nethgros

Dylan took Cathy's outstretched hand in his, giving her a firm, welcoming shake. "You can just call me Dylan, or Doc, Guy, Mister, Mr.Doctor, Mr.Guy, I've heard them all." As he ended the shake, he heard someone yell toward the entrance of the building, followed by a loud *thump*. Dylan turned and walked quickly toward the commotion to find Morgan on the ground, with another man standing there looking at him.

"You are welcome to join us if you would like. Just need to get my things," Dylan said, looking Cathy over from head to toe, "You are definitely welcome, Miss...?"

She had a very childish way about her, sticking her tongue out, but not unpleasant. "I live about two miles down the river, toward the old DC ruins. I just need to get a few things from my apartment, shouldn't take long."

"That settles it then! I will need someone to help retrieve my things from my 'house'." Dylan looks around, seeing who would accept, his eyes lingering on Axelle.

Dylan took Ferox's hands in his, took off the splints on the fingers, and with precise and fluid movement he snapped each of the fingers back into the correct position. He then wrapped them each back up with their splints. "I don't think you will be doing too much with those," he points to Ferox's hands, "anytime soon." He then turned to address the group as a whole, "So do you need a doctor? Because I really have nothing better to do - Really..."

"You obviously haven't had a very good doctor around here. These haven't quite set right. I'm going to have to break them again, so they can grow back right."

The woman got up and strolled away, calling in a drow to speak in her place. At least he realized that illithids don't have spoken conversations, and had prior dealings with them. Yes, I wish to extend... a helping hand to such a brave, and noble group of adventurers - such as yourselves. I've seen you in action, and it pleases me (the way you do work). So I guess having left you here in her place, your leader leaves this decision to you, drow. What say you?

"I am Dylan, I have a setup not too far from here in an old apartment building." He walks over to Ferox, "Let me get a look at those fingers."

Dylan had been walking around for a "stroll" - really patrolling at the area surrounding his ruinous domiciliary set up he had in what was an apartment building nearby. That's when he heard someone cry out for help. He rushed over to where he heard the voice, as this is what he was meant to do! "What's happened? Who has need of the assistance of a wandering doctor?"

She seemed hesitant at first, reacting as he thought she may to such an intrusion. Sadly for her, and the rest of her fellows, he had no intention of attempting to spit out their drivel they call language. I am Ysmillr, outcast of the illithids, looking for a new outlook on life. I watched you and your fellows stir up quite a fuss down in the Underdark, and I want in on that sort of thing. For the sake of brevity, I simply wish to lend my aid to your colorful band of demons, elves, and other fantastical creatures.

He had missed his chance last time, as he had been so preoccupied in his feast that he failed to notice the party had left - with one more in tow, no less! But he had caught up to them once again, and it seemed as though the Chosen leader of the group was just now returning from somewhere. Ysmillr sat alone in the corner of the room and reached out to her with his telepathy. I would like to speak with you, if you would not mind. No ill will is intended, and I do not believe I could defeat you either way.

Sorry I haven't actually replied since I signed up, my internet went out. Could I still post?

Sorry I haven't replied since my first. Being the unlucky person that I am, my internet went out the day after I posted.

Name: Dylan Gender: Male Age: 20 Race: Iroquois (Native American) Karmic Alignment: Neutral Appearance: 5'8 160lbs with a stocky, muscular frame and naturally tanned skin. Black mohawk, black/brown eyes, and mustache/goatee combo. Clothing/armor: Dark jeans, callused bare feet, and a light kevlar vest. Also a backpack filled with medical supplies (Optional) Pet: Protectron named Mr.Tibbs who has medical protocols instead of protection protocols Starting Weapon: Excellent unarmed skill focused on breaking bones to incapacitate opponents, or break necks. Occasionally uses some medical tools, like a scalpel, for less medical purposes. Skills/Occupation: Wandering doctor, occasional gladiator. Learned great sneak skills from a mix of using bare feet, escaping raiders, and teachings from his home. Also has a good knowledge of robots, and science. Personality: While usually reserved, Dylan will adamantly defend his beliefs. He has a strong dislike for most forms of control. He is prone to fits of hyperactivity, where he might: start a fight, climb something, speak gibberish, or go in search of a 'special' lady. History/Background: Raised on what was formerly a native reservation in western New York, Dylan was raised by his traditional Iroquois mother, and (partially from) his passive father. He learned many things necessary to survival in the wild, and sneaking past enemies. Around the age of 16, he felt his time here had passed, and set out on a life of adventure. While passing through Northern Pennsylvania, Dylan came upon an old robot factory that was set up as some sort of school of robotics. He signed up, and for the next 3 years enkindled a love for science and robotics. During his second year, he rebuilt a whole protectron, and snuck in a medical program to give him a teacher for medicine. He graduated with a very useless piece of paper stating his moderate skill in robotics, but also he graduated with a friend, and a teacher of medicine. He now spends his time travelling around the American Northeast giving aid to those who need it, and (once[it was a long day]) beating those who don't, just so that they might then need it.

He had been watching them for such a long time, but to him it seemed but a moment. Since their dealings in the Underdark, Ysmillr had taken quite a liking to this misfit band of do-gooders and the likes. Even though there were so many Illithids bound to the aspects of evil, Ys defied this simply because of his hatred of control, which he saw manifested in the Illithid society. He knew this group would have no problem accepting him into their fold, with the exception of his craving for brains. They had all begun to go upstairs to sleep, and Ys knew that know could be an especially surprising time to join in with them. Though first, he needed a snack. He walked upstairs, hood up, and a mask covering his tentacles, which could be disastrous if these common-folk saw him. There were many rooms with many occupants, or meals, to choose from; but the one he sought had an old scholar, who was bound to be full of juicy knowledge. He approached the door, and expanded his mind, to be able to sense if someone was coming. He bent down, and picked his lockpicking tools out of a pocket on his neck using his tentacles. He picked at the door every so gently, making sure no one but him could hear the sounds within the lock. The door popped open, as he knew it would, and he entered with his natural, silent steps he had developed over his many years of sneaking. Finally he had his meal, and joining this stalwart group he had been following could wait. He entranced the scholar with a deep nightmare, being that he was already asleep; now he would never wake up. The door shuts...

So should I just pop up at the boarding house?

Name: Ysmillr Race: Illithid Age: Quite Old Class: Assassin Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Deity: None Place of Origin: Outer Planes Appearance: Normal Illithid squidface (4 tentacles, 'lamprey' mouth, white eyes) , dull purple skin. 6" with 3 long fingers, and a long thumb. Various scars covering torso and arms. Armor/Clothing: Light leather chestpiece with many pockets around the neck, filled with tools and weapons to be used by the tentacles. Cloth hood, leather pants, leather shoes. Quite plain, besides the neck pockets, and other hidden compartments. Weapon: Many average steel blades hidden in clothing. Makes frequent use of notorious Illithid psionic skills. Personality: Ys is a classic nihilist, with his only fun derived from the murder of targets, and acquisition of brains. He doesn't choose a side, unless someone/somthing is attempting to control him, which he loathes. Though, he is capable of compassion; but only toward those who he fully bonds with. History: Ys was deemed an outcast from his Illithid brethren for opposing the rule of the Elder Brain. He cared not for the petty trivialities that his fellow Illithids went about in their daily lives. He sought excitement! (and brains) So he set about on the path of the assassin, killing high profile targets for money, and absorbing their knowledge through the ingestion of their brains. Good?

I put in a line for a pickup, but I guess I'm relying on someone with a ship to pick my people up.

It had been weeks since KH-01 and Subject 895 had been sitting on this planet for weeks, and they still had no idea where exactly it was. After killing the batarian pirates, they had set themselves up in the pirate's hideout, which was embedded into a single large mountain, standing alone in the middle of a harsh wasteland. Several times they had attempted to leave on one of the batarian's many pirating vessels, but neither of them had any idea how to pilot a ship. So they simply sat there, messing with the pirate's tools, looking through their loot, and trying to find a way to leave the planet. Since KH-01 had no real experience at survival, Subject 895 -who was an accomplished hunter on his homeworld of Parnack- taught him the basics of survival out in the wastes. Sadly, the teaching didn't go quite as planned, as the wastes were completely inhospitable, lacking both water and food sources. Yet, knowing the nature of the wastes emboldened their resolve to escape this rock; when the food ran out, they would not be able to get more. A few days later, 895 noticed something that he had seen before, and it drew up a memory of just what this object was: an interplanetary transmitter. This was their best chance to leave, so with only the hopes that someone might pick this up -and take the time to pick up two stranded Cerberus experiments- they sent their hope into the depths of space. "To whoever can hear this, I am an escaped Cerberus experiment, entitled 'KH-01'. I have with me another escaped experiment, a Yahg codenamed 'Subject 895'. We took over the station where we were being experimented on, and Cerberus remotely deactivated the station, sending it crashing into the planet we are stranded on. We do not know where it is, but we only hope that you can figure it out, and save us."

So how should I go about inserting my people in here?

If only I had looked at the forums sooner, I could've seen this wonderful post! Also, I made 2 character sheets. They go together with the history (and I couldn't decide what I wanted to be more) Character Name: KH-01 (nickname can be applied during RP) Character Race: Human Character Class: 'Supersoldier' (used loosely) Gender: Male Age: 1 (artificially created, physically aged to 20ish) Height: 6'0 Weight: 210 Eyes: Brown Hair(if aplicable): Black/deep brown Weapons: M-37 Falcon Armour/Clothing: Makeshift armor re-fashioned from Batarian Slaver armor. Stripped of paint, just a metallic steel/chrome color. Powers/abilities: Extreme proficiency with biotics. Weapon mods: none "Skills": Heavy bone, muscle, and skin weaves along with other enhancements have lead to KH-01 being notoriously difficult to kill. History/Background: Created by Cerberus in response to the success of several projects, including the Lazarus Project, KH-01 was designed to be the first in a series of ultimate super soldiers. Using data aquired from their older projects, and some from the krogan Warlord Okeer, Cerberus set about a tube-style creation for their soldier. They weaved an unorthodox tapestry of culture and custom mixed from krogans and humans, in an attempt to give their soldier the strong, unwavering willpower of a krogan, with the insight, and hope of a human. Once grown to the right extent, he was outfitted with implants to 'upgrade' his fleshy, weak, human body both physically and biotically. When he was ready, they set about 'educating' him with everything he would need to know to be the perfect, zealous, fanatically loyal soldier. But Cerberus forgot to get the follow-up on Okeer's project- 'Grunt' - specifically the part where he felt no attachment to his creator, or his creator's beliefs. So as the teaching dragged on, KH-01 felt out of place among the weaklings who tried to show him the 'truth'. After a few months of planning, he staged a coup of the station, rallying all the various misfit projects, and Cerberus detractors, so that he might be free to do as he willed. It took 3 days to gain control of the station, as Cerberus had sent reinforcements until there was no possibility of them getting the station back. At that point they shut down all processes on the station: electronical, mechanical, and life-sustaining. Stripped of the capability to maintain orbit above the planet, the station began to drop rapidly. As terror gripped all remaining occupants of the station, KH-01 merely got to the outer-most windows of the station to make his escape. That is when he noticed the rather large creature following him, a Yahg simply titled Subject 895. During the coup, KH-01 had unwittingly shown his dominance and power to 895, who now was determined to follow him. As the station entered the atmosphere, it began to heat up, and break apart. This was the perfect time for KH-01 and Subject 895 to break out of the window, and into a free fall. Closing in on what should be/ would be a solid, splattery death, KH-01 used his powerful biotic abilities to slow their descent until they touched they ground, unharmed. Luckily, the planet was occupied by some batarian slavers, who KH-01 and Subject 895 then 'relieved' of duty. Not really knowing what to do, they just sat around, waiting for some calling to come to their attention... Character Name: Subject 895 Character Race: Yahg Character Class: Yahg Gender: Male Age: unknown Height: 10' Weight: 800lbs Eyes: Black Hair(if aplicable): none Weapons: hands mostly, M-300 Claymore (used as a pistol) Armour/Clothing: Makeshift plate armor made from large pieces of scrap metal. Metallic steel/chrome color. Powers/abilities: Yahg strength." A keen sensitivity to movement and light allows the yahg to easily read the body language of any species, making it almost impossible to lie to a yahg." -MassEffect 3 " ...the yahg possess unrivaled perceptiveness and mental adaptability." -Mass Effect 3 Weapon mods: none Skills: Limited knowledge of engineering, great battlefield tactics, viruoso fighter. History/Background: Plucked from his homeworld Parnack by Cerberus, Subject 895 was but one of Cerberus' many attempts at creating a Yahg army. With the Yahg's natural ability to learn anything at an extremely fast pace, 895 was taught many different things on hand-to-hand combat, weapon use, battlefield tactics, and more. Seeing the engineers go around and work also allowed him to pick up on some things needed for engineering work. Yet, Cerberus did not establish a real dominance over him individually, which led to problems as Yahgs cannot function until someone is in charge. This changed during KH-01's coup, which established KH-01 as 895's leader, even if it was not intended. Along with the help of the other subjects on the station, and Cerberus dissidents, the station fell from Cerberus hands, and consequently out of the sky. As the station entered the atmosphere, it began to heat up, and break apart. This was the perfect time for KH-01 and Subject 895 to break out of a window, and into a free fall. Closing in on what should be/ would be a solid, splattery death, KH-01 used his powerful biotic abilities to slow their descent until they touched they ground, unharmed. Luckily, the planet was occupied by some batarian slavers, who KH-01 and Subject 895 then 'relieved' of duty. Not really knowing what to do, they just sat around, waiting for some calling to come to their attention... Also if someone could post a brief synopsis of the awe-inspiring -but hard to read- 112 page RP, it would be so very appriciated. :thumbsup:

I know! Make a skyrim rp. That would be wickedd

Between Skyrim and school, I dont think I will have any time at all to post here.

Dar'krinji Fort Floodgate, Holding Cells Out of the shadows, like usual, Kriak appeared. Contrary to his usual calm, suave entrance, he entered in a battle with a creature of some sort. After he pierced the creatures heart, he stood up bloodied and ragged looking. Dar knew that this was big, but obviously he had yet to grasp just how big. From the looks of things, it was very, very big. He moved over to search the corpse as the others asked Kriak of his travels. There was absolutely no discerning marks on the body, other than the fact that it was a vampire, and it did not have any sort of smell unique to a vampire. There was nothing Dar could use to figure out just where this creature came from, so he walked over to the others to listen to what Kriak had to say.

Dar'krinji Fort Floodgate, Holding Cells Dar had followed Lecuaro into the cells, and listened intently as he and the others spoke of war, and offensive defense. He thought that their idea of going to Kogoruhn to investigate was a great idea, though he really felt like just sitting in the keep and relaxing. Yet, almost as to completely erase the idea of relaxation, all his muscles began to clench and he heard a great roar through the room. The others obviously didn't hear, as they did not react, but to him it was quite loud. He cringed against the walls as a great voice boomed, "YOU THINK YOU CAN STAY HERE!? No, you are going, and you will do what I tell you. GOT IT?" Dar nodded, and the voice faded, leaving him shocked and with a very deffinate answer. Dar stepped over to the others and said, "I'm going with you also, the madgod so wills. And I guess I will lay off the skooma, for now."