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Messages - Tally
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2421
« on: February 26, 2008, 11:48:20 am »
Pilot-to-Pilot communication, sent over the Network:
Imperial. Scheherazade and I are about 1400 miles out. Leaving our survey route to find out what happened to Providence and ascertain the condition of the Pilot. Will keep you informed.
Roman out.
2422
« on: February 26, 2008, 11:35:40 am »
An automated warning goes out through the Network, to all Pilots and Dragons simultaneously. It was triggered immediately upon the death of the Dragon Providence. Defense systems Network-wide raise their alert level.
The location: 41.56° N -93.6° W, approximately 1568 miles northeast of Haviah
The Dragon: Providence, Olympian-class, OS 7.22.03, latest model
The Pilot: Temple Rosales
Logs of Providence's activity in the network continue up to the second of death. No indication of difficulty, struggle, or danger is present and no calls for help went out prior to time of death.
The state of the Pilot is unknown at this time.
2423
« on: February 25, 2008, 11:26:41 pm »
Temple's about to get et by wolves! He's an unfortunate Pilot who's Dragon died outside of Teinar. Please to be saving him? <strike>And then please to be locking him up or he'll jeopardize the whole city?</strike> xB http://remnants.spiritsoftheearth.net/f ... .php?t=424
2424
« on: February 25, 2008, 11:21:59 pm »
The wolves stayed away. They were afraid of the Dragon.
Temple could still see them milling around at the edge of the tree line. They didn't dare come closer, but they didn't want to leave either because Providence was perched on a great jut of cliff above their water supply. It was a cloudy little pool, barely more than a puddle, but it was all they had.
From his vantage on Providence's back, Temple could see from horizon to horizon. Far below lay the pool of dirty water, and a ways beyond that squatted the pitiful remains of some abandoned outpost. Weed-choked and crumbling, it might have sheltered a few diseased rejects, but nothing important enough to warrant the attention of a Pilot. Investigations in the past hadn't turned up anything of interest.
Surrounding it all was what passed as a forest, with the gaunt, hairless wolves weaving restlessly through twisted trees. Their whining carried through the thick silence and cut at the air.
You are troubled, Providence said into his mind. You worry about things that are none of your concern.
It's not so easy to let go of, Temple said. He had his air filter mask on; it covered the lower half of his face and made physical speech difficult. He held his helmet in his lap. It's a mortal's nature to worry. Above him clouds raced by in an overcast sky, and he tried to lose his mind in the perpetual motion of it. A Pilot spent years learning to keep conscious thoughts under tight control. It felt wrong to attempt otherwise now. It felt like trying to sleep standing up. But that was partly why he was out here in the first place, so he could think about things he wouldn't dare think about while in Haviah.
They are mortal as well. And as they are mortal, so will they eventually make a fatal mistake. It is inevitable. The Dragons need only wait for these rebels to betray themselves.
And there was the problem. Temple had certain...suspicion s about certain other Pilots, but the Dragons didn't operate on suspicion or intuition. They operated on facts. They were eternal. The rebel Pilots were to them as insects were to humans—only something to be concerned about when and if they made themselves an obvious nuisance.
Until then, Temple would indulge his suspicions. The no man's land between mortal inference and mechanical fact got him lost every time. He sighed and tried to let his mind wander with the clouds.
And that's when Providence died.
It was like going blind. It was like the sun going out and taking all light away forever. He reeled. It all happened in an instant, a wave of electromagnetic energy rushing over him and in the same moment Providence was gone. His mind clawed for that vast, cold consciousness and found nothing.
And they were falling. Limp, Providence toppled from the cliff. The world spun, Temple grasped at the harness, at the Dragon, at thin air. His mouth screamed wordlessly and his mind screamed Providence! ProvidenceProvidenc ePROVIDENCE!!
An impact, and then blackness.
The pain in his head brought him back. Stabbing, shooting, knifing through him. Racing clouds filled his vision, but it was all black around the edges. His whole body hurt. Ah, he was wet. Was it blood or water? Didn't matter. Providence. Providence mattered.
"P...Pr..." His mouth, it felt thick and full of cotton. It didn't want to work right. Move, he had to move, to get to Providence. He shifted, dragging himself, pulling and pushing and trying to work limbs that felt feathery and light. One hand found his Dragon's neck and he hauled himself close, moaning as the motion sent a fresh wave of agony rippling along his nerves. In his head a mantra went out, pleading, seeking: Wake up wake up Providence, say something. Say something say something, come back Providence, come back now please come back Providence Providence Providence.
A low growl came from somewhere. Through darkening, blotchy vision he glimpsed slim forms ghosting back and forth across his line of sight. The wolves paced, losing their fear swiftly, the smell of healthy, bloody flesh working them into a frenzy. But it would be okay. He would be okay because Providence...Provid ence was a Dragon, and Dragons didn't die. Dragons were eternal.
"Wh...where are you," he murmured, pressing his face against the metal plate of Providence's neck.
2425
« on: February 25, 2008, 08:10:53 pm »
 Nathaniel Beaumont; Spaceship Captain[/size]"Uh, you're not gonna electrocute me if you shake my hand, are you?" ~Nathan, asking the important questionsFrom all the drugs the one I like more is music
From all the junks the one I need more is music
From all the boys the one I take home is music
From all the ladies the one I kiss is music (muah!)
Music is my boyfriend
Music is my girlfriend
Music is my dead end
Music's my imaginary friend
Music is my brother
Music is my great-grand-daughter
Music is my sister
Music is my favorite mistress
~Cansei De Ser Sexy: Music Is My Hot, Hot Sex[/size][/center:c484nt38] Current Threads:How much for the puppy in the window?Connected[right:c484nt38] Completed Threads:Negative.[/right:c484nt38] __________________IDENTIFY YOURSELF[/size]Name:Nathaniel Beaumont NicknamesNathan Gender:Male Species: Human Age:24 Height 5'4" Home:Blackjack DivaRank:Captain THE REAL YOU________________ __[/size][/right:c484nt38] Appearance: Brown eyes, light brown hair that's not very short but not very long. Short and slender of build, but a well-toned body with a surprising wiry strength. He strength trains regularly. Has a faint scar along his left temple that is pretty hard to see and is usually covered by his hair anyway. Looks younger than he really is. Unremarkable, plain. Personality: Cynical, always expecting the worst especially when things are going well. Still a friendly guy in spite of that. Has a good head for bargaining and dealing. Calm under crisis. Likes to flirt with girls, though it never seems to get him anywhere. History:He won his ship in a game of blackjack, and since he loves music he named her Blackjack Diva. Abilities:He's a pretty good shot with his guns and is excellent at hand-to-hand combat. Likes:Music (especially jazz), games of chance Dislikes:Wins the RotE award for:The Father of RotE. I joined him on SotE and subsequently whined to Rhi about there being no sci-fi equivalent to our groovy fantasy game. And here we are! Additional Pictures:Commentary:I call Roman my first character on RotE, but he's just my first joined character. Nathan was around before that, and he's what started this whole RotE thing in the first place. :3
2426
« on: February 25, 2008, 08:09:53 pm »
 Temple Rosales, Pilot Echo[/size]"It's a mortal's nature to worry." ~his last words to Providencestones taught me to fly
love taught me to lie
life taught me to die
so its not hard to fall
when you float like a cannon..
stones taught me to fly
love taught me to cry
so come on courage, teach me to be shy
'cos its not hard to fall
when you float like a cannonball
~Damien Rice: Cannonball[/size][/center:1zsf3m3e] Current Threads:A Pilot in Teinar[right:1zsf3m3e] Completed Threads:Providence__________________JUST BECAUSE I'M LOSING[/size]Name:Temple Rosales Gender:Male Species: Human Age:26 Height 5'8" Home:The Citadel, Haviah, Aedolis Rank: Pilot Echo DOESN'T MEAN I'VE LOST_______________ ___[/size]Appearance: Inky black hair, with right side usually hanging free and left side tucked behind his ear. Arresting violet eyes. Slender, elegant. Delicate features. Personality:Grumpy. Angry-arrogant in the way of people who are insecure. He's always been bitter toward his older half brother, Roman. It hurts his pride that Roman is so much weaker than he in psychic power and from a lower caste and yet so much higher than him in rank. He takes his responsibilities as a Pilot very seriously. Strengths:Above average in the strength of his psychic power... Weaknesses:...but below average in his ability to control it. History:His family life was quite happy and well-adjusted until Roman showed up, the result of a long-term affair his father had with a low caste stripper. He hated Roman from the start, looked down on him for being both a bastard and of lower caste, but more than anything it burned him how dismissive Roman has always been towards him. He was thrilled when his own psychic powers manifested and he was able to follow Roman into the Pilot ranks, but that feeling of triumph didn't last long. He struggled throughout the whole of the training and barely passed. Likes:Gabriel Dislikes:Roman, pretty much everyone else too Wins the RotE award for:Additional Pictures:Commentary:He wasn't originally going to be Roman's brother, but I liked the last name Rosales so much, I gave it to both of them. :B
2427
« on: February 25, 2008, 08:08:34 pm »
 Roman Rosales, Pilot Royal[/size].pic1. .pic2. .pic3. .pic4."Maybe next time I tell you to clean the spoon, you'll clean the spoon." — discussing important matters of stateDoes it kill
Does it burn
Is it painful to learn
That it's me that has all the control
Does it thrill
Does it sting
When you feel what I bring
And you wish that you had me to hold
~Maroon 5: Harder to Breathe[/size] Selective Obliviousness . Blue Eyes[/size][/center:vtz3zuq4] Current Threads:Time stays, we goout of reach, out of timeMovie night!Just a little bit of target practiceWho's Watching?we would love not to careWho wants some pie?!CrippledYou're Going Down When I Get Up[right:vtz3zuq4] Completed Threads:Pilot Candidate FestivalProvidence[/right:vtz3zuq4] __________________HOLD MY HEAD INSIDE YOUR HANDS[/size]Name:Roman Rosales NicknamesRomance (courtesy of Wulf), Romanator, Romalicious, Romy, Roro Gender:Male Species: Human Age:36 Height 6'1" Home:The Citadel, Haviah, Aedolis Rank: Pilot Royal [dragon Scheherazade] Director of Candidate Affairs I NEED SOMEONE WHO UNDERSTANDS________ __________[/size]Appearance: Inky black short hair, generally looks a little haggard, like he hasn't slept in days or is under a lot of stress. Fastidiously clean. Tall and with a solid build. Really intense blue eyes. He's cut, too; doesn't skip the gym. Often out of uniform. Typically wears blue jeans, sneakers, and a white t-shirt. Sometimes wears a white collared shirt—usually left unbuttoned—over the t-shirt. Personality:He slips easily into whatever role he needs to fill. He can be ruthless, threatening, comforting, kind...whatever he needs to be to hep his candidates succeed. When not on the job, however, he's friendly and laid-back, generally on good terms with everyone. Doesn't hold grudges. Quick to anger but equally as quick to let things go. Often finds it hard to stop being a teacher, however, and sometimes catches himself lecturing his old students even after they've become Pilots. Remains protective of them no matter how many years go by. Nothing makes him happier than seeing students he has personally mentored become excellent Pilots. Is not a sadist, despite what some disgruntled candidates may say. He does what he has to to get the job done. Would never hurt someone just to hurt them. Has a reputation as a player, and this was accurate in the past. He slept his way through many of his fellow candidates during his training years, and for a long time after becoming a Pilot he treated the candidate pool as his own personal brothel. These habits have died down over the years, due in large part to more and more responsibility taking up his time. These days he's always working and rarely has time for anything else, including his old recreational activities. History:He is the result of an affair between a married man and a low caste stripper and prostitute. His half brother is Temple Rosales, whom he has never paid much attention to one way or the other, despite Temple's fervent hatred for him. The disgust of his father's family never bothered him, as he knew from a very young age that he was psychic, that he would be a Pilot, and that Pilots transcended all castes. A severe and humorless child, it was the Pilot training program that loosened him up and created the amicable, laid-back person he is now. He completed the training with a focus and determination that bordered on obsession. Scheherazade, his dragon, is a smaller, older model. They are well suited, for she too is a creature of subtlety and calculation. He rose through the ranks fast because of an uncanny ability to read people that has nothing to do with psychic power. After Elijah Lyre disappeared he was up for the Imperial position, but Royal is all he ever aspired to. Being Imperial comes with headaches he doesn't want to deal with, and Scheherazade herself has no desire for the position either. These days he spends most of his time training Pilot candidates and overseeing conflict-resolution within Haviah—i.e., throwing down on dissidents, which he gets a real kick out of. When he is dispatched elsewhere, it is usually as a diplomat or liaison or spy. He was strictly black ops in the war. Abilities:His psychic power is quite weak, but he does have an intuitive understanding and control over the vagaries of thought. The subtleties he is capable of make him especially treacherous to other psychics, as he has an arsenal of nasty tricks, deceptions, and deflections all designed to him get him into hand-to-hand range where he has the greater advantage. He excels at hand-to-hand combat. Since he cannot rely on his psionic abilities for direct combat, he had to develop these tricks to compensate. Worst of all for other psychics is that they are largely improvisations and personal techniques that he rigged himself, not tactics that psychics would have encountered in training or be able to anticipate. Relationships:- Gabriel Tierney - Roman was Gabriel's mentor and saw him through his candidacy, which was marked by a whole lot of yelling and headdesking on Roman's part. Gabriel was and still is one of the few people who can draw Roman into a shouting match. At some point when Roman wasn't looking, he and Gabriel made the transition from teacher and student to friends. Teasing Gabriel is something of a hobby at this point, but Roman is actually very protective of him and values him as a friend. Thinks Gabriel's fashion sense is atrocious. Gabriel still tries his patience on a daily basis, but Roman wouldn't have it any other way.
- Temple Rosales - Roman's half brother. They share the same father. For all the years they've known each other, they've gone out of their way to ignore one another. This is especially true of Roman, who has been dismissive toward Temple ever since they were children. They have not said a word to each other, spoken or otherwise, for over five years.
Likes:Being a dick, teaching, Aedolis, Gabriel, Seiteki, Bart, most of the other Pilots Dislikes:Edanith, dissidents Wins the RotE award for:Most outstanding use of a sledgehammer. Commentary: Most notable distinction: my very first character on RotE. Came to my mind almost fully formed, complete with first name, and the rest all fell into place on its own. One of the easiest characters I've ever had to develop. He pretty much wrote himself.
2428
« on: February 25, 2008, 08:03:53 pm »
Name: Temple Rosales
Gender: Male
Species: human
Location: Aedolis
Desired rank: Pilot Zero
everything else will be in his profile :p
2429
« on: February 23, 2008, 02:38:17 pm »
Ooh, I thought of a character! I'll post him tonight or tomorrow. :3
2430
« on: February 21, 2008, 07:05:54 pm »
I think one of the main perks to the usergroup thing we saw was it negates the need to join Gospels at the ranks page at all.
And that the Gospel accounts become like untraceable accounts on the Network itself. It seemed like a neat immersive thing.
2431
« on: February 21, 2008, 04:09:09 pm »
I updated the ship info (changed the name and added some possible crew positions.) Not limited to those positions, those are just the ones I could think of.
Choco, Chaosnightmare, jump in anytime if ya still want on the crew/passengers, or if the thread's too crowded you can always make another one on Cancer and I'll make sure Nathan finds your characters. :3
2432
« on: February 21, 2008, 03:59:50 pm »
“C...Crotch fires?� That...was not what he'd expected to hear. He wasn't exactly sure what the old man was talking about, and he looked around the bar for signs of some poor guy with his pants ablaze, but everything seemed status quo. No smoke, no frantic screaming men. Just business as normal, save for the invisible circle around them past which no one dared step if they wanted to avoid the smell. Maybe the geezer was senile?
“Oh, uh, me?� he said, laughing a little nervously and scratching his head. Could this guy really set him on fire or was that just the crazy talking? Better to be safe. This was Cancer. “No thanks, I'm good. I'll take your word for it.�
The fluorescent woman he'd seen before stepped into the cloud of stench surrounding them, and she had that look about her. That business look. Plus the old guy was on the floor and cackling at that point and the gods only knew when he'd come to his senses again. It drew attention, and soon the three of them were the focus of multiple pairs of eyes.
“Kazzt,� he said, repeating her name to commit it to his memory. He held his hand out. “Nathaniel Beaumont. You can call me Nathan if you want.� Now she was closer, he could get a better look at her, get a reading deeper than the brief impression he'd taken before. Her voice sounded electric; she was a living light source. “Uh, you're not gonna electrocute me if you shake my hand, are you?� His smile was boyish; he knew it made him look naïve and guileless and encouraged that impression whenever possible.
Even with the old man's laughter in his ear and this distracting, luminous creature before him, he still kept his finger on the pulse of the bar. So he noticed the girl in the green pants glance Kazzt's way, and when she did he made sure to catch her eye and give her a wink, and he was aware of the exchange between her and the woman with the furry ears and tail.
“I'm taking on crew and passengers,� he said to Kazzt. “Diva's a starjumper. Mostly she makes exploration runs on commission from Libra, but we also do our share shuttling passengers and light cargo.� His glass was empty; he signaled for another. “So, how about you tell me what you can do and I'll tell you what I need.�
2433
« on: February 19, 2008, 11:17:10 am »
Oooh, I might post Roman there! And if not him, I'll make another military person to hang out with Nicolai. :3
2434
« on: February 16, 2008, 02:06:42 am »
Like a herald, the odor preceded the old man. People hovering near the doorway shied away. From his vantage Nathan got a good look at the old guy and he had to turn his head away and suppress a smile with a long sip at his Screwdriver.
And in looking away, his attention was arrested by two women at the bar. One had a tail, and he was immediately jealous, because that seemed like a cool thing to have. And his ears were plain old human ears, whereas hers were...cat? Dog? He wasn't sure.
The other woman was even weirder. Strange ears and tails he'd seen before, but he'd never seen any creature with skin like that. His eyes followed the mesmerizing shift of colors across the exposed areas of her body. She was human shaped but certainly not human and not of any species he'd ever seen or even read about. It made him intensely curious, but hesitant as well.
Ah! She was buying her own drink? And the woman with the tail was drinking...was that water? That just wasn't right. What was the universe coming to when ladies such as these had to pay for their own drinks? Someone had to fix this immediately, so Nathan called the chief over and a few quiet words and a little extra cash later, each lady had a Cosmopolitan set down before her on the bar.
“From the girly lad down the bar,� the chief said, jerking his bald head in that direction. His voice was like sandpaper on concrete, his expression perpetually unimpressed. “He'd be the Nathan you're looking for.�
Nathan's attention—not exactly being known for its intense focus—had already drifted back to the giggling old man. He just had to ask, even if butting into others' business was never a good idea in places like this. Hopefully curiosity wouldn't kill the cat. “What's funny?� he asked.
Among all the...ah, interesting people starting to fill the place up, Nathan was almost conspicuous in his normalcy. His hair was a natural color, not remarkably short nor remarkably long. His cloths were broken-in brown synthetic leathers. They were the clothes of a man who worked for a living. He was in his mid twenties but looked younger, and he wasn't terribly masculine nor all that feminine either. Altogether unmemorable, really. It was a talent of his that he could be right in the middle of something yet blend into the background of it at the same time.
And, for those times when he did attract unwanted attention and couldn't talk his way out of it, there were the two well-used and well-cared for sidearms holstered at his thighs.
2435
« on: February 13, 2008, 12:20:21 am »
HI! *waves*
CHOMPCHOMPCHOMP
2436
« on: February 12, 2008, 11:15:51 am »
Sounds fun! Toss him in. xD
2437
« on: February 12, 2008, 01:09:05 am »
BLACKJACK DIVAClass:Swift Model:Starjumper Allegiance:Independent Description:Diva is a small ship, sleek and black. She's built for evasion, stealth, and speed. As a starjumper, she's designed to make frequent and vast jumps between systems on a regular basis. A very mobile and agile ship. Crew:This here's a list of some positions available on the ship, but these aren't the only options! Characters could serve other purposes besides what are listed here. :3 Captain:Nathaniel BeaumontFirst Mate:Open! Pilot:Open! Weapons Specialist:Willow FaylinnMechanic:Nikephoros BellamyMedic:Open! PM or post here to join the crew! <3 Post here for plotting as well!
2438
« on: February 12, 2008, 01:04:21 am »
I've got an open thread here: http://remnants.spiritsoftheearth.net/f ... .php?t=399Nathan looking for crew, passengers, or just someone to interact with. You can join new crew, or have your character be an established crew member on his ship already. Either way is cool with me.
2439
« on: February 12, 2008, 12:51:11 am »
Ah, Cancer. His home away from Diva.
The noise and life of the Red District pulled at him like gravity and he went directly there after docking. The crowds soothed him, strange as that might be. The pulse and rhythm of the collective made him feel a part of something bigger than himself, like a cel of some vast organism. He insinuated himself into the throng, nodding here and there to people he recognized, peering through shop windows at the wares therein, smiling boyishly and winking at pretty women who caught his eye.
It was a familiar path he traced to a cantina called Spades. As reputable an establishment as one was likely to find on Cancer, it was half bar, half business place. Good for connecting captains with crew or clients. Rough jazz played over the speakers, soft enough to make conversation easy, and the lighting was subdued. Nathan flashed a smile at the barkeep and palmed some money down. "What's up, chief? Give me something on the rocks."
One side of the chief's mouth hitched up under his mustache in what might have been a smile. Regulars around here called him the chief, but no one was left who remembered why. The man had been here that long. "Beaumont," he said, pulling out vodka and orange juice for a Screwdriver. "You looking for crew?"
"Crew, passengers, whatever I can find." Nathan slid some extra coin across the counter. "Pass the word around, will you?" Money was the truest dialogue in Spades; his money would get Blackbird's name around to whoever might be looking for a starjumper.
No rush, though. This was was an extended visit and he'd be staying in the Blue District for a few days yet. Nathan settled onto a bar stool, turning around and resting his elbows on the countertop so he could watch the room and catch conversation. The bar was alive with gossip and business deals and laughter and for the moment he was a part of it all—connected.
2440
« on: February 09, 2008, 11:08:51 pm »
Brace yourselves. This was my (sigh) first anime picture ever.  -background is like...paintshop pro tube brushes or something -the bracelet. It's made of yellow square pixels? Guess so. -talk about white as driven snow -looks like someone punched him in the face -no clothes why? -that angle on his right shoulder could cut paper -[strike:2qeyv9qb]just when did Kirshna have silver hair?[/strike:2qeyv9qb] Rhi, you're a freak. Here is what I do now:   They're not perfect, but at least you won't have a stroke trying to figure out just what the hell I was thinking. xD
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