Futuristic The Adventures of the Ulster and her Crew: Both Legal and Otherwise II

[ToteMaus]

Okay, so, some info to get you started with your CS. There are no aliens, first of all, and I don't know how I feel about androids or other synthetics, PM me if you really really want to be one and we can discuss it. Text descriptions of realistic pictures are preferred. Our crew will be a sort of band of rogues, so characters who are very rich or famous, or are currently in any organisations like militaries or corporations wouldn't make much sense in the story, think Firefly or Cowboy Bebop, misfits, rogues, etcetera.


Try to follow this template, but feel free to add more!


Name:


Age:


Sex:


Skills (ie. engineering, piloting, etc.):


Equipment (ie. any firearms, tools, or gadgets):


Background (feel free to make it long and detailed):


Physical Characteristics (height, weight, build, etc.):


Description or Picture:


Also, the RP will begin with the formation of a new crew for the Ulster, so you don't have to work that into your character background. By the way, colony worlds still have their planet's base gravity, so if you're from Mars, you'll be adapted to the surface gravity, about one third that of Earth, and thus be weaker physically than humans from high gravity worlds. In extreme cases, this might involves canes/crutches/other means of assisted movement when on higher gravity worlds.


Now, before you go any further, head on over to the overview tab to read the rules carefully. Second, you'll want to look over the lore when you make your character.

 

[Death Reaper]

is this rp open

 

[ToteMaus]

Why, yes it is!

 

[Industrial Waste]

Name: Margaret 'Mar' Shaw


Age: 33


Sex: Female


Skills: Engineering (mechanical, electrical, electronic), EVA, H2H combat (boxing), basic weapons training.


Equipment: Customised EVA hardsuit (servomechanisms for high grav work, additional gold plating for prolonged EVA, left wrist-mounted diagnostic/hacking tool/computer, right wrist-mounted ark welder), various tools (multitool, Stillsons, adjustable spanner, etc.)


Background: Born in megacity London into a family of literature professor and architect, Mar was abandoned by her purist parents for having situs inversus (a congenital condition that causes organs to be mirrored from their normal position). Never aware of her apparent freakiness, Mar grew up in a homeless community, relying on her wits and general scrappiness to survive. As she turned 16, her wanderlust drove her to join RAF to be trained as a mechanic. Life in a military disciplined her a little, yet it was never enough to erase her rash and flamey attitude. At 22, her initial contract ended and three years running RAF Brize Norton boxing champion and skilled specialist Chief Technician Shaw turned her eyes to space. After eleven years of hopping jobs from servicing mining rigs on Mars and surface walkers on Venus to ice mining on Titan and comm array maintenance in the rest of Outer Sol with some occasional work on salvage vessels in Sol asteroid belt, Margaret received word from her old RAF mates about a freelance crew being raised up back on Earth. Longing for the companionship and camaraderie the military used to provide, she finally returns her gaze to Earth.


Physical characteristics;


Height: 178cm (5'10")


Weight: 63kg (138lbs)


Build: Athletic


Description: After spending years in space/low-g worlds, Mar lost some of her impressive boxer muscle mass. Her frame is now more agile than buff, which only helps her navigating cramped crawlspaces of commercial vessels. Her short raven hair is fashioned into a wide greased back mohawk, leaving the back of her head and temples shaved. Her facial features are rather elegant and somewhat posh. She has a tattoo under her clavicle - Chf. Tech. AB+.. About ten cm lower than that (where her heart should be), there is a small scar from a puncture wound with burned edges, approx. 1.5cm in diameter. She is never seen outside of her her quarters/crawlspaces without her hardsuit, precisely attuned and adapted to her form and style over the years. It looks a bit worn-out and of dirty dark yellow colour. Breastplate is decorated with intricate floral design (red roses and wines mostly). 'Shaw' is spray painted in generic white stencil font on the back of the suit. Outside of that, she can be seen wearing a rather generic orange jumpsuit, rolled down to her waist, she is usually covered with straps of tool harnesses, belts, torch lights mounts, etc. She can often be seen with an e-cigarette.


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_01/57a8c6ff653af_img62369365311899178911.jpg.004dddfe6e9557bd26ed8941c5e6b7b9.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="98156" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_01/57a8c6ff653af_img62369365311899178911.jpg.004dddfe6e9557bd26ed8941c5e6b7b9.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

 

[GreenEyedStranger]

(Hope you dont mind if I use the same character)


Name: Humbled Servant (Keeps real name a secret)


Age: Unknown, presumably mid-late years


Sex: Unknown


Skills (ie. engineering, piloting, etc.): Medicine, Surgeon, Religious congregation


Equipment (ie. any firearms, tools, or gadgets): Tome, Sacred Chimes, Medical supply bag, bone saw


Background (feel free to make it long and detailed): Born in the colony world of Ceres, the Servant had little promise of a future in the stars, despite his dream of one day visiting the sun. During a civil uprising, the colony was cut off from its mother nation and left to its own resources and under the guard of pirates. The people quickly began to panic, leading to countless acts of violence and terror. Through it all, The Servant watches in his home until a cult rose from the ashes of the war. The cults teachings were dedicated to the humbling of mankind in the infinite universe and believed in the all powerful Great One, an extradimensional being capable of immense power. The Servant fit perfectly in it, relishing in the idea of interstellar congregation. He acquired a catalogue of medical skills while serving the church throughout the years, caring for refugees and war victims. However, as the Pirates grew more tenacious they began to set their sights on the civilians. Eventually the church was looted and all its high members were killed. Distraught, and now living on his own, The Humble Servant took the next smuggler shuttle off the planet while keeping the relics of his cult. There was nothing left for his religion here, maybe somewhere in the stars he could find his Heavenly Father.


Physical Characteristics (height, weight, build, etc.):


Roughly 6'2"


Almost inhumanly slender, constantly goes on fasts to further humble himself


No notable physical strength


Androgynous voice, nearly flat chest. No way to discern gender


Description or Picture:


Always wears a black robe lined with pictures and descriptions. Despite it's intimidating appearance, she insists it serves to make herself obscure and unnoticeable; another way to humble herself.


Also always wears a featureless facemask. Could be mistaken for a piece of metal with two eyeholes.

 

[Wood]

Name:


Frances McKee


Age:


25


Sex:


Female


Skills:


Frances was known in her farming village and by the UCSA for being a natural Deadeye, but she pays her bills with her skill as a Pilot. When she's not flying a job, Frances spends her time in the floating colonies of Venus performing for tourists as a Musician.


Equipment:


Frances carries a folded child's drawing of the Sol system in her back pocket. While she would rather not have to, Frances has a small pistol strapped to her thigh in case of emergency. Often strapped to her back is her most prized possession, an antique Violin; She'll proudly tell you it's constructed of Martian wood, if you ask.





Background:


Born under the yellow sky with Hellas City on the horizon, Frances is a proud Martian. Her village, Tulume, was fairly well maintained and even somewhat prosperous due to it's vicinity to the Martian capital. Travelers would occasionally visit Tulume for a change from the Urban lifestyle, and from them Frances would hear stories of the City. Frances was enthralled at the idea of the bustling city streets, the lush gardens by day and the intoxicating red lights and music of the night.


Prosperity, however, has an unfortunate way of attracting attention. Tulume was a desirable target for Migrants, posher than most of the poor villages but lacking the luxury of security. It was up to the local militia, the Minutemen to defend Tulume from being raided. Most of the Minutemen were farmers, simple citizens of Tulume. They were simply citizens who took the burden of Tulume's safety onto themselves in exchange for a gun and a salary.


Frances had no intention of becoming a Minuteman, but her family wasn't wealthy enough to send her to school in Hellas and she wasn't nearly strong enough to work in the fields. What she lacked in strength, she made up for in remarkably steady hands and natural dexterity; It was Frances who manned the Crow's nest with a sniper rifle twice her weight. She spent nearly every night from the age of 12 to 18 scanning the Martian plains for Migrants, often pausing to stare at the lights of Hellas city and the stars above it. She always dreaded pulling the trigger. She would close her eyes, at first. Eventually, she would watch.


On the night of her 18th birthday, Frances departed her village. Her wanderlust had reached critical levels. As she was transported lazily crossed the Martian landscape, Frances was awe struck at the world she had only seen through a Sniper's scope. This girl, who was so amazed by a bus ride nearly lost control at entering Hellas. She wept at the sight of the gardens, and lived well for a little while.


As it tends to do, after a few months her money had nearly all but left her. She had sampled much of the fine culture of Hellas, but had not taken care of the essentials; Rent, specifically. Homelessness was a strange experience for Frances, but she was determined not to return to Tulume. With no other options, Frances signed onto a freelance crew, aptly named "Blaster." For four years, Frances roamed the solar system doing jobs for Corporations and governments alike- Escorting caravans, Bounties on Pirate vessels, smuggling mysterious cargo. She existed in between different shades of gray in terms of legality, but had the luxury of being left alone for the most part in exchange for her and her crew's services. It was aboard the "Blaster" that Frances cut her chops as a Pilot, eventually earning official UCSA certification.


Satisfied with her career as a mercenary, Frances decided to settle down and live amongst the clouds on Venus. She made a small salary playing violin in bars, but her wallet began to feel light and she began to miss the stars.


Physical Characteristics:


Between her Scottish ancestry and the Martian atmosphere, Frances had no chance of growing tall. At 16, she stopped growing at the titanic height of 5'3 and 98 pounds. Her build is overly petit, sometimes described as scrawny.


Description:


Frances is remarkably pale due to the long periods of darkness on Venus and her ancestry. She has dark red hair down to her shoulders, fastened behind her ears into a loose ponytail when she flies. Her eyes are a light shade of green. She dresses in a fairly boring manner, usually wears layers of pants and tops in order to make her scrawniness more subtle.


]

Spoiler

Girl lives in Martian village, serves in local militia until she leaves for Hellas. Runs out of money, signs up onto Mercenary vessel, learns how to fly. Good at shooting things, flying spaceships and playing violin.


(I'm such a rambler >_< I cut it down a fair bit, I know you guys have lives and things c-

 

[ToteMaus]

Excellent! All three look awesome. (And don't worry, I'm a ranter too. I actually had a great time reading your full character bio.) Welcome aboard. Another thing, this is just a guideline, but we should have a variety of professions on the crew. Preferred crew composition would be: two pilots (I will be playing one, as the captain. She won't be very involved in the action, but will serve as more of a guiding force to keep the story going.), one engineer, one computer specialist, one medic, one sneaky person, and one soldier-like person.

 

[DJGomez]

(Same char as before so I hope you don't mind)


Name:Joshua Caine


Age:26


Sex:Male


Skills (ie. engineering, piloting, etc.): Military Trained, Navigation, Communications, Hand to Hand combat, throwing knives


Equipment (ie. any firearms, tools, or gadgets): Pair of old Colt 1911's in hip holsters her carries on him at all times. They are aptly named "Mustang and Sally" as it's inscribed on the pearl handles. A set of throwing knives on his belt.


Background (feel free to make it long and detailed): Not much is known about Caine if anything. Most don't even know his name and he prefers to keep it that way. He's a wanderer just trying to make his way in life. He's stayed off the grid since he was about 16, traveling the galaxy to the farthest reaches any ship could go, going from ship to ship, and working for any mining company or Mercenary organization that would take him. His has a very shady past as he never stays in one place for too long. His time with several mercenary companies taught him all of his combat skills as he is a deadeye with his old Colt 1911's that he picked up from someone who didn't need them anymore. While traveling space he learned Navigation and communications at the age of 16 His day generally includes tagging along on ships without the crew knowing or not asking any questions as he works on the ship to earn his keep and a little coin before getting off at the first starport or colony where he spends his money drinking and maybe spending the night with a nice women before starting over again and either finding a new ship to tag along on or finding a mining or mercenary company that will take him no questions asked.


Physical Characteristics (height, weight, build, etc.): 6'1 / 185 lbs. / Mesomorphic build / Short Brown Hair / Striking green eyes / 5 o'clock shadow


Description or Picture:

 

[Kaz]

Name: Val Kalen


Age: 24


Sex: Male


Skills : Medicine/Combat Medicine.


Equipment : Med bag, wrist mounted drug dispenser/injector, 10mm handgun lovingly named "Preventive Medicine".


Background (feel free to make it long and detailed):


Originally from Mars, Val had a childhood of little note; his parents working most of the time and with no siblings to speak of, he usually kept to himself. It was his Uncle that piqued his interest in the practice and study of medicine, allowing young Val to help in his uncle's practice.


It wasn't until Val was eighteen did he express any interest in actually leaving his home. That was, however, the same time his mother caught ill and eventually began a slow descent into madness. Unable to help his mother (much to the ire of his father) Val left home, joining the Military.


Still - the thought of being unable to help anyone in need is something that haunts him each time it happens. He doesn't like to talk about his time in service, of the things he's witnessed, people he's lost. No, he prefers to keep that baggage locked away deep down inside. After his time in service, Val was at a loss of what to do with himself; he'd drifted as a med tech on a plethora of ships. It wasn't until he saw the possibilities of some...less than reputable people that he decided to try his hand at piracy.


Due to a complication with his lungs, (an accident involving the mines back home) Val is rarely seen without his gas mask on. It doesn't bother him much, however, he would much rather people focus on the task at hand than his facial expressions and mood. He enjoys working with people towards a common goal and is willing to help in any way possible.


Physical Characteristics (height, weight, build, etc.): 5'6, 160, a little on the stocky side, but athletic enough to perform under the stress of combat and other related situations.


Description or Picture:


<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_01/Death_Korps_of_Krieg_Medic.jpg.4ca0848d138ca381016ee110e3738e12.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="98527" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_01/Death_Korps_of_Krieg_Medic.jpg.4ca0848d138ca381016ee110e3738e12.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>


In the rare times he's without a gas mask, Val sports a set of plain brown eyes, brown hair and scarring from the accident. He's a bit shorter than most his age, only being around 5'6, that suits him fine however. The only keepsake worth mentioning is a small necklace he wears; silver with a small chunk of tin in the center, a gift from his mother when he was only ten years old.

 

[JDParadox]

Name: Jensen Slantz


Age: 26


Sex: Male


Skills: Security ( both the physical and digital kinds), Negotiations, Deception, Barter, Stealth, Basic combat experience.


Equipment: MSI semi-auto pistol, a set of lockpicks, a modified PDA that allows him to remotely interface with most common security systems.


Background: Jensen Slantz was born on a little station on the edge of the world, inhabited by mostly criminals and lowlifes called Ceres. His father, whom he took after, was a retired smuggler, whose former career had cost him literally arm and leg (not to mention the cost of replacement prosthetics); his mother had died during childbirth. They survived on the generosity of his father's former employer, a prominent crime boss and pirate on Ceres, with the condition that Jensen, would grow up to be one of his grunts. For a kid born on Ceres, there weren't that many better job offers.


But reality liked to surprise you. His first real run was at 21. His crew had just hijacked the creatively named "Mule", a civilian ice hauler coming out of Ganymede thanks to a clever deception and a little creativity from yours truly. It was when they torched down the airlock and came in guns blazing that Jensen finally felt the tug of that stupid thing they call a conscience. Innocent men and women, killed because, what? Why not? The needless slaughter and the joy his fellow crewmen took in it grew to weigh heavily on his mind. 2 years later his father passed away from a plague on the station. With nothing left to keep him, Jensen disabled the pirates' security systems, locked them on their own ship and ran. It was on an ice hauler that he left Ceres, a twist of fate he never quite understood.


For the next 3 years Jensen roamed the inner planets, working odd jobs here and there, some of them legal, most others not so much. He took to drinking to dull the regrets, always kept moving in case his past ever caught up to him. Three years is a long time, but some grudges can last for so much longer. No such thing as being too careful


Physical Characteristics: Tall and lanky like any born stationer, he stands at 6'2 and weighs 157 lbs.


Description: Gruff and weathered, though he had tried, the marks of a Ceres native are hard to cover up. His dark hair is closely shaved, all but for a mohawk and a rough patch of beard as is the way he has always styled it. HIs eyes are a cool stormy grey, always seeming to be in deep thoughts, or scheming, depends on how you look at it. He is rarely seen without his leather jacket (actual, real, non-synthetic leather, of course), or a matter of fact, his flask of alcohol.

 

[ToteMaus]

@DJGomez , @JDParadox , looks good! Great having you too back on board. And I can't wait to see your finished CS @Kaz !

 

[Tarmagon]

Name: Marya Reynolds


Age: 31


Sex: Female


Skills: Fusion/power technician, excellent hand to hand skills, sniper training (Which she will deny and refuses to use under any circumstances.)


Equipment: Tool belt hung about with various probes, diagnostic units, adjustment devices, and access tools. She usually carries a BFW (Big F-in Wrench) strapped to her back. Her gloves, which she is almost never without, have stun strips built into the knuckles.


Background: Marya is a child of The United Americas, being born in a nameless little town near the center of what used to be the U.S. Somewhere there might be a record of where she comes from, but Marya neither knows or cares. What she does know is that she had to fend for herself almost from the time she could walk. Her parents were, to put it kindly, anarchists, who longed for the days of the old United States and the ruin of the meganations and megacorps. Marya was taught how to fight, then told that anything she wanted or needed, she would have to fight for. She managed to survive for twelve years before being captured in the act of robbing a supply depot. Once her dna entered the system, she was charged with multiple break-ins, thefts, and assaults. Only the fact that she had never seriously injured anyone kept Marya out of the adult system. Instead she was given a choice, enter the legal system and take her chances, or be sent to a special boot camp for 'troubled' children. If she graduated the boot camp, she would be sent into the military for a four year service, after which her records would be expunged. Marya chose to go to boot camp.


Her time in the camp was, different. Food was provided, shelter was provided, and most importantly, education was provided. Fighting was only allowed under close supervision of the camps wardens, and anyone caught breaking the camps rules went away, never to be heard from again. Marya obeyed the rules, learned what she was given to learn, and on her eighteenth birthday, was shipped off to basic training. The physical demands of her training meant nothing to Marya, she was used to living hard and working harder to survive. She excelled at hand to hand combat, and surprisingly turned out to be an excellent shot with a rifle, though she could barely qualify with any handgun. Due to the increasing military presence in space, Marya was put through basic shipboard orientation and vacuum suit training, as well as emergency procedures. Her class had just returned from their final orbital training when disaster struck. As the shuttle carrying her squad touched down, a huge explosion rocked the spaceport, throwing the shuttle onto its side. Marya and most of her squad-mates clambered out, only to be met with a barrage of heavy weapons fire. An anarchist group had decided to strike at the military and industrial megacorps all at once, and they had caught the defenders flat footed, inflicting massive casualties on the spaceport's guards and personnel and bombing several of the launch cradles. Marya's squad set up a hasty defense around the remains of their shuttle, and managed to hold several waves of attackers at bay, though they lost six of the twelve survivors of the shuttle collapse. Marya had taken up an over watch position, climbing up the twisted remains of the cradle gantry, and covering her squad-mates as best she could with the light rifle she had salvaged from the twisted remains of their gear, so she was first to see the reinforcements arrive and begin to drive away the attackers. Just as she was about to descend from her perch, she spotted a large truck barreling towards her squad's position. Settling her sights onto the driver she saw the face of her only friend from her grueling childhood. Arty Barret, the only person to ever show her any kindness, stared straight ahead with eyes gone mad with hate. Marya's bullet hit him square in the forehead, but the truck crashed into her squad's position, and exploded, killing all but two of the winnowed squad. The after action report and the two survivors painted Marya as a hero, but all she could remember was Arty's head exploding, just before the truck did.


Surprisingly the powers that be were compassionate, and allowed Marya to retrain as a technical specialist dealing with spaceship propulsion, a non-combat role. After her mandated four years were up, Marya elected to remain in the military for another couple of years, learning all she could before finally resigning and going to work with Iphigenia Shipyards as a fusion plant technician. When Iphigenia went under, she was picked up by Arcadia Industries, though her career there was marred by disagreements with her supervisors about the quality of the ships they were producing for the UCSA. After a spectacular failure in a corvettes drive system resulted in the loss of the ship and its entire crew, Marya left Arcadia, and began her search for, something.


Physical Characteristics: Marya stands 5' 8" and masses 140 lbs, all of it muscle. Her frame is average, neither slender or wide.


Description or Picture: <p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_01/Marya.jpg.76f77bbef4daac916b49bd12a743e510.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="99739" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2016_01/Marya.jpg.76f77bbef4daac916b49bd12a743e510.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>

 

[ToteMaus]

Great! I'll give you and @Kaz some time to finish up your character sheets before we start.

 

[Kaz]

I'm sorry! I've been a little busy atm. I'll have my CS done by tonight! Again, I apologize.

 

[Tarmagon]

And done.

 

[Kaz]

Done as well.

 

[ToteMaus]

Awesome! Great to have you two. We will be able to start... probably some time tomorrow, if all goes well.

 

[DJGomez]

We good to start?

 

[ToteMaus]

Yes, I am working on typing our introductory post that will get everything started. Though I've just had a big abstract-algebra assignment given to me, so I may not have it ready until tomorrow. Tomorrow afternoon we will definitely start, if not tonight.

 

[ToteMaus]

And now for the character that I will be playing to guide the story towards what I have planned.


Name: Cecilia Tanner


Age: 32


Sex: Female


Skills: Piloting, navigation, basic engineering, basic gunslinging


Equipment: A refurbished Sig Sauer P220 that she keeps in a leather hip holster.


Background: Cecilia was born on Ishtar Terra, one of the floating tower cities on Venus. Her father was an important lawyer, and her mother was an accountant for one of the corporations that had established themselves on Venus. Soon after Cecilia's birth, her mother retired so that she could spend all her time with Cecilia and her older brother. Cecilia was a rather difficult child, mainly owing to her unconquerable urge to explore. To her, the swirling masses of yellow and orange clouds of her homeworld beckoned to be probed for all the secrets they might hold. Her parents insisted that she receive a college education, despite her desire to go out and see the universe. After a four year education in astrophysics that she thoroughly hated, she joined a surface prospecting team. She spent five years working daily on the harsh surface, scanning the planet for ore. When she was twenty eight, her everlasting itch to explore all things unknown made her bored of the surface. She took a job as a cargo hand on one of the giant rigid airships that plied the yellow skies of Venus, moving goods from city to city. Eventually, even the beautiful skies of Venus proved too small for her, and she signed aboard the crew of the SS Argent Arrow as a navigator. She did cargo runs, even delved into smuggling a few times. She would do anything so long as it brought her to something interesting she had never seen before. Eventually, she ended up on a certain earth spacedock in need of a new ship to work on.


Physical Characteristics:


Height: 5'7"


Weight: 127 lbs on Earth (115 lbs on Venus)


Build: She has a rather skinny and lithe body, which helps with navigating the cramped quarters of the various vessels she has served on. This, her somewhat below average height, and her fairly flat chest give her overall figure a somewhat boyish look.


Description or Picture: She is very pale, since she spends most of her time on space ships or stations, so gets very little sunlight. Her features are rounded and soft, with a gently curving jawline and a somewhat weak chin. She has a small, slightly upturned and flat nose. Her lips are fairly average, with a very slight cupid's bow. Cecilia's ears are quite narrow, and her lobes are small and almost, but not quite, attached. Her almond shaped eyes are a deep blue, the colour of Earth's oceans as seen from space. Her hair is a dark shade of burnt umber, and is very clean and soft, at least, it would be soft and silky if she didn't usually keep it shaved or close cropped, which she does for convenience in microgravity.

 

[Wood]

You know we're started, right? Guys?


join us... join us.... join (cough) us....

 

[Tarmagon]

Yup, just waiting for @ToteMaus to answer a technical question before I write my post.