Wildtide

[High Casual] Frontier: The Great Space Rebellion

Tide casually stopped Risty's cigarette pack as it skidded across the table, nodding his thanks as he removed one of the methols, before sliding the packet back across the table to her. He leaned back in his chair, the cheap plastic creaking ominously, and nonchalently flicked the unlit cigarette upwards, catching it in the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry Doc," he grinned, "I'll make sure to open a window on the ship." His eyes met Nicki Sharpe's for a moment. A very brief moment. Somewhere, deep in his animal hindbrain, a little warning alarm was going off - Run! Fast!.

Blissfully unaware of why he was doing it, Tide turned his attention away from the medic, and reached down to heft his backpack onto the table. It was something of an old relic, made of thick gray canvas, and covered in pockets that fastened closed with buckles and straps. He could have replaced it with something better - maybe something that was actually waterproof - but he'd grown rather fond of it over the years.

"I've got a lighter in here somewhere," he mumbled, pulling random bits of clothing and equipment out of his pack. "It's a nice one too. Was a present." As he dug deeper into the recesses of his pack, he pulled out a scratched and battered looking communicator. It was pulsing red along one edge, and beeping softly. With a quick glance in Caelum's direction, he stuffed the device back into his pack, and continued rifling through the pockets. Eventually he found what he was looking for; a slightly tarnished silver lighter, inscribed across the front in flowing script - For my little pootles, love always, Marley.

"Yeah, I think it might have been second-hand," he said with a wry grin, flicking the lighter open to light his cigarette. "So, anyway. I'm Tide. I'm probably here to carry stuff."

[High Casual] Frontier: The Great Space Rebellion

Dipper said
Hey hey hey, Risty's a SOCIOPATH, not a Psycopath. Don't be insulting. >:(

ROFL. Well, obviously *I* know that (*cough*), but Tide... y'know... he ain't so bright :)

[High Casual] Frontier: The Great Space Rebellion

Dipper said
Aww, I'm sorry about that~!

Hehe. no probs, it was just some random nonsense anyway...

Wildtide said
Tide leaned back in the chair, the cheap plastic creaking ominously. "No problem Doc," he replied, "I'll just open a window." Trying not to smile at his own bad joke, he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table, meeting Nicki's eyes for a moment. A very brief moment. Somewhere, deep in his animal hindbrain, a little warning alarm was going off. Blissfully unaware of why he was doing it, Tide allowed his gaze to wander over to the other members of the crew.

He started trying to slot people into their roles. Medic: check. Pilot: the harrassed looking woman surrounded by files had to be Caelum Jameson, check. Angry psychopathic prisoner: che... yeah, that probably wasn't on the roster. Tide gave up at that point, and instead reached down and hefted his pack onto the table. It was something of an old relic, made of thick gray canvas, and covered in pockets that fastened closed with buckles and straps. He could have replaced it with something better - maybe something that was actually waterproof - but he'd grown rather fond of it over the years.

"I've got some of them pills in here somewhere," he mumbled, pulling random bits of clothing and equipment out of his pack. "You know, the ones that stop you wanting to smoke. Can't seem to find 'em though. Oh well, it's not like I'm gonna go apeshit it I can't have a cigarette." Crap. I'm gonna go f'kin apeshit if I can't have a cigarette!

As he dug deeper into the recesses of his pack, he pulled out a scratched and battered looking communicator. It was pulsing red along one edge, and beeping softly. With a quick glance in Caelum's direction, he quickly stuffed the device back into his pack, and dropped it onto the floor. "So, anyway. I'm Tide. I'm probably here to carry stuff" he said with a wry smile.

[High Casual] Frontier: The Great Space Rebellion

Lol, wrote my next post, was just about to submit it, and Dipper's broken it :)

[High Casual] Frontier: The Great Space Rebellion

Quick question...

Would it be wrong for Tide to respond to F# before everyone else has posted something IC? (this is my first RP on here, so I'm not exactly sure what the etiquette is for posting - I'm assuming it kinda works in rounds like a tabletop DnD game, but not sure).

[High Casual] Frontier: The Great Space Rebellion

Agh, Thomas sneaked into the building while I was writing my post... gonna have to alter the last couple of paragraphs :)

[High Casual] Frontier: The Great Space Rebellion

Tide was awakened from a paricularly pleasant day-dream by the shrill hiss of pneumatic brakes, as the truck he'd hitched a ride in shuddered to a halt by the side of the road. "We're there", the old driver told him, looking puzzled. Tide leaned forward to get a better view from the truck's large windows. Tall trees stretched away into the distance along both sides of the road, broken only by a narrow dirt track that disappeared into the dense forest close to where the truck was parked.

"You sure this is the place?" asked Tide.

"Well, those co-ords you gave me aren't on the road, they're about a kilometer that way," replied the driver, gesturing in the direction of the muddy track, "Maybe there's something down there?". Tide nodded, swinging the door open and jumping down from the cab, dragging his canvas backpack down after him. He slung the heavy pack over one shoulder, waved his thanks to the driver, and slammed the door shut. He watched the truck rumble away down the road in a cloud of diesel smoke and dust, with a resigned sigh. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been dumped in the middle of nowhere by someone keen to be rid of the 'big ugly bastard', before he could rob and murder them, or sexually assault their dog, or whatever the hell it was people thought he was going to do to them.

He took one last look around him, hoping to spot something a bit more civilised looking than a tree, but there was nothing. He dug a squashed cigarette packet out of one of his many pockets, and tapped it upside down on the palm of his hand. Empty. Fucking typical. He dropped the empty packet on the ground, hoisted his pack further up onto his shoulder, and set off into the trees.

The path was deeply rutted with wide tyre tracks, which gave Tide the slight hope that it might actually lead somewhere. It still came as something of a surprise to him though, when the trees opened up into a large clearing around a dilapidated looking building. A rusted sign at the edge of the path proclaimed in faded white lettering that this was indeed 'Frontier 60'. He was just about to cross the muddy ground to the doorway, when the unmistakable roar of rocket engines from above made him hesitate. An alliance shuttle was dropping towards the clearing, white hot spears of flame from its landing thrusters scorching the mud and grass in front of the building as it settled onto the ground.

Tide waited in the treeline, watching with puzzled interest as three figures emerged from the shuttle and disappeared into the building; two heavily armed guards, escorting a woman with her hands cuffed behind her back. Was this going to be a convict delivery mission? It'd be a shame if it was - the prisoner looked a hell of a lot more interesting than most of the women he'd seen so far on this world, though judging by the amount of armour those guards had been wearing, maybe she was one to steer clear of.

Almost as soon as they'd gone into the building, the guards were back, minus their prisoner. The shuttle was lifting away from the ground before the doors had finished closing, and it quickly disappeared above the trees, leaving Tide alone once more in the clearing. He was just about to start towards the building, when a figure appeared from the trees in front of him. Tide hung back, watching the man cross the clearing to enter the building by the same door the guards had used. He waited a couple more minutes, before following the man into the building. He found himself in a reception area, where a wide-eyed, dazed looking receptionist stared at him from behind her desk. "Medusa?", she stammered.

"Err, yeah. Medusa", replied Tide. The receptionist pulled a thin folder out from under her desk, handed it to him, and silently nodded towards the large cafeteria behind the reception area. He treated her to his best smile, which for some reason didn't seem to calm her down at all, and strode into the cafeteria.

There were four other occupants of the large room, sitting around a table at the far end. He recognised the prisoner from the shuttle as one of them, though she didn't seem to be under guard any more, which only added to Tide's confusion. He weaved his way between the tables and chairs that filled the room, his heavy boots echoing loudly on the tiled floor, until he reached the group. He dropped his pack on the floor by the table and sat down on one of the empty chairs.

"Alright?" he grinned, "Anyone got a smoke?"

[High Casual] Frontier: The Great Space Rebellion

Thanks :)

I won't be changing anything fundamental, so if you're happy to accept him now, that's great. I want to flesh out his history a bit more, but I'll probably take my time over it.

And yep, Jayne rocks!

[High Casual] Frontier: The Great Space Rebellion

Hi folks.

This sounds really interesting - I've started working on a CS for a general crew member type... dropping it here for now, but it needs a lot more work. Let me know if this is heading in the right direction :)

- Wild

Devan Tide

Devan Tide
AKA: Tide



Gender: Male
Age: 24
Date of Birth: c2576
Birthplace: "Merlon's Halt" Ice Mining Station, Deep Colony Planet Arkadia, Theta-019 System

Distinguishing Features:
An imposing character, Tide stands 6' 4" tall, heavily built, with short dark hair and a close cropped beard. A long scar runs from the corner of his left eye, down his cheek, adding to his menacing appearance. He is usually unshaven, wearing heavy black combat boots, only half laced up, with loose fitting combat pants and a grubby T-shirt.

Personality:
Tide is quick to laugh, and quick to anger. Not much scares him, and he will follow orders to the death as long as the person giving them has earned his respect. He won't suffer fools, and he won't hide his feelings from anyone. He will usually stand up for the "little guy", protecting the weak if he feels they deserve protection. However, he lives by his own complex code that even he doesn't fully understand, so predicting his response to a situation can be difficult.

Likes: Tide loves to gamble, especially with cards, but he'll bet on anything. He likes good drink, women, and a fair fight.

Dislikes: Tide hates bullying, especially from what he considers weak people in positions of authority.

Talents: Tide is exceptionally strong, and is a competent (though untrained) fist fighter. He can use guns when needed, though he tends to adopt the "hail of bullets" approach, rather than being a particularly good shot. He also has a rudimentary ability to pilot simple ships, and basic engineering skills. He has been able to find work as general crew aboard a number of freighters in the outer systems, where his ability to provide bodyguard "muscle" for trade captains is seen as an added bonus.

Family: Unknown

History:

There were probably worse places to grow up than Merlon's Halt, but Tide hadn't found any yet. Born amidst the rust, oil and steam of an ice mining station's boiler room, he'd had to fight for his very first breath, and things hadn't really improved since. He was just another unwanted mouth to feed; a useless infant crying for attention from a bitter crew that wanted nothing more than to get off the frozen ball of hell they were forced to call home.

How he survived his first years in that place, he had no idea. Someone had looked out for him, but he didn't know who, or why. His earliest memories were a jumbled mess - days spent hiding amongst the sweat and steam of a tangled forest of iron pipes and snaking cables, trying not to be noticed; trying not to get in the way; trying not to earn any new bruises.

Of course, not everyone on the station was cruel or vindictive, but enough were. However, even being noticed by the friendlier members of the crew was rarely a good thing. On a good day, he'd find himself scraping mould from the walls, or hauling mag-carts down to the loading docks. On a bad day, he'd be outside in an enviro-suit six sizes too big for him, chipping away at sheets of ice that would re-form as quickly as he could remove them from the station's panels.

As he grew, things did change for Tide. He grew fast - by the time he reached the age of fourteen, he was already taller than most of the men on the station, and a lifetime of manual labour had given him a wiry strength, which turned to solid muscle as he continued to grow. Where he'd spent his formative years as a punchbag for bitter and disgruntled miners, now he began to fight back, and he was good at it. He didn't fear being hurt - after all, what did he have to lose?

At age eighteen, he started training to pilot the heavy shuttles that were used to loft the vast water tanks into orbit, a skill which gave him the freedom to escape the confines of the station for a precious few hours at a time. It was while sitting in the cockpit of one of these shuttles, waiting for a break in a particularly violent ice storm, that Tide made the decision that would change the course of his life for good.

Gazing out of the cockpit window into a solid white wall of ice and hail, something clicked inside him. Without really knowing what he was doing, or what he was going to do next, he slammed the throttle levers open, and, as the ship began to slowly drag itself up from the scorched, blackened concrete launchpad, he released the docking clamps that held onto the heavy water tanks within the belly of the shuttle.

Sitting in the pilot's seat, gently humming to himself as the shuttle hurled itself away from the planet surface, the precious cargo crashing down onto the launch platform below, he felt an enormous sense of relief and freedom wash over him...

He'd left Merlon's Halt behind, and he had no intention of ever going back.

Theme Song: I Know it Hurts (Alter Bridge)