Fabricant451

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

[quote=@Dynamo Frokane]
<Snipped quote by Fabricant451>

Mass Effect 2 is fun filler with a witty script and a thrilling-ish final mission a 'great' game does not make.[quote]

I didn't say Mass Effect 2.

I said "There has been one great Mass Effect game". I stand by that.

Maybe 20 seconds wasnt convincing enough.

Its not mass effect 3's ending so its a good game.....right?

No no, I've seen the meme videos and everything and I still think the game isn't a dumpster fire of a disaster of a travesty because it's not Witcher 3 or whatever it is the popular gaming culture subreddits and boards cream the jeans over while spouting off about cuckoldry.

Andromeda is on par with what BioWare has been putting out since, oh, Dragon Age 2. Except the shooty shooty bits are an improvement. When a new team comes together and deals with leavings and layoffs and the collective pressure of people that put 10/7/5 year old games they put on pedestals breathing down their necks well here we are. That people are being all "7/10 WORST EVER" speaks to why gamers are the worst people with the worst hobby.

And apart from being asleep for 600 years I'm pretty sure shepard was a 20 something with the universe on his/her shoulders, managed to have conversations that didnt seem to be lifted out of an early episode of Stargate SG1

Ryder is not Shepard and Shepard also had his share of lines that weren't exactly Shakespeare. Shepard was never exactly the most fleshed out character until they tried to make him more human in ME3 to disastrous results. He was effectively a blank slate for the player with only the briefest of personal histories that didn't really impact anything outside of incidental dialog. Ryder is a far more realized character, both Scott and Sara have different backgrounds and pasts that relate them back to the Initiative and their dad. Their dad is effectively Shepard. Ryder, in contrast to Shepard, is not a blank slate.

Shepard was a badass military man even before he was a Spectre. Scott was just a grunt man stationed at an outpost watching others do better in the military than him. Sara was pretty much a geek that did Prothean archaeological digs with her team. Sara's literally like ME1 Liara in that she's a nerdy awkward person. Only Liara never had the pressures of lives depending on her in the same way Ryder does. Both have parent issues. Both are awkward around the people they want to bone.

Not everyone in the galaxy has the monotone charisma of Shepard.

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

<Snipped quote by Fabricant451>

I disagree.

@Dynamo Frokane

I'm not surprised.

<Snipped quote by Ace of Hearts>

Its many problems go beyond 'the mythos'

twitter.com/TypeANumber2/status/843424..

@Dynamo Frokane

Ryder, the 20-something dork who is stepping into shoes she can't possibly fill who has spent 600 years asleep and has millions of lives on her shoulders, is not suave. More at 11. Game sux.

What Are You Listening To?

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

Well I haven't bought it -- not because of any SJW bullshittery (hell I enjoyed Rogue One), just because reviews are pretty genuinely awful. But allegedly you can't make a custom white guy.

@mdk

You can absolutely make a custom white guy. You can make a custom <insert skin color here> guy. It's also like the rare game to get Asian characters right in terms of customization.

The game's fine, it just starts off pretty poorly and there's only been one great Mass Effect game anyway. Andromeda is pretty much the evolution of BioWare story telling since they realized more people care about who they can fuck in the game rather than anything else. But also there's the most hilariously awful and tone deaf trans character in Andromeda that I almost have to give them credit for doing something so poorly written and handled.

But you can fuck a female turian so it's a 5/5

Closed. Free Pass has been rebooted.

Kenzi right now:



also i did it i posted okay see you in a month

Closed. Free Pass has been rebooted.

Location: Where Am I?
Interacting with: Who Are You Again?

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I'm scared I'm a loser aware of my face. My father was a user and I'm afraid I'm just the same.

Kenzi wasn't even sure what time it was. It was a bitch sometimes, that lack of awareness, but today was just one of those days...Kenzi was at school but she wasn't exactly at school. The last thing she actually remembered was fellow students getting way too ambitious about their desires for a class trip. Maybe some of them had Swiss bank accounts or rich uncles or whatever it was the popular crowd had in all those cliche situations. Kenzi didn't exactly pitch in - let the girls who gave a shit wash cars and realize how little money that actually makes. Kenzi was a girl scout once. For about three hours. In that time frame they only had four cars come in and two of them left with cracks in the windshield; but in Kenzi's defense, or so she explained to the scout leader, she didn't know the rocks in her sponge were that sharp.

Mornings were often like that. Come in, ignore the sounds of friends being friendly and having very unrealistic and lofty goals and then just zone out until something happened. Like a test or being called to answer a problem; most days Kenzi could get away with barely paying attention, at this point the teachers knew what to expect from Kenzi though that didn't stop them from trying to make an example of her. Today was something of an exception in that when she got to her desk and leaned back a bit in the classic zoning out stance, she somehow lost track of time. It was like that old thing of not watching a pot while it's boiling or looking up at the clock in school after half an hour and learning it's been five minutes. In Kenzi's case, however, the one time she glanced up at the clock told her exactly what she needed to know.

It had been about four hours and she hadn't done a damn thing.

Was there a test? Homework to be turned in or assigned? A project? Shit, she didn't know. She didn't even seem to care, really, and it wasn't as if anyone was around to poke her or snap her back to reality. Her mind was elsewhere, gone, off on its own sort of adventure of wanting to be anywhere else. Some called it daydreaming but that wasn't exactly it. Kenzi wasn't dreaming, she was just...uncaring. What difference did it make if she was attentive in class anyway? Everyone, teachers and students and fucking janitors, all had their minds made up about Kenzi from the jump. If she was caught studying in class it was because she was up to something and trying to hide it, if she wasn't paying attention then it was to be expected because she's Kenzi Lin. It's hard to care about anything when the people that are supposed to inspire have already written you off as a failure doomed to flip burgers or sling dope.

Shit, that's job security though. People need their cheap burgers and trans fats.

Kenzi's reputation preceded her. She wondered if any of the students knew her actual G.P.A. or if they all assumed she was straddling the line between C Minus and D Plus. It didn't matter. Few of them really talked to her for any actual reason other than pretending to be cordial and once graduation rolled around it would most likely be the last she saw of any of them. Not that she was being overly negative or anything, that was just a simple fact of life. Plenty of them wouldn't get out. They'd get suckered into staying in town, marrying young because they couldn't wait to fuck on prom night behind the dumpsters or in the bathroom, and the next thing they know mom's having some skinbeast sucking her youth and beauty through a teat while dad's trying to impress a part timer at the Wal Mart staff room. That fuckin lie they feed to kids, about doing anything they can put their minds to...inspiring but hollow. No kid aspires to be a teenage bride with a baby inside but there's always one.

It wasn't as if Kenzi breezed through the day's lesson or whatever happened, it was more that she just couldn't be assed to do much of anything. Everything was just so...muted. It was only because there was the loud sound of a locker being slammed shut that Kenzi finally snapped to the present, that her vision cleared and her hearing returned to normal. Spend long enough wafting through the haze of life and life becomes hazy. This was the locker room. Her feet didn't betray her, they knew their way around the place even if the body was millions of miles away. So...gym. Physical education, as they called it, but what was the education in running laps or suicides? The only education was learning who hated you whenever dodgeball came around. Dodgeball was as close as schools came to allowing hazing and bullying. And Kenzi was going to have no part in it.

Presently she was sat on one of the benches in the locker room as some of the girls decided to put on a uniform because doing physical activities in three hundred dollar clothes was, like, ugh, so not happening. For a moment, Kenzi wondered if anyone in the locker room was aware of her preferences and if they assumed the locker room was like some sort of buffet for the eyes. That was the old fashioned sort of shit, wasn't it? When ignorant sorts assumed that because someone was x they must assume all x's are fuck worthy, as if an actual human being wasn't in charge of their bodies. Just more random thoughts to carry her through the day.

Kenzi stood up and thrust her hands as deep into the pockets as they could go. She didn't give a fuck about a uniform and she gave even less of one about whatever activity was scheduled under the very flimsy umbrella that was 'physical education'. Kenzi marched, more of a stomp really, into the gymnasium proper and, not so much as glancing to the coach, marked her territory on the bleachers.

She'd like to see someone try to remove her from them.

The Worldwalker

Wren held the grip on her dagger all the harder when the stranger in the robe spoke up. She hadn't asked questions. She COULDN'T ask questions, merely think them. And yet he spoke to her as if she had spoken as easily as the others around them. That was unheard of. No one could read minds, no one could look into the head of someone unless it was on the chopping block and the axe has been brought down. Who was this person? More importantly, who were these people? She heard the voice speak, but she understood even less than before. There was talk of worlds. Of saving them? Helping them? Wren was skeptical. How could she not be given what she was hearing. The one that believed words from strangers were the ones that wound up taken advantage of.

Wren only took a cursory glance at the others gathered. She didn't know their strengths, their weaknesses, or anything beyond the physical, but already she was thinking of ways to make their lives shorter. There was something to be said of civility, yes, but it was the soon to be dead that didn't plan ways to take out the people you met in these situations. Some of these people looked dangerous, but Wren did not see any who had the same eyes as her. The eyes of someone with true remorse. With an empty heart. How could any of them truly consider themselves killers otherwise.

It was only when the high pitched sound reached her ears that Wren flinched and loosened her grip. It wasn't deafening but it was noticeable. Audible. And alarming. Once she regained her composure from the sound, the grip tightened further. Was this a test? A target? Some threat? There were others around but Wren had gone so unnoticed. WOuld continue to be. And it would be easy to Sing her way closer, to slide her Talon across whatever neck was responsible. But instead she gasped and nearly dropped her dagger to the floor. Blinking didnt change the scene. Nor did closing her eyes and re-opening them.

Whatever conversation the robed figure was having with the new arrival was lost on Wren's ears, for her eyes were already taken, quite taken in fact, by the blonde woman whose siren call alerted her arrival. Wren had felt something like this before, an affection from a glance, but it was rare that it caught her off guard. Rare that it made her nearly drop her weapon. Rarer still that made her sheathe it. And yet she did, putting her Talon back in its nest. The last time Wren had felt something like this, she was forced to take the other's life.

Wren was still curious as to why she was here. Why any of them were. But the answer was secondary now. For Wren, for that ever foolish girl, she only wanted to get closer. But for now, she remained behind. In the shadows. Watching. Observing. Hoping that this time...would not end in tears.

Grand Theft Auto: The Syndicate

Addison Tavington

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IAAPDB

PROFILE ID: SMOL5642

^{P R O F I L E I N F O R M A T I O N}

SURNAME

【 TAVINGTON 】

FIRST NAME

【 ADDISON 】

ALIAS (ES)

ONLINE HANDLE 'SPROKET'

DATE OF BIRTH

08/19/98

CLASSIFICATION

NOT DANGEROUS

AFFILIATIONS

PRESUMED: N/A

STATUS

ALIVE

---

---

^{P H Y S I C A L A P P E A R A N C E}

RACE CAUCASIAN
SEX FEMALE
APPARENT AGE 18 1/2
HEIGHT Approx: 5'4"
Weight Approx: 107
HAIR LENGTH SHOULDER-LENGTH
HAIR COLOR PINKISH-PLATINUM BLONDE
EYE COLOR BLUE
SKIN TONE PALE

ADDITIONAL NOTES

• Hair is believed to be bleached or otherwise dyed. No tattoos or identifiable marks.

^{P S Y C H E V A L}

DESTRUCTIVE? Y
DANGEROUS? N
UNDER SURVEILLANCE? Y; ONLINE HABITS MONITORED
PRIORITY? Green

ADDITIONAL NOTES

Addison Tavington, aka Sproket, has very little that interests the Agency given her relative young age; however, her online habits as well as evidence that traces back to her suggests a potential threat in the making. Better to be prepared. Given her lack of interaction with others, a psyche profile has been difficult to put together. From what has been gathered, Addie or 'Sproket' seems to be unhinged and unpredictable which, combined with her affinity for distributing and crafting home-made gadgets and devices suggests a high intellect but little in the way of actual social skills. Perhaps on the spectrum? Cannot confirm. Online conversations suggests general lack of awareness of sarcasm and phone messages suggest the same. Possibly just an act, but habits suggest Addison is genuine, if not in personality then in ability. Past recording indicates a distaste for violence, even simple arguments between parents causes her to mentally and physically 'shut down'. Curious, then, why someone like Addison sells her devices to violent people.

^{H I S T O R Y}

KNOWN FAMILY

PHILLIP TAVINGTON THE SIXTH (FATHER) ALIVE
CAROLINE TAVINGTON (MOTHER) ALIVE
PHILLIP TAVINGTON THE SEVENTH (BROTHER) ALIVE
PATRICK TAVINGTON (BROTHER) ALIVE
TYLER TAVINGTON (BROTHER) ALIVE
CARLA CARRARRA (LIVE-IN MAID) ALIVE

KNOWN RESIDENCE RICHMAN, LOS SANTOS

ADDITIONAL NOTES

Addison Tavington comes from money which might explain her rather sparse criminal record. Despite only small infractions, Sprocket has been linked to a variety of criminal activities though never on site and with inconclusive or otherwise circumstantial evidence, there's little to build a case around at the moment. Sproket is a known dealer of homemade devices, from the explosive to the distracting, and each of them have been sold to various criminal organizations through proper channels. No digital footprint and no paper trail when it comes to purchases. It's only a matter of time before someone purchases Addison's services permanently. Considering her most recent explosive device resulted in a botched robbery and one dead, Sproket has gone off the grid at present.

^{C R I M I N A L R E C O R D A N D K N O W N I M A G E S}

UNCONFIRMED. TRACES OF HOME MADE DEVICES FOUND IN VARIOUS BANK ROBBERIES OVER THE PAST THREE YEARS.

Most recent photo

Subject practices bike safety

Lifeinvader Profile Photo

^{O F F T H E R E C O R D}

CHARACTER'S DIALOGUE COLOR SPROKET!!!!!!/Peachpuff/ FFDAB9
FACE CLAIM'S NAME Laurence Leboeuf
CHARACTER'S RANK IN ORGANIZATION PAWN

The Sproketmobile

Bike has an obnoxiously large vanity plate behind the seat. While not technically a registered vehicle the plate nevertheless reads: 'SPR0K3T'. Plate appears to be homemade, or purchased from a gift shop.

No registered automobiles.

Grand Theft Auto: The Syndicate

So I'm makin a second character. I'm thinking like the rookiest of rookies. Or in chess terms, a pawn that hasn't even been put on the board yet. Anyway, here's the sheet.

Addison Tavington

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---

IAAPDB

PROFILE ID: SMOL5642

^{P R O F I L E I N F O R M A T I O N}

SURNAME

【 TAVINGTON 】

FIRST NAME

【 ADDISON 】

ALIAS (ES)

ONLINE HANDLE 'SPROKET'

DATE OF BIRTH

08/19/98

CLASSIFICATION

NOT DANGEROUS

AFFILIATIONS

PRESUMED: N/A

STATUS

ALIVE

---

---

^{P H Y S I C A L A P P E A R A N C E}

RACE CAUCASIAN
SEX FEMALE
APPARENT AGE 18 1/2
HEIGHT Approx: 5'4"
Weight Approx: 107
HAIR LENGTH SHOULDER-LENGTH
HAIR COLOR PINKISH-PLATINUM BLONDE
EYE COLOR BLUE
SKIN TONE PALE

ADDITIONAL NOTES

• Hair is believed to be bleached or otherwise dyed. No tattoos or identifiable marks.

^{P S Y C H E V A L}

DESTRUCTIVE? Y
DANGEROUS? N
UNDER SURVEILLANCE? Y; ONLINE HABITS MONITORED
PRIORITY? Green

ADDITIONAL NOTES

Addison Tavington, aka Sproket, has very little that interests the Agency given her relative young age; however, her online habits as well as evidence that traces back to her suggests a potential threat in the making. Better to be prepared. Given her lack of interaction with others, a psyche profile has been difficult to put together. From what has been gathered, Addie or 'Sproket' seems to be unhinged and unpredictable which, combined with her affinity for distributing and crafting home-made gadgets and devices suggests a high intellect but little in the way of actual social skills. Perhaps on the spectrum? Cannot confirm. Online conversations suggests general lack of awareness of sarcasm and phone messages suggest the same. Possibly just an act, but habits suggest Addison is genuine, if not in personality then in ability. Past recording indicates a distaste for violence, even simple arguments between parents causes her to mentally and physically 'shut down'. Curious, then, why someone like Addison sells her devices to violent people.

^{H I S T O R Y}

KNOWN FAMILY

PHILLIP TAVINGTON THE SIXTH (FATHER) ALIVE
CAROLINE TAVINGTON (MOTHER) ALIVE
PHILLIP TAVINGTON THE SEVENTH (BROTHER) ALIVE
PATRICK TAVINGTON (BROTHER) ALIVE
TYLER TAVINGTON (BROTHER) ALIVE
CARLA CARRARRA (LIVE-IN MAID) ALIVE

KNOWN RESIDENCE RICHMAN, LOS SANTOS

ADDITIONAL NOTES

Addison Tavington comes from money which might explain her rather sparse criminal record. Despite only small infractions, Sprocket has been linked to a variety of criminal activities though never on site and with inconclusive or otherwise circumstantial evidence, there's little to build a case around at the moment. Sproket is a known dealer of homemade devices, from the explosive to the distracting, and each of them have been sold to various criminal organizations through proper channels. No digital footprint and no paper trail when it comes to purchases. It's only a matter of time before someone purchases Addison's services permanently. Considering her most recent explosive device resulted in a botched robbery and one dead, Sproket has gone off the grid at present.

^{C R I M I N A L R E C O R D A N D K N O W N I M A G E S}

UNCONFIRMED. TRACES OF HOME MADE DEVICES FOUND IN VARIOUS BANK ROBBERIES OVER THE PAST THREE YEARS.

Most recent photo

Subject practices bike safety

Lifeinvader Profile Photo

^{O F F T H E R E C O R D}

CHARACTER'S DIALOGUE COLOR SPROKET!!!!!!/Peachpuff/ FFDAB9
FACE CLAIM'S NAME Laurence Leboeuf
CHARACTER'S RANK IN ORGANIZATION PAWN

The Sproketmobile

Bike has an obnoxiously large vanity plate behind the seat. While not technically a registered vehicle the plate nevertheless reads: 'SPR0K3T'. Plate appears to be homemade, or purchased from a gift shop.

No registered automobiles.

@Universorum@lovely complex@Silent Observer

Grand Theft Auto: The Syndicate

@Fabricant451 @BrutalBx

Collab?

@Sovi3t

Sure