Drakey
Member
The Best Dragon
STATUS: uuuugggghhhhhh When you can't be on when everyone else you RP with is on.... 7 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 6 yrs ago
- Joined: 7 yrs ago
- Posts: 611 (0.26 / day)
- VMs: 0
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Username history
- Drakey 7 yrs ago
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7 yrs ago
Current
uuuugggghhhhhh When you can't be on when everyone else you RP with is on....
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Most Recent Posts
I'm here, but will be gone till the 3rd of Jan
ok guys,
will be gone until the 3rd of Jan.
Don't leave, just know that I won't be here. Expect great things upon my return!
will be gone until the 3rd of Jan.
Don't leave, just know that I won't be here. Expect great things upon my return!
Hey guys,
I'm going to be gone for a couple weeks. Will be back on the 3rd of Jan.
I'm going to be gone for a couple weeks. Will be back on the 3rd of Jan.
YAY
I won't be able to be on for the next couple of weeks, but after that I would like to join!
I won't be able to be on for the next couple of weeks, but after that I would like to join!
I saw the APPLY sign.
I read the Zeroth.
Went: "HELL YA!"
Character made in my mind and was about to flesh them out.
scrolled down.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I read the Zeroth.
Went: "HELL YA!"
Character made in my mind and was about to flesh them out.
scrolled down.
@Shard Unfortunately this is closed for now.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Date: March 11th, 1861
Time: Early-morning
Location: Outside the City Limits
Mikhail rode within the cockpit of his Foundry Truck. It had taken him quite some time to not only procure the vehicle, but to fix it up as well. Anyways, it drove well now. The clock-powered navigation system was doing a superb job, taking him directly to a silver vein that he had stumbled upon a few weeks ago. Leaving the cockpit, Mikhail passed through the hall that ran down the length of the truck. In the back were its boilers, which heated the foundries on either side. Right in front of the foundries sat the processing rooms, which was where his spiders brought any and all materials that they managed to procure.
A butterfly, small and simple, lazily flew past him, its copper wings beating furiously in their clockwork bindings. Several more followed after the first, circling around Mikhail. Then, after landing softly on his shoulders, Mikhail took them one by one and wound their springs back up. The butterflies then flew back into the air, their flight now precise and exact. Smiling to himself, Mikhail let one of them land on his mechanical arm. Pulling his goggles down with his free hand, he studied the small machine in his grasp. There were several light scratches on its wings. Not enough to affect its flight, but it was something that would have to be fixed eventually.
Letting the butterfly leave his hand, Mikhail stepped over one of his spiders. They were usually walking on the walls or the ceiling, but sometimes they would travel along the floor. This one in particular was outfitted for maintenance. Such as cleaning and rust removal, things like that. Now the next to rooms, in front of the processing rooms but behind the cockpit, were his research center and his living quarters. Relatively small, his living quarters only took up a small portion of one of the rooms. The rest of the room along with the room opposite the hall were filled with pieces of machinery and future projects.
Then, at the very front of the truck was the cockpit. Nothing much, it held a steering wheel and the dials for the engine. Usually manned by two or more of his spiders, Mikhail actually enjoyed driving the vehicle around. Now underneath the cockpit and the rest of the truck’s body were the hangars. Now these were hardly full, but they held Mikhail’s full company of spiders, which was twenty in total.
Sighing to himself, Mikhail suddenly hit the wall to his left. The entire truck tipped over, and then rocked back into its upright position. His eyes opened wide, Mikhail took a moment to get his bearings. Gritting his teeth, the man ran into his living quarters. There, leaning against the far wall was a rifle. Grabbing it in his hurry, Mikhail was clad in brown pants and boots, a white button up shirt covered his chest and arms, which was in turn covered up by a brown vest. Slinging a bandolier with bullets over his shoulder, Mikhail ran to the truck’s top hatch. On his way he began to order his butterflies and spiders.
“Alright! Execute code 95! We are under attack! Execute code 95!” Immediately, in response to his words, the hangars opened up underneath the cockpit. Immediately, 15 spiders crawled out from the truck’s mouth. Their metal legs clicking against the metal floor, walls, and ceiling of the hangars. As Mikhail twisted the hatch open and thrust the door up, he poked his head up. A large beast, like a lizard and nearly half the size of his truck, was standing there. Thankfully, its focus was completely on the spiders down below.
His butterflies flew up through the hatch as well and began to circle around the beast. Their eyes now opened and recording. Their signals travelled through the air, received by his goggles. All of a sudden, Mikhail could see what they saw along with what he saw. Their views had already been sorted on his vision, as such he could see the beast just fine. “Damnit, it’s a fucking Sand Viper.”
Pulling his rifle up through the hatch, Mikhail steadied it against the top of the truck. Taking aim, he wanted to shoot the beast anywhere in its head. Then, pulling the trigger, the bullet went flying towards the beast, passing right over its nose. Mikhail cursed as he loaded another bullet, cursing himself even more when the Sand Viper turned its attention to him. “Code 43!” He shouted. Immediately, the butterfly that had stayed with him relayed the order to all his other machines. “Code 24!” The truck began to move again, this time circling the Sand Viper and the spiders. The spiders moved as well. Like one metallic wave they surged against the beast, cutting away at its ankles and climbing up its back. Several of them got hit by the club on its tail as another got caught in its mouth.
Taking a deep breath, Mikhail aimed at the beast again. However, when he pulled the trigger this time the discharged bullet made contact. The piece of metal gouged into the beast’s cheek. Making it howl in pain and focus itself on Mikhail again. Releasing his breath, Mikhail shouted, “Code 2!” Then the spiders attacked. The Sand Viper, distracted and following Mikhail’s movement as he circled the beast, did not stand a chance. Immediately the spiders surged up at the beast’s hardly protected stomach. Ripping and tearing, viscera and blood splattered against the ground. His once coppery spiders were now covered in blood and gore.
Screaming the Sand Viper thrashed around, but it was already too late. The spiders were inside the beast now, ripping and tearing away. Eventually they reached its heart, and with a cold shudder, the Sand Viper slumped to the ground. Leaning back against his own truck, Mikhail sat there, confused. The battle was easy, too easy. Not only that, but the Sand Viper had been dangerously close to the city. This was strange, but Mikhail certainly wasn’t going to report it. If he did that, then the authorities would discover his little silver mine. Getting up, he slung the rifle over his shoulder and called out. “Code 99! Code 100!” The spiders began to crawl back out of the beast’s stomach. Several of them grabbed their injured comrades and brought them back into the hangars.
The rest began to dismantle the Viper’s body. They started at its head, separating it from the rest of the body, then they made a slit all the way down the throat to the tip of the tail. Moving quickly and efficiently, they removed the teeth from the jaws and the scaled skin from its flesh. Laying it out to dry, they returned to the corpse. Cutting away at chunks of meat, they stored them away in a cold room that was on the same level as the hangars. Then they removed the bones, and after cleaning them off, stored them within the hangars. Awaiting the skin to dry, the spiders began to dig a hole. Once it had reached a satisfactory depth, they emptied the unusable remains into the pit. Thankfully, the hide was dry by the time they finished filling the hole back in. Then they stored the hide in the hangars as well.
Sighing, Mikhail watched as his spiders stored themselves back in the hangars. Climbing back into his truck, the butterflies following him, Mikhail made sure to secure the hatch. Making his way to the cockpit, the man punched the coordinates for the silver vein back in. Grumbling, he went into his workshop. There were spiders that needed to be fixed. Damn, that fight had taken several hours.
Time: Early-morning
Location: Outside the City Limits
Mikhail rode within the cockpit of his Foundry Truck. It had taken him quite some time to not only procure the vehicle, but to fix it up as well. Anyways, it drove well now. The clock-powered navigation system was doing a superb job, taking him directly to a silver vein that he had stumbled upon a few weeks ago. Leaving the cockpit, Mikhail passed through the hall that ran down the length of the truck. In the back were its boilers, which heated the foundries on either side. Right in front of the foundries sat the processing rooms, which was where his spiders brought any and all materials that they managed to procure.
A butterfly, small and simple, lazily flew past him, its copper wings beating furiously in their clockwork bindings. Several more followed after the first, circling around Mikhail. Then, after landing softly on his shoulders, Mikhail took them one by one and wound their springs back up. The butterflies then flew back into the air, their flight now precise and exact. Smiling to himself, Mikhail let one of them land on his mechanical arm. Pulling his goggles down with his free hand, he studied the small machine in his grasp. There were several light scratches on its wings. Not enough to affect its flight, but it was something that would have to be fixed eventually.
Letting the butterfly leave his hand, Mikhail stepped over one of his spiders. They were usually walking on the walls or the ceiling, but sometimes they would travel along the floor. This one in particular was outfitted for maintenance. Such as cleaning and rust removal, things like that. Now the next to rooms, in front of the processing rooms but behind the cockpit, were his research center and his living quarters. Relatively small, his living quarters only took up a small portion of one of the rooms. The rest of the room along with the room opposite the hall were filled with pieces of machinery and future projects.
Then, at the very front of the truck was the cockpit. Nothing much, it held a steering wheel and the dials for the engine. Usually manned by two or more of his spiders, Mikhail actually enjoyed driving the vehicle around. Now underneath the cockpit and the rest of the truck’s body were the hangars. Now these were hardly full, but they held Mikhail’s full company of spiders, which was twenty in total.
Sighing to himself, Mikhail suddenly hit the wall to his left. The entire truck tipped over, and then rocked back into its upright position. His eyes opened wide, Mikhail took a moment to get his bearings. Gritting his teeth, the man ran into his living quarters. There, leaning against the far wall was a rifle. Grabbing it in his hurry, Mikhail was clad in brown pants and boots, a white button up shirt covered his chest and arms, which was in turn covered up by a brown vest. Slinging a bandolier with bullets over his shoulder, Mikhail ran to the truck’s top hatch. On his way he began to order his butterflies and spiders.
“Alright! Execute code 95! We are under attack! Execute code 95!” Immediately, in response to his words, the hangars opened up underneath the cockpit. Immediately, 15 spiders crawled out from the truck’s mouth. Their metal legs clicking against the metal floor, walls, and ceiling of the hangars. As Mikhail twisted the hatch open and thrust the door up, he poked his head up. A large beast, like a lizard and nearly half the size of his truck, was standing there. Thankfully, its focus was completely on the spiders down below.
His butterflies flew up through the hatch as well and began to circle around the beast. Their eyes now opened and recording. Their signals travelled through the air, received by his goggles. All of a sudden, Mikhail could see what they saw along with what he saw. Their views had already been sorted on his vision, as such he could see the beast just fine. “Damnit, it’s a fucking Sand Viper.”
Pulling his rifle up through the hatch, Mikhail steadied it against the top of the truck. Taking aim, he wanted to shoot the beast anywhere in its head. Then, pulling the trigger, the bullet went flying towards the beast, passing right over its nose. Mikhail cursed as he loaded another bullet, cursing himself even more when the Sand Viper turned its attention to him. “Code 43!” He shouted. Immediately, the butterfly that had stayed with him relayed the order to all his other machines. “Code 24!” The truck began to move again, this time circling the Sand Viper and the spiders. The spiders moved as well. Like one metallic wave they surged against the beast, cutting away at its ankles and climbing up its back. Several of them got hit by the club on its tail as another got caught in its mouth.
Taking a deep breath, Mikhail aimed at the beast again. However, when he pulled the trigger this time the discharged bullet made contact. The piece of metal gouged into the beast’s cheek. Making it howl in pain and focus itself on Mikhail again. Releasing his breath, Mikhail shouted, “Code 2!” Then the spiders attacked. The Sand Viper, distracted and following Mikhail’s movement as he circled the beast, did not stand a chance. Immediately the spiders surged up at the beast’s hardly protected stomach. Ripping and tearing, viscera and blood splattered against the ground. His once coppery spiders were now covered in blood and gore.
Screaming the Sand Viper thrashed around, but it was already too late. The spiders were inside the beast now, ripping and tearing away. Eventually they reached its heart, and with a cold shudder, the Sand Viper slumped to the ground. Leaning back against his own truck, Mikhail sat there, confused. The battle was easy, too easy. Not only that, but the Sand Viper had been dangerously close to the city. This was strange, but Mikhail certainly wasn’t going to report it. If he did that, then the authorities would discover his little silver mine. Getting up, he slung the rifle over his shoulder and called out. “Code 99! Code 100!” The spiders began to crawl back out of the beast’s stomach. Several of them grabbed their injured comrades and brought them back into the hangars.
The rest began to dismantle the Viper’s body. They started at its head, separating it from the rest of the body, then they made a slit all the way down the throat to the tip of the tail. Moving quickly and efficiently, they removed the teeth from the jaws and the scaled skin from its flesh. Laying it out to dry, they returned to the corpse. Cutting away at chunks of meat, they stored them away in a cold room that was on the same level as the hangars. Then they removed the bones, and after cleaning them off, stored them within the hangars. Awaiting the skin to dry, the spiders began to dig a hole. Once it had reached a satisfactory depth, they emptied the unusable remains into the pit. Thankfully, the hide was dry by the time they finished filling the hole back in. Then they stored the hide in the hangars as well.
Sighing, Mikhail watched as his spiders stored themselves back in the hangars. Climbing back into his truck, the butterflies following him, Mikhail made sure to secure the hatch. Making his way to the cockpit, the man punched the coordinates for the silver vein back in. Grumbling, he went into his workshop. There were spiders that needed to be fixed. Damn, that fight had taken several hours.
Name
Mikhail Falkher
Gender
Male
Age
22
Birth Place
Small time town in Michigan
Role/Occupation
Mechanic/inventor/mercenary/novice smith
Appearance
Boast about how ugly you are.
Equipment/Inventory
Poor as fudge! Mikhail has next to no money as he spends all the money he gets on materials for his weapons/stuff. Though, he does have a prosthetic arm that has replaced his right arm. He wears green tinted goggles, a long swallowtail trenchcoat, a brown vest with black leggings.
Strengths
Well….Mikhail is mostly shit in combat. However, he is a boss with a sniper rifle. Though, what keeps him alive is his skill with machines. So far, Mikhail has been able to develop several butterflies, for a total of five, and has at his disposal 20 spiders. His mode of transportation is akin to a segmented tank.
Weaknesses
Priorities. Mikhail is really bad with his priorities, often times putting some machinery or resources above his own life or even another’s life. He also can't shoot a pistol worth crap. Mikhail is probably the only human being that can miss his target with a shotgun.
Personality
Mikhail is a very bubble person when he's talking about either machines or materials. However, if one was to ask him about money, Mikhail's mood would plummet. He often doesn't realize that something potentially dangerous is nearby, unless he is looking for it, that is.
Essay is a WIP, will be updated throughout the RP.
Background
Mikhail was a nobody. Only a small time tinkerer in a small time town.Mikhail used to dream of the days that he could truly spread his wings. Now, with Agartha, those dreams may very well be a reality. Mikhail has been tinkering since he was born, always the inquisitive sort, he continuously astonished his parents. However, Mikhail’s ingenious came at a cost. He was unable to truly connect with his peers, often alone and with his machines.
When he was fifteen, Mikhail perfected the first of his spiders. Each of which are a foot in diameter and about six inches tall, though they can be a foot tall when they bring their legs together. They have been outfitted with the tools for dismantling and construction. Though five of them were built for the express purpose of gaining materials and processing them.
When he was 18 Mikhail developed the first of his butterflies. They are about ten inches wide, a few inches tall. Mikhail was able to create a frequency distributer between the butterflies and his goggles, as such, if Mikhail chooses, he can see through his butterfly’s eyes. Mikhail has been able to develop five of them.
When he was twenty, Mikhail got into an automobile accident, taking his right arm from him. As such, he was forced to create his own replacement arm, as he was unsatisfied with the options he was given. His new arm, while not any stronger than the original, has an assortment of tools in the forearm.
When he first travelled down to Agartha, Mikhail had just enough money to purchase an old, broken down foundry truck. After spending nearly month fixing it up, Mikhail is finally ready to set out on his own, or with others as the case might be.
Arm:
Clothing:
Goggles:
Tools:
Weapon:
Vehicle:
Current Project:
YAY!!! I was so sad, thought this RP had died...
You mean a continual, gradual drain on the occupants of the Karamzina? Provided its marginally less than the occupants' natural ether regrowth, that sounds great at well. And also pretty revolutionary, for lack of a needle and specific extraction time.
No, not on the inhabitants of the Karamzina, but that does sound like a revolutionary way to deal with Omestrian slaves.
No, I am talking about the God Omestris. He is linked to his people through there ether, correct? Just like every other god. So, whose to say, that it isn't entirely impossible to forcibly drain power from the God by using a specialized Ether circuit. We could say that it works by circulating and condensing Omestrian ether to the point that it starts to mimic the God himself. At this point, the god's body begins to recognize this "fake" as part of itself. As such, when this "fake" starts to draw power, the original body of Omestris readily gives the power to it.
However, this would have to be a process not clearly understood. I would imagine that Varya would order their deaths if they were actively going down this line of development.
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