Futuristic Retro Spacer Adventure

[Bronco]

Circum Four, named Circum on account of being apart of the Circum Line of hab stations and numbered four for being the fourth and final produced. Able to support 5,000 crew and 8,000 temporary residents, Circum Five served as one of five total ports positioned in Sector Six. The fifth station was independent of the Circum Line of habs, belonging instead to General Planetary Extractions (GPE) and serving as a much larger platform for refining ores. As a result of the refinery’s presence, Circum Four found itself continually servicing battered mining craft. Not only did they hang just outside of Statrum’s ring (like the other three Circum habs), but they also housed the finest engineering spaces in the sector.


Now while the station itself is strictly meant for service and housing, the patrons that make it their temporary home tend to deal in far more than simply mechanics. It’s a problem many ports face really, rambunctious spacers or sleezy drifters setting up some kind of shady business for a few months before moving on. However, it seems that Circum Four has faced exceptional difficulty in limiting these acts, almost to the point of rolling over entirely. Credits continually swap hands as deals are made with security and corridors fall under the command of obscure crime bosses. To be fair it’s not that terrible when everyone’s on board with current affairs, though the Navy may see it differently.


Yes, the Navy. Specifically speaking, the Third Expeditionary Fleet is currently taking a tour of the sector and its celestial objects. Roughly a month ago, a Confederate fleet was uprooted from the planet of Crystan (a primarily icey planet in Sector 7) and it was strongly believed they’d be making for the inner belt (asteroid belt) to regroup. That meant cutting through sector six, as the belt was quite literally the border between that and the fifth. So, the Navy’ll be making its way through to hopefully cut them off, uprooting criminal gangs as they do so.


It’s rumored that their next stop is to be Circum Three, in orbit not far from Four’s current position. It’s obvious which station they’ll sweep next, and now long established scoundrels are attempting to jump ship. Still, the more level headed bosses think they can remain under the radar if they play their cards right. This meant getting their contraband and other products off station, all of it had to go, and they are willing to pay private crews a handsome reward to do so.

​

 

[Bronco]

(Use OOC for join requests, thanks)

 

[Shannon Trevor]

Rene Vasseur

​

Age: 38

Gender: Female

​

Build:Muscular

Height: 5'11

Weight:170 lbs

Scars/Markings: 1x scar on left cheek

Cybernetics: None

Personality:

Integrity: When It Suits

Impulsiveness: Low

Boldness: High

Flexibility: High

Interactivity: High

Conformity: Low

Sense of Humor: Black

Flaws:
Rene is supremely confident, perhaps overly so. Whilst talented and capable, she has a habit of being headstrong and is often quick to dive into situations if the only danger presented is to herself . Although usually patient, Rene would also be the first to admit that she is too quick to anger when the right buttons are pushed.

Skills:
Rene is well versed in small arms and explosives. She is an excellent shot and a skilled hand-to-hand combatant. Perhaps more vitally, Rene has age and experience on her side.

Equipment:
1x Pistol
1x Personal Slate
1x Stainless Steel Chronograph Wristwatch

 

[Mechking]

The Emperor of the galaxy, most glorious of all janitors and ruler of the space-time continuum: Crazy Space-Janitor Dave!

Appearance: Short black hair, green eyes, well maintained short black beard. 1,90m or 6'2 tall and slightly muscular. Wears a full Admiral uniform underneath his janitorial apron, including the cap.

Age: Unkown, looks around 30

Race: Human? I mean, he looks like one, but he definitely doesn't act like one

Gender: Male

Cybernetics:
Body strength, speed, and durability enhancements (not visible)
Stun immune (Not cybernetically, he just has been shocked too many times)


Skills:
Janitorial expert (Duh)
Hacking expert (Nearly never uses it)
Excellent cook (No he really isn't)
Good engineer
Basic handgun and hand-to-hand combat skills

Crazy Space-Janitor Dave:
Just some random crazy person who believes himself to be Emperor David, one of the most wanted men (and other genders) of the galaxy. His constant crazy talk and declarations of greatness can be very annoying, but he is a very good janitor. Like, crazy good. He has entire ships cleaned before you blink. He lets you sparkle as if you were a freshly washed unicorn. He even undertakes small repairs. Just don't question it. Especially not how he cleaned your underwear.
His hobbies include going on a spacewalk with Space Dog and annoying everyone. But most of the time he just cleans the ship (and the crew) while rambling about his great deeds and talking to anyone who doesn't want to listen.


Emperor David:
Leader of a large fleet of pirates and mercenaries. Are currently taking over sectors on the other side of the galaxy in order to build their own imperium.
But Dave isn't him, you see? They may look similar, but Dave's beard is by far not as pretty! Hey, I heard that!


Space Dog:
It is a dog. In space. How did it get there? Don't ask, you will get a different answer every time. Dave gave this perfectly normal dog the most creative name he could think of: Space Dog. Because it's a dog. In space. Dave, why? Just why??? SPACE DOG!


Equipment:
Janitorial equipment - Self-explanatory
A perfectly normal stun gun - No, why would it have a lethal setting? You are talking nonsense!
Personal dataslate - His own personal dataslate. Don't try to take it away from him or hack into it, just don't. It can somehow communicate to the other side of the galaxy. No, it can't!
Space Dog - A dog in space

 

[MToki]

(This is an older cs from an rp that died, the character was still good though, so I just revamped him a little, let me know if there's any issues)

BASIC INFORMATION

Name: Dr. Thomas Vladmir Siyanski
Aliases: Dr. Vlad, Tom, Doc
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Role: Medic

PERSONAL
Sexuality: Bisexual
High Concept: Intelligent, inexpensive, and only slightly inhumane
Character Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Organizations\Affiliations: TBD


PHYSICAL

Spoiler: FC

Written Appearance:
Blue eyes, dirty blonde hair, a small, round face that would make him look a lot younger than he is, if it weren't for his soulless eyes, About 5'7, quite lean, oddly thin arms (or arm, I guess), veiny hands, and a lot of bags under his eyes. His skin looks almost concerningly pale with some dry patches here and there.
Not exactly fashion forward, Tom wears blank t-shirts, a hoodie if he's feeling cold, along with either black gym shorts or grey sweatpants. As for footwear, basic black sneakers or simple slippers. He's all about comfort over appearance
His appearance overall is a clumsily put together mess that just shouts; "I haven't slept in a week and my diet is mostly coffee grounds and energy drinks, but I don't give a fuck."
He has a prosthetic arm that connects to his shoulder. This is the only part of Tom that is sparkly clean. The shoulder is mostly scar tissue, and looks rather gruesome to the faint of heart.

Cybernetics:
Only a few cybernetic enhancements have been implemented, all of which involve his prosthetic. Most of them are for sensory effects, like feeling the heat of fire or the rough texture of materials. His arm can also display screens and basically acts like a mobile phone.

Spoiler: Prosthetic

Weapons & Armor:
- A pistol that shoots syringes of anesthetics/poisons that numb, paralyze, or just kill the enemy.
- Portable Med Kit. Contains all the basic stuff: bandages, extra anesthetic, etc
- No real armor, except for his arm.
- Small pocket knife

Items & Personal Belongings:
- A miniature succulent named Ivan
- Small vials of various (legal?) chemical substances
- A flask labeled "Life Juice"
- A framed family photo

Personality:
+ Very Intelligent: Though he may be a lazy, possibly insane scientist, he is still a scientist. Tom is a doctor for a reason, medical training didn't just fall into his lap after all. He has a high learning curve, extremely good memory, and knows a lot about organic and chemical structures.
+ Fearless: Tom fears nothing and no one. It's just how he is. He just stopped caring about a lot of things and as a result things stopped scaring him.
+ Flexible: His entire life philosophy is all about going with the flow and letting things happen as they do. He's never going to be the one panicking over future plans or stressing out over mishaps, he's learned to accept situations as they are and continue on with ease.

- Irresponsible: Don't expect him to be prepared for everything, because he's barely prepared for his every day. Sure, you can rely on him to patch you up or give you medical advice, but don't even try to get him to do something in the future. Tasks have to be given to him when they can be done, otherwise he'll just forget about them.
- Careless: He doesn't care about you, himself, or anything else, well, except Ivan. Though he's still pretty young and has a long way to go in his life, he's stopped caring it about it a long time ago. If you want him to care about you or your cause, you're going to have to stick around for a while. His walls are as dense as a neutron star, but give him time and he'll let you in.
- Impulsive: He lives in the moment and sometimes he skips over the thinking part of decision making and just follows his instincts.

Skills & Abilities:
+ Medical Professional: He's one of the best and he knows it. If you need good quality work in half the time of the average doctor, then you call Tom. He's trained to work a multitude of procedures in a wide range of environments, making him a rather fitting battle medic.
+ Evasive: Although he's not much of an athlete, he's pretty good at losing people who are trailing him and not being hit.
+ Strong Resistance to Narcotics: Tom was pretty wild back in the old days and even though he's calmed down quite a lot, his body is still resistant to drugs and alcohol.

Weaknesses:
- Can't Swim: He's just never been taught how and hasn't bothered to try.
- Unconsciously Self-destructive: Tom isn't exactly depressed, but he doesn't really value his life all that much. Food, water, rest, all of these are optional to him
- Terrible at Hand to Hand Combat:
Seriously, an 11 year old could overpower him in hand to hand combat, he has the physical strength of a ferret.

FLUFF

Likes:
+ TV Dramas: He's caught up on all the trendy ones and knows a lot about them. There's no reason why he likes them, he just does.
+ Caffeine: He's almost always on some sort of caffeine, whether it be pills or a nice cup of Joe, he'll be consuming it until his body falls from exhaustion.
+ Candy: He might be 28 on the outside, but on the inside he's just a child craving sugar. If anyone were to try and capture Tom, all they'd need to do is have a trail of various sweets leading to a cage.

Dislikes:
- Broccoli: Again, inner child. Always hated it, never gonna like it.
- Dolphins: They are the humans of the sea and therefore must be exterminated.
- Lawyers: Tom believes that lawyers sold their souls to the government to gain money and power by arguing with each other. He also thinks they're huge assholes and doesn't trust any of them.

Hobbies:
Talking to Ivan, becasue this plant is the man's moral compass.
Trying to make the deadliest poisons.
Gardening

Quote\s:
"The ultimate goal of being a doctor is not save the patient's life at all costs. It's don't get sued."
"I said I made it! That doesn't mean I know what it does!"
"Pssh, human kidney, pig kidney, what's the difference? All doing the same job, I'm sure he won't even notice."

 

[Bronco]

(All fantastic additions to the crew)

 

[Shannon Trevor]

Is the plan for us to start out as a crew already?

 

[Monday]

Camelia "Cam" Cygnus Rossi​

Age: 17

Gender: Female

Race: Her mom is human, but she's not so sure about her dad, whoever he is.

Role: Mechanic/ Interpreter

Character Alignment: True Neutral

Appearance:

Aside from a few outlying characteristics, Cam's appearance is that of a mixed-race human. She stands at about 5'3" with a compact, athletic build, a light bronze skin tone, and a round face with broad cheekbones, a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks, and a pair of wide, almost unnaturally bright blue-green eyes. She's also fairly busty. Her thick, wavy hair seems to be a purplish color naturally, although she has bleached the ends pink. Because of these features she's usually perceived as feminine and cute, which she certainly isn't above using to her advantage. Has two cartilage piercings in her right ear and a lip piercing. Usually she wears light makeup in the form of hot pink lipstick, black eyeliner, and a rather loud shade of lime green eye shadow. Her wardrobe could be generalized as bright, edgy, and moderately skimpy; her typical outfit consisting of a vermillion button-up crop top worn half open, cut-off shorts, combat boots, black leather gloves, and an oversized black spacer's jacket that was obviously made for a man.

Personality:
+Outgoing: Cam is gregarious, charming, and loves to entertain, which has come in handy in a number of situations. How do you think she picked up all those languages?
+Strong work-ethic: You wouldn't assume so just by looking at her, but she knows full well that nothing worth having comes without hard work. She certainly didn't get where she is today by slacking off and feeling sorry for herself when the going got tough.
+Adventurous: For as long as she could remember, she's been drawn to travel and exploration by a deep-seated restlessness. She's always wanted to go everywhere, see everything, and do everything; and now, she finally has the chance. Always eager to learn (as long as there are no textbooks involved) and experience, she's often quick to jump into new situations.
+Energetic: Cam could basically be described as a tightly-wound ball of nervous energy, flitting from one activity to the next and seemingly only still when she's unconscious. She throws herself into whatever she happens to be doing at the moment with a passion, whether it be preventing an engine from exploding, washing the dinner dishes, or getting angry because somebody touched her stuff.

-Insecure: When it comes right down to it, Cam doesn't feel very good about herself. It's hard to say exactly why, and she prefers not to dwell on it, but it does tend to catch her off guard occasionally in unexpected bursts of bitterness and vitriol. She mostly copes with it through outward displays of false bravado, and her penchant for entertaining owes itself in no small part to her desire for acceptance.
-Cowardly: In contrast to her carefree exterior, she is often fearful and prone to catastrophizing, resulting in a risk-aversion that costs her opportunities. She also rarely puts herself on the line for anyone else, putting her own self-preservation first. Irritability and recklessness are the coping mechanisms she uses to deny fear.
-Insincere: Keeps up a cheerful facade at all times despite her inner turmoil out of her desire to be accepted and a fear of vulnerability.
-Mistrustful: As a result of not having known many nice people, Cam rarely lets her guard down despite seeming warm and approachable on the outside. It takes a long time for her to let others in.


Skills:
+Mechanic: Although not a master of her craft, she is capable enough to be useful for basic maintenance and repairs due to spending several years as an apprentice.
+Linguistics: Fluent in three languages and can communicate to varying degrees in several more. Growing up in an interplanetary travel hub has it's perks.
+Entertainer: Happens to be an excellent dancer, and also has a pretty good singing voice. Good for a quick credit but not quite good enough to quit her day job.
+Street Smarts: Despite not finishing her formal education, Cam is clever in her own way and capable of thinking on her feet. She had to be, growing up on the wrong side of the space port, if you know what I mean. Adept at reading others, she has keen instincts as to whether a person is genuine, liable to screw her over, or easy to manipulate, and acts accordingly. She's also mastered the art of fast-talking (and talking really fast)- how do you think she got off that sh*thole of a planet in the first place? By stowing away? Well, that was plan B...

Weaknesses:
-Uneducated: As stated above, she never finished High School, and wasn't the greatest student when she actually showed up. She always learned better outside the classroom, anyway, and thinks she knows enough to get by. Always sucked at math.
-Combat: Not much good in a fight. Although she knows how to use a gun, she's had little practice and zero formal training. Same with hand to hand combat. She could hold her own in a round of fisticuffs with someone close to her size and weight, but unfortunately few people fit that description. As a result she prefers to either run or talk her way out of a confrontation. These are aspects of her skill set she hopes to improve.
-Inexperienced: Yes, she may have had a harsh upbringing, but that doesn't mean she's entirely prepared for all that she'll encounter in the vast expanse of space, especially the loneliness and monotony of a prolonged voyage.
-Possible ADHD: She's a bit hyperactive and loses focus at times, zoning out and missing relevant information or getting absorbed in a single activity at the expense of everything else. Has to force herself to keep to a schedule. She sometimes gets impulsive with money, as well.

Likes:
+Animals: Especially cute ones. Especially dogs. Especially cute dogs. Will sometimes try to adopt strays she finds.
+Music: Enjoys most genres, as long as they're not for old people, but is particularly fond of anything upbeat and electronic. Seldom seen without a pair of earbuds (or this universe's equivalent).
+Food: Loves all kinds of food, and loves to eat. She appreciates quality, but generally isn't picky, although spicy dishes are particularly appealing. Blessed with a fast metabolism, she can eat pretty much whatever she wants without gaining weight.
+Stories: Whether it be in the form of a digital novel, a TV show, a ballad picked up in a local bar, or a conversation with a stranger, she loves immersing herself in someone else's experience. Adventure stories are her favorites.
+Cigarettes and Alcohol: The fact that she's technically underage on most planets doesn't deter her.
+Bright Colors: A fan of bright clothes, bright makeup, shiny trinkets, etc.
+Maps and Star Charts: Has a bunch that she uses to mark where she's been and where she'd like to go.

Dislikes:
-Spiders and anything (or anyone) with tentacles.
-"Old people music".
-Caffeine. It makes her jittery.
-Unsolicited advice.
-Control freaks. (That includes law enforcement.)
-People touching her stuff. Seriously, don't even try it. She will know.
-People who remind her too much of her mother.
-Her full first name.

Personal Belongings and Equipment:
+Her toolkit
+A small switch blade for self-defense
+Her maps and a few small, cheap souvenirs of the places she's been
+A junky old dataslate with her books on it
+Music-playing apparatus
+Jacket that belonged to her father, with his name, Cygnus Jamison Zaashani, stitched inside the collar. No, she doesn't care about him and is not bothered by his absence. Stop asking!

 

[Horus733]

The Professor

(don't mind the skull, it isn't part of his character)
Age: Unknown

Species: Android of unknown origin

Gender: identifies as and looks male

Height: 196cm/6’5

Cybernetics:
-enhanced durability and strength due to his robotic body
-8 additional smaller arms equipped with many different tools
-enhanced “senses” due to several high speed cameras, sensors and some good processors
-heat vision
-short range communicator

Personality:
The professor can be generally perceived as cold and harsh, his deep and robotic voice furthers this effect.
He often makes harsh or sarcastic comments if he thinks the person deserves it at that moment.
He prefers to do his tasks alone since people tent to “just be in his way” and he really can’t stand people asking him what he is doing all the time.
But behind the metal face and cold facade hides a caring robotic mind, worrying about his crewmates, social outcasts and non-sentient creatures.

Skills:
-Cybernetics Expert: He is an expert for installing, maintaining and repairing cybernetics and other robotics.
-Medium Level Medical Skills: He can tend flesh wounds, burns, acid accidents, broken bones and similar wounds in varying degrees. If you have something serious, he will just be the advanced first aid.
-Excellent Technician: He is a great technician for vehicles, weapons and other gadgets.
-Medium Level Firearm Skills: He can use pistols and rifles with great precision in a controlled environment, but is not so useful in a combat situation.
-Low Level Melee Fighting Skills: He knows basic self defense but beware, one of his arms may stab your eye out.
-High Analytical Skills: Due to his advanced processors, he can analyze data, situations and technologies very fast.

Strengths:
-Lack of Fear: He doesn’t fear most things other people are afraid of, since he is a robot. He still fears death, since there is nothing afterwards.
-Intelligence: He was made for science so he is booksmart.
-Fast Learner: He learns many things rather fast, especially if there is a lot of data on it.
-Robot Body: He doesn’t need food, water, oxygen or other things living creatures need.
-Heat resistance: His body has great resistance against heat and fire.
-Coldness Resistance: His body can resist temperatures of down to -40°C for longer periods of time.

Weaknesses:
-Harsh: He is often harsh to others, perhaps one reason why no other spaceship wanted to hire him.
-Sociopath: He is not good at teamwork and friendly interactions.
-Low Agility: His body isn’t made for running, dodging, climbing and similar activities.
-Can’t Swim: The high density of his body doesn’t allow him to swim, he is however waterproof.
-Boredom: He gets bored rather easily when there is nothing to work on, since he can’t sleep and doesn’t find entertainment in the things most living creatures would do for entertainment.

Likes: technology, freedom, building gadgets, tinkering, staring into space, space dog, smaller apex predators

Dislikes: government control, fighting, racism/speciesism, being treated as non-sentient, being asked about his past

The Professor and The Doctor
Behaviour:
The Professor is the harsh, cold and generally annoyed side of this android and the only side most people will ever see. His comments sound even harsher due to his voice and his look makes his threats even scarier.
Potential Quotes:
“Don’t touch anything, it might kill you.”
“Call me that again and I will stab your eye out!”
“Piss off.”
The Doctor on the other hand is the softer and kinder side of him that only those closest to him will ever see. As the name suggests, he usually only shows it during medical procedures. He uses a softer, less robotic voice that, in combination with his changed behaviour, usually surprises but calms people. This side is patient and shows that he tries his best to understand emotions, no matter what he says. This is also the side that shows his hidden will to teach others and his urge to spread his knowledge. The few that experienced this side most likely have asked him to show it more often.
Potential Quotes:
“Don’t be startled, my hands are cold.”
“May I hold your arm for this?”
“This will hurt a bit.”
“Give me a moment, please.”

Backstory:
Expedition Log E-8-46-839:
Today we picked up an android from the subtropical planet Zelos 2. He calls himself “The Professor” and claims that he has been banished to this planet “some longer time ago” but he would not specify how long, for what reason or by whom.
He doesn’t talk much and his voice is somewhat unsettling, but I don’t really know what to think of him. He seems to hate violence but maybe he is just holding back.
To whoever reads this: Please take all these things and whatever he has to say into consideration before you decide to hire him.
-Captain J. Smith

This is the only data you can find on him.

Equipment:
-Personal Data Slade: Just a data slade he uses as a way to access new information.
-Parts: A wide collection of circuits, energy sources, mechanical pieces, servos, cables and other stuff.
-Energy Core: A red glowing circular energy core of unknown origin, roughly the size of a large fist.
-Energy Pistol: A smaller energy pistol for self defense. It has a stun setting.
-The Rapier: A self built energy rifle that has a beam and a rapid fire setting. It has a biometric scanner that prevents unauthorized access. It still has some issues like overheating too fast, but he is working on fixing that.

 

[Bronco]

(The beginnings no of this adventure will begin with a mysterious summons on our data slates or personnel terminals. Apparently someone will take notice in your character’s skills and want you for a job)

 

[Shannon Trevor]

Lovely.

 

[Horus733]

So we all are chilling on a spaceport or how do I have to imagine this?

 

[Mechking]

I guess we are all on Circum Four?

 

[Bronco]

(We’re all starting as residents of Circum Four. Wether your character has any space faring experience is up to you.)

 

[Bronco]

(I’ll post a starter sometime today hopefully, after I get my character in)

 

[Bronco]

Name: Mike Ryder


Age: 37


Gender: Male


Build: Slightly Built


Height: 6’


Weight: 185 lbs


Scars/Markings: Scar over and slightly through his right eye


Cybernetics: None


Bio:
At the age of 17, Mike was swept up in the wave of patriotism that followed the outbreak of the confederacy. He enlisted in the navy at a much younger age than allowed, though the recruiters didn’t really seem to care. He was swiftly inducted into one of many training academies, at first learning to be a fighter pilot.

He was good, but lacked the discipline that superiors looked for in their fighters. He wouldn’t follow orders, thinking that his own plans were better. This would usually end in one of two ways: he’d either complete a simulation with flying colors or he’d fail miserably. Either way, his instructors were not happy and he soon found himself held back from graduating.

From constantly butting heads with his superiors, Mike found that the Navy was rather closed minded in their pursuit of victory. Once he’d formed this opinion, he began to pick up on other overly-conservative aspects of the government and realised that perhaps he really didn’t want to fight their war. Either way, he was contracted into serving the Navy and soon found himself transferred from flight school and trained to be a mate aboard a naval ship.

He kept his head low and graduated, becoming a third mate on the Federal Corvette (FC) Vigilance as they deployed to the far sectors of the system. The saw regular action as a patrol and recon vessel, coming into minor scrapes with other confederate patrollers here and there. It seemed that Mike would be able to finish his initial five year contract with a service ribbon and relatively low stakes.

This changed though around the moons of Nyphum (a sector 9 planet at the very edge of the system). The FC Vigilance was conducting a farflung recon mission while under transponder silence. They were investigating rumors of a possible confederate servicing station when they found themselves facing down an entire production line. Three freshly build frigates sprung into action, unloading on the corvettes more valuable components, this included the bridge.

Battered and broken, the bridge layed demolished. The shielding of the ship had been drastically turned down, as the crew wished to weaken their signal incase the confederates were scanning the area. Only two mates were left alive in the compartment, one of which was Mike. He’d found himself lucky enough to be blown close enough towards an emergency breathing apparatus (EBA) before the integrity of the bridge ports were compromised and the space lost air. As crew were sucked out or starved of oxygen, Mike was able to slam their lightspeed throttle home and blind jump the corvette to safety. What followed was roughly a month of open space survival aboard the crippled craft before a recovery vessel came to their rescue.

After that event, Mike did everything in his power to be transferred planet side, partially getting his wish when he was transferred to a Navy medical satellite. He spent a year aboard that post before his contract was up and he began to take work as a contracted mate on civilian vessels. In that time, he developed a habit for drinking to cope with the stress of his final voyage on the Vigilance. This habit would be his downfall as he wound up on Circum Four after being dropped from a job due to intoxication.



Personality:
He’s slightly grumpy, not ever dipping into miserable but he definitely has that “worn out” feeling to him. He’s not a huge fan of surprises, liking to plan out the approach to a problem before he dives into solving it. With that said, he is a fairly skilled improvisor even when he hadn’t planned on making things up. This is a reflection of his quick whits, something he uses frequently to take jabs at folks that rub him the wrong way.

It should also be noted that he’s not very trusting. He’ll keep things civil, but he won’t actually evolve into being friendly until he’s spent a good time around an individual. He will give credit where credit is due though, rewarding a half-assed congratulations before sobering up the recipient with a backhanded compliment. He’s also just as quick to scold someone for doing something wrong. If he knows that a stranger is simply new at something, he’ll help them to correct their errors even if he’s not very nice to them during the process.

To some him up, Mike is a jaded individual that still holds good intentions. Though these feelings are stored very deep down, they still have the ability to guide his actions for the better. He will somehow miraculously put someone down while also building them up. For those who do manage to grow close enough to Mike, they’ll find a loyal friend who will never stop looking for ways to yank their chain. They’ll also have received as unwavering ally, that will more than likely yell in annoyance at having to clean up their mess, but will gladly do so all the same.

 

[Shannon Trevor]

Can't wait.

Should we have a Discord OOC?

 

[Mechking]

Discord for OOC stuff

Tritt dem Retro Space RP-Discord-Server bei!

Sieh dir die Retro Space RP-Community auf Discord an – häng mit 3 anderen Mitgliedern ab und freu dich über kostenlose Sprach- und Textchats.

discord.gg

 

[Bronco]

-- Sol System: Sector 6: Circum Four: 18:30 hours --

The corridors of Circum Four had dimmed at roughly 18:07 hours, a routine that reflected the day and night cycle of many of the planets within the “goldilocks zone” (Sector 4) of the Sol System. The gentle orange lights cast slight shadows of overhead piping and wiring onto the cold metal floors below. Their was the constant gentle hum of the station’s engines, accompanied by merry banter leaking out from hab spaces or taverns packed with spacers and crew. Cups tinked together, shanties and accompanying instruments echoed through the halls, and the atmosphere of the station had shifted from its usual bustling self to a more cozy instillation.

Of course not ALL business was halted. Within the mining vessels, held by their massive ceiling clamps in the top docks of the station, were the unfortunate skeleton crews who were assigned to nightwatch. Scattered through the maze of corridors were sanitation staff, emptying trash bins or mopping up the day’s filth. And within the bars and eateries were crowded back booths, hosting shady individuals in hushed meeting. They strategized, discussing their “discrete” cargos or deciding which roaming security officer could be trusted to look the other way.

These same gangs also spoke of another matter, one far more imposing than any other topics that were included in their day to day operations. The ever looming threat of the Federal Navy. Their presence had been confirmed a Circum Three not but three days ago by trusted contacts. These same contacts also spoke of how the fleet appeared to be preparing to leave, moving gear back on board and resupplying through various quartermasters and their stores. It would be only a matter of hours before they reached Circum Four once they were on the move, seconds if lightspeed was used.

Thankfully that possibility was ruled out, everyone knew that inner system lightspeed was not only outlawed, but was also a very dangerous practice as risk of colliding with other ships was high. So, it was agreed upon that Navy would most likely be pushing off early the next morning and would not arrive until roughly early evening. It was also agreed upon that the contraband of these gangs should be clear of the station by then. This meant a great number of bosses were scrambling to assemble crews. The more experienced the better was the general take on the issue, as veteran spacers and brilliant engineers were frantically fought over by the near panicking crime syndicates.

However, there was one man who had a different perspective. Seeking out fresh and new crewmembers, he compiled a list of potentially favorable peoples across the Circum Four. They were a unique bunch for sure, and he silently prayed for the captain that’d be responsible for wrangling them all. He also chuckled at how he’d imagine the man would react, before pressing the send key on his terminal with a devilish grin. The following notice was sent to all of those he felt were qualified to be apart of this new crew.





To: (Your character here)

Subject: Regarding A Job

---Good Evening---

It has come to my attention that you find yourself rather short of work. It is my solemn belief that no individual’s talents should be wasted, and that any others who would believe otherwise are simply utter fools. That being said, I reach out to you with a mutually beneficial proposal. On level 13, down corridor 5, you’ll find a small pub known as The Bumbling Boatswain. Should you accept to take up my offer, I invite you to join me there in one of the rear booths. We will further discuss your employment over refreshments and merriment.

--Best Wishes--

The Fox of Circum Four

 

[Bronco]

(We'll reply in the order of characters submitted)

 

[Shannon Trevor]

"You know, you're really starting to bring down the mood in here."

The thin smile didn't reach Rene Vassuer's eyes as she looked up from her beer to the barman. Considering their surroundings, a dirty dive bar on a shit heap like Circum Four with only a smattering of surly clients, the statement was quite damning. "Thanks for that," she replied, taking in the dark bar with a sigh. She held up the near empty bottle and waited as the barman fetched a new one.

"Is it really that bad?"

Is it really that bad? Rene wondered. As of five days ago, she had been a relatively successful bounty hunter. She had her own ship and a more than modest amount of credits in her account. Evidently, she was so successful someone took exception. The bomb didn't destroy her ship but it was damaged beyond salvage. It had cost an eye watering amount to recover her possessions from the vented wreck.

Rene had spent the days since pondering her next move. Her account had taken a significant hit and she had no means to get back to work. She had no desire to remain on the station but had not yet found the motivation to hop on one of the outgoing transports. Rumour had it the Navy was on the way but she doubted any of her old comrades were part of the task force.

"It's that bad."

The barman nodded and left her to enjoy her drink. She wasn't drowning her sorrows but entertainment on Circum Four was in short supply. A quiet bar where she could ponder and plan her next move was what she needed.

Rene felt her slate vibrate in her pocket. Retreiving it, she found a new message on the screen. She read it quickly and then read it again. She didn't know many people on the station and had only intended to remain there long enough to deposit her last bounty.

It could be a trap, she knew. Her bomber looking to finish the job he'd botched. She considered it, knowing her current prospects were limited. If it was bait, her weapons had survived the bomb and she had confidence in her abilities.

Rene drained her drink, checked her watch and left to seek out the Bumbling Boatswain.

 

[Mechking]

It was mostly silent onboard Circum Four, at this hour only little amounts of chatter could be heard inside the hallways. But it was only mostly silent. A single loud voice could be heard echoing through the levels and corridors. Singing old patriotic songs or declaring his victory over aliens, machines and the universe, a lone janitor scrubbed the different floors diligently. He only stops his work when he needed to sleep or when he played with his dog. And he cleaned all day long after he arrived about a week ago. The crew of a ship kicked him out when they found him asleep in one of their cargo crates. He snuck aboard and cleaned their entire ship, inside and outside, but they still had no idea how or when he actually entered the ship. Now he continues his work, announcing his name clearly to the station and the galaxy at large:

"Behold, the cleaning power of Emperor Dave himself! Truly, there was never once a greater being than I, and there never will come one to surpass me!"

"Emperor David", or as he is commonly referred to, Crazy Space-Janitor Dave, is active once more. And no one can stop him. Many have tried, all have failed. One tried to thank him for his work, asking him to stop. But he only replied with: "No need to thank the Emperor of Humanity itself!" and continued cleaning. Another tried threatening him with violence if he didn't stop singing. They found him the next day headfirst in a trash can. A few other crazies joined him in his "singing", but they couldn't keep up with Dave after a few hours. And now? Now Crazy Dave stopped singing because he picked the next song. Not on his dataslate, no, that thing didn't have any songs on it. But in his head. And after a few seconds, he started singing again.

After a few more minutes, or hours (depending on who was listening), Dave heard a loud "pling" from inside one of his pockets. "Space Dog, was that you?" he asked, turning to his companion. But the dog only looked at him curiously. "Oh right, you can't talk. I forgot you aren't one of the shapeshifters that I defeated back on Karak Two. Nasty beasts, I tell you! Huge and intelligent, always disguising themselves as cute pets. Good thing I came before they conquered the planet!"
Dave finally found the source of the noise and read the message on the dataslate. "The Fox of Circum Four, huh? Didn't know they had intelligent animals here! Oh, maybe he is one of the shapeshifters! I guess there is only one way to find out. Space Dog, come with me. We have some awesome ass-kicking to do!"


Ignoring all rules regarding pets, Crazy Dave entered the Bumbling Boatswain. He was still wearing his janitorial apron over his admiral uniform and carrying some of his cleaning gear with him inside. A slightly confused bouncer tried to stop him, but Crazy Dave held Space Dog like a small puppy and announced with a huge smile: "Behold, my glorious creation!" Now being even more confused, the bouncer let him inside. He only somewhat calmed down after he remembered Rule Number One.

Rule Number One: "Never mess with crazy people!"

 

[MToki]

Deep within a storage unit on one of the lower levels of Circum 4, Dr. Siyanski stood over an unconscious man, cut open and laying atop a stainless steel drink cart. His medical supplies lay neatly organized on some crates, his miniature EKG machine beeping away next to them, and an ice box right next to the body. Quietly humming along to some songs he's overheard, he carefully cut off the man's kidney, slowly placing it into the ice box upon removal. Now that the main event was finished, he quickly stitched whatever loose bits he still had and closed the man up and began cleaning up.

This wasn't part of a job or anything, he just really hated the guy. I mean, who the fuck doesn't hold the elevator for someone when they are clearly running toward it? Not only that, but this guy took off his shoes AND socks in a restaurant the other day. Disgusting. Tom, who was currently placing his equipment back into his bag, had already decided months before that he hated this man, no matter what the guy did, he would've found it to be despicable behavior. In truth, Gary, the man he hated so much, was just a regular guy, but Tom despised him nonetheless.

Nonchalantly, the doctor picked up his things and walked out. The security cameras in this place were so old and dysfunctional, it'd be a miracle if they could even turn on. Plus the cargo here was just some personal junk, there was no need to place high security on something so worthless. As he walked through the hallways back to his hab station, a message appeared on his holographic display.

A new job? He thought curiously. He hadn't been offered a job in quite some time due to his skeptical history, or rather lack of one. The only thing employers could find on him were records of his attendance at college and medical school, anything beyond that was taken completely off the grid, as a result he was seen as risky or dangerous. Tom happily changed course to the Bumbling Boatswain, ice box and medical supplies still in hand.

 

[Horus733]

It had been several weeks since The Professor was dropped off on Circum Four by Captain Smith. He wanted to thank the explorer with more than just a few polite words and some data on the planet, but he had nothing to give and the ship was well maintained. If they ever meet again he would thank the kind man properly.
He and his crew surely were surprised when they found a scary looking android sitting on a wooden bench next to what looked like a mix of a caravan and a spaceship.
Thankfully, they weren’t scared off and gave him a ride to the next spot of civilization they stopped at.
The first days on the criminal infested space station weren’t easy but with the advice and pocket money the captain gave him and his own skills, he soon found his way of dealing with the situation.

As every day, he sat in his “doctor’s office” for cybernetics, which consisted of his assortment of parts and two folding chairs he borrowed from a bartender, set up in some neutral corner of the space station.
A young man cautiously approached him, unsure of how to start the situation. The Professor looked up from the device he was working on and decided not to waste anyone's time.
“What is it?”, he asked, startling the man.
“Well...You see some guy rammed a knife into my arm, it really wasn’t my fault I swear, and now…”
“Listen”, The Professor cut him off: “I don’t care about your story, I just want three questions answered: what's the issue, can you pay and do you have parts.”
The man quickly explained the issue with his arm and that he could pay and The Professor got to work. Just the moment he was looking for the source of the problem, a big man approached.
“Hey Prof, I have a big problem…”
“Wait your turn.”, The Professor said to the man he knew from a few previous times, without looking up.
“But Prof…”
“Wait. Your. Turn.”, he repeated, silencing the hulk of a man.
“Why do they always have to be so self-centred?”, he thought while quickly fixed two faulty wires.
"I don't think I have to tell you that you need to get that hole fixed.", he said to his patient while he accepted the small payment.
He turned to the tall man who was growing impatient.
"And you got punched in the face again?"
If you dealt with him, you had to deal with comments like this.
The man sat down and The Professor started to examine his facial implants.
"I can fix the rest but you definitely need a new eye.", he summed up the situation.
"Please do what you can.", the man replied and the android started his work.
As his second customer of the evening left, he received a message on his dataslade.
"Finally!", he thought after reading it.
"First I thought it was just some idiot telling me that he needs me to fix some shit, but this sounds interesting."
He packed his stuff, returned the chairs to the bartender, thanked him and said goodbye, maybe forever. He then headed to the next elevator, took it to level 13, marched down corridor 5 and past the slightly confused bartender of The Bumbling Boatswain.
He didn't know what The Fox of Circum Four looked like, but the man surely knew the people he wanted to hire.
He couldn't be the only one, androids don't care about refreshments.

The slightly concerned bouncer decided to follow rule number 8, just like many others do, wether they know it as an actual rule or not.
Rule 8: Don't mess with scary looking androids.
-8.1: Especially if they have big guns.

 

[Bronco]

“What the hell am I hire’n ya for!” came a shout from behind the ornate bar of the establishment.

The apparent thrashing was directed not towards any of the patrons, but instead towards the large fellow who served as the Boatswain’s bouncer. In an uncharacteristic move, the muscular fellow actually recoiled at the shout. All he could offer was a shrug and then a weak gesture towards the two odd fellows that he had let through. This did nothing to stave off the coming storm.

“Idiota! I’m tryna run a business here numskull, a CLASSY business!” the man who continued to shout was both stout and plump, with the apron he wore just barely managing to extend below his gut. His face was of a slightly toned complexion, and his currently furled brow was a thick bushy black. As he continued to scold his doorman his mustache bounced atop his lip, resembling a jubilant caterpillar.

“Now you lett’n androids and-” the bartender took a moment to squint at the appearance of Emperor Dave (long may he reign) before continuing on. “-whateva that Schmuck is, without so much as batt’n a fuck’n eye! Ooooh I outaaaaa….” he shook his fist as the petrified giant. However, just as it seemed that the door guard was about to receive the sack, another far more polite voice called for an end to the thrashing.

“Leave the man be, Saul.” it said with a smoothness. It seemed to have come from around the corner and behind the bar, further into the establishment and among the back booths. The fuming barkeep, who apparently went by Saul, hobbled to the rear corner of his station and leaned out to peak around at the patron.

“EY! You stay out’a this, I serve ya drinks but this is my place! Capeesh!?”

“Caposh my dear fellow, Caposh. But you certainly can’t blame the chap, I did pick some rather ...unique ...characters.” the voice dismissed with a slight chuckle. “Speaking of whom, would you kindly send them around please?”

Saul glared into the rear of his bar before letting out a might huff. Reluctantly, and with much grumbling, he turned and hobbled back to the front of his station. He merely pointed in the direction of the voice, instructing the two early candidates to “stay back there.”