@Guy0fV4lor. You don't have to feel like a dick. You were giving a valid reminder of the rules. I was approved through private messages, as it happens. However, if a copy of Skrik's CS in the OOC would help to avoid any further confusion then I would be glad to put one there as well.
After all, I'm coming into this as a brand new character in the mid-game after you all have been active for 4 months (real time). I'll roll with what I need to.
Appearance: Skrik’s eyes and smile are more vicious than the average goblin. Combined with his lanky figure, red-gold eyes, and preference for very tight places, he is one creepy looking goblin, even among goblins.
Personality: Being betrayed by his best friend in his past life has had an effect on his thinking. He accepts the possibility of treachery and murder, unknowingly becoming more likely to kill other goblins as a result. However, he is still undecided as to whether or not he will be loyal to his own kind. He has a strong sense of need, knowing that everyone needs something and that the one who can provide what is needed has power over the one with the need. Thus, he will always seek to understand the motivation behind the actions of people and creatures. However, this does not help him with a deep seated loneliness that lurks deep within him.
He is also very visceral, being strongly influenced by his physical senses and susceptible to certain social forms of manipulation. He enjoys his food and drink more than most as well as the moment of the kill and the taste of fresh blood.
Past Life History: Studying to become a doctor while working with livestock on a farm can make for an inspiring story… so long as it doesn’t end with your best friend luring your out into a fallow field to beat you to death with rebar because he thought you were looking at his girlfriend too closely.
Skill: Butcher’s Insight: Heightened ability to find vital points, predict movement based on physiology, and get the most out of a carcass.
PILOT Name: Ryan Lungfirst Age: 38(15-65) Height: 5’10” Weight: 148 lbs Pilot Class: Sky Warrior Nationality: “Alaskan” Appearance: Brown eyes so dark as to seem almost black stare piercingly from beneath red eyebrows speckled with white. Beneath them squats a wide nose atop a mustache and beard that make the mouth all but invisible, for all that the beard stops only an inch below the chin. Above it all is a high, and slightly receding, hairline with a slightly golden sheen breaking up its dusky blonde. This is the face of Ryan Lungfirst, pilot of the “Long-Dive” and skilled evader of major trouble.
His body isn’t that impressive though, a little thin but muscled with a farmer’s tan. His fingers and toes are a little long and he stands at a modest 5’10”. Fashion isn’t his strong suit and he is rarely seen in anything other than either a black or gray flight suit and dusty brown work boots, unless he broke out his mechanic’s coveralls.
Bio: Lungfirst was born to a farming family in southern Illinois. However, the town was raided and most of the residents were sold as slave labor, his family included. While most of his family were sold to settlements in various states throughout the Northwestern states, he was still small enough that onen of them wanted him. Eventually, he was sold to a bandit gang in southern Alaska in exchange for a few small boxes of cheap ammo. After a few years, he earned full membership by shooting a spy from a rival gang. Unknown to him at the time, the leader of his gang was watching when he pulled the trigger.
The spy died slowly from the gunshot wound to a lung as the young Ryan felt no need to waste additional bullets on a dying enemy. The gang leader gave him the name Lungfirst and full membership in recognition of his instinctive ruthlessness. He began to learn quickly, everything that he could learn as a full member. That gang survived for several more years before they suffered a series of catastrophic failed raids.
As Lungfirst was talented and efficient with maintenance and repair work he was too valuable to risk on raids. This was how he survived. As time went on, he was passed from one bandit squadron to another as they were killed in the continual infighting that ravaged the Alaskan wilderness. He loaded and maintained the bush planes that saw most of the tiny skirmishes over the interior of Alaska. Kept alive by virtue of his skills, he moved from one area to another with whoever he served. It didn’t hurt his survival odds that he wasn’t loyal to any one boss, they all understood that he was out to survive. But eventually, after dodging death most of his life and getting through puberty without giving girls much thought, he found himself besotted with an engineer working with a local military wing based out of an old Air Force Base. He waited until the right moment, when his current boss was going to die in another ill-conceived raid, and joined the military for the most cliché of reasons.
She was smart and driven. She also couldn’t care one bit about the up and coming recruit of questionable loyalty. Still, she needed a test pilot for their latest tech resurrection program who could actually understand what was being tested. That was how Test Pilot Lungfirst ended up behind the stick of quite a few exotic and experimental planes. He played a part in stabilizing the interior of Alaska by using his rapidly developing piloting skill and well-honed mechanical insight to perfect the planes that decided many fights and annihilated numerous bandit gangs. Unfortunately, the higher ranking officers decided that he knew too much and had become too important. They planned an accidental retirement for him, post-mortem medals included.
The plan involved the engineering girl of his dreams finally showing him some interest and leading him right into the trap. But, a boy raised by bandits is no stranger to betrayal. The change in his crush’s behavior was too much to be believed. When that test flight started he went up with a full load instead of the minimal supplies that were scheduled. After sticking around at low altitude long enough to test the alternate console arrangement that was the subject of the test and remove the bomb that was under his seat and drop it out the side of the canopy, he climbed up to his plane’s maximum safe altitude, picked a direction and kept going.
A couple lucky engagements and some mercenary and courier work kept him flying and allowed him to cross vast stretches of sky with only a few close calls. After all, there were very few planes that could even get to his altitude, never mind being able to fight or dodge once there. It helped his odds that he was able to maintain and upgrade his plane as he went, though he was careful not to return to Alaska. The plane that he fled with was far from cutting edge, though the line models being produced back there were heavier with either scanning equipment or heavy bomb loads. Neither could get within ten thousand feet of the altitude that Lungfirst prefers without dropping all their gear unless they wanted to stall.
After almost a decade of this roving life he finally developed a reputation for getting jobs done, consistently and safely. It was a rare kind of reputation for anyone who flew the turbulent skies. This rare reputation was likely the only reason why he received a job offer from a legendary ace. Ryan almost rejected the offer. The prospect of working with a dogfighter added an element of risk to the job that was usually past his go-no go threshold. But, the prestige he would gain by working with this particular man could prove to be well worth the danger. Besides, stability was good for business and war wasn’t.
Theme Song: (optional)
PLANE:
Name: XB-35-M4 “Long-Dive” Description: This model was designed for testing various sets of modular equipment and extended flight initially. Lungfirst's subsequent modifications include numerous features including targeting sensors in the fuselage that allow the acquisition of missile locks at significant range without altering the Long-Dive's orientation or costing it altitude. Plane Type: Prop Flying Wing Extra Aircraft Notes: Designed for extreme altitude, efficiency, and precision, this plane can hold its altitude for 38 hours and is equipped for mid-air refueling. However, its armor is concentrated on its belly, tail, and nose with the upper fuselage left more vulnerable. Long-Dive typically holds an altitude where the thinness of the atmosphere makes dogfighting all but impossible, even for the planes that can reach it without stalling.
Weapons Descriptions: -One Nose mounted Minigun -20 Unguided rockets divided between two launchers, one beneath the Minigun and one in the rear center fuselage. -4 Air-Ground missile launchers in the wings. -2 Ammo Pods on the upper fuselage loaded with replacement missiles for his launchers. -2 Air-Air missile launchers that fire half-sized twin-detonation homing missiles. Each missile is either EM or Heat Seeking, fired alternately. (If the target breaks off and achieves a relative position that approximately flanks the missile then it fires a ring dispersal shower of bomblets. If the target remains ahead of it then the missile will attempt to collide with the target, detonating a shaped charge with high armor piercing capability. If the missile suffers damage it will align with its target and detonate both systems simultaneously.)
Weaknesses: unarmored upper fuselage and very limited agility Past Encounter: (Optional, give a description of a note-worthy mission/battle/adventure that this Frame has been on)
I'm thinking about joining. I have some new ideas to play with along with my XB-35. I haven't been able to find my old character records so I'll have to start fresh on that score.
I'm not dead either... just... half-dead. RL is sucking all my strength out of me!! Then again, I'm actually gaining quite a bit of muscle... and a farmer's tan. Still... no internet at the house really kills my ability to rp. I understand the season ending... but I always hate being part of the dead crew.
Well, if I one day get internet at the house then I may come back and roleplay... but that could be months/years at this rate. So... until then... Have fun you crazy/cool/creative people!
I'm not sure if I'm hungry or if what I'm hearing is the fat lady singing... so... I guess I'll get earplugs and a snack.
Sorry for the doublepost. I just posted in the IC. @Haeo, I hope I did Vern justice. I decided to cut the night short so that we can both move along with the time skip. To everyone else, I'm opening Shizuka up for on-campus interactions later in the day. Not enough students spend enough time at the school, ya slackers.
You handled him well, thank you. I only have a few minutes of internet access but my family survived the move! Yay! I'll try to check back in again when I can... I live outside town... on the far side from the library... and I haven't found any net-café type places yet.
Vern can just operate in the background if that would be easier. A slowly developing relationship could be easily done with hints and subtext. It's another option since I'm still so... difficult to contact.
Bah... Finally managed to squeeze a post out of my few minutes and it's in the wrong time zone...
@Stern Algorithm Sorry for the massive wait. I'm moving and things sped up really fast. We're actually leaving tomorrow morning and the house we're going to might not have internet for awhile. So, I'm hereby giving you permission to play Vern in the interim. I'll try to get in touch when I can.
Now she headed into the kitchen and looked around, impressed by the care Vern seemed to take in it. First she found a bag of rice, pouring some out into a pot she found, filling the pot with water and began boiling it to make porridge. She took out some salt, pepper, and vinegar, and looked for some light foods like pickled vegetables to go with it. She also took out an egg that she would poach in the porridge right before the porridge was ready.
Shizuak wandered between the kitchen and Vern, alternating between checking up on him and the meal she was preparing.
A warm touch. A soft sound. Vaguely familiar footfalls coming closer, then drifting away again. His dream was full of these things. They were everywhere. The great stage where he stood, waiting for the spotlight, waiting for the show to begin, was surrounded by a crowd of waiting people. Faceless and silent in the dark, they stood waiting for the show along with him. It seemed like they would wait together forever.
Drip.
Drip drop.
The first few drops of rain soon became a low hiss like steam from a kettle. The stage was covered in water. The crowd dissolved and was replaced by fog that rose and thickened.
It smelled like tea and porridge. A thought in words skated across the mind that couldn't remember their meaning. "I have strange dreams."
Vern's eyes opened. He looked at the ceiling, his ceiling. This was the ceiling that belonged to his bedroom. He didn't remember coming here. His arm felt weird. Oh, it was up. But he couldn't feel his forehead with his hand. Odd. There was something in the way, something warm. A hand that wasn't his?
Memories trickled back into his consciousness. He had been getting tea. He wasn't alone.
"Shizuka?" He whispered, surprised at the weariness in his voice. It almost sounded like it belonged to someone else. He turned his head to make sure. Yep, it looked like he had been put to bed by his pretty employee, probably after dropping on the kitchen floor like a sack of flour. And, he was holding her hand. He must have grabbed it while she was checking his temperature. If he wasn't so numb with fatigue, he would have been horrified. As it was, he just let go and put his arm back down at his side. "Sorry." He whispered. "I was going to make you tea. Some host I've been."
Tailpin wasn't one to miss details. But, a leader who recovers quickly is often better than one that never struggles. The archer's smile was genuine. Delcastle just kept impressing him more, a little at a time. This man hadn't lost his head or lost focus, even when the number of worries kept rising.
"Discovery function." Tailpin muttered as he accepted the items and called up his skill list with a few swift movements of his fingers. He raised his voice to a proper level for conversation as he returned his menu screens to the void and took a place walking beside Delcastle. "Toxic coat will be handy on this raid. This other... will be very situational. Elemental damage is very, very hard to find on this floor, or so I hear. Though, I do have some minimal skill in fletching so experimenting can be done cheaply. We'll need to start keeping an eye out for components that could have an elemental attribute after Refining. Those could become absolutely critical in the long run."
Tailpin made no reply to being called a genius. If anything, he just seemed to get a little more stiff in his manner. It wasn't anything in particular that he could recall, he just never could manage to receive a compliment. Still, he did accept that he had accomplished something of benefit to the guild and all the players in SAO. So, stiff as he seemed, he still had a small smile as the two exited the town and proceeded toward the gorge.
Smart couldn't help but smile as his old friend made a classic scene out of waking up. The man was practically a germophobe, not that he'd ever admit it willingly. But, the smile didn't last that long. There were serious matters to discuss.
Smart began with a meticulous report of what he had learned, continued with the message he sent to Scarlet, and finished with the possible costs and benefits involved in the various options before them. In short, he was dry and lawyerlike and monotone all at once. He didn't even toss in a single insult. When that part was done, he finally relaxed a little and started talking more normally again.
"So, it looks like we can do one of four things. First, the totally impossible one because we'd kill ourselves before ever doing this. We could walk away from both the raid and Scarlet and leave everybody to fend for themselves." He let out an abrupt snort of derision before continuing. "More possibly, but still not ideal, we split up. Grandpa goes with Scarlet to make sure that nothing goes terminally wrong and I head into the raid dungeon to make sure that she gets what she needs, no matter how stupid her party leader is that day. The other options are, of course, us going together to either the raid or the lifeguard job." With those options laid out, Smart finally expressed what he was hoping for. "Of course, if Scarlet shares the information I sent her with her party, there' s a possibility that they might head to the gorge and try to join up with the raid. If that happened then it wouldn't matter if we split up or not since we'd end up in the same place."
Just then a ping informed him that he had a message. A swipe of a boney finger and a quick skim later and Smart stood up.
"That was from Delcastle. The call is out for anyone interested to meet at the gorge. Decision time, Dom. What's your word on this?"
Red Gypsy