Current
Ma! The sex roleplayers are being weird in the advanced tab again, Ma!
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4 yrs ago
Stack sats, print gats, distill vats, feed cats
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4 yrs ago
We here at Cyberdine Systems have heard your demands and we answer your cries with "BullyBot". With the push of a button you can now automate all of your cyberbullying. The future is here. Embrace it.
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4 yrs ago
>using the phrase "normie" unironically
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4 yrs ago
They always ask me, "What the fuck are you doing!?" but never, "How the fuck you doing?"
"It will be gritty, 18+, and also meant to be a bit comical or snarky in feel." Hell yeah!
"There will be a lot of sailing, pirates, swashbuckling, and all that stuff, flintlock era, minimal magic, low to mid fantasy." YES!!
"The campaign will be quite extensive, and is only the first of many I intend on doing in the future in the rich realm that I intend to create. " GIMMEGIMMEGIMMEGIMME
Man that took longer than I would've liked but that's the nature of writing on your phone. Here he be, that smug bastard. RPG refuses to let me link the image so I'll go ahead and throw it up in the discord.
Full Name: Jarix Udall
Race: Salarian
Citizenship: Salarian Union, Terminus Systems Empire
Aliases: Agent 9, Oracle "Will also accept 'Your Highness' and other titles of nobility."
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Psych. Eval.: "This interview was taxing to say the least. Jarix treated the entire process like a game (one I'm certain I lost at that). Nevertheless, his record speaks for itself. From what little the STG has disclosed, it is apparent that Jarix is a levelheaded field operator with an extensive record of dependability, fierce loyalty, and unwavering courage. He works extremely well under pressure and is quick to make jokes or use sarcasm. I was admittedly caught off guard when he looked me straight in the eye and told me he'd be happy to tell me all about his "funny adventures" with the STG but he would have to kill me afterward. However, as much as he tried to hide it, there was a slight apprehension when he spoke about his time in the military. Whatever is causing him these negative feelings is likely the reason for his early retirement. Probing further became impossible as he would either deflect with humor or claim the answer would endanger salarian national security.
Beyond that, Jarix is talkative, driven, and extremely self-confident teetering on arrogant. He knows what he knows and he knows a lot about what he knows. His drive to not only meet, but seek out new challenges helped him exceed even the already lofty expectations of his superiors time and time again. A primary example of this behavior is his refusal to use translation software when interacting with most humans and turians. He learned the most common dialects of human and turian space for no other reason than because he wanted to challenge himself and to show off." -Pilak Vin (salarian military psychologist)
Phys. Eval.: Jarix stands at 178 cm (70 in) tall and weighs 170 lbs (77 kg). His coloration deviates from the normal solid colors of most Salarians with a large portion of the front of his torso and face dominated by white while the rest of his skin is mostly earthen browns and dark tans. His frame is thin like most Salarians but with noticeable muscle definition from a lengthy term in military service. Despite his age (for a salarian) he's aged rather gracefully and is still in excellent physical condition.
Biotics: None
Qualifications: The elite skills of the salarian Special Tasks Group are well known throughout the galaxy, but there are those who exceed even these lofty expectations. Jarix is one of those few. He served as a field communications, encryption, espionage, and reconnaissance specialist. The majority of his missions consisted of being dropped as far behind enemy lines as the most suicidal STG officers around would dare to go and then being told to walk a ways further to reach the objective. He was the eyes and ears of an entire army placed where the enemy least expects to be seen and heard. He was the fly on the wall for the talks behind closed doors, the eyes in the dark watching your every move to find your weaknesses. His job for several years was to go where no else would or could, and secure intelligence that could change the course of a war.
The specifics of his work during the Neo-Krogan Wars are heavily classified (much like the majority of what the STG does), but the sheer volume of glowing reviews from fellow STG operatives speaks volumes about the quality of his work and the level of his skills. These same people could easily be persuaded to pull a few strings in his and the team's favor should the need arise.
History: Jarix was a smart youngling from the very start. Even by salarian standards he thought quickly on his feet and was an excellent problem solver. He was right on track to become a very successful telecommunications engineer when a Salarian military recruiter approached him with tales of glory and a hefty sign on bonus. Jarix turned his back on a steady, relatively cushy job and took the plunge, not regretting it even for a moment. He rose swiftly through the ranks and demonstrated his talents again and again exceeding all expectations so it was no surprise when he joined the STG. His career was closely watched from early on by his superiors.
Jarix was directly involved in numerous key victories on the coalition's behalf and served with distinction. Then, all at once, he retired seemingly out of nowhere. Just when his career was reaching its zenith, he left not only the STG, but the salarian military as a whole. He went so far as to leave salarian space altogether and apparently dropped off the face of the entire galaxy for more than two years. That is, until recently when he made an appearance in the heart of the Terminus Systems Empire.
As it turns out, Jarix had spent most of the time since he dropped off the grid on Omega training slum dwellers in self defense and small unit tactics against larger, better equipped forces. The Blue Suns were not amused to receive hot lead in their face where they were used to getting "protection" money. Several incidents of mercenary squads being almost wiped out by slum dwellers with dime store pea shooters lead to an investigation which lead back to Jarix. Can't have anyone getting any ideas so they intended to make an example of this upstart Salarian. The mercenary band put a bounty out on him: 80,000 credits alive or 35,000 dead. Unfortunately, he's proven rather difficult to put down as that bounty was put out over a month ago and started at 40,000 credits. As impressive as evading the Blue Suns and bounty hunters is everybody slips up eventually; everyone makes mistakes. It's only a matter of time before they catch up to Jarix.
Inventory & Logistics: Jarix's time on Omega has left him to fend for himself, but he's no stranger to being out manned, out gunned, and without supplies. His inventory appropriately reflects this.
Notoriety: 7 Despite the best efforts of the STG, rumors and hushed whispers have spread the word about their activities within salarian space and without. On top of this, his antics on Omega have gained him the notice of more than a few connected people in the Terminus Systems.
Misc.: Jarix has always been fascinated with the extent to which humans take the practice of tattoos and other body markings. His arms are marked with flowering jungle vines native to Sur'Kesh that wraps around the entirety of both arms and stops just above the wrists. His upper back is dominated by an ornately decorated wheel with 12 spokes. In the center of his chest is the symbol of the STG done in red ink. On his right thigh is a stanza from a Turian poem about honor, duty, and personal sacrifice.
Jarix also enjoys Quarian folk music and has a few playlists stored on his omnitool.
[Blasts from the Past]: Yes please. Hit me with that good shit.
Clive jumped back as the creature revealed its true self. His stone-faced fisage cracked as his eyebrows raised slightly and he gave a quiet, "Well shoot." He put some distance between himself and the not-so-lovely couple and back pedaled a few steps, fists up and ready as he waited to see what would come of this transformation. Something ugly, something real ugly and new to him. It almost reminded him of a skunk ape he'd tangled with a few years back near Lake Okeechobee down in Florida (minus the smell, thank the Almighty). The prospect of trying to do the same this beast hand to claw sent a chill down his spine Even still, he had already taken his first step forward, fully ready to bring his combatives training to bear, when a bottle crashed against its hide.
Clive jumped back once more to avoid touching any droplets of whatever Val had thrown. You can never be too careful with magic. He was grateful for the distraction as it gave him an opening to lunge for his duffle bag. He nearly broke the compression straps as he tore it open and plunged a hand inside, retrieving a knife as long as his forearm wrapped in a worn leather sheath. This he tucked into his belt and went to work taking care of the gathered airport security. Two were still trying to get their feet under them when Clive's fist caught the first of them across the chin in a running sucker punch. The man spun a full circle before crumpling to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Clive snatched the taser and pepper spary from the guard's belt and wielded them akimbo like a non-lethal Rambo. A guard to his right seized when 50,000V ripped through him and let out a rather unmanly shriek as he pitched forward while another on the left swore with all the colors of the rainbow as he wiped at his burning face with his sleeve. Not wasting a second, Clive returned to the first guard's belt and retrieved both pairs of handcuffs.
He felt a pang of nostalgia as he tackled the man shouting obscenities at him and cuffed his hands behind his back; followed suite by his coworker. There was a brief moment where Clive stopped and considered how strange his life had become over the last decade. Things were simpler when he was tracking down people doing regular, albeit horrific, crimes. He shook himself out of his reminiscencing and snatched up his duffle bag before returning for his gun cases on the ruined luggage belt. The hardcase was discarded as he all but slapped a magazine into his pistol, pocketing the other two, and tucked the pistol into his waistband. The shotgun he unceremoniously tossed into his duffle. He stood back up just in time to get hit by a half-eaten salad from Mael's trashcan antics. Clive spun on his heel and felt his heart leap into his throat as he saw a denizen of the lower circles of Hell just a stone's throw away. It took active concentration on his part to not draw and mag dump into the abomination that he assumed was the Frenchman. "Dear Lord," Clive muttered to himself as he brushed some lettuce out off his jacket.
Ordinarily it wouldn't be hard for him to slip away, steal a car, and be on his way. Unfortunately, he was now part of a team and that meant no one gets left behind. Teams also have leaders that direct them and that person was obviously Eleanor. He made his way back to her and gestured at the chaos around them. "So what's the plan, ma'am?"
Clive relives his glory days as a police officer for a moment and gathers up his luggage.
First off, massive apology for disappearing into the abyss like that. I just got out of Army bootcamp 2 days ago and it's been a bit hectic. Realized I forgot to let everyone know what was happening about a week after they collected our phones.
If y'all are still interested, I'm down to pick this back up again. We're in AIT now and get way more privileges like warm water, getting to eat real food, and having our phones.