[image: file770.com] Year 2517 AE: The Tartarus wars For the last three centuries; An intergalactic struggle has existed between the Ursa Arcturus alliance and the Delta Hyperbius Caliphate. Between Ideological differences and economic development along with expansionism between each others prospective galaxies. Hyperbius were the first to initiate transdimensional rift bombings. Leveling hab cities from orbit and Ursa responded with raid like hits along the trade lines along hyperbius outer systems and using anti matter strikes against their orbit relays and stations. The rift between the two galaxies have left it open for profitable black markets and smuggler ships to put themselves on the line to monetize both sides of the war, pirates and smugglers alike putting their lives on the line with intergang battles and trying to get through orbital space wars and the like. Its a dark future in this day and age, nothing guaranteed but the prospect of riches grows as the war prolongs itself.
The Mammon: Battleship classed smuggler [image: www.gameartlab.com][background color=var(--bbc-body-bg-color)]Specs: Class: Battleship Class Smuggling cruiser Engine: Quad Fusion Plasma Cores With Warp Drive capabilities Armor: Tri-Folded Adamantium layers with a reinforced prow for ramming and defensive capabilities Weapon systems: Prow based Partical godlancers with matter diffusers and hecutor plasma batteries with neutronium depleted warheads Main offensive weapon: Disruption Macrocannon used to send electrical disruption pulses to fry enemy ship hardware auxiliary weaponry: Boarding torpedoes and Lasburners Auxiliary systems: immaterial void shield used for cloaking and light to medium laser/plasma fire Ai operated battle analysis and combat system Sub systems: Biomodular adaptive hab units for crewman allowing for adaptation for specie specific living arrangements. Protein printer for mess hall Deployable "Life rafts" to exfil the Mammon incase of total catastrophic engine failure. Deployable Smuggler shuttle for orbital trade, operations and observation [image: cdnb.artstation.com]
Dislikes: E rations, clientele who don't honor a deal, insubordinate crew members. Disposition: Observant, stoic, ruthless.
Habits (biting nails, licking lips, etc): slight tremor that can progress when withdrawal symptoms begin to show
Dreams and Aspirations: To establish and run his own onworld smuggler colony to continue to profit off this war.
Notable Traits: Calculative and deceptive. Negative trait/s (min 1): Cold and disconnected
~~~ Physical traits ~~~
Height: 5'10
Weight: 165 (without armor) 220 (with)
Tattoos: None
Scars: Surgical scarring down the back, along the shoulders and down to the elbow. same scarring starting from the interior of the groin and outwards till it stops at the base of the shins. Augmentations: Surgeries allowing neurological fusion between his neuropath and the armor suit he wears. Eyes have been replaced with augmented cybernetics for both ultraviolet, frequency and radiation perception.
Eye Color: lime green
Hair Color/Length: sandy brown into a high fade with a clean trim.
~~~ Outfits and accessories~~~
Attire: Synth skin formed pants and a simple black shirt when out of armor. Armor: Ballistic reactive combat armor with neuropath fusion to user. Can protect from most kinetic based weapons, but weak to plasma or corrosive ammunition. Also capable of deploying combat stims and monitoring life vitals. Possible though not without repercussions to last within vacuumed space for no longer than 5 minutes within the suit. Weapon/s: Heavy [background color=var(--bbc-body-bg-color)]Bolter Pistol: a rocket propelled 20mm Semi/Burst functioning pistol with a stalker variant ammunition for Covert Ops. Las gun "Hell Rifle": a laser energy based rifle that is over charged by an external energy pack to provide increased armor piercing power [/background]
~~~Skills (1 related to ship operations 2 for character skill sets)~
Astropathy: Being well trained in exploring and coordinating his ship's movement intergalactically for two decades and having helmed several ships over the course of his life allows him to have an in-depth knowledge of travel between the two galaxies. giving his ship and crew an edge in both smuggling and battling. PsyOps: Having been at the point of dozens of missions of both espionage, covert operations and counter intelligence Chernobog had refined the skills that it takes to look at either individual interaction to the scale of intergalactic warfare and treat it like chess. His natural perception and processing capabilities influenced by warfare and his occupation amplifies his decision making abilities. Mercantilism: He is shrewd and perceptive when it comes to getting the best deals and twisting a client into the best outcome for chernobog and the crew. He knows his products and generally knows when its bad product, bad deal or double cross. Weakness: Stim addiction: Because of his past of having combat stims used on him during the experimental processes to fuse him to his combat suit as a teen. Chernobog needs to have a weekly injection of dialzapen in order to alleviate the massive withdrawals on his neurological and psychological health.
~~~Bio~~~
Having been brought up in the middle of this intergalactic war, chernobog was turned into a child soldier by the Hyberius caliphate. At the age of 12 was when he was surgically altered to wear the nanoskin and fusion armor; he was meant to be one of the two dozen martyrs for the caliphate. To be a sacrifice to show how far and how long the caliphate would be willing to go in order to win this war. He was expected to die, but regardless of the combat sims and the forced cognitive rewashing. Chernobog maintained a fraction of himself. However small it was, the only bit of animalistic desire to escape this hell hole and to be free of it all. When he didn't die from the initial waves, chernobog was repurposed for infiltration and psychological operations. Whether it was destabilization or assassination, women children or man. Death was left behind him. His codename was chernobog, a Teran name in reference to a slavic god of death. He was the butcherer of man, and Nicholaev lived up to that codename. It wasnt until he was left unsecured on the ship. Having thought the sedatives they pumped him to put him into a cationic state. Is when he would begin the path of his revenge, layer by layer, block by block and section by section. He would commit atrocities to those that held him captive until he made it to the helm. And with the compliance of the dieing helmsman; Did Chernobog escape off into the vasts of the black matter to recuperate and begin his legacy as the commander of Mammon.
Primorsky Krai: A Taiga biome with nearly 1500 square kilometers of forest/mountainous range with a plethora array of both flora and fauna.
The several dozen survivors of the missing Malaysia 370 flight have crash landed into the heart of this untamed land, bordered by eastern China, north korea, northern russia and the atlantic ocean. The handfuls of survivors must find their ways through the landscape and reach civilization. Within this stunning landscape are several apex predators such as Surri Black Bear, Amur Tiger and Amur Leopard. But with equally supported with prey fauna as well as wild vegetables. Temperatures averaging between 68 degrees F to 5 Degrees. Exposure being the worst enemy to the survivors along with injury and foraging. Depend on each other and work towards finding civilization. This is a realistic rp, pvp killings are allowed within reason for the sake of survival. Same as it is when it comes to building shelter or starting a fire. Share knowledge and skills to better increase your chances to survive. You can become sick by drinking unboiled water, infections from untreated exposed wounds or exposure to the elements. As well as being hunted by some of the predators. 3 days without water=Death, 1 week without food, limited traveling. 2 weeks brainfog/minimal stamina. 3 weeks is enfeeblement and need others for assistance to move. 4 weeks leads to complete autophagy and starvation. The season where the crash occurs is just at the end of spring.
Interests: DIY projects, fabrications for the small farm he has, BBQs/cookouts with the family
Dislikes: City life, IPA beer,
Habits (biting nails, licking lips, etc): When he's thinking of a design or craft idea tends to rub his thumb and pointer finger together.
Dreams and Aspirations: To finish the last of the payments for his mortgage and live off the land he owned back along the florida/georgia line.
Notable Traits: Stubborn, headstrong, adaptive.
~~~ Physical traits ~~~
Height: 6'1
Weight: 205 lbs
Tattoos: several tribalistic tattoos depicting his family, culture and ancestory.
Scars: several nicks and stitches over the course of his life.
Eye Color: Dark oak brown
Hair Color/Length: Hearth brown, unkempt and at the nape of his neck.
~~~ Outfits and accessories~~~
Attire: Worn and torn cargo pants with varying pockets held together with duct tape and rough stitching.
Accessories: a cracked watch with compass and elevation capabilities.
Weapon/s: Claw Hammer, hatchet and a utility knife.
~~~Skills (3 skills max)~
Carpentry: He is a blue collared worker who was certified as a carpenter for both commercial and residential constructions. he knows proper structure and foundational work along with being skilled at lumber manipulation and carving.
Foraging: Living generationally off the forest has allowed him to recognize with general knowledge on wild herbs, edible berries, roots and vegetables.
Land navigation: He was raised well to recognize natural land marks, cardinal directions, basic astronomy for direction and maneuvering in forest areas.
~~~Bio~~~
Michel Was born to a Polish/American family that had lived in the deep south for generations. Having ties in the mid 1800s, Michael had grown up with the fundamentals of physical labor, living off the land and being a minimalist while appreciating the wonderful cook outs and family gatherings that would last for days. He had graduated highschool but never pursued college. Instead, he would become a tradesman and start off as a carpenter's apprentice and work his way up for the next decade. Earning himself the title as a master craftsman and establishing his own business. Michel had decided after working tirelessly year in and out that he would head to the old country and travel in Poland. Coming to stay with some family friends who lived in Rzeszów. Michel would continue his travels and eventually be one of the many passengers on flight 370.
Mammon's Greed has 7 more slots available, check out the slots to see if something catches your eye. The rp will start with a total of 5-6 people. Hope to rp with yall soon
Evenin, I have one Rp available based in wilderness survival but I will also be creating a second rp as well. Its going to be a Scifi non linear rp based with a mercenary crew surviving and profiting between an intergalactic war both with supply and weapon smuggling; espionage and other types of adventures. If youd like to be a part of it or help create it you're welcome to pm me.
Grew up in the south most of my life, been over to texas, Louisianna, the virginias, NC and tenesse. Also had a few opportunities to visit the islands and a couple of countries as well. Always been a meat lover and these four food cultures have been close to my heart. Comfort food that has been generational for my family and brought great memories as well. Making this thread to see what these kind of styles of food mean to you and what are some of your favorite dishes
(If I'm on my way to something and you want to progress, you can just take me there in the future. )
(nothing like that, the briefing itself will be uploaded to each of the crew members, but the finer points of the brief is for everyone to have their own directives and insights on how best to accomplish the mission)
One by one Chernobog watched as the first to arrive was Echo, The android he had come across a few years back being used for some low level deviancy rings such as cred pilfering, identity forgeries and the like. He would wave his hand away not so much as dismissive as it was acknowledgement. "All that matters is how you choose to move forward Echo." His eyes would drift to her before seeing the robotic cat make its way into the room.
Once Samantha made her presence known. He would incline his head towards her as well before sipping from the edge of the glass. The raw alcohol smell lightly burning the ends of his nose hairs and olfactory cells as he savored the drink for a moment longer. "As it was." He would start, taking note to the last two not present and would make a mental note of it for later as he began the brief. "We'll be heading over into a subsector of Urus Prime, a small backwater frostball that surprisingly produces a fair quantity amount of fusion cores and plasma based weaponry that has been utilized at the front of some of the battle lines both empires are battling in. This job is from the Caliphate of course, sabotage and decommissioning some of the geothermal plants to hault production and re armament of the Urus front lines." He would state as his fingers began taping onto the holoboard Infront of him. Putting in a few decryption commands before the request was presented at the center of the briefing table.
Within the briefing as it cycled through different sheets, showed access points and key production sites for the team to hit. Another point of reference is pointing out guard rotations and scheduling; cybernet weak points, structural weak points and the like. The third sheet that rotated through showed several exfil points, high value targets to either capture and interrogate or silence. As it cycled through. Some of the highlights Chernobog made were the focus of orbital targeting turrets, anti air turrets, radar systems and counter cloak tech.
When Chernobog spoke again he would place the glass onto its slotted diveted coaster. His eyes drifting from Sam and Echo. "Serdtse l'da, as its called. Regardless of remoteness, has a decent defense array just incase of espionage and sabotage. Our first point of focus should be either finding and securing a hole within the air defense net or creating one. Second will have to be low flight under the cover of night, though that the personnel are used to the dark once we're below minimum air elevation and use some of the cloaking and dampener auxillary systems in the shuttle. We should be able to ghost our way through." He would take a pause as he gathered his thoughts further.
"However, even though mission statement indicates destruction of both weapons and fusion cores. We are going to pilfer each docking sight and use a third party to have it sold to the caliphate instead with a 60/40 cut in our favor. That 60/40 only remains in our favor if we collected five thousand total varying plasma based weapon systems which are indicated in their weapon cases. It varies generally between 30 per case so Sam is going to utilize her A.I net with Echo's hacking abilities and take control of the shipment augs that will be available to load up. we will be hitting three sites, execution and efficiency is key. 170 crates from each site will be loaded for safe measure. As for the fusion cores, whatever we cant load up I will have Grunder rig with a time det fuse while me and Rodgers place at key structural points. If we cant find any of the high value targets, don't look too hard. Echo I want you to crack its security system and take all information on movements, weapon design/blueprints, r&d and the like so we can keep in a back pocket to sell to the highest bidder."
He would bring down the information for a moment before addressing the two. "What questions do you have for the mission while the others join us?"
Chernobog would be the first to arrive, as he did he would go into a side panel and hit some hot keys in a consecutive order to initiate both a temporal dampner and audio blanketer. He has had word of psychers and the like being able to hijack both communicative and projected psycho just from warp space. As it were, Chernobog was in no inclination to leak this plan. As it were, once Samantha initiated the safety protocols for the upcoming brief, he would move over to the synthesizer and place a smoked black glass and use his retina to be scanned into the machine.
At first there was a soft hum as the mass printer began to whirl to life, from there a liquid began to pour into the glass followed by a twist of limen, a knock off from Tera's own citrus fruit. From there the male would take his seat at the head of the briefing and begin to gently tap onto the panel as his cybernetic eyes began to follow the lines of encrypted code. Occasionally bringing the alcoholic beverage to his lips to gently sip the chilled liquid with a hint of citrus. Savoring the flavor even if it is printed; Chernobog doubt he'd ever make it to Tera. But as it was, he wasn't one to have to many reminiscent thoughts of childish dreams. But this small drink reminds him of a possibility he contemplated.
As it was, "Sam, I'll need the diagnostics of the propulsion engines and the reactor outputs. I doubt the last mechanic this ship saw was able to do much but if there is anything that has been left without repair I'd like to know about it. I'd also like you here physically, So go ahead and plug in these coordinates and join us with one of your physical bodies." He would plug in the coordinates directly into her system "RA 4h 44m 4s | Dec +24° 50′ 21." Heading towards a southern most portion of landmass in one of the smaller planet colonies associated with the Ursa Alliance. A geothermal arctic world that redirects and fabricates into fusion cores along with other munition development. Serdtse l'da, Chernobog recalls the name of it. From there he would slowly lean back into a comfortable angle and quietly wait for his retinue to show up. Sipping from the glass as he did.
Chernobog would sit in silence as he listened to Samantha's report. Lightly tapping a metallic finger onto the edge of the arm rest as he read over the clientele sheet and what was needed. He would flip through security reports and hijacked military movement commands as he slowly began to reach up. Letting the seal of the face shield depressurize as he removed the cover and allowed himself to breathe some "Fresh Air" as it were. Chernobog's green hued irises would move on from the docking procedures of the ship and let Samantha take over flight until they could find a replacement for the last crew member's "disappearance." as it were. His facial features sharp whilst he slowly rose from the helm's chair.
"Sam, I'll be in my quarters for a moment. Have our armorer, echo and Rogers ready at the briefing room. As for your request?" he would take pause for a moment and contemplate. "Yes, I like to have the new crewmembers understand expediency."
With that, Chernobog would turn away and take pause for a moment. His predatory gaze shifting along the outline of the helm's room. Taking a perceived moment to look over every minute detail of the ship's guidance and reactor readings. Regardless of his trust towards the A.I, anything can be corrupted. He had faith in Samantha, but he had no faith in the intentions of others. As it were, everything he read was normal and the subsystem commands and security nodes he created to back frame the integrity of Sam's quantum core was secured. Once finished, he would give command and helm back over to Sam before making his way to his quarters. Eyes observing and watching as he took in the Mammon.
Once Chernobog was inside his quarters, the commander would walk up to a large cylinder that would begin to boot and open up. Within was an biomodular medicae that would assist in the uninstallation of the augmented armor Chernobog wore. As it was, the feeling of synthetic neural synapsis being disconnected and the feed of combat stims being disconnected sent a shock into his system. Dropping his volemic pressure to bradycardic before entering a hypertensive state to compensated for the drop. The shakes would immediately start occurring as Chernobog's hands gripped the hand railings of the interior systems. His forearms cramping and muscles twisting as a dosage of dialzapen was injected at a slow push directly into his carotid. Flashes of lights and memories of the past rushed through the wracked and scarred brain of this man as the withdrawal symptoms began to lessen, the tremors in his body dissapearing as pools of chilled sweat pours down the male's lean body. Soon enough he had to hunch over to the biohazard receptacle and expel what little contents of nourishment he had. Lurching over and raggedly gasping as he rolled onto his back. Staring at the sterilized lighting of the interior room for a moment. "f**k.." is all that was said to no one in particular.
After a few minutes. The commander would be dressed and slowly begin to take his time towards the briefing room, giving time for others to prepare and make the allotted time for the upcoming mission.
Methodical heavy steps are heard as the figure moves throughout the undisclosed starport. The ballistic facial screen hiding the commander's features as he made his way along the path. His movements weren't rushed but held intent and purpose; the back of the fabric cloak he had over the armor fluttered and waved along like a small wake. He had finished the routine checks for the ship and Chernobog continued to read from a holodisk of the specs of his ship and the status of some of the auxiliary sub sectors and its amenities. As it were once he finished reading, the small nano optic cables that pooled from the tip of one of his fingers would begin to snake their way into the holo disk's cpu. Manipulating the data before erasing it complete while also causing most of any form of recoverable memory to be destroyed.
Just before Chernobog entered the pressurized channel lock between him and his ship, the figure would toss the disk into a compactor receptacle before glancing from behind the facial screen. His ship stood out proud in the ink dropped abyss that was space; two decades of smuggling and warring and it still brought a small ping of pride into his all but decrepit stim crippled heart. But what little fond reminiscence Chernobog was experiencing, it would fleetingly pass as the locks depressurized and allowed him access back onto his own ship. The militant conditioned steps would continue their methodical beat as he entered his battle ship and listened as an automatic voice confirmed successful disconnection from docking of the Starport and they were able to leave. "Sam." The distorted voice came through the vocal synthesizer as he spoke. "How are you and the ship feeling? Are we ready for our next client?" He would finish the question and find his place to sit at the helm. Not sure where the rest of the crew are but know they will bring themselves to check in soon.
Mammon's Greed has 7 more slots available, check out the slots to see if something catches your eye. The rp will start with a total of 5-6 people. Hope to rp with yall soon
[image: file770.com] Year 2517 AE: The Tartarus wars For the last three centuries; An intergalactic struggle has existed between the Ursa Arcturus alliance and the Delta Hyperbius Caliphate. Between Ideological differences and economic development along with expansionism between each others prospective galaxies. Hyperbius were the first to initiate transdimensional rift bombings. Leveling hab cities from orbit and Ursa responded with raid like hits along the trade lines along hyperbius outer systems and using anti matter strikes against their orbit relays and stations. The rift between the two galaxies have left it open for profitable black markets and smuggler ships to put themselves on the line to monetize both sides of the war, pirates and smugglers alike putting their lives on the line with intergang battles and trying to get through orbital space wars and the like. Its a dark future in this day and age, nothing guaranteed but the prospect of riches grows as the war prolongs itself.
The Mammon: Battleship classed smuggler [image: www.gameartlab.com][background color=var(--bbc-body-bg-color)]Specs: Class: Battleship Class Smuggling cruiser Engine: Quad Fusion Plasma Cores With Warp Drive capabilities Armor: Tri-Folded Adamantium layers with a reinforced prow for ramming and defensive capabilities Weapon systems: Prow based Partical godlancers with matter diffusers and hecutor plasma batteries with neutronium depleted warheads Main offensive weapon: Disruption Macrocannon used to send electrical disruption pulses to fry enemy ship hardware auxiliary weaponry: Boarding torpedoes and Lasburners Auxiliary systems: immaterial void shield used for cloaking and light to medium laser/plasma fire Ai operated battle analysis and combat system Sub systems: Biomodular adaptive hab units for crewman allowing for adaptation for specie specific living arrangements. Protein printer for mess hall Deployable "Life rafts" to exfil the Mammon incase of total catastrophic engine failure. Deployable Smuggler shuttle for orbital trade, operations and observation [image: cdnb.artstation.com]
Dislikes: E rations, clientele who don't honor a deal, insubordinate crew members. Disposition: Observant, stoic, ruthless.
Habits (biting nails, licking lips, etc): slight tremor that can progress when withdrawal symptoms begin to show
Dreams and Aspirations: To establish and run his own onworld smuggler colony to continue to profit off this war.
Notable Traits: Calculative and deceptive. Negative trait/s (min 1): Cold and disconnected
~~~ Physical traits ~~~
Height: 5'10
Weight: 165 (without armor) 220 (with)
Tattoos: None
Scars: Surgical scarring down the back, along the shoulders and down to the elbow. same scarring starting from the interior of the groin and outwards till it stops at the base of the shins. Augmentations: Surgeries allowing neurological fusion between his neuropath and the armor suit he wears. Eyes have been replaced with augmented cybernetics for both ultraviolet, frequency and radiation perception.
Eye Color: lime green
Hair Color/Length: sandy brown into a high fade with a clean trim.
~~~ Outfits and accessories~~~
Attire: Synth skin formed pants and a simple black shirt when out of armor. Armor: Ballistic reactive combat armor with neuropath fusion to user. Can protect from most kinetic based weapons, but weak to plasma or corrosive ammunition. Also capable of deploying combat stims and monitoring life vitals. Possible though not without repercussions to last within vacuumed space for no longer than 5 minutes within the suit. Weapon/s: Heavy [background color=var(--bbc-body-bg-color)]Bolter Pistol: a rocket propelled 20mm Semi/Burst functioning pistol with a stalker variant ammunition for Covert Ops. Las gun "Hell Rifle": a laser energy based rifle that is over charged by an external energy pack to provide increased armor piercing power [/background]
~~~Skills (1 related to ship operations 2 for character skill sets)~
Astropathy: Being well trained in exploring and coordinating his ship's movement intergalactically for two decades and having helmed several ships over the course of his life allows him to have an in-depth knowledge of travel between the two galaxies. giving his ship and crew an edge in both smuggling and battling. PsyOps: Having been at the point of dozens of missions of both espionage, covert operations and counter intelligence Chernobog had refined the skills that it takes to look at either individual interaction to the scale of intergalactic warfare and treat it like chess. His natural perception and processing capabilities influenced by warfare and his occupation amplifies his decision making abilities. Mercantilism: He is shrewd and perceptive when it comes to getting the best deals and twisting a client into the best outcome for chernobog and the crew. He knows his products and generally knows when its bad product, bad deal or double cross. Weakness: Stim addiction: Because of his past of having combat stims used on him during the experimental processes to fuse him to his combat suit as a teen. Chernobog needs to have a weekly injection of dialzapen in order to alleviate the massive withdrawals on his neurological and psychological health.
~~~Bio~~~
Having been brought up in the middle of this intergalactic war, chernobog was turned into a child soldier by the Hyberius caliphate. At the age of 12 was when he was surgically altered to wear the nanoskin and fusion armor; he was meant to be one of the two dozen martyrs for the caliphate. To be a sacrifice to show how far and how long the caliphate would be willing to go in order to win this war. He was expected to die, but regardless of the combat sims and the forced cognitive rewashing. Chernobog maintained a fraction of himself. However small it was, the only bit of animalistic desire to escape this hell hole and to be free of it all. When he didn't die from the initial waves, chernobog was repurposed for infiltration and psychological operations. Whether it was destabilization or assassination, women children or man. Death was left behind him. His codename was chernobog, a Teran name in reference to a slavic god of death. He was the butcherer of man, and Nicholaev lived up to that codename. It wasnt until he was left unsecured on the ship. Having thought the sedatives they pumped him to put him into a cationic state. Is when he would begin the path of his revenge, layer by layer, block by block and section by section. He would commit atrocities to those that held him captive until he made it to the helm. And with the compliance of the dieing helmsman; Did Chernobog escape off into the vasts of the black matter to recuperate and begin his legacy as the commander of Mammon.
TorkTheBear: This one isnt vulgar or sexual. But if i made one with it. I would keep you from rping in it TorkTheBear: It isnt appropriate to have a 13 year old rp vulgarly with anyone above 18 TorkTheBear: Regardless if you've been doing it TorkTheBear: That is my standard SiriusHoward: This is supposed to be entirely PG anyway, but I'm not complaining TorkTheBear: Relative. Death, possible murder cannibalism and violence isnt pg TorkTheBear: Thatd be 18+ SiriusHoward: I'm pretty much desensitized to every one of those SiriusHoward: Neither traumatized nor inclined to commit those acts TorkTheBear: Doesnt make it right TorkTheBear: Again. As rp host thats how i run my rps TorkTheBear: But seeing how this isnt going to be too extreme. Its meh for now SiriusHoward: Literally nobody cares if I'm too young for those except you TorkTheBear: Sounds like indifferent people. Im not those kinds of people SiriusHoward: They're not indifferent, I'm desensitized TorkTheBear: I hold myself and my rps accountable SiriusHoward: Besides, you're not getting into legal trouble, so leave me be man SiriusHoward: Please. TorkTheBear: No TorkTheBear: But if youre going to argue. Im going to have to ask you to delete your rp and leave sirius
There's no reason I would hate you for having your opinnion ashlyn. And I agreed with Strange as well. As far as the situation itself, its dead unless Sirius continues to bring it up.
A responsive voice would bring Michel from the slight blank stare of just base cognition to focus as his eyes drifted up to a man standing in front of him. The male would listen to Daemon's response but before the man could walk away, Michel would calmly hand the hatchet handle first to Daemon.
"This will make things a lot easier friend...Don't wander to far off, the fires are nearly burned out as is and I do not know what lives in these forests." Michel methodically spoke towards him. It wasn't from a place of deterrence but simply for Daemon to keep his ears and eyes alert for anything.
From there, Michel would slowly shift from the slump position against the tree and begin to lean forward; Letting the weight sink into his heels as he drove himself forward and upwards. Once he got himself standing, the man would begin to slowly walk along. Taking his time to slowly search as he first found a piece of luggage on wheels; Large enough for Michel do to what he needed to do. So as it was, the sound of slowly heavy steps slightly muffled by the soft lush undergrowth of the forest could be heard besides the occasional pops and cracks of the small petrol fires arrayed in various portions of the crash. Michel himself could be seen gathering snacks and various drinks, mostly if he could: Water, sodas and juices along with varying snacks and pre prepped meals. He took his time, letting the oak brown hued irises scan through the growing dark as Michel continued to gather until the point he felt more resistance to the weight of it all. From there, Michel would zip the luggage shut and bring it back to the point of the tree he was slumped against earlier.
Michel continued this process, occasionally stopping through his scavenging and foraging to hand over something to drink and eat to a child or to someone who asked. He knew, once the adrenaline wore off and the reality of the situation really sunk in: People were going to change and when supplies were improperly portioned and starvation hit. Humanity tends to have a very animalistic approach and usually leads to someone being crippled or killed. So on Michel went, gathering and divvying up the supplies appropriately until he had about five varying sized pieces of luggage he would secure from the zip ties he had within his own duffel bag. From there Michel would rest against the tree and quietly observe to see if any other survivors would be inclined to assist or needed help.
It had everything to do with his attitude and nothing to do with his age at first strange, your observation is pretty much on point both objectively to rps and to the situation. It has been dealt with by the administration so the incident is done with. But petty responses from sirius after his reprimandation reaffirm my stance on age restrictions
Evenin, I have one Rp available based in wilderness survival but I will also be creating a second rp as well. Its going to be a Scifi non linear rp based with a mercenary crew surviving and profiting between an intergalactic war both with supply and weapon smuggling; espionage and other types of adventures. If youd like to be a part of it or help create it you're welcome to pm me.
Hours had passed, the sun dipped and peered through the cracks along the mountain range as hues of golds, reds, yellows and oranges swirl across the sky before darkening. The smell of jet fuel permeating still but the fires had passed. smoldering the areas of the crash. Michel was still collapsed against the tree, slowly yet surely. Michel would twist his form from the uncomfortable positioned he simply collapsed against the tree in and felt the full impact of the crash after the adrenaline wore off. throbbing and piercing pain along his entire body brought flashes of searing hot whiteness into his gaze as snarling groans pierced through his cracked lips. The fire had taken a lot more than just plants and bodies. His throat parched from the vicious and merciless heat; It left him to crawl once more. His wavering gaze shifting from side to side as the male's ears still heard the echoes of cries of pain; cries of suffering. It remained with him as he continued to crawl forward: Veins along his forehead and neck visible from the amount of pressure his circulator system was creating to will his body to move. The male would be rewarded temporarily as he came across a shattered snack cart. Taking note of bottles of water amongst other beverages spilled and strewn across the scorched earth around them.
Eventually, his calloused fingertips would grip the feeble top of the bottle and slowly slip. The cracked lips bleeding from the dryness before cool water washed over his parched throat and deep into his gullet. Michel would consume, slowly but methodically. Savoring every drop to the point of which he cut open the nearly empty bottle to make sure he got every drop. Once he had recovered some hydration, he would roll onto his back and slowly prop himself forward. Letting his weary eyes adjust as dusk began to approach.
"....We need to make a fire.." he said to no one. "Who here is able to move...Able to work together...We must do something before we run out of light." The male said. Searching or wandering in the dark in a land he was unfamiliar with was more or less a death sentence. Michel would go out in the morning to explore but for right now recovering and establishing a pit fire was all his mind could manage to come up with on the short time he had.
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