Avatar of KzkSkippy
  • Last Seen: 10 yrs ago
  • Joined: 10 yrs ago
  • Posts: 60 (0.02 / day)
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    1. KzkSkippy 10 yrs ago

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Bio

I'm a man for one, let's clear that up. You may encounter me playing outside my gender, just as you may see me playing outside of my race, religion or political leanings. That's why it's called roleplaying. I find it a lot easier to avoid the classic trap of playing a Mary Sue when I'm playing a character that is obviously not me. On that note, If I see you playing a Mary Sue, I will call you on it. The mocking will be legendary, I assure you. None of this dual katana waiving, Desert Eagle praising, special snowflake faggotry on my watch thank you. I'm not here to start fights on the internet. I will, though. I just find them funny, but keep in mind while I'm ridiculing you: that's just how I relate to people. I don't hate you. For Christ's sake, I made my best friend by kicking him in the balls. And giving him a pretty impressive scar with a spoon. Come to think of it, he still hasn't gotten me back for that one. As far as my posting goes, well, I happen to be in that awkward position of having adult things to do a lot of my time. I may be a slow ass poster, or at least be pretty limited in the times of day I can post. I may also be pulled out for weeks at a time, which I will give warning for, and probably bow out of any ongoing RP's. The reason for this is my current enlistment in the military. Now, before you get all, "Thank you for your service, bro." (Or "Fuck you, Baby-killing asshole!" for that matter. I won't judge) on me, I should say that I have not, nor will I ever see combat, and you should save it for someone who's service has actually mattered. Mine is just a day job.

Most Recent Posts

"Morning Doc." Tam murmured noncommittally as much as 'subordinate' might have rankled under the somewhat rough and ready rank structure of a freelance organization, she didn't exactly care enough to make an issue of it. Also, it was never a good idea to antagonize the person in charge of keeping you alive... For that matter, it was probably a bad idea to antagonize the person in charge of fitting your armor, but she wasn't the type to abuse that power... until it was funny anyway. Operating on a hunch, she hazarded a question. "Hey doc," she asked as he headed for the door, "Notice anything odd about your gear? Like, was any of it not actually on you before the crash?"
"I- What. Just- Just what. That has to be the most fucked up sentence to ever momentarily flirt with logic on it's merry way down the crazy train. Whatever, he's a wizard. But regardless of what he might have the locals convinced of, it doesn't change the fact that we are in a ridiculously poor tactical situation and whoever shot us down is probably on their way to finish the job." "Fine, it's your prerogative to trust the old coot, it's mine to be paranoid. I'm gonna make sure he hasn't fucked with my gear. I'd recommend you do the same. Primitive planet or not, your face'd be mighty red if you found yourself in a fight with mud in your power cells." Tam stalked out, snorting. Some people just did not have the proper temperament for mercenary work. She found her gear in the next room. Disturbingly, each of her teammates equipment was sorted into it's own separate pile. She tossed a worried glance over her shoulder. How had the old man known whose equipment was whose? For that matter, she definitely hadn't been wearing some of this during the brief fur-ball which preceded the crash. If that wasn't suspicious, then she was an avatar of Kalkin. Following her own advice, she thoroughly looked over her gear, brightening up a bit when she found her trusty fitting wrench strapped on the side of her kit. She smiled involuntarily. As long as she'd owned the damn thing, she'd never run into anything it couldn't handle. It was starting to feel more like a family member than a tool. The rest of the gear was in order. You really couldn't break the shotgun. It was old-tech, and reliable as hell, and the pistol passed a cursory strip-down, enough to tell it hadn't been disassembled at least. Some of her more delicate diagnostic gear was worse for wear, but she'd hardly be stripping down Fire Support Drones in the near future. All in all, it felt good to sling the heavy pack. She bounced on her toes to get the weight situated right, absorbing the ache from her bruises. When this was all over, she owed herself one hell of a spa day, but this was on the clock. It was time to get dirty.
Tam grimaced as Fire added his habitually relevant opinions. Of course it was like the logical pointy-eared nut to take the crazy person at face value. "Fire, he's not really a wizard. He's a crazy person. I don't know what they believe back on your planet, but wizards don't exist."
"Uh, huh. Sarge, can I have a word please?" Tam 'subtly' placed herself between the old man and her sergeant. She started to whisper, "Leaving aside the fact that some assholes just put a lot of effort into making us dead, and the fact that anyone who get's paid enough money to take on a merc company ain't likely the type to leave off on maybe, what the fuck are we gonna do with this guy?" "He just called himself a wizard. I don't fancy whatever the hell the crazy old bastard has been doing to us in our sleep either."
Tam woke up to a horrifying lack of sound. Somehow, a lifetime of inborn vigilance broke through unconsciousness and kicked her into fight or flight before she'd even noticed her surroundings. However, in this case, her reflex wasn't fight or flight, it was 'find a pressure kit'. She couldn't hear fans, and that meant life-support was down. She had at best minutes to live without air recycling. For all the suddenness of the impulse, it wasn't panicked. Tamrapani flung herself towards where the air kit would be hung on her bulkhead. Of course, neither the kit nor the bulkhead were present, and she was for some reason sleeping way to close to the ground. She flailed against unexpectedly light gravity, one of her out-flung legs upending and actually cracking the solid oak of the bed-frame. Her face quickly alerted her that this was not metal, there were no engines thrumming in the background, and she appeared to be planet side. The rest of her body got tired of being ignored and decided to let her in on the fact that it seemed to be one big bruise. She curled around a suddenly raging headache and cautiously peeked out one black eye. "Oh god why. I don't remember drinking THAT much last night. Did I get in a fight with a family of gorillas? I don't remember that. Actually, last thing I remember someone threw the bulkhead at me. Which one of you ass-hats threw the engineering bulkhead!? We need that." Somewhere in the middle of that rambling self-assessment, she noticed the bearded man regarding her with an amused expression. "And who's the old fuck?"
Appearance:
Name: Tamrapani Zaerayev Vadiyashti Daegev... You know what? Just call me Tam. Age: 29 Gender: Female Personality: Boisterous doesn't begin to cover it. Tam parties hard and works harder, painfully aware that life is short and going out of your way not to enjoy it will only make it shorter. She's got a big mouth, and will constantly fill your comm channels with off-color jokes, sexual innuendo and general blasphemies against sanity and good taste. She's quick to anger, but just as quick to forgive, and tends to laugh off little things like bruises or dislocations as "good fun". Species: Heavy-grav world human. Broad-shouldered, thick skinned and well muscled by a combination of natural adaptation and generations of gene-modding. Relation: Tam's family life is... complicated to say the least. Her home planet of Naraka is pretty much a deathworld, and most of it's inhabitants work the dangerous, but high-paying mines. Because of the high mortality rate, Narakans practice chain marriages, with multiple husbands and wives as sort of a mutual assurance against accidental death. In the black humor of the mining worlds, well, sorry your mom died, but at least you've got spares. Tam has six living father's and four living mothers, as well as several dead ones who she quietly honors. Gear: Tamrapani is the unit's armourer. It's her job to take care of the various bits of finicky technology that give a mercenary unit its tactical edge. As such, she carries a toolkit almost as big as some of her teammates in addition to her combat shotgun and service pistol. Her favorite tool, however, is the massive fitting wrench strapped to the side of her pack, which she uses to break things almost as often as she repairs them.
User, you are a massive troll. I just spent a minute and half trying to get your username to load.
Tanith first and only!
Appearance:
Name: Tamrapani Zaerayev Vadiyashti Daegev... You know what? Just call me Tam. Age: 29 Gender: Female Personality: Boisterous doesn't begin to cover it. Tam parties hard and works harder, painfully aware that life is short and going out of your way not to enjoy it will only make it shorter. She's got a big mouth, and will constantly fill your comm channels with off-color jokes, sexual innuendo and general blasphemies against sanity and good taste. She's quick to anger, but just as quick to forgive, and tends to laugh off little things like bruises or dislocations as "good fun". Species: Heavy-grav world human. Broad-shouldered, thick skinned and well muscled by a combination of natural adaptation and generations of gene-modding. Relation: Tam's family life is... complicated to say the least. Her home planet of Naraka is pretty much a deathworld, and most of it's inhabitants work the dangerous, but high-paying mines. Because of the high mortality rate, Narakans practice chain marriages, with multiple husbands and wives as sort of a mutual assurance against accidental death. In the black humor of the mining worlds, well, sorry your mom died, but at least you've got spares. Tam has six living father's and four living mothers, as well as several dead ones who she quietly honors. Gear: Tamrapani is the unit's armourer. It's her job to take care of the various bits of finicky technology that give a mercenary unit its tactical edge. As such, she carries a toolkit almost as big as some of her teammates in addition to her combat shotgun and service pistol. Her favorite tool, however, is the massive fitting wrench strapped to the side of her pack, which she uses to break things almost as often as she repairs them. Edit: Found one I liked
Hello, I'm just resurrecting this old profile to see if I can't get into the ERP scene again, because I'm pretty bored. I'm definitely interested in this little venture, although I'm pretty constrained on what times of day I can post during. You may see me in the morning, 'bout lunch and then more active evening, (PST for reference). If you'll have me, I'll be along for the ride.
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