cat danny 25

You rolled below 5. Prepare to assume the position.

d6

Your free action is nullified by the Xalforce. Roll for PK chance.

how to pad your post count 101

I advocate for SM and CIC to belong to the same person, but I still think that a secondary position who is capable of stepping up in similar fashion to a vice pres' would be a good idea. There's no reason for a system of government machinated from the remnants of an internal collapse to not have a back up plan until a new elect is chosen.

Your doppelganger Hilmarsdottir

Oh, hey. It's a fast thread. I have the license to shitpost. Imagine posting 1000 times and nobody cares, but you have real niggas like @J. Jordan with like 5 posts and they're all meaningful.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chronology; Part One Part Two Part Three ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- March 11th, 2298 Outskirts of Karnak, Lombard, Kaiser-II Yael Avraham, Staff Sergeant “Sergeant! I need your SAW set up on the ridgeline to our left, or we’re gonna’ get pinned down!” Yael shouted as she pointed off towards their left flank. Grizzly team along with a platoon of infantrymen were scouring the glassed remains of downtown Karnak after the Kaiser-II massacre. The Staff Sergeant shouldered the low wall beside Keira, gripping her Mark Three hard enough that her knuckles would have been white beneath the gloves she had on. “Slade! Get your ass over to the left flank! Take McLaughlin with you, he’s got the spare drums!” the Sergeant shouted as several plasma payloads hit the trench that the group was dug into. Yael was a Staff Sergeant put in-charge of the expedition. They’d been assaulted by a Progenitor garrison. Intel had predicted low chance of contact, with the planet having been dark for so long. Boy, were they ever wrong. March 9th, 2298 Outskirts of Karnak, Lombard, Kaiser-II Yael Avraham, Staff Sergeant “I stared deep into that darkness. Peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming, dreaming dreams no mortal being ever dared to dream before. Edgar Allan Poe sure did have a way with words, I figured. It was a quiet night on Kaiser. My partner Sebastian and I were stationed on overwatch, waiting for the glowsticks to make the push we were all waiting for. It had been approximately seventy-two hours since our arrival. The Forty-First Pathfinder Corps was already boots on the ground prior to our arrival. They’d called for reinforcements after the planet was blockaded by the Ark. Grizzly team and the 89th ID were sent to mop up the city of Karnak, capital of the Lombardi province.” - Y. Avraham The main force was on a beach landing, approximately two clicks from the landing zone. They were digging in along with two other platoons from the Forty-First, some even said there were a few Marauders there. If there were, they sure as hell didn’t see them. They had a guide who led them into the forests overlooking the cliffs of the beach. They were meant to send word if their intel was wrong, and the Progs were launching their assault from a different angle. Sebastian turned to look at Yael from the tree branch he was perched on. “How long do you reckon we’ll be here? Before the glowsticks hit us, I mean,” he asked. She gave him a long stare before responding. She wasn’t quite sure if Sebastian was able to pick up on it or not, but for the first time since Barachian that Yael had been apprehensive about the oncoming fight. Not because they were outnumbered roughly seven to one, but because of that Godawful waiting, the time where nothing happened. At any moment, they could be crept up on. Long the duo sat in the jungle, waiting for a shot that would never come. They were posted fifty five hours before being relieved and sent back to camp. Something big was coming.

It's a dark bug. An angry bug. It's here to gobble up your snowflakes and claim the little snack character yours is dating.

Yael Avraham, Staff Sergeant. Been so long I don't remember the PFO.

Added some big gays.

Saw this dude play live back in May. He's bretty good.

You can't allow emotions to cloud your judgement if you're going to lead your men to victory.

Shoutout to @Jun Nagase for the format. (Then-2LT. Craigjulio Barbersdale in a promotional ad for the Mobile Infantry for Barbersdale's Bonafide Boyz. (144th Moritas, B Company, First Platoon) Name: Craigjulio Isaac Barbersdale Age: 25 D.O.B: 2273/06/02 Gender: Male Roles: Mobile Infantryman Homeworld: Iskander Hair color: Darkbrown Eye color: Brown Build: Lithe & Curvy Rank: Private Promotion History: Rct < Private < PFC < LCpl< Cpl < LCpl < Cpl < LCpl < Cpl < LCpl < Cpl < LCpl < Cpl < LCpl < Cpl < Sgt < SSgt < MSgt < GySgt < 3Lt < 2Lt < Pvt Family Mother: Shwarmi Barbersdale Father: Anthony Barbersdale Sister: Anna-Henrietta Barbersdale Wealth: Middle Class Character Description: A hate-fuck between Cosmo Kramer and Mandingo Montez-Cruz, Craigjulio stands at roughly five foot six, six feet tall with his helmet off. He has lithe and curvy build, shapely in all of the right places. He speaks with a confident Arizonanan accent and a hint of mixed in facetious glee. He carries himself with pride. Achivements Achieving Second Lieutenant Having killed a bug with naught but his officer's sword. Having been the fanfare of a bunch of civilians gawking at him taking his officer's sword on RNR with him. Neutral Won best hair in the platoon 2297. Regrets Letting his entire platoon die. Being decommissioned. Impregnating an entire ship worth of Fleet women. Child support is through the roof. Personal Relationships Relations: Loved|Admired|Like Family, Brethren|Good friends|Friends|Aquaintance|Neutral|Mixed|Dislikes|Hates|Fears

I personally find that the progenitors make the server feel like it's not sst anymore, but something else. Kind of like what Force Awakens and Last Jedi did to Star Wars. Same universe, but it's just not the same. I'd advocate for a 'bring back Earth and move to a not so fucked up period'. Any character from Earth can never really go back there because the entire planet was glassed by progs, and won't be rebuilt in our characters lifetimes. There's really nothing to look forward to if the server were to end or a player retires a character.

Everyone is so worried about being the resident cool guy, or staying relevant to actually enjoy this post, or look at fundamental flaws in the system that this suggestion could rectify. People have been complaining on the server that the sniper specialization isn't very good / effective against bugs because the rifle doesn't do anything that a morita can't, as well as the fact that it's OOCly just not viable for bug hordes. The MK2 gunners are machinegunners. They spray large groups of enemies. Like Marauders, they're best used against horde tactics. I see no reason why we can't employ a weapon that's really good at killing a single enemy very fast, but not being super effective at killing swarms. The sniper is very good for anti-infantry single target. The MK2 is very good for hordes of bugs or suppressing fire. Why can't we have a gun that does what the sniper can't do against arachnids?

I'm upset. I liked this character. Hilmarsdottir? Even if their interactions were brief.

Added some updates. If I missed you, you know what to do.

ok i did it

Character Summary Chaotic Good Renegade<████████ | ████████>Paragon Morale Awful<███████|██████|██████>Not Awful Name: Ylva Myrna Hilmarsdottir Age: 32 Birthday: March 04 Ethnicity: Caucasian Birth Planet: Earth Heritage Icelandic Hometown: Hafnarfjörður Gender: Female Height: 5.9 Forearms Weight: 9.43 Stone (132 Lbs) Build: Ectomorph Eyes: Brown Hair: Brown Skin Tone: Pale "Oh, yeah? Are you sure anybody gives a shit?" Psychology * Moto * Introverted * Level-Headed * Facetious * Light-Hearted * Aloof Marital Status: Unmarried Habits: Eye-Rubbing Pacing Rolling Shoulders Over-Explaining Vying Towards Pessimism Hobbies: Cleaning Equipment Cooking Playing Guitar Working Out Fears: Ophidiophobia - Fear of snakes. Likes: Things Going According To Plan The Moble Infantry Fleet Personnel Smart-Asses Respecting Subordinates Shit That Shouldn't Fly, But Does Warm Climates Degenerates Dislikes: Appeal To Authority 'Mickey Mouse Bullshit' Rainy Climates Pogues Mouth Breathers People Who Want To Be 'The Guy' History & Misc General Skills: Cardiovascular Conditioning Small Arms Training Surgical Certification CLS Certification Basic Trauma Care Certification Advanced Trauma Care Certification Air-To-Land Insertion Sea-To-Land Insertion Ambidexterity Criminal Record: N/A Anything Else: Ylva has several Nordic tattoo markings on her arms. Ylva is a single child. Ylva has been serving for eight years. Ylva is undersocialized, resulting in an aloof disposition. Ylva has an ear for alternative music. Personnel file suggests classical music relaxes her. Relationships Key: Trusted/Amiable / Respected / Friendly/Known / Neutral/Unknown / Mixed / Particular/Exceptional Dislike / † = Deceased ♫ = Oldfag To be done. ♫ A. Falco: A trusted co-worker and an excellent friend. I've known Falco for about as long as I've been serving on this ship, and she's come to be a favorite of mine. I've noticed that she hasn't been the since since we lost Dahl. Most of my antics are to try and coax a reaction out of her - there's just something about seeing one of your best friend's rare smiles that makes it worth the shit it gets me into. I hope she comes to terms with herself before it's all over. Please don't go somewhere I can't follow you. My name is Arryn Falco, and I mean something to somebody. † ♫ O. Dahlstrom: If Falco was my best friend, Dahl would have been something special. I loved that kid as much as someone possibly could without breaking the confines of platonic. He was closer to Falco than to me, but I still think about him a lot. D. Dumont: The man the myth. Rekindled my faith in grunts. I have plenty of fond memories with this one. ♫ O. Dresdner: We've never had anything but a working relationship. He's what I wish all of our leaders could be. ♫ F. Sorrentino: Frankie and me go back a little ways to his days as a Sergeant. I don't think any other officer would let me squeeze their biceps in public without breaking my arm. He cares a lot more than he lets on. There's something cutting him up - you can see it in the way he is now as opposed to how he was before, if you talk to him long enough. We've spoken a few times recently. He has some kinks, but I think he's a soft soul at heart. J. Skye: I stole his vest n' beret and now he wants to fuck me. C. Scott: Scottie's a friendly Specialist serving in medical. He's a little old for his rank, but he's good people nevertheless. I'm glad to have met him. It's funny how a single, seemingly meaningless conversation can really change your view on a person. You're worth more than you know, Charlie Scott. If catharsis had a name and face, it would look like the spawn of a hate-fuck between Mark Ruffalo and Bruce Campbell and wind up as a dumb hick named Charlie Scott. That hick would go on to be one of my best friends. My best friend loves me, and that frightens me in a way I don't have words for. H. Al-Attar: I get the sneaking suspicion that Atari isn't terribly fond of Falco and I's bullshit. She'll come around. Quitter. Drama stirrer. I regret knowing you. † D. Foster: I've got to stop making a habit of burying my friends. I only knew Foster briefly, but I'd like to think I've got a pretty alright judge of character. The kind of guy who'd have your back on a patrol or in the deepest of shit all the way up until the end. Rest easy, Davie. † N. Gargano: He was really young for his rank, and that only serves to make me feel older now that he's gone. You should've gone the whole mile, but they pulled you out of the race in the first quarter. I liked him, for what brief interaction we had. Would've gotten to know him by now if he were still with us. Rest easy, buddy. T. Hughes: He's a good kid with a whole mess of problems. I want to see him climb out of that hole he's in. Steady progress with his recovery. Enabling people to succeed makes me feel really good about myself. Chin up, pal. Made a full recovery. It's nice to know I've helped do well enough by someone to rekindle their desire to live. W. St. Claire: I want to like him, but he finds a way to insult me or my rank every time we speak without fail. Makes me feel kind of shitty that he doesn't realize I'd go out of my way to save his life. M. Valentine: Cute kid, something's bothering her. I care more than I should for no justifiable reason. I'd like to get to the bottom of it, if I can. I'd like to see her live longer n' I do if I can help it. Max says the nicest things sometimes. I'm glad to know her. Max says the worst things, sometimes. I'm still glad to know her. A. Thacker: Doesn't think, and has an ego to boot. If she were an NCO, she'd get people killed. Wants to be a medic. I dono'bout' that one. J. Holiday: Psychic, seems flirty around movie-theatre-sword and Hughes. Her cooking's not bad. D. Elswood: A sensitive soul, a poet and a dreamer. I'm glad I met him. I would like to think that we're friends, to some degree. He has a fascination with people, and I suppose he picked the most intriguing line of work to try and cash in on that fact. I can only imagine him going up and down the recovery bay, introducing himself to every John and Jane. R. Shaw: I'm not sure how much he enjoys my company, but I sure enjoys his whenever we have the opportunity to talk. He gives off vibes from someone who has the potential to be very good company. The rank makes me kind of nervous, so I find myself vying towards witticisms in his presence. Archer:

As a child, Mandeville was given private education on Castus where they scored at the top of their English classes almost continuously, otherwise gaining quite high grades. I'm walkin' on air, baby!

As someone who has been in medical for the better part of this server's longevity, I can promise you that I have to, more often than not, ferverously hunt down the admin doing injuries because they either skimp on the details or don't answer any of my questions as a medic that are 100% relevant to saving this person's life. Then after about 15 minutes they go on and tell me I either took too long, or my equipment does not do its job. I've literally been fucking banned from the server before because I used my kit to circumvent injuries that the admins had inflicted on another player. Oh no, he's choking on his blood. Give him a tracheostomy. Oh no, he's bleeding from the aortal artery which you cannot throw a tourniquet on because it's in the middle of his chest. Stick an AAJT on him and huff it up with air. Pack the wound. Better ban you because you're getting on my nerves with your roleplay, kiddo. If you're going to change the PK circumstances, you need the majority of the admin team on board to participate, not just the few who already do this.

None of the admins give enough of a fuck about their job to do that.