AtlasRize

No Turning Back - Into the Abyss

Capsized in Calm Waters...

Sgt. Manash Ranjavi was, as usual, hard at work keeping the schedules and equipment lists for the engineering department up to date, organized, and running smoothly. Also as per usual his uniform was crisp, neat, and perfectly within regulations. He knew everything there was to know about how to keep his department and himself running within the guidelines of the ship's regulations and he did his job very well, even if he did say so himself. Manash scoffed at those who said that being a glorified supply clerk and desk jockey was less honorable or important for a military man than being a fighter pilot, or security agent, or any of the other positions that involved fighting and killing. None of those positions would be possible without someone smart, efficient, and organized making sure that they had all of their equipment and that said equipment was in the best possible condition. And Manash was all of those things, to a tee.

What he was not very good at, on the other hand, was dealing with Echo Olveira.

"Yo Manny!" Echo grinned as she saw the the dark skinned engineering clerk stiffen and wince at the sound of her voice. There was a faint click from the data slate in her hand as she snapped a picture at the same moment, capturing the uncomfortable reaction of the poor bastard for posterity. Hell that might be good enough to make it up onto the wall with the dozens of other pictures arrayed around her room.

"Miss Olveira..." Manny turned away from the computerized inventory he'd been going over to face her, his face one of strained politeness as the blue-haired engineer jumped up to perch on the edge of his desk. "What can I help you with?"

"Heya Manny. I need to check out a diag pad for a Destrier and a set of 87-X spanners, puh-lease." Echo threw the man a big smile as she slid her data slate back into one thigh pocket. Immediately the man's brows furrowed and a contentious look came over his face. It was amazing how often Manny wore that expression when Echo started asking for things.

"I'm sorry, why would you need equipment for working on a Destrier? I clearly have you scheduled for the next three rotations to continue working on the launch catapult in sector 67-Alpha."

"Already finished it."

"What? You've only been working on it for two rotations, there's no way you could be done already."

"One and a half rotations. Check the log, Manny-my-man. I replaced a hydraulic feed and recalibrated the second, third, and fourth relay couplings to get rid of that hiccup, and then did the same with the fifth, sixth, and eighth couplings to boost its efficiency and reduce wear while I was at it." Echo smiled at him again and waved her hand casually as if to say the work had been nothing more than child's play.

"You did all that in two rotations? I don-"

"One and a half."

"...what?"

"I did it in one and a half rotations. Spent the last half of the second one explaining launch stress factors to one of the security guys."

Without another word Manny turned and pulled up a set of records on his terminal, fingers snapping over the keypad. Echo could see his watery brown eyes flicking back and forth as he took in the information displayed, his expression growing just a tiniest bit sicker with each passing second. It wasn't, really, that he disliked Echo, or that he didn't appreciate her skills. On the contrary he found himself constantly impressed and little bit in awe of the Amani girl. It was just that she was constantly disrupting his schedules and planned allocation of resources. He'd never once had to deal with someone quite so disruptive back on Earth.

Recovering, he turned back to Echo. "Well, nicely done then. If that's the case I do have a condenser terminal that-"

"No."

"...what?"

Echo sighed, frowning in mock disapproval. "C'mon Manny, you know the agreement. If I finish up early on whatever you ask me to do I get the rest of the scheduled time for other projects that don't involve fixing what other people break. Just give me the diag pad and the spanners, and I'll be out of your hair. What's left of it."

Ignoring the girl's crack about his thinning hair, Manny turned away and stepped into the supply room behind him to grab the gear Echo wanted. He knew when he was beat. He also knew that it happened every time he had to deal with her. Echo only smiled and bounced off with the equipment and a quick faux-salute as she left the exasperated desk jockey behind.

An hour later Echo was wedged inside a maintenance hatch on one of the Vitae's Destrier gunships, only her legs from the knees down visible as she examined a series of power couplings that fed to one of the craft's main engines. She thought she'd identified a series of power leaks that she could eliminate as well as a way to improve the overall efficiency of the power being delivered to the engines, thereby increasing both the thrust and the responsiveness. Somewhere in the midst of plucking at her guitar she'd calculated roughly a point five percent improvement. Nothing world shattering but it could be enough to spell the difference between life and death for those on board.

It was a goal that had become ever so much starker after the disaster that had been the crew's first planetfall.

"Marco!"

"Polo!" Echo winced as soon as she'd instinctively called out the response. She knew the rough, smoky voice that had called out instantly, and it wasn't exactly someone she was eager to see at the moment.

"There you are, girl. Butt deep in the mysterious inner workings of one machine or another, as usual. What are you doing in there, anyhow?" Echo sighed quietly to herself and wiggled out of the Destrier's maintenance hatch, spanner gripped in one hand. The woman leaning against the side of the ship watching her was tall and stunning, as usual. Ebony skin, sparkling eyes so dark they were almost black, shiny hair pulled back and twisted behind her head. Her generous curves were wrapped in a half open flight suit with the name Manchester stitched on the chest. She wore a white t-shirt underneath and a welcoming smile that always seemed to say that all was right with the world.

It wasn't, but that smile always seemed to think so.

"Tana! What's up?" Echo forced a smile of her own, but was pretty certain that it looked at least a little strained.

"Not a whole lot, my girl. Heard you were somewhere here in the hangar and figured I'd hunt you down. Figured I'd find you crawling inside some hard to reach place filled with moving parts and grease. And lo and behold." Tana gestured towards the open maintenance hatch. "What are you doing anyways? I get nervous when people start playing with my ride." Tana was a pilot, typically for the Destrier gunships. She could fly most of the Vitae's compliment without a problem, of course, but the Destrier was her favorite and the one she was best with.

"Had an idea to make it a bit quicker. Maybe handle a little better. Figured even a small increase could help keep you guys from running into something the next time you get in a hurry."

"Serious? That's awesome, Echo! God knows I love these things but I'll be the first to admit that nimble is not the word to use for them."

There was a small shared laugh between the two that quickly devolved into an uncomfortable silence. Smiles slowly melted away into the half expressions of people who didn't quite know what to say to each other, and Echo could feel a distinct twisting in her gut. For a moment she thought she might actually get sick. That would be just so fucking lovely.

"Look, Echo. About the other night. I just wanted to apologize to you-"

Echo shook her head emphatically, automatically reaching out and touching Tana's arm before drawing back her hand quickly. "Woah, woah, space ranger. You don't have anything to apologize for. I never should have tried to kiss you, it was way over the line." And there it was, out in the open like a proverbial pack of dogs, bursting through an opened gate. No direction, no control, just a stream of noise. "I was... I was lonely, and you were there, and I was just... feeling sorry for myself-"

"And drunk. Don't forget drunk."

"And very drunk. Yeah. Definitely that."

"Look, Echo," Tana straightened, putting one hand on her hip. "You're by far one of my best friends out here and I don't want anything to get in the way of that. You know I love you, just not... like that."

Echo leaned back against the Destrier with a thud and sigh. "I know, trust me. Booze and loneliness are apparently not a good combination for me. Especially with you being all sexy and shit. You should try being ugly or something."

Tana laughed and smiled a very real and very big smile. "I'll keep that in mind. Sexiness levels turned down with Echo gets drunk."

"Maybe I'll just take pictures next time." Echo grinned. "You know, for later."

"You're terrible." Tana swept Echo up in a powerful embrace, proving that there was definitely some muscle under that flight suit. "Still love you Riot Chick."

Echo hugged her back, starting to feel like they'd be able to put the embarrassment of before behind them. "Love you too Fly Girl."

Tana stepped back and released Echo. "Factory after shift? You, me, and Holden?"

"Absolutely. I'll meet you guys there, ok?"

Tana gave her a thumbs up and headed back out into the hangar, while Echo watched her go with a sigh. "Sometimes, Echo my girl, you're an idiot."

No Turning Back - Into the Abyss

I might whip up a description for a couple non-combat ships and run 'em by you if that's cool. Just strikes me that something so large and with intended non-military end goals would have something like that.

No Turning Back - Into the Abyss

@Heat... Heeeaaattt....

Question: Does the Vitae carry more Destrier gunships than the ones on the Nyx?

And a follow up because I didn't see it on the Wiki which, if I'm honest I'm having trouble finding things on in general: non-combat ships? I mean, Echo could fly something with guns if need be, but I would imagine there'd be something on board that wasn't intended to be used in the middle of combat.

TZDL2017 Rules/Signups/Updates

Availability will typically be on Saturdays from about 3 PM Mountain Time onwards, as well as some wednesdays depending on work. Occasional other moments mostly depending on how tired I am from said work.

El Tirano Oscuro

Name: El Tirano Oscuro
Title: El Mano de la Sombra
Gender: Male
Alignment: Rudo
Weight Class: Middleweight
Wrestling Style: Dark Domination

Theme: Night of Rain

:Description:
The Mask: El Tirano's mask covers his entire head, save for a section cut out over the left half of his face (revealing a piece from his left cheekbone down to his chin) and an opening over his right eye. A raggedly shaped patch of bone white sits where his left eye should be. Strangely the mask does nothing to inhibit his ability to see or speak, and indeed many have remarked on the unnatural expressiveness of the mask, as if it is merely a second layer of flesh rather than a garment of some kind. Some believe it is formed of the same dark substance as El Tirano's Alma de la Noche.

Height: 5'11"
Weight: 177 pounds
Eyes: Gold

:The Hype:
A being of mysterious origins, El Tirano Oscuro has emerged from nowhere to become one of the most feared competitors known to the Luchalliance. Relentless and utterly without mercy, El Tirano has nonetheless gathered a devoted following who appreciate not only his slick, stylish aesthetic but his unquestionable skill and drive to attain absolute dominion.

:The Repertoire:

Name: Nino de la Oscuridad
Information: Rumor says that El Tirano was once an ordinary man, a nobody whose life came to an unnaturally short end. Those rumors say he was given a new life, however, reborn at the hand of unfathomable beings who dwell beyond the worlds known to man and beast as an unholy creature of frightful power and purpose. But those are only rumors, yes?

Regardless of his actual origin it is clear that El Tirano is no normal man in mind, body, or soul. El Tirano easily surpasses regular humans, his form less a living, breathing body and more an animated creation of unbridled hatred. He does not bleed, breathe, or eat and while he seems to possess all the various organs and systems that a normal human does, none of them actually work as they should. Most seem merely there for show, although he does use lungs to speak, and most of his sensory organs seem to function (at least in purpose). He does not, however, feel pain of any sort and there is no semblance of chemical or electrical activity actually taking place within his body, leading one to the belief that whatever form his mind now takes it has nothing to do with firing synapses and such. In addition to a cunning, staggering intellect El Tirano possesses a dilated perception of events, allowing him to perceive and understand events as if they were happening in slow motion. Combined with his highly enhanced reflexes this allow him to react to incoming stimuli with speed that denies normal physiological limits.

Name: Alma de la Noche
Information: The rumors of El Tirano's connection to the dark places of existence is reenforced by his ability to call forth a tangible shadow to assault his foes. There seems to be no limits to the amount that he can summon or the extents to which he can shape it. It is possessed of immense strength and makes for excellent grappling and shielding. Additionally El Tirano is capable of storing and retrieving items from somewhere within the darkness, as he does with his great spear.

Name: El Mano de la Muerte
Information: El Tirano possesses a frightening capability to summon forth the very essence of entropy itself, tearing apart both matter and energy with a thought. At its most basic use, the target of this ability is disassembled into its basic components, while at its most powerful they are decimated down to the point of becoming nothing at all.

The forces that imbue living creatures seem to be a natural anathema to El Mano de la Muerte, making them immune to its dread power. Inanimate objects, machines, energy forms, and other non-living items, however, are all equal prey to the entropic force of El Tirano's power.

Name: Mentes de los Muertos
Information: By "disassembling" and observing the mind of a recently dead individual, El Tirano is able to absorb the memories of his victims. Combined with his photographic memory this grants him a very wide library of knowledge indeed.

Name: Armas de los Muertos
Information: Similar to his ability to gain a dead person's memory, El Tirano is capable of breaking down the physical abilities of the dead as well. Combining the two allows El Tirano to learn and copy the fighting capability and physical skills of his defeated victims. Gymnastics, martial arts, swordsmanship, gun skills, etc. When taken as a whole, this vast array of fighting skill leads to El Tirano's unique combat style, Dark Domination.

Finishing Move!: Final Domination
Information: His foe thoroughly beaten, El Tirano summons forth a scaffold of glistening darkness, hoisting his victim into the air, immobile and helpless. He then summons forth the darkness from his own form, extending his own powerful hand into a monstrous black claw that he uses to latch onto the victim's head and neck. El Tirano then brutally smashes his defeated enemy to the ground, head first to end the humiliation of his foe.

:Tools of the Trade:

-Weapons

Name: Justicia
Type: Bronze Spear
Description: The weapon was cast thousands of years ago in a single piece of gleaming bronze. From the butt of its five foot haft to the tip of its two foot leaf shaped blade every square inch is covered in the arcane script of a long dead race of mystics.
Information: Justicia was forged to be the weapon of a long forgotten people's greatest hero, and with it she cast down the death god that ruled over them. Since then it has passed from hand to hand and eventually out of their world and into the multiverse. Its history is one of bloodshed and combat, as befits such an artifact.

At its core Justicia was desigend to pierce any armor, cut through any defense. Magic does not stop it, and its blade can slay the divine and the infernal as well as it can the mortal. Infused with the spirit of the original death god it was used to kill, its ability to kill has heightened to even greater levels, allowing it slay even the gods themselves. And it hungers for those deaths. Every ounce of blood spilt by its edge, every creature impaled upon its tip is like fresh water to a man dying of thirst. It has become exceedingly more bloodthirsty as the centuries have worn on, and every chance that it gets it goads its wielder into greater acts of death and destruction.

Despite being cast from bronze, Justicia is seemingly immune to damage and decay. It bears no dings, scrapes, or tarnish and it gleams and shines in the light as on the day it was first used to draw blood.

No Turning Back - Into the Abyss

Rebellion in Repose...

Echo's eyes fluttered slightly as she slowly woke up. She wasn't sure where the phrase came from - some snippet of a half remembered dream, perhaps - but her first thought on waking was that it would make a badass name for a new song. She smiled slightly to herself. Inspiration strikes at odd moments, after all.

A massive yawn broke her train of thought, and the Amani realized that she was all but face down in her pillow as she got a mouthful of the smooth material. Snorting and hacking a bit, Echo forced herself to roll over, unkinking wiry limbs that had been twisted into seemingly uncomfortable positions over the course of one hell of a deep sleep. Wincing at the stiffness of her neck, she turned bleary blue eyes to the chrono at the side of her bed, taking in the time and happily realizing that she wasn't scheduled to be anywhere for a good hour and a half.

That lasted for all of two seconds before Echo blinked away the sleep and read the time piece correctly and realized that she actually had only thirty minutes.

"Oh fuck!" She lurched up with a squawk and fumbled her way past the guitar she'd fallen asleep plucking at and tumbled headlong out of bed and onto the floor. "Motherfucker..." Snarling she shoved herself into a standing position and struggled out of her t-shirt and towards the shower. A short trail of doffed clothing and curses quickly appeared to show the path between her bed and the bathroom, and soon Echo was immersed in a scalding spray of water.

By the time she made it back into her living area, Echo was far more awake and in a much better mood. She wasn't scheduled for any particular duty, no requests on her plate to take care of, which meant she would have the chance to work on some ides and projects of her own that didn't involve fixing things other people broke. In particular she was keen to start working on a plan she'd come up with to improve the output of the Destriers' engines and maneuverability. They were work horse ships, to be certain, and not made for speed and agility. With a little tinkering and a healthy dose of Echo Olveira Genius (TM), the life long spacer was convinced that she could give them a bit more oomph when it came to getting in and out of dangerous spots.

Washed, awake, and bright blue hair brushed into submission, Echo nimbly dodged over the remnants of last night's clothes and commenced the assault on her closet. Flame motif underwear, check. Black bra, check. Black cargo pants, check. White tank top with neon red skull and crossbones on the front, check. Black suspenders hanging loose at her sides, check. Black work boots with random drawings in silver ink, check. Array of leather and steel wristbands on her right arm, check. Super useful and difficult to break chrono on her left arm, check. Looking like a fucking bad ass boss, check.

Time to go kick some ass.

A hasty sandwich made from the leftovers of last night's dinner in hand and her black tool bag slung across her chest, Echo grabbed up her data slate and ear piece, shoving the former into a pocket and the latter into her left ear. A last look around the room to ensure she hadn't forgotten anything pressing and she was off and bouncing through the door.

"Play List: Riot's Requiem." Growling, breakneck speed music immediately began playing through her ear piece as Echo set off down the corridor, and for a moment, at least, all was right with the world.

No Turning Back - Into the Abyss

Player Name: AtlasRize
Character Name: Echo Olveira
Character Age: 26
Character Gender: Female
Appearance:

Echo

She might not be shooting for Queen of the Runway status anytime soon, but appearance has always been important for Echo. Just maybe not the same appearance that others want to cultivate. Echo stands at a tidge over five-eight, and weighs around a hundred and twenty pounds. She's lithe and wiry, and stronger than she looks. The vibrant blue of her ear-length hair matches her eyes, and sets off the light tan-brown skin she got from a myriad of mixed ethnicities in her background. What would otherwise be the harsh lines of her cheeks and nose are softened by her ready smile, warm skin tone, and a scattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She's collected a number of tattoos over the years, mostly on her left arm and right side. Her wardrobe consists almost entirely of bright colors and eclectic pieces in a decidedly punk aesthetic. She keeps an image of raw, wild-child rough and tumble at all times, an image that goes with her sometimes raucous personality perfectly.
Profession: Engineer (with a promising side gig as a non-combat pilot)
Nationality: Amani
Strengths: When it comes to mechanical things, Echo is an absolute savant. She intrinsically understands how moving things work and always seems to have the answers as to how to fix them, break them, or just MacGuyver them. It was this genius aptitude for engineering that got her selected for the Vitae more than anything else.

Echo is also a moderately skilled pilot of small to medium craft. Growing up in space is a natural place to learn such things, and with her innate grasp of how the things function and respond, she takes to piloting easily. What she isn't, however, is a trained combat pilot so while she's eager and capable when it comes to piloting things around for all sorts of duties (and indeed enjoys doing so) she won't be engaging in any dog fights anytime soon. Hopefully.

Echo is also a pretty damn good musician if you've got the good taste to enjoy her style.

Weaknesses: Echo, like many spacers, has a streak of anti-authority sentiment that can be hard to get past. Coupled with her fierce independent streak, sometimes touchy temper, and absolute willingness to throw a punch she can sometimes get herself into less than desirable situations.

In a lot of ways Echo tends to be more comfortable around machines than she is people, and she has a bad habit of thinking the worst about those who haven't proven themselves to her. Particularly those from Earth.

Personal Effects: Echo doesn't have a great deal of personal belongings, but what she does have are all very important to her. First off is her personal set of tools. A set of high quality pieces kept in a black satchel-style bag that she keeps with her at almost all times. After all, you never know when something might break. Or someone might need to be hit with a wrench.

Secondly is her guitar. Not overly fancy, but rather rough and powerful, like Echo likes to imagine herself as being. She keeps it in tip top working condition, regardless of what the outside might look like, and she likes to play.

The pictures. An absolute ton of pictures that Echo has scattered around her quarters, stuck on up on walls mostly without virture of a frame or anything else. Echo isn't the best photographer, but she's an avid one and her living area is covered in a myriad snaps of mostly people that she feels tells the story of her life and those around her. One particular photo of Echo and four others all huddled together in an obviously happy time holds place of honor next to her bed, the only one in an actual frame. She claims to have hundreds more that aren't printed out saved digitally.

She also brought along a collection of accpetable (by her standards) attire and a few odds and ends to go with it.

Bio: Echo grew up on a relatively poor Amani vessel. Both of her parents were mechanics and engineers, and she spent hundreds of hours with them in the depths of the ships workings, learning how to fix things or MacGuyver them into working correctly.

She was only six when the aliens came in and destroyed so much, killed so many. It was from them that she first learned what true anger was. Echo learned to hate after her parents died at the hands of the invaders, and she learned to fear as well.

But Echo had first learned love from her parents, not only for herself, but for the great machines that housed and kept them safe from the deadly vaccuum outside. Echo threw herself into learning, determined to make sure that wherever she lived would work well enough to escape the invaders the next time they came, or could fight back. It didn't take long for others to notice not only her single minded devotion to learning engineering and mechanics but her natural gifts for it as well. By the time she was ten she was easily the match for anything her parents could have done. By twelve she had left their capabilities in the dust. And she never stopped or looked back.

When the time came for Project Genesis, her name was put up by the captain of her ship, and it didn't take long for those doing the choosing to agree. Despite some incidents over the years where Echo's temper got the best of her, the girl was perfect in many ways. Her skills could prove invaluable to any ship, and her drive to learn and explore all but ensured that she'd jump at the chance. Coupled with her age and physical traits, she was quickly snapped up as an excellent candidate.

Code Word: Spaghetti, right?

No Turning Back - Into the Abyss

Player Name: AtlasRize
Character Name: Echo Olveira
Character Age: 26
Character Gender: Female
Appearance: She might not be shooting for Queen of the Runway status anytime soon, but appearance has always been important for Echo. Just maybe not the same appearance that others want to cultivate. Echo stands at a tidge over five-eight, and weighs around a hundred and twenty pounds. She's lithe and wiry, and stronger than she looks. The vibrant blue of her ear-length hair matches her eyes, and sets off the light tan-brown skin she got from a myriad of mixed ethnicities in her background. What would otherwise be the harsh lines of her cheeks and nose are softened by her ready smile, warm skin tone, and a scattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She's collected a number of tattoos over the years, mostly on her left arm and right side. Her wardrobe consists almost entirely of bright colors and eclectic pieces in a decidedly punk aesthetic. She keeps an image of raw, wild-child rough and tumble at all times, an image that goes with her sometimes raucous personality perfectly.
Profession: Engineer (with a promising side gig as a non-combat pilot)
Nationality: Amani
Strengths: When it comes to mechanical things, Echo is an absolute savant. She intrinsically understands how moving things work and always seems to have the answers as to how to fix them, break them, or just MacGuyver them. It was this genius aptitude for engineering that got her selected for the Vitae more than anything else.

Echo is also a moderately skilled pilot of small to medium craft. Growing up in space is a natural place to learn such things, and with her innate grasp of how the things function and respond, she takes to piloting easily. What she isn't, however, is a trained combat pilot so while she's eager and capable when it comes to piloting things around for all sorts of duties (and indeed enjoys doing so) she won't be engaging in any dog fights anytime soon. Hopefully.

Echo is also a pretty damn good musician if you've got the good taste to enjoy her style.

Weaknesses: Echo, like many spacers, has a streak of anti-authority sentiment that can be hard to get past. Coupled with her fierce independent streak, sometimes touchy temper, and absolute willingness to throw a punch she can sometimes get herself into less than desirable situations.

In a lot of ways Echo tends to be more comfortable around machines than she is people, and she has a bad habit of thinking the worst about those who haven't proven themselves to her. Particularly those from Earth.

Personal Effects: Echo doesn't have a great deal of personal belongings, but what she does have are all very important to her. First off is her personal set of tools. A set of high quality pieces kept in a black satchel-style bag that she keeps with her at almost all times. After all, you never know when something might break. Or someone might need to be hit with a wrench.

Secondly is her guitar. Not overly fancy, but rather rough and powerful, like Echo likes to imagine herself as being. She keeps it in tip top working condition, regardless of what the outside might look like, and she likes to play.

The pictures. An absolute ton of pictures that Echo has scattered around her quarters, stuck on up on walls mostly without virture of a frame or anything else. Echo isn't the best photographer, but she's an avid one and her living area is covered in a myriad snaps of mostly people that she feels tells the story of her life and those around her. One particular photo of Echo and four others all huddled together in an obviously happy time holds place of honor next to her bed, the only one in an actual frame. She claims to have hundreds more that aren't printed out saved digitally.

She also brought along a collection of accpetable (by her standards) attire and a few odds and ends to go with it.

Bio: Echo grew up on a relatively poor Amani vessel. Both of her parents were mechanics and engineers, and she spent hundreds of hours with them in the depths of the ships workings, learning how to fix things or MacGuyver them into working correctly.

She was only six when the aliens came in and destroyed so much, killed so many. It was from them that she first learned what true anger was. Echo learned to hate after her parents died at the hands of the invaders, and she learned to fear as well.

But Echo had first learned love from her parents, not only for herself, but for the great machines that housed and kept them safe from the deadly vaccuum outside. Echo threw herself into learning, determined to make sure that wherever she lived would work well enough to escape the invaders the next time they came, or could fight back. It didn't take long for others to notice not only her single minded devotion to learning engineering and mechanics but her natural gifts for it as well. By the time she was ten she was easily the match for anything her parents could have done. By twelve she had left their capabilities in the dust. And she never stopped or looked back.

When the time came for Project Genesis, her name was put up by the captain of her ship, and it didn't take long for those doing the choosing to agree. Despite some incidents over the years where Echo's temper got the best of her, the girl was perfect in many ways. Her skills could prove invaluable to any ship, and her drive to learn and explore all but ensured that she'd jump at the chance. Coupled with her age and physical traits, she was quickly snapped up as an excellent candidate.

Code Word: Spaghetti, right?

No Turning Back - Into the Abyss (Looking for new people!)

You guys still looking? This sounds interesting.

TZDL2017.. BUT ON RPGUILD!

My hair thanks you.

@Dias Blade

Your hair is very polite. I appreciate that in a mass of follicles.

TZDL2017.. BUT ON RPGUILD!

Here. And Goat, I will be happy to beat you into obscurity but I promise not to eat your hair.