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And done!
Pleeease stop double-posting. When you're the last one who posted, just edit your post to include additional information. Also, you still have a few grammatical errors in your sheet, please proof-read it.
Thanks~

What if my character was robotic aka synthetic... but has absolutely no qualms about being artificial and in fact thinks being a robot is the shit and existential crises are for inferior operating systems.
Sounds great!
I get that I'm pushing the bill with a character that doesn't fit all the criteria
It doesn't fit Pei's criteria, but is perfectly acceptable by mine! Pei will grumble and whatnot but she can get over it! And Heather will have someone to talk to- ahahaha no she won't, they won't see eye to eye at all.
So would I have permission to try to write a non-sympathetic killbot who only thinks of death
Of course! If... you can live with playing an HK-47 expy! But HK-47 was awesome and quirky and just what this party needs! Plus I'm sure your killbot won't be a total ripoff of HK-47, right~? =P
 
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Of course! If... you can live with playing an HK-47 expy! But HK-47 was awesome and quirky and just what this party needs! Plus I'm sure your killbot won't be a total ripoff of HK-47, right~? =P
*sweeps HK-47 fanart under the rug*
N-No! Of course not, hehehe... I've never even heard of this Aych Kay Forty Seven thing, hahahahahahahaha! HAHA! HA!
*pushes HK-47 dakimakura back under the bed*
 
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*pushes HK-47 dakimakura back under the bed*
xD I lol'd, well played.

Yeah that's what I thought. The character idea is fine by me, but I played the crap out of KotOR so do try to be a li'l original~
 

LbLoO9Y.jpg

Myuri Frey


Technician
Standing at 5’ 0” and weighing just shy of a hundred pounds, Myuri, or sometimes affectionately called “Frey Frey,” is not a very imposing figure. With pointed, elongated ears, she may look like an elf of fantasy, but she is in fact from a race known as the Tarra. Living up to several hundreds of years, their longevity and outward lack of aging is balanced by frail, often small bodies.

Descended from wyrm-like ancestors that once flew, their members have surprisingly cat-like eyes and a pair of backwards facing antenna-like horns atop their heads. While their antennae come in many shapes and forms, they are actually closer to the technical definition of antenna than the zoological one; the Tarra can transmit and receive radio waves through their brains and are able to communicate between each other through radio waves alone at a distance. As a “side-effect,” they can also communicate and interface with man-made radio waves at certain frequencies. Talented individuals of the Tarra race can practice primitive forms of radar.

In the case of Myuri, she has a pair of particularly bendable stick-like black receivers adorned atop medium length turquoise hair and a set of brilliant orange eyes.

The biological complexity of her race had its downsides. You’d probably have expected that they’d have an advantage to go pretty far in radio technology. Maybe you'd think they'd have had a good headstart in figuring out how to jump to space too, but no. They got to inventing jet airplanes and then sat nice and content with their achievement. It was only when a space-faring humanoid race made first contact a couple hundred years ago did they get their first touch of space. Even then, the lazy fucks didn’t even like to get off the planet much. Myuri was a bit different, though; once one of the few that lent their aid to the planet’s self-defense force, she soon found herself up in the stars… going where no Tarra had gone before.

Frey has a formidable resume. Like many of her race, Myuri lends herself to technical things very well. Marvels of engineering fall before her; given enough time and the proper parts, she guarantees anything can be returned to their former glory. Both tinkering with hardware and software is her thing, and she has a particular hard-on for closely inspecting those of the artificially sentient persuasion. She can also pilot; an experienced aviator in the far past, given enough time to acclimate, she can drive or fly most vessels given familiar enough flight controls. Don't expect a comfortable ride from her though; her handling has a tendency to be overly aggressive and otherwise prone to maneuvers that belong on fighters more than anything else. Arguably her best skill, however, is her uncanny ability to sense her surroundings with a continuous wave pulse at will. While she is no replacement for a true targeting console, her antenna act as a personal fire-control system for small arms and she’s fairly good at landing shots on target without even looking. Even when shooting traditionally computer-guided weapons, if she gets up nice and snug with the interface, things seem to miss far less.

Myuri doesn’t have a fancy suit or many miracle devices. Along with her brain and skills, it’s just her, an old kinetic pistol, a good set of tools, a weathered hunting knife, a retrofit laser rifle, and a couple of portable computers.

She was never a particularly straight-edged person. Possessing an unhealthy helping of greed and an incompatible alcohol habit, Myuri always seems perpetually just outside the grasp of wealth and a ship of her own. To facilitate her desires, she spends her professional time hawking her skillset to the highest and most interesting bidders. Combined with a penchant for adventure, she eventually found herself unfortunately stuck aboard EG7, subsisting on the utterly boring work of repairing station systems.

Hopefully for her, that would not last for long. After all, who wouldn’t want to hire a small, jaded, snark-serving, talented but high-functioning alcoholic of a girl?



Wow, that took me a while to find a name for her. I ended up taking a bunch of liberties with her racial abilities. I'm going to touch a few things up in the morning, but let me know if any of those or anything else is an issue!
 
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[Tick]

BfxTwuu.jpg

Tick's real name is 49660293-50152860. That's his serial number. Machines don't need names when they can remember long strings of integers that have so many variables, no two machines will ever have the same number. But since organic beings seem to be unable to remember long strings of numbers (I know, bunch of simpletons) you can just call him "Tick".

"[My designation is 49660293-50152860.]"
"Ooookay. I'm gonna call you Tick."


Tick here is a thoughtful, contemplative, emotionally curious machine killer robot who values organic life about as much as he values gluten free applesauce. Which is to say not at all. Tick's programming and personality development have made it an aggressive and impulsive machine of fiery, violent, 5.56mm fueled destruction.

Tick's particular drone model is actually quite old; so much so that there aren't that many left and they're a little rare. The vast majority of them were scrapped or destroyed for everyone's safety. They had the bad habit of committing unwarranted acts of violence.

His model type was developed long ago by a strange and eccentric alien species that lived on Earth alongside the humans. This strange species, known as "Russians", were pretty famous for their feats of wartime engineering. The ABP Mk IV or Avtomatizirovannyy Blok Pekhoty Versiya were once mass produced, put onto ships, and sent off to fight on whatever godforsaken rock the Russians had beef with this time. Most ABP's didn't develop personalities like Tick did. Frankly, they just didn't live long enough. Those that did, however, usually lasted a lot longer once they achieved a more developed personality. Being able to make decisions off of more than just pre-installed battle data goes a long way in suvivability.

Most developed ABP's weren't as... friendly as most other developed AI's however. They lacked the emotional curiosity due to an over-reliance on outdated protocols. Essentially, they ignore most emotional responses in favor of the one thing they want to do; achieve whatever objective they've been set to. This is where Tick comes in. Tick is sentient, sure... but other AI's might frown on his idea of putting his intelligence to good use. Tick has three primary objectives.

1. Kill things.
2. KILL THINGS
3. KILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILL

Without any leadership (at least not since their manufacturer blew themselves sky high with nuclear fire) ABP's default to an [ALL HOSTILE] mode instead of an [ALL NEUTRAL] mode like most other combat AI's. Their objectives roll back to [MAINTAIN HOSTILITY] which pretty much means they're gonna keeping fighting things until they drop. There was also the small addition made during their programming. The act of killing elicits a positive feedback response. Aka, some idiot thought it would be a good idea if they programmed the killer robots to enjoy (and possibly become addicted to) the act of killing. This hits Tick especially hard, who will go into the robotic equivalent of bitchy on-the-rag attitude (he threatens everyone with violence) if he doesn't kill something for too long.

If Tick was a human, he'd be a psychopath. Actually no, being a psychopath would imply something is wrong with him. Tick's functioning the way he's supposed to. Disregard the lives of other beings and act with decisive violence. That cat? Bang. That thug standing in the alley? Kablooey. The automated parking ticket distributor? .30 caliber fueled death. If it's killable, he'll kill it. He doesn't discriminate. He's an "equal opportunity for all" kind of robot. Regardless of race, gender, sexuality, beliefs, or species. Everyone gets shot!

Additionally, the concept of ethics is something Tick ignores. Ethics are a psychologically contracted weakness that organics possess. Tick doesn't do ethical; not his style. So you can bet theft and vandalism are also a-okay with Tick. Especially theft. Seriously, watch your stuff around him. If he's not trying to kill you, you can bet he's stuffing your things into his empty ammo pouches; and he will take anything that isn't nailed down. If your underwear starts disappearing, you know why. You have it, he doesn't; therefore, he wants it.
"Have you ever thought about love, Tick?"
"[No. What is love?]"
"It's when you care for someone. Care enough to die for them."
"[That sounds like an efficient method of elimination. Where can I find this 'love'?]"


Speaking of which; the best way to get Tick to not kill you, is to hire him. Give him the choice; he could kill you and your crew, but then he'd only claim a handful of lives. Or he could come with you, get to see exotic locales, meet exciting new people, and then shoot them. Hmmm... kill five or six random jack-offs... or kill dozens of people around the universe. He's been doing this kind of shindig ever since walking into bars and shooting them up got harder once they put wanted signs all over the place. The best part is, you don't need to spend money on food and resources for him! Just have a mechanic handy. He's capable of fixing himself, but sometime's it better to have a professional weld a hand back on instead of just duct taping it.

Tick is not subtle. Subtlety is for beings who suffer from things like fear or foresight. In a fight, Tick's less "Black Ops Sniper" and a little more "Robo-Rambo Rampage III: Robo-Rambo Returns". Robotic strength means recoil is a thing that only organics worry about, and firing two light machine guns simultaneously is now a possibility. Automatic shotguns work nicely too. The best way to make good use of Tick is to give him the biggest guns you have and let him go nuts. Just have plenty of ammo ready. Tick's aim is all over the place. He hails from the combat philosophy of "You don't need to shoot better. You just need to shoot more than them." Kick the door down, spray the room, leave a little pile of spent shells at your feet, rinse, and repeat. Shoot lots of bullets, hit lots of things. Close combat's easy-peasy for a robot too. You can't stab or punch titanium. But being beaten to death by cold, hard, metallic hands? Not a nice way to go.

Tick isn't that bright, however. That's not to say he's stupid. He's just... nearsighted. He usually doesn't think things through and it takes a bit of convincing to get him to actually use any sort of foresight. Most AI's are extremely future-oriented. Tick is now oriented. This is because he's technically an outdated system. That's right. Tick's AI is a lot stupider (but stupid more dangerous) than most other AI's. He's not programmed for foresight. Most AI's can beat any organic at chess. Tick wouldn't even be able to beat you at Connect Four; his priority systems would just tell him to acquire an immediate victory and smash the game set. So yeah, compared to other AI's, Tick is much more impulsive and present-oriented.

"Aaaand that's four; I wi- DON'T!"
"[I have destroyed all your tiny circular units. Victory is mine.]"


Another funny thing about Tick is that while his personality is usually "KILL DESTROY KILL", it isn't always "KILL DESTROY KILL". Just most of the time! When it isn't, Tick makes quite an interesting conversationalist if you can get him to sit down and talk. He has... interesting opinions on things.

Clothing?
"[That thing organics wear because they seem to fear nudity. Fearing that others will see your body is a sign of weakness. Hats, however, are acceptable for aesthetic purposes.]"

Movies?
"[I do not understand why you would watch someone shoot others on a screen when you can just go out and shoot them yourself. Biological lifeforms are illogical. Their lives must be very boring.]"

Sex?
"[I still do not fully understand this concept. Biological beings seem to compete and take pride over this. Is it some kind of sport?]"

Anime?
"[What?]"

Anime. This stuff.
"[Oh.]"
*gunshots*

Equipment? Well, Tick's not really attached to any particular piece of equipment (sold separately; some assembly required). His loadout changes whenever he runs out of ammo or finds something better. Best way to keep him pointing guns at your enemies and not you is to give him said guns. Biggest ones you can find. His current loadout is:

1x MWS-44 Heavy Machine Gun: Taken from a squad belonging to the Free Battalion of Terrans and Canoids who won't be needing it anymore now that they've come down with a bad case of death. The FBTC often uses this as a weapon emplacement, or more often it's mounted on vehicles. Every now and then you might see one rigged up to an auto-aim system to use as an automated turret too. So either set it down, or rest it against something, but don't fire it while you're carrying the damn thing. Cause the recoil is insane. You see the two barrels? They fire simultaneously. If you think the kick on a heavy machinegun is hard, try one that fires two at a time. So naturally, Tick's gonna carry it and use it like an LMG. Because fuck organics and their recommended safety procedures.

2x KW01 Submachine Gun: Popular with Special Forces groups around the galaxy for its high ammo capacity and accuracy. They're designed to be held with both hands and usually fitted with a silencer. Most who use them are trained to fire in short, accurate bursts...
Tick uses them like pistols and sprays everywhere instead. They just work better that way, at least in Tick's opinion. His KW's used to be silenced, but constantly firing until the clip is empty before reloading and doing it again has completely destroyed the silencers. Both of which are still attached but slightly flared outwards after such ridiculous abuse. Oh yeah, they also once belonged to people who are now dead. If you're not sensing a pattern here, you have a lot more faith in robot-kind than I do.

8x R13 Fragmentary Grenades: Simple idea. Pull the pins, let the spoons pop off, and then throw them. They blow up after that. Tick likes to throw two or three at a time. Just in case one isn't bad enough when you're crouching behind a bar and bullets are annihilating the woodwork around you. Tick actually bought these...
Just kidding, no he didn't.

1x Pair of Titanium Fists: Knives are for people who have no faith in their ability to punch shit until it's dead. Luckily, the concept of faith is for dumb organics. If Tick can carry absurdly heavy weapons like regular rifles, you know he's gonna hit pretty hard. If you're the kind of conspiracy theorist that thinks robots will eventually rise up and take over (and they totally will), then Tick's probably the unholy image of your worst nightmares. There is no laxative in existence more effective than the sight of a heavily armed robot punching and tearing his way through the reinforced door you're hiding behind.



Well, here he is. Developed by Russians, sent to shoot things all over, and now riding around in a cramped spaceship with you where there is nowhere to run! At least he doesn't snore!
 
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Well after reading through everything I think I'll try to have a go at a human, hope he interests you enough!





Arid "Helldiver" Mandra

Age 25, 6'2", Wicked and Slightly Insane Grin

76TTTea.png



Pilot
While most people in life prefer living a nice easy life at ease, Arid is kind of on the opposite spectrum. Life, as he likes to say, is a roller coaster and can either be a slow and boring little kids one or some insane one where it might just blow up at some point in it! Obviously preferring the latter, Arid almost immediately left his home at the Borat 39 Space Station in search of adventure. Of course in the real world as a kid it's hard to start your life with an honest job, so instead Arid stole a ship. For a while he was free, until the starboard wing scraped against the hangar door and almost immediately died. Luckily, the ship did an automatic ejection right before the ship slammed into the station.

After that whole incident, Arid was put into work at a convenience store to pay off the debt for the ship. For two days he worked, then he stole a ship again. He got a little farther this time, until the ship was hit by an EMP bolt to disable the ship. He was arrested again, then after being released on bail by his parents he stole a third ship. Third time's the charm right? Or was that the definition of insanity? One of those. Whatever the case, Arid was successfully away from the space station for about two hours until he was boarded by pirates and just started working for them at that point.

Fast forward a several years and Arid has managed to earn his own nickname Helldiver. One would usually take pride in the name, although the one who first gave it thought it was a good synonym for "suicidal idiot". Nevertheless, Arid decided to keep it as it was a decent description of what his specialty was. Arid has flown a number of suicidal missions, personally surprised himself why he's still alive. One mission did go a bit hairy and cost him part of his right eye and forearm but he was able to get those replaced eventually.

Arid has...a small problem with the authorities. Okay, more like a huge problem, like he's supposed to have been executed a certain amount of times? Eh, details right? Not to worry, Arid's got his full set of fake IDs, contacts, and hidden bunkers. Right now, Arid just kind of needs a crew. He may or may not have just backstabbed his old partners. Again, details right?


Skills
  • Piloting: "Probably something I should be good at, seeing I'm applying for it." Kind of a giveaway seeing his background, but it's what he'd put at the top. Due to his experience, Arid's gotten a knack for adapting to new ships fairly quickly.
  • Basic Engineering: "It is nice to know how to not blow yourself up while fixing the ship." Having flown in several one man fighters Arid's caught onto basic engineering over the years after a series of burns, scorches, and minor explosions.
  • Marksmanship: "How much you wanna bet I can hit the hat off that guy over there?" While not perfect, Arid's gotten quite adept at using various ranged weapons over his years in the underground life.
  • Totally Trustworthy: "Ah come on, why'd you ever question that?" Uh...background checks are unnecessary, just rely on his word!
  • Escape Artist: "Being really good at pissing people off requires the skill of getting away fairly quickly." With all of his backups and resources, Arid has access to multiple getaways that can be used by the crew.
  • Not Dead Yet: "Well it is a plus." With all the hell he's gone through, not being dead is always a perk to him.

 
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Brent 'Venom' Roless, A Captain Abandoned

Hey there, Pei! Remember me? Captain Brent Roless from the Fairly Bruised But Not Actually Bloody Mary? Yeah, the old girl finally kicked the bucket, and my crew decided a month back that they were done hauling ass and went off to become gangsters or something down in the Ulistrano Solar System. Those poor sods are probably dead now, though.

Anyways, a captain without a spacefaring vessel might as well be a quadruple amputee with no education, and the royal hunters from planet Karn are STILL after my ass for that time where I backhanded their hyper-bitchy princess, so hey, wanna do an old friend a favor and let him hop aboard? Really, I’m not asking for much in terms of employee rights. Just give me four hours of sleep a week, let me stock your bucket of junkyard bolts full of alcohol, and I’ll show you a whole new world.

Oh, right, actual resume. Guess you’ll have to put up with my masturbation for a bit then, if my divine drink-mixing skills aren’t enough to get your interest. If it is though…just scroll down, my friend!

You’re not?

Ok.

Time to stroke my ego.

What Makes Me Better Than Everyone Else (that would apply to a position)
Not ten, not twenty, but THIRTY years of captaining a vessel that would make your ship look like a top-of-the-line Arcturus Surface-Razer.
Who can make nothing last forever? This guy.

Physical stamina that will make anyone breathless (robots not included).
All those other fatass meatheads work for what, maybe a day? Two? But me? Six day shifts are nothing. Don’t even need coffee or adrenaline injections for that. You want shit done consistently? I’m the man.

The ability to transform into one scary motherfucker. (this was totally just a conveniently placed picture, but fuck, it's badass)
You see, as a captain, I only have one problem with your ‘no uggo’ request. Being surrounded by beautiful babes is anyone’s dream, but, honestly? When you need to extract information from a tough nut that’s high on painkillers, you can’t just expect that your cute little face will intimidate them, right? Thankfully, you got a Prec’Ilae on your side! Unlike most, I can go from roguishly handsome spacefarer to nightmare fuel alien face-sucker in exactly…0.18 seconds. Breaks my heart every time I give someone a heart attack, but for you, my friend, I’m more than willing to break one of my hearts for the information that you seek.

G-g-g-g-g-godlike gaming skills.
Remember that one time where I only had singles, but still made all those other card sharks fold in that poker game down at Cadelonia? Remember that one time where I 1v9’d all those Champion-ranked players in that MOBA that was popular a couple of years back? Remember that one time where I crashed a fighting game tournament, broke both of my arms, but still managed to beat the three-time world champion with my feet alone? Really, my feats speak for themselves. If there’s ever a point where the fate of the ship depends on some arbitrary bullshit that a self-proclaimed King of Games challenged us to, just leave it to me. I’ll crush him in seven seconds flat. Of course, you could probably shoot him dead in less than that amount of time, but hey, Pei, you’re not a boring ass pragmatist, right? Right!

Super Galaxy Level Low Maintenance Level.
Should be obvious now, but come on, you know me! The guy who tries to get as much done with as little as possible! The one that purchases weapons capable only of Single-Shot mode, because he doesn’t want to waste bullets! The one that can take nutrient pills for a year straight and come out of it perfectly fine! Unlike all those silly-billies that need fancy automatic weapons, just watch me clean house with my MIKASA Five_Over Rifle OR my Ares Matter Blaster OR my Monomolecular Crafting Knife OR just consider the fact that I can do what other people do with power suits…without a power suit (at least when I go full Prec’Ilae on their ass. Pretty cost-efficient, right?

Now, there’s a whole bunch more I’d like to say, but the waiter’s giving me shit about ‘stealing’ the store’s Wi-Fi when I already ordered a glass of water, so yeah, bai bai darling~ Hope to hear some good news!

And by good news, I mean the fact that you’ll employ me as your first mate, because you value my amazing jury-rigging skills, my heart-meltingly handsome human face, my countless years of experience, my monstrously cost-effective combat capabilities, and, above all, the beautiful, ever-lasting friendship that we totally had together.


We did have that, right?

Surely you can't keep grudges for that long.
 
Pssshhh, 7.62mm master race get out pleb
But no they probably wouldn't still use the same caliber bullets in the spacefuture. We don't reference musket calibers nowadays. :B
At least he doesn't snore!
He may not snore but Pei is going to haaaaate him. It'll be hilarious.




Myuri Frey
Accepted! Well-written, nicely done, the ship now has a mechanic. :3




Let me know if there are things that are bothering you with the character sheet so I can fix it.
Oh ho ho, very well then~

So anyways, some introductions are at hand. My name is Lolita Harin. I'm twenty one and I am an Demorake, a humanoid alien with psychic power. Demorakes are curious creatures that mostly live in their homeworld on Eldrich. They mostly listen and are quite deadly at combat. They excel at quick speed to disarm and assassinate any enemies that would dare to harm other Demorakes or other allies. They're very protective to those who show them respect to others and themselves. They do not judge others for what they are or for their actions and we have been trustworthy for generations and we always strive to do good to others as long as they don't lie to us.
This strikes me as a bit off. Imagine you were writing a letter of introduction for yourself to an alien, and describing humanity. Would you talk about your own species like this? 'I'm a human. Humans are quirky creatures. They walk on two feet and do human things.'
We do not forgive those who lie to us, even for our own protection.
That's better, at least she's talking about her race with herself included. But this is more of a cultural trait than a racial one. Which brings me to my next point:

I'm twenty one and I am an Demorake, a humanoid alien with psychic power.
Compared to the Demorakes, I'm different from them.
Wut? It sounds like she's saying... she's not a Demorake. But that what she means is "I'm not like most girls Demorakes." And considering you made up the race, why have almost the entire race be one way... but her be an outlier? Are there really no other Demorakes who prefer not to wear burkas? Is that a cultural thing? Is her race one huge mono-culture? And she's one of the few non-conformists? Not saying she can't be, I just want to know if you've considered this stuff.

so don't be disappointed if I yell at you for lying for my protection.
This is a job application. If you were applying to a job would you put something like this in it? A spacecriminal might have need for lying and Pei would see that and say 'welp!' and move on to the next person.

trying to survive on food.
like ya do




(at least when I go full Prec’Ilae on their ass. Pretty cost-efficient, right?
You... you didn't close the parenthesis! Oh god, is the rest of the letter still parenthetical?!

Also hi Rodey. :3 Interesting character!



Replace his right forearm with a cybernetic one.
Okay http://i.imgur.com/76TTTea.png

Nice character but the competition is really heating up! Ya might want to try fleshing him out a bit more I dunno up to you!





Good stuff everyone so far! I think I'll keep applications open a couple more days to ensure everyone gets a chance to enter before making zee final decisions! If you find yourself with extra time and want to increase your odds of getting in you are more than welcome to create additional characters to submit! You don't have to by any means, just wanted to make sure people knew that was an option and not against the rules or anything.[/hr][/hr][/hr][/hr]
 
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@Insomnant

Sweet! I'm probably going to put in a few edits to flesh out her background a little more, but that should be all.

With all these people with competent piloting experience though, we'll probably have enough for a full flight crew for a bloody battlecruiser, heh.
 
Alright, considering additional interest in this has greatly slowed down, I've decided to tentatively set the end time of the sign-up period for tomorrow evening. Now if someone comes along and expresses interest to submit a character sheet I might give them one more day, but we're getting close to starting the game!

As a side note, I updated the second post of this thread to add in some background information about the setting- you are free to use it when crafting your characters' backstories if you'd like! Otherwise it can always come up later in the form of adversaries or employers or allies or obstacles or whatnot!
 

[roleplay=silver]
"What in stars is this contraption? Speak in it? AHEM AHEM! Hello children! This is your broodmother! Though I am far, far away now thanks to those criminals who saw fit to lift me away from you under the guise of 'law,' rest assure I am finding my way back as I speak! Or strictly speaking, after I speak. Yes, some of you may be worrying about my lacking sense of direction, my inability to stay focused without getting distracted by whatever glints under the sun, and that I've relied upon the brood for all sources of food, but do not fret! I am the largest of our species, and though it seems every other creature in space appears to be bigger than I, they do not measure up to our strength! Hold fast, broodlings! Your broodmother will return to you! Even if it means I must get what these other creatures call, 'a job.' Know this-- what did you call it again? A broadcast? Hmm, well, if you say so-- broadcast reaches you with the highest esteem!"


[/roleplay]
[fieldbox="GC Files, crimson, dashed, 10, Impact"]Criminal Record
Entry 416E74


Name: Broodmother
Aliases: None
Race: Ant-Person
Sex: Female
Age: Specific Unknown, Old Age
Eyes: Dark-Grey
Hair: Red
Build: Small
Weight: 100 lbs.
Height: 5'0"
Located: Colony Planet

Criminal Offenses:
Leading Criminal Syndicate associated with multiple counts of:
> Petty Larceny
> Grand Larceny

Notes:
This species is usually small in size,
please be aware of uncanny strength.
If injured, will bleed colorless liquid,
please be aware.

[/fieldbox]

[stabs=bcenter|456x300]
{slide=What Did You Just Make?|center}There are some people who really need to get out of their little, closed communities and see the world. Broodmother is not one of them. In fact, an Ant as old as she probably should have lived a blissful life in her little colony. Unfortunately, when you make apparent to your entire brood that you absolutely love shiny things, and they go out and try and impress you by bringing all the shiny things they can get their grubby little hands on, a lot can go badly! What do I mean by badly? Well, something along the lines of the GC come to arrest you for being a 'crime syndicate leader' badly!

Luckily for Broodmother, a mix of strength and luck granted her temporary freedom! Too bad she had no idea where she was. And unlike her colony, these creatures she encountered asked for, 'money,' for anything. Well, she was a broodmother, but not of these things. After eating her pride, she realized she'd have to get her hands on this money. A little bit of asking told her 'a job' was how most people got money. Fortunately for this Ant, she came right across a job ad.

Perfect! She would use this 'a job' to make money, and then she would pay her passage back to her colony! Brilliant! A solid ever plan if there was one!

{/slide}
[/stabs]
*Note the picture is an edited
version of what I found online,
all credit goes to creator of said
image.
 
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Rosa Drago

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Rosa is a combination of a (presumably) human host and a sentient, parasitic plant. At this point, the two are combined so closely that any attempt at removal would be lethal to both parties. Most people refer to individuals like her as dryads, although the appellation only refers to humanoid members of her race, such as it is. The actual plant can safely infect just about anything, including other plants, and can thus take a wide variety of often monstrous forms. Given that they are also often carnivorous and have few qualms about eating (or implanting their children into) other sentient species, they're usually left well enough alone where they choose to grow, if not treated as monsters.

Overall, it's not a terrible existence. Rosa can supplement her diet with photosynthesis, and is fairly hardy in overall constitution. She doesn't produce more oxygen than she needs to take in for her metabolism, but she is less of a drain on a ship's life-support systems than most aerobic lifeforms...although the occasional pollen release can be an added burden for air scrubbers.

While one might expect a patient and methodical, if not outright slow mindset from a plant, Rosa is fairly sharp and quick-witted. She's left her home "garden" out of a semi-instinctual wanderlust which is part of her species' drive to spread itself over a large area. She would, presumably, one day like to settle down somewhere, put down some roots, and bloom. But until that happens, or she otherwise becomes a happy housewife, she's more than content to wander the starways as a free agent. Her primary skill set is as a communications officer for a starship. It was the profession of her host before whatever incident led to her infection and subsequent rebirth, and she continues to be quite good at the job. She is also quite adept at hacking and electronic warfare, which are pretty useful skills for any totally above-board starship to have. It would be terrible if some pirate vessel managed to hack into your ship's systems and win the battle before even firing a single shot, after all. She has some skill in hand-to-hand combat and marksmanship, like any competent spacer who's already survived her share of fights.

She owns a few sets of clothes and a basic (and well-patched) vac suit bearing Moriacabri science officer insignia. She doesn't currently own a lot of heavy ordinance, just a fairly basic laser rifle and a needler, complete with the usual combination of various and sundry types of ammunition laced with drugs and toxins, for a sidearm. Her body has a fairly standard set of cybernetic implants for direct neural interface and cyberspace operations, that have been carefully retooled to function normally despite her condition.

Pros:
* Lacks many of the fairly monstrous advantages sometimes seen in her kind, such as sharp cutting blades or claws, production of unusual drugs or toxins, ability to projectile vomit acidic sap, or other such abilities.
* Competent, adaptable, and good with computers.
* Reduced life-support burden.
* Always smells pleasant.

Cons:
*
May be some sort of honey trap.
* Probably didn't eat her original crew or anything.
* Lacks many of the fairly monstrous advantages sometimes seen in her kind, such as sharp cutting blades or claws, production of unusual drugs or toxins, ability to projectile vomit acidic sap, or other such abilities.
* Pollen may aggravate allergies.
* Difficult to treat medically; some autodocs may be unable to handle her physiology entirely.
 
I was wondering when you'd show up, R-9.
 
I was wondering when you'd show up, R-9.
Last minute, as it turns out! =P

Alrighty everyone! The sign-up period has now ended! The results are as follows:

Accepted Characters
Pei Emi Mao "Spacekitsune captainpants" 4'9" @Insomnant
Frey Frey "Technomantic spacedeerelf" 5'0" @Click This
Tick "Russian Rustbucket Robutt" 6'5" @Sir Pinkleton
Venom "The lone human male except for when he's a monster" 6'0" @ERode
Broodmother "Queen without a(nt) court" 5'0" @Kal
Rosa Drago "Walking allergy generator" 5'8" @R-9 Pilot


And that's it. Five is my absolute max as far as players go but I wanted to extend an offer to @Doc as the runner up- your writing is great and your character solid, just not as interesting as the others I'm afraid. But if anyone ever has to quit or disappears on us I'd love to have you join us if you'd like to at that time. If not I fully understand, but the option is there.


To everyone else, thanks for the submissions. You were not accepted. Best of luck in your future roleplaying endeavors!


Okay! If your character has been accepted you are now free to post in the IC Thread! Have your characters all show up at once, lines are for suckers! Pei will give you a group interview so don't worry 'bout that! And this goes without saying but if you'd like to do some sort of creative arrival go right ahead! You have as much control over the environment and setting as you need to make things interesting~ :3
 
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We should've had a Miss Universe style way of announcing who made it in where Pei reads the names one by one from a little card and there's lots of ugly crying and smeared make-up.
 
We should've had a Miss Universe style way of announcing who made it in where Pei reads the names one by one from a little card and there's lots of ugly crying and smeared make-up.
And she needs to get one wrong winner, of course!
 
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Reactions: Pinkleton
"O-Oh... I'm sorry it seems... it seems there was a mistake. The real winner was umm... Tick... the Russian Rustbucket Robutt. My sincerest apologies."

"[Suck it, fleshie.]"
 
  • Nice Execution!
Reactions: Izurich
Oh hey, I noticed a good number of us are on Skype. Would anybody be up for a chat group?
 
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