Schizo Tech

[Archduke Daynel, PhD]

Name: Martin Anderson
Age: 29
Species: Human
Profession or Specialization: Merc, adventurer and gunslinger
Magical Aptitude and Tech Aptitude: 8/6
Biography or Backstory: Born and raised in the Northlands Alliance, but left for the temptation of adventure. Travels the world in a small airship, always looking to earn some extra cash, mostly within Alliance and Republic territory, and the areas not claimed by any of the great nations.
Overview: Rather tough fellow who knows how to survive, as is the trend amongst Nordic adventurers, and is usually in a good mood. He ain't stupid though, and is dead serious when need be.

[Error]

Looks good. Yer in.

Also: ACH, when you're not playing your character, you can make overall decisions regarding the Republic. Fen, if you so wish, you can take either the Alliance or the Free State.

I'll kick this off in a bit.

[Shadowcatbot]

Where is the Glorious Imperialistic Republic of Texas. YOUR LETTING THE MEXICANS RUN FREE *

[Professor Fenway]

I can take alliance, I guess.

[Error]

We shall start off.

Republic: You're deploying to a small town called Aetherhope. You're to peform a surgical strike and eliminate a local gang leader.

Alliance: You're deploying to the area outside the same town, to observe the Republic force and attempt to secure the gang leader's alliegiance if the Republic doesn't get him.

Exikes and drifters: You're in town looking for work, adventure, companionship, new hear, what have you.

- - -
Leaning back in her chair, Val surveyed the room. Nobody was brawling - yet - and nobody had drawn a weapon. With luck, she'd finish an entire drink without a fight breaking out.

[Julo]

Can I recycle my character from the Robotics RP? If yes, than here is my App:

Spoiler:

Name: Skra

Age: 36

Species: Laosor (ask, if more information is needed)


Profession or Specialization: Scout, Freerunner

Magical Aptitiude and Tech Aptitude: 10/5

Biography or Backstory: The first memories of Skra begin five years ago. He was a test subject at a research facility, where he got drugs injected, which would stimulate his mind, as the researchers believed, that his mind was very advanced in the sector, which control magic. The drugs were very ineffective and only caused a social anxiety disorder and lose his ability to speak. Now he can only communicate via telepathy. Skra escaped from the research facility and lived in the wilderness for 2 weeks, until a friendly exile farmer picked him up and took care of him. Skra lived with the farmer and helped him to earn money. Until one day, it was dark, a gang of bandits destroyed the farm and killed the farmer. Now Skra seeks revenge for his loss. He traced the bandits and got into this little bar in Aetherhope, on Anna-Maria-Island ,simply called: The Pier.

Overview: Very fearful, his first reaction to somebody else is to distrust them, he tries to keep cool and don't panic. He has exceptional good melee combat skills.

[Archduke Daynel, PhD]

Martin opened the door to the bar. He looked around and decided that it seemed to be a nice, not too violent one, and entered.
Not that a violent bar would be too much of a problem anyway. He was tough enough to handle himself in a fight, and he gave off an appearance of I-won't-fuck-with-you-but-if-you-fuck-with-me-you'll-regret-it. He did his best to give off this appearance, wearing clothes that let him move freely but made him appear slightly larger, and not acting in a way that would offend a sensible person. But he knew that only an idiot actually tries to get in a fight, and the wise man avoids them if possible.

Martin stepped up to the bar and ordered a whiskey. He then noticed the Aurelian, sitting by herself. She was small, like Aurelians tend to be, but still tough-looking, and she appeared to be a gunslinger of sorts, like himself. It all gave the appearance of her being quite the interesting person, so he walked over to her.

"Nice guns" Martin said, pointing towards the Aurelian's gun holsters.
"M-67s or your own modification?"

[Chairman_Tiel]

I can has African nation?

[Error]

There is no African nation. Not anymore. Julo, you're in.

BIC,

Val glanced up as the human parked himself opposite her. Suppressing an unflattering comment, she raised an eyebrow.

"M-57s, with a few alterations. Why?" she inquired. Keeping her eyes on the newcomer, she spotted trouble out of the corener of her eye - someone getting upset about a drink.

Oh, boy.

[Chairman_Tiel]

Why is it you always RP as a girl?

Are you trying to say something?

[Error]

Why is it you always RP as a girl?

Are you trying to say something?

That's cats you're thinking of, he always had female characters. I just decided it might be an interesting change of pace.

[cats]

Why is it you always RP as a girl?

Are you trying to say something?

That's cats you're thinking of, he always had female characters. I just decided it might be an interesting change of pace.

I usually use a female character because everyone else uses male. A little balance, you know?

[Professor Fenway]

Demivian marched onward, a plasma cannon slung over his shoulder. It overheated quickly, and was very dangerous to handle, but it's power was unmatched. His company commander only entrusted him to use it; everyone else would bust the firing device. He currently held a laser rifle, burst fire. It was capable of melting through walls, but he planned not to. He also carried a small coilgun, a pistol, merely as a backup. It was fairly powerful and completely silent. He wore four canisters on his waist, two on each side, full of a silvery-grey liquid material. Programmable Nano-Machines, able to receive impulses directly from the data-pad attached to his suit. The suit was composed of interlocking white and grey plates, and slightly shimmered with a photon energy shield just over the plates. It was seamless, highly technological, and molded perfectly to fit him. It sported a multitude of devices; gravity manipulation devices in his gauntlets, a small cloaking mechanism, a small rocket system mounted on his right arm, and more. And the most important piece was the Anti-Magic device, a small black box mounted on his back. When active, it would nullify the effects of magic on him; he nearly always kept it on. Everything of his was tech, no magic allowed.

He crushed a butterfly underfoot without thought. One of his squadmates, Zane, had joked about magical torture not minutes prior. And so the implants fired; he didn't care for anything at the moment. Most of his squadmates had already learned to keep their distance; Zane, being new, had not. If it weren't for the implant, Zane would be dead.

The city was coming into sight, known as Aetherhope. Some backwater town twenty some clicks from nowhere and only five from nothing.

[Vinyl]

Scanning the town with his photoreceptors, Ligion identified the various establishments. A tavern would provide a multitude of opportunities for tasks... Consensus reached. The robot was shrouded in several layers of dark clothing and armor, all mostly hidden by a large, black, torn duster coat as it approached the free-hinged doors, swinging them open enough to grant entry. The interior was empty for the most part, he identified five other Exiles/Drifters, four of which were engaged in two separate conversations.

"Ah tol'ja, that ain't whattai ordahrded."
"Listen here, you if want to start somethin', you talk it out back y'hear?"

Probability of patron being intoxicated 97%, probability of armed conflict 62%... Intervene? Probability of Bartender's innocence is 99%, force recommended.
Approaching, the other patrons paid no noticeable heed.
The slightly garbled electronic voice spouted in an angry tone, "Your conflict is misguided. Allow me to redirect you."
Barely enough time for a reaction, the man had begun to turn around as a punch landed, sending him directly into the resilient bar.

[Error]

"Frak sake." muttered Val, seeing the first punch land.

The downed patron's compatriots roared, cjarging the roboic being en masse - not that they managed much, as several well-placed punches and kicks dropped them easily.

Leaning back, Val settled in to watch the show.