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@Andromedai Cleaning a ceramic knife after making breakfast, it slipped and opened up my palm deep enough to need eight stitches. Fucking hurt like a bitch.
@Pariah I appreciate your best wishes, and it was mostly my fault. Ceramic knife cleaning after making breakfast went poorly. But hey, toast was still good.

By all means, feel free to work on character ideas! I'll answer the questions in a brief list instead of a wall of text for ease of reading, and its easier to type it out one handed that way.

Characters knowing each other before hand is decided between each person. You can, or can't, up to all of you. Everyone will be meeting up at the start, there'll be a starting job, and character decisions will take things away from there.

As far as character restrictions, I'm pretty open minded here. If you are unsure, feel free to PM or mention me here and ask. I'll gladly work with folks to get their characters to work out.

Fair warning, my ability to post will be much slower for the next couple of days. Stitches, eight of em, in my left hand.
So consider my post speed crippled for the next couple of days, eight stitches in my left hand.
So the posting of the OOC will take longer than planned. I just got eight stitches put into the palm of my left hand, which slows my typing speed significantly for the next few days at best.
Jerod Staudinger





Jerod could not say he was surprised that the name was recognized and that he was still either famous or infamous for his fighting manner and being a general problem child. Well, that was not entirely wrong, but it was hardly entirely right either. Such was being the run away, kind of hard to defend one self when they are not present to defend themselves from such unkind words. Keerin's remark on the delinquent noble got her a smile that, if it could project its chill, would have frozen a raging inferno in an eyeblink. Jerod didn't readily take kindly to the moniker of a delinquent noble, considering that he thoroughly cut ties his parents and even his eldest brother, and only cared about his sister as she still owed him a few favors, and had been by and far the least obnoxious. "Why, such kind words my dear. You'll make me blush at this rate."

"Though, much like any proper story, Fame and Infamy are two sides of the same coin. Fascinating to hear that my time as a second for my elder sibling's duels was not forgotten." The sellsword gave what the Crown Prince said due thought, bringing up the very clear concern that he could find himself fighting friends or even family, depending on how things turned out once they arrived in Elibe proper. While he could appreciate the thinking behind the question, it was of little concern. He was a sellsword, he did what he was paid to do. As he would say, even family, all part of selling one's sword arm for a living after all, sometimes jobs got nasty. "Your concern is appreciated Crown Prince, but unnecessary. I'm a sellsword, I do what I am paid to do, including crossing blades with my family. Gods, my brother would relish the chance to try and teach me the error of my ways, though that would likely not go well for him. I fought their duels as their second for a very good reason, after all."

When Merilia asked if he had any friends that could help them in Elibe such the need arise, Jerod cocked his head briefly, chin resting in his hand as he gave the suggestion some thought. Lashiel still owed him several significant favors for duels won on her behalf, and thanks to his mentor, he had made several friends in army of Elibe that wouldn't have cared for the political advantage of distancing from the black sheep of the Stuadinger family. He gave her an appropriate answer, considering he would have to follow up on a great deal upon his return to confirm those friends still existed after all. "Besides the favors owed to me by my sister for the duels won at her behest? My mentor in swordplay and combat training, Sir Fyodor, moved onto a posting within the Army, if memory serves. Well liked by his men and his superiors, tad stern, but a good man all the same. I could also, if necessary, do some digging with the morally questionable of society, being a sellsword has taught me a thing or two about the seedy underbelly that every kingdom hides. Enough gold can get you just about anything, if you pay the right professional."
Well I certainly appreciate the interest so far! Definitely enough to get an OOC together properly, sure as sure, so expect that within the next day or so at the absolute most.
So, as the title suggests, the premise is very much inspired by the anime Cowboy Bebop, something that I remain extremely fond of. As a sort of TL;DR, a small group (no more than 4 or so people, not including myself) for their own personal reasons end up wandering the galaxy together, staying afloat on whatever profits they can manage. What they do, why they do it, and where they go is completely up to the folks in question. I have a general direction for a start, but after that, where folks want to go, the kind of reputation they want, how they get along, that is all up to them. Galaxy keeps on turning though, and life keeps moving on, so who says that our band of folks don't get drawn into conflicts outside their own every now and again? All depends on those interested, really. So, info dump is there, any interest, questions, comments, suggestions, so on and so forth?

@Sho Minazuki My apologies, it was kind of in character for Jerod to be honest though. He had other things to worry about, the royal fighting with only a shield for example.
Jerod Staudinger





Jerod had been keeping the touch of nerves about returning home under very tight wraps, focusing on the small group's surroundings and keeping general watch in case trouble was following them from the Battle of Dragonreach Pass. Whatever gods willing though, it seemed things were going to be quiet on the way back to Elibe. The spearwoman had also joined them, to focus his thoughts elsewhere, apparently owing her life to the Crown Prince of Elibe. Not the worst person to owe their life to, even if that sort of arrangement rarely ended well as far as the sellsword was concerned. His thoughts were snapped out of his mind when the Crown Prince mentioned them not having introduced each other at all, not really, and he read the hidden meaning into that. Who were the two of them, who were they really that is, and the sellsword knew full well that he couldn't keep avoiding a formal introduction at this point.

Jerod knew full well who the Crown Prince was, though he couldn't recall how much interaction his elder siblings, Ansgar and Lashiel, had with the royal family directly. That was mostly due to his own focus on swordplay instead of statesmanship, though the latter he knew enough about to get by as needs must. The retainers of the Crown Prince, he did not know by who they were alone, and the introductions were useful. A Sage, Keerin, icy and professional it seemed, and that suited Jerod just fine. He could work with a cold professional, assuming that wasn't just a face put up towards newcomers and unknowns around the Crown Prince. The second, a Hero named Merilia, louder and more blunt about not trying anything funny around the Prince. Loud and upfront, paired with cool and reserved, the Prince covered the spectrum rather well as long as he straddled the two extremes well enough. With Merilia's eyes more focused on the spearwoman than him, he could tell who she was aiming that at, though considering their appearances, one could hardly blame her for such things.

A subtle slump of the shoulders was paired with the realization that, since the spearwoman had not introduced herself yet, Jerod would have to do so first. Returning his posture back to its usual as they walked, he wasted no time with the introduction that was necessary. "Seems I indeed forgot to introduce myself in all that excitement. Jerod Staudinger, at your service. And to get the chain of potential questions out of the way, yes, the same as the House Staudinger back in Elibe. You might have had the misfortune of meeting my elder two siblings, circumstances depending." His tone somewhat implied a joke, though it was deadpan enough that there was reasonable room for doubt to be cast on the intent of joking or not. Notably he seemed to not know of their exact status at the moment, thanks to him avoiding news from Elibe whenever possible, which was not too hard given his employment usually carried him well and far from home. Until now, but considering the war brewing, his siblings bleeding or dying for his families running desire to secure the throne was Gods damned stupid. So if he could prevent that, they would owe him for keeping them off the field of battle, even if the glory seeking was cut short.
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