Avatar of Vega7
  • Last Seen: 11 mos ago
  • Joined: 6 yrs ago
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    1. Vega7 6 yrs ago

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6 yrs ago
“The crystal eats away at my mind but fills my soul. Perhaps this is as it was meant to be - mindless but blissful.”
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@Lumiere If it helps, I was starting to think of an idea for just mildly more advanced fantasy. Basically, the most advanced weapon would be a flintlock, which the dude I had in mind wouldn't use anyway, and the guy I was thinking of making was a dubiously legal man turned hero of the realm due to him stopping the Cult of Slattur, but then he was tragically defeated by King Kazzok. How does that idea sound?

Edit - He's also a fire and animation mage. Fire pertains to flames, explosions, and heat, but animation basically brings things into a sort of nonthinking but obedient life. Animation doesn't work on already living materials and is heavily regulated and licensed in the world of Cavenia, or at least was.
@Lumiere Urban fantasy, will do.
@Lumiere Alright, I'll hold off on the sci-fi and go more cyberpunk or maybe even a simple urban fantasy sort of deal. Which sounds better?
@Lumiere I was thinking of a guy with a cybernetic arm and energy pistol maybe, though his home universe would be maybe an Earth that's just barely reached into the stars (but not out of the solar system just yet, unless you're fine with a more spread out universe). He's possibly a clone. The point is is he might pass, but the universe itself, and the implications of it, might not.
Interested! One question - how far can tech go before it's too much? I like creating characters with a more tech-y tilt, so I was just wondering.
Also interested. If I have any questions or need advice on character creation I'll drop into the Discord.
This idea sounds pretty interesting to me. My idea so far is Castor Swaine, human Martian in an advanced age of humanity. He's a colonial guardsman on the distant planet of Odysseus, where a mysterious force in the alien wilderness has been whispering to him secrets and stories.

Abilities:
•Combat Training - Trained by his parents in basic self-defense, then trained by the United Colonies to be a colonial guardsmen in general combat expertise (but mostly geared towards defence against alien wildlife, though pirates are not an unknown threat).

Powers:
•Cybernetic Arm - A military grade cybernetic arm. He opted to have no skin cover it, choosing to instead flaunt its machine qualities. Capable of blocking bullets and crushing bones, not to mention moving with far more precise movements than a regular hand, allowing more accurate shots with a gun.

•Wired Nerves - His nervous system has also been enhanced, allowing him to react much faster than a normal human, roughly double speed.

??? - After making contact with the voice in the wilds, he's felt strange ever since. He gets migraines and stomachaches a lot, but he also seems almost superhuman. He barely feels pain, his eyesight seems... different, almost as if he is perceiving more shades of color, and his strength seems to have almost doubled, even with his non-cybernetic arm.

That's all I got so far. If you need anything changed, just say so.
Tyroch Trank / MV-1247


Clean.

A long time ago, Tyroch had been a filthy person, always unclean, always on spice or drunk or something bad. He'd had no concept of organization or structure in his life, just of when the next dose of Indigo would come.

Tyroch sniffed as he stared at the nearest wall. Those had been bad times, but they were so distant now. He felt comfortable on this giant slab of carefully designed machinery. That was another thing he liked about the Empire; their sense of... style, almost. Clean cut, uniform, not a hair out of place. Just the way Tyroch tried to keep himself. He had always flourished in urban environments, not that he didn't know how to handle a less uniform landscape. He felt similarly about ships, carefully maintained and graceful, at least in his eyes. Lotho Minor, on the other hand...

Tyroch stood up and started fixing his bunk. Earlier he had cleaned his weapon and shaved, so that was taken care of. His armor was still shining clean - though he himself was no shiny, no sir - and he wasn't hungry (or maybe he was, sometimes he didn't really notice). And as far as Tyroch knew, he had no orders at the moment. Maybe he could go... throw darts, or... something. Tyroch sighed. What he wanted was to serve the Empire, not to sit on one of its ships and stare at the stars. That's why he joined the stormtrooper corps.

Maybe he would just walk around a bit. Patrol. Make sure the armory had no rebels in it, or something like that. Tyroch stood, placing his helmet on his head just as a communique came through. "Alright troopers, I need you each ready and willing, then assembled in the hangar, we have a mission.” Tyroch sighed - but a happy sort of sigh - and began his walk to the hangar.

By the time he got there, making a stop to pick up his blaster, it turned out that practically everyone had turned up. Tyroch silently cursed - how did someone like himself end up late? - but took his place in formation. He stood silent. Most of these people he knew, except for one. He resisted the urge to question the new guy and talk to the rest of the crew (usually he addressed them by number, at least until they made a point to call them by something else). There wasn't a need for chatter at this moment. There was a mission coming up, and Tyroch was ready.
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