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Zeus23During my palliative care rotation my mentor basically instructed a family how to euthanize a patient. The guy passed away from a drug overdose later that night.
Penny Member
STATUS: Ethical issues aside, AI prose is just really bad. 18 days ago
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Recent Statuses
18 days ago
Current
Ethical issues aside, AI prose is just really bad.
3
likes
26 days ago
She wanted to read, she wanted to write, but the main thing she wanted was something to fight
4
likes
1 yr ago
Make it clear that you don't need him to be reading Dante tomorrow. Also suggest it would be fun if you had a private language that you could use to mock English speakers in secret.
5
likes
2 yrs ago
Luckily history suggests an infinite ability for people to be shit heads ;)
1
like
3 yrs ago
Achmed the Snake
1
like
Bio
Early 30's. I know just enough about everything to be dangerous.
Most Recent Posts
“Are they chasing us?” Rosaria asked, her voice tight with fear and excitement. What would happen to the girl if they were caught was an open question, she might believe she would simply be returned to Thorne, but Rene suspected that the likelihood was that Bhast’s people would shoot her as an unnecessary complication.
“In a manner of speaking,” Rene agreed, tapping in a series of commands to bring up an image of a freighter, not unlike the Bonaventure lighting its thrusters. The console identified her as the fifteen hundred ton, Midian Star, an armed merchantman recorded as trading with the fringe worlds in the Eastern Cross and the in the Thistle Stars beyond. Whether Bhast had paid or simply commandeered the ship didn’t matter as at present it was of little threat.
“They won’t actually be able to stop us before we are able to jump,” Rene explained, he touched a series of buttons and converted his console from a flat screen to a three dimensional hologram. A series of computer generated courses were picked out in gold, with bubbles for the estimated engagement range for each ship projected in red.
“We have too much of a head start and the rotation of the planet has already carried them several thousand miles out of position. It looks like we are going straight but we are actually breaking against our rotational momentum,” Rene told the girl, his eyes cutting to Solae as he spoke, though his paramour didn’t seem to be having any trouble operating the ship it was absorbing her focus almost completely. He rapidly clicked through the sensor boards. There were a dozen or so other ships in the vicinity but nothing, other than the Star, that was within ten thousand miles of the Bonaventure.
“Did you learn about this stuff in the Marines?” Rosaria asked unexpectedly.
“No, my family has a history of naval service though, I read alot about it as a child,” he explained.
“But you decided to join the Marines?” Rosaria asked, perhaps pleased to have something other than the fact they were being chased to occupy her. Rene glanced over to where the two Shyshin sat peering at the humans with concern. It wouldn’t help establish Solae’s credibility if he explained exactly how he had arrived at his present position so instead he merely shrugged.
“Its a long story,” he equivocated, watching the course plots scroll across the screen.
“We will reach minimum safe jump distance in sixty seconds,” Mia announced with breathy anticipation. Rene smiled slightly, he found he missed the AI’s inappropriate tones while he was on the ground on Zatis. Another indication that humans could become used to anything.
“The Midian Star is firing its weapons,” Mia observed without concern. Rene glanced at the screens to see the electromagnetic spikes of a plasma cannon discharge. Most vessels carried some kind of armament to discourage pirates. Most frequently this was a small plasma cannon or in the case of extremely poor captains a pod of guided rockets. Neither of these options was a real weapon in a naval sense ant the Stars captain was firing out of frustration rather than any chance of scoring a hit. They were nearly twenty thousand miles distant and even without an atmosphere to scatter the bolts, even a direct hit would be so diffuse by the time it reached them that it wouldn’t be noticeable. Rene glanced at the scopes a final time. Nothing had changed. Part of him expected the Decameron to emerge from behind on of Zatis’ moons, blocking their escape. It was all too easy to imagine the enemy as perfectly competent and incapable of making a mistake, which sending the courier vessel back to Traulus Major certainly had been. Rene found himself smiling. If the enemy could make mistakes, it meant they could be beaten.
“We have reached minimum safe jump range,” Mia announced.
“Jumping,” Rene declared and reached down and pressed the execute button. The starfield in front of them shimmered and then the Bonaventure leaped forward into the unknown.
“In a manner of speaking,” Rene agreed, tapping in a series of commands to bring up an image of a freighter, not unlike the Bonaventure lighting its thrusters. The console identified her as the fifteen hundred ton, Midian Star, an armed merchantman recorded as trading with the fringe worlds in the Eastern Cross and the in the Thistle Stars beyond. Whether Bhast had paid or simply commandeered the ship didn’t matter as at present it was of little threat.
“They won’t actually be able to stop us before we are able to jump,” Rene explained, he touched a series of buttons and converted his console from a flat screen to a three dimensional hologram. A series of computer generated courses were picked out in gold, with bubbles for the estimated engagement range for each ship projected in red.
“We have too much of a head start and the rotation of the planet has already carried them several thousand miles out of position. It looks like we are going straight but we are actually breaking against our rotational momentum,” Rene told the girl, his eyes cutting to Solae as he spoke, though his paramour didn’t seem to be having any trouble operating the ship it was absorbing her focus almost completely. He rapidly clicked through the sensor boards. There were a dozen or so other ships in the vicinity but nothing, other than the Star, that was within ten thousand miles of the Bonaventure.
“Did you learn about this stuff in the Marines?” Rosaria asked unexpectedly.
“No, my family has a history of naval service though, I read alot about it as a child,” he explained.
“But you decided to join the Marines?” Rosaria asked, perhaps pleased to have something other than the fact they were being chased to occupy her. Rene glanced over to where the two Shyshin sat peering at the humans with concern. It wouldn’t help establish Solae’s credibility if he explained exactly how he had arrived at his present position so instead he merely shrugged.
“Its a long story,” he equivocated, watching the course plots scroll across the screen.
“We will reach minimum safe jump distance in sixty seconds,” Mia announced with breathy anticipation. Rene smiled slightly, he found he missed the AI’s inappropriate tones while he was on the ground on Zatis. Another indication that humans could become used to anything.
“The Midian Star is firing its weapons,” Mia observed without concern. Rene glanced at the screens to see the electromagnetic spikes of a plasma cannon discharge. Most vessels carried some kind of armament to discourage pirates. Most frequently this was a small plasma cannon or in the case of extremely poor captains a pod of guided rockets. Neither of these options was a real weapon in a naval sense ant the Stars captain was firing out of frustration rather than any chance of scoring a hit. They were nearly twenty thousand miles distant and even without an atmosphere to scatter the bolts, even a direct hit would be so diffuse by the time it reached them that it wouldn’t be noticeable. Rene glanced at the scopes a final time. Nothing had changed. Part of him expected the Decameron to emerge from behind on of Zatis’ moons, blocking their escape. It was all too easy to imagine the enemy as perfectly competent and incapable of making a mistake, which sending the courier vessel back to Traulus Major certainly had been. Rene found himself smiling. If the enemy could make mistakes, it meant they could be beaten.
“We have reached minimum safe jump range,” Mia announced.
“Jumping,” Rene declared and reached down and pressed the execute button. The starfield in front of them shimmered and then the Bonaventure leaped forward into the unknown.
@Callousqueen -29
Not when we are such effective allies!
Not when we are such effective allies!
In
Recollections: The Fourth Seal [Mystery/Urban-Fantasy/Horror RP]
→
7 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Clara sat in the front seat of her prius her hands still glued to the wheel. She had been siting long enough that the little engine had cooled to the temperature of the chill January air. The church wasn't visible from the trail head where she parked, though she had intended to drive directly to it her courage had failed her at the last moment. Finding an alternate approach was a convenient excuse to delay the moment of truth for a few more minutes. It was crazy to be doing this. Literally insane. She glanced down at the phone for a final time making sure it was really there and it wasn't some sort of hallucination. The text still showed on the screen, silent and accusing.
"Ok," she breathed and, with some difficultly, pried first her left hand and then her right from the wheel. It grew easier to move now that she had taken a symbolic step. Pulling her coat around her body she opened the door and climbed out, snow crunching under her winter boots. The trees were hung with the remnants of old snow that gave them a poxed and leprous look, though she knew that to be her mind flavoring the scene rather than any real omen or menace. Reaching into her hand bag she brushed her hand across the rubberized grip of the tazer she had carried when she was in New York. It had taken her an hour to dig out of her storage before she came her, she never imagined she would need it in a quiet place like Araminta. So much for that assumption.
Clara's breath steamed in front of her as she pushed through the last of the pines to reach the church. It was clear she wasn't the first to arrive, a fact that relieved her considerable. It had been just possible that she had been the only one to receive the message, that it was part of some elaborate ruse designed to lure her here. That theory, though seductively dramatic, lacked the practical driver of logic. She was nobody in the grand scheme of things, an over qualified lecturer at a small regional university, there was no reason to lure her here. Except, clearly, somebody saw a reason. Somebody considered her to be a ghost, and she wanted to find out why. Why had she lived when the moths had swarmed and carried off the others. Why was she receiving mysterious text messages. Her whole life had been spent rationalizing the strange and arcane. In her secret heart she had wished that just one ritual or occult secret would prove to be more than allegory. This was her chance. Steeling her nerves she stepped through the door and into the church.
Amanda and another man, Archie the mechanic she thought, stood inside. The cop seemed tense and Clara hastily drew her hand from her bag so both were in clear view. Clara didn't like police, it was a profession that seemed to attract the worst people and bring out the worst in the good ones. Admittedly Amanda was easy on the eyes. She had a momentary fear that this was some sort of elaborate police sting, but that didn't make sense. What was she guilty of? Receiving strange text messages.
"H..hello," she said, somewhat diffidently, "I received a text..."
"Ok," she breathed and, with some difficultly, pried first her left hand and then her right from the wheel. It grew easier to move now that she had taken a symbolic step. Pulling her coat around her body she opened the door and climbed out, snow crunching under her winter boots. The trees were hung with the remnants of old snow that gave them a poxed and leprous look, though she knew that to be her mind flavoring the scene rather than any real omen or menace. Reaching into her hand bag she brushed her hand across the rubberized grip of the tazer she had carried when she was in New York. It had taken her an hour to dig out of her storage before she came her, she never imagined she would need it in a quiet place like Araminta. So much for that assumption.
Clara's breath steamed in front of her as she pushed through the last of the pines to reach the church. It was clear she wasn't the first to arrive, a fact that relieved her considerable. It had been just possible that she had been the only one to receive the message, that it was part of some elaborate ruse designed to lure her here. That theory, though seductively dramatic, lacked the practical driver of logic. She was nobody in the grand scheme of things, an over qualified lecturer at a small regional university, there was no reason to lure her here. Except, clearly, somebody saw a reason. Somebody considered her to be a ghost, and she wanted to find out why. Why had she lived when the moths had swarmed and carried off the others. Why was she receiving mysterious text messages. Her whole life had been spent rationalizing the strange and arcane. In her secret heart she had wished that just one ritual or occult secret would prove to be more than allegory. This was her chance. Steeling her nerves she stepped through the door and into the church.
Amanda and another man, Archie the mechanic she thought, stood inside. The cop seemed tense and Clara hastily drew her hand from her bag so both were in clear view. Clara didn't like police, it was a profession that seemed to attract the worst people and bring out the worst in the good ones. Admittedly Amanda was easy on the eyes. She had a momentary fear that this was some sort of elaborate police sting, but that didn't make sense. What was she guilty of? Receiving strange text messages.
"H..hello," she said, somewhat diffidently, "I received a text..."
In
Gumshoe and Femme Fatale - A tale of silver-screen intruige and pulp-action
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7 yrs ago
Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
I changed her up at the last minute, but I'm very pleased with her so far!
Also there is literally nothing wrong with elitism especially in a goddamn hobby like RP
As someone who looks down on nearly everyone, and especially upon @Andreyich, I agree.
In
Gumshoe and Femme Fatale - A tale of silver-screen intruige and pulp-action
→
7 yrs ago
Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
January Endicott
Name: January Endicott
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Occupation Dilettante
Appearance: January is a striking young woman with fair skin to contrast her dark hair and eyes. Lithe and graceful she personifies the grace and opulence of the decade, embracing the new era of prosperity and the loosening of cultural mores that go with it. Equally at home riding on a country estate or attending a society ball January always dresses in the latest style.
Personality
Ephemeral, mercurial, romantic, adventuress, vindictive, January is everything one might expect of a scion of a rich and influential east cost family. She is also worldly in a geographic sense, having traveled widely with her father in her youth. There is a wildness and rebellious spirit to the girl that has thus far thwarted her mothers ambitions to find a truly appropriate marriage for the girl.
Every inch the ingenue, January expects others to jump to fulfill her whims and if they do not is quite capable of whealding, deceiving or otherwise manipulating them into doing her will.
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