Current
Fuck yeah, girlfriend. Sit on that ass! Collect that unemployment check! Have free time 'n shit!
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4 yrs ago
Apologies to all writing partners both current & prospective. Been sick for two weeks straight (and have to go to work regardless). No energy. Can't think straight. Taking a hiatus. Sorry again.
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4 yrs ago
[@Ralt] He's making either a Fallout 4 reference or a S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Clear Sky reference i can't tell
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4 yrs ago
"Well EXCUUUUSE ME if my RPs don't have plot, setting, characters, any artistry of language like imagery/symbolism, or any of the things half-decent fiction has! What am I supposed to do, improve?!"
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4 yrs ago
Where's the personality? The flavor? the drama? The struggle? The humanity? The texture of the time and the place in which this conversation is happening? In a word: where's the story?
I'm with @Zebanamana when he says, "It [being too OP] is another reason why a lot of my characters recently have trended toward being old or fat or crippled or ugly in some form or another, I am worried about making characters who might be too pretty" [sic]. I feel more invested emotionally in characters who more gracefully resemble flesh-and-blood humanity with all its blemishes and scars, both of body and of spirit. Perfection is boring!
(The other player will probably apply his nobleman tonight.)
Name: Gütta Grimslocke
Age: Early to mid-forties
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance: His forehead is too large, his brow too low-hanging like an overripe, hairy fruit. His pale eyes, stricken with stormy madness, are submerged in their sockets where dark bruise-like rings surround them. He's a shorter man on average, and only barely stocky enough in his build to hold his own against most trained opponents.
Personality:
"The only reason a warrior is alive is to fight, and the only reason a warrior fights is to win." ~Miyamoto Musashi
Gütta hides his vulgar past and his contempt for worthless idealism behind a steely mask of stoicism. Rarely speaking and smiling even less,—though ample smirking is inevitable—he keeps his head down, his mouth shut, and his feet quick and obedient. That head, of course, is the first thing he protects in signs of danger, caring little for the welfare of allies in the first heat of war. Although he is not known ever to have deserted, no one who knows him well (of whom few Knights can be counted) would say it seems beneath him.
Being a small man in stature has forced Gütta to adapt accordingly in war: he fights dirty. His signature weapon, the poleaxe, keeps larger opponents at a distance, and through the years he has learned to strike the perfect balance between stupid courage and unseemly cowardice. In battle he will hold well enough against enemy lines, but few people if any will mark him as a particularly heroic or intrepid specimen. His eyes gleam brighter at thoughts of gold and good liquor than of honor, valor, and duty to realms and deities.
These adaptations have translated too into his personality; he is observant, listening more than he speaks and watching more than he confronts. He is quick to chart people and their motivations, but quicker still to avoid rivalries and profitless conflicts.
He respects powers which are immediate; punishment which is swift and severe. Mercy to him is for people brave enough to start their battles but too weak to end them. This above all is why he admires, and serves, the young nobleman with the white hair.
Brief Backstory: He's tried every dishonorable profession at least once; mudlark, cutpurse, burglar, extortionist, coin-clipper, assassin. Such are the symptoms when desperation infects a man. The scars he carries on his body and in his ego are the proof however that he wasn't made of subtle, sneaky stuffs; one too many floggings soured his appetite for that work. Nay, where he excelled was mercenary work, where he clawed his way through the slapdash ranks by being the smartest, the toughest, and sometimes, startlingly, the most articulated of the bunch.
Only he and the lord themselves know how he came to serve that young boy. Why Gütta respects him, fears him, and even likes him becomes evident soon enough, but when asked for his real raison d'être, Gütta simply says, "He saved me." He acts something like the boy's bodyguard and confidant, although he has too little to teach him to act as a proper mentor or father-figure.
Equipment:
Skills: Combat (mêlée; armed battle, dueling, and pugilism), drinking, gambling (cards and dice), riding, falconry. He throws knives and practices archery, but only for fun, carrying neither into war. He has a sharp eye for counterfeit coins versus genuine mints. Although he only barely knows how to read, his handwriting is exquisite and he has taken to calligraphy as a hobby. He possesses the skills and tools of a barber, cutting his own hair, shaving his own face, and even performing minor surgeries like lancing boils and excavating shrapnel wounds.
He wants to learn magic, even if only minor spells of convenience (e.g. starting fires more easily) are within his grasp; nevertheless the Arcane eludes him.
Appearance: a detailed facial description and a general body description (height, weight, build et al.); including a picture is optional, but they must be of real people. No anime.
Occupation: hard engineering, soft engineering, physician, or geographics; these are the four general schools of job that will feature here. Feel free to specify a particular degree if you wish.
History: a brief description of your character's past, before they began working for the Nat'l Center of Space Research (NCSR)
Misc.: If you really want good chances of being accepted, include a recent writing sample in a hider.
In the genre of Cyberpunk, and perhaps Science Fiction in general, certain themes are prevalent, and, really, endemic: in what other genre is the community so closely connected (by technology), yet also so distant on the personal level? In what other genre are people disposable, and the only way to rebel against one mega-corp is to work for one of its rivals instead? While these questions are interesting and certainly worth exploring, they have already been charted, and like the trailblazers of old, we ought to prefer planting our flags in lands which are not so easily conquered.
So, in wondering how a Cyberpunk story might be enhanced with fresher themes, I found it: what if these disposable people were their own world? What if they were stuck in a small, inescapable space, and had to learn to tolerate, befriend, love, and depend on each other on a more personal level? What if I cut all contact from the world beyond, and forced these expendable people to live intimately, as if they had been transported to a medieval village made of steel and glass?
Thus was Nomads born, and I welcome you all to partake.
Each of you, should you accept, is to be placed within the tight confines of a futuristic, yet quasi-realistic spacecraft, the L.H.M. Ask, complete with food and waste recycling, energy rationing, and zero-G muscular atrophy. You, a scientist at the genius or near-genius level, do not know why you are there when you have awakened; only that you have been in hypersleep for some time, and have been awakened at this particular time to fulfill your purpose. Joining you is EMBLA, a hyperintelligent AI and the pilot of the Ask, its chef, janitor, and other such roles.
This will be a highly minimalist roleplay; if you wish to piece together the purpose of your journey, and your destination, you will ask the right questions, crawl through the right vents, and evade the right suspicions. There will be action, but scarcely; this roleplay is about characters, not plot. The interaction between players will be king.
Distance from earth: 2.751(10^15) miles. Mission: unknown. Good luck.
Because of the minimalist nature of this RP, I understand that the setting can be described only so many times; I do not care about post length. Impeccable spelling and grammar are still necessary.
The usual: no godmoding, no metagaming, no autohitting. Knowing the definitions of these terms is your responsibility.
I am a proponent of freedom of speech. No one will be kicked from the game for starting arguments, or saying anything offensive; though the argument will be forcibly ended if it becomes excessively bitter and personal. You speak entirely at your own risk, because you're on your own if a mod finds your post.
If, for example, a fight breaks out between two characters, I recommend having a neutral "judge" standing by OOC, to determine the outcome of such a conflict. The purpose of this is to avoid godmoding/metagaming, and to ensure that each conflict is played out toward realistic outcomes.
Yes, your character is theoretically at risk of death, if, for example, another crew member has a violent episode. No exceptions are made if you've gotten yourself into a tight situation.
The setting is free for you to expound upon: world events, technological advancements, etc. But keep the tone of the RP in mind at all times while doing this; it ain't Star Wars.
I will edit this page as I think of more details of the world which might come in handy for a player. Any questions you wish to ask on the lore will also be answered here.
There are no known alien races. Despite having more abundant space travel, humanity is still residing primarily on earth, having established colonies extra-terrestrially for the sole purposes of resource extraction (ie. mining).
Weapons, should we need them, will be plausibly designed; no superlasers or photon cannons here.
Cybernetic augmentation ("transhumanism") exists in this universe. Your character might be opposed to these movements; he might be indifferent; or he might have some augs himself. These can include robotic limbs, nanomechanical injections (nutritional, etc.), and other such devices, and I'll accept them on a case-by-case basis.