Venty

With all I've interacted with his characters, be it as Ririlsk or Andre? It's an extremely easy +1 from me.

Osisra... where do I begin? In the last few months as Ririlsk, I've had a lot of contact with Osisra and the lore behind her clan, and it all points to one thing: she's a great character that adds to both the server and the players on it. While gruff and more than bit rough to most, she's got a good balance of being just likeable enough to want around and just unlikeable enough to drive conflict. I always enjoy seeing her in the round- and hey, without the Devorask, my own character's arc would've likely not developed as it had. So I can majorly appreciate that! She's also got a presence that I feel some Command are lacking. While she may occasionally reach beyond what her authority is, she does so in a way that feels right and makes sense, and doesn't do it often. Her presence often drives events during Extended and antag rounds, and her ability to lead is well-needed in the quiet rounds. All in all? A great character. Also auntie now. Ha.

Frank, throughout the years I've played alongside his characters, has shown time and time again to be a great roleplayer. Be it back in the day when I interacted with him as Kelsaso and co., or in the current day as Nikita and Ririlsk, I always see him making great characters and running them perfectly. They're flawed and have their issues, they have their strengths and their morals, everything. He brings a certain energy to the round that reminds me of the first days I came around the server, back during the Tide. The app is good, though I do have to ask how Ajax came to be with Orion Express, seeing how the backstory doesn't really go into that other than an open-ended exploration of what he can do with his newfound freedom. How did he come into the corporation? Other than that, this is an easy +1.

Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Charon Marston let his foot drop onto the wooden floor wordlessly. And for a moment, he didn't raise it back up. Then... Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. The doctor had said, back then, that doing these exercises would keep his thighs healthy. Get him used to the new legs, figure out how to use them properly. Get past old habits. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. He hadn't been a fan of it back then. It was a waste of time, making him focus on something he didn't want to think about. It felt like he was being treated like some helpless child. Like he couldn't do something as possible as bringing his legs up. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. He could've stopped years ago. His body was used to having metal legs. He was used to it. But something about the exercise just helped in a different way. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Working hard hours in space and in atmosphere, mining away at unused and forgotten worlds with nothing but a pickaxe and time left him exhausted. It made what was left of his bones feel like lead, and the prosthetics that kept him walking like obsidian. Certainly didn't help his lungs or heart, that was for sure. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Everyday, he woke up and did these exercises before he left. Because something about it helped work off the exhaustion of yesterday and the temptation of going back to sleep. It gave him a schedule he didn't used to have. Something to follow when all he wanted to do was drop. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. It was just something he had to do now. Not because he was told to, but because he wanted to. Because it helped him wake up, get ready and face the day. The alarm clock his body needed. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. Whir-thunk. If only his legs didn't make so much noise doing it.

The data was December 9th, 2465. For everyone else on the tiny salvager ship he called home and work, that date meant nothing. It was just another work day, floating through space, looking for a new place to pull apart at the seams. They got their gear on, sat in the breakroom listening to whatever was on the local radio chatter and waited for the ship to come to a stop. Just another day with Orion Express. But it meant something else for him. Ririlsk Guwan hung off the side of his cot in a wordless silence. Unlike his coworkers, he wasn't working today. He had the entire day off- twenty four hours all to himself, to do as he pleased with what amenities he and the ship had. A rarity for him, as he always took to shift whenever he could help it. If there was work to be done, he was at the front of the line with a crowbar and wrench in each hand. But not today. Not on December 9th. Sitting there on the edge of his cot, Ririlsk found his gaze locked on the photo he had gently in his claws. It was an old thing, frayed at the edges and beginning to lose its color. It was held in a simple wooden frame, carved by him years ago. He remembered when it was taken. It was their first day on the job. They had finally gotten accepted into the Baandr branch of the Miners' Guild, at the age of seventeen. They had all come in with a pep in their step and an eager swing to their tails, heads held high. Their mentors, shooting each other a look, had asked all of them to come together for a photo. "It is tradition," they had said, "to commemorate new arrivals, so that they may never be forgotten." It seemed so silly to him at the time. It was only now he knew how much it had meant. They were all standing close together, dressed in brand-new jumpsuits with their clan's mantles hanging off of their shoulders. To the left of the photo was X'liz- A tall and strong, with sharp features that made him look more like a dragon than a sinta. The perpetual neutral expression that he always wore had been traded for the smallest hint of a smile. But it wasn't in the smile he could tell the pride he felt. It was those golden eyes of his. Even these days, those golden eyes still shone bright. To the right of the photo was Ekana- short and wide, with rounded features that almost resembled a snake if you twisted your head right. A wide toothy grin accompanied a peace sign, hanging off of the shoulder of the figure in the middle. He had always been open with what he was feeling, especially back then. He brought a certain energy to the group that him and X'liz lacked. Ekana wasn't like that anymore. He wasn't even sure Ekana was around anymore. And right in the middle of the photo, with a quiet grin and a nervous look, was him. He looked better back then- his scales still shined back then, and although he had never been the most outgoing, he had always tried to keep himself in shape. It was far from the physique he had now, but for the time? He was rather fit. There was a light in his eyes he didn't see anymore. He felt his claws tighten around the frame. Like an iron vice beginning to close, his grip grew stronger and stronger with each moment. The wood, old and fragile, began to warp under his strength. His hands shook as he stared deeper and deeper into what he used to be, something cold in his chest growing exponentially by the second. The barracks around him fell away, the gentle hum of ventilation and the taste of recycled air disappearing in an instant. The date was December 9th, 2465. Today was the day he had hatched, all those years ago. Just as he felt the wood nearly begin to give in, he stopped. He stared into the red eyes that looked back at him from the photo, filled with an eagerness and hope that he no longer held, and felt... Hollow. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, simply staring at that old photo. It could've been less than a minute. It could've been hours. He didn't know. He didn't care. It was only when he felt like he was being watched that the world returned and he tore his eyes away from him. From the airlock, regarding him with a blank expression, was another sinta. He was around the same height as himself, with dark green scales and a cobra's making to him. He was dressed in overalls, with the joints of a RIG formed around and under his shoulders. An old Hephaestus veteran that had made the switch to Orion when it had come to be, he was told. The older salvager had more than a few years seniority over him, and most days, simply ignored him. But that was fine. He expected it. He was Guwan, after all. For a time, the sinta regarded him silently. There was a small package in his left hand, wrapped in the brown shipping paper they used occasionally. A latent fear took hold that made him remain still, one that often took him when other sinta kept their attention on him. One that demanded he not dare even breath in their direction, let alone speak. After a moment, the sinta moved to close the distance. He stepped forward with heavy bootfalls, and stopped only a few feet away. And with a small flick of the wrist, dropped the package into his lap. Barely keeping himself from jumping, Ririlsk glanced down at the item. He set aside the frame of the photo onto the bed, and with careful hands, took up the package. "I'm told today is your hatching day, Guwan." The older sinta remarked in a matter-of-fact way. He glanced up, and after a moment, nodded. "Y-yes... yes, i-it is, sir." The sinta hummed and nodded. "Then that is for you." And without another word, he turned around and left as quickly as he had come. The airlock hissed as he moved back out into the hall, and left Ririlsk alone once more. Staring at the airlock for a moment more, his attention turned back to the tiny brown package in his lap. Gingerly picking it up, he pulled a claw across the top of the paper. It tore easily, coming off with only a few tugs afterwards to reveal... A red and black cloth. For a minute, he simply stared at it in silence. Then, before he realized it, something on his face felt wet. He wiped at it with his free hand, and flinched when he came back with a wet sleeve. Then the obvious realization hit him. He was crying. He shouldn't be. He knew he shouldn't be. It was a waste of time and energy. And he was supposed to be enjoying himself today. That's what everyone says he should be doing on his hatching day. But he didn't really care right now, he realized. Ririlsk gingerly took the bandana and placed it onto the picture frame next to him. And with careful hands, he brought both over to the small bed table next to his cot. There they sat, before he allowed himself to lay down onto the bed. Today was his day off. His hatching day. One day he was supposed to be happy. But today was not a happy day. Today would be a day to mourn. Today was the day he mourned for someone who wasn't anymore.

Hi, all. In recent months I've been trying to make a return to the server after a few years of hiatus, and as always, I've grown curious as to what people think of my characters. Thus, figured I'd make an updated thread from the one I had... what, four years ago? Five? I forget. It's been a really long time. Basically, whatever you think about my characters, my roleplay, and my ideas? Throw them here. I welcome everything. Here's the characters I play as of late: Ririlsk Guwan: A shaft miner working with Orion, originating from Moghes and a (technical) citizen of the Hegemony. An exile to his people and rather lost in the current day with how to proceed, he mines and works and lives as he needs to while trying to keep a semblance of the normality he's started to adopt. Jesse Quinn: A cargo technician working with Orion, from an unremarkable family and business out in the Coalition of Colonies. Just a normal guy, trying to do work despite an injury to his person. Andre Tric: A security officer with Eagle Corp of the PMCG, fresh out of Jintarian Venus with hopes of getting somewhere and a will to prove himself. Still new and still getting used to space, though he's found some friends on the ship. Of course, I have old characters too. Ventus Dagna, Rebecca Holand, Alexia Avanes, Azuksi. If you have anything to say on anyone, go ahead. I won't say no. And just for the record, if you want to be harsh, be harsh. I welcome all criticism and skepticism. I view it as integral to my improvement as a character and story writer.

At the very edge of his vision, something moved. Whirling about, James aimed the end of his accelerator off into the darkness. The light from his suit illuminated the asteroid in front of him, revealing... nothing. Just rock, stone and his own footprints. 'Just a trick o' the mind, kid', he heard O'Malley assure him over the radio. 'The dark's messin' with ya. Relax, put on yer lantern, and get back to it. We got's a quota t' meet.' James sighed, and turned back to the rocky wall. 'Yeah, of course sir.' Shifting his stance to hold the accelerator against his shoulder, he took in a breath of recycled oxygen and... The gun kicked as he pressed the trigger, and he watched as a portion of what used to be near-impenetrable asteroid disintegrated under the concentrated force of a dozen megapascals, if not more. All that remained were mere particles, floating harmlessly in the void as he stepped forward. Blast after blast shattered through the rock in front and around him, only pausing to give him a chance to pull his box with him as he advanced. With each boom, he saw specks of his prizes flow from the stone- coal, hematite, galena, bauxite. And in-between those, he saw the blue sparkles that radiated through his HUD: his real goal. Turning his gun towards the closest of the indicators, he hesitated for only a moment before pulling the trigger. The rock caved in, and from it, bits and pieces of glittering yellow floated around and towards him. He lowered the gun and took one of the larger chunks in hand. In the voidsuit's light, reflected in his visor, was a solid chunk of raw gold. He grinned. This was the first time he'd ever gotten to ever hold gold, let alone find it. Turning around, he shoved the chunk into the massive box of ore behind him, and got to collecting the rest. Specks and fragments floated all around him, and each wave of the ore bag he had been given got more and more. It seemed like he- In one of the pieces, he saw the reflection of something moving fast. James scrambled to turn around and bring his accelerator up, but it was too late. Before he knew it, something latched onto his arm and tore. He screamed as a fish seemingly larger than his head and with teeth sharper than the pick on his hip tried its damnedest to tear his arm out and off. The accelerator tumbled out of his hands and floated out of reach, leaving him scrambling for the machete at his other hip. His arm burned in an indescribable way as he felt the joints of his voidsuit strain under the assault, not helped by his wild movements or the fish's thrashing. After a moment, he managed to rip the machete from its sheath and swung as hard as he could manage at the fish's head. His blow struck true and caved into the carp's head, sending blood all over and splattering onto his visor. Blinded, yet still feeling the wild thrashing of the now-wounded fish on his arm, he swung again and again until he felt the thing let go. 'James, the hell happened over there?!' James heard O'Malley shout as he swiped the blood off his visor. With his vision clear, he got the clear sight of the carp's bloodied and ruined corpse floating away from him, the shaking hand that still held the machete firmly in his grasp- And the torn, leaking end of his voidsuit's arm, now exposed to the vacuum. All at once, he felt the air and pressure in his suit begin to dissipate, and before he even knew what he was doing, he ran. Even after a few seconds, he felt the effects- his arm felt like it was on fire and frozen solid, and it was only getting worse. He vaguely heard his coworker shout for him again over the radio as he sprinted through the rocky tunnels, held down only by the magboot's suction on the ground. The ship wasn't far off. He didn't go far. He could make it. Blood pulsed and flowed from his arm as it began to fully depressurize, the water that made up his core beginning to boil as he saw the airlock of the tiny shuttle they had flown in on. It seared, the pain making his vision go bright as he tried to stumble forward and hit the cycle valve. Only for his world to burn as he felt something hit him from behind and latch on to his neck. In those final moments, just as he hit the valve, he swore he saw a bladed limb cut along the throat of his suit. And in those final moments, he swore he felt it tear through.

There is no greater disgrace than to be named Guwan. Many non-sinta have questioned me in the past as to what it means to be a Guwan. They ask what power such a title could have over me, and why I allow it to rule me as it does now. And my answer to that question is always the same: "The power comes in the name's meaning: Exile." One's clan is everything to a sinta. It is their family, their brothers and sisters in life and death. It is their community, who you work and worship alongside. It is their life, from which all pursuits and goals revolve around. It defines you, gives you purpose, gives you meaning. To be named Guwan is to be cast off from that. You lose your family. You lose your community. You lose your life. You lose anything and everything that has made you up to that point, and are left adrift in a society that now looks upon you with nothing but scorn. There is no salvation in the hands of another, nor sanctuary from the cruel universe that we live in. There is only torment and agony, brought at the hands of others. And as in life, as in death. To die a Guwan is to never know the glory of the Beastlands. Never will you meet your ancestors and hear their stories. Never will you see the glory of Sk'akh and become one with them. Never will you hunt and feast to your heart's content upon the fattest and most worthwhile of beasts. The only future you will know in the afterlife as a Guwan will be the burning sands and searing metal of the Chained Lands, and the torment of those who have given in to its agony. Do you understand now? To be named Guwan is to be cast off from all that makes you, and to lose all hope for that which is yet to come. You lose your past, you lose your present, and most importantly, you lose your future. There is nothing for a Guwan in this life or the next. Nothing. And yet, despite this nothingness, there is a slight hope. For even a Guwan may be redeemed, through effort or mercy. I have seen it happen. I have seen those deemed damned by all brought back into the blessed fold of a clan, and given purpose again. For some rare few of us, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. It is for this reason that I work endlessly. I put myself through the hardest work and suffer the greatest indignities to see myself redeemed in the eyes of my peers. Every agony and every pain serve this purpose. My silence as I am beaten senseless and my reticence when I am shouted down serve this purpose. The sacrifice of my hopes and my dreams to see others rise up serve this purpose. Put me through it all. Beat me, break me, shatter me into a million pieces. See my soul scarred and burned, and my pride hung by the neck. See the end to all that makes me, that I may see the light at the end of this cold tunnel and know the warmth of redemption when all is said and done. Take me upon the long jagged road to redemption. I am ready.

I heavily agree with this. There have been so many times where I was out as Ririlsk, got into some emergency, and was stuck in place without any way to contact the Horizon (asteroids destroying power, injuries making it impossible to fly, glitches with flying make it impossible to leave a place or planet). I always had to hope that someone would notice. Having a way to send off an emergency signal or a distress beacon would help so much. One thing that could help is maybe splitting things between a major distress beacon, and a pre-recorded signal that can be sent to the Horizon? Like, a message over the Command or Hailing radio saying something along the lines "An error, issue or abnormal circumstance has left [insert shuttle here] in potentially dangerous circumstances. Assistance required."

Reporting Personnel: Ririlsk Guwan Job Title of Reporting Personnel: Shaft Miner, Orion Game ID: cwr-c801 Personnel Involved: - Brox Raagat, Shaft Miner - Offender - HI-B #10.076 - Oro, Shaft Miner - Offender - Mya, Stationbound - Witness Secondary Witnesses: - N/A Time of Incident: Sometime between 22:20 and shift end. Real Time: Around 2:20pm to 3:10pm, MST. Location of Incident: SCCV Spark, on transit to Salvage Site Nature of Incident: [X] - Workplace Hazard [ ] - Accident/Injury [ ] - Destruction of Property [ ] - Neglect of Duty [ ] - Harassment [X] - Assault [X] - Misconduct [ ] - Other _____ (Place an x in the box that applies. If other, replace line and specify.) Overview of the Incident: During transit to a salvage site located in the sector we were mining and salvaging in, Miner Raagat had apparently brought on a bottle of booze with him to drink on the way to the site. I was unaware of this as I was focused on flying the Spark at the time, but Miner Oro and Stationbound Mya had apparently noticed during the flight. An argument sparked while I was flying, and just as we arrived to the salvage site, Shaft Miner Oro took the bottle and smashed it against the air canister of the Spark. This sent Miner Raagat into something of a rage, resulting in a verbal fight. I attempted to get the two of them to sit down- admittedly raising my own voice in the process- but to no avail. I launched us onto the salvage site and attempted to get them to follow me into the airlock and drop the argument. It was no use, as Miner Raagat then began to attack Miner Oro. Thanks to Miner Oro being a G2, this did not result in significant injury- at least, until Miner Oro began to retailiate. While he said he was "pulling his punches", he still continued to fight and injure Miner Raagat until he got a hold on his neck and threw him back into the shuttle, before beginning to shift the airlock towards external. Frustrated, I took to salvaging on site, but in that time, the two had apparently gotten into seperate situations. Miner Oro had gotten lost on the site, and Miner Raagat attempted to restart the fight over the radio. This ultimately led me to call an early end to the salvage after retrieving a canister of phoron, and ordering both miners back to the Spark in turn. Though there was some difficulty in retrieving Miner Oro, who had gotten lost even further on the site, both were eventually brought back and we made for the Horizon. However, by the time we arrived, the shift was ending. Thus, I was only able to inform command partially of the incident. I don't think it would be unfair to say that this was an incredibly unprofessional incident. The fact that Miner Raagat even had booze on the ship while on the job was bad enough, but that Oro started a fight by breaking the bottle was even worse. The fight was completely out of line- we are here to mine and salvage. Our job is not to scream over every inconvience. The fact that a Hephtestaus-Owned IPC, and a Buerzian IPC at that, was engaging in a fight that it had ultimately started is even worse. Is this what we have to offer to the Spur, as part of the flagship of the SCC? Miners that drink while actively working, and that fight over the smallest things? Submitted Evidence: Unfortunately, due to the sudden nature of the incident and the isolation provoked by being away from the Horizon on a salvage job, I didn't have my recorder on me as I usually do. However, Stationbound Mya should have recording and audio on it's system. Would you like to be personally interviewed?: [X] - Yes [ ] - No Did you report it to a Head of Staff or a superior? If so, who? If not, why?: Research Director Ivory Levi and Bridge Crewman Paskaf Sivenka were informed over holocall partially of the incident, but issues with navigational gear on the Spark made it impossible to land in time to fully inform. Actions taken: Due to the shift ending just as we got back, I was unable to fully inform command and thus no action was taken on shift. Additional Notes: N/A

oh hell naw the dagone IPC gone imperial 💀

You know what, I'm gonna +1 an app for once! Happy_Fox has been a great roleplayer for as long as I've known them, and I got some great moments because of them. However, I do got one question 1. What's their thoughts on the clanless factions? (Guwans, Wasters, Gawgawrn)

After months, the reply comes... On a serious note, don't feel obligated if other matters require attention. We can wait patiently!

It's so sad that the lizards died of starvation... no updates to feed them...

I've had quite a few experiences with Flpfs' characters, with almost all of them being enjoyable or developing some sort of story in some way! It was a pleasure helping out with this, and I look forward to interacting with waster-boy right here. That being said, I do actually have ONE question: has some of the habits he developed while in the Wasteland and with the Ozeuoi transferred over to his life in Biesel? If so, what and how?

THIS. This is what I was trying to explain in earlier posts, but I was trying to give it some sort of lore background to justify it. It's just a fluff blindfold with prescription qualities, as if you just replaced the sprite for glasses with a blindfold instead. This is what I was basing the idea off of. After all, the I-Patch works for just one eye, so why wouldn't there be one for both? Ultimately, I'm using the idea of the I-Patch as a justification for this item's existance, and I was trying to explain it as if it was like the I-Patch, but for both eyes.

The intention was for more well-to-do individuals, such as Moghean/Dominian nobles or other affluent groups, to use these as an alternative to prosthetics. And, considering they are essentially removable eyes in a blindfold, I do imagine it would be rather expensive compared to normal prosthetic eyes, as you would probably have to be much more careful with the design in order for it to function properly.

I understand the first bit about how Dominians deal with prosthetics, I wanted to provide this as an alternative that wasn't a prosthetic. However, I have a slight problem with the second concern: there isn't a functional blind disability you can select in character creation. The only one that's like that is nearsightedness, and that's what I was basing the function off fixing.

I disagree. Functionally, as said in the original post, it would just be a reskin of normal glasses, like how the I-Patch functions in-game. In addition, the style would not exactly be something everyone and anyone could use for their characters: it's something that would fit more in line with Dominian and Moghean culture rather than in-general use.

The idea for using a blindfold instead of something like what you use for your Dominian was more for style, in fitting with certain cultures. Plus, the idea was to allow for characters that would be COMPLETELY blind to be played, instead of someone who just has a really bad case of nearsightedness. Plus, more variety in the eye-wear section.

Essentially, yes. It's just a version of the I-Patch that covers both eyes instead of just one.

As the name implies, this blindfold would essentially be a reskin of normal glasses + blindfold, and would function how the I-Patch works for characters: providing sight for the blind/nearsighted without directly using mechanical or prosthetic eyes. The idea for this would be to allow for blind characters that cannot normally take on mechanical eyes without scrutiny or ridicule, such as Dominians or Unathi, a method from which they could see (and, in turn, allow them to be playable) without violating their societal rules and expectations. I would personally do this project myself, but I lack the necessary coding knowledge myself to do it. So, under the suggestion of Geeves, I'm posting this idea to the Suggestions topic instead.

After some discussion with the handling CCIA member, It would be appreciated if this IR was binned/closed.

Reporting Personnel: Ririlsk Guwan Job Title of Reporting Personnel: Shaft Miner Game ID: b0e-dfhi Personnel Involved: - Buck Thomson, Cargo Technician: Victim - Sam Orleens, Cargo Technician: Offender - Alex Yammato, Drill Technician: Offender - Johanna Clarkson, Cargo Technician: Witness Secondary Witnesses: - N/A Time of Incident: N/A Real Time: Between 12 and 3:30pm, PST. Location of Incident: NSS Aurora, Cargo Department Nature of Incident: [ ] - Workplace Hazard [ ] - Accident/Injury [ ] - Destruction of Property [ ] - Neglect of Duty [ X ] - Harassment [ X ] - Assault [ X ] - Misconduct [ X ] - Other: Slander, Slandering with Intent to Shame (Place an x in the box that applies. If other, replace line and specify.) Overview of the Incident: Nearing halfway into the shift, Technician Orleens and Drill Technician Yammato repeatedly alleged that Technician Thomson had previously sexually assaulted and harassed Sam Orleens, as while as alleging that Thomson was a xenophile and had gone after other members of the crew. In both occasions, Yammato and Orleens did so in a public space, surrounded by coworkers, and refused to give evidence nor back up their accusations in public, which has lead me to believe that the two are attempting to slander and ruin the reputation of Buck Thomson. It can also be noted that, early in the shift, Yammato and Orleens threatened violence against Thomson, and I have previously seen Yammato attack Thomson on a few differing occasions, often for small offenses or mistakes. This behavior is not only wrong, but actively attempts to ruin the reputation and livelihood of Thomson, while also being extremely damaging towards crew moral in these stressful times. Submitted Evidence: N/A Did you report it to a Head of Staff or a superior? If so, who? If not, why?: I was unable to contact any of command due to unrelated incidents occurring across the station. Actions taken: Due to unrelated incidents occurring across the station, no actions were able to be taken. Additional Notes: N/A