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[Tiruin]

It's more that I'm an idiot, and that I didn't notice the abbreviation.
I'm tempted to swap Gunner out with Seafaring Scholar, but I want that synergy with my item.
Also, there's supposedly only fiveish more hours left for sheets, judging from the fact that Gig said there were only 24 hours left 20 hours ago.

You can note that 'custom skills' also mean custom names ;3
I just wrote 'seafaring scholar' because that was my best idea on how the synergy (and lesser than +2-ness) came about to my character :O
So I think if it's a skill interacting with an item to give a bonus, maybe tell how that works or PM Gig
(You can be a Gunner along with any other +1 in the context of ALL +2 skills). Do note that even if we do have a specialized Navigator//Pilot, IMO we can't operate on one person alone (This means that even unproficient [+0 stat] people can handle it)

[GiglameshDespair]

Choices are being made and OP will soon be up.
Brace thyselves.

[GiglameshDespair]

Ok, damn. This is harder to choose that I thought it would be.

Spoiler: Name: Fiori Suntouched (click to show/hide)

Gender: Female
Race: Elf
HP: 10

Skills: Fighter, Double Weapon

Starting gear:
Heavy Askrima [Longsword] (3p)
Parrying Askrima [Shortsword] (2p)
Ironleaf Armor [Chainmail]: (4p)
Dagger: (1p)

Your special item:
Space Drakeling (Cormyr) ~ Fiori is hardly seen without her small pet Dragonlet perched on her shoulder-it's resemblance to it's larger cousins is quite unnerving-with the top half of it's body starkly white, and the bottom half pitch black respectively (a unique coloration adapted by Space Dragons who hunt the inner worlds and frequently fight gravity wells in search of prey-the dark serving by reflecting the furious heat away their bellies during orbital entry, and the light helping to cool their bodies when traveling the void), and scintillant, nearly transparent heart-golden wings (often stretched to catch stray solar rays, which can allow them to survive for usually very long periods they must go without solid food)...unlike them however, Cormyr-A name meaning 'royalty' in old Elven tongue-is about the size of a housecat (assuming those exist anymore). While her pet can be ferocious in defense of his mistress, she more often uses it as a scout and lookout-Cormyr is quite intelligent, and is well adapted for traveling the void-his senses are very sharp, capable of picking out even minute traces of mana, heat, and light flaring in all the darkness and cold. As far as friends go, Fiori's had much worse, and few better or as loyal-thought he can be temperamental at times and has a habit of hoarding small, semi-precious objects...

Description: Fairly striking at first glance, Fiori seems shorter than the average an Elf, with tucked in, shortly pointed ears, and subtle levender hued eyes-a narrow, delicate, nose over a small, tightlipped mouth-so much she could pass for a human when not under serious scrutiny. Her features are more than passing fair, and refined, but her physique is undeniably honed to a warriors edge, and she has chipped away at the soft, pleasing edges she might once had-Fiori was born to wear steel, rather than silk, as the old saying goes-and her body is lean, muscled, and well balanced. Her short, spiky, dark red hair is tied in an intricate warriors braid that barely touches the back of her neck-no great care taken in the this, merely brutal practicality, to deny her enemy a handhold in a fight-to allow her to cut it off with her belt dagger in one deft motion, perhaps-intersecting geometric loops of great practical design, but no true style. Picture a woman who would probably be considered beautiful in a certain light, wearing certain clothes, posed in a certain way-but the very act seems inimical to her being. You cannot look at this woman-her close set lips (with just the slighest hint of bared teeth when you meet her eyes) and the defiant, arrogant tilt of her body-and imagine you could 'pose' her, anymore than you could chain a Space Dragon and expect it not to rage against it's chains until it freed itself...or, died in the attempt. And you would be right, if you were perceptive enough to glean this-Fiori is best described as two parts strict, regimented discipline and one part pure, empty eyed rage-with a truly melancholy heart, and a pinch caustic wit thrown into the mix.

Backstory: Fiori Suntouched knew she was doomed from an early age-it was just that sort of thing. The Elders frowned and shook their heads, muttering and stroking their chins. They poured ritual waters over her head (her wet hair, dark like blood) under the dying trees of the Tanglewood, chanting half-remembered prayers to Dead Gods-waters rich with pure mana liberated from the Scatterfolken...no change. A week meditating in the stilled heart of the Earth Goddess without food or water-a sobering experience. Nothing. She imbibed a small, precious decanter of Dwarfblood-though the taste wasn't too bad, it didn't do very much for her. They laid her in the shadow of a Star Dragon's passing comet-nest and hoped he would bless her, as the old ways said they still did from time to time-she just managed to avoid being swallowed whole. Which might have been their intention. From an early age, Fiori Suntouched was just bad luck, a curse-a pesky stone in a shoe that they would have shaken free of, if they could.

It didn't matter how liberally she tossed herself into the raids, or how many warriors she felled, or how many sacrifices she captured with her special weapons-lightning fast combat sticks sometimes called 'Askrima' in Elf-tongue-ideal for getting in close and breaking bones, living the victim broken, but alive. The truth was, she had almost no talent for true magic-not even the rudiments. In a society where mana was so precious-life itself-to use it on someone with only fumbling skill was something of an abomination. She found herself at the bottom of a caste system with no hope for ever raising her fortunes...no hope at all, really. Her best result was an honorable death in battle, a deluge of hedonism culminating in one oblivion or another, or brokering herself even further down the ladder-there was always room for another girl at the Bleaken House, after all...

Fiori eventually decided if she was going to die, it would be on her own terms. Turning her back on her people was somewhat easier than she thought it would be, a relief of a secret grief that had been hanging over her, for her entire life...turning her back on her legion, those she had fought and bled withwith, was harder-many who had come to know and value her, even love her, despite those faults-but, she did it anyway. In the end, she consoled herself with the simple fact...it was part of the Way-the Way things had always been. She was a burden, there was no doubt. Sooner or later the mana stores would go dry, as they always did-and, they would have to choose who lived and died. Fiori would rather seek her fortune and fate in the void, than force them to kill her-even by inaction. This was the Way. This was how the Elves had survived. When the lean times come...and these times had grown exceedingly lean even in the best of them, indeed.

Was it really a mercy for them, or her? It's not easy to say which, not even for her.

Duty. Honor. Sacrifice. Words to live by. She carried them with her, and didn't dare look back...had to keep both eyes on the road ahead. She found a world that was not as harsh or alien as she had imagined. Perhaps even someplace she called home. Fiori just hoped no one ever remembered that raider in the skull-white, half moon mask. Wielding two blood soaked fighting sticks with terrible focus and furious intensity-as if trying to outrun a pursuing foe only she could see, even if she had to beat down an army in her way to do so.

In.

No contest, really. There certainly do seem to be a lot of female elves applying... maybe the captain had a type?

Spoiler: Tokoda Moonfist (click to show/hide)

Name: Tokoda Moonfist
Gender: Female
Race: Dwarf
HP: 14
Skills: Skilled Pilot, Gunner.       
Starting Gear:
Longsword: 1d8, one hand: 3p
Light shield: +2AC, one hand: 3p
Chainmail: +1AC, +1DR: 4p
Special Item: The Fist of a Moon - A classic of the practicality of dwarven engineering. It is a big gun that shoots big shells with the intent to hole a vessel with a single shot, venting the entire atmosphere. The weapon was designed by her family, hence the name. She had it specially shipped out.
Description: Tokoda has the build of a woman who, for most of her adult life, scraped by on Ynidus by desperate mining; wiry muscles, smooth skin from the atmosphere, and an unnatural pale from living in perpetual night. However, it's clear that she's let that muscle mass go in recent years. She wears plain, undyed beige tunics and pantaloons, fading into her sunstarved olive skin.
Backstory: How did that one marine put it, Tokoda thought to herself as she raced down the corridors of the ship. The ship shuddered from another impact, jolting her memory. "War is months of boredom interrupted by moments of terror" Replace war with life on the Rings, and you'd describe Tokoda's situation perfectly. Cometships were slow affairs and needed little attention, which is why a hand of Nulom was left abandoned in the rec-room while the crew dashed for their stations. Towards the reef or away? Before she could even arrive at the bridge, she had to decide whether or not she should dive towards ring, hoping to find cover among the asteroids, or to spin off into The Ocean, looking to dodge away from whatever was attempting to break through the ice shields.
Her adrenaline addled mind on overdrive, her thoughts drift back to half a century ago, when she was a youngling, working in the strip mines of Ynidus. Back there, the most important decision she'd have to make was where to swing her pick. Always something to do, never anything to do, she thought snidely. Who am I kidding? Turning in my pick for a voidsuit was the best choice I've ever made. She allows herself a small smile, and puts on a small burst of speed. A decade of toil on ships for a shot a chance to sit in the pilot's' chair was a pretty good tradeoff, from the perspective of a dwarf.
Some decent card games out here, too, she mused. For most, life on the moons was an tedious struggle to survive the harsh conditions and frequent raids. Pastimes developed that appealed to the time rich and cash poor of the Rings. Everyone and their mother had a deck of cards, and they've all played every variation of the standard games. Strange amalgamations cropped up and spread in popularity, eventually replacing their predecessors. A popular game was Nulom, a crossover of Old Maid and Poker about accusations and bluffing. It had made her rich and poor in equal measure. Thinking back to her hand, she let her smile grow a little more. They'll never know what hit them.
She slid into the pilot's chair, and gripped the controls before taking a dive into the thick of the asteroid belt.

Her gamble didn't pay off. They were holed heavily and barely managed to avoid their pursuers through sheer luck. The ship crippled, most of the crew dead, including the captain, the remaining crew sold off the ship and cargo, and went their seperate ways. Tokoda joined on with another crew, her current one. Tokoda was loyal to the captain. They meshed well and treated her with respect. Hell, she would be loyal to anyone who let her fly them anywhere twice, what with her penchant for risky, dangerous stunts. She feels irrationally responsible for what happened, despite the fact that she couldn't have done anything to save them. It's an old-fashioned case of survivor's guilt. On her metaphorical shoulders, she feels the burden of keeping the crew together and avenging the loss of their captain.

A ship can always use a good pilot, and you've got a good backstory. Shows a nice bit of character flavour, too.
In.

Updated things. May continue to work on it.

Spoiler: Gert Firebrand (click to show/hide)

Name: Gert Firebrand
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
HP: 14

Skills:
- Navigator
- Demonfriend

Starting gear:
- Long Sword
- Light crossbow
- 10 bolts
- Medical kit

Your special item:
Ancient Toolkit: An interesting keepsake Gert inherited from his ancestors, this set of ancient yet still useful equipment provides bonuses to repairing ship parts. It appears to have a greater affect on magical components.
 
Description:
Gert is a generally amicable and likable person, but likes working with machinery so much that when he is working he doesn't really have much time to talk to real people, without being totally distracted. He has a long, brown beard, and wears overalls and other tough clothing in his line of work. He does make time to talk to demons, though, finding them fascinating. If he's got nothing else to do, he will talk to people, but he fumbles often in social situations. He seems at least competent at using weapons, but swings them a tad too freely, a testament to his mining days.

Backstory:
Gert grew up on one of the huge walking cities on the surface of Ynidus, brought up by his miner father and a mother who had associations with the supernatural. He, as a child, often watched her mother working with the demons and spirits, and his mother, enthusiastic to have a eager and willing learner (for once), taught him the ropes of talking to demons with gusto. He always had a fondness for those creatures of the other world, so free in comparison to him. His father managed to somehow not get eaten by any wyrms in his line of work, surviving to the pensioning age before dying (too early, they say) of multiple stresses.

Gert Firebrand used to work in the mines in Ynidus, but was always fascinated with machinery more then the treasures that could be found beneath the surface of Ynidus, especially after a wyrm attack that took most of the people he knew to the next life. He decisively stopped working in the mining business and decided that any job would be better than what he had then. He caught the next ship off the planet and spent some time trying to find a job that would put him nowhere near the mines of Ynidus, which he now considered a haunted place. His mother bid him a tearful farewell, and passed on some last scraps of information about talking to demons before he left.

Looking for his place among the worlds, Gert took a spot upon this ship, partially because he was curious, and partially so he could have a stable(ish?) job. Perhaps he would see what it was like to be a demon.

I like it. Useful.
In.

Spoiler: not enough tree-huggers, i say (click to show/hide)

Name: Callisto Galilei
Gender: Male
Race: Elf
HP: 10

Sneak
Infiltrator - +2 to picking locks, getting past doors, and other such acts of breaking and entering.

Starting Gear:
Serrated dagger(Shortsword equivalent) : 1d6, one hand: 2p
Light crossbow: 2d4, two handed, reloads: 2p
10 bolts: 2p
Leathers: +2AC: 4p

Your special item:
Zephyr Bracelet: A technological marvel, this "watch" has the ability to almost instantly copy a 3D image of an item, and create a static illusion of that item that Callisto could hide inside, although any sort of electrical or magical interference could make that illusion disappear easily. This prize was stolen by Callisto during his first and last raid, and is responsible for jumpstarting his career in thievery. "Zephyr Bracelet" probably isn't actually what it's called, but it's a cool name nonetheless.
 
Description: Callisto is tall for an elf, with a thin and lithe build. He has dull blond hair, which is somehow still well maintained. Otherwise, nothing truly stands out at all - one could forget his face easily in a crowd; a useful trait to have in the profession of his. Personality-wise,  he is rough, determined and a bit of an ass; he'd be right at home with alcoholics and brutes. One would be pretty hard-pressed to love Callisto Galilei, especially if one were an elf.

Backstory: Ever since Callisto was young, he wanted the Tanglewood to be more magnificent. Not out of any desire to help his world, however - Callisto merely wised to be surrounded by splendor. He has heard of the scorched, walking cities of Ynidus, the divergent nations of the Scatter, and yet those places might as well be paradise compared to the Tanglewood. So, when he became of age, Callisto knew he needed to be in a raid, which he was accepted into due to his deftness with a blade. During the raid, he looted whatever he could even during the midst of battle, which is how he got his hands on his little bracelet.

To his brothers, Callisto Galilei died in his first raid. To Callisto Galilei, that was when he began to live. With a hidden talent for pickpocketing, infiltrating, and general thievery coupled with an eye for opportunity and a larger one for valuables, Callisto calls himself a master thief - maybe even one that could steal a piece of the Goddess?

A rather rogueish character.
Infiltrator is fine.
Your zephyr bracelet will be sharply limited in the size of the illusion - a small crate, sort of thing, but large enough to hide in - and it's dispelled upon touch by anyone other than you.
Still, nice. In.


You four are in. I'm still picking the last few.

[GiglameshDespair]

o_o
Gigla made a game!

Spoiler: Vaye Alarai (click to show/hide)

Gender: Female
Race: Elf
HP: 10

Skills:
Double Weapon
Seafaring-Scholar

Weapons:
Hand crossbow: 3p [Unique Item]
Dagger: 1p
10 bolts: 2p

Armor:
Chainmail: 4p


Your special item:
Self-Loading Handcrossbow: Crafted from elven feywood, and modified over the years as a gentleman's weapon--this crossbow has been in Vaye's ownership since she was young, serving both as a tool for hunting and utilitarian purposes. The stock is etched with a dragon-styled pattern engraved in the wood, and there seems to be a peculiar mechanism within the design if one looks closely where its name is derived from. While stylish in appearance, it is able to be modified for future use and shows signs of both age and being well-cared of.
 
Description:
Vaye is a young woman of typical height and limber build from the elves of the Losanii colonies. She has raven-colored hair, naturally falling to shoulder length, with the back being braided in a fishtail pattern, and a light brown complexion. Her face is oval in structure, with round eyes and a slightly pointed nose.

Vaye has a kindly personality, one of a quiet and sagacious nature. She is slow-if ever-to anger, and is a perfectionist; she is usually anxious in tense situations and has a well-developed fear of failure. She has a strong willpower, not weak against pressure, leading to her love about deeply thinking about difficult things, and has a life goal of improving the lives of those around her and in generations to come.

Backstory:
Vaye yearned to be a writer one day: A scholar who would record history and the present both in a neutral gaze, presented in a fashion that would blossom thought and inspire those who dove into her words and imagery. That was her goal while growing up on the heavens of Losanii, all the while helping her family progress in the harsh environment of the shifting moons. Her brother was a hunter, and she learned most of her values from him--along with receiving a childhood gift as an all-around tool for personal use--as both were parentless, with their family being the community around them. With the fear of being misunderstood told in the stories around her, as well as within personal experiences abound in her youth, Vaye developed an independent attitude early in life along with her brother in facing its challenges, having renounced any ideal of a caste system since two years after they could read and write.

Taught in the ways of philosophy and martial artistry, Vaye grew up in a different path than her brother despite both being connected like soulmates; distance and the calling of education created a tangible barrier between the two (though communication was as if they weren't separated in the rare times they could hear each others' voices or read each one's writing), in which followed a mutual oath when they both reached the age of adulthood--to leave where they were in a better state than when they arrived. Deciding to make the best of her life that she could, Vaye decided to join up on one of the few trade caravans crossing the stars into the port of The Scatter. She was anxious among strangers, and an even stranger culture than she was accustomed (and thought to be familiar) to. In the days that followed, she found herself in the company of others following the same thought--if not the same path--to make a ship of their own and plot their own course in life.

It's a good sheet. I know you've had connection problems in the past, so you'll have to able to post regularly, or you'll accidentally take a long walk off a short plank. In

If this goes well, me and DigitalDemon can team up to scam people with Raelyn's and Richard's DOUBLECHARISMA and we will sell demonskin sweat oil as miracle medicine and become filthy rich, muahahaha.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Richard Bartholomew Puddington of Largeham City
Gender: (Gentle)man
Race: Human
HP: 10

Skills: Doctor, Charismatic

Starting Gear: Light crossbow + 10 bolts + Basic medkit + Antidote + Bandages (2 + 2 + 3 + 2 + 1 = all 10 spent)

Your Special Item:
Puddington's Teacup: An exceptional artifact of porcelain and brass, Puddington's Teacup enhances the quality and taste of any tea that ends filling up its majestic innards.

Description:
An eccentric man in his mid-thirties, Richard Bartholomew Puddington is a medium-sized, averagely-sculpted male with impeccable dress, almost always wearing black pants and white shirt and a black bowler hat. His ashen moustache is well-groomed and his ashen hair is short and kept slick. Not a hair does adorn his chin, however, a fact that always hangs heavy on poor Richard's heart. Whenever he is reading a book or a scroll, his attire is enhanced by a pair of reading glasses; oval lenses set in black bronze frame.

Backstory:
Little is known of Richard Bartholomew Puddington's early life as there is definitely no place called Largeham, least it having any sort of nobility or reputable house. T'was just a flight of fancy that Richard took on this elaborate name, as it did help his trade - after he failed a medical school of some renown, he had to resort to making medicine, less or more efficient, to go with his life. Said elaborate 'family name' just puts a certain degree of respect to the man, and to his strange and mysterious and enigmatic tinctures and tonics and brews (which often are distilled and spiced fruit juices (of which mango juice is Richard's favorite)). His years at the medical school did leave him a skilled doctor, as Richard Bartholomew Puddington is not a stupid man - nay, only a person as smart as him could attain such a skill at medicine AND profit off the fake products with such ease!

Certainly, it's useful to have a doctor, and your character is interesting enough. Let's see how well Doctor Richard does among the void. In

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Granite Ironblood
Gender: Male
Race: Dwarf
HP: 14

Skills: Brute, Brawler

Starting gear:
Heavy Plate [-2AC, +5DR: 6p]
2x Bandages [Heals 1HP. Cannot stack for the same wound. 1 use.]

Your special item:
Pair of Masterwork Adamantine Knuckles - These were supposedly made by a very distant relative of Granite's back when all the races lived on a single world, before the races learned to sail through the Ether, and supposedly they had been forged specifically for use on demons though if that was true it's long since lost any power it may have had. They're worn down and marked from the countless times they have been used, but they still hold a certain rugged charm that makes one wonder at what craftsman could have made it. [2 Points]
 
Description: Granite Ironblood is of average height for dwarves with a sturdy physique born from years of mining, and quite a few bar fights though those are of much lesser note than his former life as a miner. He is bald with a neatly trimmed grey beard obscuring the lower half of a face that's been busted up a few too many times.

Backstory: Granite was born the son of a miner and a somewhat wealthy merchant's daughter who promptly abandoned his care solely to his father before leaving their lives entirely due to what she claimed was a 'mistake made in the haziness of drink'. From there he spent his time being watched over by the wives of other miners who were more than willing to help out their husbands' friend with only a few times throughout the year when he'd get to actually meet with his father who would always spend some of his meager remaining wages to buy him a gift. Though meetings with his father were rare, Granite still gained from them a dedication to hard work and a desire to make his place in life better so that his children wouldn't have to endure the same lifestyle him and his father had. Of course when he grew old enough to work his father helped him get a job with the mining crew he ran with, and gifted him the family heirloom, a pair of battered adamantine knuckles that had been in the family for centuries he said. Now, after mining for so long he hopes to set out into the Ether in search of wealth.

You were one of the main reasons why this game really exists, so I suppose you are In


To be honest, I would have liked to have more players, but I think then it'd be completely unmanageable.

Those not picked are, of course, on the waitlist if they so desire, to gain a place should someone die or drop out.

[spümpkin]

Well, I didn't expect to get in with this much competition anyway, but Im still a bit sad. But hey, I'll see how this all goes, and hopefully somebody dies. Soon .

[Haspen]

Shhh, don't you jinx us :V

[spümpkin]

You shall all be jinxed!

[GiglameshDespair]

Well, I didn't expect to get in with this much competition anyway, but Im still a bit sad. But hey, I'll see how this all goes, and hopefully somebody dies. Soon .

<.<

>.>

_{Hand me a £20 on the quiet and one of them can have an... accident. Capiche?}

[spümpkin]

Well, I didn't expect to get in with this much competition anyway, but Im still a bit sad. But hey, I'll see how this all goes, and hopefully somebody dies. Soon .

<.<

>.>

_{Hand me a £20 on the quiet and one of them can have an... accident. Capiche?}

*Hands £300 and a space-dragon to make the job easier*

Get it done

[My Name is Immaterial]

Shit, am I going to start having to pay protection fees?
Thanks Gig! Looking forward to playing!
(inb4 'IC when?')


...


...


IC when?

[Pencil_Art]

Just a head's up, I'll be away for most of the weekend. Sorry if this is an inconvenience.

[Dwarmin]

Just a head's up, I'll be away for most of the weekend. Sorry if this is an inconvenience.

It's no problem man!

Here we'll just stow you in this nifty space closet until you come back...the best part is, there's a secret way out...

*leads to airlock*

[Pencil_Art]

*Steps into airlock, drums fingers on wall*

Are you sure?

[GiglameshDespair]

Shit, am I going to start having to pay protection fees?
Thanks Gig! Looking forward to playing!
(inb4 'IC when?')


...


...


IC when?

Saturday was the original plan, but...

Just a head's up, I'll be away for most of the weekend. Sorry if this is an inconvenience.

It's certainly not ideal. Will you be able to get posts in occasionally?

[Twinwolf]

Wasn't expecting to get in anyway since you never acknowledged my sheet or my requests to check if it was alright, so I'm fine with the waitlist.