Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
04-29-2016, 01:20 AM (This post was last modified: 04-29-2016 02:42 PM by Galloglasses.)
Post: #1
Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Frontier Fucked!
Whoops, the game

[Image: gal1.png]

[Image: gal2.png]

[Image: station.png]

It's been four hundred years since we were all nearly eaten.

And for two hundred years after that little... hiccup in galactic affairs we've been fighting eachother in an apocalyptic nightmare that burned the very stars itself. It was all very depressing and dramatic.

But its surprising how fast things can bounce back, because for the last two hundred years things have been getting back to what was considered 'normal' for those of us who belong to races who happen to be extremely long lived enough to recall such an age.

But while the Hypernet has made its welcome return, once again uniting the galaxy in near instantaneous contact from rim to rim, the great empires that once dominated the core worlds are no more. Some wiped out, others fractured into a hundred thousand state, some building the occasional dyson sphere and giving the entire galaxy at large a rude hand gesture before disappearing into their shell forever more.

They always seem to implode when they do however, no one's sure why. Most people don't care really.

Basically what I am getting at is the core worlds are exciting is what I am saying.

Entire wars are fought over scraps of ancient technology, states jealously guard the best technology for themselves and leaving poor unfortunates, read: the entirety of the population of the galaxy, with the dregs of the dregs to contend with.

So that is how you came to be on this station, perhaps you are a criminal fleeing prosecution, a mercenary shit out of luck, perhaps you were born here like the luckless bastard you are.

No matter, you're basically done with being on this floating hunk of space garbage whatever the cause, sown together by smashing space debris together, sealing the exterior and having crude atmospherics powered by a fifth hand power generator that started its life as a space tractor fuelled by illegally synthesised and highly unstable pitriogel.

However you ain't got no ship to call your own, and you don't really have any plans. Hell if you did? you wouldn't be stuck here in a fifth level Block City at a run down servo kiosk slurping away at Nitro™ brand genuine knockoff crushed ice while putting up with a broken down Virtual Intelligence's political opinions that were out of date 150 years ago when the Glarthox Empire vanished into nothingness.

Yes that is weirdly very specific.

Yes your life sucks that bad right now.

No matter, word has it some up and coming spacer captain is putting together a cre to find Old Spacebeard's long lost space treasure gathered from 200 years of successful space pirating during the space dark age, a trove of lost technology, magicks and wealth and apparantly women, but you're sure that is merely a consequence of the other stuff.

It's A 200 year old myth, but hey, if this guy's legit you're rich. What have you got to lose? Sure your life, but what's that been worth to you lately? Shitty Sundays spent slurping slush sitting silently at this swill selling stand?

Yeah you got no reason not to check it out.


Welcome back to Frontier Fucked!

Yes, Merchants was a disaster, but no more. I am done with games where I split the party up, I just can't run that shit, so back to what I am good at, party based forum games. Hope you bastards like chaos.

This game takes place in the aftermath of the last Frontier Fucked game where an ancient galaxy eating god entity nearly consumed the Galaxy because I got bored and my players were mocking me, claiming I wouldn't do such a thing.

The good news is, you don't need to know ANYTHING about the last game to join in this one, the better news was if you DO know things about the last game, the gods will smile favourably upon you. Take from that what you will.

The object of this game is mostly freeform, space rpg leaning heavily on the whimsy and less on the hard science, but having said that there are some ground rules you'll need to know about the respective tech levels of this galaxy.

Frontier Fucked is very much a Used Future setting, however, it is one that is slowly getting its shit back together. Gone are the days of the 'fuck you tier' equipment being in easy reach.

Ships tend to be old and heavily modded over the course of their long lives and newer ships are rarely the equals to their forebears. Ship to ship warfare is a crapshoot, very often if you are not the one immediately outgunned, you'll roll right over the enemy, but if you and your enemies are on par very very often your weapons will not be enough to win the day and ship boarding becomes an increasing possibility. (this is actually my attempt at retconning the boring space battles of the first game where only one player, the pilot was worth a damn and the rest of the players had to sit idly waiting for the fight to end. I welcome suggestions to improve on this as the game progresses) and you can forget about having enough money to custom build a ship to your liking. The only exceptions would be state controlled ships or those of the larger space corporations. Pick a fight with them at your peril, there's a reason space piracy in the core worlds is a rarity and usually sticks to raiding mining systems.

Power Armour
Power Armour, once a common staple in the old days is a tactical decision in this day and age. You will not have a suit of power armour that gives you shielding, advanced ballistic protection, servos to increase speed and strength all at once. If you wish to invest in power armour, you have to specify what specific advantage your suit gives you. Is it just a suit of armour for better protection? Is it an exoskeleton to increase speed and reaction times or strength? Is it technical and aid your technical whiz kid to hack on the fly or your engineer to construct things faster in impromptu situations? Or do you forego the armour entirely and invest in a backpack shield generator? Or is it just a fucking Boba-Fett style jet pack? You can always forego power armour and just wear generic armour for protection of course, would certainly increase your mobility if you're a fast character.

There is an exception however. Archeotech power armour, from the age before the Devourer, is all these things in one, and getting your hands on a full suit of one miiiiigggghhht be worth fighting your teammates for.

Just maybe.

Just as in Frontier Fucked, weapons are varied in this game.

Melee weapons are often a tactical choice and its often good to have at least one on your person, even if its a shitty shiv for a last ditch defence when out of ammo, or maybe you're just a crazy bastard who likes jumping into future combat with a viking axe, I'm not judging... much. However, power weaponry is always a prize for anyone, from beam swords to powered scyths capable of slicing through tank armour. To archeotech powered weaponry which is all of the above, plus shielding and other crazy, arcane effects.

Laser Weaponry is exactly what it says on the tin and about as common as tin in the galaxy, awesome against armour and flesh, shit against shields.

Ballistic weaponry, good old shooty shooty bang bangs, tears through flesh and easily overwhelms shields if a guy isn't careful. Tends to do poorly against armour.

Plasma weaponry, good old sun guns, you can thoroughly wreck an enemy squad's day with one of these in a single charged up shot... providing it doesn't explode in your hands and ruin your day. Grenade variants and archeotech versions are far more reliable.

Pulse weaponry, also known as enemas for robots. Pulse weapons are electromagnetic warfare on an up close and personal level and can scramble unshielded electronics entirely, very effective against drones and robotic opponents.

These are generic classes of weapons, you're free to fight however you want and can come up with your own shit.

Magic and Psionics
Space magic is a thing but I am making a difference between them and psionics for fluff reasons.

Your species could have evolved magic or a natural affinity to psionics, or even both, in character creation it costs extra in points to have this be the case however, but the reward is I let you get away with more wilder abilities. More bang for your buck.

Alternatively your species could not have evolved either and your character either learned magic, or had implants that allow psionics.

The difference between the two may seem arbitrary and while there are some obvious crossovers in terms of what both allow you to do, there are some notable differences in kind. Essentially magic allows spells, enchantments, blessings (if your magic relies on a god), buffs and at higher levels, some truly apocalyptic shit. Psionics allows you to buff yourself, read minds, pyschic warfare/protection and at higher levels mind flaying and mind control.

The difference is more of a tactical choice than anything else.

That all said, you're free to create your character and their species however you wish within reason. For example, nobody is allowed to be a space elephant. Fucking. Nobody. and generally you must be somewhere within the reasonable size range of a human for gameplay purposes. Be reasonable guys, dont be a dick.

Now you shall create your character, how they got to be on the station, and why they want LOADSAMONEY. You'll be investing points into certain things, like backgrounds which will help me justify the kinds of skills your character is believably capable of rather than outlining a skill tree like I did last game. For example, if two players have the Assassin background, but one guy puts two points into it, and another puts five points into his, the guy with five points can do way more shit than the guy with two. Or, alternatively, it could be the difference between the spy from TF2 and the guy from Splinter Cell, depends on how you spin it. You can make up your own backgrounds and describe them and you can have more than one.

You will also need to spend points in race creation if you want your race to have special abilities like flying, or naturally evolved magic or psionics. Otherwise most of your racial traits can be considered free, like say nightvision. If you are unsure, ask me.

Race creation aside, if you have powered armour of one variety or another, it also costs points, same with shielding. For game purposes, any kind of armour that has special abilities and isn't just a flak vest is considered powered armour, for example, chameleon armour that cloaks you for a limited time. Expensive as fuck mind.

Weapons do not require spending points unless they are awesome in some respect.

Magic and psychic abilities cost points, you can make up the kind of magic you want within reason. I reserve the right to tell you to fuck off however.

Once the game starts, you will not be limited however, and you can get armours and weapons and tech without restrictions.

One additional thing. I require each of your to create a symbol for your character, preferably simple and recognisable. Simple draw it in the top left hand corner of the character profile template below. This is necessary as it will be your character's symbol on the tactical maps once the game starts to immediately distinguish it from other symbols so people wont have to squint and search for names to tell who is who. Drawing a profile picture of what your character looks like is optional, but encouraged.

[Image: Appprofilepicture.png]

15 points

Name: (Who are you?)
Age: (How old are you?)
Description: (The fuck you look like, son?)
Species: (The fuck are you? Please include abilities, if they naturally have any)
Homeworld: (Where are you from? Mostly for fluff purposes, doesnt need to be the same world as your species' homeworld)
Backgrounds: (What did you do for a living? What defines you? What can you do? Please include particular skills you'd like to have specifically)
Psionics: Y/N (and abilities)
Magics: Y/N (Please include spells)
Bio: (So, what are you in for? How'd you end up in this dump?)
Why do you want LOADSAMONEY?: (Self explanatory)
Inventory: List off all the shit you have on you

04-29-2016, 07:31 PM (This post was last modified: 05-01-2016 02:18 PM by Kocel.)
Post: #2
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
[Image: FrontierFuckedAppPictureHarmonia.png]

Name: Harmonia Biggs

Age: 18 years since achieving sentience. I'm not a kid anymore.

Description: I DID have a deluxe frame and combat-ready space-suit, but that got destroyed when I... I think I fell into some sort of rift in space-time? The mechanic who found me said I was lucky my circuits were overloaded and not outright fried.

He then tried to reprogram me into being someone's maid. I'm glad I kept my firewalls up to snuff.

After I shoved him into a locker (whoops welded it shut on accident) I found out that my frame was damaged... Really badly. So I cobbled together a new one based off the... Supplies he had on hand. The resulting frame performs to what I'd call barely servicable standards, I have to maintain it CONSTANTLY, but... It holds up. It stands at about five feet, six inches, is feminine in form (thank Sol), and is capable of basic combat maneuvers. It has strength and ability equivalent to the average human... When the servos aren't freezing up. That happens sometimes. I installed cyan LED irises and occasional light-blue highlights to the body. Those glow-y blue lines that organics for some reason think the hypernet is made out of? Yeah think those. Anyways, the slum-shop didn't have any good synthetic hair, so I had to make do by making a pair of metal pigtails. They're... Kinda cute? I'm really warming up to them, I can program them to bob and perk up with music and... Well, they're not what I prefer for hair but they'll have to do.

I can't walk around NAKED, though (think of the scandal!), so I... I had some old clothes which sorta fit. The top is orange cloth, with two rose-pink lines going down the front, with an attached cowl on the back. It has a white silk belt, and an orange skirt, supported by yellow frills underneath. These clothes were made by a JERK but they're all I really have leftover from fighting Ruby Mountain (they're bad people), so I hold on to them, and I normally wear them when I'm singing. The rest of the time, I've gotten a black standard combat space suit. It has basic energy and kinetic shields, basic armor plating, and a jet pack. Oh, and I use the term "jet pack" generously, this thing basically just helps me propel myself in zero gravity. It doesn't really propel me that fast, and in artificial gravity? In artificial gravity it's just a waste of fuel. I don't know why that robotics shop just had it laying around but I didn't care.

So, yeah. Five foot six, glowing cyan eyes, metal pigtails, lady-shaped metal chassis. That's for you organics who don't like reading blocks of text.

Homeworld: Solace. That's the planet my dad, Wedge Biggs, founded. He's sort of a galactic hero and a big deal, I dunno. I don't really talk about him as much anymore because heroes are just, you know, storybook stuff. But he was a good man! He and mom raised me, and... I left the planet shortly after he died. Mom said he had been training me to fight an evil magic sentient weapon that could threaten the entire galaxy. I don't know about that anymore, either. I miss them... Even mom. Did I mention that my Mom is an all-powerful AI housed in a massive supercomputer deep in the crust of the planet? I probably should have mentioned that. She doesn't identify like most AIs in old-Earth fiction (which is really offensive, BTW), instead she's sort of... Synthetic-organic? I mean that's how she explained it. She's proud of her AI heritage, but she also wants to establish connections and family like most organic life does... But all AI are different! And Solace embraced that, as long as they were willing to coexist peacefully with organic life! It's pretty rad! But... Not on galactic maps. At all. I'm not surprised, we were pretty isolationist by the time I left. The universe probably pieced itself back together without us... I hope Mom is okay.


I have experience as a singer, barista, and electronics maintenance and prototyping. I can't do anything TOO crazy with the latter, but I use it to maintain chassis and help out my fellow synthetic. I also have combat experience from the fight against Ruby Mountain, and serving with Captain N taught me valuable skills about being a second in command!


DANCING - MAX. Okay. Well. Maybe... I mean, I am the best dancer ever, but this chassis isn't the best for dancing. I'm kind of limited by it. But if I get something more mobile, just wait!

SINGING - MAX. I am the best singer ever. I have all the best vocalization programs and I've studied all the records of ancient Earth media... Oh Sol, I should have tried to get Miku's autograph when on old Earth. I think she was, like, the first AI singer ever or something? Warp, I hope I can go back someday.
Harmonia runs synthetic vocal programs capable of achieving a variety of effects. She's not just playing back recorded samples, she's actually tuning and altering the sound of her voice in real time. This means she can cover a variety of genres, but admittedly people who prefer organic voices might not enjoy her songs as much.

PUTTING ON A SHOW- MAX! Oooh, just give me some lights and a fog machine. And some high-tension cable. And a bunch of reliable stage hands.... Agh, I need money.

(I'm wrapping these up into one skill, Performing. Apparently this is a "fluff" skill and needs no points, but imagine that it'd be at a four or five point rank.)

IDOL CHARISMA: When you're famous you learn how to react to and please your fanbase. I'm pretty good at working with people!
(Two Points)

LEADERSHIP: I learned from only the best, my dad and Captain N!
(One Point)

COFFEE MAKING: Mr. Frank taught me what he called "FORBIDDEN COFFEE ARTS." Mr. Frank was a giant gorilla who was in love with a coffee machine. Coffee was sort of his thing.
(Fluff skill? If so, one imaginary fluff point.)

SWORD FIGHTING - MAX! ... Okay, okay, honestly, with this chassis? I'm pretty limited in what I could do. Still, I was the Solace Fencing Championship Grand Prize winner for five years in a row! Even Sword-o-tron couldn't beat me, and he was an AI who focused his entire identity around fencing!
... He was also a dick.

(Four points)

PISTOLS - MAX... ISH! Okay, okay, so I'm not the best shot with a pistol. Don't say that I should be since I'm an AI, that's synthecist. I learn things like any other living being (well, I've downloaded knowledge before, but it's weird, takes a lot of time, and it kinda hurts), so I've only learned by experience. And most of my experience was through going to firing ranges with my Dad. He really only taught me how to use pistols, though he did let me shoot his old mining laser a few times. That thing was... Surprisingly effective? But really big and clunky. I'm not carrying that around everywhere! Even IF my hyperspace inventory wasn't fried, that's just clutter I don't need.

(One Point)

PROGRAMMING- MA- okay I'm not even going to lie, I'm not as good at this as I should be. I mean, Mom always was trying to force lessons on this stuff down my throat but I just wanted to do LITERALLY anything else. I'm pretty good, though! I mean, um, about average? Better than average? I mostly excel at firewalls, since I need those to be really strong for whenever I interface with any tech. That's really risky. So, I'm a PRO at setting and maintaining firewalls but when it comes to, like, hacking and stuff? Unless I jack my consciousness in to the system I'm not that great.

(Two Points)

ELECTRONICS - I'm better with hardware than software, to be honest. It's just... It's a lot easier to work with. I can't build spaceships or anything like Dad's friend Francis used to, but I can make temporary parts for my chassis and build stage equipment!
(Three Points)

MACHINING/PROTOTYPING: Sometimes you need something custom, either for your chassis or for your show. That's when you just have to break out the plasma-cutter and get to work.
(Two Points)

PSIONICS: One time there was this guy who cheated on one of my friends, so I hacked the audio feed on his space-suit (it was during a training exercise), modulated his voice, and made him think he was going crazy. It was pretty hilarious but mom and dad grounded me for weeks after.
... But yeah no, I can't do psionics, you need organic components to do psionics.

Magics: Mom always said that magic was what organics use to cheat the laws of the universe. Dad said that magic was what crazy clones use to blow up their friends. Neither of them really liked it that much.
... So no, I don't use magic.

Bio: Well, I think I covered most of that when you asked where I was from and what I looked like... But I didn't cover how I got HERE. I mean, I'm from... 400 years in the past? And that's IF this IS my home-dimension. I don't know how space-time works. It kinda stresses my system to try to consider it.

But yeah, so, I spent the last... Year? It was less than a year really, but a year passed for me somewhere between that and now... But yeah, I was part of this crew that was trying to fight an evil company called Ruby Mountain. They were up to some really bad stuff, like, slavery, and experimenting on sentient life... Anyways, I teamed up with an old friend of my dad's, who turned out to be a huge jerk, and a bunch of other people to take them down. And we did! I think. Captain N lead us on this big assault on some prison, and I set everyone free (even though Job was trying to sabotage everything I did) and it was WARPING AWESOME.

And then I started falling backwards through a chair and my systems failed. I woke up on this station in some weirdo's workshop.

... What? Oh, yeah, I said I welded him into a closet... Well I called a neighbor to go let him out after I left. I made sure to destroy all his security videos and I grinded off the serial numbers on all my parts. I'd go back and pay him for it all at some point but he was WEIRD. You didn't see the type of stuff he kept in that workshop, okay? I did. I did, and I'm tempted to delete it from my memory.

Anyways, I've been working as a lounge singer since then. The place I work is kinda scummy but the bouncers are good. I really need a better break than this.

Why do you want LOADSAMONEY?: Well, I need funds for a lot of reasons. I need to find out what happened to Solace, I need to find out if Excalibur still exists as a threat to the universe (for my dad's sake I hope it doesn't, he really hated the thing), and I'd like to start up my career as an intergalactic pop star again. I mean, at one point, I DID want to be, like, a hero or something, but heroes don't exist. It'll be better to look after myself.


CUSTOM ROBOTIC CHASSIS MADE FROM VARIOUS SPARE PARTS - Not the best I've ever used, but it'll do for now.

IDEGEN BRAND DIVA DRESS - What, no, this wasn't made by Mr. Idegen, Mr. Idegen is a jerk who cares about no one but himself, and he'd never be capable of making a dress as pretty and awesome as this.

STANDARD QUALITY COMBAT SPACE SUIT, SPRAY PAINTED AN EDGY SHADE OF BLACK - It's nothing fancy, but it's better than what I've used before. Which is great. I don't like getting torn to pieces by stray shots, it's not fun. It has basic energy and kinetic shields, basic jet thrusters, and an oxygen system that I obviously don't use. I thought about removing it, but I'm keeping it in there in case I have to lend this to an organic someday.
... Also shut up, I didn't spraypaint it, it was black when I found it.

ONE DAMAGED AND DEACTIVATED LASER-RAPIER - The stupid wormhole fried my favorite rapier. If I can get it working again, it'll be a great weapon. But until then I've just got to rely on...

MR. SHIV BRAND VIBROFOIL - A highly keen rapier that, when activated, vibrates at sonic speeds. This allows it to pierce most things with relative ease. Vibrofoils unfortunately don't work as well on shields. Which is why I have my...

SUREFIRE LADY'S LASER PISTOL - So this stupid thing is the same as their other laser pistols, but they painted it pink and put little rhinestones all over it. I spraypainted it black and scraped off the rhinestones... Then, okay, I put some little fake sapphires on it instead. This and the rapier cost me, like, three months worth of tips to get, but it's better than having nothing. I mean, I did beat a stalker to unconsciousness with a toilet plunger one time. That was fun. But I don't want to have to do it again.

BROKEN HYPERSPACE INVENTORY MODULE - The only person I found on this station that seemed to have even the slightest IDEA how to fix this thing wanted to charge me a FORTUNE for it. And that was without a guarantee of success! Warp that. Instead I found a great...

ADORABLE PINK SHLOGGOTH BACKPACK - Okay so the beak and tentacles aren't normally what you'd call cute but LOOK AT THE EYES! They're big and shiny and SO CUTE! And... And this isn't something a professional would wear, is it?

SLEEK PROFESSIONAL BLACK AND SILVER BACKPACK - Okay. Yeah. This says "I'm the next big thing, not a kid with no sense of what's cool", right?

SLEEK PROFESSIONAL BLACK COCKTAIL DRESS - Yeah I can't wear that colorful thing all the time, that's not professional either.

SLEEK PROFESSIONAL PURSE - It's not as nice as it looks, I bought this from a stall selling knock-offs in an alley somewhere. Really I carry it just so I have somewhere to hold my pistol.





REFERENCE: Harmonia's Ruby Mountain 2 Bio.
04-30-2016, 01:47 AM (This post was last modified: 06-03-2016 07:32 AM by MQuinny1234.)
Post: #3
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Name: Wutzu

Age: 35

[Image: Wutzu_zpsrg8ax6vk.png]
Based off of
5 ft 10, 6 ft 2 with the horns. Normal looking build.

Wears fine and thin dark clothing. His robes and inner clothing have black and dark grey shades background with respectively dark grey and light grey artwork sewn in. Weaving lines and vague curving shapes creating a sort of subtle optical illusion, emphasised when he's moving. Apart from these drab colours, there's a collection of 4 yellow dots on each of his shoulders and a golden scabbard by his belt. Instead of shoes or boots, wears a sort of tough leather stocking, revealing the shape of his feet. The only visible part of his body are his hands, with a golden ring on his left hand, 3rd finger from the thumb and two golden string wristbands wrapped four times around his wrists.

His cloak/armless hoodie is the most modern and casual looking item of his appearance. While his other clothing are comparable to noble finery in style and quality, clearly specially made, it's more similar to something out of a common store that's been worked on haphazardly later. It's arms were torn off and sewn up, patchwork holes fixed up and the faint artwork from his other clothing does not flow and dance upon the cloak, instead looking more of straight lines and spikes in style.

Wears a metallic horned mask at all times. Coming from behind the mask there's an elastic sort of fabric covering the back of his head and running down over his neck, keeping it in place. Apart from 2 indents where his eyes are, a crack between the horns and numerous scratches the mask is mostly featureless, except for the same fine and faint artwork in his clothing running over it. His left horn is longer than his right by about an inch and is thicker around the base.

Species: Kantong.

Has 6 fingers, including 1 thumb but each has an extra knuckle over humans' digits. No Nails. Have three long toes and a slightly more elongated heel compared to human feet also. Mostly similar to humans in basic build otherwise. Facial features are likewise similar except for a lack of nose and 2 horns that grow over time. Most Kantong horns tend to be asymmetrical in some way, but normally the right horn is larger than the other. These grey horns also have bands of faint colours that develop as they mature, becoming more prominent and permanent in adulthood. Also, while their eye colour does change like humans, the colour fills their eyes.

Kantong variations in eye colour and horns are the source of a large superstition in their culture, that one can be compared to others in the past by them.

Beyond some basic telepathy, Kantong have one major innate psionic ability. Whenever a creature dies nearby, or by their hand, flashes of memory are absorbed by them. This ability tends to be naturally suppresed as they get older by most Kantong, to the point that only the death of a sentient being, compared to the intellects of dogs and insects, will send bursts of past emotions and sentiments to them. This has created a certain respect and view for death amongst them, different to most other races. Murder is a rare event for Kantong, and if done, say in the heat of the moment, tends to leave the murderer repentant and/or insane due to the absorption of their victims memories. Cold-blooded killers are hence even rarer as Kantong are not naturally disposed to murder of other sentient beings, such a being amongst Kantong must be specially grown and trained. Those practiced in the art of Soul Capture are hence feared as evil by Kantong typically, a skill practiced by insane murderers, something out of their horror stories by depraved beings, equivalent to psychopaths. It's also said that those who repeatedly use this ability do so to gain the skills and knowledge of their victims, and increase their soul's power.

Homeworld: Tianli. A cloud covered planet orbiting a far and small sun. Sprawling cities cover the little patches of land and extend far into the vast seas of the planet. Before technological advancement, Tianli was a planet of hundreds of thousands of islands, all surrounded by seas that rapidly changed between dead calm and ferocious wrath. Now, steel cities have been built and extended over between the islands, with great metal pillars supporting buildings and platforms beneath.

Backgrounds: Ex-Shintai (Ex-Assassin) 7 points.

Trained from birth to be a political tool for murder, his training included breaking and entering, espionage, tracking and of course, the art of death-dealing, including poison, garrote and bladed weaponry. Extrapolating from this, Wutzu has the ability to get around, either through dangerous or into secure areas, some skill at forgery and deception and sabotage, find certain people, even if they don't want to be found or if he needs information from someone, and he's very good at darts.

Scholar 3 points

All future assassin's were expected to behave in high standards in all their actions during their employment, so whilst most of their studies and goals were focused on their future profession, they were expected to do well outside of this also. So classes such as the basic sciences, history and geography, art and languages, and philosophy/morality were taught also. Wutzu enjoyed his philosophy classes the most, although he now sees they were especially tinged with the same propaganda that infused his entire childhood. Still, his outside miscellaneous skills include the arts, such as painting and poetry, philosophy, manners, rhetoric and logic.

Psionics: Soul Capture (Kantong starting ability) - The ability to view and steal the memories of a dying mind. This ability is normally suppressed during maturity, like a muscle that's deliberately never used, but if worked on instead, can grow to the point where large parts of a victims life can be viewed, the downside being that it's the equivalent of super training your hearing in that, it's hard for one trained in Soul Capture to not sense the emotions and memories of those dying. Despite popular rumours amongst the populace, excessive use of this skill does not truly strength ones own soul, nor does it allow one to gain all the victims knowledge and masteries, although it can admittedly help. Wutzu is indeed trained in the art of Soul Capture. 2 points

Soul over Body - A basic physical buff increasing speed, strength and senses. 2 points.

Soul over Mind - A basic mental buff, increasing mental defense and allowing intrusive telepathy such as reading minds or forcing a telepathic connection. 1 point.

Magics: None.

Bio: Wutzu was chosen from a very young age to be indoctrinated into the political service of the Qintai, basically the equivalent of the Kantong secret service, who chose to train Wutzu as a Shintai, their term for essentially a ninja, loyal to the kantong government. The Qintai see to it that political dissidents are kept quiet, that people keep their heads down and get to work, and enforce the rigid authority of the upper class over the masses. The Shintai are those uniquely trained to be able to commit cold-blooded murder without losing their minds and to specialise in the art of Soul Capture. Their relationship with those outside other Shintai and Qintai is kept to a minimum to repress feelings of empathy with the lower class or doubt of their purpose. They also tend to be drafted from the populace who would view with superstition. Left-horners and handers, certain eye and band colours, etc. They practice Soul Capture on criminals for basic training to dull the sensation of murder, on innocent victims turned insane and drugged to the gills with mind-altering-enhancements to learn to handle the rush of emotion and confusion, and on specialists and scholars to learn to seek out specific skills or facts from the stolen memories, etc.

As their graduation, each future Shintai is tasked with their first mission, Wutzu was tasked with the most difficult task of hunting down a renegade Shintai. It took months but he was successful. Ten years after the act, he returned to the makeshift grave he'd left for the renegade, unburied them and took the cloak from it's skeletal form. Then he murdered over 2 dozen specific nobles over a month, including the noble master responsible for the control of the Shintai, with sabotage, explosives, poison and blade. He then fled the planet, escaping just due to the pandemonium he'd left behind in his wake, the identities of secret agents and other Shintai, suppressed acts and crimes by the nobles, security codes all made public creating chaos.

Since then, he's been bouncing from port to port, as far away from Tianli as possible. After a couple of years of running, Wutzu's settled down here, on this shit-heap of a station for the last few months. Tired of running and having no goals, no purpose, feeling his standards and bearing erode. Not necessarily a bad thing, falling apart, but without a purpose towards reinvention, terrible. Something needs to change, beyond running, beyond 1 minute conversations with strangers, beyond silently flickering through old memories and regrets.

Why do you want LOADSAMONEY?: He's sick of living like a bum, hiring out his skills to crook scum, committing petty theft to survive. Money is needed for a certain standard of living. Money also gets new gear, and fixes old gear. It also can be used to get people off your back, money is power in a sense.

Plasma blade - A weapon of thin metal frame, that when activated faintly glows with gold. Much stronger and rigid than it's appearance would seem.
Garrotte - Situationally useful.
Daggers - Loadsofem
Smokebomb - Emits foul smelling smoke that stings the eyes and other exposed skin. 1 left
Shintai Mask - One way metal, it can be seen through by the wearer. Functions as a basic rebreather, can be outfitted with more gadgets but most miscellaneous apps have been sold away over the last few years. Has nutrient tubing for food and drink intake and the lower part can be disconnected and slid out to free the mouth also.
Sewing Kit - Easier to fix Wutsu's clothing then get it anew.
Art supplies - Shut up.
2 more sets of fine Tianli clothing.
3 sets of casual clothing.
1 golden ring.
1 utility belt. Where Wutsu keeps his wallet and other gear
1 plain backpack. Where he shoves his clothing, books and anything else when he's getting the hell out of somewhere.
1,700 credits
Literally mood-altering candles.
Some Kantong candles too.

“One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered.” - Doctor Impossible
04-30-2016, 02:39 AM (This post was last modified: 05-17-2016 08:54 AM by Bramzter.)
Post: #4
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
[Image: AppprofilepictureDEMONATTORNEY_zpslgkgojxf.png]

Name: Donavan Drako [Freelancer] (True name: ???????)
Age: A couple eon's i suppose...although it has been 40 years or so after losing job 'benefits' so lets fill that in shall we?
Description: Well, you could say i am a handsome devil... 'literally'. The best thing about the whole 'purgatory' system we had in place getting unmade is that we could finally stop masquerading as those pink little fleshy soul-bags and REALLY strut our stuff you know?

Well there is of course the characteristic horns, cloven hoofs, wings, eyes aglow with amber and bladed tail indicative of our species, my hide is a healthy red-ish purple and i pull of a marvelous hairdo of black.. slicked back of course along with a utterly machiavelian facial hair... it was dress code back at the company. Really those primitive old earth sketching's are so inaccurate it is almost slanderous.. We should have sued them eon's ago.. if we didn't have the whole tormenting souls thing we did.. bygones are bygones i suppose

Of course we still need to look representative, so most of the time i cloth myself in a sharp soot suit.. the soot is literal you know, since hell had a LOT of coal and with that i wear some fitting shoes and if i am feeling rather old fashioned i still have a old top hat lying around... For encounters in space or rather unsuited environments i own a space suit with all the basic functions.. Its Hellcorp sooooo its pretty resistant to heat and flame too. Always a bonus in our work.

Species: I am a devil, you know those ones in the rreeeaaalllll old earth books? We used to be pretty damn cool and flaunted our power at every opportunity especially if it messed with other people! However after what happened with the big boss and hell we kinda lost a great deal of that stuff which is a damn shame in my opinion..we still have some hugely watered down versions left tho..

Still this change hasn't really adjusted many of our mannerisms from the old days, Most devils still delight in causing mayhem and tricking the hapless souls with shoddy pacts or deals which still is easy cause everything already is pretty shoddy...I even heard some of the more successful devils even partake in consuming souls, Must have been bloody middle management with their stupid executive pay and are probably now sipping souls out of lousy champagne glasses. pricks. If only i knew some of those punks their real name, you see all us demons and devils have a true name and once you know it... well it allows you to do terrible things to another so always guard your true name Kiddo's!

Homeworld: Purgatory or as it is usually called Hell. Long gone are the usual associations with a infernal blaze or a frozen waste where demons gleefully tortured sinful souls and such other imagery that were depicted in the past. Hell is and was always privatized and is a endless maze of red tape and regulations as well as a sort of market for the human soul. Stocks are bought and sold and the index is always in flux, rising and falling and then rising again. Demons are classed by their rank in the corporate chain and are usually dreaming and scheming to be 'The Big Boss'. Each of the demons usually had their own corporation under Hellcorp and usually named them after their public name..which became part of their public title. some idiots once tried it with their true name and it ended hilariously ugly

That was until the hell and all of reality ceased to exist for a moment and every soul in hell was lost, Not only that but they were also invaded by humans who were kinda sick of always getting huge losses in any 'deals' with hell. So basically it doesn't exist anymore.

Still its a great source of coal.

Well back at the company i specialized in the interactions with soon to be product. you know.. acquisition. That meant playing in on mortal's greed and other stupidity to get them to well.. sell their soul. After hell just stopped i found myself trying chasing space ambulances... i am a attorney. I also sell coal. Call me.

Demonic Heritage: Due to being awesome and a demon magical attacks don't phase me much as do most hazardous environments like fire and freezing temperatures and the like...This does not mean i can stay very long however, it only kills me slightly slower then a normal mortal. Space is still a no go without a suit tho. (5 points)

Bat outta hell: Yeah these wings are semi useful. I can't really fly or anything but they have their uses (1 Point)

Good Advice is Free Advice: I can use my dashing charisma to influence and convince most people to see it on my side of the argument, trick them into being reckless and possibly get discounts too.. (2 points)

Claw and Trident...and maybe a shiv or two: basic melee skill focused on pole and improvised weapons (2 points)

Engine buff: Look we used a /lot/ of coal furnaces in hell. (2 Point)

Psionics: We have some, its really fun.
Confusion: Messes with someone's thinking, handy for when that guy you owe money too comes around (3 points)

Magics:Oooooh those days are long gone unfortunately...except for one single spell.
Fireball: A Hellcorp Classic (1 point)

Bio: Well back at the company i worked in acquisitions, its was not really a high end job but it payed the bills, along with immortality of course it was quite a comfy job... that was until we lost all those souls with the end of the world and all and these angry human soulbags showed up.. probably some sort of rival organization or something since they dressed pretty snazzy. Anyway they wasted a lot of the lower management and even wacked the big guy himself.. Look i ain't one of them middle class basterds who just fled into their high and mighty vacation homes and their stacks of embezzled souls... pricks, Nah we on the lower orders of the rung had to take 'mortal' jobs or be stuck mining coal for all eternity under those humans..

So yeah, luckily i wasn't at hell when that all went down, I have gotten myself a job here as a corporate attorney... since no one is looking for someone with a eon's worth of sales experience and a huge stockpile of coal.... Mortal jobs suck, i want to get outta this dump

Why do you want LOADSAMONEY?: Well, New Hell is going to need alot of funding if its ever going to take off, Every Devil worth his suphur was eyeing the position of the big guy, i don't see how thats changed.. or if that plan falls trough i would settle for a more luxurious life then those middle management punks really.


- A unfathomable amount of Hellcorp Coal- Look the stuff was everywhere! I can't help it!

- Aftershave - It smells like sulphur

- Hellcorp 'Torment' Tri-drill - Its a trident with drills as its points, perfect for mining and drilling trough stone, car brakes, armor, and flesh, Not so much for shields tho.. Anyway its a classic for us demons.

- Hellcorp 'Infernal' immolator - For when things gets trough, this little baby immolates anything in a very small cone in front of the wielder.. very short range tho and doesn't light a candle in comparison with a good ol' fireball

- Classy soot stained Clothes - Yeah keep your smart mouth shut, i still look better then any of my clients.

- Secure Black Briefcase - No self respecting business demon hauls his paperwork around otherwise.

- List of Clients and Galactic Police Watch list - Just a little something for insurance. My clients tend not to be the most moral types.
04-30-2016, 07:25 AM (This post was last modified: 05-02-2016 07:44 AM by Palamedes.)
Post: #5
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
[Image: Frontier%20Fucked%20Character%20Sheet.png]
Name: Darwin Clifford

Age: 26

Description: Oh I'm not much to look at sir. I try to look professional enough even in situations where it's not needed, wearing one of my suit jackets, with a tie and button up of course. I know they're not the best quality but they're hard to come around these days so I've either had them for a while or picked them up after a bit of use. Grooming's another thing that can be hard to manage these days for a guy like me, but I do my best there too. Getting a short, professional haircut is no big deal and of course a clean shave and proper bathing are necessary, but I don't always have the resources available or affordable for gel and similar stuff to keep this brown mess in check.

Some people say I'm a bit groveling, but trust me sir when I say I come by it completely honestly. You'll never find a more loyal worker.

Clifford is purposely underwhelming. Given his skills he could sell himself for much more, but for either personal or professional reasons he chooses to sell himself as a minor lackey rather then the powerful asset and leader he clearly is capable of being. Whatever reasons he may have, his choice has proven mostly successful. Curiously, when situations arise that require immediate action, however, he has shown time and time again a willingness to do so instead of simply deferring as usual.

Species: A human, I know it's probably been a long time since you've seen one but hey we're still around here and there.

Homeworld: Dolgnok, a world with exceptionally long day/night cycles and vicious nocturnal beasts, making permanent residences difficult. Due to this, it proved to be an excellent place for refugees seeing as how it was more or less completely left alone. Lifestyles there tended to be based around more nomadic lifestyles, favoured food that could either travel with them or took a long time to grow but with high yields, and naturally produced survivors. There are also still lots of abandoned wrecks from the many attempts to settle the planet before and after the calamity, especially around caves and other natural, dark locations that people mistakenly believed would provide safe shelter.

Background: Well, I've got some natural bargaining skills and, though I hate to deny it, a good amount of experience getting out of trouble. Not that I'd abandon you, I'm just not much of a fighter, obviously. I can, if you need me too though, I do have some slight self-defence training. Some of my jobs have been pretty risky.

Six points

Clifford has several skills that have proven his usefulness to us. Here is a short list of his most notable traits.

Diplomacy: Clifford is able, without any unnatural provocation, to work things out with people with relative ease and always present himself in a positive light. This greatly enhances, and is enhanced, by his psionic abilities. Power Level: One

Dexterity: Clifford has an almost unnatural ability to maneuver himself throughout tight spots, both in terms of locations and hostiles. Similar to his charisma, this works very well with his powers. Power Level: One

Hand to Hand Combat: Clifford is trained in the art of unarmed and lightly armed murder. This is a highly useful talent given the fact that much of his work has involved a high degree of security making weapons difficult to bring to bear. Power Level: Three

Assault weapons: When getting personal with enemies doesn't work, Clifford relies on regular firearms. Prefers weapons such as shotguns, assault rifles, and sub machine guns are their improved use against multiple opponents. Power Level: One

Psionics: I'm a bit of a minor psionic, though of course I've practiced quite a bit too. It's not that special but I can sometimes tell what people are planning and I can establish a good empathy link between them and the needs of you and your crew members.

I can also sort of fly a bit, but that took a while and I don't really know how it tied in. Magic maybe?

Nine points

Clifford is highly trained in the ancient and forbidden art of Diplomancy. This allows him to read and influence people's minds to a very high degree, though it often requires him to actually speak to them. The mind reading also allows him to greatly enhance his combat abilities against foes within a good distance, as he can completely predict and sometimes control their actions before they know they will make them. It is most effective used against one or two opponents at once or a highly organized force working in tandem, becoming less effective as enemy numbers and independence in action rises.

Most effective against organic intelligent life but does maintain lesser effectiveness against non-organic and non-sentient life.

Power Level: Eight

He can also fly, but we have no idea how or why. Possibly reminiscent of a paper on a breeze or a slithering snake, since he seems to have be easily flit about by a strong enough wind. This ability doesn't seem to be from psionics and isn't detected by any relevant tests, but legends say it is a natural talent of any who pick up the diplomancer trade which is what our scientists are forced to assume.

Power Level: One

Magics: Pfft. I'm sorry sir, but I have no experience with that and I'm not going to mess around with it. Except the flying of course, not sure how that works.

Clifford seems to have no magical affinity and has ignored any training efforts. Our scientists are pretty sure the flying isn't magic related, though as previously mentioned we have little to no idea how it works in the first place.

Power Level: Zero

Bio: Oh, well, I grew up on that, uh... diplomatically I'd call it a crapheap. You wouldn't want to live there. Not that you couldn't, I'm positive you'd triumph, but it's just not the best place for anyone with any aspirations beyond not getting caught in night. I moved to a major planet as soon as I met a guy with a ship and willingness to take on an eager crewmember, and I learned that to make sure the person who got that chance was me would require absolute loyalty and professionalism - or, again, what some people incapable of respecting authority would call groveling. Got a job at a corporation, and got promoted after a while and was transferred to a new division. That division went bust, and everyone involved was fired for either screwing up or not doing anything to stop the failure. Now I've been working back and forth as people need me, mostly as a diplomat between people who don't trust whoever they're talking to to not kill their envoys. And uh, now I'm here!

Clifford was noticed at a young age from our secret base on Dolgnok. Of course, there was the natural Nokian inclination towards doing the necessary for survival and cause, but he also had shown respectable physical capabilities and powerful and dangerous psionic powers. After some exploration into his family line, he was found to be from an old family of notable diplomancers, who survived their extermination and the ensuing calamity that almost destroyed the core galaxies. Regardless, no powers had been shown to manifest in any of his recent ancestors hence why the trail was hard to notice.

He passed our secret tests with ease and, when introduced to our organization did not show any signs of questionable loyalty. He proved the most capable of that year's planetary recruits almost immediately and would have been their squad leader, were it not for his tendencies to choose being a follower instead. After his graduation, he became primarily a solo agent for espionage and diplomatic manipulation and successfully integrate himself into civilian life to the point where none knew both of his two lives existed, much less suspected that they were even remotely related.

However, times changed and people of his talents were required further from the few systems where he was active. A promotion and catastrophe were organized to keep him moving around, and though he did protest the necessary loss of life he relented to and accepted the wisdom of the decision fast enough that no loyalty reports were filed.

Why do you want LOADSAMONEY?: Well I mean, it'd be nice to not be living week to week, especially given how most of my jobs end with at least the threat of a huge amount of violence. I know this will be dangerous too, but at least the payoff's supposed to be nice.

Clifford has been assigned this mission after research showed the potential of gains from the Spacebeard find outweighed the potential of it simply being unfounded rumous and the loss of time incurred if so. His instructions are to integrate himself into the crew, and upon discovering the find returning as much of it as possible to META.

Inventory: Oh not much, just some spending cash in case of emergencies, clothes, and some stuff in case a fight is on our hands.

- Multiple suits/ties/shirts/pants, professional but worn. (Business always)
- Pair of dress shoes. (Necessary for walking and the outfit)
- Briefcase. (Of course)
- Suitcase. (Makes sense)
- Small amount of cash. (Probably a good idea)
- Various minor toiletries. (Gotta stay professional)
- Walmart High Quality Wrist Computer and Communicator. (Actually really basic with shit battery life but it's what a salaryman can afford)
- Straight razor. (Well he probably shaves right?)
- Dakka U "DiscreteDak" light assault rifle, easily taken apart and reassembled. (Wait)
- Luzmat-Olikil "Let Me Count the Ways" Laser Rifle, scatter and automatic firing options. (Wait what)
- Totentech "Murder-She-Wore" Quality Brand Shoe knife (Space Jesus Darwin)
- Mr. Shiv's One and Only Concealable Laser-Shiv (Come on)
- Assassi Nation's Machine Washable Armoured Vest, durable but thin enough to be worn under clothes for the killer about town. (Enough already)
- Transponder to contact META exactly once. (You know just whatever)

So, sir, do I have the job?

FF1 lore:

META is a powerful organization founded by the eponymous superbeing formed during the Final Battle for the core galaxies. Merlin, a space wizards unhinged by horrific science experiments and in possession of the all-powerful artifact Excalibur, accidentally took control of a secret human faction that gathered one of a kind artifacts both tame and deadly. They experimented on and manipulated these 'experiments' for obviously ominous and belligerent purposes despite probably starting with reasonable intentions, even though many of them were uncontrollable and as dangerous to their captors as anyone. When the great old god awoke, being in its presence shattered Merlin's psyche and destroyed Excalibur's physical form, causing their minds to be fused into the space wizard's body. Their collective mind was then immediately joined by seven of the eight great known AIs of the universe (five currently in possession/part of META, one currently in possession of Wedge Biggs, two destroyed in the batte) and thus META the being was formed. From there, META consolidated control of the organization and named it in its likeness.

Most of META's fleet survived the fight with the god, as did META themselves despite their near-defeat by their old friends and allies, and so the organization survived. They have continued their effort to gather experiments and manipulate the galaxy wherever they can for their purpose - and with no properly cohesive powers to stand in their way, they've grown rather effectively. Many don't even know they're working for the organization, and of those that do only a few aren't kept in line via something besides loyalty.
04-30-2016, 07:35 AM (This post was last modified: 04-30-2016 07:37 AM by Demonsul.)
Post: #6
RE: FRONTIER FUCKED! - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
[Image: gibberingbot.png]

Name: He likes to go by the name of Dan. His original designation and name are long gone.

Age: "This one... does not know."

Dan has been around longer than he can remember, in some form or other. How old he actually is (and what his original form may have been) is lost to time. He is effectively immortal, provided he can keep replacing his parts forever.

Description: "Do nottttt be afraid..."

Dan looks like a heap of junk piled taller than it is wide. It's about five feet tall and three feet across, composed of a solid mass of electronic detritus and scrap plates, propelled at the bottom by tracks and many scuttling little legs, and manipulating the environment with an array of robotic claws and mechanical tentacles. A single cluster of illuminated red eyes rests recessed near the top of the heap, though there are also further red-dot eyes on the ends of some of its 'arms'. As its appearance is disturbing to robots, it tends to wear its reflector tarp as a sort of makeshift cloak, hiding most of its form and making it look just like a hunchback robot with a few tentacles.

Dan traverses on his scuttling legs and tracks, making a mechanical whirring and clicking everywhere he goes. If you think he'd struggle with stairs or ladders, make no mistake, those robo-limbs are easily strong enough to lift his own substantial weight, even if it does look ungainly and cumbersome. Even when stationary, Dan constantly twitches and fidgets, and mutters to himself in a multitude of almost-silent digital voices, perpetually trying to organize the dozen or more distributed chips that make up his brain. When speaking, his voice is tinny, halting and clearly synthesized, occasionally pausing or glitching mid-sentence and underlaid by the perpetual muttering of his brain, which mostly just repeats what he said in different digital voices but occasionally also involuntarily airs what he's thinking.

Species: "This one is... machine."

Dan is a robot, apparently. He certainly doesn't look biological, though certainly no intelligent design could have gone into such a shambling mound of technology. He is constructed from random parts of technology and pieces of scrap metal, with dozens of exposed wires and loose, largely extraneous parts. His 'brain' is distributed throughout his body, residing in the dozens of computer parts scavenged from the various machines that make up his form. This distributed thought process does however leave him somewhat...scatterbrained at times.

Durable Construction (2 points): The strange and apparently slipshod way Dan is apparently constructed means he is likely to fall apart under fire, though the sheer amount of scrap bolted to him means this won't actually slow him down all that much. He can take significant punishment before his critical systems actually come under threat, though if bits of his distributed mind fall off in the meantime he might become just a little bit more deranged.
Machine Made: Dan cannot heal naturally, he can only recover health by being repaired. Fortunately, he can repair himself with just about anything.
Abominable Intelligence (3 points): As what is basically the machine equivalent of some kind of cannibal eldritch horror, other AIs find Dan to be somewhat unpleasant to be around. On the plus side, his digital mind is so bizarre that he is extremely hard to hack, and unprepared AIs who try may end up becoming unhinged themselves.
Machine Strength: Dan's robotic limbs are strong. Not extreme plasteel-rending point-spending strong, but still strong enough to be worth mentioning.
Cumbersome Traveler: Dan is ungainly and does not travel with speed. Although he can handle a brisk walking pace just fine, don't expect him to sprint anywhere.

Homeworld: "It was... so long ago... this one does not remember."

Wherever Dan first came from is as lost to time as the rest of his origin. He would very much like to analyze the last remaining fragments of his original memory, still kicking around in his neural links, and find out where his home once lay. As for more recently, he's not been planetside in several years, mostly making his home on junkers and terrible space stations on this one, living wherever his bizarre form is tolerated.

Backgrounds: "This one has been around... a long time. That... gives experience."

Jury Rigger (4 points): Dan has practical mechanical experience and can repair himself and other machines (mostly himself), as well as understand the workings of mechanical systems and the tools involved in repairwork. He can do good work with surprisingly little material, but although the things he fixes do function afterwards, they don't always work in quite the same way. Dan's experience with software work is limited, due to the fact that most computers he links with try to turn themselves inside out, so he has to use physical interfaces like a human. Repairing their hardware is usually within his skills, though.
The School of Hard Knocks (2 point): At multiple points in his long life, Dan has been chased down and thrown out of places when the local AIs found him too unpleasant to be around. In many cases, he was faced with violence. Though he can try to keep a low profile for a technological horror, scrounge parts off of technological scrap and detritus, and defend himself with his clamps and claws in melee, perhaps most surprising is...
and the University of Dakka (4 points): ...his ability to mount and use fast-firing heavy weapons. His dense and stable platform provides the support and solidity necessary to comfortably fire heavy weaponry, and the constant twitching affecting his fine aim doesn't matter as much when he's throwing fully automatic firepower at his enemies. Even when using lighter guns, Dan gets better the more ammo he can rapidly send downrange. If it shoots things that explode, even better. It saves him having to take apart mechanical enemies when he cannibalizes their scrap.

Psionics: Nope!

Magics: Despite being a technological eldritch horror, Dan is entirely mundane in composition.

Bio: "This one has been... many places in the past decades. Planets... stations... ships... most of the time having to hide... to sssscrounge from the leavings of society. But... occasionally this one is employed as a... mechanic, because of this one's sssssssskills in making the most of... what little material is available. For the last few years... until recently... this one lived aboard the Respite, aaaaaaaa mining ship operating coreward of here... but it wasssss... unsatisfying. This one does not even know where they originally... came from in the universe. This one decided to head rimward... to try and find something... better."

"Now this one finds himself... here, on this station. This one has survived... among the scrap here for about a mmmmmonth. Now... this adventure is an... opportunity. A chance to achieve... something better for this one. It is decided. This one needs to join it."

Why do you want LOADSAMONEY?: "There are many things...this one wants. Gaining some aaaaaaaarchaeotech would help this one have... a more stable platform... and a more durable, permanent body. Wealth will also help this one... afford those things. And maybe in the hoard, there is... an ancient computer that will be able to sssssort through my mind and find out... where I came from."

Inventory: "This one has... many things. All of which make up this one'sssssss form."
Heap o' Junk: Most of the bits that makes up Dan's body are metal sheets, random scrap and spare parts, long since disassociated with the original machines they came from. Most of them can be easily removed or replaced. Many of them don't even seem to serve a purpose other than armor-by-sheer-volume, and could be removed to be used as spare parts in repairs.
Arms: Dan has five. One of them quite clearly used to belong to a white plastic humanoid android, while the rest look more heavy-duty and industrial, being on the end of both jointed limbs and tentacles.
Eyestalks: Dan has three robot tentacles tipped not with a claws but with glowing red eyes. He uses them as well as his main eye cluster to get a better idea of his surroundings.
Electronic Safe: Dan has a small personal safe buried in his form. He keeps most of his small precious possessions in there that aren't part of his body.
Foam Jet: Once part of a fire extinguisher, this part allows Dan to spray fire-suppressant foam. It is a pain to refill the tank.
Alarm Clock: Deep inside Dan's bulk is an inaccessible digital alarm clock. It beeps irritatingly for three minutes every 25.4 hours, but otherwise does nothing.
Microwave: Dan has a built in microwave. It still works. Mostly by accident.

Slipshod Slugthrower: A largely jury-rigged LMG carried by Dan. Not a very accurate or reliable weapon, though it does a lot of damage for such a basic gun.
Life Savings: Stored safely in his safe, Dan has his life savings. They aren't very much.
Reflector Tarp: Perhaps the most basic ghetto las-armor out there, a reflector tarp is just a tarpaulin faced with foil that partially resists laser beams. It isn't exactly durable armor against lasers to begin with, and it offers no protection at all against most other forms of attack. Dan wears his like a cloak, largely concealing his horribleness from other robots.
Spare Parts: Dan carries a few more specific spare parts to use in repairs, in case he gets damaged or employed.
Good Luck Charm: A plastic bauble bought years ago in the shape of an alien eye. Stored by Dan in his safe. It has no use.
04-30-2016, 10:54 AM (This post was last modified: 05-03-2016 07:30 AM by Cidellus.)
Post: #7
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
[Image: red.png]

Nickname: Red
AKA: Crispy
AKA: Snowball
AKA: Killdozer "Dozer"
AKA: Happy

Age: 45

Description: Red is a large red Nusenic, surprise surprise. He stands at roughly 7'10", weighs in at about 800 pounds, and looks like a tank. He is also one of very few Nusenics capable of flight, which is strange, considering his size. His skullplate is gold with thick, short spikes lining the sides, and his horns are gold with streaks of black. His legs are digitigrade with golden claws, and his body is plated with bone plating, providing extra protection on top of the scales.

Species: Red is a Nusenic. Nusenics are a large and proud race that resemble dragons from human mythology. However, they are also a race in decline, as is most of the galaxy. The fall of the Empire led to a never-ending cascade of civil wars and chaos. The Nusenic race is now heavily-divided, and many make their livings as mercenaries and soldiers-for-hire.

Flight - 3 points
Fire breath - 1 point
Nusenic strength - 2 points
Nusenic durability - 2 points (including fire resistance)

Homeworld: Fraxis Prime, a former industrial craftworld now fallen into complete and utter war and ruin. He grew up there. Nice place. Makes a lot of tanks.


Veteran mercenary (7 points) - Red was a soldier for about a year until he went AWOL and became a merc. Then he went through some shit he doesn't like to talk about for twenty years, ended up buying a ship and hiring a crew, got into a relationship with a nice she-dragon Nusenic, and was eventually marooned on a space station by said she-dragon Nusenic. But hey, you know. Shit happens. If she calls, he's totally up for another shot.

Psionics: Not applicable.

Magics: Not applicable.

Bio: Well, most of his story is classified by order of several intergalactic corporations, governments, secret societies, a sentient solar system, and the Pope. Yes, that Pope. What is known is that he grew up on a shithole factory world called Fraxis Prime, joined a warlord army, deserted that warlord army, became a merc, did a lot of jobs for twenty or so years, bought a ship, hired a crew, and...yeah. He needs work now.

Why do you want LOADSAMONEY?: Because fuck this station, that's why.

BudgeTek WMC-2100 Wrist Computer - Basic computer. Has speech-to-text. Also has a really primitive AI that constantly thinks it's being spoken to. He couldn't figure out how to turn off the AI, so he covered the speaker port in clay. He'll pull it off later.

A bottle of Burning Brothers Fire-Whiskey - Half full

Mr. Shiv Vibrosword - The number one choice in cheap melee armament!

WarFace! Bloodmaster Supreme Mk. 60 Assault Rifle - Kinetic rifle.

2 Dr. Lightning Raycannon-12 Pistols - Semi-Automatic laser pistols

VacuGuard Mk. II Space Combat Suit - An armored space suit.

I <3 Space New York T-shirt - Hey, fuck you, it's a nice shirt.

Blue Jeans - Gotta wear something under the armor.

CampRite Hike-a-Lot Pack - Basic camping backpack

Dr. Lightning First-Aid Kit - Who woulda thought he was several different types of doctor?

A yo-yo - Yep.

Rubik's Cube - He'll figure this shit out eventually.

Space Cthulhu's Revenge - Good book.
04-30-2016, 02:44 PM (This post was last modified: 05-02-2016 12:59 PM by chimericWilder.)
Post: #8
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
[Image: 3hiZKez.jpg]

Name: Varo
Age: 46
Description: Some guy in a sleazy white shirt that seems to be a few sizes too big for him. His skintone is a faded greenish tinge, and his hairless head sports slits in place of ears and nose. His face is gaunt, lined with ridges and bears a series of darkened skinmarks around the edges in a natural pattern. His fingers are lithe and a tad elongated, and bear claws in place of nails, though they've been shaved down. Unlike the rest of his form, which is scrawny at best, his digitigrade legs are thick and powerful and look fit to outrun most of anything, and they are emphasized further by the black combat plating covering them, like a pair of bionic legs - they're the only thing about him that seems to actually be in a good condition. On his back, he carries a variety of other equipment, most of it in poor repair.
Species: Valin: A superstitious race that was, until a few hundred years back, little more than primitive savannah folk, hunting and killing animals for food and praying to nameless gods for protection. That all changed when outside forces decided they wanted the Valin homeworld, Arrakt Njal, for themselves, with the purpose of harvesting its rich resources. Over time, some Valin came to work together with the starwalkers and gradually learned their ways. Eventually, some even ventured out amongst the stars themselves. Ofcourse, both the starwalkers and those who would associate with them are seen by many less-adaptable Valin simply as dangerous enemies, to be avoided at all cost.
Flash Sprint: Valin are incredibly gifted runners, able to outpace most other creatures both over short and long distances. This is further emphatized by the Valin ability to use innate magic to temporarily boost their speed to ridiculous heights for an instant, allowing them to close great distances in a single moment. Ofcourse, misuse of this talent is just as likely to leave the Valin drained and exhausted, or crushed against a wall.
[4 Points]
Homeworld: Arrakt Njal: A lush world, dominated primarily by hills, rivers, grasslands and everything in between. Arrakt Njal has few true oceans, but is nevertheless host to a quite a lot of water, most of it hidden in great underground caves or other deep ravines. Arrakt Njal is also known for its merciless and highly destructive storms, said by the locals to be the wrath of gods.
Backgrounds: Theurgic Tech Modder: Varo combines rudimentary engineering knowledge with an uncanny ability to tweak and modify a piece of technology until it can inexplicably perform feats beyond what it should be capable of. Ofcourse, these improvements somehow seem to only work when Varo is the one holding the technical gizmo, or for a short time afterwards. Probably because magic is involved.
Tech Savvy: Varo possesses basic knowledge on how to repair, maintain, disassemble and reassemble a variety of things, but his skills lie primarily in repurposing existing technology - he has no idea how to build any of the complicated parts himself.
[2 Points]
Psionics: Nope
Magics: Varo uses an odd variety of latent magic and technical tricks to make his equipment perform beyond what it should be physically able to. However, he seems to only be able to apply one trick to each piece of equipment at a time, and while switching from one to another is quick, it becomes a real hassle in the middle of a firefight.
Tricks include:
Overdrive: Whatever piece of tech it is, Varo can make it run faster and better, or spit out bigger, badder explosions.
Miracle Fix: Whatever the guy did to that old piece of junk, it seems to keep working for as long as he stays close.
Uncanny Recalibration: A few adjustments somehow allows Varo to fire curving lasers, land unbelievably accurate shots and lob explosives that always seem to detonate right when he wants them to - all that sort of thing, really. This all presumably thanks to a handful of tweaks or a few amateurish lines of code added to the targeting system. Also has other accuracy-related uses that dont involve blowing things up.
Power Link: Got a plasma gun and a shield generator? Varo can link their power sources up and get a supercharged plasma gun out of it, or an extra-durable shield. Just dont bother asking how he manages this - he'll just claim that he's got a real neat power converter. If so, it seems to work even on fundamentaly different energy sources.
[9 Points]
Bio: Varo grew up with an intense fascination for the starwalkers and the technology they displayed, and spent most of his youth pestering whoever he could get away with about the outside world. It was no surprise, then, when he inevitably left with one of the mining shuttles to explore that world, sparing hardly a thought for the world he left behind. Ofcourse, the reality has since then proven to be somewhat less glamorous than expected, as evidenced by the years Varo has spent scamming, cheating and working his ass off just to make do in intergalactic society - he's spent several years as a salvage dealer just to feed himself. Even so, he firmly believes that technology is the truest expression of the form of the nameless gods, and, having heard tales of ancient lost technology unknown even to these other miserable dregs, he has determined that he will set out on a journey to find this lost technology, that he might learn the secrets of the gods.

Ofcourse, he has no idea how to go about that.

Despite being a greasestained, clueless throwaway, he believes himself a monk on a journey of self-realization. The poor guy simply doesnt know better.
Why do you want LOADSAMONEY?: Money seems like a good way to acquire neat tech. Better than stealing, anyway.
"Upgraded" Plasma 'Nade Launcher: A fairly large weapon cobbled together from bits and pieces of other guns to form something that resembles a working weapon. Sacrifices range and accuracy for pure firepower. Tested, but never actually used in combat. Usually Overcharged.
Toolbox of spare parts: An ornate toolbox he was given as a gift back home.
BioChro Leg Enhancers: Essentially just a pair of really fancy armored pants. They dont do much of any actual enhancing, but they're really comfortable to run in and might provide some basic defense. Also good for kicking things with. May or may not be recently stolen.
Throwaway Shield-emitter: A broken shield-emitter that can be activated to create an immobile but powerful shield large enough to hide behind. Or rather, thats what it would do if it wasnt broken. Miracle-Fix'd, obviously.
Overly large shirt: It may have spent a little too long in a garbage bin, but its better than the alternative.
Old ragged shirt: This is the alternative, just about ready to fall apart.
Laser pen: Somebody threw out this perfectly fine laser pointer. It makes for a shitty backup weapon when Overcharged, a fine lightsource when Power Linked, and the perfect tool for shining at stuff indirectly when Recalibrated. Because thats a thing that will prove useful.
Depleted Force Rocket: Might have been somebody's attempt at developing a jetpack. Kind of useless without an energy source, and would probably be unsafe anyway.
A blanket: All the other stuff gets wrapped up in this and carried around. Also functions as an actual blanket.
04-30-2016, 08:00 PM (This post was last modified: 05-12-2016 07:51 AM by Anomaly.)
Post: #9
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Name: LC-001-X (“LC” or “THE CHEF” WILL DO)

Age: 103 years


“Here’s a little treasure for you.

Heavily-rusted, worn-down culinary robot. Yeah, culinary. Some kind of robotic chef, almost a century old. Uncovered in the ruins of some old space colony. Nice place, ‘til it was wiped from the face of the galaxy. At least something survived. Crazy stuff, right? Here’s some specs.

Torso contains a high-temperature furnace, door on front. Five (5) telescoping appendages (two beyond repair). All intact limbs have mostly-functional graspers on them. Bipedal design, two humanoid legs. Surprisingly high mobility, though heavily worn down. Head looks to be a rectangular display of some sort, still functional but cracked. Probably not that expensive to replace. Metal chef hat welded to the top of it, for some reason, bent out of shape.

Needs heavy repairs. Onboard reactor’s shot, limbs barely work, and the thing won’t even run on emergency power. A nice relic, could run you a high price if repaired right.

Your pal,


[6 points from robotic chassis. It’s been mostly repaired, and is armored far more than a chef really needs to be. The arms are also especially dexterous, for cooking purposes. That oven also gets much, much hotter than it needs to be. It’d be a shame if those flames were to get out. Finally, has an onboard reactor and a wide array of cooking scanners.]




[Cooking and Fine Dining: fluff skill (no points)]


[Engineering Prowess: 3 points]




Psionics: GOOD JOKE. HA HA.













5x Meat Cleaver
1x Professional Knife Set
1x Knife Sharpener
1x Cutting Board
3x Frying Pan
1x Wok
4x Spatula
1x Tongs
1x Blow Torch
1x Colander
2x Corkscrew
1x Cheese Grater
1x Ladle
1x Meat Grinder
3x Meat Tenderizer
1x Pizza Cutter
2x Rolling Pin
1x Whisk
1x Juicer
1x Food Processor
3x Cookie Sheet
05-01-2016, 05:31 AM (This post was last modified: 05-02-2016 05:03 PM by Vancho1.)
Post: #10
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
[Image: Dahlia.png]

Name: "Dahlia"

Age: 3

Description: A large insectoid creature with a fuzzy abdomen and translucent wings. Dahlia stands at five feet, two inches, and has banded yellow and brown coloration. She wears a loose-fitting gown made of what appears to be silk, and her eyes glitter beneath a crystalline plating.

Species: Likthar-

The Likthar are large insectoid creatures similar in appearance to Earthling honey-bees. They form colonies controlled by a single queen and fly through space in organic ships. They're generally xenophobic and don't have much contact with other sentient races. The queen of a colony has some psychic powers to ensure her control over the hive. As they communicate mostly through pheromones, their speech-skills are rather underdeveloped.

Stinger [2 Points] - The Likthar all have a very sharp and venomous stinger in their lower bodies, and unlike bees, they are not barbed so they can be retracted. Useless at long-range, but a deadly weapon capable of piercing some armors up-close.

Chitinous Armor [1 Point] - The Likthar have a natural exoskeleton which protect them from some of the dangers of space.

Homeworld: Colony 2X34B in forbidden sector Gamma-9:

This colony-hive is one of the ones under observation by some of the more careful species in the galaxy. It is not that different from other hives, but its drone-ships have been known to attack trade lanes.


Medic [5 Points] - Dahlia was a worker specializing in keeping the rest of the colony patched up and in-shape. She can secrete substances compatible with most organics, and is a skilled healer. Just don't let her add things to your biology...

Organic Mechanic [4 Points] - Dahlia's passion is for genetic and biological tinkering. If you find any bio-tech around, she'll probably be able to repair it, use it, and improve it. She can even make genetic and biological modifications to any crewmembers, though the potential long-term effects of this meddling are unknown.

Psionics: Y - Mindshield [3 Points]

Dahlia's mindshield ability has two modes, passive and active:

In passive mode, she can resist psychic compulsions and can detect psychic activity around her. In active mode, she can project a mental shield of psionic energy, protecting her allies from both physical and mental harm.

Magics: None.

Bio: Dahlia was just a regular Likthar worker, once upon a time. She was laid by her queen, hatched and pupated, fed nectar, and raised to serve the hive. Her primary function was to make sure the colony ran smoothly - she repaired their ship and the other workers, and helped make sure everything was in top condition. She lived as all her sisters did, to serve the queen. And yet, whenever the queen gave an order, she always followed a little more slowly. The Queen's psychic compulsion had less and less effect on her as time passed, and soon she began having independent thoughts. She started using what little time off she had to sit and think for herself, and she realized that maybe a life of servitude wasn't for her. She began tinkering with the hive's technology, managing to sequester away materials for her own private projects. Eventually, quite by accident, she made a small radio, and her eyes were opened to the world.

At first, the tinny sounds coming from the device were incomprehensible to her, but she soon began working on figuring out the outsiders' form of communication. She learned that there were entire civilizations outside the hive, and she became determined to see them with her own eyes. She squirreled away more and more materials, a plan hatching in her mind. She carefully constructed an escape pod from the hive's outer wall, pushing it out slowly so as to not be noticed. In the meantime, she started experimenting on her fellow workers when she wasn't being supervised, enhancing their genetics with her own, attempting to share her power to resist their queen's compulsions. Little by little, she sowed dissent in the hive, all the while planning her escape.

When her pod was complete, she put her plan into motion. All it took was one missing supervisor (whose body she hid in one of the maintenance tunnels) and a few words to cause chaos on the main deck of the hive. While the Queen's enforcers worked to put down the revolt, she launched her pod towards the nearest tradelane and starting transmitting what she hoped was a distress signal. Needless to say, her rescuers were more than a little surprised. In fact, they almost killed her - two plasma bolts slammed into the pod behind her, frying all the useful materials. In broken galactic common, she pleaded for her life, and thankfully, after many ear-piercing repetitions of "please no kill", she managed to convince them that she meant them no harm.

After that, well, she almost got dissected at the space station, and realized quite too late that she was broke (and coincidentally at the same time, the concept of money), and decided that this job would be her best shot at seeing the world, and also not getting herself dissected.

Why do you want LOADSAMONEY?: Because apparently people outside the hive really like money? Also, to be able to see the whole galaxy.


Bio-Organic Medical Tools - Salvaged from the hive, these can fix up almost any organic creature.

Space Nectar - The Likthar's food-source. She has a few jugs left from her stash.

Biological Radio - Sounds like shit, but has no electronic components. Can be used to listen to stuff.

Organic Scrap - What remains of her escape pod. Mostly junk, but with a lot of work, maybe Dahlia can use it to make some useful bio-organic tech.

The one, the only, Vancho!
05-01-2016, 02:42 PM (This post was last modified: 05-03-2016 06:24 PM by Protoman.)
Post: #11
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
[Image: tXcekvz.png]

Name: APOLLO日光の男99 (Apollo for short, Paul for his friends.)

Age: Twenty three.

Description: APOLLO日光の男99 looks like a moving marble statue wearing sunglasses and a backwards baseball cap. He also wears ironic t-shirts and jeans, sometimes.

Species: The Aestherians - Apollo comes from a species of sentient marble statues. Their hard exterior is matched only by their hard interior. They're pretty good at melee combat, but having rocks for eyes makes it hard to aim, so they're not great at ranged fighting. They also tend to lack the motivation to do anything aside from creating HYPE-ASS SEMI-IRONIC JAMS.

Homeworld: Apollo hails from the planet ZYGORVIAS, a world that never culturally advanced past the nineties. Ruled by the evil dictator BILLクリントン93-00, the people of Zygorvias are pacified by his SAX MUSIC and AESTHETICALLY PLEASING ADVERTISEMENTS as BILL wages an ETERNAL RESOURCE WAR on a nearby planet. The people mostly think this is lame, but they're too nihilistic, depressed, or apathetic to really do anything about it.

Backgrounds: Music producer, DJ, served four years in the Beam Samurai Corps.

[BEAM SAMURAI CORPS: 3 points, competency in a variety of melee weapons. The Beam Samurai are really good at hitting things with other things in an aesthetically pleasing manner.]

[SWORD MASTER: 7 points, REALLY GOOD AT SWORDS. Like, bizarrely good, even for a Beam Samurai. He says it's because he watches a lot of anime.]

[QUICK ON THE DRAW: 1 point, slightly faster than average and quick reaction time. The Beam Samurai are trained to be faster than expected, which isn't saying much since they're rocks, but hey.]

Psionics: Nah.

Magics: Yes. Can magically create doubles of himself and sometimes lights and sounds too. Usually used for shows and stuff, but I guess it could be used for combat too, if he's got to.

[SHADOW CLONES: 4 points, can summon duplicates that are capable of causing damage but will disappear the moment they receive damage.]

Bio: APOLLO was born on Zygorvias under BILL's reign of terror. He grew up with the realities of wealth inequality, hard-to-afford college tuition, and bad job prospects as an every day reality. It was sort of a bummer.

When he turned 18, he was drafted into the Beam Samurai Corps. where he met a fellow soldier named SHINJI明日香村93. SHINJI taught him techniques that improved his RADICAL TUNES at least tenfold and allowed him to better express his apathy toward the shallow lies of the capitalist system. Feeling he owed SHINJI for this, APOLLO accepted an offer from his friend to join the ANTI-BILL RESISTANCE, mostly because he was pretty sure it wouldn't take much work.

Unfortunately, his name was drawn from a hat and upon leaving service he was ordered to take part in a mission to leave the planet and get a lot of money to overthrow capitalism. Fairly peeved but accepting the fairness of a totally random system, APOLLO agreed.

Clearly it hasn't gone well so far. The young statue-man was never good at managing his money, so after some bungled purchases he was forced to sell his ship for fuel and now he's stuck here.

Why do you want LOADSAMONEY?: To overthrow capitalism and stuff, I guess. I dunno. He just wants to make SICK BANGERS, but if he gets to overthrow BILL too that would be sort of cool.

Inventory: Sunglasses, beam katana, jeans, ironic t-shirt collection, laptop with loads of PIRATED MUSIC EDITING SOFTWARE.
05-02-2016, 08:44 AM (This post was last modified: 05-02-2016 08:46 AM by MQuinny1234.)
Post: #12
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Name: Alice Houzam

Age: 16

5 foot 10, pretty tall for a young girl. Ash blonde hair, seemingly grey at the tips, tied into a ponytail reaching down to the middle of her back. Wears a mixture of typically...Picture Doctor Strange and formal wear together, like, if stage magicians looked dapper and went to a private school? Professional and magic. So a lot of pitch black and stark white with pale green trim. Her eyes are the same pale green shade, like grass at the end of summer, always wears white gloves, keeps top button done up, laces tied perfectly, shirt tucked in, etc.

Species:Human (ish)
In her world, humans are much more naturally skilled in magic. It's much easier for her to pick up new magical skills and understand it than most natives in this dimension. 2 points.

Homeworld: Comes from a dimension where magic and science are flipped around in common nature, space ships fly with magic, medicine is magic, entertainment is magic, sentient constructs are fueled by magic, etc. Rumours of crazy science exists, following strange rules these "scientists" can do incredible things with a wide range of power. They have their own tomes of knowledge detailing their arts and own strange languages and codes.

Backgrounds: Stage Magician 4 points
Oddly enough, stage magicians are a popular thing in Alice's world. People still enjoy trying to figure out how it's been done, and the art of grabbing people's attention and deception and performance still cuts a charasmatic figure. The truly great stage magicians can do fantastic tricks without any magic at all, akin to minor scientists even.
This background gives some skill at matters such as planning, construction, performance, and sleight of hand.

Crazed Scientist 2 points
Alice actually does in fact know some dangerous science, her uncle, the world's most famous stage magician bequethed her his science book in his will, when she was very young. She tore over it, memorizing it's pages. This background gives some skills at chemistry and physics and even fine technology.

Psionics: What the hell are Psionics?

Magics: 7 points.

So yeah, pulling bunnies from hats? Whatever. Picking out your card from a deck? Childs play.

Minor spells and cantrips are easy. She spent years at school learning spells and stuff, but when it comes to the real impressive stuff, Alice is real good at illusions and conjuration. Pretty classic power combo. Make an army of flying lions, throw in a couple of real ones for some real chaos. Outside of that, some minor skill in divination and evocation. Reading basic future, finding lost things, doable. Lightning and fireballs, I mean, she's not a battle wizard but knows some self-defensive magic, better than some fools for don't prepare for that kind of thing. It's a dangerous world.

Bio: TBD

Why do you want LOADSAMONEY?: TBD

Inventory: TBD

“One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered.” - Doctor Impossible
05-03-2016, 05:08 AM
Post: #13
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Tick Tock

05-03-2016, 09:58 AM (This post was last modified: 05-03-2016 01:45 PM by Acolyte Doctor.)
Post: #14
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
[Image: tumblr_o6fwibt57a1r9tn94o5_r1_400.png]

Name: Fredrick "Fido" Moonfang

Age: 24

Description: A human-looking dude in a space-mercenary’s outfit. Other than the more than usual amount of hairiness, his non-humanness is less appearance wise and more behavioral. He has a tendency to shift uncomfortably, constantly stares at people, but hates when people stare back at him. He is naturally suspicious of anything supernatural but otherwise, he is pretty decent as far as random recruits go.

Species: Manimal (Transhuman). Fido is a hardened descendant of genetically-modified humans, more specifically humans who genetically modified themselves to emulate various animals they admired in the past. As a result, Fido has access of a limited but potent set of skills that give him a ferocious edge in the post-Devourer environment.

[1] Nimble – Fido can jump high in the air, climb sheer surfaces, toe rocky areas, maneuver between pointy objects, and so on. Basically, anything else that requires more than average dexterity.
[1] Exceptional Constitution – Despite their ridiculous appearances, Manimal-Transhumans are notoriously hard to bring down and even if they go down, it doesn’t take much time to bring them back up.
[2] Dual-Minded – While Fido might not be as cosmetically pretty as his ancestors, the larger proportion of non-human genes he has contributes to his “spiritual” health, giving him sort of a buffer against mind-effecting attacks.

Homeworld: Fido is a space vagrant, like most of his kind. Manimals formerly lived in a planet called Ark-Haven, which was known for its cutting-edge genetech and its artistic - if insufferably elitist culture. Ark-Haven is one of the planets destroyed in the Grand Fuckup but there may be medical miracles (and dangers) in its remains.

Fido has a long history, even with the long history of his particular type of transhumans.

[1] Ex-Member of the Moreau Cult – Fido was a former member of an apocalyptic eco-cult who believed that the Grand Fuckup was due to excess of civilizations and it would be only best if the entire universe went back to a natural state devoid of any cities and towns. He left due to ideological differences but at least got some martial training out of it. He is competent in weaponry but prefers ballistic weaponry as his choice.
[1] Appeal to Nature - Contrary to popular belief, Manimals don't have an innate connection to nature but they are strong believers in the concept of conservation. Fido is a fountain of natural knowledge and knows how to deal with potentially dangerous animals.
[2] Universal Doctor – Manimals have a motley amount of physiologies, so it is often paramount to make sure first-aid is suitable for trans-species use. While his talents are extremely overshadowed by more specialized and skilled doctors, Fido can safely administer medicine, operate surgeries, and provide triage without silly things in the way like “alien biology” or “different chemical makeup.”
[3] Drug Dealer – Fido manufactures and peddles illicit substances. While he is skilled enough to make more legal things like actual medicine, he usually uses it to make bathtub gin and potent narcotics. He is not exactly the proudest of it but money doesn’t earn itself in space, you know?
[2] Improvised Technician – Fido can complete minor fixes and stopgap technological problems beyond his competence level. He can also pilot ships and operate heavy weaponry to a competent degree, but don’t expect any amazing stunts out of him. He’s too nervous for that.

[1] Psionic Detection – Fido can sense the presence of psychic entities and activity. Although he can’t pinpoint the exact location, he can sense what type of psionics it is (mind control, buffing, etc).

[1] Magical Detection – Fido can sense the presence of magical entities and activity. Although he can’t pinpoint the exact location, he can at least sense what type of magic it is (enchantment, spells, etc).

Fido had a feeling life was not dealing well. He was born of two unknown refugees in the station and spent most of his childhood drifting from bloc to bloc - scavenging from garbage, peddling drugs, and ultimately got indoctrinated to a cult of jerks. He escaped but he was back to square one, moderately addicted and homeless on the streets. Fortunately, there was some captain who was recruiting people to look for Old Spacebeard’s treasure, and the rewards were quite handsome…

Fido had immense doubts about the veracity, let alone the existence, of this 200-year-old myth. He was not even sure if it was going to have a high chance of success. But when you’re hunted down by an angry cult led by a self-styled “druid” and you have no particular connections, you’re going to take any chance you can. Plus, it’s just a treasure hunt. What can go wrong?

Why do you want LOADSAMONEY? Well, um, Fido is addicted to Situ - short for "Humanity In-Situ" a pill-form narcotic that brings a feeling of euphoric numbness and confidence. The drug is addicting and Fido kind of needs the money to assuage his addiction. Or it couldn't hurt to buy more...

Generic armor
Light ballistic firearm
5 packs of ammo
3 days of clothes
6 packs of lint-rollers
3 bottles of Situ drugs
Pack of matches
Half-pack of cigarettes
Hand sanitizer
Personal computer
05-05-2016, 08:28 AM
Post: #15
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Chapter One - Ghetto Gotta Git Gone

[Image: 1.png]

The Morning found eleven volunteers eager, or stupid enough to show up for the eccentric ship captain's crew for the mad treasure hunting expedition that sounded altogether too good to be true.

Each of them had signed up for the ship manifest as soon as they could. In fact, yesterday. And they all had been immediately selected as acceptable candidates.

Which is odd, usually whenever some captain goes hunting for new meat for the grinder they usually have their rosters open for days for the desperate and the gullable - which certainly none of the fine persons gathered here could be called, no sir - before inevitably resorting to shanghaing the luckless drunks and homeless.

But then, most captains aren't the sort promising treasure. This one seems eager to leave and soon as possible. But even so, the guard had reliably informed them it'd be some time before the captain could come down with the unlock codes to open the shutter doors and exit onto the docking platforms so that left the mismatched collection of station trash to mingle in tense silence for a while before they actually met the man they were signing up to.

At least the seats were nice.

05-05-2016, 08:48 AM
Post: #16
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Red was cleaning the guns he had just acquired by totally legitimate means.

"Cleeeaaanin' m'guuuuuns," he hummed quietly to himself, rocking his head back and forth. "Cleeeeanin' m'guuuuuuns...doooodoooodeedooooooo..."
05-05-2016, 08:49 AM
Post: #17
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
The guard's face could not be seen but it was clear from his stiff posture he did not want to be here.

05-05-2016, 08:59 AM
Post: #18
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
The cloaked pile of scrap in the corner beeped and muttered quietly. An eyestalk snaked out from the silvery cloak, surveying the room with a single red-lit eye.

"Who are... all these people," the pile of junk muttered to itself. "People donnnnnn't apply this fast. Where's the captain..?"

Eventually it resolved to withdraw its eyestalk and judder across the room with a metallic scraping and clicking. Positioning itself behind the large right-angled plush seating, it peered over from within its rough cowl, looking at the three figures seated on it. Two were aliens of some kind, while one was a fellow robot.

"Who are you..?" it murmured, addressing all three of them with the broken tones of whispering metal.
05-05-2016, 09:01 AM (This post was last modified: 05-05-2016 09:03 AM by Vancho1.)
Post: #19
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Dahlia was feeling afraid and alone.

If there were other Likthar on the station, they'd be able to smell the unease coming off of her from miles away. But there weren't, at least as far as she had understood from the guard at the spaceport's argument with her rescuers/captors. She wasn't quite sure how they felt about her - their scents were strange and unfamiliar, and although she quickly grasped that they expressed themselves through the contortions of their facial muscles, she had no idea about how to read them. Eventually, they let her free. And since then, Dahlia had been lost in a state of confusion.

Currently, she was sitting in a corner, trying to hide the fact that she was sipping space nectar from a small globule of wax. The last place she'd tried to sit had kicked her out over it, something about "outside drinks", whatever that meant. She was also smelling the room around her, trying to get a sense of who she'd be travelling with. She sat silently, her antennae twitching occasionally, and tried not to attract any attention.

The one, the only, Vancho!
05-05-2016, 09:03 AM
Post: #20
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
"Dooobeeedoboooooo, cleeanin' some guuuuuuuns...mmmhmmmhmhmhmhmhmhmammmhmmmmm..."

Red continued cleaning his guns while gleefully humming to himself.
05-05-2016, 09:08 AM (This post was last modified: 05-05-2016 09:09 AM by Protoman.)
Post: #21
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
It had been twenty minutes since Apollo arrived, and it had already been too long. Trying to stave off the ever-present oblivion of utter boredom, Apollo took a seat next to the big red dragon guy.

"Hey there, big guy. Those are some sweet guns you've got there. I heard that tune you were humming, that's some musical genius right there. You seem like the kind of guy who's interested in dank beats and generalized chillness. I've got a mix tape here, guaranteed to help you relax and forget the fact that you're trapped in a consumerist culture that will break down your soul and take everything from you by the time you've reached adulthood. Just one credit, or for free if you want, I guess, I'm not an extortionist or anything. I've got it on eight-track, CD, DVD, MP3, radiowave, bottled, canned, boxed, and a format I've been working on that can only be heard by amoebae. It's this really experimental stuff I've been working on lately, you might like it."
05-05-2016, 09:13 AM
Post: #22
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
For about the last ten minutes, there'd been a powerful aroma wafting over the room. Something sweet, a rare smell on this shithole of a station. The heavy, rusted robot in the chef's hat stood perfectly still near the middle of the room, its broken face flickering with a picture of a clock, slowly ticking down. It hummed rather loudly to itself, entirely ignoring its surroundings. Until, breaking the uncomfortable air, came a...


The door on the front of the robot flung itself open, and an oven mitt-clad appendage pulled out a tray covered in green-brown cookies. The smell grew much stronger. The image on the robot's screen flickered and shifted, turning into a picture of a rather stereotypical chef. The robot held up the tray, procuring a spatula with one of its other hands, and began speaking in a voice that had clearly lost any semblance of volume control decades before.

05-05-2016, 09:15 AM (This post was last modified: 05-05-2016 09:16 AM by Cidellus.)
Post: #23
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Red looked over at Apollo.

"Oh, right, 'dank beats,'", Red said, winking.

Must be some softcore hallucinogenic psychological sound bullshit the kids were trying these days.

"More of the 'get smashed, take my suit off, streak down mainhall, vomit in the water fountain, and gamble away a cat I found before inevitably being arrested for indecent exposure' guy myself," Red explained before shrugging. "But hey."

He then looked towards chefbot.

"Oh, sweet! Cookies!"
05-05-2016, 09:15 AM
Post: #24
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
[Image: 2.png]

05-05-2016, 09:18 AM
Post: #25
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone

LC, annoyed that Red had ignored its instruction to form a single-file line, elected to walk over to the side of the table and offer the tray. "TAKE ONE, NUSENIC. I HOPE YOU ARE MORE APPRECIATING OF FINE DINING THAN SOME."
05-05-2016, 09:20 AM
Post: #26
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Red took a cookie and tried it.

"Thanks, uh, robot. You got a name?"
05-05-2016, 09:25 AM
Post: #27
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Leaning up against the wall, Wutzu was focusing on using one of his wristbands to make string figures, and nodding his head along to the humming of the scaled creature. Paying some semi-attention to the other inhabitants of the room of course, surprised to see that bundle of scraps was a bot.

He deftly wrapped back his wristband as the chef-bot came out, and walked over to the table. "Snacks? May I?" he asked, reaching for a cookie.

“One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered.” - Doctor Impossible
05-05-2016, 09:25 AM (This post was last modified: 05-05-2016 09:26 AM by Anomaly.)
Post: #28
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Chef's head swiveled to face Wutzu. It slid a spatula under a cookie and dumped it into his hand. "BON APPETIT."

The cookie was... edible, at least, which was pretty damn good considering the usual meal on this station was "imitation recycled soy protein". Possibly with a side of mold. By comparison the cookie was downright delicious. It almost tasted like it had chocolate chips in it, though what it was actually made of it was better to not ask.

"MY NAME?" There was a long pause, as Chef's screen flickered to static. "LC-001-X. LC IF YOU WANT TO BE INFORMAL. OR 'CHEF'."
05-05-2016, 09:28 AM
Post: #29
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
[Image: 3.png]

People chase cookies.

The cleaner moves to the other side of the table.

05-05-2016, 09:29 AM (This post was last modified: 05-05-2016 09:30 AM by Protoman.)
Post: #30
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
(05-05-2016 09:15 AM)Cidellus Wrote:  Red looked over at Apollo.

"Oh, right, 'dank beats,'", Red said, winking.

Must be some softcore hallucinogenic psychological sound bullshit the kids were trying these days.

"More of the 'get smashed, take my suit off, streak down mainhall, vomit in the water fountain, and gamble away a cat I found before inevitably being arrested for indecent exposure' guy myself," Red explained before shrugging. "But hey."

He then looked towards chefbot.

"Oh, sweet! Cookies!"

This guy was clearly super lame. Apollo vowed then and there to ironically pledge himself to this middle aged dragon guy until it stopped being funny. "Nah, man," he explained, "I'm not talking about riding the soundcloud. I'm talking about bangers. I'm talking about the shit that makes organic asses bounce. We're talking some classic soft-jazz tunes slowed down to the point where they sound like music from an empty nightmare hellscape devoid of life, but like, not in a tortuous way or anything, just sort of relaxed and with a lot of neon lights plastered across it, like an anemic discotheque where everyone's still dancing but no one's having fun." The sort of music that reminded Apollo of home.

He followed the dragon to the cookies, fully prepared to solve the mystery of whether or not a statue could eat.
05-05-2016, 09:29 AM
Post: #31
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Dahlia's antennae smelled something interesting. A very intriguing scent was emerging from one of the metal things (which usually smelled really boring). She hid her nectar and walked over to it, extending a feeler towards the cookies.

"What is? Want."

The one, the only, Vancho!
05-05-2016, 09:31 AM
Post: #32
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
LC immediately shifted the tray away from Dahlia before she could touch them.

05-05-2016, 09:33 AM
Post: #33
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Dahlia turned her head to one side.

"Single file? What mean?"

The one, the only, Vancho!
05-05-2016, 09:35 AM
Post: #34
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
The Devil in the corner staunchly ignores cookie mania, It would't be a chance for a job unless some person's stomach started melting.. obviously the robot would need a lawyer then. Maybe he could sell him some coal with some spiel about traditional hell cuisine, chefs love that stuff

For now however Donavan is engrossed in reading trough a few gossip rags
05-05-2016, 09:35 AM
Post: #35
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
"Oh, this ain't drugmusic? All right, fuck it, I'm down," said Red, looking to Apollo. "Only music player I have is this archaic piece of shit, though."

He raised his right arm, mounted to which was a wrist-computer that was clearly a century or two old. And not in a good way.
05-05-2016, 09:36 AM
Post: #36
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
"One at a time. Chef doesn't want to be crowded." Wutzu said, opening his lower mask to nibble on his cookie.

"Delicious." he said, between tine bites. "Excellent work Chef."

“One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered.” - Doctor Impossible
05-05-2016, 09:36 AM (This post was last modified: 05-05-2016 09:36 AM by Anomaly.)
Post: #37
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
"ARE YOU SERIOUS." Chef's face shifted to display something like this. "IT MEANS WAIT YOUR TURN. ...WHICH HAPPENS TO BE NOW. HERE."

Chef dropped a cookie into Dahlia's... hands? Did she have hands? It offered a cookie toward whatever appendages she might have been able to take it with.

05-05-2016, 09:37 AM
Post: #38
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
[Image: 4.png]

Cookie Mania continues unabated.

The cleaner moves around the dog person.

05-05-2016, 09:40 AM
Post: #39
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Dahlia backed away and smelled the cookie carefully. Its starchy and crumbly texture was nothing like the nourishment she had eaten in her colony. She analyzed its chemistry to see if it was compatible with her own, and if it was she would consume it.

The one, the only, Vancho!
05-05-2016, 09:42 AM (This post was last modified: 05-05-2016 09:43 AM by Protoman.)
Post: #40
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Apollo grabbed one of the scrumptious treats while the chef was distracted and took a bite, allowing the crumbs to fall uselessly to the ground as they were crushed by his lips.

"Wow, that's some retro shit, man. I love it - totally suits your aesthetic." He plugged a USB into the device and let it download. "You seem like a cool guy. Nice to meet you. My name's APOLLO日光の男99, but you can stick with Apollo or Paul. What sorts of jobs do you work? Looking at you I get the waste management vibe, but I've been off before." In fact, he'd been off every time he'd tried to guess another person's profession. Still, it wasn't like it took effort or anything, so it was worth a shot.
05-05-2016, 09:42 AM
Post: #41
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Dahlia could not make sense of the creation before her.

It seemed an odd jumble of vaguely edible material that had been heated for some reason. She could not tell if it was good for her or not. But it smelled fascinating

05-05-2016, 09:46 AM
Post: #42
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
"Eh, shoot things for a living. Close enough," Red said. "People call me Red, or whatever else they want to call me."
05-05-2016, 09:47 AM
Post: #43
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
LC's monitor swiveled in place to look at Apollo, making a suitably sinister face.

05-05-2016, 09:48 AM
Post: #44
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
"Been a long time since I had actually cooked food, and even longer since something professional." He finished it off and slotted his lower part back on. "Nutrient tubes really begin to become tedious without an odd delight. Thank you."

"Oh." He stepped back away from this scene. Hard to tell with lone robots what they could do.

“One day you wake up and realize the world can be conquered.” - Doctor Impossible
05-05-2016, 09:48 AM
Post: #45
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
The guard turns to look in the direction of LC. His visor turns a tinted green.

05-05-2016, 09:48 AM
Post: #46
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Curiosity overcame Dahlia's caution, and her mandibles drew the cookie into her mouth.

The one, the only, Vancho!
05-05-2016, 09:48 AM
Post: #47
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Apollo waves to the robot with the hand holding the half-destroyed cookie. "Me."
05-05-2016, 09:49 AM
Post: #48
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
The cookie was the most wonderful thing she had ever tasted before in her life.

She was pretty sure she could now feel rainbows.

05-05-2016, 09:50 AM
Post: #49
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Chef leaned its monitor very close to Apollo. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING, STONE MAN?"
05-05-2016, 09:52 AM (This post was last modified: 05-05-2016 09:52 AM by Protoman.)
Post: #50
RE: Frontier Fucked - Chapter 1: Ghetto Gotta Git Gone
Apollo shrugged. "Eating a cookie. You invited us to have at it, right? It's a pretty good cookie, I guess."

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