Post by caboose on Jul 16, 2009 19:08:38 GMT -5
OOC Name: The Great Caboose! Or just Mr. Caboose. Or, if you really want to get under my skin, Cabby.
Years RP'ing: Three years.
Yo mama jokes: [admin edit]
Character name: Jor'nar Septim
Character Age: 34
Character Gender: Male
Race: Andorian/Aenar Hybrid
Rank (if applicable): Captain
Ship: Lewis
Division: Command
Brief Description: Born and raised on Andoria, Jor'nar was not often looked on with respect. Being a hybrid between two closely related species, while advantageous, was not easy. He was held back because of his mis-matched parents, however, this led to Jor'nar becoming a 'workaholic.' He strove to prove Andorian preconceptions about him wrong, firstly by enlisting in the Andorian military, and then being transferred quickly to the Imperial Guard.
A great honor, and it surprised his previous superiors.
Jor'nar did not last long in the Imperial Guard, however. The brass made sure that he could not advance. Jor'nar, in no way a fool, recognized this, and resigned his commission. The disapproval of his people appearing unchangeable, he signed on with Starfleet. His new superiors did not look at his race as much as his statistics and ratings (Blah, I can conceive no better way of saying that). This led to his officer commission, and after four years, his own starship. While the Lewis is not the most advanced starship, nor is she the most powerful, she is considered one of the most prestigious.
With that, the vessel was sent on her continuing mission under Jor'nar, to explore strange new worlds. To seek out new life forms and new civilizations. To boldly go where no-one has gone before.
Sample post (may be recycled):
((While I had a sample rp written, Firefox crashed, so I am using this post of mine from Heroes: The RPG.))
To survive in this world, we hold close to us those people on whom we depend. What happens when trust is lost? We dream of hope, we dream of change. Of fire, of love, of death. But we are still human, and we will never be what we dream. We tell ourselves that we are, but in the end all we have left is that dream, and that dream in unreachable.
”Hath Not The Potter Power Over The Clay…”[/center]
Mohinder awoke from a fitful sleep to a dreary morning. Rain poured over the windows, and clouds blocked out the sun. The people of New York City would be waking up, brewing coffee, showering, and preparing for their days. Only that day would be different. That day, would be unlike any other. That day would be forever remembered by the Earth.
That day, Mohinder was going to release the virus.
Mohinder rose from his bed, and quickly put on a hooded sweatshirt. He hadn’t had time for much sleep recently, and by the time he was cutting back on sleep, he was out of other daily activities to cut back on. His hood pulled up, he leaped through the doorway into the apartment.
Books, vials, papers and laboratory equipment were scattered all about the room. A map hung on a wall, with many strings reaching from all over the room where other maps hung. Mohinder’s leap carried him far from the bedroom, his feet landing without a sound nearly twenty feet from his point of origin. There, resting on the table, was the virus.
It was the day he would let it out.
Mohinder hadn’t quite the right words for the occasion. He was slow to lift it from its place amongst the other vials. Slower still was he, to bring it to his face. Then, Mohinder spoke. “Hath not the potter power over the clay, to make one vessel unto honor, and another, unto dishonor?” His words were hoarse, his voice had not been used for years. He had no one to use it for. But even still, there was a quality to his voice, it sounded so… Sad. A tear fell from beyond the shadow of the hood, and hit the wooden floor.
Mohinder crept to the window, and opened it, his eyes still focused on the vial. His hands grasped the lock on the window, and gently pushed it aside. Mohinder pushed open the window, and held the vial out. The feel of the raindrops hitting his scaly skin was like light kisses, but he did not care to feel them. He watched the vial, his hand trembling. “I am become death, destroyer of worlds.” The famous words from the Hindu holy book, quoted when the first atomic bomb was set off. How that would have been preferable to the vial, only Mohinder would know.
With that, Mohinder’s hand released.
A cry escaped his lips.
The vial fell toward the peoples of New York City, but at that time, only the Indian geneticist knew that he had sealed humanity’s fate.
Death to all, by the Shanti-Virus.
And it was a mercy killing.
What has humanity come to, when a man cannot trust his own kin? When humanity’s dreams are forgotten in the storm of time? Are we still people? When we have harnessed the power of gods, yet we do not use it to help our fellow man, are we even human anymore? We are but the shallow remains of who we once were. Of what we once dreamed, nothing but hollow husks now remain, lost on an empty world in the vastness of time.
Years RP'ing: Three years.
Yo mama jokes: [admin edit]
Character name: Jor'nar Septim
Character Age: 34
Character Gender: Male
Race: Andorian/Aenar Hybrid
Rank (if applicable): Captain
Ship: Lewis
Division: Command
Brief Description: Born and raised on Andoria, Jor'nar was not often looked on with respect. Being a hybrid between two closely related species, while advantageous, was not easy. He was held back because of his mis-matched parents, however, this led to Jor'nar becoming a 'workaholic.' He strove to prove Andorian preconceptions about him wrong, firstly by enlisting in the Andorian military, and then being transferred quickly to the Imperial Guard.
A great honor, and it surprised his previous superiors.
Jor'nar did not last long in the Imperial Guard, however. The brass made sure that he could not advance. Jor'nar, in no way a fool, recognized this, and resigned his commission. The disapproval of his people appearing unchangeable, he signed on with Starfleet. His new superiors did not look at his race as much as his statistics and ratings (Blah, I can conceive no better way of saying that). This led to his officer commission, and after four years, his own starship. While the Lewis is not the most advanced starship, nor is she the most powerful, she is considered one of the most prestigious.
With that, the vessel was sent on her continuing mission under Jor'nar, to explore strange new worlds. To seek out new life forms and new civilizations. To boldly go where no-one has gone before.
Sample post (may be recycled):
((While I had a sample rp written, Firefox crashed, so I am using this post of mine from Heroes: The RPG.))
To survive in this world, we hold close to us those people on whom we depend. What happens when trust is lost? We dream of hope, we dream of change. Of fire, of love, of death. But we are still human, and we will never be what we dream. We tell ourselves that we are, but in the end all we have left is that dream, and that dream in unreachable.
Chapter 42
”Hath Not The Potter Power Over The Clay…”[/center]
Mohinder awoke from a fitful sleep to a dreary morning. Rain poured over the windows, and clouds blocked out the sun. The people of New York City would be waking up, brewing coffee, showering, and preparing for their days. Only that day would be different. That day, would be unlike any other. That day would be forever remembered by the Earth.
That day, Mohinder was going to release the virus.
Mohinder rose from his bed, and quickly put on a hooded sweatshirt. He hadn’t had time for much sleep recently, and by the time he was cutting back on sleep, he was out of other daily activities to cut back on. His hood pulled up, he leaped through the doorway into the apartment.
Books, vials, papers and laboratory equipment were scattered all about the room. A map hung on a wall, with many strings reaching from all over the room where other maps hung. Mohinder’s leap carried him far from the bedroom, his feet landing without a sound nearly twenty feet from his point of origin. There, resting on the table, was the virus.
It was the day he would let it out.
Mohinder hadn’t quite the right words for the occasion. He was slow to lift it from its place amongst the other vials. Slower still was he, to bring it to his face. Then, Mohinder spoke. “Hath not the potter power over the clay, to make one vessel unto honor, and another, unto dishonor?” His words were hoarse, his voice had not been used for years. He had no one to use it for. But even still, there was a quality to his voice, it sounded so… Sad. A tear fell from beyond the shadow of the hood, and hit the wooden floor.
Mohinder crept to the window, and opened it, his eyes still focused on the vial. His hands grasped the lock on the window, and gently pushed it aside. Mohinder pushed open the window, and held the vial out. The feel of the raindrops hitting his scaly skin was like light kisses, but he did not care to feel them. He watched the vial, his hand trembling. “I am become death, destroyer of worlds.” The famous words from the Hindu holy book, quoted when the first atomic bomb was set off. How that would have been preferable to the vial, only Mohinder would know.
With that, Mohinder’s hand released.
A cry escaped his lips.
The vial fell toward the peoples of New York City, but at that time, only the Indian geneticist knew that he had sealed humanity’s fate.
Death to all, by the Shanti-Virus.
And it was a mercy killing.
What has humanity come to, when a man cannot trust his own kin? When humanity’s dreams are forgotten in the storm of time? Are we still people? When we have harnessed the power of gods, yet we do not use it to help our fellow man, are we even human anymore? We are but the shallow remains of who we once were. Of what we once dreamed, nothing but hollow husks now remain, lost on an empty world in the vastness of time.
