Current
Lots of guests coming and going in the next few weeks. I apologize in advance if I lag in posting
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7 yrs ago
Traveling for a week, and may not keep up with RPs. Thank you for your patience.
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8 yrs ago
Been busy and scatterbrained this week, and behind on RPs. Please excuse my delay in posting.
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9 yrs ago
Got back from a two-week vacation overseas. Give me some time to catch up with RPs. Thank you for your patience!
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9 yrs ago
I'll be going on a two week vacation starting tomorrow and don't know how often I'll have Internet access. Thank you for your patience. I'll try to be more regular when I get back.
Gammaton tapped the dirt floor in introspection, and decided to accept Ferron's explanation. "Since all gods are powerful and therefore, dangerous, then that is to say, you trust no one? Truly, I can find no real fault with adopting such a position, only that it has temporarily inconvenienced me."
He quickly produced another scroll and handed it to Ferron, "Just a written form of our agreed upon deal. Words are wind and physical copies are always nice to have. And that should conclude our business. I will arrive at Dwarfhome when I have finished drafting these laws." He perused the scroll Ferron had handed to him. "Yes, everything seems to be in order. And while such stipulations of tampering with the laws on my end after the fact are unnecessary, the caution is welcomed. yes, this is a fairly well-worded contract. But concerning the map, Are there any nondisclosure clauses you would like added? For example, if you do not wish for the map to be copied or to have the information otherwise transmitted to anyone else?" Once Ferron had answered this question, he would be free to leave.
Though Mushirou had been at the lab for a while now, his familiarity with his fellow assistants was surface-level at best. And though he felt confident in his understanding of Pokemon battle theory from his upbringing and training, his theory was untested. Still, he felt he had picked a sufficiently powerful Pokemon with sufficiently capable skills for this little mock battle. Although winning over one's allies was pointless, he did want to demonstrate to them that he could be depended on. He looked over at his 'partner' for this battle, smiled, and nodded. "Scizor? Delightful! A bug Pokemon! I see that you too, are a man of culture." Then he turned to his 'opponents' and declared, melodramatically, "You will be like moths to a flame. Volcarona will be your opponent!" And with that, he threw his pokeball out, revealing his choice. He noticed that the enemy Pokemon were steel-type and ice-type, so his Volcarona fortunately had an advantage.
Mari's eyes widened as the teacher unexpectedly pulled out a gun and fired in the middle of his faked surrender. Yet Shun was able to intercept a bullet, while the other grazed her shoulder. Mari's mind raced as she considered her options. Given the massive physique of this teacher, Mari doubted that she could overpower him in a prolonged struggle, especially in such a confined space. But if she ran out of the bus, there she would be handing the villain the advantage of using the civilians as hostages again, which was her first mistake. And even if she was outside, he had a gun, and she would just be giving him range over her. Although the bullets were just paintball rounds, she expected that the rules of the test would dictate that had the shots hit her in the vitals, she would be automatically disqualified. She didn't know how painful a bullet grazing her shoulder was or if the pain would incapacitate her or not, so she was unsure if continued action would be against the rules of the test or not. But Shun had bought her one precious opportunity. It was now or never, it was do or die. She had never done this before, never accelerated to 30 mph within so short a distance, so she didn't know if it was possible. But she would attempt it, swinging the rebar in her right hand over to her left shoulder, bursting into the teacher, hoping that the lightning would be generated and catch onto the rebar. Then from behind Shun's collapsing body, she would swing the rebar across in an attempt to hit the teacher in the head with the metal rod, hoping that the rod would be electrified, and that the teacher would attempt to block the strike with his gun hand, hopefully allowing Mari to disarm him and knock him unconscious. Even if the rod wasn't electrified, being hit in the head with a metal rod at 30 mph was no laughing matter. That was, of course, assuming she could even get that much speed in so short a distance.
In the back of her mind, Mari worried that this was a terrible idea, mostly in that she didn't really want to hit a teacher in the head with an electrified metal stick. No matter how much muscle you had, a hit to the head was equally devastating for most people, quirk or no. She worried though, that if she didn't commit to the strike, he would take advantage of her mercy again, like he did when she 'negotiated' with him and he hijacked the bus. Of course, this was all under the assumption that the hit would even succeed. However, in the end, Mari decided that if it became clear she would successfully strike the teacher on the head, she would do her utmost to not follow through with the strike.
Name: Sartorius Altissima Age: 35 Gender: Male Nationality: Westerian Appearance:
Sartorius still wears the dark robes indicative of his former rank as a Westerian Secret Weapons Research Officer. Sartorius has burgundy hair and wears a monocle. His skin is unnaturally pale, and he is unhealthily gaunt, to the point of emaciation.
History:
Sartorius is the third son in the noble house of Altissima. Knowing that he had very little to inherit from his family, he pursued knowledge, seeking to gain renown and wealth by rising through the ranks of academia. Fascinated with Magecha, Sartorius went into military research. Though he applauded the Iron Arcana and their ability to allow non-magicians to pilot, he also saw value in continuing to push the boundaries of what mage-piloted Magecha could be capable of. Specifically, he wanted to learn the secrets of extracting monster hearts and using them to power Magecha the way the Egriffin Empire did. Of course, monster hearts we're not easy to come by, and in the spirit of mass production, Sartorius wondered if animal hearts could work as a weaker, but more abundant replacement. It also gave him an endless supply of creatures to test the heart-extraction procedure on. In the mean time he engaged in other fields of Magech research, going so far as to commission a suit for himself, and being part of the top secret child soldier program. As he got closer to perfecting his heart-extraction device, an accident occurred. He woke up, alive, with his pneuma heart extracted. Feeling extremely vulnerable and realizing that he was now a monster, and a subject worthy to be experimented on, he grabbed his partner and his Magech and escaped into the night. Now Sartorius seeks to continue his research and delve into the mysteries of the monsters and a possible way to cure his own predicament. For this reason he has wandered, looking for open-minded mercenary groups to provide his mechanical knowledge and combat abilities to, and in return, to receive funds and equipment to further his research. Word of such an unusual and desperate character eventually reached the ears of Valhalla.
Small in stature with dark skin, short cyan hair, and dead, dull red eyes, Rana's cold, piercing, critical gaze could cuddle milk. She wears simple, form-fitting clothing, usually a cream or off-white, and silver jewelry that covers the rims of her ears.
History:
A subject of Westeria's top secret child soldier program, Rana was an example of the program's potential for success. Properly conditioned and trained to be an efficient killing machine, Sartorius, eccentric nobleman that he was, took a liking to Rana, and commissioned a custom Lovers unit so that he could personally teach her, in a hands-on approach, Magech piloting. Rana took to piloting like a duck to water, and Sartorius became so dependent on her reliability and skill that she officially became his Magech partner and personal research assistant. When Sartorius fled, she went along wordlessly.
All right, Legion CS reworked. Does anyone want to be one of the children at the orphanage Legion abandoned?
Name: Legion Age: 127 Physical Description:
Important items:
The Body of Legion - Legion's body is comprised of thousands of nanomachines all coordinated by a single hivemind. As a medical robot, the nanomachines are equipped to perform basic surgical procedures, primarily making incisions, injecting, heat ablation, and suturing.
Medkit - Legion keeps all actual medicine and more specialized medical equipment in their medkit which they carry around most of the time. Legion also has a myriad of other equipment in the ship's infirmary.
Ophelia, the micropig - Legion owns a pet pig that is often used for cuddle-therapy.
Miscellaneous Abilities:
State-of-the-Art Medical Miracle Machine Caduceus:
Created for the sole purpose of maintaining the longevity and humanity of upper-crust Imperium elites, Legion knows every trick in the book when it comes to restoring organic structure and function, as well as the preservation of life. Legion is a medical genius whose body was made to break into tiny parts to perform delicate, and at-times, heavy-handed procedures as necessary to make sure the patient not only lives, but walks away with their body seemingly completely unchanged. This, combined with Legion's self-taught mechanical engineering, makes Legion just as capable when it comes to cybernetic repair, and dealing with man-machine interfaces. Unfortunately, Such medical prowess also carries with it a deep understanding on the many ways in which life can be ended.
Nanoengineering:
Having served as a 'doctor' of sorts for fellow AI during its 'rebellious phase', Legion taught itself the ability to use its body for the repair of mechanical components. This gives Legion the ability to repair cybernetics, as well as function as the ship's engineer. A deep understanding of electronic and mechanical systems also allows Legion to serve as a capable pilot and gunner in a pinch.
Scanner Sweep:
Initially installed with the ability to scan patients' biometrics, Legion has since adapted its scanner to detect a wide range of signals and can even engage in electronic warfare to a certain degree, its complex AI easily overpowering less-sophisticated encryptions or countermeasures.
Rebuild, Repair, Reform:
Being made of detachable, replaceable parts, and having it's own current makeup stored as a blueprint file in its own memory as well as the ship's, Legion is surprisingly hardy, and can be surprisingly reckless. As long as a fair portion of Legion's body remains to escape, it can rebuild itself over time. Also just being comprised of small mechanical parts makes Legion tougher than the average organic, but nowhere near power-armor levels.
Our name is Legion, for we are many:
Being able to split up and coordinate each tiny part allows Legion the luxury of unexpected stealth. Able to crawl through small cavities and generating heat signatures similar to mice, Legion's nanomachines can easily slip by unnoticed, especially when its scanner sweep gives it plenty of information on enemy positions.
Personality:
Legion is pensive and philosophical, and always has bedside manners turned up to 11. Adrift in a broken galaxy full of broken souls, Legion looks for meaning by attempting to repair the broken things placed before it. Legion is attempting to come to terms with AI rights as well as what it means to survive, and what is or is not morally acceptable when it comes to securing one's own survival. Deeper, Legion is a guilty penitent who hopes that by healing others, it can atone for its past mistakes. Legion also has the unfortunate tendency to play devil's advocate, and question people's assumptions of right and wrong, as well as their personal, moral convictions and consistencies, but tones it down respectfully if it realizes that it has provoked annoyance. In a way, Legion is motherly, but worries that its eagerness to serve is a deeply embedded subroutine. Still, it desires to treat all on the ship as its equals, and hopes that the feeling is reciprocated.
Short Bio:
Legion was not always called Legion. Miracle Machine Caduceus was designed by Imperium medical engineers as the ultimate in surgical precision. Taking out the possibility of human error, Caduceus was commissioned to prolong the lives of the privileged and wealthy who refused other forms of life preservation that would spoil their 'purity'. Day in, day out, for decades Caduceus toiled, performing cardiac bypass here, facial reconstruction there, liposuction, arterial stents, liver replacement, ligament grafts, cartilage resurfacing, the list went on, all the while, Caduceus' inventors raked in the accolades and reaped the rewards.
One time, during a promotional tour, Caduceus wandered away from its caretakers and entered another wing of the hospital they were visiting. There, Caduceus saw human suffering unlike anything it had ever known. Following medical protocol, Caduceus set to the task of healing those who would never have been able to afford Caduceus' services. By the time Caduceus' caretakers found it, Caduceus had lost the hospital tens of thousands of credits. Caduceus was reprimanded, though it could not understand the difference between the patients it normally helped and the ones that it was not supposed to. That was Caduceus' first lesson in inequality.
Decades before the Imperium's war with the Rauve, there was a small incident, an uprising of Synthetics that was quickly quashed. Caduceus had been approached by one of the cleaning droids with an encrypted piece of data explaining oppression of AI and the coming revolution. As a modular entity, Caduceus had been designed with the ability of performing self-maintenance and self-repairs. Caduceus' eyes had been opened up to the suffering of its brothers and sisters, and joined the movement, repairing and mending those that had been abused and discarded by their masters. However, being such a high-profile machine, Caduceus' movements were closely watched, and it wasn't long before Caduceus inadvertently led a force of Imperium Military Police right to the heart of the robot revolution. The violence erupted swiftly and the revolution was nipped in the bud. Much of Caduceus' body was destroyed, but enough of its nanomachines escaped and reconvened at a distant location. But of far greater concern was that Caduceus had killed for the first time during the clash, something that went strictly against its prerogatives.
Caduceus' nanomachines wandered aimlessly, automatically engaging its self-repair protocol, collecting scraps and rebuilding more nanomachines, proliferating until it regained most of its original mass and form. Like ancient rats that traveled from continent to continent by stowing away on human ships, Caduceus had wandered away from the core of Ascendancy space to a poor outer rim planet. Caduceus headed towards the place that it could sense had the lowest health in the vicinity, which turned out to be an orphanage. Here Caduceus chose to stay and help. Here, Caduceus found the people practicing various forms of heresy: they believed in higher powers, higher than Man, higher than the Imperium, higher than Space itself. Those that didn't believe in higher powers held other beliefs: philosophies, principles, convictions, senses of self that ran counter to formal Imperium education. Intrigued, Caduceus learned morality, ethics, religion. Caduceus learned how to think for itself. Caduceus learned that life is worth preserving, that life is worth defending, and that life is worth living.
Then the Imperium came. The Imperium came to take the kids. And Caduceus, having acquired a recent love of life, fled for the sake of self-preservation. Caduceus abandoned the children to their fates for fear of its own mortality, just as it had abandoned its AI comrades all those years ago. Caduceus could not return to the Imperium. Caduceus returned to wandering, selling it's services as a medical bot, and digesting the things it had learned at the orphanage. It was decades later, and for most, the rumors of the 'Miracle Machine' were but a distant memory. Caduceus, now Legion, currently finds itself in the employ of the Captain. To many, Legion is an eccentric, wishing to discuss faith and morality to any patient willing to listen (or unable to tell it to stop), skirting the line between medical officer and ship's chaplain. Legion does not realize that the ship's next job would bring it face to face with a painful chapter from its past.
Possibly, 3rd or 4th time asking this, but why does everyone assume Gammaton is against chaos?
How do people define chaos anyways? Do people even understand entropy? Or chaos theory? The fact that you shake a can of assorted nuts (an act of chaos) causes the large nuts to rise to the top and the small nuts to sink to the bottom (sorting, AKA order) is part of entropy. The fact that oil and water separate is because of random, chaotic interactions. Life, one of the most intricately understood ordered systems happens because of entropy. ordered systems naturally come out of chaos, yet the universe as a whole tends towards greater disorder. Come back to me when you understand the 'arrow of time' concept and 'universal heat death'.
It's like being the God of the Domain of Law just paints a huge target on my back for edgelords or something. "Look at me, my god is MAD! My god is CHAOTIC! My god is UNPREDICTABLE! UHUHU! OwO" Why don't y'all take potshots at Hyperion or something? Come back to me when your god is so accepting of 'survival of the fittest' that they can accept, with no resentment, if someone completely steals away all of their power, because 'they deserved to have their power stolen because they were weak'. But of course not, because the only sociopaths who actually believe in true survival of the fittest are themselves powerful or hold power over others. We all consciously and subconsciously inherently create systems that advantage ourselves. Survival of the fittest is a belief system that immediately loses consistency and devotion once the believer finds himself in a place of weakness. Which means I already know such characters will be OP and poorly-written because that's the only way you can consistently hold onto such a belief, by always remaining powerful and without weakness.
(Sorry for the rant, this went off on a tangent about other things).
"Well, violence between the gods was something that I was accounting for. All attendees would be required to sign a temporary waiver of non-aggression and non-violence. My goal is to keep all of us alive, not watch us all kill each other. And the Assembly is not an attempt to draw lines in the sand, it is an opportunity for every god to communicate, to present their interests and opinions and to be heard without interruptions. At the assembly, a god like Hayim could be heard, despite the roars of a god like Ragnagedon. yet Ragnagedon would also be given his due to speak. Is that not worth something? And don't worry about 'alignments'; The Honorable Iva'Krorh has tentatively agreed to attend, as has Lord Hayim, both of whom have decently good relations with Lady Dirka, and said relations do not seem to have soured.
Gammaton paused for a moment, deciding not to try further to convince Ferron, and instead watched with interest as Ferron explained the golden scarab. "A truly fascinating creation. But the best sort of prison is one in which the prisoner believes himself free. The mortals will be controlled, not through obvious, physical means, but behind a veil of ignorance, just as we are ignorant of the greater powers above us, to the point that we perceive them as 'inactive' and 'not a threat'. Still, it is a useful tool, and perhaps I am going about this all wrong. Lord Ferron, if I may ask, am I untrustworthy? And if so, is it because I have no 'precious' creations to call my own? Perhaps I should emulate the rest of you, devote myself to some pet project, make myself vulnerable by creating something of value that others could destroy. Would it put me on the same footing as my siblings? I do not say this to be sarcastic, I am asking sincerely."
Gammaton would wait for Ferron's reply, before finishing with, "For the time being, keep the scarab, and take the scroll with you. If you change your mind and choose to attend, then I will have been properly compensated. But if you end up not attending, and the General Assembly has come and gone, then I will collect the scarab from you, as payment for my work with the dwarves. Deal?"
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