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Star Wars: Revanchism [Sheets]

Onsole

Character Sheet

Name: Onsole
Species: Human/Cyborg
Age: 17
Rank/Title: Computer Liaison Officer
Planet of Origin/Birth: Coruscant
Force Sensitive Y/N: N

Appearance:

Skills/Abilities/Talents/Training:

- Enhanced intelligence/information processing
- Able to connect with, then mentally interface with computers/droids
- Gifted Slicer
- Long-range ballistics training
-

Flaws/Weaknesses:

- Person/s in charge of the regiment has access to a remote with the capability to override Onsole's will and force him to carry out orders unquestioningly.
- Headset had been known to glitch out or malfunction
-

Equipment:

- Long Range Blaster Rifle- fitted with ascension gun
- Lubricant Gun (it's a thing)
- Thermal detonators
-

Psych profile:

Onsole is a bit of a mish-mash, on the one hand he goes about life with a very cold calculating logic, but on the other he's still a very young man and has a repressed idealism and emotion about him. For example Onsole wouldn't dream of acting on a gut instinct and considers 'sensing the force' to be nonsensical at the same time though he maintains a very childlike awe of the Jedi order, seeing the monks as almost mythical figures.

Spending such a long time talking with computers has left Onsole a bit socially awkward and he can come across as stiff or very OCD in his habits. The computer liaison officer be very talkative and rambling while paying little attention to those listening and their boredom of subjects he finds fascinating.

History:

Onsole was born Carson Sol and from a young age, everything he'd done he'd done for his sister. There mother was a dancer in many of the local canteens on Coruscant and from quite a young age he found he had little respect for her instead he seemed to focus all his affections on his baby sister whom he hoped might someday lead a better life.

Soon Onsole began taking any work he could get and depositing a large amount of the credits he made into an account that one day he hoped to present to his younger sister as a way out. His own way out came unexpectedly when the Republic military began an open recruitment program for cyborg computer liaison officers. Onsole's plan was to spend the bare minimum time in the military before leaving and using his enhancements to find a more lucrative line of work, the war caught him by surprise.

As quite a single minded boy to begin with Onsole took well to the computer headband he was fitted with and was mesmerised by the feeling of having his mind expanded. In combat scenarios he found his method of coping with the extreme pressure of the situation was to try and distance himself from it and look at things from a purely mathematical perspective, he's found it far from perfect.

Recently Onsole has been secretly delighted with the chance to fight alongside members of the Jedi order to which he idolised in his youth.

Relationships and Acquaintances:

N/A (though might be cool to have him as like an assistant to Traest or something like that)

Steel Warrior Academy: A Mecha School RP Signups and Interest Check

That's np, just testing the waters, give it an edit in a bit.

Steel Warrior Academy: A Mecha School RP Signups and Interest Check

Name:[B/] David Gulliver
[B]Age: 14
Gender: M
Appearance:

Personality:
David is someone you might describe as 'on-edge', he has quite a twitchy disposition, a slight nervousness about him and a habit of over-reacting, not to mention a bit of a temper. He's an intelligent guy, generally quite good for thinking up out-of-the-box solutions. Dave seems to pick things up naturally enough though he is definitely a pessimist in life, and shows it in his less upbeat moods.
History:
Dave Gullivan grew up wanting to become a computer programmer, a cushy life that he enjoyed far away from anything militaristic, when the war started though his father had other plans. A sharp contrast to the intellectual David, his father was a physical, proud sort of man, he signed his son up to Tsukino-Danvers Academy to learn how to pilot an mech and also put him into use some of the test variant D4 MF's so he could be the best he could be. Much to David's dismay.

Mechanical Frame: UEG D4 known as 'Whirlygig'.

Several months after Kantaku was retaken, the remains of what appeared to be a four-armed Mechanical Frame were discovered in the ruins of a factory; worried that the Fiefdom had developed a new advancement in MF the UEG did their best to reverse engineer the tech and rolled out a line of their own variants. The resulting D4's off-balance, poor accuracy and difficulty to control meant they saw little success and were not developed further, however some are being offered to new trainees in the hopes that learning the D4 from scratch may yield better results.

Appearance:

Spoiler

The D4 has two modes, one where its four arms are connected as two for better accuracy if slower aim, the second where it detaches into four separate arms each used independently. The other unusual feature is that the torso of the Mechanical Frame is able to swivel on top of the legs for quicker reactions.
Weaponry:
Whirligig generally uses two bolt rifles, a grenade launcher and a laser rifle, though it's often swapped out with a variety of wieldable guns.

Game of Thrones - A Song of Ice and Fire

Edit: Time to get CSing

Game of Thrones - A Song of Ice and Fire

If you'd asked me earlier on in the rp I definitely would of picked option two as it does seem like an awesome concept. As it is I'm now invested in this story/characters but I can't help but worry things at the moment just aren't going anywhere, I think these Rp's work best when there's a big event to kick things off for people to react on rather than a sandbox starting during peacetime. Argh, this is a tough decision.

Yeah, screw it lets go with option two. Giving each of the great houses independence will make for a really interesting rp rather than coming up with various reasons for them to act independently and the setting just invites the right kind of political rp we want. Even if I have to agonize over character creation once again.

Game of Thrones - A Song of Ice and Fire

Sisterton burned. The air was filled with smoke and the screams of smallfolk as angry sea-men ran rampant, looting, raping and murdering, not always in that order. Amidst the carnage Jonos Sunderland sat in what remained of The Bloated Whale, once a reputable establishment for disreputable characters, now a charred-out wreck. He was sipping a bowl of sister-stew, the taste was bitter-sweet.

No-one trusted a Sisterman, it was a sad truth brought about from a lineage of pirates turned crooked-lords. Jonos supposed if he declared his hair to be brown men would swear he'd dyed it and he'd heard a dozen lords had turned cloak when the sisters joined Blackfyre's cause. Only a madman would burn his own holdings though. You'd have to steal quite a bit of gold to justify destroying your largest port, Jonos wiped a blot of stew from his stubble with a webbed finger. How many eyes does lord Bloodraven have? A thousand eyes and one. The saying sent shivers running up his spine.

He'd had his first whore here when he was but one-and-four, over in the corner next to the now smashed in window. Jonos had taken her over the table like some dog, he remembered it like it was just yesterday, the whoots and cheers of his 'uncles', a collective term he used for those raised and advised him after his father died, pirates and smugglers all. He'd met many a good man in the belly of the Bloated Whale, a number of which were being slaughtered outside at that very moment, some part of him felt the old tavern deserved a final farewell.

The sound of nearby fighting made Jonos shrink behind the counter before the combat ended with a sharp yelp and the sound of someone slumping down the side of the building, the Sisterlord felt a pang of guilt. Of course he'd done everything he could to get people out beforehand, fishing expedition, markets elsewhere, but saving too many would of caused suspicion which would of defeated the purpose of it all. You're playing a dangerous game here lad, his fathers voice played through his mind, Jonos was not the first Sunderland to have dreams above his station.

Next to the broth was set a roll a parchment, upon which was a plea to the king, or whoever it was truly ruled Westeros. The Sisters had been caught at unawares against a foe that was larger than them, the Black-dragon had risen once more. It was as much a warning as it was a request for aid. If things went to plan then no-doubt a hundred similar letters would be making their way to Kings-Landing within the fortnight, the grand tourney had caught most of Westeros' attention, with luck Jonos Sunderland would be the only one to report any eventual success against the raiders, the meagre fleet of the Sisters and its very capable lord would of course be at the crowns disposal.

Jonos downed the last of the stew, rolled up the parchment and donned his cloak, it was past time he left. The Bloated Whale was no more and with it a part of him ceased to be, for the first time in his life he wanted something more than just whores and drink and he had the means to get it. He turned his back on the pub and his old life. Outside was chaos, bodies, fire and blood all done in his name, well, in Blackfyre's name, a final 'fuck you' to Bittersteel for dragging his family onto the wrong side. Jonos sighed uneasily, he was no true lord, a man raised by pirates and disreputable sorts, but his son he decided must be something more, for that the people of Sisterton and a score of others need pay with their lives.

---

Mace was a little young to be commandeering a pirate-fleet, but if his father had taught him anything over the past few days, you wanted something you had to take it.

"Hold her steady!" The bastard shouted out to his first mate, careful to make sure his voice didn't crack, he had a lot to prove to these men and didn't want to seem like some green-boy. Right now he should of been half-way across the narrow sea, carrying a cargo Jonos Sunderland valued more than all the gold in Casterly Rock, his trueborn son; the brat hadn't stopped crying the whole journey, who new babies could be seasick?

Mace Stone turned from the stow and headed below deck, he made sure to give grim nods of approval to the crewmen he passed, he was young aye, but he'd seen more in his short-life than most grey-beards in all their years, he knew he had nothing to prove to this lot. Mace had been a gutter rat most of his life before coming to live with his father, leadership was new to him but he found he enjoyed it, hopefully this wouldn't end in mutiny.

Within the dank captains cabin was a lone cot, the mewling squelch that lay inside had only been alive a few weeks but already Mace was intensely jealous of it. Jonos was starting a war for that, something that shit itself every other hour, Mace wasn't trueborn but he'd always been loyal to his father, a true son, even if Jonos had never been a real father to him.

"I could end you right now." Mace murmured softly to his half-brother. "Snap your little neck and this would all be over, dad would go back to normal and I'd be his only son." He knew that wouldn't be the case though, Jonos would hunt him to the ends of the earth, blood or no. The little squirt just stared back at him big-blue-eyed and stupid. "Fuck.You."

Jonos trusted him though, that thought stayed with Mace, His son needed to be kidnapped by the Golden company in order for his father to justify his conviction to the cause, the only person he trusted to take him away was Mace. It was oddly comforting, also irritating that it landed him with the thing he hated most in the world right now.

A cry of 'land' from above broke Mace's chain of thought and he quickly scrambled to get above deck. His father would be furious when he found out what Mace was doing, but he hoped the lord might also be impressed, his bastard might not be so easily disregarded after this, Mace thought as he climbed the stairs. Taking command of this portion of the fleet had been almost too easy, if you acted confident enough people just seemed to accept whatever you said and of course it was important to remember all of these men were motivated soley by greed. He'd announced to the group of captains that Jonos had an especially lucrative raid in mind for them, they weren't told with the others so as not to sow dissent, they ate it up. Now here they were about to bring fire and blood to-

"Arbor's two miles out ahead!" Came the cry from the crows-nest.

Mace smiled.

Game of Thrones - A Song of Ice and Fire

Wedge! Good to have you back.

@Squrmy: Sorry man i started writing an intro that turned into a prelude post :P ill get that up tonight and drop you a line.

Game of Thrones - A Song of Ice and Fire

The Sister Isles, Wetwalls

A boy... The thought rolled across his mind struggling to find a grip. Jonos Sunderland's meagre hall was filled with smugglers, pirates and slavers, a colourful mix of men who would most likely find their way to the dungeons in any other keep, but Wetwalls was not any other keep. Jonos had practically been raised by such men, any lordly feelings of superiority had long since evaporated when he became one of them. Not that he trusted any of the people before him further than he could spit them, that was a lesson he'd learnt a long time ago, but he understood them at least and for now that suited his purposes.

"My lords." Jonos spoke out to the assembly with a healthy dose or irony, the muttering and swearing that naturally accompanied such a crowd ebbed away as attention was focused onto the grotty little man, words seemed to stick in his throat though. Not a fortnight past he had become a father. A little boy he'd called Tristan and the child had changed his life more than other person.

"Why have you called us here Sisterman?" Bellowed Galfar Salahn, considered by many to be the finest pirate of the summer isles, he was covered in elaborate jewelled feathers and was as fat as he was gaudy, next to him Jonos looked drab in his faded longcoat with unshaven attire and he was meant to be the lord. He quirked his eyebrow at the pirate, letting Galfar's words hang for a moment.

"You all think you know me." Jonos said at last, strolling into the center of the damp hall. "Jonos Sunderland, feckless, impulsive and scheming." He had to string this along, many here had a taste for theatrics. "You don't." It had been no easy task assembling all the regular visitors to the Sisters into one place; half hated each other, many owed debts on these islands and to a man they considered themselves lone-wolves. But there was one thing that would unite them all, the promise of gold. "I'm a new man and I've started to think bigger."

"Good fer you." Said Gribb, a greasy one-eyed smuggler from Crackclaw. "But I don't give a flying fuck." Perhaps the theatrics were just for Jonos. "Why we here?!" Jonos relented and gestured to the large table in the centre of the damp hall, across it lay a map of Westeros.

"Half the smugglers in Westeros pass through my islands." Jonos tossed a piece of sour-leaf into his mouth and chewed as he spoke. "With them comes news from all over the kingdom, like my own little spynetwork." He stuck a grubby webbed finger onto where the Iron-Islands were marked. "Word is the Kraken is planning something. Not sure what, not sure when, but its got all the great houses pissing themselves. Lannister, Redwyne, Stark, they're all bracing for an attack from the west." Lord Sunderland grinned, the sour-leaf turning his teeth blood-red. "So we're going to raid them from the east" There was a pause, then the room erupted.

It was a good fifteen minuted before Jonos managed to wrest attention back from the arguments, insults and the odd threat thrown his way, few people could make a racket like a horde of angry seamen. He knew on some level he had at least piqued their interests though, even if the plan as it stood was foolhardy they'd at least hear him out.

"Most lords be attending a tourney in Gulltown," Jonos spat on the map to indicate the city the Arryns were currently staying at. "so naturally we're avoiding that like the pox, any other port is fair game though. If we can hit enough places quickly enough it will throw them."

"What then?" Gibb barked. "They be hunting for pirates and smugglers, first place they gonna look is here. The one eyed man stared intently at Jonos as if it would add to his point.

"Even if they don't." Cut in Galfar. "The attention this will draw to our kind...We could never operate in Westeros again." The fat Summer-Islander had a frown written across his face but Jonos could tell from his eyes that the man was intrigued on some level, they all were.

"Trust me," Jonos grinned, his reddened teeth taking on a menacing aura. "They won't be looking for us here, or the Whispers, or the Stepstones or any other hideout, we can just melt away. And if my plan succeeds? None of you will ever have to worry about the Kings-Justice ever again." Jonos had ruled the Sisters since he was but one and four, lord of his own little kingdom of brothels, pubs and any other illicit activity one cared to think of. But that was no longer enough, he wanted to leave his son another kind of legacy...

"When we raid across the narrow sea I want every ship to be hoisting this flag:" He reached into his long-coat pocket and pulled out a roll of cloth unfurling it across the table, the sigil on it was a black spear with yellow skulls hanging from it. That of the Golden-Company.