SirStem

Personal/key: Stem His Majesty the Almighty Derpsmurf (long story). IC: Leo Abbot: The Boy Stutter Eli Altern: Sophie's cousin, pudding king, One Who Wires The Solars Sophie Abbot: "That one drunk science person" --I forget who called me this. PLZ lay claim.

So I'm trawling the forums during class like a good student should, and I see this name I'm not familiar with. So, as I'm looking at this Nanako person (or internet-capable dolphin, I'm not judging) and seeing thei comments redbar already filling, something catches my eye. From the time I'm writing this, Nanako has made 135 posts to our forums. And then I see that they joined our wonderful, dysfunctional little family TWENTY DAYS AGO. IS Nanako a returning player I missed at some point? OR is Nanako the Prophesized One, the being spoken of in legends? The one who will conquer the forums, fill the redbar, and, heaven forbid, be declared the One True King/Queen/Internet-Capable Dolphinlord of OTD? Seriously though, insane rambling aside, cheers to Nanako for being a devoted contributor and whatnot. Update: Writing this off a two-day sleep deprivation thingy due to school and life deciding to loot, pillage, and burn my sleep schedule's village.

So I'm on the server being all antaggy and stuff, and then I do something. And then something else. And eventually I forget to blow up the station. Anyone else have this problem, or am I crazy?

So, let's say Baldy McAssistington sees Traitrev Cultlington pull a gun on him, and our hero Baldy is holding a wrench or something. Is Baldy allowed to throw the wrench in desperation to distract Traitrev or make him flinch while he runs away?

Reading this thread while juggling small colorful balls and huffing radiator fumes while listening to 80's poptronica music creates a bubble of perfect consciousness. IT ALL LINES UP

Wait, the forums aren't simply there so I can laugh at other people? I feel like I've been lied to.

"The food was unsatisfactory aboard the NSS Aurora. Please toss the chef into The Omnipotent Lord Singulo."

There's a good point here. I mean, how many bans are about violence? Sometimes the allure of whacking someone over the head with a toolbox/fire extinguisher/metal sheet/donk pocket is just too great to ignore.

Oh, the staff reports are absolutely wonderful. Just decided to go reread those. Reason: Nope.

Will do. *UPDATE* That was simultaneously the most beautiful and horrifying thing I have ever laid eyes upon. I think I read five, and then decided humanity's time on this orbiting rock is done and we should move over for the sentient banana-people.

It's like art. You can interpret the unbans any way you want to. Except for the denied part, that's an ironclad rule of administrative JUSTICE.

After a long day of classes, sometimes I just need to laugh. Some people watch comedy TV, listen to comedians, or tell children Santa isn't real. But not I. I go and read some of my favorite unban appeals, and that always makes me feel better. I won't name names; that's not cool. Besides, these are funny in my opinion, and probably in my opinion only. Is there anyone else out there who does this? Or am I just a forum-crawling freak of nature (plz don't respond to that)?

I'm definitely a big fan of Dave. He makes me chuckle.

So, so far, I've had exactly three interactions with him. He's pushy, obnoxious, and above all else, annoying. RPwise, he's a viable character. Other than that, though, I hope he accidentally gets mass driven.

My turn to clog the internet with my personal information. I'm 18, from Chicago, student in college studying computer science with a minor in psychology. I play bass, not sports. I fix computers for cash and charge extra for viruses contracted from watching porn. I'm also Jewish and bisexual. I may be, in the medical sense, addicted to Ramen noodles. That's my life story.

BYOND Key: SirStem Character Name: Sophie Abbot Item Name: Engraved Flask Why I'm Bringing It to Work: Upon her graduation from the prestigious Chicago Institute of Science and Mathematics (CISM), her cousin Eli Altern, knowing her drinking habits, got her a flask engraved with the phrase "Next time, it's on you." The meaning of the phrase is only known between the two of them, and the flask seems very precious to her. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Item Functions: Holds liquids, like a regular flask Item Description: A flask engraved with the cryptic message "Next time it's on you." Item Appearance: Same sprite as regular flask.

((Let the man chase his Sexy Tajaran ladies. Free Eugene 2016.))

Sophie looks over at Isiah, who had finally removed himself from under the table. "Yeah, I do, and the pudding was vanilla. His name's Eli and he's Earth's only couch-surfing millionaire." She looks up just in time to see Mark Syion turn to converse with a few other patrons. "Hope I didn't cause too many problems, " she thinks to herself. She refocuses to the cute doctor across from her. "What about you? Got any family worth mentioning?" She picks up a napkin and begins to wipe the beer off the briefcase.

The second Sophie hears "WEAPON!" she springs into action. Drunken action. She grabs the nearest object in reach--a glass of whiskey--and blindly lobs it across the room in the general direction of the shout. A few seconds of quiet later, she looks over in the direction of her thrown glass to see a thoroughly drenched Jim Calhoun. "Well...damn. Worry about that later, I guess." Her drunken mind processes. She leans down under the table. "Isiah, hun? You can stop cowering now. It's just a fat guy in a dress." She looks around. "Nice evasive action there, though." She chuckles to herself. He's kinda adorable when he's cowering. She'll have to remember that. She casually takes a sip of the other glass at the table and calls across the room to the large stranger, "Your name is--what?" "Your name is who?" "Your name is--huh?" Ah screw it, he's a problem for another time.

Sophie cradles her second glass of whiskey--or is it third?--and looks through the hazy room for someone interesting. Inevitably, her eyes land on Dr. Fraser, who looks like he'd rather be anywhere else. "Twitchy, " she thinks. Recently Isiah has been the subject of office rumors for his supposed relationship with Dr. Talia Gauss, and Sophie has full intent to prove or...disprove those rumors tonight. Swallowing a gulp of liquid confidence, she makes her way over to where he's sitting, alone, without a female doctor in sight. She slides down next to him. "Hey you, you wanna buy me my next round?" She says with a wink and a hair toss. "Nailed the entrance," she thinks to herself.

Sophie Abbot has had it up to here with being sober and she wants to be STUPID for an evening. After spending a long, tiring weekend of caring for a couch-surfing millionaire and a week of narrowly avoiding being barbecued aboard the NSS Aurora, it's time to take a break from work and life and reality in general. After throwing on whatever nice black dress that doesn't smell like old booze and disappointment, she takes to the streets of Mendell City. Chicago is nice, but sometimes Sol just doesn't have what a girl needs. After a few hours of club-hopping, it doesn't look like tonight will be her night. By chance, she looks over at the nearest building. THE STODDARD BUILDING, the sign proclaims in its small but imposing lettering. Her eyes catch a directory. The Rusty Brass, floor 50. It seems promising, and with a name like that, it just might be the perfect place to not care for a few hours. She enters the building and slides into the elevator. Soon enough, floor fifty dings on the bell and the doors slide open. She briskly glides down the hallway to be greeted by a sharply dressed Unathi man in front of a beautiful set of oaken French doors. "How'ssss it going, mack?" the well-dressed Unathi hisses jovially. "Pretty well, and the name's Sophie, not mack." She jokes. The Unathi chuckles. "You're dressssed for the occassssion, feel free to ssstay a while." The doorman shows her in. It's paradise. 20th century jazz, complete with a crooner, warbles over the dimly-lit floor. The bar looks well-stocked, and a light haze covers the entire room. "I may have just found my new regular," she thinks to herself. She slides down to the bar. "Whiskey if you got it, water if you don't." The barkeep chuckles and slides a glass of the strong stuff across to her. She turns, glass in hand, to survey the crowd. "Hey, don't I recognize those two?" she thinks to herself. Lo and behold, the pair in question are her coworkers on the Aurora.