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  • Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
  • Joined: 6 yrs ago
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    1. Bea 6 yrs ago

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4 yrs ago
Current <o/
1 like
5 yrs ago
Nothing like GMing a solid Star wars RP with good old friends, then being invited to join back in on an old Witcher RP with another good group <3
4 likes
5 yrs ago
Alexa, play "I'm Deranged" by David Bowie for someone who thinks I stalk them, ty. Then follow it up with something along the lines of "Only Because It Bugs You". Thanksss!
1 like
5 yrs ago
As a crazy plant lady, this outbreak and quarantine is not helping my random online buying sprees... I'm gonna live in a jungle by time this is over.
5 likes
5 yrs ago
Oh hell yea 🔥🔥 roleplayerguild.com/posts/5…

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Kid - Beck's Skiff, Jundland Wastes




"You alright to- use that, kid!?"

“Yea Billy, I got it!” Kid hollered over the roar of the cannon. He held it tight as it threatened to throw him off balance. Minutes went by as the convoy kept moving and Kid kept his aim at the enemies towards the rock pillars. Slugs whizzed past him here and there, hitting the skiff with quiet ‘plink’ noises as they bounced off.
It was all too easy it seemed, with everything functioning perfectly. Then again, Kid did his best to maintain the crew’s weapons in his off time. After all, a downed weapon could mean a dead man. He took a few seconds pause every now and then, allowing the cannon some time to cool before sending another barrage of lasers downrange. The incoming fire never seemed to let up, so Kid didn’t either. Everything was going well, everything was fine.

That is until the cannon stopped firing, when Kid was definitely trying to make it fire.
“Beck! I gotta take a look at the cannon!” Kid hollered, watching as smoke started to billow out from inside the mechanism. He didn’t hesitate before moving to the side with the hatch, turning the knob and opening up the metal panel, using a small metal bar to keep the panel propped as Kid started to assess the inside mechanism. Pulling a couple tools from his jacket, the boy went to work right away as he noticed a few pieces that were loose or crooked.

A minute went by, the Kid attempting to keep his side profile low as he worked, not wishing to take a stray slug from the side. He heard a couple ‘plinks’ closer to him, hitting the guardrail and bouncing off. A couple more, and more, closer now.

They must’ve noticed our damn cannon is down. he thought, hearing more plinks closer to him as he works.
Suddenly he heard three in quick succession, and then another merely inches from his head. The Kid turned as the loud noise startled him, and suddenly the side of his head started to sting, and he could feel something warm running down his cheek.

“Shit!” he hollered, a little louder than usual as the stings came on stronger and stronger. Shrapnel from an impacting slug hit the guardrail and ricocheted into the side of his head. A few pieces stuck in his goggles, from what he could see, as he continued working on the cannon. His jaw locked and teeth clenched as the worked through the small pains, knowing just how important the cannon was to their survival. Small streams of blood started to line the side of his head and cheek as he worked, but Kid paid no mind to it. The cannon needed to come back online.
Kid - Beck's Skiff, Jundland Wastes




"Y'know, you never think to ask, do ya?" Kid hollered at Beck, watching as the man jammed slugs into his weapon, by hand, without a stripper clip. He stepped closer to Beck, his focus down range, acting as sort of a cover for the man as he reloaded slugs into his cycler. First shot, miss. Second, hit. By then Beck was back up and at it, so Kid took his turn to reload his cycler.

Being the sassy youngin' he was, the kid couldn't help but flash his stripper clip at back as sort of a 'you should've just asked' gesture. He didn't wait another moment before jamming more slugs into his weapon, pulling the bolt back, and focusing back down range. Beck gave the order for someone to man the anti-personnel cannon on the rail and Kid didn't hesitate as he jumped up and bolted over to it. Sliding his cycler over his shoulder, Kid flipped a couple switches and got the cannon online in a few short moments.
Sure, he was better with a long-range cycler, but Kid had received a few lessons on different weapons the crew tended to use, so luckily he knew a little bit about how to man the cannon.

After a few moments he could hear the cannon winding up. He used most of his body weight to move it, pointing in the general direction of the sand people and letting loose a barrage of lasers in a moments notice. He crouched low behind the machine as he fired down range, knowing all too well how much of a sitting target he could be, and attempting to use the cannon as a shield while he fired.
Kid - Beck's Skiff, Jundland Wastes




"I think you'll make it old man." Kid replied, rolling his eyes at Beck's response. Kid understood how dangerous this life was, how every assignment was a hit or miss when it comes to making it back home. He understood the dangers, the risks, and the grief that could come with it. That didn't mean he couldn't show compassion towards those he cared about in the here and now. Beck was one of those. The Kid was younger, maybe faster; he could pick up where Beck couldn't. At least the kid tried to.

Distracted by his thoughts, he didn't hear the first few plinks of what he assumed to be rocks on metal. Suddenly others were calling for gunfire, giving a direction for shots, and Beck was returning fire.
Kid reached up to pull his goggles down over his eyes, lifting the eyewear up off his head slightly to move them. He heard the whiz of a slug as it flew right over his head, catching the goggles and knocking them out of his hands and off the side of the skiff.

"Little bastards!" Kid cursed under his breath. Pulling another pair of goggles from his pocket, for the boy was never short on them it seemed, he quickly pulled them over his eyes and pulled his Czerka cycler from his back. He took a couple steps back to put some space in between he and Beck, Kid wiped a few loose strands of hair from in front of his face before lifting the cycler up and aiming towards the rocks. A flip of the safety and a quick moment later a sand person could be seen falling from his perch upon the tall rock pillar.
Two more shots and two more sand people fell to the desert below. He kept an eye on Beck as the skiff swayed left and right, watching for any hand signals, listening for any orders. The boy kept up with his shots, hitting every other shot it seemed, the movement of the skiff challenging his abilities as a shooter.
Kid - Beck's Skiff, Jundland Wastes




As he sat near the stern of the skiff, the Kid had heard talk of brutal sandstorm headed their way, one that could not be avoided nor held out. And on top of the sandstorm, there were bound to others with their eyes on the prize, on the cargo Beck and his team were transporting. The danger of the job never really bothered Kid. Despite being young, he really had nothing to lose. He had gone through hell and back before Beck plucked him out of the hellholes of Tatooine.
He worked hard to impress, because most of the people he looked up to were members of the crew, Beck especially. Kid wasn't sure if he seemed like a father, uncle, or even brother, but the boy cared about Beck. The man had taken Kid under his wing after all, fed him, cared for him. So in return Kid worked hard, tirelessly, in order to show his gratitude and thanks. It wasn't exactly the safest life to be pulled into, but it sure as hell beat living on the streets, drowning in sand, and stealing to survive.

Weapons had been cleaned, examined, double cleaned and then triple cleaned. For something that might've been a chore for most, Kid always enjoyed sitting in silence and polishing the weapons. Functions checks were something he could do with his eyes closed, something he had done for nearly every day in the last two years.
Once most of his tasks were complete, Kid moved from the back of the skiff towards the front, his personal Cycler Rifle strapped over his shoulders and hanging off his back.

Many of the crew had come to respect the kid, he held up his end of the deal at least. Sure he was young, but he had proven himself capable many a time during all the jobs Beck put his crew on.

"Better hold onto something Kid, wouldn't want ye to get blown of this 'ere skiff when the storm comes 'round," said an older male Weequay, Bonvo.
"Heh, don' worry Bo, no storm'll get me. Besides, who's gonna save yer skin if I'm not here?" Kid joked, to which the pirate just chuckled and rolled his eyes as he resumed his watch on the horizon.
As Kid got to the bow of the ship, he leaned up against the guardrail next to Beck and looked out across the wasteland as the skiff moved. Dirty goggles resting on his head, he subconsciously reached up to adjust them in his unkempt hair.

"Y'know those cigarra's 'er pretty bag for ya, Beck. I heard they rot ya' lungs out eventually." Kid said, turning his head slightly as he looked up at the older man next to him.

Name: Kid, or "The Kid"

Occupation and Affiliation: Simple crewmember who works alongside Beck, as almost an apprentice of sorts.

Description:
Age: 16
Species: Human





Background: Orphaned due to the war and the violence that follows it, Kid was on his own for quite some time, scrounging for scraps and stealing in order to survive. He had been born on Tatooine, and naturally as a young boy had no way of leaving. Crime was the only way he could get by, and for a couple years of living as an orphan, he had grown accustomed to it.
While attempting to pickpocket one day, he was caught by his target, Beck Ducrae. The Kid had nowhere to go, no name to go by, but was young and trying his hardest to survive. So after an offer, Kid decided it was in his best interest to tag along with Beck, no contract, nothing forcing him to stay, yet the young kid stuck around.
Not a stranger to violence or death, he quickly learned how to defend himself and the crew, both in hand-to-hand combat, with a slugthrower, and everything else in between. He was young, but the boy was bright and willing to learn.
Sticking with the crew, it's been two years since Beck picked up the Kid. He's earned his stay, so to say, but still has much to learn.

Skills and Pastimes:
> Kid has gotten pretty good in terms of long range cycler rifles. Some say he is a natural born sniper, though he still has much to learn and definitely isn't the best of the best.
> If he isn't busy helping the crew, the Kid can usually be found in his quarters cleaning the crew's weapons, tinkering, fixing, anything to do with his hands. He enjoys being useful, and he knows he has a knack for repairing weapons and tinkering with other devices.
For all of those looking for a link:

discord.gg/vvaMb2W

There's also a thread dedicated to a permanent link.
Senators Eyri, Tychus, and O'Keemi, Committee Meeting Room, Senate Building



Cᴏʟʟᴀʙ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ Sɪɴɪ, Aʟᴍᴀ, ᴀɴᴅ Bᴇᴀ


Tychus had grown up seeing a lot of aliens, had seen more during the war and more still after coming to Coruscant, but he had never got over the Amaran vulpine looks. They were very similar to the Coyn fox he had seen on holo-documentaries on Outer Rim fauna. This particular Amaran, O’Keemi T’Sombe, even had the same fur.

“So,” Tychus cleared his throat, sitting back in the comfy chair, “did you bring the twins?” His eyes flicked to the door of the committee conference room, as if trying to catch a glimpse of the blondes. Small talk, meant to amuse and confuse.

O’Keemi looked over at Tychus with a questioning eyebrow lift. “Those two wouldn’t know what to do with themselves if I hadn’t. They like to confuse people and probably would have created havoc back at the office.” Her nails clicked together as she rolled her eyes at the antics of the Twins.

The Alsakan senator could think of a few things those Thormea aides could get into, with themselves or… a third party involved. “That means you don’t keep them on a tight enough leash,” said Tychus. Before the Amaran could retort, he moved on. “So, what’s this meeting about? The brief was… well brief. I don’t see how we can make any progress on the Pantoran matter with Pharliis in absentia.” Think those high-tech, expensive desalination plants can turn her bitter tears into potable water? Not a charming thought, but that’s how Tychus’ mind operated. He still felt for his Pantoran colleague.

O’Keemi mock snarled at the word leash. “You go giving them ideas and they will be worse than when I picked them up off the streets. Leashes. Horrid thought. Pharliis will learn to pick her battles like we all did. Some of us sooner than others.” O’Keemi fixed Tychus with an intense stare. “How much reading did you get done over your fancy coffee this morning Tychus?”

No chance that she had got wind of his holographic tête-à-tête with the CEC Chairwoman, Tychus surmised she was referring to his better known fondness of vine-coffee. “I did not realise my morning routines were of such an interest to you.” This time, a smidge of vitriol laced his town. Tychus was very protective over what little privacy he had left in his capacity as Planetary Representative. “But if you must ask, I do my best reading in the outhouse.”

O’Keemi smirked. “I’m just going to savor this moment that I know something before you then. But I need you up to speed more than I want to stroke my own ego.” She handed him a data pad which showed the bill that Towler sent her. “See for yourself what Towler is plotting. If you take that out of my presence I don’t want it back. Fair warning it was one of the Twins.”

It only took a few moments of scrolling for Tychus to realise it was the impending bill of seizure the Senate would push in retaliation of Corellia’s Contemplanys Hermi. “Seems I will have to let you down. I’ve known of this for a little while now. It’s hardly in the province of the migration and immigration committee.” He entwined his fingers and watched her with heavy-lidded eyes. This is highly sensitive. Play coy. “What of it?”

O’Keemi nodded. “Not yet our problem, but it could be. Personally I’d love to hear your views on it.” She shifted and leaned over and lowered her voice to a whisper. “It favors one party far too much but that’s before everyone gets their claws into it, so to speak.” She leaned back and smoothed her tail absently watching Tychus with bright curious eyes.

“I’ll be candid. Personally, mark me: personally, I believe the Corellians get what they deserve for having a cop-out. Corellia has its ‘Contemplanys Hermi’ and Kuat its ‘Inheritance Exemption’… Call it what you will – meditative solitude or dynastic bequest – these are privileges exploiting goodwill. Why does one party get an exception and the other does not?” Tychus shrugged, took a deep breath. “There is a lot to be said for both sides though. I understand the strategic reasons for needing to remain in control of the CEC Shipyards, but I also know the Corellians won’t ever stand for it. If this bill passes, Free Corellia will only gain traction. Have you seen the news-feed, the vids? Then, we’ll all be looking down the gun-barrel afore too long. The Senate’s playing with fire, O’Keemi, and we need to mind not to get burnt so I’m waiting to see which way the wind blows. I do not intend to go down in flames.” He looked at her for a time, letting it sink in. Tychus cracked his trademark charming smile then. “Officially? That’s another matter entirely.”

It wasn’t but a few minutes later when the doors to the committee conference room opened, and in walked Senator Pharliis. Accompanying her was her Junior Representative Barin Elwahs. Eyri held a datapad in her hands, one hand typing and the other keeping the device steady, as she approached the table to take a seat.

“You know you can work on that elsewhere, right? You should wait until the meeting is over.” Barin insisted, his eyes rolling, his tone reflecting his facial expression, annoyed.

“This is important, Barin.” she said sternly, sitting down one chair away from Tychus as she worked away at the datapad.

“More important than the meeting?”

“Not more important, just important.” Eyri huffed in frustration as she glanced up at her Junior Rep before her eyes moved to the table. “Good afternoon Senators.” she said, forcing out a sincere but weak smile as she looked at them both.

O’Keemi turned toward Eryi as the greeting was heard. “Looks like the mining bill is still on the table. You jinxed it Tychus. Good afternoon Senator. What can we do for you?”

Tychus saw the brittle resolve. “Senator Pharliis… Eyri… Should you even be here right now?” The reason why was left unspoken but clear for all presently in the committee conference room. “No one would fault you for taking some time off.” He had several questions, mostly pertaining to Pharliis’s security, and more still about the how and why of the murder. A chief of staff killed, even from a backwater like Pantora, was a big deal. It put them all at risk.

Setting the datapad down on the table, Eyri looked to O’Keemi and Tychus in turn. “There is still work to be done. I am a part of this committee, it would be highly improper if I wasn’t here to discuss the bill with you, we all have a job to do.” Eyri said. Her body language reflected confidence, yet her tone was obviously reflecting her emotions. It was weaker, and wavered from time to time, but Eyri kept on.

“You’re no good to us - or the bill - if you can’t think straight. Grief and mourning are a thing, Eyri.” Tychus remembered well the trauma of losing people close to you. Living on when others died could cripple the survivor with sorrow. “I am fairly certain your physiology is sufficiently similar to my own to know what you’re going through.”

O’Keemi watched as the two of them tossed the tense ball of emotion back and forth. “My condolences Eyri. I didn’t take the gossip as fact, or as close to fact as we get here. We can at least be that certain half the time. If there is anything you need just let me know.” O’Keemi bowed her head and indicated that Eyri take a seat.

"Iri would have wanted me to keep going." Eyri said, although she knew that was a lie. Her friend was always saying that she needed rest, needed to get away, to spend some time to herself.
"Now can we please change the subject." she continued, taking a deep breath and holding a hand up to rest her head on as she rested one elbow on the table. "The bill, how far have we gotten on it?"
Here's a link to the Discord for all interested in checking out what we're about!

There are tons of people on the Discord who are willing to help/explain some things to you, as well as links to the Lore Docs, Character appearance ideas, and so much more.

discord.gg/NaEPXdh
Come join in!
ᴄᴏʟʟᴀʙ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ Aʟᴍᴀ ᴀɴᴅ Bᴇᴀ


Brye, escort Jaslyn to my chambers.

Hearing those words, Brye took a deep breath. She calmed herself, for it might’ve been a little obvious how on edge Brye had been made by the events of the day. She was quiet, her movements rigid but with intent.
“Yes Master.” she said quietly, finally moving from the spot she had stood, and over to Jaslyn.

Brye didn’t say a word further as she walked up to her fellow padawan. She moved her head, indicating the way she and Jaslyn would be going. Brye didn’t taken Jaslyn’s arm, she did nothing to show the lack of faith she had in her fellow Padawan, but it was there nonetheless. Once Jaslyn would start to walk, Brye would follow right next to her.

Jaslyn looked at Brye and shook her head and proceeded with Brye at her side down the hallway. When they were alone Jaslyn looked over at Brye and sighed. “Out with it before you burst Brye. What are you dying to ask me?”

Still holding Jaslyn’s belt on one hand, that hand tightened. “Why?” Brye began, looking over at her friend as they walked. “Why are you with this, this Dark Sider? Do you understand all the chaos she has caused? All the Jedi that have died because of her landing?”

Jaslyn tilted her head at Brye. “So I had two options. One go with Selene and see what she was up to or stay and be ignorant. I chose the former. Secondly she didn’t reach out with the Force and make the storms or quakes. No the planet reacted. Do you know why Brye? Why react so violently to one being? Selene is not the reason people died today. Our own arrogance and ignorance caused people to die today.” Jaslyn was deeply saddened by the loss of life because it had been preventable.

There was a heavy frown on Brye’s face, and almost a glare in her eyes as she watched Jaslyn. “So you’re saying everyone who stayed back today, because of the violent storms, everyone is to blame for Tython’s chaos? Those who stayed to protect the Younglings, and those injured in the Medbay, those who were out on Tython and had to fight their way back to safety; all those deaths could have been preventable? Had that Dark Sider not landed on Tython, none of this would have happened.”

Brye shook her head, she could feel the frustration and anger building up even as she knew her emotions were under her own control. She would not be another to lose sight of the Jedi way today. “Have you even thought of your own actions? What would’ve happened had you stayed and helped Master Vondin fight her way back? Perhaps Master Elav would still be alive? All of our actions have consequences, Jaslyn. The events of today, everything that has happened, the blame does not just fall on the Jedi who call Tython their home. It is not just those who lived through the chaos who were arrogant and ignorant. They did everything they could to protect our home. Can you say the same for yourself?”

As they approached the door to Satele’s quarters, Brye went silent. Waving her hand in front of the panel, the door opened and she walked Jaslyn inside. There were many places to sit, but Brye instead stood next to the door as it closed, arms folded, Jaslyn’s belt in one hand, and a very stern look on her face as she watched over her fellow Padawan.

Jaslyn shook her head sadly. “Yes, even I am to blame. Who’s to say I wouldn’t be the one dead Brye? Perhaps that would have been better. This is, no never mind.” Jaslyn sighed and sat down running her hands through her hair.

“Just because she gave you the choice to join her, does not mean you had to stay... Sithspit- you even defend the Dark Sider after the fact!” Brye said, throwing her hands in the air. She placed Jaslyn’s belt on a small table next to the door before returning to her original position. “What’s so important that would make you want to defend her?!”

Brye’s voice was calm, quiet, yet she couldn’t help but want answers. One of her closest friends was suddenly a traitor to the Jedi Order, to everything either of them had ever known. Brye wanted to know why Jasyln seemingly up and left her ideals to tag along with the Dark Sider.

Jaslyn looked hurt at Brye’s outburst. “You wouldn’t believe me. I have yet to wrap my head around it. But tell me this Brye, where in the code does it say slay all Dark Side users? Where in the code does it say to spurn those that don’t agree with the code? Or rather does it give more direction on bringing one to the light? Everyone deserves the benefit of doubt now and again. As for what is so important that I defend her…” Jaslyn looked up and gave Brye her “I am disappointed that you have not come to this conclusion yet” look. “That is my business, not yours or anyone else’s. Even though I’m sure that they’ll pry it out of me. So I’m sorry if that sounds harsh but you’re one of the few people I will apologize to about it.” Jaslyn looked upset but with what was going on who wouldn’t?
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