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  • Old Guild Username: Darcs
  • Joined: 11 yrs ago
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    1. Darcs 11 yrs ago
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7 yrs ago
WHO DAT BOY, 911
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8 yrs ago
Stop and frisk me, daddy. Unf.
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9 yrs ago
Organize a strike in your school or workplace on the grounds that it does not satisfy your need for indolence & spiritual beauty.
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Name: Red Sand Alliance
Race: Cosmopolitan collection of Nāga (top half human, bottom half serpentine), Aqrabuamelu (head, arms and torso human, everything else human), Arachne kin (Sentient, intelligent giant spiders, capable of communication), and hybrids.
Population: 807
  • Nāga: 131

  • Aqrabuamelu: 142

  • Arachne kin: 456

  • Hybrids: 78

Color: Teal
Symbol/Flag:
Starting Tile: Desert
Biography/FunFacts:




  • Originally three separate desert tribes, the Nāga, Aqrabuamelu, and Arachne kin were known only on terms of uneasy peace. A common enemy found in the Locusta (Locust folk), united three into one. Years of ridding the desert of the threat have decimated the numbers of all three tribes, but created the Red Sand Alliance.

  • Government of the RSA takes from all three of the previous tribes, as well as incorporating new elements. Aqrabuamelu and Arachne kin was matriarchal, Nāga were egalitarian/patriarchal. "The council"-- the decision makers for the RSA-- consists of two elected grand matriarchs from the Aqrabuamelu and Arachne kin tribes, as well as the 'Alpha' from the Nāga, typically a male, the Alpha is a battlehardened male who earns the title by beating all others who want to claim the role in a grand tourney. Criminals can sometimes choose to fight in this tourney for freedom.

  • The Nāga are the most militaristic of the tribes. Men are trained as soldiers from birth, women either as maids to pleasure those soldiers, or spies. Their spartan society has given some of the best soldiers and strategists to the world.They provide a much needed battle edge to the RSA. Their gestation takes the absolute longest of any of the tribes, two years, and typically, it is the first hatched right to eat the other eggs in his clutch for nourishment. Meaning one sexually mature Nāga woman can only typically give birth to one baby every two years.

  • Aqrabuamelu like their distant cousin race, the Arachne Kin, are quite different from the Nāga. Aqrabuamelu are probably the most "equal" out of all three official tribes, males, while typically seen in guard or soldier roles, are equal to women, despite the latter holding every position of power in the tribe. While Nāga females might typically become accomplished spies, the Aqrabuamelu are true experts in subterfuge. They specialize in smuggling, stealing, assassinations and all matters stealthy. Their gestation time is that of a normal human, with an average clutch size of 2 or 3.

  • Arachne kin are a practically all female tribe of traders, scientists, writers, Inventors, weavers and craftswomen. The were led by a Grand matriarch and a Broodmother before the Locust wars, they have since become the de-facto leaders of the RSA. Their domination in numbers has always been tempered by a general lack in war prowess, however their newfound power in the RSA senate and council has led the united tribes to rely more on science and trade than war. The broodmother keeps the misshapen male drones in her palace, she can produce an eggsack with 50-100 spiderlings every three months, however only 1/3 of these will survive their first few years of life due to Arachne Kin's weak immune systems.

  • Hybrids are only beginning to grow as a race in their own right, Arachne Kin give them the best treatment out of all the tribes, seeing their potential as ambassadors and public faces. Hybrids have recently begun to rally for seats in the senate and a place in the council.

  • The common religion of the Aqrabuamelu and Arachne kin is The Eight of the Sand, Nāga follow the ways of The Mist.

Pity.

Pity would be what Maria most when the aged veteran made a half-assed attempt at countering the much deserved disciplining he had just received. Not anger at his insolence, she wasn't empathetic enough toward him to feel sorrow, she wasn't particularly enlightened by him or what he had to say either. Still, tradition was tradition, she heard the man out.

"I am not a soldier sweet heart, in fact its been fifteen year since I was one." Maria had figured, guy looked too old. "You think your overprivileged life and your money gives you the power of insight... however when it comes down to it your just as stupid and blind as the rest of us." And yet-- it had been the soldier's failure, perhaps even inability to adapt, possibly simply due to stupidity, that had gotten camps overrun, week in week out. How curious.

"You might want to start getting used to this fact because your words, your money, your so called power don't mean jack shit anymore." And what does retain meaning? Gun power? How very Statist, it's good to know Miss Rand would've agreed with the default government change in the US following a major disaster. "Have a nice day--" Quaint.

"An also if it wasn't for men like me, people like you would be dead by now, so why don't you find a little humility and show some respect. You might think of me as a piece of trash under your shoe... but when the dominoes fall and tumble and are about to crush you, just remind yourself who would be saving your ass." He was a diplomat? A just political, social or cultural leader? A scientific revolutionary striving for progress-- or perhaps an activist for peace? She doubted it.


She left the exchange with a scoff, despite the fact that the 'gentlemen' seemed to ignore many of the valid points she had raised, he obviously had no intention of changing the whole "Shoot 'em as the come!" strategy, she doubted he was going to ask the man-- Luke-- where he needed to go. He wasn't her best bet out of here.

For a while, she aimlessly walked around the camp, thinking of her options-- the three presented to her by the brain-damaged veteran. Permission, fighting, or accompaniment. Each more pessimistic than the last-- several minutes more though, and her seemed to be granting her the beginnings of an idea. What if she were infected? Not really infected, but what if she appeared to be? She could request to be let out, perhaps? They could shoot her on the spot, but would they? The risk was certainly worth taking, staying here was certain death after all.

A bite on her, on someone else-- a soldier-- a sex starved, unsuspecting soldier-- maybe... If she was lucky?

She returned to her tent, Maria was no prisoner, she intended on getting out of this hellhole tonight.
Just think, this is Maria while on her meds.
"You're not going to escape.."

She hadn't even gotten a chance to reply to the melancholy man before the smokey, older voice, startled her from behind. The man, dressed in grunt fatigues, lit a cigarette before he began again, completely ignoring her. Maria took mental notes as the soldier proceeded to berate them as well as examine him. His gray indicated he was older than her, by a few years at least. He was dressed in a similar manner to the rest of the cannon fodder present, though-- were they recruiting mercs? Had the government gotten that desperate?

A few things he mentioned piqued her attention as well, "This place was built to keep people inside, and even more it is meant to keep things out," She agreed with the first part, not necessarily the last. She felt like they were rounded up like cattle, and threatened with death if they tried to escape-- yet since day one news of camps falling across the county-- and the country, they weren't 'good' at what they were doing, they were a little lucky! Keeping people trapped under insane pseudo-martial law is what was getting people killed, they were sitting ducks. And still in all of this, no news from the government. They had been rounded here to die.

"Now lets imagine I requisition a few civilian volunteers or so to help me, would you be willing to accompany me on my recon?" The first logical thing, sensible thing the old cavalry man had said in the growing amount of minutes of her's he had wasted, she gave her best practiced 'grateful smile' as he finished, "If your answer is yet then walk to the gate in twenty minutes, if not then you will have to find your own way out, but remember this... if you intend to go under the cover of darkness remember that its harder to identify someone who is alive or dead with no light."

That last bit was... condescending? It was almost as if the spirit of her mother enveloped her, catching up to the soldier, she let her mind known. "You didn't even ASK where either of us wanted to go! What kind of soldier ARE you? To just go into hostile territory with absolutely no plan? Not assessing our skills? Not telling us what the camp needs so we might be able to perhaps help? Speed up the whole thing-- maybe increase our chances of success? Our fucking names, for Christ's sake? Did ANY of this occur to your small, one-track, proletariat, trigger happy mind!?" Regal birth granted her some height few women shared, she used this to her advantage and looked the soldier directly in his eyes while she scolded him. "Were we in Portugal right now, I'd have you court marshaled on the fucking spot--" She took a guess at his military rank, none the confidence leaving her voice-- "--Captain."

She didn't care about any reactions he might have, she continued her rant, where she was from, this was how you disciplined incompetence and insolence. "Look--" She jabbed a hard finger into his chest, "I was never informed of martial law taking-- I'll take no orders from you." She gave another jab, in the distance she could see the man still resting on the wall, "Whenever our temporary visitor an I decide to leave, we will." Another jab, accompanied with a step forward, she motioned in the man's direction and continued, "Believe it or not," her Iberian accent flared with her anger, "I currently hold the traditionally honorary role granted to a US Ambassador-- I say traditionally, because in times like these, those of major disorder, I retain some executive power." She gave a final jab and another step forward, "Unless you can show me documented members of local government or higher, I plan on using this authority... now."

With this, she walked back to the man against the wall, "If you no longer wish to execute your "recon mission" with civilian assistance-- fine. But just know that I will be leaving once I've got some semblance of a reliable plan to go with." She looked back at the man, a mix between coy, cocky and sexy on her face. "Right, and if you do intend on assisting us, I suggest you use that sword over that gun..." Finishing her walk back to the other man, she added a thought out loud-- "Has no one figured out it's the noise that attracts the infected... two weeks you've been firing those things, and more just keep popping up..."
Mothership Zeta is the best Fallout DLC of all time.

Come at me.
"Pleasure to meet you Kiiro-kun. Its a very ah...happy name. D..do you mind if I call you Kiiro?"

"Don't mind it at all Kimiko." He replied with a grin-- it was amazing! An entire summer spent with either irate customers at the motel or sweet old dogs down at the shelter and he still knew how to talk to students his age! Either he hadn't been giving himself enough credit or those dogs were smarter than he had given them credit for.

He leaned more on the latter explanation, considering it hadn't even been an hour since he last thought of his dogs. Kimiko brought him back into the conversation by reminding him of the question he asked her, by answering it. "Um, well it is a hobby of mine. Its really useful to clear my head, just focusing on the arrow and its trajectory, making sure it hits just right where I want it to...Its just something I've always loved. Though... I really should look into the nurses office first..." He followed her gaze around the classroom, "We really do have a very diverse group of students here. I hope we can all get along throughout the year."

A foreigner, an all-girl yakuza leader, a cursed pre-teen, and a robotic dog. Add in a sex worker and you'd have a red district sideshow... his "diverse" classmates would keep things interesting though, and it wasn't like he was any less 'out there,' he was basically the male Cinderella! Any time that wasn't spent being forced to work was spent with animals waiting for some magic to improve things. "Diverse is certainly one description..." he made the statement halfheartedly, a thought that leaked out loud, Kimiko continued.

"What about you? Are you going to join any clubs?"

She waited for Kiiro's answer, he couldn't help but notice the blue hue of her eyes-- they didn't appear 'fake,' so contacts were out of the question. He had developed a surprisingly good eye for that kind of thing actually, one of the few perks of customer service you could call it, distinct and subtle differences in the eyes. No, those cerulean eyes were definitely natural- they matched her hair too. 'How peculiar...' His mother, in her hippie beliefs, would probably say she was overflowing with water--

'See, this is why people think you're aloof, man!'

Right, the matter at hand. "My Uncle would probably have my head if I didn't..." he said with a chuckle, catching her look of confusion, he continued, "You know, looking good on a University application? I might start a new on, or at least try to, but my thing is definitely photography club, I've been doing that and journalism for as long as I can remember-- it's something about getting an entire story in a single image, you know? Capturing everything, a tragedy or something happy, and making sure everyone knows it, that it's never forgotten. It's definitely something I've become passionate about." A passing thought crossed his mind, he was wearing tinted 'glasses,' he could see her eyes unobscured, but he hid his eyes-- their true color, from her, and the world.

Kiiro was no expert on Freudian psychology, but he couldn't help but think that might mean something? Something repressed? Probably not, that was fucking craaaaaaaazy!

"I can hold a camera, butI doubt I'm precise enough for archery, still, it certainly seems elegant." What would be appropriate to say next? Think! "You guys ever have tournaments? I might need to come and watch sometime."

>Your Courage has greatly increased!
--Tanga & Sweet Dee--

"Come ON." Tanga was obviously frustrated by this point. After a short rest she and Dee had begun the process of finding ways to evolve, the strong Pokemon laughed at her and walked away and weaker Pokemon ran away. Tanga couldn't quite tell the difference between the weak and the strong, to her, it was fear in all of them. It was incredibly annoying.

"..."

"I don't need sarcasm right now, Dee! I need results!" She was pacing between nests at this point, she threw herself on her back, "Won't SOMEONE PLEASE fight me so I can fight them and evolve already?!"

"..."

"Ugh!"
HylianRose said For the sake of this RP, just assume they're like people. 30 is actually middle aged. :PWe want this RP to be super chill and super uncomplicated. So ye.

Vec said oh k. welp i guess i can make him a little older.

Oh, yeah I was going with dog years too, but now that I think about it an 8 year old that want to become alpha is distinctly adorable.
Maria was an extremely wealthy individual, she couldn't say she arrived at this wealth from nothing-- on the contrary, she fully acknowledged her privileged upbringing-- but she also acknowledged that she to work her way up from upper middle class into the top 5% of wealth on American continent. It was a minor annoyance that she had to stop working while some "infection" spread, perhaps the more major annoyance was the fact that the incompetent government of this country of consumers had apparently not made any progress on the development of a cure-- but what was unacceptable was that for the past two weeks she had to share her space with the common rabble, Camp Pendleton. Clearly her money hadn't earned her a more secure haven.

'Absolutely unacceptable...' She muttered to herself, trying to find the proper drone to get her water ration from.
---
24 mg of Invega. Twice the recommended dose for getting rid of hallucinations and delusions, Mother wanted to be sure the symptoms never showed when she was prescribed some 36 years ago and Maria just... kept doing it, perhaps as a way to remember her? Regardless, as she swallowed the pills with a bit of newly acquired water, the realization came upon her that she would either need to find a way to get more pills soon, or lower her dosage.

She left her tent to find someone to discuss this troubling issue with, until--“Fuck you! I said let me go!” What was this? Maria stood aside to watch the exchange.

“We can’t allow you to do that, son.” The two didn't appear to be related, the grunt appeared to raise a weapon to the man. The last time Maria checked, we weren't under marshal law.

“You don’t understand! She’s still out there! She won’t survive on her own! I have to get back to her! I- I could show you just-” Ohhh, cold twist. A Romeo looking for his lost Juliet. The soldiers maintained their breaking of every local, federal, UN, and Geneva law by keeping their guns raised, however.

“Don’t worry kid, we’ll find your friend.”

Maria scoffed, 'In the same amount of time you found Osama Bin Laden, I'll bet...'

After the exchange was over, most of the easily frightened sheep that populated the camp seemed to veer away from the young man. Maria, on the other hand, found herself interested-- and enchanted with the idea of possibly exchanging one hellhole for another. She followed the man, staying a quiet distance behind him, he appeared to be following the wall. Looking for an exit? If so, she could certainly credit the man with diligence. Eventually he stopped though, Maria could just make out the man muttering something as she approached him. Figuring this was not the time for overly formal greetings, she said the thing she knew would attract his attention, "So where do you think she is now?"
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