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6 yrs ago
Current I teach my first online lecture today... this shouldn't be too hard right?
4 likes
11 yrs ago
Tout ce qui est fait n'est plus à faire
11 yrs ago
"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."
11 yrs ago
"El amor es como el fuego. Suelen ver el humo los que están fuera antes que las llamas los que están dentro."

Bio



Hexaflexagon (Concept)
In geometry, flexagons are flat models, usually constructed by folding strips of paper, that can be flexed or folded in certain ways to reveal faces besides the two that were originally on the back and front.


Hexaflexagon (Person?)
Academic who somehow got conned into working for the Government. Been role-playing both on forums and TTRPGs for close to twenty years at this point. I'm like 99% retired from active RPing on the Guild, but I still like to poke my head onto here once in a while to make sure that I didn't leave the lights on.

Most Recent Posts

What Myke I don't get a hi? I'm insulted! XD

Okay so hypothetical for a terrible situation: I assuming if a elemental guardian is killed, trapped, banished, anything bad happens to make them grumpy etc terrible terrible things will happen right?


Hey guys.... Number 1000. Woot Woot Woot.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, the sound reverberated and danced across the city being called to sources of darkness like a fly to a lamp. It floated across open streets and along dark alleyways, up through the gutters and down the windowsill. Soon it left the Central District and found itself heading towards the sounds of waves crashing against the dock, the sounds of heavy ships blowing their horns and the drunken curses of sailors. It passed through the Market bouncing and refracting off of pots, pans, clocks, jewelry and other consumable. Soon it found itself among the abandoned warehouses where not a soul dwells expect for those seeking refuge from the world in long forgotten memories. It soared and laughed giddily as it climbed up the tallest remaining warehouses where a young woman sat alone watching the ebb and flow of the sea.

She had been called several things over the years but in the current moment she was known as Specter. The name was befitting to her beside the obvious reason for her so called gift. A specter, ghost, wisp, fragment those were all easy comparisons one could make to the petite girl looking as a strong breeze from the bay could shatter her into a million pieces. The only thing that might of made you question for a moment was the gargantuan sword that sat next to her. For the weapon certainly could not have been her’s or else merely hefting it would tear her muscles to pieces would it not?

No one was around to ponder these questions though of course. No she was alone to her own thoughts and that was just the way she wanted it. She found that the closer she got to the sky above the less the voices would speak out whispering the foul deeds and requests. The spirits the still mingled around the area would sometimes join her and they could be alone together; she liked the spirits of the fisherman and the sailors they seemed to accept their fate at the cruel hands of the sea much easier than say those would died of disease or under the deviance of a knife. From up there she could look out onto the harbor and here crashing waves that reminded her of a long forgotten place that felt like home.

It was in this time of meditation and recollection that the tapping reached her ears. Her eyes opened as her ears acting like acutely aware radar dishes listened to the rhythm. Blade Dancer. It seemed he had run into a problem of sorts as he always ended up. She looked up at the sky quizzically as she listened again trying to pick anything else up. Safety...., Blade Dancer had stormed into the most well guarded prison in all of Penumbra. She laughed a small quiet whisper of joy as she mused to herself I almost feel bad for the guards it is a little unfair isn’t it?

None the less she was not one to refuse another Hunter’s call to aid and so she rose to her feet. Specter rolled her head in a big circle releasing the tension in her neck before reaching down and grabbing Faux restrapping it to her back. She was certainly an odd sight, the pale light of the early evening silhouetting her body as her sword practically brushed against the ground. She looked like a child trying to play the role of the hero. Specter looked with one more parting gaze towards the bay before she turned away from the comforting smell of open water and towards the towering colossus that was Penumbra.

She reached Central in little time as she leaped across rooftops in bounds, a ghost among the shingles. As she pushed further and further into the city the darkness grew its chanting becoming louder in her ears. The Plague had changed the city and the closer you got to Penumbra’s center the greater who could feel its lasting dark scars. She found herself nearing the Prison and so she whispered to herself gently; the words that were spoken were old and forgotten by most men as she allowed the darkness to morph around her making her invisible to the naked eye.

She landed on a roof overlooking the prison and began to take in the area around here. An officer was on the roof with her, a large rifle in his hand as he oversaw the area looking for any movement. Beneath them the rest had begun to make a perimeter around Safety as infiltration teams had begun to set up to the storm the building. Specter had to give them credit they did act fast when time was needed. She remembered some tidbits of information she had heard about the cathedral of iron and stone, the arc stone defense system. She would need to acquire a gaoler’s insignia, looking upon the other officer on the roof and she knew what she had to do.

She approached the man quickly and in one swift motion wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled back. The two were now in a sitting position the man making horrible gurgling sounds as he fought against his assailant’s terrible strength. Specter hummed a soft lullaby to herself easily repealing the men's advances to break free as she waited. Eventually the man’s closed and his breathing slowed. There was no need to create more bodies than one needed to, she thought to herself as she pulled the man away from the edge of the roof. Looking down she ruffled her hands through the man’s pockets searching for something, soon cold metal pressed against her fingers and out she pulled a gaoler’s insignia.

Specter took a deep breath collecting herself once more her hands still shaking with a slight tremor. She breathed out feeling her diaphragm relax before letting the darkness take her once more. The voices hiding in the dark grew in strength as they called out to her but she remained focus not letting them drag her mind away. She jumped off the building landing on the street below. She danced through the crowd of officers, a gust of wind among their frames as even those that looked her way saw nothing at all. She passed through the first checkpoint outside of Safety, before slipping in casually through the front door. Looking around she listened for where the most sounds of struggle and protest came from.

“Well... into the breach.” Specter whispered to herself as she pushed deeper into Safety heading towards Blade Dancer’s last known location.
I believe I shall throw my hat into this as well.
Let Operation: Let Us Not Die Horribly commence!
At the moment of impact the 7th were being the extraordinary warriors they always were, colloquially this meant they were currently asleep. During hyperspace jumps during most hours UEE ships mostly ran on ghost crews expect for those in the bridge and engineering as the dangers of real space were far and distant away or so they presumed and once traveling at FTL speeds the Lincoln basically ran itself speeding towards its intend destination. This generally gave time for pilots and soldiers to get some well deserved R&R before they were thrown into the next battle for their lives. You caught your forty winks when you could during wartime and wherever you could get it even in the low hanging cramped bunks of the Lincoln. As the Coalition experimental harpoon made impact the rumbled would of been enough to wake up any of the light sleepers. Moments later when the Lincoln was forcibly ripped from hyperspace surely it would wake everyone else up. The jerking moment of the sudden deceleration throwing personal objects, people and anything else not bolted to the floor or strapped in about.

Commander Trapp himself had awoken to the rumble and as he rose from his bed to see what was happening he was thrown forward getting sprawled across the narrow floor of the bunk room. Letting out a few choice words that would make his mother blush he pushed himself to his feet as the ship groaned in protest. He looked around quickly first making sure nothing was on fire before checking to make sure the rest of the 7th had all made it through all right. Or at least the half of his squad equipped with male genitalia for as progressive as the UEE was in its everyone can die for their country policy, bunk rooms and bathroom facilities were segregated upon gender. While some argue this keeps things more crowded in ships like the Lincoln as people had to be fit by gender like tuna cans instead of by person, the santicy of the empire needed to be upheld because god forbid the Coalition found the UEE too crass.

"All hands to battle stations, repeat all hands to battle stations."


The calm, cold, and collected robotic voice chimed automatically, oblivious of their commencing and apparent doom as Trapp and the rest pulled their flight suits on quickly. They were fast and efficient you don't get through the first week of 101st training without being able to put on your suit in under a minute and it gets harsher as they weeks go on blindfolds, gas grenades, bound and gagged, getting kicked at the 101st drill sergeants made sure when push came to shove you could be battle ready as quickly as possible. As he started moving towards the door Trapp wondered in his head what the hell was going on. They were in hyperspace, it was supposed to be somewhere safe... if the Coalition could hit you there.... where couldn't they. "Alright let's move!" Trapp yelled to the male half of the 7th as they filed out of the bunkroom and into the hallway of the Lincoln.

The hallway was filled with chaos people running every which way as they got to their respective duties, a few man of the damage control until running towards the engineering wing with fire extinguishes and determined looks upon their faces. Trapp for a moment wondered if somehow the engineering crew had mad a miscalculation and the reactor had a discharge, but no that made little sense as why would the robot be telling him to go to battle stations. No this was something much more worse then Trapp could of imagined. The Lincoln rumbled again as if whatever Coalition forces were attacking them were trying to soften them them up judging from the minor severity of it though he reckoned that it only glanced off at best. Making it down the hall a bit he puled up aside the female bunk room in that section of the ship and poked his head in for a brief moment not caring for common decency in the moment as he give a order. "MAS hanger, double time!"

Pulling away knowing that he did not have to wait for a response as he sprinted down the corridor as he did the rest of the 7th filed in behind him as they made their way to the MAS hanger the sounds of chaos building around them.



A period of frantic, dramatic sprinting later.

"Warning hostile mobile armor suits approaching. ETA four minutes."


The 7th pulled into the hanger at top speed, Trapp did not even have to look behind him assured that the rest would know the drill and get into their MASs without him having to tell them to do so. The deck crew was moving at a million miles a second strapping on weapons and running last checks on the vehicles before they were thrown into battle. While most repairs after the last battle had been finished some them still were not quite running at full capacity yet. He made a move towards his own Sentry as the crew chief for the hanger waved him down.

"Commander!" The crew chief yelled intercepting the commander as he approached his vehicle.

"I'm assured that all vehicles are ready for launch?" Trapp asked tapping his foot against the floor worried.

"As ready as they ever will sir! But we have a slight problem with your Sentry sir it was not able to be repaired in time and there are still currently reactor issues that need to be addressed.

"I appreciate the concern sir but the Lincoln is currently going to have some problems if I don't get in that MAS. We can fix it later!"

"...Understood! Godspeed Commander!"

Trapp nodded before breaking off and running to the Sentry. While it looked slightly better than it did with no more exposed circuitry and gaping holes in the cockpit it did look a little rough around the edges. Not caring he bounded up the ladder to the catwalk flipping a switch as he did that popped the cockpit open. He bounded over the railing and fell into the seat with a small huff as he buckled himself in. Throwing his helmet atop his head he entered a series of commands as the Sentry roared to life. He brushed several warnings about possible reactor leakage as it read diagnostics checks to him. Main thrusters 75%, Reactor 75%, Armor 50%, all other systems nominal. He shook his head it wasn't the best conditions but it was what he had to work with. He felt the magnetic clamps attached to the MAS as it was pulled to the catapult launcher getting locked into place. The rest of the 7th were getting hooked in around him in a neat little row as numbers began to count down across their screens. As the numbers neared zero he spoke.

"7th Sound off!........ Alright, now launch!" He roared with a courageous vigor as the catapults rushed them up and out of the Lincoln, rumbling soon ceasing to silence as the void of space surrounded them. The 7th began to take up defense potions around the Lincoln as the shiny new MAS and company were steadily approaching almost within firing range. Trapp looked around taking in his surroundings taking note of the strange ship and its two destroyer he figured the unfamiliar one most of been the one that manged to drag them out of hyperspace. He switch his communications over to secure comms as he sent out a status report to the Captain.

"Fox this is Odin. We are in the position and waiting on your go."
Лидер команды, it would probably be fitting for you to start. 'cause yer' the captain (not the captain).


Aye, that would make sense.


So who are we waiting for to begin, Operation: Let Us Not Die Horribly?
Co-GM or not, Whoami is still a player. I like to surprise my players.


Surprise, or terrify us with the might of your frigging gravity well projector? XD
Well. Shit.


CO-GM acting all innocent like they had no idea that this was going to happen... You're in cahoots I say! Cahoots!
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