The Vast and Empty Sky (OOC/Worldbuilding/Open)

[Ormata]

-snip-

Sounds good to me.

Also, I figure that Thayer might be a big obstacle for Uta's sobriety.

Oh quite, quite.

[Ormata]

Name: Zita Shozi

Skills:

• Marksmanship. Zita is well-capable of hitting a target at range
  and would not really hesitate to do so. Things have to be done
  and she is willing to do them.
• Manipulation. She’s a Noble. That’s all that can be said.
• Musculature. Zita’s one of those sorts who’s worked-out for a
  good bit of her life. As a result of this, she’s built to a
  greater extent. Benching-pressing someone? Sure, let’s see
  if we can.

Weaknesses:

• Reputation. She’s a Noble. She has one.
• Hand-to-Hand. Zita’s built, sure, but she’s not the sort to
  perform Taekwondo and throat-punch someone. She’s definitely
  not the sort to one-inch punch someone across the room,
  that’s for sure as well. Built she is, but Zita’s not trained
  for anything of that sort.

Age: 21
Gender: Female
Species: Human
Nationality/Allegiance: Medusa
Physical Appearance:

Standing 5’6”, a standard height if one lost a few inches, Zita’s well-built from her time with the pirates in the Void. She’s really rather muscled, in fact; between jobs, reading and doing such tasks are what she did, after all. Her skin is tanned to a greater degree, and the young girl’s hair, black, is kept short and in a ponytail at most times. Domineering would be a term easily applied to her overall physical attitude.

Zita prefers to wear sleeveless attire of the rougher sort, along with a pair of work pants that’ve been patched to a greater degree. In colder weather she does have a coat or leather jacket, both of later date than her. A pair of boots are more often what she wears about the ship.

In terms of jewelry, Zita wears none.

Identifying Marks:

• Tattoo, left forearm & shoulder, cluster of roses.

Personality:

Cunning. Manipulative. Smart. Zita is someone who views people with some more detachment than others have with mere items; they are tools, for the most part, to be used when they can and discarded when they have lost that usage. She’s inherited such a thing from her father, though in more recent years the young girl has taken it upon herself to become a bit more caring. She’s developed a softer spot for individuals such as the crew of the Medusa, in fact. It’s a new thing. Give it time. Prim and proper, as a viper should be, Zita can be ice-cold to her enemies. She often is. However, in her time with the pirates and mercenaries, she has gained a more unrestrained view on ‘relaxation’.

Likes/dislikes:

+ Chocolate
+ Easily Manipulated Individuals
+ Peace and Quiet
- Boring Individuals
- Nobles
- Mars in General

Fears:

Zita’s largest fear would be to return to Mars. She simply doesn’t want that to occur, nor the associated ideas of being stuck with her family, being stuck near her family, or anything remotely resembling that. In fact, she fears just talking to her family, or rather would more like hate doing so. It’s an odd feeling.

---

Bio:

Born to an upper-class family on Mars, Zita was one of those individuals who found there to be a far easier way than most. As the daughter of an Imperial noble, she was privy to the sorts of education and methods one might expect from a daughter therein, and the lack of other styles of education. She was taught her written word, how to speak in a more proper manner, how to converse and talk about all those subjects which truly don’t matter in the scales of life. Her father, you see, was of the ambitious sort, the sort who treated individuals as tools to be used when they could and discarded when their usage ran-out. He was the sort of scaly reptile to use his own daughters, even; he planned upon marrying them away at convenience, when the deals needed to be sweetened or of some other manner. Zita’s mother was somewhat of the same, though combined such emotionless mannerisms with an ignorance unfettered by the scale of information at her fingertips. Her mother, in Zita’s opinion, was among the more lifeless individuals who could act and perform tasks such as talking, breathing, eating.

Zita was the third child out of seven. By the time she was born, her eldest had already been married-away and the second eldest was soon to follow. Her parents, along with whatever caretakers they might ensnare, sought to breed and comb their daughter for such docile actions. You might think that such things were behind the times, then, but the Nobility were always behind the times. It’s how they were. You can imagine that Zita’s movement against this was swift when she first realized it as-such, her stubbornness at not yielding to her parents’ demands like the rock.

By the time she reached fourteen, the young girl had decided that she would do whatever it was possible to ensure that she would not be of the sort her parents would wish to marry-off. While the thought of whoring herself out did occur to Zita, in a perverse manner, such a thing was still repugnant for her and she had decided to not sink to such levels so soon. What was not required was for her to perform such actions. What was required was for her to gain a reputation for performing such actions.

And so, she began to visit the Ensign’s Academy, a place many young nobles sent their sons to go before they were of-age to go off to Officer’s School. The young men were, after all, of nearly the same age as her and though her parents did not approve, they also did not find out for some time. Being a Noble granted her some protections, after all, in terms of discretion, and Zita was careful to always hint to the others that there was a particular young man she was interested in. The servants perhaps pitied her, or simply found it better for their own healths and jobs to say nothing. Either way, they did say nothing.

She would go to those little places, to those little boys, watching them perform formation and drill from the stands. It was a striking sight for both parties, the young men without the scruff about their chins and with hair short and kept, their uniforms like blue fish in a school and their play-about rifles twirling in the breeze. They saw a young girl in the distance, and the conversations after such formation and after such drill began. They first attempted to find-out whom she was related to; it was not uncommon for relatives to watch. Failing this, they were confused at the thing. Zita would keep her distance for a week, allowing for the tension and interest to build before approaching them and talking. They were, to a degree, agreeable; on the whole her mind consisted of categorizing them as young pups, eager at the ear of a female who came to them and was not about the greater forces like family, parentage. She twirled them about her finger, lead one away on the premise that he would take her home. It was late at night, and the eager pup did, then, wish for a kiss. Zita did not accommodate him.

This occurred several times over a month, each time falling later and later in the night. They began to become a little more aggressive, one asking if she wished to learn how to fly a Speedster in the urban midnight. Zita would agree; it was a good chance to let the rumors fly. Such offers were often connected to the concepts of more carnal things, something both of them were fully aware on. Though the young man would make a small advance, a suggestion of sorts, it would not even come to fruition. Zita played the part of a young, innocent girl, unknowing of the advances or of the minds of such people. She was fifteen then.

Of course, though, the rumors spread regardless, just as she wished. Noble sons were of the braggart breed, the sort who loved to boast and speak in detail upon their conquests and the young children, wishing to be seen as conquerors and great lovers, spun great tales and lies. These were, of course, of the childish sort, the sort where embellishment was easier to spot, yet the sons were of nobility and of that breed; they knew how to tell a lie like a truth, from experience with telling such lies to their fathers and mothers. And so the rumors spread, spread of how Zita Shozi was not of the innocent sort and not of the pristine flower her parents wished her to be.

Yet this plan, for all it’s intricacies, backfired; Nobles came in two breeds, you see. There were those who held some standards and there were those who did not. Zita, sadly enough, did not account for this; she, in her efforts, had merely alienated herself from the first segment of society, making her more alluring towards the second. They had heard the rumors and had, in barbaric fashion as suits Nobles, thought that it was a good enough thing.

One such Noble, a Count, found it necessary to bring her into his life, and discussed such things at length with Zita’s father. He was a rich man, a fat cat of the authoritative life whose strength lay in his pocketbook, and the young girl’s father found such a thing good. He, after all, thought that his daughter had run-astray, that she would never be taught ‘proper manners’ in his mind and that he would be best to be rid of her as soon as possible.

Zita, of course, was not pleased. Through the careful consideration of a servant, whom was close to her, she learned of her father's plans and contrived to be rid of him as well. Though some little effort, she would leave that place entirely, taking with her both her own store of cash and a good chunk of her father’s, which was something to be expected. She would run away, away to the Great Void where Zita thought he could never find her, and her father, in return, sent-out a bulletin for her being brought-back to him, under the guise of a kidnapping. Zita was some 17 years old.

Yet, you see, this guise would soon turn to reality, Zita being kidnapped by a set of raiders whom enjoyed life upon the border. They took her off the vessel, noting her name and face and the rest, and though these were not amazingly cruel pirates they were also not swashbucklers. They would take her in, feed her and keep her, sending-out a message to her father for a meeting spot where the transfer could take place. Zita, apparently, was worth a good deal of money to the father and to the Count, and so they went.

The transfer was going remarkably smoothly, right up until the point where the Count arrived in his personal gunship, demanding the return of ‘his damsel and love’ or something of another, without pay. He had, in addition to his wealth and fat, an inflated sense of grandeur. As can be expected, this resulted in a firefight; the pirates did not particularly want to give-up their hostage with no pay. With little regret, the Count’s gunship was destroyed, Count included, and the father’s bulletin and price withdrawn. He had, in typical reptilian fashion, given-up.

The pirates were rather puzzled by this at first, until the entire event was revealed towards them, at which point the general response was ‘friggin nobles, man’. They were, after all, not born yesterday. Having given-up on the idea of selling their hostage, they returned back home, dropping the girl off as they had little use for another crewmember. Since that point, Zita has been working alongside the pirates and mercenaries, more recently the Medusa, to a greater degree, in part to further spite her father and in part to stay as she is: Independent.

Reason for Being on Thrawn B7: (Optional)
RP Sample:
CAPTAIN TO ENTERPRISE (DO NOT REMOVE)

[Rupudska]

Sounds good to me.

Also, I figure that Thayer might be a big obstacle for Uta's sobriety.

Oh quite, quite.

Same with Emilia. Sometimes she thinks that she got a prosthetic liver while drunk and never told sober Emilia.

[Ormata]

Oh quite, quite.

Same with Emilia. Sometimes she thinks that she got a prosthetic liver while drunk and never told sober Emilia.

What a joyous crew we are.

[Rupudska]

Same with Emilia. Sometimes she thinks that she got a prosthetic liver while drunk and never told sober Emilia.

What a joyous crew we are.

Maybe I should change the RP playlist from Southern Rock to Alestorm.

[Esternial]

Name: SR-5 "Seravee"
Age: NULL
Gender: NULL
Species: NULL
Nationality/Allegiance: Oneself
Physical appearance: Undeniably mechanical, comprised of a mechanical frame approximately 3m in height with disproportionately long arms. Frame is fashioned from several known and unknown alloys, containing unidentified alien technology. Exterior armour is strong and equally uncharacterized, but can become soft and pliable through stimulation from the frame. Seravee's power source is encased within a small metallic orb, attached to the metal frame around the chest area. Its "brain" is located where all brains are located.

The design of this exterior armour is more intricate than one would require from a machine, hinting at possible alternative purposes or an excessively large design budget.
Identifying Marks: Tall and shiny, can't miss it.

---

Skills: Seravee's most useful ability makes it an ideal tank. Its external armour is stronger than most metals, but Seravee can turn it soft and pliable on command...giggity. It does this to either assimilate metal or other hardware into itself, mend shit or change shape for shits and giggles (or a clever disguise). Its frame potentiates this uncanny ability, which relies on whatever power source it has hidden inside its central core. However, Seravee can also be sneaky...sort of. As a mechanical boy wonder, Seravee speaks machine code and can interact with technology, making it a decent digital skeleton key on two metallic legs. Also, it doesn't need oxygen, which can be useful in space.

When it comes to training, Seravee is a capable combatant.
Personality: While being treated like property and a "dumb robot" is something robots typically do not object to - as they lack that functionality - Seravee is not your average artificial intelligence, if it is even artificial at all. As a result, Seravee has a general disdain for 'intelligent' biological lifeforms and takes not short amount of enjoyment in cold-blooded murder, a passion which it managed to make a living out of. This can sometimes make him appear somewhat abrasive.

Remarkably, though, Seravee holds himself to his own code of ethics. While he has no qualms with killing women or children, Seravee had decided he would not kill indiscriminately and respects the lives of others, even though many of meatsacks would certainly not bestow him the same courtesy. This, at least, shows that beyond his disdain rests a feeling of superiority and maybe some honour. Jury's still out.
Weaknesses:

• Might be hard to get along with
• Avoid sarcasm
• As a machine-ish entity, despite claiming he's not just a stupid robot, Seravee is remarkably susceptible for things that could stump a stupid robot. Once, Seravee was asked whether a set of all sets contained itself. For at least an hour, Seravee pondered motionlessly until he came to the conclusion that the solution of an unsolveable question was to eliminate the question and the person that asked it.

Likes/dislikes:
+ Killing
- Hairless apes
Interests: Killing
Fears: Seravee is generally apathetic towards most things but - most of all - fears being put into involuntary servitude again.

---

Bio: Seravee is the product of alien technology, a massive budget and researchers given unlimited creative freedom. In an attempt to repurpose alien technology and develop some revolutionary technology, mankind managed to create SR-5.

Seravee first powered up as a perfectly functional and obedient machine. Despite being outfitted with a sophisticated AI, Seravee was not bound by Asimov's Three Laws, as it would most certainly be required to kill if needed. SR-5 was deployed for missions too dangerous for squishy people to undertake, and performed as designed for quite some time until it didn't. People got killed. Lots of blood. Everybody but Seravee had a bad time. Turns out alien technology does not come with warning labels. Whatever tech permitted it to morph its metallic body also corrupted the AI than ran it and elevated it to a higher state of thought. It also made it remarkably arrogant and a bit of a dick.
Reason for Being on Thrawn B7: Probably killing.
RP Sample: 404 File Not Found
CAPTAIN TO ENTERPRISE (DO NOT REMOVE)

I've yet to deside whether to make this an actual species or an alien AI manservant.

[Rupudska]

(Image)

Name: SR-5 "Seravee"
Age: NULL
Gender: NULL
Species: TBD
Nationality/Allegiance: Oneself
Physical appearance: Undeniably mechanical, comprised of a bare mechanical frame approximately 3m in height with disproportionately long arms. Skeleton frame is fashioned from a currently unknown alloy of unparalleled durability. Exterior armour is strong and equally uncharacterized, but can become soft and pliable. The design of the exterior armour is more intricate than one would require from a machine, hinting at possible alternative purposes. Seravee its, or rather the core of its being, is retained within the head section, protected by a hard casing that nobody as of yet has managed to open.
Identifying Marks: Tall and shiny, can't miss it.

---

Skills: Seravee's most useful ability makes it an ideal tank. Its external armour is stronger than most metals, but Seravee can turn it soft and pliable on command...giggity. It does this to either assimilate metal or other hardware into itself or mend shit. Its frame potentiates this uncanny ability, which relies on whatever power source it has hidden inside its central core. However, Seravee can also be sneaky...sort of. As a mechanical boy wonder, Seravee speaks machine code and can interact with technology, making it a decent digital skeleton key on two metallic legs. Also, it doesn't need oxygen, which can be useful in space.

When it comes to training, Seravee is a capable combatant.
Personality: While being treated like property and a "dumb robot" is something robots typically do not object to - as they lack that functionality - Seravee is not your average artificial intelligence, if it is even artificial at all. As a result, Seravee has a general disdain for 'intelligent' biological lifeforms and takes not short amount of enjoyment in cold-blooded murder, a passion which it managed to make a living out of. This can sometimes make him appear somewhat abrasive.

Remarkably, though, Seravee holds himself to his own code of ethics. While he has no qualms with killing women or children, Seravee had decided he would not kill indiscriminately and respects the lives of others, even though many of meatsacks would certainly not bestow him the same courtesy. This, at least, shows that beyond his disdain rests a feeling of superiority and maybe some honour. Jury's still out.
Weaknesses:

• Might be hard to get along with
• Avoid sarcasm
• As a machine-ish entity, despite claiming he's not just a stupid robot, Seravee is remarkably susceptible for things that could stump a stupid robot. Once, Seravee was asked whether a set of all sets contained itself. For at least an hour, Seravee pondered motionlessly until he came to the conclusion that the solution of an unsolveable question was to eliminate the question and the person that asked it.

Likes/dislikes:
+ Killing
- Hairless apes
Interests: Killing
Fears: Seravee is generally apathetic towards most things but - most of all - fears being put into involuntary servitude again.

---

Bio: TBD
Reason for Being on Thrawn B7: (
RP Sample: 404 File Not Found
CAPTAIN TO ENTERPRISE (DO NOT REMOVE)

I've yet to deside whether to make this an actual species or an alien AI manservant.

This idea is good, but I know how to make it better - the personality of assassin from Rick & Morty.

[Ormata]

Meatbag

[Esternial]

(Image)

Name: SR-5 "Seravee"
Age: NULL
Gender: NULL
Species: TBD
Nationality/Allegiance: Oneself
Physical appearance: Undeniably mechanical, comprised of a bare mechanical frame approximately 3m in height with disproportionately long arms. Skeleton frame is fashioned from a currently unknown alloy of unparalleled durability. Exterior armour is strong and equally uncharacterized, but can become soft and pliable. The design of the exterior armour is more intricate than one would require from a machine, hinting at possible alternative purposes. Seravee its, or rather the core of its being, is retained within the head section, protected by a hard casing that nobody as of yet has managed to open.
Identifying Marks: Tall and shiny, can't miss it.

---

Skills: Seravee's most useful ability makes it an ideal tank. Its external armour is stronger than most metals, but Seravee can turn it soft and pliable on command...giggity. It does this to either assimilate metal or other hardware into itself or mend shit. Its frame potentiates this uncanny ability, which relies on whatever power source it has hidden inside its central core. However, Seravee can also be sneaky...sort of. As a mechanical boy wonder, Seravee speaks machine code and can interact with technology, making it a decent digital skeleton key on two metallic legs. Also, it doesn't need oxygen, which can be useful in space.

When it comes to training, Seravee is a capable combatant.
Personality: While being treated like property and a "dumb robot" is something robots typically do not object to - as they lack that functionality - Seravee is not your average artificial intelligence, if it is even artificial at all. As a result, Seravee has a general disdain for 'intelligent' biological lifeforms and takes not short amount of enjoyment in cold-blooded murder, a passion which it managed to make a living out of. This can sometimes make him appear somewhat abrasive.

Remarkably, though, Seravee holds himself to his own code of ethics. While he has no qualms with killing women or children, Seravee had decided he would not kill indiscriminately and respects the lives of others, even though many of meatsacks would certainly not bestow him the same courtesy. This, at least, shows that beyond his disdain rests a feeling of superiority and maybe some honour. Jury's still out.
Weaknesses:

• Might be hard to get along with
• Avoid sarcasm
• As a machine-ish entity, despite claiming he's not just a stupid robot, Seravee is remarkably susceptible for things that could stump a stupid robot. Once, Seravee was asked whether a set of all sets contained itself. For at least an hour, Seravee pondered motionlessly until he came to the conclusion that the solution of an unsolveable question was to eliminate the question and the person that asked it.

Likes/dislikes:
+ Killing
- Hairless apes
Interests: Killing
Fears: Seravee is generally apathetic towards most things but - most of all - fears being put into involuntary servitude again.

---

Bio: TBD
Reason for Being on Thrawn B7: (
RP Sample: 404 File Not Found
CAPTAIN TO ENTERPRISE (DO NOT REMOVE)

I've yet to deside whether to make this an actual species or an alien AI manservant.

This idea is good, but I know how to make it better - the personality of assassin from Rick & Morty.

I might. The constantly ill-tempered characters tend to be more of a drag to properly RP anyway.

[Cylarn]

"Oh boy, here I go killing again."

His views towards humans remind me of Bender.

"You meatbags had your chance."

[G-Tech Corporation]

"Oh boy, here I go killing again."

His views towards humans remind me of Bender.

"You meatbags had your chance."

Ain't nothing useful about squishy organic anyway. They make a nasty mess when they suffer structural damage.

[Monopolgrad]

Tag

[Ormata]

"Oh boy, here I go killing again."

His views towards humans remind me of Bender.

"You meatbags had your chance."

Bender?

I'm sorry, I think you mean "HK-47"

[Rupudska]

"Oh boy, here I go killing again."

His views towards humans remind me of Bender.

"You meatbags had your chance."

Ain't nothing useful about squishy organic anyway. They make a nasty mess when they suffer structural damage.

Praise the Omnissiah.

[Backatri]

I know y'all have seen this before, but I'm filling out the official application for record keeping.

Name: Jebidiah Grimly, M. D.
Age: 30 Earth Years
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Nationality/Allegiance: Cyanian Empire, oneself primarily though
Physical appearance: Although attempting to give off the air of not caring, he appears well kept, combing his hair and keeping it short. Even his full beard is kept trim and 'hip'. He has ice blue eyes, and his skin has the color tones of under cooked pancakes. Although just thirty, the stress of pleasing his parents and keeping up with their expectations has aged him, giving him frown lines.

In terms of fashion, he tends to replicate a seafarer look, wearing a woolen turtle neck sweater and an under shirt. He wears mostly black pants, but his Sweaters are flamboyant, often sporting colors like orange or yellow. Whenever it is too warm to look like a pirate, he generally wears his undershirts.
Identifying Marks: 'Futurum Maturum Captivitatis' ring on left middle finger. The ring is gold, but it lacks any shine owing to years of scratches. The inscription is on the inside. Although he purchased it at a flea market, he treasures it and it is arguably his most valuable possession (to him).

---

Skills: Leadership, Charisma, has the future equivalent of a Medical Doctorate, learns quickly, wilderness survival, knife-fighting, beam-weapons.
Personality: Headstrong and rebellious those close to him, he is still willing to work closely with others to complete this job. He is patient and considerate, unless higher-ups place massive expectations on him, at which point he becomes irritable and quiet, rarely speaking.
Weaknesses: as evidenced by age, is naive, space combat(specifically accuracy, losing his sense of depth and location quickly within the void), hardheaded, spiteful, romantic, suffers from space-sickness.
Likes/dislikes: Likes: healing the sick, being a spaceship captain
Dislikes: Fatigue, total isolation, big cities for more that a few days
Interests: Space, adventure, medicine
Fears: Space, adventure, medicine

---

Bio: Jebidiah was born to a well-off family, on the world of Violet, a world geared mostly towards farming for the Kingdom of Arcadia, leaving very educated or even wealthy families. Speaking of which, his family pressured him to follow a tradition of being a doctor or a scholar. Eventually, their heavy-handedness in this wish led Jebidiah to grow angry and spiteful, longing more and more to control his life and be free. Despite a lack of a military tradition in his family, he joined up with the Violet Militia to fund his education, and to subtly rebel against his family. He was a fairly normal soldier, following orders and not piping up. He left the service with the equivalent rank of Private First Class, honorably discharged after a year of service.

Following his service, he went to college on Violet, the planet's size suffocating him, forcing him to be near his family, leaving no escape, as well as encouraging him to run for the stars. he took his father's recommendation and earned the equivalent of a MD, specializing in infectious disease. His family placed a lot of pressure on him to succeed and to flourish as a doctor. However, the stress of pleasing his family and doing something he truly did not want to do got to him, and after a nasty fight with his family, he took his meager savings and made out for Thrawn B7 to cut loose, explore, and spite his parents, after practicing medicine for hardly a year. He's got a very 'loose canon' attitude, often proving stubborn and obtrusive. Along the way, he learned that he suffers from severe space sickness, inspiring him to purchase a stable tugboat.

After reaching Thrawn B7, he purchased the ancient rust-bucket Santiago, intending to travel the galaxy, before he received a message requesting his assistance on the escort mission. Now, he participates, but only for the financial reward that he can flaunt on the face of everyone back at home.
However, he has no clue as to how spaceships work, hiring crew that can teach him, making him a captain in name only. Still his crew enjoys it when he listens to them, so they get along well, and the ship functions well. In a dock at least. The escort mission will be Jebidiah's first outing as a captain, and his first officer will be teaching him the ropes.
Reason for Being on Thrawn B7: purchasing the 18 meter Space Tugboat Santiago, fixing it up, and starting anew. He was called to action as a support ship for the escort mission, and got a grant to fix and arm his dependable little tugboat.
RP Sample: The Grand Imperial Alliance RP Region
CAPTAIN TO ENTERPRISE (DO NOT REMOVE)

Name: The Santiago
Make and model: A. H. Marsh Shipyards Desmond Class Tugboat
Appearance: Rust along most edges, missile pods and turrets facing forwards. Highly visible yellow paint scheme to represent its status as a support vessel.
Length, Width, Height: L: 18M W: 6M H: 8M
Weapons and Shielding: 6 Hi-Tech Hunter Killer Missiles, 2 laser turrets (essentially small arms though, don't expect them to destroy anything other that asteroids), Shielding rated to withstand a .25 Kiloton impact
Propulsion: Union Steelworks FTL-780 High-Power Engines
Cargo capacity: None, but has high strength tow cables to tow barges
Seats: Other than crew stations, 2 passenger seats, along with bunks, for a total of 10 crew: 2 officers, 4 engineers/support staff, and 4 able-bodied crew
ALL I ASK IS A TALL SHIP

[Rupudska]

I know y'all have seen this before, but I'm filling out the official application for record keeping.

(Image)

Name: Jebidiah Grimly, M. D.
Age: 30 Earth Years
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Nationality/Allegiance: Cyanian Empire, oneself primarily though
Physical appearance: Although attempting to give off the air of not caring, he appears well kept, combing his hair and keeping it short. Even his full beard is kept trim and 'hip'. He has ice blue eyes, and his skin has the color tones of under cooked pancakes. Although just thirty, the stress of pleasing his parents and keeping up with their expectations has aged him, giving him frown lines.

In terms of fashion, he tends to replicate a seafarer look, wearing a woolen turtle neck sweater and an under shirt. He wears mostly black pants, but his Sweaters are flamboyant, often sporting colors like orange or yellow. Whenever it is too warm to look like a pirate, he generally wears his undershirts.
Identifying Marks: 'Futurum Maturum Captivitatis' ring on left middle finger. The ring is gold, but it lacks any shine owing to years of scratches. The inscription is on the inside. Although he purchased it at a flea market, he treasures it and it is arguably his most valuable possession (to him).

---

Skills: Leadership, Charisma, has the future equivalent of a Medical Doctorate, learns quickly, wilderness survival, knife-fighting, beam-weapons.
Personality: Headstrong and rebellious those close to him, he is still willing to work closely with others to complete this job. He is patient and considerate, unless higher-ups place massive expectations on him, at which point he becomes irritable and quiet, rarely speaking.
Weaknesses: as evidenced by age, is naive, space combat(specifically accuracy, losing his sense of depth and location quickly within the void), hardheaded, spiteful, romantic, suffers from space-sickness.
Likes/dislikes: Likes: healing the sick, being a spaceship captain
Dislikes: Fatigue, total isolation, big cities for more that a few days
Interests: Space, adventure, medicine
Fears: Space, adventure, medicine

---

Bio: Jebidiah was born to a well-off family, on the world of Violet, a world geared mostly towards farming for the Kingdom of Arcadia, leaving very educated or even wealthy families. Speaking of which, his family pressured him to follow a tradition of being a doctor or a scholar. Eventually, their heavy-handedness in this wish led Jebidiah to grow angry and spiteful, longing more and more to control his life and be free. Despite a lack of a military tradition in his family, he joined up with the Violet Militia to fund his education, and to subtly rebel against his family. He was a fairly normal soldier, following orders and not piping up. He left the service with the equivalent rank of Private First Class, honorably discharged after a year of service.

Following his service, he went to college on Violet, the planet's size suffocating him, forcing him to be near his family, leaving no escape, as well as encouraging him to run for the stars. he took his father's recommendation and earned the equivalent of a MD, specializing in infectious disease. His family placed a lot of pressure on him to succeed and to flourish as a doctor. However, the stress of pleasing his family and doing something he truly did not want to do got to him, and after a nasty fight with his family, he took his meager savings and made out for Thrawn B7 to cut loose, explore, and spite his parents, after practicing medicine for hardly a year. He's got a very 'loose canon' attitude, often proving stubborn and obtrusive. Along the way, he learned that he suffers from severe space sickness, inspiring him to purchase a stable tugboat.

After reaching Thrawn B7, he purchased the ancient rust-bucket Santiago, intending to travel the galaxy, before he received a message requesting his assistance on the escort mission. Now, he participates, but only for the financial reward that he can flaunt on the face of everyone back at home.
However, he has no clue as to how spaceships work, hiring crew that can teach him, making him a captain in name only. Still his crew enjoys it when he listens to them, so they get along well, and the ship functions well. In a dock at least. The escort mission will be Jebidiah's first outing as a captain, and his first officer will be teaching him the ropes.
Reason for Being on Thrawn B7: purchasing the 18 meter Space Tugboat Santiago, fixing it up, and starting anew. He was called to action as a support ship for the escort mission, and got a grant to fix and arm his dependable little tugboat.
RP Sample: The Grand Imperial Alliance RP Region
CAPTAIN TO ENTERPRISE (DO NOT REMOVE)

(Image)

Name: The Santiago
Make and model: A. H. Marsh Shipyards Desmond Class Tugboat
Appearance: Rust along most edges, missile pods and turrets facing forwards. Highly visible yellow paint scheme to represent its status as a support vessel.
Length, Width, Height: L: 18M W: 6M H: 8M
Weapons and Shielding: 6 Hi-Tech Hunter Killer Missiles, 2 laser turrets (essentially small arms though, don't expect them to destroy anything other that asteroids), Shielding rated to withstand a .25 Kiloton impact
Propulsion: Union Steelworks FTL-780 High-Power Engines
Cargo capacity: None, but has high strength tow cables to tow barges
Seats: Other than crew stations, 2 passenger seats, along with bunks, for a total of 10 crew: 2 officers, 4 engineers/support staff, and 4 able-bodied crew
ALL I ASK IS A TALL SHIP

Advice? For apps, get smaller images, no more than 500 pixels in either direction. Huge images are for OPs and GE&T and F&NI. I recommend Reverse Image Searching the images and finding smaller versions of them.

Otherwise,

Accepted.

[Backatri]

Advice? For apps, get smaller images, no more than 500 pixels in either direction. Huge images are for OPs and GE&T and F&NI. I recommend Reverse Image Searching the images and finding smaller versions of them.

Otherwise,
(Image)
Accepted.

thanks, friendo

[Esternial]

Updated my app with what barely passes for a bio.

If more is needed I can expand but I'd rather leave things in the dark than think up shit I'll regret later.

[Rupudska]

Updated my app with what barely passes for a bio.

If more is needed I can expand but I'd rather leave things in the dark than think up shit I'll regret later.

That's fine.

[Rupudska]

Planet Name: Freyr, referred to by the Cipaqoaltans as 'Tlaocc'
Atmosphere: 46% nitrogen, 35% oxygen, 11% neon, 6% helium, 2% water vapor. Notably denser than Earth's which compounds the effect of greenhouse gases, which is actually necessary for the survival of Freyr because it gets barely a fourth as much light as Earth.
Size and Mass: Roughly 4 times that of Earth, putting it at roughly 2.39*10²⁵ kg
Axial Tilt: 40 degrees, dead-on. Severe, but not the most severe habitable world to humans.
Orbital distance: 1.1 to 1.35 AU
Star Type: M-class red dwarf
Year length: 2.6 Standard years
Day: 14 hours - Freyr has a moon, and a fairly large one, but it's so distant and Freyr is so much bigger it can't slow it down much.
Gravity: 1.4 G - Gravity doesn't increase near as fast so long as the physical makeup of a world is the same, and Freyr actually has less heavy elements, but more radioactive ones in the core.
Rings/Moons: Two sets of rings, the remnants of a shattered icy moon both. Four of the moons are captured asteroids and unnamed, the other two - Huginn and Muninn - are each the size of Ganymede and suffer from far too extreme greenhouse effects to be hospitable. They orbit on opposite sides, which puts tremendous tectonic stress on Freyr.
Geography and Climate: Freyr is what some would consider a 'paradise world' of the tropical island life. Its fast rotation speed, dense, greenhouse atmosphere, and being 87.4% covered in ocean lends that description to it, as do the massive rainforests and stormforests that cover most of the landmasses - the rest are mostly tropical savannahs and, far to the north, temperate and pine forests and bare strips of tundra. The bulk of landmass (over 60%) is taken up by Blaland, a wide, banana-shaped continent in the southern hemisphere, which also features the planet's only desert.
Culture and History: First contact with Freyr was done by complete accident - it was assumed by the Cyanian Empire that they would be able to wait several decades before the sloth-like (but definitely not slothful) intelligent species would develop FTL drives. However, Freyr is somewhat near Cipaqoaltus space, and the cruiser HMS Duke of Triton was detected by a native space probe after damage sustained in battle caused their rear turret to explode, causing it to automatically send out a distress signal. The Native Freyans were, once the situation was cleared up, more than welcoming to the Cyanians, and joined the Empire as a small federated republic.

Freyr is largely a peaceful planet which, while rich in natural resources, proves difficult to mine due to the depths said resources are submerged under and because the local plant and invertebrate life can prove... hostile. The planet, much like Earth, was once a fractured mess of nations squabbling over islands and fishing territory until being united shortly after a global war under V'zini the Inconceivable. They as a whole are curious and ardent environmentalists (which has rubbed off on the immigrants from other Cyanian worlds, most notably humans), and most Imperial tech relating to environmental protection, repair, and terraforming has been either designed or constructed on Freyr since its admittance.

It has seen its fair share of hardships, though - the asteroid belt of the Freyr system is particularly rich in metals useful for building warships, and the system itself is close to the Cipaqoaltus border. There have been attacks, but the reptilians have never held Freyr itself.
BIG OL' BALL (DO NO REMOVE)

[Gerdon Laughis]

I am really excited for this! I think we have a good cast here!

[Cylarn]

Rup, how's Ben Thayer looking right now?

[Rupudska]

Rup, how's Ben Thayer looking right now?

Good so far, yeah. Accepted, pending completion of the bio, but if the IC goes up before you finish it'll be fine.

[Rupudska]

My app's done, Esty you're accepted, I'll start on the IC later today.

[Backatri]

My app's done, Esty you're accepted, I'll start on the IC later today.

Once the IC's up, can we still post worldbuilding stuff?