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The year is 2293. Earthlings, finally ready to deal with the devastating effects of war, hunger, and poverty, managed to come together as one during the twenty-second century. This new government- The Confederation of Man- has ushered the third planet in the Sol System into a time of peace and prosperity. With the end of trifles such as war, mankind was able to focus on far more productive things. Humanity found sustainable ways of living. Humanity was able to lengthen its average life expectancy rate to 150. Perhaps most importantly, most amazingly, is that humanity, after centuries of painstaking research, trial and error, and bureaucratic red tape, has developed the capabilities needed for deep space travel. In 2285, "Faster Than the Speed of Light" became a reality.
Our story takes place on one of the flagships of the CoM's shiny new Deep Space Exploration Fleet, the "Journey." Tasked with expanding the tendrils of human society into the universe, the Journey is undoubtedly an historic vessel. We begin in the deep vastness of space, only months in to the Journey's mission. Where she will go, what she will do, and what mark she will leave, is up to her crew to decide.
Basic Information
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"The Crew" is my first role play thread here in Torn, so bare with me if it seems different than what everyone here is used to.
I am a lover of sci-fi, and enjoy nothing more than a good old fashioned sci-fi roleplay.
Although my character will *NOT* be the Captain of the Journey, I will serve as the OOC captain of the thread. I will be dictating larger events, describing the circumstances the crew will find itself in, and etc. Large events will take place in a very spread out manner. The Journey is a large ship, with thousands of crew members. The meat of the roleplay will be the intimate interactions between members of the crew. Huge events-finding planets, engaging with other ships in the fleet, or even encountering alien life-will serve as accentuations of these interactions.
Rules
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If one wishes to roleplay, one must fill out a simple character sheet, which is located below.
As previously stated, the captain of the ship is an open role for whoever wishes to fill it. However, I expect this person's writing ability to be exceptional. Whoever desires to be the captain must submit a better than average character sheet to be accepted.
In general, my word goes. However, if a few people notice that something I'm doing is unfair, they may state this to me and I will listen.
All characters must be approved by me.
Above all, have fun!
Character Sheet
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Name:
Gender:
Age: At least 18.
Appearance:
Role Onboard: This can be doctor, pilot, guard, bartender, janitor, etc. The Journey is basically a flying city. Choose your poison!
Biography:A brief history of your character.
(So this sounds interesting, I get that as its science fiction, Not all of the science can be explained, But as long as theres no breaks in logic...)
Name: Matthew Kovack.
Gender: Male.
Age: 19
Appearance: Brown short hair/eyes, Not very tall, around 5'8/9, Not at all muscular, Slender fingers.
Role Onboard: A researcher.
Biography: Born on Earth in 2274, He had always had a deep interest in science, and of course in the stars.
Keeping with this interest he worked his way through the education system, Learning all he could about the systems and then physics of space travel. Eventually after receiving a degree he began to work on a thesis in order to be accepted into the governing body of physics, So he chose to do it on space exploration. A few interviews, phone calls, essays and meetings later, he wound up on the ship "Journey" in order to research a theory on the effects of space travel on the human mind. Set up in a small lab on the west deck, He doesn't socialise much, Mostly he explores the ship, Taking in the views he could only but dream about as a child.
(Great character! Eagerly accepted! Hopefully more people will join soon, I'll post my sheet at that point and we'll begin.)
(Eventually I will be appointing a coleader of the thread to accept characters, dictate events, etc. whenever they so choose while I'm away.)
Name: Kelly Preston
Gender: Female
Age: 18
Appearance: Long, thick blonde hair, Green eyes, 5'3" tall, very thin
Role Onboard: Mechanic
Biography: Born on Earth in 2273, Kelly has always been a small girl with a big personality. Despite her girly appearance, she is a very skilled mechanic. Her father was a mechanic and she would watch him work on cars from the tender age of three years old. By the age of ten, she already knew all there was to know about all the parts of a motor and how everything worked. She considers her small size to be an advantage because it allows her to fit into small spaces. Her father was originally invited to be the mechanic on the Journey, but he refused to come out of retirement, so Kelly was invited to take his place. Though she suffers from anxiety and depression, she accepted and is confident that she can handle her duties as a mechanic as well as manage her emotional problems.
Edited to fit the YaBoiNate's below post.
Name: Hoxton Mallard
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Appearance: Standing at 6'2", muscular(stronger than the average male of his age), and generally fit. Hoxton is a fairly handsome young man with black hair cut in the style of the U.S. Marines.
Role Onboard: Guard
Biography: Born in the area in which used to be the United States on Earth in the year 2073. Hoxton had grown up with a middle class family, he had a long family line of the father being a soldier. His whole life Hoxton dreamed of being an elite soldier, the best of the best. His father(a retired soldier of a secret army), soon found out and helped him to try to reach that goal, he started to drill him constantly at the age of 10, which Hoxton eagerly went through with. Hoxton's mother did not agree with the training, as she did not want Hoxton joining the secret army for fear that he may die. The secret army call themselves the Marine Corps, as to emphasize that they believe that they are the most elite fighting force known to man, they are very secretive still, in a time of great peace it is not a great thing for you to be part of an "Army Without a Nation", the training was hard there and they were always prepared for a war, none of them believed that humanity could stay peaceful for very long. But she still helped him with his mathematics and such, trying to keep him slightly ahead of the rest of the class in the subjects, even though she knew that she was just making it more likely that he would pass the academics tests. At the age of 15 he already could pass the physical tests for the Marine Corps. The next year he was ready to take the academics tests too. Finally, at the age of 18 he was able to enlist, starting his career with the Marine Corps. Sadly for him, it was short lived. Just 2 years after he enlisted his father told him that the family had been notified that Hoxton was invited to be put on the flagship "Journey". Hoxton's father told him he needed to go and after 3 days finally convinced Hoxton to go. He was to be a guard and was then briefly trained in some important combat strategies that he may need in space, on board a ship or in no gravity(not sure if we have energy weapons or something of the like yet). So he said his goodbyes to his family and his comrades in the Marine Corps and left to join the flagship Journey as it went into deep space. Hoping that the Marine Corps never had to be put into action or never got discovered.
Theme Song(because I like theme songs lol):
Linkin Park: Faint
(Both of you are accepted! Love it! Thrail, the U.S. isn't technically a thing, but people may still refer to that area as the U.S. for convenience's sake, as it hasn't even been a century since the Confederation was founded. He probably would've been training for some sort of elite guard force, considering standing armies are unnecessary and obsolete.)
Name: Kevin McElvoy
Gender:Male
Age:28
Appearance: Kevin is of an average height, roughly around 5'11 or 6'0 feet tall. He is fit, though not exactly muscular. He keeps his dark brown hair cut short, along with his carefully trimmed beard. His deep blue eyes seem to shine in contrast to his pale skin. He is almost always seen wearing the uniform of the Bridge Crew on the Journey-a black shirt, pants, boots, and the red-tipped wings displaying his rank and role- Lieutenant, Pilot Track. Kevin's warm smile and rich voice do little to distract from his sarcastic tone and often arrogant attitude.
Role Onboard: Head Pilot
Biography: Kevin has loved flying his entire life-a love he likely inherited from his father, a test pilot for the CoM. Kevin's father was actually one of the first pilots to experience faster than light travel, though not the very first. When his father was home-which, admittedly, was rather rare- the two of them spent hours on end discussing space craft and the art of flight. Kevin has known since he was a teenager that he would one day fly ships for the Confederation.
Working his way through the University of Space Flight in what was once known as Russia, Kevin managed to impress the right people. At age 22, Kevin began piloting small craft for Confederation researchers as the Fleet was being constructed. He earned his way through the ranks until age 28, when the Fleet was completed and he was assigned to pilot the Journey. His dad having passed just months before he shipped off, Kevin is leaving nothing but nothing back on Earth. The Journey is all Kevin has now, and he loves every second of his post.
Eagerly awaiting new roleplayers! One or two more and we can begin.
(I generally dislike character sheets, but this looks alright, so I'll manage. )
Name: Charles "Strange" Beckort
Gender: Male
Age: 38
Appearance: Caucasian, with what appears to be a permanent tan, but is actually the expression of distant pacific islander heritage. Strange is of average height, rather thickly built. He keeps his hair buzzed close and his facial hair nonexistent. It has been sad, perhaps not unfairly, that he has a face a bit like a fish with very large eyes and a small nose. His face is an extremely unnerving but seemingly involuntary thousand yard stare.
Role Onboard: Doctor of Surgery, occasional member of the biological research team.
Biography: If one is going to go through life as a rather unpleasant looking member of the human race who also lacks any sense of style and additionally one has little sense of humor or personal charm, one must be useful. This was seemed to have been strange's mantra through life. He wholeheartedly threw himself into any and all projects or challenges placed in his path with a dedication that others simply did not possess. When he had been told that his M.D. and excellent grades and patient survival rates were not enough to get him into the space program, he had returned to school and earned a doctorate in biochemistry, writing one or two excellent articles about possible flora and fauna on distant worlds in the process. He had been accepted then, if only out of the fear that he would simply attain another doctorate and apply again if turned down.
This was very likely true. On the Journey he had obtained the nickname Dr. Carp due to his appearance and how difficult it was to like him as a person. He rather disliked this, and attempted to stomp it out where ever possible.
Strange had never made it clear why he wanted so very badly to go to space. Perhaps it was simply a dissatisfaction with Earth. Regardless, he took his job very seriously, and was nearly always willing to pursue additional work, if it was interesting, of course.
(Heh, Doctor Strange accepted. We'll get started! I don't have time right this moment, but sometime tonight whenever I have a chance I'll make my first post. Anyone who wants to post first is free to do so, but I know how intimidating it is to be the first one.)
Name: Michael "Specter" Mar
Gender: Male
Age: 39
Appearance: Michael stands a little over 6'0, with somewhat of a slim build and is extremely tanned. His shoulders are quite narrow, arms muscular but barely, same for his legs. He has a small pouch for a stomach, mostly from his choice of job. His long chestnut brown hair his often tied up in a ponytail, and his handlebar mustache is kept maintained with utmost care, if only to barley cover a scar on either side of his mouth. His face is kind, with sea green eyes. The most striking thing about him though, is the metal brace on his left leg. He walks with a slight limp, and you can hear a dull clunk every step he takes.
Role Onboard: Co pilot
Biography: There is likely no one more content in his job, than Specter. With his experience, he could have piloted any ship he wanted, and yet he chooses to remain a co pilot, often for far younger pilots. His skills have allowed him to navigate even the most dangerous parts of space, to go to the seediest ports around, no matter the crew. His reputation speaks volumes, but his past is shady at best. From knowledge of him riding with small crews to rumors of him piloting pirate ships, everything that isn't concrete is considered rumor, and rumors become legend. What is known is that he has a love for knives, keeping one on his body at all times, and that something went wrong to give him an injured leg and his facial scars. He's never spoken of it.
No matter the rumors though, whenever he joined a crew, he fitted in quickly. With a silver tongue, the gift of gab, the ability to lie himself out of bad situations, the endless supply of humorous jokes and a certain way to charm people, it seemed like there was nothing he couldn't do that he hadn't already done. He enjoyed the freedom that space offered him, so he would enjoy coasting it all the way.
(Warily accepted. Just keep in mind not to control other peoples' characters-Specter's charm and lies can't be a superpower. I'm sure you know what you're doing, I've just seen a lot of people use "charm" as an excuse to be like "Dude you can't possibly know that he's being manipulative because he's just really good at it.")
(Beginning!)
Travelling through Macro-Space was a dull affair for pilots. Kevin had always assumed faster than light travel would be beautiful. Shiny. In reality, it was dark. The view screens on the bridge showed mostly nothing but black. In fact, it would've been impossible to tell they were moving at all if not for data displayed on a hundred different monitors manned by a hundred different crewmen. "Macro Duty" was considered one of the dullest assignments possible for a crewmen stationed on the bridge. Luckily, Macro-Space required only a minimum of attention and all but the most underwhelming crew members got the time off. Kevin, naturally, found himself in one of the many "Crew Lounges"-cafes- on the vast space craft.
As he sipped on an unimpressive nutrient shake, Kevin's eyes raced along a rather interesting book he had recently acquired. The story was millennia old; considered a classic. In fact, the pilot had read the story once or twice already during his educational period. He considered it that good and, in his opinion, so would any other self respecting reader.
So it was. Kevin spent his downtime reading, trying to avoid the more...party affluent members of the Journey.
Kelly emerged from the engine room with a small splotch of motor oil on her cheek. She had been surveying the engines to make sure they were in tip top condition. On a ship travelling through space, the last thing anyone needed was for something to go wrong with the engines, which was why she took her job as the Journey's mechanic very seriously, but she was finished with her duties for the day, and unless something broke, she was most likely going to have the rest of the day off, so she went to her sleeping quarters to change out of her jumpsuit and into a pair of jeans and a cute pink top. Then, she headed out to one of the Crew Lounges, grabbing a book on her way out.
When she got to the lounge, Kelly got a large hot chocolate and scanned the area for a place to sit, hoping she didn't look terrible since she'd forgotten to check the mirror back in her sleeping quarters. She finally located a spot across from another crew member, who was also reading. Tossing back her hair, she sat down and began to read, occasionally sipping her drink.
Hoxton patrolled the corridors, holding his EX-17(part of the EX brand, mass-produced in 2292 and used widely due to its reliability and stun option, considered a police-grade weapon) in a casual position. Oh hell, it's going to be a long shift. Guard duty was rarely interesting. You either get to stand in one spot for a large period of time or you patrol one area for a large period of time. Counting your footsteps for fun and watching anybody who passes by. Even though it was boring Hoxton knew it was necessary, of course there are troublemakers on the ship and there are quite a few areas that civilians need to stay away from. Along with the possibility of hostile alien life out in space, if there are aliens out there a gun is your only solution, that's how Hoxton feels anyway. Hoxton was a loyal soldier, he had gotten a lot of training in discipline in the secret army called the Marine Corps, he was determined to be one of the best on the ship and he was sure that he would achieve that. It was really all he worked for, he was not selfish, he did not want fame either. It was just the way he was raised, both of his parents were very competitive and it caught on to him as well. Along with his father being a former Marine Corps member, the man was like a Drill Instructor from when the original Marine Corps had existed.
After about 10 minutes of patrolling Hoxton leaned against a wall and rested for a minute, walking was not a hard task but doing it for hours upon hours at a time was torture for the legs. He later got up and started again, always alert and always bored.
After spending most of the day, Or what was considered to be a day, in his cramped lab writing notes in a space that would be better suited to holding brooms, He decided to just go out and do something. He had been working a little on his thesis and as a result he had taken down notes on a few of the key figures on the ship.
Exiting the space, He begins to walk aimlessly around the west deck, He recalls his studies, The long hours of work and the late nights. All for this.
With his mind preoccupied he doesn't notice at all where it is he had gone to. Eventually arriving outside the bridge. Frowning slightly, He mutters "Yeah.. not going to walk in there" as he turns and continues his random walk around the maze of the ship.
Michael could sometimes be found in his room whenever not needed on deck. Today, however was different, where he was in his usual spot. He was up on deck, feet up on another chair, a book in hand. He had no need to be here of course, but he liked to be up on deck sometimes. He'd run with crews where something could go wrong at any point, and he'd made a habit of being nearby.
If something did go wrong, there were few he trusted to get it right. Those on the Macro shift were no where near that level. After all, they were on Macro duty. So, as he silently turned the page of his book, picking up a bottle from between his legs, taking a sip, then putting it back. He took a glance out to space, then at the controls. Everything looked clear, didn't mean it was.
Kevin took notice of the rather unkempt crewmember who took a seat near him in the lounge. Though he didn't consider it an intrusion-after all, this was public space- he was wary of whether his new company would expect conversation. The pilot absolutely despised small talk. It made him anxious, like he had some sort of a responsibility to say something interesting or else he failed at being a normal person on the most basic level. Obviously, he found silence to be a much more comforting route to take with strangers.
Luckily for him, she appeared to also be a reader. He made an effort to stealthily look over at what she was perusing, though he knew he probably looked like a giraffe trying to reach that last oh-so-high leaf. Hopefully, he thought to himself, she hadn't noticed.
After another while of just wandering aimlessly, Matthew decides to get a least some more work done. Heading back to his space, He takes a look around it, Once again marvelling at the fact he had made it this far.
The room was small, Barely the width of the desk that sat on one end of the room. Against the wall and out of the way lied a small bunk, It was untidy, the sheets ruffled and the remains of this mornings breakfast sitting in a bowl on it. The room was also windowless, the only light came from a lamp resting on top of the desk. It did really seems as if this space had only been a broom closet before his arrival. The desk was sturdy at least, Laden with various books and papers, Some were his own notes, Some where notes from others he was working with. There was a cluttering of books lying by the door, A combination of well worn novels and science related books. Finding his notebook in the chaotic yet organised mess, Matthew then grabs the nearest pen; Sometimes the oldest tech was the best, before heading back into the bright corridors. Once again returning to the flight deck he entered, Deciding to kill two birds with one stone by both observing the pilots and whoever else was up there, As well as being able to watch the vast void of space.