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IconicAI
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DDD

Dataset card Data Studio Files Files and versions Community

Split (1)

train · 56.6k rows

index int64 0 56.6k	thread_id int64 0 1.54k	message_id int64 0 752	author_id int64 0 2.81k	author_num_posts int64 2 36k	message stringlengths 0 134k	character stringlengths 0 110k
49,302	1,332	0	1,032	421	Bang. Bang. Bang bang bang— It had been two days since Captain Ray had vanished, and Commander Mason had been working on this damn machine for just as long. Half of her was deep into the guts of the main replicator, her legs sticking out into the air. Technically, this shouldn’t be her job—there were a few junior engineers who were passably skilled—but dammit, crawling around in machines was stress-relief, and the whole damn crew was stressed. Everything would be back to normal soon, though, right? Bang bang bang bang bang crack. With a satisfied shout, Maggie pulled out of the replicator, rolling up her tools and wielding her wrench like a trophy. The replicator started whirring again, all of the lights that had previously been red showing up green. Packing her things away with one hand, she input a command with the other, and by the time her tools were away, the makings of a truly glorious BLT sandwich were before her. “Munch away, kiddies,” she called over her shoulder to the hungry assembled crewmembers, eyes alight with unholy glee as she started putting together a sandwich fit for a king. “But stay the fuck away from my sandwich or I’ll have your doorbells playing Space Jam at three in the morning.” Yup. Things could go right back to normal.	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,303	1,332	1	2,338	426	Vas yawned loadly into his terminal, stretching his arms as far as the crampted clusterfk formally known as "the bridge" would allow, and then some. The Warock cracked his neck, releasing a wet sweet crack that he'd replicated almost ten times just today. He was beyond bored. Months ago he was on the frontline of his home system beating alien birds to a bloodied pulp, and this is what he chose to do instead for the rest of his enlistment. "Join up with the Union they said," Vas muttered as he scrolled through some news sites back home. Cost of living was going up and he had to prepare on moving back to the city after all of his. Small apartment down near Hygin Park in Dele City maybe. Shitty area but he'd lived in worse. "You'll get to relax they said. Work on your social skills they damn said. Too much field work they said! Workaholic with a license to kill!" Vas could feel the person working next to him give him a confused look. Humans were easy to read. Fleshie bastards poured out pheromones and little noises like animals. Vas could literally hear the guy's heart changing beats better then some medical equipment. "Sorry," the Warock muttered, "fking getting, what do humans call it, 'cabin fever'."	NAME (Clan Name, Given Name): Rockland Vas RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Pilot, Navigator AGE: 234 years old, or 54 compared to human biology. GENDER: Male RACE: Warock - Warocks are sentient carbon-based life forms from the planet Chernohaz, a hazardous world constantly being ravaged by sandstorms. All Warocks are blind, evolving past the need for eyes and use gills located near the base of their necks to breath and use other senses to "see". All Warocks also have rough, rock-like exoskeletons that makes them tough beings. Politically, Warocks trade and are allied with most species. They are allied with The Union. SHORT BIO: Rockland Vas, (who just prefers Vas), is a former fighter pilot and special agent of the Warock Military. In his earlier years, Vas would pilot solo missions for his military or work on the ground for joint operations against the Saerans and rogue forces in his home system. After years of decorated service, Vas took an easy job aboard the USS Audacia as the ship's new navigator. Vas would never retire fully from service, but taking this gig felt like R&R compared to shit he's had to do in the past. PERSONALITY: Dry humored Uninterested Nonsocial Easily tempered Womanizer Talents: Hard worker Military Training Ace Fighter Pilot Trained Navigator Alien Exoskeleton Survival Training Flaws: Cannot "see" Harsh demeanor Stubbornness Anti-social Easily tempered Womanizer
49,304	1,332	2	580	1,924	New message from: Bridge New message from: Cafeteria Alert!: User found accessing unauthorized material Warning!: Server nearing stress level maximum New task from Maintenance: Reboot hangar door control Reminder: Status report to Commander Mason to be sent Alert!: Server stress level at 95% "Zariana, please help." Amy mumbles, tapping quickly on her console. Ever since Captain Ray had gone missing, some sort of 'command council' had been erected, yet Amy still didn't really understand who was in true command. She just followed orders. Halfway through writing a reply message to the cafeteria, another alert popped up. Alert!: Server stress level at 99%! Resetting! Amy brang her fist down on her desk loudly, causing the Neural Networks assistant to look at her sadly. He, too, had been in the process of writing something when his screen had winked off. This happened for the two of them, however for the other computers, all of which would be connected to the network, would fail to access the database of the ship. The server was state-of-the-art, built to sustain a lot of load, however the massive rate of message influx had just decimated it. After a few minutes, Amy went back to typing her message, before working on her report to Commander Mason. It simply was a mail with several attachments of files, and a note about the server crash. Dear Commander Mason On this file are attached files of reports from individual departments. I have to forward them to you, as the administrative head does not want any more reports. He got fed up again. On a major side note, the server crash we just encountered a few minutes ago was not a fault on the neural networks department. We are receiving a massive message influx, of which ninety percent is not to be sent to us. Everyone is nuts. Regards Amy Skydawner Neural Networks Administrator With a deal of hesitation, Amy sent a copy to her department head as well, before she started to sort through other messages with her assistant.	NAME: Yam Yaskradawne (Amy Skydawner) RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Neural Networks operator - A neural networks operator controls administrative things, and sorts out things. If someone sends a report of a pipe needing repaired, the operator would organised a repair team to be sent. They also control things such as the ship's internet, viewing security cameras and monitoring what the crew does and making sure that they don't do anything breaking laws or restrictions. They have access to all of the machines, so they can check status, and help with things such as robotic refueling of fighter craft, etc. The Neural networks operator carries around an Admin Deck to interface with the ship if they are away from their terminal. RACE: Zenohunt (allied with Union, however with seperate fleets and militaries) - Zenohunts are human, however they have a mixed variety of what appears to be almost Earth animal features. Some may have the tail of a dog, others may have the ears of a cat. Only a tiny percentage have wings, and an even smaller percentage of them can actually fly. For this, Zenohunts are often reffered to as the 'alternate universe of Humans', of DNA that could mix with that of animals. In truth, nobody knows how Zenohunts came to be alike the Earth species. Some tribes of Zenohunts think Zariana chose for them to be that way. Zariana is the god of all Zenohunts. She watches over them, and blesses them, ensuring they are well. Zenohunts never left their home system when they gained space technology. There were only three planets in their star system, Lemea, Popel and Candor, along with many, many asteroids, both individual and in varying sizes of belts, though the only major cities would be found on Lemea. Those two cities are the only two cities that are left untouched in the endless Zenohunt war. Ehop and Yasanctuar (Hope and Sanctuary, in English) will forever remain the two only cities in Zenohunt territory. Asteroids and planets are not the only thing that you would find in the Zenohunt star system. Upon arrival, one would gasp at the sheer amount of ship debris in the system. Countless bases hidden in the asteroids showed that the Zenohunts were unmovable from their system. If a mysterious ship were to show up, it would die by either a Zenohunt battle group or by a hidden weapons platform, dug deep into an asteroid. The only reason that Humans survived when they arrived was because they came upon one of the more civilized of Zenohunt groups. Peace was agreed toward the Humans, however Zenohunts still battled eachother frequently because of disputes and other matters. Zenohunts speak 'Zenospeak', however they began learning English as well once Humans came along. One of the main facts of Zenohunts is that they are taught what they want to be when they are older from a very young age. If a child says, "Mommy, I wanna be a police man when I'm older", guess what? He's probably going to end up in a security role. If some little girl watches to much news and TV and says "Daddy, I want to work with MTA cannons!" They'll be working either as a gunner or tactical weapons officer on a ship. Something frowned upon by other races is that yes, Zenohunts train their young to be what they first said without a change of mind, however Zenohunt young will literally be what they want at a young age, or be something similar. For example, a Zenohunt learning to be a gunner will probably have the chance to be a Coota (one of various Zenohunt vehicles. Specifically, a Coota is a small vehicle that is literally a car with a machine gun on it. Young gunners use those as they require very little experience to use.) gunner at the age of fourteen. Obviously, higher roles, such as manning a tank, will require an older age and/or a lot more training. AGE: 19 GENDER: Female This image, however, she has the ears of a grey wolf, and the tail of a grey wolf. SHORT BIO: Amy was born in Yasanctuar, so she was safe from a lot of the fighting that happened occasionally on Lemea. However, this sanctuary didn't go on for long. "I want to be a computer lady on a ship flying through space!" That sentence sentenced her to training in the navy. At fifteen years old, with a final exam passing of 90%, she was flown to space and stationed on a frigate in the Yasanctuar navy. From that point on, she went ship hopping, one time because of a promotion to Ensign, another time because of an attack that ended up with her ship being damaged to the point where personnel were forced to use their escape cells, but mainly just because of re-assignment, even to Union ships. That eventually ended up with her being stationed on the USS Audacia. PERSONALITY: +Friendly +Supportive =+Tries to socialize =Slightly shy =-Easy to frighten =-Slightly upsetable -Gets angry to those who speak badly of Zenohunt religion toward Zariana TALENTS/FLAWS: +Able to manage her role well +Formal during work-time +Trained in hand-to-hand and short-range weapon combat =-Has mood shifts every-so-often -Tends to attack if threatened
49,305	1,332	3	1,032	421	Maggie had the sandwich halfway to her mouth when her datapad chimed. She paused, looking over slowly, when the chimes started to sound every few seconds. Snarling curses under her breath, she leaned out of the way of the flood of crewmen to the replicator and snagged the pad, bringing it over while she chowed down and made her way out of the caf. Attached files...administrative head being a bitch as usual...server crash...blah, blah, blah, the ship was falling to shit because they lacked proper leadership, she KNEW, alright? Mason sighed, sending off a quick reply to Skydawner—heading to server room now, going to try and reroute power, meet there pls—before changing her course. The server overload was just one more thing on her list of shit to get done, and fast—a panicking crew was a crew that broke stuff. A lot of stuff.	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,306	1,332	4	580	1,924	Amy pressed enter, sending a reboot command to the hangar doors. A moment later, there was a beep and a green box appeared on the screen. Amy sighed out loud as she closed the box. At least that job was done. There was another chirp, a direct message to her. Amy's eyes fluttered tiredly. She swore, if it was someone else asking if someone could be sent to repair the coffee maker, Zariana have mercy... Heading to server room now, going to try and reroute power, meet there pls Amy smiled, and typed a reply of two words. Yes, ma'am. She let the assistant know where she was going, before she moved into the next room, taking her Admin Deck with her. Due to the link between the servers and the Neural Networkers that monitored them, they were literally seperated by a single door. She scanned her keycard on the door, which released a chime as she was granted access into the room. She stepped in, and stood, waiting for the arrival of the officer. She continually checked her uniform to ensure it was okay.	NAME: Yam Yaskradawne (Amy Skydawner) RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Neural Networks operator - A neural networks operator controls administrative things, and sorts out things. If someone sends a report of a pipe needing repaired, the operator would organised a repair team to be sent. They also control things such as the ship's internet, viewing security cameras and monitoring what the crew does and making sure that they don't do anything breaking laws or restrictions. They have access to all of the machines, so they can check status, and help with things such as robotic refueling of fighter craft, etc. The Neural networks operator carries around an Admin Deck to interface with the ship if they are away from their terminal. RACE: Zenohunt (allied with Union, however with seperate fleets and militaries) - Zenohunts are human, however they have a mixed variety of what appears to be almost Earth animal features. Some may have the tail of a dog, others may have the ears of a cat. Only a tiny percentage have wings, and an even smaller percentage of them can actually fly. For this, Zenohunts are often reffered to as the 'alternate universe of Humans', of DNA that could mix with that of animals. In truth, nobody knows how Zenohunts came to be alike the Earth species. Some tribes of Zenohunts think Zariana chose for them to be that way. Zariana is the god of all Zenohunts. She watches over them, and blesses them, ensuring they are well. Zenohunts never left their home system when they gained space technology. There were only three planets in their star system, Lemea, Popel and Candor, along with many, many asteroids, both individual and in varying sizes of belts, though the only major cities would be found on Lemea. Those two cities are the only two cities that are left untouched in the endless Zenohunt war. Ehop and Yasanctuar (Hope and Sanctuary, in English) will forever remain the two only cities in Zenohunt territory. Asteroids and planets are not the only thing that you would find in the Zenohunt star system. Upon arrival, one would gasp at the sheer amount of ship debris in the system. Countless bases hidden in the asteroids showed that the Zenohunts were unmovable from their system. If a mysterious ship were to show up, it would die by either a Zenohunt battle group or by a hidden weapons platform, dug deep into an asteroid. The only reason that Humans survived when they arrived was because they came upon one of the more civilized of Zenohunt groups. Peace was agreed toward the Humans, however Zenohunts still battled eachother frequently because of disputes and other matters. Zenohunts speak 'Zenospeak', however they began learning English as well once Humans came along. One of the main facts of Zenohunts is that they are taught what they want to be when they are older from a very young age. If a child says, "Mommy, I wanna be a police man when I'm older", guess what? He's probably going to end up in a security role. If some little girl watches to much news and TV and says "Daddy, I want to work with MTA cannons!" They'll be working either as a gunner or tactical weapons officer on a ship. Something frowned upon by other races is that yes, Zenohunts train their young to be what they first said without a change of mind, however Zenohunt young will literally be what they want at a young age, or be something similar. For example, a Zenohunt learning to be a gunner will probably have the chance to be a Coota (one of various Zenohunt vehicles. Specifically, a Coota is a small vehicle that is literally a car with a machine gun on it. Young gunners use those as they require very little experience to use.) gunner at the age of fourteen. Obviously, higher roles, such as manning a tank, will require an older age and/or a lot more training. AGE: 19 GENDER: Female This image, however, she has the ears of a grey wolf, and the tail of a grey wolf. SHORT BIO: Amy was born in Yasanctuar, so she was safe from a lot of the fighting that happened occasionally on Lemea. However, this sanctuary didn't go on for long. "I want to be a computer lady on a ship flying through space!" That sentence sentenced her to training in the navy. At fifteen years old, with a final exam passing of 90%, she was flown to space and stationed on a frigate in the Yasanctuar navy. From that point on, she went ship hopping, one time because of a promotion to Ensign, another time because of an attack that ended up with her ship being damaged to the point where personnel were forced to use their escape cells, but mainly just because of re-assignment, even to Union ships. That eventually ended up with her being stationed on the USS Audacia. PERSONALITY: +Friendly +Supportive =+Tries to socialize =Slightly shy =-Easy to frighten =-Slightly upsetable -Gets angry to those who speak badly of Zenohunt religion toward Zariana TALENTS/FLAWS: +Able to manage her role well +Formal during work-time +Trained in hand-to-hand and short-range weapon combat =-Has mood shifts every-so-often -Tends to attack if threatened
49,307	1,332	5	2,338	426	Vas grabbed the door leading into the server room and forced it fully open before it had a chance to close. The alien wasn't undeniably furious at the moment, but when all communications leading in and out of the ship, including internet, suddenly dropped dead many reported seeing steam funnel from Vas' pores. "Is this the server room?," Vas asked as he 'looked' around. He could feel the Zenohunt girl clearly but the machinery was a little fuzzy. The Union tech wasn't Warock certified apparently. "Look kid, get this crap working won't yah," Vas ordered. "It's bad enough that I have to deal with dozens of nobodies on the bridge pissing their uniforms without the Captain around. I'm a damn Navigator with nothing to do! Get it fixed!"	NAME (Clan Name, Given Name): Rockland Vas RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Pilot, Navigator AGE: 234 years old, or 54 compared to human biology. GENDER: Male RACE: Warock - Warocks are sentient carbon-based life forms from the planet Chernohaz, a hazardous world constantly being ravaged by sandstorms. All Warocks are blind, evolving past the need for eyes and use gills located near the base of their necks to breath and use other senses to "see". All Warocks also have rough, rock-like exoskeletons that makes them tough beings. Politically, Warocks trade and are allied with most species. They are allied with The Union. SHORT BIO: Rockland Vas, (who just prefers Vas), is a former fighter pilot and special agent of the Warock Military. In his earlier years, Vas would pilot solo missions for his military or work on the ground for joint operations against the Saerans and rogue forces in his home system. After years of decorated service, Vas took an easy job aboard the USS Audacia as the ship's new navigator. Vas would never retire fully from service, but taking this gig felt like R&R compared to shit he's had to do in the past. PERSONALITY: Dry humored Uninterested Nonsocial Easily tempered Womanizer Talents: Hard worker Military Training Ace Fighter Pilot Trained Navigator Alien Exoskeleton Survival Training Flaws: Cannot "see" Harsh demeanor Stubbornness Anti-social Easily tempered Womanizer
49,308	1,332	6	784	1,231	Sitting in one of the darker corners of the bridge with a few other crew members around him. He made sure he chose the spot that the cameras couldn't see. One of the few blind spots, maybe a foot or two wide. The ship had amazing surveillance capabilities but a few spots were safe for his area of expertise. He did one last check, probably not a good enough one for what he was about to do, but good enough to know that there was nobody who would care watching. He reached in his bag and pulled out a small metal sheet with some wires on it. It was a holographic disk made specifically for porn. Weird porn, inter-species porn and the like. He himself didn't enjoy it but he had a buyer who was paying a decent price for it. "Ok, which one of you is the dirty pervert who wanted this? Who's the bastard that wanted a quick jerk sesh before looking for our god damn captain?" He looked at the three low level crew members all blushing and spit next to their shoes. "Come on, this was hard to come by and I ain't holdin' on to this thing for more than another hour. I have actual important business to tend to." After a bit of staring an exchange was quickly made and he handed the holo-porn off to his dirty customer before stepping a mere inch to the right and entering the camera's view once more.	NAME: Christian Malory RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Black market trader (although the ship lists him as a security officer) RACE: Human AGE: 26 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Coming out of a planet on the edge of union territory, Christian never had the easiest time getting by. His whole life he was surrounded by the poorest and rudest of beings in the universe. He saw his fair share of shady deals go down and through this built a network of traders in the black market. Whenever he needed anything, or a close friend did he was the guy who could get it far faster than any official could, and generally at higher quality too. Problem was that he was pricier. He began to make a name for himself and built an interplanetary network that reached into the heart of the union, and he made his way hitchhiking around the union territory grabbing the illegal or rare items he needed before a captain decided his... connections would be useful for his ship and crew. Ever since then he's been masquerading as a security guard on the scouting ship, while handling all of their relations to an underground criminal market operations. PERSONALITY: Growing up in one of the shittiest (can we swear?) planets, not much scares him. He grew up with guns and knives pointed at him. He's slow to trust but loyal to anyone that he deems a friend. He has a strangely optimistic view of most people despite his upbringing. He doesn't take threats seriously, other than those of his crew mates. He's a bit trigger happy as well, not truly valuing the lives of anyone he doesn't trust. At least he knows who not to mouth off to. TALENTS:Diplomacy in general. He can fake being posh and noble, as well as getting along with street rats Decent aim Can find a place to stay in almost any city, quality not guaranteed to be good FLAWS: He is a bit too ready to take a life His mood can change very fast depending on the topic of conversation. His past isn't really up for public review. I fully understand if this character idea is also not too fitting for this RP. But I made it based off of the whole "However, because the ship really doesn’t need another reprimand on its record" part of the description. Again, I might just be too eager after finishing firefly just last week.
49,309	1,332	7	1,032	421	Maggie's head popped out from behind a block of servers, and her eyes narrowed. "Leave the kid alone, Rocky—sorry, Lieutenant Rocky," she growled (to be fair, growling was her default voice). "Ain't her fault that everyone's been using the Extranet nonstop for the last two days. Or the message app. Jesus, if you're one deck away from me, you can come talk to me, Krugers—" Her rambling continued as she ducked back in, hissing as she burned her fingers on overheated boards. She stuck a hand out behind her, wiggling her fingers invitingly. "Hand me the coolant and some q-tips, will you? Can you get finger burns? No, of course you can't, come here and be useful."	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,310	1,332	8	2,338	426	Vas snarled back and motioned beside Maggie, grabbing the q-tips and coolant. With rocky hands, the Warock grabbed the scorching boards and ripped then out of their homes without any hesitation. Vas didn't even feel a thing as he plunged his arm back inside the server in search for more. "I can barely make out anything in here," Vas complained as he grabbed what felt like another overheated board. "This shit feels like it was made half a millennia ago by my specie's standards." Warock tech usually revolved around their senses when it came do to maintenance and full on restoration. Every bolt and screw had to stand out to them for anything to get done, and Union tech didn't seemed to follow that philosophy. Maybe with an echo-emitter, he could get a good idea.	NAME (Clan Name, Given Name): Rockland Vas RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Pilot, Navigator AGE: 234 years old, or 54 compared to human biology. GENDER: Male RACE: Warock - Warocks are sentient carbon-based life forms from the planet Chernohaz, a hazardous world constantly being ravaged by sandstorms. All Warocks are blind, evolving past the need for eyes and use gills located near the base of their necks to breath and use other senses to "see". All Warocks also have rough, rock-like exoskeletons that makes them tough beings. Politically, Warocks trade and are allied with most species. They are allied with The Union. SHORT BIO: Rockland Vas, (who just prefers Vas), is a former fighter pilot and special agent of the Warock Military. In his earlier years, Vas would pilot solo missions for his military or work on the ground for joint operations against the Saerans and rogue forces in his home system. After years of decorated service, Vas took an easy job aboard the USS Audacia as the ship's new navigator. Vas would never retire fully from service, but taking this gig felt like R&R compared to shit he's had to do in the past. PERSONALITY: Dry humored Uninterested Nonsocial Easily tempered Womanizer Talents: Hard worker Military Training Ace Fighter Pilot Trained Navigator Alien Exoskeleton Survival Training Flaws: Cannot "see" Harsh demeanor Stubbornness Anti-social Easily tempered Womanizer
49,311	1,332	9	1,032	421	She should probably complain about the rough treatment of such delicate things, but the boards were scorched to shit already. "Fuck, I'm going to have to go Mallory," she muttered. "I hate that guy." Maggie nudged Rockland's hands out of the way and got to work with the coolant, taking some of the heat off of the irreplaceable parts and checking what could be patched up quickly. Swinging a tool around her finger in a circle, she pulled the goggles down from on top of her head and got to work. "Well, Jesus, sorry, I'll make sure everything on ship is covered in goddamn braille," she snapped back, wrenching a part out with a grunt. "Sorry, Lieutenant, that's basically our last priority right now. Just...yank what I tell you to yank, when I tell you, got it?"	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,312	1,332	10	2,541	1,618	Server Room Aside from the rustling and ripping noises coming from the Lieutenant's rough treatment of the servers, there had been a persistent shuffling and groaning noise in the background of the server room even since the crew had started to gather there, but it had went unnoticed due to the incredible load being placed on the Extranet and the servers going absolutely wild. Either someone was downloading twelve zettabytes of pornography or... no, it was probably just the pornography. Either way, it made things hard to hear, at least when you weren't actually trying to be annoying. But the white noise was broken when someone's neck made a really loud and obnoxious cricking sound. "Hey Old Ironsides, mind keeping it down? I know you literally got rocks for brains, but some of us are trying to fucking sleep here." The chief of security was an abnormally tall and well-built woman by human standards. It was a miracle she'd gone unnoticed, even with all the noise being made by the overclocked servers. Yet here she was, sleeping in the corner with a cable plugged into a port at the base of her neck, likely attempting to charge her nanomachine augs as much as possible. She yawned rather loudly, and cracked her neck in the opposite direction before sticking a finger in her ear to pick out the wax. She wiped it clean on her camo pants before looking around at the crew who'd assembled. "Hey Mags," she said. "You got the replicator back up and running yet? I'm starving. Oh look, Bitchy is here too." She cast a neutral eye on the canine Neural Networker, who she'd never particularly liked.	NAME: Dr. Annalynn O’Neil, commonly nicknamed Bolts RANK: Technically a Commander as she heads the Sciences department, but has the real-life military experience of a rookie. DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Sciences, Department Head (Weapons R&D Focus) RACE: Human AGE: 34 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Measuring up at a meager 5’3 and barely breaking a hundred and ten pounds, it’s not hard to see why Annalynn isn’t the military type. She’s often well dressed and in clean, well-kept condition - impressive, given that she spends much of her time on military ships. SHORT BIO: Annalynn was born into a military family with a long line of members serving in the Union Fleet. With a doctorate in mechanical physics, additional degrees in politics and psychology, and a lifetime of experience putting weapons together both large and small scale, Annalynn was approached by the Union Fleet to run weapons development programs on its ships. It was an easy choice for her, given the pressure from her family. However, by the time she served on her first ship, she was 32, having spent much of her life in school. As such, her practical experience is extremely limited, though it’s hard to argue with her intellect. PERSONALITY: If she wasn’t a scientist, Annalynn would probably have been a politician. She is extremely good at maintaining her composure in heated social situations, and is an intensely charismatic individual, sometimes to the point of overwhelming those around her. She’s an extrovert, of course, but she’s not obnoxious about it - Annalynn knows how to mind her manners. In addition, Annalynn stands by the age-old idiom, “knowledge is power.” She places intellect and facts before anything else, though the well-being of her friends and colleagues is a close second on her list of priorities. TALENTS: She can build you a gun, and a damn good one at that. It doesn’t matter how big or small it is, Annalynn can build it. Maintains her composure in heated situations better than most politicians An excellent people person Strong respect for the chain of command FLAWS: Physically a very weak person No combat or tactical experience Relentlessly holds to her opinion until proven wrong. At least she’ll be polite about it. Strong respect for the chain of command (hey, some people see it as a fault!)
49,313	1,332	11	784	1,231	Walking down a corridor dragging his index finger along the walls, Christian winking at every passerby he knew personally and making a clicking noise with his mouth. He was heading for his bunk to put the credits he was just paid into his personal safe until he could get on planet and put it in a bank. His door was coming up when he heard some awful noises coming from the server room and chuckled knowing exactly why the servers were probably overloading. That little holo chip had so much weird and gross porn on it that it had to do at least some damage to the servers when added to the current already stressed out state they were in. He walked right passed, hoping all the noise muffled his cackle enough to sneak by unheard and drop off his cash. The heat coming from the door caught him off guard, as well did the fact he heard his name followed by the phrase 'I hate that guy.' "Hey, I like me enough for the two of us." He shouted back not registering who was behind the voice saying that.	NAME: Christian Malory RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Black market trader (although the ship lists him as a security officer) RACE: Human AGE: 26 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Coming out of a planet on the edge of union territory, Christian never had the easiest time getting by. His whole life he was surrounded by the poorest and rudest of beings in the universe. He saw his fair share of shady deals go down and through this built a network of traders in the black market. Whenever he needed anything, or a close friend did he was the guy who could get it far faster than any official could, and generally at higher quality too. Problem was that he was pricier. He began to make a name for himself and built an interplanetary network that reached into the heart of the union, and he made his way hitchhiking around the union territory grabbing the illegal or rare items he needed before a captain decided his... connections would be useful for his ship and crew. Ever since then he's been masquerading as a security guard on the scouting ship, while handling all of their relations to an underground criminal market operations. PERSONALITY: Growing up in one of the shittiest (can we swear?) planets, not much scares him. He grew up with guns and knives pointed at him. He's slow to trust but loyal to anyone that he deems a friend. He has a strangely optimistic view of most people despite his upbringing. He doesn't take threats seriously, other than those of his crew mates. He's a bit trigger happy as well, not truly valuing the lives of anyone he doesn't trust. At least he knows who not to mouth off to. TALENTS:Diplomacy in general. He can fake being posh and noble, as well as getting along with street rats Decent aim Can find a place to stay in almost any city, quality not guaranteed to be good FLAWS: He is a bit too ready to take a life His mood can change very fast depending on the topic of conversation. His past isn't really up for public review. I fully understand if this character idea is also not too fitting for this RP. But I made it based off of the whole "However, because the ship really doesn’t need another reprimand on its record" part of the description. Again, I might just be too eager after finishing firefly just last week.
49,314	1,332	12	2,338	426	Vas gritted his teeth taking in deep breaths as not to explode. This woman could fight like some of the ladies back home. He was completely sure that the woman of Chernohaz would make her an honorary Warock if the chance arose. "Well, don't mind me if I accidently rip out some important conponents," Vas threatened with fire in his breath. "Not like 'the dumb blind alien' could tell what he was grabbing at. I hope your commanding officers understand your lapse in judgement."	NAME (Clan Name, Given Name): Rockland Vas RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Pilot, Navigator AGE: 234 years old, or 54 compared to human biology. GENDER: Male RACE: Warock - Warocks are sentient carbon-based life forms from the planet Chernohaz, a hazardous world constantly being ravaged by sandstorms. All Warocks are blind, evolving past the need for eyes and use gills located near the base of their necks to breath and use other senses to "see". All Warocks also have rough, rock-like exoskeletons that makes them tough beings. Politically, Warocks trade and are allied with most species. They are allied with The Union. SHORT BIO: Rockland Vas, (who just prefers Vas), is a former fighter pilot and special agent of the Warock Military. In his earlier years, Vas would pilot solo missions for his military or work on the ground for joint operations against the Saerans and rogue forces in his home system. After years of decorated service, Vas took an easy job aboard the USS Audacia as the ship's new navigator. Vas would never retire fully from service, but taking this gig felt like R&R compared to shit he's had to do in the past. PERSONALITY: Dry humored Uninterested Nonsocial Easily tempered Womanizer Talents: Hard worker Military Training Ace Fighter Pilot Trained Navigator Alien Exoskeleton Survival Training Flaws: Cannot "see" Harsh demeanor Stubbornness Anti-social Easily tempered Womanizer
49,315	1,332	13	1,032	421	No physical fights before 0900, Maggie threatened, but she didn't even bother to come all the way out of the server block. "Kal, lay off. Go eat a Snickers or something, fuck, I don't know, the replicator should be working again. If it's not, I'm going to punt someone out the airlock. Rockland, please don't break our ship more than it already is, this is going to be hard enough." At the yell from outside the server room, she jerked and swore when her head banged on the strut above her. She gingerly pulled her torso from the machine and shouted back over her shoulder, "GET YOUR ASS IN HERE, MALLORY, QUIT PRETENDING TO BE OFFENDED, I NEED YOU."	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,316	1,332	14	2,541	1,618	Kal shrugged. "Hey, I never said that. Sounds like someone is projecting." She turned to Maggie. "Seriously? You better not be pulling my fucking leg here Mags, because I ran out of Snickers a day ago. I'm about ready to start chowing down on the crew here, and not in a sexy way." She got up and stretched, bending back and forth. She was itching for the first real breakfast she'd had in days, and anyone else eating in the cafeteria had better pray they'd finished before she came in and broke the machine again.	NAME: Dr. Annalynn O’Neil, commonly nicknamed Bolts RANK: Technically a Commander as she heads the Sciences department, but has the real-life military experience of a rookie. DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Sciences, Department Head (Weapons R&D Focus) RACE: Human AGE: 34 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Measuring up at a meager 5’3 and barely breaking a hundred and ten pounds, it’s not hard to see why Annalynn isn’t the military type. She’s often well dressed and in clean, well-kept condition - impressive, given that she spends much of her time on military ships. SHORT BIO: Annalynn was born into a military family with a long line of members serving in the Union Fleet. With a doctorate in mechanical physics, additional degrees in politics and psychology, and a lifetime of experience putting weapons together both large and small scale, Annalynn was approached by the Union Fleet to run weapons development programs on its ships. It was an easy choice for her, given the pressure from her family. However, by the time she served on her first ship, she was 32, having spent much of her life in school. As such, her practical experience is extremely limited, though it’s hard to argue with her intellect. PERSONALITY: If she wasn’t a scientist, Annalynn would probably have been a politician. She is extremely good at maintaining her composure in heated social situations, and is an intensely charismatic individual, sometimes to the point of overwhelming those around her. She’s an extrovert, of course, but she’s not obnoxious about it - Annalynn knows how to mind her manners. In addition, Annalynn stands by the age-old idiom, “knowledge is power.” She places intellect and facts before anything else, though the well-being of her friends and colleagues is a close second on her list of priorities. TALENTS: She can build you a gun, and a damn good one at that. It doesn’t matter how big or small it is, Annalynn can build it. Maintains her composure in heated situations better than most politicians An excellent people person Strong respect for the chain of command FLAWS: Physically a very weak person No combat or tactical experience Relentlessly holds to her opinion until proven wrong. At least she’ll be polite about it. Strong respect for the chain of command (hey, some people see it as a fault!)
49,317	1,332	15	784	1,231	The beeping was absolutely relentless. The console just didn't quit: message after message after message, all from various people both within her department and from members of other departments, primarily Security. Annalynn took a deep breath; she was glad she was blessed with the patience to deal with this. Many others on the ship weren't so lucky to be gifted with such composure under as much stress. That said, it didn't help that her personal console was linked up to her personal handheld communicator, so every beep from her computer terminal was matched with a vibration on the desk. Not that Annalynn was busy. She was just trying to fill the latest work requests from the Security department - various weapon upgrades to implement, ideas they had that could be implemented, et cetera. On top of that, there was the standard workload that Annalynn was hired to do, which was improvements to the Audacia's weapons systems across the board. Nope, she wasn't busy at all. Her tech geeks were supposed to be cranking away at targeting software, trying to optimize and calibrate wherever necessary, but with the disappearance of Captain Ray, quite a few of her people were busy brainstorming possibilities for how the Captain disappeared and where she could have gone. Just then, the door to her office slid open, one of Annalynn's ensigns standing at the doorway with a look of shock on his face. "Sorry to bother you, ma'am. We, uh... overloaded the simulation again, ma'am. The good news is that the signs from the simulations were positive while they lasted." Annalynn sighed. This had been a common problem recently - the ensigns got a little overzealous, overtasked the computer running their simulations, and blew the whole damn thing up. "It's alright. I'll see if someone from engineering can send someone up. Dismissed." The ensign saluted, "Yes, ma'am," and left the room. Annalynn turned to her console, ignoring the onslaught of messages before her to open two new drafts. The first was as follows: "Maggie, The kids did it again. Overloaded the computer and it burned itself out. Can you get someone to take a look when you can? Not a priority, as it's good practice for them to run their own calculations to support the simulations, but it'd be nice to have a working simulation computer again. Thanks, Bolts PS Can somebody please remind Security that Sciences is not limitless in its operating capacity and that we do, in fact, have better things to do than entertain their endless requests for sidearm improvements? PPS I think the kids figured out a more effective targeting solution for the Audacia's guns. Hopefully, this will lead to less incidents in which we fire on our own people. Take a look when you're free so we can figure out how we can implement it properly and in coordination with Engineering." Annalynn couldn't help but release a small smile as she hit send, both at her affectionate usage of "the kids" to refer to her people and at the rare expression of stress she just let out in her message. The second message went to Security, and was notably less casual: "Commander Kal Rama, I understand your people's needs for personal firearm improvements, and they are being addressed by the Science team. However, relentlessly messaging me with demands to speed up your upgrade requests is, unfortunately, not going to change the reality that my people have more pressing tasks to deal with, such as the disappearance of our Captain. If you would be so kind as to alert your people to this fact, I would be very appreciative. Many thanks, Dr. Annalynn O'Neil" Hopefully that would stop the barrage of messages Annalynn's computer was still suffering. Annalynn nodded to herself and sat back in her chair, taking a moment to relax.	NAME: Christian Malory RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Black market trader (although the ship lists him as a security officer) RACE: Human AGE: 26 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Coming out of a planet on the edge of union territory, Christian never had the easiest time getting by. His whole life he was surrounded by the poorest and rudest of beings in the universe. He saw his fair share of shady deals go down and through this built a network of traders in the black market. Whenever he needed anything, or a close friend did he was the guy who could get it far faster than any official could, and generally at higher quality too. Problem was that he was pricier. He began to make a name for himself and built an interplanetary network that reached into the heart of the union, and he made his way hitchhiking around the union territory grabbing the illegal or rare items he needed before a captain decided his... connections would be useful for his ship and crew. Ever since then he's been masquerading as a security guard on the scouting ship, while handling all of their relations to an underground criminal market operations. PERSONALITY: Growing up in one of the shittiest (can we swear?) planets, not much scares him. He grew up with guns and knives pointed at him. He's slow to trust but loyal to anyone that he deems a friend. He has a strangely optimistic view of most people despite his upbringing. He doesn't take threats seriously, other than those of his crew mates. He's a bit trigger happy as well, not truly valuing the lives of anyone he doesn't trust. At least he knows who not to mouth off to. TALENTS:Diplomacy in general. He can fake being posh and noble, as well as getting along with street rats Decent aim Can find a place to stay in almost any city, quality not guaranteed to be good FLAWS: He is a bit too ready to take a life His mood can change very fast depending on the topic of conversation. His past isn't really up for public review. I fully understand if this character idea is also not too fitting for this RP. But I made it based off of the whole "However, because the ship really doesn’t need another reprimand on its record" part of the description. Again, I might just be too eager after finishing firefly just last week.
49,318	1,332	16	1,032	421	Yes, it's replicating Snickers again, Maggie said, rolling her eyes, but there was the slightest upward motion of the corner of her mouth. The slightest. She didn't give a shit about these people, shut up, you know nothing. "Go and chow to your heart's content." She was ready to dive back into the block when Christian waltzed in and promptly injured himself, and she couldn't hold in the (frankly disturbing) cackle. "Problem, Ensign?" she said gleefully. "And it was probably you who downloaded the porn, you cretin, but first things first, how long will it take you to get new server boards delivered?" Her datapad was buzzing again. Twice. Three times. Six times. Fuck it, she'd get to it in a second, she just had to solder one last connection for this patch job—	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,319	1,332	17	2,338	426	Well if you ever decide to chew on someone the good way, keep me in mind, Vas told Kal as he felt and heard the scummiest guy on board make a fool of himself. The Warock sighed and turned to Maggie, unamused. "Can we just get this over with so I can leave. Immediately." All of Vas' reserved patience was completely tattered and worthless now. All he wanted was to do now as find an empty space and just soak in some silence and loneliness for a while.	NAME (Clan Name, Given Name): Rockland Vas RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Pilot, Navigator AGE: 234 years old, or 54 compared to human biology. GENDER: Male RACE: Warock - Warocks are sentient carbon-based life forms from the planet Chernohaz, a hazardous world constantly being ravaged by sandstorms. All Warocks are blind, evolving past the need for eyes and use gills located near the base of their necks to breath and use other senses to "see". All Warocks also have rough, rock-like exoskeletons that makes them tough beings. Politically, Warocks trade and are allied with most species. They are allied with The Union. SHORT BIO: Rockland Vas, (who just prefers Vas), is a former fighter pilot and special agent of the Warock Military. In his earlier years, Vas would pilot solo missions for his military or work on the ground for joint operations against the Saerans and rogue forces in his home system. After years of decorated service, Vas took an easy job aboard the USS Audacia as the ship's new navigator. Vas would never retire fully from service, but taking this gig felt like R&R compared to shit he's had to do in the past. PERSONALITY: Dry humored Uninterested Nonsocial Easily tempered Womanizer Talents: Hard worker Military Training Ace Fighter Pilot Trained Navigator Alien Exoskeleton Survival Training Flaws: Cannot "see" Harsh demeanor Stubbornness Anti-social Easily tempered Womanizer
49,320	1,332	18	784	1,231	Fuck, uh, not until I know where we land. Not much space delivery going on in this system but I have ground contacts that could get them in say, three or four hours after landing? He was still shaking and blowing on his burnt hand. "Where are we headed next anyways? I could set up the deal as soon as that's sorted out." He spit on the ground again. It was a bad habit he picked up but he just couldn't stop. The poor janitors had to mop it up but he had bigger things to deal with. He turned to Vas who was obviously annoyed and smirked. He didn't say anything since he was technically superior to him. Guy looked as angry as a rock could possibly look. "Jesus christ what did you do to these boards? Rip them out bare handed?" He observed them for quality, maybe he could resell them but from the looks of it they were simply ripped away with very little delicacy.	NAME: Christian Malory RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Black market trader (although the ship lists him as a security officer) RACE: Human AGE: 26 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Coming out of a planet on the edge of union territory, Christian never had the easiest time getting by. His whole life he was surrounded by the poorest and rudest of beings in the universe. He saw his fair share of shady deals go down and through this built a network of traders in the black market. Whenever he needed anything, or a close friend did he was the guy who could get it far faster than any official could, and generally at higher quality too. Problem was that he was pricier. He began to make a name for himself and built an interplanetary network that reached into the heart of the union, and he made his way hitchhiking around the union territory grabbing the illegal or rare items he needed before a captain decided his... connections would be useful for his ship and crew. Ever since then he's been masquerading as a security guard on the scouting ship, while handling all of their relations to an underground criminal market operations. PERSONALITY: Growing up in one of the shittiest (can we swear?) planets, not much scares him. He grew up with guns and knives pointed at him. He's slow to trust but loyal to anyone that he deems a friend. He has a strangely optimistic view of most people despite his upbringing. He doesn't take threats seriously, other than those of his crew mates. He's a bit trigger happy as well, not truly valuing the lives of anyone he doesn't trust. At least he knows who not to mouth off to. TALENTS:Diplomacy in general. He can fake being posh and noble, as well as getting along with street rats Decent aim Can find a place to stay in almost any city, quality not guaranteed to be good FLAWS: He is a bit too ready to take a life His mood can change very fast depending on the topic of conversation. His past isn't really up for public review. I fully understand if this character idea is also not too fitting for this RP. But I made it based off of the whole "However, because the ship really doesn’t need another reprimand on its record" part of the description. Again, I might just be too eager after finishing firefly just last week.
49,321	1,332	19	2,338	426	Yeah, what of it bub?, Vas replied as he turned from the servers. "You going to send me a bill or sue me for mistreatment of broken shit?" Union tech didn't register to Warock's like their own tech, and seemed to be much more fragile. Due to their hardened biology, Warocks have always made things to withstand them. No worth making something if it broke from simply grabbing it.	NAME (Clan Name, Given Name): Rockland Vas RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Pilot, Navigator AGE: 234 years old, or 54 compared to human biology. GENDER: Male RACE: Warock - Warocks are sentient carbon-based life forms from the planet Chernohaz, a hazardous world constantly being ravaged by sandstorms. All Warocks are blind, evolving past the need for eyes and use gills located near the base of their necks to breath and use other senses to "see". All Warocks also have rough, rock-like exoskeletons that makes them tough beings. Politically, Warocks trade and are allied with most species. They are allied with The Union. SHORT BIO: Rockland Vas, (who just prefers Vas), is a former fighter pilot and special agent of the Warock Military. In his earlier years, Vas would pilot solo missions for his military or work on the ground for joint operations against the Saerans and rogue forces in his home system. After years of decorated service, Vas took an easy job aboard the USS Audacia as the ship's new navigator. Vas would never retire fully from service, but taking this gig felt like R&R compared to shit he's had to do in the past. PERSONALITY: Dry humored Uninterested Nonsocial Easily tempered Womanizer Talents: Hard worker Military Training Ace Fighter Pilot Trained Navigator Alien Exoskeleton Survival Training Flaws: Cannot "see" Harsh demeanor Stubbornness Anti-social Easily tempered Womanizer
49,322	1,332	20	1,032	421	Children, Maggie muttered, but didn't continue with the threat. Tensions were high, and honestly, she would like to see Mallory get what was coming to him. Half of her kind of hoped that Kal would stop them before they started throwing punches in the middle of the server room, though. She pulled out of the server block momentarily to nab her pad and respond to the messages. bolts, in server room now, trying to fix tell kal yourself she's right here, im sure you're brave enough to tell her to her face, right? btw replicator is fixed. eat pie to your heart's content. if i find the person who broke it in the first place im sending them to carson for an infectious disease work faster nuts	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,323	1,332	21	991	1,987	Doctor Cason sat quietly in a corner table in the cafeteria, a tasty green salad in front of him, his fork stuck into a piece of lettuce which he scooped into his mouth as his glasses covered eyes read the book in front of him, next to his meal. He didn't need the glasses, his vision was perfect but he always noticed that patients liked their doctors to be bespectacled, helped reinforce the smart doctor stereotype, which he didn't contend when it was about him. He chewed the food in his mouth as he finished a page, turning to the next one, yes it was an actual book, not a datapad, he liked (very) old fashioned books more, felt more natural to him. He was dressed more casual than usual, no doctor's jacket, rolled up sleeves, a looser tie on a grey dress shirt, his eyes more tired than usual as well. Ever since the captain's disappearance he hadn't slept much. The worst part of it was that the good doctor was pretty useless when it came to the disappearance. Until they found the captain's body then all old Roy could do was sit and wait, like all of the others on the ship. Just left with a mysterious video message. A part of him knew that would end being a bad thing though, mysteries were often not a fun topic. All he could do was keep the people in the medical department that he was in charge of calm. If anyone actually managed to get hurt then one of his subordinates would have messaged him about it. But it seemed be a boring moment on the ship, just with an aura of confusion over the missing leader. If many more people disappeared then he would have ended up on top thanks to the chain of command, it wasn't something he liked, he was better off just being the medical chief, the crew was better off with it being that way too. So all the doctor did was continue his meal in silence.	NAME: Dr. Roy Cason RANK: Lieutenant commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Medical, chief medical officer (Head doctor, physician and surgeon) RACE: Human AGE: 38 GENDER: Male APPEARANCE: A skinnier man of average height, 5'9, Roy dresses like a doctor would, slacks, a button up shirt with a tie, a white coat and boots fit for a ship. He is in fine shape with a sharp diet but is no physical specimen. SHORT BIO: Born deep in Union space, Roy Cason has always dreamed of exploring the stars ever since he was a little colony kid. He was an outstanding student who early on knew he wanted to become something in the medical field. After years of hard work he acquired all of the proper degrees he decided to enlist in the Union Fleet which he did. After that he was all over the place, stationed and colonies and other times ships. It didn't really matter to him though he enjoyed ships much more which may have lead to him ending up on the USS Audacia as the chief medical officer. He was eager about the opportunity, happy to once again be on a ship with a crew of all kinds of people. PERSONALITY: Roy is a peculiar man, normally very quiet and to himself unless dealing with a patient, in which his demeanor seems to change. His words are honest and straightforward, he does not sugarcoat anything and takes his job extremely seriously. He's a man of strong moral convictions which hold the preciousness of life, human or other above all else. In other words he is a humanist that cares about organic life. He's fascinated by life and all of its questions as well as space and the 'little miracles'. TALENTS: - An extremely skilled doctor, physician and surgeon with years of experience to back up a high level of knowledge in the medical field. He has admitted to being most skilled in dealing with human based medicine, but has knowledge of many different species. He possesses a keen understanding of biology, which includes humans and a multitude of other known species. - Works great under pressure and in high intensity situations. Surgery while the ship is under fire? No problem. Reattaching an arm while the owner is bleeding out? Not an issue. He doesn't panic. FLAWS: - He's a pacifist. He strongly believes that a nonviolent solution is often the most effective, and dislikes war and conflict in general. He will only resort to it as a means of defense either to himself or someone else, never as an aggressor. He's fine with serving on a ship full of military personal, just he himself doesn't want anything to do with the combat. - Not particularly skilled in combat, while he knows how to aim and fire a gun, he's not anything special with one. Also while he keeps his body in shape, he isn't a fighter. - Hates being ordered around. While he will listen to a commanding office, he hates being ordered around like a grunt. He's a doctor, dammit. - Dr. Roy can be very blunt and forward, sometimes to an extreme point. He'll give his exact, honest opinions when asked to. Comes with being a doctor and having to tell people harsh truths.
49,324	1,332	22	784	1,231	You ripped them out like some kind of animal! They weren't all the way broken. Probably a few parts someone might want somewhere but your god damned rock hands can't gingerly unscrew a few bolts and fucking gently place them somewhere? Jesus christ." He observed all the damage. They were dented, had wires sticking out of them and were still too hot to touch. "I thought you guys were supposed to be geniuses with tech and shit, not savages." He stood up and looked at the now somehow angrier Vas.	NAME: Christian Malory RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Black market trader (although the ship lists him as a security officer) RACE: Human AGE: 26 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Coming out of a planet on the edge of union territory, Christian never had the easiest time getting by. His whole life he was surrounded by the poorest and rudest of beings in the universe. He saw his fair share of shady deals go down and through this built a network of traders in the black market. Whenever he needed anything, or a close friend did he was the guy who could get it far faster than any official could, and generally at higher quality too. Problem was that he was pricier. He began to make a name for himself and built an interplanetary network that reached into the heart of the union, and he made his way hitchhiking around the union territory grabbing the illegal or rare items he needed before a captain decided his... connections would be useful for his ship and crew. Ever since then he's been masquerading as a security guard on the scouting ship, while handling all of their relations to an underground criminal market operations. PERSONALITY: Growing up in one of the shittiest (can we swear?) planets, not much scares him. He grew up with guns and knives pointed at him. He's slow to trust but loyal to anyone that he deems a friend. He has a strangely optimistic view of most people despite his upbringing. He doesn't take threats seriously, other than those of his crew mates. He's a bit trigger happy as well, not truly valuing the lives of anyone he doesn't trust. At least he knows who not to mouth off to. TALENTS:Diplomacy in general. He can fake being posh and noble, as well as getting along with street rats Decent aim Can find a place to stay in almost any city, quality not guaranteed to be good FLAWS: He is a bit too ready to take a life His mood can change very fast depending on the topic of conversation. His past isn't really up for public review. I fully understand if this character idea is also not too fitting for this RP. But I made it based off of the whole "However, because the ship really doesn’t need another reprimand on its record" part of the description. Again, I might just be too eager after finishing firefly just last week.
49,325	1,332	23	1,032	421	Privately, Maggie agreed with Mallory—but she wasn't about to support crew infighting. "Mallory, shut up," she snapped. "Stop antagonizing the guy with rocks for fists, will you? I'm pretty sure I'm the engineer here, not you. Stuff it." She held a hand out, raising her eyebrow. "Duct tape. Hand it over. I know you have some left." Duct tape was a valuable commodity on Audacia—and she'd run out of her last roll a while ago. Maybe a distraction in the form of bartering would keep Vas from beating Mallory's head against the wall.	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,326	1,332	24	2,338	426	Vas grabbed Mallory by the shirt and pinned him against the wall, making sure to forcefully slam him. Steam could be seen seeping through every rocky pour on his face and neck, just as hot as the now irrelevant boards. "Call me a savage one more time kid," Vas snarled right in the human's face. "I dare you too you little shit! Call me a savage one more time and I paint this entire place with your slimy guts."	NAME (Clan Name, Given Name): Rockland Vas RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Pilot, Navigator AGE: 234 years old, or 54 compared to human biology. GENDER: Male RACE: Warock - Warocks are sentient carbon-based life forms from the planet Chernohaz, a hazardous world constantly being ravaged by sandstorms. All Warocks are blind, evolving past the need for eyes and use gills located near the base of their necks to breath and use other senses to "see". All Warocks also have rough, rock-like exoskeletons that makes them tough beings. Politically, Warocks trade and are allied with most species. They are allied with The Union. SHORT BIO: Rockland Vas, (who just prefers Vas), is a former fighter pilot and special agent of the Warock Military. In his earlier years, Vas would pilot solo missions for his military or work on the ground for joint operations against the Saerans and rogue forces in his home system. After years of decorated service, Vas took an easy job aboard the USS Audacia as the ship's new navigator. Vas would never retire fully from service, but taking this gig felt like R&R compared to shit he's had to do in the past. PERSONALITY: Dry humored Uninterested Nonsocial Easily tempered Womanizer Talents: Hard worker Military Training Ace Fighter Pilot Trained Navigator Alien Exoskeleton Survival Training Flaws: Cannot "see" Harsh demeanor Stubbornness Anti-social Easily tempered Womanizer
49,327	1,332	25	1,032	421	Jesus shitballsing Christ, Maggie muttered, taking a ginger step away from the steaming Warock. She glanced around, but Kal had already left, and she smacked a hand against her forehead. This was what she needed. One fight sprung up, and there were sure to be more to follow. "Hey," she snapped, trying to get their attention without actually getting in Rockland's way. "HEY." Eventually, she resorted to throwing a screwdriver at the back of his head. "You are officers on a Union ship," she hissed, hands balled into fists on her hips. "You want to fucking act like it? I get that things are a little tense right now, but Jesus Christ, at least act like adults! I will pull rank, I swear to fucking God, I don't need actual crew in the brig—"	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,328	1,332	26	784	1,231	The commander had a good point. Dude was made of rocks. He cleared his throat a bit. "Duct tape? How much you need? I got a biUUUUFH GAH" Malory was in the middle of a business proposition when he was slammed into a wall by a now steaming Vas. He was disoriented of course, but had been in a tighter spot before, never with anything like Vas' species but he's had guns pointed at him and bigger guys grappling him. "I... said.. You ripped them out like a fucking savage." he spit one last time, surprisingly not onto the warock but right past him onto the floor next to them. A bit of blood came out with it but nothing worth going to a doctor for. Still pinned to the wall, he looked at the commander. "AS... as I was SAYING! What've you got for me? I might have some for ya somewhere."	NAME: Christian Malory RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Black market trader (although the ship lists him as a security officer) RACE: Human AGE: 26 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Coming out of a planet on the edge of union territory, Christian never had the easiest time getting by. His whole life he was surrounded by the poorest and rudest of beings in the universe. He saw his fair share of shady deals go down and through this built a network of traders in the black market. Whenever he needed anything, or a close friend did he was the guy who could get it far faster than any official could, and generally at higher quality too. Problem was that he was pricier. He began to make a name for himself and built an interplanetary network that reached into the heart of the union, and he made his way hitchhiking around the union territory grabbing the illegal or rare items he needed before a captain decided his... connections would be useful for his ship and crew. Ever since then he's been masquerading as a security guard on the scouting ship, while handling all of their relations to an underground criminal market operations. PERSONALITY: Growing up in one of the shittiest (can we swear?) planets, not much scares him. He grew up with guns and knives pointed at him. He's slow to trust but loyal to anyone that he deems a friend. He has a strangely optimistic view of most people despite his upbringing. He doesn't take threats seriously, other than those of his crew mates. He's a bit trigger happy as well, not truly valuing the lives of anyone he doesn't trust. At least he knows who not to mouth off to. TALENTS:Diplomacy in general. He can fake being posh and noble, as well as getting along with street rats Decent aim Can find a place to stay in almost any city, quality not guaranteed to be good FLAWS: He is a bit too ready to take a life His mood can change very fast depending on the topic of conversation. His past isn't really up for public review. I fully understand if this character idea is also not too fitting for this RP. But I made it based off of the whole "However, because the ship really doesn’t need another reprimand on its record" part of the description. Again, I might just be too eager after finishing firefly just last week.
49,329	1,332	27	2,338	426	From the corner of her eye, Annalynn caught a reply from Maggie. She shook her head after she read it, unsure of what kind of reply she was actually expecting from her aptly nicknamed technical counterpart. She sent in return: "Nuts (since you continuously passively insist you be called that), I already sent her a message, but I can tell her again if you so insist. Be there soon. And feel free to ask for help, sometimes. I'd hate to show up to the server room and see all its innards ripped out. Bolts" Annalynn rose from her desk, putting on the red leather jacket draped around her chair. She may have been the Science Head on a military ship, but Annalynn liked to look like the CEO of a corporation. It helped her self confidence, and the Captain had never exactly reprimanded her for never dressing in uniform, despite the urging of the Union brass. Annalynn made her way through the Science labs towards the server room. Passing the cafeteria on her way, she gave a small wave to the mild-mannered Dr. Cason - was that an actual book he was reading? The medical chief had always been a little eccentric... It was no surprise to Annalynn to find the server room in the state it was: Maggie barking at Lieutenant Vas and Ensign Mallory, with - to Annalynn's great dismay - the innards of the servers ripped out. "I seem to have showed up at an opportune moment, Commander Mason. Ensign Mallory, please give your ranking superior the duct tape. The science department has plenty to offer in return within reason."	NAME (Clan Name, Given Name): Rockland Vas RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Pilot, Navigator AGE: 234 years old, or 54 compared to human biology. GENDER: Male RACE: Warock - Warocks are sentient carbon-based life forms from the planet Chernohaz, a hazardous world constantly being ravaged by sandstorms. All Warocks are blind, evolving past the need for eyes and use gills located near the base of their necks to breath and use other senses to "see". All Warocks also have rough, rock-like exoskeletons that makes them tough beings. Politically, Warocks trade and are allied with most species. They are allied with The Union. SHORT BIO: Rockland Vas, (who just prefers Vas), is a former fighter pilot and special agent of the Warock Military. In his earlier years, Vas would pilot solo missions for his military or work on the ground for joint operations against the Saerans and rogue forces in his home system. After years of decorated service, Vas took an easy job aboard the USS Audacia as the ship's new navigator. Vas would never retire fully from service, but taking this gig felt like R&R compared to shit he's had to do in the past. PERSONALITY: Dry humored Uninterested Nonsocial Easily tempered Womanizer Talents: Hard worker Military Training Ace Fighter Pilot Trained Navigator Alien Exoskeleton Survival Training Flaws: Cannot "see" Harsh demeanor Stubbornness Anti-social Easily tempered Womanizer
49,330	1,332	28	784	1,231	Being dropped so suddenly wasn't the preferred way of landing for Ensign Malory. He was still ready to bargain for the tape but Bolts too, outranked him. "Ah, fuck why can't someone who, y'know, doesn't outrank me walk through those doors?" he stood up slowly and brushed off his permanently dirty work pants and shirt. He looked at Vas with the same expression Vas was giving him if he had flesh that could make expressions as easy as him. "I'll grab it, but the more you use the more you'll wish you didn't use as much. Shit is hard to come by in fucking space." He walked out the door, clutching his shoulder. His arm was basically dead at the moment, but hopefully not broken. He walked by the mess hall and saw the doc. "Ay Cason. We're gonna have a little meeting in a bit." He shouted without slowing down. He wasn't bleeding on the outside at least. He went on through the corridor until he got to his room and grabbed the duct tape from one of the hundred secret compartments he was probably not allowed to have installed. He muttered to himself about how if the captain were here shit like this would never have happened. Cap would've solved all the issues by now and no fight would happen. His anger toward Vas was slowly being replaced by being mad at the captain for disappearing like she did.	NAME: Christian Malory RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Black market trader (although the ship lists him as a security officer) RACE: Human AGE: 26 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Coming out of a planet on the edge of union territory, Christian never had the easiest time getting by. His whole life he was surrounded by the poorest and rudest of beings in the universe. He saw his fair share of shady deals go down and through this built a network of traders in the black market. Whenever he needed anything, or a close friend did he was the guy who could get it far faster than any official could, and generally at higher quality too. Problem was that he was pricier. He began to make a name for himself and built an interplanetary network that reached into the heart of the union, and he made his way hitchhiking around the union territory grabbing the illegal or rare items he needed before a captain decided his... connections would be useful for his ship and crew. Ever since then he's been masquerading as a security guard on the scouting ship, while handling all of their relations to an underground criminal market operations. PERSONALITY: Growing up in one of the shittiest (can we swear?) planets, not much scares him. He grew up with guns and knives pointed at him. He's slow to trust but loyal to anyone that he deems a friend. He has a strangely optimistic view of most people despite his upbringing. He doesn't take threats seriously, other than those of his crew mates. He's a bit trigger happy as well, not truly valuing the lives of anyone he doesn't trust. At least he knows who not to mouth off to. TALENTS:Diplomacy in general. He can fake being posh and noble, as well as getting along with street rats Decent aim Can find a place to stay in almost any city, quality not guaranteed to be good FLAWS: He is a bit too ready to take a life His mood can change very fast depending on the topic of conversation. His past isn't really up for public review. I fully understand if this character idea is also not too fitting for this RP. But I made it based off of the whole "However, because the ship really doesn’t need another reprimand on its record" part of the description. Again, I might just be too eager after finishing firefly just last week.
49,331	1,332	29	1,032	421	Christ, Maggie muttered again, pinching the bridge of her nose. "If the Captain were here this never would've happened." Captain Ray was just...she had a way about her. People, even the mostly shitty crew of the Audacia, wanted to follow her and make her proud. Maggie had no such talent. "Vas, just—don't break anymore people, alright? Go eat...something. O'Neill—" Mason sighed again, and rubbed her forehead. She hated asking for help. "...come hold things for me."	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,332	1,332	30	2,338	426	Vas shrugged and complied, just happy to get out of there and do something else. The walk to the cafeteria was short, giving him enough time to process how f**ked things were. He knew he had ultimately made an ass of himself, though it honestly didn't faze him. Maybe he should of taken those Human Interaction courses back on Chernohaz. Inside the cafeteria things were relatively quiet. Dr. Cason sat by himself, a little rustled for some reason. Other then that very few people were around. He actually wondered where Kal had gone off too. For a human 'super-soldier' the girl definitely had spunk. Vas found the replicator and ordered a bowl of Glower Soup, a simple homeworld concoction that most Warock families served as supper. It was relatively tasteless and high in rich vitamins, but Vas always took a liking to it. The soup glowed dimly from artificial ingredients instead of the organic Glower Slugs that many farmed out in the southern coasts. Vas found a seat off to himself and began to eat, happy to have a moments piece.	NAME (Clan Name, Given Name): Rockland Vas RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Pilot, Navigator AGE: 234 years old, or 54 compared to human biology. GENDER: Male RACE: Warock - Warocks are sentient carbon-based life forms from the planet Chernohaz, a hazardous world constantly being ravaged by sandstorms. All Warocks are blind, evolving past the need for eyes and use gills located near the base of their necks to breath and use other senses to "see". All Warocks also have rough, rock-like exoskeletons that makes them tough beings. Politically, Warocks trade and are allied with most species. They are allied with The Union. SHORT BIO: Rockland Vas, (who just prefers Vas), is a former fighter pilot and special agent of the Warock Military. In his earlier years, Vas would pilot solo missions for his military or work on the ground for joint operations against the Saerans and rogue forces in his home system. After years of decorated service, Vas took an easy job aboard the USS Audacia as the ship's new navigator. Vas would never retire fully from service, but taking this gig felt like R&R compared to shit he's had to do in the past. PERSONALITY: Dry humored Uninterested Nonsocial Easily tempered Womanizer Talents: Hard worker Military Training Ace Fighter Pilot Trained Navigator Alien Exoskeleton Survival Training Flaws: Cannot "see" Harsh demeanor Stubbornness Anti-social Easily tempered Womanizer
49,333	1,332	31	1,032	421	Annalynn smiled as Mallory left to grab the tape as requested. She managed to squeeze out a rapid, "Thank you, Ensign," before he left. Vas followed, as well, leaving her with Maggie. She moved to assist the Engineering head, taking a look at the damage that had been unleashed on the server. "Looks like the lieutenant got in there. Now tell me, why didn't we follow procedure, shut down the servers temporarily, apply some coolant, and wait for temperatures to be within human tolerance before 'operating' on the server?" Annalynn asked with a sly grin. The question was rhetorical, the intent mainly to fire up Maggie. The doctor had no valid evidence to back it up, but she personally believed that Nuts worked better when she was heated. Bolts knelt down next to the mess and extended her arms so she could hold whatever needed to be held. She let out a deep sigh, allowing herself a moment of calm so she could vent a little bit. "Shit is crazy without the Captain, Maggie. We need her back soon," Annalynn voiced her concerns, which she knew Maggie shared.	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,334	1,332	32	784	1,231	Christian finished his pouting and began walking back to the server room with the duct tape. His shoulder was definitely not right. Almost like a rock grabbed it and used it to slam him into a wall. He hurried passed the warock who was eating what looked like some ground up slugs in some water. He shuttered a bit just thinking about the taste. "Aliens..." he muttered under his breath. He got to the server room and saw the commander suddenly lose all her anger at whatever Annalynn had said. He leaned in and tossed the duct tape. "Hey, I miss her too. She's the first person to actually want me on a ship. This tape's on her." He leaned on the wall and his face went white. His shoulder must have been on the edge of dislocation because leaning on that door finished the job. "I uh... I'm gonna go see Cason..." He ducked his head and hurried to find the doctor once more.	NAME: Christian Malory RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Black market trader (although the ship lists him as a security officer) RACE: Human AGE: 26 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Coming out of a planet on the edge of union territory, Christian never had the easiest time getting by. His whole life he was surrounded by the poorest and rudest of beings in the universe. He saw his fair share of shady deals go down and through this built a network of traders in the black market. Whenever he needed anything, or a close friend did he was the guy who could get it far faster than any official could, and generally at higher quality too. Problem was that he was pricier. He began to make a name for himself and built an interplanetary network that reached into the heart of the union, and he made his way hitchhiking around the union territory grabbing the illegal or rare items he needed before a captain decided his... connections would be useful for his ship and crew. Ever since then he's been masquerading as a security guard on the scouting ship, while handling all of their relations to an underground criminal market operations. PERSONALITY: Growing up in one of the shittiest (can we swear?) planets, not much scares him. He grew up with guns and knives pointed at him. He's slow to trust but loyal to anyone that he deems a friend. He has a strangely optimistic view of most people despite his upbringing. He doesn't take threats seriously, other than those of his crew mates. He's a bit trigger happy as well, not truly valuing the lives of anyone he doesn't trust. At least he knows who not to mouth off to. TALENTS:Diplomacy in general. He can fake being posh and noble, as well as getting along with street rats Decent aim Can find a place to stay in almost any city, quality not guaranteed to be good FLAWS: He is a bit too ready to take a life His mood can change very fast depending on the topic of conversation. His past isn't really up for public review. I fully understand if this character idea is also not too fitting for this RP. But I made it based off of the whole "However, because the ship really doesn’t need another reprimand on its record" part of the description. Again, I might just be too eager after finishing firefly just last week.
49,335	1,332	33	991	1,987	Roy was about to say something but when he looked up Malory was already gone, like a ghost. He thought for a moment that the security officer hadn't even been there and that he was just going crazy from too many sleepless hours. Still he figured he should've investigated whatever was going on, so he quickly finished his salad, folded up his book and rose out of his seat, right as the alien crewman Vas walked into the mess hall, not saying a word to the doctor. He quietly exited the room and briefly wandered the hallways before he turned towards the server room after hearing voices, including Malory's. Roy entered the room right in the midst of Malory muttering something about seeing him, his complexion a mess, he clearly looked to be in intense pain as well. "What the hell happened to you? Did you walk into a wall or something?" He asked the man, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.	NAME: Dr. Roy Cason RANK: Lieutenant commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Medical, chief medical officer (Head doctor, physician and surgeon) RACE: Human AGE: 38 GENDER: Male APPEARANCE: A skinnier man of average height, 5'9, Roy dresses like a doctor would, slacks, a button up shirt with a tie, a white coat and boots fit for a ship. He is in fine shape with a sharp diet but is no physical specimen. SHORT BIO: Born deep in Union space, Roy Cason has always dreamed of exploring the stars ever since he was a little colony kid. He was an outstanding student who early on knew he wanted to become something in the medical field. After years of hard work he acquired all of the proper degrees he decided to enlist in the Union Fleet which he did. After that he was all over the place, stationed and colonies and other times ships. It didn't really matter to him though he enjoyed ships much more which may have lead to him ending up on the USS Audacia as the chief medical officer. He was eager about the opportunity, happy to once again be on a ship with a crew of all kinds of people. PERSONALITY: Roy is a peculiar man, normally very quiet and to himself unless dealing with a patient, in which his demeanor seems to change. His words are honest and straightforward, he does not sugarcoat anything and takes his job extremely seriously. He's a man of strong moral convictions which hold the preciousness of life, human or other above all else. In other words he is a humanist that cares about organic life. He's fascinated by life and all of its questions as well as space and the 'little miracles'. TALENTS: - An extremely skilled doctor, physician and surgeon with years of experience to back up a high level of knowledge in the medical field. He has admitted to being most skilled in dealing with human based medicine, but has knowledge of many different species. He possesses a keen understanding of biology, which includes humans and a multitude of other known species. - Works great under pressure and in high intensity situations. Surgery while the ship is under fire? No problem. Reattaching an arm while the owner is bleeding out? Not an issue. He doesn't panic. FLAWS: - He's a pacifist. He strongly believes that a nonviolent solution is often the most effective, and dislikes war and conflict in general. He will only resort to it as a means of defense either to himself or someone else, never as an aggressor. He's fine with serving on a ship full of military personal, just he himself doesn't want anything to do with the combat. - Not particularly skilled in combat, while he knows how to aim and fire a gun, he's not anything special with one. Also while he keeps his body in shape, he isn't a fighter. - Hates being ordered around. While he will listen to a commanding office, he hates being ordered around like a grunt. He's a doctor, dammit. - Dr. Roy can be very blunt and forward, sometimes to an extreme point. He'll give his exact, honest opinions when asked to. Comes with being a doctor and having to tell people harsh truths.
49,336	1,332	34	2,338	426	Vas knew Mallory had passed by again and looked at him. He could read that loser's heart clearly even as he ate. It would be awkward having the ship's 'requisition' guy on his bad side, but he could of course care less. He didn't need anything specifically, and had no need to find something to buy from the scumbag. Vas drank his soup quickly, unable to savor the taste of fake Glowy Slug. He relaxed a bit, lifting his boots on top of the table and layed his head back. He hadn't been able to really sleep since he shipped off to be with these human, but for some reason he just felt comfortable enough to doze for the moment. Someone would bother him soon. Someone always did. For now, he would just enjoy the moment.	NAME (Clan Name, Given Name): Rockland Vas RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Pilot, Navigator AGE: 234 years old, or 54 compared to human biology. GENDER: Male RACE: Warock - Warocks are sentient carbon-based life forms from the planet Chernohaz, a hazardous world constantly being ravaged by sandstorms. All Warocks are blind, evolving past the need for eyes and use gills located near the base of their necks to breath and use other senses to "see". All Warocks also have rough, rock-like exoskeletons that makes them tough beings. Politically, Warocks trade and are allied with most species. They are allied with The Union. SHORT BIO: Rockland Vas, (who just prefers Vas), is a former fighter pilot and special agent of the Warock Military. In his earlier years, Vas would pilot solo missions for his military or work on the ground for joint operations against the Saerans and rogue forces in his home system. After years of decorated service, Vas took an easy job aboard the USS Audacia as the ship's new navigator. Vas would never retire fully from service, but taking this gig felt like R&R compared to shit he's had to do in the past. PERSONALITY: Dry humored Uninterested Nonsocial Easily tempered Womanizer Talents: Hard worker Military Training Ace Fighter Pilot Trained Navigator Alien Exoskeleton Survival Training Flaws: Cannot "see" Harsh demeanor Stubbornness Anti-social Easily tempered Womanizer
49,337	1,332	35	1,032	421	Maggie's eyes lit up with unholy glee over the new roll of duct tape in her hands. Yeah, she knew the stuff was like crack, didn't mean it wasn't damned useful. ...and possibly responsible for about half of the lightning-fast repairs she'd made lately. Shut up, it wasn't like the Captain was around to make inspections. "Yesssss," she hissed, petting it like an animal before she realized Annalynn was still there. Mason cleared her throat, straightening up and flapping a hand at the science chief. "Go look after your science babies or something, I can finish up here. And if Cap ever gets back, you might as well have plausible deniability, right?" Whistling cheerfully to herself, Maggie stuck her head back into the server block and got back to work.	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,338	1,332	36	784	1,231	Close... I got caught between a rock and a hard place. Except it was you know, a rock that could punch and that wall right there was the hard place. Just uh... Just fix it? Malory clenched his teeth tightly and he was breathing slow but hard. He couldn't exactly focus on anything other than the pain in his shoulder. He heard the hissing of the commander and knew he was on her good side for now at least. He would probably talk about payment once the cap was back. For not though, he felt like giving her the tape roll free was the right thing to do. "Is it broken? I swear if I see that rock again I'm gonna... I don't know yet. But something is gonna happen." Malory was in too much pain to think about the terrible things to do to a blind rock. Maybe get some googly eyes and put them on his face. Yeah. That'll show him. He heard the voice of the cartographer and gave the doctor a look of 'Get me out of here before I dislocate his shoulder.'	NAME: Christian Malory RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Black market trader (although the ship lists him as a security officer) RACE: Human AGE: 26 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Coming out of a planet on the edge of union territory, Christian never had the easiest time getting by. His whole life he was surrounded by the poorest and rudest of beings in the universe. He saw his fair share of shady deals go down and through this built a network of traders in the black market. Whenever he needed anything, or a close friend did he was the guy who could get it far faster than any official could, and generally at higher quality too. Problem was that he was pricier. He began to make a name for himself and built an interplanetary network that reached into the heart of the union, and he made his way hitchhiking around the union territory grabbing the illegal or rare items he needed before a captain decided his... connections would be useful for his ship and crew. Ever since then he's been masquerading as a security guard on the scouting ship, while handling all of their relations to an underground criminal market operations. PERSONALITY: Growing up in one of the shittiest (can we swear?) planets, not much scares him. He grew up with guns and knives pointed at him. He's slow to trust but loyal to anyone that he deems a friend. He has a strangely optimistic view of most people despite his upbringing. He doesn't take threats seriously, other than those of his crew mates. He's a bit trigger happy as well, not truly valuing the lives of anyone he doesn't trust. At least he knows who not to mouth off to. TALENTS:Diplomacy in general. He can fake being posh and noble, as well as getting along with street rats Decent aim Can find a place to stay in almost any city, quality not guaranteed to be good FLAWS: He is a bit too ready to take a life His mood can change very fast depending on the topic of conversation. His past isn't really up for public review. I fully understand if this character idea is also not too fitting for this RP. But I made it based off of the whole "However, because the ship really doesn’t need another reprimand on its record" part of the description. Again, I might just be too eager after finishing firefly just last week.
49,339	1,332	37	991	1,987	Annalynn could only smirk at Maggie's rant about procedure. However, the more solemn turn in the conversation quickly ended that. As Christian returned with the duct tape, Annalynn was pleased to see Maggie light up again - the way things were going, Annalynn might have to stock up on a stash of duct tape just to keep Maggie going. The ship needed her to keep it together, after all. "You may be one of the smartest people I know besides myself, but you're a fucking animal, Nuts," Annalynn grinned, getting up from where she had been kneeling. "I still need our simulator fixed. My technological know-how only goes so far." She turned to exit as Lieutenant Conado came in, awkward as ever. He was a nice guy, however, and Annalynn had no problem with him. She gave a nod in greeting, "Lieutenant. Good to see you, as well. Unfortunately, our nicknames were not planned, as I've been called Bolts since long before I even graduated. In any case, I should get going. Grab a bite before heading back to the lab." Annalynn excused herself from the server room to grab a sandwich from the cafeteria.	NAME: Dr. Roy Cason RANK: Lieutenant commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Medical, chief medical officer (Head doctor, physician and surgeon) RACE: Human AGE: 38 GENDER: Male APPEARANCE: A skinnier man of average height, 5'9, Roy dresses like a doctor would, slacks, a button up shirt with a tie, a white coat and boots fit for a ship. He is in fine shape with a sharp diet but is no physical specimen. SHORT BIO: Born deep in Union space, Roy Cason has always dreamed of exploring the stars ever since he was a little colony kid. He was an outstanding student who early on knew he wanted to become something in the medical field. After years of hard work he acquired all of the proper degrees he decided to enlist in the Union Fleet which he did. After that he was all over the place, stationed and colonies and other times ships. It didn't really matter to him though he enjoyed ships much more which may have lead to him ending up on the USS Audacia as the chief medical officer. He was eager about the opportunity, happy to once again be on a ship with a crew of all kinds of people. PERSONALITY: Roy is a peculiar man, normally very quiet and to himself unless dealing with a patient, in which his demeanor seems to change. His words are honest and straightforward, he does not sugarcoat anything and takes his job extremely seriously. He's a man of strong moral convictions which hold the preciousness of life, human or other above all else. In other words he is a humanist that cares about organic life. He's fascinated by life and all of its questions as well as space and the 'little miracles'. TALENTS: - An extremely skilled doctor, physician and surgeon with years of experience to back up a high level of knowledge in the medical field. He has admitted to being most skilled in dealing with human based medicine, but has knowledge of many different species. He possesses a keen understanding of biology, which includes humans and a multitude of other known species. - Works great under pressure and in high intensity situations. Surgery while the ship is under fire? No problem. Reattaching an arm while the owner is bleeding out? Not an issue. He doesn't panic. FLAWS: - He's a pacifist. He strongly believes that a nonviolent solution is often the most effective, and dislikes war and conflict in general. He will only resort to it as a means of defense either to himself or someone else, never as an aggressor. He's fine with serving on a ship full of military personal, just he himself doesn't want anything to do with the combat. - Not particularly skilled in combat, while he knows how to aim and fire a gun, he's not anything special with one. Also while he keeps his body in shape, he isn't a fighter. - Hates being ordered around. While he will listen to a commanding office, he hates being ordered around like a grunt. He's a doctor, dammit. - Dr. Roy can be very blunt and forward, sometimes to an extreme point. He'll give his exact, honest opinions when asked to. Comes with being a doctor and having to tell people harsh truths.
49,340	1,332	38	784	1,231	Malory nodded at the nurses and took a seat on the table. He looked around the medical bay and all of a sudden his face went from as if he'd seen a ghost to that of a kid in a candy shop. He was taking note of every drug he could see. He was taking a mental inventory of what was there and how much it could go for and thinking about who he could sell it to. Hell, there were people on this ship right now who would pay a good price for this stuff. Prescription painkillers, stimulants, syringes and more. All kinds of drugs that he could sell or trade with. It's amazing how fast his mind was taken off of the pain when he entered this room. "So uh. what's wrong with it? It doesn't feel broken but it fuckin' hurts." he said, still staring at the painkillers he deemed to be the most valuable. His speech was slow and making it entirely obvious he was focusing on something else.	NAME: Christian Malory RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Black market trader (although the ship lists him as a security officer) RACE: Human AGE: 26 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Coming out of a planet on the edge of union territory, Christian never had the easiest time getting by. His whole life he was surrounded by the poorest and rudest of beings in the universe. He saw his fair share of shady deals go down and through this built a network of traders in the black market. Whenever he needed anything, or a close friend did he was the guy who could get it far faster than any official could, and generally at higher quality too. Problem was that he was pricier. He began to make a name for himself and built an interplanetary network that reached into the heart of the union, and he made his way hitchhiking around the union territory grabbing the illegal or rare items he needed before a captain decided his... connections would be useful for his ship and crew. Ever since then he's been masquerading as a security guard on the scouting ship, while handling all of their relations to an underground criminal market operations. PERSONALITY: Growing up in one of the shittiest (can we swear?) planets, not much scares him. He grew up with guns and knives pointed at him. He's slow to trust but loyal to anyone that he deems a friend. He has a strangely optimistic view of most people despite his upbringing. He doesn't take threats seriously, other than those of his crew mates. He's a bit trigger happy as well, not truly valuing the lives of anyone he doesn't trust. At least he knows who not to mouth off to. TALENTS:Diplomacy in general. He can fake being posh and noble, as well as getting along with street rats Decent aim Can find a place to stay in almost any city, quality not guaranteed to be good FLAWS: He is a bit too ready to take a life His mood can change very fast depending on the topic of conversation. His past isn't really up for public review. I fully understand if this character idea is also not too fitting for this RP. But I made it based off of the whole "However, because the ship really doesn’t need another reprimand on its record" part of the description. Again, I might just be too eager after finishing firefly just last week.
49,341	1,332	39	991	1,987	We'll see, won't we? Roy said as he hovered an electronic device over the injured area, an x-ray. Through it a in depth view of the bones could be seen. The doctor gave it a long look, just to make sure he was certain what he was looking at. Then he spoke in a reassuring tone, his eyes looking up to find Malory gazing off towards something. "Well, the good news is that it is just a dislocation. Should be fine as long as you avoid any more fights and rest the arm enough." He added, then carefully grasped the shoulder bones and gentle maneuvered it, having done the same action many times before to previous patients of his. "The pain should subside, though if you want I can prescribe you some relievers for the pain. Just take it easy, no more fights, doctor's orders." He said.	NAME: Dr. Roy Cason RANK: Lieutenant commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Medical, chief medical officer (Head doctor, physician and surgeon) RACE: Human AGE: 38 GENDER: Male APPEARANCE: A skinnier man of average height, 5'9, Roy dresses like a doctor would, slacks, a button up shirt with a tie, a white coat and boots fit for a ship. He is in fine shape with a sharp diet but is no physical specimen. SHORT BIO: Born deep in Union space, Roy Cason has always dreamed of exploring the stars ever since he was a little colony kid. He was an outstanding student who early on knew he wanted to become something in the medical field. After years of hard work he acquired all of the proper degrees he decided to enlist in the Union Fleet which he did. After that he was all over the place, stationed and colonies and other times ships. It didn't really matter to him though he enjoyed ships much more which may have lead to him ending up on the USS Audacia as the chief medical officer. He was eager about the opportunity, happy to once again be on a ship with a crew of all kinds of people. PERSONALITY: Roy is a peculiar man, normally very quiet and to himself unless dealing with a patient, in which his demeanor seems to change. His words are honest and straightforward, he does not sugarcoat anything and takes his job extremely seriously. He's a man of strong moral convictions which hold the preciousness of life, human or other above all else. In other words he is a humanist that cares about organic life. He's fascinated by life and all of its questions as well as space and the 'little miracles'. TALENTS: - An extremely skilled doctor, physician and surgeon with years of experience to back up a high level of knowledge in the medical field. He has admitted to being most skilled in dealing with human based medicine, but has knowledge of many different species. He possesses a keen understanding of biology, which includes humans and a multitude of other known species. - Works great under pressure and in high intensity situations. Surgery while the ship is under fire? No problem. Reattaching an arm while the owner is bleeding out? Not an issue. He doesn't panic. FLAWS: - He's a pacifist. He strongly believes that a nonviolent solution is often the most effective, and dislikes war and conflict in general. He will only resort to it as a means of defense either to himself or someone else, never as an aggressor. He's fine with serving on a ship full of military personal, just he himself doesn't want anything to do with the combat. - Not particularly skilled in combat, while he knows how to aim and fire a gun, he's not anything special with one. Also while he keeps his body in shape, he isn't a fighter. - Hates being ordered around. While he will listen to a commanding office, he hates being ordered around like a grunt. He's a doctor, dammit. - Dr. Roy can be very blunt and forward, sometimes to an extreme point. He'll give his exact, honest opinions when asked to. Comes with being a doctor and having to tell people harsh truths.
49,342	1,332	40	2,541	1,618	An unusually firm hand laid what felt like a bear's grip on Ensign Mallory's shoulder, squeezing the dislocated joint. "Hey Christian. Stop acting like you're going to fucking case the joint and come help me with something." Turning around, he would notice his superior officer was carrying an armful of protein and granola bars, Snickers, Babe Ruths, 3 Musketeers, and (most appropriately of all) Milky Ways. Behind her was a service cart loaded up with box after box of the same, hundreds if not thousands of energy-intensive candy bars packed with carbs and sugars. She chewed on a partially opened Snickers, handling it like one of her cigars. Presumably she wanted him to push the cart. "What, are you deaf Mallory? I said now, ya big baby." Kal said it sternly, meaning Mallory didn't have much of a choice in the matter. You see, the boss lady was more than aware of the illicit business he conducted at port and aboard the ship. It was hard to fool the eyes and ears of a super-soldier, but thankfully for the Ensign, anything that may have constituted a potential breach of protocol aboard the ship didn't seem to bother her if it didn't involve a smoking gun barrel or a bare-knuckles fist-fight. She let him do his business unmolested whether he realized it or not, and even kept a secret from the others, but such patience had its limits...	NAME: Dr. Annalynn O’Neil, commonly nicknamed Bolts RANK: Technically a Commander as she heads the Sciences department, but has the real-life military experience of a rookie. DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Sciences, Department Head (Weapons R&D Focus) RACE: Human AGE: 34 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Measuring up at a meager 5’3 and barely breaking a hundred and ten pounds, it’s not hard to see why Annalynn isn’t the military type. She’s often well dressed and in clean, well-kept condition - impressive, given that she spends much of her time on military ships. SHORT BIO: Annalynn was born into a military family with a long line of members serving in the Union Fleet. With a doctorate in mechanical physics, additional degrees in politics and psychology, and a lifetime of experience putting weapons together both large and small scale, Annalynn was approached by the Union Fleet to run weapons development programs on its ships. It was an easy choice for her, given the pressure from her family. However, by the time she served on her first ship, she was 32, having spent much of her life in school. As such, her practical experience is extremely limited, though it’s hard to argue with her intellect. PERSONALITY: If she wasn’t a scientist, Annalynn would probably have been a politician. She is extremely good at maintaining her composure in heated social situations, and is an intensely charismatic individual, sometimes to the point of overwhelming those around her. She’s an extrovert, of course, but she’s not obnoxious about it - Annalynn knows how to mind her manners. In addition, Annalynn stands by the age-old idiom, “knowledge is power.” She places intellect and facts before anything else, though the well-being of her friends and colleagues is a close second on her list of priorities. TALENTS: She can build you a gun, and a damn good one at that. It doesn’t matter how big or small it is, Annalynn can build it. Maintains her composure in heated situations better than most politicians An excellent people person Strong respect for the chain of command FLAWS: Physically a very weak person No combat or tactical experience Relentlessly holds to her opinion until proven wrong. At least she’ll be polite about it. Strong respect for the chain of command (hey, some people see it as a fault!)
49,343	1,332	41	580	1,924	Amy watched silently as events escalated in the server room. She made sure to stay clear of everyone's way, but she felt like pulling her sidearm and bellowing for those fighting to leave. The thought of using her Deck to call the Administrative head down to get everyone out echoed in her head, but the thought disappeared as some of the worse of the idiots in the room left. The assistant N-N poked his head in to see what had happened, but quickly disappeared. "Tawha eth kafuc didi yathe od ot eth raserve?" She mumbled to herself, before shaking her head. "While authority is here, I need to ask in the next staff meeting that the damn fucking keycard security be updated! Only the networkers and higher rankers are supposed to have access into here." Amy shook her head. "And by the way, the servers are still up. While the servers being down would help them cool, they need to be up or we'll have a mob at our door again." She tapped on her Deck, which was beeping with every message she got. "You know what, this is it." With a groan, she rapidly typed out a message and sent it out on the shipwide network. All users, priority Network usage is now on Restricted level. Only ranks Lieutenant+ and bridge crew (along with Neural Networks (standard protocol, nothing special)) are able to message. Thanks to the overflux, the server is overheated. Thank you for your cooperation Amy Skydawner Neural Networks Manager Amy sighed, looking back up and watching Mason along with the others, looking flustered.	NAME: Yam Yaskradawne (Amy Skydawner) RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Neural Networks operator - A neural networks operator controls administrative things, and sorts out things. If someone sends a report of a pipe needing repaired, the operator would organised a repair team to be sent. They also control things such as the ship's internet, viewing security cameras and monitoring what the crew does and making sure that they don't do anything breaking laws or restrictions. They have access to all of the machines, so they can check status, and help with things such as robotic refueling of fighter craft, etc. The Neural networks operator carries around an Admin Deck to interface with the ship if they are away from their terminal. RACE: Zenohunt (allied with Union, however with seperate fleets and militaries) - Zenohunts are human, however they have a mixed variety of what appears to be almost Earth animal features. Some may have the tail of a dog, others may have the ears of a cat. Only a tiny percentage have wings, and an even smaller percentage of them can actually fly. For this, Zenohunts are often reffered to as the 'alternate universe of Humans', of DNA that could mix with that of animals. In truth, nobody knows how Zenohunts came to be alike the Earth species. Some tribes of Zenohunts think Zariana chose for them to be that way. Zariana is the god of all Zenohunts. She watches over them, and blesses them, ensuring they are well. Zenohunts never left their home system when they gained space technology. There were only three planets in their star system, Lemea, Popel and Candor, along with many, many asteroids, both individual and in varying sizes of belts, though the only major cities would be found on Lemea. Those two cities are the only two cities that are left untouched in the endless Zenohunt war. Ehop and Yasanctuar (Hope and Sanctuary, in English) will forever remain the two only cities in Zenohunt territory. Asteroids and planets are not the only thing that you would find in the Zenohunt star system. Upon arrival, one would gasp at the sheer amount of ship debris in the system. Countless bases hidden in the asteroids showed that the Zenohunts were unmovable from their system. If a mysterious ship were to show up, it would die by either a Zenohunt battle group or by a hidden weapons platform, dug deep into an asteroid. The only reason that Humans survived when they arrived was because they came upon one of the more civilized of Zenohunt groups. Peace was agreed toward the Humans, however Zenohunts still battled eachother frequently because of disputes and other matters. Zenohunts speak 'Zenospeak', however they began learning English as well once Humans came along. One of the main facts of Zenohunts is that they are taught what they want to be when they are older from a very young age. If a child says, "Mommy, I wanna be a police man when I'm older", guess what? He's probably going to end up in a security role. If some little girl watches to much news and TV and says "Daddy, I want to work with MTA cannons!" They'll be working either as a gunner or tactical weapons officer on a ship. Something frowned upon by other races is that yes, Zenohunts train their young to be what they first said without a change of mind, however Zenohunt young will literally be what they want at a young age, or be something similar. For example, a Zenohunt learning to be a gunner will probably have the chance to be a Coota (one of various Zenohunt vehicles. Specifically, a Coota is a small vehicle that is literally a car with a machine gun on it. Young gunners use those as they require very little experience to use.) gunner at the age of fourteen. Obviously, higher roles, such as manning a tank, will require an older age and/or a lot more training. AGE: 19 GENDER: Female This image, however, she has the ears of a grey wolf, and the tail of a grey wolf. SHORT BIO: Amy was born in Yasanctuar, so she was safe from a lot of the fighting that happened occasionally on Lemea. However, this sanctuary didn't go on for long. "I want to be a computer lady on a ship flying through space!" That sentence sentenced her to training in the navy. At fifteen years old, with a final exam passing of 90%, she was flown to space and stationed on a frigate in the Yasanctuar navy. From that point on, she went ship hopping, one time because of a promotion to Ensign, another time because of an attack that ended up with her ship being damaged to the point where personnel were forced to use their escape cells, but mainly just because of re-assignment, even to Union ships. That eventually ended up with her being stationed on the USS Audacia. PERSONALITY: +Friendly +Supportive =+Tries to socialize =Slightly shy =-Easy to frighten =-Slightly upsetable -Gets angry to those who speak badly of Zenohunt religion toward Zariana TALENTS/FLAWS: +Able to manage her role well +Formal during work-time +Trained in hand-to-hand and short-range weapon combat =-Has mood shifts every-so-often -Tends to attack if threatened
49,344	1,332	42	784	1,231	Quickly being brought back to reality by a supersoldier grabbing his just put back in place shoulder as if he there was no problem with that. He hissed in pain a sharp breath as he clenched his teeth and eyes once more. "Fuck." he let out as an angry whisper. Kal began talking to him, she was one of the few people who knew his true job on the ship and DIDN'T buy anything off of him. It was surprising, but what could someone with one of the few things he couldn't get his hands on want from him? Nanomachines were not something the union let slip out of their hands and into people like his. He heard his orders and expected to go check some rooms but noticed a cart full of... Candy bars? "Um. Why are there so many candy bars? Shit hurt before, I don't need the bone turning into dust." He put his hand on hers, not even trying to pull it away. "Am I pushing this cart?" He wanted to yell about her grabbing his freshly relocated and still very much in pain shoulder but he had to focus on playing off getting caught looking at the pain pills and various other drugs. "And doc, just give me the strongest stuff you got, put it infront of my door in a box DISCREETLY. There's a small panel at the bottom right, just needs a kick and it'll open. Hide it in there, if it's not empty, don't read any labels." Malory hopped off of the table. He couldn't remember if he had taken the few bottles of a paralyzing neurotoxin he was bringing to a buyer in union territory only produced by animals on the planet they just left. Shit paralyzed you for up to three days, very VERY illegal, but very valuable as well. Let's hope he put it somewhere safer.	NAME: Christian Malory RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Black market trader (although the ship lists him as a security officer) RACE: Human AGE: 26 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Coming out of a planet on the edge of union territory, Christian never had the easiest time getting by. His whole life he was surrounded by the poorest and rudest of beings in the universe. He saw his fair share of shady deals go down and through this built a network of traders in the black market. Whenever he needed anything, or a close friend did he was the guy who could get it far faster than any official could, and generally at higher quality too. Problem was that he was pricier. He began to make a name for himself and built an interplanetary network that reached into the heart of the union, and he made his way hitchhiking around the union territory grabbing the illegal or rare items he needed before a captain decided his... connections would be useful for his ship and crew. Ever since then he's been masquerading as a security guard on the scouting ship, while handling all of their relations to an underground criminal market operations. PERSONALITY: Growing up in one of the shittiest (can we swear?) planets, not much scares him. He grew up with guns and knives pointed at him. He's slow to trust but loyal to anyone that he deems a friend. He has a strangely optimistic view of most people despite his upbringing. He doesn't take threats seriously, other than those of his crew mates. He's a bit trigger happy as well, not truly valuing the lives of anyone he doesn't trust. At least he knows who not to mouth off to. TALENTS:Diplomacy in general. He can fake being posh and noble, as well as getting along with street rats Decent aim Can find a place to stay in almost any city, quality not guaranteed to be good FLAWS: He is a bit too ready to take a life His mood can change very fast depending on the topic of conversation. His past isn't really up for public review. I fully understand if this character idea is also not too fitting for this RP. But I made it based off of the whole "However, because the ship really doesn’t need another reprimand on its record" part of the description. Again, I might just be too eager after finishing firefly just last week.
49,345	1,332	43	1,032	421	HA! Maggie yelled, hitting the server block with a fist for good measure. She'd finally gotten the damn thing working again—the overheated or broken motherboards had been replaced with some questionable soldering, bits of wire, and duct tape, with enough coolant to drown a rhino thrown in for good measure. They'd have to actually make repairs and replacements soon, but not just yet. Dusting her hands off and sticking her tools back in the bag on her hip, Mason glanced over at the Zenohunt who was...still here? For some reason? "Good idea restricting access," she said absently, before blinking and looking around at the newcomers. "Wait, shit. Where's the StelCart guy—right here, okay, that's convenient. What's your name—Tornado? Conair? Conado, that's it—Conado, how close are we to Iorus II? I want to get a department meeting in before we have to go groundside." She looked back to Skydawner, raising her eyebrows. "You can get everybody together in the meeting room, yeah?"	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,346	1,332	44	580	1,924	Amy gave a salute to the commander, saying a simple "Yes ma'am. Can do," before tapping on her deck, selecting all of the department heads (including the commander before her). Normally, an administrator would send out a message like this, however, with the network set to be restricted, Amy could understand why the commander wanted her to type it. That, or it was just pure laziness, as she could type out a message herself if she wanted. Creating a new message and marking it as high priority, she began typing. All department heads, priority Commander Mason is calling a meeting in the meeting room, now. All department heads are to head to the meeting room as soon as possible. Regards Amy Skydawner Neural Networks Manager PS: You may wish to hurry. Commander Mason will probably not appreciate people being late, as she has been very busy today. Amy hit send, before looking back at the mail, her eyes resting on the words 'Amy Skydawner'. She always felt a little funny using the human translation of her name. Back in Yasanctuar's navy, she would usually write: Daregars Yam Yaskradawne Laneura Kanetwors Ramanage Looking up at commander Mason, she spoke. "Ma'am, the message has been sent. Orders?"	NAME: Yam Yaskradawne (Amy Skydawner) RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Neural Networks operator - A neural networks operator controls administrative things, and sorts out things. If someone sends a report of a pipe needing repaired, the operator would organised a repair team to be sent. They also control things such as the ship's internet, viewing security cameras and monitoring what the crew does and making sure that they don't do anything breaking laws or restrictions. They have access to all of the machines, so they can check status, and help with things such as robotic refueling of fighter craft, etc. The Neural networks operator carries around an Admin Deck to interface with the ship if they are away from their terminal. RACE: Zenohunt (allied with Union, however with seperate fleets and militaries) - Zenohunts are human, however they have a mixed variety of what appears to be almost Earth animal features. Some may have the tail of a dog, others may have the ears of a cat. Only a tiny percentage have wings, and an even smaller percentage of them can actually fly. For this, Zenohunts are often reffered to as the 'alternate universe of Humans', of DNA that could mix with that of animals. In truth, nobody knows how Zenohunts came to be alike the Earth species. Some tribes of Zenohunts think Zariana chose for them to be that way. Zariana is the god of all Zenohunts. She watches over them, and blesses them, ensuring they are well. Zenohunts never left their home system when they gained space technology. There were only three planets in their star system, Lemea, Popel and Candor, along with many, many asteroids, both individual and in varying sizes of belts, though the only major cities would be found on Lemea. Those two cities are the only two cities that are left untouched in the endless Zenohunt war. Ehop and Yasanctuar (Hope and Sanctuary, in English) will forever remain the two only cities in Zenohunt territory. Asteroids and planets are not the only thing that you would find in the Zenohunt star system. Upon arrival, one would gasp at the sheer amount of ship debris in the system. Countless bases hidden in the asteroids showed that the Zenohunts were unmovable from their system. If a mysterious ship were to show up, it would die by either a Zenohunt battle group or by a hidden weapons platform, dug deep into an asteroid. The only reason that Humans survived when they arrived was because they came upon one of the more civilized of Zenohunt groups. Peace was agreed toward the Humans, however Zenohunts still battled eachother frequently because of disputes and other matters. Zenohunts speak 'Zenospeak', however they began learning English as well once Humans came along. One of the main facts of Zenohunts is that they are taught what they want to be when they are older from a very young age. If a child says, "Mommy, I wanna be a police man when I'm older", guess what? He's probably going to end up in a security role. If some little girl watches to much news and TV and says "Daddy, I want to work with MTA cannons!" They'll be working either as a gunner or tactical weapons officer on a ship. Something frowned upon by other races is that yes, Zenohunts train their young to be what they first said without a change of mind, however Zenohunt young will literally be what they want at a young age, or be something similar. For example, a Zenohunt learning to be a gunner will probably have the chance to be a Coota (one of various Zenohunt vehicles. Specifically, a Coota is a small vehicle that is literally a car with a machine gun on it. Young gunners use those as they require very little experience to use.) gunner at the age of fourteen. Obviously, higher roles, such as manning a tank, will require an older age and/or a lot more training. AGE: 19 GENDER: Female This image, however, she has the ears of a grey wolf, and the tail of a grey wolf. SHORT BIO: Amy was born in Yasanctuar, so she was safe from a lot of the fighting that happened occasionally on Lemea. However, this sanctuary didn't go on for long. "I want to be a computer lady on a ship flying through space!" That sentence sentenced her to training in the navy. At fifteen years old, with a final exam passing of 90%, she was flown to space and stationed on a frigate in the Yasanctuar navy. From that point on, she went ship hopping, one time because of a promotion to Ensign, another time because of an attack that ended up with her ship being damaged to the point where personnel were forced to use their escape cells, but mainly just because of re-assignment, even to Union ships. That eventually ended up with her being stationed on the USS Audacia. PERSONALITY: +Friendly +Supportive =+Tries to socialize =Slightly shy =-Easy to frighten =-Slightly upsetable -Gets angry to those who speak badly of Zenohunt religion toward Zariana TALENTS/FLAWS: +Able to manage her role well +Formal during work-time +Trained in hand-to-hand and short-range weapon combat =-Has mood shifts every-so-often -Tends to attack if threatened
49,347	1,332	45	1,032	421	Uh, Maggie said intelligently. Few people asked her for orders. Even the babies down in Engineering usually just had commands yelled at them, they didn't ask for more. "Don't you have work to do? If you really wanted to, I guess you could go through the Captain's missed messages, sort them by priority—" Mason sighed, running a hand through her short, chopped hair as she headed out of the server room and toward the lift. "Ask somebody else, kid, I have no clue what the Admin staff is supposed to be doing right now."	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,348	1,332	46	580	1,924	I can't even ask the head since he's probably heading to the meeting! Amy calls out as Mason walked off. "Tadamni, she thinks to herself, shaking her head. She begins to stroll to the door between the servers and the neural networks room. As soon as the keycard reader beeped, she walked in. "Crewman Jimmy, break out the chess board." She says, sitting down. If she wasn't getting orders, she was going to enjoy her time with her Networks assistant. A smile broke out on her face as she moved her first piece.	NAME: Yam Yaskradawne (Amy Skydawner) RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Neural Networks operator - A neural networks operator controls administrative things, and sorts out things. If someone sends a report of a pipe needing repaired, the operator would organised a repair team to be sent. They also control things such as the ship's internet, viewing security cameras and monitoring what the crew does and making sure that they don't do anything breaking laws or restrictions. They have access to all of the machines, so they can check status, and help with things such as robotic refueling of fighter craft, etc. The Neural networks operator carries around an Admin Deck to interface with the ship if they are away from their terminal. RACE: Zenohunt (allied with Union, however with seperate fleets and militaries) - Zenohunts are human, however they have a mixed variety of what appears to be almost Earth animal features. Some may have the tail of a dog, others may have the ears of a cat. Only a tiny percentage have wings, and an even smaller percentage of them can actually fly. For this, Zenohunts are often reffered to as the 'alternate universe of Humans', of DNA that could mix with that of animals. In truth, nobody knows how Zenohunts came to be alike the Earth species. Some tribes of Zenohunts think Zariana chose for them to be that way. Zariana is the god of all Zenohunts. She watches over them, and blesses them, ensuring they are well. Zenohunts never left their home system when they gained space technology. There were only three planets in their star system, Lemea, Popel and Candor, along with many, many asteroids, both individual and in varying sizes of belts, though the only major cities would be found on Lemea. Those two cities are the only two cities that are left untouched in the endless Zenohunt war. Ehop and Yasanctuar (Hope and Sanctuary, in English) will forever remain the two only cities in Zenohunt territory. Asteroids and planets are not the only thing that you would find in the Zenohunt star system. Upon arrival, one would gasp at the sheer amount of ship debris in the system. Countless bases hidden in the asteroids showed that the Zenohunts were unmovable from their system. If a mysterious ship were to show up, it would die by either a Zenohunt battle group or by a hidden weapons platform, dug deep into an asteroid. The only reason that Humans survived when they arrived was because they came upon one of the more civilized of Zenohunt groups. Peace was agreed toward the Humans, however Zenohunts still battled eachother frequently because of disputes and other matters. Zenohunts speak 'Zenospeak', however they began learning English as well once Humans came along. One of the main facts of Zenohunts is that they are taught what they want to be when they are older from a very young age. If a child says, "Mommy, I wanna be a police man when I'm older", guess what? He's probably going to end up in a security role. If some little girl watches to much news and TV and says "Daddy, I want to work with MTA cannons!" They'll be working either as a gunner or tactical weapons officer on a ship. Something frowned upon by other races is that yes, Zenohunts train their young to be what they first said without a change of mind, however Zenohunt young will literally be what they want at a young age, or be something similar. For example, a Zenohunt learning to be a gunner will probably have the chance to be a Coota (one of various Zenohunt vehicles. Specifically, a Coota is a small vehicle that is literally a car with a machine gun on it. Young gunners use those as they require very little experience to use.) gunner at the age of fourteen. Obviously, higher roles, such as manning a tank, will require an older age and/or a lot more training. AGE: 19 GENDER: Female This image, however, she has the ears of a grey wolf, and the tail of a grey wolf. SHORT BIO: Amy was born in Yasanctuar, so she was safe from a lot of the fighting that happened occasionally on Lemea. However, this sanctuary didn't go on for long. "I want to be a computer lady on a ship flying through space!" That sentence sentenced her to training in the navy. At fifteen years old, with a final exam passing of 90%, she was flown to space and stationed on a frigate in the Yasanctuar navy. From that point on, she went ship hopping, one time because of a promotion to Ensign, another time because of an attack that ended up with her ship being damaged to the point where personnel were forced to use their escape cells, but mainly just because of re-assignment, even to Union ships. That eventually ended up with her being stationed on the USS Audacia. PERSONALITY: +Friendly +Supportive =+Tries to socialize =Slightly shy =-Easy to frighten =-Slightly upsetable -Gets angry to those who speak badly of Zenohunt religion toward Zariana TALENTS/FLAWS: +Able to manage her role well +Formal during work-time +Trained in hand-to-hand and short-range weapon combat =-Has mood shifts every-so-often -Tends to attack if threatened
49,349	1,332	47	2,541	1,618	The message caught Annalynn as she was about to enter the science labs. Sandwich in one hand, datapad in the other, she did a quick 180 and headed towards the meeting room. If Maggie was calling a department head meeting, she was likely even more concerned than she had already implied in their previous conversation. Not like her concern would be without reason - two days without the captain and the Audacia was already closer to resembling a pirate ship than a Union Fleet ship. In any case, Annalynn would have to keep things moving. She wrote a quick message addressed to the Science department: "To all Science personnel: Until order is restored, continue to work on your assigned tasks until further notice. That said, given that our resources are now split in three ways between upgrades to our ship's weapons, the search for our Captain, and the requests from Security (which, may I remind you, is not a priority, but must still be fulfilled in due order) I understand that the stress of the workload is a bit much to handle. But this department is more than capable of handling it and I expect our research and development to maintain a similar time frame. Remember, my door is always open. Commander Annalynn O'Neil PS And to the people working on Audacia's weapons, please remember that manual calculations are always required to support your findings in simulation. I think we all remember what happened to the USS Dudacek." Annalynn mentally shook her head at that incident. They had completely forgotten to tell the targeting computers to recognize Union ships younger than ten years and the Audacia almost fired on the Dudacek. That had only added yet another reprimand on the ship's long list... By the time the message was written and sent, Annalynn found herself at the meeting room. She allowed herself in, nodding at the security guard posting outside as she entered.	NAME: Dr. Annalynn O’Neil, commonly nicknamed Bolts RANK: Technically a Commander as she heads the Sciences department, but has the real-life military experience of a rookie. DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Sciences, Department Head (Weapons R&D Focus) RACE: Human AGE: 34 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Measuring up at a meager 5’3 and barely breaking a hundred and ten pounds, it’s not hard to see why Annalynn isn’t the military type. She’s often well dressed and in clean, well-kept condition - impressive, given that she spends much of her time on military ships. SHORT BIO: Annalynn was born into a military family with a long line of members serving in the Union Fleet. With a doctorate in mechanical physics, additional degrees in politics and psychology, and a lifetime of experience putting weapons together both large and small scale, Annalynn was approached by the Union Fleet to run weapons development programs on its ships. It was an easy choice for her, given the pressure from her family. However, by the time she served on her first ship, she was 32, having spent much of her life in school. As such, her practical experience is extremely limited, though it’s hard to argue with her intellect. PERSONALITY: If she wasn’t a scientist, Annalynn would probably have been a politician. She is extremely good at maintaining her composure in heated social situations, and is an intensely charismatic individual, sometimes to the point of overwhelming those around her. She’s an extrovert, of course, but she’s not obnoxious about it - Annalynn knows how to mind her manners. In addition, Annalynn stands by the age-old idiom, “knowledge is power.” She places intellect and facts before anything else, though the well-being of her friends and colleagues is a close second on her list of priorities. TALENTS: She can build you a gun, and a damn good one at that. It doesn’t matter how big or small it is, Annalynn can build it. Maintains her composure in heated situations better than most politicians An excellent people person Strong respect for the chain of command FLAWS: Physically a very weak person No combat or tactical experience Relentlessly holds to her opinion until proven wrong. At least she’ll be polite about it. Strong respect for the chain of command (hey, some people see it as a fault!)
49,350	1,332	48	784	1,231	The hit from Kal was a lot more gentle than anticipated. As gentle as a supersoldier could make it, Malory though to himself. "Who's bitchy in this case? With you that could mean anybody." He inquired his superior. Something was up, and if Kal was the person that got the message it was something important since very few have the ability to send her somewhere and one of those people were missing. He laid into the cart with all his weight and barely got it moving with just his one good arm. "Jesus christ, how much does this weigh?" He had to use a lot more strength than he thought, but once it was moving it was fine. And here was Kal wheeling it in like it was a wagon of girl scout cookies. "Man, I need to get some of those nanomachines. I'd love to be 6'5, 6'6. Make someone who's not me pull around candy bars. Maybe even hold some of the guns I've seen without having to prop them up on anything." He began to drift off of from pushing the cart, slowing a bit despite being told to do the job ASAP. "How much do you think your body is worth with all those nanomachines running through it? I bet you're the most expensive person I know. No lie." He looked up at her with a chuckle and a smile. She stood a good half foot taller than him and could probably kill him in a second, but to him these were words of compliment. The average person's body didn't come close to being as valuable as her's.	NAME: Christian Malory RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Black market trader (although the ship lists him as a security officer) RACE: Human AGE: 26 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Coming out of a planet on the edge of union territory, Christian never had the easiest time getting by. His whole life he was surrounded by the poorest and rudest of beings in the universe. He saw his fair share of shady deals go down and through this built a network of traders in the black market. Whenever he needed anything, or a close friend did he was the guy who could get it far faster than any official could, and generally at higher quality too. Problem was that he was pricier. He began to make a name for himself and built an interplanetary network that reached into the heart of the union, and he made his way hitchhiking around the union territory grabbing the illegal or rare items he needed before a captain decided his... connections would be useful for his ship and crew. Ever since then he's been masquerading as a security guard on the scouting ship, while handling all of their relations to an underground criminal market operations. PERSONALITY: Growing up in one of the shittiest (can we swear?) planets, not much scares him. He grew up with guns and knives pointed at him. He's slow to trust but loyal to anyone that he deems a friend. He has a strangely optimistic view of most people despite his upbringing. He doesn't take threats seriously, other than those of his crew mates. He's a bit trigger happy as well, not truly valuing the lives of anyone he doesn't trust. At least he knows who not to mouth off to. TALENTS:Diplomacy in general. He can fake being posh and noble, as well as getting along with street rats Decent aim Can find a place to stay in almost any city, quality not guaranteed to be good FLAWS: He is a bit too ready to take a life His mood can change very fast depending on the topic of conversation. His past isn't really up for public review. I fully understand if this character idea is also not too fitting for this RP. But I made it based off of the whole "However, because the ship really doesn’t need another reprimand on its record" part of the description. Again, I might just be too eager after finishing firefly just last week.
49,351	1,332	49	490	461	Kiera was aware of the events unfolding on board ship, however she was simply in no position to do anything about them and therefore elected to maintain an aura of general ignorance. Something that she was especially good at. People had a habit of seeing her as some slow, almost dim-witted creature that was oblivious to what was going on around her. The majority of the time she was happy to maintain this image. It helped immeasurably in her line of work. At the moment she had secluded herself to the ship canteen, much to the consternation of the ships cook and was mixing a bowl of what looked like cake dough. On the other side of the serving window a few crewmen looked on in horror, fearful that she was going to make them taste it. Kiera for her part was happy that some of the crew seemed so eager to try her latest creation, humming a beautiful tune as she stirred the sweet tasting doughy mixture. In the corner of the kitchen the ships cook sighed and shook his head, unable to do anything to save the next crewman that caught Kiera’s attention. Luckily the number of victims would be limited, with word of Kiera cooking spreading through the ship like wild fire that resulted in hungry crewmen and officers alike to gain superhuman endurance in an effort to avoid the kitchen. Though at least it kept costs down. After all, when Kiera was cooking men realized just how tasty military rations truly were. She stopped stirring for a moment and put her finger into the dough and sampled the mixture. She nodded in satisfaction and continued starring. This alarmed the cook as the better it seemed to taste to Kiera the worse it always seemed to be for everyone else. Luckily for all concerned a buzzing noise inside of Kiera’s coat caught her attention, causing her to put down the bowl and pull out a device that with a flick of her finger lit up the air in front of her with all kinds of data, displayed as an interactive holographic matrix. In the top corner of the screen a notification in the shape of a letter was bouncing up and down urgently. From Amy Skydawner, courtesy of Commander Mason. Sounded important. She should probably attend. It was a shame that the cake would not be ready in time. Everyone would be so disappointed.	NAME: Malcolm Conadon RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Space Cartographer and Explorer, Historian RACE: Human AGE: 27 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Malcom has always dreamed over exploring the stars. He grew up in the under-bellies of the city world Galion, so he never saw the night sky for what it truly was. Yet occasionally, on the clearest nights, when there was little air traffic, Malcom could see the faintest lights of faraway stars and he knew that he would one day explore them all. Malcom is a genius and his intelligence bought him a ticket off-world. He attended the Union Military Academy until he graduated at the age of eighteen, one of the top ten of his class. Yet unlike the rest of his classmates, he did not pursue a high-ranking position in the Union Armada. While he is a capable soldier and leader and he believes in the war effort, it is not something that he pursues. Rather, he wishes to explore the universe and all it has to offer, as he sees that as the true reason the Union was founded. There is much to learn out there in the expanse that is space and Malcolm intends to learn it all. Every star system, every planet, every species and their histories, he wants to know it all. PERSONALITY: Malcom is crazy. That is the best way to describe him. He is an eccentric, neurotic, off-his rockers type of person. He often talks in long, rushed sentences, rarely pausing for breath. This often occurs when someone mentions history, so do not mention anything historical in his presence, unless you want a light-year long lecture. Malcom is kind and likable, though. You can’t not like him. He always has a big, goofy smile on his face and he likes to make jokes, even if they aren’t always funny. He’s a lovable guy, despite all his quirks. TALENTS/FLAWS: Malcom is well versed in the history of the known universe. He could easily slip into an intellectual conversation about nearly any world. He also has nearly every star chart memorized, knowing the majority of the universe better than the back of his hand. Malcom also is somewhat skilled in combat and leadership due to his training at the Military Academy, though that is far from his strong suit. One of Malcom’s flaws is that he doesn’t know when to stop talking. He will often go on and on and on, much to the despair of his companions. He can also be quite intrusive and poke his nose into businesses he would probably be better off leaving alone. (I apologize for how similar Malcom is to the Doctor. It’s just how he came out to be as I was writing him. The picture is what is because…well because it works).
49,352	1,332	50	2,338	426	Vas stretched out when he awoke, nearly losing his balance from his chair. The sudden loss of footing woke him quickly, forcing him to smell around in panic for anyone nearby. No one was in the cafeteria, thankfully, but whomever was watching the security cameras was probably laughing their damn asses off. The Warock left the cafeteria quickly, betting that some nagging dick was probably wondering where the useless navigator was. As he made his way, he noticed Kal and Mallory down the hall with a cart full of some strange things wrapped in shiny wrappers. Vas walked up to them, in blind interest, and grabbed one of the shiny things. "Hell are these things," Vas asked as he put one up to his neck and started sniffing. "Smells like a bloody shit."	NAME (Clan Name, Given Name): Rockland Vas RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Pilot, Navigator AGE: 234 years old, or 54 compared to human biology. GENDER: Male RACE: Warock - Warocks are sentient carbon-based life forms from the planet Chernohaz, a hazardous world constantly being ravaged by sandstorms. All Warocks are blind, evolving past the need for eyes and use gills located near the base of their necks to breath and use other senses to "see". All Warocks also have rough, rock-like exoskeletons that makes them tough beings. Politically, Warocks trade and are allied with most species. They are allied with The Union. SHORT BIO: Rockland Vas, (who just prefers Vas), is a former fighter pilot and special agent of the Warock Military. In his earlier years, Vas would pilot solo missions for his military or work on the ground for joint operations against the Saerans and rogue forces in his home system. After years of decorated service, Vas took an easy job aboard the USS Audacia as the ship's new navigator. Vas would never retire fully from service, but taking this gig felt like R&R compared to shit he's had to do in the past. PERSONALITY: Dry humored Uninterested Nonsocial Easily tempered Womanizer Talents: Hard worker Military Training Ace Fighter Pilot Trained Navigator Alien Exoskeleton Survival Training Flaws: Cannot "see" Harsh demeanor Stubbornness Anti-social Easily tempered Womanizer
49,353	1,332	51	1,032	421	Maggie slouched into the meeting room just after Annalynn, and immediately flopped into a chair, kicking her greasy boots up onto the formerly pristine table. She was flicking through a datapad, organizing requests to engineering into 'shit for later', 'time wasting shit', and 'actually look at this shit.' "Mission briefing," she grunted, before realizing that was...sort of out of nowhere. "Iorus II mission is coming up, we need to decide who's going and who's cooling their heels on the ship."	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,354	1,332	52	991	1,987	Roy nodded at Malory as he made his request for the meds. He thought it was kind of odd that he wanted them delivered in such an anonymous fashion but the doctor didn't inquire about it, probably something Malory wouldn't have told him anyway. He barely even noticed that Kal had entered the room despite being such a hulking figure. The doctor had moved over towards his desk, making a note on the datapad on it with the instructions Malory had given him for the delivery as well as what meds he felt he should give to the man. As he looked up he noticed the cart full of candy which almost made him vomit, all of the sugar and calories nearly making him sick. Part of him wanted to say something about Malory moving the cart with a shoulder in weak condition, but by the time he was about to say something the two were out of medical bay, right as the doctor received a message on his datapad. He gave it a quick read, then looked towards the two nurses in the room. "I have to attend a meeting with the other department heads. Keep everything in order here. Alert me if anything urgent occurs." He said to them as he adjusted his outfit, rolling down his sleeves, tightening his tie, even running a comb through his hair. Then with a nod towards both of his subordinates as he left the medical bay, heading straight for the meeting room. He entered right as Maggie was speaking, something about a mission on a planet and who would be going down planetside. He quietly took a seat, trying not to make too much of a noise as he did it. "What exactly is the mission, ma'am? Search and rescue? Routine patrol or reconnaissance?" He asked the acting captain.	NAME: Dr. Roy Cason RANK: Lieutenant commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Medical, chief medical officer (Head doctor, physician and surgeon) RACE: Human AGE: 38 GENDER: Male APPEARANCE: A skinnier man of average height, 5'9, Roy dresses like a doctor would, slacks, a button up shirt with a tie, a white coat and boots fit for a ship. He is in fine shape with a sharp diet but is no physical specimen. SHORT BIO: Born deep in Union space, Roy Cason has always dreamed of exploring the stars ever since he was a little colony kid. He was an outstanding student who early on knew he wanted to become something in the medical field. After years of hard work he acquired all of the proper degrees he decided to enlist in the Union Fleet which he did. After that he was all over the place, stationed and colonies and other times ships. It didn't really matter to him though he enjoyed ships much more which may have lead to him ending up on the USS Audacia as the chief medical officer. He was eager about the opportunity, happy to once again be on a ship with a crew of all kinds of people. PERSONALITY: Roy is a peculiar man, normally very quiet and to himself unless dealing with a patient, in which his demeanor seems to change. His words are honest and straightforward, he does not sugarcoat anything and takes his job extremely seriously. He's a man of strong moral convictions which hold the preciousness of life, human or other above all else. In other words he is a humanist that cares about organic life. He's fascinated by life and all of its questions as well as space and the 'little miracles'. TALENTS: - An extremely skilled doctor, physician and surgeon with years of experience to back up a high level of knowledge in the medical field. He has admitted to being most skilled in dealing with human based medicine, but has knowledge of many different species. He possesses a keen understanding of biology, which includes humans and a multitude of other known species. - Works great under pressure and in high intensity situations. Surgery while the ship is under fire? No problem. Reattaching an arm while the owner is bleeding out? Not an issue. He doesn't panic. FLAWS: - He's a pacifist. He strongly believes that a nonviolent solution is often the most effective, and dislikes war and conflict in general. He will only resort to it as a means of defense either to himself or someone else, never as an aggressor. He's fine with serving on a ship full of military personal, just he himself doesn't want anything to do with the combat. - Not particularly skilled in combat, while he knows how to aim and fire a gun, he's not anything special with one. Also while he keeps his body in shape, he isn't a fighter. - Hates being ordered around. While he will listen to a commanding office, he hates being ordered around like a grunt. He's a doctor, dammit. - Dr. Roy can be very blunt and forward, sometimes to an extreme point. He'll give his exact, honest opinions when asked to. Comes with being a doctor and having to tell people harsh truths.
49,355	1,332	53	490	461	Kiera stood in the corner of the meeting room, dressed in the attire that came with the job. Not that she minded that of course since the Diplomatic Core actually got some pretty good threads compared to other branches of the government. Her shoulder length strawberry blonde hair was tied up into large ponytail as it always was when she was on duty. She stood there in silence, her eyes closed and a gentle smile on her face as if she was having a most pleasant dream, her head tilted ever so slightly onto its side. Of course that was just how Kiera was when the matter at hand did not require her direct and immediate attention. “If you don’t mind me saying so ma’am I hardly the see the need for my services down on the planet. If this were an official diplomatic mission I would have been informed already,” she said in a neutral tone as a matter of fact. As a diplomatic attaché aboard the ship her orders came not only from the Captain of said ship but also directly from the Diplomatic Core, the latter of which often overrode the former. “With that said if you have need of my linguistic skills you have only to ask,” she offered after only the slightest of pauses.	NAME: Malcolm Conadon RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Space Cartographer and Explorer, Historian RACE: Human AGE: 27 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Malcom has always dreamed over exploring the stars. He grew up in the under-bellies of the city world Galion, so he never saw the night sky for what it truly was. Yet occasionally, on the clearest nights, when there was little air traffic, Malcom could see the faintest lights of faraway stars and he knew that he would one day explore them all. Malcom is a genius and his intelligence bought him a ticket off-world. He attended the Union Military Academy until he graduated at the age of eighteen, one of the top ten of his class. Yet unlike the rest of his classmates, he did not pursue a high-ranking position in the Union Armada. While he is a capable soldier and leader and he believes in the war effort, it is not something that he pursues. Rather, he wishes to explore the universe and all it has to offer, as he sees that as the true reason the Union was founded. There is much to learn out there in the expanse that is space and Malcolm intends to learn it all. Every star system, every planet, every species and their histories, he wants to know it all. PERSONALITY: Malcom is crazy. That is the best way to describe him. He is an eccentric, neurotic, off-his rockers type of person. He often talks in long, rushed sentences, rarely pausing for breath. This often occurs when someone mentions history, so do not mention anything historical in his presence, unless you want a light-year long lecture. Malcom is kind and likable, though. You can’t not like him. He always has a big, goofy smile on his face and he likes to make jokes, even if they aren’t always funny. He’s a lovable guy, despite all his quirks. TALENTS/FLAWS: Malcom is well versed in the history of the known universe. He could easily slip into an intellectual conversation about nearly any world. He also has nearly every star chart memorized, knowing the majority of the universe better than the back of his hand. Malcom also is somewhat skilled in combat and leadership due to his training at the Military Academy, though that is far from his strong suit. One of Malcom’s flaws is that he doesn’t know when to stop talking. He will often go on and on and on, much to the despair of his companions. He can also be quite intrusive and poke his nose into businesses he would probably be better off leaving alone. (I apologize for how similar Malcom is to the Doctor. It’s just how he came out to be as I was writing him. The picture is what is because…well because it works).
49,356	1,332	54	2,541	1,618	5.6 billion credits for each year in development, 500 million per individual unit. She looked at Ensign Christian. "That means me. Also, I don't know if you're trying to appraise me or hit on me, but stop it. It's really fucking weird. Flattering in that 'being worshipped by the little furry men on Endor' kinda way, but weird." Kal turned around and snatched the candy bar out of Vas' hand without looking. "They're called candy bars, Rock-Biter. Little cookies and nuts covered in caramel and chocolate. I'd say you have a sense of humor for comparing them to turds, but that would mean you could actually see what you're fucking looking at, and we'd all look like shit-for-brains instead of just one of us then, now wouldn't we?" The super-soldier ripped the candy bar in half and shoved a piece in her mouth, wrapper and all, making exaggerated chewing noises. "By the way, they're fucking delicious." She swallowed, and went out of her way to burp as close to Vas' gills as possible. Let him get a wiff of that.	NAME: Dr. Annalynn O’Neil, commonly nicknamed Bolts RANK: Technically a Commander as she heads the Sciences department, but has the real-life military experience of a rookie. DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Sciences, Department Head (Weapons R&D Focus) RACE: Human AGE: 34 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Measuring up at a meager 5’3 and barely breaking a hundred and ten pounds, it’s not hard to see why Annalynn isn’t the military type. She’s often well dressed and in clean, well-kept condition - impressive, given that she spends much of her time on military ships. SHORT BIO: Annalynn was born into a military family with a long line of members serving in the Union Fleet. With a doctorate in mechanical physics, additional degrees in politics and psychology, and a lifetime of experience putting weapons together both large and small scale, Annalynn was approached by the Union Fleet to run weapons development programs on its ships. It was an easy choice for her, given the pressure from her family. However, by the time she served on her first ship, she was 32, having spent much of her life in school. As such, her practical experience is extremely limited, though it’s hard to argue with her intellect. PERSONALITY: If she wasn’t a scientist, Annalynn would probably have been a politician. She is extremely good at maintaining her composure in heated social situations, and is an intensely charismatic individual, sometimes to the point of overwhelming those around her. She’s an extrovert, of course, but she’s not obnoxious about it - Annalynn knows how to mind her manners. In addition, Annalynn stands by the age-old idiom, “knowledge is power.” She places intellect and facts before anything else, though the well-being of her friends and colleagues is a close second on her list of priorities. TALENTS: She can build you a gun, and a damn good one at that. It doesn’t matter how big or small it is, Annalynn can build it. Maintains her composure in heated situations better than most politicians An excellent people person Strong respect for the chain of command FLAWS: Physically a very weak person No combat or tactical experience Relentlessly holds to her opinion until proven wrong. At least she’ll be polite about it. Strong respect for the chain of command (hey, some people see it as a fault!)
49,357	1,332	55	784	1,231	Malory chuckled at her assuming he was hitting on her. "Sorry, but you're not my type. I prefer a woman who, you know, isn't a supersoldier. A nice girl, not made of machines. Oh, and not that tall." He continued pushing the cart with one arm, noticing that as he was walking everyone got very busy very fast after seeing Kal. Having that effect on people would be nice, maybe if they knew that he wasn't really security and actually had some of the more powerful guns in his room they'd dodge him too. Of course he didn't have Kal level powerful weapons, but he had some good ones. And as this annoying cart pushing quest carried on, some fool of a rock monster had to question what a candy bar was. And he called it disgusting! That was unacceptable. "So gross yeah, says the guy who I saw drink a bowl of fake slugs yesterday." he looked to the Warock, unlike Kal he wasn't able to just know what was around him without looking, and unlike Vas, he could look around. "And she's right, you should try one unless you're like a dog and this sort of thing kills you. Either way, try one." He let out a manly giggle, if that was possible. He was afraid to reach onto the cart and grab one because his superior could easily turn his wrist into dust. He spit on the ground next to him.	NAME: Christian Malory RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Black market trader (although the ship lists him as a security officer) RACE: Human AGE: 26 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Coming out of a planet on the edge of union territory, Christian never had the easiest time getting by. His whole life he was surrounded by the poorest and rudest of beings in the universe. He saw his fair share of shady deals go down and through this built a network of traders in the black market. Whenever he needed anything, or a close friend did he was the guy who could get it far faster than any official could, and generally at higher quality too. Problem was that he was pricier. He began to make a name for himself and built an interplanetary network that reached into the heart of the union, and he made his way hitchhiking around the union territory grabbing the illegal or rare items he needed before a captain decided his... connections would be useful for his ship and crew. Ever since then he's been masquerading as a security guard on the scouting ship, while handling all of their relations to an underground criminal market operations. PERSONALITY: Growing up in one of the shittiest (can we swear?) planets, not much scares him. He grew up with guns and knives pointed at him. He's slow to trust but loyal to anyone that he deems a friend. He has a strangely optimistic view of most people despite his upbringing. He doesn't take threats seriously, other than those of his crew mates. He's a bit trigger happy as well, not truly valuing the lives of anyone he doesn't trust. At least he knows who not to mouth off to. TALENTS:Diplomacy in general. He can fake being posh and noble, as well as getting along with street rats Decent aim Can find a place to stay in almost any city, quality not guaranteed to be good FLAWS: He is a bit too ready to take a life His mood can change very fast depending on the topic of conversation. His past isn't really up for public review. I fully understand if this character idea is also not too fitting for this RP. But I made it based off of the whole "However, because the ship really doesn’t need another reprimand on its record" part of the description. Again, I might just be too eager after finishing firefly just last week.
49,358	1,332	56	2,338	426	I'm not sure if you are just an asshole or too stupid to realize your doing that, Vas commented after Mallory spat on the ground for maybe the hundredth time. "And nice try with the burp, kid. I give you an A for effort." Vas reached his hand in the cart again and brought another candy bar to his gills. This one smelt even worse, maybe the harshest smelling of them all. The Warock rubbed his hands all over the wrapping of this mystery food, getting a blurry idea of what this abomination was called. "'Snickers'?," Vas questioned, "the fuck is a snicker? Sounds like a derogatory term or some shit. Next guy I get in a fight with, I'll call him one of these." Vas unwrapped the candy bar and smelt at it hesitantly. It smelt terrible. Every sense Vas had told him not to take a bite and keep his mouth as far away from the Snickers as he could. "Yeah, no. This is probably actual shit. No judging, but damn this does not smell healthy at all. Just, no."	NAME (Clan Name, Given Name): Rockland Vas RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Pilot, Navigator AGE: 234 years old, or 54 compared to human biology. GENDER: Male RACE: Warock - Warocks are sentient carbon-based life forms from the planet Chernohaz, a hazardous world constantly being ravaged by sandstorms. All Warocks are blind, evolving past the need for eyes and use gills located near the base of their necks to breath and use other senses to "see". All Warocks also have rough, rock-like exoskeletons that makes them tough beings. Politically, Warocks trade and are allied with most species. They are allied with The Union. SHORT BIO: Rockland Vas, (who just prefers Vas), is a former fighter pilot and special agent of the Warock Military. In his earlier years, Vas would pilot solo missions for his military or work on the ground for joint operations against the Saerans and rogue forces in his home system. After years of decorated service, Vas took an easy job aboard the USS Audacia as the ship's new navigator. Vas would never retire fully from service, but taking this gig felt like R&R compared to shit he's had to do in the past. PERSONALITY: Dry humored Uninterested Nonsocial Easily tempered Womanizer Talents: Hard worker Military Training Ace Fighter Pilot Trained Navigator Alien Exoskeleton Survival Training Flaws: Cannot "see" Harsh demeanor Stubbornness Anti-social Easily tempered Womanizer
49,359	1,332	57	1,032	421	Maggie narrowed her eyes at the datapad before her before setting it down on the table. She'd like to wait for Kal to show up, but dammit, the woman could read and if she was spending her time bashing in Mallory's head somewhere...well, that was probably more productive. IORUS II Desert planet. Little water. Few settlements on the ground are centered around large oases or aquifers. Main colony is Intrepid, at the north pole, with mining colonies scattered around—under the planets surface are vast cave networks, rich with valuable metals. Some evidence of a subterranean species has been found, but as there is no conclusive evidence, species is assumed to be extinct. ASSIGNMENT Visit the mining colony of Haven, near the equator, and meet with Foreman Bryce. Pick up the scheduled package of metals and deliver to Station Yankee III in the Yukon system. (Addendum: Try not to start any bar fights this time. Lieutenant Rama, miners are friends, not food. -Admiral Roth) "Should be a simple pickup," she said cheerfully. "Down to the mining colony, grab the goods, pass 'em over to some station a few star systems away, then piss off again. Captain ain't here, so it'll be a breeze as long as we stick to the story—Ray's off on some diplomatic shindig with Union officers, classified, blah blah blah. Questions?"	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,360	1,332	58	490	461	“The Captain left on a diplomatic mission, yet her senior diplomatic advisor remained behind?” Kiera said in reference to herself, shifting her position so that she was now standing upright with her striking purple eyes meeting those of the chief engineer. She shook her head and made a sound of disagreement while maintaining her friendly demeanour. As talented an engineer as Maggie was she was no liar and it showed in her attempt at explaining away the Captains disappearance. Kiera on the other hand was an old hand at this kind of thing, with several lifetimes of experience under her belt. Experience that she felt that she should offer now. “That will not do, such a story is too easy to disprove by anyone with a mind to do so. I understand your concern but you’re going about this all wrong. May I?” Kiera said as she took a seat opposite the chief engineer. She offered the chief engineer an award winning smile before she continued. “Lies are not going to help in this situation, not like you think they will. Trust me on this. May I make a recommendation, as you senior diplomatic advisor? Rather than lie, simply avoid the truth. For example I see nothing in this mission briefing that would require the Captains direct intervention. Is it so unreasonable to assume that she might have more pressing concerns aboard her ship? Isn't that why she has people under her command?”	NAME: Malcolm Conadon RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Space Cartographer and Explorer, Historian RACE: Human AGE: 27 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Malcom has always dreamed over exploring the stars. He grew up in the under-bellies of the city world Galion, so he never saw the night sky for what it truly was. Yet occasionally, on the clearest nights, when there was little air traffic, Malcom could see the faintest lights of faraway stars and he knew that he would one day explore them all. Malcom is a genius and his intelligence bought him a ticket off-world. He attended the Union Military Academy until he graduated at the age of eighteen, one of the top ten of his class. Yet unlike the rest of his classmates, he did not pursue a high-ranking position in the Union Armada. While he is a capable soldier and leader and he believes in the war effort, it is not something that he pursues. Rather, he wishes to explore the universe and all it has to offer, as he sees that as the true reason the Union was founded. There is much to learn out there in the expanse that is space and Malcolm intends to learn it all. Every star system, every planet, every species and their histories, he wants to know it all. PERSONALITY: Malcom is crazy. That is the best way to describe him. He is an eccentric, neurotic, off-his rockers type of person. He often talks in long, rushed sentences, rarely pausing for breath. This often occurs when someone mentions history, so do not mention anything historical in his presence, unless you want a light-year long lecture. Malcom is kind and likable, though. You can’t not like him. He always has a big, goofy smile on his face and he likes to make jokes, even if they aren’t always funny. He’s a lovable guy, despite all his quirks. TALENTS/FLAWS: Malcom is well versed in the history of the known universe. He could easily slip into an intellectual conversation about nearly any world. He also has nearly every star chart memorized, knowing the majority of the universe better than the back of his hand. Malcom also is somewhat skilled in combat and leadership due to his training at the Military Academy, though that is far from his strong suit. One of Malcom’s flaws is that he doesn’t know when to stop talking. He will often go on and on and on, much to the despair of his companions. He can also be quite intrusive and poke his nose into businesses he would probably be better off leaving alone. (I apologize for how similar Malcom is to the Doctor. It’s just how he came out to be as I was writing him. The picture is what is because…well because it works).
49,361	1,332	59	1,032	421	Maggie stared at Keira for a moment before shrugging. "Sure," she agreed. "You're the...talk-y one, anyway." She'd always found the...host...body...thing a little unnerving, but she was more than willing to let the social stuff slide. Within her own department, Mason could get a little feral, sure, but outside of it? She never wanted captaincy, and was more than willing to let someone else take the job. "Let's just, uh—avoid it, then. Be all aloof and shit. Sure, works for me," Maggie continued, shrugging again and folding her arms. She glanced around the room, raising her eyebrows. "I'm headin' down there, anyway. Need to check out their markets, see if there's any replacements for the server boards. Any other suggestions for the ground team?"	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,362	1,332	60	490	461	Annalynn nodded slowly as Maggie and Kiera discussed the most diplomatic solution to talking away the captain's disappearance. "Commander Mason," Annalynn kept it formal, as always, "the most challenging part will be convincing Station Yankee III that Captain Ray is too busy for them. It is likely that their current station head will at least want to briefly discuss the package we are delivering with the Captain. Diverting attention away from our lack of a Captain isn't too hard, but it will be more challenging than convincing the miners on Iorus II that Captain Ray cannot be bothered with them." Slightly adjusting her position in her seat, Annalynn continued, "In any case, I suggest that I or a qualified member of the Science department go ashore, as well. After all, someone has to verify that we aren't being ripped off. And despite my better judgment, I also nominate both Ensign Mallory and Lieutenant Rama. The ensign will need to restock his... wares... and someone will need to keep him in check. Our chief of security does an excellent job of that, I believe."	NAME: Malcolm Conadon RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Space Cartographer and Explorer, Historian RACE: Human AGE: 27 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Malcom has always dreamed over exploring the stars. He grew up in the under-bellies of the city world Galion, so he never saw the night sky for what it truly was. Yet occasionally, on the clearest nights, when there was little air traffic, Malcom could see the faintest lights of faraway stars and he knew that he would one day explore them all. Malcom is a genius and his intelligence bought him a ticket off-world. He attended the Union Military Academy until he graduated at the age of eighteen, one of the top ten of his class. Yet unlike the rest of his classmates, he did not pursue a high-ranking position in the Union Armada. While he is a capable soldier and leader and he believes in the war effort, it is not something that he pursues. Rather, he wishes to explore the universe and all it has to offer, as he sees that as the true reason the Union was founded. There is much to learn out there in the expanse that is space and Malcolm intends to learn it all. Every star system, every planet, every species and their histories, he wants to know it all. PERSONALITY: Malcom is crazy. That is the best way to describe him. He is an eccentric, neurotic, off-his rockers type of person. He often talks in long, rushed sentences, rarely pausing for breath. This often occurs when someone mentions history, so do not mention anything historical in his presence, unless you want a light-year long lecture. Malcom is kind and likable, though. You can’t not like him. He always has a big, goofy smile on his face and he likes to make jokes, even if they aren’t always funny. He’s a lovable guy, despite all his quirks. TALENTS/FLAWS: Malcom is well versed in the history of the known universe. He could easily slip into an intellectual conversation about nearly any world. He also has nearly every star chart memorized, knowing the majority of the universe better than the back of his hand. Malcom also is somewhat skilled in combat and leadership due to his training at the Military Academy, though that is far from his strong suit. One of Malcom’s flaws is that he doesn’t know when to stop talking. He will often go on and on and on, much to the despair of his companions. He can also be quite intrusive and poke his nose into businesses he would probably be better off leaving alone. (I apologize for how similar Malcom is to the Doctor. It’s just how he came out to be as I was writing him. The picture is what is because…well because it works).
49,363	1,332	61	2,541	1,618	It's not supposed to be fucking healthy, it's supposed to taste good and be full of sugar and other things that are really, really shitty for you, Kal responded sardonically. "Why do you think I'm packing so many of these fucking things? Eating healthy and shitting regularly isn't the best way to build the kind of calories I need to power my nanomachines in an emergency situation. Say, like, when we're getting fucking shot at. It pays to have a little baby fat, alright?" She snatched the candy bar away from Vas before he could waste it or do something else stupid with it and tossed it back on the cart. "Hop fucking to it, Mallory. Let's get this shit back to my room before the meeting starts. I mean, it's not like we'd want to miss that, right? Fuckin' assholes..." Kal mumbled curse words angrily to herself.	NAME: Dr. Annalynn O’Neil, commonly nicknamed Bolts RANK: Technically a Commander as she heads the Sciences department, but has the real-life military experience of a rookie. DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Sciences, Department Head (Weapons R&D Focus) RACE: Human AGE: 34 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Measuring up at a meager 5’3 and barely breaking a hundred and ten pounds, it’s not hard to see why Annalynn isn’t the military type. She’s often well dressed and in clean, well-kept condition - impressive, given that she spends much of her time on military ships. SHORT BIO: Annalynn was born into a military family with a long line of members serving in the Union Fleet. With a doctorate in mechanical physics, additional degrees in politics and psychology, and a lifetime of experience putting weapons together both large and small scale, Annalynn was approached by the Union Fleet to run weapons development programs on its ships. It was an easy choice for her, given the pressure from her family. However, by the time she served on her first ship, she was 32, having spent much of her life in school. As such, her practical experience is extremely limited, though it’s hard to argue with her intellect. PERSONALITY: If she wasn’t a scientist, Annalynn would probably have been a politician. She is extremely good at maintaining her composure in heated social situations, and is an intensely charismatic individual, sometimes to the point of overwhelming those around her. She’s an extrovert, of course, but she’s not obnoxious about it - Annalynn knows how to mind her manners. In addition, Annalynn stands by the age-old idiom, “knowledge is power.” She places intellect and facts before anything else, though the well-being of her friends and colleagues is a close second on her list of priorities. TALENTS: She can build you a gun, and a damn good one at that. It doesn’t matter how big or small it is, Annalynn can build it. Maintains her composure in heated situations better than most politicians An excellent people person Strong respect for the chain of command FLAWS: Physically a very weak person No combat or tactical experience Relentlessly holds to her opinion until proven wrong. At least she’ll be polite about it. Strong respect for the chain of command (hey, some people see it as a fault!)
49,364	1,332	62	784	1,231	Christian heard the order to speed up in fear of missing a meeting. The amount of sarcasm building up in his body was almost measurable by medical instruments. "Oh no, missing the meeting I'm not even invited to. End of he god damn world scenario." He layed into the cart with his one arm still resting without pushing it. He ignored the Warock because of this, the wound was still fresh and he didn't want anything to do with it, seeing as hurting it's feelings wasn't happening. The cart sped up a little but not too much, and the eta probably didn't change. He had no idea why he was even pushing this cart, Kal knew he wasn't really a security officer right? She wasn't actually his boss, that was well... Captain Ray. Hh thought to himself abuout how at least Kal was better than some of the other choices on the ship. Could always be worse. "Where even are we, I can't see past all theses god damn candy bars. Are they even real? I haven't had a non replicated candy bar in forever" He lied. He had a few back in his room, along with real fresh fruit. He had hid some on other parts of the ship but only the captain and a few others knew of their locations. They were kept in vacuum sealed bags so nobody could sniff them out. Those little bits of food were too precious to just give away.	NAME: Christian Malory RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Black market trader (although the ship lists him as a security officer) RACE: Human AGE: 26 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Coming out of a planet on the edge of union territory, Christian never had the easiest time getting by. His whole life he was surrounded by the poorest and rudest of beings in the universe. He saw his fair share of shady deals go down and through this built a network of traders in the black market. Whenever he needed anything, or a close friend did he was the guy who could get it far faster than any official could, and generally at higher quality too. Problem was that he was pricier. He began to make a name for himself and built an interplanetary network that reached into the heart of the union, and he made his way hitchhiking around the union territory grabbing the illegal or rare items he needed before a captain decided his... connections would be useful for his ship and crew. Ever since then he's been masquerading as a security guard on the scouting ship, while handling all of their relations to an underground criminal market operations. PERSONALITY: Growing up in one of the shittiest (can we swear?) planets, not much scares him. He grew up with guns and knives pointed at him. He's slow to trust but loyal to anyone that he deems a friend. He has a strangely optimistic view of most people despite his upbringing. He doesn't take threats seriously, other than those of his crew mates. He's a bit trigger happy as well, not truly valuing the lives of anyone he doesn't trust. At least he knows who not to mouth off to. TALENTS:Diplomacy in general. He can fake being posh and noble, as well as getting along with street rats Decent aim Can find a place to stay in almost any city, quality not guaranteed to be good FLAWS: He is a bit too ready to take a life His mood can change very fast depending on the topic of conversation. His past isn't really up for public review. I fully understand if this character idea is also not too fitting for this RP. But I made it based off of the whole "However, because the ship really doesn’t need another reprimand on its record" part of the description. Again, I might just be too eager after finishing firefly just last week.
49,365	1,332	63	2,338	426	Fucking humans and their shit-food, Vas muttered as Kal and Malory made their way to the security chief's quarters. "Different strokes I guess." The Warock simply shrugged and made his way back into the bridge, finding little resistance making it back. Everyone who was no one was still there, seemingly paralyzed into medial nothingness without their captain. Vas had little time to know the human woman named Ray, but she definitely left an mark. She was maybe the only human he could think of that garnered his respect. With no captain and no real plan other then sit idle in space, Vas reattempted to access his terminal and get back online. Luck had it that Internet access was restored, allowing the Warock to boredly browse news sites and try and look busy.	NAME (Clan Name, Given Name): Rockland Vas RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Pilot, Navigator AGE: 234 years old, or 54 compared to human biology. GENDER: Male RACE: Warock - Warocks are sentient carbon-based life forms from the planet Chernohaz, a hazardous world constantly being ravaged by sandstorms. All Warocks are blind, evolving past the need for eyes and use gills located near the base of their necks to breath and use other senses to "see". All Warocks also have rough, rock-like exoskeletons that makes them tough beings. Politically, Warocks trade and are allied with most species. They are allied with The Union. SHORT BIO: Rockland Vas, (who just prefers Vas), is a former fighter pilot and special agent of the Warock Military. In his earlier years, Vas would pilot solo missions for his military or work on the ground for joint operations against the Saerans and rogue forces in his home system. After years of decorated service, Vas took an easy job aboard the USS Audacia as the ship's new navigator. Vas would never retire fully from service, but taking this gig felt like R&R compared to shit he's had to do in the past. PERSONALITY: Dry humored Uninterested Nonsocial Easily tempered Womanizer Talents: Hard worker Military Training Ace Fighter Pilot Trained Navigator Alien Exoskeleton Survival Training Flaws: Cannot "see" Harsh demeanor Stubbornness Anti-social Easily tempered Womanizer
49,366	1,332	64	580	1,924	Checkmate! Amy declares, a big grin on her face. "I win. Two to one." She says, smiling. With a stretch, she rose from the table, moving to the server-room door. "We should get back to work. Start monitoring the server, I'm going to see how it's doing internally before figuring out if I should change the network usage restriction." Crewman Jimmy nodded, then began to follow Amy's orders before catching a glance of her tail as she moved into the server room. Once in the server room, Amy began looking at the server's components. The damn thing looked poorely, but she was going to have to change the level lest she have a riot at her door. Having the captain missing did not help anything. She would've known how to keep control. After a few minutes of examining the servers, Amy moves back to the Neural Networks room, sitting down. "How's it look from your end?" Amy asks her assistant. "Dagoo," he replies, which makes her eyebrows raise. "Have you been learning Zenospeak?" She asks. "Well, I'm trying to work out what you say when you curse." He replies With that, they got to work, trying to turn on safety on the servers and make sure everything was okay. Finally, servers managed to struggle online, however they were suffering a lot of load. Amy sent out a global message letting everyone on the ship know that the servers were now back to being unrestricted. Almost instantly the server load jumped to 80%, and she held her breath. Luckily, it stayed there, however it was touching the danger level.	NAME: Yam Yaskradawne (Amy Skydawner) RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Neural Networks operator - A neural networks operator controls administrative things, and sorts out things. If someone sends a report of a pipe needing repaired, the operator would organised a repair team to be sent. They also control things such as the ship's internet, viewing security cameras and monitoring what the crew does and making sure that they don't do anything breaking laws or restrictions. They have access to all of the machines, so they can check status, and help with things such as robotic refueling of fighter craft, etc. The Neural networks operator carries around an Admin Deck to interface with the ship if they are away from their terminal. RACE: Zenohunt (allied with Union, however with seperate fleets and militaries) - Zenohunts are human, however they have a mixed variety of what appears to be almost Earth animal features. Some may have the tail of a dog, others may have the ears of a cat. Only a tiny percentage have wings, and an even smaller percentage of them can actually fly. For this, Zenohunts are often reffered to as the 'alternate universe of Humans', of DNA that could mix with that of animals. In truth, nobody knows how Zenohunts came to be alike the Earth species. Some tribes of Zenohunts think Zariana chose for them to be that way. Zariana is the god of all Zenohunts. She watches over them, and blesses them, ensuring they are well. Zenohunts never left their home system when they gained space technology. There were only three planets in their star system, Lemea, Popel and Candor, along with many, many asteroids, both individual and in varying sizes of belts, though the only major cities would be found on Lemea. Those two cities are the only two cities that are left untouched in the endless Zenohunt war. Ehop and Yasanctuar (Hope and Sanctuary, in English) will forever remain the two only cities in Zenohunt territory. Asteroids and planets are not the only thing that you would find in the Zenohunt star system. Upon arrival, one would gasp at the sheer amount of ship debris in the system. Countless bases hidden in the asteroids showed that the Zenohunts were unmovable from their system. If a mysterious ship were to show up, it would die by either a Zenohunt battle group or by a hidden weapons platform, dug deep into an asteroid. The only reason that Humans survived when they arrived was because they came upon one of the more civilized of Zenohunt groups. Peace was agreed toward the Humans, however Zenohunts still battled eachother frequently because of disputes and other matters. Zenohunts speak 'Zenospeak', however they began learning English as well once Humans came along. One of the main facts of Zenohunts is that they are taught what they want to be when they are older from a very young age. If a child says, "Mommy, I wanna be a police man when I'm older", guess what? He's probably going to end up in a security role. If some little girl watches to much news and TV and says "Daddy, I want to work with MTA cannons!" They'll be working either as a gunner or tactical weapons officer on a ship. Something frowned upon by other races is that yes, Zenohunts train their young to be what they first said without a change of mind, however Zenohunt young will literally be what they want at a young age, or be something similar. For example, a Zenohunt learning to be a gunner will probably have the chance to be a Coota (one of various Zenohunt vehicles. Specifically, a Coota is a small vehicle that is literally a car with a machine gun on it. Young gunners use those as they require very little experience to use.) gunner at the age of fourteen. Obviously, higher roles, such as manning a tank, will require an older age and/or a lot more training. AGE: 19 GENDER: Female This image, however, she has the ears of a grey wolf, and the tail of a grey wolf. SHORT BIO: Amy was born in Yasanctuar, so she was safe from a lot of the fighting that happened occasionally on Lemea. However, this sanctuary didn't go on for long. "I want to be a computer lady on a ship flying through space!" That sentence sentenced her to training in the navy. At fifteen years old, with a final exam passing of 90%, she was flown to space and stationed on a frigate in the Yasanctuar navy. From that point on, she went ship hopping, one time because of a promotion to Ensign, another time because of an attack that ended up with her ship being damaged to the point where personnel were forced to use their escape cells, but mainly just because of re-assignment, even to Union ships. That eventually ended up with her being stationed on the USS Audacia. PERSONALITY: +Friendly +Supportive =+Tries to socialize =Slightly shy =-Easy to frighten =-Slightly upsetable -Gets angry to those who speak badly of Zenohunt religion toward Zariana TALENTS/FLAWS: +Able to manage her role well +Formal during work-time +Trained in hand-to-hand and short-range weapon combat =-Has mood shifts every-so-often -Tends to attack if threatened
49,367	1,332	65	2,541	1,618	Meeting Room Finally the candy bars were delivered to Kal's personal quarters, a rather spartan room filled with exercise equipment and empty boxes full of candy bar wrappers, and Ensign Mallory was dismissed to continue his work or attend the meeting with his superior at his leisure. The doors to the meeting room slid open, or they would have had the Audacia not been the old bird it was. Instead, they got stuck halfway through opening. Kal forced the pneumatic steel doors open the rest of the way and stepped into the meeting room. "Okay, let's get this shit over with," she said, sitting back in her chair and resting her feet on the table. "Who fucked up and how, and were they any of mine? Was it Christian again? Or are we just going to shoot the shit about the captain for the millionth time and hope Aladdin'll to rub his magic dick and make everything better if we just keep talking about it without doing anything?" Kal had advocated a full search and rescue mission (with Union requisitions) for the captain numerous times, in true "Never leave a marine behind" fashion. However, she'd been denied each time.	NAME: Dr. Annalynn O’Neil, commonly nicknamed Bolts RANK: Technically a Commander as she heads the Sciences department, but has the real-life military experience of a rookie. DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Sciences, Department Head (Weapons R&D Focus) RACE: Human AGE: 34 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Measuring up at a meager 5’3 and barely breaking a hundred and ten pounds, it’s not hard to see why Annalynn isn’t the military type. She’s often well dressed and in clean, well-kept condition - impressive, given that she spends much of her time on military ships. SHORT BIO: Annalynn was born into a military family with a long line of members serving in the Union Fleet. With a doctorate in mechanical physics, additional degrees in politics and psychology, and a lifetime of experience putting weapons together both large and small scale, Annalynn was approached by the Union Fleet to run weapons development programs on its ships. It was an easy choice for her, given the pressure from her family. However, by the time she served on her first ship, she was 32, having spent much of her life in school. As such, her practical experience is extremely limited, though it’s hard to argue with her intellect. PERSONALITY: If she wasn’t a scientist, Annalynn would probably have been a politician. She is extremely good at maintaining her composure in heated social situations, and is an intensely charismatic individual, sometimes to the point of overwhelming those around her. She’s an extrovert, of course, but she’s not obnoxious about it - Annalynn knows how to mind her manners. In addition, Annalynn stands by the age-old idiom, “knowledge is power.” She places intellect and facts before anything else, though the well-being of her friends and colleagues is a close second on her list of priorities. TALENTS: She can build you a gun, and a damn good one at that. It doesn’t matter how big or small it is, Annalynn can build it. Maintains her composure in heated situations better than most politicians An excellent people person Strong respect for the chain of command FLAWS: Physically a very weak person No combat or tactical experience Relentlessly holds to her opinion until proven wrong. At least she’ll be polite about it. Strong respect for the chain of command (hey, some people see it as a fault!)
49,368	1,332	66	1,032	421	Nice of you to show up, Kal, Maggie said dryly, folding her arms across her chest. On her end, she didn't think a standard search-and-rescue for the Captain would do much good at this stage—there were a handful of planets they'd visited around the time of her disappearance, and even more space stations and other ships; she could be anywhere. They needed to do this smart. "Pickup and drop off, Rama, we do actually have a job this time," she continued. "You wanna tag along, or stay here and wear out my replicator again?"	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,369	1,332	67	784	1,231	Malory proudly attempted to clap, causing some pain in his shoulder strong enough to encourage him to not clap. He was done with this bullshit job and could go back to slacking off and probably selling drugs that were hopefully delivered without a problem. Kal invited him into a meeting, to which he promptly declined. "Listen I uh, no. Meetings are not my think babe." He patted her lower back, luckily aiming higher than her butt and avoiding a terrible fate, regardless of how she took the unintended advance. A crushed pelvis was just as bad as a crushed skull. "Ahhh, finally, I can get back to not doing security things." he sighed, as the doors were forced open behind him by his boss. Christian pulled out a holopad and started looking at a list of weaponry. Some of it was listed as illegal, some of it labeled doomsday. Only a few of them had check marks next to them, marking them as in stock. None of the doomsday devices had received a check, but an rifle designed to destroy the strong nucear bonds of molecules was there. His pride and joy, the most dangerous thing he had ever owned. A rifle that could reduce anything into a cloud of molecules unable to bond together. If only he had a reason to use it. His holopad continued scrolling, showing wanted posters, silhouettes with contact information under them and finally planets with a list of rare or dangerous materials there. "Ooh, a grenade that kills all life that it touches, including grass? Where are those... Hmmm, where is Lemea?" He asked aloud to himself. He continued on past the server room, headed toward his bunk.	NAME: Christian Malory RANK: Ensign DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Support, Black market trader (although the ship lists him as a security officer) RACE: Human AGE: 26 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Coming out of a planet on the edge of union territory, Christian never had the easiest time getting by. His whole life he was surrounded by the poorest and rudest of beings in the universe. He saw his fair share of shady deals go down and through this built a network of traders in the black market. Whenever he needed anything, or a close friend did he was the guy who could get it far faster than any official could, and generally at higher quality too. Problem was that he was pricier. He began to make a name for himself and built an interplanetary network that reached into the heart of the union, and he made his way hitchhiking around the union territory grabbing the illegal or rare items he needed before a captain decided his... connections would be useful for his ship and crew. Ever since then he's been masquerading as a security guard on the scouting ship, while handling all of their relations to an underground criminal market operations. PERSONALITY: Growing up in one of the shittiest (can we swear?) planets, not much scares him. He grew up with guns and knives pointed at him. He's slow to trust but loyal to anyone that he deems a friend. He has a strangely optimistic view of most people despite his upbringing. He doesn't take threats seriously, other than those of his crew mates. He's a bit trigger happy as well, not truly valuing the lives of anyone he doesn't trust. At least he knows who not to mouth off to. TALENTS:Diplomacy in general. He can fake being posh and noble, as well as getting along with street rats Decent aim Can find a place to stay in almost any city, quality not guaranteed to be good FLAWS: He is a bit too ready to take a life His mood can change very fast depending on the topic of conversation. His past isn't really up for public review. I fully understand if this character idea is also not too fitting for this RP. But I made it based off of the whole "However, because the ship really doesn’t need another reprimand on its record" part of the description. Again, I might just be too eager after finishing firefly just last week.
49,370	1,332	68	490	461	Kal, this is a topic we have discussed repeatedly over the last couple of days, Annalynn said softly. It was difficult to convince the gung ho Security chief into acceptingaccepting 'no' as an answer, but few people stood up to Kal's attitude. She continued, "We were just going over our mission to Iorus II. I was suggesting that you and Ensign Mallory tag along with myself and Commander Mason in the ground team, as well as discussing diplomatic solutions to evading the topic of our Captain's disappearance, which I may remind you," Annalynn raised an eyebrow for emphasis, "you are not to discuss with anyone. That means no more Search and Rescue requests. The Science department is currently looking into Captain Ray's disappearance and it will be handled in due time, but the Audacia cannot afford yet another reprimand, so please, co-operate on this with us?" Annalynn smiled warmly at Kal, hoping it would ease the subtle blow of her words. "That should bring you up to speed. So, are you coming ashore with us or no?"	NAME: Malcolm Conadon RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Space Cartographer and Explorer, Historian RACE: Human AGE: 27 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Malcom has always dreamed over exploring the stars. He grew up in the under-bellies of the city world Galion, so he never saw the night sky for what it truly was. Yet occasionally, on the clearest nights, when there was little air traffic, Malcom could see the faintest lights of faraway stars and he knew that he would one day explore them all. Malcom is a genius and his intelligence bought him a ticket off-world. He attended the Union Military Academy until he graduated at the age of eighteen, one of the top ten of his class. Yet unlike the rest of his classmates, he did not pursue a high-ranking position in the Union Armada. While he is a capable soldier and leader and he believes in the war effort, it is not something that he pursues. Rather, he wishes to explore the universe and all it has to offer, as he sees that as the true reason the Union was founded. There is much to learn out there in the expanse that is space and Malcolm intends to learn it all. Every star system, every planet, every species and their histories, he wants to know it all. PERSONALITY: Malcom is crazy. That is the best way to describe him. He is an eccentric, neurotic, off-his rockers type of person. He often talks in long, rushed sentences, rarely pausing for breath. This often occurs when someone mentions history, so do not mention anything historical in his presence, unless you want a light-year long lecture. Malcom is kind and likable, though. You can’t not like him. He always has a big, goofy smile on his face and he likes to make jokes, even if they aren’t always funny. He’s a lovable guy, despite all his quirks. TALENTS/FLAWS: Malcom is well versed in the history of the known universe. He could easily slip into an intellectual conversation about nearly any world. He also has nearly every star chart memorized, knowing the majority of the universe better than the back of his hand. Malcom also is somewhat skilled in combat and leadership due to his training at the Military Academy, though that is far from his strong suit. One of Malcom’s flaws is that he doesn’t know when to stop talking. He will often go on and on and on, much to the despair of his companions. He can also be quite intrusive and poke his nose into businesses he would probably be better off leaving alone. (I apologize for how similar Malcom is to the Doctor. It’s just how he came out to be as I was writing him. The picture is what is because…well because it works).
49,371	1,332	69	991	1,987	Roy stayed quiet, the others speaking as the doctor thought about the mission. If it was as simple as they were making it out to be then he wouldn't even be needed on it. Of course it was never that simple. The absence of a captain threw a wrench in there and really raised the possibility that something might complicate the mission. Of course he didn't know for certain and was just spouting paranoid thoughts, but it was his job as a doctor to worry for the potential safety of those under his care. "I think I'll stay on the ship, ma'am, doesn't seem like you'll need a doctor for a pickup mission." He said, glancing at Maggie. Roy almost mentioned something about that they should have some high ranking personal stay on the ship, to keep everyone from eating each other alive and have at least some semblance of order. "Besides, I think Dr. O'Neil and Kiera are more than enough brains for the mission." He added with a smile.	NAME: Dr. Roy Cason RANK: Lieutenant commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Medical, chief medical officer (Head doctor, physician and surgeon) RACE: Human AGE: 38 GENDER: Male APPEARANCE: A skinnier man of average height, 5'9, Roy dresses like a doctor would, slacks, a button up shirt with a tie, a white coat and boots fit for a ship. He is in fine shape with a sharp diet but is no physical specimen. SHORT BIO: Born deep in Union space, Roy Cason has always dreamed of exploring the stars ever since he was a little colony kid. He was an outstanding student who early on knew he wanted to become something in the medical field. After years of hard work he acquired all of the proper degrees he decided to enlist in the Union Fleet which he did. After that he was all over the place, stationed and colonies and other times ships. It didn't really matter to him though he enjoyed ships much more which may have lead to him ending up on the USS Audacia as the chief medical officer. He was eager about the opportunity, happy to once again be on a ship with a crew of all kinds of people. PERSONALITY: Roy is a peculiar man, normally very quiet and to himself unless dealing with a patient, in which his demeanor seems to change. His words are honest and straightforward, he does not sugarcoat anything and takes his job extremely seriously. He's a man of strong moral convictions which hold the preciousness of life, human or other above all else. In other words he is a humanist that cares about organic life. He's fascinated by life and all of its questions as well as space and the 'little miracles'. TALENTS: - An extremely skilled doctor, physician and surgeon with years of experience to back up a high level of knowledge in the medical field. He has admitted to being most skilled in dealing with human based medicine, but has knowledge of many different species. He possesses a keen understanding of biology, which includes humans and a multitude of other known species. - Works great under pressure and in high intensity situations. Surgery while the ship is under fire? No problem. Reattaching an arm while the owner is bleeding out? Not an issue. He doesn't panic. FLAWS: - He's a pacifist. He strongly believes that a nonviolent solution is often the most effective, and dislikes war and conflict in general. He will only resort to it as a means of defense either to himself or someone else, never as an aggressor. He's fine with serving on a ship full of military personal, just he himself doesn't want anything to do with the combat. - Not particularly skilled in combat, while he knows how to aim and fire a gun, he's not anything special with one. Also while he keeps his body in shape, he isn't a fighter. - Hates being ordered around. While he will listen to a commanding office, he hates being ordered around like a grunt. He's a doctor, dammit. - Dr. Roy can be very blunt and forward, sometimes to an extreme point. He'll give his exact, honest opinions when asked to. Comes with being a doctor and having to tell people harsh truths.
49,372	1,332	70	2,541	1,618	Kal grunted. "Bah. Buncha fuckin' pussies..." Military demerit or the threat of discharge held little importance to the super soldier. While she hadn't quite pieced together what she'd do without the Audacia and her crew, she'd already been given the boot once. She was sure she'd be able to figure something out. Maybe. Probably... ... okay, she honestly had no idea where she'd go if she lost this job. She sighed heavily. Reaching into her pocket, Kal angrily ripped into another candy bar, chewing loudly before swallowing. "So what's the job then? What are we humping and what are we dumping?"	NAME: Dr. Annalynn O’Neil, commonly nicknamed Bolts RANK: Technically a Commander as she heads the Sciences department, but has the real-life military experience of a rookie. DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Sciences, Department Head (Weapons R&D Focus) RACE: Human AGE: 34 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Measuring up at a meager 5’3 and barely breaking a hundred and ten pounds, it’s not hard to see why Annalynn isn’t the military type. She’s often well dressed and in clean, well-kept condition - impressive, given that she spends much of her time on military ships. SHORT BIO: Annalynn was born into a military family with a long line of members serving in the Union Fleet. With a doctorate in mechanical physics, additional degrees in politics and psychology, and a lifetime of experience putting weapons together both large and small scale, Annalynn was approached by the Union Fleet to run weapons development programs on its ships. It was an easy choice for her, given the pressure from her family. However, by the time she served on her first ship, she was 32, having spent much of her life in school. As such, her practical experience is extremely limited, though it’s hard to argue with her intellect. PERSONALITY: If she wasn’t a scientist, Annalynn would probably have been a politician. She is extremely good at maintaining her composure in heated social situations, and is an intensely charismatic individual, sometimes to the point of overwhelming those around her. She’s an extrovert, of course, but she’s not obnoxious about it - Annalynn knows how to mind her manners. In addition, Annalynn stands by the age-old idiom, “knowledge is power.” She places intellect and facts before anything else, though the well-being of her friends and colleagues is a close second on her list of priorities. TALENTS: She can build you a gun, and a damn good one at that. It doesn’t matter how big or small it is, Annalynn can build it. Maintains her composure in heated situations better than most politicians An excellent people person Strong respect for the chain of command FLAWS: Physically a very weak person No combat or tactical experience Relentlessly holds to her opinion until proven wrong. At least she’ll be polite about it. Strong respect for the chain of command (hey, some people see it as a fault!)
49,373	1,332	71	1,032	421	Maggie helpfully tossed a datapad at Kal's face, trusting the supersoldier's reflexes to avoid a broken nose. "Read and weep," she said dryly. "Real boring stuff, just a pickup here, but the first person to say The Words Which Shall Not Be Spoken is getting a kick in the nuts." The phrase 'what's the worst that could happen?' had only been said once on the Audacia. Almost immediately after, several irreparable cascade failures had occurred and at least once crewman had died. The crew had a healthy suspicion of any phrases even vaguely similar ever since The Incident. She glanced around the table, counting off on her fingers. "Alright, so—Bolts is coming, Kal, that's you if you're in, do we even want Mallory to come, and me. Is that enough?" It was a genuine question—it wasn't like she'd had any experience putting together ground teams before. She was also a little desperate for someone else to take charge—she did NOT want the Captain's chair.	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,374	1,332	72	2,541	1,618	Oh he'll come, Kal said. "He'll come whether he wants to or not and goddammit I just realized how bad that sounded." She noticed it though. How nervous Maggie seemed about taking command. Quickly changing the topic, Kal said, "Anyway, since cap's fucking AWOL, I will officially take on the responsibility of making tactical decisions for the crew until everyone gets their shit together. I may be on permanent shore leave, but I figure I still got more combat experience than the rest of you fucking shit-for-brains put together. So!" Kal clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. "Here's the plan. I want a five-man group. Two soldiers, two diplomats, and one that's both. That means we bring Bitchy. We're gonna wanna unleash the beast on this one in case shit goes pear-shaped. Mags, you're with me and Mallory. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid when I'm not looking. Bolts can come with us too if she needs to. If she doesn't, find someone more expendable, preferably someone wearing a red shirt."	NAME: Dr. Annalynn O’Neil, commonly nicknamed Bolts RANK: Technically a Commander as she heads the Sciences department, but has the real-life military experience of a rookie. DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Sciences, Department Head (Weapons R&D Focus) RACE: Human AGE: 34 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Measuring up at a meager 5’3 and barely breaking a hundred and ten pounds, it’s not hard to see why Annalynn isn’t the military type. She’s often well dressed and in clean, well-kept condition - impressive, given that she spends much of her time on military ships. SHORT BIO: Annalynn was born into a military family with a long line of members serving in the Union Fleet. With a doctorate in mechanical physics, additional degrees in politics and psychology, and a lifetime of experience putting weapons together both large and small scale, Annalynn was approached by the Union Fleet to run weapons development programs on its ships. It was an easy choice for her, given the pressure from her family. However, by the time she served on her first ship, she was 32, having spent much of her life in school. As such, her practical experience is extremely limited, though it’s hard to argue with her intellect. PERSONALITY: If she wasn’t a scientist, Annalynn would probably have been a politician. She is extremely good at maintaining her composure in heated social situations, and is an intensely charismatic individual, sometimes to the point of overwhelming those around her. She’s an extrovert, of course, but she’s not obnoxious about it - Annalynn knows how to mind her manners. In addition, Annalynn stands by the age-old idiom, “knowledge is power.” She places intellect and facts before anything else, though the well-being of her friends and colleagues is a close second on her list of priorities. TALENTS: She can build you a gun, and a damn good one at that. It doesn’t matter how big or small it is, Annalynn can build it. Maintains her composure in heated situations better than most politicians An excellent people person Strong respect for the chain of command FLAWS: Physically a very weak person No combat or tactical experience Relentlessly holds to her opinion until proven wrong. At least she’ll be polite about it. Strong respect for the chain of command (hey, some people see it as a fault!)
49,375	1,332	73	2,541	1,618	Annalynn sighed. "Ms. Rama, three things. First of all, your combat experience is appreciated, but irrelevant to the nature of the mission and nullified by the nature of your discharge from the Marine Corps. Second, you are in no position to take on the responsibility of the ship's tactical decisions, being that you do not outrank any current serving crew member, so again, while your tactical expertise is appreciated, we must still make decisions as a crew. That means co-operation, Kal, not a dictatorship." Annalynn began to sound like a kind, lecturing mother, but it wasn't anything Kal wouldn't be used to. Annalynn had had to look after far too many of the crew as her own children the past couple days. She continued, "And finally, thank you for so eloquently rephrasing the plan that has already been discussed and developed. Your input is appreciated." Annalynn smiled, quietly hoping that the passive-aggression would be felt in the room and Kal would back down slightly. On second thought, Annalynn realized her passive-aggression was just as likely to backfire on her as much as it was to work. Shit.	NAME: Dr. Annalynn O’Neil, commonly nicknamed Bolts RANK: Technically a Commander as she heads the Sciences department, but has the real-life military experience of a rookie. DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Sciences, Department Head (Weapons R&D Focus) RACE: Human AGE: 34 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Measuring up at a meager 5’3 and barely breaking a hundred and ten pounds, it’s not hard to see why Annalynn isn’t the military type. She’s often well dressed and in clean, well-kept condition - impressive, given that she spends much of her time on military ships. SHORT BIO: Annalynn was born into a military family with a long line of members serving in the Union Fleet. With a doctorate in mechanical physics, additional degrees in politics and psychology, and a lifetime of experience putting weapons together both large and small scale, Annalynn was approached by the Union Fleet to run weapons development programs on its ships. It was an easy choice for her, given the pressure from her family. However, by the time she served on her first ship, she was 32, having spent much of her life in school. As such, her practical experience is extremely limited, though it’s hard to argue with her intellect. PERSONALITY: If she wasn’t a scientist, Annalynn would probably have been a politician. She is extremely good at maintaining her composure in heated social situations, and is an intensely charismatic individual, sometimes to the point of overwhelming those around her. She’s an extrovert, of course, but she’s not obnoxious about it - Annalynn knows how to mind her manners. In addition, Annalynn stands by the age-old idiom, “knowledge is power.” She places intellect and facts before anything else, though the well-being of her friends and colleagues is a close second on her list of priorities. TALENTS: She can build you a gun, and a damn good one at that. It doesn’t matter how big or small it is, Annalynn can build it. Maintains her composure in heated situations better than most politicians An excellent people person Strong respect for the chain of command FLAWS: Physically a very weak person No combat or tactical experience Relentlessly holds to her opinion until proven wrong. At least she’ll be polite about it. Strong respect for the chain of command (hey, some people see it as a fault!)
49,376	1,332	74	490	461	'Bolts can come with us if she needs to,' Annalynn quoted as Kal left the room, outwardly unphased by the display of force. Inwardly, however, her heart was racing, but Annalynn knew better than to let that show. "Would somebody please remind our head of security that she, too, is listed as essential personnel? If she insists that essential personnel should not go on this mission, then almost our entire ground team should be replaced bar one ranking officer. The lieutenant's pride may get in the way of her critical thinking skills sometimes, and despite what she may or may not believe about my mental capability, I actually do know what I'm talking about." Annalynn got up from her seat, holding her forehead. "I have a headache. I'll be in my office 'talking shit about shit I know shit about,' as our security chief so gracefully put it. Please contact me if it's urgent." With that, Annalynn withdrew from the meeting room and began to head back towards the science labs.	NAME: Malcolm Conadon RANK: Lieutenant DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Space Cartographer and Explorer, Historian RACE: Human AGE: 27 GENDER: Male SHORT BIO: Malcom has always dreamed over exploring the stars. He grew up in the under-bellies of the city world Galion, so he never saw the night sky for what it truly was. Yet occasionally, on the clearest nights, when there was little air traffic, Malcom could see the faintest lights of faraway stars and he knew that he would one day explore them all. Malcom is a genius and his intelligence bought him a ticket off-world. He attended the Union Military Academy until he graduated at the age of eighteen, one of the top ten of his class. Yet unlike the rest of his classmates, he did not pursue a high-ranking position in the Union Armada. While he is a capable soldier and leader and he believes in the war effort, it is not something that he pursues. Rather, he wishes to explore the universe and all it has to offer, as he sees that as the true reason the Union was founded. There is much to learn out there in the expanse that is space and Malcolm intends to learn it all. Every star system, every planet, every species and their histories, he wants to know it all. PERSONALITY: Malcom is crazy. That is the best way to describe him. He is an eccentric, neurotic, off-his rockers type of person. He often talks in long, rushed sentences, rarely pausing for breath. This often occurs when someone mentions history, so do not mention anything historical in his presence, unless you want a light-year long lecture. Malcom is kind and likable, though. You can’t not like him. He always has a big, goofy smile on his face and he likes to make jokes, even if they aren’t always funny. He’s a lovable guy, despite all his quirks. TALENTS/FLAWS: Malcom is well versed in the history of the known universe. He could easily slip into an intellectual conversation about nearly any world. He also has nearly every star chart memorized, knowing the majority of the universe better than the back of his hand. Malcom also is somewhat skilled in combat and leadership due to his training at the Military Academy, though that is far from his strong suit. One of Malcom’s flaws is that he doesn’t know when to stop talking. He will often go on and on and on, much to the despair of his companions. He can also be quite intrusive and poke his nose into businesses he would probably be better off leaving alone. (I apologize for how similar Malcom is to the Doctor. It’s just how he came out to be as I was writing him. The picture is what is because…well because it works).
49,377	1,332	75	1,032	421	Maggie's forehead hit the desk as Kal stormed out of the room. She folded her arms around her head, muttering a stream of impressive invectives in multiple languages as she tried to mentally sort out the shitstorm that was the upper crew. Engineering genius she might be, people person she was not. Ask her to jump the ship from one system to another with less than half a klick of leeway, sure, she could do it. But get people to shut up and work together for thirty seconds? Nope, no can do. "Please don't tear each other's heads off before we're even planetside," Maggie mumbled, voice muffled by the table. She sat up, pinching the bridge of her nose to stave off the coming headache. "Fucks' sake, how the hell does the Captain do this?" she muttered to herself, standing and collecting her datapad. "I"ll just—fuck, someone else take over, I'm gonna go calibrate the shuttle." No need to use the transporter when the shuttle was in perfect working condition.	putting my character here for the sake of posterity! NAME: Margaret "Maggie" Mason RANK: Commander DEPARTMENT, POSITION: Engineering, Chief Engineer RACE: Human AGE: 29 GENDER: Female APPEARANCE: Maggie Mason would’ve been great for Security, standing at about 5’10” and pretty damn muscular, but she picked the climbing-on-machines-all-day route. She has short, choppy, sandy hair, tanned skin, and green eyes. She's usually in uniform when she surfaces from Engineering's domain, but when she's down there, she's a regular grease monkey, jumpsuit sleeves knotted around her waist over her undershirt and banging on something with a wrench. There's a slightly crazy look to her eye and a pair of thick, angry eyebrows that most of the crew avoids at all costs. SHORT BIO: Mason ended up in the Union Fleet because there really was nowhere else to go. She wasn't enough of a stickler for the rules to go into academics, she hated the private sector no matter how good the money was, and there was no way in hell she was getting stuck on this planet with the groundside military. Mostly, though? She'd watched countless members of her huge extended family die in space due to engineering failures in the heat of battle, and she knew she could do better. So she did. She only half regrets it. PERSONALITY: Maggie is somewhat of a mad scientist—full of crazy ideas with the intellect to back it up. In general, she's a snappish, sarcastic, and downright grumpy genius, and oftentimes running the Engineering department is like herding cats, but she's fiercely loyal to the crew, and especially those under her care. She'd do anything to keep this ship in the air, especially now that the Captain is gone to God-knows-where. TALENTS: mechanical genius; plays a mean hand of poker; good at putting the fear of Space God into younger crewmembers; is actually very good at managing Engineering and keeping her people happy; mixes drinks like a boss; willing to fling herself into dangerous machines or situations for the sake of others (talent or flaw, though?) FLAWS: can't tell a lie to save her life; doesn't really care for diplomatic stuff so she basically never comes across as charming; probably drinks more than she should
49,378	1,333	0	2,160	151	I. Heroes Sleeping “I should have brought a book.” Viluppo quietly admonished himself as he sat, beset on all sides by strangers sitting in the same type of uncomfortable wooden chair. They had all been waiting in those chairs for quite some time, as the numerous groans and the impatient shuffling of feet suggested. Viluppo ignored the rabble and looked back at the stone wall to his left. Over the past hour he had made something of a game out of it; he would pick a spot on the wall that looked particularly cracked or worn and then stare at it until it started to resemble something else. So far he had seen a lightning bolt, a stable that was starting to collapse, and a man wearing a ludicrously large hat. Before Viluppo could begin his fourth game something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was the tattered remnants of a large veil. It makes sense, Viluppo thought. This building probably used to be a temple. Worn from age, the snow white veil had begun to give way to the darkened hue of rot. Looking closer at it the young man could barely make out the holy seal. The seal was a peculiar symbol that wouldn't be recognized as holy by anyone unfamiliar with it. Its top half resembled a walking cane, the curved grip pointing to the left. The bottom of the cane led down into something shaped like the letter ‘U’, but wider than it was tall. Below that was a diamond shape that pierced the middle of the shape above it. Viluppo thought back to the first time he had seen the seal in his youth. He could almost hear the lilting words of his mother explaining it to him... ‘At first glance it resembles a sword, which signifies Alberon’s wrath against the wicked. But if you look at the curved part by itself, it stops looking like a sword. And if you glance at it a certain way it looks like a finger. This represents Alberon’s mercy and love. You see, there used to be a ritual where priests would lay on the ground and extend their arms, reaching out to the symbol. Kind of like how a baby reaches for the finger of his mother.’ The seal meant little to Viluppo these days, and he suspected that many of the people in the room with him felt the same way. “Viluppo!” An authoritative voice banished the young man’s reminiscent thoughts. A short, gruff-looking older man appeared through a door, the leftmost of many, and impatiently beckoned Viluppo inside. As he followed the man in he looked back at the crowd, glancing at a middle-aged balding gentleman. The gentleman returned his glance and muttered something that sounded like ‘lucky bastard’. That’s odd. I’m certain that man was here before I got here, Viluppo wondered as he walked. The narrow dimly lit hallway behind the door soon led to a small room. With its stark ivory walls and cold stone floor it resembled an old punishment room, where particularly disruptive church-goers were escorted to. The plethora of papers and forms covering much of the floor suggested that the room was now an office. “Will the officer be…” Viluppo’s question was met with the slam of a door as the gruff man abruptly left. The young man sighed and looked around. Only a large wooden desk broke the monotony of the endless mounds of paper strewn about. He dared not touch anything and just stood as still as he could. “At ease.” Another man soon appeared through the door, meeting Viluppo’s gaze with stern eyes. His chainmail clinked quietly as he marched to the desk. He reached into a pile of papers and pulled one out, apparently knowing exactly where it was. “You’re the first one I’ve seen today that didn’t mess with my forms.” The merest smirk crept onto the man’s face. “Normally you would have waited a lot longer and then met with some State grunt before getting to talk to a registration officer. But I’ve taken an interest in you, boy. Just don’t let that go to your head.” Viluppo’s calm blue eyes hid his confusion. He looked over the officer trying to figure out if he’d seen him before. He had large powerful hands caked with dirt, very short-cropped hair not unlike Viluppo’s own, and an obvious soldier's gait. But the man’s face stood out more than anything; three large scars were carved into it, two on the right cheek and one just above his left eye. Viluppo felt that he had stared a bit too long and decided to break the silence. “I did not catch your name, sir.” “I didn’t give it,” the officer scowled in response, his commanding bass voice filling the room with ease. “Let’s get down to business. I’m sure you’ve gone over the introductory papers, but I’m required to summarize them.” The officer dug through another pile and pulled out a small packet. He cleared his throat and began to read. “’As established by Our Lord Anderson, a Band is a small squad of civilians who are legally bound to the State of Coleander. Though not officially recognized as soldiers or peacekeepers, the civilians that constitute a Band will be assigned various tasks to improve the lives of the State’s citizens and assist the ongoing restoration and protection of the State and its allies. Bands are to follow orders to the best of their ability… compensation, monetary or otherwise, may be awarded to Bands following a successful mission… Bands may be subsumed into the State military during war time activities and emergency situations… the State is not responsible for any injuries or deaths sustained during missions…” The officer threw the packet across the room. “You get the idea, I’m sure. If you still wanna do this, you need to recruit others to your cause. You, by yourself, are nothing. Remember that.” “Yes sir. I will take your words to heart,” Viluppo answered eagerly. The officer’s smirk returned for a moment. “They taught you respect, at least.” The officer picked up another form and a wooden plaque and handed them to Viluppo. “That plaque has the insignia of the Band on it. Use that to let others know that you’re legitimate. Anyone interested in joining a Band will know what it means. Once you’ve assembled your men, have them sign that contract and bring it back to me. Again, you’d normally have to go through a couple of State men before an officer would review your contract and make your Band official. But just bring it back to me and I’ll take care of it.” The officer walked back to the door and opened it, pausing before he went through it. “By the way, my name is Forze. But it’s Hossar Forze to you. Now get going, trooper.” That last word caught Viluppo off-guard. He was certain he had heard it before, but he couldn’t quite remember where. He also didn’t know anyone by the name Forze, much less one as high-ranked as a Hossar. Viluppo decided to ruminate on these things later and exited the office. Soon he was outside, the blazing rays of summertime rapidly descending upon him. The court in front of the State building was alive with townsfolk, many of them peddling their wares in scant hopes of earning some gold or carrying bundles of food and other goods back to their homes. Viluppo scarcely noticed them as he slowly advanced down the cobblestone road, staring vacantly at the wooden plaque Forze had given him. Carefully carved into the wood was the Band insignia, a vaguely triangular shield adorned with five eyes. Holding the plaque imparted the young man with self-assurance that he hadn’t felt in a long time, a confident feeling that he truly could make a difference. After wandering around the courtyard a bit Viluppo got an idea. He knew deep down that the best way to attract potential Band members would be to set up shop somewhere, perhaps near the more desolate farming fields or outside a recruitment building. He knew that he should purchase a cheap roadside stand and flag down anyone who seemed remotely interested. But instead he raised the plaque as high above his head as he could, in hopes that some brave adventurer would see. “I suppose this is as good a place as any to start.”	Name: Viluppo Gender: Male Age: 20 Homeland: Coleander Specialty: Healing magic Weakness: Low durability/defense Appearance: A young man of average height and slim build with unimpressive arms. In normal day-to-day situations his facial expressions usually don't stray far from stoic or amused, regardless of how he actually feels. He sports very short black hair and has blue eyes, which are easily the most expressive part of his face. Weapon: A thin wooden club Personality: A studious, well-read individual, Viluppo is quite competent in channeling and binding divinare, though he still struggles with more advanced magics. Viluppo speaks formally despite his common-born status, a result of constantly keeping his nose in a book. Though he has no aversion to being social and enjoys the company of others, Viluppo is soft-spoken and would often rather listen than talk. This may cause him to come across as unassertive at times. Viluppo is skilled at long term planning but may overthink things and become lost in thought. He has passable skill with a weapon but he doesn't particularly enjoy fighting. Viluppo feels a strong sense of duty to both his friends and the State.
49,379	1,333	1	1,803	1,289	Solace Nocte (date unknown) "Do you ave anything to say for yourself, General?" "I confess to all for which I stand accused." "So be it. For the crimes of extortion, mass murder, and betrayal to the church and crown, you are hereby punished to death. By confession of guilt, you shall be removed of all properties, physical and otherwise, to be stripped of all titles, and buried in an unmarked grave." "One last request, my lord?" "What is it?" "Leave my with my armour." (one month ago) A large man in ornate mail enters the town square, just as the market stalls open for the day. he stops at a flower vendor, purchasing a bundle of marigolds. "Meeting a lady-friend?" the women asks cheerily, moving to hand him the blossoms, however she hesitates a moment when she notices the eery glow coming from beneath his helm "Not exactly." the knight replies calmly, taking the flowers and replacing them in her hand with a small satchel of coins "Paying my respects." with that, he turns to leave, making his way to the settlements place of worship. (today) Not far from the band registraton office, in a small cemetery, stands a large heavily armoured man, positioned at the last grave in the last row, atop each headstone rests a marigold and a cluster of white bramble flowers, under his breath, he whispers, some sort of prayer "-for my failure a thousand deaths, that those lives I have laid to waste may not be in vain" he utters, bending down to pick up the weapon from his feet, slinging an enormous sword across his silver cloaked shoulders, with that, the strange knight departs the graveyard, walking steadily to the band offices "Perhaps it has finally come to pass," the man muses to himself, entering the office courtyard. "Where does forgiveness lie?" Solace mutters beneath his breath, scanning the area "Do I lead, or shall I follow" he ponders, looking at the other prospective band members and leaders, observing them silently for a few moments. as he waits, the old soldier sees an eerily familiar symbol, the holy seal of Alberon, moments later he notices a man, young in the face, holding a sign above his head with the symbol for a band "And so he shall follow." the man thinks to himself, hesitating only slightly as he enters what was once hallowed ground, before approaching the young blue eyed man. "Excuse me, child, but are you perhaps recruiting members for a new band?" he says, voice booming over the excited masses "If so, I believe I can be of some use to you."	Name:Solace Nocte(alias, real name unknown) Gender:Male Age:Unknown Homeland:Coleander Occupation: Band Member Specialty: swordsmanship Weakness: subtlety Appearance: Clad entirely in shining armor lined with strange black cloth. no part of his physical body is visible. the armor is very archaic in design, and highly ornate, carved rather then hammered into shape. engraved on several of the components is a symbol; a perfect circle, cut clean through the armor, revealing the black cloth beneath, surrounded by 8 triangles, carved to approximately halfway through the plate Weapon:A greatsword. embedded in the crossguard is a purple Divinare infused gem that allows the weapon to repair itself over time, this includes permanently rendering the blade razor sharp. inscribed in the fuller are the words:for my failure, a thousand deaths Personality: Despite being extremely formal, Solace is a man of few words, and he speaks very deliberately, never uttering a word of his past deeds or why he participates in the band system. nevertheless, he is very much a cooperative warrior, and works well with others, be he in command or taking orders on the battlefield. Surprisingly devout, he will often say a prayer for those he slays, and regularly visits the graveyard of any town he visits in order to pay respects to the fallen, though he avoids churches and temples.
49,380	1,333	2	867	132	Osborn had traveled plenty in his short span of life, from all over his homeland of Griffan, to even the oddest corners of the neighboring lands, and yet he had never set foot in such a troubled place as he had when he arrived in Coleander. Sure, the first few nights had been fine, but that was only for as long as he could keep his pockets filled with money. He hadn’t anticipated finding small work to be this hard, even in a shambled state like this, but there he was, broke and hungry and not exactly enjoying himself. It’d been five days since he’d entered the state, and the last two had been spent sleeping outdoors. He had just enough cash for a small meal, if he found the right place, but was honestly more willing to spend it on alcohol at this point. “If I don’t get a drink in me soon, I might just die before ever finding myself a band to afford a drink with.” Osborn whined loudly to himself, followed by a groan as he yawned and stretched his back. He’d been sleeping just fine only a few hours earlier, curled up in a surprisingly quiet alleyway towards the center of town, but was woken up when the sounds of people and traffic began to pick up. Now he was in the heart of it all, weaving in and between people while they crowded around stalls and their keepers. He moved at a leisurely pace, keeping an ear out for any mention of the band system and possible work. That was what he’d traveled so far in search of, after all: a band to join. He’d heard through rumors that the king was willing to pay its bands a pretty penny in exchange for following orders dished out by the state and its people. Basically, it was grunt work, but Oz didn’t mind that, as long as the pay was honest and good. He’d yet to actually find a band worth joining though, and was beginning to tire of wandering around broke and drinkless. "Excuse me, child, but are you perhaps recruiting members for a new band?" The booming voice glided over the bustling sounds of people like a grand horn, catching the ears of the raven haired drifter. The words “new band” were all that really sunk into his head before he was suddenly sliding his way through the crowds in the general direction of the voice. Soon enough, he spotted the source: a tall, armored man. He was presumably addressing the younger man in front of him, who was holding a wooden sign with the bands’ symbol carved into it. “Well, that was simple.” Oz chirped with a widening grin, and strode towards the two with a faster pace. “If the big guys’ right, then sign me up too.” He spoke quickly and confidently, before the man holding the band sign had a chance to answer the armored fellow. He didn’t want to be rude and step on anyone’s toes, but if it came to competition, Oz wasn’t about to lose his chance to join a band to anyone.	Name: Osborn or just "Oz" Gender: Male Age: 22 Homeland: Griffan Specialty: Stealth, deceit, and killing. Weakness: Using divinare and long-range combat (he can do very basic channeling but that's about it) Appearance: Standing at an average height, Oz is a muscular but lithe man, lightly bearded, with a head of unruly black curls and very dark, sharp eyes. A crooked smirk is his default expression, and often the one he wears when around people. His skin, which is naturally a creamy tan, is littered with dozens of scars received from his many misadventures, the most notable being a short silvery nick that runs through his right eyebrow. He'll stick to wearing simple clothing that neither weights him down nor restricts his movements, but will favor darker colors and occasionally, light armor. Weapon: Oz'll use anything he can get his hands on, really, even if it's a bloody chicken bone. He prefers bladed weapons though, and is most practiced with daggers and short swords. Currently carries a pair of short swords on his person. Personality: Often coming off as light-hearted, cheery, and aloof, Oz is an observant man with a silver tongue and a shrewd personality. He likes money and fighting, and especially loves fighting for money. Offer the right price or reward and he would do nearly anything you ask. While his morals and manners might be lacking, he makes up for it by being honest, open minded and generally well tempered. Although loyalty lies in whoever pays better, he has a rule of always repaying his debts and never biting the hand that feeds him. His friendship is easy to achieve, but his respect and fondness are a bit harder to earn. That doesn't mean it'll be difficult to get along with him though, as he's a man of reason and doesn't often pick fights without a good one. He prefers to keep details of himself and his past private, and doesn't often give information away for free. If asked though, he'll probably spin you some lie that could either be believable or not, depending on who he's speaking to.
49,381	1,333	3	2,160	151	Viluppo could scarcely believe his good fortune; such a small amount of effort caught the attention of two capable-looking fellows. Struggling to keep his giddiness locked behind a calm visage, Viluppo turned to Oz. His toned arms and sharp eyes gave an impression of experience, someone who has seen much during his travels. Certainly an advantage in the profession he sought. "Well, as I was about to tell Sir Knight here, I'd be honored to work with you. Do you know Sir Knight? You seemed to follow him right to m..." After glancing back at Solace, something about the armored man demanded Viluppo's attention... or rather, something he carried. An impressive looking greatsword peeked out behind the massive knight. The jewel in its crossguard seemed to gleam in the noontide light. Viluppo began to excitedly pace around Solace to get a better look at the sword, his usual propriety giving way to curiosity. "This is a remarkable blade! The kind that you would get up in Griffan at a wastrel's price! And I can faintly feel its rhythm, even!" Normally weapons like this are made so that its divinare is concealed by that of its owner. So some rogue can't just channel its magic and use it against you, of course. But if I focus I can feel a little divinare spill forth from the hilt! It must pack quite a magical punch! Where did you get it?" Viluppo's passion started to dim as he realized the stares he was getting. The young man calmed himself down and looked at Solace and Oz with a more composed countenance. "I... apologize for all the questions, but I do have two more. What are your names? And why do wish to join me?"	Name: Viluppo Gender: Male Age: 20 Homeland: Coleander Specialty: Healing magic Weakness: Low durability/defense Appearance: A young man of average height and slim build with unimpressive arms. In normal day-to-day situations his facial expressions usually don't stray far from stoic or amused, regardless of how he actually feels. He sports very short black hair and has blue eyes, which are easily the most expressive part of his face. Weapon: A thin wooden club Personality: A studious, well-read individual, Viluppo is quite competent in channeling and binding divinare, though he still struggles with more advanced magics. Viluppo speaks formally despite his common-born status, a result of constantly keeping his nose in a book. Though he has no aversion to being social and enjoys the company of others, Viluppo is soft-spoken and would often rather listen than talk. This may cause him to come across as unassertive at times. Viluppo is skilled at long term planning but may overthink things and become lost in thought. He has passable skill with a weapon but he doesn't particularly enjoy fighting. Viluppo feels a strong sense of duty to both his friends and the State.
49,382	1,333	4	1,803	1,289	Solace The armored man is wary as Viluppo rushes behind him to examine the blade upon his back"I suppose it is quite impressive," the soldier says, shifting his stane and carfully drawing his blade, "I often forget how uncommon such tools are now." Solace adds, voice lowering to a rumble to avoid disturbing the crowd further as he rests the large sword point first in the ground, allowing the curious blue eyed youth to examine it"I feel great pity for the bandit that attempts to turn it upon me, the steel is tuned to prevent such tomfoolery." he utters, "Merely probing, however, will deliver no proper backlash." with that, he returns the mighty sword to its place at his back "I suppose you could say it was a family heirloom, a set with my armor. forged by a famous member of my clan more years ago than I can count." He sighs, eyes flickering out for a brief moment"You may call me Solace, child." the old knight says, turning to acknowledge the roguish individual who had tailed him "I have never met this young man in my life." he extends an armoured hand to each of them, moving smoothly in spite of his armors bulk "And I seek honest work for honest pay, I merely have a limited set of skills with which to do so." he lies, his focus shifting briefly to the worn symbol carved in the old temple wall.	Name:Solace Nocte(alias, real name unknown) Gender:Male Age:Unknown Homeland:Coleander Occupation: Band Member Specialty: swordsmanship Weakness: subtlety Appearance: Clad entirely in shining armor lined with strange black cloth. no part of his physical body is visible. the armor is very archaic in design, and highly ornate, carved rather then hammered into shape. engraved on several of the components is a symbol; a perfect circle, cut clean through the armor, revealing the black cloth beneath, surrounded by 8 triangles, carved to approximately halfway through the plate Weapon:A greatsword. embedded in the crossguard is a purple Divinare infused gem that allows the weapon to repair itself over time, this includes permanently rendering the blade razor sharp. inscribed in the fuller are the words:for my failure, a thousand deaths Personality: Despite being extremely formal, Solace is a man of few words, and he speaks very deliberately, never uttering a word of his past deeds or why he participates in the band system. nevertheless, he is very much a cooperative warrior, and works well with others, be he in command or taking orders on the battlefield. Surprisingly devout, he will often say a prayer for those he slays, and regularly visits the graveyard of any town he visits in order to pay respects to the fallen, though he avoids churches and temples.
49,383	1,333	5	867	132	So the kid was familiar with divinare and weaponry? That was a good sign. Oz watched the blue eyed man quickly circle the armored fellow, rambling off about stuff that Oz only barely caught and understood himself. He felt much more interested in this band now that there was a chance that he’d be working with someone skilled in divinare. Despite not understanding how the stuff worked himself, he knew well enough how powerful of an asset such users could be. Oz gives the armored man a quick glance after he gives his name, now a bit interested in his other possible future band-mate. He obviously had to be good in a fight, what with the weapon he’s carrying being so nice. At least, he assumed it was nice, going off of what blue eyes had spouted about it earlier. Oz’s eyes lit up a bit, glancing over at blue eyes again. Maybe he’d really lucked out and this was a band with potential? It’d mean getting that drink a whole lot sooner. “My name’s Oz.” He introduced himself after the armored man had gone silent, extending a hand towards the blue eyed man. “I’m a simply a traveler looking for good paying work.” He stated casually, his grin ever present on his cheeks. “Hoping to find some through the band system. I heard it was working out quite well and thought I’d join too.” He added happily.	Name: Osborn or just "Oz" Gender: Male Age: 22 Homeland: Griffan Specialty: Stealth, deceit, and killing. Weakness: Using divinare and long-range combat (he can do very basic channeling but that's about it) Appearance: Standing at an average height, Oz is a muscular but lithe man, lightly bearded, with a head of unruly black curls and very dark, sharp eyes. A crooked smirk is his default expression, and often the one he wears when around people. His skin, which is naturally a creamy tan, is littered with dozens of scars received from his many misadventures, the most notable being a short silvery nick that runs through his right eyebrow. He'll stick to wearing simple clothing that neither weights him down nor restricts his movements, but will favor darker colors and occasionally, light armor. Weapon: Oz'll use anything he can get his hands on, really, even if it's a bloody chicken bone. He prefers bladed weapons though, and is most practiced with daggers and short swords. Currently carries a pair of short swords on his person. Personality: Often coming off as light-hearted, cheery, and aloof, Oz is an observant man with a silver tongue and a shrewd personality. He likes money and fighting, and especially loves fighting for money. Offer the right price or reward and he would do nearly anything you ask. While his morals and manners might be lacking, he makes up for it by being honest, open minded and generally well tempered. Although loyalty lies in whoever pays better, he has a rule of always repaying his debts and never biting the hand that feeds him. His friendship is easy to achieve, but his respect and fondness are a bit harder to earn. That doesn't mean it'll be difficult to get along with him though, as he's a man of reason and doesn't often pick fights without a good one. He prefers to keep details of himself and his past private, and doesn't often give information away for free. If asked though, he'll probably spin you some lie that could either be believable or not, depending on who he's speaking to.
49,384	1,333	6	2,160	151	After learning the two adventurer's names and listening to their stories Viluppo smiled, apparently satisfied with their answers. Oz offered a handshake and Viluppo gladly obliged, giving the traveler's hand a single firm shake. "I'm glad to meet you Solace, Oz. My name is Viluppo Estrick. I'm... not exactly new to this line of work, but I have never been part of a Band before. I'm not sure if you're familiar with the State but the War of Arms took quite a toll on us all. Honest work has been hard to come by lately, what with fewer jobs, the value of gold increasing, the closing of some trade routes... you get the idea. Lord Anderson's thought was that common folk like us could help revive the State by taking on jobs that the soldiers or the guard would normally do. So if you're prepared to assist me and earn an honorable living, I would have you sign this contract." Viuppo held out the Band's Contract for Solace and Oz to see. The Band's Contract This agreement is made between the undersigned, hereafter referred to as 'Band Members', and the State of Coleander, hereafter referred to as 'The State', considered legally binding until such a time as The State chooses to dissolve the agreement. Witness: 1. Band Members are considered under temporary employ of the State and may or may not be allowed specific privileges or knowledges at the discretion of The State. 2. Within the duration of employ Band Members will: A. Perform such duties as required by The State to the utmost of the Band Member's abilities. B. Devote such time and effort as may be required to fulfill such duties. C. Not engage in any employ or activity that would hinder the ability to fulfill such duties.3. For services rendered, Band Members will be compensated at the discretion of The State. 4. In the event of emergency or wartime effort, such duties may be revised at the discretion of The State with such event or effort in mind. 5. The Band Member's contract may be dissolved at any time, with or without reason, at the discretion of The State. 6. In the event that the Band Member performs an action deemed harmful or treasonous to The State, this agreement will be dissolved and the Band Member will be punished according to State law. 7. In the event that the Band Member incurs grievous harm or bodily death during employ, the State will not be considered legally responsible and the Band Member's agreement will be dissolved. In witness to the agreement of the above terms, the Band Member will affix their signature below. Viluppo Estrick After allowing them ample time to read, Viluppo lent the pair a pen and they signed the contract. Viluppo rolled the parchment up and pointed to the registration building he had left not long ago. "Well sirs, if you'll follow me." Soon the trio was in the waiting room of the building, surrounded by many of the same impatient townsfolk that Viluppo sat with earlier. Before long Viluppo spotted the short gruff man again and approached him with a small gleam in his eye. The gruff man let loose a glare full of scorn when he requested to speak with Forze again, but nevertheless went through the leftmost door to pass along the message. Within a couple of minutes the gruff man returned and motioned for Viluppo, Solace and Oz to enter Forze's office. The three men shuffled into the office to be faced with Forze sitting behind his desk, his hands clasped together and supporting his chin. If the officer was the least bit surprised to see Viluppo again so soon he hid it flawlessly. Forze silently outstretched his hand and gave an implicit order for Viluppo to relinquish his contract, which he did. Viluppo imagined that his two new compatriots would find the endless mounds of paperwork to be a baffling sight, but he was too nervous to glance back at them or do anything but watch Forze review the contract. After a handful of extremely long seconds Forze slowly got up from his chair and bridged the distance between himself and Solace. The officer stared fearlessly into the knight's concealed face, despite the fact that he had to look upward to do so. He then repeated the gesture with Oz. Immediately after staring the two down Forze went back to his desk as though nothing had happened. "Everything looks to be in order, trooper. The three of you are now officially a Band." Despite his joy at hearing this, Viluppo responded with an inquiry. "Forz... er, Hossar, sir... Why do you call me 'trooper'?" The more he heard the nickname, the more familiar it seemed, somehow. But try as he might, he couldn't remember its origin. Forze utterly ignored the question and continued on in his deep booming voice. "If you end up with more people who wanna join you later, just bring them here and have them sign the contract. Also, you'll need this while you're out on a mission." Forze dug a small chain necklace from his pocket and handed it to Viluppo. On the end of the necklace was a charm with the Band's insignia. "That will let others know who you work for." Viluppo, not someone who enjoyed wearing jewelry, put the necklace in the pocket of his worn-looking dark brown pants. "I thank you for this opportunity, sir. Though I must ask, when will receive our first orders?" "Right now," Forze snapped in a completely humorless tone. He pulled out another document from his pocket, this one much smaller than the previous ones, and gave it to Viluppo. "Your mission is to retrieve a Kymren Ore and deliver it to a certain citizen. Her name and the directions to her living quarters are on that parchment. You remember what a Kymren Ore is, right? Its a slab of rock that houses a special kind of divinare, the merging kind. Hence its other name, the Merger Stone. You three are to head to the Hiddoran Cavern and retrieve one. Its true that the place was mostly stripped bare during the war, but surely you can find at least one. The Cavern is on the leftmost edge of West Anders, so it'll take you about six or seven hours to reach it on foot. Once you have completed the mission and the citizen confirms it with me, you'll receive your reward. That is all. Dismissed." Back outside the building Viluppo turned to Solace and Oz, a grin slowly seeping onto his face. "Well, if you two have no objections, let's complete our mission! With luck we may be finished by nightfall!" And so the newly form Band headed towards the Hiddoran Cavern, leaving their point of Attac village and pressing onward through the neighboring Ballygren farmland, stopping only briefly to purchase a few rations of food with what little gold Viluppo had. Before long a seemingly endless plain stretched out before them, the dry grass crunching beneath their every step. The Band was making good progress, but the Cavern they sought was still many miles away. They would likely have time to kill as they ventured.	Name: Viluppo Gender: Male Age: 20 Homeland: Coleander Specialty: Healing magic Weakness: Low durability/defense Appearance: A young man of average height and slim build with unimpressive arms. In normal day-to-day situations his facial expressions usually don't stray far from stoic or amused, regardless of how he actually feels. He sports very short black hair and has blue eyes, which are easily the most expressive part of his face. Weapon: A thin wooden club Personality: A studious, well-read individual, Viluppo is quite competent in channeling and binding divinare, though he still struggles with more advanced magics. Viluppo speaks formally despite his common-born status, a result of constantly keeping his nose in a book. Though he has no aversion to being social and enjoys the company of others, Viluppo is soft-spoken and would often rather listen than talk. This may cause him to come across as unassertive at times. Viluppo is skilled at long term planning but may overthink things and become lost in thought. He has passable skill with a weapon but he doesn't particularly enjoy fighting. Viluppo feels a strong sense of duty to both his friends and the State.
49,385	1,333	7	2,160	151	The trio continued through the Ballygren Plains. A cool wind lazily swept through the fields, a welcome contrast to the relentless rays of the solstice sun. In the distance stood a mighty oak tree that seemed to bid the group come as the wind played with its thinner branches. The Band decided that a quick break wouldn't stall them long, so they sought refuge from the heat under the tree's massive shadow. Viluppo sat down in the shade and wiped the sweat from his brow. He turned to Solace, prepared to ask how he can travel so far in this weather wearing such heavy-looking armor. Instead his attention was drawn to something much smaller: a flower growing at Solace's feet. Its delicate twisting stem supported a bright red style, where multiple thin stamens protruded out into the summer air. Springing forth from the flower's center were five creamy white petals, each with a single red dot in the middle. Turning to his comrades, Viluppo motioned to the flower. "Normally I don't care much for flowers, but this one is rather rare! I don't know its real name, but everyone in Coleander calls it a neverlily. They only grow in areas with very large pools of divinare, and they tend to die rather quickly when planted anywhere else. I haven't seen one in years." The blue-eyed boy stood up and stretched. "While we're on the subject, would either of you mind if I shared with you what I know? About divinare, I mean? It never hurts to review the basics from time to time. You see, I was well recognized as a skilled manipulator of magic back at West Anders Higher Academy. I had once written a speech about divinare use for lower students, but I never received the chance to use it. So, I hope you'll allow me to do so now." Solace and Oz noticed a cadence of pride in Viluppo's last sentence. "Divinare is like the air we breathe; we cannot see it or hear it, but it exists nearly everywhere; in nature, in beasts, and in us. And like air, divinare is finite and can be depleted, but also restored, over time. Divinare is what allows us to do things that generations before us only dreamed about; to make fire dance between our fingers, to bend the earth to our will, to heal the sick and forge more potent weapons. Its discovery could easily be called one of the most important events in our time." "But how does one take hold of this magical clay of the earth and mold it on a whim? The answer, quite literally, lies within. Every living thing in this world, and some non-living things on top of that, have their own unique rhythm. Imagine the feeling of your heart, how it continues to beat steadily, endlessly, of its own volition. Now, imagine your entire body, the very core of your being, possessing such a beat. That is your rhythm. No two are the same, but all share some common traits, just the same as any two minstrel songs you can name. This rhythm is the lantern that lights the way to all magic. However, it is not enough to merely feel one's own rhythm; one must be able to grasp the rhythms of the world around him, and understand how they relate to his own." Viluppo pointed to the neverlily. "Take this flower, for example. I have already learned quite well what my own rhythm feels like, but now I must feel the rhythm within the flower." At that, Viluppo went quiet, his eyes losing their enthusiastic luster as he focused. Somewhere within Viluppo, not quite in his ears but not quite in his mind, he heard something. It was a melancholy noise, evoking a familiar feeling of utter mortality. The feeling that all things perish at some time or other. Viluppo concentrated on this noise, pushing deeper into its aural depths. The noise began to condense, to stabilize, until it changed into a clearer sound that Viluppo immediately recognized: the sound of the wind brushing through a grassy meadow. Gracefully, repeatedly, on and on. That was the flower's rhythm. Viluppo slowly let his focus on the flower's rhythm wane as he imagined his own rhythm, the sound of many small footsteps marching forward in perfect harmony. With both rhythms ringing clear in his head, the boy loosened his grip on his own rhythm, allowing it to fade back into the recesses of his innermost self. It grew softer and more muffled until the flower's rhythm had all but overpowered it. Immediately the neverlily reacted. It lurched forward, nearly snapping itself in two. Without warning, the lily's five petals shot into the air, all of them with force of a marksman's arrow. The flower lilted after this amazing feat, the color rapidly disappearing from what remained of it. The Band members looked up to see that two of the petals had firmly lodged themselves into one of the tree's branches. Viluppo turned back to his companions and grinned. "That... is channeling divinare: allowing another rhythm to claim victory over your own. Doing this surrenders the divinare inside of your body, agitating and releasing the divinare from the other source. This is the basis on which a great deal of magic is founded." Glancing at the dead flower his presentation left in its wake, Viluppo chuckled. "I was going to show you my presentation on binding divinare too, but I guess I pushed the neverlily too hard. So I suppose I'm done for now. I hope I didn't bore you." "But I've gone on about myself enough; I'd like to know more about you two."	Name: Viluppo Gender: Male Age: 20 Homeland: Coleander Specialty: Healing magic Weakness: Low durability/defense Appearance: A young man of average height and slim build with unimpressive arms. In normal day-to-day situations his facial expressions usually don't stray far from stoic or amused, regardless of how he actually feels. He sports very short black hair and has blue eyes, which are easily the most expressive part of his face. Weapon: A thin wooden club Personality: A studious, well-read individual, Viluppo is quite competent in channeling and binding divinare, though he still struggles with more advanced magics. Viluppo speaks formally despite his common-born status, a result of constantly keeping his nose in a book. Though he has no aversion to being social and enjoys the company of others, Viluppo is soft-spoken and would often rather listen than talk. This may cause him to come across as unassertive at times. Viluppo is skilled at long term planning but may overthink things and become lost in thought. He has passable skill with a weapon but he doesn't particularly enjoy fighting. Viluppo feels a strong sense of duty to both his friends and the State.
49,386	1,334	0	2,016	1,003	Commander Rin Monroe It had been a long night to say the least. Luckily the only person aware of the untold events I could trust. If for no other reason than he has as much to loose by speaking about them as I do. I shake my head and look around the shower. How long had I been here? "Damn it, I better not be late." I curse to myself as I turn off the water and step out. The bathroom was filled with steam. Pulling the towel off the rack I make my way reluctantly to the mirror. As I wipe away the moisture from the glass the appearance of the tired woman appears before me. As I go about getting ready my mind drifts from the past to the future. What had happened and what will happen. Both worried my equally. Before I know it I'm dressed and ready to go. Tap tap tap tap rung through the quiet corridor as I walked. The sound my combat boots make on the cold metal floor is somewhat a comfort these days. It's familiar. I'm so use to it I can barely stand to wear other shoes. Out of habit I look down at my watch. Right on schedule, which for me is slightly ahead of everyone else schedule. An unmistakable scent of jet fuel filled my senses, an obvious sign that the hangar was only right around the corner. Immediately after entering I spot our transport ship. Briskly I make my way to the ship. Several lower ranking officers were loading cargo into the ship. Upon pulling one to the side I hand him my duffle bag and tell him to put it in my quarters. Now all that's left to do is wait for everyone else to arrive. Captain Brandy Carson With a grunt and a grumble I roll over and look at my clock. "Fuck!" I exclaim as I shoot up out of my bed. "Stupid alarm! How could you not go off on a day like today?!" I yell at the hunk of plastic sitting on my table. As quickly as possible I dress in my formal blue uniform. Swinging the door open I pick up my duffle bag and start to run down the corridor. I attempt to multitask running while also buttoning my jacket. It nearly caused me to run into people. "Sorry!" I shout as I pass by.	Commander Rin Monroe -Full name: Rin Lee Monroe -Age: 80 -Gender: Female -Rebirth: Yes. She was the first official successful case in the Rebirth project. Recently had the 50 year anniversary for being in Rebirth. -Rank/Assignment: Commander -Call-sign: Valkyrie -Personality: Rin Monroe is known by her stern, commanding, cold, rough, and unforgiving personality. She is rough around the edges and harsh. Her opinion of you will generally be known and given openly with little to no care for who you are or what rank you are. If she disagrees with you, you will know it. She does though have good reason for being the way she is. Years of seeing horrible things and hundreds off Rebirths has made her jaded. Constantly getting hurt from trusting people or even just showing that she cares has made her shut off. Many consider her to be a heartless monster but in all truth she is far from it. Perhaps part of her problem is that she cares to much. Deep, deep, down she does have a more compassionate side but it's hard to find because she has built practically impenetrable walls around it. Her emotions are burred under years of untold heartache. If you can ever gain her trust it is likely that you'll never loose it. Time apart doesn't diminish her trust in a person, only their actions can change it. When she trusts and cares for someone there is little to nothing she won't do for them. Most who knew her when she was younger barely recognize her. It seems all that is left of her is anger. It isn't so much so that she doesn't have emotions anymore but that they are burred and confused. Occasionally happiness, enjoyment, and love will show through her bitter exterior but when they do it can be in strange ways. Needless to say she is a complex and confusing person, even to herself. -History: “My name is Rin Monroe. I grew up in a little village on the planet Tenish. My father was the best fighter pilot of his time in the R.A.S. When I was only three years old he gave his life to prevent a major attack on the the home planet, Shintie. He has always been and will always be regarded as a hero. I was raised by my loving mother and grandparents. When I turned sixteen I decided to follow in my father's foot steps, so I ran away from home to join the military. I went through two years of rigorous training at the academy in Vail, -the capitol of Tenish- to become a fighter pilot. Five days after my eighteenth birthday my dream came true when I was sent into battle. Little did I know of what laid ahead of me. Our mission was to protect a larger ship caring a bomb, strait through the battle field to the enemy battle ship. The mission was a success, but out of the full twenty-five of us that they sent out, I was the only one to survive. Some said it was a miracle, but my commanding officers recognized it as my unique natural ability. I quickly became known as the best pilot in the R.A.S. Years pasted and I gained many respectful honorers, one of witch was being the youngest ever to be appointed as C.A.G (Commander of the Air Group). Then one fateful day I was approached by my commanding officer and a few scientists. “Live forever”, “Never die”, ”Invincible”, ”The perfect soldier” were a few of the phrases used. They told me that I could die however many times and I would just wake up in a new body just like my old one, every time. They said it had to do with some-sort of cloning and genetic modification. I jumped on the opportunity. They took me into this lab where they pocked and prodded me. “Taking samples” is what they called it. For six months I waited to hear from them. One day two men in black coats told me to come with them, I complied. After blind-folded me they drug me off. When they removed it I was tied to a table in a dark lab surrounded by people. “We're ready to began.” one of the women said. “What does that mean?” I asked nervously. “Don't worry. It will be over soon.” she reassured me. Before I could say another word she pulled out a hand gun and shot me in the head. I saw a quick flash of memories and then felt dizzy and unsure feeling.“Am I dead?” I thought. Suddenly I notice something on my head, it felt almost like a helmet. I blinked my eyes but couldn't see anything. The thing raised off my head and I saw that I was in some kind of tube that was filled with a goopy liquid. The last thing I could remember was the woman pointing a gun at my head, a blast of pain and, then seeing the memories. “Congratulation! Your first resurrection was a success!” Said a voice from behind me. It was the head of the project, Isaac Dean. “You mean...?” I begun to say. “Yes! You my dear just faced death, and won.” He said with a smile. I couldn't believe it, I had just died, and came back. Holding out a hand he helped me out of the tube. “Welcome to the league of the invincible...” He said putting his arm around me. If only I knew how my life would change....” -Skills: An amazing pilot, has loads of experience with lots of different weapons. Skilled with guns and knifes. Has an eye like a hawk when she is in her Viper. She has an uncanny and incomparable talent at being a fighter (Specifically Viper) Pilot. Strong swimmer(She spent most her time on the beach growing up). Many would never guess it but she's a very good cook. -Weaknesses: Isn't so good with electronics, especially the more advanced stuff. While she usually knows at least kind of what she's doing they seem to just hate her. The cold bothers her. Spiders freak her out. Emotionally repressed and twisted. It's difficult for her to form personal relationship in recent years. She doesn't always look at the full picture. Once she get's an idea set in her mind it's hard for her to change it. -Romantic relationship: Currently none but has had many in the past. She doesn't openly trust and it's near to impossible to gain her trust. -Other: She lived in a small house on a hill over looking a beach. Most of her childhood was spent on the beach and in the ocean. Her love for water has never went away. She was given her middle name in honor for her father after his death. -Appearance: She stands at 5'10" with a well toned but plentifully feminine figure. Through the years and Rebirth she's gone through quite a variety of different tattoos and scars. At the moment she has very few scars and only a couple of tattoos. She has naturally pinkish-blonde hair (mostly kept in a ponytail) that is only seen in certain blood lines on Tenish and gray-blue eyes. Her look is generally cold and stern, when she was younger and happy she was often times complimented on having a beautiful smile. -Picture:
49,387	1,334	1	2,369	211	Brine i had been up and going for three or four hours before anyone else even started to wake and had been busy. i had eaten breakfast... twice, done my morning jog around the base, could have sworn i heard a man voice in the commander's room but it must have been the T.V. i lifted weights in the gym and moved all my things to the ship which was as far as i got because i had not received my room assignment yet so i sat on a crate in the hanger cleaning my sidearm waiting for everyone else. I was on the far side of the hanger when commander Monroe walked in. I stood put my gun back together and walked across the hanger. Derek it had been a pretty long night for me, i always had trouble sleeping before a big mission like this. i had turned my alarm off before it could even ring and gone to the mess for some breakfast talked to the other early birds mostly L.T. commander Sharp who said he eaten one breakfast already but by the size of his plate it look like he hadn't eaten in days. after that i had gone back to my room to finish packing.	-Full name: Brine Miller Sharp -Age: 72 -Gender: Male -Rebirth : Yes (2nd Gen aka the Reach program) -Rank / Assignment: RAS Lieutenant Commander / (Rin's Second in Command) -Call-sign: Tartan Chivalrous (if you don’t know what this means Google it), outgoing and jovial at most times but hardened by years of war. He speaks his mind regardless of rank or position. Always quick with a joke and ready to lend a hand. In a tight spot he’s quick on his feet to make needed changes and decisions, and isn’t afraid to make the hard calls. Unless you've already gained his trust and respect he won't blindly follow your orders without question. He still exhibits many UKD traits and is constantly trying to adapt his view point to match the RAS. Because he's still new to the RAS he can be awkward at times, unsure of what he should do or say. Despite his hatred of the UKD he still battles with the tenancy to consider himself as part of it. He started life on Hexon where his mother died in a mining accident when he was 16. His father was an exemplary solder and fine officer in the UKD and thus on active deployment at the time of his mother’s death. As soon as his father received word of what happened, he had him put in the finest of military schools. Despite a few “discrepancies” he graduated with honors and was immediately deployed to a convoy escort detail and established himself as a capable pilot and excellent tactician. He rose in the ranks quickly attaining the rank of commander in record time. One of the first to be approached for the Living project he volunteered on the spot. Years later he was also afforded the opportunity to join the latest experiment. This new program known as Reach was genetic enhancements to Living clones to give the host super human capabilities. Such as increased strength, speed, healing, stamina, and durability. The refinement process of this new program took about five years be written off as being ready for combat. Sent out on a test mission with his original squad of none Living soldiers they found themselves out numbered and out gunned and behind enemy lines. Brine put in a request for back up but it was immediately dined. His superiors considered the rest of the squad to be expendable and knew that Brine would download into a new clone if he died. After downloading he found out that all along the plain had been for them to be wiped out. There was never any chance of them being rescued. The mission was more or less them just taking their new weapon for a test run. Brine was infuriated, so much so that they had to sedate him. From that point on Brine's view of the UKD was completely changed. He saw them for the monster they are. Stealing the entire record and research information for the Reach program he destroyed the base and left for the RAS. Considered a trader because of the information he took from the UKD he was immediately cut from the Living Program. After escaping UKD territory he surrendered himself and the information he had stolen to the RAS. His only request was to be granted asylum, excepted as a RAS soldier and to be considered for the Rebirth program. Once past all the red tape that came with gaining the trust of the RAS he eventually joined Rebirth and their version of the Reach the program. -Being part of the Reach program he has increased strength, speed, reaction time, and cognative functions. Received advanced training in sabotage, heavy weapons, field repairs (jerry rigging), and piloting. Hes a capable pilot, but an excellent tactician. Because of his past assignments he is use to working behind enemy lines. Because of the genetic augmentations he has an increased metabolism and MUST eat 5 -6 times a day. Tends to over heat in warmer climates, so therefore prefers cooler temperatures. Hes still trying to adjust to his new body, often times forgetting his own strength. Sometimes he is blinded by rage over what the UKD did to his squad. -Never has taken much interest in any one woman. Maybe a fling here and there or a few one night stands but never anything serious. -He has a heavily modified UKD Tomahawk 42 (T42) heavy assault fighter which was the ship he escaped in. -Caucasian, 6’4”, muscular build, black shoulder length hair, vertical scar starting just above the left eye and ending just below it, goatee, tattoo on the left side of his upper back just below the neck. Brine Tattoo Tomahawk 42
49,388	1,334	2	1,733	403	Giovanna I rolled over and ran a hand across the soft stubble attop my head. I couldn't remember where I was. But that was usual. My dreams had seemed more real that this present moment, and yet they had vanished the instant I woke. That was pretty usual too. I had decided one time that I didn't dream, I only remembered; and whatever it was they had done to me always wiped them away when I woke. I heard a movement in my room. Sitting up suddenly I looked over at the girl with wide eyes and she looked at me with a confused expression. "What?" She asked, as she then continued on with whatever she had been doing; apparently collecting my things for me. "Why the hell are you here?" I asked, trying to shake my head out of the fog. "I'm always here." She muttered, and zipped up my bag. I finally remembered, where I was. And she, she was one of those attendants they always put on my case so I don't fuck everything up. I groaned. "They usually don't last this long." * * * * * I approached the hangar with my pack and attendant in tow, she dragged along behind me like a ball and chain. I stared at the others with a somewhat blank expression—which usually came off as more of a bitch face—but I didn't bother to speak up. Stares make people uncomfortable, which is always funny, or if not it just allows them to assume whatever they were going to assume about you anyway. A bit embarrassed by me, the attendant girl with me stepped up and saluted the commander: "Giovanna Zetta reporting for duty ma'am. And myself, her assigned attendant. I am in charge of, um managing her behavior, ma'am." "G" I grumbled under my breath. "Just G."	{ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜᴅʀᴀᴡɴ}
49,389	1,334	3	866	228	Eli Matthews I was currently walking down the corridor to the Hanger. I had woken up several hours earlier but I had lost track of time. I had started fiddling with a computer and trying out some new codes and had gotten so absorbed into it that I had completely forgotten I actually had somewhere to be today. I wasn't terribly late though, so I wasn't dashing down the halls. I got to the hanger and stood there for a minute, looking to see if there was anyone I knew on this mission. My eyes caught on a girl standing by the ship and I grinned as I recognized my little sister. I started to walk towards her. Raina Matthews I stood in the hanger and yawned as I leaned against the haul of the ship. I hated waking up for missions, and it was fairly plain to see that I wanted to go back to bed. I had woken up a little late and hadn't gotten to have my morning coffee, which meant I was going to be in a pretty foul mood. I saw a few other people in the hanger around me and was glad that I had managed to make it mostly on time. I was usually the last person to walk in the door, so today was a first. I was never early. I had already moved all of my stuff onto the ship so now I was just waiting for all of us to leave. I suddenly saw a familiar face walking towards me and I grinned as I stood up straight and started to run towards my brother. "Eli!" I yelled as I tackled him.	-Full Name: Raina Matthews -Age: 75 -Gender: Female -Rebirth: Yes -Rank / Assignment: Sergent -Call-sign: Sky Hawk -Personality: Raina is very straight-forward and you never have to guess what she's thinking. She mostly likes keeping to herself but when she's in the mood, she can be quite sociable and funny. Most people like her. It is almost impossible for her to hold a grudge and she is fiercely loyal. She is extremely smart and she knows it but she tries very hard not to be arrogant about it. Her Sassy, stubborn, sarcastic personality has gotten her into trouble more times then she cares to remember but somehow she always managed to get out of trouble before anything serious happened. Despite her happy outward appearance, she has been hurt many times in her life and she guards her heart very closely. It is not a easy task to gain her trust and only a select few can gain it. She has always listened to her instincts, and they normally turn out to be right. She has a kind heart and likes to help others out whenever she can. She views the rules as sometimes breakable depending on 3 things. 1: who she's with 2: what rules of her own does it conflict with and 3: what are the consequences. She has her own set of rules that she lives by. A code if you will. Many times, this "code" of hers has gotten her into heaps of trouble and has almost gotten her demoted. She's never really been very girly and has always seemed to not fit in with other girls. Give her a punching bag and she'll be happy. Occasionally, when she's interested in someone she well completely transform and try to act like a girl. Most of the time, she is kinda quiet and follows orders but if she sees a problem with what her commander has told her to do she is not afraid to speak up. Raina will always fight for what she believes in and to her, surrender is NOT an option. Because of her stubbornness and her simple refusal to give up and die, she wins most battles she's in. -History: Raina was born and raised on Tenish and had a very happy childhood. Her father was a wealthy man and they didn't have as hard of struggles as most did. She grew up with four older and younger brothers and they all entertained each other. They would often disappear into the woods for hours causing their mother to worry. Everything was as good as it could be during the war... Until one day her entire world shattered. Because of her family's wealth their home was one of the targets of a U.K.D attack when she was 14. Her home was destroyed by missiles and fire, her parents dead, and only one of her brothers survived. They became even closer then they were before and their bond is unbreakable. That was the day that she vowed to help destroy the U.K.D. When she was old enough she joined the army and was after years and years of hard training she was asked to join the "rebirth" project. She accepted. She has fought in many battles but one note-worthy one was when the U.K D had tried to overtake Hanorat. they had planted a bomb in the capital city of Hanorat in an attempt to cause wide-spread panic. Raina had been first on the scene along with her best friend. After diss-arming the bomb, Raina was able to save Hanorat's capital city but not her friend, who had been shot while watching Raina's back. To this day she still feels as though it was her fault. After that, battle though, her determination only became stronger and she started to rise through the ranks. She soon discovered she was a good mechanic and became a engineer for some time helping repair the damaged ships but her calling had always been to be in the heart of the battle. She decided that she was going to use her skills to her advantage and built a Starhound Class Viper from scratch and her claim to fame is that it is one of the fastest in the fleet. She was taken prisoner at some point but she escaped. She had actually managed to gain information instead of give information. She had discovered that people loved to tell you that you were wrong and she used it to her advantage. -Skills: Advanced hand-to-hand combat, pilot, excellent mechanic, advanced sniper, bomb making/disarming. -Weakness: She is way to relaxed when it comes to the rules and regulations. She also is loyal to her brother before anyone else and if she has to choose between helping him or the R.A.S she will always choose Eli. -Romantic Relationship: She's had a few flings. One serious relationship but that ended badly. At the moment she isn't really looking but she's open to a relationship. -Other: She always has on a small moonstone pendant that her mother gave to her as a baby. It supposedly had been in her family for generations. She also has a Starhound class viper which she has named Falcon. Her and her brother Eli have the same tattoo on their right shoulder (see Eli's sign-up for a pic) she also nick-named her brother "Scruffy" -Appearance: Raina stands at about 5''9 and has a fit, figure with slight curves. She has lightly tanned skin and thick, long, curly dark brown hair as well as brilliant cobalt blue eyes. Most of the time she either wears her uniform or if she's just messing around with her viper she'll wear a tank-top and some jeans. Her hair is usually in a pony-tail. -Picture:
49,390	1,334	4	1,965	2,258	Hunter Morning, I always hated mornings. Mainly because dreams were so much better it seemed. I leaned over to crawl out of bed, my prosthetic hitting the floor first. I hated the thing, it was heavy, slow, and a pain to maneuver, though it was better then having no leg. "Worst case scenario, I get a new leg." I had to look at the bright side, though that wasn't hard, this was going to be a good time. And who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky and have two new legs! I got my uniform on, the right leg was trimmed so the prosthetic would function properly. I could have gotten a new body now, but I am still working right now. I'll know when it's a decent time to start. I'm still able to beat the shit out of people, and I am still a good shot. As long as we don't run 4 minutes miles I'll be good. I arrived in the Hanger, a few others were here as well, Including Monroe. I don't remember exactly but I may have tried to use our matching last names to flirt with her once. Though I may have been drunk so I may never know. Best not to bring it up either. "Alright People! Lets go break some shit!" I was excited, I was ready to go back out into the universe. I haven't done much since my last fight, so going out was a nice thought to him.	-Full Name: Hunter Monroe (No relation to Rin Lee Monroe) -Age: 25 -Gender: Male -Rebirth: Yes -Rank / Assignment: Sergeant -Call-sign: Zombie -Personality: In basics, Hunter is a caring sarcastic smart ass. He will stand up for his friends in most cases, even if that means he himself gets hurt along the way. -History: Hunter grew up with a military family, Most of his family has seen combat in some way shape or form, So naturally when he was old enough he signed up. Though he knew from the point of joining that he was entering a long and hard war, much of his family who had joined before him were either missing or dead. After serving for a short time he has only seen combat two times, though on the second time he lost one of his legs to a grenade. He then was forced to tie off the remains of his leg and hold tight well he waited foe anyone friendly. He passed out on the second day only to wake up in a hospital. When word got out about the rebirth program he joined ASAP. He wanted to make a difference in the war, and still be able to go back home to what had remained of his family. This would also give him a chance to be able to walk again. -Skills: -Electrical Engineering -Mechanical Engineering -Close quarters combat -Navigation/Tracking -Weakness: -He tends to let his emotions take priority of a situation. -He's stubborn at times -Likes to take risky moves -Romantic Relationship: Single -Other: Hunter is always ready for a fight, he sees it as his family legend to fight his absolute hardest in any conflict no matter what. He also likes to keep good luck charms with him, they tend to vary. -Appearance: Hunter is 5'11" -Picture:
49,391	1,334	5	1,652	122	Click. The magazine slid into place. "Sighmon, Pearls, move left and secure that back entrance." I looked down and checked my SAR-21, the sound suppressor was in place. I released the mag and checked it, sliding it back in place. I clicked the release for the magazine, it was good so I slid it back in place with a shake of my head. I let the rifle drop on it's sling as I placed a small breaching charge close to the door release. 5...4...3...2...1... A small explosion sounded as the door swung inward from the blast. Two shots took out the guard that had been knocked to his knees, three shots clustered in the chest hit another guard six feet to the left. Bullets screamed by my head like hornets, as a third guard fired off a burst from across the hanger. "Shit" I yelled as I took cover behind some crates. "Where was Sighmon and Pearls?" I thought to myself. I grabbed a flash bang and tossed it over the crates. 3...2...1...Bang. I dived to the right, clearing the crates and putting five rounds across the hanger into the third guard. I kept my rifle sweeping searching for any other surprises. "Clear" I called as I picked myself up. I had spotted Sighmon and Pearls near the back door, both were bleeding out and looked dead from here. I ran over checking there wounds and cursing. They were KIA. Holding in the anguish of losing team mates I put the call in to command. "Command, Flip here. Hanger is secure. Sighmon and Pearls took fire and are KIA." There was a longer pause then there should have been and then command responded. "Roger that flip... um..do what you can, make a sweep, no one can escape. Sending in Alpha squad." I checked my rifle and mag, and went to do a sweep of the facilities. This better be f'ing worth it I said to myself. The mission should have been more simple, a few smugglers to take out, secure the Telithium shipping facilities on the outskirts of the city, which was being run by some illegal goods smugglers. We've used them to get weapons to the resistance, and now we were killing our..I guess allies was a strong word but still, all cause them A-holes needed a hanger. I cursed again, loosing two men from just three guards. I'd finished my sweep, and the small Alpha team was here. Now it was time to wait and keep this facility off the map.	-Full Name: Audo Evgeny Bobienski -Age: 28 -Gender: Male -Rebirth: Yes -Rank / Assignment: Resistance Corporal (R.A.S. Warrant officer) -Call-sign: Flip -Personality: Audo likes to think of himself as a old timey cowboy. In one way or another he's fought the evil empire of the UKD since he was 15. He lives for the pull of the trigger and adrenaline rush that is never matched out of combat. He's learned to be very good at what he does, having dozens of kills on his "Record". He's seen his fair share of death, both enemy and ally alike, and at times it pulls on his soul. But in the end, he keeps fighting cause he enjoys it, and if there is a fighter needed it might as well be him. -History: He has fought in Para-Military and Resistance Groups from a very early age. The style of combat needed to survive has left him with the talent of taking a shot and then booking it to a new hole. -Skills: Guerrilla Warfare. Long range shooting. -Weakness: Lots. < Other then lots, Can be a bit eccentric. Is not trained in "Proper" military tactics. -Romantic Relationship: Whose Available? -Other: -Appearance: Hair cut short, speckled grey. Height 5' 11'' -Picture:
49,392	1,334	6	2,083	190	Azurael Winchester I made my way to the hangar ready for the next assignment. I was tired and irritable, just like every other morning. I hated mornings with a passion and if possible I would sleep until noon just to avoid them, however my schedule wasn't always so generous. Like today. I had little to do with the others and was more commonly known by my call-sign, Nexus, rather than my actual name I assume because of how much time I spent on computers and whatnot. I yawn as I shift my duffle bag to a slightly more comfortable position.	-Full Name: Azurael Winchester -Age: 22 -Gender: Female -Rebirth: Yes -Rank / Assignment: Sargent (Comms/Sigs operator) -Call-sign: Nexus -Personality: Azurael, while generally quite pleasant, has somewhat of a bipolar temper - she can easily change from being calm and placid one moment to instensly angry the next. While she tries to work on her temper she doesn't always succeed and this has gotten her into trouble. She generally prefers the company of her Comms/Sigs equipment to humans as her equipment is a lot more predictable. She is highly intelligent but goes out of her way to hide this as she detests being in the spotlight.While she says she hates conflict and stressful enviroments - this is wrong, she thrives and some would says likes such situations. Her sense of humor is very dry and quite lacking. While she generally won't argue with orders she disagrees with, the disgruntlement will be clearly written across her face. Azurael has no skill whatsoever at hiding her emotions - her face is an open book so to say. -History: Azurael had always dreamed of a career alowing her to travel and to protect others. Coming from a poor family where options where few and far between if not impossible - the RAS was the best, and more importantly, free option. She has no issues whatsoever making the RAS a permenant thing. Her career is her life and she won't let anything, including romance, get in the way. As a child her parents worked hard and very long hours to send Azurael to school. Azurael never saw them often but didn't resent them for this - she in fact was driven to succeed because of them, and she surpassed expectations - at least academically. Her social life suffered however, and she's never really had any friends. -Skills: Azurael is great at chess, while she won't win against any grand masters she has great skill. She has won a few competitions but refuses to admit it. She is excellent with IT and communications. She has an eidetic memory and picks up information quite easily, and as a consequence is quite intelligent. Her marksmanship with rifles is exemplary. She is also quite skilled in Taekwondo. She is moderately skilled in CQC. -Weakness: While she does lack socialising skills, she isn't afraid to socialise, she will generally prefer not to. She has a horrific temper when angered and has on more than one occasion been demoted because of this. She has next to no teamwork skills. Her athletic abilities are lacking to the point she barely managed to pass (with difficulty) the entrance fitness exams. She work herself to complete exhaustion without even knowing it - so great is her work focus. -Romantic Relationship: None. Single. -Other: She hasn't used Re-birth yet, she is signed up. -Appearance: 5ft 7in tall. Azurael hides her curves with her uniform - she is only moderately curvey in any case. Her hair is long and she wears it in a tight plait which reaches down to the small of her back. She won't admit it and has never shown any-one but has tattoos which have very special meanings to her - a barbed wire tattoo running from the bottom of her neck down the spine to her tail bone, on her left shoulder is yggdrasil, and on her right shoulder is flaming skull holding a rose in it's teeth. -Picture:
49,393	1,334	7	304	2,137	Patrick Ray Clements I stood quietly in the cold morning air as I smoked a cigarette contemplating my unquestionably confusing life I watched the sun rise as I usually do each morning of every single day. I always stood there trying to recall some fact about my old life or maybe even his past life, but I can never quite recall a fact yet I remembered an odd detail or feeling. I puffed a smoke cloud into the air and looked at mu watch removing the cigarette butt quickly from my lips and stamping it out on the ground twisting my leg a bit, I listened to the crunch of the gravel beneath my shoes with pleasure. I was quite lonely most of the time only left to my own thoughts and feelings, because due to the fact that nobody truly could understand, yet to my colleagues I am just a quiet mechanic who really didn't have much to say about myself. I have never spoken to anyone about my amnesia except obviously a psychiatrist and many other doctors. I sighed and leaned against the stone wall of the hanger that I usually stood outside of in the morning to do most of my thinking. I simply looked around and wondered when the others were going to wake up and bother him or disturb the mornings tranquility, when I realized from the sound of some noise in the hanger. I quickly realized that there were some people already in the hanger and that there was somebody walking towards the hanger. I walked towards the small entrance to the hanger and stepped inside glancing at the man walking towards the hanger then quickly looking away before the man realized that he was looking at him.	Full Name: Patrick Ray Clements Age: 32 Gender: Male Rebirth: Yes Rank / Assignment: Lieutenant, and Mechanic. Call-sign: "Trigger" Personality: Quiet and somewhat introverted Patrick is an oddity, although he is pretty funny and charismatic he just doesn't like to hang out with other people or rather people he doesn't know. Patrick is caring at most times, protecting his teammates is his main objective and being a good corporal is another, he is slightly charming at times and has a dire love of writing and poetry which is a secret hobby of his. his slight amnesia is a mild form of psychosis that has developed since his rebirth although he does not know the cause he knows it had something to do with the process of the rebirth (maybe a mistake that was made). History: Although he may not recall it, he was originally a cop and a mechanic. he remembers his wife and children though and he fiercely loves them even though it has been long since he has seen them. recently his wife divorced him and now he is in a slight state of depression. he also was originally a writer for a newspaper long ago he just can't remember a whole bunch of things since his Rebirth. Skills: Weapons Specialist; Patrick is good with a lot of weapons mostly heavy weapons, assault and light weapons, he is also good at shooting. Mechanic: Patrick is a fine mechanic who can fix things like a car and other military tech. Weakness: Fear of Death, because he has an unnatural fear of death he is most often worried. his other weakness is his protectiveness, he will do what it takes to protect his friends and family. Romantic Relationship: None at the moment. Other: He likes to listen to his iPod. Appearance: Patrick is a tall and strong looking man with broad shoulders and long arms and legs, he has short brown hair and light hazel eyes.
49,394	1,334	8	613	350	Eric Fenris "Wolf" "Man, this is gonna be a rough ride," I say to myself as I rummage through my bags to make sure that everything is still there. 'Cigars, dog food, dog brush, underwear, ammo, cleaning kit, soap, cloths, cloths, more cloths.' I say in my head as I push everything around. 'Field repair kit, chew toy, ah, I knew I had it!' Smiling to my self a little lopsided as the scar on the left side of my face stretches, and pulled out a bottle of whiskey from the bag. "Ah! thought I forgot to bring you." Holding up the bottle and kissing it. A dog barks loudly behind me, causing me to turn with a bigger smile. "And of course you too, baby girl," I say with a small laugh, petting Lea's furry head, the bottle of whiskey in my prosthetic. Her tail thumping against the ground as she barked happily again. "Right then, shall we get to this bloody ship?" I ask Lea before cramming everything back in my bags and hoisting them onto my shoulder. My prosthetic arm whirring quietly as the servos and gears move to lift the bags, and grabbing my rifle with my real arm. Marching up the hanger where the transport is housed I take a look around at some of the others as they came around as well. It was a pretty big group for this mission. Lots of those Rebirth soldiers too. 'This better be some good damned information,' I think as I keep moving forward. I can see Lea following me happily out of the corner of my eye. Pausing real quick I lean my rifle against my leg and pull a half-smoked cigar from a pocket inside my jacket. Lighting it with a wood match and puffing a couple times before picking my rifle up once again. The hanger was large, as I expected, but I found the transport easily enough. Along with the big wig herself, Rin. She looked young, but she's one of them Rebirth people, so she could easily be allot older than me. Still, the pink hair is kinda cute. "Oi, Cap'n, where can I stow my lady here while we're on this boat?" I ask Rin in a loud, although muffled tone, with the cigar gripped in my teeth. My head nodding towards Lea as she looked around excited at everything.	Name: Giovanna Zetta (aka "G") Age: 62 Gender: Female Rebirth: Yes (See History) Rank/Assignment: Petty Officer Call Sign: Psycho Personality: Once upon a time a few of the phrases used to describe G were "emotionally disassociated" and "anti-social" among many clinical terms branded in her file. But any files with that information are long gone by now, as are any doctors who would had made such diagnoses. Social normalities and moral obligations escape her understanding, generally she is motivated only by self interest. At times she can be impulsive and manipulative, however she always plays the long game. She never throws out her long term desires just to serve an impulse. Usually she keeps a calm head, though she is prone to outbursts at times. Because of her self-centeredness her outbursts are usually related to seemingly unimportant things which only affect her. Her respect for those around her is directly related to her perception of their intelligence or her personal interpretation of whether or not they are worthy of her respect. Because she is unable to emotionally connect with others, she is unable to empathize, however she does have a somewhat oddly strong sense of loyalty to those whom she respects. And her commitment to the mission binds her to aiding and protecting her comrades. G has learned to portray certain emotional characteristics when she finds it to be necessary, and usually falls into a routine of subtly mimicking or mirroring those around her so that she fits into place better. Her interactions with others are usually shallow in nature, and are driven mostly by whatever she deems a necessity. When, if ever, she is engaged into a serious conversation she generally takes a quite cynical view of life. She quite despises small talk. One of her favorite means of entertainment is watching other people squirm by making them uncomfortable in any way possible. History: Most of G's past remains entirely lost to the tides of time. She knows nothing of where she came from or how she was raised prior to her 16th birthday. Everything before then is a black-hole in her memory. At 16 G was enrolled in a very small and classified experimental project in the earlier years of the development of Rebirth. The project called "Salvation" was, in short, a means to give totally delinquent members of society a chance at serving their government. The candidates were only accepted at young ages, and only those with complete loss of social ability were applied. Kids, who would have otherwise spent their lives rotting away in insane asylums, were re-engineered as soldiers. The application was carried out by first "removing" all of the subject's prior memories and conditioning them for service by enrollment into military training. The final step was to join Rebirth. The hope was that through the process of regeneration, the physical damage within their brains would be repaired and thus their personality disorders would be dissolved and they would be able to function in a normal state of being. When G was introduced she was incredibly receptive to the process and experienced impressive results, even after only partly through the process (after just the memory wipe and the military training), she was believed to have made significant improvements. Subsequently she became the only candidate to make it so far as to actually enter into the Rebirth Project. As her training continued after joining Rebirth, she was thought to be the project's one and only successful candidate. However, as more time passed, G began to manifest old behavioral traits and even experienced vague flashbacks at times. Eventually she was deemed a failure, and the entire project was shut down. It was always uncertain as to whether or not the process had worked on her at first, and then failed; or if she had simply been mimicking normal behavior so as to manipulate her superiors. Though due to the fact that she was the only candidate to make it so far into the project, it was generally accepted that the process had never truly worked at all. However, despite the total failure of the Salvation Project, G was salvaged because of her potential; her obvious improvements through the training, and her levels of intelligence and skill. When the program shut down, all of the information surrounding it was buried. Every file relating to G or her past was burned. All she had to hold onto was her name...and that wasn't real anyway. She was considered by most of her superiors to be a handful, or more work than she was worth, but she was taken under wing and trained carefully by...a man whose name even now she would claim to have long since forgotten. She was assigned a "handler" to travel with her to keep her damages to a minimum. Yet however destructive she has always seemed, her receptiveness to training and her effectiveness in accomplishing her assigned tasks is undeniable. Her commitment to the RAS is ensured by her complete and total disdain for the social and governmental constructs of the UKD. That going along with her general acceptance of her otherwise complete and total lack of purpose and reason for existence, and her personal belief in the futility of life. Basically serving the RAS serves her best interest and entertains her. Skills: G is considered by most to be somewhat of a mercenary type, because of her lack of a personal connection to her combat. She is quick on her feet and prefers improvisation over plan of attack. Usually she prefers hand-to-hand style combat, strategically taking advantage of her environment and utilizing situational objects as weapons. She is also skilled with pistols and daggers, and ironically, despite her lack of active concern for the wellbeing of anyone, she is fairly skilled as a field medic. Weaknesses: Heavy weapons and advanced machinery or technology are big weaknesses for her. Her impatience for things she doesn't already know, limits her ability to "figure it out". She is much better off being pointed towards a fight. She can be restlessness if she goes too long without set tasks or objectives to work towards, and will begin to turn her boredom towards those around her. Basically, the busier she is the better she behaves. G is a pile of weaknesses which are very much intertwined in her strengths. A situation which does not have a clear objective relating to her assignment can cause her to make hastey decisions. Because of her inability to see the grey area, instances which require an ethical decision or strong moral conviction, are usually not handled well. Although because of her strongly analytical view of things, she is unbiased in her opinions and is able to take each person as they really are, rather than as they are expected to be. Of course, that means at times she may see a bit more in others than they wish to be seen. Relationship: Other than various shallow sexual encounters, G has never been romantically involved with anyone. Although because it is a bit of a hobby of her's to toy with other's emotions, at times she will feign romantic interest in others for her own entertainment. Appearance: Sharp and strong feminine features, with "soulless" eyes which eagerly watch everything around her. G is tall and medium feminine build, though she generally carries herself (or sometimes presents herself) in a more masculine way. Her hair is dark, but she usually keeps it shaved completely.
49,395	1,334	9	2,369	211	Brain After a minute I arrived at the small group that had accumulated while I was walking over just in time to hear Sargent Fenris question, the undisciplined manner of these troops was appalling. "That's "Commander Monroe" or "Mam" Sargent Fenris and you should salute!" I stated. Let them call me a hard ass or anything else they wanted, military personnel should always show the proper respect to their superiors. Then to add weight to what I just said I turned to the commander saluted and said "Mam." Derek God I hated that feeling that I was forgetting something, I got it every time I packed for anything! It didn't matter though if I was forgetting anything I'd just have to replace it later, right now I needed to get to the hanger. So grabbing my bags and sidearm I walked out the door at a brisk pace. I made it to the hanger only slightly late and in time walk into a wall of tension coming from Lt. Commander Sharp. The the hardass probably just chewed someone out or something, he needed to get the stick out of his but and losen up some. "Okey people! I'm here now so we can get started!" I said with my most obnoxious grin, both trying to cut the tension and piss Sharp off.	-Full name: Brine Miller Sharp -Age: 72 -Gender: Male -Rebirth : Yes (2nd Gen aka the Reach program) -Rank / Assignment: RAS Lieutenant Commander / (Rin's Second in Command) -Call-sign: Tartan Chivalrous (if you don’t know what this means Google it), outgoing and jovial at most times but hardened by years of war. He speaks his mind regardless of rank or position. Always quick with a joke and ready to lend a hand. In a tight spot he’s quick on his feet to make needed changes and decisions, and isn’t afraid to make the hard calls. Unless you've already gained his trust and respect he won't blindly follow your orders without question. He still exhibits many UKD traits and is constantly trying to adapt his view point to match the RAS. Because he's still new to the RAS he can be awkward at times, unsure of what he should do or say. Despite his hatred of the UKD he still battles with the tenancy to consider himself as part of it. He started life on Hexon where his mother died in a mining accident when he was 16. His father was an exemplary solder and fine officer in the UKD and thus on active deployment at the time of his mother’s death. As soon as his father received word of what happened, he had him put in the finest of military schools. Despite a few “discrepancies” he graduated with honors and was immediately deployed to a convoy escort detail and established himself as a capable pilot and excellent tactician. He rose in the ranks quickly attaining the rank of commander in record time. One of the first to be approached for the Living project he volunteered on the spot. Years later he was also afforded the opportunity to join the latest experiment. This new program known as Reach was genetic enhancements to Living clones to give the host super human capabilities. Such as increased strength, speed, healing, stamina, and durability. The refinement process of this new program took about five years be written off as being ready for combat. Sent out on a test mission with his original squad of none Living soldiers they found themselves out numbered and out gunned and behind enemy lines. Brine put in a request for back up but it was immediately dined. His superiors considered the rest of the squad to be expendable and knew that Brine would download into a new clone if he died. After downloading he found out that all along the plain had been for them to be wiped out. There was never any chance of them being rescued. The mission was more or less them just taking their new weapon for a test run. Brine was infuriated, so much so that they had to sedate him. From that point on Brine's view of the UKD was completely changed. He saw them for the monster they are. Stealing the entire record and research information for the Reach program he destroyed the base and left for the RAS. Considered a trader because of the information he took from the UKD he was immediately cut from the Living Program. After escaping UKD territory he surrendered himself and the information he had stolen to the RAS. His only request was to be granted asylum, excepted as a RAS soldier and to be considered for the Rebirth program. Once past all the red tape that came with gaining the trust of the RAS he eventually joined Rebirth and their version of the Reach the program. -Being part of the Reach program he has increased strength, speed, reaction time, and cognative functions. Received advanced training in sabotage, heavy weapons, field repairs (jerry rigging), and piloting. Hes a capable pilot, but an excellent tactician. Because of his past assignments he is use to working behind enemy lines. Because of the genetic augmentations he has an increased metabolism and MUST eat 5 -6 times a day. Tends to over heat in warmer climates, so therefore prefers cooler temperatures. Hes still trying to adjust to his new body, often times forgetting his own strength. Sometimes he is blinded by rage over what the UKD did to his squad. -Never has taken much interest in any one woman. Maybe a fling here and there or a few one night stands but never anything serious. -He has a heavily modified UKD Tomahawk 42 (T42) heavy assault fighter which was the ship he escaped in. -Caucasian, 6’4”, muscular build, black shoulder length hair, vertical scar starting just above the left eye and ending just below it, goatee, tattoo on the left side of his upper back just below the neck. Brine Tattoo Tomahawk 42
49,396	1,334	10	2,016	1,003	Captain Brandy Carson As I enter the hanger I look around, somewhat frantically, for our ship. After a few moments I find it and make my way to the group. "Damn" I mutter to myself when I see that most everyone had already arrived. As I attempted to sneak in at the back of the group without being noticed I hear the Commander speak up. Thankfully though, she wasn't addressing me specifically. Settling into place I turn my attention to her. She didn't look happy, then again she never did. At this moment, however, she seemed especially agitated. As casually as possible I try to look and see what was causing the Commander's irritation. Commander Rin Monroe As my team assembled in the hangar I gave a few nods of recognition. When my eyes catch Raymond's I quickly look away, without being obvious. It pleases me that most have arrived on time. And thus far those who are late are only so by a few minutes. I decide to focus my attention on a more pressing matter. My annoyed gaze rests on the girl who had been speaking for one of my officers. "Last I read on her folder she's able to speak, so she'll be doing so for herself from now on." I say to the girl, then look to Giovanna. "I'm your Commander now, any management will be dealt with by me. And speak for your damn self from now on." I tell her plainly. As I look back to the "attendant" I feel myself becoming more annoyed by the situation. That the RAS would even try to control people like that, they're own soldiers at that, makes me very angry. Controlling people's every move is what we're fighting against, damnit. I haven't spent much time around Giovanna, she very well may need someone to help balance her temperament. However, this mission is to important to risk any authorization personnel. "I'll say this once, and as nicely as possible. You are dismissed, leave, don't argue. It won't do any good." I tell the girl. Her look was simply bewildered. Just as I have handled one situation, another one pops up. One that is so ironic it's nearly laughable. As I was nearly about to correct Sergeant Fenris the booming voice of Lt Commander Sharp rung out. "Thank you Sharp, that is quite enough. You can be quiet now." I say harshly. My focus once more on Eric. "I had to speak to your previous Commander but he assured me your companion was of the utmost importance and that she wouldn't be in the way. If I find that to not be the case I'll have her put in a crate or put out the air lock, don't make me have to do that." I tell him simply. A snow ball had a better chance in hell than me putting a harmless animal to death. Often I'm more fond of dogs than people, however, he needed to understand I was serious that she needed to not hinder any part of this mission.	Commander Rin Monroe -Full name: Rin Lee Monroe -Age: 80 -Gender: Female -Rebirth: Yes. She was the first official successful case in the Rebirth project. Recently had the 50 year anniversary for being in Rebirth. -Rank/Assignment: Commander -Call-sign: Valkyrie -Personality: Rin Monroe is known by her stern, commanding, cold, rough, and unforgiving personality. She is rough around the edges and harsh. Her opinion of you will generally be known and given openly with little to no care for who you are or what rank you are. If she disagrees with you, you will know it. She does though have good reason for being the way she is. Years of seeing horrible things and hundreds off Rebirths has made her jaded. Constantly getting hurt from trusting people or even just showing that she cares has made her shut off. Many consider her to be a heartless monster but in all truth she is far from it. Perhaps part of her problem is that she cares to much. Deep, deep, down she does have a more compassionate side but it's hard to find because she has built practically impenetrable walls around it. Her emotions are burred under years of untold heartache. If you can ever gain her trust it is likely that you'll never loose it. Time apart doesn't diminish her trust in a person, only their actions can change it. When she trusts and cares for someone there is little to nothing she won't do for them. Most who knew her when she was younger barely recognize her. It seems all that is left of her is anger. It isn't so much so that she doesn't have emotions anymore but that they are burred and confused. Occasionally happiness, enjoyment, and love will show through her bitter exterior but when they do it can be in strange ways. Needless to say she is a complex and confusing person, even to herself. -History: “My name is Rin Monroe. I grew up in a little village on the planet Tenish. My father was the best fighter pilot of his time in the R.A.S. When I was only three years old he gave his life to prevent a major attack on the the home planet, Shintie. He has always been and will always be regarded as a hero. I was raised by my loving mother and grandparents. When I turned sixteen I decided to follow in my father's foot steps, so I ran away from home to join the military. I went through two years of rigorous training at the academy in Vail, -the capitol of Tenish- to become a fighter pilot. Five days after my eighteenth birthday my dream came true when I was sent into battle. Little did I know of what laid ahead of me. Our mission was to protect a larger ship caring a bomb, strait through the battle field to the enemy battle ship. The mission was a success, but out of the full twenty-five of us that they sent out, I was the only one to survive. Some said it was a miracle, but my commanding officers recognized it as my unique natural ability. I quickly became known as the best pilot in the R.A.S. Years pasted and I gained many respectful honorers, one of witch was being the youngest ever to be appointed as C.A.G (Commander of the Air Group). Then one fateful day I was approached by my commanding officer and a few scientists. “Live forever”, “Never die”, ”Invincible”, ”The perfect soldier” were a few of the phrases used. They told me that I could die however many times and I would just wake up in a new body just like my old one, every time. They said it had to do with some-sort of cloning and genetic modification. I jumped on the opportunity. They took me into this lab where they pocked and prodded me. “Taking samples” is what they called it. For six months I waited to hear from them. One day two men in black coats told me to come with them, I complied. After blind-folded me they drug me off. When they removed it I was tied to a table in a dark lab surrounded by people. “We're ready to began.” one of the women said. “What does that mean?” I asked nervously. “Don't worry. It will be over soon.” she reassured me. Before I could say another word she pulled out a hand gun and shot me in the head. I saw a quick flash of memories and then felt dizzy and unsure feeling.“Am I dead?” I thought. Suddenly I notice something on my head, it felt almost like a helmet. I blinked my eyes but couldn't see anything. The thing raised off my head and I saw that I was in some kind of tube that was filled with a goopy liquid. The last thing I could remember was the woman pointing a gun at my head, a blast of pain and, then seeing the memories. “Congratulation! Your first resurrection was a success!” Said a voice from behind me. It was the head of the project, Isaac Dean. “You mean...?” I begun to say. “Yes! You my dear just faced death, and won.” He said with a smile. I couldn't believe it, I had just died, and came back. Holding out a hand he helped me out of the tube. “Welcome to the league of the invincible...” He said putting his arm around me. If only I knew how my life would change....” -Skills: An amazing pilot, has loads of experience with lots of different weapons. Skilled with guns and knifes. Has an eye like a hawk when she is in her Viper. She has an uncanny and incomparable talent at being a fighter (Specifically Viper) Pilot. Strong swimmer(She spent most her time on the beach growing up). Many would never guess it but she's a very good cook. -Weaknesses: Isn't so good with electronics, especially the more advanced stuff. While she usually knows at least kind of what she's doing they seem to just hate her. The cold bothers her. Spiders freak her out. Emotionally repressed and twisted. It's difficult for her to form personal relationship in recent years. She doesn't always look at the full picture. Once she get's an idea set in her mind it's hard for her to change it. -Romantic relationship: Currently none but has had many in the past. She doesn't openly trust and it's near to impossible to gain her trust. -Other: She lived in a small house on a hill over looking a beach. Most of her childhood was spent on the beach and in the ocean. Her love for water has never went away. She was given her middle name in honor for her father after his death. -Appearance: She stands at 5'10" with a well toned but plentifully feminine figure. Through the years and Rebirth she's gone through quite a variety of different tattoos and scars. At the moment she has very few scars and only a couple of tattoos. She has naturally pinkish-blonde hair (mostly kept in a ponytail) that is only seen in certain blood lines on Tenish and gray-blue eyes. Her look is generally cold and stern, when she was younger and happy she was often times complimented on having a beautiful smile. -Picture:
49,397	1,334	11	1,733	403	Giovanna My attendant stood in shock, blinked a couple of times as she processed the commander's harsh speech, and then her faced flushed, as red as a teenage boy getting his first handjob. Maybe that was an odd example. Good thing you didn't say it out loud then. I thought. Commander had ordered that I speak for myself from now on and officially told my babysitter to fuck off...this should be an interesting trip indeed. "Generally most people find it less than desirable when I speak for myself commander. But if speaking is what you want, speaking is what you'll have, dear." --Wait that wasn't right. "Sir." Nope. "Ma'am." I turned to my attendant and laughed rather harshly at her sustained bewilderment, without quite realizing how I had sounded. "Well then, don't be such a useless little shit now. You'll piss the commander off even more standing around like that." I bit out the words abruptly. I swore the girl was about to cry. It made me laugh again without realizing it, but within just a moment I turned to her gaze with a look of endearment and reached a hand out gently to hold the girl's soft cheek. "Just go dear." I said softly, looking deeply into her upset expression. "Don't cry." I said sweetly and I could feel her tremble a bit beneath my hand, and as she struggled to fight back stressful tears, her eyes began to shine as I spoke to her tenderly. How long had she waited for this moment? I leaned in a bit closer and peered even more deeply into her gaze, my words sliding gracefully off my lips: "You look absolutely hideous when you cry."	{ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜᴅʀᴀᴡɴ}
49,398	1,334	12	2,083	190	Azurael Winchester (Nexus) I snapped to attention tiredly when Rin arrives. I relax again after having shown proper respect. Or maybe I should have clicked my heels, some of the brass hats like that - heel clicking, clear precise drill movements. I eagerly watch the exchange between Rin, Giovanna, and Giovanna's attendant. I think I will like being on board with Giovanna. I don't think she's a Communication and Signals(Comms/Sigs) Operator like me. She'd be a riot on Comms and Sigs. Most of the others looked either like combat ready soldiers or pilots. That suited me fine. Leave me to my tech sorting through information, and I would be happy. Watching Raymonds actions to what I believe was Giovanna's comments was fascinating. Or perhaps he is just really uptight, some of the brass hats are if anything's even slightly out of kilter.	-Full Name: Azurael Winchester -Age: 22 -Gender: Female -Rebirth: Yes -Rank / Assignment: Sargent (Comms/Sigs operator) -Call-sign: Nexus -Personality: Azurael, while generally quite pleasant, has somewhat of a bipolar temper - she can easily change from being calm and placid one moment to instensly angry the next. While she tries to work on her temper she doesn't always succeed and this has gotten her into trouble. She generally prefers the company of her Comms/Sigs equipment to humans as her equipment is a lot more predictable. She is highly intelligent but goes out of her way to hide this as she detests being in the spotlight.While she says she hates conflict and stressful enviroments - this is wrong, she thrives and some would says likes such situations. Her sense of humor is very dry and quite lacking. While she generally won't argue with orders she disagrees with, the disgruntlement will be clearly written across her face. Azurael has no skill whatsoever at hiding her emotions - her face is an open book so to say. -History: Azurael had always dreamed of a career alowing her to travel and to protect others. Coming from a poor family where options where few and far between if not impossible - the RAS was the best, and more importantly, free option. She has no issues whatsoever making the RAS a permenant thing. Her career is her life and she won't let anything, including romance, get in the way. As a child her parents worked hard and very long hours to send Azurael to school. Azurael never saw them often but didn't resent them for this - she in fact was driven to succeed because of them, and she surpassed expectations - at least academically. Her social life suffered however, and she's never really had any friends. -Skills: Azurael is great at chess, while she won't win against any grand masters she has great skill. She has won a few competitions but refuses to admit it. She is excellent with IT and communications. She has an eidetic memory and picks up information quite easily, and as a consequence is quite intelligent. Her marksmanship with rifles is exemplary. She is also quite skilled in Taekwondo. She is moderately skilled in CQC. -Weakness: While she does lack socialising skills, she isn't afraid to socialise, she will generally prefer not to. She has a horrific temper when angered and has on more than one occasion been demoted because of this. She has next to no teamwork skills. Her athletic abilities are lacking to the point she barely managed to pass (with difficulty) the entrance fitness exams. She work herself to complete exhaustion without even knowing it - so great is her work focus. -Romantic Relationship: None. Single. -Other: She hasn't used Re-birth yet, she is signed up. -Appearance: 5ft 7in tall. Azurael hides her curves with her uniform - she is only moderately curvey in any case. Her hair is long and she wears it in a tight plait which reaches down to the small of her back. She won't admit it and has never shown any-one but has tattoos which have very special meanings to her - a barbed wire tattoo running from the bottom of her neck down the spine to her tail bone, on her left shoulder is yggdrasil, and on her right shoulder is flaming skull holding a rose in it's teeth. -Picture:
49,399	1,334	13	613	350	Eric Fenris "Wolf" I eyed the obnoxiously loud officer who had taken it upon himself to correct me in addressing Rin. Then to my slight surprise the Commander herself told him off a bit. Then she went to tell off another officer who thought to bring an assistant. 'Well, well, Rin here seems to have more sense about her head than most officers I've met.' I think to myself as more people arrive to the scene. Then Rin did something stupid. She threatened Lea. That is possibly the worst thing anyone could do, whether they meant it or not. It doesn't matter to me. Sighing heavily to myself I drop my bags to the floor and pinching my cigar between the fingers of my bionic prosthetic. Closing my eyes as I take a long drag. Then holding the cigar in my fake hand and blowing out the smoke in a long breath. After a small pause I reopen my eyes, lazily passing them by the stiff assed officer that tried correcting me. What was his name? Oh yea, Sharp."Look, Sir I don't give a rat's hairy ass about your rank, her rank, or even my rank. You asked for me for this mission, so unless you failed to read my dossier then you knew what you were asking for when you put me on. You need someone who's good on the ground for this mission, so you asked for me. Now seeing as that's the case how bout you try prying that bug out your ass and relax a bit. Cause frankly, being tense on a mission like this isn't going to do you any good." I say with a smirk at the end. These puckered up officers are always amusing to deal with, but they always learn that I do what I need to do, and they should be thankful for that. Now as for Commander Rin, and her comments about my Lea. I take another quick drag off my cigar before turning to Rin."Now, no offence to you personally Rin. As I already kinda like you for telling ole stiff ass over here off for me. But here's the thing." My eyes turn from a lazy stare to a serious one as I place my hand atop Lea's head. Her soft warm fur under my hand calms me a bit, but not fully. "You've spoken to my previous Commander about, Lea here, and I appreciate that, but, and I'm going out of line here, I really don't like anyone threatening her. So please," I take a quick drag from my cigar before continuing, "just remember that and you'll have no problems from me." I flash a quick smirk at the pink haired officer. "Now that the annoying bit is out of the way can we get on with this mission. I suddenly feel like killing some UKD bastards," I add. My face transforming from serious back to a lazy smirk as I put the cigar back in my mouth and pick up my bags.	Name: Giovanna Zetta (aka "G") Age: 62 Gender: Female Rebirth: Yes (See History) Rank/Assignment: Petty Officer Call Sign: Psycho Personality: Once upon a time a few of the phrases used to describe G were "emotionally disassociated" and "anti-social" among many clinical terms branded in her file. But any files with that information are long gone by now, as are any doctors who would had made such diagnoses. Social normalities and moral obligations escape her understanding, generally she is motivated only by self interest. At times she can be impulsive and manipulative, however she always plays the long game. She never throws out her long term desires just to serve an impulse. Usually she keeps a calm head, though she is prone to outbursts at times. Because of her self-centeredness her outbursts are usually related to seemingly unimportant things which only affect her. Her respect for those around her is directly related to her perception of their intelligence or her personal interpretation of whether or not they are worthy of her respect. Because she is unable to emotionally connect with others, she is unable to empathize, however she does have a somewhat oddly strong sense of loyalty to those whom she respects. And her commitment to the mission binds her to aiding and protecting her comrades. G has learned to portray certain emotional characteristics when she finds it to be necessary, and usually falls into a routine of subtly mimicking or mirroring those around her so that she fits into place better. Her interactions with others are usually shallow in nature, and are driven mostly by whatever she deems a necessity. When, if ever, she is engaged into a serious conversation she generally takes a quite cynical view of life. She quite despises small talk. One of her favorite means of entertainment is watching other people squirm by making them uncomfortable in any way possible. History: Most of G's past remains entirely lost to the tides of time. She knows nothing of where she came from or how she was raised prior to her 16th birthday. Everything before then is a black-hole in her memory. At 16 G was enrolled in a very small and classified experimental project in the earlier years of the development of Rebirth. The project called "Salvation" was, in short, a means to give totally delinquent members of society a chance at serving their government. The candidates were only accepted at young ages, and only those with complete loss of social ability were applied. Kids, who would have otherwise spent their lives rotting away in insane asylums, were re-engineered as soldiers. The application was carried out by first "removing" all of the subject's prior memories and conditioning them for service by enrollment into military training. The final step was to join Rebirth. The hope was that through the process of regeneration, the physical damage within their brains would be repaired and thus their personality disorders would be dissolved and they would be able to function in a normal state of being. When G was introduced she was incredibly receptive to the process and experienced impressive results, even after only partly through the process (after just the memory wipe and the military training), she was believed to have made significant improvements. Subsequently she became the only candidate to make it so far as to actually enter into the Rebirth Project. As her training continued after joining Rebirth, she was thought to be the project's one and only successful candidate. However, as more time passed, G began to manifest old behavioral traits and even experienced vague flashbacks at times. Eventually she was deemed a failure, and the entire project was shut down. It was always uncertain as to whether or not the process had worked on her at first, and then failed; or if she had simply been mimicking normal behavior so as to manipulate her superiors. Though due to the fact that she was the only candidate to make it so far into the project, it was generally accepted that the process had never truly worked at all. However, despite the total failure of the Salvation Project, G was salvaged because of her potential; her obvious improvements through the training, and her levels of intelligence and skill. When the program shut down, all of the information surrounding it was buried. Every file relating to G or her past was burned. All she had to hold onto was her name...and that wasn't real anyway. She was considered by most of her superiors to be a handful, or more work than she was worth, but she was taken under wing and trained carefully by...a man whose name even now she would claim to have long since forgotten. She was assigned a "handler" to travel with her to keep her damages to a minimum. Yet however destructive she has always seemed, her receptiveness to training and her effectiveness in accomplishing her assigned tasks is undeniable. Her commitment to the RAS is ensured by her complete and total disdain for the social and governmental constructs of the UKD. That going along with her general acceptance of her otherwise complete and total lack of purpose and reason for existence, and her personal belief in the futility of life. Basically serving the RAS serves her best interest and entertains her. Skills: G is considered by most to be somewhat of a mercenary type, because of her lack of a personal connection to her combat. She is quick on her feet and prefers improvisation over plan of attack. Usually she prefers hand-to-hand style combat, strategically taking advantage of her environment and utilizing situational objects as weapons. She is also skilled with pistols and daggers, and ironically, despite her lack of active concern for the wellbeing of anyone, she is fairly skilled as a field medic. Weaknesses: Heavy weapons and advanced machinery or technology are big weaknesses for her. Her impatience for things she doesn't already know, limits her ability to "figure it out". She is much better off being pointed towards a fight. She can be restlessness if she goes too long without set tasks or objectives to work towards, and will begin to turn her boredom towards those around her. Basically, the busier she is the better she behaves. G is a pile of weaknesses which are very much intertwined in her strengths. A situation which does not have a clear objective relating to her assignment can cause her to make hastey decisions. Because of her inability to see the grey area, instances which require an ethical decision or strong moral conviction, are usually not handled well. Although because of her strongly analytical view of things, she is unbiased in her opinions and is able to take each person as they really are, rather than as they are expected to be. Of course, that means at times she may see a bit more in others than they wish to be seen. Relationship: Other than various shallow sexual encounters, G has never been romantically involved with anyone. Although because it is a bit of a hobby of her's to toy with other's emotions, at times she will feign romantic interest in others for her own entertainment. Appearance: Sharp and strong feminine features, with "soulless" eyes which eagerly watch everything around her. G is tall and medium feminine build, though she generally carries herself (or sometimes presents herself) in a more masculine way. Her hair is dark, but she usually keeps it shaved completely.
49,400	1,334	14	2,083	190	Azurael Winchester (Nexus) I watch the verbal exchanges going on and quite suddenly I lose my temper. The very same thing that has gotten me demoted plenty of times. "Wolf" I snarl, using his code name. "You are disrespectful, brash, and possibly cruder than even Giovanna. Nobody needs to speak to any-one the way you just spoke." I pause, my temper has probably gotten me into trouble again, so why stop. "Threatening superiors also isn't a great idea" I add. I realise that I have gone way over line. Why, rational side of me, do you have to kick in now? I promptly apologise to Wolf, for my bad temper and for my wrongdoing. I walk straight up to Rin a salute her. After finishing my salute - I say "Ma'am, I do apologise but I accept the consequences of my actions should you wish to take this further."	-Full Name: Azurael Winchester -Age: 22 -Gender: Female -Rebirth: Yes -Rank / Assignment: Sargent (Comms/Sigs operator) -Call-sign: Nexus -Personality: Azurael, while generally quite pleasant, has somewhat of a bipolar temper - she can easily change from being calm and placid one moment to instensly angry the next. While she tries to work on her temper she doesn't always succeed and this has gotten her into trouble. She generally prefers the company of her Comms/Sigs equipment to humans as her equipment is a lot more predictable. She is highly intelligent but goes out of her way to hide this as she detests being in the spotlight.While she says she hates conflict and stressful enviroments - this is wrong, she thrives and some would says likes such situations. Her sense of humor is very dry and quite lacking. While she generally won't argue with orders she disagrees with, the disgruntlement will be clearly written across her face. Azurael has no skill whatsoever at hiding her emotions - her face is an open book so to say. -History: Azurael had always dreamed of a career alowing her to travel and to protect others. Coming from a poor family where options where few and far between if not impossible - the RAS was the best, and more importantly, free option. She has no issues whatsoever making the RAS a permenant thing. Her career is her life and she won't let anything, including romance, get in the way. As a child her parents worked hard and very long hours to send Azurael to school. Azurael never saw them often but didn't resent them for this - she in fact was driven to succeed because of them, and she surpassed expectations - at least academically. Her social life suffered however, and she's never really had any friends. -Skills: Azurael is great at chess, while she won't win against any grand masters she has great skill. She has won a few competitions but refuses to admit it. She is excellent with IT and communications. She has an eidetic memory and picks up information quite easily, and as a consequence is quite intelligent. Her marksmanship with rifles is exemplary. She is also quite skilled in Taekwondo. She is moderately skilled in CQC. -Weakness: While she does lack socialising skills, she isn't afraid to socialise, she will generally prefer not to. She has a horrific temper when angered and has on more than one occasion been demoted because of this. She has next to no teamwork skills. Her athletic abilities are lacking to the point she barely managed to pass (with difficulty) the entrance fitness exams. She work herself to complete exhaustion without even knowing it - so great is her work focus. -Romantic Relationship: None. Single. -Other: She hasn't used Re-birth yet, she is signed up. -Appearance: 5ft 7in tall. Azurael hides her curves with her uniform - she is only moderately curvey in any case. Her hair is long and she wears it in a tight plait which reaches down to the small of her back. She won't admit it and has never shown any-one but has tattoos which have very special meanings to her - a barbed wire tattoo running from the bottom of her neck down the spine to her tail bone, on her left shoulder is yggdrasil, and on her right shoulder is flaming skull holding a rose in it's teeth. -Picture:
49,401	1,334	15	304	2,137	Patrick Ray Clements I salute our commander out of respect and fear, I merely listened to what she head to say and take it like the man I am. Proper and crisp drill and excellent balance is my key ideal and it is what keeps me from losing myself, that would be very bad if that happened. I say nothing to Rin except "Mam!" in respects to her being in my presence and I say nothing more being quiet and listening to her yell and direct her attention to the others. I preferred to keep a low profile because I never like being accused or singled out of a crowd. Things are never as they seemed or that's what I think, yet I never know what might happen today or tomorrow. I approached Rin timidly and then scowled because I realize that there was an unpleasant conversation happening between a woman that he didn't know and Wolf who I had heard of before, something about threatening superiors and being worse than Giovanna. I scowled and then spoke up to the woman who had spoken about threatening superiors "Excuse me for interrupting but is there a real need to bicker about a matter of name calling and threats although you are correct and I am sorry for jumping into your conversation like this but why argue like children and call each other names?" I raised an eyebrow skeptically at the woman who I had not met before yet she was probably familiar yet I can't remember that much.	Full Name: Patrick Ray Clements Age: 32 Gender: Male Rebirth: Yes Rank / Assignment: Lieutenant, and Mechanic. Call-sign: "Trigger" Personality: Quiet and somewhat introverted Patrick is an oddity, although he is pretty funny and charismatic he just doesn't like to hang out with other people or rather people he doesn't know. Patrick is caring at most times, protecting his teammates is his main objective and being a good corporal is another, he is slightly charming at times and has a dire love of writing and poetry which is a secret hobby of his. his slight amnesia is a mild form of psychosis that has developed since his rebirth although he does not know the cause he knows it had something to do with the process of the rebirth (maybe a mistake that was made). History: Although he may not recall it, he was originally a cop and a mechanic. he remembers his wife and children though and he fiercely loves them even though it has been long since he has seen them. recently his wife divorced him and now he is in a slight state of depression. he also was originally a writer for a newspaper long ago he just can't remember a whole bunch of things since his Rebirth. Skills: Weapons Specialist; Patrick is good with a lot of weapons mostly heavy weapons, assault and light weapons, he is also good at shooting. Mechanic: Patrick is a fine mechanic who can fix things like a car and other military tech. Weakness: Fear of Death, because he has an unnatural fear of death he is most often worried. his other weakness is his protectiveness, he will do what it takes to protect his friends and family. Romantic Relationship: None at the moment. Other: He likes to listen to his iPod. Appearance: Patrick is a tall and strong looking man with broad shoulders and long arms and legs, he has short brown hair and light hazel eyes.

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