Sisyphus

Falling Skies: Wavering Valor (Mecha, Space Opera)

You can still apply! Deadline is tomorrow, but yeah, it's not first come first served.

Gods: Redux: a Deity RP (FULL)

Legorian, The Deep One

It always started with a single note. Lymir, the high priest of the Deepfolk, stood on the roof of the temple, his coral staff clutched in one hand turned white from age. All around him was Kalanai, the abyssal city - the city was above and below him, carved into the stone walls and lit with bioluminescent plant pods. His fellow deepfolk swam to and fro in their nightly business; the hustle and bustle of a great metropolis was the same above or below the waves. Lymir opened his mouth, and the water echoed with a single deep, sonorous voice.

All around, the Deepfolk paused, and one by one they lifted their voices to join in the wordless melody. Every deepfolk was born knowing the song of the sea, and they sang it nightly with their kin until their dying day. In smaller tribes or towns, the song would be simple, quiet, and slow - in Kalanai, of course, it was more of a production. Below Lymir, the conductor of the Deep Orchestra signaled his assembled band to begin, and the musicians began to pluck at twangy instruments made of shell and fishguts. Above, a passing pod of whales began to hum in time with the song, and the great drum at the heart of the city began to beat in time to the music.

All of this, Legorian saw and heard from his palace window. It could be said that the God of the Sea was troubled, but when was that not true these days? Even still, there was a disquiet in his soul that the music of his people did not still. "Breathing light," he murmured to himself. "Red air, spinning. Ungod rising. Burning wheel bearing down, breathing light, breathing red. Seventeen prayers to a dead god. Up spears, up claws, up spinning, up light."

"Father?" a clear, cautious voice interrupted Legorian's pontification, and the mad god turned to see his son Akatun enter his chambers, clad in coral armor as usual. The demigod waved his hand over the plant-bulb in the center of the room, causing it to stir into a soft, pale glow, and brought a fist to his chest. "You summoned me? Are you well?"

"My son," Legorian said, his deep voice echoing in the water. "You did well to come so quickly. Tell me of your time above, with the she-war."

Akatun furrowed his black brow. "The surface is... strange. I often forget that I was born there, it seems so different. They are so disconnected up there, from themselves, from each other, from the world. The sun is... bright, and harsh, but there is beauty in that harshness. Koritomo is not what you would expect - not like her father at all. She's kind, noble even, but she's as fierce a warrior as you could hope to meet. I have much more to learn from her."

Legorian tilted his head. "You wish to return, my son?"

"I... do," the demigod said, nodding slowly. "It has been good to return and visit with my home and my men, but I am not the warrior I could be, not yet. And there are others like me, children of gods. I wish to see them again."

The Mad God turned. The song was speeding up outside; every Deepfolk in the city was singing, every instrument raised to join the chorus, every whale and squid that swam through the trench humming in time with the music. Finally, Legorian nodded. "Return, then. Take my fastest crab and however many soldiers you would wish for. Go to the coral smiths before you leave and select a gift for Koritomo from me - let her know it is on account of her late father."

Akatun brought his fist to his chest, a broad smile on his face. "Thank you, father. It will be as you say."

The demigod departed, and Legorian called after him, "And send a message to your sister while you're at it! Tell her that she and her host can expect a visit from me soon." There was much to do in this newer, madder world, Legorian reflected as the song outside drew to a close. He would begin by having words with Leoric.

Falling Skies: Wavering Valor (Mecha, Space Opera)

Profie: Chloe O’Connor

(Disregard the crossbow and the bare thighs, the picture is otherwise perfect).
Name: O’Connor, Chloe
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Callsign: Noob
Kills: 0! For now.

Psychological Analysis: Chloe is peppy, energetic, and always talking. She’s an absolutely zealous worker and at times an insufferable kiss-up to authority figures, both habits born from the days when she had to work odd jobs to keep her family off the streets – to her, perfection is necessary to survive. She possesses a confidence that at times crosses the border completely into arrogance, being well aware that she had to work very hard to get where she is, and she often acts like she understands situations better than she actually does. She resents her position as the ‘FNG’ a bit, but for the most part she takes it as a challenge; she’s determined to prove her worth to her new contemporaries and show them just why she belongs alongside them.

Chloe’s friendly enough to most people who can put up with her, though she has a habit of making snap judgements about people that tend to stick around for a very long time, for good or ill. She loves conversation and comparing tactics, strategies or technical notes with her peers; she’s obsessed with self-improvement and being better at her job, so if she can accept that someone has some knowledge or experience she doesn’t, she’ll do her level best to get it out of them.

Deep down, her perfectionism gives way to a gnawing anxiety about her place in the world and in the 101st Legion, and she tends to deal with outright failure very poorly. She loves her family, and writes home to them frequently, though she’d be lying if she said she had any deep patriotic feelings for the UEE. To her, the Legion is a potentially lucrative career, a place she can perform well and rise far; she hasn’t put much thought into the actual ‘combat’ part of it, the risking of her own life and the taking of others’, but she believes that she’ll manage, when the time comes. The prospect of peace conflicts her – she’s seen enough devastation caused by the war to know it would be a good thing, but at the same time… it would really throw a wrench in her career goals.


Military Record: Military Record: Chloe was born on in a city on Ganymede, the first of three children. Her parents were refugees from the planet Artal, an agrarian world that had recently fallen after a prolonged invasion by Coalition forces. The city was an urban jungle, sprawling and filthy and poverty stricken from a growing refugee crisis. Chloe grew up in a two-room apartment in the slums of the city, which she shared with her parents and her two twin siblings; for most of her life, the family was wretchedly poor, there being little good work for people whose only marketable skills were in off-world farming.

In addition to her public education, Chloe started working odd jobs from the age of 12 to supplement her parent’s income; she hauled garbage, waited tables in in restaurants in the ‘nice’ part of town – once or twice she got involved in more illegal operations, though she made certain not to get too far into that game. The city was dangerous; everyone carried a gun, and everyone knew how to use one. All the while, she studied as much as she could, often skipping meals or sleep so that she would have time to complete her schoolwork. From the very beginning, she was planning her escape; how she would one day provide a better life for her family. Nobody in any serious professional field would take her education seriously, but there was some precedent for well-performing students in the slums to find success in the military.

Shortly after her seventeenth birthday, Chloe and her classmates were given the Ganymede aptitude test; and, much to the surprise of her peers, Chloe’s remarkable performance caught the eye of a recruitment officer who was fond of ‘giving the little guys a chance’, as he said no less than three times in her interview with him. One letter of recommendation later, Chloe was on her way to the planet’s most prestigious military academy with a single bag full of possessions.

Chloe excelled in the academy, though most of her peers considered her absolutely insufferable. She trained and studied obsessively, graduating three years later at the top of her class and immediately being promoted to active duty as a MAS Pilot with the 101st. She has yet to see actual combat, but she’s looking forward to the opportunity to finally prove that she deserves this chance; and make a little money for her family in the bargain.

Equipment: Simple magnetic pilot’s sidearm in a thigh holster. She also has a picture of her little brother and sister scrunched up in her back pocket.

Revised version of the CS. Let me know if this background works better!

Falling Skies: Wavering Valor (Mecha, Space Opera)

Alrighty. Time for some feedback.

Firstly, to everyone. When you're filling out the character sheets, when you put down an image, you can delete the word 'appearance'. Bothers me a bit. Dunno why, call me crazy. Also keep in mind that any and all criticism is entirely professional. That doesn't mean I'm a professional critic, but rather don't take anything I say as a personal insult, I know people can get pretty attached to their work and some people get pretty defensive, but just know that I'm not criticizing your character sheets because I don't like you.

With that out of the way, let us begin with the feedback. Individual feedback will be hidden in your own little hider.

@Sisyphus

the things

Not a critique but a note, I changed the 'minimum' age to an age range of 20-22, about the age people are when they graduate from college- or in this case military academies.

Peppy, energetic, arrogant. Great traits for the FNG. The secret anxiety are good counterweights to her personality.

Alrighty, so Dublin- most developed places in the world today, are much more developed by the time of this RP. Refugees are less likely to be welcome on Earth as they are say Luna, Ganymede or one of the other Jovian moons, or perhaps Mars. In fact, most of the Jovian moons are going through refugee crises atm. Earth is the center of power for the UEE, and while some refugees make their way there, very few do without notable credentials. Mars is fairly similar, but more welcoming to potential laborers as Mars location of the some of the largest shipyards in the Sol System.

Also, in previous iterations of this RP, the 101st were special forces. In this iteration, they are not. They're just the pilots that fly MAS instead of strike craft. Likewise, the 12 squad is not a unit of entirely veterans- she wouldn't be the only rookie to join the 12th, nor does she half to be top of her class, though she very well can be if you really want. A good question would be how a near starving slummer with multiple jobs found the time to study for an aptitude test to become a MAS pilot, especially as MAS pilots are officers, not enlisted men. Perhaps she did well enough in school to get into the very bottom of the barrel spot of a military academy, and from there did well enough to be selected for MAS training.

---

In Conclusion:

Fairly good concept. Good personality and character, only real issue is how she got there.

@vietmyke

That's all understandable - I realized halfway through writing that that I didn't really know how presitgious being a MAS pilot actually was, and I think that shows. I'll type up the edits tomorrow - probably make her grow up on Ganymede and have her military career stem from performing well in a more conventional academy.

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

@The Angry GoatAwesome post! I think I can come in now with a new prompt, if @Sisyphus doesn't want to immediately reply.

@Lovejoy

By all means, go ahead.

Falling Skies: Wavering Valor (Mecha, Space Opera)

<Snipped quote by Sisyphus>

What about your mech :o

Also something sexy is COMING

Hider

@DeadDrop

It says in the OP that the GM will pick the mech for the FNG, I think.

Falling Skies: Wavering Valor (Mecha, Space Opera)

Profie: Chloe O’Connor

Appearance: (Disregard the crossbow and the bare thighs, the picture is otherwise perfect).
Name: O’Connor, Chloe
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Callsign: Noob
Kills: 0! For now.

Psychological Analysis: Chloe is peppy, energetic, and always talking. She’s an absolutely zealous worker and at times an insufferable kiss-up to authority figures, both habits born from the days when she had to work odd jobs to keep her family off the streets – to her, perfection is necessary to survive. She possesses a confidence that at times crosses the border completely into arrogance, being well aware that she had to work very hard to get where she is, and she often acts like she understands situations better than she actually does. She resents her position as the ‘FNG’ a bit, but for the most part she takes it as a challenge; she’s determined to prove her worth to her new contemporaries and show them just why she belongs alongside them.
Chloe’s friendly enough to most people who can put up with her, though she has a habit of making snap judgements about people that tend to stick around for a very long time, for good or ill. She loves conversation and comparing tactics, strategies or technical notes with her peers; she’s obsessed with self-improvement and being better at her job, so if she can accept that someone has some knowledge or experience she doesn’t, she’ll do her level best to get it out of them.
Deep down, her perfectionism gives way to a gnawing anxiety about her place in the world and in the 101st Legion, and she tends to deal with outright failure very poorly. She loves her family, and writes home to them frequently, though she’d be lying if she said she had any deep patriotic feelings for the UEE. To her, the Legion is a potentially lucrative career, a place she can perform well and rise far; she hasn’t put much thought into the actual ‘combat’ part of it, the risking of her own life and the taking of others’, but she believes that she’ll manage, when the time comes. The prospect of peace conflicts her – she’s seen enough devastation caused by the war to know it would be a good thing, but at the same time… it would really throw a wrench in her career goals.


Military Record: Military Record: Chloe was born on Earth in the city of Dublin, Ireland, the first of three children. Her parents were refugees from the planet Artal, an agrarian world that had recently fallen after a prolonged invasion by Coalition forces. Dublin was an urban jungle, sprawling and filthy and poverty stricken from a growing refugee crisis. Chloe grew up in a hovel on the river Liffey, which she shared with her parents and her two twin siblings; for most of her life, the family was wretchedly poor, there being little good work for people whose only marketable skills were in off-world farming.
Chloe started working odd jobs from the age of 12 to supplement her parent’s income; she hauled garbage, waited tables in in restaurants in the ‘nice’ part of town – once or twice she got involved in more illegal operations, though she made certain not to get too far into that game. The city was dangerous; everyone carried a gun, and everyone knew how to use one. Despite the difficult circumstances, Chloe’s mother found time to homeschool her children, and Chloe supplemented that education as best as she good. All the while, she was planning her escape; how she would one day provide a better life for her family. There wasn’t money at home, but there was always a need for good soldiers.
On her seventeenth birthday, Chloe marched into a recruitment station in tattered clothes with a face covered in mud and demanded to be considered eligible for training – not just as a grunt soldier, but as an MAS pilot, the best of the best. She was immediately laughed out of the room, though she remained camped outside the building for three days, yelling at the window that she wouldn’t leave until she was given the basic aptitude test. Finally, the recruitment officer relented, expecting her to fail immediately; however, she had been training and studying obsessively for this moment for a year, and both her physical performance and test scores were enough to qualify her for training. She backed a bag full of possessions, kissed her mother goodbye, and was on the next shuttle to basic, promising to send money home.
Chloe excelled in training, though most of her peers considered her absolutely insufferable. She trained and studied obsessively, graduating three years later at the top of her class and immediately being promoted to active duty with a unit of veterans. She has yet to see actual combat, but she’s looking forward to the chance to finally prove that she deserves this chance; and make a little money for her family in the bargain.

Equipment: Simple magnetic pilot’s sidearm in a thigh holster. She also has a picture of her little brother and sister scrunched up in her back pocket.

Throwing in my hat for FNG!

Falling Skies: Wavering Valor (Mecha, Space Opera)

I'm not a no - do I get first pick on FNG because I haven't been part of one of these before? :P

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

<Snipped quote by Sisyphus>

here is one of the few times in all my years (like 6 or whatever) that I've actively seen a player voluntarily set their character up to have a disadvantage that they didnt plan for in the beginning, is this like wizardry or something

@Mercenary Lord

I've never understood why people resist having flaws or weaknesses so much. We're not RPing to be the most powerful or successful character, we're RPing to tell a good story, and stories love a loser. An opportunity to get awesomely screwed isn't a penalty, it's a gift. :P

Also? I LOVE the vision.

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

Sorry for the double post! Just read your last reply @Sisyphus, and yeah, I pretty much agree with everything. It largely works on non-magical people, but I feel like there should be a small percentage of just purely special regular people who aren't inquisitors who can endure it. Is that cool?

@Lovejoy

Sure. Would it be possible for Hassan to not know about that? I think him finding out that there's regular people who can ignore the world would be a cool scene to watch happen - probably shake up his whole world view.