Avatar of TheMaster99
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    1. TheMaster99 10 yrs ago
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Status

Recent Statuses

6 yrs ago
Current Bio is finally redone! Still want to add more to it eventually, but I'm happy with it for now.
6 yrs ago
Might be active again soon™. Bio/etc definitely needs a lot of TLC.
2 likes
8 yrs ago
School and work on my birthday. Yay.
3 likes
9 yrs ago
OMG 33 on the ACT!!
1 like
9 yrs ago
Hmm.. maybe I should update this? ...Nah.

Bio


Luke aka TheMaster99

Nineteen | EST | Discord




About Me

I am a second year undergraduate student at the Rochester Institute of Technology which, as the name would suggest, is in Rochester, New York. I am studying Software Engineering – essentially, programming plus all of the processes, paperwork, etc. that I'll be doing in the real world. I have been programming in some capacity since I was eight, and once I discovered programming I simply never stopped writing code. Some of that code I've written was for this very website, and hopefully there will be a fair bit more of that in the near future.

I discovered programming in a game called ROBLOX, and coincidentally that is also where I first discovered roleplaying. One day I was exploring the forums, and noticed a roleplaying section. Curious, I took a look and I was instantly hooked. The content was mostly in the Free RP level, with a small amount of Casual tier games, but at the time even that was high quality content to me. Over the years my interest in the game faded, and although I continued programming after ultimately leaving the community, I did not continue roleplaying.

Years later, I gradually started wanting to get back into roleplaying. I began googling around, and after looking at a few different websites I finally decided that the Guild seemed to be the best of them all. I made an account on December 13, 2014, and started jumping into some games; I quickly decided on sticking to mostly High Casual, but eventually moved more towards Advanced as I realized that most of the games I was in were easily at that level anyway. This was right around the time that Mahz was working on rebuilding the website from the ground up, and after chatting with him for a while in the IRC during some site downtime I decided that I wanted to help.

I ultimately didn't contribute too much, but nevertheless I was the first (and so far, only) non-anonymous user to help Mahz with developing the website. As a reward, after he implemented the trophy system I was awarded the special Benevolent Cyberpunk trophy, which gives me a special userbit that looks like this:



After roughly a year and a half of being here, life started getting in the way more and more, and my activity became increasingly infrequent. Eventually, a little after the two year mark, I became completely inactive; I was in my senior year of high school, neck deep in college plans, and didn't have time for it anymore. I'd log in every now and then to check if I had missed anything, but until quite recently never stayed. I am back now, though, and hopefully I'm here to stay. I plan on getting back into roleplaying in the near future, and I also plan on starting to help out with the website once more. I've learned so much since when I first saw the code running the Guild, and hopefully I'll be significantly more helpful than I was back then!



Most Recent Posts

I would prefer limping along because new rp means new character (or redone character) and I am a lazy motherfucker and changing absolutely anything about my character would require work. Fuck that.

But seriously, if you guys would prefer to restart I don't mind, although I do still lean towards limping along., ALSO, HOLY SHIT SUB/SUP TAGS STACK!
#LukeWins2016 #Don'tMakeMeDrawOnYou #Fuck #WhereTheHellIsMyShrubbery #420 #IfYouDidn'tGetTheNicheReferenceWeCan'tBeFriends
Tom Porter

Upon draining his 634th glass, Tom glanced around at the group lining the bar. He sighed. "So... remind me again why is it that we have been on a retreat in Bavaria for six months, and all we've done is sit at the bar all day, every day?" he asked.

Twelve pairs of eyes turned in his direction. Jonas, with a chuckle, responded, "Well, what would you be doing if you were home?"

"...Touché," Tom conceded, as he poured the 635th class. He wondered how the Wolfs could possibly have enough alcohol to permit everyone to drink like it's water for half a year, and still have plenty in store. But then, with a smirk, he decided that on a manor where werewolves roam free, a Jigglypuff runs the show and six random Americans are brought halfway across the world just because they can, he had no right to be questioning the vastness of their wine cellar.
I'm still around, just been busy with that pesky school thing. Looking forward to the Christmas break.
In Mahz's Dev Journal 9 yrs ago Forum: News
@Mistress Yes, PM management in general will have a lot of work done eventually.

And for future reference, you could have searched for it with the search page, which has a button on the top of the website. You can search everywhere, specific forums, or specific topics, which would be the most helpful in this case.
In Mahz's Dev Journal 9 yrs ago Forum: News
@Twhirtley To my knowledge, the only "GM tools" planned would be a "0th" post on each tab that the GM+Co-GMs can edit, to put important information/etc in. Post deletion, editing, etc. will definitely not be included.
If any of us were going to leave, we'd probably have done it months ago
Yeah, no one here has been particularly active recently. School/university/work/life tends to get in the way of fun things like running away from wealthy German werewolves roleplaying!
In Mahz's Dev Journal 9 yrs ago Forum: News
Just to re-up my intel, is this is only an issue on your Firefox 38 on [desktop] Linux device?


Just going to point out that this hasn't been an issue on my Linux install, so I frankly have no idea what could be causing it, unless it is specific to Shienvien's distro. (I'm using Linux Mint Cinnamon, version 17.1/whatever the newest version was when I last booted into it, and latest firefox at the time) I'd be extremely surprised if it was a problem specific to their device(s) but I haven't experienced it, so it must be some obscure bug I'd think.
Angel

Featuring: Trish


Angel nodded in response to the captain’s order to watch the shipment. There were bound to be plenty of thugs trying to find something valuable, and she was the most obvious candidate for guard duty. Still, she hardly jumped for joy at the thought of pacing the cargo hold for who-knows-how-long on the off chance that someone was able to break in, or even had the desire to do so. So it was no surprise when, after an hour of uneventful pacing, Angel yawned and decided that she could go ahead and sleep for a bit. What were the odds of a thief breaking into our ship, anyway?




Angel woke up with a start, as a loud yell erupted from the corridor. Grumbling to herself about noisy crewmates, she was unable to discern what the voices were saying, although she could make out who was doing the yelling – Jinxy and Trish. What could they possibly be arguing about? Angel wondered annoyedly, as the voices began to die down. Knowing there was no chance of getting back to sleep now, and curious (and worried) about what the argument may have been about, she sat up and strode to the door, poking her head out timidly to find the corridor deserted. Locking the door behind her, Angel walked across the hall and knocked on Trish’s door.

Trish hadn’t even heard the first few knocks on her door, she was to self absorbed, too busy remembering the days she’d spent with her father. She was a prisoner there too, not physically restrained, but was unable to survive without him. Being back in the same situation brought the taste of bile to her throat, and she was regretting ever having deciding to trust Jinxy with her plan. If she’d just taken the fuel, instead of asking, she’d already have the procedure done, probably wouldn’t have even known about the blasted canisters, wouldn’t have given into the temptation of selling them. But at least she now knew where she stood. She was just a useless pet of the captain’s, something he’d bought and was probably regretting.

When she finally did notice the knocking, she just assumed it was the captain again, coming to berate her further. Just loud enough to be heard, “Come in,” the defeat in her voice more than evident. She didn’t move from the center of her bed, didn’t stop hugging her legs to her chest, and didn’t even bother to look up to see who was entering. She just didn’t care any more, which was exactly what Jinxy had accused her of in the first place. Maybe the mechanic was right. After all, who did she care about other than herself?

Angel entered, closing the door behind her, and gently sat on the edge of the bed. ”What’s wrong, Trish? What was all that about?” she asked, the concern clear on her face.

And of course it was Angel. The one she actually did feel… something for, even if she couldn’t put words to it. She hadn’t even thought of the blonde during all the shit she’d just done and gone through, further confirming her own selfishness. She looked up, finding a bit of comical comfort in the hood that never left Angel’s head. Her eyes couldn’t meet Angel’s as her despair converted to shame in her presence. Would she end up lying to her as well? Putting her in danger too? Maybe that was why Trish was bad with people, because in the end, all of them were better off having never met her, and she knew it. She tried to speak, stumbling over her tongue a few times before finally, “I messed up Angel… You don’t even know it, but I put your life, and everyone else’s, in danger, for money. I..” thought I was doing right… “You shouldn’t be around me, especially with how the captain sees me now.”

”You really think I give a damn what Amir thinks of any of us? He’s no better than any of us, that’s why the only crew he can get is, well… us, she responded softly, not having the slightest clue where this sudden compassion came from. Nevertheless, she was more concerned than she had been when she first entered the room. ”What happened?”

Trish really didn’t want to rehash this all, but Angel was completely in the dark, so she tried to keep it short and succinct, her voice wavering and soft during the entire explanation, “We found canisters in the cargo, and the previous captain’s diary stating them to be space sickness. It took most of his crew, a leaky one or something. I decided, on my own and without telling or asking anyone, to try and sell one of them. I didn’t even sell it, just got a price. When I got back, Jinxy and Amir jumped my shit, and when I tried to leave ship, Amir threatened to call the GA on me, for what I am. So I’m forced to stay, as his hostage.” Trish had even surprised herself in the fact that she spoke the truth. Which told her a lot about herself. Muttering very low now, “I’m a slave again.”

As Trish recounted what had happened, Angel wasn’t sure where she stood on the matter. If the canisters were very valuable, it would make sense to try to sell them… but at the same time, the thought of what the buyer might do with it was worrying, to say the least. Angel sighed; nothing in life is black and white, just a confusing gray. ”If it really is space sickness, it would make sense to offload it as soon as possible. However, although getting paid handsomely for it is… tempting, I must admit that I’d probably be opposed to it, for exactly the reason that I was opposed to your initial escape plan from the station,” she said, choosing her wording carefully to try to avoid upsetting Trish even more than she already was.

Everyone was so worried about space sickness. Before today, Trish hadn’t even thought it was real. Sure, she’d heard the stories, the tall tales, the flat out lies like everyone in the verse had, but she’d just shrugged them all off. But in the end, it always came back to the fact that Trish was fine with killing people, innocents or not, and the rest weren’t. She was a monster among thieves. Everything she’d think, everything she’d do, would be looked at with disgust and fear by the rest of the crew, because she wasn’t like them. Trish moved to get up, wanting to do something with her hands, while she tried to figure out what to say next. Everyone else was already done with her, for she assumed Beth had been informed by now, and whoever that other guy was, so Angel was the only person Trish even possibly had a chance at having a semblance of trust in.

She moved over to her bag, that had been unceremoniously dumped on the floor, pulling out her meager belongings, lastly the little statuette of the grenade they’d found. She gingerly put that on the desk in her room, and sat down, staring at the wall. “I… I’m not used to relying on others, to thinking about others, Angel. It’s always just been me versus the universe. I’m selfish, and I know it. If I had sold it, I would’ve turned over the money, because a better ship, parts for me to work with, would make life safer and easier for me. I thought I was doing it for everyone, but they’re right. It was only for me. As it always is.” She looked over at Angel, just a couple feet away on the bed, her eyes once more filling with tears at this rare admission. She didn’t enjoy being a monster, but as usual, it was all she knew.

Angel couldn’t help but give a solemn smile. ”Well, it isn’t just you anymore… it’s us against the universe now. So get used to it,” she said lightly, and then she reached over and hugged Trish for the briefest of moments, before realizing what she had done. Separating, she stared down at the floor, fighting to suppress a blush.

Trish was definitely surprised by the hug she found herself in, especially following the show of camaraderie that Angel had given her. But she didn’t flinch as she normally would’ve when someone, anyone, invaded her personal space like that. And for the briefest of moments, she embraced Angel in return. It was over as quickly as it had begun, not blushing but unable to look at Angel, for a different reason now. “I… I’ll try. And… I’m sorry that I may or may not have almost maybe gave you space sickness…. Is it really that bad?”

Angel laughed at the triple conditional apology, as the mood seemed to darken. ”Yeah, it’s… pretty bad,” she answered. ”I haven’t seen it myself, but as far as I know, all the stories are relatively accurate.” As the conversation resumed, Angel’s mind raced. Why had she done that? Why didn’t Trish stop her, when everything she knew about her suggested that she would? Why, why, why?

Trish nodded, wondering if this could be taken as truth, or just the furthering of the myth. She realized that she should’ve asked the doctor she’d met with. But it was a bit late for that, as she doubted she’d ever see the doctor again, per captain’s orders. Unknowns like that often made Trish obsessive, but she found her eyes being drawn over to the woman that had somehow calmed her down seemingly effortlessly. There was something, different about Angel right now, and Trish couldn’t peg it. She wasn’t sure if it was bad or not, or if it was anything at all. But Angel had shown her kindness, understanding even if it wasn’t accompanied by condonement. She scooted over closer, staying just out of what she assumed was Angel’s personal space, “I just want you to know… That I…,” before getting a bit quieter, stating simply, “Thank you Angel.”

Finally, Angel made eye contact with Trish. ”No problem,” she replied. ”You would have done the same for me.” But was that true? She barely knew her, really. If anything, it seemed more likely that she wouldn’t have. Yet for some reason, Angel was sure that she would. ”Well, I’ll see you at dinner, okay?”

Trish really hoped that she would’ve done the same for Angel, for she wasn’t entirely sure. But now, and from now on, she knew that she would. Her gaze softened a bit as Angel started to excuse herself, reminding her that dinner, and Amir’s ship meeting, were coming soon, bringing more dread to the woman. Without thinking, her hand reached out and grasped Angel’s, just a bit more tears stinging her eyes, “Thank you again, and, I look forward to it.” Trish decided one last thing needed done, and knew that Angel wouldn’t understand.

She stood up, letting go of the woman’s hand, and pulled the remaining item from her bag. It was the rig designed to attach the bomb to one of her ribs. She placed it on her desk, grabbed her statuette, and with three swift blows, left it in pieces. Sure, she could’ve disassembled it, used the parts for something else. But there was something about the symbolism that she felt she needed. She scooped the parts into a small pile atop her desk, and moved over toward Angel, to show her out, even if she didn’t really want her to leave.

Angel was just as surprised by Trish grabbing her hand as Trish had been by her hug, but this time she didn’t show it. She watched as Trish destroyed the device, assuming the action held some significance that she was not privy to, then nodded as Trish made to show her out. ”See you at dinner,” she said over her shoulder as she walked through the opened door, unlocking her own and crossing the threshold without looking back. Locking it behind her, she slid down onto the floor, pondering the events that had just unfolded.

Trish smiled at Angel’s departing words, and watched her leave. When the door slid shut, hissed lock, Trish found a hand pressed flat against the cool metal. Did Angel really have to leave? This had been one of the only moments since the crew had come together that Trish could’ve called pleasant, despite the circumstances. There had been a few of these moments, and all had been with Angel. Her hand hovered over the control panel, her fingers wanting to hit the unlock, to open the door, to ask the woman to come back. Moments passed, Trish’s mind trying to decide what she wanted versus what was smart. Her hand dropped, making Trish feel like a coward, once more kept helpless by her own mind.

Then her stubbornness took over, and she hit the open button, listening as the door hissed open, hoping Angel was still there. She saw an empty corridor, and her face fell into a frown. Peering her head out, she saw no one along the length of it and sighed. She turned and closed her door behind her, wondering what she could do now to keep her mind busy, so that she wouldn’t obsess about this ship wide meeting, where she would likely be the center of the attention and ire. At least Angel would be there.
Angel

Featuring: Amir

Angel finished getting dressed as she listened to the captain acting as a tour guide over the intercom; she had just woken up, having slept for much of the journey to Oberon, mostly because there hasn’t been much else to do. “Someone good at negotiation,” the captain had said. However, Angel had a funny feeling that he wasn’t looking for someone that could negotiate at all; rather, he wants someone to make his negotiations easier – and naturally, the ability to move things (or people) at will is rather intimidating.

Checking briefly to make sure her hood was up, she left her room, locking the door behind her. As she entered the cargo bay, the light temporarily blinded her. Her eyes adjusted, and she could start to make out that Amir was already there, sitting on the stairs.

”Expert negotiator reporting for duty,” she said, not bothering to greet the captain as she leaned against the wall next to him.

Amir looked up as she approached, scarf billowing around his neck from the dry, hot breeze ripping through the open bay. “Just what I was looking for.” The captain nodded and straightened up, no longer leaning against one of the massive supporting pillars that kept the ship, well, a ship in the vast emptiness of space. “You all good to attend a ‘business meeting’?”

Angel nodded. ”I have a bit of ‘business’ to take care of myself. I could do with some more Psyche…” she trailed off, looking outside. It was obviously going to be hot, and she wished for a moment that she didn’t need to wear a hood. But unfortunately, there is no chance of that happening. She’d rather wear a jacket in the desert than deal with what would happen if she went without.

The captain nodded in acceptance, if not understanding of her Psyche addiction. “There’s a couple of places you can find it, but they’re all off the beaten track. Coincidentally, they’re also where we’re going.” He looked down at the paper list in his hand, an inventory of what they wanted to ‘buy’. “And I’ve already got it down to get you some, for emergencies.”

Angel nodded. ”I guess we better get out there, then. I’m sure that list is fairly extensive,” she said, gesturing towards the paper that Amir held. He nodded, and without another word the captain led her out into the desert, adjusting his scarf as they descended.



By the time the meeting was finished and Amir was escorting the first of five shipments back to the ship, he felt like he had been doused in fine perfumes and coated with a layer of sand that stuck to him like glue. Light grey trousers were now a shade of angry brown, and his mechanical arm – even somewhat safe and half-covered by a sleeve – felt sluggish and unresponsive from the dust caking its inner wirings. The winds were picking up, and the captain even said to their mysterious benefactor (whose name was Red, so far as he knew), that he wasn't aware there was to be a storm on Oberon anytime soon.

Red frowned, and walked off in another direction. "Remember, Khan! You've got three days!"

Amir grimaced, and glanced at Angel before pinning his gaze back to the amber horizon. For all that he'd been worried about it, the meeting with his former associates had gone smoothly. As expected, his name didn't hold as much weight as it used to – it was worth less than nothing. If he had to namedrop another few warlords, ones he wasn't really friends with (but Red didn't know any better), then Amir hoped it didn't get back to the Waegu fleet.

Their known cargo, the few DA weapons and the rest of it, wasn't worth buttons. It was the promise to do business, to handle some off-the-books work – that was worth a damn. The list Jinxy had written up from him was now in the hands of Red, and in trade the businessman had given him information, and a simple command: "Deal with it."

It was almost like he was a mercenary again, following orders from suits.

The first crate peeked above the sharp hill the ship was parked on at just after noon, pushed and pulled by a squad of hired goons. Amir and Angel didn't even need to get their hands dirty after all. In there were the common parts, the items already in stock and easy to find around Logan, but they would need to spend a full five days on the junkyard planet anyway for the rarer parts. It appeared that Jinxy had expensive tastes.

Amir hopped up the ramp and into the cargo bay just ahead of the shipment, rapping on the metal frame (in such a gesture that made him nostalgic for the old days) and then – after shaking his head at his own eccentricity – slamming on the voice comms button.

"Who's all still on the ship? I got some of the stuff on the list,” he said. The crate was hauled up the ramp, and Amir gave a dismissive wave to the goons as they retreated back towards the town. “And something for us to do.”
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