Inkdrop

Multiverse Exhibit

Thank you. Im trying not to be rude because I understand how you tried to make your character funny and it's just silly to bring vitriol against an RPer unless they are intentionally being a moron.

Stranded in the Stars (Sci-Fi Survival)

Okay. We'll skip you this turn then. People can join at any time, since there are plenty of cryopods aboard.

Multiverse Exhibit

Darkhunter saw the reaction he triggered in Ib, and he felt his heart sink almost immediately. He listened to Alfonzo, sure. The cat's ears swiveled and twisted to pick up his voice, but his main focus was Ib. She was just a kitten... he nosed at her back gently, muttering, "I'm sorry, Ib..." He peered down at her with a sorrowful face, sighing. A moment of thought. He lay himself down and wriggled up to her back with his flank flush against her back at as many points as possible, looking sort of like an overgrown house cat in the process. Darkhunter nuzzled at her, then replied to Alfonzo without moving from his position. He spoke softly now, belying the thunderous shout he had just unleashed. With his tail draped over Ib's side, he told Alfonzo, "How can I be real and not be at the same time, skin-thing? The point you raise is infinite and silly... we could talk for moons about who is real and who is fake, but, you have to realize how fake you look to me. I have never seen such silly creatures. Such exposed skin, blunt teeth, and such an awkward stance. Just looking at the way you teeter upon two legs makes me want to fall." he shifted a little, sighed, and continued, "I do hope this is a dream, Alfonzo, but I am not counting on it, and perhaps you shouldn't either. I keep hoping that any second I will blink my eyes open to Nightspirit or Starfall's heavenly faces with their tongues dabbing at my cheeks, concerned for me because of my thrashing in a nightmare. I can't tell you how much I hope that is the scenario." Another pause, a swallow, then more, "But... if that is not the case, if I truly have simply vanished, I need to find a way back to my lands, my forest, and my pride." He just then noticed the other female, crouching near them. He raised his head and looked over the young girl to the older female, telling her, "I am sorry if I startled you as well. I... lost my temper, and I apologize deeply for it." He didn't wait for forgiveness and lay his head down again once he was done talking. His tail tip was flicking to and fro every few seconds, but besides that, the jaguar lay still next to Ib. The screaming from across the room was hurting him, but he was afraid of hurting her more if he tried to use a psychic power on her. He already was slightly numbing Ib's hearing to protect her from the racket in the room.

Multiverse Exhibit

Honestly, I don't like the way SgtEasy's character is. He's distracting from everything related to the art hall and I feel he is godmodding because he's implanting all these memories and using all kinds of psychic powers to make people go mad. It's like he has hijacked the RP. Honestly, I'd like it if he was nerfed a little, because all of my posts are just responding to the hell he's raising. I doubt the entity behind this art hall would allow it anyways.

The Amazing Race

Cmon, I want this to happen, if only so I can play a Murdoch-esque character.

Stranded in the Stars (Sci-Fi Survival)

If my reply isn't long enough I'll happily extend it, I wasn't quite sure.

CLIW

No, no, you're fine.

Multiverse Exhibit

The things that happened when the human attempted to slip past the wall caused a look of intense alarm to pass over Darkhunter's face. He had never seen anything like that before... he began to creep towards that spot in the wall, peering at it intensely. Some chatter happened and one of the cat's ears flicked, but he kept up his intense gaze on the area. He was trying to see if that wall was still... just a wall. Faintly, his spots and his eyes glowed, but he couldn't glean anything. He blinked a couple of times and the glow faded. Darkhunter turned around, paused, then followed Alfonzo. He did a little trot to catch up, then sat down next to him, looking up, "Look... Alfonzo... you won't help anyone with denial. You'll never simply wake up out of this... I do not think it is a dream..." The cat was sent sprawling as some sort of creature dropped into the room and made such a racket that Darkhunter had to press his paws against his ears to try and save them. He was in so much aural pain that he could hardly even think, let alone talk, but the cat only took so much before he stood up. The rosettes covering his body glowed with a bright, white light. A similar light emitted from his eyes, turning them into solid glowing orbs. He roared at Ghazghkull with the loudness of a rather violent thunderclap, shaking the walls if at all possible. It was a roar that would be a lion to total shame. The luminescence of the feline continued and he started yelling, "WILL YOU PLEASE CUT OUT THAT AWFUL RACKET?" It was like the voice of God was booming around the room. The glow faded slowly. Darkhunter panted softly while his still glinting eyes tried to burn holes in Ghazghkull. Figuratively, of course.

Duck's ahistorical Funhouse - A RP set in 2015 where history has been completely turned upside down.

I fiddled with my country a little but I don't think I made much progress.

Stranded in the Stars (Sci-Fi Survival)

IC is up. Start the post order.

Stranded in the Stars (Sci-Fi Survival)

November 10, 2086 The SS Terra, a majestic, nine hundred and fifty foot cargo liner, slowly left Earth in her wake. Her huge engines glowed as the superheated plasma was vented from them in bright blue plumes, slowly accelerating her to nearly light speed. Off to one side, her port side, was the older liner named Edmund Fitzgerald II. She was about eight years older than the five-year-old Terra. Above the Terra, so to say, was the Dynasty, an ugly cargo freighter. The two ships were opposites. The Edmund Fitzgerald was a long, sleek ship shaped like a capsule, with flat sides, rounded belly and back, and a rounded nose. You could say she looked a little like Thunderbird II. She was a bright yellow and white with racing stripes painted down her sides... that was typical of her line. The Comet Transport Company prided themselves on speed. Terra was by no means slow, but the Big Fitz was already pulling out ahead of her. The Dynasty was no such speed demon. She had an ugly, pyramid-shaped nose, with a long, spindly neck extending back to Siamese twin engine pods. On that spindly neck, multi-colored rectangular cargo pods were arranged in triangle formation around it, attached by thin stalks. She was painted a light olive green. Terra herself was a citrus orange and white. This was not a good day, of course. The Big Fitz' namesake had sunk on this date, centuries ago, with no survivors and no bodies. Her sinking was still a mystery... this was dismissed as ridiculous superstition. Edmund Fitzgerald II was certainly not cursed... well... sort of. The champagne bottle had never broken over her bow. They had tried and tried, and it took five times before it broke. Now she was sailing on the date of her namesake's death. The Captain of the Terra wasn't even thinking of this, or how far behind Dynasty was falling. She was the slowest by far, and the ugliest, and the smallest. Terra was the largest, with the Fitz being a little smaller. On her high-tech bridge, the officers of the Terra chatted and conversed quietly. Terra herself, or at least her holographic avatar, sat in the Helmsman's chair. The anthropomorphic jaguar, dressed in a light purple robe right now, hummed "Drunken Sailor" as she gently tugged and pulled on the control levers. All of this was a clever illusion. Terra didn't have to use her steering levers but... she was known to be a little eccentric. A few of the younger sailors ogled at the female. The avatar was quite fair. Slender, subtle curves, perfectly rounded breasts and rump, a serene expression on her soft, smoothly-sculpted face... Terra was proud. The happiness did not last. The communications officer, bent over his console, pressed his headset into his ear. The young, dark-skinned man stood up and called, "Sir! Edmund Fitzgerald II, reporting engine troubles. She may have to turn back." Captain Tesla simply nodded and smiled. He was an aging man from Canada, starting to decline from youth at the middle age of sixty. He was very skinny and pale. His uniform seemed like it struggled to hug to him. He didn't seemed concerned and instead just watched the other ship slowly drop by the window... until... why was she getting closer? Tesla jumped up from his seat, "Comms! Tell the Fitz to back off!" The Lunan comms officer, pale as a ghost and with a skeletal structure made from toothpicks, relayed the message into his microphone. He listened again, "Sir! Their helm is not responding!" Tesla turned to yell at Terra, "Terra! Evasive maneuvers!" She looked over at him, panic on her face, "I-I can't get control, sir, my own body isn't doing anything." Tesla looked out of the window again, then turned to the Russian engineer with a royal purple uniform, "Get the controls back!" With his thick accent, the Russian said he would do his best... but something happened then. A huge explosion rocked the Edmund Fitzgerald II. A miniature supernova ripped her engine bays to shreds and consumed the fragments in a rapidly-expanding fireball. The shockwave rocked the Terra and set off her general alarm as objects fell off of shelves and she rocked violently. The bridge crew nearly fell out of their seats. The Fitzgerald rolled over and over, in a death spiral now, trailing vapors and flames from the wrecked engine pod, still approaching her sister ship. She was screaming a mayday now. Terra scanned her. One of her reactors had suffered an alpha-mode failure, and the other three were not far away. Terra screamed, "BRACE FOR IMPACT!" Just before the other three reactors went up in quick succession. The Fitz was incinerated. Terra was tossed off in the opposite direction with her frame creaking and groaning under the stress. Small fragments of the once great Edmund Fitzgerald II peppered the Terra, smashing huge indents into her armor and slicing through in some places. Alarms rang from the various consoles and the alerts on the touchscreen mounted to the Helmsman's console lit up like a Christmas tree. Terra still did not have control of herself. She was drifting out of control, at cruising speed. "Abandon ship!" The alarms rang and changed their tone. The Muster Alarm. A beeping, mournful tone. Passengers, those who hadn't been killed or injured, looked around in shock. The evacuation took nearly an hour, but there was bad news when they went to look at the cryopods. All dead. The Captain looked at the jaguaress avatar of his ship, and said, "Stay here, Terra, we'll send someone for you." As soon as he left, the monitors on the cryopods returned to normal, and so did Terra's readings on them. It was too late to call back the rescue crew. She found that her communications arrays had gone down too, somehow. She settled in for a long wait. ----------------------- Much Time Later Terra wandered her wrecked halls, blinking tears out of her eyes as she gazed into the derelict rooms and unused recreational areas. This had been a thriving place once. Now, she had no one but herself, staring at her own wrecked body. She could feel the memories that were out of reach, lost in corruption from neglect and damage to her computer core. She couldn't remember what had happened, or where her crew went. Thankfully, all of the holographic projectors that put out her hard hologram were still working. She flickered out of existence, then flickered back in, standing next to Reactor Two. It was slowly leaking molten fuel and control rods, bathing the shielded room in the blue glow of radiation and the orange glow of the lava. The hellish concoction flowed out of a crack in the metal cylinder that was the reactor vessel... this steam-filled room had enough radiation to kill someone five times over, but she was safe, since she was nothing more than light and sensor data. She shook her head as she watched the slow loss of one reactor. She had tried to save it, but it was now in a runaway state, slowly melting itself. She re-appeared again, this time on the observation lounge. The AI sat down and stared at the crypods from a luxurious leather-bound couch, just one of many dotting the observation lounge that ran along her own keel. It was an oval-shaped blister that extended from the great white ship's broad belly with floor-to-ceiling windows and two spiral staircases up into the first deck. The walls were paneled with wood, wonderfully dark oak that gleamed under the dim emergency lighting. The floor was some sort of dark grey carpet which muffled footsteps and felt wonderful underfoot, if one was barefoot. The cruise ship's avatar stared and stared, seemingly oblivious to the mournfully howling horns and slowly spinning beacons. Their yellow beams would occasionally cast themselves upon the jaguar, then onto the frosted metal tubes, then they would continue their journey around the room again. Outside the windows was the desolate rock by the name of Ceres on one side, and a field of asteroids to the other. The dim sun was behind Terra's broad stern, and the unknown void lay beyond her spade-shaped nose. Terra was projecting a hard hologram avatar of herself onto the couch, an anthropomorphic jaguaress with a white tunic and a flowing skirt. The female was fairly tall, standing at around five feet nine, with graceful, slender body lines and a nearly perfect face. She was dressed almost like she had come from ancient Rome. Her memory was spotty and failing, however. Sometime, in the past, something had happened to the ship. Something had struck the 950 foot long Terra, taken her crew and passengers, and left her wounded in the inky blackness. Her computerized mind slowly worked as she stared at the pods with a tilted head. Finally she sat up and approached the metal cylinders with their tinted glass, raised a hand, and started the defrost sequence. She stepped back and stood ramrod straight in parade fashion, her clothes flickering out of existence, then re-appearing as her uniform, with white trim. She waited for her chosen subjects to thaw, then said, "Welcome to the Terra! Excuse the mess." --------------------------- Remember the post order!