Aleranicus

Dreamers and Destroyers ~ A Sci-Fi Mecha School RP

The Setting

is Centares Academy. It's the jewel of the Royal Gryphon System, a solar system with 4 planets, two of them inhabited. It is every parent's dream from the Asteroid mines in the Outer Belt to the core cities of Gryphon itself that their child will be selected to attend the prestigious Youth Sciences School. After all, mechanical and medical discoveries from its fabled halls are used from Terra all the way to the Outer Colonies. There's even been talk of an "Alien Embassy" opening up from the Ghola species.

The Story

begins on thesis day, the day when Centares Students are supposed to show off the projects they've worked on for the past year. As they're preparing to show off their projects, the Outer Alliance of Planets stages a surprise attack on the planet Gryphon. It's Pearl Harbor meets D-Day as everyone scrambles to figure out how the OA managed to get past the system's defense networks and what to do next- defend the Academy? Flee to safety? Take the fight to the OA? There is an antagonist, an enemy scheme, and an ending to this story. How (or if) the players go about resolving it will be entirely up to them.

Inspiration is taken from

- Three parts Valkyria Chronicles 2
- One part Gundam SEED

The Characters

are students of the Centares Academy. Whether their research is in medical studies or technical engineering, their yearly thesis projects were directed toward Exo-suit research by the Gryphon Royal Military.

Their Exo-suits

are expected to be no larger than 5 meters in height (think Iron Man suit on up to Hulkbuster). Weapons are to be of an improvised nature or highly experimental. To introduce a level of chance, I'd ask that players roll a D6 whenever they use such experimental items, writing in bold their actions and posting the number they rolled in (parenthesis) right after. On a 6, they achieve a monumental success. 3-5 is what they intended. 2 is a failure. 1 is a Catastrophic failure that should have very unpleasant consequences. This will work on the honor system but will be faster than waiting for a DM to write out the consequences, halting the RP in its progress.

Why you would LIKE to play
- You enjoy Sci-Fi battlesuit/mecha genres and want to take a crack at writing in such a story.
- You like writing in an RP with a defined storyline rather than a nebulous blob of post-counterpost.
- You think this whole thing could be awesome.

Why you would NOT LIKE to play
- The amount of action/combat is dictated by the players choices. If the group goes into hiding, I will not force conflict unless/until such a time the plot requires.
- Just not that into Sci-Fi.

Star Wars - Legends of the Old Republic

"Gimme one job- just one job, Lumos! I swear I'm good for it!"

Lumos, the one-eyed Rodian dealer, gave Horis an up and down glance with his one good eye, and promptly laughed. His beak bobbed up and down and a few droplets of liquor sprayed out of his snout onto the smuggler's dark jacket, the rolls of fat beneath his shirt wobbling as he kicked back in his chair. The Rodian was grotesquely fat and, if not for his face, could've been mistaken for a young Hutt in the right lighting. Horis edged out of the way, sliding his chair so most of the liquid ended up going over the railing of the cantina, probably falling on the head of some poor peasant a dozen floors below them. The interior of Lumos' favorite watering hole was a dank and smelly, cramped place with poor music and worse service. The balcony at least gave them "fresh air" from the city and a place to speak where they could be heard.

Horis was not so amused by Lumos' laughter, but the confusion on his face made it apparent he would need an explanation from the Rodian.

~Stupid human! You think I just keep contraband lying on the side for someone to pick up and move for me?~

Horis rolled his eyes at Lumos, raising his gloved hands toward the vertical city stretching above them.

"Lumos, this is Nar Shadaa! Everyone has contraband to sell- from the politicians down to the mynocks!"

The Rodian chuckled, wiped the liquor droplets from his snout and settled back into his chair.

~Maybe so, but I've got nothing worth moving at this time, friend. Not until the price of certain goods goes up dramatically. War was good for business. Now there are too many smugglers to pick from and not enough buyers.~

"Lumos- Lumos we go back. Way back."

~Too true.~

"Remember Hapes? And Alderaan? I ran spice into the squeakiest clean planets this side of the galaxy and got you a full count. Didn't cheat you out of a credit."

~I also remember the ship I loaned you for those runs,~ Lumos snarled. ~The one you took to Coruscant without consulting me.~

"The one I paid you back for with the money I made on that run. I knew you'd say no to all that money but I still made you a profit when I could've got you cut out!"

~AND NOW LOOK WHERE THAT'S GOT YOU!~ Lumos stirred his beverage, turned his one good eye to the skyline, and heaved a sigh.

~Horis, my boy. You've got talent but no check on your arrogance. I know it's not greed because you could've left me high and dry after the Dwarf was destroyed. But that red ship you bought is Republic Military. There is no way to reconfigure it to show up as anything else on sensors. You will draw attention to everything you do. Every Sith will shoot at you on sight and every Republic cruiser will demand you heave-to until the paperwork for ownership clears. So no, I will not help you.~

Lumos waved at a droid hovering through the air with a platter of drinks, calling for the bill.

~Is there nothing else?~

Horis shook his head, tacking off another contact from his list of old business associates- a list that was growing shorter with every passing day. His ship's fuel tank was as empty as his cargo bay, and pretty soon he wouldn't have any credits to pay the docking fees.

"Nothing," Horis said, standing from the seat. He didn't offer so much as a goodbye on his way out, which was just fine with Lumos as another smuggler approached to see the old boss.

Horis thumbed the datadrive in his jacket pocket, casually sauntering through the crowded interior of the bar, trying his best to keep a low profile while headed out, back to the docking station where his Defender Corvette was parked...

Enslaved Salvation(Werewolf RP)

*Waves*

I'm still lurking in the background! Just waiting to look at what the IC and storyline will look like before I make the CS.

Star Wars - Legends of the Old Republic

Sounds cool boss!

*Crosses fingers and hopes for an Opening Scroll*

The Wolves of Red Lake: Season One ((Main Cast Currently Recruiting Secondary Cast Open aswell!))

Hi @Nallore! Can you provide a cliff's notes on where things stand for anyone interested in the opening post?

I love a good werewolf RP but I'm afraid I don't have time to read all 177 posts today :(

Enslaved Salvation(Werewolf RP)

Tentatively interested. Will look forward to reading more in the OOC!

Last march of the Dwarves

Interested!

Mikah Goring, Captain of the Landless

Appearance: *Coming Soon*

Name: Mikah "Most Landless" Goring

Age: 36

Titles/Alias: Captain, "Lord Landless"

Race: Human

Rank: Mercenary Captain of the Landless Company

Weapon(s): Pike, Crossbow (Standard for all Landless)

Personality: Mikah Goring's blunt, sensible nature and distrust for politicking owe to his roots as a peasant farmer in the Darkwood. King Oslan's grip on the densely wooded frontier has been tenuous at best, which is nothing new- the Human Lordlings in the Darkwood have always sworn fealty to the King but their incessant bickering has left the Common Folk disillusioned and unwilling to engage in backroom deal making. And in the Darkwood, a man's word is his life- any breach of trust sees one ostracized. Mikah follows this path and tends to be of few words, honest, and fair.

Bio: Mikah Goring was raised in the Darkwood between two of the many Wars of Succession fought by the Nobility there. His life followed the path of many of the peasant folk- he grew up as a hunter to learn how to survive in the wild, then began working the family farm. The last war in the Darkwood, the War of the Thorns and Griffen, came after he had turned thirty. Lord Greysham, the noble to whom Micah's family owed fealty, refused to take a side in the conflict or mobilize his own troops for fear of prompting an invasion, ensuring Mikah's farm and village would soon be plundered by marauding soldiers in search of supplies.

The village Elderman, rather than waiting patiently for this to happen, called up a militia to defend the town from both sides. This act of defiance against Greysham went unnoticed at first, but the word quickly spread to other towns and holdfasts. The resulting force soon grew from a few dozen to almost half a thousand strong within a month, and Lord Greysham grew increasingly nervous when the company repelled a battalion of Lord Thorn's men.

Greysham quickly sent his own soldiers to put down the "uprising" but he was shocked when the soldiers turned away rather than attack the peasants. Their numbers nearly doubled and now in possession of quality arms and troops, the Elderman decided not to press on and attack Greysham, instead demanding a Writ of Release from their obligations to the Lord, a document Greysham quickly signed on the condition the peasants left his lands quickly.

Mikah packed up his belongings with the company, now calling themselves The Landless, and has marched south with them ever since. Once a thousand strong, the mercenaries have been bled dry first from battles, then from desertion as the peasants found more peaceful and stable lands to settle.

With the passing of the Elderman, Micah was voted to become Captain of the Landless. The company, now less than a hundred strong, has agreed to sign a contract with the Dwarven kings to lend their pikes in this last march- for one of the fastest routes into the heart of the Human realms is through the Darkwood, where the petty Lordlings will not have the strength to put up anything more than a token resistance.

Extra: While he doesn't know it, Mikah is 1/8th Elven by ancestral marriage.

Star Wars - Legends of the Old Republic

Well, considering Smugglers do a lot of "black" marketing and skulduggery, it'd be safe to assume that you would have some crazy shit on that ship. Nothing fancy and large like some kind of cruiser, though. From what I can see now, I think I can accept it. Considering he's a Smuggler and un-aligned, he would be in the Freelancer, since you are doing things with the Republic without really being a part of their society.

@CorruptedShadow

Defining "Crazy Shit" here as a hidden smuggling compartment and an illegal turret concealed beneath the floor at the top of the ship's gangplank. The Defender Corvette is otherwise a military surplus vehicle he bought selling his goods from the blockade run.

One other thing I did want to bring up was the idea of an "Unaligned" faction. Kind of like the Third World in the RL Cold War- a group of planets that defines themselves by not taking a side. On paper a safe haven for all and the voice of reason in negotiations. In practice, a hotbed of corruption and poverty that begs the question, "How does this society even function???"

Finally, as to the data mentioned in the last paragraph of my bio, I didn't know if you had plans for a true plot, so I kinda threw that in there as a McGuffin to be used at any time. Let me know if you'd rather I deleted it.

Star Wars - Legends of the Old Republic

Ooooooooh! A Star Wars RP??? Set during the Old Republic times no less? Not gonna lie, it's been almost 6 months since I played, so please forgive me if anything pops as "out of canon" at first; I'll happily adjust to make it work.

I'm going to throw up a CS, but @CorruptedShadow, what's the policy on having a ship for a smuggler?

Horisia Lonix, Smuggler Extraordinaire!

Name: Horisia Lonix

Appearance: *Coming later this evening!*

Race: Human/Zeltron Hybrid

Gender: Male

Age: 28

Faction: Republic/Freelance

Occupation: Smuggler, gun for hire and playboy.

Background: Horisia has made a name for himself in the Outer Rim running guns, refugees and the occasional illicit cargo to anyone willing to pay. His favorite job? Running a small corps of entertainers from his homeworld of Zeltron to Corellia for a grand Bachelor party before the war broke out. It paid well and he still has some of the holotapes stored on T-9, his own private concert of live music from the group that would probably sell for a few credits now that the band has taken off.

His least favorite job? Running the Mandalorian blockade to Coruscant. His old ship, The Blue Dwarf, took a torpedo hit as it broke through the ring of ships and only barely landed with most of its cargo intact. The food, medicine and spice sold at wildly inflated prices, and Horisia's fears that he would be stranded on the planet proved completely unfounded. He scrapped a few custom built systems on the Blue Dwarf and re-installed them on his newly bought vessel, the Defender-class Corvette Red Dwarf.

But what seemed like a great purchase at the time has turned into one of his worst decisions ever. Everyone who sees the vessel, no matter what paint job Horis puts on it, assumes he's working for the Republic now. Imperial vessels shoot on sight, old smuggling contacts disappear into the shadows when he lands, and Republic ships demand his compliance whenever his vessel shows up on their sensors.

In the middle of all this confusion, Horis has fallen on hard times and barely has enough credits to fill up his fuel tanks. He can only make so much moving refugees from one place to another, and with the war having officially stopped he has no more gun-running jobs to fall back on.

If something doesn't fall through soon, he might have to do the unthinkable- sell his ship and settle down somewhere! Hopefully the Data Core one of the ex-military refugees left behind from his last run will have something valuable on it...

Equipment: Hold-out blaster pistol. Companion T-7 droid ("Tee-Eight") fitted with a Protocol voice module instead of Binary.

Extra Information: Horis is only half Zeltron, so his own ability to influence emotions is limited to scent glands in his skin pores. When happy, individuals nearby will pick up a sort of sugary sweetness in the air. Displeasure and disgust will have the room smelling like a used refresher. It makes for a fun evening, but he's a terrible sabbacc player because of it.

Cirque de Noir - Living for the Night

Argh! Still can't get the picture function to work, but I did post a link for image!