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Icarus (Sci-fi/Time-travel|OOC|Open)

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Dyelli Beybi
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6682
Founded: Antiquity
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Dyelli Beybi » Sun Jan 17, 2021 10:48 am

Alright folks, I'm aiming to launch in 48 hours. So use that as a soft-target for getting your apps in.

Like it says in the OP, there's no issue with joining later if you don't.

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Sarderia
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1854
Founded: Jun 26, 2019
Ex-Nation

Postby Sarderia » Sun Jan 17, 2021 11:17 am

Character Description
    Name: Johannes Cornelius Huygens de Spielman
    Gender: Male
    Appearance:
    WIP

    Original Lifespan: 1630-1667 (died, age 37, at Amsterdam)
    Biological Age now: 26


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills: Skilled Maritime Navigator, marksman and swordsman. Also somewhat proficient in finance.
    Weaknesses: Quite short-tempered.





By Johannes Cornelius Huygens de Spielman, of the Verenigde Oost-Indische Compagnie; Captain of the Rotterdam Admiralty, and bewindhebber of the Company.


Written on the time when I am sore and dying; on a room at the top of a warehouse in Amsterdam, with a splinter of wood from the accursed vessel Royal Charles, as accursed as the Englishmen and English monarch which the ghoulish ship bore the name of; stuck in my right feet, rendering me immobile. .

It has been most interesting and curious, even for me, to watch the progress of my own career. I for one would simply explain it as a mixture of fate and fortune. The island of Java, far away on the East Indies, was the place of my birth. My father, Pieter de Spielman, was a bewindhebber (manager) of the Company, who married the daughter of a local Raden (Lord) of the Banten Sultanate - of all things, for petty romance. It was not a good decision; the native Lord became enraged, and ordered the expulsion of my mother from his court. We settled on the beautiful city of Batavia - aptly named after my Fatherland - a Dutch pearl on the Orient.

It was then on the eve of a summer day on the year 1630 I was born. Our old mansion was located in the Merchant's Quarter - althpugh I would have preferred the Dutch quarter, because the Company's merchants refuse to mingle with the Chinese and the Indians, and Englishmen to them were more despicable than rats. Because Pieter de Spielman's affair with the Raden's daughter had enraged the Lord, he was barred from trading again with the Bantenese - a shame, since my grandfather (the local Lord) controlled a vast estate of pepper (savory gold, as the Company's merchants would call it). Therefore most of his later life was spent elsewhere. To rebulit his fortunes my father instead joined the Company's expeditions to Amboina and Banda - the Spice Islands, most valuable pieces of sand and soil of this world. Several times he brought me as well to the Moluccas. I had the talent of a sailor and a merchant, so they said.

The days on Batavia were peaceful and serene, as far as I remember. The manner of which I am raised was of a Protestant Hollander; however, my mother kept the faith of her forefathers - that of Islam. Both Dutchmen and natives often came to our house, although I had difficulties socializing with both; the Dutch merchants looked down on me because of my Bantenese blood; the Bantenese themselves because of my Dutch father and my Christian religion. Ultimately, this put myself and my family at a disadvantage when the Mataram Sultanate stormed Batavia later. There was unrest on the Kota (walled city), and Pieter de Spielman did not want to risk if my grandfather's troops or spies came knocking down our door. So we moved to Malacca on the Malayan Peninsula, where my father had bought a small apartment, not quite the mansion we had in Batavia, but a comfortable shelter nonetheless.

I started working with the Company at the young age of eleven, becoming some sort of an apprentice (or, more accurately, treated as his lackey, no different from a lowly koeli) for the local Dutch kapitein of the merchants. I joined my first voyage (of which I am a cre-member, not a mere passenger) on my fourteenth birthday; a porcelain-transporting carrack from Malacca to Canton. Although it was a Dutch ship, most of the crewmembers were either Javanese or Malay, which is of no great issue (I am fluent in Malay, and understood meager Javanese). Some called myself a quick learner on maritime techniques; I charted a star map and often operated the Captain's sextant on the vessel. On eighteen years of age, finally, I set foot on my father's homeland; Rotterdam, on the Netherlands. My mother died of fever in Malacca, the same year. To my surprise, the De Spielman family is a particularly wealthy one (which I never got the impression of back in Malacca). It has a long tradition of serving in the Netherlands' Navy and the East India Company; I found that my grandfather and uncle (from my father's side) perished at the Battle of Goa ten years past. As a diligent scion of this house, I followed their footsteps... precarious as it might be, although I cannot say that I regretted that decision.

At twenty-two years old I was a navigator on my father's ship, the Bantam, named after my mother's homeland that he (and I) long to settle in again one day. The ship made regular runs between Rotterdam, Cape Town, and Malacca, transporting cloves, nutmeg, pepper, and other spices - racking up a large amount of profit in doing so. Peace was shattered that year, however. The Englishmen, as usual, proved themselves capable of committing despicable acts - this time seizing twenty-seven Dutch ships off the coast of Barbados. War erupted, then, when the fleet of Lieutenant-Admiral Maarten Tromp and English General Robert Blake clashed with each other off Dover.

My first sea battle (aside from fending off Pirates) was on a shallow near the city of Plymouth; as a navigator on the Company ship Vrede, captained by bewindhebber Pieter Salomonszoon, a partner of my father's. There were two Company ships; largest of the fleet, dwarving even the infamous Admiral de Ruyter's flagship Klein Neptune. It was essentially a plunder; the English fleet was full of merchantmen, and it did not take a great effort forcing them to surrender. Vrede returned to Rotterdam with a deck full of sugar and saffron. The war continued on, with Vrede hired for privateering against English ships at several engagements. However, the ship itself was destroyed at the disastrous Battle of Scheveningen - which I barely survived.

After, I returned to my earlier position at my father's ship, as a navigator. I made myself a fortune during the war, returning with pockets full of English spices and gold. All of this convinced old Pieter de Spielman to enlist himself as a privateer for the Rotterdam Admiralty. While we continued working as merchants for the VOC, the Admiralty also tasked us to raid Portuguese, French, and English ships. The result was quite bountiful. When my father died of old age, he passed to me, as sole heir, three ships (the Bantam, a galleon of 36 guns, and two more merchantman of 24 guns), a small mansion near the Rotterdam harbor, and the rest of his wealth (including the position of bewindhebber in the Company).

Now... how did I came into this situation? Perhaps, most of all, my own greed for even more wealth and influence that turned me into a bold and brash character, of which I am embarrassed. But that is not completely my fault - the other bewindhebbers of the Company looked down to this young upstart, only thirty years of age, of mixed Dutch and Indies blood. I had to endure this racism and mockery for the rest of my career... falling down to the path of greed and ambition to prove that I could be a proper Dutch captain, merchant, and aristocrat. I took letters of marquees - dozens of them, for privateering; involved myself in risky ventures, such as smuggling goods into Japan, and finally, enlisting myself for the second Anglo-Dutch war... that ended with me writing this entry (possibly my last) on my deathbed.

The Raid on the Medway was my last engagement (it has to be - even if I survived this, I would never enter military service again). I was Captain of Bantam, the same old galleon I had served under for most of my career, sailing as part of Admiral Michiel de Ruyter's grand fleet that was heading into the River Thames. We had sixty ships on the fleet; a quarter of it Company ships and privateers, including mine. The attack caught the English unaware. The Dutch fireships burned the English vessels which carried the chain that blockaded Thames... and all people across the river, up to London, were scrambling to escape out of fear that we've brought a French army to land. I took the Bantam to capture one of the final English ships guarding the river, the Royal Charles. We blasted her side several times... which resulted in the ship's capture (after her crew surrendered), but also a great injury for me. A splinter of wood flew from the Charles and struck both my legs; I had to be carried back into the Captain's room. The gaping wound bled and festered all the way from Chatham to Amsterdam... my nights were full of pain, my days full of woe. I can only hope that Heaven is worth a dozen sunk English ships.


(Cause of Death: Wound infection, necrosis, and blood loss).
Last edited by Sarderia on Sun Jan 17, 2021 11:18 am, edited 1 time in total.
Takkan Melayu Hilang Di Dunia

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Dyelli Beybi
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6682
Founded: Antiquity
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Dyelli Beybi » Sun Jan 17, 2021 2:51 pm

Sarderia wrote:
Character Description
    Name: Johannes Cornelius Huygens de Spielman
    Gender: Male
    Appearance:
    WIP

    Original Lifespan: 1630-1667 (died, age 37, at Amsterdam)
    Biological Age now: 26


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills: Skilled Maritime Navigator, marksman and swordsman. Also somewhat proficient in finance.
    Weaknesses: Quite short-tempered.



Someone knows their history... accepted!

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Alcona and Hubris
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 456
Founded: Antiquity
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Alcona and Hubris » Mon Jan 18, 2021 10:01 am

Character Description
    Name:William Arthur George Tudor Stewart M.D., (Lord William)
    Gender: Male
    Appearance: Two meters tall with reddish hair and blue eyes. A narrow framed body with a pronounced square face and chin
    Original Lifespan: 1842-1870
    Biological Age now: 28


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills: Surgeon, horse ridding, fencing, boating, shooting, writing.
    Weaknesses: Diplomacy, women of questionable virtue, knowing when to shut up, whiskey,


Background:
    Backstory:
    The Scotsman, September 30th, 1870, pg 6.
    Memorial Service Last of Lost in vanishing of Columbia
    Fourth Child of Duke of Ross to be Memorialized in St Giles
    On October 1st, a memorial service will be held for Dr. William Stewart, late of Her Majesties Army Medical Service. Dr. Stewart was a known as a surgeon of some skill in the city, and his loss will be felt by those who benefited from his skill. His apparent death leaves both one of the first families of Scotland in mourning, but also those who the young doctor helped throughout his short life.

    For those unaware, the good Doctor was the fourth child, and third son, of the Duke of Ross. He was the only child of the Duke's second wife Maria Marpana. The doctor was born and grew up on the family estates of Crichton Castle and Uquart House in Suffolk. The Doctor attended Harrow before deciding on returning to Edinburgh to study medicine. Many within the city became acquainted with young man during these years. Of course he was of some notoriety, being at one time rumored to be a member of the notorious Gilly Club of the University. As long time residents recall, the Gilly Club was rumored to have initiated many pranks upon authorities in the city, including the presence of a prized heftier, dressed as an operatic singer, being found on the royal apartments of Edinburgh castle. A feat that garnered much displeasure in Buckingham Palace and many questions of engineers around Scotland of how it was completed, being that cows are not known for navigating turn stairwells.

    Upon graduation, the Doctor tried his hand both at setting up practice in the city, and then in Galasheilds. Unfortunately, it appears that neither effort was financially successful. Though in Galasheilds he did work for the Deputy Sheriff assisting Doctor Henry Littlejohn with his work on the missing Brimhouse girls. There was some talk about the city of the young doctor taking on the tasks of police surgeon, which ended upon his personal fortunes rising.

    With the death of his beloved mother, the Duchess, he inherited a small trust which enabled him to travel abroad. During this period, he decided to travel to the American territory of Arizona, to meet with his brother, Major Alexander Stewart who started a cattle ranch in those parts. During this trip, the young man traveled through Toronto where he was introduced to Colonel Wolseley, Deputy Quartermaster-General of Canada by a mutual acquintance. The young man was convinced to assist the Colonel in his expedition to the rebellious Red River region. Avid readers of this paper will recall that the doctor was cited a few times for assisting in rapid reloading of the Algoma after American authorities demanded that no arms or provisions be transported through their canal. Additionally, he was cited for preventing several injuries and navigating the lakes and streams of upper Canada.

    For this reason, the Doctor Stewart was provided with the task of tracing delayed medical supplies by Colonel Wolsey as he crossed Lake of the Woods. Reports indicate that Doctor Stewart found that the supplies had been assigned to the ship 'North Star' but she was overdue in port, caused by American authorities demanding emergency repairs to her boilers in Sault Saint Marie.

    Doctor Stewart received reports of the ship having suffered engine difficulties and having hauled up in Rock Harbor. The doctor chartered a small brig called 'Labelle' to take him out to the American port to see that the North Star could be repaired and ensure that no supplies were seized by American authorities. As readers know, the Labelle did reach Rock Harbor, but upon not finding the North Star, decided to investigate rumors of the ship being detained in Copper Harbor. The Labelle did not reach that port, and American authorities have finally declared that the ship is lost with all hands, cause unknown.

    The memorial ceremony will be held at 11:00....

    The Scotsman, October 30th 1870
    Letter to the editor,
    It has come to my attention that several individuals are spreading gossip about my friend and former student William Stewart, late of this city. I find the rumor mongering to be in poor taste both for being malicious of his character and nature. It is also is disrespectful to a family that has lost its youngest son in a most tragic and unfortunate event.

    I will grant you that as a student, the youngest Stewart did have a tendency to be boisterous. However, though this somewhat reflected in his grades, his ability and knowledge as a surgeon were excellent. I found him to be one of the few students who understood my methods, and tried to apply them regularly. His largest defect in doing so being, at times, tact.

    For those who insinuate that his reason for leaving Edinburgh was due to his friendship with Miss Sabine Malloy, a singer of some renowned within the town, I scoff. I know both he, and his partners, found that they were often stuck between providing services to patients that could pay little, and town merchants who constantly wanting more. Even the son of a Duke has found more than one noble client in this city with a large overdue balance on his books and little in the way to make them pay. At times with only funds from part time police surgery work actually paying bills, the partnership he founded with his fellows came to an end. His partners decided to try for better business in England. Since William did not see that London would be any better the partnership was dissolved amicably.

    The reason he moved practice to the market town of Galasheilds is well known to those with knowledge of the place. There are a number of properties owned by the family being the major market town near their ancestral seat, and the wool mills have made it a quite prosperous. The rumors attending his friendship with a young lady of that town are quite beneath being dignified with any answer. However, I will report that the young woman is quite happly married to a butcher in Selkirk, and does not need her named dragged in the mud by such insinuations.

    Personally, I worked with Doctor Stewart during this time, both in the matter of the horrid murder of the Darby girls and the attempted theft of the Attenbury Emeralds. He demonstrated remarkable capabilities, as both a police surgeon and observer of human nature. He demonstrated utter professionalism in his work, and had a natural tendency to be polite even to those from the meanest of society.

    As for these reports of dalliances in Monaco, Paris, Berlin, and Rome, I think that too much scandal is being milled from mere flirtations and courting. I have no doubt that a young man of modest fortune and good breeding would catch the eye of young women of the continent. Especially one who's mother was called the beauty of Toledo before her own marriage. Perhaps in a different life he would have found happiness and contentment with one of these young beauties. Perhaps, with time, he would have returned to take up a post with Henry Littlejohn as a Deputy Medical Officer.

    But unfortunately, an apparent desire to adventure took hold and he decided to throw his lot in with his brother Lord Alexander. This of course led to him joining the Red River Expedition and ultimately his unfortunate fate.

    Finally, the rumor that he was killed by some native witch doctor who found William meddling with his daughter is preposterous. It both offends the memory of Lord William as a gentleman, but also the hard working crew of the Labelle who perished with him. Those who perpetuate this rumor deserve full punishment allowed by law, and I hope that libel charges are drawn against them on behalf of all of the victim's reputations.

    Sincerely,

    Dr. Joseph Bell, Edinburgh


    Cause of death: Drowning
Last edited by Alcona and Hubris on Mon Jan 18, 2021 1:32 pm, edited 2 times in total.
If you haven't seen a sky furnace...
You're young...
Member: Federated Klatchian Coast
Observer Status in LDO

User avatar
Dyelli Beybi
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6682
Founded: Antiquity
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Dyelli Beybi » Mon Jan 18, 2021 12:54 pm

Alcona and Hubris wrote:
Character Description
    Name:William Arthur George Tudor Stewart M.D., (Lord William)
    Gender: Male
    Appearance: Two meters tall with reddish hair and blue eyes. A narrow framed body with a pronounced square face and chin
    Original Lifespan: 1842-1870
    Biological Age now: 28


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills: Surgeon, horse ridding, fencing, boating, shooting, writing.
    Weaknesses: Diplomacy, women of questionable virtue, knowing when to shut up, whiskey,


Background:
    Backstory:
    The Scotsman, September 30th, 1870, pg 6.
    Memorial Service Last of Lost in vanishing of Columbia
    Fourth Child of Duke of Ross to be Memorialized in St Giles
    On October 1st, a memorial service will be held for Dr. William Stewart, late of Her Majesties Army Medical Service. Dr. Stewart was a known as a surgeon of some skill in the city, and his loss will be felt by those who benefited from his skill. His apparent death leaves both one of the first families of Scotland in mourning, but also those who the young doctor helped throughout his short life.

    For those unaware, the good Doctor was the fourth child, and third son, of the Duke of Ross. He was the only child of the Duke's second wife Maria Marpana. The doctor was born and grew up on the family estates of Crichton Castle and Uquart House in Suffolk. The Doctor attended Harrow before deciding on returning to Edinburgh to study medicine. Many within the city became acquainted with young man during these years. Of course he was of some notoriety, being at one time rumored to be a member of the notorious Gilly Club of the University. As long time residents recall, the Gilly Club was rumored to have initiated many pranks upon authorities in the city, including the presence of a prized heftier, dressed as an operatic singer, being found on the royal apartments of Edinburgh castle. A feat that garnered much displeasure in Buckingham Palace and many questions of engineers around Scotland of how it was completed, being that cows are not known for navigating turn stairwells.

    Upon graduation, the Doctor tried his hand both at setting up practice in the city, and then in Galasheilds. Unfortunately, it appears that neither effort was financially successful. With the death of his beloved mother, the Duchess, he inherited a small trust which enabled him to travel abroad. During this period, he decided to travel to the American territory of Arizona, to meet with his brother, Major Alexander Stewart who started a cattle ranch in those parts. During this trip, the young man traveled through Toronto where he was introduced to Colonel Wolseley, Deputy Quartermaster-General of Canada by a mutual acquintance. The young man was convinced to assist the Colonel in his expedition to the rebellious Red River region. Avid readers of this paper will recall that the doctor was cited a few times for assisting in rapid reloading of the Algoma after American authorities demanded that no arms or provisions be transported through their canal. Additionally, he was cited for preventing several injuries and navigating the lakes and streams of upper Canada.

    For this reason, the Doctor Stewart was provided with the task of tracing delayed medical supplies by Colonel Wolsey as he crossed Lake of the Woods. Reports indicate that Doctor Stewart found that the supplies had been assigned to the ship 'North Star' but she was overdue in port, caused by American authorities demanding emergency repairs to her boilers in Sault Saint Marie.

    Doctor Stewart received reports of the ship having suffered engine difficulties and having hauled up in Rock Harbor. The doctor chartered a small brig called 'Labelle' to take him out to the American port to see that the North Star could be repaired and ensure that no supplies were seized by American authorities. As readers know, the Labelle did reach Rock Harbor, but upon not finding the North Star, decided to investigate rumors of the ship being detained in Copper Harbor. The Labelle did not reach that port, and American authorities have finally declared that the ship is lost with all hands, cause unknown.

    The memorial ceremony will be held at 11:00....

    The Scotsman, October 30th 1870
    Letter to the editor,
    It has come to my attention that several individuals are spreading gossip about my friend William Stewart, late of this city. I find the rumor mongering to be in poor taste both for being malicious of his character and nature. It is also is disrespectful to a family that has lost its youngest son in a most tragic and unfortunate event.

    For those who insinuate that his reason for leaving Edinburgh was due to his friendship with Miss Sabine Malloy, a singer of some renowned within the town, I scoff. I know both he, and his partners, found that they were often stuck between providing services to patients that could pay little, and town merchants who constantly wanting more. Even the son of a Duke has found more than one noble client in this city with a large overdue balance on his books and little in the way to make them pay. It was for this reason that his partners decided to try for better business in England. Since William did not see that London would be any better the partnership was dissolved amicably.

    The reason he moved practice to the market town of Galasheilds is well known to those with knowledge of the place. There are a number of properties owned by the Duchy and the wool mills have made it a quite prosperous market town. The rumors attending his friendship with a young lady of that town are quite beneath being dignified with any answer. However, I will report that the young woman is quite happly married to a butcher in Selkirk, and does not need her named dragged in the mud by such insinuations.

    As for these reports of dalliances in Monaco, Paris, Berlin, and Rome, I think that too much scandal is being provided to mere flirtations and courting. I have no doubt that a young man of modest fortune and good breeding would catch the eye of young women of the continent. Especially one who's mother was called the beauty of Toledo before her own marriage. Perhaps in a different life he would have found happiness and contentment with one of these young beauties. But unfortunately, an apparent desire to adventure took hold and he decided to throw his lot in with his brother Lord Alexander. This of course led to him joining the Red River Expedition and ultimately is unfortunate fate.

    Finally, the rumor that he was killed by some native witch doctor who found William meddling with his daughter is preposterous. It both offends the memory of Lord William as a gentleman, but also the hard working crew of the Labelle who perished with him. Those who perpetuate this rumor deserve full punishment allowed by law, and I hope that libel charges are drawn against them on behalf of all of the victim's reputations.

    Sincerely,

    Sir, John Torville, Edinburgh


    Cause of death: Drowning


Accepted!

More Victorian apps are keenly encouraged.

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Alcona and Hubris
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 456
Founded: Antiquity
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Alcona and Hubris » Mon Jan 18, 2021 1:24 pm

Note,
I realized what I had basically done unintentionally, but not until after I posted
so D.B. I made a few tweaks to the character...
If you haven't seen a sky furnace...
You're young...
Member: Federated Klatchian Coast
Observer Status in LDO

User avatar
Grenartia
Post Czar
 
Posts: 44623
Founded: Feb 14, 2010
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Grenartia » Mon Jan 18, 2021 1:42 pm

Just posting here to say that I'll be submitting an app, but I haven't started on it yet.
Lib-left. Antifascist, antitankie, anti-capitalist, anti-imperialist (including the imperialism of non-western countries). Christian (Unitarian Universalist). Background in physics.
Mostly a girl. She or they pronouns, please. Unrepentant transbian.
Reject tradition, embrace modernity.
People who call themselves based NEVER are.
The truth about kids transitioning.

User avatar
Mercatus
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1232
Founded: Mar 27, 2019
Ex-Nation

Postby Mercatus » Mon Jan 18, 2021 2:55 pm

Working on an app rn, expect it tonight or tomorrow.
About Me: Far-Right high schooler from Texas disillusioned with the progressive path being taken by society and propagated by young people.
Political Ideology: Right Wing Populism
Religion: Evangelical Baptist Christian

Pro: Gun Rights, Nuclear Family, Protectionist Economics, Capitalism, Israel, Border Wall, Fossil Fuels, Nuclear Energy, Traditional Social Values.
Anti: Communism, Socialism, BLM, LGBTQ Rights, Environmentalism, Affirmative Action, Globalism, Corporatism, Universalism, New Age Spirituality.

User avatar
Kylantha
Minister
 
Posts: 2327
Founded: Jan 22, 2015
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Kylantha » Wed Jan 20, 2021 9:14 am

Never mind.
Last edited by Kylantha on Fri Jan 22, 2021 12:15 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Dyelli Beybi
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6682
Founded: Antiquity
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Dyelli Beybi » Wed Jan 20, 2021 10:04 am

Kylantha wrote:O-O

I'm not done yet, but here!

Character Description
    Name: Strange-Man
    Gender: Male
    Appearance: A somewhat short man with a lean physique. His dark brown hair is messy and trails down past his shoulders. He has a short nose, dark eyes, and an ever-present satisfied smile that most people find strange.
    Original Lifespan: The Palaeolithic period.
    Biological Age now: Around 26.


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills: He's very good at foraging and tracking. Could probably do better than most people in survival situations. Good at making makeshift weapons out of simple objects and starting fires with stones.
    Weaknesses: Anything concerning history, science, technology, philosophy, and many other things.


Background:
    Backstory: Strange-Man was part of a group of Cro-Magnons who moved around often. He was known for being very inquisitive and thoughtful. He liked to wander off on his own and stare at various objects for long periods of time. His fellow humans enjoyed his company primarily because he was strange and provided a great amount of entertainment. They also enjoyed his company because he was skilled when it came to finding sources of food. It is very possible that he contributed greatly to the extinction of a number of prehistoric megafauna.
    Cause of death: He attempted to confront a sabre-toothed cat (most likely a Homotherium) and failed to succeed.


lol, look forward to seeing him finished.

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Dyelli Beybi
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6682
Founded: Antiquity
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Dyelli Beybi » Wed Jan 20, 2021 2:07 pm

We have lift off! The link is below, and also on the first post:

viewtopic.php?f=31&t=497328

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Sudbrazil
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 442
Founded: Jan 14, 2018
Ex-Nation

Postby Sudbrazil » Wed Jan 20, 2021 7:37 pm

Character Description
    Name: Lieutenant Otoya Miyamoto
    Gender: Male
    Appearance:
    Image

    Original Lifespan: 1919 to 1944
    Biological Age now: 25


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills: The hills of Manchuria are filled with hardships. Otoya has overcome them with good survival skills, small unit tactics, familiarity with one's weapons and their capabilities, marksmanship, and persuasion through barked orders. Swordsmanship doesn't really fit, but it looks cool.
    Weaknesses: Arrogance and stubbornness are sins cultivated by the IJA. Together with pride and unwaveringly direct approaches, they have given her soldiers great motivation but poor discreteness and lifespans.


Background:
    Backstory:
    As another pillbox fell, Lieutenant Miyamoto Otoya urged his men deeper into the fortress city of Hengyang, whose burning ruins lit the night. Even as Emperor’s armies cut through the Middle Kingdom like a scythe through grass, many stones in the fields deflected its blows – despite lacking ammunition, despite the perpetual shelling and bombing, despite the overwhelming number of men that battered the walls like the waves of the sea, the defenders had more than enough determination to resist, and that Otoya could respect. But despite this feeling, a silent ferocity grew in his heart as another of his men fell to the Chinese bullets.

    This time one of his machine gunners went down. Over the last week of fighting, his platoon had been decimated into a section, and the section reduced to a squad. Abandoning his carbine, the officer dashed into the open and hauled the man back to cover.

    “Duty is heavier than a mountain...” he recalled as shots popped around him. His men were disposable but he still felt responsible for them, and every rifleman was hours of labour and weeks of training lost. Otoya felt bad for thinking in such utilitarian terms as the squad medic applied a bandage. That man had been with him for six years of bloody fighting, and he did not want to see him join the others piled under the bunkers, cliffs and trenches of the Chinese fortifications. Slowed down by the wounded, the unit lagged behind the main push into the city, perfectly timed to bear the brunt of the Chinese flanking action.

    His squad was reduced to a fireteam, and Miyamoto emptied his carbine in defence of the rearguard. The push had to continue, no matter the cost. The entire Operation depended on it. He emptied his revolver into a man, realized his ammunition pocket was empty, then smacked the next bastard he came across with the grip.

    As he drew his sword, he thought of his family in Hiroshima, his stern father, his kind mother, his siblings and the watchmaker’s shop he was to inherit. He thought of the woods and beaches and the spirit of a nation he would never see again with the pent up bitterness of a warrior dying at the doorstep of victory.

    “... Death is lighter than a feather.”

    The enemy commander was a honourable man. It would be no shame to perish that day.

    Cause of death: Multiple 8mm Mauser rifle wounds.

User avatar
Mercatus
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1232
Founded: Mar 27, 2019
Ex-Nation

Postby Mercatus » Wed Jan 20, 2021 8:04 pm

PLEASE NOTE: The date has been approved by the OP

Character Description
    Name: Marcus Lennox (or just "Mark")
    Gender: Male
    Appearance:
    Marcus has medium-length flowing red hair, fair skin, and green eyes. He stands tall at around 6'4", has an athletic frame, and weighs in at around 184 pounds. He may let facial hair grow out from time to time depending on if he wants to or not, but coming out of the pod he is clean-shaven except for his normal hair.

    Original Lifespan: May 7th 2099 - August 20th 2128
    Biological Age now: 29 (Same age as he was upon death)


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills:

    Ace Pilot: Marcus was a fighter pilot for the United States Space Corps and has proven to perhaps be the most adept pilot in service. Most of his foes found it near impossible to land a hit on him, as he was so swift and precise in his movements that he could weave his craft in between streams of enemy fire. His superb aiming skills also accounted for his rather high kill count of 33 craft and many assists with other pilots, although his count isn’t the highest recorded, as aces who have served for longer than him have racked up higher numbers. His tangles with enemy aces are also a testament to his raw skill, as he has always been the one to emerge victorious from these intense dogfights. His flying style can be described as highly aggressive and precise, preferring to swiftly close in while letting out a calculated and powerful barrage of weapons fire. Marcus is qualified to fly most types of spacecraft in service during his heyday, including large capital ships should the current pilots of such vessels become incapacitated. His training included learning to fly aircraft before he was taught how to fly a spaceship, so he can also perform this task should it be required.

    Mathematics: The academic section of his training regimen included extensive teaching and mastery of various mathematical fields, ranging from basic algebra to calculus and trigonometry. As such, he is very proficient in arithmetic of all kinds, as knowledge of such fields was employed when making calculations while flying. This skill also has some application in engineering, but beyond equipment maintenance Marcus can’t really apply this knowledge to engineering fields.

    Leadership: In the context of small groups and in-the-moment decision making, Marcus is an excellent leader. His command of a fighter squadron has taught him much in the psychology of how a team works, and he has a greatly positive effect on the morale of his troops. His military background enables him to decide swiftly when presented with multiple options, and should his decisions have averse consequences he is more than willing to take the blame.

    Small Arms Competency: During his time in the service, Marcus took a 3-month training course on tactical use of small arms, which was led by members of the special operations community. While not the best operator, he could handle himself should the carrier his fighter was docked at be boarded. Note that the course did not include a long range section, instead focusing on close quarters battle, so sniper work is best left to someone specially trained in that art.

    Weaknesses:

    Survivor’s Guilt: Marcus bears the extremely heavy burden of having technically not been killed as the rest of his comrades were during the Ragon invasion. First, he found out around a week before he was killed that his wife and 4 year old son were confirmed dead, giving him a grief he almost could not bear. Alongside this, his witnessing of the deaths of his squadron and being around to remember it have compounded the grief he experienced after his family was killed. He feels that it was his failure that caused their deaths, that he could have done something that would have prevented it. Marcus believes that it should be himself and not them that were killed, and the memories of his comrades, wife, and son torment him, causing him extreme stress and an unhealthy and also perhaps dangerous obsession with perhaps finding a way to bring them back with the newfound time travel capabilities of the Icarus. As well as this, such traumatic memories can summon flashbacks, especially during battle, possibly putting himself and others at risk, and he is barely able to sleep even a few hours, which overall degrades his health.

    Fragile Ego: Marcus feels a need to outcompete everyone, no matter what the task may be. The high expectations of his superiors likely contributed to him being somewhat overconfident in his abilities, as he always outperformed his squadron and other wing commanders in just about anything related to flying. Marcus has an excessive fear of failure, especially after blaming himself for the deaths of his comrades, and his overall capability to accept defeat of any kind is abysmally low. His personal rules and the military doctrine he grew up with have made him come to expect only success and excellence in his performance, an attitude that will likely need to be broken so he can function normally as a subordinate member of a team.



Background:
    Backstory: Almost everything about the life of Marcus Lennox was tied to the military in some shape or form. From the very age he could attend school, he went to Military Academies instead of normal public or private school. Alongside academics, he learned to follow orders, how to be a leader, how to be organized, and so on. His entire family line for the past 400 years had served and fought in wars, and he would be no exception. Growing up, Marcus showed promise to his superiors, as he had proven himself a capable leader from the age of 14, and by then was already learning to fly jet aircraft. Of course, the few friends he had outside of military school were weirded out a bit, noting that he always seemed a little too serious, and everything about his demeanor was governed by military doctrine. He never wore a hat inside buildings, he wore his uniform most of the time, and didn't really grasp social cues from those who had a civilian upbringing. As he grew older, his social edges rounded out a bit.

    When he graduated what would be high school for him, he immediately shipped off to the United States Space Force Academy (USSFA), where he would begin his path to becoming a true soldier. The man seemed to radiate patriotism, and his leadership qualities combined with that were a huge morale boost for his fellow trainees. However, it was also here that his competitive side really showed, and he frequently used cutthroat methods and his sheer competitive will to gain even just a small victory. For this reason, he was also a divisive figure during his training days.

    When he completed basic training, he went on to join the United States Space Fighter Corps (USSFC), as his passion for flying and desire to see combat against the Russians burned within him at the time. He was someone that most instructors used as an example, as he excelled in most exercises. His simulator scores were the highest among his class, and when competitive simulator days were scheduled, other trainees found that he was practically untouchable. He weaved so elaborately and liquidly through the computerized cannon fire, and such speed and concentration baffled them. After leaving training for good, he was shipped off to the USS Lincoln, a carrier well known in the public eye for its excellent wartime track record and crew of skilled pilots. Hearing of Marcus' academy exploits excited the COs and wing commanders aboard the Lincoln, and many fought with vicious words over who's wing Marcus would be assigned to.

    At the time of shipping out, the Lincoln was stationed in Saturn orbit, spearheading a campaign against a small cell of the Chinese space fleet that had turned to piracy for control over the resource-rich rings. As of then, the fighting was pushing both sides back and forth, but little ground was gained by either side. Marcus hardly had to wait a few days before his first combat mission, as a large group of Chinese fighter craft were on an intercept course with the carrier. The craft Marcus had been assigned to fly was the Lockheed Martin F-220 Styx, a heavy fighter with powerful weapon systems, tough armor, and excellent maneuverability and speed for its class. At the time, these had only been in service for a few months, but their performance had already begun to show promise. The first time he suited up in the near-70 pound flight suit/battle armor, Marcus shook somewhat from the anticipation of his first real battle. Sure, his scores in the simulator were excellent, but this was real. He could die out here today, as many unfortunate enlistees did on their first mission.

    However, that was not at all the case. That day, Marcus took home 3 birds, and his vessel suffered only a few hits. Later, the number of hits the enemy scored on him would be reduced to just grazes. Of course, he always had the occasional bad day where a stream of rounds perforated his wings or tail fins. He rapidly rose the ranks aboard the Lincoln, and by the time of his death he held the rank of Captain and commanded his own fighter squadron. It was about mid way through his career when he met and married a female logistics officer named Martha, and they had one child, a boy, and named him Jacob. Martha was granted indefinite maternity leave, as with both parents being active duty military Jacob would have no one to raise him. Marcus made his best efforts to come visit them in between deployments. His kill count continued to rise after every battle, but before he could breach 200 victories, a mark which most space aces before him had reached, the Ragon came waltzing their way through the wormhole.

    At the time, Lincoln was already en route to Mars when the alert came that unidentified vessels had emerged from a space-time anomaly. Answering the call, the captain of the vessel expedited the journey with no concern for fuel. Within a day, most of Earth's space fleet had gathered to engage the mysterious invaders. Marcus was much more nervous than he had ever been due to the unknown enemy he and others now faced. His squadron was ordered to fly a short reconnaissance flyby to see what data could be gathered on their capabilities. In the flyby, the group made sure to stay a reasonably safe distance from a hypothesized range of which the Ragon weapons would be most accurate. They took some fire from defensive turrets, with none of the shots hitting, but confirmed that the enemy indeed possessed directed energy weapons. Flying back to group up with the fleet, Marcus flew escort in case such was needed. After the fleet drove the alien invaders back, Marcus and Co. drank wildly in celebration at humankind’s first (and only) victory against a highly advanced invader. However, a week later, when nearly 100 of the alien vessels made their way to the Solar System, Marcus and his squad were back to business.

    During the course of the short battle, the Lincoln was destroyed and the remnants showered over the Martian surface. Half of the fighters under Marcus' command were destroyed, and he soon realized that staying would mean the pointless deaths of him and his remaining crew. They made the decision, along with a few other squadrons, to retreat to the Martian surface and regroup. Shortly after landing, the battle in Martian orbit had ended, and a small Ragon garrison was left to patrol the Martian surface. It was also then that Marcus found out his beloved wife and son had both been killed in the battle over Mars, as they were both living in a suite they owned on board a space station in Mars orbit, which had been confirmed destroyed. Marcus was devastated after this, and he vowed revenge against the Ragon for this unforgivable transgression. Pulling up a record of docked vessels on Mars, Marcus and Co. found the old colony ship Aquarius in a shipyard that had seen little action due to its civilian purposes. The Aquarius was first constructed in 2072 and made multiple journeys across the Solar System over the decades, bringing colonists to and from different planets and moons. It was a carrier of hopes and dreams, and what remained of Earth's space forces had hope of reaching their ancestral homeland to help in a resistance war effort against the alien invaders. The huge vessel was much larger than Lincoln, but due to its dated components and engines it was also much slower. A full restoration of the vessel's functions was expedited over 4 days, and the fighter craft were loaded into the hangar bay. The idea was to escape Martian orbit and continue home using stealth, avoiding combat as much as possible.

    Things were seemingly going smoothly when the Aquarius escaped the Martian atmosphere, but shortly afterward a Ragon patrol spotted them. The focus was escaping as fast as possible, and the efforts of the crew paid off. The vessel managed to avoid most incoming fire and continue on, with the Ragon vessels giving up after a short while, knowing the likely doom that awaited the Aquarius in Earth orbit. After 12 days of travel, the ship finally arrived in high orbit between the Moon and Earth. The explosions and sights of war could be seen easily even from this distance, and radar showed that the Ragon tightly controlled Earth's low orbit region. Pressing forward, the pilots intended to speed past the warships and land somewhere remote, after which they would fly out and try to meet up with resistance fighters. As the Aquarius entered low orbit, all available fighter pilots were scrambled to protect it on reentry, with Marcus spearheading the effort. Immediately, the vessel was swarmed by all manner of Ragon spacecraft, and the 30 or so Styx fighters were no match for such a large horde. The aliens cut through the human fleet like warm butter, and most of the pilots had been killed within the first 6 minutes and the Aquarius had been badly damaged. In all of 20 minutes, the colony vessel met its end when it tried to reenter the atmosphere, but damage to the heat shields caused it to explode and rain debris all over the Atlantic Ocean. As for Marcus, his final stand was his most impressive fight. Fueled by rage and a lust for blood, Marcus made 2 kills against the alien enemy single-handedly that day as well as assisting his remaining squadron in destroying 5 craft using group tactics, suffering much damage to his own ship in the process.

    The deadly blow was dealt when Marcus launched flares toward an incoming missile a few seconds too late. The warhead detonated near his engines, completely shredding them. After this, he plummeted to Earth, unable to slow down in any meaningful way. His pitch upon reentry managed to slow the ship down to the point where it wouldn't be destroyed on impact, but a crash would still be fatal for the pilot. Accepting his fate, Marcus stared death in the face as his fighter slammed into Liberty Island, next to the miraculously still standing Statue of Liberty. He was killed upon impact, and his body quickly decayed to naught but a dry skeleton over the next few months. The remnants of his fighter and his skeleton stood a solemn watch over New York city at the right hand of Lady Liberty, a sad reminder of what millions fought and died for, and Marcus Lennox was just one of those casualties. As the soil reclaimed the fallen ace and his ship, nature seemed to almost recognize the incredible sacrifice of the brave souls who met their fate in August of 2128. Every spring, a field of colorful wildflowers would grow over the half-buried Styx fighter, and the lifeless skeleton of Marcus almost seemed to smile in a way, as if his soul still inhabited that place.

    Cause of death: Shot down in low Earth orbit, died upon crashing at Liberty Island in New York.
Last edited by Mercatus on Sat Jan 23, 2021 3:32 pm, edited 2 times in total.
About Me: Far-Right high schooler from Texas disillusioned with the progressive path being taken by society and propagated by young people.
Political Ideology: Right Wing Populism
Religion: Evangelical Baptist Christian

Pro: Gun Rights, Nuclear Family, Protectionist Economics, Capitalism, Israel, Border Wall, Fossil Fuels, Nuclear Energy, Traditional Social Values.
Anti: Communism, Socialism, BLM, LGBTQ Rights, Environmentalism, Affirmative Action, Globalism, Corporatism, Universalism, New Age Spirituality.

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Khasinkonia
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6473
Founded: Feb 02, 2015
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Khasinkonia » Wed Jan 20, 2021 11:04 pm

Character Description
    Name: Emmelot de Langres
    Gender: F
    Appearance:
    Image

    Original Lifespan: 1485AD - c. 1555AD
    Biological Age now: 26


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills: Needlework, embroidery, jewelry-making and repair, astronomy, and geometry. Overall a quick and eager learner.
    Weaknesses: Physically rather frail, has a very poor sense of smell, and essentially incapable of cooking


Background:
    Backstory: Emmelot was born to a noble family near Langres[citation needed]. Correspondence between her mother and a member of the court at Paris confirms that she was born on May 10th, and scholars have been able to infer based on the details within one of letters suggests that her birth took place in 1485. A note from her brother suggests that she received a somewhat unorthodox education in the respect that she was able to obtain several lessons in astronomy and geometry, albeit presumably limited on account of her gender.

    According to church records, she was betrothed and later married to Henri de Béthune between the ages of thirteen and fifteen, and married on the 23rd of January, 1502, bearing numerous children until her death. Emmelot was thus introduced into the court life in Paris. She was known to be physically frail, and it was considered odd by court physicians that she had survived into her old age, even after numerous dangerous pregnancies.
    Cause of death: Presumed natural causes
Last edited by Khasinkonia on Wed Jan 20, 2021 11:59 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Bingellia
Diplomat
 
Posts: 703
Founded: Nov 27, 2014
Iron Fist Socialists

Postby Bingellia » Wed Jan 20, 2021 11:31 pm

I'll add in the appearance section tomorrow. It's 1:30 and I'm just happy to have the meat of the app finished.

Character Description
    Name: Giovanni Caliara
    Gender: Male
    Appearance:
    (Feel free to describe with text or put pictures in here. If you are using a picture, personally, I find it easier to picture a character who is shown in photo/realistic drawing though I'm not going to get funny about anything else. Unless it is your personal stick-man art. I might draw the line at that.)

    Original Lifespan: 1483-1516
    Biological Age now: 25


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills: Traditional Navigation, for what it’s worth on a spaceship. Finance, Swordsmanship, Games of Chance, Dancing
    Weaknesses: Stubborn, flippant,


Background:
    Backstory: Caliara was born in Livorno to a moderately successful shipping family. While exact records of his early life are sparse, and presumed destroyed in the earthquake that struck the city in 1646, writings prior to Caliara’s demise imply an inspiration from Marco Polo’s achievements, as a complete set of The Travels is rumored to have been a constant presence in his luggage, and Columbus’s series of voyages to the Americas.

    Maffeo Caliara, his father, naturally groomed Giovanni, the eldest of his sons, as his successor and occasionally brought his son with him to voyages across the Mediterranean, exposing him to the variety of cultures along the assorted coastal regions of Europe, North Africa, and the Middle East. This further fed his taste for adventure and exploration, which he was keen to pursue once given the chance to operate his own vessel.

    Following in the footsteps of other Italian captains, explorers, and navigators, he soon desired to enter the service of a foreign crown to better his chances to explore the newly discovered lands across the Atlantic. His first attempt to court Spanish officials in 1506 is presumed to have failed, partially due to inexperience.

    Undeterred, correspondence shows that he made first contact with the French court in 1508, but was ultimately unsuccessful in obtaining sponsorship for a transatlantic voyage and spent the rest of his known career operating out of French ports in the Mediterranean. A ship log recovered from La Felicità’s indicates that the ship suffered a chase at the hands of Barbary Pirates. It is assumed that Caliara met his demise at the hand of a boarding action given the likelihood that he would have been able to pay a ransom, but his fate, as well as those of his crew, is mere speculation.

    Cause of death: A malfunctioning wheellock exploding.
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Dyelli Beybi
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6682
Founded: Antiquity
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Dyelli Beybi » Thu Jan 21, 2021 2:37 am

Sudbrazil wrote:
Character Description
    Name: Lieutenant Otoya Miyamoto
    Gender: Male
    Appearance:
    Original Lifespan: 1919 to 1944
    Biological Age now: 25


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills: The hills of Manchuria are filled with hardships. Otoya has overcome them with good survival skills, small unit tactics, familiarity with one's weapons and their capabilities, marksmanship, and persuasion through barked orders. Swordsmanship doesn't really fit, but it looks cool.
    Weaknesses: Arrogance and stubbornness are sins cultivated by the IJA. Together with pride and unwaveringly direct approaches, they have given her soldiers great motivation but poor discreteness and lifespans.


Background:
    Backstory:
    As another pillbox fell, Lieutenant Miyamoto Otoya urged his men deeper into the fortress city of Hengyang, whose burning ruins lit the night. Even as Emperor’s armies cut through the Middle Kingdom like a scythe through grass, many stones in the fields deflected its blows – despite lacking ammunition, despite the perpetual shelling and bombing, despite the overwhelming number of men that battered the walls like the waves of the sea, the defenders had more than enough determination to resist, and that Otoya could respect. But despite this feeling, a silent ferocity grew in his heart as another of his men fell to the Chinese bullets.

    This time one of his machine gunners went down. Over the last week of fighting, his platoon had been decimated into a section, and the section reduced to a squad. Abandoning his carbine, the officer dashed into the open and hauled the man back to cover.

    “Duty is heavier than a mountain...” he recalled as shots popped around him. His men were disposable but he still felt responsible for them, and every rifleman was hours of labour and weeks of training lost. Otoya felt bad for thinking in such utilitarian terms as the squad medic applied a bandage. That man had been with him for six years of bloody fighting, and he did not want to see him join the others piled under the bunkers, cliffs and trenches of the Chinese fortifications. Slowed down by the wounded, the unit lagged behind the main push into the city, perfectly timed to bear the brunt of the Chinese flanking action.

    His squad was reduced to a fireteam, and Miyamoto emptied his carbine in defence of the rearguard. The push had to continue, no matter the cost. The entire Operation depended on it. He emptied his revolver into a man, realized his ammunition pocket was empty, then smacked the next bastard he came across with the grip.

    As he drew his sword, he thought of his family in Hiroshima, his stern father, his kind mother, his siblings and the watchmaker’s shop he was to inherit. He thought of the woods and beaches and the spirit of a nation he would never see again with the pent up bitterness of a warrior dying at the doorstep of victory.

    “... Death is lighter than a feather.”

    The enemy commander was a honourable man. It would be no shame to perish that day.

    Cause of death: Multiple 8mm Mauser rifle wounds.


Bingellia wrote:I'll add in the appearance section tomorrow. It's 1:30 and I'm just happy to have the meat of the app finished.

Character Description
    Name: Giovanni Caliara
    Gender: Male
    Appearance:
    (Feel free to describe with text or put pictures in here. If you are using a picture, personally, I find it easier to picture a character who is shown in photo/realistic drawing though I'm not going to get funny about anything else. Unless it is your personal stick-man art. I might draw the line at that.)

    Original Lifespan: 1483-1516
    Biological Age now: 25


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills: Traditional Navigation, for what it’s worth on a spaceship. Finance, Swordsmanship, Games of Chance, Dancing
    Weaknesses: Stubborn, flippant,


Background:
    Backstory: Caliara was born in Livorno to a moderately successful shipping family. While exact records of his early life are sparse, and presumed destroyed in the earthquake that struck the city in 1646, writings prior to Caliara’s demise imply an inspiration from Marco Polo’s achievements, as a complete set of The Travels is rumored to have been a constant presence in his luggage, and Columbus’s series of voyages to the Americas.

    Maffeo Caliara, his father, naturally groomed Giovanni, the eldest of his sons, as his successor and occasionally brought his son with him to voyages across the Mediterranean, exposing him to the variety of cultures along the assorted coastal regions of Europe, North Africa, and the Middle East. This further fed his taste for adventure and exploration, which he was keen to pursue once given the chance to operate his own vessel.

    Following in the footsteps of other Italian captains, explorers, and navigators, he soon desired to enter the service of a foreign crown to better his chances to explore the newly discovered lands across the Atlantic. His first attempt to court Spanish officials in 1506 is presumed to have failed, partially due to inexperience.

    Undeterred, correspondence shows that he made first contact with the French court in 1508, but was ultimately unsuccessful in obtaining sponsorship for a transatlantic voyage and spent the rest of his known career operating out of French ports in the Mediterranean. A ship log recovered from La Felicità’s indicates that the ship suffered a chase at the hands of Barbary Pirates. It is assumed that Caliara met his demise at the hand of a boarding action given the likelihood that he would have been able to pay a ransom, but his fate, as well as those of his crew, is mere speculation.

    Cause of death: A malfunctioning wheellock exploding.

Khasinkonia wrote:
Character Description
    Name: Emmelot de Langres
    Gender: F
    Appearance:
    Original Lifespan: 1485AD - c. 1555AD
    Biological Age now: 26


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills: Needlework, embroidery, jewelry-making and repair, astronomy, and geometry. Overall a quick and eager learner.
    Weaknesses: Physically rather frail, has a very poor sense of smell, and essentially incapable of cooking


Background:
    Backstory: Emmelot was born to a noble family near Langres[citation needed]. Correspondence between her mother and a member of the court at Paris confirms that she was born on May 10th, and scholars have been able to infer based on the details within one of letters suggests that her birth took place in 1485. A note from her brother suggests that she received a somewhat unorthodox education in the respect that she was able to obtain several lessons in astronomy and geometry, albeit presumably limited on account of her gender.

    According to church records, she was betrothed and later married to Henri de Béthune between the ages of thirteen and fifteen, and married on the 23rd of January, 1502, bearing numerous children until her death. Emmelot was thus introduced into the court life in Paris. She was known to be physically frail, and it was considered odd by court physicians that she had survived into her old age, even after numerous dangerous pregnancies.
    Cause of death: Presumed natural causes


These are all accepted.

Merc, as you've written a future app I'm going to run it past the mod team for thoughts and will get back to you shortly.

User avatar
Ameriganastan
Khan of Spam
 
Posts: 52670
Founded: Jul 01, 2008
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Ameriganastan » Thu Jan 21, 2021 3:09 am

Character Description
    Name: Clarence Joseph Boyd
    Gender: Male.
    Appearance:
    Image

    Original Lifespan:: 1845-1865
    Biological Age now: 20


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills: A good shot, especially considering the firearms of the time. Not a bad fistfighter either.
    Weaknesses: Illiterate, stubborn and has the opinion on other races you'd expect of a guy plucked from the Confederate side of his war.


Background:
    Backstory: Clarence Joseph Boyd truly believed in the Confederate cause. When the army came through his town looking for able bodied young men during the opening months of the war, Clarence jumped at the chance to join his brothers on the battlefield and repel the Yankee menace, even though he was only a boy of 16. Clarence fought and survived in battles all across his native Texas. Corpus Christi, Galveston, Laredo. He was there for them all. But no amount of passion and luck could stop the inevitable. The war was a losing effort. Clarence was there at Palmito Ranch on May 12th. General Lee had surrendered, the Confederacy was over and they were preparing to go home defeated. Only for Colonel Barrett to order an attack on Fort Brown. Of the minute casualties, Clarence was one of them. Struck down less than 24 hours before he would have returned home.
    Cause of death: 2 gunshots in the chest.
The Incompetent Critic
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Force of nature.
The Ameri Train.
The Ameri song
Tsundere Ameri.
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Ameri goes to court.
Universal Constant
Edward Richtofen wrote:Ameri's so tough that he criticized an Insane Asylum and was promptly let out

Ameri does the impossible.
Fire the Ameri.
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Krazakistan wrote: He is a force of negativity for the sake of negativity

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Grenartia
Post Czar
 
Posts: 44623
Founded: Feb 14, 2010
Left-wing Utopia

Postby Grenartia » Thu Jan 21, 2021 7:56 am

Character Description
    Name: Elizabeth Carlotta Jones
    Gender: Woman
    Appearance:
    Image

    Original Lifespan: 1861-1912
    Biological Age now: 21


    Strengths and Weaknesses
      Skills: Math, science (particularly chemistry and physics, and a passing familiarity with contemporary biological and psychological theories) history, sociology, sharpshooting, and playing the violin.
      Weaknesses: Jane of many trades, master of few. Her cooking is also remarkably terrible.


    Background:
      Backstory:
      Elizabeth was born to her family not long after they became involved in the lucrative coal (and later, oil and steel) industry. As such, she lived a relatively comfortable life. From an early age, she had taken an interest in books, and would often spend her days reading. Also around this time, she found another voice in her mind, and learned it was for the best to keep the other voice's presence a secret. This voice called herself Athena, in reference to the Ancient Greek goddess of wisdom and strategy. Elizabeth and Athena at first clashed over how to divide their time and make decisions. Elizabeth preferred reading about math and science, Athena about the humanities, and they split their time equally between the two. Her parents wisely saved and invested, and with their money, Elizabeth pursued higher education, despite not needing one, as the daughter (and presumed heiress) of a modest fortune.

      While at Oberlin college, Elizabeth noticed that she (and Athena) had no particular intimate inclination towards the masculine gender, and in fact, was quite sapphically inclined. However, due to her religious upbringing, she resolved to hide this, to Athena's dismay (but reluctant acceptance). Instead, she sought out a man with a similar predicament, and began courting him. Her marriage to James Richardson was one of pure convenience for them both, but they still enjoyed their friendship. After getting her first degree in social work, she got her second in astronomy. She also took up shooting (after the encouragement and help of a rather renowned female sharpshooter) and the violin. After the death of her parents, she and James moved into the estate she inherited, and set up a modest lab and library, where she could research the day's newer discoveries, and perhaps even do a little tinkering. James' career in finance allowed them to remain solvent enough to absorb the associated costs, and he enjoyed assisting her in his spare time. She also became involved in Suffragist circles around this time.

      While she and James both agreed to not have any children of their own, for fear of passing on their unfortunate (to them) inclinations towards the love that dare not speak its name, they adopted a few orphans, Edna, Sarah, John, and Todd. Life was, considering the circumstances, good. For her part, Athena, understanding the necessity of a lot of the things Elizabeth chose, reluctantly went along for the ride, with nobody the wiser about her existence. As the years went by, the family often took trips across the nation and even abroad. In late 1911, Elizabeth and James decided to take their family on one last trip to England for Christmas before the children went to college.

      The family trip went exceedingly well. However, they had a hard time saying their goodbyes to John, who was staying in the UK on account of having been accepted to a rather prestigious school there, and would be spending the next few months adjusting to life in England before his classes started. So the family stayed an extra month and a half, and finally booked passage on a ship back to the States. This passage was not to be, however, as a coal miners' strike mangled the shipping schedules that the earliest passage they could book was on a ship in early-mid April. Fortunately, they were able to get second-class accommodations (although they could afford first-class if they wanted to, Elizabeth wanted to save money to procure some equipment for aeronautical experiments she wanted to perform once the family returned home), so the trip wouldn't be too dismal. Or so the Richardsons thought. On the night of April 14, 1912, their ship struck an iceberg, and quickly began taking on water. The Edna and Sarah were quickly ushered onto their lifeboats, but Elizabeth and Athena were unwilling to leave Todd and James behind. Amid the confusion, she was unable to find them, and remained on deck until she realized she needed to board a life raft, hoping to pull the men out of the water. But she was too late to this realization, as the last available lifeboats had already been launched. Although her lifebelt was functional, she succumbed to the below-freezing waters of the Atlantic before she could paddle her way to a lifeboat. After the first 10 minutes, her limbs could no longer move, and by 30, her core temperature had dropped to 94 Fahrenheit. She passed not long after, but at least she had the comfort of not being alone when she did.

      Cause of death:
      Hypothermia

Lib-left. Antifascist, antitankie, anti-capitalist, anti-imperialist (including the imperialism of non-western countries). Christian (Unitarian Universalist). Background in physics.
Mostly a girl. She or they pronouns, please. Unrepentant transbian.
Reject tradition, embrace modernity.
People who call themselves based NEVER are.
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Dyelli Beybi
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6682
Founded: Antiquity
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Dyelli Beybi » Thu Jan 21, 2021 2:15 pm

Mercatus wrote:PLEASE NOTE: The date has been approved by the OP

Character Description
    Name: Marcus Lennox (or just "Mark")
    Gender: Male
    Appearance:
    Marcus has medium-length flowing red hair, fair skin, and green eyes. He stands tall at around 6'4", has an athletic frame, and weighs in at around 143 pounds. He may let facial hair grow out from time to time depending on if he wants to or not, but coming out of the pod he is clean-shaven except for his normal hair.

    Original Lifespan: May 7th 2099 - August 20th 2128
    Biological Age now: 29 (Same age as he was upon death)


I've now had a chance to consult with the rest of the mod team.

You've clearly put quite a bit of thought into this app, but at this point the character is straining the 'willing suspension of disbelief'. While his story, as a whole is fine, his level of achievement is out of the believable range for a human pilot. I've spoilered my suggestions etc. as they involve Andromedaverse lore and this RP was set up so that people who are not familiar with the setting do not need to engage with it (except if you want to write a 'future' character):

For starters, you will need to drop the kill counts you've written. Massively. Your character will have been flying small-time colonial skirmishes with other states. It's not WWIII and there's no way you'd have shot down 173 Russian Craft. The Korean War 'Ace of Aces' was Nikolai Sutyagin with 22 victories. In Vietnam, Nguyễn Văn Cốc, with 9 confirmed victories, was the pilot with the most kills. These numbers have dropped over time. I'm not going to accept a total of any more than 33 and that would mostly be jury-rigged colonial vessels, rather than the fighters of a technologically sophisticated rival State.

If you want to go with the triple digit kill count, change the app to a WWII one. That was about the only period that happened (unless you count Rene Fonck's claim of 142 victories in WWI).

You've described Marcus's victories as all against the Russians. Change that to generic enemies/adversaries/whatever. The period in Andromeda history you have chosen to set your character in isn't supposed to be the Cold War Mk II (Russians and NATO skirmishing was mentioned but wasn't supposed to be the sum of the conflicts) rather it is supposed to be marked by ongoing small-scale clashes with a variety of other States and rebellious colonists over resource rights without the situation ever descending into a total war scenario that might lead to someone dropping the bomb.

As for Victories over the alien invaders. They have direct energy weapons and shields and have been described as practically invincible in all lore in other threads. To even stand a vague chance of defeating them you need technology well in advance of what Earth had in that period. I will not accept a character claiming to have scored 19 victories over them (that's what you might expect from the KC Ace of Aces).

It is explicitly stated that there were only three Ragon vessels in the first engagement and two were destroyed by the entire Earth fleet. These are supposed to be recon vessels, not a carrier battlegroup. Unless he was piloting a capital ship he got zero kills in that engagement. In the final engagement you wrote 12... for the reason stated above about the Ragons being basically invincible, I'll accept two.

I'd also rather you don't write any description of how the Ragons felt. They are an unknowable, implacable enemy with goals that humans do not understand.

One Final Note, you called the ship the Southern Cross? While I don't mind it staying as that, it does rather sound like An Australian/NZ Vessel rather than an American one.





Ameriganastan wrote:
Character Description
    Name: Clarence Joseph Boyd
    Gender: Male.
    Appearance:
    Original Lifespan:: 1845-1865
    Biological Age now: 20


Accepted. So long as you write him as a man of his time and culture (which your weaknesses section tells me you will), I think he could make for a very interesting character! Feel free to join right in.

Grenartia wrote:
Character Description
    Name: Elizabeth Carlotta Jones
    Gender: Woman
    Appearance:
    Original Lifespan: 1861-1912
    Biological Age now: 21


Accepted as well.

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Reverend Norv
Senator
 
Posts: 3820
Founded: Jun 20, 2014
New York Times Democracy

Morgan Reynolds

Postby Reverend Norv » Thu Jan 21, 2021 3:01 pm

Character Description
    Name: Morgan Reynolds
    Gender: Male
    Appearance: Contemporaries noted that Reynolds was tall for his era - about five feet ten inches - and his sole surviving portrait shows a man with the trim but solid physique typical of the more active members of the English country gentry of his day. The portrait's somewhat overdeveloped hands and arms most likely reflect the effect of long sword training rather than artistic license. By contrast to the carefully groomed moustaches and flowing ringlets popular among most men of his era, Reynolds apparently was clean-shaven and wore his ash-colored hair cropped roughly at jaw length - the same haircut favored by Oliver Cromwell. A letter of Lady Clarence described Reynolds as "a man of well-knit form and soldier's lineaments, upon whose countenance every Virtue hath set its stamp - and thus hath left no room for gaiety, so that beauty is much diminished by a solemn duty that sleepeth not." Reynolds himself, in his diaries, suggested that his cornflower-blue eyes were an inheritance from his Welsh mother.
    Original Lifespan: 1615-1651
    Biological Age now: 30.


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills:
    Morgan Reynolds is most frequently noted by historians as an exemplar of a particular Puritan ideal: the well-rounded Renaissance man, in whom a forward-thinking attitude toward philosophy, letters, and law reflected the triumph of inward grace and civic virtue over Papist superstition and hidebound conservatism. In his thirty-one years of life, Reynolds published twenty-five translations, pamphlets, and treatises, along with a well-regarded volume of religious verse; his letters and diaries are strewn with quotations from the Bible, Virgil, Homer, Augustine, and Calvin; his household accounts budget more for books than for food. He was capable of holding fluent conversations in Latin, Greek, French, and Hebrew; his legal writing displays a sophisticated grasp of English political history, as well as of classical philosophy, history, and rhetoric; he published two works on natural philosophy that were clearly deeply influenced by Francis Bacon, and which reflect a vigorous and disciplined empiricism groundbreaking for the time. As a whole, his corpus of writing suggests a calm, rigorous, logical mind: not prone to sudden bursts of inspiration, but largely immune to the temptations of easy assumptions and flawed inferences. The one exception to this rule comes in Reynolds' political speeches: these occasionally transcend scrupulous legal logic and Ciceronian citations, and achieve a simplicity and sincerity of emotion and a clarity of moral vision that borders on the ecstatic. At such moments, even at four centuries' remove, it is possible to understand why Reynolds was considered such a dangerously eloquent spokesman for the Leveller cause.

    Reynolds' military career, while less well-studied, was equally distinguished - though more problematic. From early in the civil wars, Reynolds took the unusual step of drafting standing orders for his company, establishing consistent and rational procedures for logistics, field medicine, and battlefield communications. In at least two engagements, Reynolds overran larger forces of Royalist infantry through unconventional attacks out of the east at dawn, using the rising sun to blind pikemen: a technique regarded as dishonorable in its ruthless pragmatism. Reynolds himself appears to have nursed, with deep moral ambivalence, a considerable talent for violence. He was a notably talented horseman, and his diaries make it clear that his inclination toward perfectionism extended to swordsmanship and marksmanship. By 1645, those diaries also include strikingly brutal accounts of close combat; in one representative passage, Reynolds recalls shooting a man out of his saddle - in the back, no less - and then galloping at full speed over the fallen body in order to crush out any remaining life. Reynolds does not appear to have recognized any contradiction between his talents for scholarship and for ruthless violence; to his mind, both were fundamentally acts of service to God, rooted in an identical ethos that combined iron self-discipline with deep and personal faith. If his empiricist scholarship was subversive, so be it; his loyalty was to God and not to the king. If he killed without honor, so be it; his aim was victory in a holy cause, not fame or respect.

    Weaknesses: It seems very likely that, from 1645 or so, Reynolds suffered from what would today be diagnosed as post-traumatic stress disorder. His diaries - which became steadily more voluminous as the war continued, perhaps as an attempt to exorcise inner demons by committing them to the page - contain very clear accounts of intrusive thoughts. His detailed, brutally frank descriptions of watching some men die, or killing others, should probably be read in this light: they are moments that Reynolds could not stop reliving. In a 1650 letter, a year before he died, Reynolds confided that he felt, "day by day, some great Distemper, whereof I know not how to speak, but that departeth not from me; a black dog of grief that panteth at my heels whilst I flee, and should it attain me, I dread my soul shall be unravel'd altogether." In his diary, he asked plaintively, "how shall a man keep his reason in a world that hath none?" And in the margin of his last orders, sending him to the tower in Connaught where he would die, Reynolds scrawled a quotation from King Lear - itself a sign of desperation, in a Puritan who considered the theater immoral. "O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven - I would not be mad - Keep me in temper - I would not be mad."


Background:
    Backstory:
    Morgan Reynolds was born in the fens of East Anglia, the heartland of English Puritanism, to a nonconformist father and a Welsh mother: the daughter of a business acquaintance of his father. Reynolds' family came from the minor squirearchy; they had a small stone house, and their lands were worked by about a dozen families. His father was active in the wool trade, and this – together with the income from the rich, half-flooded farmlands of the Fens – ensured a relatively prosperous life for the family.

    Reynolds' father, like most of the local landowners, was a devout Puritan – an Independent who advocated pure local control of church matters, free from the authority either of bishops or of councils. From him, Morgan inherited his bone-deep Puritan sensibility: a deep distrust of earthly authority, a distaste for pomp and spectacle, a ferocious moral earnestness, a self-effacing dedication to his principles, and – above all – an iron self-control rooted in the belief that every action carried with it an eternal moral charge. From his Welsh mother, on the other hand, Reynolds learned his love of poetry and literature, flowers and song - and a lifelong suspicion that women were capable of a good deal more than most physicians and philosophers claimed. His parents' marriage was happy, companionate, motivated by Puritan notions of friendship and respect and not by mere economic advantage. And Reynolds would remember his childhood with great affection later in life. He spent countless hours exploring the endless marshes of the fens, criss-crossed by dykes and boardwalks; he learned to hide himself from sight amid the reeds and mudflats, and to swim – a less common skill then than it is now. His parents did not enforce rigid social segregation on their lands, and Reynolds grew up playing with the children of his family's tenants. His later politics may have owed much to this experience: Morgan Reynolds had too much faith in "good gentry" like his father to be a Digger, but his deep sympathy and friendship for the tenant class would still drive him toward the Levellers later in life. He could stomach economic inequality, but not political inequality; he had experienced the common humanity of tenant and gentry too clearly for that.

    From the age of eight, Reynolds was sent away to grammar school in Ely, where he spoke nothing but Latin for several years on end, and was immersed in the classical authors and in the Scriptures. Much of this was rote learning, but it gave Reynolds the tools that he needed to teach himself history, law, and rhetoric – which he began to do from an early age, spending long hours in the library. He proved well-loved of his Puritan teachers, and at the age of sixteen, they sent him along to their brethren at the Sidney Sussex College of Cambridge University. There, Morgan received formal training in Greek, French, and Hebrew – not to mention classical and English history, formal logic, and rhetoric. It was a grueling education, drilled into him by the rod – but it honed Morgan’s mind. His earliest adult writings come from this period: a translation from Hebrew of the Story of Susanna - in which his poetic style, spare but richly passionate, is already evident - and a somewhat amateurish but very creative defense of Baconian empiricism as a moral imperative for a Reformed society.

    After he left Cambridge in 1634 at the age of nineteen, Reynolds moved to London and studied the law at Gray’s Inn of Court. His studies were cut short by the unexpected death of his beloved mother. Reynolds returned to the fens to bury her, and a few days after her funeral he appears to have experienced a religious epiphany: he alludes in letters to having been "reprieved, by Grace unsought and unearned, of that iron collar the weight whereof bowed my head and set mine eyes only upon the mire." It seems likely that the grave sin of which Reynolds felt a need to be redeemed was carnal: his relationship with Elizabeth Martins, the daughter of a bencher at Gray's Inn whom Reynolds had courted until her father forbade the match upon pain of Reynolds' expulsion from the Inn. The two likely continued their affair in secret thereafter, and at one point Reynolds may even have fought a duel over Elizabeth; certainly, he developed a consuming interest in swordsmanship at this point in his life, for which he would be noted ever afterward. After his epiphany, Reynolds and Elizabeth publicly eloped and were married; Reynolds was duly expelled from Gray's Inn; and he spent several years helping his father with the wool business before finally finishing his studies at the Inner Temple. The lesson that Reynolds drew from the whole affair seems to have been simple: never live in sin, and never yield on principle. If he lived with integrity and paid the price, then God would see him right in the end.

    By this time, civil war was brewing in earnest. From 1638 to 1642, Reynolds was astonishingly productive for a young lawyer. He published one legal treatise arguing for Parliament's exclusive power of the purse, and another denying the right of the nobility to enclose traditional commons without Parliament's sanction; he wrote a religious tract about the iniquity of fighting in an unjust war (implicitly, the Bishops' Wars); he so incensed the Earl of Sandwich with his opposition to enclosure that he was obliged to defend (successfully, in the end) his own family's title to its land against aggressive legal challenge. Perhaps most notably, he became a well-regarded and fearless champion of John Lilburne. In one pamphlet, written under a false name but bearing all the hallmarks of Reynolds' style, he upbraided the oath ex officio as "the most damnable form of tyranny; for while the rack of the Inquisition but turns a man's body against his mind, this unholy oath cannot end but by turning a man's conscience against his God." In another pamphlet, foreshadowing Milton's superior work in Areopagitica, Reynolds argued for a radical freedom of the press: for while a seditious book would be insufficient to turn the reader against a good king or true religion, it could be a vital spur to rejecting a tyrant or false superstition, and therefore the oppressive licensing of the press was a threat and not a buttress to the security of the realm. Somehow, in the midst of this furious activity, Reynolds also managed to invent a kind of solar still - he had hoped to use it for irrigation, but quickly found that the lenses were far too expensive and the sun did not shine enough in East Anglia for it to be useful - and he published his only volume of original poetry, a book of religious verse that was modestly well-received and that reads, today, like a respectable imitation of George Herbert.

    What happened next is a matter of historical record. In 1642 King Charles I tried to arrest five Puritan members of the House of Commons; the Parliament responded by calling for a citizen army to muster. The Civil War had begun. When the Militia Act reached East Anglia, Reynolds' father was already too frail to campaign; Reynolds, by contrast, seems to have been ablaze with revolutionary fervor, convinced that a new and better world lay on the other side of the killing. In more private letters, he also acknowledged that a Royalist victory would likely result in reprisals against him for his prior writings; he had a personal stake in the war. So like thousands of other untrained citizen-soldiers, Reynolds brushed up on his De Bello Gallico, purchased a harquebusier's harness, and rode to muster: in Reynolds' case, with Edward Whalley’s new Regiment of Horse.

    The next three years were a brutal education. Commissioned a captain for little reason but that he was a gentleman, Reynolds lost half his company at Edgehill and most of the survivors at Adwalton Moor the following year. In between, he was shot, sabered, lost a finger and part of an ear to frostbite, and suffered almost constant illness; he wrote dryly to Elizabeth of "dysentery that hath proved a more faithful companion than any sergeant, so that thou needst never fear I should be lonely." He began to keep a diary during this period, and his entries reflect a marked inner hardening: initially appalled at the slaughter of battle, he quickly became more appalled that the Royalist troops seemed to be so much better at it than his own. He began to spend much of his time in camp honing his skills with sword and firelock, and writing memoranda to himself on the need for speed, aggression, discipline, ruthlessness, brutality. Reynolds noted with grim honesty that most English smallfolk did not want to choose a side in the war, and recorded in February 1643 that he had watched his men beat a farmwife to death when she tried to fight them for her last sack of grain. "You may find me much changed when I return," he wrote Elizabeth, "if God should grant me life in the new commonweal for whose birth we bleed. I pray you, love me for what I will have won, and not what I will have lost." A few days later, at Marston Moor, he was stabbed through the thigh and left with a limp that would last him the rest of his life. When the wound became infected, Reynolds only barely survived, and he spent his convalescence writing his first openly Leveller tract: stating bluntly that if Christian virtue was any qualification for leadership, then any one of his cavalry troopers had as much right to sit in Parliament as the Duke of Essex.

    The Self-Denying Ordinance and the birth of the New Model Army changed Reynolds' fortunes just as they changed the course of the war. Since dozens of aristocratic members of Parliament surrendered their commissions, Reynolds' status as a captain suddenly came to grant him authority in fact as well as in name. New training and recruitment systems replenished the ranks of his company: "Godly men," he told his diary, "and killers." At Naseby, Reynolds' company led the charge that shattered the Royalists' left flank and secured the victory; forever afterwards, it was the only battle about which Reynolds showed the least romanticism. "Good clean wind, and a thousand banners blowing in it," he wrote in a poem in his diary. "God's pleasure in the air, like spring rain yet to fall." At Langport, Reynolds was present for the destruction of the last Royalist field army in England, and captured the colors of the Northern Horse. He spent the final year of the war securing Parliament's control of Hampshire: seizing isolated castles and towers, for the most part. In one case, Reynolds attacked a tower without warning at dawn out of the east, using the rising sun to blind defenders and the mad press of fleeing civilians to keep the gate open until his troopers were inside. Rather than surrender his sword, the garrison commander informed Reynolds that he was an honorless blackguard; according to his own men, Reynolds then beat the man to the ground, seized the sword, and snapped its blade under his heel. Tossing the hilt back to the officer, Reynolds stated: "Now you are welcome to it." In his diary, Reynolds simply recorded: "Took Warblington Castle without losses. Ordered Willis and his troop out to requisition. Two killed by clubmen defending their farms. Hanged twelve militia. God, let it end."

    It did, soon enough, at least for a time. Less than six months later, Oxford fell and the King surrendered to the Scots. Reynolds returned briefly to his family lands in Cambridgeshire, and to Elizabeth. His diary stops abruptly during these few months, but his household accounts are striking: Reynolds almost completely ceased collecting rent from most of his tenants, probably as a result of the combination of plague and failed harvests that devastated England in 1646-47. As a result, Reynolds fell sharply into debt, and he clearly needed his captain's salary and pension - both of which were more than eighteen months in arrears. When Parliament ordered the New Model Army to Ireland, and warned that any who refused would not be paid at all for the war they had already fought, Reynolds rode to rejoin the Army in Newmarket and was elected by his regiment as one of two representatives - the so-called "Agitators" - that formed an Army Council alongside senior officers. Reynolds then assisted in drafting the Solemn Engagement - the Army's petition to Parliament - and he supported the Army's refusal to follow Parliament's subsequent order to disband: noting that Parliament had sat for seven years without new elections, and so had no greater claim to legal legitimacy than the Army Council.

    In the subsequent months, wounded by political unrest and personal financial hardship, Reynolds' political views hardened. He was among the drafters of the Agreement of the People: England's first proposal for genuine democracy, which demanded universal male suffrage, equipopulational constituencies, Parliamentary sovereignty, equality before the law, and freedom of conscience. Reynolds defended the Agreement of the People at the Putney Debates against more conservative officers - known as "grandees" - of the Army Council, but he failed to carry the day: the grandees promised troops their long-delayed pay in full so long as they rejected the Agreement. And after the Corkbush Field mutiny, when it became clear that to challenge the result of the debate would merely invite a civil war within the New Model Army, Reynolds placed his hope in peaceful pressure instead. "To-day," he wrote in an open letter to more extreme Levellers, "let him that hath bled for this land's liberty enjoy the just reward of his toil. For on the morrow, he shall yet remember the Good Old Cause for which he fought, nor fail to require its very incarnation of them that deny it." In a slew of petitions and pamphlets, themes in Reynolds' political writing - going back to his defense of John Lilburne a decade earlier - now began to take their final form: asserting "freeborn rights" that ranged from liberty of the press and of conscience to the abolition of debtors' prison. In fact, Reynolds' 1647 petition An Appeal to Memory was cited- nearly three centuries later - by Justice John Marshall Harlan of the United States Supreme Court.

    Reynolds seems to have greeted the news of Charles I's escape, his Engagement with the Scots, and the outbreak of the second civil war with a kind of perverse relief. For one thing, the Army was finally paid again, and he was able to put his family's finances back on a more stable footing. At a deeper level, as Reynolds wrote Elizabeth, "peace such as this hath been - a peace of starvation, stagnation, and betrayal - requireth, as doth a fallow field, some cleansing flame that it might in time bear good fruit." He rode north with a small group of veterans of his old company, and helped Sir Arthur Haselrig raise a new regiment of horse from Northumberland; as a brevet-colonel, Reynolds won a sharp engagement with the Scottish horse at the River Coquet, denying them the fords and forcing the main body of the Scottish advance west toward Preston. There, Reynolds led the northern cavalry and shattered the Scottish right flank. When the battle was over, Cromwell congratulated Reynolds on his success: the only time the two men spoke. According to John Lambert, Reynolds declared: "We have won the war for you, sir; you must win the peace for us." Cromwell replied: "Sir, I fear you burn too hot for any peace these mortal hands could frame."

    Events would prove Cromwell correct. Even with Charles I in prison, Parliament continued to attempt to negotiate with the king. From his regimental camp in Yorkshire, Reynolds drafted yet more petitions and pamphlets calling for new elections, and declaring that "a nation that hath fought a war against tyranny cannot be governed by men who bargain with it." Instead, the New Model purged Parliament of its moderate members, leaving a rump loyal only to the Army. This Rump Parliament tried, convicted, and beheaded Charles: a momentous historical act that Reynolds witnessed with grim satisfaction, and of which he wrote Elizabeth: "Would that all the men we slew, these past eight years, had so richly deserved their end."

    But even at this moment of triumph, Reynolds sensed - correctly - that the purge of Parliament marked the end of his great dream. No new and better world lay on the far shore of all this horror: only military dictatorship. A few weeks later, Cromwell arrested John Lilburne; in a pamphlet arguing that the arrest was illegal, Reynolds asked plaintively, "Shall all our friends have died only so that Honest John can face the rack before a different pack of knaves?" When Leveller troops mutinied at Banbury, Cromwell promised them that force would not be used, but then ordered a night attack and had the ringleaders executed. The dead included Captain William Thompson, who had fought with Reynolds at Naseby. "Better I had died in the clean wind of that morn," Reynolds told his diary, "than lived to see this foulness. What cause have I now for living? I have blackened my soul with all these years of blood, and in the end, 'twas all for a cheap jape." In July of 1649, there is good evidence that Reynolds suffered a mental breakdown, and perhaps even attempted suicide. Certainly, a letter to Elizabeth from that month reads very like a suicide note: asking her pardon for his long absence, and for her prayers in many years to come. Reynolds' diary then goes silent for several days, resuming on July 21 with nine words: "All is grace. The empty tomb. No more despair."

    It would prove a difficult promise to keep. In late August 1649, less than a month after his breakdown, Reynolds and his regiment - by now a mix of officers and sergeants from Cambridgeshire who had served with him in the first civil war, and of the Yorkshire cavalry troopers whom Reynolds had raised in the second war - were ordered to Ireland. Reynolds' diary is a crucial primary source for the notorious sack of Drogheda. He wrote, in the exhausted shorthand that he often used after battles: "Ordered to assault with second wave. Gave short speech: God, liberty, Good Old Cause, save us all from menace of Rome. Hard to believe now, save for the last. Climbed over bodies of first wave heaped waist-high at breach in walls. No-quarter order received - drove defenders to ground in church - set church ablaze - shot burning men as they fled - heads displayed on guildhall. Told men no raping - do not believe other colonels gave such orders. Thank God these folk are Papists. Could not bear it otherwise, not again." In his letter to Elizabeth, Reynolds wrote: "We will redeem this country. God grant that some Irish yet breathe to be redeemed, when we are done with it."

    His faith clearly waned as the campaign continued. At Wexford, Reynolds led one of the regiments that stormed the town, and recorded in his diary the sight of hundreds of bodies floating, "silent," in the River Slaney. He was not aware, at the time of the attack, that the town's garrison was in negotiations with Cromwell; when he learned of this afterward, Reynolds wrote furiously to old comrades in England that the Army had been "made the instrument, all unawares, of our Commonwealth's disgrace." A few months later, Reynolds lost almost a quarter of his regiment to typhus while in winter quarters, including several sergeants who had served with him since Edgehill in 1642. His diary entry for 11 January, 1650, reads simply: "Why? Why, why, why, why, why? Why do I bury him in this bog, after all these years? I can fathom nothing of this. I am alone in the dark, and all is shifting sand beneath me." The following spring, Reynolds' troopers were ordered dismounted to assault the walls of Clonmel, and they were driven back at the cost of hundreds more dead. Reynolds was wounded in the leg - the same leg he had nearly lost at Marston Moor - and when he had recuperated enough to walk, he struggled to Cromwell's tent to know why his men's lives had been squandered. He found that Cromwell had left Ireland the previous day to put down yet another Scots revolt: this time in support of Charles II, the exiled boy-king. "We killed the boy's father," Reynolds wrote to Elizabeth, "and thought that was an end of it. But the father had a son. All these fathers, dead at Drogheda and Wexford, they all have sons also. Where can it end?"

    The answer seemed ever more uncertain. True, organized Irish resistance crumbled. At Scarrifholis, Reynolds' regiment played a tangential role in destroying Irish forces in Ulster; at Knocknaclashy, his troopers wore down Irish pike squares with repeated volleys of pistol-fire until the foe was disorganized enough that the New Model cavalry could charge with the sword. "Led from the front and shot nine men to-day," Reynolds noted in his diary. "One in the groin, and I could hear him scream for a long time. Took pains to run him through when we charged afterward, and end his suffering." As the Irish Confederacy collapsed and the enemy fled to hills and mountains to continue the fight by guerilla warfare, Reynolds and his regiment were assigned to enforce what would today be described as a "free-fire zone" in County Wicklow: any remaining Catholic Irish were to be killed or chased off, and any foodstores or structures were to be put to the torch, in preparation for Protestant colonization. Reynolds' diary, in this period, becomes exhausted and curt: "Burned: 4 houses. Killed: 3 men. Interned for deportation: 7 men, 11 women, 9 children. Did not burn the barley - horses need it. God, God, God." Such missions would take up the last eighteen months of his life.

    But Morgan Reynolds was also notable for another reason: he was one of a very few full colonels in the New Model Army who was still, quite publicly and unrepentantly, a political Leveller. The last two years of his life, which were spent almost entirely on campaign in Ireland, offer some evidence of the seething conspiracies and counter-conspiracies that lay beneath the surface of Parliamentary rule. Only a few letters between Reynolds and John Hewson - the Parliamentary governor of Dublin, a political radical and former shoemaker with whom John Lilburne had once been an apprentice - survive. Those that do, in concert with Reynolds' cautious diary entries, reveal a startling truth: the Parliamentary army in Ireland, rife with disease and dissension, was also host to a Leveller cabal that kept the Agreement of the People alive among the rank-and-file. As Reynolds' moral disgust (and strategic qualms) with the unending campaign in Ireland mounted, so too did his audacity. "A generation of England's finest flowers shall drown in this Papist bog," he warned Hewson in a surviving letter, "and such godly and decent men shall never again be seen. What we lose here can never be recovered." What exactly the cabal intended to do remains murky - but there is some evidence that Reynolds was in contact with Edward Sexby, and so it is not out of the question that their ultimate goal encompassed the death of Oliver Cromwell.

    But Reynolds' circle was not the only conspiracy within the army in Ireland. Letters from Sir Hardress Waller to his superiors in London indicate the existence of a counter-cabal, founded by Henry Ireton and anchored by army grandees, that was bent on curbing the spread of Leveller ideology within the army. Morgan Reynolds was clearly known to this group, and they understood the threat that he posed to the stability of Cromwell's regime. It is in this context that we must read Reynolds' final orders from army command: instructing him to proceed, alone, to an isolated tower in Connaught for briefing on a matter of "the most profound consequence." Official records indicate that, in a matter of hours before or after that rendezvous at Aughleam, Colonel Morgan Reynolds was killed in an ambush by Irish rebels. It has been debated ever since whether Reynolds was, in fact, assassinated by the faction within the army that aligned with Cromwell and the grandees. The best evidence for such a conspiracy is surely Reynolds' last letter to Elizabeth, in which he seems entirely aware of his immanent death. "I remember London, when we were young," Reynolds wrote. "And how I would come to your window, and know the touch of your skin. I shall never touch it more, now. I have spent too little time in your company, for I did not know how brief my time was to be. But I could not have loved you any more than I did; nor could any man. You are all the joy I have ever known or needed. And when my day comes, I shall climb your window one last time, and wait there - in the still and the dark - until that hour when we shall never more be parted."

    Morgan Reynolds died, sword in hand, on 27 October 1651. He was buried in Westport, where his grave was destroyed in the rebellion of 1798. Elizabeth Reynolds never remarried, and after her death and the Restoration, Reynolds' lands passed to the Earl of Sandwich. His name is little known, today, nor much remembered; only a few legal and military historians pore over the details of his life. Upon his tomb, before it was defaced, Elizabeth had a single verse from Isaiah inscribed: "The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand for ever."


    Cause of death: Killed in battle near Aughleam, Connaught, in Ireland, 27 October 1651. Historians have debated ever since whether Irish rebels or agents of Oliver Cromwell were responsible.
Last edited by Reverend Norv on Wed Jan 27, 2021 12:31 pm, edited 6 times in total.
For really, I think that the poorest he that is in England hath a life to live as the greatest he. And therefore truly, Sir, I think it's clear that every man that is to live under a Government ought first by his own consent to put himself under that Government. And I do think that the poorest man in England is not at all bound in a strict sense to that Government that he hath not had a voice to put himself under.
Col. Thomas Rainsborough, Putney Debates, 1647

A God who let us prove His existence would be an idol.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer

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Mercatus
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Posts: 1232
Founded: Mar 27, 2019
Ex-Nation

Postby Mercatus » Thu Jan 21, 2021 3:09 pm

Mercatus wrote:PLEASE NOTE: The date has been approved by the OP

Character Description
    Name: Marcus Lennox (or just "Mark")
    Gender: Male
    Appearance:
    Marcus has medium-length flowing red hair, fair skin, and green eyes. He stands tall at around 6'4", has an athletic frame, and weighs in at around 143 pounds. He may let facial hair grow out from time to time depending on if he wants to or not, but coming out of the pod he is clean-shaven except for his normal hair.

    Original Lifespan: May 7th 2099 - August 20th 2128
    Biological Age now: 29 (Same age as he was upon death)


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills:

    Ace Pilot: Marcus was a fighter pilot for the United States Space Corps and has proven to perhaps be the most adept pilot in service. Most of his foes found it near impossible to land a hit on him, as he was so swift and precise in his movements that he could weave his craft in between streams of enemy fire. His superb aiming skills also accounted for his rather high kill count of 33 craft and many assists with other pilots, although his count isn’t the highest recorded, as aces who have served for longer than him have racked up higher numbers. His tangles with enemy aces are also a testament to his raw skill, as he has always been the one to emerge victorious from these intense dogfights. His flying style can be described as highly aggressive and precise, preferring to swiftly close in while letting out a calculated and powerful barrage of weapons fire. Marcus is qualified to fly most types of spacecraft in service during his heyday, including large capital ships should the current pilots of such vessels become incapacitated. His training included learning to fly aircraft before he was taught how to fly a spaceship, so he can also perform this task should it be required.

    Mathematics: The academic section of his training regimen included extensive teaching and mastery of various mathematical fields, ranging from basic algebra to calculus and trigonometry. As such, he is very proficient in arithmetic of all kinds, as knowledge of such fields was employed when making calculations while flying. This skill also has some application in engineering, but beyond equipment maintenance Marcus can’t really apply this knowledge to engineering fields.

    Leadership: In the context of small groups and in-the-moment decision making, Marcus is an excellent leader. His command of a fighter squadron has taught him much in the psychology of how a team works, and he has a greatly positive effect on the morale of his troops. His military background enables him to decide swiftly when presented with multiple options, and should his decisions have averse consequences he is more than willing to take the blame.

    Small Arms Competency: During his time in the service, Marcus took a 3-month training course on tactical use of small arms, which was led by members of the special operations community. While not the best operator, he could handle himself should the carrier his fighter was docked at be boarded. Note that the course did not include a long range section, instead focusing on close quarters battle, so sniper work is best left to someone specially trained in that art.

    Weaknesses:

    Survivor’s Guilt: Marcus bears the extremely heavy burden of having technically not been killed as the rest of his comrades were during the Ragon invasion. First, he found out around a week before he was killed that his wife and 4 year old son were confirmed dead, giving him a grief he almost could not bear. Alongside this, his witnessing of the deaths of his squadron and being around to remember it have compounded the grief he experienced after his family was killed. He feels that it was his failure that caused their deaths, that he could have done something that would have prevented it. Marcus believes that it should be himself and not them that were killed, and the memories of his comrades, wife, and son torment him, causing him extreme stress and an unhealthy and also perhaps dangerous obsession with perhaps finding a way to bring them back with the newfound time travel capabilities of the Icarus. As well as this, such traumatic memories can summon flashbacks, especially during battle, possibly putting himself and others at risk, and he is barely able to sleep even a few hours, which overall degrades his health.

    Fragile Ego: Marcus feels a need to outcompete everyone, no matter what the task may be. The high expectations of his superiors likely contributed to him being somewhat overconfident in his abilities, as he always outperformed his squadron and other wing commanders in just about anything related to flying. Marcus has an excessive fear of failure, especially after blaming himself for the deaths of his comrades, and his overall capability to accept defeat of any kind is abysmally low. His personal rules and the military doctrine he grew up with have made him come to expect only success and excellence in his performance, an attitude that will likely need to be broken so he can function normally as a subordinate member of a team.



Background:
    Backstory: Almost everything about the life of Marcus Lennox was tied to the military in some shape or form. From the very age he could attend school, he went to Military Academies instead of normal public or private school. Alongside academics, he learned to follow orders, how to be a leader, how to be organized, and so on. His entire family line for the past 400 years had served and fought in wars, and he would be no exception. Growing up, Marcus showed promise to his superiors, as he had proven himself a capable leader from the age of 14, and by then was already learning to fly jet aircraft. Of course, the few friends he had outside of military school were weirded out a bit, noting that he always seemed a little too serious, and everything about his demeanor was governed by military doctrine. He never wore a hat inside buildings, he wore his uniform most of the time, and didn't really grasp social cues from those who had a civilian upbringing. As he grew older, his social edges rounded out a bit.

    When he graduated what would be high school for him, he immediately shipped off to the United States Space Force Academy (USSFA), where he would begin his path to becoming a true soldier. The man seemed to radiate patriotism, and his leadership qualities combined with that were a huge morale boost for his fellow trainees. However, it was also here that his competitive side really showed, and he frequently used cutthroat methods and his sheer competitive will to gain even just a small victory. For this reason, he was also a divisive figure during his training days.

    When he completed basic training, he went on to join the United States Space Fighter Corps (USSFC), as his passion for flying and desire to see combat against the Russians burned within him at the time. He was someone that most instructors used as an example, as he excelled in most exercises. His simulator scores were the highest among his class, and when competitive simulator days were scheduled, other trainees found that he was practically untouchable. He weaved so elaborately and liquidly through the computerized cannon fire, and such speed and concentration baffled them. After leaving training for good, he was shipped off to the USS Lincoln, a carrier well known in the public eye for its excellent wartime track record and crew of skilled pilots. Hearing of Marcus' academy exploits excited the COs and wing commanders aboard the Lincoln, and many fought with vicious words over who's wing Marcus would be assigned to.

    At the time of shipping out, the Lincoln was stationed in Saturn orbit, spearheading a campaign against a small cell of the Chinese space fleet that had turned to piracy for control over the resource-rich rings. As of then, the fighting was pushing both sides back and forth, but little ground was gained by either side. Marcus hardly had to wait a few days before his first combat mission, as a large group of Chinese fighter craft were on an intercept course with the carrier. The craft Marcus had been assigned to fly was the Lockheed Martin F-220 Styx, a heavy fighter with powerful weapon systems, tough armor, and excellent maneuverability and speed for its class. At the time, these had only been in service for a few months, but their performance had already begun to show promise. The first time he suited up in the near-70 pound flight suit/battle armor, Marcus shook somewhat from the anticipation of his first real battle. Sure, his scores in the simulator were excellent, but this was real. He could die out here today, as many unfortunate enlistees did on their first mission.

    However, that was not at all the case. That day, Marcus took home 3 birds, and his vessel suffered only a few hits. Later, the number of hits the enemy scored on him would be reduced to just grazes. Of course, he always had the occasional bad day where a stream of rounds perforated his wings or tail fins. He rapidly rose the ranks aboard the Lincoln, and by the time of his death he held the rank of Captain and commanded his own fighter squadron. It was about mid way through his career when he met and married a female logistics officer named Martha, and they had one child, a boy, and named him Jacob. Martha was granted indefinite maternity leave, as with both parents being active duty military Jacob would have no one to raise him. Marcus made his best efforts to come visit them in between deployments. His kill count continued to rise after every battle, but before he could breach 200 victories, a mark which most space aces before him had reached, the Ragon came waltzing their way through the wormhole.

    At the time, Lincoln was already en route to Mars when the alert came that unidentified vessels had emerged from a space-time anomaly. Answering the call, the captain of the vessel expedited the journey with no concern for fuel. Within a day, most of Earth's space fleet had gathered to engage the mysterious invaders. Marcus was much more nervous than he had ever been due to the unknown enemy he and others now faced. His squadron was ordered to fly a short reconnaissance flyby to see what data could be gathered on their capabilities. In the flyby, the group made sure to stay a reasonably safe distance from a hypothesized range of which the Ragon weapons would be most accurate. They took some fire from defensive turrets, with none of the shots hitting, but confirmed that the enemy indeed possessed directed energy weapons. Flying back to group up with the fleet, Marcus flew escort in case such was needed. After the fleet drove the alien invaders back, Marcus and Co. drank wildly in celebration at humankind’s first (and only) victory against a highly advanced invader. However, a week later, when nearly 100 of the alien vessels made their way to the Solar System, Marcus and his squad were back to business.

    During the course of the short battle, the Lincoln was destroyed and the remnants showered over the Martian surface. Half of the fighters under Marcus' command were destroyed, and he soon realized that staying would mean the pointless deaths of him and his remaining crew. They made the decision, along with a few other squadrons, to retreat to the Martian surface and regroup. Shortly after landing, the battle in Martian orbit had ended, and a small Ragon garrison was left to patrol the Martian surface. It was also then that Marcus found out his beloved wife and son had both been killed in the battle over Mars, as they were both living in a suite they owned on board a space station in Mars orbit, which had been confirmed destroyed. Marcus was devastated after this, and he vowed revenge against the Ragon for this unforgivable transgression. Pulling up a record of docked vessels on Mars, Marcus and Co. found the old colony ship Aquarius in a shipyard that had seen little action due to its civilian purposes. The Aquarius was first constructed in 2072 and made multiple journeys across the Solar System over the decades, bringing colonists to and from different planets and moons. It was a carrier of hopes and dreams, and what remained of Earth's space forces had hope of reaching their ancestral homeland to help in a resistance war effort against the alien invaders. The huge vessel was much larger than Lincoln, but due to its dated components and engines it was also much slower. A full restoration of the vessel's functions was expedited over 4 days, and the fighter craft were loaded into the hangar bay. The idea was to escape Martian orbit and continue home using stealth, avoiding combat as much as possible.

    Things were seemingly going smoothly when the Aquarius escaped the Martian atmosphere, but shortly afterward a Ragon patrol spotted them. The focus was escaping as fast as possible, and the efforts of the crew paid off. The vessel managed to avoid most incoming fire and continue on, with the Ragon vessels giving up after a short while, knowing the likely doom that awaited the Aquarius in Earth orbit. After 12 days of travel, the ship finally arrived in high orbit between the Moon and Earth. The explosions and sights of war could be seen easily even from this distance, and radar showed that the Ragon tightly controlled Earth's low orbit region. Pressing forward, the pilots intended to speed past the warships and land somewhere remote, after which they would fly out and try to meet up with resistance fighters. As the Aquarius entered low orbit, all available fighter pilots were scrambled to protect it on reentry, with Marcus spearheading the effort. Immediately, the vessel was swarmed by all manner of Ragon spacecraft, and the 30 or so Styx fighters were no match for such a large horde. The aliens cut through the human fleet like warm butter, and most of the pilots had been killed within the first 6 minutes and the Aquarius had been badly damaged. In all of 20 minutes, the colony vessel met its end when it tried to reenter the atmosphere, but damage to the heat shields caused it to explode and rain debris all over the Atlantic Ocean. As for Marcus, his final stand was his most impressive fight. Fueled by rage and a lust for blood, Marcus made 2 kills against the alien enemy single-handedly that day as well as assisting his remaining squadron in destroying 5 craft using group tactics, suffering much damage to his own ship in the process.

    The deadly blow was dealt when Marcus launched flares toward an incoming missile a few seconds too late. The warhead detonated near his engines, completely shredding them. After this, he plummeted to Earth, unable to slow down in any meaningful way. His pitch upon reentry managed to slow the ship down to the point where it wouldn't be destroyed on impact, but a crash would still be fatal for the pilot. Accepting his fate, Marcus stared death in the face as his fighter slammed into Liberty Island, next to the miraculously still standing Statue of Liberty. He was killed upon impact, and his body quickly decayed to naught but a dry skeleton over the next few months. The remnants of his fighter and his skeleton stood a solemn watch over New York city at the right hand of Lady Liberty, a sad reminder of what millions fought and died for, and Marcus Lennox was just one of those casualties. As the soil reclaimed the fallen ace and his ship, nature seemed to almost recognize the incredible sacrifice of the brave souls who met their fate in August of 2128. Every spring, a field of colorful wildflowers would grow over the half-buried Styx fighter, and the lifeless skeleton of Marcus almost seemed to smile in a way, as if his soul still inhabited that place.

    Cause of death: Shot down in low Earth orbit, died upon crashing at Liberty Island in New York.


Edited with the suggestions made.
About Me: Far-Right high schooler from Texas disillusioned with the progressive path being taken by society and propagated by young people.
Political Ideology: Right Wing Populism
Religion: Evangelical Baptist Christian

Pro: Gun Rights, Nuclear Family, Protectionist Economics, Capitalism, Israel, Border Wall, Fossil Fuels, Nuclear Energy, Traditional Social Values.
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Ameriganastan
Khan of Spam
 
Posts: 52670
Founded: Jul 01, 2008
Iron Fist Consumerists

Postby Ameriganastan » Thu Jan 21, 2021 5:08 pm

Is the language too much? I want to properly display him as a backwoods Confederate dope, but I'll skirt around the unpleasant terms if it bothers anyone.
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Arengin Union
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 8858
Founded: Feb 23, 2016
Left-Leaning College State

Postby Arengin Union » Thu Jan 21, 2021 6:10 pm

Character Description
    Name: Sir Isaac Charles
    Gender: Male
    Appearance:
    Image

    Original Lifespan: 1194-1250
    Biological Age now: 46


Strengths and Weaknesses
    Skills: Isaac is a skilled warrior whose acquired skill needed to face the Repentless Islamic Onslaught he was training practically from birth to fight. As a result of this he is immensely strong, resilient, and courageous for better or worse. He is also knowledgeable in the bible and the history and political troubles of his era as well as being well versed in English, French, Spanish, Latin, and Arabic dialects.
    Weaknesses: Isaac is socially ignorant by modern standards, unable to work with anybody who does not fit certain ethical, moral, and religious criteria and he looks upon everything and everyone with distrust and what some could call bigotry and is more than likely to take quite a while to adapt to the very strange world he's been brought to.


Background:
    Backstory: Born in the aftermath of the Crusade of Henry V, Isaac was born following in his father's footsteps as a crusader in service of the Church. Isaac's father died during the taking of Beirut and he as a member of the Knight's Templar and as such the young lad was taken into by the order soon after turning 7 where he became a squire and came under the training of his own father's mentor Phillipe de Plessis who would become the Grand Master of the Order until his sudden disappearance in 1209. Isaac took Phillipe's disappearance with great pain as he had been the closest thing to a father he had ever had, it was then that he came under the tutelage of the next Grand Master Guillaume de Chartres. Under command of Chartres Isaac saw his first battles, from the fields of Hispania driving the Moors to the sea to the wide deserts of Egypt until the Grand Master's final death after the battle of Damietta.

    Isaac would see many more Grand Masters come and go as the decades went on and he partook in many battles and over the years became nothing more than a warrior brought forth by God's light as a servant of his will. Isaac became skilled in many forms of his combat of his time and was known for being one who barely took any step back home and instead was always at the service of the Order. Over the years however, Isaac became disconnected from the teachings of the Church as they along with the Order became dogmatic and as he read over the bible on his own he became disheartened by the amount of death and killing he had done at the guidance of a so-called Holy Order. Despite his preambles Isaac continued in service of the Order and the Church despite tributations and constant disagreements with the Grand Masters.

    Isaacs ultimate fate came during the Seventh Crusade where he and the Knights came to assist Louis IX of France's ill fated crusade. Despite Isaac and his comrades best efforts the crusaders saw defeat after defeat culminating in the Battle of Fariskur which resulted in a complete anhilation of the Christian forces and capture of the foolish French ruler. Isaac's last memories are that of fighting off dozens of Ayyubid warriors, stabbed multiple times with arrows piercing his armor only for him to ultimate be consumed by the Greek fires brought by the Muslim forces. Now awakened in a strange place Isaac is ready as he was back then to die on the defense of the one true Lord, or will his faith be shattered and he would be consumed by another fire not unlike the one from the gate's of hell? Only fate will tell.

    Cause of death: Stabbed by multiple blades by barbaric Ayyubid non-believers and ultimately consumed by Greek fire.
Last edited by Arengin Union on Thu Jan 21, 2021 6:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Dyelli Beybi
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6682
Founded: Antiquity
Civil Rights Lovefest

Postby Dyelli Beybi » Fri Jan 22, 2021 7:09 am

Ameriganastan wrote:Is the language too much? I want to properly display him as a backwoods Confederate dope, but I'll skirt around the unpleasant terms if it bothers anyone.


Doesn't worry me so long as you don't invite the wrath of the mods upon us :P

Arengin Union wrote:
Character Description
    Name: Sir Isaac Charles
    Gender: Male
    Appearance:
    Original Lifespan: 1194-1250
    Biological Age now: 46


Looks good to me.


Mercatus,

I also haven't missed the fact that you've amended the app. I'll have a chat with the other group mods and get back to you.

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Mercatus
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1232
Founded: Mar 27, 2019
Ex-Nation

Postby Mercatus » Fri Jan 22, 2021 12:34 pm

Dyelli Beybi wrote:

Mercatus,

I also haven't missed the fact that you've amended the app. I'll have a chat with the other group mods and get back to you.


*Awaits customer service call*

Hope I can get this done soon considering the IC already has 40 responses.
About Me: Far-Right high schooler from Texas disillusioned with the progressive path being taken by society and propagated by young people.
Political Ideology: Right Wing Populism
Religion: Evangelical Baptist Christian

Pro: Gun Rights, Nuclear Family, Protectionist Economics, Capitalism, Israel, Border Wall, Fossil Fuels, Nuclear Energy, Traditional Social Values.
Anti: Communism, Socialism, BLM, LGBTQ Rights, Environmentalism, Affirmative Action, Globalism, Corporatism, Universalism, New Age Spirituality.

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