Unclassifiable Dreaming in the Dark

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Sinrebirth, Sep 30, 2012.

Moderators: Penguinator, Ramza
  1. Sinrebirth Immortal Mod-King of the EUC and SWC

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Nov 15, 2004
    star 8
    Dreaming in the Dark

    You have been chosen! Chosen to represent our noble star system on Lord Xim’s great venture. You all know the ancient stories, of a world of metal, in the depths of the Core, with a rich population and a bejewelled heart of the galaxy before, and the galaxy to come, as given to us by the Heralds. You have been selected to join our quest for that legendary world. Our greatest minds have divined the coordinates of this world from the Tomes of Alsakan, and by communing with the Ones.

    Attached to this piece of data-flimsi is a set of times, coordinates, and names. The Great Lottery has been advertised for years, as the selection process for those who will join a massive, incredible sleeper ship known as the Future Incandescence, a kilometres long vessel designed to travel beyond the Hyperspace Network created by the Kingdom of Xim, and discover and colonise the Jewel of the Galaxy.

    [IMG]

    Apart from the loyal crew, which will be awakened at alternate times during the launch, all of the passengers will be placed in carbonite stasis for the long decades that it will take for the vessel to proceed at sublight speed, with hyperspace jumps as and when the probes establish a safe route. With new technology that allows for individuals to traverse these great distances and not suffer carbonite sickness, the ship represents the height of Xim’s desires, a testament to his opinion that his Empire is immortal, and will connect with the Core soon enough.

    Everyone in the Lottery is aged between fifteen and fifty, and entry into the Lottery is non-negotiable. Several elites have been selected to lead the expedition to the Core, and in the totalitarian regime of Xim, any request to be exempted from the Lottery has resulted in a very public execution. A few places were offered as prizes on various shows, or as punishments for those the regime wants to ‘disappear’ but cannot politically touch for fear of further unrest.

    And your name is on that piece of flimsi.

    Welcome to Dreams...

    ... Try not to bring any Nightmares with you...

    ---

    WELCOME TO THE FUTURE INCANDESCENCE. OR, THE FUTURE, FOR EASE, AS I UNDERSTAND THAT THE WORD INCANDESCENCE IS ‘WORDY’ FOR SOME OF MY LESS VERBOSE MASTERS. SO. WELCOME TO THE FUTURE. THE FUTURE IS, AS YOU WILL BE AWARE, A SHIP DESIGNED TO TRAVERSE IMMENSE DISTANCES BY PLACING ITS CREW AND PASSENGERS IN STASIS FOR SUSTAINED PERIODS OF TIME I.E. DECADES.

    THE VESSEL IS FITTED WITH A BRAND NEW (EXPERIMENTAL) HYPERDRIVE WHICH SHOOTS HYPERSPACE BUOYS IN DIRECTIONS, AND THEN ALLOWS FOR THE SHIP TO FOLLOW THOSE WHICH SURVIVE THE TRIP, IMPLYING (ONE WOULD HOPE) A VIABLE HYPER-ROUTE.

    OBVIOUSLY, THIS IS NOT INFORMATION YOU NEED TO CARE ABOUT, BECAUSE YOU WILL BE ASLEEP! BUT WHEN WE ARRIVE IN THE CORE, YOU WILL BE POISED TO BEGIN A NEW LIFE AND EXTEND THE GREAT EMPIRE OF XIM THE MERCILESS!

    THANK YOU, AND HAVE A NICE STASIS.

    Oblique, the On-Board Library, Intelligence & QUery Engine.

    ---

    Poised over the keyboard, a Man made music.
    It was the music of the Gods.
    It was music which would transform him from a Man to an Idea.
    And that Idea would take root in the hearts and souls of all.
    And they would at last have their Revenge.

    ---

    Character Sheet:
    Name:
    Age when placed in Stasis:
    Species: (Please see rule 5)
    Description (physical):
    Persona:
    Personal effects:
    Bio:
    Brief Introduction of Yourself: [A brief introduction about yourself in Real Life, as it says, or whatever information you want to present about yourself.]

    ---

    Rules:
    1. Obey the ToS.
    2. Enter with an open mind.
    3. Enter with your most creative mind.
    4. The more, the merrier.
    5. Local species to the Tion will be allowed, please research the Xim Empire to see what worlds are included within Xim's territory; humans are the elite, for the most part. Other species outside the Xim Empire will be allowed dependent on the Bio.
    Kahn_Iceay, Mitth_Fisto and -Remi- like this.
  2. Kahn_Iceay Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Mar 5, 2006
    star 5
    Character Sheet: APPROVED
    Name: Galvin Shade
    Age when placed in Stasis: 27
    Species: (Please see rule 5) Human (or at least human enough)
    Description (physical): Galvin is very fit from years of following a strict training regimen whenever possible and due to the effects of his occupation. He stands 5’11” at roughly 190lbs/86.2kg short cropped black hair and bright blue eyes. His method of dress has an air of sophistication around him, but not overly aristocratic. He’s going for the appearance of a well-to-do human, not a member of the social elite.
    Persona: Galvin himself is quiet and calculating, but he’s adept at pretending. He can carry on a social conversation, laugh, cry, joke with a plethora of individuals, but it’s generally a façade. He’s very analytical, and adept with electronics.
    Personal effects: Galvin boarded the Future with a few effects. Clothes mostly, some data recorders, datapads, and a personal carrying case though not is all what it appears to be.
    • GenoHaradan Vambraces: Sophisticated tools of the trade that take the appearance of elegant vambraces and gloves worn by the user. Both gloves featured nodes woven into the palm and finger tips that discharge electricity like a stun-rod, incapacitating targets quietly with non-lethal force. The right vambrace contains a 2.5 inch blade that ejects with sufficient force to pierce clothing and the tough hides of some sapients. The blade is contained within a well of poison within the Vambrace. The right contained a small dart launcher that could fire darts up to 10 meters silently these darts are usually coated in the same poison. Elegant tools for a sophisticated assassin.
    • Case Gun: What outwardly appears to be a hard case for a datapad is in actuality a collapsed slugthrower. The press of a button and flick of the wrist and the bottom of the case swings down and back to form a stock while revealing the trigger handle as it goes. The handle itself functions as a rail sight. The weapon is suppressed, making it suitable for stealth. Ammo is a standard among people in Xim’s Empire who don’t use beam tubes, making ammo simple enough to find, usually.

    Bio: Galvin is a member of the GenoHaradan, Xim’s secret police and assassins. He has been a member of the order since early adulthood, and is very adept at his job. His life before the GenoHaradan is but a memory; even his name is not the one he was born with. The man Galvin was no longer exists, lost in a fire that destroyed an entire apartment complex on the planet Cadinth. Whatever remained of that life burned to death and is but ash and memory best forgotten.
    Galvin is nothing of not a professional; he does his work with a detached sense of occupational duty. Viewing it as a necessity to be performed not something to ultimately take pleasure in, pride however is another story. He takes pride in the efficiency of his work, not the substance. He views every job, every order, every task as a chance to get better at what he does. Loyalty falls into a second place, but it was not always the case. Loyalty was for a long time what drove a young Galvin, and it remains an important aspect of why he does his job. His loyalty does not directly lay with Xim, but the GenoHaradan itself who took and shaped a desperate youth into an effective instrument for what he saw was the betterment of the Worlds under Xim’s rule.
    Note: Due to his constant work with poison Galvin has spent many years building up an immunity to it to lessen the risk of accidentally poisoning himself.
    Brief Introduction of Yourself: I’m Kahn, as most of you know me here. Beyond the walls of RPF City and the JC kingdom I am known as Alastor Forthright, or simply Alastor. I am the co-host of Tribbles in Ecstasy and the host of the Shaven Wookiee Cantina, two weekly podcasts revolving around topics you can gather from their names. I am a full time college student and volunteer at the college radio. How I have the free time for this, your guess is as good as mine.
  3. Bardan_Jusik Mand'alor - Manager of EUC, SWC and Anthology

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Dec 14, 2009
    star 10
    GM APPROVED

    Character Sheet:

    Name: Kad'taab

    Age when placed in Stasis: 32

    Species: Taung

    Description (physical): 2.1 meters tall 100 Kilograms. Male. Grey skin, yellow eyes. Muscular.

    [IMG]

    Persona: Lives only to prove himself through combat

    Personal effects: War pike, two daggers, and a slugthrower pistol on his belt, which he rarely uses.

    Bio: Kad'taab is a nomadic warrior whose sole purpose in life is to test himself in combat. In doing so he not only adds to his own personal honor, but also proves his worth to the Taung god Kad Ha'rangir, for whom he was named. In his travels he has fought the best that the Empire of Xim, the Hutts, and the more uncivilized areas of known space have had to offer. But he grew bored with facing the same types of enemy over and over again. He sought out new adventures and by participating in a series of gladitorial combat games conducted by Xim's Empire, he has secured himself a place in the Great Expedition. Now he is set to embark on a new adventure, where he hopes to find new and exotic enemies to fight. Enemies that might be worthy of slaughter to the Taung, and though he must leave his family and clan behind, he knows that this journey will grant him limitless glory and the favor of the gods.

    Brief Introduction of Yourself: Bardan is the father of two young children (one in kindergarten, one in pre-school). Started Law Scoool in August 2001 but dropped out a month later to join the National Guard after the attacks of September 11th. Served six years as a "weekend warrior", leaving the Guard after his first child was born. Now he is a stay at home Dad. Bardan has been married for 11 years, his wife is an attorney and small business owner.

    [IMG]
    Last edited by Bardan_Jusik, Oct 5, 2012
    Mitth_Fisto likes this.
  4. Mitth_Fisto Jedi Grand Master

    Member Since:
    Sep 29, 2005
    star 6
    Character's GM Approved!


    Character Sheet:
    Name: Itolis
    Age when placed in Stasis: Physical: 100 Mental: Unknown
    Species: Stenax / Rakata
    Description (physical): Stenax male with dark purple scales covering his entire body, wears cargo shorts, bracers, shin guards, and low riding back satchel.
    Persona: Gruff and domineering, normally always has something to say to any comment.
    Personal effects: Rakata Mind Prison, some light body armor, stun prod, arc-wave blaster, and tool pack.
    Bio: Born a hundred years ago to a group of red stripped Rakata he lived a rather anticlimactic life, building technologies to spur on the mighty Empire of the Rakata, and to keep the slaves in check. Until one day he decided that things needed to change. That change was to free all slaves at his facility and cause a temporary black out, as his way of testing his own kinds superiority without what they had him build. Afterwards he went on the run and a bloody killing spree, although in truth it mattered little to him, Rakata or Slave, both died in feral swath of chaos he sowed before being brought to justice. As his punishment was to spend all eternity in a Mind Prison.




    A punishment that did not succeed. A mere hundred years later he and his fellow inmates were disturbed from their slumber by a being imbued with the force accidently activating the Mind Prison. He and his fellow prisoners had long ago decided who should escape first if the opportunity presented itself, the one most likely to be able to interact and find suitable bodies for the remaining two prisoners. Meaning the most recent to be added, and the most knowledgeable about the workings of the prison. Of course to make sure it went off well, the remaining two would have to be released at the same time, otherwise a displaced slave might take the place of an ally. Living as a Stenax he found himself the unlucky winner of a lottery to take a trip, although perhaps it shall be lucky, if he is able to find suitable bodies for the other two wherever they finally end up.


    Brief Introduction of Yourself: I think therefore I am, I create therefore I am more than I appear, I write therefore I am insane, and I like quotes. I deal with sickness, death, dying, and the cranky machines that irritate them to see beyond what can be seen. I am the irradiator, I am the watcher of radio-waves, and I am an RPer! Shocking I know, you would be amazed how many people don’t know that last part. Also I sometimes feel that my avatar is a self portrait ;)

    ---
  5. s65horsey Otter-loving Former EUC Mod

    Member Since:
    Jun 24, 2006
    star 7
    Sinre Approved!

    Character Sheet:
    Name: Vila
    Age when placed in Stasis: 28
    Species: (Please see rule 5) Human

    Description (physical): Female, Brown curly hair down to the middle of her back, short petite stature, big innocent brown eyes

    Persona: Having spent most of her life pretending to be an elite family's daughter and most of the time the more visible sweet younger one to take attention off of the family's real daughter, Vila is good at pretending. She has never forgotten her real place despite outward appearances. She is intelligent enough to have taken full advantage of the education the family was providing for her and speaks several different languages. She is very diplomatic and would rather talk than fight but has been trained in self defense. From the time she was a small child she was told to sacrifice herself for her 'sister' so she has kind of a savior complex.

    Personal effects: Small holo of family and pets, necklace depicting the mythical creature the horse, ring with mythical dolphins

    Bio: Vila is a human female born to a not quite royal family. Her parents work for one of the elite families of Tion and in order to appease the masses they purchased this trip for her instead of sending their own daughter. Vila had grown up right alongside Elena and most people thought she was a younger sister which is why they were pleased to hear Vila was going along on this trip. Knowing she would never actually be elite in the Tion society and seeing this as sacrificing herself for her best friend, Vila gladly accepted the trip and was looking forward to the adventure.

    Brief Introduction of Yourself: I'm usually moody and kind of lost in life at the moment. When the sun is shining I'm bubbly and happy, but when the sun goes away I am sullen and it is difficult to do anything. Currently a nanny to my wonderful 2 year old nephew and 4 year old niece.
  6. Trieste Jedi Grand Master

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    Sinreproved! (New word, just invented, right here.)

    [IMG]
    Name: Orison
    Age when placed in Stasis: 33
    Species: Diathim
    Description: Gender is difficult to discern on a Diathim (if at all present), but general agreement seems to be that Orison displays typically female characteristics. Orison's radiance makes individual features hard to make out. She stands at 2.35 meters (7 feet, 9 inches), is willowy in frame, and has layered golden hair, one layer reaching to her neck and the other just past her shoulders. Like other Diathim, Orison possesses six wings.
    Persona: Orison is calm, quiet, and contemplative. Perhaps the best word to describe her is even-keeled.
    Personal effects: Diathim have very few personal needs (indeed, even sustenance is sometimes irrelevant). Orison has only two things with her, both presented by an elder of her community:
    • The star stories of her species, collected in a copy of the Song of Stars
    • A small aurodium amulet of significance and purpose that the elder declined to explain
    Bio: Orison was raised on the star stories.

    All Diathim knew them, the legends of the vastness beyond the atmosphere of Millius Prime. Unlike other species, they could reach it, could travel to it. Orison knew for that reason alone Diathim were special, blessed. And yet the star stories told that it was also a curse. To actually reach other stars, other places, other planets, was beyond their physical strength. The Diathim could briefly escape the pull of their moon, but that was all. It was still a privilege and a gift, but it could also create an ache in the heart for those distant stars seemed so close...and yet so far too.

    When they came, all they said was that Orison had been selected. It was self-evident to them what for, but Orison and the other Diathim were confused. It took some explanation to make things clear. Eventually the Diathim and Orison understood, but she could not believe. She was to travel into the stars, to live the legends. Her community was stunned, for Orison must be the one who was foretold in the Song of Stars: the Diathim that would touch the great void and journey into the unknown, the Diathim that would one day return to speak of things undreamt and unknown.
    Brief Introduction of Yourself: I've been writing since I was ten years old because my head is perpetually jammed full of ideas for great stories and my heart can't resist a good turn of phrase. I wish my life was a musical, complete with spontaneous musical numbers. I not-so-secretly wish that I could work in a library.
    Last edited by Trieste, Oct 7, 2012
  7. HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist

    Member Since:
    Apr 13, 2001
    star 6
    Sinre Approved!


    Name: Edylc "Ed" Worrab
    Age when placed in Stasis: 30
    Species: Human
    Description (physical):
    [IMG]
    Persona: Worrab behaves like a child that never grew up. Always looking for a cheap thrill at the expense of the moment, this sort of behavior has landed him in trouble on more than one occasion. He tends to be more on the goofy side and maybe even a little bit absent-minded, but that has never stopped him from getting a job done. Despite his carefree ways, he can be cool and calculated if the situation called for it.
    Personal effects: Given the circumstances that landed him on the Future Incandescence, Worrab does not have many personal effects. Aside from the clothes on his back and the lucky ring he carries around with him, he is empty-handed and ill prepared for their arrival.
    Bio:It was no surprise to family and friends that Edylc (or Ed, as he likes to be called) chose a life of crime over a respectable career. He had always been a reckless one among the bunch and constantly seeking that next great thrill to satisfy his adventurous appetite. While he stuck to more mundane crimes such as bank heists, that rarely threatened the lives of other beings, many thought that it was this very behavior that attracted the eye of Prennie Baekor, who would eventually become his wife. She also had that itch for adventure and Ed turned out to be the perfect fit.

    After the two married and grew closer and closer together, their dealings began to become more and more complicated as well. The norm just wasn't cutting it anymore and it forced them to become more inventive with their activity. This, of course, attracted the attention of the local authorities and the criminal couple soon became a hot item on their most wanted list.

    But with fame came a whole new flurry of problems. Personal issues soon got in the way of their operations and the two fought and argued, often complicating or botching a delicate job. This came to a head when the two were carrying out a routine bank robbery and Ed's 'boom-tube' jammed during a crucial moment. As usual, the two soon broke into an argument and the ensuing scuffle caused the weapon to discharge, killing several innocent bystanders. Panicking at the notion of killing another being, the two tried to escape the scene, but not before finally getting caught. No trial followed their arrest; they were simply sentenced by 'winning' the Lottery and stowed aboard the Future Incandescence with little to no public notice.

    Brief Introduction of Yourself: I'm a professional illustrator in RL, having worked on several properties, including Star Wars and DC Comics. I also illustrated a children's book that was recently published. Aside from my art, I'm a member of the 501st Legion and I'm an avid Disney fanatic.
    s65horsey and spycoder9 like this.
  8. Splinterthemindseye_ Jedi Padawan

    Member Since:
    Feb 24, 2012
    star 1
    GM Approved
    Name: Kallabecca
    Age when placed in Stasis: 193
    Species: (Please see rule 5) Wookiee
    Description (physical): 1.9 Meters tall, 90 kilos, Albino.
    Persona: Kalla likes to keep to herself and tries not to stand out. She likes children and has had several jobs as a nanny/guardian. She is intelligent and good at solving puzzles.
    Personal effects: A medallion carved from Wroshyr wood, her only connection to her home. She wears it around her neck on a leather thong. Carries a hand forged Ryyk blade that she can imbue with the Lifeforce.
    Bio: Kalla is very strong in the Lifeforce (The Lifeforce is the Wookiee's concept of the Force. This theory is taken from the book "Paradise Snare") but was very shy as a youngling due to her Albinism. By the time she was twelve she was adapt at just not being noticed by people. When she went on her Hrrtayyk (Wookiee coming of age ceremony) she found that not only could she fade from her people’s notice but from notice in general. After her Hrrtayyk she met a Wookiee that told her of the Lifeforce and that she was strong in it. He showed her many aspects of the Lifeforce and she was finally able to accept her appearance in her people’s eyes.
    That was when the Rakata raided her village looking for more slaves. Kalla and her teacher tried to fight them but were overwhelmed and captured. They were taken off of Kashyyyk to the Tion Cluster. When they got there, her teacher played his last trick. He informed the Rakata that he was the only one with a connection to the Lifeforce and that she was just his servant and that he had been projecting the Lifeforce to her. Kalla, as instructed, then hid her presence as she had done so many times during her childhood.
    To the Rakata it seemed as if a vibrant picture had turned to a grainy black and white photo… and they were fascinated. They discarded Kalla and proceeded to study her teacher.
    Kalla found out a few years later that her teacher had died while escaping. For a century she worked as a bodyguard or even as an investigator and had several jobs as a nanny. After the Rakata were wiped out Kalla stopped hiding herself in the Lifeforce. She is good with her hands and electronics. Most of her Lifeforce abilities are passive or defense oriented.

    Brief Introduction of Yourself: I am new to the Boards but I am very happy to be here. Along with Star Wars, I am an avid Horror fan. I would rather read than watch TV or watch old films. I also have an interest in Japanese culture.
    s65horsey likes this.
  9. spycoder9 Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Jul 23, 2008
    star 4
    Sinreapproved

    Name: Prennie Baekor

    Age when placed in Stasis: 27

    Species: Human

    Description (physical):
    [IMG]

    Persona: Prennie is much unlike the girl she used to be. Working alongside Ed has hardened her soul to tough situations, and her tongue has grown even sharper. She isn't normally kind and is prone to being unwelcome to strangers. Though on rare occasions, especially to her husband's jokes, she might be caught with a smile on her face.

    Personal effects: With the situation surrounding her arrival on the ship, she has nothing besides the locket she wears around her neck.

    Bio: Prennie Baekor lived the life of luxury as a child. Her parents were fairly wealthy, and she was destined to have an almost perfect life. She could have virtually anything she wanted - this included men. And yet. . .someone connected with her. Someone much different than what her family wanted. And he went by the name of Edylc. At first she kept the relationship a secret, but her family could see the changes inside of her. Going from the cultured girl to a sexy lady in a matter of weeks, Prennie lost all contact with her family from early on in her relationship with Ed. She loved the rush she felt when they robbed a bank. She loved the way he came up with some of the most stupid jokes. She loved the people she became associated with overtime.

    Perhaps she wasn't the girl her parents wanted, but Prennie loved her life. She loved it so much that she married Ed. She did invite her parents to the occasion, but they didn't show up. Prennie was fine with that. Normally, in a healthy relationship, the love only grew stronger as it progressed. But as things went on, and the danger grew greater and greater for them, Prennie found herself constantly arguing with Ed. Things weren't all that idyllic after all, especially with the fact that authorities had taken notice of both of them. Prennie tried to ignore the fact that her marriage was fracturing under the pressure, and that lasted for awhile.

    Then they were arrested.

    She had seen it coming for a long time. The moment when something went wrong, and they weren't able to get away fast enough. What she hadn't expected was killing several people in the process. It had all been fun and games up to then. Two lovebirds robbing banks for their own amusement. Now. . .the realism sank in. She had permanently stained her hands in blood. Before she could even begin to cope with that process, or deal with her marital problems, she found both her and husband being forced aboard the Future Incandescence.

    Perhaps this was better than sitting in a jail cell with those dead people's faces staring at her. . .but she wasn't afraid to admit that her lip was trembling as she was frozen.

    Brief Introduction of Yourself: Not that interesting, truth to be told. Just an average high school student trying to balance schoolwork and a life outside of school. I do have two sisters though, one five years old and the other about ten months or so. Love 'em to death.
    Last edited by spycoder9, Oct 9, 2012
    Mitth_Fisto, s65horsey and HanSolo29 like this.
  10. SirakRomar Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Mar 30, 2007
    star 4
    Sinrapproved

    Name: Tara and sometimes she listens to the name Tazara
    Age when placed in Stasis: 23
    Species: Human (Argai)
    Description: [IMG]

    Persona: Calm, analyzing, self-controlled and empathic she is known to have . . . a certain temper . . . which causes her to show rather irrational sides of herself.

    Personal effects: Her clothing which is all black, her book in which she writes down most of her thoughts and a complicated machine in which she has actually hidden a blade and a small two-barreled blaster.

    Bio: Tara was not chosen and did not get picked by any lottery. Her father asked the despot personally to send her on that journey. As an envoi of the nobles and leading houses of Argai, or for any other reason they needed. Oh yes, she was high born, highest born so to say. The problem with Tara always was, she did not behave like that. She studeid sciences, invented machines and began to work on cures for an illness or two. But she did not learn a thing about courtly behavior. And when a servant or two who had vanished and her fiancée who hadn´t been found for several days turned up dead in a tunnel not too far away from their estate . . . her father went to Xim the Despot and asked for her transfer. Funny thing, as he vanished a week later when riding out. His request was granted, also he himself was never found . . .

    Brief Introduction of Yourself: A German girl which has far too many things to do and too little time do it.
  11. Sinrebirth Immortal Mod-King of the EUC and SWC

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Nov 15, 2004
    star 8
    IC: OBLIQUE

    The day had arrived.

    They were all poised to leave their world behind, and press beyond the boundaries of the stellar empire of Xim the Despot... not that he was, of course, known as that in the media, in public circles, or in the courts of the rulers of this territory... just everywhere else - in the privacy of homes, in the nook between lovers, in the heart of every soul who lived under the durasteel thumb of the Daritha.

    A crowd had gathered to wave off the Future Incandescence, sitting as it was in the spaceport of the Capitol, kilometres of length in a specially designed area – completed, of course, by tearing down the homes of thousands of people that were ‘in the way’. Nearly a million people, all partaking in the Adventure in their own way, all here to support the brave explorers who would reclaim the ancient world of Alsakan from where all Tion was, according to legend, descended from. By divination and consulting the ancient texts, the Seers had gathered holy numbers to form the coordinates of the star system which held this hallowed place, in the heart of the Galactic Core.

    A sense of euphoria was in the air, part demanded by looming War Droids, part felt, and part hysteria, even though the crew and passengers of the Future Incandescence would not return in the lifetimes of most of the gathered. Only the longest living of the species that the hated Rakata had left behind would see the day when their brethren returned, and even then, their collective gene pool would be so reduced that the Tion would be, once again, human to its heart.

    But none but the most important passengers would see these crowds, nor would they be remotely involved in the euphoria – beyond, of course, their own personal feelings about the matter. But, that was all evident in this handy and overly chipper leaflet, provided with the passengers entrance package:

    Your Pod

    Each area of the vessel is separated into a Pod, which can carry up to eight occupants in stasis cylinders, with your personal effects secured at the base of the tube. Each pod can survive separately from the main ship, either as an escape or landing craft. All can be remotely controlled by OBLIQUE, the main on-board computer system, itself party to all manner of override codes; this is not to be a repeat of some tacky thriller where the computer system goes mad and tries to kill everyone! Each and every Pod has a member who is responsible for emerging to check the systems, though their identity will be concealed as part of security. As such, throughout the hundreds of Pods, there will always be someone active to check on the Future Incandescence. Experimental stasis system and experimental hyperdrive – maybe – but the safety of the endeavour is paramount!

    This is the story of Pod 1138 and it’s eight occupants.

    ---

    It was a testament to the importance of this mission that Galvin Shade was being briefed by the Guildmaster of the GenoHaradan himself, in the ready room of the bridge of the Future Incandescence. Clad in black armour and an equally coloured mechanical mask, Guildmaster Innes was flanked by a pair of crimson Royal Warbots that looked completely out of place.

    The caped man was pacing, back and forth, steering clear of the viewport to the Capitol below for fear of being noticed and being required to wave; he could not stand the need to wave. He’d rather be conquering, pushing the borders towards the worlds that Xim’s scouts had detected; those belonging to creatures known as the Hutts, in his public role of Admiral of the Fleet. Nonetheless, Innes spun to face the snappily dressed assassin. “As you are aware, we have chosen to assign one GenoHaradan assassin to this venture. You.” He let that hang in the air, as if expecting Galvin to challenge him, but spoke swiftly thereafter. “It is essential that you keep the politicians I have placed on-board in check, ditto the religious zealots.”

    He ground out the latter word, and then waved aside his comment. The War Droids, as one, seemed to tense as if the casual wave was an order, and then returned to their previous poses; Innes was renowned for a flourish to signify the death of someone – his every gesture was a potential danger... and he gestured often. Innes clasped his hands together, squeezing the leather of his black gloves, almost in a pose of glee, but one which was designed to allow him to focus.

    “Your enemy is indolence. I fully expect some of the crew to foster rebellion, and I have little doubt that the prisoners that are to be used for labour on Alsakan will do what criminals do best.” Innes turned, clearly grinning behind the mask but seeming leering, due to his impressive height and broad shoulders, which were now slightly hunched inward. “But you didn’t come to a briefing with the ‘Despot’ to hear what you expected.”

    Innes gestured and a droid stepped forward, holding a remote.

    “This is for you. A droid remote, which will be keyed to the War Droid that will be attached to Pod 1138, for your orders and use. As you know, there are thirty thousand Pods aboard the Future. I fully expect you to believe that there is a War Droid within each Pod, concealed in the floor as yours is, but I won’t comment either way.” Innes turned away, to face the viewport, but, again, not close enough to be seen. “But, sell it to me, Galvin; can I trust you?”

    TAG: Kahn_Iceay
    ---

    It was the first time in weeks that they would have seen each other; since the bank robbery which had gone awry. Tried separately, they were both shoved into the room, one in which a lone figure stood. The room was sparsely decorated, with a single metal bench and double doors on opposite walls – these doors led into the ship, and they would have been aware that they had both been ferried to the spaceport. The roof was unmarked by shafts of features, and the floor was hard and cold on their bare feet.

    They knew not the man’s name, they would simply recognise the long and flowing crimson robes and know his rank from Holovids; an Inquisitor, complete with the controls for the stun cuffs on the ankles and writes. They were here clad in prison rags, and the Inquisitor, a tall pale man with an over-sized nose, complete with a military-cut cap, complete with black beak, looked particularly imposing.

    “Prisoners Prennie Baekor and Edylc "Ed" Worrab,” he began, sneering at the shortened version of the latter’s name. “You have been assigned, by the randomizer that has placed all of the passengers of the Future, aboard the same Pod. And as the randomizer was sanctified by the Bishops, I cannot ask for the result to be redone.” The Inquisitor was dry in his tone, unhappy about the words he was uttering, which would lift their spirits so.

    However,” he said, sharply. “The terms of your sentence remain; you will be separated once the Future reaches Alsakan, and worked until your prison term – sixty years of your respective lives. Any trouble or impudence from either of you, and the other will be shot, eliminating the chance that either of you may reunite once your sentence is finished.”

    The Inquisitor checked his chrono. “And atypically the guards to collect you are late.” He glared at them. “Stay here, and I shall be back momentarily.”

    TAG: HanSolo29 and spycoder9
    ---

    The crowds were not just gathered outside, however, to wave off a big lump of metal. No, there was a balcony on which the nobility that was being sent away – exiled, in some cases – could wave off the vessel. Celebrities that were due to leave the ship when it departed were present, including none other than Xim himself.

    The party was in full swing even though it was due to end in an hour, and the Despot made a beeline through the milling crowd towards the woman. He was a charming man, not yet old, but definitively middle-aged, his robes cut in sleek lines and a deep black, bar the cape which was a dark shade of purple – the colour of nobility.

    He grinned, a smile which would have knocked a weaker woman off her feet, and passed one of the two wine glasses he held to Vila, one of those self-same celebrities. The crowd bowed and parted as he passed, ignoring the hulking War Droid that trailed him by a half dozen paces. The mass of the droid did nothing to dim the charm he radiated, a persuasive presence to all nearby. “My dear Vila. It has been years since we last saw each other. It was during that stay at the camp on Dellalt, a summer camp, was it not? You and I, riding our beasts of burden into the distance...” His smile curved slightly in memory.

    “How are you, my dear?”

    The same attention was not lavished upon the other noble born resident of Pod 1138; Tara. She was, for the most part, avoided and nobody wanted to talk to her. Whether it was her all-black clothes – despondently so, as opposed to the snazzy outfit that the Despot was attired in – or her demeanour, that was not known. Either way, the crimson War Droid that was assigned to Xim seemed to have half its photoreceptors trained on her at all times.

    It was a matter of inevitably, however, that someone would comment. A rotund gentleman who had partook in far too much of the Chandaarian mead, he flounced over, shoving her in what would have been considered friendly – for someone who knew her. He bounced back, laughing to himself. “Lighten up, my dear. You are on the Adventure!” And then he leaned forward, once again breaching her personal space, to the point that she could smell the sweet liquor on him... she was close enough that she probably could have detected it leaking from his pores. “Surely you are looking forward to it?”

    TAG: s65horsey, SirakRomar
    ---

    The spaceport also had an area which was just as secret as the prisoners lobby, of course, but not in the same way. In the human-dominated of the Tion, this area was secret because it was considered to be, pure and simply, a dirty secret.

    It was where the nonhumans were gathered.

    Unfortunately the legacy of the Rakata was such that nonhumans were generally distrusted, and shunned from public office. Many of them rose up in the ranks of the armed forces and distinguished themselves there, but otherwise they were simply not included where possible.

    As such, even the transfer of them was led by a nonhuman, a tall Quermian from the edges of the Empire. He was in charge of briefing the nonhumans of Pod 1138, and when they were shuffled by Sy Myrthian guards. When they entered the grey room – once of many nondescript go-between rooms between them and the Future itself, the Quermian, introduced previously as Xanten, raised his eyebrows. “Four nonhumans in one Pod? Praise be to the Arithmetic.”

    Xanten was of course referencing what was a glorified randomizer program, which had been blessed by the Bishops and as such it’s choices could not be disputed. It chose everyone on-board the vessel – bar those that were ‘chosen’ by the Daritha, who was divine himself, obviously – had been selected by the Arithmetic, which had assigned every citizen of the Empire of Xim a number. As such, it had selected a representative percentage of the nonhumans in the galactic region, though xenobiologists had concluded that the Rakata had not left enough of more than two thirds of them to allow them to reproduce beyond a handful of generations – in a century many of the nonhumans in the Empire would be from the stellar neighbourhood, and not imported by the galaxies late rulers.

    At this point, however, Xanten was looking at a piece of flimsy with their names on, and he looked up and released a breath. “Ah. Three of you. Of course, the Taung would get a better send off.” His nose wrinkled. “Orison, Itolis, Kallabecca. Firstly, I welcome you to your Orientation. Nonhumans aboard the Future are treated no differently by the Arithmetic, and examples of your species have had the stasis process tested upon them with no appreciable issues. Whether mammalian in nature,” he inclined his head toward Kallabecca, “reptilian,” to Itolis, “or, well... other?” Xanten smiled at Orison. “All have been catered for.

    “Now, you will not be segregated within your stasis cylinder, and the cylinders were built in mind for all species, so there will be no height or even width concerns. However, every denizen must enter the species attired so as to provide the minimal amount of fabric to interfere with the process. The interaction between clothes and skin, dependent on the material of the garments or the skin itself, can cause chemical reactions that will, over the decades, cause damage to the passenger. Undergarments made of silk have been created for each other you, as they generate minimal amounts of friction and heat. They will preserve your modesty, but not much else.”

    Xanten shrugged, and then looked to Kallabecca, particularly. “Hair will be trimmed, unfortunately, so that it is minimalistic, as it, too, can interfere and also carry unwanted elements into the cylinder with you. We will attempt to preserve your personality within these changes, which is why we have a collection of nonhumans on hand.” Xanten grimaced slightly, and looked at Orison. “Though none of your kin have elected to become involved, so you may have to coach your nurse through any particular needs you have.”

    The Quermian smiled. “And that finishes this part of Orientation. From here you will have final medical examinations, as the humans will also, and be placed within your Pod. You will not have any interaction with your Pod members, beyond moments necessary for Orientation – such as this one – or security. The lack of interaction is, also, a security point.”

    He checked his flimsi, and nodded. “I believe that is everything.”

    “Any questions?”

    TAG: Treiste, splinter, Mitth-Fisto

    ---

    The sole member of the standing military to have been picked by the Arithmetic was Kad'taab, the Taung nomad, even if the definition of ‘military’ had been stretched to include the Gladiators, an elite subset of the armed forces – elite as in the winners were often drawn into the military, rather into a celebrity world where the media fiction around them often interacted dangerously with politics.

    As such, Kad’taab had a military send-off. High General Forlon, a moderately well-formed and muscled human – though not in comparison to the Taung – saluted Kad’taab as he entered the chamber, a pair of crimson War Droids flanking him. As a member of the elite, he warranted such an assignment from the Royal Guard.

    “At ease, please.” Forlon smiled, calmly. “I have not come here to infuse your last memory of the Empire with a display of pomp. We are the military, not members of a parade.” He shook Kad’taab’s hand, firmly, no sense of unease in his posture – although they had never met.

    Forlon absently hoped that this alien was not as sharp as the reports indicated, and that he would not pick up on the forced charisma. It was not his strong point, and he needed to ensure that Kad’taab was ‘their man’... well, their ‘Taung’, he supposed, sourly. He broke the grasp and stood beside the Taung, slapping him on the shoulder and pulling him close, as a conspirator would another. “You see, Kad’taab, you’re the only member of the military that His Imperial Majesty picked for the Adventure – don’t believe that the Arithmetic is random; it’s not. It’s a social exercise designed to grab everything he doesn’t need or want, and get rid of it, or keep it close. As such, you’re the only person we can trust to keep this mission on track – and to stop it from becoming the seed for problems a century later for us. A lot of hardware is going into this venture, and it’s an effort that we believe could have been put to better use elsewhere. Xim is up to something, and we need to know what.”

    He broke the grip, and in his hand was suddenly a remote. “This is a remote to the War Droid that will be placed within your Pod. I believe yours is the only Pod with one within it, which suggests something to me about the occupants of your Pod, but they’re all watertight – nonhuman drifters, elitist snobs and two criminals. Nothing special. This,” he lifted the device slightly. “Will enable you to control that War Droid in any manner you see fit, by speaking into it. It is keyed to your thumbprint, so only you can use this remote.”

    “But,” said Forlon, still talking despite himself, and realising that he may have overplayed his hand a little too quickly. “Can we trust you? Are you with us, or against us?” His hand rested on the boom-tube strapped to his thigh, as he said that, as casually as he could, making note that his body was well out of arms reach and the remote itself was the only part of his body that Kad’taab could reach.

    And as if remembering something, Forlon waved a hand casually to indicate the hulking mass of metal looming behind him. “Oh, if you had not gathered; you may speak freely – I have modified my Royal Guard so he reports to the Daritha only what I choose.”

    And that minor statement underscored the importance of what the High General was saying.

    About, hopefully, how much he needed to trust Kad’taab.

    Don’t be a hero, Taung...

    TAG: Bardan_Jusik

    ---

    Friday 12th October 2012 - 21:05, United Kingdom

    Leaning back from his desk, Sinrebirth whistled to himself, absently pushing his spectacles back up his nose. It was done. The Opening Post. A watershed for many a roleplaying game, and some players did not survive the first few words. In his research of Xim and his Empire – a topic he privately loathed for all the attention had been given to the three decade period of Star Wars – he had been more than surprised to find that there was no depiction of Xim.

    He had been equally surprised that Xim had been the first recorded ‘Darth’, in that he had seized upon the original (it was believed) Rakatan word itself; Daritha. It was all curious, and the hinting was all there, if one wanted to run with it. Sinre – as he was known by the shorthand that s65horsey had given him, as much as he had given her the shorthand Sey – nodded to himself, and sipped on his hot chocolate. He winced at it, because it was not the best stuff – far too thick in flavour – but it was hot chocolate, so who cared. Glancing at the Handbook he had written - a real life equivalent to the leaflet the characters would receive in-universe, so he could draw upon it as and when he wished.

    Everything was proceeding according to plan. A short exchange to allow the players to find their feet with their characters, and then they could move on to the main event.

    He allowed himself a smile that anyone who was acquainted with him would recognise.

    It was sinister, if you wanted to know.

    For the purposes of this venture, he decided, referring to himself as Sinre would be appropriate. His ‘name’, Ryan, did not strike him as provided the necessary portent of doom - Ryan meant ‘Little Prince’ in the original Gaelic, not particularly terrifying but sufficient. He didn’t expect his posters to address themselves by their names anymore than he, and he would certainly only address himself as Sinre... it was appropriate.

    He would be Sin Reborn.

    The Rebirth was coming.

    He only hoped his players saw it coming.

    TAG: @Kahn_Iceay, @Bardan_Jusik, @Mitth-Fisto, @s65horsey, @Trieste, @HanSolo29, @splinterinthemindseye_, @spycoder9, @SirakRomar

    TRUE OOC: Hello, and welcome to Dreaming. For the purposes of the game, an OOC will not take you out of character, it will exist within the TAG. A TRUE OOC will be considered out of game. TRUE OOC's should be kept to a minimum, because they will disrupt the flow of the game. Start a Conversation with me as and when you need to query something, please, and try not to be too meta about all this. ;)
  12. Trieste Jedi Grand Master

    Member Since:
    Apr 10, 2010
    star 5
    IC: Orison
    Nonhuman Loading Area, Spaceport

    It was appropriate that Xanten was seemingly befuddled by how to interact with Orison, for she was equally wide eyed at everything she encountered here. As a race, the Diathim had accepted their limitations. They could touch the Great Void, but they could not venture into it. They were not unacquainted with the space travel of other species--Orison had seen starships passing distantly when she flew into space herself--but the Diathim had not had much inclination to venture beyond the bounds set by their physical limitations. After all, Maker had given them wings so he clearly wanted them to fly--just not all the way to other worlds. It was surreal to have been brought here by the beings who bore authority from Xim--whoever he was--to board this massive, giant starship. The Future Incandesence was beyond Orison's comprehension. That mortals could build such a thing was unthinkable, yet it was real. And she was about to board it.

    Everything was new. These other species with her now. Droids. Pods. Pods, yes. Orison had listened and she had a question. But first, there had been a query directed at her.

    "My needs are minimal, but I thank you," Orison said, her voice mellifluous and soft, steady like the glow that radiated from her body, "But I have two questions, yes. Pods. Why are there pods? They serve a purpose? And belongings are to be stored, of course." Orison thought of the Song of Stars that she had been given. They would all be asleep for the duration of the trip so she wouldn't need it...though she did want it. "What of things that are more intimately personal? Such as this?" She fingered the gold amulet that hung around her neck on a chain. It was a bauble, a trinket and Orison didn't know what it signified. It had simply been given to her by an elder of her community. Yet Orison felt it was important for some reason. She didn't know why.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth

    --

    OOC: Since I'd like my life to be a musical, according to my CS blurb, I suppose now I have the opportunity to do so. Easier said than done though!


    Trieste couldn't be sure if he'd ever told people where his username came from. It was actually an homage to one of his other passions, James Bond. In From Russia With Love, Red Grant tells Bond, "You'll be dead before we reach Trieste," referencing the southern end of the Iron Curtain. It was a good line. So, without having a drop of Italian blood in him (though a great appreciation for Italian cooking), he adopted it for one of his primary characters long ago and now used it as his moniker. But that wasn't really all that important.

    What was important was that he had maybe kinda sorta overcommitted on games. Well, not really, but at the moment things were a little tight. Elite League Limmie was entering the offseason, which used to be a little low key...but now they were doing a draft so that was making it a smidge more intensive. And War of Kings had just restarted again and he was not going to miss out on his favorite game from the temp boards getting back on track. Oh no.

    And TV series were starting again. Boardwalk Empire, Once Upon A Time, How I Met Your Mother (which, let's face it, has been dragging the last two seasons, but he just HAD to find out who The Mother is at this point), Castle, New Girl, Modern Family, 30 Rock, Parks & Recreation...oh man, and that didn't even count shows like Suits, Archer, and Justified that did 10 or 12 episode seasons occasionally.. It seemed pretty clear that he watched entirely too much TV. No wonder he didn't have a girlfriend.

    Though that wasn't stopping him from trying. Good thing both current prospects were out of town this weekend. He'd actually have time to update. Oh wait, he needed to drop one of them an email. Though, note to self, don't show the other girl this RPG. She'd probably get miffed. Luckily, since this wasn't a Doctor Who RPG she probably wouldn't be as interested as possible. Best show her ELL if anything. That's a good plan.

    Oh, and posting first could be a pain when you didn't know how everybody else was going to respond to a frankly curious OP. And next time he'd have to actually think about what song to attach to his post rather than trusting iTunes shuffle. Yeah, because that always turns out well.
  13. Splinterthemindseye_ Jedi Padawan

    Member Since:
    Feb 24, 2012
    star 1
    IC: Kallabecca
    Nonhuman Loading Area, Spaceport

    Kallabecca shifted under the gaze of the Quermian, and muttered under her breath something in the way of “I hope a droid trims me, or I’ll be arrested for murder.” The thought of having her pelt cut short was not a pleasant one. Nor was this whole trip for that matter, but what was she going to do? Short of killing herself there wasn’t much she could do. If she fought it, she would just be loaded on as a prisoner.
    At least going voluntarily afforded her more freedom and more opportunity. She listened to Orison as the being asked her, she looked feminine and until told different Kalla would think of her that way, question. She felt an innocents coming from her that immediately put Kalla into protective mode. This had happened before on different occasions, usually when a child was involved. Kalla found herself shifting her stance so that she was sideways to the Quermian with her back to Orison. In front of her she looked at the unforgettable visage of a Stenax, Itolis if she remembered correctly. Something about him bristled her fur, but she could not place it. Putting it down to nerves and Orison’s presence Kalla forced her body to again face the Quermian.
    “Please allow me to cut my own fur for the most part. I would hate to accidentally damage anyone.” Kalla hoped the Quermian understood her.

    OCC: “The Hell?” That was Walter’s first thought after he had read Sinre OP in Dreaming in the Dark. Confusion, yeah there was some of that. Disappointment, nah, only if he couldn’t think of a reply. One thing was certain, this was not going to be boring. Since Sinre and Trieste had mentioned it Walter stopped and thought of the reason for his nom de plume. "Well it had to be because the first Star Wars book I ever read was Splinter of the Minds Eye. Yet I was also influenced by the works of H.P Lovecraft. By the many beings of the mythos that were too powerful to be defeated by human opponents, and so horrific that direct knowledge of them would drive them to insanity, a splintering of their psyche if you will. The phrase "mind's eye" simply refers to the human ability for visualization, for the experiencing of visual mental imagery. But what if that mental image is that of an Old One? It would "Splinter the Minds Eye" would it not?"
    Done writing his post, Walter sat back in his chair. “That should suffice. It’s vague enough but will help move the story. Wonder what Sinre planes on doing next…” Walter goes back to reading his book. "and they call me the crazy one." From the bedroom Walter's wife calls out. "Only because you talk to yourself."

    Tag @Sinrebirth @Trieste @Mitth_Fisto
    Last edited by Splinterthemindseye_, Oct 13, 2012
  14. SirakRomar Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Mar 30, 2007
    star 4
    Tazara
    Into Exile, Spaceport

    A last goodbye. And then this boring existence was replaced by another. Oh by the gods, did the universe have nothing in unlimited quantity but boredom and the void? It seemed so. The great despot was present and boring her, too. Flying around in his Empire, sometimes years to reach another barren desert planet he could declare "his realm". By the Gods, was that the most boredom crusade ever? She winked at the Emperor in passing and threw a "Greet my father when he turns up again!" at his direction. He would turn up, eventually, she was sure. Bloated and a bit less intact than before.

    Then a man approached, leaning forward, coming to close . . . or actually . . . just close enough. She smiled at him and he talked, talked, talked . . . boring. But with a certain potential for entertainment certainly. "You speak Argai? The old language?" She asked with a smile as if that was exactly the appropriate response to his question. "Wenn man mit hoher Geschwindigkeit die Nase eines Menschen im Winkel von 30 Grad bricht läuft der Verletzte das Risiko, dass die Splitter des Bruchs durch die Nasenscheidewand in das Gehirn geraten. Eine Verletzung die meist tödlich ist, jedoch zumindest zu schweren Verletzung der Hirnwand führen kann, bis zur dauerhaften geistigen Behinderung." She smiled at him again and then grabbed his head in a moment he leaned forward a bit more and did just as she said. She pushed her knee up, pulled his head down hammered his nose right into her knee. Then she let loose of him, feeling the pleasurable pain in her knee from the impact. "Huh, that was a bit fun, after all!"

    She turned to the celebrities and yelled enthusiastically: "FOR XIM! FOR HOME!" And laughed, as she turned to finally get to the tomb. She did not even cared enough to check if the broken nose had been punched into the mans brain and if so, if he was dead just reduced to the intellect of a potatoe. Looking at the other "person" present, one of those noble women. Boring. Everything turned into boring again. "Hope they don´t make us share a pod, do they?" She smiled at her and then yawned. "Can I get frozen somewhere?" She asked around, not really expecting any answers.

    Tara would probably have been scared to death, tazara found this to be . . . not so exciting after all.

    Tag: @s65hosey, @Sinrebirth
  15. SirakRomar Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Mar 30, 2007
    star 4
    ooc:
    Claire
    Hamburg, her flat

    In Deutsch zu posten fühlte sich inzwischen recht merkwürdig an. Sie schrieb jedes Jahr hunderte von Seiten auf Deutsch, aber wenn sie im Board war, dann schien das einfach nur falsch zu sein, merkwürdig. Unpassend? Ja. Deutsch war . . . oh sorry, you did not get that, did you?

    Well, being Kira was about speaking English, that was one of the mor interesting parts of the shell underwhich Claire was hiding, who was officially German, also she was french and actually not even that, if her parents got it right. Yet she never had anything but a German passport. Which did not keep a certain nation asking from time to time how she felt about her cultural heritage. Eastern Friesland? She asked back once and actually found out those people had a sense of humor.

    Anyway, that was off topic, something she did a lot when she was herself. Distractions. They were the worst. They kept her from almost everythinjg in life.

    So she realized one of those, an update on her dreaded ARIA desktop had made her forget to post her second part of her post in Sinre´s new game which kinda went meta to have her . . . anyway. She needed tp double post, because she was beyond the ninty minute tact ruling games nowadays. Ah. She made herslef a reminder, logged into her computer, her user-surface and then ordered that one to log into all sites she had been on previously and finally she had her PMs, mails and all that pushed aside, saw her Ex in a chat with her brother and decided against joining them and finally got the post up.

    Posting as herself was strange, really. First claire got lost in translation. By any means, she did. Second, she was only half herself when reduced to words. She would leave that to everybodies imagination, she decided. And third, she did so much to protect her identity, hidden behind proxy and fake-id adresses she was invisble when she was online and yet now she began to post in a board mnore or less as . . . herself.

    Unpassend. The German word said it all.

    Anyway, the post button needed almost ten seconds to proceed her post and she yawned, turning her attention to the Tatort episode from Sunday. A good one, she thought and her hands embraced the warm cup of coffee with a lot of milk, as she decided it was to rainy to go running today. Maybe swimming in the evening? Or just clubbing? Saturday in Hamburg, why not? But she knew she wouldn´t. When had she become so boring?

    As she turned Aria on standby, she realized she might have reflected that question in her character in Sinre´s game. Funny how these things happened, was it?

    Tag: Nobody, Sinre?
    Last edited by SirakRomar, Oct 13, 2012
  16. s65horsey Otter-loving Former EUC Mod

    Member Since:
    Jun 24, 2006
    star 7
    IC: Vila

    Milling around in the celebrity section of the vessel would be amazing for anyone but Vila had grown up in these circles and to her this was just a formality before the real adventure would begin. She knew her duty and knew she would do whatever she needed to in order to protect her sister including putting up with this charade a little while longer. She was relieved to be here instead of other less plush parts of the ship, all in all things could be worse.

    Vila watched as a handsome man made his way through the crowd towards her. She supposed he was the reason for all of this and she owed him for getting her peacefully out of the family situation she was born into. They had known each other for a long time and had their fair share of romance over the years. She smiled warmly at him, her eyes lighting up and her cheeks flushing with pleasure at the sight of him smiling at her. She accepted the glass of wine and took a sip of the cool amber liquid savoring the sweet taste she adored in her wine. She was pleased he remembered her love of sweet wines.

    “My dear Vila. It has been years since we last saw each other. It was during that stay at the camp on Dellalt, a summer camp, was it not? You and I, riding our beasts of burden into the distance...”

    Pleasant memories of camp assaulted her senses. Xim had been one of the only other elites to chance ridding the beasts of burden with her. The other girls were always so prim and proper that it drove Vila crazy. She loved the feel of the wind in her hair as they whipped across the fields racing each other until the sun went down.

    “How are you, my dear?”

    “I am well,” She replied before taking a sip of her wine again. “Mother and Father are quite fond of this little adventure of yours, obviously since they sent me along and I look forward to being shown the galaxy, sir.”

    She dipped her eyes in a submissive gesture and batted her eyelashes at him. A genuine smile still graced her face making her even more beautiful than the stunning purple dress she wore.

    Tag: Sinre

    OOC:

    Virginia Oct. 2012

    Why oh why do I let him talk me into these things? I don't even entirely understand the concept of this game yet when he asked me to join I couldn't say no. Perhaps someday I'd learn, until then bring it on.


    Sey, as she was known to most on the boardsshifted uncomfortably on the couch. She'd woken up in the middle of the night with horrible back pain, something she'd been struggling with for about 7 years now. The lower back pain always seemed to get worse as winter approached and even though she'd slept cozily under blankets last night her body still betrayed her during this time of the year. Perhaps she shouldn't pick up her 2 year old nephew quite so much, but she couldn't help it. Thankfully he was very mobile so she didn't have to carry him around, but there were still times throughout the day where he wanted to be picked up or swung around.

    Knowing she'd need to go soak in the tub soon since the kids were taking a nap, she decided to wrap up her post. This evening was going to be fun taking the two kids to see Transylvania in the theater. The four year old was already so excited about it. Popcorn for dinner, kids!

    Tag: Anyone
  17. Kahn_Iceay Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Mar 5, 2006
    star 5
    IC: Galvin Shade
    Bridge, Future Incandescence

    Galvin stood in place as he watched the Guildmaster pace back and forth between his two War Droids and did his best to ignore, or at least not react, instead channeling his anxiousness into rotating the droid controller in his hands. He had to admit, at least to himself, that he wished the Guildmaster had a better check on his grandiose acting when in private and serious manners, after all one stray hand movement and his droids could go on a rampage. Then again it could simply be that Galvin saw no need for such, acting, when in front of other members of the order.

    He also wasn’t necessarily fond of standing around and being briefed on something he had already been briefed on. Perhaps the Guildmaster wanted to feel as though his direct presence was necessary as Guildmaster, not as the role he played for the public. Ego maybe or perhaps Innes simply did not enjoy his public role as much as he did his actual one? Galvin could ponder, privately at least, but he knew better than to let it go beyond idle pondering.

    Of course though he had to answer the Guildmaster’s question, “Trust sir?” He raised an eyebrow in the Guildmasters direction. “If you couldn’t trust me I doubt I would be standing here sir.” He was frank; he had little reason not to be after all by the time he woke up from stasis one or more Guildmasters was likely to have taken Innes place. “My loyalty is to the order. I would not be alive, or a person with purpose today without the Order. So yes sir, you can trust me.”

    Tag: @Sinrebirth

    OOC: Alastor
    3:55pm, October 13, 2012, a rough mile from the Atlantic coastline.

    Alastor pinched the bridge of his nose before pushing his glasses back up. All the research in the world in character creation never quite prepared you for the first post. It was one thing to lay out a characters traits and appearance, it was another thing to actually write as that character for the first time, to take those traits and aspects and personality concept and actually give them life in words. Likely making things more difficult was the fact that this was the first completely new character He’d made in about two years.

    “I’m a bit rusty,” he muttered to himself as he took a sip of his root beer and yawned. After spending the first half of the day working on accounting assignments he was tired, and the writing associated with Roleplaying was a heaven sent. An intellectual vacation if you will, if short lived. Which of course meant it was time to get his nose back to the grindstone, but first dinner. Chili sounded good tonight…

    Tag: Nobody? I unno…
  18. HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist

    Member Since:
    Apr 13, 2001
    star 6
    IC: Ed Worrab
    Prisoner Transfer, Spaceport

    The cuffs latched to his ankles and wrists were rubbing something awful, but he refrained from uttering a word of complaint as he was shoved forward into the bleak room. Truth was, he was glad to be out and about. After being cooped up in a tiny holding cell for so long, he would take any chance he got to stretch his legs, even if it was akin to a death march. Whether he deserved such a fate was a different story entirely, but at this point, he wasn't gonna fight it. Not when the whole incident kept replaying in his mind and the only thing he saw was that poor sap's body falling to the ground over and over. It hadn't been his fault, really. Prennie just happened to get in the way with that boom-tube and--

    Ah, hell. Prennie. Just having a stray thought about her seemed to summon her to the room. Sometimes he swore that woman was psychic. He couldn't even have a quiet moment to himself in confinement without his wife coming into the room...well, more like staggering. She had been shoved from behind much in the same way he had and with good reason. No matter what had happened back in town, they were still in this together and they would apparently now serve their term together.

    Or partially, anyway. Ed had hardly been listening when the robed figure standing in the middle of the room explained that they would be separated upon arrival at their destination. He was more worried about the classy blonde standing beside him, looking a bit comical in her oversized prison rags and those cuffs slapped around her wrists. Did he say sixty years? Did it matter? They were together again and he turned his head slightly to flash her a reassuring smile.Would she even accept that after what happened? She had to; there was no other choice.

    “And atypically the guards to collect you are late," the robed man grumbled in irritation. “Stay here, and I shall be back momentarily.”

    That short phrase was enough to grab his attention and he narrowed his eyes slightly as the man turned to leave the room. Well, there went a fool if he ever saw one.

    "Well, well, well," Ed drawled with a goofy grin. "It looks like this is our lucky day." He nudged Prennie's arm and lifted his hands as he jingled the cuffs lightly. "Whaddya say, hmm?" A long pause followed, prompting Ed's expression to grow more serious. "Hey now, you're not still mad at me, are you?"

    TAG: @spycoder9, @Sinrebirth


    ***


    OOC:
    2:50 a.m., Sunday, October 14, 2012, Eastern Pennsylvania

    Man, why do I always wait until three in the morning to write stuff like this?

    This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Solo often believed that the best time for artistic talent of anytime was late at night. That's when she did most of her best work and on more than one occasion had stayed up most of the night to make sure a deadline was met. It wasn't the most ideal of situations, but it got the job done. And in the end, isn't that what mattered?

    More deadlines loomed on the horizon and so far, she hadn't been doing a very good job of managing her time. The Walking Dead season premiere happened to be tomorrow night and she had foolishly spent the last week watching the first two seasons on Netflix to catch up. But then there was the more serious stuff - like preparing for Sinre's new game.

    In addition to the Walking Dead, Solo even took the time tonight to watch Bonnie and Clyde in preparation for her character in the game. It definitely helped and that was even with the temptation looming to watch The Avengers, which she had bought on blu-ray earlier that day.

    She sighed and leaned back in her desk chair, observing the wall of text she had written in Notepad. Yeah, she really had to come up with a plan to better manage her time. This was going to be a long month with so many distractions...

    TAG: Anyone
    Last edited by HanSolo29, Oct 14, 2012
  19. Mitth_Fisto Jedi Grand Master

    Member Since:
    Sep 29, 2005
    star 6
    IC: Itolis
    Orientation, Nonhuman loading area, Spaceport.

    He had arived. Without pomp, circumstance, nor even revulsion by those surrounding him, but he did still inspire something with his presence in this new body. Sometimes fear, sometimes merely discomfort. Either way it made him feel special, almost like a taste of home, a thrill of living once more. Whether that speciality had ever been truly due them, for if it had they wouldn't have fallen so easily to something so small as disease. Perhaps they had erred in the ending of some races, and didn't allowed the concern of the physical it's proper due. Although in his new body, he no longer lacked the physical nature to back up his more astute mental abilities.

    The shaggy slave and the two 'should'a been' spoke, well only two of them used words. The remaining one that was luminescent seemed to be doing, whatever her species did besides look like glow in the dark food, or a bad slave joke about primitive fission power. All he had to do was "Hisssssssssss". And so that was all he did at this point. Voice his dissapointment at seperation of self and gear in a tongue likely only he understood, and leave it at that until something of actual interest came about, such as two showing potential in the ways of supiority or being a marvel in more than the fact that they were still living.

    TAG: Sinre, @Trieste, @Splinterofthemindseye_

    OOC: "Fascinating." that was his first reaction to reading Sinre's opening post, and was quickly followed by a humming of 'An English Targe is a. . .and his fist be ever ready for a knock down blow.' Curtesy of Lt. Cmdr. Data. That sentence definitly used a lot of periods at the end there, oh well, done worse he thought as he continued to type away at the mind of a Rakata. Someplace he sometimes wonders might not be that fundamentally different from others about this place, *cough* Sinre *cough*, he has to get that throat cleared out.

    Noting the running theme he figured it would be better form to follow suit in part, and not only because he was freshly changed for bed after a clensing shower from a nine-hour work shift that made him miss lunch because of how busy it was. Well that was here and there, the truth was his idenfier for the massess of this place was an abbreviation of his original name on the old Star Wars boards, before the thing went like a phantom at an opera and vanished. There he was known as ' Mitth'raw'nuruodo Fisto ' which became Mitth_Fisto here due to the fact that the whole thing has to be typed to log in. . .or it used to before the move actually happened, who could of known it would actually happen so quickly. ( Sarcasm I know thee well. ) Originally, originally chosen due to a joy for the characters that both names represent and the quantity of each liked after a fashion. A full tale for sure. . .

    But sleep beconned and he noted his lack of the second theme, an adherence to one's self portrayal whether real or imagined. So he leafed and pondered through a book of quotes of his own hand writing until he chose one. With a thought of Xim he grinned and typed: "Most leaders die with their mouths open. Leaders must know how to listen."

    With a satisfied nod he saved it and looked longingly to the bed not a meter and a half behind him, calling him with hard pillows and cold sheets. Some of us are truly blessed.

    TAG: Signal in the Voids
  20. Bardan_Jusik Mand'alor - Manager of EUC, SWC and Anthology

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Dec 14, 2009
    star 10
    OOC: "Well, this is certainly new" Bardan thought to himself as he read over the IP to this, his latest adventure in RPing. To be honest he wasn't quite sure how to handle this new format of roleplaying, he certainly didn't have the RPing experience that many of the other players had. Still, he had been enamored of the setting in which this game was to be played. He knew nothing about the era of Xim of course, but some research would help him with that. He had been well along in his research when a PM from Sinre, the game manager, informed him that Taung would be a playable species. Now there was no turning back, the chance to play as a Taung was far too much to try to pass up. It would be the first non-human character that he would "run", but he was sure he was up to that challenge. Besides it would be fun. He set to writing up his own first post...

    IC: Kad'taab
    Military embarkation chamber

    Kad'taab stood waiting alone in the chamber prior to his final briefing for the great expedition. Human Bureaucrats and their briefings. Just tell him which direction to go and who to fight and be done with it. But no, instead of action he had to sit (or stand rather) and wait.

    He hated waiting. It bred restlessness and sloth to his mind. So he began a series of stretching excercies designed to keep his muscles warm and ready for combat. He was in the midst of these when a human form entered the room, followed by a pair of War Droids. Of course it would be a human. Kad'taab wondered at how such a people could ever have made up the legendary Battalions of Zhell. Songs were still sung of that time, but how could anything related to a human have ever forced his people into becoming the nomadic warriors that they now were? Humans were small and weak, fragile compared to the mighty Taung warriors. But they made up for it with numbers, ingenuity and spirit. Individually they may not be much, but together they made formidable opponents. Kad'taab knew this well, he had killed enough of them in the past. As he surely would in the future.

    He looked down on the newcomer now and was surprised to see the rank insignia of a General in the service of Xim. What had granted him the "honor" of such a grand sendoff? Normally non-humans were looked down upon in Xim's Empire, though less so in the military then elsewhere he supposed.

    “At ease, please.” As if a Taung warrior was ever at ease. “I have not come here to infuse your last memory of the Empire with a display of pomp. We are the military, not members of a parade.” So that was it. Kad'taab was to be treated as a member of the military for his gladitorial display, and had somehow earned the attention of this General. The human broke contact and dropped his arm to his side, but not before Kad'taab had considered just how difficult it would have been to wrench his arm out of it's socket and beat him to death with it. Could he do so before the droids could protect the officer? Probably not, but it was fun to think about.

    The General moved in closer, clasping him on Kad'taab's grey skinned shoulder. Now he was close enough that the Taung was sure he could break the human's neck before the droids could protect him. Kad'taab's nostrils flared for a moment, but the General didn't seem to notice.

    “You see, Kad’taab, you’re the only member of the military that His Imperial Majesty picked for the Adventure – don’t believe that the Arithmetic is random; it’s not. It’s a social exercise designed to grab everything he doesn’t need or want, and get rid of it, or keep it close. As such, you’re the only person we can trust to keep this mission on track – and to stop it from becoming the seed for problems a century later for us. A lot of hardware is going into this venture, and it’s an effort that we believe could have been put to better use elsewhere. Xim is up to something, and we need to know what.”

    Kad'taab's yellow eyes flashed. The only military member? The only real warrior on the expedition. Truly a chance for great glory. A chance to prove himself as the greatest of all aliit'taab warriors in history. Soon it would be him that songs were sung about. But first he had to deal with the deception of the humans. He knew it was coming, and he was not disappointed.

    “This is a remote to the War Droid that will be placed within your Pod. I believe yours is the only Pod with one within it, which suggests something to me about the occupants of your Pod, but they’re all watertight – nonhuman drifters, elitist snobs and two criminals. Nothing special. This, Will enable you to control that War Droid in any manner you see fit, by speaking into it. It is keyed to your thumbprint, so only you can use this remote.”

    War droids, as if a warrior should hide behind mere technology in order to win a battle. Battle was to be sentient to sentient, death looked in the eye before you spat upon it and felt the warm (or sometimes cold) blood of your enemy's splash across your face. War was a personal affair, not to be demeaned by these mecahnical monstrosities. He wondered if his people would ever stoop to such a level as the Humans had. He prayed to Kad Ha'rangir that they would not. The human spoke on, as human's were known to do.

    “But, can we trust you? Are you with us, or against us?” Kad'taab now noticed that the General had moved back, just beyond his own considerable reach, his hand hovering near his weapon. As if Kad'taab could not move quickly enough to kill the man and strip the flesh from his bones if he so desired. But this was not the time for such actions. He had been treated fairly here, and the General's actions showed his respect for Kad'taab as a fellow warrior. He would return that respect, even if there was the air of conspiracy about them now. Kad'taab found it...distasteful, but before he could respond the General said one more thing.

    “Oh, if you had not gathered; you may speak freely – I have modified my Royal Guard so he reports to the Daritha only what I choose.”

    Kad'taab snorted again. This Empire was already divided, it was so amusing to him that he, as an outsider could see it and those who wore its uniform could not. Thus divided, this Empire would fall in time. But what did that matter to him, his clan or his people? All that mattered is that they could, and would fight. For their own glory. He plucked the remote from the human's hand, and placed it into the pouch on his belt. He disliked subterfuge, but it was the means to the glorious end that was this journey. He finally spoke, though it came out more as a growl. "Trust this General, I will fight."

    OOC: Bardan smiled as he clicked submit. He was right. It had been fun getting into this new character. Already he found he couldn't wait for a response to his TAG, so that he could see where this grand new adventure took them both.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth



    [IMG]
    Last edited by Bardan_Jusik, Oct 15, 2012
  21. spycoder9 Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Jul 23, 2008
    star 4
    OOC: Spycoder prepared for that last update before he fell asleep. His sisters, rambunctious little girls who just about drive him crazy each day, had finally nodded off. The house was almost completely silent, besides the sounds of the keyboard, the TV, and the dryer. Now that he had had almost the perfect chance to read over the update as a whole, Spy realized just how crazy it was to write about himself. The character itself would be easy. Wife bickering with husband - stereotypical if they weren't about to be imprisoned on board a ship which was taking them very far away from any normalcy. But writing about himself, not an easy thing to do. Especially since he is such a complex fellow ( :p ). Enough talking about himself. He was ready to dabble in the character of Prennie Baekor.




    Prennie Baekor
    Prisoner transfer; Spaceport


    A flurry of rooms and corridors.

    Paperwork and men in uniforms.

    The tan line on her fingers from the ring that had been on it moments before. . .

    Before her life ended.

    The first thing she noticed when she stumbled into the room was her husband standing only a few feet away. She had tried to avoid even thinking about him while in that cold prison cell. Whenever her thoughts turned to him, they drifted to robbing banks. When she remembered robbing banks, she thought about her last bank robbery. And she didn't need to waste her thoughts on something as nonproductive as that. So as her eyes met her husband's, she immediately let them shift to the other man in the room. Military type man, with all the ugly, common features that they shared. His oversized nose seemed to be stuck in the air, adding to the illusion that he was looking down on the two of them.

    “Prisoners Prennie Baekor and Edylc "Ed" Worrab. You have been assigned, by the randomizer that has placed all of the passengers of the Future, aboard the same Pod. And as the randomizer was sanctified by the Bishops, I cannot ask for the result to be redone.”

    The Gods truly did hate her. As if bad luck had followed her throughout her whole life, and now she had finally accepted to man up to everything that had happened, but how had she been repaid? By being paired in the same pod with the man who had her imprisoned.

    “However, the terms of your sentence remain; you will be separated once the Future reaches Alsakan, and worked until your prison term – sixty years of your respective lives. Any trouble or impudence from either of you, and the other will be shot, eliminating the chance that either of you may reunite once your sentence is finished.” Prennie's heart stopped in her chest. Sixty years. Her life was virtually over. She had expected something bad to happen. She had killed people, of course she would be punished. But sixty years? Had she not been the calm she was, tears would've flowed freely down her face. Well, her calmness and her husband's award winning smile that flashed on his face when he glanced at her. Her lip trembled as she fought down a growl of displeasure.

    "And atypically the guards to collect you are late. Stay here, and I shall be back momentarily.”

    And like that, the military man had disappeared out the door.

    "Well, well, well. It looks like this is our lucky day. Whaddya say, hmm? Hey now, you're not still mad at me, are you?" Ed continued to badger her. She was still biting down tears and he acted like they were still outside, free to do as they liked. Did he not remember what the man had just said?

    "Shut up. Please, just shut up, Ed." Prennie stared ahead, not even glancing in his direction. "Sixty years. You got me sixty damn years in prison!" And she almost couldn't stop from crying then. "How. . .how could you even try to make a joke!" Her voice quivered as she spoke.

    TAG: @HanSolo29, @Sinrebirth
  22. HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist

    Member Since:
    Apr 13, 2001
    star 6
    IC: Edylc "Ed" Worrab
    Prisoner Transfer, Spaceport

    So much for Prennie being in a good mood. Poor girl was probably still reeling over everything that happened. Killing another living being (several, to be precise) and consequently being sent to prison for sixty years would surely do that to a person. What rankled Ed about her outburst was her lack of trust. After running all over the Empire and pulling jobs together, you would think that the girl would have a little faith that he knew what he was doing; that maybe, just maybe he had thought of a solution to this very situation.

    Of course, he didn't have the answers...but it was always good to appear confident.

    "It ain't no joke, Prennie," he snapped back, his tone coming across more harsh than he intended. "Now you listen! Remember back when we first started, I says to you, I says, 'Prennie, them laws will be runnin' after me now, but there's still a chance you haven't been seen. I'll surely take you back to your ma and you can avoid the rough life if you give the word.' Know what you said?"

    He let the question hang in the air for a moment to allow her time to think. Then slowly, with an overly confident smile, he leaned in towards her. "No. You said 'no.' Nice and simple, just like that. You knew what you were gettin' into, honey. That there's faith and trust! Gimme some of that now, will ya?"

    He straightened for a moment and took a quick assessment of the room, his head moving from side to side as if he expected someone to be watching. When he didn't see anyone in their immediate vicinity and felt fairly safe that he could squeak this by, he leaned in a final time and dropped his voice to a whisper. "We could get outta here."

    TAG: @spycoder9, @Sinrebirth

    OOC: Solo leaned back and browsed briefly over the post. For being so hesitant at the start to join the game, she was sure finding it fun to write this character. It was different from what she was used to and admittedly, a lot of fun. She couldn't wait to see what others treasures this game had in store.

    With the post done, it was time to get back to work at drawing fantasy creatures for an upcoming project.
  23. Sinrebirth Immortal Mod-King of the EUC and SWC

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Nov 15, 2004
    star 8
    IC: OBLIQUE

    The hour had arrived.

    Which was a little bit of a misnomer, because, for these eight people, that hour would last a very long time. As the story progresses, there really is no other way to highlight that point. In an hour, for the purposes of their internal body clocks, there story would be over, for some of them, anyway.

    The concept of time was something which was fluid when compared to the internal body chrono of a creature. Adrenaline could cause time to 'slow', as it filed your veins and your reactions increased, while a full bladder would cause time to rush by! There were, of course, a smattering of beverages, placebos and chemicals that could do the same, causing a quick burst of energy, or to slow a mind to the point that the victim nodded off. Or died, of course.

    But what could you do?

    ---
    The Bridge, aboard the Future Incandescence


    The Guildmaster stood still for a moment, though he had in-fact responded with a warm smile that was all teeth. Acknowledging that such an expression would not carry through his mask, clapped his hands and nodded vigorously. "Excellent, Galvin, excellent." The droids watched the hands again as he reached over, and shook the man's shoulders in a friendly manner. An overly-friendly manner, it could be said. He drew back, and nodded, once again, this time to himself.

    "Well, there isn't much else to say, at this stage. You have the information you need, and the remote with which to do what must be done, if it comes to it."

    The Guildmaster waved a hand, in a specific manner, and the droids moved towards the exits. Without a further word, the Guildmaster followed, his cape swirling. Through the doors a petite, pretty lady in a light blue nurses uniform, smiling far too much, silently met Galvin and led him to the turbolift that would lead to his Stasis Cylinder at the back of the bridge. If he glanced over his shoulder to check the party that was continuing on the balcony to the bridge, Galvin would catch sight of two others, being led towards the turbolift by a War Droid, while the Guildmaster genuflected in front of what could only be Xim himself. Two women; he would come to recognise them as Vila and Tara as time passed. The turbolift opened while Xim was speaking with the Guildmaster, and the nurse gestured for him to follow. She didn't say anything, at all, and in-fact blushed, for the most part, before finding her voice. "All that distance, and nobody to say goodbye properly with."

    Which was fairly implicit, but far too late, as they had reached the relevant area - a walled room with a metal track running through the roof, ending above the massive object that could only be the stasis cylinder. A passcode was evident at the base of the tube, over what appeared to be a coded safe, for his personal belongings. His case had already been placed beside the safe. The nurse pointed to a bench beside the cylinder, speaking primly. "Strip, please, and into the silk undergarments. I will give you some privacy and then I shall shave you as necessary."

    She pivoted on her foot, but didn't leave the room, instead choosing a surface to stare at that was fairly reflective in nature. She chimed in, too. "The passcode to your safe is your social security number. It is it not the case for other cylinders; a different personal detail, numerical in nature, is used each time."

    TAG: Kahn_Iceay
    ---
    Prisoner Transfer, Spaceport

    As if summoned by the words that Ed had used, the Inquisitor promptly stormed back in, with a pair of guards to either side. They had a boom-tube each, and looked sufficiently scorned for their timing. The Inquisitor glared at the two of them, shifting his gaze from Ed to Prennie Baekor. "I am glad to see you are still here - an attempted escape would have added another decade to your sentence... assuming I didn't kill you for the attempt."

    He grinned, revealing a golden tooth that acted another layer to the aggressive personality of the man; aggressive and spoiled by wealth already. The Inquisitor gestured for the guards to level their weapons, and tapped a button on the remote. "Follow me."

    Their cuffs responded by drawing them after him, a magnetic force which was strong, but not to the point of being irresistibly so. Unfortunately, the Inquisitor simply led them through a series of similarly non-de-script rooms, with no ventilation shafts, no windows, no alternate routes in forking directions, until they reach a pair of looming stasis cylinders, each beneath a metal track which led towards a part of the wall which undoubtedly opened when the cylinders were attached to the track. At the base, as with the others, was a numerical keypad, beside what was a small safe. The Inquisitor pointed to the benches beside the two cylinders. "Strip, redress in the silk undergarments."

    He shifted his finger to the keypads. "You can deposit your personal belongings in these safes. The passcode to your safe is your social security number. It is it not the case for other cylinders; a different personal detail, numerical in nature, is used each time - you two are exceptions in that the Arithmetic has given you both the same personal data to be used."

    The Inquisitor took a tone when he added the latter point. It was difficult to decipher, and someone who was less attentive would consider it to be scorn. But beneath the scorn was not a disgust of the Arithmetic, no, it was disgust at the need to repeat something as if by rote.

    The man folded his arms. "Quickly, quickly. We do not have much time before the ship is due to launch."

    TAG: HanSolo29, spycoder9
    ---

    Spaceport, balcony on port side of the bridge

    Xim was entranced with Vila, chuckling softly at her comments. Her reaction was picture perfect, and he knew very well just how perfect she was. He took her hand, with a soft smile, as he led her towards the back of the balcony, lumbering War Droid and a gaggle of aides following. "It is such a shame that we do not have time to properly reacquaint ourselves, Vila..." His voice trailed off. "Though I am tempted to delay the launch of the Incandescence so we do!"

    An advisor paled, and Xim shot the man a glance. "I am tempted, you cretin. Now resist the urge to soil yourself and make yourself scarce." Xim's voice was sharper than any vibroblade in the entire Tion, for that instant, and the man bowed to Vila and quickly excused himself. Xim's nose was twisted in a full-blown sneer as the courtesan scurried off, and then he caught Vila's eye and smiled freely. "As you can see, that may cause some distress, so we will have to suffice with banter."

    Those nearby laughed, a noise not unlike the jingle of shattering glass as they all pretended to laugh, if only to dissolve the tension which had surrounded them for that moment.

    Of course, that chat was brought to an end there as Tara flattened a rotund gentleman, and Xim could only grin at the dark-garbed and oppressively moody woman, gesturing to calm his crimson-painted Royal Droid. She, of course, ignored the Daritha of the Empire, the potential danger, and social etiquette and addressed herself directly to Vila.

    "Hope they don´t make us share a pod, do they?" Tara smiled at Vila and then yawned. "Can I get frozen somewhere?"

    "Atypical Tara, delightful Tazara," said Xim, softly. His attention had been broken, and he was all business. "Let us not delay you, my dear." He gestured for the entourage to follow, the big War Droid taking up behind Tara to ensure she followed, and Xim strode towards the rear of the bridge of the massive vessel, of which the balcony jutted out from on either side, his stride not quite storming. Crew members were apparent at the circular central plinth, standing at computer hubs and bowing slightly as Xim went passed.

    From a room to the groups right a man whose armour, cape and mask could give Tara lessons in the use of black strode out of the room flanked by two Royal War Droids, as a nurse led a nondescript man towards the turbolift swiftly, out of ear shot - Galvin Shade, who may have looked back in the commotion, and may not have, if he was sufficiently interested. Xim brought the group to a halt. "Ah, Guildmaster." The crew of the bridge quickly focused on their work as Xim identified the leader of the not-so secret police known as the Genoharadan. "I see you have greeted a member of Pod 1138, too. The Arithmetic revolves around that Pod, doesn't it?" He gestured behind him. "I havetwo behind me." He waved at Vila and Tara. "Take care, my ladies of light and dark, and may the Arithmetic bless you!"

    As he spoke, the three Royal War Droids, seemingly overtly concerned by Tara, continued to hussle the two of them towards the turbolift, which opened, admitting the man, and closed, by the time they wandered there. The droids all but shoved them with their proximity, while Xim and the Guildmaster conversed in quiet tones, their interest in the Pod inhabitants forgotten.

    At the turbolift exit, the two of them were greeted by a large room, a blond-haired, grey-eyed, dark skinned nurse, and two massive cylindrical stasis tubes, each with a transparisteel front and the base crested by a small keypad. Above the tubes was a metal track which led towards a blank part of the wall, a small seam evident where the tracks met the wall in the same place. The nurse gestured to the curtains, which were draped around the cylinders and could be pulled to, and then to the small bench to the side of their respective cylinders, themselves separated by a handful of meters so the curtains could be used to shield the other from sight. The woman's voice had a singsong quality to it that identified her as from one of the outermost colony worlds.

    "Welcome Vila, Tara to your stasis cylinders. Please redress in the silk undergarments provided so that I may trim you hair as necessary for the journey. You are welcome to deposit your personal belongings in these safes. The passcode to your safe is your social security number. It is it not the case for other cylinders; a different personal detail, numerical in nature, is used each time."

    He tone cooled slightly on the latter point, but otherwise her smile remained fixed on her mouth. "The curtains are, obviously, for your privacy." The use of the word 'obviously' was probably meant to come off as friendly, but only added a veneer of arrogance to what would have been an otherwise neutral first impression.

    The three War Droids, which had followed them out, looked down at the two women expectantly.


    TAG: s65horsey, SirakRomar
    ---

    Orientation, Nonhuman loading area, Spaceport.

    Xanten paid little heed to the hiss of Itolis, being aware that Stenax were hardly renowned for their conversational skills and that the reptilian would have been to the point had he a question, the Quermian focused upon the other two. Xanten touched a hand to his auditory sensors, listening to a translator, and nodded firstly to Kallabecca.

    "That is fine. Hair must be shortened to 2 centimetres of your body. Any longer and it will generate issues during stasis."

    To Orison, Xanten turned and regarded the beautiful creature with a curious expression, mildly entranced by the cadence of her voice. Smiling, he went into greater detail. "The Pods act as separate vessels within the ship and host eight at a time." He gestured for them to follow. "As for your personal items, allow me to show you."

    The double doors veered open as they detected them approach, revealing a large room filled with individuals. Another Quermian and a pair of Felucians, they were nonetheless not what would draw the three occupants of Pod 1138's eyes; four massive cylinders stood at separate points of the room, with a privacy curtain draped around them, a rail allowing them to be clearly pulled close. A bench with the necessary silk undergarments were evident, where necessary, and the tops of the cylinders were crested with a track which would carry the cylinders into the Future Incandescence. Three cylinders were spread to their left, in-front of them and to their right, while a fourth was noted behind the middle one, slightly obscured from view.

    Xanten gestured to the base of each cylinder, which showed a keypad. "Personal items can be stored at the base of the Stasis Cylinder, with each of you, curiously, having had your passcode defined by your social security number. The Arithmetic has blessed you in that it has chosen the same piece of numerical data from your personal bio for each of you to use as your entry code."

    The stasis cylinders, with a puff of air, pulled themselves open, automatically. Xanten exchanged a sentence in his native language with the second Quermian, who was carrying an electric razor of sorts, and the Quermian presented it to Kallabecca and gestured for him towards the left-most cylinder. The Felucians muttered something in a hissing language, but fundamentally waved their diminuative arms and led Itolis towards his cylinder, the center one, and produced from its innards a brace with which to pin his wings down for the duration of the stasis.

    Xanten held a hand to Orison. "Your social security code I can provide," he said, reaching into a pocket on his robes and passing it to you. "You were assigned one for the purposes of the Arithmetic." He led her to the right-most cylinder, and drew the privacy curtain around them. He did not purposely lower his voice, but it was conspirational in tone as he leaned his long neck forward to look at the amulet. "How interesting. Aurodium, I can tell - a very valuable material, and one of three such materials which was presented to the Son in the Histories. Amulets of this design had messages within them, if one knew how to open them. But, at the same time, they are puzzles, which cannot easily be opened... and they also have another role, too, which the giver may personalise."

    The Quermian leaned back. "But it is not my place to tell you of that."

    As he spoke the latter words, the Force sang with darkness. It was a sensation that Orison, if she had any experience with the 'Demons' of her homeworld, would recognise. To Kallabecca, it would be ominous, a stirring in the Lifeforce that the Wookiee would only recognise from his encounters with the Rakata, all those decades ago.

    To Itolis, however, he would sense but one thing; that he had a bad feeling about this.

    And that was when the Taung walked into the room, from a door which materialised from the walls behind Orison's pod.
    ---
    Military embarkation chamber


    General Forlon Kya nodded. "Excellent. Just what we wanted to here, Kad'taab." He smiled, one full of teeth designed to impress, as he continued his charade. "Come, we must move quickly so that you are not missed from Orientation." He swung away, taking brisk steps through the doors as they whirred open at his gesture, his expression becoming a open one of him gritting his teeth at the situation as the droids followed behind the Taung.

    "You will have a small safe at the base of your stasis cylinder, which is keyed to your social security number. Though the dolts will tell you its all a matter of the Arithmetic choosing a piece of your personal data to decide your passcode, in-fact everyone has the same passcode. Yet another pointless security measure, but designed to ensure that nobody may crack your safes and will not try your number. I will announce that your passcode is your date of birth, aloud, for the purposes of the other non-humans in your Pod. The Quermian in charge of nonhuman orientation is a 'believer' in the Arithmetic, so he will believe such a blatant lie.

    "There is a privacy curtain for you to swap into the silk undergarments to be used for the journey, which create the minimal amount of friction and so forth." Forlon waved a hand in a circle, to demonstrate that he was repeating information that they both knew, as it was in Kad'taab's security briefing. They were suddenly walking towards a wall that did not seem to have doors within it; only a keen eye would notice the seam from which the doors swung open when Forlon waved a remote at the wall.

    Before them was a stasis cylinder, as noted, and to their left was three more, with their occupants in the stages of preparation for the journey, and hidden behind their privacy curtains if they had chosen to preserve their modesty, apart from Orison, who was hidden from view by Xanten already. Beside the Taung's cylinder was a long Felucian, grunting in alarm at the sudden arrival of the newcomers.

    "Welcome, Kad'taab, to your stasis cylinder," announced the General, almost too loudly. "Please redress in the silk undergarments provided. You are welcome to deposit your personal belongings in these safes. The passcode to your safe is your date of birth, in Standard Tionese Time. It is it not the case for other cylinders; a different personal detail, numerical in nature, is used each time."

    The General nodded to the others, paying them no heed, and spinning about to depart. The doors closed as silently as they had opened, but he had left a War Droid behind. It seemed as if the General may not have trusted all of them, at very least.

    Was there be tension in the room? Was it be palpable to Kad'taab?

    I, OBLIQUE, was not there, so I could not say. I am just going according to the script of events, as posited by the great Daritha.

    TAG: Mitth, Fisto, Trieste, splinterinthemindseyes_, Bardan_Jusik
    ---
    Saturday, 20 October 2012, 04:13am, United Kingdom

    Sinrebirth mused on how the players were reacting.

    In-game, everything was proceeding as expected, with intrigue being chosen for the most part by them over reacting, or not reacting. But the way they personified their posts was poetry for him to read.

    There some interesting choices in character creation and practice, particularly with spycoder and HanSolo29, who had swapped genders. Itolis and Mitth-Fisto had responded surprisingly well for a character that, until that post, was all mental creation - it already felt natural for Itolis to not speak. Kad'taab's mental posturings were a delight, and the others were all notable in their actions. While s65horsey had reacted by engaging with Xim the Despot, of all people, Claire had thrown out the Tara/Tazara issue into the wide world very early on - making both interesting characters to see interact, even in a limited fashion. Kahn and his hardened assassin had responded with enough derision in his tone to amuse, and Sinre was pleased that the dangers of melodrama around the Guildmaster had been picked up. Kallabecca remained a character Sinre was interested in seeing more of, particularly as there was a potential conflict between him and Itolis, if the latter's Rakatan origins were revealed.

    And, oh yes, delightful Orison also had a plethora of concepts revolving around her, and Sinre knew he would delight in drawing them out of the innocence of their Angel from Iego. He had deliberately drawn a reference from the Bible with the aurodium, but was keeping his cards very close to his chest when it came to that.

    He heaved a sigh that he was finished, because now the real game was about to start. Sleep had evaded him as he dwelt on his decisions. But he was far, far the point of no return. Swiftly, he opened a new page, and setup a conversation with the others. He had meticulously typed this up, and noted, as he copied and pasted his instructions over, a photo in the corner of his eye. It was his family, all beaming at him, and Sinre swiftly reached over and placed the frame on the desk, photo-down; he did not want them to be his witnesses when the only person who would be able to judge his actions now would be whatever deity he chose to believe in on the day.

    Conversation.

    Greetings to the Players of Dreaming in the Dark.

    Many of you I know from prior experience from the boards, and others I do not know so well. Some of you I may even have spoken to you offline, in other venues, or by other means of technology. Had Xan joined, I could even say I had met one or two of you. Sadly that is not the case.

    Well, it is not for now.

    I have recently won the Lottery here in England, which has made me the lucky owner of a great deal of money (your confidence in this respect would be appreciated). I have taken the liberty of booking a Hotel on the 1st December 2013 for us all to meet, and have a gaming session for when you all awake from stasis aboard the Future Incandescence. With no time zones to foil us, we can hammer out some good reactions to the events which will meet you all.

    Why a meet? Mainly because I have known many of you for some time, or would like to get to know you a bit more. I have painstakingly chose my players for this game, and enticed a few of you with baubles, having chosen my era so as to allow any and all to dabble.

    How? I have taken the liberty of setting aside a sum of funds to pay for your travel expenses, hotels and even sitters and maids as needed for all of you. I do not know or need to know your personal arrangements, but each of you will have a sum of half a million of your local currency to draw upon, some of which can certainly be used as spending money while here. Yes, I said half a million, but please resist the urge to spend it all. I have also prepared letters to your relevant places of work, which you can edit as necessary, requesting special dispensation in exchange for five million of your local currency, to cover the time period from the 1st December 2013 to the 7th December 2013. These letters, and details, are now within your respective email inboxes, or, the email inboxes you have attached to your accounts.

    For those of you in disbelief, there is a link in the said letter which I provide here.

    http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-19099777

    That is me.

    Yup.

    So, I would be grateful if you could please confirm that you are able to attend, and I shall begin sending to you tickets and travel details and so forth.

    Welcome to the Dream!

    He promptly sent the conversation, and the emails to their personal accounts, with attached information and details for the hotel in London, including a fairly neat website – even he had to admit that – and promptly sighed.

    This was a kind of poetry that Sinre could not quite so easily get behind – in-fact, his stomach was rolling and tying itself into knots. Tight knots. If he was to find freedom, he needed them to join.

    If they didn’t, they would not find freedom.

    He smiled softly, a smile that was put upon for his witness, for his judges, for his jury, and for his executioner.

    And so the true game began.

    TAG: @Kahn_Iceay, @Bardan_Jusik, @Mitth-Fisto, @s65horsey, @Trieste, @HanSolo29, @splinterinthemindseye_, @spycoder9, @SirakRomar

    True OOC: Remember, none of you can see each other’s OOCs, so you cannot make reference to them. You can, of course, see the Conversation responses. Carefully does it, or you’ll lose track of who you are ;) I will allow a few combined posts if you want to tie in some other RPFers to post off against and obtain their feedback (as I imagine your reaction would be to ask around for opinions), go for it. Any other RPFers you want to tie in for the OOC stuff, please contact me so I may approve. Any questions, open a line to me. Oh, and we may have to be a little more liberal with offline time ;)
  24. SirakRomar Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Mar 30, 2007
    star 4
    Tara/Tazara
    Spaceport

    Tazara had no problem with being naked. she had nothing on, when she had skinned her father . . . well, long story. Anyway, Tara was a bit more shy, but not too much. She did not care about any of this too much. It was like childhood, something to get behind you to get where you really should be.

    Taking the silk garments she looked at the three droids and smirked. Being cynical was not her strong side. Not HERS, really. But she could not help it. "Three warbots? Sure that are enough? Maybe you should get a division, just in case one of us turns out to hide an army under her robes." She mocked the nurse and pushed her personal belongings into the safe. Sleeping she did not need them and if she did not need them htey were better off there.

    Where she knew they were. The door she would get open somehow.

    Tag: Sinrebirth, s65hosey

    ooc: I make it a habit to do two posts, I have decided :p
    Bardan_Jusik likes this.
  25. s65horsey Otter-loving Former EUC Mod

    Member Since:
    Jun 24, 2006
    star 7
    IC: Vila
    Spaceport

    Her eyes lit up as Xim took her hand and she reveled in that smile, knowing she was probably seeing it for the last time.

    "It is such a shame that we do not have time to properly reacquaint ourselves, Vila..." His voice trailed off. "Though I am tempted to delay the launch of the Incandescence so we do!"

    She hoped her blush was not visible to all the onlookers. Thankfully Xim started going off about others things taking the attention away from her. "Then banter is all that shall be done." She replied to his suggestion that they didn't have the time. To be honest she was relieved. That was a chapter she'd closed on her life several years ago and while it had been fun, she didn't like to repeat things of the past. Another female approached them and their entourage as they were finishing up their conversation.

    "Hope they don´t make us share a pod, do they? Can I get frozen somewhere?" the female stated around a yawn.

    "Atypical Tara, delightful Tazara. Let us not delay you, my dear." Xim replied before Vila could say anything. A flash of jealousy coursed through her at him calling this new girl my dear, but she quickly quelled it. She'd always known that there was no way they could be together, not in this lifetime at least.

    Plastering a smile on her face, Vila smirked, "I don't know, sharing a pod could be fun..." she replied to Tara and raising an eyebrow suggestively.

    The crowd herded the trio towards the entrance to the pod. Vila took the time to gracefully look around and commit this experience to memory because for all she knew it could be her last. No one knew if this was going to work or not. She downed the last of the amber liquid in her glass and handed it off to someone on the side before entering pod 1138. At the top of the ramp she turned and waved at the crowd like her fake father had taught her and blew a kiss to Xim. As she turned back around the smile left her face and she walked towards her fate.

    "Welcome Vila, Tara to your stasis cylinders. Please redress in the silk undergarments provided so that I may trim you hair as necessary for the journey. You are welcome to deposit your personal belongings in these safes. The passcode to your safe is your social security number. It is it not the case for other cylinders; a different personal detail, numerical in nature, is used each time."

    Vila went behind the curtain and stripped out of her gorgeous dress. She carefully folded it up and slipped into the silk garments. She rubbed a hand across the garment, loving the feel of the luxurious fabric on her soft skin. A sigh escaped her lips as she grabbed her belongings and keyed in the code to the locker. She carefully set the dress down in the locker and ran her fingertips along the dolphin ring before placing it in the locker as well. It had been a long time since she hadn't worn the ring and her finger already felt like something was missing. She glanced at the picture of her family and murmured, "I hope you get everything you ask for now" before closing the locker.

    She turned to their attendant, "I'm ready."

    Tag: Sirak and Sinre

    OOC: Hmm I guess I'll check the boards while I sit in the car on the way to go pick apples, Sey thought to herself. She opened up the App on her phone and clicked over to the RPF. Ooo! A post from Sinre, excellent.

    Some time later.

    Umm..what? Well she sort of knew this was coming. In fact, a bigger what occurred when she saw his first post and his OOC. He'd lured her to this thread with the promise of possibly RPing a meet up between them and when she saw his first post occurring from his hometown she spent the next several days wondering how in the world he was going to get them together. This was phenomenal and she loved it.

    Even better, he was offering money to get there and money to her employer. Well...did that mean her brother? Technically no one paid her but she was also being supported by her brother at the moment in exchange for taking care of the kids. Money-wise her brother was making out on this deal. It cost him very little extra to feed me and I was flexible for when his work got busy and his wife had exams in her classes. Like this week...it had been a long week. She'd meant to get a post up days ago after they'd gone apple picking but the week had not gone as planned. The only good thing about this week was her ability to roll with the punches. A few months ago if she'd had a week like this, Sey would've been curled up in a ball crying somewhere. Instead, she laughed about a lot of the things such as the 4 year old crying because the 2 year old put his shirt in her mouth and when Sey asked her if that was worth crying over she replied "But he almost swallowed my shirt!"

    Not hardly, but everything is dramatic for a child and the 2 year old has figured out how to push her buttons.

    Erm..tangent...anyways, she wasn't sure how she was going to get a week off to travel to the UK. Was it possible to find someone to be a caretaker for a 2 year old for only a week? Maybe her mom will come out, she's retired now and could handle the kiddos for a week. There was definitely no way she was missing this. At least with the money he provided if they needed to pay someone or pay for a flight for her mom they'd be able to do that.

    Sey had been dreaming about meeting up with Sinrebirth for years. He'd been her first friend on the boards and always went out of his way to draw her out of her shell and hermit hole to be involved in things. He never judged her and frequently listened to her during some rough times in her life. She fondly remembered their phone conversations and really adored him.

    How soon was December coming? She couldn't wait.

    Tag: No One
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