Thanks. I laugh every time I look at it. It's the eyes, really.
I'll probably put the actual thread up within the next day or two, even if we are still looking for more people.
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Thanks for the interest, everyone. We seem to still have a few spots open, so I'll wait a bit longer. This is a return to the game after a long hiatus for me, so I hope that y'all will forgive me if I'm slightly rusty when we actually get into it.
To respond to a few of you:
Clumsy: Yes, pilot, Navigations Officer, same thing.
Rhymer: Yeah, I envision it the same way. It's up to y'all what races you want to play, but I would hope that there is some diversity. The way I envisioned the universe is that, while there were some interstellar races in the milky way community prior to humans getting on the board, humans brought many more along with them, as they travelled through the galaxy making contact with more primitive civilizations. These contacts were made in the name of evangelization, and, after astonishing the less advanced species with technology beyond their comprehensions, used the story of Jesus journeying through the "heavens" after leaving Earth to explain the culture's own mythologies. Then, in exchange for conversion, the church helped the alien civilizations set up their own space programs to join the galactic community. While this seems as though it was a generosity, the church (or, rather, it's exclusively human hierarchy) has utilized this influence to dominate and manipulate the exospecies. While I was originally going to name this after some generic alien-sounding deity in order to avoid offending the religious, one day while I was thinking about rebooting this I had an epiphany: "God damn Space Mormons". Too good to pass up. Plus this, I feel, explains the religion's spread through the galaxy and alien species' willingness to fanatically participate in a human dominated religion a lot better.
So anyway, yeah. Multitudes of alien races. Hopefully.
Plant: Cool. I've never read that, or even any of his other works. I'll add that to what I'd like to check out, along with the good old A Song of Ice and Fire series.
To respond to a few of you:
Clumsy: Yes, pilot, Navigations Officer, same thing.
Rhymer: Yeah, I envision it the same way. It's up to y'all what races you want to play, but I would hope that there is some diversity. The way I envisioned the universe is that, while there were some interstellar races in the milky way community prior to humans getting on the board, humans brought many more along with them, as they travelled through the galaxy making contact with more primitive civilizations. These contacts were made in the name of evangelization, and, after astonishing the less advanced species with technology beyond their comprehensions, used the story of Jesus journeying through the "heavens" after leaving Earth to explain the culture's own mythologies. Then, in exchange for conversion, the church helped the alien civilizations set up their own space programs to join the galactic community. While this seems as though it was a generosity, the church (or, rather, it's exclusively human hierarchy) has utilized this influence to dominate and manipulate the exospecies. While I was originally going to name this after some generic alien-sounding deity in order to avoid offending the religious, one day while I was thinking about rebooting this I had an epiphany: "God damn Space Mormons". Too good to pass up. Plus this, I feel, explains the religion's spread through the galaxy and alien species' willingness to fanatically participate in a human dominated religion a lot better.
So anyway, yeah. Multitudes of alien races. Hopefully.
Plant: Cool. I've never read that, or even any of his other works. I'll add that to what I'd like to check out, along with the good old A Song of Ice and Fire series.
Barren are the majority of the Milky Way's cosmic shores. Bastions of life, islands of fertility dot the galactic scape amidst archipelagoes of their volcanic and turmoil ridden brethren. Yet still, even in perpetual, nature induced death these atolls are as rich and prized as their vibrant counterparts. Vied for they are constantly by empires reaching out past their native bounds. Violently these planet-nations thrust outward into the endless waves of primordial star matter, their children braving radiation and rocks, open field war and closed door diplomacy, untrue peace and unsecurable safety, for the glory of their empires and the sustainment of their homes. And by the hands of pirates, enemies, and eternal, endless space, they die.
Yet not safe could they be even with their boots in the soil of destination worlds. They are still subject to the cruelty of nature's oppressive design. Bombarded by radiation under gasless skies, freezing in the nights, boiling in the days, forced to breath toxic fumes from the earth beneath their feet, drowning in nearly liquid thick atmospheres and trying to suck in as much paper thin air as possible on these extraterrestrial missions, astronauts of all species were deterred by all native conditions. Thus the most important industrial boom in the Galaxy's interplanetary history was set to take place.
Enter the modern age of terraforming. The most expensive pieces of equipment in the known universe, Terraforming engines take decades to learn and lifetimes to master. These behemoths of pure power break continental plates to raise mountain ranges, crush land into ocean basins, evaporate noxious gasses into space, generate entire atmospheres, melt icy worlds, freeze volcanic hells, and can guide sea bearing comets from deep space all the way to arid systems. The ships they travel upon are captained and crewed by the most highly trained and experienced individuals brought and bribed from every corner of the known universe. For their sacrifices of years aboard the vessels, tremendous efforts to operate the equipment, bravery in defending the pride of empires, and losses of lives and limbs in the service, these crewsmen are paid like kings, and revered like gods.
By those who do not believe in gods. Though the grip of religion on the galaxy's consciousness has slipped in slight ways, the Interstellar Church of Jesus Christ’s Galactic Ascention, emanating from the Solar system to infiltrate the institutions of every species. The group, though dominated by the humans who brought terraforming into vogue, vehemently protests the practices as infringements of mortals onto the powers solely reserved for God himself. Their faculties stage passionate demonstrations damning terraforming and all of it’s conspirators, and theocracies governing in their name are constant source of historically empty yet increasingly violent threats. These unstable factors have thrown a shadow on the process, and, quaking under the influence of such indomitable oppressors or to avert disaster with neighboring powers, many of the otherwise secular dominions within the galaxy have scaled back their terraforming funding, some to almost or altogether non-existent, flooding the markets with trained crews, operators, technicians, and officers seeking asylum in other operations.
And thus, into the ever increasingly volatile galaxy, the Audhumla, chartered by the interstellar, nationally independant corporation Áes Dána and crewed by many of various races and nationalities from throughout the galaxy, leaves its port on Epsilon Eridani for deep space on a ten year mission. Captain Celebalda Ilúvatar has accepted a hefty workload for his crew, totaling seven contracts from varying corporations and nations for their services in making owned planets colonizable. The ship has been boarded by its menial crew, and prepared for the coming life. As the officers board once again, returning to the base from their home systems, Captain Ilúvatar requires a renewed personnel registration.
Remaining to be entered are:
First Mate: A direct assistant to the captain, and commander in his absence. This integral position is one only to be filled by a charismatic soul who has been promoted through the ranks in the company over years of service and demonstrating leadership, no matter at what position they entered the company’s employment, and is being preened for their own captainship someday.
Ground Crew Leader: In surveying the exoplanet, this officer will lead a landing team to the planet’s surface, collecting geological samples and conducting surveying exercises. A military background is a plus, considering the adaptability and experience required when leading a team into the unknown territory against hostile environments.
Navigations Officer: This officer is tasked with plotting the ship’s course through the galaxy, star systems, and atmospheres.
Chief Engineer: The upkeep and functionality of the ship itself is in the hands of the Chief Engineer. The position requires knowledge of the inner-workings of the ships’s systems, from the hyperdrive to the life support, keeping the Audhumla afloat and moving towards the completion of it’s mission is this officer’s goal.
First Terraforming Officer: The brains behind creating a livable habitat out of an inhospitable but incredibly valuable no-man’s land, requiring an understanding of the climates and environmental factors that will lead to sustainability and growth for the planet’s future colonies.
Chief Terraforming Technician: Working closely with the Terraforming Officer, the Chief Terraforming Technician conducts the actual operation of the most valuable and powerful pieces of equipment in existence, from the groundbreaker to the tectonic tractor to the cloud accumulator and others.
Biological Officer: The Audhumla carries millions of biological samples of flora and fauna, which must be carefully selected by this officer to stabilize the nutrient and elemental cycles of a planet’s newly created environment.
When these positions are filled, with new faces or hardened crew, the Audhumla shall embark to sow the fragile seeds of life into soft sands of the Milky Way’s cosmic coasts.
This is a reboot of an RP I tried once before, but which died after the first round of posts. For now, I’d ask that you just put down what role you are interested in playing. Should you be interested in doubling, playing a different officer role, or playing a non-officer character, or anything else, just say so and I can probably work you in. I don’t expect you to actually be an expert in ecosystems or exo-biology or theoretical physics, just creative and intelligent enough to BS and google your way to a convincing, entertaining post. I had races for this story last time, but they have been lost, so I will give a good deal of creative freedom if you would like to play as something other than a human. Also, if we can get far enough and people don’t entirely bail out on us, the story is not going to be entirely terraforming. There will eventually be some action-oriented elements, as I tried to foreshadow. However, it may start sort of slow. But what story doesn’t take a little time to build up the appropriate steam?
In any case, if you’ve read this far, thank you for your time and interest, and I hope that we can create a great story together.
What about me, now? You mean Alarei(Fulsom) and Kate?
Come on, guys! I just finished Time of Contempt, and Baptism of Fire doesn't come out in English until July. I need my Witcher fix!
Katelyn said
I'm sure I'll be on some tomorrow. :) we'll catch up soon and pound it out together.
I would pay to see you go 3 posts without sexual innuendo.
I just want to be able to put in my own avatar. Is that so hard?
The day was growing warmer, and Nira began to perspire into the fur against his skin. There was no shade on the road, the landscape he had traveled through for a number of hours into the early moments of the sun's downward path had been a fair bit of steppe. It was now in the process of giving way to a more rocky vista. The boulders lining the road and the slowly rising cliffs from which they had become detached were emanating the heat they had gathered throughout the day. It felt little like the early fall that the calendar claimed. The witcher released the reigns, and the horse continued to walk along the gravel path. He worked himself out of his coat, needed earlier in the morning but, white as it was, doing him no benefit now. Leaning back, he unfastened a saddle bag, and stuffed the cloak therein. His arms, now exposed to the clear sun, lifted the metallic weight of his sword belt from where it was balanced on the rump of the animal. Strapping it around his chest, he ensured the blades were in reach, and loose within their sheaths. Both silver and steel.
Vergen was near. The hills rose quicker, and the horse began to breath heavier. The beast had not the privilege afforded to the man straddling him of removing his fur in the heat. Nira released the reigns once more and tousled the animal's silky mane. The long hairs ran over the webbings of his fingers, before his nails raked across the dry skin of the animal's neck. The witcher leaned so far forward that his medallion rested against the brown haired neck before him. Glinting in the bright sun, it jangled against the thin chain that held it, of its own volition and without prompting by Nira's movements. The witcher sat up in the saddle. Magic had come to use nearby.
His blonde head on a swivel, Nira searched for the originator of the magical blast. There was more foliage surrounding the road, but no thickets that could be hidden within. Not that, of course, any one but a Scoia'tael could conceal themselves within a forest from a witcher's discerning glare. The hills, however, were rising into cliffs and the like ever more. The medallion lay still, the inanimate gaze of the roaring bear it depicted following his own. Coming around between two hills, Nira found himself surrounded by the remnants of a village, the inhabitants of which had been chased out by flame. The bear head vibrated almost imperceptibly against his sternum, reacting to the minute trace of magic still lingering in the air. Clopping rose from beneath him as the horse's shoes impacted a solid stone path rising from the crushed gravel that had lead him here from the banks of the Dyfne. After surveying the scorched remains, Nira lifted his piercing blue eyes ahead of him, as they could now make out the high wall surrounding the Dwarven city.
"Hael, vatt'ghern!" He was accosted by a lyrical voice attempting to sound stern.
"Hael, seidhe!" He replied, bringing his gaze down to the path before him. From the direction of the gate approached a small number of young seeming elves. Two dwarfs, dressed up in similar fashions as their obvious comrades leaned on their axes at the rear. Nira spurred the reluctant horse on towards the sharp eared figures. The lead elf, a tall, wiry specimen with hair of a color that would put Nilfgaardian banners to shame walked defiantly up to the witcher as the rest of his companions surrounded. A squirrel's tail dangled at the back of his hat as he turned his well sculpted face up towards Nira. They held eachother at eye length for a moment, before the Scoia'tael extended a gloved hand. Nira had to lean far down to reach the elven hand from atop his gargantuan mount, but they grasped eachother half way up the other's forearm with respect. A smile cracked the edges of the lower non-human's thin lips. Nira felt the grasp on his arm tighten hard, and he himself wrapped his free hand in the reigns just as the elf ripped downwards.
The witcher flexed every muscle in his body, and hooked his left foot into the underside of the leather saddle. He jerked the reigns in his effort to catch his fall. The horse's head was jerked hard, and it stumbled to the side, knocking the elf from his well planted balance. With the grasp on his arm weakened in surprise, Nira lurched away. As he regained the saddle, his right foot lashed out and caught the elf in the chest. Freed of hand, he tore the top sword from its scabbard and held it high above his head. The lustrous metal flashed in the afternoon sun, casting light over the faces of the elder soldiers around him. Beneath him, the horse tossed and turned, snorting and snarling with surprise. Nira shot a glance at the dwarves further up the path. They held their axes in their short arms across their chests. Confusion marred their bearded faces. Confused, that is, by why their taller comrades were laughing so heartily.
"Hael, Nira." The dark haired elf shouted, between his own laughter, from the ground.
"Hael, Brende." The sword wielding witcher responded.
"Why, vatt'ghern, did you draw your silver?" The elf didn't even try to rise, he was content to rest on the grass.
"Monsters," Nira's seldom used voice came again, "I'm surrounded by them." The rebuttal was met with more elven laughter, their canine-less mouths thrown open carelessly with grins. He threw the weapon down, point first. It slid easily into the moist dirt by Brende's head. The witcher threw his leg over the horse, and leaped down from the saddle onto the stone path. Brende reached out again, and Nira clasped his hand. This time the witcher pulled the elf, and they now both stood on their feet, shaking hands.
"I can recognize that golden mop from miles. It's good to finally see you in the sunlight."
"And without the stench of leaves composting all around."
"Ah, but that is the aroma of the forest. I could spend my life with that sweet odor filling my home."
"You will have to visit me in the desert sometime, where I won't ever smell it again." The elves once again cackled.
"What has brought you all the way to the north of our fair country, my Dh'oine friend?"
"Wishing to see what my efforts have brought. And perhaps the queen that I've helped install."
"You aren't the only vatt'ghern with that claim. The white haired one did much more than you, I could say. You, neither, have been the only one of your caste that we have seen today. Just recently some orange eyed witch man came with a man tied to his horse, calling on Saskia. Her audience has been a popular request this day. By your kind, and that of a stranger sort. A wizard, that is." Nira's ears perked up at the mention. He had his source of magical disturbance. The fact that the medallion still moved around just a bit denoted the fact that his spell had been extremely powerful. "Fuck wizards, I say. Dh'oine dabbling in magic never leads to good things. Just look at that Eilhart bitch." The elf spoke with a hand on Nira's back, as the pair trod on towards the gates. The witcher had sheathed his silver and given up his reigns to an elf who was leading the gelding behind them.
"I can wait," said Nira as they regained the company of the Dwarves, "I have no where to be in a hurry, as long as I have a place to sleep." The elves all patted him on his shoulders, offering him extra bedrolls in the tent village they had set up, and free drinks at The Cauldron.
Vergen was near. The hills rose quicker, and the horse began to breath heavier. The beast had not the privilege afforded to the man straddling him of removing his fur in the heat. Nira released the reigns once more and tousled the animal's silky mane. The long hairs ran over the webbings of his fingers, before his nails raked across the dry skin of the animal's neck. The witcher leaned so far forward that his medallion rested against the brown haired neck before him. Glinting in the bright sun, it jangled against the thin chain that held it, of its own volition and without prompting by Nira's movements. The witcher sat up in the saddle. Magic had come to use nearby.
His blonde head on a swivel, Nira searched for the originator of the magical blast. There was more foliage surrounding the road, but no thickets that could be hidden within. Not that, of course, any one but a Scoia'tael could conceal themselves within a forest from a witcher's discerning glare. The hills, however, were rising into cliffs and the like ever more. The medallion lay still, the inanimate gaze of the roaring bear it depicted following his own. Coming around between two hills, Nira found himself surrounded by the remnants of a village, the inhabitants of which had been chased out by flame. The bear head vibrated almost imperceptibly against his sternum, reacting to the minute trace of magic still lingering in the air. Clopping rose from beneath him as the horse's shoes impacted a solid stone path rising from the crushed gravel that had lead him here from the banks of the Dyfne. After surveying the scorched remains, Nira lifted his piercing blue eyes ahead of him, as they could now make out the high wall surrounding the Dwarven city.
"Hael, vatt'ghern!" He was accosted by a lyrical voice attempting to sound stern.
"Hael, seidhe!" He replied, bringing his gaze down to the path before him. From the direction of the gate approached a small number of young seeming elves. Two dwarfs, dressed up in similar fashions as their obvious comrades leaned on their axes at the rear. Nira spurred the reluctant horse on towards the sharp eared figures. The lead elf, a tall, wiry specimen with hair of a color that would put Nilfgaardian banners to shame walked defiantly up to the witcher as the rest of his companions surrounded. A squirrel's tail dangled at the back of his hat as he turned his well sculpted face up towards Nira. They held eachother at eye length for a moment, before the Scoia'tael extended a gloved hand. Nira had to lean far down to reach the elven hand from atop his gargantuan mount, but they grasped eachother half way up the other's forearm with respect. A smile cracked the edges of the lower non-human's thin lips. Nira felt the grasp on his arm tighten hard, and he himself wrapped his free hand in the reigns just as the elf ripped downwards.
The witcher flexed every muscle in his body, and hooked his left foot into the underside of the leather saddle. He jerked the reigns in his effort to catch his fall. The horse's head was jerked hard, and it stumbled to the side, knocking the elf from his well planted balance. With the grasp on his arm weakened in surprise, Nira lurched away. As he regained the saddle, his right foot lashed out and caught the elf in the chest. Freed of hand, he tore the top sword from its scabbard and held it high above his head. The lustrous metal flashed in the afternoon sun, casting light over the faces of the elder soldiers around him. Beneath him, the horse tossed and turned, snorting and snarling with surprise. Nira shot a glance at the dwarves further up the path. They held their axes in their short arms across their chests. Confusion marred their bearded faces. Confused, that is, by why their taller comrades were laughing so heartily.
"Hael, Nira." The dark haired elf shouted, between his own laughter, from the ground.
"Hael, Brende." The sword wielding witcher responded.
"Why, vatt'ghern, did you draw your silver?" The elf didn't even try to rise, he was content to rest on the grass.
"Monsters," Nira's seldom used voice came again, "I'm surrounded by them." The rebuttal was met with more elven laughter, their canine-less mouths thrown open carelessly with grins. He threw the weapon down, point first. It slid easily into the moist dirt by Brende's head. The witcher threw his leg over the horse, and leaped down from the saddle onto the stone path. Brende reached out again, and Nira clasped his hand. This time the witcher pulled the elf, and they now both stood on their feet, shaking hands.
"I can recognize that golden mop from miles. It's good to finally see you in the sunlight."
"And without the stench of leaves composting all around."
"Ah, but that is the aroma of the forest. I could spend my life with that sweet odor filling my home."
"You will have to visit me in the desert sometime, where I won't ever smell it again." The elves once again cackled.
"What has brought you all the way to the north of our fair country, my Dh'oine friend?"
"Wishing to see what my efforts have brought. And perhaps the queen that I've helped install."
"You aren't the only vatt'ghern with that claim. The white haired one did much more than you, I could say. You, neither, have been the only one of your caste that we have seen today. Just recently some orange eyed witch man came with a man tied to his horse, calling on Saskia. Her audience has been a popular request this day. By your kind, and that of a stranger sort. A wizard, that is." Nira's ears perked up at the mention. He had his source of magical disturbance. The fact that the medallion still moved around just a bit denoted the fact that his spell had been extremely powerful. "Fuck wizards, I say. Dh'oine dabbling in magic never leads to good things. Just look at that Eilhart bitch." The elf spoke with a hand on Nira's back, as the pair trod on towards the gates. The witcher had sheathed his silver and given up his reigns to an elf who was leading the gelding behind them.
"I can wait," said Nira as they regained the company of the Dwarves, "I have no where to be in a hurry, as long as I have a place to sleep." The elves all patted him on his shoulders, offering him extra bedrolls in the tent village they had set up, and free drinks at The Cauldron.
Any word?
All the more reason to stay in on the computer...
But really, hope you feel better.
But really, hope you feel better.
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