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3 yrs ago
Current is sexualizing Pokemon a variation of bestiality?
3 likes
3 yrs ago
lol. lmao
7 likes
3 yrs ago
JOHN TABLE!
1 like
4 yrs ago
hearing rumors that rebornfan is storming the US capitol, looking for whoever's responsible for everyone ghosting his RPs
14 likes
4 yrs ago
you got a fat ass and a bright future ahead of you. keep it up champ
1 like

Bio

Most Recent Posts







Mankind's destiny had always lain among the stars. Space was a vast wilderness, untapped and untamed. The heavens have called to men since time immemorial. It was a tapestry upon which we could define our fate. It was the void, dark and foreboding, like a monster from myth demanding to be challenged. And it was the final frontier man would set out into in search of discovery.

And so they did. They stretched out their hands into the sky and laid claim to all they touched. A thousand worlds were united under a single people. It was a golden age of exploration that would endure for centuries. An emboldened humanity looked to the horizon for an even brighter future- hopeful, optimistic. What could possibly stop them?

Themselves, in short.

The year is 3061. The United Federation of Orion–Cygnus has officially dissolved as tensions between the great powers of the sector reach their boiling point. Most commentators believe open war between the nations of Orion-Cygnus to be improbable at best; vast stores of planet-busting weaponry owned by every major player make for a gunshy galaxy, they claim. But what think tanks and talking heads call 'a state of low-level conflict' looks a hell of a lot like war to the average citizen living through it.

Their communities are being occupied. Their space stations blown out of the sky. their trade vessels boarded, robbed of all they have and then scuttled- often with the crew still aboard. No one quite knows the extent of the damage, nor can anyone guess at the casualty numbers- the combatants have every interest in losing track. The fighting's not being done by the Sol Union, Thedes Empire or North Star League. Its being done by private security firms, paramilitaries, and foreign-backed militias. The frontier's the primary theater of war, sparsely populated and rich with unexploited resources. Many frontier settlements are de facto independent, even if they're technically within the borders of one nation or another. The settlers certainly don't care which color they are on some Coreworlder's map. They've thrived for generations on their own, relying only on the sweat of their brows and the helping hands of their neighbors. But times are changing. The scramble for the frontier's begun.

The Vox Fortuna is one of many small-time mercenary companies that've made their way to the frontier to join the scramble. They operate out of a single frigate called the Fortuna, specialized in carrying and deploying the premier platform for modern armored warfare: Exoframes. Giant, mechanical titans capable of immense destruction, as diverse in design and versatile in application as the people that pilot them. The Fortuna's crew, not-so-affectionately known as the Gamblers, are miscreants, cutthroats and outcasts. They have no home port, little wealth to their names and a reputation for fucking up every contract they swindle their way into. They've been blacklisted by every major state and corporation in the arm. Only the truly desperate would consider hiring them, and its always a gamble.

Lucky for them, war makes a gambler out of everyone.















Welcome to Gamblers of Vox Fortuna, a Real Robot mecha meets Space Western RP. Our story will follow a company of morally questionable mercenaries as they traverse the frontier in search of work as an interstellar proxy war wages in the backdrop. The narrative will be largely episodic, starting with the crew arriving at a destination, accepting a contract and then completing it (or not, as the case may be) as the players see fit. Will our roguish protagonists stumble their way into heroism? Or will the draw of a quick buck make them do the unthinkable? I'll do my best to present situations and scenarios that are compelling, fun and promote interesting interactions between your characters.

This is an invite-only RP. If we're friends you can hit me up on Discord if you'd like to join.

I won't be setting any hard and fast rules regarding posting schedules or content. If I'm inviting you I expect you to know not to be a freak, and if you're not going to be able to post in a timely manner I'm going to do my best to accommodate you without letting the game die in the process.



<Snipped quote by Cybermaxx>
Stop harassing me! It's transphobic!


i am begging upon my hands and knees over here
roses are red
violets are blue
somebody fuckin post already


i make my meager offering. tell me how its shit so i can fix it

---



Name: Tobias Barnabas Schmidt

Age: 18

Place of Birth: Armloch, a settlement deep in the Plain, nearer to the Reachline than Sonnehall

Division: Vulkan

Background Check: Tobias was born in Armloch, a backwater village at the edge of the world. He was one of sixteen Schmidts living and working on the family ranch; theirs was the twelfth generation to do so. The Schmidt patriarch always claimed they had some connection to the land, as if they drew their success out of the sand and rock. The old man's mysticism seemed foolish to Tobias even as a boy. His mind was drawn to that which was real. He took an early interest in the sciences. He wondered why the wind blew, why water flowed downwards, and how machinery functioned. It was the esoteric energy that powered everything around him that captured his imagination in particular. He obsessed over it. He would shadow Armloch's mechanics to learn all he could from them. Absorbing their teachings like a sponge, Tobias was never satisfied until he could mimic their every action. Every broken tool, vehicle, or farming implement set in front of him was a puzzle to be deciphered. The boy proved exceptional, for there were few challenges he could not meet.

Storms were an everyday occurrence out in the Plain. Any settlement wishing to last more than a fortnight needed to be prepared for the worst. Armloch found safety in its labyrinth of underground tunnels, both man-made and natural. Tight, twisting corridors where one wrong turn could land you in a pit of railroad spikes or a patch of landmines. Every settler had memorized the safe path to the bunkers where they were expected to wait out anything over a Benign 1. In practice, however, many of village's denizens choose to stay above ground to defend their property from the Regentier- the Schmidt family among them. The patriarch assured them that the land had protected his family for generations. There was nothing to fear from a light drizzle. Tobias's cousins often mocked him for joining the children and the elderly in the tunnels.

Tobias was seventeen when a roaring deluge washed over Armloch. It was sudden, too sudden for SNDP to be deployed ahead of time. Regentier were swarming the roads before anyone knew what was happening. The locals formed a posse to make a push for the bunkers, taking up what meager arms they had on hand to defend themselves. Tobias urged his family to join them, but the patriarch's voice rang louder and deeper. He was steadfast in his faith that they could hold the ranch.

By the time the hunters arrived Armloch was nothing more than a pile of scattered rubble. Only a handful had weathered the storm beneath the earth; there were far too few of them to rebuild. Most of the survivors took refuge in the nearby townships and hamlets. A few- Tobias among them- followed the SNDP back to Sonnehall. There was nothing left for him here but dust and bitterness. Perhaps he could new purpose in the capital, where the technology he'd always obsessed over was at its bleeding edge.

Maybe he could ensure nothing like Armloch ever happened again.

Graft / Weapon Specialty: Artillery
Requesting a name change to Supermaxx. Thanks!
N O M A D




"I can teleport us to him."

A weight formed in Steve Roger's gut. Knowing it needed to be done to help Allen didn't stop a shiver from running up his spine. That dead boy's powers came from a source all too familiar to him: his preacher had beat the fear of the devil into Steve since before he could walk. It wasn't like the Mojoworld tech- that wastoo fantastical, too 'out there' to be real. That was stepping through a doorway into dark room devoid of all sound or noise. This, though?

Six's cape swallowed the light. Darkness rushed in around him in the same way a torpedo might punch a hole into the side of a submarine and send the ocean cascading inside. It enveloped Steve Rogers. His throat tightened as smoke scratched at it. His nostrils flared at the bite of brimstone and sulfur. All he could do was repeat a silent prayer to his maker for protection from whatever entity lurked behind the black. The Seconds passed by in agonizing slow motion, teasing Rogers with the possibility that this was his new reality.

And then he stumbled onto the bare concrete floor of the complex, letting out the breath he'd been holding. It took him a moment to shove his anxiety back down into his chest.

Once he had his bearings he turned to glare at Six over his shoulder. "I am not doing that again," he snapped. Maybe it was harsh of him to blame the child for what had been done to him, but he couldn't ignore what he'd just been subjected to. It was anathema to everything he'd ever believed. This blasted trip was bringing all his base assumptions into question, each confrontation threatening to tear away one of the anchors to his past. He could only hope this ordeal would be over soon.

Rogers straightened himself out and turned to address the Flash: "Good to see you’re in one piece. We've got a situation. Something’s run roughshod through this place’s occupants and we’re pretty sure it’s still here. You seen the Martian?”
F A N T A S T I C F O U R
F A N T A S T I C F O U R

"It's okay to be afraid. It's okay to fail. But to say that you're not even willing to try...that's unacceptable." - Nathaniel Richards
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
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C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
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Reed Richards AKA Mr. Fantastic
Susan Storm Richards AKA Invisible Woman
Johnny Storm AKA Human Torch
Ben Grimm AKA The Thing

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Explorers, Scientists and Superheroes
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Based out of the Baxter Building in New York City

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
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P O S T C A T A L O G
P O S T C A T A L O G
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C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
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Ten years ago, Reed Richards, Susan Storm, Johnny Storm and Ben Grimm set out together to test the world's first superluminal-capable spacecraft. Their vessel passed through cosmological event, exposing them to an impossibly high dosage of unknown radiation that fundamentally restructured the crews' genetic makeup. Upon returning to earth, the four of them pledged to utilize their new abilities for the betterment of mankind, christening themselves as the Fantastic Four.

They've spent the last decade protecting humanity from all sorts of fantastical threats: the Mole Man, the Wizard, Ronan the Accuser and the Super-Skrull, Annihilus, Victor Von Doom, the Council of Reeds, Mongul, as well as a host of others. The four of them have explored a vast multitude of planets, dimensions and universes. They have discovered unimaginable truths about the nature of existence, and they have stood before cosmic entities of existential significance. Through it all they've only grown closer as a team- and a family.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
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Put simply, I have an itch for high-concept science fiction shenanigans that only the Fantastic Four can fill. I've been reading Johnathan Hickman's run and I'm brimming with inspiration. Its always sort of surprising how one of the oldest and most established superhero teams gets little attention in these One Universe Games, but Morden Man's foray in UOU is something I've gone back to several times while stewing on this sheet. Its just plain good.

As for the character themselves, I decided to take advantage of our longer timeline to include the team's rich history. They're all veteran heroes at this point, ready for just about anything that you could throw at them- or so they believe. I'll be putting a great deal of my focus toward the family dynamic of the Fantastic Four, especially in regards to each member's relationship with Valeria and Franklin, the Richards' kids. Something Hickman emphasizes in his run is the importance of family, and whether or not we're willing to put it before everything else- and in that run's case, before the world. That's something I'd like to touch on as well.

T A L E S T O A S T O N I S H
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O N G O I N G
BABYSITTING

While Reed, Susie and Johnny are called away on a mission to Thanagar, Ben Grimm is left behind to watch the kids. Things go awry when a group of alien warriors attack the Baxter Building in an effort to kidnap Valeria. They believe she can solve a theoretical equation capable of changing the universe.

Characters Involved: Ben, Val, Franklin, the Female Furies, Danny the Street and a TBD number of other players
Desired # of Players: TBD


O N G O I N G
A TALE OF TWO WORLDS

An emissary from the Ruling Council of Thanagar has called Reed Richards for aid in a growing diplomatic crisis. The unsteady peace between the Kree Empire and Thanagar is threatened by the interference of unknown forces. The armies of either side gather, and the Fantastic Four must race to uncover the instigator's identity before its too late.

Characters Involved:
Reed, Susan, Johnny, REDACTED, various supporting characters from Thanagar and the Kree Empire, and a TBD number of other players

Desired # of Players: TBD

SEASON ONE Sensation & Wonder

Brooklyn New York City

Superboy was all too aware of the effect his words had on Silk. A spike of adrenaline caused a temporary rise in her blood pressure. Seratonin and dopamine levels shift in her brain, most notably around the amygdalas. Her face twitches in an unconscious biopsychosocial reaction. For Superboy, those microexpressions- far too quick to be perceived by the human eye- go on for minutes. He has all the time in the world to analyze, compare, and theorize about each particular movement, every minute change, every possible variable. It was agonizing in moments like these when he already knew how badly he'd screwed up. His mind forced him to dwell on the guilt roiling in his chest.

"Thanks," he grinned. "I'll see ya around."

The asphalt cracked under his feet as he took off. Pushing himself faster and faster he shot through the sky. Superboy opened himself up to new sensations. Wind roared 'round his ears, joined by the chorus of battle that consumed much of New York City. There was the thudding of an anti-materiel rifle in Manhattan. The roar of a jet's engines as it came in for landing at JFK. Panicked screams in an alien tongue reverberated through the disabled Dominator skull-ship. The crackle of an Avengers communicator as Spider-Man explained that he'd found the source of the rifts. Hovering in the open sky, Superboy drowned himself in information, taking comfort in the chaos.

Solace proved fleeting, however, as a familiar voice crept inside his skull.

"Why do you let the feelings of these people trouble you?" Paul Westfield spoke through the radio receiver embedded in Superboy's cochlea. His voice was a cocktail of morose callousness and bored arrogance. The good doctor hadn't contacted Superboy since their encounter in the The Complex beneath Cadmus Tower, and the sharp, nasally sound made Superboy's skin crawl. It was like the devil had perched behind him, leaning in to whisper in his ear, and he was terrified what would be asked of him-

-Because now he knew he couldn't refuse.

"For a guy so concerned about humanity you don't seem to like 'em very much." He replied after swallowing the frog in his throat. Though Westfield was surely dozens of miles away all Superboy had to do was speak into the open air: the sensors Cadmus had implanted into his nervous system fed each of his five senses back to them in real time. Everything he saw, heard and felt was being monitored in real time. That was one of the less

"When you measure your success in generations the individuals begin to...fade. You'll become accustomed to it, in time."

Superboy scoffed. "Fat chance of that, asshole."

"A century from now that girl down there will be a withered husk trapped underground in a wooden box, and you'll still be in your prime. What do you think the world will look like then? What about five hundred years in the future, or a millennium?"

A few seconds ticked by without answer, so Westfield pressed on, an almost fanatic fervor rising in him. "Your mind is so confined to the present that you couldn't even begin to imagine so distant a future! Now imagine witnessing all that progress two hundred fold and you may get an inkling of why I don't concern myself with the low self-esteem of idiot teenagers."

A silence followed that revelation, hanging heavy like fog from the sea. Perceiving reality on a scale incomprehensible to normal people was something Superboy was all to familiar with. Even still, Westfield's claims were outlandish. Even if he was a clone of Superman- with all his extraordinary abilities and alien physiology- there was no way he'd live so long. Right?

"Why are you telling me this now?" He muttered, more uncomfortable with the continuing quiet than he was with Westfield's breath on his neck. "The world's gone to hell. I oughta be down there."

Now it was Westfield's turn to scoff. "This lesson is more important than anything you could be doing 'down there.' You ought to take it to heart even moreso, in fact: you paid for it in blood."

A chill ran down the boy's spine.

"But I didn't call just to lecture. I have need of you. The technology necessary to open Interdimensional gates of this kind could prove useful to the company. Either acquire the device itself or the individual behind it and bring it back to the Complex."

"Every superhero this side of the solar system is looking for that. How am I s'posed to get it before all of them? Before SHIELD?"

There was no response.
I'm going to sound like a broken record here, but just a friendly caution against adding too much to the plate too soon. The RP only just began picking up steam again after a couple of months of low-to-no activity and motivation burnout. I'd hate to see us hop right back into that same situation again. Just a thought.


You’re absolutely correct and this is something I considered heavily while toying with the character sheet. Ended up cutting out a few things from my usual schedule so I can focus more fully on writing for this game (and yours ;)) in my free time.
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