Gr33d

Nik here I feel deserves a trial personally. They are a good RPer and I can see them playing a decent head.

The attending physician idea is genuis! Currently I have always felt physicians are in a weird place. It's really nice to have them around, but without them, sadly, a first responder can just do their job passively as long as theirs not much else going on. Having a single role based on watching patients and making sure they are all not dying however, sounds genuinely wonderful. I do have concerns about how surgery would be treated however after a split. People who wish to still do no surgery, how will they differ from the AP? It seems like they would have less authority and not much to do unless the AP is not working, or there's a whole station of people in the medbay. Still, I think the change would be for the best as atm physicians are in a weird place.

I very much second this option on adding a warppack and beacon to mining. Not only would this make mining more fun but also makes more sense. On station you could go mining for like 5 mins, go in grab the upgrades and leave for your usual shift but thats not only harder, but more painful to do on the shuttle. That said, mining with the shuttle is a ton of fun. Also, the mining shuttle can actually reach a really good speed without having to spam the button, you just need to get a good fuel mix with Co2 (Just spreading this knowledge because that thing zooms with Co2 in it), although this is not always an option and when its not driving it can be a massive pain. Spawning with a small Co2 tank or something could be a good compromise, as just hydrogen feels like something is broken with how slow it is to move.

that would be correct yes, by shuttle I was referring to a pod or something along those lines as I've heard people call the mining pod a shuttle, myself included. Sorry for the confusion.

Fair enough then. only thing I can think of is having first responders having easier access to teleporters, but I imagine that is not an option. If there's nothing else to add I imagine the thread can be closed.

A few moments ago I was talking in Dchat and someone asked if there was an ambulance for first responders to save miners if they get stuck out there. While it does seem like a bit much for a rare situation, I feel its an important feature never the less. Adding this shuttle, that would be rather tiny I imagine, would add a way for First responders to assist people who are EVA without needing to use the giant intrepid shuttle, usually requiring setup and at least a bridge crew member to work. If for some reason the intrepid also left without a medic and was found needing one the ambulance could be used there as well. I imagine the ambulance would be absolutely tiny and fast with very limited fuel to start out with. Two seats, an airlock and an area for the injured party to lay. Would hopefully be enough.

I love the idea of this item. Personally Ive been using taffy as a way to socially eat with other xenos as a vaurca so im glad to hear im not the only one! +1. Hopefully as well these flavors of taffy (not the shaped ones you have of course) Could be added as other food items for vaurca to share as not everyone likes the taste of bittersweet insect meat and regret.

Yes!! More titan prime dionae! I loved the backstory personally. This gets a nice cool plus one from me. Also, Holy moly that donner looks cool.

In 2440CE, A gross hairless being, no older than one years old, was dropped off in the cold snow on the side of a road on the outskirts of Shastar City in a raggedy grey blanket. For a good half hour, they laid there, crying in pain, before they were found by a young Mistling and ran with haste to their chapel. The scrawny, near dead looking baby cries out with hushed, ever quieter screams as they are placed on the table for the sun sisters to look over. All watching expect the child to be dead soon, and some try to tend to it, warming up this scraggly creature with extra robes and blankets, along with trying to find food for the critter until medical personnel could arrive. At this point it was found that the child, named Geall'adh Mor by the Mistling that found them had a case of dornskhy. His body lacking any fur and being sensitive to the sun and cold both, the Mistling, named Tan'ja Mor would try their best to keep them alive as long as they could. Expecting that to only be a few years or so, based on the poor treatment they seemingly received before they were found. This was not a selfless act however, Tan'ja Mor expected to only be burdened by the creature for only a few years, and while she planned to care for Geall'adh like a son for those years, she selfishly hoped that soon, she could move on from him. Once taken to the nearest clinic the young boy, now around eight years old, removes their bandages from their arm. The doctor looks them over and finds their skin is cracking much less than normal. "The treatment is working just fine." The doctor says, looking over the boy once more checking their breathing. "The breathing is better too! You are free to walk home now, just be quick! We don't want another burn like last time." The doctor jokes, applying fresh bandages to their skin. The boy hops off the table and walks into the lobby to find Tan'ja, now a Sun Sister that accompanies them to their appointments. She pulls up his hood on his jacket and give him a warm smile, before taking his hand and leaving out the door. While the condition was better than it was in the past, due to the constant treatment after the year of near neglect they had as an infant, this was about as good as it was going to get. Dornskhy was not known for getting better with age, and needed constant treatment to be in any way manageable. Soon after the revolution however, the treatment would slowly get more and more rare, cheaper, and sometimes skipped, although, never for too long. They arrive home, and the boy walks to their room, closing and locking the door. It is the boys eleventh birthday today, yet they arrive home to no fanfare or cake, the revolution has left the temple with no money for things like that, and even less time. They were hardly able to afford the skin treatment this year, and they get the feeling they won't be able to in the future. The war only just started, and already they were hardly able to afford the care they needed. The boy pouts in their dim room, they lay on their bare bed, and wait for the day to end. They lay, nightmares swim around the young boys mind, like fish, gnawing at his every thought. The temple had far more responsibilities in this new, revolting world. New orphans, less donations, less doctors close by, and the hospitals and clinics were full. The boy lay, consumed with the thoughts that they only burdened the temple, and they would be far better off without him. The dornskhy was treated with the same quality one would need to allow for a reasonable quality of life for about a year after the second revolution had started, however, as more mouths to feed showed up, and less money was being donated, the treatment became a more stale, type of treatment. One that allowed the patient to live, but deteriorate over time, getting worse, and worse. They awake to a wheezing noise, and a pain in their lungs. The peel themselves out of bed and go to the bathroom to cough up what they can only assume is whatever mucus has built up in their lungs last night. Them and their friends were out, celebrating his 16th birthday. Whatever they did is now a fog of drinking, yelling, and excitement. In their enjoyment, they must have forgotten to take their medication. They wobble back to their bedroom take their tray of medicine, change their bandages, and walk to their window to shut their blinds so the sun wont burn them as they sleep. Crawling back into bed, they lay there for what feels like hours, before falling asleep, into a deep slumber. His dreams are filled with memories of his friends, he really only had three, but they meant the world to him. They would often wheel him out to hang out with them at night, when the sun would not dare kiss his skin. Often, the rabble rousers would be simply talking, or getting some food during times where it was safe to, but they always looked out for their ugly little friend. Maybe they pity them, maybe they just enjoyed their conversations, but regardless, he did not feel like a burden around his friends, who, at least, always seemed happy to see them, and visited often. They are 17 now, and air raid sirens begin to wail out their sinister scream. Its a bombing run. The temple is in a frenzy, making sure everyone is evacuating to the bunker. Geall'adh wakes up to the panic, and manages to stick his head up to see Tan'ja rush in to grab him, the only person who remembered he even existed. She runs to him, trying to pull Geall'adh out of bed by his arm, frantically, without thinking, she yanks his hand, causing the skin to rip violently. Both of them, screaming, in pain and fear. Tan'ja, runs out of the room, thinking Geall'adh, is a lost cause. Should he survive this bombing, she would be done with him. Tired of the discussing creature, she hoped the bombing would put him out of his misery. She snapped, just like the skin, and would soon be transferred to get away from the rodent. The bombing, however, had yet to begin. Geall'adh got into his wheelchair, and tried to bandage his arm, the tear looked worse than it was, being surface level, as usual. Geall'adh tried to wheel out the door and get to a bunker, but it was to late, the bombs had started dropping. They sounded far away, but how long would they stay that far? Paralyzed with fear Geall'adh took shelter in the bathroom, shaking and crying. Tan'ja left him behind, while not surprising given she had been distant for a few years now, he had hoped her coming in to save him would be a turning point for them, a return to a time when they were more like family. It was never that simple however. An hour later, and the bombs sounded as if they were getting closer. Geall'adh waited, unable to move, or do anything but sit there, and hope they do not die. Suddenly the door burst opened, his friend Katatrovistski, quickly ran to them in tears, giving them a quick hug, and wheeling them quickly to the nearest bunker. They would reach the bunker, Katatrovistski would get an absolute ear full, being yelled at for running out to grab this "Walking dead Tajaran." Katatrovistski however, could not care less as both tajaran sat in the bunker, relieved to see each other once more. Tears running down both of their faces, overjoyed. From this point on, Geall'adh and Katatrovistski were almost inseparable. Spending as much time together as they could, until Geall'adh was told, "You and Katatrovistski are getting, a little two close he thinks... do not make him take this warning further." Katatrovistski would have to visit far less, going from everyday, to maybe once a week if they were lucky. The temple had taken the little bit of joy in his life, and dashed it. It felt as though, he had eaten hot coals. To make things worse, the areas around him, were being ravaged by the PRA even more than before. Near constant gunfire at times caused sleepless nights. Nights he laid thinking about how, if he was able bodied, he would run out there and do what he could to help his fellow Tajaran defend from the PRA. Who in his eyes, only wished for power to rule over the weak and nonconforming, twisting those they see as unworthy until they are "normal." His dreams would sometimes be consumed by nightmares of a world where they won, one where he could never be happy with his Katatrovistsk, and one that had no place for him, and his weakness. It is the first day in months he is well enough to leave the house. Katatrovistski, came by a good few weeks ago with medical supplies and ointments of quality he has not been able to afford in years. "think of it like... a birthday present, ok?" They said, handing Mor two boxes. One said, "19" on it, and contained all the medicines and a card, the other, was the one he was holding right now, sitting in his lap. "Deliver this gift for him if you can, its a big ask he knows, but its how he was able to afford the medicine, deliver this when you get back on your feet, the person there will give you even more medicines" Mor was right, weeks later, not only did he feel good enough to get up and deliver the gift, but now, he wanted to! With that "gift" delivered, it was done. Mor and Katatrovistski would soon have enough money to get a little shoebox of an apartment of their own instead of living with the temple, who grew more and more curious about where he was going after being bed ridden for so long. For a while now Mor would deliver "gifts." not always in boxes, or with pretty bows, but "gifts" none the less. Often trying to justify his actions through a mix of needing to survive, and knowing if he was not doing it, someone else would. He needed the treatment, or surely, he would die. As time went on, he learned of the reason he received treatment for his deliveries. He had been roped into a Raskariim scheme. One he, did not actually want out of. Truthfully, he felt good, being able to work for his own treatments for once, helping the DPRA obtain their supplies. Finally, he could be a worker, not a leech, and help fight for what he could believe in. He would do "easy" jobs at night, such as wheeling himself out to a location near a robbery, and blowing up some fireworks to help cover the noise of breaking glass, or bringing a box with information, inconspicuously to an office to assist the DPRA, after all, who would suspect a poor hairless creature in a wheelchair. They could do so at night, when it was easy to go outside without the pain of the sun and receive what was needed because of it. First treatment, then freedom from the temple. Freedom to live with who he wanted to, and love, who he loved. As the second revolution ended, so did their particular line of "gift" giving. As other, less stable parts of their circle of maggots fell and authorities found out about it, Katatrovistski was also found to be involved in these dealings. However, refused to let Mor take any blame, taking the full brunt of the twos fall. Katatrovistski, begged, and insisted that Mor could not be a part of the dealings, they were too weak, and would die in jail. The investigators either bought it or knew that Mor would in fact, die in prison, so went easy on them. Mor swore to them that they would find a better life for the two of them, and started looking for more stable jobs. Doing so was not without difficulty, even after the war at this time treatment for his condition was still scarce and more expensive. The cost of living, now alone, in their apartment would catch up to them. They sold their shoebox apartment, and bought a small electric carriage with the money. They used their appearance as a victim of dornskhy, along with the many rituals they learned to "sell" people that they were gifted in psychic ways. Working as a psychic for years in their carriage, for people often at the end of their rope and desperate at the end of the war until their Katatrovistski would get back from jail, using what money they had saved up, as well as contacts they made, sold the carrage, and got two tickets for a shuttle to ODIN, left their life behind, moving to the ODIN to find work before they run out of money and make there own home where they would be accepted and practice their beliefs safer. Hopefully, one day they can return, perhaps when things are more safe and stable. Although, Mor fears he will not live to see that day. My hope with this new, expanded backstory, is that I have explained how the dornskhy has gotten worse, Mor is now assisted by a wheelchair due to muscle atrophy from being bedridden. Ive added names to the important people in his life for readability. Added new paragraphs or blurbs to old ones to assist with conveying emotions better. I removed a paragraph that I feel did not fit as much in the new story. I did try to incorporate some more consequences of the war, such as the area around him being bombed and specified exactly how the temple was effected by the war, such as more kids to feed, less donations, ETC. Gave more reasons for why they would leave their old faith behind, along with their parental figure. Lastly I also hope I gave enough reason as for them being in their faction and how even they could help in the revolution, giving their life a little purpose.

Pretty cool from what ive seen, their characters are pretty unique and do their job wonderfully, I would like to give them a nice plus one!

I would of course be more than happy to rewrite the backstory with these two points in mind, however I do want to note that the backstory only shows the condition getting worse over time, till they are bedridden, only able to move again because of the treatment they were able to be given and even then, it would still be painful to do anything with his skin having bandages on 24/7, likely with oils and other internal meds, and likely even with treatment they will be dead in maybe a decade I would imagine. As for the civil war, I did only hint at it a bit as it is a reason why he was unable to get treatment, but I will expand far more on the war and factions when I rewrite the backstory. Before I do however, I would like to ask, is Dornskhy truly not something we would be able to see on station? Playing as a slow, sickly tajaran, who would seek medical treatment on station, is a major appeal to me personally and caused me to want to get the WL in the first place. They would of course, not have a high mobility job, likely working as a curator/librarian in order to get the medical care they would need to be safe. I of course need to ask before I work on a backstory as that is, very important to it.

Of course, communication that round was quite rough and something I saw I needed to work on through the round. Some of the things said do have more context than that however. This was said during a heated moment over coms where I was gassed, puking and still under the effects of red nightshade. While normally I would communicate with command over this, I was drugged and IC upset. It was less a "oh your in big trouble criminal!" and more a "Oh you motherfucker, you gassed a ton of people in a room and I watched you do it" As for this, I actually left the area I thought the antag was in, as they left out the front of medbay and I went into the back, I was throwing up a bunch and needed food, so I slowly made my way over to the break room. The antag was near the break room and followed me and then beat my head a few times for a medical scanner I had. I reported this over coms and when I walked out of the room I saw sec aiming at the unathi, I was, as far as I knew, stuck between a wall, and the unathi. I was not looking for a fight or conflict, in fact, there were many times in that round I ran from combat where it was going on because I would get in the way. I drew my pistol, with flash rounds, mostly to protect me and the cadet behind me and expected I would not have to use it. In hindsight I should have left through one of the doors, but genuinely, in a round that crazy I did not think of doing so. However, as you said you told me to leave the area, and I did not see that, or the antag saying they had a nade, as I said though, thats on me of course and I do need to work on both reading and responding to communication. This response is not to invalidate the criticism but just to shine a light on some of the events, both to replay the round in my head to help myself keep track of what I could do better and defend some actions that I feel look far better in context. I shall of course take the feedback in mind regarding communication however! Because again, I really did feel there were parts of that round that I really should have read something I missed or responded more to, I would like to HOPE this was a mix of being new to command in combination with it being a very crazy round and plan to work on that in future rounds.

Gonna have to give this one a big +1. Faye is a really good role player and their conduct ooc makes me think they would be a wonderful and level headed mod. Again, big +1

I don't know much about why they lost their WL in the first place, however, Mahara Stokov is a CMO that helped me learn what a good character really is when I first started playing on the server. She really was a good character and, to me, an outsider at the time, made me feel welcome even if it was a bit of a shitter at the time. +1 from me, I cant wait to see them hopefully come back.

Absolutely! I will likely move forward with just RD for the moment as I am very much looking forward to that and make a HoP when I feel I have an idea in mind for them, Ill do some brainstorming in regards to that.