Dogematix

Gaia's Glory [A Nation RP]

Interested and then some.

Walking the Trail of Stars: Sci-fi 'Western' in Spaaaaace! [Still looking for adventurers, so come on in]

Woops, sorry, missed that part. Will pm the full thing once it's finished.

Walking the Trail of Stars: Sci-fi 'Western' in Spaaaaace! [Still looking for adventurers, so come on in]

Alexander Volkov

Name: Alexander Volkov. Formerly Lieutenant Volkov of 95th Rifles, The Rifle Brigade.

Nationality and Race: Caucasion. British Mother, Russian Father, Born and raised in England.

Age: 25

Sex/Gender: Male

Appearance: A young fellow with a ruddy complexion and sandy blonde hair almost permanently slicked down into a side parting. His mustache is thick, meticulously combed and similarly treated with product to make sure its tips come together in fine points. After all no self respecting gentleman can go without some proper facial hair. His last defining feature, and one he's never shown to anyone close to him, is an ugly red scar that runs across his ribs on the left side of his torso where a laser shot glanced along his side.

Standing an inch or two shy of six feet tall, military life has left Alex with a trim physique and drilled the importance of good posture into his unconscious mind as he often finds himself swinging his arms out slightly as if marching even when on a casual stroll. Though not self conscious about the habit he is trying to break it and actively relax since becoming a full time civilian, putting his hands in his pockets whenever he can and making the conscious effort to nonsensically lean on things.

The smartest clothing Alexander owns is his uniform, the green jacket of the Rifle Brigade. Beyond that he has all the rugged trail clothes that a settler of the stars might need, ready for both scorching heat and freezing cold, thanks to the exhaustive shopping trip his mother took him on once he'd been accepted to go. He still doesn't know why she wouldn't just write down his measurements and go without him but at least he got plenty of socks out of the bargain. His mother had argued to get plenty of items in rich and deep colours but Alex insisted on sticking with earthen tones cream colours, not wanting to dress like a dandy, as if he were above himself. In the end he caved and agreed to get one navy blue shirt, he's saving it for a special occasion.

Equipment wise Alex has brought his titanium shaving kit for himself. Toughened hiking boots and a woodsman's knife for treading those untamed lands. And his Enfield laser long-rifle (old Elly) a memento he was allowed to keep by his higher ups when he set off for the stars.

Personality: Like any true officer and gentleman Alexander holds himself to a very high standard in everything he does. Conducting himself in the 'proper way' whenever he's out in public or around strangers. Some of this is out of a sense of pride instilled in him by the academy but also out of a deep seeded sense of insecurity. Years of dealing with watchful superior officers and staying in the colonies left him acutely aware of how society treated those that differed from what was proper and respectable. Though he tries to act more relaxed now he's on the trail it's only because most people seem to prefer men like that. He tries to emulate his father, trying to seem as if nothing phases him though never quite succeeding, always coming across as too gruff or uptight for his own good. This usually makes him the butt of his sister Isobel's jokes and leaves him without any kind of witty retort beyond “That attitude is why you're still not married.”

That's not to say everything he does is part of an act. When push comes to shove Alex can be as confident and assertive as any man of action. During times of danger or crisis his upper class bluster melts away and a feeling of clarity comes over him as training and education kick in to pay dividends. He'd never admit it but there's a part of Alex that loves the danger of his chosen life, fueled further by his ambition for fame and glory. He doesn't take pleasure in violence when it happens but he never truly grew out of that boyish lust for adventure. If only he didn't have an equal love for home comforts.

It goes without saying that Alex holds his family closely. Literally, he almost never says anything to openly admit a feeling of love towards his relatives, such a thing would be simply unseemly. He assumes his actions speak for him, stepping in to assist his hot headed twin whenever her rebellious streak gets her into trouble. Alex is hoping Izzy will outgrow all this silliness eventually. Hopefully the hardships of the trail will calm her down.

Likes red meat, fine drink, tobacco, a good book and a cup of tea.

Dislikes Spicy food, horribly hot weather, bad language.

Skills, Abilities and Profession: As a former member of the 95th Rifles (The Grasshoppers as some called them) Alexander was trained to have a soldiers discipline. Specialising in sharpshooting and scouting Alexander considers himself the de facto woodsman and hunter among the colonists on his ship. Making sure to keep his rifle well maintained and his boots in one piece he's eagerly awaiting the chance to tame the wild lands of whatever world they come across and bring back a pelt and a pound of star tiger meat.

Alex never took to learning languages the way his sister did, blooming late in life when it came to academics. To his father's dismay he never cared much for the cultural inheritance of his paternal side. These days he remembers little more than some basic phrases in Russian and such was his casual disinterest in the native culture of India that he leanred even less of Hindi in his time there. He could greet people and name some foods at least.

When it comes to literature Alex is more Anglo-centric and focused on works of nonfiction. He's read several books on military history, tactics and the philosophy of war and not just so people would see him looking intelligent, the knowledge he gained there has stood him in good stead and Alex finds discussions on matters moral and philosophical very interesting. He's also still an eager fan of adventure stories and fantastical epics but such things are a secret and guilty pleasure.

Biography: Alex was lucky enough to be born into the upper reaches of society. His mother, the daughter of an aristocrat and his father, a Russian immigrant. Not some poor traveler but a jeweler who's work had set London's high society alight years before. He may have been new money but he had enough of it to bridge the class divide. Alex remembered hearing rumours that his father was a jew but his father always brushed such things off, he doesn't even recall ever meeting a jew.

It came as a surprise to both parents when Lady Volkov gave birth to twins, Alex coming into the world seconds before his non-identical sister, Isabel, making him the older sibling! The two never wanted for anything, their family wealth and reputation opening any door they came across even as the world devoured itself.

As a boy Alex was often of an anxious disposition, finding his confidence in the fantasies that penny magazines about fictional soldiering heroes and military men about the empire. It often fell to Isobel to drag him along with her when it came to real world adventures.

Attending Sandhurst helped instill confidence in him and serving the army hardened Alex's sense of duty. But the officer commission system was not a meritocratic one and Alex quickly learned that progression in his career had more to do with how your superiors saw you rather than skill. The adventure of a soldier's life wasn't quite how Alex imagined it to be. Certainly he found the camaraderie of his fellow cadets and later the younger officers. But there were rivalries among the ranks, and even as a lowly lieutenant the burdens of command could weight heavily on a man.

Despite it all though Alex always found great pride in his placement in the 95th rifles. To him the Rifle Brigade represented the true spirit of soldiering. It may have meant giving up the iconic red jacket of the Empire's military but the green coats were always the first in and the last out. True men, testing themselves against the elements, the wilderness and whatever enemies might stand against them!

Then it turned out he'd been born into a period of peace for the empire as no major powers rose to challenge them directly as he saw his days filled with guarding duty, drills and other exercises. Alex was biting at the bit when the time came for them to head out to India, he was nervous too but these were the edges of their territory, far and exotic lands filled with bandits and treasures! What man wouldn't relish the chance to make his name serving queen and country in such a way? It turned out Alex didn't, because he hated India. It was always so hot, the food was vile and the bizarre customs and superstitions of the locals were just laughable. For goodness sake most of them went around wearing pajamas and the like!

But Alexander Volkov would do his duty, refusing to be found wanting. For the most part their task was to help map the land and guard routes that convoys and columns would use. All in the name of helping Britain expand and solidify her borders. But not all were happy with British rule, some were bandits like in the stories, others were political rebels, there was little difference between them to Alex. It was fighting people like that where he got the scar on his side.

Eventually it was time for Alexander to come home, back to dear old blighty. He never told his family about the wound he took in the line of duty, of the effect it had on him. Of the men he saw die or the ones he killed. He didn't tell them about any of it, always changing the subject back to the more pleasant parts of his time abroad, the elephants, the snake charmers, the fun things.

What hopes he had for a peacful break were swiftly dashed when Alex found out that Isabel had put herself forward to go on one of those damnable ships to the stars! He was fuming at her, livid. Every ship that had left for the star colonies so far had never been heard from again and she was going to go there just to try and make a name for herself with those stupid woman’s journals! Of course he had to come along, someone had to make she she didn't get herself killed out there! Luckily enough the powers that be accepted Alex's aplication to number among the colonists but he wasn't allowed to represent the army out there and so was given his honourable discharge. Alex still hasn't made peace with the fact that he may never see home again but a part of him does hope to earn some fame thanks to his sister's pictures and the exploits they might find out there.

Dependants: Isabel 'Izzy' Volkov, twin sister.

The Rise of the Second Kingdom of Osteria

Well all things considered this had proven to be one of the most amicable competitions for a throne the world had ever seen. The next few days were somehow simultaneously a whirlwind and a ponderous bore. The capital was sent into overdrive and no doubt the other territories were already feeling the emotional ripple of Alaric's rise to the throne but between sending countless letters home and planning to see Enea's affairs Anfel was left to stand around for unseemly amounts of time as old men in clerical robes that were far too big for their withered frames rambled on in a list of countless oaths while choirs of young boys sang on in dead languages. The presentation was superb though, Anfel couldn't deny them that.

So after that handful of days, and the mutliple outfits that were needed for each new occasion they offered, it was time to hold dear King Gyre's first royal council. These were usually a simple matter of routine in times past, talking over tax rates that would never be allowed to change or mustering forces to send south, into the seemingly endless meat grinder of the desert.

This time would be a very different affair though. with new council members being selected, envoys of foreign lands were waiting to greet the newly crowned monarch. Of course before it all started everyone had to make the rounds, saying their good mornings and commenting on how lovely everyone looked, making sure there were still no hard feelings all that transpired over the voting.

Anfel was almost excited about the sudden rise of the new duchess Suran Keto. Finally, another half elf to join her in these meetings of the nobility! And another red head, why people might mistake them for sisters. Anfel had almost talked her ears off when greeting the stoic woman into the meeting, such was her excitement. Indeed, if nothing else she would have to make her greatest mission of the day to make sure Lady Keto agreed to visit her in Stag's Hearth for a week. Perhaps she'd throw a tourney, from what little she'd heard of the woman she was quite militarily inclined. 'What exciting times we live in.' She pondered. It was certainly a great step for fellow mixed raced folk like themselves. Osteria was stepping into the future it seemed.

That would have to wait though. Already everyone was clamoring to make their voices heard as ritual and tradition flipped their new king's early promises on their head. Handy really, if things worked out properly then Alaric could go back on the plans outlined in the choosing. The position of marshal was open and being vied for as those with more knowledge of martial affairs. Anfel wasn't about to interfere with such matters that were so publicly far from her area of expertise. There was something she did care to weigh in on though.

"Excuse me, Your Grace, if I may be so bold." Anfel said once the latest speaker was done saying their peace. She rose from her seat, smoothing out her long flowing skirt and raised her hand as if waving to a fellow lady across the parlor. "But I Should also like to put my name forward for consideration for the position of royal spymaster." She said it almost conversationally. "Of course assuming I am accepted then I shall be happy to take up rooms in the capital and to give half my chartered resources to the crown. I'm more than happy to give a more impassioned speech if that is the expected thing. But to rant about how one would go about managing a colourful bunch like The Wasps in public for all to hear seems to fly in the face of the position I petition for, wouldn't you all say? So if I am to ask my own favour from his majesty then it is to give such reasoning in private, perhaps even after the councils business is concluded. Unless we are all in such a rush you would have me whisper it in your ear here and now but such a thing hardly seems proper." Not for his first day on the throne at least, Anfel thought, taking her seat with a mischievous smirk.

Walking the Trail of Stars - A 'Wild Western' Sci-fi RP

Just to make sure. Having a cyber bear from the not-future Moscow circus is an option here?

The Rise of the Second Kingdom of Osteria

Out of work at last. I'll be able to get a post up and add Anfel's piece in a couple hours.

Walking the Trail of Stars - A 'Wild Western' Sci-fi RP

Well that's helped a character idea take shape right there.

Walking the Trail of Stars - A 'Wild Western' Sci-fi RP

So any ideas for the general setup? Like are we going for a firefly crew right off the bat or will our characters be starting off in their separate walks of life?

Walking the Trail of Stars - A 'Wild Western' Sci-fi RP

Tentativly throwing my cowboy hat into the ring.

The Rise of the Second Kingdom of Osteria

This one one would throw himself in at the deep end it seemed, Alfen smiled to herself as young Lord Gyre laid out his own plans for the future. An inexperienced young man, suddenly thrust into the place of a duke and already aiming for higher places in the world. Inexperienced certainly but then could anyone ever be ready to be king? Already he'd offered some kind of answer that could satisfy each member of this assembly, although Anfel was skeptical of just how openly he'd offered up the place of spymaster. Somehow she always imagined such a thing being more unofficial and... cloak and dagger in delivery.

'To be the official chancellor though.' She thought to herself. That had a nice ring to it.

In most things his plans for the future seemed the same as Aldwyn who she'd hurriedly cast her support behind if only to try and stanch the swiftly mounting support for House Conrad. Support that had collapsed in moments. 'Look at us all, and people trust us to run a country.' It all seemed quite mad under even a little scrutiny.

Yet did she also not put some faith in Aldwyn himself? He had proven himself a worthy duke, a skilled governor and if word was to be believed he was something of an amateur detective.

Yet the only thing they truly did differ on besides was their approach to the southern menace and even then by very little. Both were willing to be swayed by more seasoned generals and Anfel held little doubt that the tactics offered in this meeting would be altered come the next day and even more so when whatever fresh attacks were actually undertaken.

"Well you've each certainly given us all some difficult choices to make." Anfel said quietly at last. "Lord Alaric, you've given an impassioned argument and shown an apt willingness to make use of the skills of others, an applaudable trait in a leader and in one so fresh to power and command. But for me experience must win out over heart. I apologise, Sir, but my support remains with Duke Gerantis." She finished solemnly.

"Though My dears, James and Aldwyn," She added with a mischievous smile, lightly tossing her braid back behind her neck. "I would recommend that should either of you ascend to the throne then then you would be better off bringing Lord Gyre here as one of your advisers, unless you would care to earn my ire before the crown is even on your head." She sipped her wine and gave each of the older two men a mock scowl from over the glass' top.

It wouldn't have done for Anfel to change her vote. It was a close thing between the two dukes that had garnered her favour, a close thing indeed. But she would not have it said that house Allard was a fickle brood, prone to switching their support on a flight of fancy. Or splitting votes wantonly. Still her eyes went wandering and found their way back to Alaric Gyre. There was a lot of potential in that one... however this vote went Anfel didn't doubt she'd be dealing with that one soon after.

(Anfel vote goes to Aldwyn Gerantius)