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Forerunner OC, WIPFull Name: Sradorah
Known Aliases: Pariah of the Breaking Dawn. Prisoner 4-19.
Age: Unknown, several hundred years
Height: 6' 9"
Weight: 168 lbs
Voice: Elegant, assertive.
Eye Colour: Hazel
Skin Colour: Lightly tanned white.
Rank: Dishonoured Warrior-Servant, Starship Captain.
White and purple form fitted body suit, with radio neck collar restraint.
- Strong willed.
- Quick thinker.
- Unusually strong, considering her size.
- Disregards overly authoritative figures.
- Holds no remorse for the killing of innocent people.
Sradorah never knew who her parents, or what rate/caste she overly belonged too and had a very simple upbringing in that of an orphanage. There she grew up, learning about the world and all of it's sights and sounds with the rest of the children that she called her friends. As the years went on she saw many unwanted children come and go from the orphanage; although she was neve
Ecoes of the past, P5Rksh breathed a sigh, moving away from his entry point into the ship, and also lowering his rifle to his side in the process. The airlock door closed behind him, and the transport he used for incursion, was heard disengaging it's docking clamps from the outside of the hull, before speeding away. He was now alone on the ship, yet not officially. He still had the communication link between himself and Kalia, but it was only a small comfort to be had venturing deeper into the ship.
The ship felt familiar, but at same time, completely alien. The ships outer trapezoid corridors were for the most part; calm and uneventful. The plate metal walls and floor felt almost new, yet unnoticed by the ferocity of battle, and the consent stream of personnel going about their daily duties. Holo control panels were lined periodically at set points at junctions in the corridors. Rksh observed these to be preset to their basic stand-by mode, showing only minimal information on the climate of the current ar
Echoes of the Past, P4A sharp drawn out hiss signalled the end of the decompression cycle for the airlock that Rksh was standing in. The process had finally ran it's coarse, it wouldn't be long before the locking clamps for the airlock door disengaged, revealing what was on the other side. The old Ranger fidgeted in his gear, reaching down to unclip the Plasma Rifle from his thigh. He would've preferred a precision weapon over anything else, but a weapon with a high rate of fire seemed more suited for close quarters. He was just glad he had one then to just use his hands to fend off the unknown beyond the door.
In less then half a second the locking clamps thumped open within their mechanisms, and the doors slid open to reveal the mystery that they had been hiding. Rksh griped his rifle tighter, while firmly maintaining trigger discipline on his weapon; as to not jump gun if he encountered a friendly on this mission, if any that the sensors hadn't picked up.
He stepped through the now open door, before chec
Rksh's JournalDate - Unknown
I'm lying in an infirmary as I'm writing this, with my leg containing numerous stitches and my head constantly throbbing from a sustained concussion. The pain in my leg I can deal with, but It's hard to concentrate when my head feels like it's been split in two, but I must accomplish this task with the inconvenience. It's the only thing I can do to keep myself busy before the headaches become unbearable, that or listen to the doctor here ramble on about herbal remedies. I've heard of unorthodox methods before, but these are ridiculous
I've been told it's been several days since I was pulled from the mangled wreckage of a Phantom, half dead and lucky to even be alive, (It hasn't been the first time either, but that's for another time ) After they brought me into medical they never expected me to live past the first day, let alone the next, and now they say I'm on route to recovery I suppose I should be grateful for the skill of these doctors,
Echoes of the Past, P3Inside the cramped enclosed airlock, the HUD of Rksh's helmet flashed into life and started a synchronization cycle with that of his life signs, energy shields, motion tracker and his equipment. Here he waited in the claustrophobic conditions for the cycle to complete, suited up in a vacuum sealed Ranger harness, adorned with an Anti-Gravity pack and a single plasma rifle at his side. All this weighed only a few several pounds, but as the years wore on for him, it felt as if it was only getting heavier.
I'm getting too old for this
Soon the HUD read one hundred percent peak efficiency, as a feminine voice soon broke the silence though the dull of the airlock.
"Synchronization complete, all systems green, life signs are optimal and the video feed is live and loud. Commander, we'll monitor you from a safe distance once we're clear, and maintain communications throughout. Once you're inside make you're way to the Information Centre and start the download of all dat
Dead Man's SwitchIn control, then not -
Sudden loss of grip.
Headlong to where?
Details lost, smudged, streaked.
Careening; no system of
No dead man's switch,
On a fast track -
With or without a god?
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More