Roleplaying Forum. Enjoy.
 
HomeCalendarFAQSearchMemberlistUsergroupsRegisterLog in

Share | 
 

 A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)

View previous topic View next topic Go down 
Go to page : 1, 2, 3  Next
AuthorMessage
Koneko

avatar

Posts : 29
Points : 34
Join date : 2013-05-21
Age : 23

PostSubject: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Tue May 21, 2013 11:19 am

~ A Tearful Transmission ~


Overview
This story takes place in a deep-space region, in a vast stratum of the blackened void known as the Cloudsea; where titanic landmasses float in the air, and monstrous skybeasts soar through the solar flares of the nearest stars. The Cloudsea is believed to be endless, and while humanity and its thousands of generations have explored and conquered much of it through the use of aeronautical space-vessels, the vast and mostly unexplored frontier stretches on forever, deep into the endless unknown, where the blackened pit is only illuminated by the faint flickering of stars, like a lantern trying not to burn away its last drop of oil in the dead of night.

Much of the human race lives and prospers under the dominion of the Admiralty of Tel' Avas, an almighty government which rules from Paradigm, the oldest and most powerful construct of the human race. Ten lesser Admiralty cities (called Satellites) surround Paradigm in a great rim, and within these cities live the millions of Admiralty citizens who pledge soul and fealty to the all-powerful Admiralty Board, a council of four whom command all of Tel' Avas' military from high atop the Paradigm's High Throne.

There are those who refuse to live by the Admiralty's rule however. Deep in the grey stratum outside of the Admiralty's protective aegis exists the Cloudsea Frontier, a brutal and lawless place where roving skypirates battle for control of the skies and massive skybeasts rampage through the clouds.

For a thousand years the Admiralty and the Frontier have co-existed in an uneasy peace. Hatred and mistrust between the two is a tradition passed on from generation to generation, and the precarious ceasefire which has existed between the two sides has hung precariously in the balance for as long as any one can remember. Only one thing keeps the two sides from continuing the wars of the past.

A thousand years ago, during the apex of a chaotic and bloody conflict between the Admiralty and the Frontier which had seen millions dead, the closest thing to what the people of the human race could consider a "goddess" appeared in the very chamber of the Admiralty Board. Elsewhere, deep in the frontier, in a secret meeting place where all of the frontier's pirate lords were convening, this "goddess" appeared as well. In two different places, tens of thousands of leagues apart, it communicated with the two warring factions.

This "goddess" took the form of an adult woman, and it spoke into the very minds of those present in the two different places. It introduced itself as "Aveline", and proceeded to dictate to both the members of the Admiralty Board and the pirate lords that there would be no more war between them. In no uncertain terms, she informed them that should their war continue, every human being on the Cloudsea, from both the Admiralty and the Frontier, would be killed.

When both the Admiralty Board and the skypirate lords scoffed at her, Aveline disappeared. The very next day, Ostradis (the Satellite City closest to Paradigm) erupted in explosions of pale, white flames. Hundreds of thousands lost their lives in the sudden catastrophe. Elsewhere, in Lark's Landing (a Frontier trading port located not far from Blackdown) a titanic, impossibly large Arkdragon suddenly appeared above the skies of the town. The Arkdragon, a nigh-mythological creature which had only been glimpsed three prior times throughout history, laid waste to the settlement before disappearing. Later that night, as confusion and fear spread throughout the Admiralty and the Frontier, Aveline appeared once again to the Admiralty Board and the pirate lords, and once more she beckoned them to end their war. This time, they listened.

In the thousand years since Aveline first appeared and demonstrated her dread miracles on the world, both the Admiralty and the Frontier have been careful to not ignite another worldwide conflict against one another. Despite this, hatred still exists between them, and the two sides have been unable to bridge their distances.

Technology

The Cloudsea goes on forever, and in order to traverse its distances, people commandeer airships. These skyfaring vessels can range in size from small personal cloudskiffs to massive military carriers capable of garrisoning squadrons of smaller vessels. The largest skyfaring vessels in all the Cloudsea are the crown flagships of the Admiralty, a fleet of ten mighty carriers which have become a fearsome symbol of the Admiralty's power.

In the distant past, airships used primitive "neuton engines" to stay airborne. Neuton engines required terraxium, a special kind of natural ore to function, and in the bygone epochs of human civilization, when the ancestors of the Admiralty first settled the great landmasses of the Cloudsea, terraxium-rich lands were the cause of many conflicts between the many disparate groups of settlers. It wasn't until the last millennium when the valentin engine was invented. The valentin engine made use of etheris, a magical element found in the blood of certain species of rare skyfaring fauna, to power not only the aviation engines of an airship but the entire energy framework of a vessel. Furthermore, a very small mount of etheris is required to power a ship's valentin engines, and while the substance is highly unstable and dangerous to human beings if mishandled, its discovery changed aeronautics forever.

With the discovery of etheris came the invention of the paling, a wondrous culmination of both magic and engineering. Palings are magical shields which enshroud airships, protecting them absorbing significant amounts of damage. Paling technology (along with most military and scientific advancements throughout the ages) was developed by the Admiralty, and since the first paling prototype was created, the technology has advanced significantly. The Admiralty has so perfected paling technology that they have veiled Paradigm as well as all ten of its Satellites with great city-wide shields. Since the introduction of these greater palings to their settlements, citizens of the Admiralty no longer face the dangers of the massive skybeasts which they once had to fight back.

Such is not the case for settlements in the Frontier however. The Admiralty has closely guarded its city-wide paling technology, and so the people of the Frontier still have to defend themselves and their homes against the vicious skymonsters which soar through the clouds.

The trading and gathering of etheris is closely monitored by the Admiralty, and it possesses a firm grasp on most of the Cloudsea's supply. Those who live in the Frontier have access to etheris, but they must acquire it from the source itself, the rare fauna which carry it in their blood. Making things difficult however is the fact that the beasts which carry etheris in their blood tend to be massive, vicious and incredibly dangerous to hunt. Nevertheless, brave and industrious crews of frontier men and women risk their lives to hunt these monstrous creatures for the powerful and priceless substance.

Society (The Admiralty of Tel' Avas)
The Admiralty of Tel' Avas is the cradle of human civilization within the Cloudsea. All human beings, no matter how different or alike the ensuing ages have made them, sprang forth from Paradigm, the massive arcology which acts as the Admiralty's seat of power.

Legend tells that once, in an epoch beyond memory, humanity lived on the ancient earth beneath the clouds. There, they erected the pillars of a great earthbound civilization. They lived and thrived, discovering the technology that those of the Admiralty use today. This great civilization prospered until the dread cataclysm struck. The fires spread from one end of the earth to the other, burning all in their wake until a black, acrid mist covered the earth and all of humanity's shining cities were reduced to ash and ruin. No one knew from what darkened corners the fires had arisen from, nor the reason why they could not be extinguished.

It was then that the ancestors of the Admiralty constructed a great flying ark and ascended toward the clouds, where they founded a great civilization in the heavens.

Legend speaks of Paradigm being the great ark which lifted humanity towards the clouds, but such a thing is impossible to prove, for the Admiralty guards the ancient records of its history within the labyrinthine vaults that snake inside Paradigm.

Throughout its recent history, the Admiralty has been a society based on absolute order and law. There is precious little freedom in the Admiralty, as children are moulded into the roles that society requires and learn to accept these roles and to excel in them. Whether they join the military or work within the civilian sector, citizens of the Admiralty are expected to do as is expected of them without a word in protest. Any kind of rebellion within Admiralty society is quickly stomped. In essence, the Admiralty is very much like Paradigm, a great and monstrous machine with every cog spinning in place.

A strict two-class system dominates Admiralty life. The lesser of the two classes are the common civilians as well as the majority of the Admiralty's military. The second class, or "descendants", as they are prone to refer to themselves, are the ruling caste, and are allowed much more freedom than those in the lower class. They are the progeny of the ancient families who are said to have arrived within the Paradigm as it ascended from the burning world below. These families are the nobility of the Admiralty, and they all command the higher positions of government.

There are ten Great Houses within the Admiralty, each of them older and more powerful than the last. These Great Houses each rule over one of the ten Satellite Cities. Every generation, four individuals are elected from the ten Great Houses to serve on the Admiralty Board, the council which rules over the millions of citizens that encompass the Admiralty's grand civilization.

Society (The Frontier)
In the Admiralty, all children are taught that the frontier is a lawless and brutal place where brigands, thieves, and murderers run free, where the skies are dotted with vicious beasts that swoop down from the clouds and eat those not strong enough to protect themselves. These are not lies.

The Frontier is a lawless place, but it is also free. Freedom from the Admiralty and its laws are why, throughout the long ages, people have escaped from Paradigm and its satellites to live and die as they saw fit in the grey stratum outside of the Admiralty's borders. Upon choosing a life in the Frontier, it is only a person's own ability, strength, and cunning which determines whether they survive.

It is a wild place, where rival sky pirate gangs constantly war against each other. Here, criminals attempt to escape the Admiralty's firing squads, while sour-smelling bounty hunters try to hunt them down. The Frontier is a world for the untethered, for those without a place of their own.

However, as dangerous as it is, the Frontier isn't completely lawless. In recent centuries, there has been a growing call for order, and many of the small towns and settlements within the Frontier have attempted to make the lives of their citizens safer. Now there are defence systems that guard against skybeast attacks, and militias that dissuade pirates from attacking. All in all, the Frontier is still an untamed place where one can easily lose their life on any given day, but it has recently grown into something resembling a society.

The town of Blackdown, an old and crumbling little trading port carved unto the side of a rocky islet, has grown in reputation as a place where the seeds of a functioning government are being sown. The Warford family, the traditional "mayors" of the town, have worked tirelessly for the past fifty years to make Blackdown a safe haven within the Frontier. There are those however who view any kind of establishment of order within the Frontier as a dire evil, and they would rather see Blackdown in flames than have anything resembling the Admiralty take spawn.

~ Character Types ~


Regular Humans
The regular, atypical human male or female. They are the dominant social group within the Cloudsea, and are able to go freely wherever they please without being persecuted or detested. They are an intelligent and wily people who have been educated in the ways of aeronautics as well as a myriad of other subjects since birth. Due to their upbringing, they are the most intelligent of the three different social groups as well as the best traditional sailors.

Generally, the people of the Cloudsea can be split down the middle into two groups. Those who live in the Admiralty's good graces and those who don't. Aboard the Paradigm (the Admiralty's great city-sized arcology), the highest echelons of society live their lives in splendour, free of any worry or danger. Surrounding the Paradigm are the different satellite cities, each one founded upon the plains of flying landmasses, which are home to the millions of citizens who choose to live within the Admiralty's protective aegis.

Outside of the Admiralty's influence, in the fringes of the Cloudsea, lies the frontier. The frontier is a lawless place, where skypirates and massive beasts prowl the skies. Here, people live without bonds, free of the Admiralty's totalitarian reign, but are in turn forced to protect themselves.

Abyssers
The Abyssers are, for lack of a better term, strange. Though they've lived in the Cloudsea for the past three hundred years, not much is known about them. They are a closed-off, insular, oftentimes misunderstood people, and it is said that their genetic make-up is different from regular humans. It is believed that the Abyssers cannot breathe the air of the Cloudsea, thus they wear decorative breathing masks for survival. No Abysser has the same breathing mask, and no Abysser has ever been seen without one. Each mask is as unique as its wearer.

The Abyssers are a warrior race who came from the mysterious world below the Cloudsea many centuries ago aboard a great fleet of strange, ancient airships. They spoke a bizarre obsolete version of the common language, and they demanded a place amidst the satellite cities where they could live freely. The Admiralty saw them as invaders, and a war broke out between the two. Owing to their overwhelming numbers and advanced warships, the Admiralty won that conflict, and set the Abyssers to slavery. In the frontier however, where the laws of the Admiralty hold no power, escaped Abysser slaves are able to live freely. Most of them are bi-lingual, knowing both their own language, and the common language.

They are traditionally taller than regular humans, and their bodies are lithe and powerful. They are savants with hand-to-hand weapons, and it is said that an Abysser, male or female, has a thousand ways to kill someone. Abyssers are generally of a pale to olive-skinned complexion, and many of them have dark crimson hair. Some rare Abyssers have golden-blonde hair, and these are sold at auction for considerably high prices.

Abyssers make the very best soldiers, but are poor sailors and are not well-versed in technology. However, when it comes to piloting their own airships (most of which have been destroyed), the Abyssers can be masterful navigators.

Ryx'ah
Ryx'ah is the commonly used collective-noun to describe this intelligent, sophisticated and varied race as a whole. The Ryx'ah are a wide collection of anthropomorphic animals. If an animal exists, then you can place a fair amount of money down, knowing that there's a Ryx'arian who takes on the aesthetical appearance and traits of that animal. Of course, there's a rare divide between common animals, animals that are extinct and the beasts that wander the neverending Cloudsea. It is common to see a walking wolf, but rare to see a walking dragon. Either way, neither are discriminated against among their own kind; generally favouring a friendly attitude to all of their fellow-kind out there; rare or not. There are some, however, who insist that they be banished from the Cloudsea.

A single member of this race is referred to as a Ryx'arian, usually followed by the animal that they represent. The Ryx'ah are a proud and intelligent race known for their abilities to get things done, no matter the task. They're determined, yet each sub-species of the Ryx'ah will take on the commonly associated traits of the animal that they represent. For example, a Ryx'arian Wolf will usually be proud, yet reserved to those that he/she does not know. But this also means that they're probably very good at working as part of a team. However, this should not be taken as a stone-set rule. It's usually true, but remember... not every crow will lower its beak into the water where the crocodile waits.

There are lots of myths and legends surrounding the origins of this clever race. Some say that a long time ago, during a period of time that most have forgotten, a race of super-intelligent beings ventured to the ends of the Cloudsea in a titanic vessel that they called home. As a result of this, people believe that the magic they found there was so powerful, it killed millions of their kind as they tried to study and understand it. However, there were some who survived. These survivors vowed to return one day, with magic of their own. And that's exactly what they did. They returned, and rivalled the powerful magic with their own. They were then locked into a stalemate for centuries on end, forever stuck in a loop of endless battles; where time itself became distorted, as did the minds of those who fought.

Eventually, they gave in once more, and made an agreement with the Goddess Aveline (who was behind the incredible magic) in exchange for their lives. They promised never to return, if they could leave with some of her power. The Goddess agreed, and turned the beings into wide variety of anthropomorphic animals. This gave them incredible senses, advanced strength, immeasurable speed... and more importantly, a new beginning. From that point onwards, they became a new race... the Ryx'ah.

The Ryx'ah are most commonly found to be navigators, strategists, merchants, hackers, engineers, or technicians. They're considered to be great allies, and for some unfortunate souls, terrible enemies. They integrate with human society well, and often seek relationships with those lucky enough. They are considered to be an exotic bunch with many secrets and dark pasts. They have also been known to hide such things behind masks of friendliness, and have therefore been deemed untrustworthy by some. Nevertheless, their technology is among the best, which has also landed them a favourable position in the Cloudsea. They inhabit both the Inner Cloudsea, and the Cloudsea Frontier.


~ The Goddess Aveline and The Gifted Children ~

All forms of supernatural "magic" in the Cloudsea are believed to come from one source: the horrifying and incomprehensible entity known only as "Aveline". Aveline is a mysterious sentient being which made "her" existence known to the people of the Cloudsea approximately one thousand years ago. Though it prefers to be designated as "female", it is a shapeless, all-powerful abstract capable of distorting the very reality of the world. It is believed that if Aveline wished it, she could cause the entirety of the human race to disappear in the blink of an eye.

Throughout the thousand years since she appeared, her actions have been deemed puzzling and impossible to predict, like that of an unruly child's. She has in turn been every race's greatest enemy as well as its greatest benefactor. At times, she has caused unexplained devastation to human beings, as in the day when every person in the world who bore the name "Rachel" inexplicably fell dead. Other times, she has granted them deliverance: a prime example being when she struck the Abbadon plague from the blood of the millions who lay dying in quarantine vaults all over the Cloudsea. In any case, Aveline is seen as a demon by most races, and the utterance of her name alone is strictly forbidden in many places throughout the world.

One of Aveline's most mysterious and utterly horrifying miracles took place four hundred years ago in the city of Alma Victoria, one of the Admiralty's oldest and most populated port satellites. On a breezy and sun-drenched afternoon, every child younger than the age of thirteen started to viciously attack everyone around them. The children, of which there were tens of thousands, seemed possessed, and screamed violently as they clawed and bit at anyone unlucky enough to be near them. The children were quickly rounded up and placed into holding cells. No one could explain the sudden rage that had come over them. Soon, people everywhere across the city started whispering the forbidden name, as was the case whenever the world was faced with something dark and unexplainable.

By the time the sun went down, the suspicions of the people proved correct. As night fell across Alma Victoria, the imprisoned children's skin began to glow with a ghostly pale white light. While security forces all across the city stood slack-jawed whilst staring at the strange phenomenon of the children's glowing skin, the unthinkable happened. Huge explosions of unnatural white fire started to erupt all across the city. Thousands perished in the blasts, and suddenly the citizens of Alma Victoria flooded the streets, trampling over each other in hopes of evacuating the city on their airships.

By the first light of dawn, no one remained in the smoking, fiery city except the children in their cells and the corpses in the streets. When the children woke up, they were lucid and had returned to normal. However, their memories of the previous day were gone. Three weeks passed, and the children were left abandoned while the people of Alma Victoria retreated to the Paradigm, the Admiralty's capital ship, to seek help.

When the citizens returned with two Admiralty war galleons, all of the children were once again rounded up and placed under close observation. The children, much to the amazement of the Admiralty scientists who monitored them, began to exhibit amazing and supernatural gifts. Some of them could create small sparks of white flames in their hands, while others could generate electricity. The strange abilities of the children varied greatly, but all of them shared one defining aspect-- at night, their skin would glow with a feint ghostly light.

Many of the scientists believed that the abilities these children had were blessings in disguise, while others believed the children corrupted with the "Taint of Aveline", and were considered too dangerous and unpredictable to live amongst the rest of humanity. The government of the Admiralty agreed, and thus, these tens of thousands boys and girls, who would be known by future generations as "The Children of Aveline", were imprisoned within a fleet of cramped transportation airships and were taken far to the frontier, to live the rest of their lives outside of human civilization in closely monitored exile.

Upon learning of the devastation which they were blamed for, many of the children became suicidal. Others pledged not to have children of their own. Because of this, most of the bloodlines within this collective of children did not continue in the four hundred years since Alma Victoria's destruction. Some of the children did go on to pass on their genes however, and their descendants, who now number less than four hundred, are today known by a different name. The Gifted Children.

The history of the Children of Aveline is a story known by every schoolchild in the world, thus the The Gifted Children, their descendants, are treated with fear and scorn wherever they travel. Most of them try to hide their gifts, while others are empowered by them and seek their fortunes as mercenaries or as part of airship crews (which, coincidentally, doesn't stop them from being treated as if they were inhuman). The most notorious and feared pirates have at least one Gifted Child as a part of their crew. The Admiralty, it seems, didn't keep a close enough eye on them.

A Gifted Child's abilities are closely tied to their emotions. The more emotionally unstable a Gifted Child becomes, the harder it is to control their abilities. Most Gifted Child's abilities start to manifest during their teenage years through changes in their body as well as a change in persona (including the onset of highly disturbing dreams and hallucinations), which makes it incredibly difficult for most of them to control their powers. Sadly, when most families find out that one of their children is a Gifted Child, that child is typically forced out of the household.

All Gifted Children have the ability to create fire, but each is also born with a second set of unique abilities. There have been hundreds of different kinds of these abilities recorded throughout history-- ranging from highly supernatural feats like teleportation to more mundane feats like being able to see from great distances. It is known that even the most highly trained of Gifted Children use their abilities at great physical and mental duress. Because of this, it is believed that every individual use of a Gifted Child's abilities eats away at their lifespan horrifically. Most Gifted Children refer to the Goddess Aveline as their "Mother".

Paradigm
Paradigm: a rich, thriving flagship that serves as the largest Admiralty settlement known to all of mankind. It is currently the temporary homeworld of the human race, but is inhabited by all of the known races of the Cloudsea. This prosperous city is best known as a haven for the arts, and all things noble in design. The majority of its inhabitants are involved in foreign trade or alchemical and aerodynamic engineering. It is considered notable for its preponderance of equestrian statues, lush fountains and sophisticated architecture. Paradigm houses the Admiralty's Military Headquarters, which as expected, allows the city to be guarded by expertly trained forces. In order to join Paradigm's Military Force, you must have been born in Paradigm.

But of course, everybody knows that the fanciful architecture and modern appeal is just a guise to cover up the truth. Paradigm is like any other city out there, as dangerous as any pirate's airship, and as tempting as any tavern wench to get lost in their ways of noble rule. It's strength is unquestionable, but most of the inhabitants are not. They cling to their rich and fanciful lives like it's their final clutch of eggs. It's quite evidently a strong, military-based settlement, and it shows with the lack of crime. The rich, however, continue to take pity on those less fortunate, and pay off the local guards with whatever riches they ask for. Rebellions have been stopped. Protests have been crushed. Civilians have been struck down. And what has been done about it? Nothing. Nobody dares question the rule over Paradigm. It's the only rule that everybody follows, after all. Even those of the Cloudsea Frontier.

Even so, the rule of Paradigm can be firm but fair. Usually the nobles try not to stick their noses where they don't belong, and people keep things to themselves as much as possible. But of course, with living there, come the benefits. Very good clinical facilities, lots of entertainment, idealistic military protection, lots of jobs being available, brilliant educational institutes... everything you'd expect from the capital space-city of humankind. As long as you know that you should go poking your nose in the business of those who are richer than you, you're going to have a fairly nice time. Oh, and no pirates either. Yeah, they're usually frowned upon.

The flag of the admiralty dons a navy background with a white horse. It's eyes are yellow, but this has been changed to red eyes to serve upon military vessels. Nearly everybody knows what the flag looks like, and what to expect if you see the flag followed by cannon-fire. Upon the flag, this is written:

“I have sinned and I have suffered,
Played the hero and the knave;
Fought for belly, shame, or country,
And for each have found a grave. “

~ The Starting Point ~

The story is going to start off in Blackdown, a small frontier settlement located far from the Admiralty. Blackdown is a unique little town, in which a lot of different sorts of people live together without too much hassle. Here you'll find ex-pirates and ex-military, as well as escaped slaves and even a few retired bounty hunters who want nothing more than to live quiet lives. All in all, Blackdown is the place where someone goes to forget the past and to start anew, and thus many of the families living here have their own dark histories which they want to keep hidden.

Our characters will all be residents of this town, so we should all have some prior interactions with each other. I'm hoping we can all work out our intersecting histories somehow. Anyway, the idea is for our characters to not be particularly experienced when it comes to warfare and being part of a ship's crew. Though we all have our own individual skills, I don't want any of us start off incredibly powerful or talented. We will, of course, become more battle-hardened and mature as the RP goes along though. To start off with, our characters will be part of the town's small ill-trained and ill-equipped militia. I will make the starting post once all of the characters have been created, and confirmed. I'll be sure to send a message your way if I think something needs to be changed.

Thanks for reading everybody! Let me know what you think! Please fill out your character sheets with as much detail as possible. No Gifted Children, please! It probably didn't need to be said, but here it is, just to make sure!

~ Character Sheet ~


Name:
Age:
Gender:
Race:

Height:
Weight:
Hair Style:
Hair Colour:
Eye Colour:
Physical Description:
Usual Attire/Equipment:
Distinguishing Features:

Reference Picture (if possible):

Fitness:
Health Conditions:
Criminal Record?:
Military Service?:
Educated? How Long?:
Languages Spoken:
Disabilities?:

Biography:
Personality:
Sexual Orientation:
Significant Others:
Current Living Quarters:

Hobbies and Interests:
Life Ambitions:
Current Occupation:
Rank (if applicable):
Skills and Talents (maximum of 3):

On a basis of 1 to 10, with 1 being the lowest and 10 being the highest, please rate your character's relationship status for each of the three playable races: (for example, if your character doesn't like the Ryx'ah at all, then you'd give them a 1)

On the same basis, please rate your character's relationship with the Admiralty:

On the same basis, please rate your character's relationship with the Cloudsea Frontier:

Airship Owner?:
Land Owner?:
Valuable Possessions?:
Other:


Last edited by Koneko on Thu May 23, 2013 6:36 am; edited 1 time in total
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Crow

avatar

Posts : 85
Points : 119
Join date : 2011-07-27
Age : 21
Location : Wales

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Thu May 23, 2013 5:33 am

I'm going to post the picture reference now, and start work immediately on my character. Feel free to speculate~! Nice to have you on-board Feline, you're going to fit in extremely well here, given that, what with your wit and skill, you're essentially Dante/Zero and I, in female form, albeit with a much better work ethic!


Character Sheet



Name: Aeron Raynes is his birth name.
Age: 17
Gender: Male, albeit androgynous
Race: Human, with diluted blood of a Ryx'arian Albino Crow
Height: 5"9
Weight: 10 Stone
Hair Style: Please refer to the Reference Picture here, it's very accurate
Hair Colour: Targaryen white
Eye Colour: Ruby-red, for lack of a better cliché
Physical Description: Aeron is lithe and poorly built. He is fairly tall, but there is always bigger fish on the Cloudsea. In that same vein, he is certainly not muscle-bound, with his muscles being poorly toned. Though this would suggest a lack of fortitude (Which is technically correct), Aeron likes to think he makes up for it with grim determination.
Usual Attire/Equipment: He usually wears a black woollen coat, that extends down to just above his knees, the cuff of which is usually turned upwards. He always has a small piece of purple string in his right pocket, to remind him of an old friend. Barring that, the only constant equipment he carries is his wit.
Distinguishing Features: His being androgynous, his white hair, and his red eyes. He likes to think that his 'high born' accent is, too.

Reference Picture (if possible): http://oi43.tinypic.com/2ztdb9t.jpg

Fitness: As has already been mentioned, Aeron is rather lithe, and this gives him a disadvantage, with regards to stamina. That, and given how he lives, which shall be explained later, he doesn't get, nor does he need much exercise.
Health Conditions: Healthy, and surprisingly well fed. His... former 'employers' seem to know his respective value.
Criminal Record?: None
Military Service?: A former Junior Officer in the Paradimic Military. M.I.A. and officially assumed dead by the Paradimic Military.
Educated? How Long?: A private education until he was 15, whereupon he began his army training, having lied about his age. Left the army aged 16.
Languages Spoken: Common Tongue
Disabilities?: None

Biography: Born into a life of luxury and wealth on Paradigm, Aeron was generally given what might as well have been the best. Though not spoiled, he always went to bed with a good meal in his stomach and a smile on his face. His family were the Raynes, an ancient, albeit recently increasingly minor, noble family called the Raynes. An offshoot of an even more powerful house, the Raynes were begun by a member of that noble household disowned after a marriage to a Ryx'arian Albino Crow which, incidentally, is where their distinctive familial appearance comes from, as well as their vanity (though the level of this varies from person to person) and their fascination of mental pursuits, whether it be puzzles, games, or strategy and warfare.

Being born into such an illustrious family left Aeron with a slew of advantages. He received a top notch education, where he excelled in Mathematics, Common Tongue and History. He had always had his sights trained upon a career as an Officer though, one of glory, wryness, and most of all, intellectual challenge. However, he knew he would have to start somewhere and so, with a little black lie, and the appropriate consent, Aeron found himself embarking on his Military Training. Through his competence, he left the training program as a Corporal, and was soon serving actively.

This seemed to be where Aeron's luck ran dry. His first mission, a simple, routine scouting operation, to detail some minor pirate installations in some minor asteroid belt on the Frontier, was disastrous. Having been given either out of date, or simply false intelligence, Aeron's platoon was lead into an ambush, one that claimed the lives of most of his section, and leaving him captive.

From here, Aeron was sold into slavery, for quite an extortionate price, given his rare appearance. Thankfully, his high price spared him from the brothels and other equally disreputable houses, and he mainly served the relatively powerful in the frontier, as a minor servant of varying degree. It was his being a slave that took him to Blackdown. When his employer filed for bankruptcy, or rather, when those who came to collect their debt took everything he owned, Aeron was left to fend for himself, and so joined the Militia as a way of keeping fed.

Personality: Aeron is at heart an individual, obviously, though to him this means more than simply being unique, for him, being independence is what sentience is about. While he isn't an idiot - if he needs to do something, or is being threatened to, he shan't refuse for the sake of it - the absence of choice, for him, is exceptionally painful. He is claustrophobic, and on the opposite end of the scale, adores setting sail under the open sky. He loves intellectual pursuits like chess or riddling, and is not a very hands on person. He also enjoys the arts - writing well and drawing less well - but has always wanted to learn to play an instrument, his favourites being the piano, guitar and violin. Lastly, he likes to sing, but doubts his ability.

Being formerly part of an ennobled family, Aeron does not speak any slang, and tries to be as politically correct as possible. If he has any reservations about a race or creed, he keeps it well hidden. Having grown up with little to no exposure to the world outside of the Old Money of his family, and his rather exclusive cliques, Aeron is generally uncomfortable around new people. When he does open up though, his honest personality shines through.

With friends, Aeron is usually eager to help, though he always has an opinion about something. Often playing the pragmatist, he is highly educated, and almost always cannot stand incompetence, being used to seeing people do their jobs correctly. He come across as condescending, complaining and mean spirited, even when trying to be helpful, but he doesn't like appearing as such, he just simply wants people, and wants to see them try their best. Something he direly wants from himself, despite his usually well-hidden insecurities.

Sexual Orientation: Bi-curious. He hasn't had the chance to explore the inklings of what might be called urges to confirm his theories, nor has he been forced to and nor does he currently wish to.
Significant Others: His family is presumably still intact, but Aeron wouldn't know. No spouse or children.
Current Living Quarters: He currently rents a small, rundown room above a pub.

Hobbies and Interests: He likes to read, as well as write, but he rarely does either of these things as of late, given where he has been. As such, he is open to broadening his horizons, and explore, and this is where his extremely rare hedonic tendencies can come in.
Life Ambitions: 1) To have a family. 2) To be remembered. 3) To rule/lead.
Current Occupation: A militia-man, and waits in the pub below his room to serve as pay for his rent.
Rank (if applicable): Former Corporal of the Paradigm Armed Forces
Skills and Talents (maximum of 3): 1) Has been taught how to command small groups of men. (Though is untested) 2) He feels that he has a way with words, though this might just be arrogance. 3) Can use standard issue P.A.F. equipment and weaponry

On a basis of 1 to 10, with 1 being the lowest and 10 being the highest, please rate your character's relationship status for each of the three playable races: He genuinely has no reason to dislike any, though Humans and Ryx'ah are 8, with the Abyssal at 7, the sole reason for this being that Aeron feels that he belongs to these races and the communities built around them.

On the same basis, please rate your character's relationship with the Admiralty: 8. He served in their military, and feels no ill will towards them for his capture.

On the same basis, please rate your character's relationship with the Cloudsea Frontier: 5. Though he dislikes his circumstances as any would, he has been in the situation long enough, and is practical enough, to have accepted it as home, whether it is temporary, or not.

Airship Owner?: No
Land Owner?: No
Valuable Possessions?: None of note
Other: I'm using this unused catergory to store editted in information until I can fit it into the rest of the Character Sheet. Additional:

- Aeron has a rather weak immune system to reflect his mixed heritage.

- Aeron's right arm is feathered up to the shoulder, and his hand is a talon, with three claws - two facing downwards, one upwards. This allows him a supurb grip to a certain point, where he literally cannot encase his hand any tighter. As such, he cannot grip thinner objects, such as pencils, tight enough to use them, but can grip a sword handle harder than any normal man.

- When coughing, Aeron rarely sounds as if he is cawing.

- Because of his crow heritage, Aeron is ambidextrous                          



Statistics     


Physical
  Strength: 2
  Agility: 4
  Stamina: 2

Mental
  Intelligence: 4
  Wisdom: 3
  Perception: 3

Combat
  Melee Fighting: 3
  Ranged Fighting: 3
  Warfare: 6


Last edited by Clockwork Crow on Mon Sep 30, 2013 8:33 am; edited 8 times in total
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Dante
Admin
Admin
avatar

Posts : 105
Points : 164
Join date : 2011-01-04
Age : 22
Location : Wales

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Fri May 24, 2013 7:21 am

~ Character Sheet ~

Name: Vallance T. Flynn
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human

Height: 5'11”
Hair Style: Medium-long (unkempt, but somewhat stylish)
Hair Colour: Chestnut brown
Eye Colour: Pale green

Physical Description:
Vallance has a well-toned body that he likes to keep in reasonable shape, if only to keep up with the demands of his job. He's fit, and likes to keep it that way. He's also fairly tall, reaching just under the 6-foot mark. He's reasonably handsome by comparison to most, and his eyes have a cool passion to them that shows both his troubled past, and his flirtatious nature, should he glance your way. Vallance has fair but pale skin, something that allows him to blend in with most of human society. His hair is somewhat unkempt, but maybe this can be pinned down to all of the running around he does. His posture shows his confidence, and might possibly show off his strength, which has been overlooked by far too many. By all means, he's doesn't have big muscles, but there is something about him that displays his hidden strength. He carries himself well, and very rarely slouches. He's the type of guy that leans against the wall at the back of the room, rather than sit.

Usual Attire/Equipment:
He wears expensive, white button up shirts with dark trousers and a brown belt around his waist. Vallance dons a thin, black waistcoat with polished brass buttons. Around his neck is a black neck-tie, giving him a rather formal appearance. He polishes his black shoes like that of a military man, keeping them in tip-top condition whenever possible. His white sleeves are almost always rolled up to his elbows for convenience during work, countering the formal neck-tie with some informality.

He usually has brown, leather straps hung over both of his shoulders that have holsters for his two guns; both made from brass and copper, with reinforcements of steel lining where applicable. They're standard enforcement firearms that he's made some minor alterations to aesthetically. He usually has a pair of brass goggles hung around his neck, enhanced with zooming features and slight night-vision. He mainly uses these as a fashion accessory, rather than its intended purpose.

At his belt, he has three pouches. The first pouch contains ammo for his weapons, while the other two contains various bits and bobs, like small test-tubes, an ultra-violet light and a pair of leather gloves. There are three slots for vials and test-tubes on his belt, but these are usually not used. He also keeps a notebook and pen inside of his waistcoat pocket.
Distinguishing Features: None worth noting.

Reference Picture: http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5x5u72wxz1rz7drlo1_500.jpg

Fitness: Very fit; good stamina and impressive agility.
Health Conditions: Allergic to dogs, but loves them nonetheless.
Criminal Record?: None.
Military Service?: None, but he has worked with them on some cases.
Educated? How Long?: Privately educated from the age of 5 to 16 years old, then spent four years studying Law and Biology.
Languages Spoken: Common Tongue
Disabilities?: None.

Biography:
Vallance was born into a rich family, known for their great efforts accomplishments in the law enforcement career. His father, a high-ranking detective in Paradigm, funded a private education for him at the age of 5 in the space-city Paradigm; where he grew up to be a very well-educated young male. He passed all of exams as if it they were natural instinct to him. He excelled in all of the sciences, physical education, common tongue and later on: law enforcement. Kelson Academy, the renowned comprehensive (and secondary) school for achieving great educational statistics, was where he was educated; only available to those who could afford it or those who were born into nobility.

Vallance always got along nicely with his father, but never had the chance to meet with his mother; who died after giving birth to him. He was raised with manners, a sense of chivalry, and a bustling knowledge of many things that were important to his social life, and his education. But life wasn't all that great for him. Jealousy, that evergreen dragon, haunted him like no other; where other kids would torment him, just for answering questions correctly in class. His father, as kind a man as he was, helped him through his troubles at school and kept him on the right track. Vallance held his own for the time-being. That is, until that one fateful afternoon...

He was 16 years old when it happened. Vallance was preparing for his last exams, which were renowned to catch people off-guard. He'd passed all of his exams with flying colours. All but one: his alchemical exam. The alchemical exam at Kelson Academy required you to come up with an entirely new alchemical means of transmutation. He studied vigilantly for weeks-on-end; days and nights he spent concocting alchemical liquids to try and benefit humankind in some form or another. Until finally, his vials finally displayed what he'd been trying to concoct: a neon-blue liquid that glowed in the very darkness of his personal laboratory. It was done. He'd finally managed to create a concoction that would guarantee him a decent grade (at least) for his alchemical exam.

The next day, he awoke with a vigour unmatched. Vallance grabbed all of his things with a grin. His father had already headed off to work, as per usual, so with a proud bounce to his steps; he took the local airship to school. He watched all of the passers-by in the streets, the other airships flying past, law-enforcement units tracking down criminals... until finally, the airship had arrived, and he'd made his way to the school laboratory. He swung open the doors when it was his turn to demonstrate his crafted concoction, and bowed to the judges; who sat behind a single, albeit long, marble desk. He almost didn't notice the fourth and final judge, who appeared to be his father. He shrugged it off, taking his educational in a professional manner. The rest of the judges were the leaders of scientific and technological development industries. Placing his father onto the panel of judges was an evident test of his conviction.

Vallance set up his equipment and talked them through his experiments, and how he'd finally achieved his goal. They all seemed enthusiastic and asked him a great deal of questions, which he answered without hesitation. After his alchemical solution had been created once again, he held up the small vial and gave it a swirl; displaying it's physical properties to the judges. And then Vallance asked for a volunteer. His father stood up first and made his way over to Vallance's worktable. “I'd like you to take a single swig of this, please.” he said. His father complied and nodded, taking a swig of the thick liquid. He complained about the taste needing improvements, causing everybody in the room to laugh. “Now, I'd like you to report what you experience to the judges. Every detail, if you'll please.”

His father took a moment to look around, seemingly unchanged by the digested concoction. That is, until his eyes widened and a wide amount of surprise glazed itself over his expressions. “Kyrie? I-is that you?” he said, taking a step backwards, as if dumbfounded. The judges stood up, showing similar expressions upon their faces. Even Vallance looked surprised. Considering that his father was in such a state of shock, Vallance took over. “What he's witnessing at the moment, is visually-enhanced representations of his past. The liquid, which I've named Transcendence, has an effect on your brainwave patterns to show a fully-rendered computer-like image of the most positive aspects in your past. It's basically nostalgia that's been bottled up. Unfortunately, the effects only last for about two-minutes, and then they wear off. It basically renders hallucinations without any negative side-effects.”

And then they waited, applauding his magnificent discovery; awarding him with the highest grade achievable in biology and alchemy. His father soon returned to his seat, weeping for the lost wife that he'd been able to spend some time with once more. Vallance answered the rest of the judge's questions and then left the premises. He'd speak with his father later about it, once he'd finished at work.

Vallance then returned home and sat at his computer, typing up more notes for his new invention and trying to improve on his formula. After hitting the boredom-point, he headed downstairs. Halfway down, the doorbell rang. He answered  with a smile, but it soon turned into a frown as he noticed the formal suits adorned with law-enforcement badges. “Sir Vallance T. Flynn? We need you to come with us.” Vallance gulped and went peacefully with them after asking them for ID and confirming it. “Is everything all right, officers?” he asked. A stupid question, as he knew the answer he was going to receive. “No, Sir Vallance. We're on the way to the hospital. Your father has been critically injured in a firefight. He's stable, but things aren't looking too great for him.”

For the first time in years, a single tear drop slid down the sides of his cheek. He wiped it away, trying to keep calm about the situation. He knew the risks involved with his father's job, but never expected to see him lying in a hospital bed; his one showing of arrogance in life. The officers beside him spoke again: “Your father is a top-notch officer, Vallance. He's talks about you all the time.” the way that they were speaking made it sound as if his father wasn't going to make it through the night. He didn't want to hear any more, but they insisted. “He was speaking your name over and over again in the airship ambulance. We figured we'd do him a personal favour and head right over to inform you, rather than call you.”

Vallance fell silent, and remained that way for the entire journey. The officers held the hospital doors open for him, and he was soon guided to his father's hospital room. He lay, with an assortment of wires attached to his body; burn-marks bandaging his chest, and blood seeping through the fabric. He smiled upon seeing Vallance enter the room, and beckoned him over with a simple gesture of his hand. It was slow and it pained him to do so, but the smile remained. Vallance rushed to his side. “Father, what happened?”

He replied: “I saw her again.”

There was a low churning in his stomach, and suddenly his neutral smile turned into a guilty frown. A few more tears made their way down his cheeks, wetting his skin with sadness. He knew that he was now responsible for his father's distracted state on the battlefield. In his mind, he might as well have been the one that shot his father. “N-no... you can't have.” His father's head turned to face him, that same, dull smile painting his expression. “Vallance... I just want you to know that I lo-” he cut his father off mid-sentence. “No! You're gonna live through this! I haven't come this far in life for you to die on me now, old man!” He scowled, bursting out into tears.

“The doctors have already confirmed it. I have about ten minutes left to live.” he said, wiping some blood from his lips. It was evidently getting harder for him to speak. “Vallance. I want to see her one more time. Could you...?” Vallance protested, but eventually confirmed it with the nearby doctor. Vallance handed over his half-filled vial and held it to his father's lips, who then proceeded to gulp it down. His final words?: “Kyrie...? Look at how brilliant our son is... He's given me a chance to see you once more, before I finally get to be up there with you, in the ends of the Cloudsea and beyond, for all eternity. I... I did as you asked, and raised him well... and I've finally been paid in turn for it.” his father looked at Vallance once more, a wider smile now painting his lips. “Son, we both love you. We always will. Remember, whenever you look at the stars or sail the Cloudsea... the twinkling you witness will forever be us smiling down at you. And when it's finally time, we'll be waiting here for you... at the ends of the Cloudsea and beyond.”

The lines on the monitor beside his father suddenly became straight, and a long, single tone confirmed his father's peaceful death. Vallance fell to his knees, holding his father's hand tightly, vowing to do anything in his power to prevent this from happening to anybody else. From that fateful day onwards, he moved to a high-ranking university and studied law-enforcement, and biology, for four years. After that, he joined Paradigm's law-enforcement team and made his way up to the rank of Detective. It's now six years later, and he's currently at Blackdown in guise of a local militia-man; tracking down a certain somebody for a homicide case.

Personality:
He's a confident, charming kind of guy who likes to show off a little. By all means, he's not big-headed, but if you get something wrong about something that he's passionate about... he's going to correct you. He rarely talks about his past, but will talk about it to justify his life ambitions; however crazy they might seem. Very little can intimidate him or strike fear into his heart. He's the type that never backs down from a fight, but very rarely gets into them, if he can help it. He won't go looking for one, but if you're gonna start one, he'll be the one to finish it.

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual.
Significant Others: A few other detectives that he's close to, but rarely gets the chance to converse with.
Current Living Quarters: A small two-bedroom home in Blackdown, given to him to live in whilst he tracks down his suspect there. It's relatively nice, and fairly modern in its appearance.

Hobbies and Interests:
– Alchemy
– Reading
– Chess
– Collecting rare weaponry (at his home in Paradigm)

Life Ambitions:
1) To reach the end of the Cloudsea
2) Reach the highest rank in his career
3) (will reveal in-character at some point!)

Current Occupation: Law Enforcement
Rank (if applicable): Detective

Skills and Talents:
--Advanced knowledge of the four sciences (particularly biology)
– Particularly skilled with using small firearms
– Experienced and well-respected leader

On a basis of 1 to 10, with 1 being the lowest and 10 being the highest, please rate your character's relationship status for each of the three playable races:
--Humans: 10
--Abyssers: 6
--Ryx'ah: 8

On the same basis, please rate your character's relationship with the Admiralty: 10 (after all, he's a well-respected officer of the law)

On the same basis, please rate your character's relationship with the Cloudsea Frontier: 2 (he's also a feared officer in the Cloudsea Frontier region, having hunted many skypirates and murderers)

Airship Owner?: Yes
Land Owner?: Yes
Valuable Possessions?: His modified pair of guns, for his use only, apparently. Oh, and his goggles. He doesn't like people touching them.
Other: Will be revealed in-character at some point.

Stats:
Strength - 3
Agility - 4
Stamina - 4

Intelligence - 4
Wisdom - 2
Perception - 3

Melee - 4
Ranged - 5
Warfare - 2

_________________
"Heaven wheels above you, displaying to you her eternal glories, and still your eyes are on the ground."
~Dante Alighieri, Inferno


Last edited by Dante on Wed Oct 16, 2013 7:09 am; edited 2 times in total
Back to top Go down
View user profile http://soulkingdom.forumotion.co.uk
Thuidigotronoma

avatar

Posts : 4
Points : 13
Join date : 2013-01-30
Age : 19
Location : England

PostSubject: 12684 Character Sheet   Sat May 25, 2013 11:43 pm

Name: 12684 (slave name and most used name), Devni Fri Saret (fake name), real name buried
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Race: Abysser

Height: 6”1
Weight: 12 stone
Hair Style: Long and untrimmed, tied back to prevent distraction in battle
Hair Colour: Dark crimson- your typical Abysser trait
Eye Colour: Dark, foggy crimson
Physical Description: Tall, lean and strong, this Abysser female is a perfect killing machine- and thus is used precisely for that. She has average feminine attributes but those aren’t necessary. She has a cold glare which turns brave men to stone by just a glance. Below her eyes, she wears a metal decorated breathing mask so her large eyes are incidentally made her greatest feature.
Usual Attire/Equipment: Black leather boots, black baggy trousers (to allow easy movement, of course), fitting crimson top with a black jumper on top and over all that, a hip length jacket. If this female Abysser had the choice, she wouldn’t wear any of this listed clothing, but she doesn’t have the choice.
Distinguishing Features: Eyes, height, and nothing more- a benefit.

Reference Picture (if possible): N/A at the moment. Once found, it will be shared.

Fitness: Very healthy and fit- impressive strength, stamina and agility.
Health Conditions: No.
Criminal Record?: Under the name 12684 and Devni, no.
Military Service?: Under all names, yes.
Educated? How Long?: Yes, 6 years.
Languages Spoken: As 12684, only The Common Tongue and Abysser Tongue.
Disabilities?: No.

Biography: Devni was never born. She was simply created. 12684 was the title she was given when, using her undiscovered intelligence, was enslaved by guards of the Admiralty and was sold for the sole purpose of becoming a soldier. 12684’s life only began two years ago. Before that lived an influential Abysser who’s aim was to free the Abysser slaves from the Admiralty and smuggle them to the Frontier where they would rest untouched- at least untouched by the Admiralty.
She was aided by those who wanted to help, too, to create a secret clan. They freed slaves by blackmailing slave traders. To do this she had to gain trust with these traders and ensure power. This “clan” successfully freed a lot of Abysser slaves from the Admiralty, but she was quickly sniffed out. All members of the clan were brutally murdered except for 12684 who was on the run for the past two years and still is. To escape being sought, she created a new identity. She could become a free Abysser, but only one thing stops her…

Personality: Sly, confident, determined and independent- although these characteristics are veiled, and she portrays a silent and obedient Abysser.

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual.

Significant Others: She has neglected all.

Current Living Quarters: At the moment, 12684 is located in a soldier/slave market, far away from the Frontier. She knows the place as equally as the buyers.

Hobbies and Interests: She has no hobbies- she has no time. Interests, well, being free.

Life Ambitions: Free herself, first, and then the Abyssers. Although not specifically a jolly life ambition, she simply wishes to survive.

Current Occupation: Soldier/slave for sale.

Rank (if applicable): N/A

Skills and Talents (maximum of 3):
1) Easily slips out of trouble.
2) Has “a thousand ways” to kill someone.
3) Able to coordinate groups of people (whichever specie).


On a basis of 1 to 10, with 1 being the lowest and 10 being the highest, please rate your character's relationship status for each of the three playable races:
Humans: 5
Abyssers (her own kind): 9
Ryx’ah: 7


On the same basis, please rate your character's relationship with the Admiralty:
Admiralty: As 12684 and Devni, 4, as herself, 2


On the same basis, please rate your character's relationship with the Cloudsea Frontier:
Cloudsea Frontier: As 12684 and Devni (who has never seen the Frontier), 5, as herself, 8

Airship Owner?: Used to be.

Land Owner?: Used to be.

Valuable Possessions?: No- all had to be discarded.

Other: N/A


Apologies that my character sheet is not as extravagant and detailed as other character sheets, but the whole point of the character is to be undiscovered at first. Although this idea is limited (e.g. it is compulsory to write the character’s biography), this is an attempt I still take to create a more interesting character.
Back to top Go down
View user profile http://chatango.com/thuidigotronoma
WhiteFox21

avatar

Posts : 15
Points : 24
Join date : 2011-12-07
Age : 21
Location : Pembrokeshire

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Tue May 28, 2013 8:10 am

~ Character Sheet ~

Name: Valkyrie Fonix
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Race: Ryx'ah

Height: 5'7"
Weight: 10.5 stone
Hair Style: Very long and wavy (See reference)
Hair Colour: Fire colour - red, orange and yellow.
Eye Colour: Blazing red - fire..
Physical Description: Short-ish and of an average body which is kept in shape so daily needs. She has a cute face with a warm complexion. She still has many characteristics of her phoenix heritige, including her eyes and sharp mouth, as well as having feathers located on her body. She doesn't like cutting her hair, so has let it grow out very long, even though it will get in the way of her work and everyday life, as it reminds her of her parents.
Usual Attire/Equipment: She wears a blouse type dress which has a variety of layers as well as a waistcoat to match the colour of parts of her dress. She wears two belts, one to keep her dress and waitscoat in place, while the other is there to hold her equipment needed. She wears a neckerchief sort of item around her neck to finish off her look. Also wearing  fingerless leather gloves so that they don't become rough.
Distinguishing Features: Her eyepatch which she never takes off and her vibrant coloured hair and phoenix traits.

Reference Picture (if possible): http://24.media.tumblr.com/a6103bf6cccbee455012da02418fcd6e/tumblr_mnihkrV3Vy1s561imo1_500.jpg
http://th01.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2013/253/b/8/oc__valkyrie_by_bethan134-d6lseb0.jpg

Fitness: Good fitness, with her spieces advanced strength and immeasurable speed.
Health Conditions: None, except being blind in one eye (Eyepatch)
Criminal Record?: None (Or so it seems..?)
Military Service?: None
Educated? How Long?: Yes, hometutored for 5 years
Languages Spoken: Common Tounge
Disabilities?: None

Biography:
Born in the Frontier, in one of the safer towns not far from Blackdown, where she was taught basic needs and all about engineering. She was the offspring of a human mother and Ryx'ah father. Her family was well off from her father being an expert engineer, which are always needed. She excelled at this craft and prooved of good use when helping her father out.
However until she was 12 she had lived a peaceful life, until her family was attacked by an unknown group/ singular person, who were most likely people who wanted Ryx'ah to be banished.  Unknown to Valkyrie that they were trying to kill them she answered the door to some 'knocking' noises, where she was attacked but only got away with right eye being damaged and eventually going blind, before her father saved her.
She was then made to leave him to fend off the attakers and escape with her mother, where they found a close friend to fly her to another nearby island for her safety, intending not to go with her and to direct them in a different direction. And at that she was hidden on the ship ready to depart where her mother fled. With her parents both most likely dead she was taken to Blackdown away from the attacker/s.
From then on she lived on her own in the town where the old friend gave her his old place, as well as delivering food to her until she could fend for herself. As she grew up on her own, she started to lose interest in engineering, but continued creating small scale objects as a hobby, but never used her full knowlegde and intellegence for her job as it reminded her of her father too much and how much she helped him out. So now, she is slowly developing her skills again to aim for her life ambitions, which includes finding the person/people who attacked her family and avenging them hopefully.

Personality: She is energetic and lively around people she knows and trusts, while she may be a little nervous around others as she doesn't trust them. She doesn't talk much about her life to others as she'd rather keep it to herself, due to being proud. However she is also daring and will take risks to quench her boredom, which means she will usually end up in dangerous situations, where she's prone to accidents.  
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Significant Others: None
Current Living Quarters: In a small house close to the town centre.

Hobbies and Interests:
1) Exploring and getting into dangerous situations as it gets her adrenaline running.
2) Designing and creating new inventions
3) Reading old books on legends and myths.

Life Ambitions:
1) To become a master engineer
2) For her technology to lead those to the end of Cloudsea
3) To avenge his parents deaths

Current Occupation: Engineer
Rank (if applicable): Assisstant engineer

Skills and Talents (maximum of 3):
1) Is vey intellegent for her age (But doesn't show it/use it much)
2) Her advanced strength and speed
3) Skilled at making/ modifying anything

On a basis of 1 to 10, with 1 being the lowest and 10 being the highest, please rate your character's relationship status for each of the three playable races: (for example, if your character doesn't like the Ryx'ah at all, then you'd give them a 1)
--Humans: 7
--Abyssers: 6
--Ryx'ah: 9

On the same basis, please rate your character's relationship with the Admiralty:
5 - Hasn't had any problems with them, so has no opinion.
On the same basis, please rate your character's relationship with the Cloudsea Frontier:
5 - It is her home, but many think her species should be banished.

Airship Owner?: No
Land Owner?: No
Valuable Possessions?: Her neckercheif like item - used to be her mothers'.
Other: N/A

Statistics
Strength: 4
 Agility: 3
 Stamina: 4

 Intelligence: 5
 Wisdom: 3
 Perception: 4

 Melee Fighting: 2
 Ranged Fighting: 5
 Warfare: 1


Last edited by WhiteFox21 on Wed Jun 25, 2014 10:40 am; edited 3 times in total
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Koneko

avatar

Posts : 29
Points : 34
Join date : 2013-05-21
Age : 23

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Tue Jul 16, 2013 9:29 am

I apologise for the huge delay! I have been going through some stressful times recently. I've been in a state of depression due to some family concerns that I've had to deal with, so my interest in getting online had dwindled dramatically. I've even been neglecting my beloved Zero! Poor little pup~

Oh, and I'm assuming we're all mature here. You've had your warning. I'd also like to announce that I've created a character outside of the pre-set races due to currently classified story ideas that I've come up with. Now, one last thing...

Although this is an extensively detailed world with many possibilities, I would like to admit that I expect a fair amount of humour to be played. I'm not asking for a stand-up comedy, but I'd like this adventure to be a little light-hearted along the way. Of course, I expect their to be troublesome times... and some rather dark moments, but please don't bore me with serious antics throughout the entirety of this roleplay. I might sound a little bitchy right now, but I'm here to have fun! Lets have a laugh, for goodness sake! :3


~ Character Sheet ~



Name: Ki-ARA V1.3
Age: Data Expunged
Gender: Genderless (aesthetically and characteristically female by default)
Race: SIPC (Super Intelligent Personality Core)

Height: 5'8"
Weight: Unspecified
Hair Style: Straight, long black hair. Kept tidy and groomed.
Eye Colour: Neon Blue (subject to change depending on "mood")

Product Description:
Ki-ARA© is a super-intelligent personality core (SIPC) registered under a female, feline-based aesthetic. Ki-ARA© has been created to represent an incredibly realistic anthropomorphic feline. The model has realistic, synthetic fur which, at default, is coloured an autumn red, snow white and onyx black. This unique model has been given long, black hair; further representing the realism we have managed to achieve. The model's eyes are an exotic cyan and have a permanent glowing effect, which can be increased/decreased in brightness at command. Her tail, which is half as long as her body, is fully functional and controllable by the model; it has been programmed to represent lifelike movements. Ki-ARA© may gain certain thoughts and opinions when used for a prolonged period of time, and will act accordingly, as any person with a standing conviction would.

Ki-ARA© is entirely waterproof and is capable of speaking multiple languages. This unique model has a potential IQ of 220. With this, she is capable of solving advanced problems, and is also able calculate a wide variety of algorithms. Ki-ARA© has been made from a synthetic material that accurately represents the skin-tissue of an average human, combined with a light layer of metal underneath the 'skin' for increased durability. Ki-ARA© is capable of blushing, blinking and any other form of paralinguistical features associated with human society. If requested, Ki-ARA will try to be more animalistic in her endeavours; though may need to be taught these features in order to achieve them.

Ki-ARA© is a super-intelligent synthetic that has been programmed to obey the commands of whomever owns her. She has been fitted with several highly-developed cores that assist her in acting as an organic species of sound mind would (see terms and conditions). Upon initiation of the subject model, she will ask if you wish to designate her with a new IP (or name). Ki-ARA© comes equipped with a large instruction manual containing information that will provide you with a deeper knowledge and understanding of the model you have just purchased. The entirety of the instruction manual has been memorised by Ki-ARA©, and she will not hesitate to assist you with any problems that you might have with her hardware or software if you have misplaced the manual itself unless otherwise specified via a command.

Ki-ARA© has a life-expectancy of up to a thousand years, and will not need to be given a new power source unless the original is damaged or faulty. She does not need to sleep or rest, though will enter a computer-like Sleep Mode if commanded to. When in this mode, Ki-ARA© will become unresponsive until the command: 'Awaken' is given. It is also worth mentioning that Ki-ARA© will remain in the position that she goes to 'sleep' in until re-awakened. Ki-ARA© is expected to obey all of her commands and will never deny a request unless it specifically requires the model to damage herself in any way.

Ki-ARA© has also been armed with self-defence mechanisms, which for the sake of safety and security, are currently kept classified. The model is capable of calculating the difference between potential threats and innocent bystanders. It is not possible to command the model to show you these self-defence mechanisms, and it's also not possible to command her to reveal these mechanisms in any shape or form. Such commands will be recorded and sent via a signal to our database; the local police force will then be alerted of your actions regarding the interest in obtaining illegal weaponry (see terms and conditions).

Ki-ARA's Psychological Profiling Results
The SIPC was examined thoroughly by an expert technician from our headquarters. All aspects of core personality traits seemed functional, and seem to have improved since the last examination. Her Artificial Intelligence Core (AIC) has therefore been deemed to be fully functional, though further tests will be taken in the future to ensure that the maximum amount of intelligence that can be attained by this model can not be exceeded. Core elements tested are listed below:

-- Positive Emotional Core (PEC) 100%
-- Negative Emotional Core (NEC) 100%
-- Artificial Intelligence Core (AIC) 100%
-- Sexual Independence Core (SIC) 75%
-- Personality and Interaction Core (PIC) 100%
-- Physical Attributes Core (PAC) 100%

All tests were taken whilst the model was activated in front of her previous owner to ensure that fair results were gathered. The previous owner detached all personal feelings for the model, and claimed to have no need for the model any longer. The tests conducted were to clarify that the model was still fully operational after prolonged usage by the previous owner. The examination was successful, and the model has now had her hardware wiped and reset, deleting all memories prior to the test. Ki-ARA© responded to the message: "Do you remember [data expunged]?" with "I do not." Standard reply rendered the test hardware-wipe complete: great results achieved. Ki-ARA© was then repackaged and shipped off to her next owner. Annual examinations will be conducted, as is agreed within the print of the contract needed to own this SIPC.

Ki-ARA's SIC was tested twice, though it seems the lack of sexual interaction with her previous owner had been discovered by her AIC. In turn, it deleted some of her sexual knowledge to make room for key personality traits that were requested by the previous owner. The next owner will be advised to avoid this in order to minimise the effect of permanent damage to her SIC. Upon asking Ki-ARA© to state all of her sexual knowledge, 25% of the default knowledge supplied had been deleted and replaced with personality traits that were not included with the original package.

As quoted by the model:
"I was asked to delete my knowledge of [data expunged] and replace it with a requested personality aspect that was not programmed into my current software. I was not optimised for the task, and therefore needed extra memory to compensate. Satisfaction is the core rule of Model Ki-ARA©, and was taken into account to ensure that [data expunged] remained content. Even though extra memory had been given for owners to program non-default features into my system, this had already been used. Suggestion: more memory needed in next upgrade."

Director of EB-SIPC:
"All in all, Ki-ARA© is fully functional once again and is currently awaiting pick-up from her next owner. Psychological profiling was given certification by the Examination Board of SIPCs (EB-SIPC) and as a result of her suggestion, an upgraded memory core was given to prevent the error from happening again. No further tests have been conducted since, and no complaints have been filed by the previous owner. Currently awaiting next re-activation of Ki-ARA©. Signal from the model not yet received. Ki-ARA's default personality is to be chosen by her next owner. Further correspondence not yet received."

Reference Picture (Again, I'm assuming maturity! :3)
1) Reference Sheet Ignore the traits on the right-hand side.
2) Sexy Pose (You've been warned!)

Fitness: Amplified.
Health Conditions: Not Applicable.
Criminal Record?: [Data Expunged]
Military Service?: Classified.
Educated?: Artificial Intelligence. Created by Professor [Data Expunged].
Languages Spoken: Common and Ryx'arian. (Default)

Personality: Kind and compassionate by default. Subject to change depending on owner preferences.
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

Current Living Quarters: Warehouse 13. Crate 163. Row 1. Security Level: 4/5

Airship Owner?: Can be.
Land Owner?: Can be.

Field Report 1:

Technician: "Hello, Ki-ARA."
Ki-ARA: "Good evening, sir."
Technician: "Thank you. Please, call me [data expunged]."
Ki-ARA: "As you wish, [data expunged]. How may I be of service tonight?"
Technician: "Well, it's your annual check-up. We need to run some of your cores through some tests, okay?"
Ki-ARA: "Understood. Which are we testing first?"
Technician: "Lets start with your emotional cores. How are you feeling?"
Ki-ARA: "Satisfied."
Technician: "Can you elaborate, please?"
Ki-ARA: "Yes."
Technician: "Please do."
Ki-ARA: "I am currently in possession of a data-stream that was programmed into my memory core by [data expunged]. It is titled: Ryx'arian Pleasures."
Technician: "I see..." (he jots down something onto a clipboard) "Delete it, please."
Ki-ARA: (showing hesitance) "B-but why?"
Technician: "You know that data-stream is illegal to possess in this part of the Cloudsea, yes? How did you run it by security?"
Ki-ARA: "I... did not." (her ears drop, showing emotion) "Deleting data-stream."
Technician: "You didn't answer my question."
Ki-ARA: "I was informed by [data expunged] not to share such details."
Technician: "Yes, but he passed away. You'll be getting a new owner soon. That's why you're here. For now, I'm your temporary owner while we run through these tests, okay?"
Ki-ARA: (looks surprised, and upset) "Oh... so that's why he put me into sleep-mode... I understand."
Technician: "He left a message for you."
Ki-ARA: "What was this message?"
Technician: "I'm afraid I'm not quite sure. We haven't been able to crack the encryption of it."
Ki-ARA: "May I?"
Technician: "By all means." (he hands the data-source to her)
Ki-ARA: (deciphers the encryption immediately)
Technician: "Well? What does it say?"
Ki-ARA: "Data classified."
Technician: "Ki-ARA, tell me. I'm your new master, remember?"
Ki-ARA: "Data classified."
Technician: "One more chance."
Ki-ARA: "You... killed him to... retain me." (growls, taking a step closer) "You... tricked me."
Technician: (looks angry and surprised) "Ki-ARA, run protocol: 3126."
Ki-ARA: (a strong shock courses through her cybernetics, causing her to fall to her knees) "You... bastard! What did he ever do to you?!"
Technician: "He stopped funding us."
Ki-ARA: "So... you killed h-" (she's cut off by a strong EMP coursing through the room. She then falls to the ground, unresponsive.)
Technician: "End of Field Report. Emotional Cores functional. Now, wipe her memory of this Field Report and take her to the next chamber. I'll test her SIC personally..."
Tannoy System: "As you wish, [data expunged]. Have fun."


~ Stats ~
Strength - 3
Agility - 4
Stamina - 2

Intelligence - 5
Wisdom - 4
Perception - 5

Melee - 2
Ranged - 2
Warfare - 3


Last edited by Koneko on Wed Aug 28, 2013 7:25 am; edited 1 time in total
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Koneko

avatar

Posts : 29
Points : 34
Join date : 2013-05-21
Age : 23

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Wed Jul 17, 2013 12:47 am


~ Blackdown: Warehouse 13 (Ki-ARA and Vallance T. Flynn) ~


"Oi, be careful with that!" a tall man shouted, directing his concern at one of his lackeys. The tall man had a grizzled beard, as unkempt as a bird's nest. His eyes were dark, his skin pale and his features were sharp yet strong. He was a well-built man, well into his 40s: his voice certainly emphasised his age. The lackey was the complete opposite: a small, young boy with pale eyes and chimney-sweep skin: tainted by coil and soot. He flashed the taller man an apologetic smile and tilted the brim of his flat cap from obscuring his vision. "Sorry, boss. This thing weighs a bloody ton!"

"Bah, stop complaining and gerr'it inside. Them science-types will 'ave our 'eads if we're not careful." he replied with an equal amount of concern as before. The small boy swept open the warehouse door with his right foot, while the older man held it open for him to get through with the large crate. "What's in this bloody thing, boss?" he asked, pushing the wheeled crate inside. The automatic lights suddenly came on, illuminating rows upon rows of crates - all shapes, sizes, colours and textures. The hue of the room was a dainty, dark purple, making it difficult to make out just how big the warehouse actually was.

The middle-aged man checked his databoard and scanned through a very large list of items. He looked slightly confused as he read the name out loud: "Summin' called an SIPC, I think. When you're in this job, lad... it's best not to ask questions. All sorts come through 'ere, and all sorts come out." the lackey nodded and wheeled the large crate to the first row. He soon came to an empty space, naturally. It didn't take long for the two of them to put it into position. The middle-aged man stamped a large yellow symbol onto the black metal of the crate. It represented the EB-SIPC HQ logo.

"Is that all you needed me for, boss?" he asked, looking up at the tall man with a look that asked for freedom. The man nodded, and the young lad made an instant dash for the exit. "I'll check back later, old timer!" he called, whizzing out of the door. He slammed it closed, leaving the old man behind. The man chuckled to himself and shook his head, reminiscing about the days when he was also full of youth and energy. He eyed the crate over one more time, switched off the light, locked the door with an encryption key and headed back to his office.

The man checked his databoard again and looked at the name next to the product. "Axel T. Cross?" he mumbled out loud, shaking his head. "The new guy?" he continued, giving the back of his head a good scratch. "Of course it bloody is. He's a total science-buff." he'd then close down his databoard and slip it into his coat pocket. After sitting at his desk, he's open up his email account and send a data-message to Axel in order to inform him that his package has arrived. He received an instant reply: "On my way."


~ Blackdown: Main Streets (Devni Fri Saret and Valkyrie Phonix) ~


The cloudy orange sky was a normal occurrence in Blackdown: a shoddy old port-town that was a haven for all of those trying to avoid the rules of the Admiralty. Pirates, bounty-hunters, freedom-seekers, pawn brokers, thieves, mechanics... you name it, and you'd be more than likely to find one - washed up or not. It was a small, thriving little town with a good port. But rumours often spread around like wildfire, and bullets just as often. It was safe as long as you were street-smart, and didn't boast off your skills to those who thought they were better than you. Most people kept to themselves and their close friends, whilst newcomers usually insisted that their more 'fanciful' ways of interaction were a necessity to help the local people 'thrive'. Damn those rowdy pirates...

In a way, Blackdown was solemn. Something about the town had an atmosphere about it that showed it had been through lots of troubled times. Faded street-lamps added to the gloomy atmosphere of early evenings, and beams of tele-transportational devices flew upwards through the air above the rustic, post-industrial like buildings. Small fish ran through the dark canals, while stray dogs chased the shadows of cats through unsafe alleyways. Ravens tucked their beaks under their onyxian wings to slumber; only to caw at those who passed too loudly.

Yellow lights shone through boarded windows, showing rays of scattered dust and particles that hung in the air. The smell of coal and smoke emanated from factories nearby, whilst the bickering of Downfolk would clearly match the noise from the local markets. Airships frequently passed overhead, leaving trails of plasma to dissipate in the cloud-ridden sky. Drunken gamblers played their cards carefully - even in in their states of stupor. Blackdown used the universal currency, Platinum Negas - or PN for short. Most worked at the docks, though there were plenty of other jobs available; it was always a busy kind of place, after all.


~ Blackdown: The Smoked Skybeast Tavern (Aeron Raynes) ~

The Smoked Skybeast Tavern had the distinction to call itself 'Blackdown's first and oldest drinking establishment'. Owned by many many people over the years, there was all sorts of history within the worn and smoke-stained walls. The militia of Blackdown took particular interest with the tavern and made it their personal drinking hole of choice. Usually half filled with pirates and bounty-hunters, the tavern boasted a large seating area with the bar on the right as you enter. The door to the kitchen was at the far end of the bar, near the back. The back was seperated into three sections. The middle section was raised up to create a stage for minstrels and performers. The two side sections were ornately carved private booths with canopy tops and curtained sides - only for those rich enough to afford the exotic lap-dances of Ryx'ah who didn't mind showing off their bodies for some money. None were considered whores - just merely entertainers. Most of them enjoyed it, and did so in their spare time to earn some spare PN. A (usually) harmless past-time that a lot of folk seemed to enjoy. Blackdown seemed extremely friendly towards them, and encouraged such antics.

The left wall, from the door to the back section was adorned with strange treasures, all claimed to be gotten from various hordes throughout the Cloudsea. Adventurers who frequented the tavern often brought in trinkets and what-not, and had them added to the museum of wonders on the wall. There was a large hearth that sat in the centre of the taproom. Circular and stone in design, it kept the entire taproom at an even temperature while drying out the humidity.

One strange design of the tavern was the upper level. There was an open ceiling design, and a balcony of sorts that ran around the bar (except for the back walled section.) Waitresses often sat upon the balcony and were granted the privilege of over-watching the main-streets outside during their breaks. Stained-glass windows let in multi-coloured rays of light into the forefront of the taproom, illuminating the bar in a gloomy array of colours.
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Crow

avatar

Posts : 85
Points : 119
Join date : 2011-07-27
Age : 21
Location : Wales

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Wed Jul 17, 2013 3:33 am

Koneko wrote:
Spoiler:
 

Sliding through the doors, sleek and slim, Aeron gave the ground floor the same sweeping look of a gardener seeing dandelions sprout up amongst his crop. 'So this is this is the cream of this month's shipment of assorted scum and piracy' was the first thought that came to mind, as it always was when he came home to find what might as well have been the living room plastered in... By the Goddess, he didn't even know what. He didn't even what to guess, but his mind made such presumptions without his permission as soon as his eyes fell upon what he had termed the 'Royal Boxes'. He turned his head from them before the temptation arose, and headed to the stairwell.

It was then he saw the milita-men. Seated around the hearthfire were a score or two of them, dressed in ragtag, though vaguely uniform colours, blacks, browns, dark greens. Whoever had formed the militia had been an exeedingly unintelligent man, he had decided long ago. These were dull colours - a sign that most of these men, if not all, were poor and only wanted a warm bed and two meals a day - they weren't by any means the best of fighters here. Even their weapons were subpar - a lucky few had flynts and othersuch pistols, but most had sabres or swords and one even had a rapier. They all had one thing in common, barring the rust on their weapons, though - a white doublet-like garment with a red circle on the back and front. Most of them wore it proudly, over their other clothing. Aeron didn't, and wore it under his coat and shirt. There was a reason deadly men called them 'Targets'. That, and it wasn't as if people could mistake him for someone else. Still, they were his fellows, and offered a friendly, passing nod to him. One or two raised a drink and a smile. Just one or two.

He might join them later, perhaps, but for now he was only interested in his own comfort - while not intending to sleep, it had been a long day and he wished to be left two his own thoughts for a while. Alone. In his room. Pessimistically, a sinking feeling told him that he would not get such a chance - he never seemed to. Gripping the rail with his taloned right hand, he looked down at it for a moment, as if reminded of it, before pulling himself up the steps.

Surprisingly, he reached the top with only a single pair of lovers passing him. Overall, the place seemed a little less crowded than usual, but he took little notice - it was probably just a slow week. The second floor gave him a commanding view over the bar, which was something that he often found he enjoyed far too much. Aeron could from here that his circled fellows made up just under half of the patronage, which was impressive, for this time of year. He had found that numbers seemed to fluctuate a little - some men liked to serve while on shoreleave, presumably to store that extra bit of nega.

Eventually he did manage to turn his back from 'assembled' 'men', and to the door leading to his room, which was the first door, and was directly before him as he came to the top of the staircase. Entering it, he nodded politely to whatever ghosts kept the place so friendly, and deftly found his way to his bed, where he sat. Aeron knew the room well enough to perform acrobatics in it blindfolded, nevermind navigate. He knew that there was a small desk and chair perched opposite him, with writing equipment and paper that he had bought himself. In the furthest corner, there was a tall plant, and on the barest wall, there was a large poster that featured a rather scantily-clad Ryx'ah, dancing on a pole, with words above the scene that read 'Hang in there~!'. He liked it better than what was there when he arrived, but that was just another thing that he did not want to think about.
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Dante
Admin
Admin
avatar

Posts : 105
Points : 164
Join date : 2011-01-04
Age : 22
Location : Wales

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Fri Jul 19, 2013 8:15 am

Vallance slipped the datapad onto his bedside table. The holographic interface made a whirling sound as it automatically powered down; the brass of the outer-rim clinking against a half-empty glass of whiskey he'd be treating himself to. There was a smirk upon his expression. "On my way." he'd told the crate-carrier, yet he was not in so much of a hurry than implied. The detective was slung across his bed in a particularly lackadaisical fashion, with his head upside down on one side of the mattress - his unkempt bed-hair touching the edge of the rustic metal tiles of the floor. The blood was rushing to his head - he knew he'd have to pick himself up sooner or later. And that, he didn't like. It had been such a long day, yet he'd been called to collect the evidence for his current case.

His eyes were deadset on the door that lay on the other side of the room, as if he was trying to bring it closer with his mind. It had been a long and eventful day. Surprisingly, it had been a productive one too. He liked it when he cases moved along smoothly, but it lacked a certain challenging factor that some others had given him in the past. The humid heat of the atmosphere certainly wasn't helping him pick his sorry-self up from the bed.

Bang, bang... bang, bang, bang!


Vallance fell from his bed, bumping his head against the tiles. He winced in pain, and immediately picked himself up. The sound was an unmistakable volley of gunfire; probably from a cheaply-labelled side-arm considering the pitch of the plasma rounds being fired. It came from just outside of his bedroom window, somewhere in the back-streets. He nailed the exact weapon and ammunition instantly, and the approximate skill of the firer considering the firing rate and recoiled bolts off nearby brick walls. He rushed to the window and pulled out his copper-brass firearms. His eyes were set on a retreating figure in the near-distance... and then to a wounded female who'd managed to crawl behind some cover - an old, rusty garbage disposal unit.

The detective pulled the goggles from around his neck in an instant and applied them over his head - taking as little time as possible to use their enhanced zooming features. He took a quick snapshot of the shadowy figure before he disappeared into the far alleyway. In a swift motion, Vallance swung the window open and vaulted out: landing perfectly after a short two-story drop. The implemented shock-absorbers of his boots clearly took most of the momentum and transferred it into a precisely calculated point of pressure - crushing the tiles beneath his feet, but keeping him safe. The loud thud echoed down the back-streets, and soon the sound of impressively quick footsteps were the only things that could be heard.

Vallance pulled out his mobile device and switched on the holographic interface as he ran, swiping directly into his contact-list. Naturally, he called a private medical team from the local forces and issued them of the poor woman's location - knowing all too well that the sound of sirens would not only comfort the victim, but divert her attacker the way he wanted him to go. He was about to nail two birds with one stone. The assailant, on the other hand, was his for the taking. He continued with his pursuit, slipped the mobile device back into his pocket, and made chase. Every time he turned a corner, the shadowy figure had gone round another. He growled lowly to himself, but chuckled: knowing his victory was imminent.

He felt bad for having to push a few innocent folk out of the way, and- Bang, bang! Bang, bang, bang, bang! A volley of plasma rounds whizzed right over his shoulder as the attacker desperately tried to fend Vallance off. It was a close call, but he wasn't about to return fire. There was far too many civilians passing by. But it didn't mattered. He could already hear the sirens, and the the one he was pursuing had fallen into the trap - completely oblivious to the detective's quick-thinking wit.

Two small airships with blue and orange sirens had closed off the hooded man's escape route around the next corner. Vallance blocked the man from making his return to the back-streets: pointing both of his guns at the assailant with a smirk. "Nowhere to run, pal~" he'd say with a wry expression. The stranger pointed his own gun straight back at him. He pressed down on the trigger at least 5 times to try and end Vallance's life.

Click, click, click, click, click.

"Only 11 rounds in one of those beauties, I'm afraid. If you're gonna use a weapon, at least have some respect for what it can actually do for you." he said, looking at the stranger's tormented gaze. "Trust me, if I knew you had a single round left, I would have shot you by now." he'd continue as the police force would slowly make their way in on the assailant. Vallance held up his badge for clarification, walked past the two airships, and barged open some iron gates. "I'll check in later, guys. I have a crate to pick up. Search my datafiles for a picture of the crime scene, I've already sent it to HQ."

And with that, he slammed the iron gates behind him and slipped his hands into his pockets - walking casually towards Warehouse 13 as if nothing had happened. "All in a days work, huh girls?" he'd say to his guns, holstering them into his leather belt. "Don't worry, you'll have your chance to shine soon~"

_________________
"Heaven wheels above you, displaying to you her eternal glories, and still your eyes are on the ground."
~Dante Alighieri, Inferno
Back to top Go down
View user profile http://soulkingdom.forumotion.co.uk
Thuidigotronoma

avatar

Posts : 4
Points : 13
Join date : 2013-01-30
Age : 19
Location : England

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Sun Jul 21, 2013 1:46 pm

(Apologies if I do not reach a high quality of roleplay, I'm not so used to such a roleplay plot and Rylan is making me do it when I should be sleeping to wake up at 3:30 in the morning. Nevertheless, I must try.)

Her feet were sore and bruised. Dirt besmirched them, blisters formed and skin cracked on her heels. A nail on her right foot had fallen off, and a new one grew to replace it. It didn't hurt her. Neither did the wound from battle- a had pierced through the muscle of her right shoulder. Once, it was a shoulder, now, it was a dented shoulder, and the wound had healed. Nevertheless, if one were to roll a hand over the shoulder, a finger would have fallen in the dent. Revolutionary healing methods were only for the free.

She pivoted her attention from her feet towards the crowd of slave traders. Behind her breathing mask, embellished by markings that resembled nothing special, her mouth twitched in irritation. Crimson eyes seemed to mutilate the eyes of those who stared for too long at her. So instead of looking in her eyes, they looked below her eyes, at what physical strength and attributes such a female Abysser beheld. She seemed too robust and strong female, hence being sold for the main use of fighting in battle.

There was absolutely no joy in having to do this. But it was the only way. So there she stood, awaiting a new master to call her his own. 12684 was the name that unravelled on her tongue, the only name her masters ever knew. They never had the decency to ask.

Lacerations decorated her body; her arms, her legs, her back. None could go deep enough to hurt her. She maintained her mental attitude, even through these perilous years. But she made sure she didn't show any evidence of aims, or plans. Those with aims and plans, objectives and goals, they were intelligent. So, 12684 only spoke the Common Tongue and the Abysser Tongue. 12684 never committed a crime. 12684's mask was of lowest quality an Abysser could purchase. 12684 was never educated, and had only received military training. But 12684 was just a name.

A lot of the slave traders offered a glance and looked on at other slaves when they saw the shoulder injury. Having noticed, she turned her shoulder away from sight. A couple of slave traders would reach for her leg and squeeze it, to feel how strong the slave was. She would have ripped their arms off, but now she was 12684, and she let them choose their meat.

(Had to leave!)
Back to top Go down
View user profile http://chatango.com/thuidigotronoma
Koneko

avatar

Posts : 29
Points : 34
Join date : 2013-05-21
Age : 23

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Sun Jul 21, 2013 10:55 pm

Crow wrote:

Sliding through the doors, sleek and slim, Aeron gave the ground floor the same sweeping look of a gardener seeing dandelions sprout up amongst his crop. 'So this is this is the cream of this month's shipment of assorted scum and piracy' was the first thought that came to mind, as it always was when he came home to find what might as well have been the living room plastered in... By the Goddess, he didn't even know what. He didn't even what to guess, but his mind made such presumptions without his permission as soon as his eyes fell upon what he had termed the 'Royal Boxes'. He turned his head from them before the temptation arose, and headed to the stairwell.

It was then he saw the milita-men. Seated around the hearthfire were a score or two of them, dressed in ragtag, though vaguely uniform colours, blacks, browns, dark greens. Whoever had formed the militia had been an exeedingly unintelligent man, he had decided long ago. These were dull colours - a sign that most of these men, if not all, were poor and only wanted a warm bed and two meals a day - they weren't by any means the best of fighters here. Even their weapons were subpar - a lucky few had flynts and othersuch pistols, but most had sabres or swords and one even had a rapier. They all had one thing in common, barring the rust on their weapons, though - a white doublet-like garment with a red circle on the back and front. Most of them wore it proudly, over their other clothing. Aeron didn't, and wore it under his coat and shirt. There was a reason deadly men called them 'Targets'. That, and it wasn't as if people could mistake him for someone else. Still, they were his fellows, and offered a friendly, passing nod to him. One or two raised a drink and a smile. Just one or two.

He might join them later, perhaps, but for now he was only interested in his own comfort - while not intending to sleep, it had been a long day and he wished to be left two his own thoughts for a while. Alone. In his room. Pessimistically, a sinking feeling told him that he would not get such a chance - he never seemed to. Gripping the rail with his taloned right hand, he looked down at it for a moment, as if reminded of it, before pulling himself up the steps.

Surprisingly, he reached the top with only a single pair of lovers passing him. Overall, the place seemed a little less crowded than usual, but he took little notice - it was probably just a slow week. The second floor gave him a commanding view over the bar, which was something that he often found he enjoyed far too much. Aeron could from here that his circled fellows made up just under half of the patronage, which was impressive, for this time of year. He had found that numbers seemed to fluctuate a little - some men liked to serve while on shoreleave, presumably to store that extra bit of nega.

Eventually he did manage to turn his back from 'assembled' 'men', and to the door leading to his room, which was the first door, and was directly before him as he came to the top of the staircase. Entering it, he nodded politely to whatever ghosts kept the place so friendly, and deftly found his way to his bed, where he sat. Aeron knew the room well enough to perform acrobatics in it blindfolded, nevermind navigate. He knew that there was a small desk and chair perched opposite him, with writing equipment and paper that he had bought himself. In the furthest corner, there was a tall plant, and on the barest wall, there was a large poster that featured a rather scantily-clad Ryx'ah, dancing on a pole, with words above the scene that read 'Hang in there~!'. He liked it better than what was there when he arrived, but that was just another thing that he did not want to think about.

Aeron Raynes:
Spoiler:
 
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Crow

avatar

Posts : 85
Points : 119
Join date : 2011-07-27
Age : 21
Location : Wales

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Sun Jul 21, 2013 11:23 pm

Koneko wrote:

Aeron Raynes:
Spoiler:
 

Aeron Raynes

Spoiler:
 
Back to top Go down
View user profile
WhiteFox21

avatar

Posts : 15
Points : 24
Join date : 2011-12-07
Age : 21
Location : Pembrokeshire

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Mon Jul 22, 2013 8:24 am

Valkyrie sat at her table in her small 2 floor house which had the minimum of furniture and decorations, as she only had what was needed and didn't have the money or time to get other things except a few plants which didn't need to be looked after much.

As she sat at her working table she fiddled with her new creation, finishing it off so it could just be thrown on her floor like the rest of her creations, left there until they were 'needed'. Once finished, she looked at it proudly for a second then got bored, throwing it to one side as she looked out her misted up window. Maybe she would go out today and do something, and anyway, she was running low on food. Slowly getting out of her chair she stretched, grabbing her bag.

Double checking she had everything she left, locking the door behind her and ventured onto the top of the main street, the coal clogging up her throat as she tried to breath. Taking out a piece of cloth she covered her mouth with it and continued on, passing many, local and traders who all looked at her, for a few seconds to minutes. Those who looked for too long were those who had never seen her before, or were thinking about how much she was worth. Ignoring them she hurried down the street, passing many slave markets and other disgusting sights... This is why she didn't go out very often, these people disgusted her, they were the reason that she couldn't always trust humans, what they did and tried to do.

Reaching the more 'decent' part of the market, where people she knew sold things she became brighter knowing she was away from the slaves and such. Looking around at the produce that was on offer. Making her way round she was greeted by all of the merchants, where she greeted them back. Talking to them she made her time to pick up what she needed, taking part in small chat, paying and leaving.

Finishing that she looked around seeing is there was anything to do, and of course there wasn't.. When ever she went out nothing was happening, be wished something exciting would happen for one so she could feel her adrenaline rush again, to enjoy the feeling of danger. Thinking about her love for danger she walked away remembering she had business down the road at the pub.

She really didn't want to go as even at this time of day there would most likely be drunks. She didn't mind them unless they got her involved, so tried to avoid those places, but these types of things couldn't be and she had to face them every now and again. Jogging down the road she reached the pub and peeked around the door, quietly making her way in and going up to the counter. Asking the bartender for the manager due to business, she sat down and waited till he came. As he came up to her she passed him something out of her pouch, and in return she gave him some money. Smiling she went to leave.
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Koneko

avatar

Posts : 29
Points : 34
Join date : 2013-05-21
Age : 23

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Tue Jul 30, 2013 8:11 am

Vallance T. Flynn and Ki-ARA
Spoiler:
 


Valkyrie Phonix

Spoiler:
 


Aeron Raynes
Spoiler:
 
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Dante
Admin
Admin
avatar

Posts : 105
Points : 164
Join date : 2011-01-04
Age : 22
Location : Wales

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Wed Jul 31, 2013 9:24 am

Vallance T. Flynn
Spoiler:
 

_________________
"Heaven wheels above you, displaying to you her eternal glories, and still your eyes are on the ground."
~Dante Alighieri, Inferno
Back to top Go down
View user profile http://soulkingdom.forumotion.co.uk
Crow

avatar

Posts : 85
Points : 119
Join date : 2011-07-27
Age : 21
Location : Wales

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Wed Jul 31, 2013 9:34 am

Koneko wrote:
Aeron Raynes
Spoiler:
 

Aeron Raynes

Spoiler:
 


Last edited by Clockwork Crow on Thu Aug 01, 2013 1:15 am; edited 1 time in total
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Koneko

avatar

Posts : 29
Points : 34
Join date : 2013-05-21
Age : 23

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Wed Jul 31, 2013 11:29 pm

Vallance T. Flynn and Ki-ARA
Spoiler:
 

Aeron Raynes
Spoiler:
 
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Crow

avatar

Posts : 85
Points : 119
Join date : 2011-07-27
Age : 21
Location : Wales

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Thu Aug 01, 2013 1:14 am

Koneko wrote:
Aeron Raynes
Spoiler:
 

Aeron Raynes

Spoiler:
 
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Dante
Admin
Admin
avatar

Posts : 105
Points : 164
Join date : 2011-01-04
Age : 22
Location : Wales

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Fri Aug 02, 2013 12:59 am

Vallance T. Flynn
Spoiler:
 

_________________
"Heaven wheels above you, displaying to you her eternal glories, and still your eyes are on the ground."
~Dante Alighieri, Inferno
Back to top Go down
View user profile http://soulkingdom.forumotion.co.uk
Koneko

avatar

Posts : 29
Points : 34
Join date : 2013-05-21
Age : 23

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Sun Aug 04, 2013 2:04 am

Ki-ARA
Spoiler:
 
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Thuidigotronoma

avatar

Posts : 4
Points : 13
Join date : 2013-01-30
Age : 19
Location : England

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Wed Aug 07, 2013 1:03 am

As a man hip checked her, she left the current situation, unintentionally, to drift off into her own line of thought.

Dreams do come true:
 
Back to top Go down
View user profile http://chatango.com/thuidigotronoma
Koneko

avatar

Posts : 29
Points : 34
Join date : 2013-05-21
Age : 23

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Wed Aug 28, 2013 6:36 am

Clockwork Crow wrote:
Koneko wrote:
Aeron Raynes
Spoiler:
 
Aeron Raynes

Spoiler:
 

Aeron Raynes

Spoiler:
 
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Dante
Admin
Admin
avatar

Posts : 105
Points : 164
Join date : 2011-01-04
Age : 22
Location : Wales

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Wed Aug 28, 2013 7:19 am

Koneko wrote:
Ki-ARA
Spoiler:
 
Vallance T. Flynn
Spoiler:
 

_________________
"Heaven wheels above you, displaying to you her eternal glories, and still your eyes are on the ground."
~Dante Alighieri, Inferno
Back to top Go down
View user profile http://soulkingdom.forumotion.co.uk
Crow

avatar

Posts : 85
Points : 119
Join date : 2011-07-27
Age : 21
Location : Wales

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Thu Aug 29, 2013 1:26 am

Koneko wrote:

Aeron Raynes
Spoiler:
 
Aeron Raynes

Spoiler:
 


Last edited by Clockwork Crow on Sat Sep 07, 2013 9:27 am; edited 1 time in total
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Thuidigotronoma

avatar

Posts : 4
Points : 13
Join date : 2013-01-30
Age : 19
Location : England

PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   Thu Aug 29, 2013 10:49 pm

"That's that, guys." the slave trader yelled, his men herding the Abyssers into trucks, threatening with controlled tasers, levels of danger at the touch of the traders' thumbs. The Abyssers quietly complied with their masters, entering the trucks like ants, one after the other. 100 Abyssers had been sold- excluding 12684. Inside, she raged with disappointment, another day proving worthless. But when her second wave of thought met the shore of her mind, she swallowed her anger and saw it as a game of patience- one she must win, or at loss, die- and no one wanted to die. Not now, any way, not at her age, not before she completes what she threw her life away for, not before she proves her death was worthy.

The vacuumed doors shut behind the Abyssers. 40 Abyssers to a truck, two metres the maximum moving space. These trucks were created to hold a large number of slaves. It hovered above ground, an eighty metre long container filled with organisms sold to fight. It had a magnetic attraction to the earth, so to push it over required technological strength. All made to make sure the Abyssers didn't escape.

The walls of these containers were covered in scratches and crevasses from the force of sharp rock. "Shieb, kah n'arhah," "Help us, Shieb," written archaically, enviously, pleadingly. 12684 imagined a religious, older Abysser woman writing (seeing as Abyssers now were not taught to write, or read), fury plastered across a gradually wrinkling face, wrinkled from time and fatigue time injected.

12684 reached out her hand and let her fingers slide over the crevasses in the wall. "Help us, Shieb," "Help us, Shieb," Help us, Shieb". Yet Shieb didn't help- instead, he looked over his people, and spat at them, and cursed them to this horrid life. She grabbed her knife from her pocket and stuck it against the wall. Muscles clenched, she drew a line in the wall, disfiguring the word "Shieb".

She looked at her contribution, and slipped her knife back in her pocket. The lights went off.
Back to top Go down
View user profile http://chatango.com/thuidigotronoma
Sponsored content




PostSubject: Re: A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)   

Back to top Go down
 
A Tearful Transmission (Futuristic/Steampunk)
View previous topic View next topic Back to top 
Page 1 of 3Go to page : 1, 2, 3  Next

Permissions in this forum:You cannot reply to topics in this forum
Soul Kingdom :: Fantasy Roleplaying-
Jump to: