The Angry Goat

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

Xerxes loved goats! I know this because I am him!

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

I am Xerxes the Great of Persia, nice to meet you

The Official Guild Pre Christmas Knockout Tournament!

Im still here btw :V

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

Joke’s on you, im jewish and dont have to do jack this time of year :P

Stranded: Prisoner's Tale (sci-fi/fantasy Med casual)

Bipolar murder machine?

Pari Liosa Arwa

Race: Human

Age: 23

Gender: Female

Appearance: 5’6”, ~125 lbs



Pari’s right arm is shaped slightly strange – as if it had been broken and improperly set.

Equipment: Her staff is custom made – it’s a nigh unbreakable titanium composite. The blade on top, sharp on its own, is enhanced by energy around the blade, allowing it to stab through most things with enough force. Out the same end is also a laser rifle: it experiences no knockback, so it doesn’t really need to be gun shaped; the laser projectiles are capable of about the same damage as a mid-calibre bullet. Out the rear, a short ranged TASER. Powered by high efficiency lithium-ion batteries, and can recharge with small solar panels.

Smith and Wesson mk 114 LASER stun pistol; this has multiple settings, in a similar vein to star trek phasers, and is solar powered. She stores it in a holster on her right hip

She has light body armor over her torso, and exoskeleton leg gear that help her endurance and allow her to make precise movements very quickly. The leg gear also makes her kicks hurt even more.
She’s also at least 3 knives hidden on her person.

Attunement/enhancements: Water

Unique Ability: Plant drain: Pari is able to draw water from plant life – not from any animals, however.
Pari has mastered incorporating her staff into her fighting, and is a very good kickboxer. She is also an amazing watercolorist, and knows 6 languages: the dominant Tulak trade language, English, Arabic, Russian, Farsi, and some Sapishte. She is a decently capable engineer of ships and weapons, and can drive a spaceship quite skillfully.

Personality: Chaotic neutral//ENFP//bad with words//perceptive//curious//unhappy
One might make the mistake of underestimating Pari. That only happens once: even when in control of her emotions, Pari is lethal; just far more calculated. That being said, if you respect her, expect a steadfast ally, as long as she can control herself. She comes off as an easygoing flirt when she’s in control of her mental state – unfortunately, Pari is often under the affects of her extreme bipolar disorder, shifting between bouts of mania and depression, both of which tend to result in her murdering someone. She does know some of her triggers, but most are a mystery to her, and often the slightest thing can set her off. The anti-aggression field is the best thing to ever happen to her: multiple months of level-headedness curtsey of the mood regulation system. This had allowed her to finally focus on writing a diary, and begin to understand the impacts of her actions. And work on her art.

Bio: Pari Arwa grew up in an incredibly abusive household of an Earth Ambassador to the Tulak, on Vai’Ralu. Her father was mostly absent due to work, and her mother was therefore able to hide her physical abuse of their child for a very long time, until Pari ran away at the age of 12. She was, in the short term, adopted by two elderly Tulak farmers, whose farm she ended up on, but she eventually became convinced that they were going to return her to her family (they were not), and ran off from there. Stowing herself away on a ship leaving Vai’Ralu, she made her way to the human homeworld of Earth.
Landing in St. Petersburg, Pari realized she was completely out of her league, a 14 year old with no job and no trust in the government to protect her. Living on the streets, she was quickly picked up by some mobsters working out of a brothel, who thought that there might be a market for 14-year-olds. There certainly was, but after Pari killed her first “client” with a spear made of ice, they elected to instead train her abilities, seeing her as a potentially useful tool in that regard (they almost killed her outright instead). As one might imagine, becoming the personal assassin of a group of mobsters at the age of 14 was not the best for an already unstable girl, but it did teach her that power was made in blood, and that she liked polearms. Eventually, her dislike of working for a master overcame her fear of them, and she was able to catch them by surprise when she was 18. Liquid water can pierce straight through a person with enough force behind it, and that caused a LOT of blood for the police men to try and sift through. Before she was caught, Pari managed to stowaway again, ending up on a trade outpost on the outskirts of the human empire. Pari met a few bounty hunters while she was there, and managed to convince one to take her under his wing. He was the first one to truly understand her bipolar disorder, and helped her start to manage it; he also taught her how to build her own weapons, and it was under his tutelage that she built her spear.
Eventually, though, they parted ways when she was 21. Pari refuses to say what caused this, and it is not a good idea to press her on it. What is evident, however, is that she became more and more unhinged, murdering anyone that she perceived as a bad person, regardless of contracts. The government soon caught up with her, and connected her with her murders back on earth. Fortunately for them she was on such a low point that she offered no fight when they burst into her hovel on that trade planet.

Stranded: Prisoner's Tale (sci-fi/fantasy Med casual)

Domhan Pryde//Cellblock Ruins//Gathering the Party

A lot of gadgets for an attuned... Domhan thought as the man put a gun to his head. He was jumping to a bit of a conclusion; but the man had all sorts of little doohickeys, and he couldn't feel any metal in him... though he would have liked to have a touch to be sure. But still, why have that many gadgets but no implants unless you had something else going on? Regardless, the man was jumpy as hell, and Domhan wasn't quite so sure if this was such a good idea now: there was no safe way to walk away from here now that he had the man's attention.

"I'm not sure how much use you would be from a survival standpoint," the man remarked, before making a strange survival decision all on his own; switching over to a big gun against a close range target. Had Domhan wanted to, he could have killed him in the time it took him to pull it out... but then... why didn't he want to kill this asshole? Domhan supposed he might be an asshole, but he also seemed a capable one... And also one ready to fight back.

Domhan smiled at the number one quip - the man was more right than he knew. "Ah, but number one has to sleep eventually. Number one is probably planning to go to the same place that everyone else wants to go to - the ship's wreckage, hm? Does number one really think he can kill all of the prisoners, many as well trained as he thinks he is?" Domhan paused, stretching before passing his hand over part of the entryway, if one could call the large hole an entrance. As he did, the magic scurried down his fingers, and the top layer of metal peeled off and followed his hand. Contemplating the sheet of high grade titanium he had torn off, Domhan wound it around his left hand, creating a metallic fingerless glove that extended up to the middle of his forearm, underneath his jacket. He winked at the bounty hunter. "Some of us have no need for gadgets," he said as he turned around and walked off, making sure to move out of his direct sight line as soon as he was able, just in case the man picked that moment to go off his rails.

(@Irredeemable)

Stranded: Prisoner's Tale (sci-fi/fantasy Med casual)

Domhan Pryde//Cellblock Ruins//Escape

Domhan stood, staring at the man for a few moments, dumbfounded at him not having any weapons; then he started bending the bars open with his bare hands. "I suppose I'll be saving myself, then." Domhan sighed. whipping his hands straight out, palms down, he flicked both of his wrists thumb down. Two darts flew out from under his jacket and pierced the man straight through his eyes. The spikes popped out through the back of his head, and Domhan dropped his hands to his sides as the spikes returned to his pockets and the large man fell. No reason to be sticking around, at this point, he thought. Domhan considered his options... staying in the cell? Dying of starvation. Wandering back to the ship on his own? Murdered - almost certainly by the wildlife if the massess of inmates still alive don't get to me first. So that left...

He smiled. That left politics. Find a few men, convince them to come together, lead them... or let them lead him for a while. Whatever sowed harmony until they got off this planet and back to somewhere useful. With whom to ally himself? He supposed that beggars couldn't be choosers - as long as they don't attack me on sight. He sighed, and walked by the dead man, trailing a hand over his arms. Lots of metal... explains the whole shit with those... he thought, looking at the bent bars as he walked through them. looking down one end of the inverted hall, he saw a mangled mess of metal. to the other, another cell block or two, then an opening to the outside. Swampy looking. He exited, glad for his all-terrain weatherproof boots, and had a look around. Mostly clear, but there was a young man standing inside the mangled husk of another chunk of prison block - Domhan remembered him as one of the self-styled bounty hunters, "good guys working outside the law;" preposterous nonsense, but useful in this situation. He walked over, keeping out of his line of sight until he was close enough to react in time to the raising of his gun, then made himself visible.

"Neither of us desire being murdered by the others. Shall we travel together, in mutual protection?"

(@Irredeemable)

Stranded: Prisoner's Tale (sci-fi/fantasy Med casual)

Domhan Pryde//Cellblock A//Introduction

Domhan raised his head from his book, losing himself in thought for a moment. This prison ship was surprisingly pleasant, something of a temporary retirement. Well, usually. He had made enemies with at least 4 different inmates, despite the anti-aggression field - the barbarism of some of them knew no ends. But still, there were plenty of fun conversations. There was that one mass murderer, did a lot of it with her own blood? There were also the people who thought that there was still good on this earth, still something to protect. He saw that as the ultimate weakness - these bounty hunters and "innocent people" who thought that there was something worth fighting for outside the supremacy of ideas and acquisition of pleasure. It was easy enough to spin a story about giving to the poor of his planet after stealing from the evil corporations if they discovered his history, and all too often, it sucked them in. Such easy prey. The doctor, too, was a fun conversation partner - she hid little, and spoke in depth on medicine so eloquently. It was so much harder to find good talk back in the Prydesbane. So many younguns out for the money alone, no grand designs of power, nor twisted minds finding beauty in the kill.

On the other hand, when he was leading the Prydesbane, he wasn't stuck in this goddamned prison. He looked back to his book, not wanting to go down that route again, but the clank of his cell door opening indicated that it was dinner time. he looked across the small, featureless cell to the door. "Ah, Officer Xhaferi." Xhaferi, a short, fat Arraxi with a superiority complex, was far and away Domhan's least favorite guard. He was, as of current, completely unable to put into words his feeling about him, the anti-aggression field preventing that amount of vitriol from surfacing. "Your food, prisoner." Domhan nodded.

"my thanks? thank you sir? anything?" He demanded. Domhan raised an eyebrow and turned back to his book, his mind fighting the anti-aggression field. Xhaferi smack his book out of his hand, and Domhan was able to snap through the haze for a moment and strike a fighting stance, before confusion re-clouded his aggression and he slowly rose - and then stumbled as the ship lurched.

With the second lurch, Domhan knew what was happening. He also started to feel the fog leave his head, and he allowed himself a smug smile at Officer Xhaferi. "I hope you have a contingency plan for catastrophic engine failure." The now blanching officer ran out of the room as a third lurch hit and Domhan quickly moved to a wall. The anti-aggression field prevented him from actively infusing any metals of other inmates with his magic. The malicious intent was clear enough that he couldn't even think about doing such a thing for too long, a source of great annoyance to him. Magicing his own cell, however, was for the purposes of self-preservation. He figured the ship was probably on some sort of crash course - the guards that had opened up to him were often elderly single men or repeat rule-breakers, in addition to their insanely dangerous cargo. The ship probably had a 50/50 to survive landfall, but his age significantly lessened his chances. By strapping his head, arms, torso, and legs to the wall of the ship with bits of the floor, however, he braced his body far better.

The loss of the anti-aggression field was making all his emotions come back stronger, and his heart was high in his throat now with the third lurch, and he lost consciousness with the first impact to the ground.

Some fifteen minutes later, he re-awoke to horrific insect screeches outside. he realized he was upside-down, and gingerly tried to let himself down onto the rooffloor without too much of an impact. Right-side up, he saw the remains of Officer Xhaferi, torn in two, as one of the crazier inmates turned to face him. "just wait until I get through these bars, old man..."

The Last Embers (Dark Steampunk/Fantasy)

Galahand is a good choice to do the strategy bits. He knows to point me at the bad guys.

~Winds of Fate- A Thief's Adventure~

Boop Mk2, dropping this soon if Ark doesn't show