STAR ORPHANS
A Fantasy Space Opera Roleplay
"It is madness for sheep to talk peace with a wolf."
— Thomas Fuller
"We're taking off in five minutes!"
< Introduction >
The voice from the loud speaker is Captain Angela Abetchi of the Delilah S27 Frigate, and she's set to blast off of Belltown spaceport - with or without you. This floating installation orbits over an uninhabited dwarf star, the last rendezvous point for anyone wanting to leave this galaxy for good. Not just anyone, mind you. Every candidate has been vetted through the appropriate channels, screened and background checked by the Captain's very own Cybermancer, and most importantly, possesses some form of payment worth their seat on her ship. I'll give you some advice: Don't try to haggle her. The last bloke that attempted to renegotiate his traveling fees is now floating somewhere in the Verge system. Just make yourself useful around the ship and she'll respect you for it. I can't guarantee your safety. Hell, in this Toolie-ran galaxy, nobody can, but I can tell you one thing with absolute certainty. Wherever she's taking you is going to be much better than staying here. Trust me.
The Rundown
< Information >
The Ignatius Galaxy - After the Toliath Insurgency...
An interstellar war has ravaged the cosmos, herding systems under one rulership. Gone are the days of free space faring travel and exploration. In its place are trade routes and commercial fairways that run like a meticulous network of cogs. Planets of luxury, discovery, and free tourism are now under heavy scrutiny as all cognizant (and completely unaware) beings are subjugated to a life of servitude...
"Fuck that noise." Captain Abetchi screamed into the intercom. "You're all that's left of whatever backwater mud ball your mother shat you on. I'd reckon a life of getting scraped around by Toolie dickheads aren't in the cards for you lot, lest you wouldn't be stinking up my stowaway compartments. But hey, if you're having second thoughts, please feel free to let me know. I'll be sure to hand your sorry asses over to the next Toolie outpost. I'm sure they'll give you a warm welcome - in and all around every gaping orifice that's festering all over your cowardly hides! Gives more room on paradise planet for the rest of us anyways!"
That's right: Paradise planet. At this point it feels more like a running gag among fleeting refugees, but space travelers with some actual kilometers in their experience-o-meter say it's the real deal. There are star maps littered across the galaxy, made to be pieced together like some god damned scavenger hunt. No one even knows if they actually lead you to the fabled safe haven everyone's gushing about, but at this point, people will do just about anything to escape Toolie sovereign...
An interstellar war has ravaged the cosmos, herding systems under one rulership. Gone are the days of free space faring travel and exploration. In its place are trade routes and commercial fairways that run like a meticulous network of cogs. Planets of luxury, discovery, and free tourism are now under heavy scrutiny as all cognizant (and completely unaware) beings are subjugated to a life of servitude...
"Fuck that noise." Captain Abetchi screamed into the intercom. "You're all that's left of whatever backwater mud ball your mother shat you on. I'd reckon a life of getting scraped around by Toolie dickheads aren't in the cards for you lot, lest you wouldn't be stinking up my stowaway compartments. But hey, if you're having second thoughts, please feel free to let me know. I'll be sure to hand your sorry asses over to the next Toolie outpost. I'm sure they'll give you a warm welcome - in and all around every gaping orifice that's festering all over your cowardly hides! Gives more room on paradise planet for the rest of us anyways!"
That's right: Paradise planet. At this point it feels more like a running gag among fleeting refugees, but space travelers with some actual kilometers in their experience-o-meter say it's the real deal. There are star maps littered across the galaxy, made to be pieced together like some god damned scavenger hunt. No one even knows if they actually lead you to the fabled safe haven everyone's gushing about, but at this point, people will do just about anything to escape Toolie sovereign...
T L ; D R
We'd be survivors and escapees from the galactic insurgency of the Toliath Federation (Toolies) that have stowed away on Captain Abetchi's ship. She's not doing all of this out of the kindness of her heart, mind you. In return for safe passage, you've either traded off something of serious value, and/or swore into her cadre as a permanent crew member. Regardless as to how you got your ticket punched, buckle up, because you're in for a shitstorm of a ride. We will be starting out in the inner rim of the galaxy, as we've just blasted off from Belltown Spaceport.< Rules >
- I think quality over quantity is in order. I'm not expecting paragraphs upon paragraphs of detail (though that is allowed and welcomed). I prefer you to include an interactive action of some sort that will allow myself or other RPers to respond.
- Violence, gore and profanity.This roleplay is set in a very bleak environment and so there will be all sorts of themes that will be allowed to explore here - so long as they aren't done needlessly and without purpose. Please also be aware of this site's rules and guidelines regarding this issue.
- No godmodding, metagaming, and autohitting. Also, this is important: Please be civil in OOC. I can't stand it when people are douchebags to each other for reasons that could be easily cleared up with proper communication. Please discuss any problems in PM and/or with me and we can work something out.
