass the time.

note that this sheet exists primarily for historical context. The summaries of it's successor states will come later.


moved
The Zuukid Empire




Taric

level: 2
day/time: 3 - evening
Location: the streets of platform city
Interacting with: @ONL, @Guardian Angel Haruki, @Zarkun, @Majoras End
Cooldowns:
Bastion: 2/2. linked ally: none
Starlight's Touch: 0/6


Taric was not built for speed. In the end even the turtle overtook him using his surprisingly quick wheelchair to reach speeds that could give ramus a run, or rather roll, for his money. Had Taric been a different man he could have found this irritating, but then again, as he hadn't bought boots yet being outpaced wasn't really that surprising. The fabulous support hero merely had a brief cuckle to himself at the continued absurdity of what an odd situation he had ended up in and then kept on running. As a result of his lack of speed Taric only caught the tail end of the situation around the interception of hunter, just managing to here James’ instructions.

”No break for me then. Onwards to the castle!” he shouted goodnaturedly as he approached the group, only to keep up the pace and continue is jog towards the castle, inside of which Naija was having a minor panic attack.


Naija

level: 5
day/time: day 3
Location: Tetris Castle
Interacting with: @Holy Soldier


oh nononononononono. You can't die. I can't lose another one. Niaja half whispered to herself as she tried to administer to the wounded Guile. She was not a doctor. She barely know what a Doctor was. The opportunity to stop the intruders had passed and what little parts of Naija’s mind that weren't in crisis where busy kicking the bits that where for not going to fight instead of floundering around being useless. The soup having failed she tried to use the Tasty cake to heal him, but that did little to help either, the wounds that it sealed shut slicing themselves open as if offended by the very notion that food could fix them, leaving her inventory empty save for the useless keys and strange feather she had looted from the arena wreckage. As she tried to physically hold the man's wounds shut in she glanced around looking for anything that might help, only to be reminded that Morvin Solus was in the room, knocked out in a pile of cables. Naija thought that either he needed or could provide help, but she daren’t leave Guil’s side, so she shouted at the newly arrived pink person whose name she had gotten from guiles attacker, hoping they’d be willing to help.

”Kirby! Wake Dr Solus! Maybe can help Guil? Please hurry!”

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