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Legolas · 09-12-2007, 03:31 PM

Right, so here's my character. If there's anything that needs adjusting or some of the background has to change, just let me know. I went by the assumption that you have not yet populated all your planets and thus made one up myself within the frame provided.

Name: Ricor Messman
Skill: Scientist (Operations)
Rank: Chief Engineer
Abilities: 12 points, +2 Knowledge bonus

Physical: 3
Dexterity: 3
Charisma: 2
Knowledge: 4
Wit: 2

Appearance: Ricor, 38 years old, sports shoulder-length, wavy brown hair which frames a shaven face, light with the fairly pure Martian features you'd find on the outermost First Colonies, though his ears are a little bigger. He has the relatively broad build of a manual labourer, and usually wears his Federation issue jumpsuit complete with long-fingered gloves. All his teeth are still present, as is the oily rag Ric often uses to mop his brow.

Background: Ricor hails from the now-independent outer planet of Sophia II, colonized in NHC 128. During the conflict of 255, it joined the Separationists for religious reasons - their right to practice the belief that the universe is a fishbowl and all men are blind gods in particular. The faithful also believe paradise is reached through unity, procreation and a complete understanding of all events everywhere. After the ET incident Sophia II joined the Terran Coalition.
Ric was some ten years old when the GenMods, believed to be children of the gods and thus less worthy than regular humans, bombarded his ill-defended planet into surrender, costing him his parents. Under their military reign he worked at the docks, unloading, painting and later repairing a variety of smaller and bigger ships.
He continued this work throughout the 306 liberation by the Red Generation until NHC 312, when at age 29 he was recruited by a docked Federation ship visiting the sector despite Sophia's non-participation in Nicolas' new empire. Ric's broad experience and the planet's reputation for producing knowledge-oriented workers appealed, and in return he saw the settlement of his debts and his first true space voyage.
In the nine years that followed, Terran Federation facilities have enabled him to continue his education, no longer simply on ship mechanics but on other aspects of space as well.
Armed with field experience, official training and knowledge of the latest technologies and scientific insights Ricor seems the right man for the job.

Personality: Despite his high-level education at later age and his more general quest for understanding, Ricor remains a simple man at heart. His enthusiasm and love for the ship and space notwithstanding, he doesn't like using complicated words for the sake of them, nor comparing life tales with miserly louts. In this respect his position as chief engineer is well suited, because it allows him a certain measure of detachment from both his crew and his superiors. The latter in particular he treats with stiffly and succinctly, the former are welcome to all the instruction and assistance he can muster as long as they don't pry.

Spoiler for More detailed background for DM:

Though anyone's welcome to read it really, I recommend that players and potential players don't. It will contain information that's best released during the course of the game, as I intend to provide it.

Spoiler for Ricor:

Origins: My ancestors, nearly all of them I think, were among the tens of thousands aboard the Spera when it left Martian soil during the first colonial project. One of them I know worked in the mess, but there must have been hundreds of others unaware their bloodlines would one day join in me. I may even have the blood of Gildred in me, the prophet who led them in their search even as the captain claimed to directed the ship. They travelled the galaxy for eight decades until they came to the Sophia system, and found its second planet to their liking. It was no utopia, but after eighty years of searching you don't settle for less than the finest planet you can find. They planted their flag in 128, thinking that here on this distant planet they might live safely and in peace.
After just eight years of construction and terraforming, they were visited by travellers from distant Mycenea III with their new, swift engines. We united under the Centralists, but were effectively left alone until 210. Around this time, new drives allowed faster travel and the central government sought more control over our business. We were not Haven, but might have been. Fortunately, the new colonies divided the attention of what became the PSG, and after the construction of a Wayfarer nearby we went on to do our best to remember our divine tasks even as much was standardized.
The growth of the Cortez empire largely went unnoticed by my predecessors, though we felt the collapse of the Parliament in 255. Information became scarce, long-distance trade practically vanished. Without nearby second generation colonies Sophia II would have suffered far more horrendously, but even there we often had to use military might and the advantage of age to seize what was needed. Sophia joined the Separist movement, seeking to preserve our future and a chance to correct old mistakes in policy. In those days we were led by our high priest Iris, but it was her student Gardelain who survived to learn of the extraterrestrial threat. You must understand our religion to appreciate the impact of that discovery, but I can say it was no surprise we ceased our warring to attend Hellespond and join the Terran Coalition. I was born during that rule, in NHC 283.

Religion: We Sophians believe there is a paradise. We're not sure what it looks like, but it's a fine place for a human. What we do know is that it's not entirely perfect. And if we ever get there, there'll be much dusting to do.
Our texts say that two gods lived in that paradise, and sought to make it better. They made many improvements, and if they worked together their projects would be flawless. One day they decided to make a fish bowl.
Work progressed swiftly, they blew their divine glass to the right shape and size, they filled the bowl with their divine water and countless decorations. Each little bit was perfected down to the most minute of details, for that is how they worked. But this time, something unprecedented happened. While they agreed, as ever, on all aspects of the bowl they had not given thought to the colour of the fish to dwell in it. Unable to deal with the argument, tempers rose, and at long last each god banished the other to the bowl's interior.
They soon discovered great perils, and swiftly thought of a plan to better survive and return to paradise. The gods fell apart into many smaller forms, each alike but different, all able to think and survive as a single unit. One day they would come together and join their efforts to regain freedom, but they must also grow in number to grow stronger. Thus it is that all humans are gods, omnipotent within the limits of our power.
But while meetings of humans birth children to defy the deaths around us and even to grow in power - and we all know death means oblivion and a weakening of our collective divine - we have forgotten its meaning. We have forgotten the method of reuniting, of wielding our powers for liberty. Not until we learn to see the flow of events that influence us can we truly understand our own will and direct it.
Of course, that never meant we should birth as many children as we can in our lives. That sort of thing brings misery, hunger and simply more death. Our leaders feel understanding is, at least for our generations, the main goal to strive for. I'm a religious man, but I do not claim to be in reach of that goal myself. All we can do is pave the way for those who come after.
You could say our religion walks hand in hand with science, both valuing understanding above all else. I won't deny this has fuelled my own thirst for knowledge.
What our high priest Gardelain realized during the ET-incident, however, is that we may have been mistaken. What if we humans were only the children of one god, and our friend and rival fathered a second race? Whether we would work together to escape our imprisonment or compete to be the first, we had to appear united.
But I could have done without the consequences of that coalition. I've never seen an alien to make it worthwhile, after all.

Life: At the age of ten, after a relatively peaceful youth on a demilitarized border colony, the GenMods seized control of the military. As artificial humans, they were at best the children of the gods, imitations. It was a sad thing they were better suited to life in the bowl than most of us, but what trueborn man is ever meant to be a fish? I remember how Gardelain instructed we resist their incursions, but with barely a weapon or warship were soon broken. My father died in the punitive bombardment, and I lost many of my friends in petty acts of sabotage gone sour. What regional control we had under the Coalition was stripped away and replaced by a strict military rule. Our leader was executed, the faith was banned for its seditious beliefs towards our new overlords.
I took to working at the local docks in those years, to support myself and my mother. I started out loading and unloading vessels, but as I became a familiar face they gave me other tasks. I got to paint hulls and ship interiors, and before my twelfth birthday I was mending broken lamps and doors, slowly working my way towards engine maintenance and more complicated repairs. In 298, I got my most memorable task. A Tollo class trader named "Eternal Sunshine" with a near-ruptured hull and countless smaller dents. The G-drive was fairly banged up, and whatever its pilot had done was not on the safe side of caution. Her name was Martha, and we both found a hundred reasons to delay her departure. She told me she hailed from a nearby CO-IP system called DT9, but her employer rarely sent her there to meet her family. I told her I could fix anything, but had never left the planet. I don't know if it was the GenMod shift in policies in NHC 300 or the return and extended stay of my freedom angel with her wings of steel, but life was better in those days. Probably the best times I'll ever have.
The new policies had two immediate effects. There was the growth of the Red Generation, and the end of seven years of curfews, watchtowers and armed patrols as power was sifted to Owen Dockmaster, the traitorous priest who'd sold Gardelain. I could live with the latter, because while religious, religion had never claimed my life, and one ruler was much like the other at a personal level.
In the five years that followed, she brought me two children. Ian, the brightest boy I've ever seen, was born on an all too early morning late in 301. Two years later, in the midst of a violent spring storm, he was joined by precious Louise. Every day I wish I had more time with them.
The Red rebellion was not without consequences though. The Gens set up death camps for sympathisers, and bombarded entire cities where their strongholds were suspected. They were often misinformed. As the threat of bombardment increased in the fall of 305, we pooled what credits we had, and with an additional loan purchased passage to DT9 for my mother and our daughter. Martha returned to piloting traders again, bringing Ian along to learn the trade. Having sent everyone I could to what I hoped to be a safer place, I returned to the docks to work off my debts. Had they come to bomb Sophia, I almost would have welcomed it. But there was no bombing on our side of the planet.
Still in the same year, the crew of the Eternal Sunshine was arrested and taken to a death camp. I was told my love lasted nearly ten months. My boy managed eleven, and was freed in 306. That year, they liberated the universe from the GenMods. Impressed, Ian joined their forces and grew into a fine young pilot. His rescue and welcome from a problem they themselves created is the one thing I Nicolas' forces for.
When the Terran Federation was formed, our planet politely declined further involvement with any new faction.
Still, in 312, at my 29th year, a Federation ship docked on Sophia, picking up supplies for a Wayfarer mission. In my nineteen years I had worked on four hundred and twenty-seven small and medium craft, and nearly fifty-two of greater size. Because of my experience, our planet's reputation for religious zeal in scientific thinking and, not unimportantly, a vacancy, I was offered an engineering position on the ship. Because they'd acquit my debts, I'd suffered enough on that planet, and I nurtured a vague hope of discovering Ian's fate I accepted, and departed for the first and only time from my home planet.
Between then and now, I gained nine more years of experience and won access to Federation facilities where I learned more than I thought possible about ships and all the oddities of space that affect them. But I never learned where Ian went, and each day I feel my gut twist pondering the fates of my children, and wondering if I'll ever spy a chance to visit DT9 and find not just Louise, but her dead mother's family I'd heard so many tales about.

Spoiler for Crew list:

09-12-2007, 03:31 PM	#4
Legolas Jack Burton Join Date: March 31, 2001 Location: The zephyr lands beneath the brine. Age: 41 Posts: 5,459	Re: [OOC]Dystopia: The Fallen Angels (sign up here) Right, so here's my character. If there's anything that needs adjusting or some of the background has to change, just let me know. I went by the assumption that you have not yet populated all your planets and thus made one up myself within the frame provided. Name: Ricor Messman Skill: Scientist (Operations) Rank: Chief Engineer Abilities: 12 points, +2 Knowledge bonus Physical: 3 Dexterity: 3 Charisma: 2 Knowledge: 4 Wit: 2 Appearance: Ricor, 38 years old, sports shoulder-length, wavy brown hair which frames a shaven face, light with the fairly pure Martian features you'd find on the outermost First Colonies, though his ears are a little bigger. He has the relatively broad build of a manual labourer, and usually wears his Federation issue jumpsuit complete with long-fingered gloves. All his teeth are still present, as is the oily rag Ric often uses to mop his brow. Background: Ricor hails from the now-independent outer planet of Sophia II, colonized in NHC 128. During the conflict of 255, it joined the Separationists for religious reasons - their right to practice the belief that the universe is a fishbowl and all men are blind gods in particular. The faithful also believe paradise is reached through unity, procreation and a complete understanding of all events everywhere. After the ET incident Sophia II joined the Terran Coalition. Ric was some ten years old when the GenMods, believed to be children of the gods and thus less worthy than regular humans, bombarded his ill-defended planet into surrender, costing him his parents. Under their military reign he worked at the docks, unloading, painting and later repairing a variety of smaller and bigger ships. He continued this work throughout the 306 liberation by the Red Generation until NHC 312, when at age 29 he was recruited by a docked Federation ship visiting the sector despite Sophia's non-participation in Nicolas' new empire. Ric's broad experience and the planet's reputation for producing knowledge-oriented workers appealed, and in return he saw the settlement of his debts and his first true space voyage. In the nine years that followed, Terran Federation facilities have enabled him to continue his education, no longer simply on ship mechanics but on other aspects of space as well. Armed with field experience, official training and knowledge of the latest technologies and scientific insights Ricor seems the right man for the job. Personality: Despite his high-level education at later age and his more general quest for understanding, Ricor remains a simple man at heart. His enthusiasm and love for the ship and space notwithstanding, he doesn't like using complicated words for the sake of them, nor comparing life tales with miserly louts. In this respect his position as chief engineer is well suited, because it allows him a certain measure of detachment from both his crew and his superiors. The latter in particular he treats with stiffly and succinctly, the former are welcome to all the instruction and assistance he can muster as long as they don't pry. Spoiler for More detailed background for DM: Though anyone's welcome to read it really, I recommend that players and potential players don't. It will contain information that's best released during the course of the game, as I intend to provide it. Spoiler for Ricor: Origins: My ancestors, nearly all of them I think, were among the tens of thousands aboard the Spera when it left Martian soil during the first colonial project. One of them I know worked in the mess, but there must have been hundreds of others unaware their bloodlines would one day join in me. I may even have the blood of Gildred in me, the prophet who led them in their search even as the captain claimed to directed the ship. They travelled the galaxy for eight decades until they came to the Sophia system, and found its second planet to their liking. It was no utopia, but after eighty years of searching you don't settle for less than the finest planet you can find. They planted their flag in 128, thinking that here on this distant planet they might live safely and in peace. After just eight years of construction and terraforming, they were visited by travellers from distant Mycenea III with their new, swift engines. We united under the Centralists, but were effectively left alone until 210. Around this time, new drives allowed faster travel and the central government sought more control over our business. We were not Haven, but might have been. Fortunately, the new colonies divided the attention of what became the PSG, and after the construction of a Wayfarer nearby we went on to do our best to remember our divine tasks even as much was standardized. The growth of the Cortez empire largely went unnoticed by my predecessors, though we felt the collapse of the Parliament in 255. Information became scarce, long-distance trade practically vanished. Without nearby second generation colonies Sophia II would have suffered far more horrendously, but even there we often had to use military might and the advantage of age to seize what was needed. Sophia joined the Separist movement, seeking to preserve our future and a chance to correct old mistakes in policy. In those days we were led by our high priest Iris, but it was her student Gardelain who survived to learn of the extraterrestrial threat. You must understand our religion to appreciate the impact of that discovery, but I can say it was no surprise we ceased our warring to attend Hellespond and join the Terran Coalition. I was born during that rule, in NHC 283. Religion: We Sophians believe there is a paradise. We're not sure what it looks like, but it's a fine place for a human. What we do know is that it's not entirely perfect. And if we ever get there, there'll be much dusting to do. Our texts say that two gods lived in that paradise, and sought to make it better. They made many improvements, and if they worked together their projects would be flawless. One day they decided to make a fish bowl. Work progressed swiftly, they blew their divine glass to the right shape and size, they filled the bowl with their divine water and countless decorations. Each little bit was perfected down to the most minute of details, for that is how they worked. But this time, something unprecedented happened. While they agreed, as ever, on all aspects of the bowl they had not given thought to the colour of the fish to dwell in it. Unable to deal with the argument, tempers rose, and at long last each god banished the other to the bowl's interior. They soon discovered great perils, and swiftly thought of a plan to better survive and return to paradise. The gods fell apart into many smaller forms, each alike but different, all able to think and survive as a single unit. One day they would come together and join their efforts to regain freedom, but they must also grow in number to grow stronger. Thus it is that all humans are gods, omnipotent within the limits of our power. But while meetings of humans birth children to defy the deaths around us and even to grow in power - and we all know death means oblivion and a weakening of our collective divine - we have forgotten its meaning. We have forgotten the method of reuniting, of wielding our powers for liberty. Not until we learn to see the flow of events that influence us can we truly understand our own will and direct it. Of course, that never meant we should birth as many children as we can in our lives. That sort of thing brings misery, hunger and simply more death. Our leaders feel understanding is, at least for our generations, the main goal to strive for. I'm a religious man, but I do not claim to be in reach of that goal myself. All we can do is pave the way for those who come after. You could say our religion walks hand in hand with science, both valuing understanding above all else. I won't deny this has fuelled my own thirst for knowledge. What our high priest Gardelain realized during the ET-incident, however, is that we may have been mistaken. What if we humans were only the children of one god, and our friend and rival fathered a second race? Whether we would work together to escape our imprisonment or compete to be the first, we had to appear united. But I could have done without the consequences of that coalition. I've never seen an alien to make it worthwhile, after all. Life: At the age of ten, after a relatively peaceful youth on a demilitarized border colony, the GenMods seized control of the military. As artificial humans, they were at best the children of the gods, imitations. It was a sad thing they were better suited to life in the bowl than most of us, but what trueborn man is ever meant to be a fish? I remember how Gardelain instructed we resist their incursions, but with barely a weapon or warship were soon broken. My father died in the punitive bombardment, and I lost many of my friends in petty acts of sabotage gone sour. What regional control we had under the Coalition was stripped away and replaced by a strict military rule. Our leader was executed, the faith was banned for its seditious beliefs towards our new overlords. I took to working at the local docks in those years, to support myself and my mother. I started out loading and unloading vessels, but as I became a familiar face they gave me other tasks. I got to paint hulls and ship interiors, and before my twelfth birthday I was mending broken lamps and doors, slowly working my way towards engine maintenance and more complicated repairs. In 298, I got my most memorable task. A Tollo class trader named "Eternal Sunshine" with a near-ruptured hull and countless smaller dents. The G-drive was fairly banged up, and whatever its pilot had done was not on the safe side of caution. Her name was Martha, and we both found a hundred reasons to delay her departure. She told me she hailed from a nearby CO-IP system called DT9, but her employer rarely sent her there to meet her family. I told her I could fix anything, but had never left the planet. I don't know if it was the GenMod shift in policies in NHC 300 or the return and extended stay of my freedom angel with her wings of steel, but life was better in those days. Probably the best times I'll ever have. The new policies had two immediate effects. There was the growth of the Red Generation, and the end of seven years of curfews, watchtowers and armed patrols as power was sifted to Owen Dockmaster, the traitorous priest who'd sold Gardelain. I could live with the latter, because while religious, religion had never claimed my life, and one ruler was much like the other at a personal level. In the five years that followed, she brought me two children. Ian, the brightest boy I've ever seen, was born on an all too early morning late in 301. Two years later, in the midst of a violent spring storm, he was joined by precious Louise. Every day I wish I had more time with them. The Red rebellion was not without consequences though. The Gens set up death camps for sympathisers, and bombarded entire cities where their strongholds were suspected. They were often misinformed. As the threat of bombardment increased in the fall of 305, we pooled what credits we had, and with an additional loan purchased passage to DT9 for my mother and our daughter. Martha returned to piloting traders again, bringing Ian along to learn the trade. Having sent everyone I could to what I hoped to be a safer place, I returned to the docks to work off my debts. Had they come to bomb Sophia, I almost would have welcomed it. But there was no bombing on our side of the planet. Still in the same year, the crew of the Eternal Sunshine was arrested and taken to a death camp. I was told my love lasted nearly ten months. My boy managed eleven, and was freed in 306. That year, they liberated the universe from the GenMods. Impressed, Ian joined their forces and grew into a fine young pilot. His rescue and welcome from a problem they themselves created is the one thing I Nicolas' forces for. When the Terran Federation was formed, our planet politely declined further involvement with any new faction. Still, in 312, at my 29th year, a Federation ship docked on Sophia, picking up supplies for a Wayfarer mission. In my nineteen years I had worked on four hundred and twenty-seven small and medium craft, and nearly fifty-two of greater size. Because of my experience, our planet's reputation for religious zeal in scientific thinking and, not unimportantly, a vacancy, I was offered an engineering position on the ship. Because they'd acquit my debts, I'd suffered enough on that planet, and I nurtured a vague hope of discovering Ian's fate I accepted, and departed for the first and only time from my home planet. Between then and now, I gained nine more years of experience and won access to Federation facilities where I learned more than I thought possible about ships and all the oddities of space that affect them. But I never learned where Ian went, and each day I feel my gut twist pondering the fates of my children, and wondering if I'll ever spy a chance to visit DT9 and find not just Louise, but her dead mother's family I'd heard so many tales about. Spoiler for Crew list: Evolved from the engineer list Code: Command: Captain Valentine - Rank 4, inactive due to VR Chief Of Operations Hamilton - Rank 3 Operations, inactive due to VR Chief Medical Officer B. Abraham - Rank 3 Medical Chief Engineer Ricor Messman (3/3/2/4/2, Scientist, 37) - Rank 2 Operations, PC Doctor Philbert Sigismund Wolf - Rank 2 Medical, PC Squad Leader Midrak Itaio - Rank 2 Piloting, elitist golden boy Senior Navigator Jack Johnson - Rank 2 Piloting Sergeant Edmund Jörg - Rank 2 Military Rank 1 Operations: 14 unknown Researcher Terrance Brown Researcher ..., female Engineering-Liason ... Comm-Liason Cathy o' Hara Tac-Liason Gordon Blair Science-Liason Aubron Hermsly Bay Engineers: (Name, Stats) (Age, Appearance, Character, Best Field) - Kelmos Lex 16, Pale and Sickly, Wild Mop of Light Brown Curls, Distracted 1/2/2/1/3 Minor Labours - Risk Benning 17, Army, Short Haired Blonde, Squarejawed, Sixpack, Unproven 3/2/1/2/2 Armaments - Filrian Sweran 21, Purple Haired Punk, Goth Silver and Black, Pierced, Relaxed 2/4/1/3/2 Programming, Electronics - Orrome Navard 24, Oliveskinned, Oily Black Hair, Slick and Lean, Cleanish, 2/2/3/3/2 Wiring and Energy Banks - Eemy Lleem 26, Petite, Unkempt Loose Blonde Hair, Dirty, Determined, 1/3/2/2/4 Problem Solver, Piping - Ceemaw Rend 32, Broad, Muscular, Half-Bald, Short Red Mous/Beard, Tattoos, 4/2/1/3/3 Engines and Metalworking - Miranda Lex 43, Dark Brown Curly Hair, Well Preserved, Motherly, Confident 2/2/3/4/2 Allround, Weaponry Rank 1 Medical: 3 unknown Rank 1 Piloting: Happy 17 unknown Rank 1 Military: Corporal Scott Avery, PC Corporal Uytio Aldara, PC Muh’tabi Jones 15 unknown Last edited by Legolas; 10-22-2007 at 08:06 AM.