Boilerplate OOC [private|closed, invite only]

[Tiltjuice]

/send all the Cavicide

[Cerillium]

/send all the Cavicide

[The Nameless Wayfarer]

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Name: Kyram Marec ['The Slayer of Shuror’]

Gender: Male
Age: 30
Appearance: As he is a warrior (of sorts), Kyram's body shows certain signs of athleticism, and more so, fatigue. Standing at a height of about six feet and two inches, he is of a muscular, yet more lithe build and weighs one hundred and eighty-three pounds. His face, which holds a somewhat squared jaw and a jagged scar across the bridge of his nose, is lightly tanned but considerably more pale than the average Rigel native. While Kyram's eyes are an icy shade of blue, they are offset by short brown hair which has been glazed with a golden tint from the harsh rays of the Rigelian sun. He typically keeps clean shaven, but as of late he's been wearing a face-hugging cropped beard.
Profile Picture: A poorly drawn self-portrait

Known Skills:

• Close combat (7)
• Basic firearms (6)
• Tea brewing (6)
• Bartering & charisma (6)
• Linguistics & culture (5)
• Arts & crafts (5)

Inventory:

• Automatic carbine, with an oversized bayonet (modified; chambered in 5.56 x 45mm armor piercing rounds)
• Ancestral sword, with engraved runic script (single-edged)
• Spare clips of ammunition (5.56 x 45mm rounds)
• Backpack, with attached bedroll
• Traditional Rus'alor armor (modified; custom design)
• Weathered cloak, with hood (made by Rom)
• Necklace, with attached teeth, shells and runes
• Leather bound journal, with lock
• Quill pen, with inkwell
• Flask, with water
• Ration packs

Background:

• Apprenticed to a renowned Rus'alor swordsman
• Apprenticed to a Rus'alor raiding party
• Appointed to the position of warlord

Biography: Kyram, also known by his former alias Aeron, or the infamous title of Slayer of Shuror, was raised on the human colony world of Rigel-Three, far from mother Earth. Born not too far north from the Ticaret Oasis, Marec was brought up amidst the warlike nomadic tribes that called that region home, the Rus'alor. Being premature and sickly, his birth parents had no hope for him or his future, and event went as far as to name him Kyram (which translates to first death in the tongue of the Rus'alor) and then proceeded to trade him off to a neighboring clan for a bushel of grain. In said clan, he was raised in the typical family profession: war. As per tradition, he was taught how to craft and use a beskad, the traditional Rus'alor blade, at the age of seven. A rudimentary understanding of firearms and how to operate them followed suit years later during his adolescence.

Years came and went, and eventually the young man known as Kyram Marec had begun to make a name for himself as a proficient swordsman and a zealous raider of foreign lands. Many Rus'alor attended his wedding feast (he married young as most Rus'alor do), raising mugs in his name. However, his true recognition and infamy arose during the first raid he ever lead, which took place in a small township known as Shuror. The story goes that the twenty year-old Kyram personally slew twenty-four men that day; and after the battle, he ordered the few remaining fields salted and the homes brought down to their foundations. His people gave him the title of Slayer of Shuror, as a sign of respect and admiration. Yet, for many outsiders, it would be a name synonymous with brutality and hate.

Eventually, as he grew older, Kyram used his title and the respect of the populace as a rallying cry for the unity of the Rus'alor people. Where he gave speeches, people listened- when he rose a sword, so did they. He began to bind his own clan, Marec, with numerous smaller families in a single horde. Many other clans followed suit, though, there were several that refused to bend the knee to such a young visionary. Kyram conquered many of his surrounding opponents, and then established a shaky stalemate with those that possessed far superior forces. Kyram's kingdom, or the Rus'am, as his people would call it, stood for four years and developed into one of Rigel's few stable settlements. The warrior-king ruled with a just and fair hand for the first year, but he soon felt the corrupting touch of power, as all men eventually do.

Kyram's brutality towards others that wronged, criticized or defied him rose dramatically. At first, it was simple suppression of rumors and political rivals- it then progressed to public executions of innocent citizens as a ploy to incite fear in his enemies. At the end of the fourth year of his reign, a bloody coup took place in which his wife was slain and he was cast out from power. His oppressed people, including his own adopted brother, Tracyn, hogtied him and left him in the Deep Sands for death.

Kyram survived his travails in the Deep Sands, and following his return to civilization, took on a new persona as Aeron Damphair, a vagabond from the Ticaret Oasis. He performed mercenary work, as well as freelance relic hunting, and even found a home with the legendary Hiram Dupont's crew of rag-tag adventurers. After serving time with them, he retreated to solitude in the Ticaret Oasis, where he shacked up with a Rom barmaid until a certain series of random-as-fuck events plunged him into more misadventures...

The Damphair returns...

[Highfort]

I believe you should tone down your skills, humans really shouldn't be having any skills about a 7 (which is already pretty damn good).

[Esternial]

I believe you should tone down your skills, humans really shouldn't be having any skills about a 7 (which is already pretty damn good).

Tone it down for me because I have no idea what I'm doing.

[Cerillium]

I'll have my character bios up by Friday night.

[The Nameless Wayfarer]

I'll have my character bios up by Friday night.

I reckon I'm looking forward to it. Any word as to when this cocaine fueled fun-train will leave the station?

[Cerillium]

I'll have my character bios up by Friday night.

I reckon I'm looking forward to it. Any word as to when this cocaine fueled fun-train will leave the station?

Probably after the NS Zombie Apocalypse.

[Swith Witherward]

I reckon I'm looking forward to it. Any word as to when this cocaine fueled fun-train will leave the station?

Probably after the NS Zombie Apocalypse.

It's after the apocalypse. If you send me your notes, I can cobble it into a tab. Or, if you'd like, I can pull from the characters' old apps.

[Cerillium]

Probably after the NS Zombie Apocalypse.

It's after the apocalypse. If you send me your notes, I can cobble it into a tab. Or, if you'd like, I can pull from the characters' old apps.

I sent an email last Sunday. chekyerbox.

Heh. I saved an email draft last Sunday instead of sending. Oops. Sorry Butterfly.

Part 1 of email: I felt Agy's whimsy was lost due to the spoilers. Would he (hey Agy) disagree to this suggestion: use the bio intro as hard code above the spoilers. Would it mess with the integrity if we pluralized "profile"?
... A:/User/Profiles/ ... Profile[s] found


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Name: Maxwell (Max) Grey, Jr.

Gender: Male
Age: 35
Appearance: Max is athletic and broad shouldered, his body toned by years spent working on heavy equipment under his father's watchful, military eye. He lost muscle mass after heading out on his own to pursue his passions, managing to trim himself down to an even 160#, a better-suited weight for his five foot, ten inch frame. His skin tone is relatively pale thanks to his mother's Nordic roots. Max, like his twin sister, prefers a quasi-tanker look replete with heavy coat (seldom worn during the day), tan trousers, a light cotton shirt, and knee-high (laced) tanker boots. Also like his sister, he wears the trademark leather cap which designates members of his father's unit. His light brown brown hair is normally kept in a "high and tight" style although it becomes shaggy while on the road. His expression is typically neutral yet smiles come easily and it's not uncommon to see mischief dancing in his dark grey eyes.

Profile Picture: Max Grey

Known Skills:

• Software Expertise - 5
• Mechanical Aptitude (vehicle technology/diagnostics/repair) - 7
• Vehicle Operation (manual and automatic) - - 7
• Piloting - 2
• Weapon proficiency: SMG/shotgun - 4
• Weapon proficiency: multiple-barrel - 4
• Demolitions - 6
• Bench Jeweler - 6
• Tactics - 4

Inventory:

• H&K UMP SMG (chambered in 9×19mm Parabellum rounds)
• Too many boxes of aforementioned bullets, most stuffed under seats or in cabinets, although he carries a magazine or two in his large satchel (and usually forgets they're there)
• Pancor Jackhammer
• Several boxes of 12-gauge shells for aforementioned shotgun, most of them scattered throughout the Bastard
• Tools of the trade (kept in the Bastard)
• Survival gear (kept in the Bastard)
• Paper, pens, journals, junk and more junk (kept in the Bastard)
• Computers (and parts to repair said computers)
• The Bastard (a vehicle)
  It's important to note that Max is a pack rat. His hording tendencies are only kept at bay via his sister's scorn however, if given a space to call his own, he will fill it with as much "might be needed later" shit as humanly possible. Most of it is carefully cataloged and properly stored; even Max's ammo is organized, albeit at times difficult to reach. Everything must be neat and tidy. He will force Mia to construct compartments to put things if in none exist. As a result, roughly half the Bastard's weight can be attributed to tools, crap, more crap, and even more crap, and equipment.

Background:

• UNSECESM-R3 Peacekeeper (Motorpool mechanic, nine year service, honorable discharge)
• UNSECESM civilian contractor (2 year contract)

Biography: UNSECESM-R3 was once a glorious thing boasting glorious men accomplishing glorious feats. And then shit blew up and things got real, and the glorious men were left to sketch out their inglorious existence. It's said that UNSECESM-R3 Peacekeepers are among the most well-equipped and well-trained fighters on the planet. Yeah, well, someone has to keep 'em that way, and to keep 'em moving, and for that you need a well-skilled motor pool. And so it was that MSgt. Maxwell Grey Sr (motor pool mechanic extraordinaire) was stationed at a UNSEC base far out in the middle of Buttscratch Nowhere when he met Miss Emily Haines (UNSEC civilian IT geek) and got busy in the bushes behind the watershed...making twins. Whether or not this was a good decision remains to be seen, although it's reported that the couple frequented that shady patch of ground every wedding anniversary.

The twins were raised in a mixed environment. Emily, ever prim and proper, pushed her children towards intellectual pursuits. Max Sr, too old to give a fuck and possessing a no-nonsense military mentality, pushed his children towards engines and discipline before they learned to crawl. His philosophy was simple: you learn best by experiencing most.

The base eventually shut down and the Grey Family transferred to someplace a bit more hospitable, where both twins eventually enlisted. They served with honor until their discharge, and then struck out on their own after a paternal blessing and much maternal tears.

Max followed in his mother's footsteps. A "code jockey meets pyro" sort of guy, his passion is programming and his outlet is demolitions. Nothing grand scale. He simply enjoys a good boom now and then.

Max is part of a Vagabond team hired out by AA to secure an artifact in the Great Khan Desert as serves primarily as a driver. Bisexual in nature, and poly in mindset, he's dealing with growing feelings for the team's resident (seemingly celibate) priest-tinkerer, Temir, as well as a rampant crush on their guide, Esma.

Assessed Threat Level: (OP will decide this for flavor)

Welcome to the Demens Fork of Elohim OS v. 1.2. Please report any errors to your local administrator.
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Name: Mia Grey

Gender: Female
Age: 35
Appearance: The lithe and athletic twin to Maxwell Grey, Mia weighs in at a trim 120#, carrying it well on her five foot, five inch frame. Her skin tone is relatively pale thanks to her mother's Nordic roots. Mia prefers a quasi-tanker look replete with heavy coat (seldom worn during the day), tan trousers, a light cotton shirt, and knee-high (laced) tanker boots. She wears the trademark leather cap which designates members of her father's unit, as well as keeping goggles perched on top for Her light brown brown hair is frequently pinned back with cotter pins, when not ensconced in her cap. Mia possesses a (sometimes caustic) sense of humor and, like her brother, she's more prone to smiles than frowns during leisure moments, and has a friendly personality. However, there is a hawkish severity to her grey-eyed stare.

Profile Picture: Mia Grey

Known Skills:

• Hardware Expert/Design - 7
• IT - 2
• Mechanical aptitude (vehicle technology/diagnostics/repair/comms) - 6
• Machining - 5
• Weapon proficiency: SMG/shotgun - 5
• Weapon proficiency: multiple-barrel - 7
• Vehicle Operation (manual and automatic) - 2
• [REDACT] Technology - 6
• Pathology - 5

Inventory:

• H&K UMP SMG (chambered in 9×19mm Parabellum rounds)
• Beretta M9 (chambered in 9×19mm Parabellum rounds)
• Doorknob collection (don't ask)
  Nearly everything else is shared with Max, but Mia can't easily find it.

Background:

• UNSECESM-R3 Peacekeeper (Machinist, eight years service, wounded in battle, honorable discharge)
• UNSECESM Civilian Contractor (1 year)

Biography: UNSECESM-R3 was once a glorious thing boasting glorious men accomplishing glorious feats. And then shit blew up and things got real, and the glorious men were left to sketch out their inglorious existence. It's said that UNSECESM-R3 Peacekeepers are among the most well-equipped and well-trained fighters on the planet. Yeah, well, someone has to keep 'em that way, and to keep 'em moving, and for that you need a well-skilled motor pool. And so it was that MSgt. Maxwell Grey Sr (motor pool mechanic extraordinaire) was stationed at a UNSEC base far out in the middle of Buttscratch Nowhere when he met Miss Emily Haines (UNSEC civilian IT geek) and got busy in the bushes behind the watershed...making twins. Whether or not this was a good decision remains to be seen, although it's reported that the couple frequented that shady patch of ground every wedding anniversary.

The twins were raised in a mixed environment. Emily, ever prim and proper, pushed her children towards intellectual pursuits. Max Sr, too old to give a fuck and possessing a no-nonsense military mentality, pushed his children towards engines and discipline before they learned to crawl. His philosophy was simple: you learn best by experiencing most.

The base eventually shut down and the Grey Family transferred to someplace a bit more hospitable, where both twins eventually enlisted. She served with honor until injured during combat. Her recovery lasted a year. She was subsequently given an honorable discharge, and then joined her brother in his private ventures after a paternal blessing and much maternal tears.

Mia took after her father, a decision that later manifested in guilt. (Her mother suffers from Refsum disease, a rare lipid metabolism disorder causing degenerative nerve disease and ataxia. Limited in mobility due to extreme pain, she's unable to fully care for herself. Mia's personal quest is to obtain information in order to create a secondary neural network for her, a device that interfaces with her spinal cord to process signals and control involuntary movements, to give her mother back her life. Mia lacks a medical background, however, and so her energies are directed towards exploration and research. This has resulted in a gruesome hobby - body farming and dissection.) Her original passion was machinery and the hardware needed to make it run. Mia is also insufferably protective of her brother.

Mia is part of a Vagabond team hired out by AA to secure an artifact in the Great Khan Desert as serves primarily as a driver. She has little tolerance for children, a zest for life, and an obsession with Blacklight. Not prone towards wanting relationships, she's nonetheless drawn to Zed, a fellow (and mysterious) Vagabond. Their one-night stand (and his talent for "fucking like thunder") has softened her outlook some, but she's still loathe to consider him more than a companion. The world is cruel. Friends and lovers die. If you don't get close, you never get burned.


Assessed Threat Level: (OP will decide this for flavor)

Above image is how it looked prior to the twins stealing procuring it for a ludicrously low price.
Owned by the Grey Twins, the Glorious Bastard is a retrofitted beast. The outside looks like meat. The inside workshop is a technophile's wet dream although it's cramped beyond reason. It runs well, breaks down on occasion, is a bitch to drive if you're not familiar with her quirks. It can take a beating.

• Seats 4 comfortably, 6 in a pinch. Workshop has room for more but it won't be a comfortable (or safe) ride.
• Armored and rigged for harsh desert conditions but capable of navigating deep water. Snorkels are not rocket science.
• Off-road capable.
• Conveniently carries cold engineer hooch.
• Conveniently carries a bunch of other odd shit, such as a cooler in the glove box, and patio furniture.
• Inconveniently breaks down if left sitting for too long.
• We have AC, bitches. Don't ask about the coolant system. See bullet above regarding hooch.
• It's got some good comms. Okay, decent. Plus a couple handhelds to spare in a pinch. Some VOX crap in a bag somewhere.
• Excuse the blood on the grill. Roadkill (er....probably?) It's baked into the paint.
• Weapons system: quad GAU-19s in popup remote turret
  
  Cartridge: .50 BMG (12.7×99mm NATO)
  Barrels: 3
  Action: Electric
  Rate of fire: 1,000 or 2,000 rounds per minute
  Muzzle velocity: 2,910 fps (887 m/s)
  Effective firing range: 1,800 m
  Maximum firing range: 6,000 m
  Feed system: linkless or M9 linked belt

Group Photo Bonus:
L to R - Esma, Temir, Zed (hidden by carburetor scoop),
Mia, Max, Mathias

[Swith Witherward]

I forgive you... this time.



Alrighty then! Are you ready kids?

The IC first post should be up over the weekend.

[The Nameless Wayfarer]

I forgive you... this time.



Alrighty then! Are you ready kids?

The IC first post should be up over the weekend.

I'm looking forward to it! Are you still going with the idea you mentioned to me earlier? The entire car incident?

[Swith Witherward]

I forgive you... this time.



Alrighty then! Are you ready kids?

The IC first post should be up over the weekend.

I'm looking forward to it! Are you still going with the idea you mentioned to me earlier? The entire car incident?

Yep.

[Esternial]

Car incident?

CAR INCIDENT?!

Also Zed fucks like thunder.

[Swith Witherward]

Car incident?

CAR INCIDENT?!

Also Zed fucks like thunder.

The mystery will unravel... once I get stuff hammered out. We hadn't any power this afternoon, so I couldn't work on a thing.

[The Nameless Wayfarer]

How's it coming, Swith?

[Tiltjuice]

How's it coming, Swith?

Should be up by this evening, earliest.

[Swith Witherward]

Tomorrow evening. We'll have a lull after that as a few players have a heavy week to look forward to.

Nope. I lied. It's up: viewtopic.php?ns=1&f=31&t=360505

So... storycrafting RP. Contribute. As I explained earlier, the setting is fixed as far as the world goes, and some animals do actually have a description, but each person contributes via posts. Don't asspull and things will go well.

There's no rush to post. Take your time. Craft something nifty.

Wayfarer, your character isn't injured. I'm leaving it up to you to determine why he was on the road. He has no say in where he ended up, though! He'd have whatever gear he'd need to go into the desert, of course, and none of it was damaged.

Esty, I didn't want to put words in Zed's mouth, so I left him fairly vague, except for a bit of comedy with the map.



Really, these poor souls will need to figure out what to do now. Food and cramped shelter, they have.

[Esternial]

It's all good. I'm swamped with work lately, so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to post.

[Swith Witherward]

It's all good. I'm swamped with work lately, so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to post.

Totally understand how that goes! It's no problem, Esty. We'll silently move Zed along so he doesn't become lost, if that's alright with you?



Ugh. Too sleepy to finish my draft. I'll have it up sometime tomorrow. Esma's getting out to scout.

[Esternial]

It's all good. I'm swamped with work lately, so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to post.

Totally understand how that goes! It's no problem, Esty. We'll silently move Zed along so he doesn't become lost, if that's alright with you?



Ugh. Too sleepy to finish my draft. I'll have it up sometime tomorrow. Esma's getting out to scout.

Sounds good thank you

[Esternial]

Tried to write up a decent post, but frankly I feel like I'm not quite that good as you guys, even on a good day. Not quite prosaic enough for my tastes. Should probably read more books to develop my literary writing some more.

Which is ironic because my guiding person told me my lab report was too prosaic.

[Highfort]

Tried to write up a decent post, but frankly I feel like I'm not quite that good as you guys, even on a good day. Not quite prosaic enough for my tastes. Should probably read more books to develop my literary writing some more.

Which is ironic because my guiding person told me my lab report was too prosaic.

Prosaic means lacking in beauty or poetry, commonplace...

You trying to start something here, son?

[Esternial]

Tried to write up a decent post, but frankly I feel like I'm not quite that good as you guys, even on a good day. Not quite prosaic enough for my tastes. Should probably read more books to develop my literary writing some more.

Which is ironic because my guiding person told me my lab report was too prosaic.

Prosaic means lacking in beauty or poetry, commonplace...

You trying to start something here, son? :p

Oh wow I've been using that word wrong for so long.

[Cerillium]

Tried to write up a decent post, but frankly I feel like I'm not quite that good as you guys, even on a good day. Not quite prosaic enough for my tastes. Should probably read more books to develop my literary writing some more.

Which is ironic because my guiding person told me my lab report was too prosaic.

I thought your post embodied the perfect post for Boilerplate. I really don't foresee us writing entire chapters per post.

I know Swith's working on a post. Fact is, my ass is occupying the chair; We need a second computer. Okay a third computer. The corporate laptop's a clingy bitch. Can't handle life without her boyfriend. "You are not connected to [the server]. Would you like to connect now?" No. Five minutes pass. "You are not connected..." NO! Five more minutes pass. "[Server] not detected. Please enter security code." She'll pout and deny me pleasure until I give her what she demands.

Min is swamped with work. Tilt is swamped with RL. I think we can ghost their characters along.