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 ----------------------------- "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 ------------- 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 ----------------------- 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.
Jacob Davis entered the bridge suddenly, the automatic doors sliding quietly closed behind him as he stepped forward towards his chair, overseeing his command. "At ease, crew, get back to work. We've quite the task ahead of us." Davis took his seat, taking his chin in his hand. Even now, the monitors covering the ship indicated its rapidly reducing speed-though the size of the vessel would prevent any individual from actually feeling the decrease. Well, its size along with its G-Inhibitors.
"Each and every single man on this bridge has trained for this contingency. Man the cannons, but for Christ's sake do not fire unless fired upon. We aren't trying to start a galactic war today." Davis figured that any battle the Journey found itself in-especially one against a force that could pull the ship from MacroSpace-would be a short battle indeed, much less a war. He refrained from saying this to his crew, of course.
In that moment, Head Pilot McElroy entered through the elevator at the other side of the room. "Reporting for duty, Captain," Kevin said, quickly saluting before Davis signaled for him to get to his post. Kevin made it to his seat quickly-signaling for his copilot to give him control of the ship. "Should be out of MacroSpace momentarily, Captain...any idea what-" in that instance, the ship came to a stop. Again, no one could feel it, but anyone who looked at the monitors could see that they were no longer in motion. That is, if any one had been looking at the monitors. But no, in that instance, almost everyone on that bridge had their eyes glued to the viewscreens-and the giant, spherical crimson space station that occupied them.
The station absolutely dwarfed the Journey. Separated in half by a deep trench that flashed with by bright white lights, the station made for an intimidating sight. Davis found himself struggling to determine what that trench was. Was it..a city?
Davis was about to command the communications staff to reach out to the station, but before he could every viewscreen on the bridge turned to static. A deafening screech filled the bridge, so painful was it that even Davis instinctively covered his ears and seemed to shrink away from it. Luckily, the pain did not last long-the static, along with the screech, ended. What replaced them was a slimy, long necked creature that reminded Davis of a snake mixed with a swan. Its purple scales glistened as it spoke without moving its mouth-
"Greetings, strange creatures. I am HurgleBuggleDoopleGruff," the creature seemed to grumble out what must've been a name, but sounded to Davis very much like it was choking, "a representative of the Intergalactic Council of Advanced Species. ICAS. I would like to peacefully invite you to dock your ship in our space station, Huurrgggghhhle." More gurgles. The invitation sounded polite, but also suspiciously more like a demand. "I will personally attend your landing and introduce myself in person to you, Captain." The creature turned its unmoving eyes-five red circles in the center of its triangular face-towards Davis. A shiver went down his spine, though he was pretty sure he covered it well.
"I am eager to meet my first human." The way he said human rhymed with humus.
(We'll be needing a Captain, and since no one else wanted him, I'll do it haha.)
Name: Jacob Davis Gender:Male Age: 62 Appearance: I don't wanna do this...do I haaave to??? Oh wait, this is my forum. Nope! Picture Alec Guinness from Star Wars IV. That's Jacob. Role Onboard: Captain Biography: I don't wanna do this either...this isn't even my main. I feel like a bum. I'll just describe his personality!
Jacob is a stern Captain, often coming off as rude, though never without reason. A shrewd tactician, his mind is always examining situations and looking for the quickest ways to solve problems. Captain Davis can be a good friend, but when he's on the job he is all business. He's made a lot of enemies, but most people can respect his efforts and strong leadership style.
(The bit about designated areas wasn't quite clear enough. They're basically storm shelters-huge warehouse like rooms with rows of benches where personnel wait through the chaos. Figured it was a good way to get some of the characters together that don't seem to have much to do.)
(Dr. Fiorini warily accepted. Just be sure to stay away from mary-sue, yeah? Welcome aboard!!)
Kevin was awaiting a reply from the young mechanic when a red light washed over the room, along with three long, shrill sirens. "f**k," Kevin muttered under his breath, though no one would've been able to hear it. After a few moments of blinking crimson, a calm female voice filled the ship. ~Attention all crew members. Attention all crew members. This is not a drill. Red Alert, repeat Red Alert. This is not a drill. Please report to your designated areas. Repeat, please report to your designated area.~
Designated area. For most of the ship, this meant heading to the designated safety chambers designed for personnel not required to handle emergencies. Different alerts meant different crew were assigned to the chambers-green meant a serious mechanical malfunction, and all but mechanics were required to report. Blue meant a personnel issue, during which all but guards would find themselves in the centralized rooms. Red meant the flight crew were required to report immediately to the bridge.
A red alert had never occurred before. During MachSpace, this meant something was obstructing the flight path and required them to leave light speed travel. Now, this couldn't have been some sort of asteroid or anything of the sort. MachSpace was designed to avoid such basic obstructions, no matter how rarely they were encountered. No, a Red Alert in the midst of MachSpace could mean only one thing;
They were being forcibly removed from light speed travel.
Kevin stood and hurried out of the lounge without saying a word to the mechanic. He knew it was rude, but he had a job to do now. On his way through the corridors of the ship, Kevin passed many worried faces. Children scurried about in confusion. On duty guards assisted people in finding their way. The pilot even passed a few bridge crewmen, each heading nervously to their posts. This was the moment many people had waited for- and for some, feared.
They were apparently encountering alien life.
Kevin figured he still had a few minutes to get to the bridge before the ship was completely removed from MachSpace. He was sure the bridge would be chaos-at least until the captain arrived. As he boarded the elevator, Kevin hoped against hope that he could get to his post before whatever they were encountering made the first move.
Kevin smirked at the young woman. "Ah, ancient indeed! Never read it." It was funny to see a mechanic get so excited over an old book. Mostly you only saw that from the doctors and researchers onboard. It was an interesting change, indeed. The idea occurred to him that it must've been an interesting life that lead a bookworm to become a grease monkey to become a deep space explorer. He had nothing better to do, so he figured he'd ask. It would at least kill some time. "So, Kelly," Kevin glanced back down at his book as he spoke, "what bought you to the Journey? Surely more than the engine, the world has quite a few mechanics that could be here, rather than you. What did you do to end up her and leave them home?"
"The Last Martian," Kevin replied, beaming. During the late 22nd century and for decades in to the early 23rd, fictional tales about space and space exploration were practically mass produced. It had become clear to everyone that massive leaps forward in technology would soon lead to real life tales of dashing ship captains and roguish space pirates, and their imaginations ran wild. Many authors hopped on the bandwagon, hoping either to make themselves legend or rich. Achmid Dazim, the author of "The Last Martian," had achieved both.
"I've read it time and time again, but something just keeps bringing me back. Maybe it's the satire." Kevin smiled, hoping beyond hope that it seemed friendly. He had been told before that he came off as...intense, when excited. "I notice you're doing some reading as well. Let me guess... a self-help book about the wonders of using MachDrive engine fluid as a moisturizing cream?" He was joking, of course, and hoped he hadn't offended her.
Kevin noticed her clean her cheek and glance at him. 'f**k..' thought the pilot. 'Now I have to talk, I guess.' "Heh, engine duty, huh?" Kevin forced a smile, momentarily setting his book down...though he left it open. "Don't panic," he shrugged, trying his best to seem nonchalant. "I don't think anyone but myself and the bartender noticed."
"Got a name, mechanic?"
(Sorry for the short length, busy night and I didn't want you hanging. Also didn't wanna ramble.)
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.
Effing PEOPLE!! It's not about the money guys! We just wanna see the number get big, yeah?? Stop taking this petty 120k bullshit! Gah!!
Okay, okay...people. Imagine it's that money swipe game. That game is pointless. The whole damn POINT, or the closest thing you can get, is making the NUMBER get HIGHER. This is multiplayer money swipe. Stop missing the point.