Avatar of Utrax
  • Last Seen: 9 mos ago
  • Joined: 10 yrs ago
  • Posts: 745 (0.20 / day)
  • VMs: 4
  • Username history
    1. Utrax 10 yrs ago

Status

Recent Statuses

9 mos ago
Current Bok Bok I'm An Omen Bok-KAW!
2 likes
2 yrs ago
Birb Scream In Morning As Battery Replacement Alarm Because Birb Not Real.
2 likes
3 yrs ago
Fighting Vagrants Behind Dennys Over Pancake @ 11PM Tonight As Birb.
2 likes
3 yrs ago
BE like bird. Wake in morning. SCREAM at sun. SHIT on enemy.
4 likes
4 yrs ago
Girl is like bird. DO approach calmly. DO greet kindly. DO offer cornchip.
6 likes

Bio


An absolute WILDCARD of an RPer
(apparently)
Due to sudden and multiple very lengthy hiatus periods, please assume I don't remember who you are but, I probably think your name is familiar. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
U T R A X is a being that likes to Type Words on the INTERNET.

Most Recent Posts

Allow me to immediately start some mess.
Guardian 78

Location: Gorbals, Glasgow, Scotland


Initiating Communication_
//Frequency Loop: Good
//Self-Test: Good
//SVS: ERROR_ Unable To Locate GPS
Searching For Signal_
For those that knew of 78's existence, they knew that the Cyborg had a routine. There were times and places that the 78 could be found in, though none knew why they were there nor what they were doing exactly. This was one of those times. More than a few people in the rations line turned their heads toward a small side-street when the time came, their expectant eyes scanning for motion, for they could hear the whirring and soft scraping already.

No, it wasn't the fact that it was loud that helped them hear it, more that it was familiar, distinctive, and just loud enough to pick out from the din of the crowd. When the triad of softly glowing lights appeared at the end of the shadowy side street, a few people began to shuffle about as if getting into formation. With a sigh, a pudgy pink man put an arm around his daughter, and gently moved her along, mumbling, "About that time again."
"Daddy, what do you think it's doing?" Asked the girl.
"Hell if you'll see me askin' it. Jus' stay out the way."

Guardian 78 marched toward the crowd purposefully with mechanical smoothness. A small divide had formed in the crowd, more or less a straight line, that led to something of a clear pocket in the group. 78 usually marched through the line, past the people, uncaring of who they bumped into or what they stepped on. But of course, this was another one of those days that 78 bumped into someone that didn't know the routine. This particular Someone stood in the fairly empty space the crowd had vacated, equal parts oblivious and defiant. He was a man of the light haired and sturdy variety, that looked to be more mass and muscle than common sense, and he did nothing to prove the assumption wrong. 78 came shoulder to shoulder with the man, nearly toppling him.

"What the--" shouted the startled man, "Useless hunk of trash-- hey!" 78 stopped where they stood as the man had moved to block their path. It seemed he was the type looking for any excuse to fight. Such a sentiment was understandable, due to the fact they were all caged like animals, most forced to labor, and people were generally too stressed to properly function. This man, in his "last straw" form of fury, decided to take his aggression out on 78, as an act of foolishness or perhaps bravery. With two hands forward, he gave 78 a shove and two things happened then. First, a few people in the crowd turned their attention toward the brewing conflict, then made sure to spread out further away from it. Second, the man only succeeded in pushing himself back and away from 78, making himself look rather silly, as 78 proved to be as unmovable as a wall in that moment.
Acquiring Target_ SYSTEM CONFLICT
//PACIFIST PROTOCOLS ENGAGED
#CODE 17 ::Hostility Requirements_ Not%Met::
Checking _
78 beeped a low tone twice at the bewildered and suddenly red-faced gentleman. 78's head tilted slightly to the side and they played a recording of the man's voice back, "Useless hunk of trash." His eyes widened and once more he heard himself, through the Cyborg's audio, "Useless hunk of trash." As suddenly sweating man retreated a step, 78 played the audio more slowly, then louder, then a third time with a spliced in audio clip--
"Useless hunk of--SS%Z##Z&ZZT-- Meat."
Hello! If you have any space in this RP, I'd like to join.
Here is my CS for review! Thank you for your time.


Hello! If this RP is still open, I'd like to join.
Here's a character sheet for review. Please tell me if I need to change anything.

I'm here.
I'm just very busy and I try not to post at too high a frequency, whenever I happen to have time to post. I try to pace my posts so that other players don't feel stifled by the sheer amount of UTRAX there is all over things. I try to wait until another player at least has a post out there before I throw mine up, even if they're not congruent stories. I also didn't know if anyone was going to have some reaction to the giant screaming metal bird in the middle of the city before my next post. Soooooo... yeeeeeeah.
If that's full of errors, my bad.
I may have. Mistaken. The thread post editor for my private message Draft Folder Thingy.
My bad.
I'll fix it later. Promise.
Vaia placed her personal affects in a corner of the kitchen in a slow and methodical manner. The kitchen itself was a room about six paces wide and ten paces long. There was a single door into it and this door was perfectly centered between the left and right walls. A large counter was placed in the center of the room, it hosted a flat wooden counter-top and cupboards on both sides. A few hooks were set into the low ceiling, from which to hang herbs and spices for drying, or whatever else it was that cooks liked to hang. Along the left wall there was another counter top with cupboards below it, filled with pots, pans, knives, and eating utensils. A single stove was set into the far right wall and it was a well made cast iron thing, sitting in a single step deep stone square, which hosted enough water to extinguish any accidental flames. Crates and boxes lined the room, housing ingredients, yet unpacked but probably inspected. The room likely felt claustrophobic and small even if the boxes were unpacked, Vaia observed. The ceiling was just barely high enough for her to stand to full height and she knew that most of the taller crew members would have difficulty feeling comfortable here.

Good. To hell with them. They needed to stay out anyway.

There was a stinging within her chest as she looked about the kitchen, one she knew very well-- the sting of her pride. Vaia grit her teeth then clenched her fists tight as she looked about the bare kitchen space. She needed something else to focus on that wasn't her growing distaste for the position she was placed in-- ah, that's right, she needed a place to sleep. Turning to the wall behind herself, which was at the far end of the kitchen, directly across from the door, she took a brief measurement, then figured she could sleep on this bare strip of floor, directly in front of the pantry door. Likely, they would want her sleeping with the rest of the crew. That was fine-- Vaia figured she could justify her presence in the kitchen as both a safeguard and a preparatory necessity. Simple enough. What she would likely have trouble with was if anyone tried to come in at night.

Already Vaia began working out a training regimen for herself. This required people leaving her the hell alone at night and the cost was sleep. There was no way Vaia was going to let her skills dull while being forced to perform bitch-work and she'd be damned if she stayed in this position long enough for someone to want her here. No. If there was one thing Vaia knew, it was that she couldn't stay here for long, and her mere presence here was already burning down her precious tolerance for the position-- but Vaia also knew she wasn't much use now.

When the crew had been told the hoist the sails, she had fumbled. Vaia made no attempt to seem as if she knew what she was doing, but she hadn't fled away from the task or asked for help. She watched and did her best to mimic everyone else's work, but there had been a few ropes tied too loosely or a couple of slip ups here and there-- that other guy? Well, that guy, the one holding her position, at least he knew how to sail. That set him apart from her. That was the main distinction. It wouldn't matter for long, however. Sailing seemed easy enough. Vaia figured that all she needed was practice and she would be able to at least fill his shoes, if not surpass him, in due time. While her position was unfortunate, Vaia began to see it as necessary and that stung her pride even worse than the position itself.

Tense and angry, Vaia decided to examine the contents of the crates, the contents of the small pantry near her "rest area", after she began a fire in the stove. A meal would be needed soon. One that would set the tone for all expectations for her cooking in the future, so it needed to be proper, in her decided kind of way.

Yes, this meal needed to be the most bland of them all.
I'm back from a lengthy trip. I'll read thing now. k.
Okay I'm back now and this didn't take off nearly as fast as I anticipated.
Ok.
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