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Topics - Daglobster
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1
« on: November 18, 2019, 12:05:23 am »
Torien's vision whipped about as he felt his back slam the steel and concrete barrier that surrounded the ten foot diameter circle that made up the center ring of Cancer's Stern Club, something of a hangout for pirates and gangers who'd made it big enough to enjoy some of the finest pleasures in life. He didn't know much else about the place other than it was run by goblins, didn't really have time to ask.
His opponent stepped back and slammed him against the wall again, and he could feel the studs digging through his flesh, but none of the hot pain or running warmth of his streaming blood, just faint echoes of it.
"Come on, kill him!" came the brute's manager, and someone from the crowd above threw down an empty beer bottle in protest, which shattered on the arena floor. Torien yelled and slammed his spiked elbow into his opponents back, and when the man reared up he balled up one of his cybernetic hands until he could feel the joints creaked and his knuckle studs stick out. The sound of metal on metal announced the blow and the assailant staggered back into the spotlights.
The man had metallic studs on his head and a massive, cybernetic jaw. He swayed a bit on his enhanced legs but came rocketing back in, swinging the circular saw that used to be his left hand. Torien just barely stepped back in time to feel it skim across his chest, slicing the skin but revealing gleaming metal beneath it.
Cut down to the bone, damn near, and he didn't feel a lick of it, just the cold air against his now exposed flesh. He sprung right in before his opponent could recover, rocketing another punch into his side while he cocked the other back. Mechanisms clicked and reverse-oriented spurs came out of the sides of his forearms and when his opponent came in for a backswing his adrenaline spiked and his accelerated reflexes kicked online.
The crowd watched as he flowed around his opponent's strike and swung an arm to catch him in the face with the spurs. Face bloodied and gouged, the man stumbled to the side, and Torien grabbed him by one of his metal studs and gave him an uppercut. He pulled him back down and when the man grabbed at his arms to try and free himself, Torien rooted himself to the spot and slammed his plated knee into his face.
The man fell back, catching himself on the wide mesh but otherwise barely able to stand.
Everyone cheered, and when Torien looked up to see what his handler's instructions were, he found him absent. Looking back down to the man he was fighting, he took a moment to study the look in his eye before he raised an arm and punched him square in the face, finally knocking him out.
The crowd peaked and a scratchy voice came fromthe speakers above.
"An' DAT'S IT folks! Chrome Warrior takes tha brackets! I 'aven't seen an upset like this since the days'a Skinner Pete!"
There was more, of course, but the promise of being able to leave that small pit took up his full attention. He tuned out the crowd and announcer as the floor lowered and he was delivered to the "backstage" spaces, so to speak.
Stern Club was a brand new venue for him, so he was thankful for the two armed goblins who took him to the arena's chop shop, half engineering bay and triage ward. The place smelled like gas fumes and blood but he couldn't complain about the treatment.
The doctor, a scraggy hobgoblin who definitely didn't have a medical degree, made it a point to confirm his augmentations with him, a process that took a while as there wasn't quite much of him left after he'd been augmented.
Most of his body was either enhanced or replaced (89%, by his last measurement), and while he was proud to show off his chrome beneath the knees and past the elbows (as that where most of his weaponry was anyways) the rest was covered in living tissue that gave the appearance of life, save for his head which sported two lines of exposed chrome that outlined his squat mohawk and framed his synthetic eyes. And then he had to point out the pain regulator in his brainstem, how that system was wired all the way down to the spine and integrated with his adrenal booster and delimiting device.
Upon spotting the delimiter, the "doctor" raised an eyebrow, but when you worked in illegal bloodsports it was more of a curiosity than anything else.
Anyways, he was just grateful for a synthskin regrowth treatment and the free morphine, and even though he looked pretty grievously wounded it was mostly his "outer layer", so he wasn't worried. And with the bandages and grafts done, he just kind of looked like a recently wounded warrior.
What did have him worried was his handler bursting into the room. Madrissa hadn't owned him for that long a time, she was nearing her fourth week with him, but he'd never seen her as skeeved out as she looked at that very moment. A blur of brown hair and candy red clothing approached them and she shooed the doctor away.
"He's done now, we're leaving," she said, and despite Torien's sour look she quickly pulled him out of the room.
"We got to get out of here. You just won me a fat payout but we've gotta survive to collect it," she said as they started down a hallway. Torien knew better than to question, and he could see the honest terror in her eyes.
"Fucking Anklehackers," she continued.
"They tried to buy you but I ditched them. I got the winnings check though and you won't have to fight for just about two weeks."
She led him down a hallway and started slicing into a door that led into one of the club's storage areas. Another door further down the way opened, and the sound of goblinish syllables being barked out spurred Madrissa to work faster. She got the door opened and motioned him through.
"I'll be back, don't go anywhere. I'll be rich, eh? So I'll treat you right, no reason to run off," she said, and patted the regulator control on her waist with a smirk. Torien wanted to say something but she closed the door and he could hear her making a break for it.
Yeah, he was gonna get out of here. And so he turned about and glanced around this room, which seemed to hold display items that weren't being displayed at the moment, either covered in tarps or locked away behind plasteel walls or cabinets.
So he started down his own way and moved down deeper into the room, hoping to find a vent or some other way out.
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« on: November 11, 2019, 08:27:10 pm »
High over Edanith, the OS-47 Pumping Station floated, shining metal contrasted by the planet's rusty red and green spots.. It was a vaguely cigar shaped station, with two bays with automated fuel umbilicals mounted on the side. A squat ridge that ran along the top served as the top of the crew area while the bottom bulged with internal fuel tanks. The station was large enough to be crewed by about six (with automated support).
It also looked a little run-down, and well... it was off the regular grid, but that just made it more discreet! Discretion that had to have been valued by somebody, because soon enough there was a ship closing in. A small scout vessel, crew no more than ten, slipped in from the void and made for a quick docking procedure.
"Excellent," said Dr. Dawaski, standing in the vessel's cockpit and viewing the incoming station. Dawaski was a russet-haired dwarf with olive-colored skin, notably aged even for one of his kind. he wore a sturdy spacer's jumpsuit with a zipped-tight jacket with the words "Star Gazers" emblazoned on the back.
"While you're at it, get a message out to our buyer on Edanith. Tell him the expedition was a success and we've got his package and more, so he better get his fat wallet ready," he said, and returned to the crew compartment of the Blue Comet, which was the only other room save for the two bunk cabins tht gave the ship it's distinctive " T " Shape. The other members of the Archeoxenological expedition were mulling about, collecting data on what appeared to be a swirling black mass contained in a giant, man-sized crystal, held suspended by electromagnets. The room held other curiosities, old-earth artifacts and the like. Some old and some truly ancient.
Dawaski approached Dav, the scientist currently monitoring the apparatus, and was about to speak when the ship lurched just a bit as it docked with the station.
"How is it?"
"Stable, Dr. Dawaski. Activity levels have been steadily dropping ever since we took it away from Aedolis. A few more days like this and I'd definitely clear it as inactive," he said, and Dawaski smiled.
"Excellent. Nothing could go wrong now."
3
« on: October 08, 2019, 10:46:54 pm »
__________________QUICK STATSName: Saendyr Phylips Age: 27 Gender: Male Species: Crossbreed between a human and an Altani, a race hailing from the galactic edge. Ethnicity: Born in Altani space but raised mostly on the Edanith frontier. Height: 6'5" Occupation: Asset Recovery and Containment contractor under TRIM. Residence: His hometown and family residence is on Edanith but currently he lives in-house at TRIM. __________________IN-DEPTH STUFFPhysical Description Despite being a halfway cross, Saendyr looks much more like an Altani than he does a human. To begin with, he sports hairless, smooth dark blue skin thicker and tougher than normal. Instead of hair, he sports five rows of short, porous crests that follow the shape of his skull until it meets the neck and he has pronounced, bony ridges over his eyes and on his jaw. His eyes are human looking but rather than black he sports yellow pupils surrounded by dark brown eyes.
Like his skin, his physiology is equally dense. Not that he bulges with muscles like a bodybuilder, but he has smooth, defined limbs and a brawny, wide frame that supports a build that is sturdier than it is strong.
He used to have more bony protrusions on his arms, legs, and hands but he had them shaved down to plates so he could fit in conventional armor.
His most distinctive anatomical feature is his legs. While he has a human waist and upper thigh, at about the center of his thigh human legs give way to rough, shinier skin with circular impressions and digitigrade legs that end in a trio of claws that he walks on, able to pivot them like toes and even stand up on the tips to navigate rougher terrain.
Personality Saendyr does not play any games when it comes to his paycheck. He can tolerate a moderate amount of BS (in his line of work, it's a mandatory skill) but he has no patience for two-timers or rats, or anybody else who would waste his time, really. In the grand cosmic scale of things, Saendyr is someone who's sticking it out for themselves rather than for the good of society, or the galaxy, but that doesn't necessarily mean he is evil.
He does what he does because it's what he knows, what he's good at. The more in-bed he gets with TRIM, the safer he is from them discovering that he's got properties and abilities that they'd prefer to study rather than give a paycheck to. Does that make him a hypocrite? Maybe a little. But he doesn't give a damn if people think he's a hypocrite because he doesn't do it for them. It keeps him alive and comfortable, and means he can keep sending money to his parents. So maybe the emotional distress is just a small price to pay...
Skills and Abilities Sendyr is no stranger to combat. He has seen a couple tours of duty under the Edanian military, fighting against Aedolis military in the contested planets in the outer solar system. When it comes to the usage of standard rifle armaments like lasers and slug-throwers, as well as heavier man-portable weapons, Saendyr is a professional. Military training built upon by fierce combat experience has led to a fighter that takes every advantage he can get, and he's fought through enough scrapes to remain cool under life and death conditions. Add a little bit of mercenary work when he got out, and one could say that Saendyr was made for his next job.
Containing and Recovering assets for an organization as shady as TRIM means that one often experiences bizarre, experimental threats or hostile fugitives, sometimes even one of TRIM's genetic abominations. Nothing can surprise poor Saendyr anymore and he's acquired a jaded quality to his personality to go with his expanded knowledge.
There is also the issue of his racial traits. Altani are a race of synthetically evolved bipedal humanoids that long-outlived their creators, mostly because they were evolved to be extremely durable in almost any conditions, true extremophiles. Their body structure is designed to diffuse energy throughout itself and a pure-bred Altani can even function in the vacuum of space for several hours. While Saendyr is a cross breed and unfortunately cannot survive in a vacuum, he retains the durable body structure and absorption potential while being able to do other neat things an Altani can't like see in color or appreciate a hot shower. Equipment/Vehicle As any good freelance soldiers do, Saendyr has access to his own equipment, but his arsenal is bolstered by some gadgets and tools from TRIM.
His primary form of protection from those who'd do him harm is a suit of rigid-plated combat armor with a laser dampening weave and a thermal bodysuit underneath.The helmet's visor is a half-dome that resembles primitive astronaut suits but the neck is much more flexible, allowing Saendyr a wide range of view and plenty of visor space for displaying readouts from the enhanced suit sensors. The only other drastic modification is that the legs are redesigned for a digitigrade user and the boots are separated into three seperately articulated toes to allow him full movement of his Altani feet and legs. Depending on the environment, Saendyr will use additional layers of hazard protection or a back-mounted zero-g maneuvering unit.
As for weapons, Saendyr prefers non-lethal methods not just for personal reasons but also for mission requirements. It is for this reason he has chosen a solid projectile weapon over a laser.
About the size of a modern infantry machine gun, the AX-47 Maxwell sports an integrated smart-aim system (linked to helmet display) and Saendyr loads it with "smart cartridge" drum magazines that allow him to switch from tranquilizers to stick-and-shock or sandbag munitions with a flick of a finger.
Alongside flashbangs, sonic shriek emitters, and mage-fuddlers (disorientation grenades designed to interfere with a mage or psion's internal focus), Saendyr also carries two sidearms, a wrist-mounted stun-pulser tuned for motor-function impairment and a variable laser pistol that could be adjusted to fire anywhere between "less-than-lethal" and "burn a hole through your chest". Relationships Saendyr maintains healthy work relationships at TRIM, and even has a few friends on the ARC team that he regularly hangs out with. He has very few permanent fixtures in his life save for his parents and doesn't feel right settling down with anybody as long as he's working such a hazardous job. History [[WIP, but his mother was a deep-space prospector who ran into an isolated population of Altani and fell in love with one of them. Saendry was "born" when his parents decided to visit a geneticist to create a child, since Humans and Altani cannot naturally interbreed. He was ostracized as a child and turned to the military, which led to him going down a mercenary's path and eventually led him to TRIM.] __________________THREAD TRACKERCurrent ThreadsComplete Threads
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« on: October 04, 2019, 09:14:50 pm »
Kayse flicked his cigarette away from himself, watching intently as it sailed across the coffee table and missed his ashtray by a few inches. "Spit!" he yelled, and scrambled up off his couch to grab it before it lit up his synthfiber rug. He blew some of his messy long hair out of his eyes and glanced around the room. It'd been an absolute bender of a weekend and it showed on his apartment. The period after the payment for a job well done was always spent partying it up but the past couple of days had been particularly wild. His apartment looked like he'd hosted a couple get togethers and one full on party. Empty and open bottles sat on the counter and table, the ashtray was full of cigarette butts and roach ends , and the whole place smelled like the inbred child of a cigar lounge and a dive bar. The flatvid screen on his wall was playing a documentary Kayse had tuned into halfway through, something about an exploration of galactic sea life But it was home. Kayse dusted some crumbs off his grey sweatpants and tucked his hair properly behind his long, pointed ears. He took another drag before dropping it in the ashtray. He'd only been awake for an hour or so but it was already two in the afternoon, according to the holographic clock in his small kitchen. He yawned, and with a flick of his cybernetic fingers the program paused and the flatvid screen started playing slow and rezzy synthetic music instead. "Today Kayse, we're taking it easy," he said, and he nodded almost to affirm himself before walking over to his fridge and peering inside. As he pondered what he wanted to drink a soft chime came from his arm and he looked at his palm. The text message from "Marid" projected out from his palm and he pointed it to his fridge door so he could read it as he drank his nutrisoy. "Hey there! Sorry to drop this on you so late but I can't make it tonight. And I'm busy all weekend. So next week maybe? I know you already bought the entrance passes but I'll make it up to you. We can go to Freet's, maybe?  " It was a rollercoaster of emotions. Of course, the one day he was wiped out and resolved to not do anything was the day he forgot he was going to a wicked new simrave called "Avalonia". Of course, then he found out his date cancelled, and of course he'd bought entrance in advance, which, of course... meant that he was shit out of luck, a date, and had pissed away a quarter of his payout on a club opening he suddenly wasn't all that keen on going. Well, at least it was in the Sensenet, so it's not like he had to drive anywhere. Or change. He looked down at his arm, pulling up the information into his cyber-eyes with a thought. He flicked through the ticket info and saw that the opening was for eight. He smiled. "Well, I got some time..."
Kayse loaded up his usual programs as he drifted through the transition into the Sensenet space. Avalonia was on a richer section's grid. Fortunately for Kayse, he could hop grids like a frog. He was going as himself tonight, no Chillmute shenanigans, and so he made sure that the trace blockers and ID walls were booted up and running. Back in the real world, a freshly showered Kayse was lying in bed, on top of the covers. His cybernetic arm glowed and hummed beneath the surface. Since it acted as his phone and interface point with the world, it was also his Sensenet rig. That, combined with the hacking computer installed in his brain, meant that Kayse could slip into the Sensenet almost as naturally as going to sleep. Back in the virtual world, the host was finally loading up. He'd made it through the last layer of grid security and found himself suddenly stepping through the haze of data and finding his foot on stone. Looking around, he was in quaint, renaissance-period surroundings. At the center of the virtual space a gigantic victorian style skyscraper cast its shadow over all surroundings. "AVALONIA" blazed in magical letters above the tower's peak. It was a solid sixty floors of thrumming bass and flashing lights, promising all kinds of diversions with a masquerade theme. The advertisements Kayse had seen advertised thriving raves and ultraluxury dance halls, all contained in a massive virtual skyscraper. The "town" surrounding the giant pleasure tower was made up of smaller virtual businesses. More down-to-earth simbars, rapier dueling circles, and other period stores (For both real & virtual things) and diversions. Kayse took in the scene a little as he walked up to the tower's gate. Security programs mocked as knights and renaissance musketeers kept virtual comers feeling secure and behaved and added to the atmosphere, and they were also checking virtual IDs and tickets at the door. He checked his tickets. Two VIPs, all-access including the "Catherine Room" and all the free simulation booze him and one other person could drink, complete with any-time virtual ordering. Neat. Knowing he could get wasted as freely as he wanted and wake up in bed after, he started searching the crowd of infinitely varied virtual avatars to see if there was any person who looked like they could use a scalped ticket. Might as well make a few hundred credits on the way in, right?
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« on: September 28, 2015, 06:51:27 am »
IDENTITY Full Name: Dyson Bennett Kayse Preferred Name: Kayse (Pronounced Case) Title: Net Jockey, Wire Rider, #2476 on Cancer's most wanted list. Gender: Male Species: Elf Occupation: Makes his money hacking The Cancer's SenseNet; a VR-based "internet," as well as it's more conventional data connections. Residence: Lives in a small flat on the edge between the middle-class districts and the lower-class districts. The flat's decorated with many psychedelic decor items, Punk lifestyle symbolism, and simple comforts. The few comforts he has, though, are extremely modern True/Apparent Age: 37/18 Reputation: Kayse, or rather; his alias Chillmute, is known as one of the best hackers on The Cancer station. He first attained fame when he broke Cancer First Bank's ATM encryption codes and digital ICE, perpetrating the single largest ATM robbery spree in history. His services as a combination SenseNet and conventional hacker, combined with his particular knack for staying undetected in systems, finding weaknesses, and writing the perfect virus or bug, that bring top dollar from his clients. Personality:Kayse is about as anarchist as it comes. He lives a uniquely strict lifestyle, in that he's strictly liberal. He's a guy who believes in doing what you want, whenever you want. He's not necessarily anti-materialism because he does own plenty of modern comforts, he just hates rules, governments, and big business. All of the modern comforts he owns, such as his TV, his microwave, and even his video game systems are either scratch-built using the latest in electronics parts bought from black-market or small business sources. To put things frankly, he doesn't believe in buying anything if it's from a big company. What he can't find at independent merchants, he finds on the black market. That being said, he's not necessarily a bad soul. Kayse likes to socialize, and he dresses ridiculous and looks so vivacious because, behind the calm demeanor of a hacker, there lies a party butterfly who just wants to have a great time. He doesn't really like getting his hands dirty, and even though he's done it in the past. He tends to shy away from wet work, along with jobs that seem to come from bad eggs or jobs that would have very negative ramifications for people uninvolved. PHYSICAL Height: 5'9 Weight: 140 pounds Looks: Kayse has sharp, angular facial features, characteristic of his race. His face is perfect, beautiful, almost statuesque. His hair comes down long on the right of his head, but it's shaved clean on the left. Sections of it are spiked off, causing a sort of ripple effect in his hair as it comes down. His eyes are a striking blue-green. He has a golden ring piercing on his lip, platinum earrings on his earlobes, gemstone studs in the outer cartilage of his ears, and a solid diamond nose ring in the shape of a triangle. He also has a couple of iron studs planted beneath his left eye. On top of this, he has a couple of augmentations. Augmentations: Kayse ha several body mods: -His left arm is cybernetic, but it was purely a voluntary augmentation. For the most part, it functions like a real arm, except Kayse had a holographic projector installed to it and got it synced up with his phone. He uses the arm as a phone, to browse the internet (VR or otherwise) when he's off of jobs, and anything else you'd do with a cutting edge smartphone. The arm itself isn't designed to appear like an anatomical one, instead looking pretty chromed out. The arm is jet black with chrome trims on the edges, and punk symbols and the insignias of metal bands, both ancient and current, are spray-stenciled onto it. The thumb is also a lighter. -He has the latest and most powerful hacking computer installed and implanted directly to his brain, allowing him to hack hands-free, as well as drastically ramp up his brainpower in general. -His eyes are prosthetics as well, which means that he has a HUD that only he can see. The eyes also have various scan functions, and he can use them to see data connections. -His left canine's golden. He lost the original tooth in a fistfight. -Of course, he has the mandatory wire jack in the back of his neck to connect to SenseNet -He has a port in his cybernetic arm that he can put syringe-based drugs into so that he doesn't have to pierce his skin with the needle. Body Structure/Physicality: Kayse might be a hacker now, but he comes from a past of street hustling starting all the way from his teens. He'd always been an athletic child, and elves were never really ever prone to be fat, either. He's lithe, smooth and streamlined. Hairless everywhere except his face and head. His body's covered in lean muscle, with very little fat. Scars: None POSESSIONS Clothing: Where to even begin. In short, Kayse wears whatever the hell he wants. However, he has one outfit he likes above all others. It's a tie-dye shirt, except the dyes are done in geometric shapes rather than random splotches. On top of that shirt, he wears a black jacket that has glowing lines, making it look like a geometric wire frame straight out of a computer. His pants are velvety black but made of denim. Biker gloves, combat boots with studs bolted on, and a faded red scarf complete the look. Ship: Kayse's ship isn't really anything too special. Since Cancer is so big, and its sections so jumbled, the best way to travel around the station is around the exterior or upper levels, using small passenger ships in a fashion similar to cars. Kayse's is a zippy two-seater, ideal for getaways. The exterior is matte black, and Kayse uses a fuel additive that make the engine exhausts glow various colors. Personal Defense: Kayse carries a flechette pistol that can switch from non-lethal to lethal with the flick of a switch, as well as a small caliber solid-projectile handgun by his bed. Armor-wise, he just wears clothing, although if he knows he's going somewhere where he knows his life will be in danger, he'll wear clothing woven to be tougher than it looks. AFFILIATIONS/RELATIONSHIPS Current Family: Father is dead, and his mother is in a retirement home. Every month, Kayse shaves off from his income to help support his mother. Enemies: Kayse has several enemies in the corporate, crime, and law enforcement worlds. Allies/Connections: Kayse has several underworld contacts, along with honorary allegiance with a Cancer-based gang called the Leopard Futuristics HACKING PERSONA Chillmute, Kayse' SenseNet avatar, can take several shapes. However, it tends to alternate between three different iterations. -Chillmute's primary iteration (The one that Kayse uses when he's on the job is a walking blizzard. Tall, thin, and with a featureless form save for two brightly burning pink eyes, Chillmute Primary can lose its solidity and shift its form around. -Chillmute can also appear as a man in a large coat, the parka's fabric patterned to look like glacial ice. The man's face cannot be seen, and the only indication that there's something beneath the parka hood's shadow is the steady mist of breath coming from beneath it. His forearms and his legs beneath the knees are covered in a layer of frost, and his hands are see-through and crystalline, like polished ice. A steady snowfall comes from the shadow of his hood, disturbed every time he breathes. -Finally, Chillmute's third iteration is Kayse. Kayse is a casual user of the SenseNet as well, and as long as he uses minor codes to stay hidden in plain sight from the authorities, he can appear as himself in the several meeting places the SenseNet provides. The only difference between his online version and his real self is that his virtual self possesses icy blue eyes, his hair is white, and he trails snowflakes wherever he walks. HISTORY WIP
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« on: September 17, 2015, 01:37:34 pm »
There was a certain air about the ruins, something Kruz'Iik couldn't quite place, but also found immense pleasure in. A place like this, especially on a forgotten planet like Orias, was absolutely charged with the energies of those who'd come before. A place where the leftover energies of its inhabitants had gone untouched and seeped into the stones, absorbed into the carvings and statues.
Kruz'Iik himself had been in a peaceful mood lately, perhaps even a kind one! Recently, he'd lapsed into his darker habits, as most Mindshifters did when feeding time came, but his resulting meal had left him so charged, so completely satisfied, that he didn't think he'd have to feed for the next ten years!
The ruins were somewhat advanced. Stone constructions, but incredibly precise. Seemed more like an aesthetic choice as a species, rather than their actual level of technology. They were fairly isolated, too. Located in a crater and hidden beneath mountains of rock. The only way to access it was a giant opening in the side of the crater mountain, hidden from satellite view via rocky outcroppings and such. The remnants of an ancient road lead up to it.
While Kruz'Iik enjoyed exploring the ruins and slowly discovering all there was to know about the place, it didn't come without consequences. He made no efforts to conceal himself, so a presence as powerful as his would definitely have set off any sensors, if they were on the planet. He'd already been there for a few weeks, too.
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« on: September 04, 2015, 10:15:10 am »
IDENTITY Full Name: Jessup A. Rhodes Preferred Name: Jesse Rhodes Title: CEO Gender: Male Species: Human; Cancerite Occupation: Head of a one-man scavenging operation called Rhode Scavenging SP Residence: His mini-freighter, Lindy-Lou True/Apparent Age: 25/21 Reputation: As far as the scavenging industry goes, Jesse's pretty small-time, although his clients speak well of him. Personality: Jesse is an amicable, friendly guy. That being said, Jesse was also raised on Cancer, so despite his openly friendly nature, Jesse has a cautious, skeptical side that he tries to hide as a businessman. He'd seen too many of his colleagues answer bad calls to fall for one himself. Pragmatist by nature, Jesse takes very well to his work, and he can sometimes fall oddly quiet when he puts his mind to it. Morals wise, Jesse has a very strong moral compass, and while some of his scavenging contracts might edge on the sketchy (Battlefield scavenging, so on and so forth), he always makes sure to go through the right channels and never does anything illegally if he can help it. Born and raised on a spaceship between the stars, Jesse has no real concept of a homeworld. He sees the planets and stations as just separate places. As a result of this, he often sticks out like a sore thumb when it comes to cultural nuances and conversations. PHYSICAL Height: 5'11 Weight: 196 Pounds Body Structure/Physicality: Due to his job, Jesse's physicality is tightly packed and wiry. A true spacer at heart, Jesse's build is also a bit on the thin side, although it doesn't appear unhealthy. He's just, you know, A bit thin. Looks: Jesse's of slightly above-average looks, but what he lacks in straight appearance, he makes up for in animal magnetism. Jesse's by no means a shaved man, and he very much enjoys his messy, neck-length hair and his full beard. To top his look off, Jesse also usually wears a cowboy hat of sorts, giving him an approachable, old-timey appearance. Scars: Surprisingly enough, none. POSESSIONS Clothing: Jesses' clothing matches his personality. Most of his clothing features some kind of jumpsuit. Heavy jumpsuits, light jumpsuits, sleeveless jumpsuits, the list goes on. On top of these various jumpsuits, Jesse might wear coats, vests, or something altogether. The list goes on! His work clothes are always standard, however. He wears a heavy, reinforced jumpsuit complete with non-military impact plates. It's the latest in scavenging technology, and its features are too numerous to list. Ship:  The Lindy-Lou is a one-man microfreighter and salvage ship. Jesse keeps the old bird running with the help of a few maintenance droids (named Highway, Turnpike, and Boulevard. Jesse's quite conscious of the pronunciation of his last name.) and a little bit of elbow grease. The Lindy-Lou is both a workshop and a cargo freighter. Jesse runs his salvage business from his cargo hold, as well as taking freelance salvage jobs. Personal Defense:Being an everyman of legitimate business, Jesse really possesses no personal defenses of note. The only weapons he owns are a dingy old scatter laser for his ship, and a medium-calibre blaster pistol he keeps on him when he's working. SKILLS Jesse Rhodes is a skilled mechanic, scavenger, and spacer. He's a master of his trade, and knows all the knacks and tricks that comes with a life spent in space. AFFILIATIONS/RELATIONSHIPS Current Family: Father is deceased, Mother is very much alive. Has a few brothers and sisters who live on Libra and other assorted stations. His uncle is a Junior Researcher at TRIM. His family are all spacers. Some have never even set foot on a planet before. Enemies: Apart from a few business rivals, and maybe a couple of people he might've angered on the job, Jesse has no true enemies. As far as he knows, nobody's out for his blood. Allies/Connections: Has a series of freelance contacts that he calls upon to help him sometimes. He's also in-the-loop when it comes to salvage opportunities, events, and technological advancements. HISTORY [WIP]
8
« on: August 26, 2015, 04:27:44 am »
All four of my characters are open for plotting.
Is anybody game?
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« on: August 24, 2015, 11:58:49 pm »
IDENTITY Full Name: Automated Sentient Arcane Interface Preferred Name: Asai Title: Prototype Gender: Her form leans towards female, although it's mostly androgynous. Species: Android Occupation: Wanderer Residence: Her personal ship, a fighter. True/Apparent Age: 207/No apparent age Reputation: Asai tends to keep herself hidden. She can count the people who know of her existence in a single hand. Due to her mechanical nature, she can't by detected through the usual mage/psion detection methods. Personality: Asai, at heart, is a vulnerable girl looking to fit in. Although she fully acknowledges that she's a sentient automaton, she just wants to find acceptance. Asai is incredibly insecure about her mechanical nature, something she alleviates by using solid holograms to appear human around other "people." Despite her fears and insecurities, Asai, when comfortable, is playful and kind. She tries her best to flirt, but she usually just comes out as adorkable. PHYSICAL Asai's True Form (Imagine this, but more feminine) Holographic Form: In order to better blend into society and keep her secret from getting out, Asai installed a solid hologram projector into her chassis. Using this, she can appear as a normal human girl well enough to fool scanners. Her preferred human form is a shy looking, blue-eyed girl with long and curly white hair. She appears about 19, but has the curves, bust, and shape of a woman slightly older. In short, she's pretty hot. Asai recognizes the value of being attractive, but she lacks the self-confidence or even drive to make full use of it. Height: 5"5' Weight: 200 pounds Body Structure/Physicality: Being a machine, Asai's physicality is almost negligible. That being said, her body is shaped quite attractively, even without her holographic disguise. Interestingly enough, her creator did design her with the necessary reproductive interfaces, so Asai can engage in sexual activity, if she so desires. As of now, Asai is a virgin. Scars: She's got a few old scratches that wouldn't buff out completely, but apart from that, she keeps herself in tip-top shape. POSESSIONS Clothing: Asai herself doesn't really wear anything, save for the black cloak worn over her shoulders. When she's holographically disguised, she tends to wear whatever helps her blend in (or even to help her get away). Ship: Asai's ship, to which she's taken to calling Big Brother, is less a ship and more of an extremely intelligent drone. Big Brother has no cockpit of its own. Instead, the plates in the front slide open, allowing Asai to enter, interface herself with the ship, and then take off. The ship is designed to be flexible, which allows it to pull off moves other ships would balk at. Big Brother is an extremely maneuverable vessel, and its armaments are no laughing matter, either. Apart from sporting two dorsal guns that can put the hurt on vessels twice its size, Big Brother also has a deadly "stinger". Utilizing its superior speed and maneuverabilty, Big Brother can close in on most vessels its size and deliver a devestating yet short-ranged attack from its tail. Personal Defense: Although she almost never uses it, Asai does carry a sidearm in case she enters dire straights. It's nothing special, just your average civilian grade pistol. She also has a shield generator built into her chassis, which gives her moderate protection from any attackers. AFFILIATIONS/RELATIONSHIPS Current Family: Her Creator is dead, and she doesn't know how many more like her exist out in the universe. Enemies: Asai regards Edanith and Aedolis with some caution, and she outright avoids Thanatos Inc. and TRIM. A specimen like her would be all too valuable. TRIM is an especially hated foe of hers. Allies/Connections: She has a few friends here and there, but nothing spectacular. MAGIC Yes, you heard right! Asai is a machine capable of sorcery and psionics. Although the secrets of her creation are long lost to the sands of time, her abilities are unquestionably potent. Wielding both the power of a fully developed Psion and Mage, Asai is capable of truly stunning feats of sorcery. While she might not know the full depths of her power, she very much knows that this makes her a target. Fortunately, Asai's mechanical nature makes conventional methods of magic detection useless on her, and it also renders her immune to the Axis Point's effects. HISTORY Asai does not remember her childhood, yet she knew she had one. From the very first moment she awoke in her Creator's laboratory, she knew something was wrong. Asai's Creator was an old, mad genius, hiding in an asteroid field to keep his experiements away from prying eyes. Asai was constructed by the magical imbuing of an android body with the soul of a two year old. Then, an artificial brain was created to house the reactions necessary to produce psionic activity. This mechanical body, given soul and mind, was sentient from its creation, and Asai's creator showered Asai with praise and love as if she was a child of his own. There were others, of course. Other androids, but they weren't quite the same. Asai was the first complete success. When TRIM invaded the laboratory and wiped the place from existence, Asai could only remember wishing she could cry as she floated off into space. Truly, it was the first time in the System's history that an automaton sobbed. She was recovered by one of the AI controlled combat drones invented by her Creator, and the two took care of each-other throughout the years.
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« on: August 21, 2015, 04:33:27 am »
IDENTITY Full Name: Elaros Kr'Vain Hekkar Ton'Cherik Mard'nek Preferred Name: Elaros kr'Vain Title: Lord Gender: Male Species: High Drakkon Occupation: Jewelry tycoon Residence: His pleasure cruiser, The Anastasia True/Apparent Age: 467/467 (Drakkon are incredibly long-lived, with maturity being reached at around four-hundred years of age) Reputation: He's one of (if not) the greatest jewelers in the galaxy, and his economic empire spans the galaxy. His products are sought after by the wealthiest, dreamed of by the poorest. In short, his products are status symbols, fit for royalty. His jewelry is especially desired in Aedolis, as the humans there are fascinated by his draconic appearance, obscene wealth, and habitual debauchery. If anything, he's a model citizen for Aedolis. Personality: Elaros is a glutton, pure as can be. He makes excess his business, making sure to live his life as expensively and pleasurably as possible. Despite this, though, he's soft-hearted on the inside. Generous and generally amicable to the plights of others, Elaros usually doesn't hesitate to help somebody out, if they come seeking him. That being said, Elaros is extremely lecherous. To him, sex is an art form, and it's his most frequently practiced vice. PHYSICAL (Facial and clothing reference only) Teeth: Elaros possesses elegantly curved fangs, polished white. The bases are even lined with engraved golden rings. Eyes: Elaros' eyes are a striking jade in color, with sharp, slit pupils. Skin Tone: His scales are brass in coloration  Height: 6'6" Weight: 235 pounds Body Structure/Physicality: Elaros can be considered the ideal when it comes to outward physicality. His body is chiseled, and retains a human shape despite the fact he's reptilian. Powerful muscles are protected behind glittering, polished scales. And yes, he's very well endowed. Scars: None POSESSIONS Clothing: Elaros wears many different outfits. Some are eye-poppingly extravagant, others are simple and elegant. Regardless, most of his clothing follows a universal pattern. Loose, airy, with silk-thin fabrics. Precious metals are frequently inlaid in his clothing. Depending on the company or occasion, Elaros' clothing might even be open-chested and robe-like. Ship: Elaros' mobile home, The Anastasia, is like a flying mansion. Drakkon by design, this ship is designed to sustain around one-hundred and fifty occupants (Crewmembers, servants, and guards), The Anastasia is a deceptively capable vessel. Pop-out turrets contain the latest in compact railgun technology, allowing the ship to put up a fight against any would-be pirates. Possessing potent shielding and powerful engines, The Anastasia is a tough ship to pin down. Not to mention that a decent portion of The Anastasia's crew are comprised of deadly Drakkon soldiers, fiercely loyal to Elaros and willing to die to the last to protect him. These soldiers are no laughing matter. Add cieling-mounted auto-turrets and self-sealing hallways, The Anastasia is a tough prospect for would-be boarders. The Anastasia The inside of The Anastasia is decorated similarly to that of a High Renaissance palace. Elegant works of art, exquisitely tiled and carpeted floors, and the latest in space-borne entertainment and luxury systems. The Anastasia even possesses an olympic-sized swimming pool, complete with fountain statues and scented water. The Anastasia also features a custom-built Drakkon Slipdrive, a potent engine that allows faster than light travel. Personal Defense: Although Elaros is kind in heart and (usually) gentle in nature, he recognizes that the galaxy is a dangerous place, and it's especially dangerous to be him. While Earth's solar system might not be as threatening as other places, Elaros isn't about to drop his guard. Elaros is a skilled user of Drakkon dueling pistols. Their design might look archaic and ineffective, but they're anything but. A specially shaped cylindrical battery inserts into the back, and provides ten shots to the pistol. Drakkon dueling pistols are powerful enough to punch through military-grade armor in a single shot, but their use requires a skilled and specially trained hand, and the lack of ironsights means a user must judge shots purely by sight. The recoil is also hefty, especially gicen the fact they're laser weapons. Drakkon dueling pistol Elaros rarely leaves his ship without one, and he usually maintains one within a few steps of him at all times. Elaros' defense arsenal also includes a personal shield generator, and a thin, ablative vest he wears under his clothing. The shield can stop assault rifle calibre weapons, but it doesn't take many shots before needing to cool down and recycle. The vest can stop most light to medium calibre handguns, and is specifically designed to ward off lasers. It's less effective against solid projectiles. AFFILIATIONS/RELATIONSHIPS Current Family: Family is alive and well, living on Drakkona. Enemies: Elaros has competitors, sure, but no true enemies. At least, none that he knows of. Allies/Connections: Apart from his various industry connections, Elaros has plenty of friends in high places all over the galaxy, and he has a fan following in Aedolis. DRAKKONAN CULTURE Elaros was born and raised on the planet of Drakkona, approximately eighteen lightyears away from the Earth's sun. The planet Drakkona is split into two, genetically different castes. The low caste are the appropriately named Low Drakkon, with the higher caste being the High Drakkon. High Drakkon are superior to Low Drakkon in every sense, being capable of greater intelligence, strength, and longer lifespans. Some High Drakkon are even born with wings! Elaros was born into High Drakkon society, which enjoys a natural sort of slavery bond with Low Drakkon society. Low Drakkons are biologically wired to be subservient to High Drakkons, and most Low Drakkons would give their lives to protect their High Drakkon masters. What drives this is an incredibly complicated series of natural pheromones and genetic similarities. It's possible for Low Drakkons to be elevated by mere proximity to High Drakkons. Low Drakkons who spend their lives close to High Drakkons are more likely (Although it's highly unlikely regardless of proximity or not) to have High Drakkon offspring, and therefore be elevated. Regardless of caste, Drakkons are a promiscuous, vigorous people. With lifespans and maturity periods so long, Drakkons have recognized the necessity for polygamous relationships. Drakkons have no concept of marriage, they only possess mates they favor more than other. The average Drakkon (both male and female) will have somewhere between twenty to forty mates within their lifetime, with an average of four at any given point after maturity. Not all of these unions result in offspring, most are actually lust-driven. Drakkons are prone to striking it out on their own or in small groups, and often form "colonias," small, tightly knit communities, in the cities of other civilizations. Earth's solar system doesn't possess any known Drakkon colonias. HISTORY Elaros himself is one of these Drakkon who've decided to strike it out on his own. His family was known for a tradition of military service, so around two centuries before Elaros reached maturity, his parents committed him to military service. Although Elaros showed the aptitude, he didn't have the motivation. To the frustration of his instructors, the young Drakkon performed sub-par on purpose. He didn't desire that life, no matter what his parents believed his duty was. When he returned, his parents cast him out in disgrace, a fate shared by a surprising amount of Drakkon adolescents. Extreme pickiness was an instinctual population control of sorts, so Elaros' fate was certainly death. With nobody to support him, Elaros took stock of what he had for himself, and he built his jewelry empire up from the ground over the course of two centuries and a half. Now, he wanders the galaxy in The Anastasia, laughing at those who doubted him as he indulges in excesses of the flesh on a daily basis.
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« on: August 21, 2015, 12:12:37 am »
IDENTITY Full Name: Smideon Helsteif Draggerts Preferred Name: Smed Title: "The Red", "Maneater Smed", "The Little Butcher", "The Bane of Aedolis" Gender: Male Species: Goblin Occupation: Pirate/Warlord/Anarchist/Terrorist True/Apparent Age: eighty-seven/ten (ten for a goblin usually relates to around 18 by human standards. Goblins reach maturuity at ten years old) Reputation: Is on the solar system's most wanted list, and is very well-known as an brutal, merciless terrorist and pirate in Aedolis. Universally hated by Aedolans. Most Notable Crimes (As noted by Aedolis:-- Capture of the Aedolian megacruiser Roaring Dragon -- Three counts of localized genocide in Aedolian and Edenian colonies -- Seven counts of major terrorist attacks -- Jaywalking -- Murder of several Aedolian officials Personality: Smed is one of the most dangerous mass-murderers ever to grace Earth's solar system. Extremely unpredictable, sociopathic, sadistic, and irrecoverably insane, Smed wants nothing but to choke all that is good beneath his heel. Chronically wronged in the past by governments and corrupt authorities, Smed has an enormous distaste for highly organized governments. His dream utopia is a galaxy ruled under no man. Anarchy is his goal, and with each passing day, he gets closer to achieving it. PHYSICAL Hair: Much like many of his species, Smed is hairless. Ears: Long and pointy. They're flexible enough for Smed to wear protective helmets, however. Mouth/Nose: Smed's lips are thin, and he's capable of smiling really wide, almost disturbingly so. His nose is small, and kept close to his face, giving it a semi-flat appearance. Teeth: Smed's teeth are pointed and interlocking. Although naturally sharp, Smed took his Goblin teeth to the next level. His teeth are filed down and reinforced with weapons-grade alloys, giving him the equivalent of a smile full of combat knives. Eyes: Smed's eyes are solid red beads with small, black pupils. Skin Tone: Ming (A shade of blue-green)  Height: 4"6' Weight: 85 pounds Body Structure/Physicality: Smed is built pretty evenly for his height. He's lean and wiry, and his small body is packed tightly with rock-hard muscles. As a result, Smed has a tendency to surprise his opponents with strength one would think unattainable for a Goblin. Scars: Smed has many scars, too many to list individually. A few of the most prominent ones are listed below: -- He's missing the tip of one of his ears. -- He has an "X" scarred across both of his eyes -- He has a chain of large-calibre laser scars running down his torso. ABILITIES Racial: Goblins are naturally dextrous and fierce. Their small bodies are adept at getting underneath the feet of their foes and fighting from their blind spots. Smed's enhanced his natural claws and teeth with alloys and atomic restructuring procedures, allowing him to effectively bite and claw at fully armored soldiers, if he so desired. Skills: Despite his anarchistic nature, Smed has a mind for business, and he has a knack for running his large criminal empire. When it comes to combat, Smed's style is unique, to say the least. He fight with a reckless abandon and disregard for personal safety that even the most unhinged of soldiers would frown at. He is all offense, no defense. Magical/Psychic: There are rumors that Smed can regenerate from any wound, that the small terror's once survived being shot in the head and got back up to fight seconds after. So far, these rumors have remained unconfirmed. EQUIPMENT Armor: Smed keeps his armor loadout light. It consists of a reinforced bodysuit, with the chest, elbows, knees, feet and hands protected in a tri-layered alloy weave. Strong enough to resist most small arms, although things like higher-end assault rifles. His helmet is made of the same material, and is designed to resemble the face of a sneering demon. The helmet is made of interlocking, collapsible plates, so everything above the lower jaw folds away should Smed feel the need to make his face known. His chin nestles in the "lower jaw", so his entire face is exposed when the helmet folds away like this. His armor is spaceworthy as well, a necessity given his occupation. The boots are capable of magnetizing, and the gloves have in-built nanotubes on the fingers that allow them to stick to surfaces. Weapons: Smed's preferred weapons mirror his destructive and chaotic personality. While his armor loadout might be light, Smed spares no expense when it comes to his weaponry. His primary weapon is a heavily customized assault rifle, with more alternate functions and switches than somebody could shake a stick at. The base rifle is standard military-grade. The only thing that remains of the original weapon is the central housing. The stock has been sheared off, and the single barrel replaced with a rotating tri-barrel. To save on weight, the sight has also been removed. The energy clip feed was modified to take much larger clips than originally designed, and the weapon's firing systems, trigger, and safety have been modified and overclocked to allow for a staggering rate of fire. The weapon has four firing states; "Safe," "Burst," "Auto," and the fourth, "No Mercy!" added by Smed when he had the weapon modified. Setting the rifle to "No Mercy!" starts up the rotating barrels and overclocking systems.Beneath the barrels, the rifle also has a small, underslung flamethrower. Smed's other weapons are a pair of dual pistols modified with extended energy clips and dual barrels, and three plasma edged combat knives. He also carries an unsafe amount of crude grenades, cooked up by the devious engineers that work for him. General Gear: In order to keep himself mobile, Smed has a jetpack mounted on the back of his armor. His small size and low weight allow for precise, quick maneuvers. He also has a wrist-mounted grapple harpoon in one hand, and a pop-out plasma dagger in the other. AFFILIATIONS/RELATIONSHIPS Current Family: All dead, no relatives to speak of. Enemies: Basically all of civilized space. Allies/Connections: Smed is one of the central pins of the solar system's criminal network. A lot of weapons, narcotics, and even slaves move through his organization, The Sneering Sun Gang. Apart from his own gang (The members of which can be found wherever civilization crops up), he has many friends and connections in both low and high places. THE SNEERING SUN GANG Membership: The Sneering Sun Gang is comprised of goblins, gnolls, hobgoblins, and any other immigrant alien races that often find themselves the dregs of society. While the skill levels of members vary wildly, they are stratified. Members who peddle drugs in the underbelly of Cancer are decidedly less deadly than the fighters who accompany Smed on raids. Numbers: Sneering Sun gangsters number in the millions. The Sneering Sun Gang has its grubby fingers in pretty much every single pie in the solar system. If there's a population large enough to support illegal activities, the Sneering Sun Gang has a presence, even if its only a couple members. Cancer is where The Sneering Sun Gang has the most presence, however. The convoluted engineering and winding ducts of Cancer allow for nearly limitless possibilities for trafficking and safehouses, especially since Goblins can fit in places where other races can't. Headquarters: The Sneering Sun Gang's nerve center is always on the move. Smed commands the gang's operations from a massive flotilla of crude yet deadly ships, the crowning jewel of which being Smed's personal capital ship, The Omega Holocaust. THE OMEGA HOLOCAUST For a slightly cooler angle, click Here! The Omega Holocaust used to operate under the moniker of The Roaring Dragon, as it used to be an Aedolian capital ship before Smed "appropriated" it. Classification: Capital ship Armaments: A LOT. Omega Holocaust possesses a staggering amount of firepower, and while it has no weapons that could deliver a one-shot knock out blow to a similarly sized cruiser, it can pour out almost blinding amounts of laser, gauss, plasma fire. Torpedoes, missiles, and even fighter-defense weapons can all be found. The various weapons are all assembled into "Macro-batteries", so although The Omega Holocaust can fire in pretty much all directions, weaponry is usually focused in five different directions. There's the port macrobattery, the starboard macrobattery, the ventral macrobattery, the dorsal macrobattery, and the bow macrobattery. The weapons on the front can be brought into the bow and sealed behind blast-plating, turning the front of the ship into a potent ram. With the engines and mass of a Capital ship behind it, a ram from The Omega Holocaust often spells doom for the poor ship receiving it. As a Capital ship, Omega Holocaust can stand on its own, and its survived countless altercations with Aedolian military fleets, sometimes even by itself. Crew/ Crew size: Crewed by goblins given naval training, Omega Holocaust is in no shortage of crew members. Originally designed to comfortably support five thousand human crew, Smed had the bunks and life support redesigned to uncomfortably support almost fifteen thousand goblins. Apart from this giving the ship a staggering amount of backup crewmembers, it also means that boarding the vessel is a nightmare. Cramped corridors, hidey-holes and tunnels, dark lighting, and thin air that goblins find comfortable are not as hospitable, or even accessible, to humans. Tactics: The Omega Holocaust starts moving in one direction, and doesn't stop until Smed says so. If any ships get in the way, they're rammed. The absurd amounts of weaponry on the ship give it a 360 degree attack radius, and allow it to engage multiple targets as it travels in a straight line through enemy formations, shrugging off attacks and causing pure chaos and terror.The excess crew are assigned to full-time repair, allowing Omega Holocaust to quickly repair damage that makes it past its armor. Not to mention The Omega Holocaust is rarely alone. It travels with a flotilla of smaller, crudely made ships, all of Goblin design. HISTORY Coming soon!
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« on: July 28, 2015, 10:53:10 am »
Globster here, just wanting to wish you all a very happy hello! I've signed up for RoTE in the past, and even had a short stint in a couple of threads, but I'm perfectly aware that I've dropped of the face of RoTE since then.
Well, I just want to say that I'M BACK, SUCKAS! And I'm here to stay this time! I'll be "RoTe-nizing" as many of my SoTE characters as I can, and filling in the gaps with brand new SHINY characters!
Shout out to Rhi-Rhi, because we're probably going to have a crap ton of threads here too!
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« on: August 05, 2014, 10:00:01 pm »
Name: Au'Nvratyis Ky'for'ua (pronounced Own-vrat-yes Kai-for-ya)
Species: Kathractian
Age: several millenia
Appearance. Au'Nvratyis usually wears a trench coat, wide-brimmed hat, heavy gloves, and large boots. This excessive amount of clothing exists to hide his true appearance from other races. When not in his concealing outfit, the reason for wearing it becomes clear. Starting from the bottom up, his feet are hooved, and his goat-like legs are thin but extremely muscular. His skin has no hair whatsoever, and is bone colored. From the abdomen up, his physique reflects that of his legs. Thin but exceptionaly muscular. He sports four arms, which end in four thingered hands that are unnaturally dextrous. His head is bony, and is human-like, save for the thin eyes that are solid voids of black, the mouth full of sharp teeth, the whip like tounge, and the three bony crests that reach all the way from his forehead to the back of his head.
Personality: Au'nvratyis is enigmatic and nomadic by race, always finding new places to live and new lives to take over. He's been to most of the planets in the universe, and has an almost sage-like countenance and outward appearance. He speaks in his exotic voice only when nescessary, and is well versed in almost every major language in the universe, albeit with a lot more clicks and rolled r's than nescessary. In terms of morality, Au'Nvratyis tends towards being a benign influence on others, but has no qualms with seriously injuring someone or even taking a life if it means the safety of his species or himself, which are basically the same thing. He rarely makes true friends, and finds it hard to attach himself emotionally to things.
History: Au'Nvratyis Ky'for'ua was born into the Ky family, the royal family of Kath, his home planet. His name, which his Kathractian for "Hunter of the moon (Au'Nvratyis), Ruler of all (Ky'for'ua), features the prefix Ky in his last name, which not only means "ruler", but is also the last name prefix all Kathractian kings have, to which the commoners refer to as "The Ky". Au'Nvratyis was raised as a warrior, mastering the Kathractian martial art reserved for royalty known as "Ior'Ka Ky'Zar", or "Fallen Prince" , and mastering Kathractian bladed weapons.
When he finally came to maturity (about 500 years old), he was crowned Ky of Kath, and within 500 years he had united most of the planet by way of warfare and economic power, putting the Kathractians in a new golden age of prosperity and harmony. That is of course, until the Kua'Hod ("Metal Demons") arrived, an alien race comprised of hatred and cold metal, and exterminated the Kathractians in only ten years. Au'Nvratyis was able to escape along with some priceless weaponry and artifacts by using a waist worn device called the "Ky'd Dr'ik", or "Ruler's Ark.", which was in reality a belt worn spacial relocator that would relocate the wearer to any point in space and time, just not at the same time. He used this to travel to the farthest possible habitable planet, all the way on the other side of the galaxy.
Le'Raana
Unfortunately, his Ky'd Dr'ik became damaged when he arrived, and he was stranded on Le'Raana. He acquired his signature disguise, and has since been part of it's history. He has lived on it for countless ages, and can recall the times when men and women hacked each other apart with swords and axes instead of using lasers.
Tricks, Trinkets, Gadgets, and Weapons
Ior'Ka Ky'zar: a martial art taught exclusively to Kathractian Kys. It uses the four arms of the Kathractians to full effect, and has an emphasis on complex grapples, submission holds, and flurries of rib-shattering strikes.
The "Ruler's Ark": a belt-worn device that can transport the user to any location in space and time, just not at the same time. When it goes off, it leaves a circular sigil on the ground that contain the coordinates or time the user transported to in Kathractian, supposedly
so the commoners would know where their leader went.
Monomolecular Blades: Blades so sharp the edge is only a single molecule wide. Shaped on Kath and forged in the heat of a star, these blades made of Kathite are inconcievably sharp and durable, to the point of nigh-indestructibility.
The Amulet of Kings: An amulet passed down from Ky to Ky, this amulet is as old as the Kathractians, and grants the wearer immunity to the affects of aging while worn, ensuring that Kys are only killed in honorable battle. It consists of a gem that resembles the night sky set in an elegant gold cage.
The Armor of Kings: Also passed down from Ky to Ky, this armor is light and does not encumber the wearer, while providing unprecedented protection to vitals on the same level as the best light combat armor. It is comprised of Kathite plates, and made with the same methods as the Monomolecular Blades. It resembles a knight's breastplate, except made of a metal that shines brighter than any other.
Splinter Pistols: fully automatic and totally alien by design, Splinter Pistols are designed to shoot hardened shards of light at the target. The weapons boast a blistering rate of fire, but accuracy is on the low side. The shards can pierce any material, but will only go a few inches deep, meaning while they may be useless against heavier targets, lightly armored targets are absolutely shredded. The splinter pistols come in a set of four, and Au'Nvratyis wears each one under each arm.
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« on: August 04, 2014, 09:45:02 am »
__________________QUICK STATSName Kruz'Iik B'Ahl'Ok Age untold eons Gender Male Species Mindshifter Height 9'4 Build Thin but wiry Occupation N/A Residence Wanderer __________________SPECIES SPECIFICSGeography Mindshifters have hives all over the known universe and beyond, but their population is relatively (and thankfully) low, and Mindshifters are never seen out of their hive, save for the nigh unique Mindshifters that are assigned the task of accumulating vast stores of knowledge by taking to the stars Physical Appearance Mindshifters are naturally unnerving beings, given their unique looks. Their true forms are tall, shadowy black humanoids with large glowing red eyes, always shifting on the edge of perception. Their outlines are always blurry, like they're constantly dissolving into the world around them. The average build of the Mindshifter is tall and lean, with most of them pushing nine feet in height. Any bodily features are indiscernible, however, since their jet black bodies appear only as silhouettes, save for the eyes. This alien appearance is due to their otherworldly origins. When the gods first created the universe, the massive amounts of energy combined with the mental power the gods exerted coalesced into a race of creatures neither physical or intangible, neither alive or dead, composed of both matter and something else entirely. Gender Differences Female Mindshifters are almost indiscernible from the males physically, but often take female forms when they shapeshift. Racial Attributes/Abilites Mindshifters are almost unnervingly hard to kill, known to persist through even decapitations. Whether one has ever actually been killed, however, is up to debate, seeing as all their dealings with outsiders are through illusion. Mindshifters are also curiously strong given their thin appearance. This is because their bodies themselves naturally repel matter, which allows them to swipe objects as big as carriages out of their way, and easily pick up assailants. All Mindflayers are psionic at birth, and this natural psychic power is the center of their culture and society. These powers manifest in the physical world, the mental world, and even in the metaphysical realm. Culture Mindshifters do not have neither a patriarchal nor matriarchal society, although children-bearing females are held in high regard. Society is built around the psionic capabilities of its members, a "Psiocracy" of sorts. Those with more literal power are almost always higher up than weaker individuals. Mindshifter laws operate on an "eye for an eye" basis, where those accused are put under "trial" (submit to having their minds read) and if they are found guilty the individual who was wronged (or the immediate family, if it was a murder) gains the right to impart on the convicted a punishment equal in proportion to the crime. Needless to say, almost all convicted murderers are executed. Mindshifter language is a strange entity. Mindshifters, although capable of producing words using their advanced vocal chords, have a very complex system of communication involving their entire bodies that only an Mindshifter can utilize (except for telepathy, which is the most common communication form with outsiders). The Mindshifter language is primarily telepathic, but uses the body features to help the message across. The average Mindshifter uses the hands for gestures, emphasis, and even entire words. Subtle eye color changes like brightening around the edges or colored spots helps project emotion, and hums and chimes of varying pitch distinguish between tone. Mindshifter music is always a series of flat notes performed orally, entirely by females, and can be simple melodies or grand sweeping cacophonies of beauty, depending on how many are involved. All Ilithid music feels strange to outsiders, as the tones are charged with psionic energy that conveys emotions and messages only a Mindshifter can read. Mindshifter art appears to be little more than slabs of stone covered in writing. Artists are not the ones who can literally paint the best picture, but the ones that can describe the best picture. The slabs are meant to be read with the mind, so that a beautiful mental image appears. Ilithid art can convey all five senses, completely placing the viewer in the intended scene. Mindshifters are avid eaters of pretty much anything, but they have a particular taste for minds. The more impatient Mindshifters prefer not to waste time draining the minds of their victims (usually the rare outsider that blunders in), and go straight for the source. With their teeth and claws. The smarter the victim, the more delicious the meal. (They like to eat brains, is what I'm sayin') __________________IN-DEPTH STUFFPhysical Description Kruz'Iik (and Mindshifters by extension) looks like this:  Image courtesy of Dreadcentral.com Personality Being an Mindshifter, Kruz-Iik is enigmatic and intelligent by nature. He is prone to dodging around questions or giving direct answers, as bluntness is not the Mindshifter way. He thinks of himself and Mindshifters in general as superior to what he refers to as the "Lesser Races", which constitute anyone without psionic powers or aptitude. He tends to be favorable to those with magical aptitude however, as wizardry is something that requires mental prowess, a trait favored in Mindshifter society. However, unlike other Mindshifters, Kruz'Iik is open to strangers in a curious way. Kruz'Iik is uncharacteristicall y inquisitive, even for a race that can read minds almost as easily as breathing. Being on an ordained mission from the Mindshifter leadership to learn about the outside world as much as possible, he claims to know the habits of creatures (even sentients). Unfortunately, Kruz'Iik has an extremely lateral mind, and is quite cold and heartless with some of the things he has to do for the sake of information. Murder, psionically aided seduction, dining on brain, and slow and methodical mind draining are all things he would do without the bat of an eye if there was no other option. After all, what is the mind of a primitive against the knowledge of the Mindshifters? Magic/Abilities Kruz'Iik is a master psion, capable of breaking the very laws of the universe to achieve his goals. He is capable of telekinesis, mental attacks and mind control, controlling biological processes with sheer force of intellect, and even minor genesis. Kruz'Iik possesses a bite strong enough to crack through a skull to get to the meaty brain inside. When not on the offense, Kruz'Iik uses subliminal telepathy, psychology, and rhetoric in even casual conversation. Relationships Kruz'Iik is a long-standing member of the Mindshifter nobility, being an individual of significant power. Although he's rather lowly when it comes to overall standing, he still wields great power, especially since he is the father of four children with the daughter of a more powerful Mindshifter. History(Will be filled in when I come up with something)
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« on: August 03, 2014, 08:18:44 pm »
YO YO YO MAH PEEPS, YA BOI GLOBSTER HERE!
*clears throat*
So, after about five minutes of deliberation and wondering wether I can handle the extra load of another forum or not, I've decided to step beyond the boundaries of SotE into the shiny, chrome-plated frontier that's RotE! I plan to recreate all of my SotE characters (time and coffee supplies permitting).
For all you globbies who know me from SotE, I look forward to future-ing with you. For all you new peoples I haven't met...I LOOK FORWARD TO FUTURE-ING WITH YOU TOO!
Yours Truly,
Daglobster, Head of Glob Department
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