DruSM157

Gundam 0094 (Invite Only Roleplay)

_{Cathartes Salvage Ship}

The old man sat in his captain’s chair, eyeing up the bridge crew. Remia was busy studying monitors, while Kellen seemed overly focused on navigating. It was obvious that there was tension in the air; everyone was just waiting for these pirates to return and attack them next. Cornell expected that, but to send out every available pilot to guard the Cathartes would only exhaust them by the time the enemy finally reached them.

“Sir.” Spare Infield walked into the bridge, nodding at Cornell. At the very least, he was being respectful. ”I thought I’d do my best to give you whatever information I had on the attack.

Cornell nodded. ”Any help would be appreciated.”

Infield nodded. ”The enemy attacked quickly and disabled our ship. They didn’t give us a chance to fight back, and the few mobile suits that were able to launch were destroyed in minutes. If it wasn’t for the Zeon transport and the pilot that kept them pinned for the fight, we’d probably all be dead.”

Cornell nodded. ”I think we should talk to this hero pilot. Remia, go ahead and find out where he’s hiding out and get him brought to the bridge.”

***

”Hey, Mr. Hotshot pilot.” The female engineer shook the cot that Bareback was sleeping on. ”The captain’s asked to talk to you on the bridge. Wants to know about those suits you were fighting.” She wrinkled her nose. ”Maybe you could...also clean off first? You smell awful.

---

Marlowe listened intently to everyone arguing about exactly what to do about fighting. He thought about it for a moment, wishing he could help in some way. But his grandfather refused to let him pilot in combat. It didn’t help that even in the piloting sims, he refused to go for any actual killing blows.

”You’re too soft boy. If I let you pilot in a fight, you’d be killed in two seconds. The old man’s words rang in his ears constantly. Why should his friends fight and risk their lives while all he could do was stand around and hope for the best? It just wasn’t fair.

”I know everyone has an opinion on what we should do about the enemy, but I think we should just be ready for when they come back. Because something tells me they are coming back.” He knew it, somehow. As if he could see the tiny dots far in the eternal blackness of space, making their way towards the Cathartes as everyone argued.

Paranormal and Occult Investigation

<Snipped quote by DruSM157>

If I need to I'll make a second team but a max number of eight players I think. Two teams of four.

An FBU agent, but basically yes. Your character would have been recruited if one of the following critera was met:

[1] They are safely anomalous and deemed too valuable by the Bureau to not utilize,
[2] They have encountered an anomalous event and have proven extreme valor in that event,
[3] Or have been in law enforcement at any level with distinguished career and have little to no meaningful relationships in their life. This means you aren't married, have children, etc. As the nature of this work requires secrecy, it is easier to promote individuals who don't have intimate connections.

@Pirouette

Perfect, I have a character in mind that fits criteria 2. Wunderbar!

Paranormal and Occult Investigation

So what's the head-count for the team? I see it's a small-group RP.

Also, does every character an FBI agent? Just trying to get my head around a character for this one.

Paranormal and Occult Investigation

WELP.



Let's make this bread.

Pariah Online: A Voyage into the Intangible Aether

Location: The Laughing Warg Tavern-- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Benkei watched as others left the tavern, one after another, and suddenly felt very alone. Sure there were other wayfarers, other denizens, and such clamoring about, but Benkei was worried. There was a sense of dread filling the air, the stress and fear at the question no one wanted to ask:

When were they going home? When would they hear from the moderators? Were they being left behind?

Benkei sighed and stood up, gathering his things. He noticed Sif sitting alone, Sig must have still run off, and he walked over to her. “Hey,” he said to her, “Do you want to get out of here for a little bit? I think if I sit around here anymore, I’ll either go insane or explode from Dariel’s flat cakes. I need to check with the blacksmith about fixing some of my armor, and I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Gundam 0094 (Invite Only Roleplay)

_{Olympia City, MARS NOW Offices}

”Councilman, the representative from Delgriz Corporation in Riah is on the line.

Barrick Torres smiled at the news. Not that he never had a reason not to smile. Everything always went his way. He was the youngest Mars Councilman in the planet’s short history, he was leading the biggest radical movement the planet had ever seen, and fairly soon, he would place himself squarely in the center of history in the Universal Century. With his guidance, Mars would become an important player in the universe, and both the Federation, the Colonies, and Jupiter would see how useful the red planet truly was. ”That’s excellent Ms. Gilman. I’ll take the call in here.”

Laser-link communication was difficult with the number of asteroids moved between the belt and Earthside. He knew he’d only have a few minutes to press the weasels on the colonies, but he’d do it easily. The pressure from ARES in the area had everyone worried about Mars Space, and with the Jupiter Fleet now being targeted, questions were raised on if a safe supply chain could be made. After all, the closest military base to Mars was Luna II, and even then there was no guarantee supply ships could make the trip unescorted.

But if the Mars Defense Force had access to better Mobile Suits, better weapons, and a stronger foothold in the sector, they could strengthen security in the region. It was simple logistics, after all. Most of the mobile weapons on Mars were ancient, dating back to the 80s. Or they had refurbished models from recent conflicts, repurposed, and barely any tactical use in combat.

They needed real weapons. The kinds that several of his colleagues had brought during their Mars emigration after the Gryps Conflict and the Neo Zeon wars. And once the Earth Sphere weakened…

Barrick grabbed his receiver, and spoke quickly, concisely, and with a sharp wit. He’d cornered men like then countless times. And he’d corner hundreds more before he was done. All he needed now were the tools.

---

_{Salvage Area, Cathartes}

Marlowe smiled and nodded along with everything Disker said to him and the group. Disker had always remained quiet about himself and his past, and Marlowe was never someone rude enough to start digging for answers about people. It’s why he had barely any knowledge of most of the crew’s histories. He knew that they’d open up when they were ready, and he was always willing to listen to new stories of the places people had been and people they’d met. He’d extended the same respect to Gaida, Ezmy, and Leon. They’d all come to the crew with different skills and mobile suits, and he knew they all had their reasons for joining a crew like the Cathartes.

Even he had his own reasons, beyond his grandfather running the entire operation. As others approached, he gave a friendly nod to everyone. Ezmy, and then Leon appeared. Disker invited them along, which was always a joy for Marlowe. Being around others made him feel better, even being around Ezmy, though when he was alone in a room with her, he felt something just being around her. Nothing hormonal, but...something he just couldn’t quite get. Like a fuzzy, lost memory hidden behind something that needed to be jostled out of place. He assumed that he’d know exactly what it meant, in time.

As the group entered salvage, Marlowe spied a man in a Federation uniform talking to one of the engineers. When Disker asked, "Did any of you get a good look on what caused this?" he knew he’d only seen the readings from the assailant’s verniers in the distance.

”They moved fast, that’s about all I could tell,” he noted, then eyed the Federation soldier and waved him over. ”Excuse me, do you remember anything about the people that attacked you?

”Yeah,” the man grumbled. “They were piloting these souped-up mobile suits that looked like a Marasai. I’d seen one, a mothballed unit from the Gryps Conflict on display on Earth. But these didn’t work like the mobile suits I'd read about. These struck fast and their weapons tore our ship apart in a matter of minutes. If that Zeon Freighter hadn’t come along and took the next round of fire, I think we’d have all died then and there.”

Marlowe listened and wondered why the name Marasai felt so familiar. Another distant thought crept into the back of his head and then disappeared. He looked to the others, Disker, Gaia, Ezmy, and Leon, to see if they had their own take about the information.

In This Fine Town Of Arkham - A Lovecraftian Mystery

Apologies for the silence and lack of post from me in a week. It's been very hectic with teaching and family matters, but now that I've reach spring break I plan on posting more.

In This Fine Town Of Arkham - A Lovecraftian Mystery

Alvin focused on the rocking of the carriage and the sound of hoofbeats as they traveled towards the manor. His mind was already anxious, constantly going over exactly what he needed. It wasn’t as if he was used to these kinds of things, but instead, he’d felt as if an invisible force was pushing him forward, pushing him towards Wilde Hall. Pushing him like-

It was the cold that had awoken his senses more than anything else. The cold feeling of saltwater encompassing him, and drawing him deeper into its darkness. The small fishing boat above was already turning murky in his vision, and the only thing below was-

DARKNESS. THE COLOR OF PITCH BLACK NIGHT, ONLY BELOW YOU INSTEAD OF ABOVE. NO STARS TO GUIDE YOU HOME, ONLY PITCH DARKNESS BELOW TO DRAG YOU FARTHER INTO THE ABYSS AND-

Arms hoisted his thin frame up, dragging him from the encroaching black towards the hazy gray light of the sky. Towards the boat, and towards safety. But as he was pulled upwards from the depths, he swore he saw something…

EYES.

Alvin shook himself back to reality, out of memory, and back to the reality of the coach with his mismatched companions. He looked even paler after that...lapse...in concentration. Sweat beaded upon his brow. How many years ago had that memory been now? More than ten, at least, and still he felt constantly hounded by the memory of the boat trip. But even worse, that feeling of dread and absolute horror was building in the bottom of his stomach, something he hadn’t felt since he stared into the black expanse.

“Apologies,” Alvin muttered, taking a handkerchief from his coat pocket and dabbing his brow. “I seem to have lost myself in thought…”

In This Fine Town Of Arkham - A Lovecraftian Mystery

"Why, thank you, Al-Oh, I mean, Mister Cobalt."

Alvin peered at the young woman from behind his mask's eyes. She knows me. Her playful giggle and coquettish nature hinted at her youth; meaning she was most likely a classmate of his. He didn't recognize her from any of his upper-level linguistics and ancient language classes; those were smaller and entirely male. Perhaps from one of the science courses, he was completing? He dredged his mind for a moment, trying to picture every pretty face he was too shy to spend more than a moment's glance staring at.

Perhaps...

What would Lancaster do? One of his closest friends, an anthropology student and drama aficionado who tended to walk around with a local girl on each arm every Friday night at the local bar. He was a silver-tongued devil, and also the impetus on which his mission began. It was Lancaster's roommate, another friend of theirs, who'd been invited to Wilde Hall, after all. But instead of Lancaster, the man whose dramatis personae was always the hero, it was up to the spindly Alvin to uncover the truth.

No, old Lancaster seemed...uncomfortable with the plan. "Stay away from that place, old boy," he'd muttered to Alvin in private. "You know I'm not one for old folk tales like you and Professor Wilmarth, but something about those kinds of folks feels...off."

And yet, Alvin had pressed on and found himself in the carriage with a young woman and a giant man. He didn't have the sheer charisma to simply whisk this beauty away off her feet, and the presence of the intimidating man alongside them killed any fanciful notions of the sort. However, she was acting familiar and his hope was that it would give him an ally in a party full of his betters.

Alvin considered Lady Gold's question. "I find masquerades intriguing. The purpose was to obfuscate one's standing and class amongst one another, to allow everyone to engage with one another freely, without any pretenses." Something he could relate to, in a sense. Someone like him would never get to rub shoulders with his betters. "And I've never stepped foot inside of a manor either. I find it quite intimidating."

Gundam 0094 (Invite Only Roleplay)

_{Near the Ares Asteroid}

Several Griffon mobile suits floated around a refuelling station attached to a large asteroid; though a better name for it would be something akin to a small colony. Mobile suits floated around the superstructure, as did various vessels moving in and out. Fuel, ammunition, supplies. Everything was being gathered at this point, ready to perform something incredible. The small squad of Griffons that had attacked the cargo vessels were busy refuelling, and the squad’s leader seemed preoccupied speaking with his own commander.

“So, you came back empty handed?” The voice inside the pilot’s cockpit was dark, masculine and calm. But there was an undertone of disappointment from the voice. “Why?”

“We were getting low on fuel and a new ship and mobile suits appeared. We decided it would be best to regroup and-”

“And lead them back to our location?”
“No sir, we weren’t followed. They seemed more concerned with the wreckage than us.”

“Once you refuel, you need to double back and take care of that new ship. There’s no need for survivors at this point. We’re almost ready to move into the final stages of Commander Brinz’s plan.”

“Yes, Lieutenant Odo.”

“Remember, these small sparks of conflict will fan the flames, and end the wretched story of all those who cling to the sight of earth.”

The pilot responded in the affirmative, but the idea of Commander Brinz’s plan was...well, it bordered on insanity. Man of the pilots in ARES had some reason to hate the Federation, and others had reason to hate the weak politics of the colonies, but the concept of Brinz’s plan scared many of the pilots who still had some tinges of loyalty to their old home. None of them ever had a reason to return, but to burn the bridge in this way…

“Sir! We’ve finished refuelling.”

“Alright, let’s head out! No more playing it safe. They all think that the worst is behind them, let’s really ruin their day!”

---

Marlowe walked through the halls of the Cathartes cradling something in his arms. He’d picked it up along with the rest of the salvage from the two destroyed vessels, though he was unsure exactly what it was or who it belonged to. It looked almost cartoonish, a heavy round sphere with two eyes, and little flaps on the sides. It was cute, like a child’s toy. Who was the child, though? There were no children of families in the group of survivors they’d rounded up. Was the owner of this little thing lost out in the debris field? The idea made him shudder, and he wondered exactly who would do such a thing to such lightly defended freighters.

How many years ago would he have played with something like this? Probably no more than seven or eight years probably. So how old had the owner been? His head began to hurt, another problem of his constant over thinking. He’d decided to skip his grandfather’s “welcome” address to the survivors. He knew that there would be a sense of animosity and annoyance from these interlopers, after all, they didn’t belong on the Cathartes. The vessel was home to outcasts, misfits and those that lived on the fringes of society, not to honest working people like those in the freighter. Still, Marlowe was excited, because new people meant new stories to hear. What was going on back towards Earth?

He noticed Disker Issacs leaving the “mess hall”, and stepped up his pace to approach him, before he nearly collided into one Gaida; apparently leaving the briefing as well, ”Oh! Excuse me, Miss Gaida,” he said with a hint of deference; another tick of his that tended to annoy many of his fellow pilots. He referred to everyone as “Miss” or “Mister” regardless of how few years separated them. The only two he didn’t give the honorifics to were his grandfather, who he simply called “grandad” and to Ezmy, who simply was referred to by her own name.

He waved to Disker, cradling the green sphere against his chest. “Mister Disker! Can I talk to you for a moment?” He motioned to the green toy in his arms. ”I found this during the salvage run,” he began, ”And I wanted to know if you’d be able to repair it.” He’d learned early on not to badger Irma with things of this nature, especially when there was actual salvage going on. Around her, he risked getting smacked in the head with a wrench. Disker was at the very least an affable sort, and less likely to cause grievous harm to Marlowe.

---

”Well, if there are no questions, the crew will help you settle into your quarters. You’ll be using the extra bunks towards the central hub of the ship. It’ll be cramped, and usually uncomfortable, but it’s better than floating in space.” With that, many of the survivors shuffled around, some out, following Kellen as he led them to the bunks, others mumbled and talked amongst themselves. But one person approached Cornell, an older man wearing a Federation uniform.

”Sir, I’d just like to thank you for assisting these people,” the man said, extended a hand. ”I’m Lieutenant Commander Spare Infield, from the EFSF.”

”You’re welcome. But my suggestion is to relax the military attitude around here,” Cornell noted, giving a knowing wink to Ezmy as she scowled in the corner. ”My ship welcomes all people who’ve given up their homes. I’d like you to ignore any disrespect you’ll probably get if you keep up with the stuffed shirt routine.” The old man was wily, but he was damn honest as well.

”I take it you have issues with the Federation as well?

”I was the head engineer of a little colony named Texas back in the ‘60s, during the big economic bubble in the colonies. Of course, that didn’t last very long, and by the time the 70’s came around, I found myself out of the job until the Yashima company picked up the bill. But when you lot and those Zeons took up war, Texas and all of Loum got brought into it. You know the rest of the story.” Cornell took a small tin of coffee and downed it.

The Federation man stood there in silence, closed his eyes and sighed. ”I understand. I promise that I nor anyone under my command will cause problems on your ship. Just get us to Mars safely.”

”Now that, I can do.” The old man gave the officer a toothy grin.