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RPG: FTL


Alex Humva

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IC:

It had taken Ace marginally longer to arrive at the mess hall than he anticipated. Then again, slipping in slug goo would tend to make your progress a bit slower. He quietly grunted in disappointment about how they never clean up after themselves.

He arrived in the mess hall, and looked around to see whether there was still some food available. There was, thankfully. He quietly made his way to the food station, carefully avoiding any and all eye contact with the Mantis in the room. And, once his plate was loaded, he looked for some place to sit.

Preferably away from the Mantis.

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Steam name: Ehksidian

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IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

"Hmm." The Colonel glanced at the door. "Our Rockman joins us." She tapped on the table with her mechanical finger, allowing the door to slide open. "What's on your mind, Mr. Ovechkin?"

 

IC: The Rockman entered the cabin, ducking his head underneath the doorway.

 

"One of the Slugs in the cafeteria will not let me change the channel in the mess hall. I tried to convince him to let me use the remote, but he did not budge. I did not believe that bludgeoning him was a suitable course of action, so I wish to ask for your intervention."

 

OOC: My first in-character interaction back, and it's about TV. It's good to be back.

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IC: Estelle

 

She shot Can exaggerated eye roll before ruffling her hair, as she did when she was nerved by something. "My god, you are soo hilarious, Can." She said sarcastically before laughing a bit.

 

"But," she said, looking at her subordinate, "I think I will join you. And if Major Daniels would like to join us," she said as she looked at him, "he can."

Edited by Rawrmouse
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IC:

"No. I can. He Daniels." Can said, pulling up one of his favorite memorized jokes and speaking in a mock caveman voice.

That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.

-Rover

 

"A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat."

"The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely."

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IC Vincent

"... That was actually pretty funny," Vincent muttered to himself concerning Can's joke. Normally, he would have been gone by now, but the fish (at least that's what he thought it was) was tracking a long time to go down, and he didn't want to be yelled at again for wasting food. So, he resigned himself to slowly chewing on the fish and listened to the conversation.

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IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

"We didn't get any good saves anyways before we left broadcasting range." The Colonel wondered about the Lieutenant's departure; woman seemed to have something on her mind. "I'll see what I can do, though. As soon as our pilot gets out of her recovery session in sickbay, I'll be calling the crew to a meeting in the hanger. Discuss etiquette, make sure everyone knows where to sleep, such things."

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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IC:

After examining the room for a good thirty seconds, Ace found a completely empty table to sit at. It was close to where a relatively large group was gathering, but far enough away from the Mantis that he didn't mind.

He sat his tray down, and began to eat the mystery meat in front of him.

OOC: open for interaction.

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Steam name: Ehksidian

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IC (Devas)


The majority of the crew would be in the mess, if Devas was any judge. Meaning he still had some precious time to himself before the daily drudgery of the day pulled him out of the engine room and into the far less comforting corridors of the vessel proper. Slowly, he pulled the red jewel at the center of his necklace outwards, until it was centered in his line of sight. At the very least, he knew he’d never forget the color of his husbands eyes, no matter how much his memory dimmed. That was about the only comfort left him outside of revenge really. He needed it right now, he knew they’d allowed Mantis on this ship. Mantis, of all the xenos of the universe, those genocidal, semi-sentient, atrocity machines were by far the worst, with the slime-buckets being a close second.

Edited by Basilisk

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC:

 

"Hm." William commented to himself, coffee mug in one hand, the tray long since ditched by the mess hall entrance. Sighing quietly to himself, he sat down at the same table that Estelle had joined, setting his mug in front of him.

 

"Good day, ladies and gentlemen."

Edited by Simon the Digger

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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC:

 

Can nodded at the newcomer. "Well, this looks like it's the popular kids' table. If a food fight occurs I expect us to win." Can said; he was doing it deliberately now, having realized that his usual stern demeanor would not fly with this ragtag bunch of misfits.

That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.

-Rover

 

"A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat."

"The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely."

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IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

"I don't know, the doctor was... not specific as to how long the pilot would be in there. Something about not rushing technology."

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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IC: J. Taylor

 

Taylor chuckled a bit at his bosses' joke. For the most part, Taylor had just been sitting there eating this whole time, paying the events around him only half-attention, while at the same time being sure that he didn't miss anything in the conversation that might prove to be important someday.

 

Taylor's mind was mostly preoccupied by thoughts of what he liked to do most--his work.

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IC:

"Hm." William commented to himself, coffee mug in one hand, the tray long since ditched by the mess hall entrance. Sighing quietly to himself, he sat down at the same table that Estelle had joined, setting his mug in front of him.

"Good day, ladies and gentlemen."

IC Vincent

" Sir, good day to you as well, sir." Rather than the usual indifferent greeting, Vincent made sure to address this individual properly; he was the officer directly above his officer after all. Turning back to the table, he raised an eyebrow at the mention of a food fight. "Please don't," he muttered to himself in slight trepidation.

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IC -- Francis

"Yeah, didn't take long to figure these guys out. She's social, she's self-assured, he has the most lack-luster sense of humor, that guy really hates the mantis race, that guy is full of himself..." At the very least, Francis could appreciate Jess who appeared to be spending a significant amount of mental resources on something useful. "I'm done here. No way I'll have a problem picking these minds out of a crowd."

Francis got up from the table with word or expression and made his way for the exit, disposing of his tray along the way. He decided that the next best course of action was to acquaint himself with one or more of the mantes. A quick mental ping returned what he believed to be mantis neurological activity from the bunks. He took one last glance back at the table full of humans before slithering down the hall.


Takuma Nuva

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If The Good Lord had intended us to walk

He would not have invented roller skates.
-- Willy Wonka

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IC - Kelezaag:

 

When Francis located the Mantis, he would find her sitting on her bunk, forelegs folded in the very position the praying mantis had been famous for since time immemorial. Though her eyes were closed in meditation, she was made aware of the Slug's presence, by the low squishing sound he made as he slid along the floor. In front of her was a small emerald object. As he neared, Francis would see it was an idol of some Mantis god or other. When he came to a stop, Kelezaag opened one eye, and looked at him inquisitively. She made a clicking noise, which the device affixed to the side of her head translated as a "Yes?" The Slug only returned her inquisitive stare. His eyes flicked to the emerald god. "This," she explained, her wings and mouth filling the room with a pleasant buzz, "Is an idol of my clan's god of war, Kreiggeaz. I am paying my respects to it. Or, rather, I was paying my respects to it, a moment ago."

 

She stared at the Slug. This one was different from the one she had asked to pass the salt earlier, she was sure of that. At least, she was pretty sure. Slugs were rather easy to tell apart, by their myriad colors, but she wouldn't bet her life on it. "Say," she began again, "We're not so different, are we? I mean, one of us is rather... slimier, than the other... but at heart, we're two outcasts. We're in this human-dominated vessel, just me, some other Mantis I have yet to meet, you, two other Slugs, and a Rockman. Allow me to pose a question to you: What happens if the humans decide we're not worth keeping around?" She let the idea sink in, then drew a serrated arm across her throat and made a choking sound. "That's what. So, I have a proposal. Perhaps us 'aliens' should stick together? I believe one of those humans said, some centuries ago, something along the lines of 'We must all hang together, or we shall surely hang separately.'"

Avatar by Brickeens

 

 

 

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IC: Enter the Souper Saladd

Many of those of Souper's race didn't understand why xhe insisted on being called that. An old joke from Earth, xhe explained, and from then on, Soup, as they were called, ignored all questions relating to naming conventions. Why care at all when your name was unable to be pronounced out loud after all. However, his...hearing...issue was having problems again. The Kestral was far more crowded than xhe'd hoped, but now that they were away from the majority of the nearby settlements, Soup was again at ease. Sipping the water for what was going to be, ironically, a simple chicken substitute Chicken Soup, Chef Saladd had to make sure everything was right. No one was allowed to have food poisoning as a result of their cooking, after all.

 

Besides, there were more pressing things to worry about. Looking through the thin slit that showed them the mess hall, Souper wondered when someone would come to bother them to complain. They always did. What was xhe supposed to do when they didn't have that many fresh ingredients, go over the top and make ONE wonderful meal at the expense of everyone else on board? Sure, the food xhe'd sent the leader of the expedition had been a little off, but what was the slug chef supposed to do with subpar ingredients? If there was anything Soup was good at, it was at making the inedible edible, and it was his job to feed the large crew at meal time.

 

Wondering who would complain next or ask for something special, the slug chef waited. and Waited. And waited.

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IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

"I could pilot this ship if it was needed." The Colonel raised an eyebrow. "We're floating through space because I feel the crew needs to... Settle in, get to know each other, before we set off into unchartered space. Know who you can trust and who you can't. Last thing we need is a dysfunctional crew while slavers attack."

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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IC: Ashley Landes

 

Ashley waved goodbye as the slug left their table, he hadn't been very talkative, but at least he'd been friendly enough to sit with them. That was a good start, right?

 

She greeted the Major in turn, happy that she was meeting so many people so quickly. Things were going even better than she'd hoped.

 

"I haven't seen a food fight since I was in the eight grade....I'd rather keep it that way." She didn't have particularly good memories of the last food fight she'd encountered, far too messy.

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IC -- Francis

The crew certainly was making this easy. From the moment the mantis parted her mandibles she made a neural pattern scan all but pointless. "Seems it's only a matter of time before some kind of brawl breaks out with so many uncivilized barbarians on board. Still, this could potentially work to my advantage one day. All the better if that advantage involves currency."

In no hurry to make or break any individual alliances, Francis grunted, popped his lips, and left the way he came. That would have to satisfy the mantis for now.

"Perhaps what I need is to have an exchange with one of my own kind," Francis considered. He didn't wish to create the appearance that he only cared for his own kind, but these other species could be so mentally exhausting at times. Silently scolding himself for his lack of planned pathing, Francis made his way back down the hall toward the kitchen.


Takuma Nuva

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If The Good Lord had intended us to walk

He would not have invented roller skates.
-- Willy Wonka

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IC: "Fair enough. As long as you have brought it up though, getting to know the crew is another issue; I do not trust the Mantis crew, and still do not understand why we brought two of them with." Signi shifted uneasily, clearly unsure of how well his thoughts on the Mantis crew might be taken. "Respectfully, I am not sure how far this crew will get before one of them tries to kill another crew member. ...I also believe that one of the crew members is contaminating the plants in the mess hall with leftovers, though I do not know which."

Edited by Necro
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IC: J. Taylor

 

Jess Taylor finished his meal and made his departure from the crowded table; appropriately replying to any good byes that his leaving triggered.

 

Promptly, he dropped off his lunch tray, to make sure he didn't attract any unnecessary attention from Souper, and continued on his way out the door and down the hallway.

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IC - Kelezaag:

 

As soon as the Slug was gone, Kelezaag made a long, low buzzing noise, which the obnoxious thing on her head thought was worth translating as a sigh. She ripped the thing off and stored it away next to her datapad, irritated with herself for not having taken it off after lunch. The moment she got used to wearing it was the moment she got used to being around humans, and that was something she simply couldn't allow to happen. Having already spent far longer than she had meant to in meditation (which consisted of, essentially, doing the same plotting of how to survive her current situation that she did at all times, reflecting upon her race's culture and history, and sleeping, the last one taking up the largest portion), she decided to review in her mind every crewman aboard the Kestrel that she had yet seen.

 

First, was the Colonel, Ojeda. Kelezaag had heard little of her, and seen even less. She had stayed mostly in her cabin for the first leg of the voyage, and Kelezaag wasn't sure when that would change. She had to assume some level of competence in Ojeda, to be not only promoted to Colonel, but trusted with commandment of a confined space containing a bunch of colonials and a few representatives of the three most hated alien races in the universe.

 

Next, the Lieutenant. Chastain was her name. Kelezaag had only seen her once, as she rushed out of the Colonel's office, looking like she was about to throw up. Her first thought of the woman was that she must have had a weak constitution, but her well-toned muscles said otherwise. So what, Kelezaag wondered, had caused the Lieutenant to look so sick? Was it an allergy? Or, perhaps, it was simply food poisoning?

 

She had yet to meet the chef, but from what Kelezaag had heard, food poisoning was a distinct possibility. Especially from the chicken and fish. She hadn't minded the soup, though; in fact, it would have been pretty good with the right spices, but that was a bit of information she saw no reason to share with the rest of the crew.

 

Kelezaag had seen Major Daniels around a few times. Her only impression of the man so far was that he was extremely caffeine-dependent, a trait all too common amongst humans. Well, it was better than alcohol, anyway.

 

Major Walker was the Flight Commander, and judging by Kelezaag's past experiences with fighter pilots, likely had an unhealthy attachment to her fighter. In addition, she had heard the major had a pet on-board, which probably broke a few regulations. Besides that, her hair was... pink. She would never understand why humans did that. She had never had an urge to dye her exoskeleton. Then again, why would she? It was already the perfect shade. The only explanation Kelezaag could think of was that humans were just plain weird. That was her go-to, these days.

 

Captain Skinter had ducked under a table in the mess hall, and from the little she had overheard of his conversation with the others sitting there, it seemed to Kelezaag that he had... suggested a food fight? That she was unhappy with her immediate superior was an understatement, but she didn't get too worked up over it. She was certain she'd wake up any minute now.

 

Apparently, the pilot and doctor were in the medbay, the former having an injury that required medical attention. Well, in the eyes of the humans, anyway. Probably nothing major. Anyway, Kelezaag was interested in observing the two, but as the medbay was a place she hoped to avoid going to more than necessary, she decided it could wait.

 

Kelezaag had seen the Rock in the mess hall, arguing with a Slug about a TV remote. Surprisingly enough, the argument didn't result in a slimy smear left on the floor. The Rockman seemed rather strange to her, and didn't seem to like Mantis much. In addition, he seemed to have a fondness for human sports, and had said something about having visited Italy. On Earth. There was only one conclusion she could come to: The poor thing thought it was human.

 

Then there was the Slug she had just spoken with. Well, spoken at. He seemed like he might have been a dullard, or mentally challenged, judging from the fact that he didn't say one word, but Slugs (plus humans, Zoltan and Rockmen) always seemed like that to her.

 

Kelezaag sifted through her thoughts carefully, but she could only recall two other crewman that had made an impression on her. The first was the one that had stared at her while she was eating. She didn't know his name, but he seemed to have a particularly strong hatred for Mantis, even in a boat like this one. The other was one of those Vendarians. She hadn't seen the other one that was apparently on-board, but she was sure that he was pretty much the same as the one she had. This one had been pulled off of some fool that she had beat half-to-death with a lunch tray. Charming girl.

 

All in all, there were only 3 people Kelezaag considered a threat on the Kestrel. Of those, 2 were psychologically unstable Vendarians, and one was a Rock that just might be crushed by the simple revelation that he'd never go the way of Pinocchio and become a real boy. Of course, a mob was infinitely more dangerous than any individual, so eliminating these threats wasn't such a great idea. Especially considering the fact that she'd be killed for any murder on the ship, regardless of whether she was the culprit or not.

 

OOC: tl;dr - Kelezaag thinks about how much she hates everyone she's seen on the ship so far.

Edited by Burnmad: Toa of Emoticons
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IC:

Ace grunted again, which he then followed with a quick nod. He quietly chewed the mysterious meat-it might have been chicken-for some time, eventually swallowing it. He took another bite, but this time simply swallowed it without chewing.

He grunted, and stood up. Ace glanced at Rehn, and tilted his head almost like he wanted to be followed. He began walking out of the mess hall, and waited by the door for Rehn to catch up.

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Steam name: Ehksidian

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IC

 

All across the ship, a long, low, grinding sound could be heard. Going slowly down the hull, it passed over the ship, causing everyone to go silent as they listened to it. In her room, the Colonel immediately went to the window, trying to peer out to see what it was. Seeing nothing, she turned to the Rockman, her face making a grim expression. "We'll have to discuss this later." She turned to the wall-mounted intercomm, punching her thumb into it. "Attention all crew; we seem to have bumped up against something. We are now on level three alert, assume your stations." With that, the Colonel walked out, heading towards the bridge. On her private comm, pinned to her shirt, she contacted the Majors. "Major Daniels, join me on the bridge. Major Skywalker, get your pilots to their fighters. We may need to do a cold jump out of here."

 

OOC

For future reference, ship operates on a five level alert system, five being the least and one being the most. A level four alert is a "hey be cautious," a level three alert is "get to your stations please," a level two is "BATTLESTATIONS NOW," and a level one is "DUDES THERE'S MANTIS ABOARD THEY JUST RIPPED MY SPLEEN OUT."

Edited by Strategist Alex Humva

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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and a level one is "DUDES THERE'S MANTIS ABOARD THEY JUST RIPPED MY SPLEEN OUT."

OOC:...

well then...

IC:

The speakers crackled as the the Colonel spoke. Ace grunted, and glanced at Rehn. He turned around, and headed to his bunk to pick up his weapons.

Just in case.

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Steam name: Ehksidian

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IC: Estelle

 

"I wish the Colnel got it out of her head that I'm a Star Wars character." She said as she jumped up. "Alright, Kitty Cat, let's get going. Grab your gear and meet me in the hanger."

 

As Estelle made her way to her room to get suited, she clicked the com on her shirt to address the colonel. "Roger that ma'am." Then she clicked it again, switching to communicate with her fighters. "You heard the Colonel! Suit up and met me in the hanger."

 

As Estelle entered her room, Spot bounded toward her in greeting, the slug dog slightly drooling as he barked.

 

"Not now, Spot!" She told him firmly as she pulled on her jumpsuit. It was black and pretty form fitting with a silver trim and falcon, along with the military symbol. She pulled her boots on and grabbed her helmet, making sure her weapons were tucked into her belt before connecting it around her waist.

 

"Off to the Falcon now, Spot. Be a good boy!" She called out to him as she ran to the hanger, hearing a loud "Woof!" From her room as she did.

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IC: Zokander sat in his quarters, carefully setting up his next meal. He had laid a napkin down as a makeshift tablecloth, he had carefully polished and laid down the cutlery, and set out the tray he had acquired from the mess. As he didn't trust the slug making the food he bought and brought his own, and arranged the rations he'd allocated for this meal meticulously upon his makeshift dinner plate.

And of course all his preparation was ruined when something scraped along the exterior of the Kestrel.

Sighing as the Colonel's voice came through the intercom, he put his meal aside and headed to his station.

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IC: J. Taylor

 

"Looks like l was done, not a moment too soon," Taylor said to himself after hearing the alert over the comm. He immediately started in a run for his station; dozens of thoughts went through his head, "Asteroids? Pirates?" No, he couldn't waste time wondering what might--or might not--be happening to the ship, Taylor knew he only had to keep his focus on one thing--doing his duty.

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IC: Ashley Landes

 

"Yes ma'am!" Ashley had become very alert the moment she'd heard the grinding. She was ready for action, she was right behind her commander before splitting off to head to her room and put on her gear. It wasn't a whole lot thankfully, just her jumpsuit, sidearm, and mandatory gear. Her jumpsuit was the standard design, though it was specially tailored to accommodate her ears and tail, it had a brown color scheme with gold highlights.

 

She found herself right behind Major Walker yet again as she headed toward the hangar. "Any idea what we're up against Ma'am?"

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My Bzprpg ProfilesGhosts of Bara Magna

Skyra | Hakari | Oceanna | Taleen | Arisaka | Zanakra | Kaminari | Drakkar

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IC Vincent

As soon as the alarm went off, Vincent rising away from the table. "Looks like something went down," Vincent muttered, picking up his toolbox and dashing towards the source of the disturbance. "If it's a hull breach, I'll need an oxygen mask and a protective suit as well."

Edited by A Magus With Class
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