Roleplay: The Last Corsican

Share your stories about the Gothic Sector and your battle reports.
User avatar
(Former) Technical Tester
Posts: 140
Joined: 07 February 2016, 16:50

Re: Roleplay: The Last Corsican

Postby Puchert » 07 May 2016, 01:26

He knew it was a dream, what else could it be? Akon sat besides his closest regiments friends around a old wooden table in a tavern on a world named.... he couldnt remeber, he have seen so many of them. The table was filled with empty amasec bottles & other - more unidentifiable sorts of alcohol, probably local brewed. He remembered this scene, it happened almost 9 years ago, at a time his friends were still alive. It was a glorious night, right after the victory over a marauding band of dark eldar.
"...And then - And then, i run like a grumpy Grox was behind me, because her husband came into the room just as i took my pants back on! The look on his face was priceless!"
Everyone laughed hard, part because it was a funny story, but more likely because they had enough alcohol in their blood to put an Ork to sleep. And why shouldnt they? Tomorrow would their ship arrive & they would leave this planet to fight on another battlefield. Hanson continued his story:
"And after i escaped, who ran i into? Sergeant Grommor, this old bastard,he just looked at me and said: son? I hope for you that a good memory is all you got from that lady tonight!"
More laughter
Hanson died 3 months later in an attempt to destroy a traitor tank. His Plasmagun had a malfunction & overheated - he vaporized himself immediately at the moment he pulled the trigger.
"Grommor is a good Sergeant but Drammer here! He will be one day become a better one isnt that so Akon?"
Reddeck cheered towards Akon with a glass of .... he couldnt remember what Reddecks favorite drink was, but it tasted like motor oil. He wouldnt be surprised if that was in fact the secret ingredient.
Akon smiled towards his old friend: "Yes one day i will be sergeant."
Reddeck smiled back and drank the rest of his disgusting brew. He would find his end by a las-shot to his head 2 years from now, holding the line against traitor cultist on Primark 5. He defended his position with an autocannon on top of a Leman Russ for 20 minutes before the emperor called him towards him, buying the rest of his teammates enough time to retread and survive.
Fernandeccio leaned back on his chair and pointed at Reddeck:
"Who cares? One day we will all die it doesnt matter if sergeant or not!" - He didnt know how right he was at this evening. Fernandeccio would fall in the siege of Karbakx several years later. An enemy flamethrower would burn him alive, he died screaming in agony.
"I myself want to be with one women from each planet before i jump into the grave! Think about it? An awesome individual like me? it would be a shame if i doesnt make sure that my glorious seed continue and make as much kids as possible. An army of mini-Fernandeccios, that would make sure we would win once and for all!"
"If i catch you mating on my planet, i kill you personally..." Hanson spit out his drink in laughter as Birro said that. Fernandeccios head turned red & he raised himself more straight on his chair. Birro was a beast of a man. Behind his back some told that either his mother or his father had to be an Ogryn in order to explain his body, some rumors even got so far to say that he once was a space marine aspirant who just couldnt make it. He continued, his words hard to understand through the epic amount of drinks he had this night:
"And i tell you something else..."
Reddeck raised an eyebrow: "Uuuuuh, im excited what comes now?"
Birro Kicked his leg:
"Be quite, im about to say something. Am i the only one who hate Grommor? This guy is raising my blood pressure every time i see him. This grumpy old man couldnt get any stiffer even if he would sit on a Las-gun!"
The men laughed even louder.
"But you will die in his arms Birro..."
Everybody stopped laughing and turned towards Akon.
"Your body was full of grenade shards, Grommor tried to drag your heavy ass back into the trench but it was to late. you bleed out in his arms"
Birro looked at him with an open mouth as Akon continued:
"We yelled at him to let you go, that it was to late, but he couldnt hear us over the mortar shells raining from the sky. As he tried to save your liveless body he stepped onto a mine and - that was it for him too. He was a good Sergeant & a much greater man as we all together."
Fernandeccio leaned himself towards him:
"Drammer are you alright?"
Akon nodded and looked from one face to another.
"Yes i am, i enjoy seeing you all again - i really do! but this isnt real, it is a dream of some kind."
Hanson filled another glass with amasec and placed it before Akon:
"I do not appreciate your crazy talk on an evening like this. Drink and enjoy the victory with us."
Reddeck took the glass away from him and throw an evil view at Hanson:
"Hey let him talk!" He grabbed Akon by his shoulder.
"Ok, i`m willing to play this game with you. We are all dead and..."
"Its not a game Reddeck" replied Akon.
Reddeck raised his hands in apology:
"Ok ok, bad choice of words, my bad. But anyways - we are all dead, but what about you?"
Akon shrugged his shoulders:
"I`m not quite sure, the last thing i remember is being trapped on a ship..."
"A space ship?" asked Birro. everyone on the table looked interested now.
Fernandeccio snorted: "Of course a space ship you giant idiot, where else could he be trapped? A rowing boat?"
Akon smiled: "Yes a space ship Birro, something happen, some kind of malfunction, or attack or something. I`m not entirely sure about that, but i am stuck. I have to reach another section, but i cant find a way."
"Use the intern guiding system." said Hanson.
"Or ask someone?" replied Reddeck.
Akon shook his head:
"No one is there and the ship suffered heavily damage, the systems arent working as they supposed to be. I knew the way but i cant follow it. Airlocks have sealed both ways."
"Why?" asked Birro.
"One side is open to the vacuum, the other is sealed because of a fire..." For a brief moment his thoughts went to Maya...
"That is good"
Akon tried to focus back to the conversation:
"I said this is a good sign." mentioned Hanson while ordering another bottle of amasec towards a waitress.
Akon looked confused:
"i dont understand?"
"well..." continued Hanson: "I assume that when the firesystems still work, that means that the pipes are still intact."
Akon could feel how his heart pounded in his chest. He was right, the antifire pipelines run through the whole ship, and they were still functional.
All of his friend raised their glasses & sheered towards him: "Good luck Sergeant Drammer!"

Akon opened his eyes. His body was shaking, his clothes covered in a thin ice crust. The temperature had fallen rapidly. How long did he slept? How long had he been laying here? It doesnt matter. He raised his head to look towards the upper end of the hallway walls. There! A small ventilation grid, and behind that he could see some pipes and cables. Not big, but when we would crouch, he could move through it surely. He formed a thin smile with his from the cold blue lips:
"Thank you my friends..."
"We fight & we die in the name of the Emperor. This is how its always have been - and ever will be!
We are the Death Korps of Krieg & we will hold the line!!"

User avatar
Posts: 517
Joined: 05 November 2015, 05:38
Location: NSW, Australia

Re: Roleplay: The Last Corsican

Postby Kadaeux » 07 May 2016, 04:24

Unofficial Theme. :P

User avatar
Posts: 27
Joined: 22 April 2016, 21:30

Re: Roleplay: The Last Corsican

Postby Turest » 07 May 2016, 04:32

Routine. Routine was the most important aspect of shipboard life. At least that was what commissar Shedler believed. Keep the men and women of the Corsica busy. keep them alert and the rest will take care of itself, after all "Heresy grows from Idleness" - right?

He was having difficulty with the posting (though he'd never let the others on the ship see it). He knew that his duty to the emperor was the most important thing in his life. He even knew that the emperor worked in mysterious ways, but... damn if it was dull. Every day the same thing. Every day another dozen reports from the lower deck ratings of heresy and mutant happenings. EVERY one of them here-say and damn if he wasn't going to do something about it. Moving to the dark-wood desk in his quarters he removed a small data slate and began scrawling notes about how to improve shipboard moral... maybe that would remove some of this drudgery and keep him from slipping up should something real happen.

Some one once said "plans never survive contact with the enemy" - only in this case the enemy was the bulkhead behind the desk!

A loud clang, a long dawn out scraping and the dull "thwomp" of a shock wave hitting the hull. then a creeping darkness... the last thing to enter his mind was "and this is how it ends?" - he wasn't afraid to die. In fact he welcomed it, as long as he dragged as many of the emperors foes to hell with him as he could... but not like this.. sprawled out at a desk.


His vision began to return. First a fuzz. like a thousand fly's in his brain. then a bright white light as his eyes began to focus.

"am I blind?" was his first thought. until he realised control of his limbs had returned. Pushing against the hard surface that was the floor of his quarters he soon realised he was lying face down on an open copy of Dicturns Fate - a collection of poems from his homeworld and the white was simply a close encounter with page 347.

Grunting, Veratim arose from the ground and took stock of the situation. His quarters were ruined. His cot had been impaled by a ceiling beam that had crushed one whole end of the bed. His desk - that had survived but was now lying face down away from the bulkhead. and the blast shutters had sealed the window to the void. A ringing in his ears finally resolved itself to the warning klaxon that engages during battle stations.

The Bridge - he had to get to the bridge! as ships Commissar it was his place and his duty, Hurriedly he searched his room for his uniform. It would not do for a ships Commissar to be seen in anything less! a few moments later he had retrieved his blast coat and peaked hat. It was filthy. the Black of the crown coated in metal powder from the collapsing bulkheads no doubt. The thing that made him smile though, the large golden aquilla fixed above the peak shone like it was fresh from the factorum.

"The emperor protects" he muttered to himself as he donned both the coat and hat and made for the door. He almost made it too. when he heard the ships vox flare to life.

"This is 2nd Lieutenant Barnes, Bridge crew. The captain is dead, I am taking over command of this vessel. If there are any survivors, meet me on the bridge sub deck 12A. Repeat, meet me on bridge sub deck 12A. Over".

"Throne of Terra" he swore. If the bridge was smashed and the captain dead. then it was possible the enemy had boarded the ship! a quick 180 degree turn and he reached for his las-pistol and chain sword. they were fine weapons. gifted to him upon him becoming a full Commissar. The pistol was unremarkable in appearance with the exception of it being black and baring the symbol of the Ecclesiarchy. The chain sword however was fine craftsmanship, 36 inches long, 5 wide at the blade, It was balanced perfectly for a one handed grip. His favourite aspect was the chain itself. each tooth shaped as a wing of the aquilla, perfectly inspiring the idea of faith cutting through the heresy of chaos, It made him smile again. With his weapons fixed to his waist he sped from his quarters into what was surly to be an interesting day!
Last edited by Turest on 07 May 2016, 09:20, edited 1 time in total.

(Former) Technical Tester
Posts: 58
Joined: 09 February 2016, 21:21

Re: Roleplay: The Last Corsican

Postby Ghostrider93 » 07 May 2016, 07:56

It took him a few minutes to come to.
All was dark and blurry, he couldn't focus and everything seemed to go in slow-motion.
Everything sounded muffled and he had a ringing tone in his ears.
Slowly his vision returned to him, the ringing tone started too speed up with his vision.
After a few seconds he could see and hear again as he should.
He bumped his head trying to get up. Seems he got flung underneath the secondary fire-controll console.
While crawling to his feet he checked for injuries. Apart from a dislocated shoulder he got away with it relatively unscathed.
Save for a few cuts and bruises. His right leg hurt like hell though, but he could still use it. Lucky break this time.

As he looked around he saw bodies lying everywhere. Tech was damaged and the emergency lighting was on, be it flashing.
The Turret-dome was a mess. Most were flung to the frontbulkhead and smashed in the armour wall and controll consoles.
One individual soul was very unlucky. Sitting at the optical aiming station the voidsman got his head smashed into the optical scope.
The thin tube was stuck in his eye socket. Most likely went a long way in his head too.
When he looked at the poor bastard Adama suddenly felt sick and threw up on the deck. "Frack!"
He was no stranger to violence, but this... this was something different.

"Okay, better out than in eh. Lets see what we got". Looking around he noticed that he was the only one able for duty.
Most others were dead. His CO (Commanding Officer) was severely wounded and unconcious, but stable.
Adama tried to remember the first-medicae training he received at the academy, but he couldn't remember anything that would help here.
So he just bound the wounds of his CO and left him stable, moving on to the damage controll panel.

The damn thing wouldn't even properly work! All the runes indicating status and danger were flashing irregularly and intermittently.
One thing was clear: The damage to the ship was extensive. Main power offline, multiple hull breaches and vented compartments.
If the ship was to survive they had to move quickly.

Not sure what to do he scrambled to the turret status console and looked at the data:
-Focussing crystals Misalligned
-Turret ring damaged
-Main capacitor offline
-Main power offline
-Secondary capacitor low
Power Draining
-Air seal intact

The gun was damaged. That much was clear, but there was still some power left in the Secondary capacitor.
Knowing power on a ship is life he scrambled to secure the power left and refrain it from draining.
Even when he secured the power he knew it wouldn't last forever. If life support gave out the capacitor would cool, cousing the power to drain.
And that he can't stop.

Suddlenly the ships vox system started to crack;
"...iiiii 2nd Lieut..ant Barnes, Bridge .....
The caAAAAAAA....
In a rain of sparks and static the vox unit shorted out, silencing the voice.

"Well then, off to the bridge it is" he mumbled. He checked his equipment: His sword still intact.
His pistol too and still charged. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it, but who knows what panicked men can do.
He walked to the hatch of his turret, checking the pressure gauge, and taking the emergency kit hanging next to it with him.
Luckely the respirator was intact.
Rummaging through the pack he found an emergency clip-on light, only half charged.
No rations, just a flask of water.
An empty flask of hull sealant, and a uncharged Emergency Vox! "Damn, who checks these boxes!" he grumbled.
He would never know he thought. Probably turned into a mashed tomato somewhere in the ship, leaving survivors to deal with the mess.
Fully kitted out he checked the pressure gauge one more time. There is atmosphere pressure on the other side!
And with that he unlocked the hatch and set off to the bridge, hoping to find someone there to link up with.
He couldn't do much alone.

He had a long way to go. Under normal surcumbstances he could walk from stem to stern in a few couple of minutes.
Now things wouldn't be so easy... "The emperor protects"

User avatar
Posts: 55
Joined: 02 May 2016, 17:34

Re: Roleplay: The Last Corsican

Postby Jarrid » 07 May 2016, 10:33

Lieutenant Barnes descended slowly through the ship's upper limits, through deck after deck of wreckage and scattered corpses. Most of the narrow stairwells were intact but occasionally he had to resort to the emergency deck ladders to descend further when two of the stair sets were too damaged to step on safely.

The silence was almost complete except for the sound of his own footsteps and shallow breathing, as even the static hissing of the broken consoles he passed were only intermittent. He felt as though he was in some kind of mausoleum like one his mother had taken him to back on his home planet as a boy to see his ancestors. The cold echoing spaces filled with dead things brought him back to that time in a brief instant, and he felt as he did then that he shouldn't make a sound. He wasn't sure why, but he felt it might be some superstitious fear that he didn't want the dead to hear him, as he had feared when he was a child. He pushed the thought out of his mind, feeling suddenly cold.

While passing through a side-galley, Barnes took a moment to drink down a large bottle or stored fresh water in one of the cabinets. He drank slowly, then much faster as he realized just how thirsty he was. He was being stupid he knew. He was crawling through a dead ship in the hope of some other survivors having overheard his message. He made a checklist in his head of all the things he hadn't done and should have done, chief among them gathering any form of equipment that might make his increasingly diminishing life expectancy last a little bit longer. He also should have stayed on that comms equipment back in the bridge a little longer, and explained the situation in full to anyone who could listen. As far as he knew the chaos vessel hadn't found them yet, as they would likely already be dead by now if it had.

He stripped off his ruined dress uniform jacket revealing a plain black shirt underneath with several hoes in it, showing some of the white bandage underneath around his stomach. He then started searching the bodies in the galley and was at first surprised at how relatively uninjured they looked. He then noticed a regular pattern in all the corpses, in that they had scorch marks around their lips and mouths, which he had seen once before on his first posting. There had clearly been a flash fire in the galley, which would explain some of the scorch marks around the room. The fire would have been intense and incredibly brief as the oxygen was used up instantly. In that time all the people present would have breathed in the super heated air, turning their lungs to burnt rice paper but otherwise leaving them only a little singed. He tried not to think how awful that death would have been, being in agony and not being able to breath, burning from the inside.

He pulled a set of standard plate body armor from one of the security officers and slipped it over his head, wincing when it settled on his belly. The large man he had taken it from was far bigger that he was, and he spent another few minutes adjusting the straps till it fit comfortably. He then took the man's laspistol and 4 spare charge packs, checking first to make sure the weapon was functioning properly and showing a full cell. The armor had a medium sized general purpose knife attached via the webbing, but he stripped off the useless radio that was smashed and cracked on the shoulder mounting. He then collected a small plain backpack one of the ratings had still over his shoulders and filled it with some rations, water, a flashlight and a very small electronics toolkit with pict-plate.

He felt better for having some actual equipment with him now, and cursed his lack of thought and panic when he fled the bridge. He would be next to no use to anyone with no means to defend himself or assist others, and would have looked like some overdressed clueless aristocrat in his dress uniform. Barnes had been born into some money but was by no means ever part of the high society of the Imperial Navy or his own home world. He despised useless people, and surely did not want to appear like one himself.

He stowed his laspistol on the body armor holster and headed towards the stairwell. He wasn't paying much attention to anything which is why he almost jumped out of his skin when, standing in front of him not 10 paces away on the lower level of the stairwell, was a male gunnery loader. He was staring at him, unmoving, with his mouth slack jawed and open and his eyes wild and crazy, but staring fixedly at Barnes.

He actually knew this man's name. He was an able crewman called Jorkad, who he had under him as part of a work detail some months back when he oversaw some repair work to essential systems on one of the gunnery decks. He was a good man, solid and capable, always ready with a wry joke for the men and a solid suggestion for any work that needed doing. This was not the same man looking up at him now. His eyes were vacant, as if he was conscious but not actually seeing anything at all. All in all he looked relatively uninjured, but that slack jaw was slowly unnerving the lieutenant, especially when he saw a slow line of saliva dribble from the corner of his mouth.

"It's Here" Jorkad said, groggily, his mouth moving for the first time. In an instant he turned and sprinted back down the stairs and out of sight. Barnes was frozen to the spot, listening the jorkad's retreating footsteps as he disappeared further into the dark, echoing dead ship.The sounds finally faded to nothing as the man retreated into the darkness. Barnes stood there for a second, unmoving, feeling his heart rate slowly come down from the arrhythmical high pace it had just shot to. He had no idea what that just meant, but considering that Jorkad was the first living person he had seen so far and how he acted, he was now very concerned he was the only person on the ship who hadn't lost his mind.

In an almost unconscious movement he reached for his laspistol and thumbed off the safety, holding it firmly in his right hand. Steeling himself, he descended down in the direction Jorkad had just gone....

User avatar
Posts: 52
Joined: 07 April 2016, 14:49

Re: Roleplay: The Last Corsican

Postby Lt.Hargrove » 07 May 2016, 12:08

Jebediah was on his way to the bridge. His and surrounding decks had suffered relatively minor damage compared to devastation of other parts of the ship and were devoid of any signs of the crew, barring some blood stains. The voidsman slowly slided along the bulkheads, encountering nothing but the sounds of a dying ship and progressively colder air in tenebrous corridors lit only by red emergency lights. There was something... wrong. Maybe the entire crew was called off to stop some critical failure elsewhere, but what about the wounded? He himself was pretty beat up and struggling to walk, somebody had to be left behind. Well... someone could have died, no? Nobody would haul bodies in this situation. The more he thought about it, the more eerie became his surroundings. Finally, the man reached the level's main elevator. It's control panel displayed:

+ Caution... Main Power offline. All elevators offline.
+Thought for the Day: Even a man who has nothing can still offer his life.

"Just what I needed. Oh bleeding, I did not sign up for this." he spoke to himself. The pain in his back was overwhelming and climbing 40 stories of stairs seemed just impossible. Jebediah started to think of an alternative solution. There was a complete plan of the nearby decks on the wall next to the elavator, but he couldn't read a damm becouse of the darkness. Resigned, he sat down on the floor. "That is all I was ever good for - sitting down on the floor when things go wrong. I can't even die with purpose like that panel says." Then, an idea struck him. He completely forgot about emergency kits scattered frequently on the decks and such a central place surely had a one somewhere. How many times did he have to remind himself to quit being a wuss until he got that? After a brief search he found it. It contained rations... gah! completely spoiled... bottle of water, a glowstick... and this is hull sealant.

The glowstick allowed him to read the map and the only logical thing he could do was to reach the Medicae Station. It wasn't very far. Inside, the voidsman found the room had cabinets full of medicine and the instruments were all undamaged. Took out a jar of painkiller fluid, read the etiquette carefully and injected himself with the recommended amount. He left everything else untouched. Jebediah's senses became numb and his injuries hurt a lot less. Then he headed back towards the map to learn where the staircases are. When was nearing the elevator, his ears picked up certain nearing echoes. The man stopped and the noise of boots hitting the metal floor in quick succession became louder and louder. Kermin was about to move towards them, hoping to meet another survivor and hopefully get some answers, when a low-pitched whine of a lasgun firing followed by a scream of pain wormed into his mind. Someone started to talk loudly:
--- || --- EDIT ---||---
- Delavega! You are disobedient. I must take you back where you are needed.
- NO! - terror could be heard in this voice - It is madness, blasphemy, NOOO!!!
- You will be restrained until you calm down. I shall do my best to be understanding, but know that my patience has limits. We will now report back to boss.
- Don't you see what that thing really is!? By the Throne, HAVE YOU ALL GIVEN IN!?
- I will tie your legs now.
- From the lighting and the tempest, Our Emp...
- Silence! I had enough...
- From the bla...

As a thump was heard, the conversation ended, then a faint sounds of something being dragged slowly disappeared in the buzzing of a broken lamp. Jebediah was left disconcerted after hearing all of that. The escapee seemed rather paranoid, but what if... Everyone being dragged to that boss was unusual. That is where all the wounded and dead must be, but that doesn't make any sense. Kermin decided that he should report to lieutenant Barnes first. His way up 40 stories began.
Last edited by Lt.Hargrove on 07 May 2016, 14:55, edited 1 time in total.

User avatar
(Former) Technical Tester
Posts: 47
Joined: 08 February 2016, 18:58
Location: Athens, Greece

Re: Roleplay: The Last Corsican

Postby Samoth87 » 07 May 2016, 12:52

"Thus spoke me mother
one day i would steal
two lovely forged guns
in fire and steel
from Thollos's belly
to the smoke filled Infernis
gun your foemen down
to find eternal peace"

Who would thought that i'd feel kinda homesick..?Even "One-Eye" Jo's punishment for my attempt to take his place is more welcome than this freezing cold.The ship's Life-Sustainer systems are starting to fail and songs cannot warm my bones.You must understand lads that for a rock dweller like me who is used to the occasional shootouts accompanied by the constant heat and smoke of Mount Thollos's volcano, the current way-too-low-for-my-taste temperature is my hell...
Sub deck 12A...ok...but how the frag am i supposed to get there when all Internal Guiding systems are down..?I tried to use a couple of terminals to figure out the ship's layout but they were either offline or too damaged to be of any good.Someone once told me that if you ever find yourself into such a mess turn always left till you reach your destination...but lads we all know that this would never work right..?What a smack...
Anyways with my teeth rattling louder than the song i hum and my sideburns adorned with frost i've spent the better half of an hour bumping meself into dead ends.Unaccessable corridors due to fallen debris and subdecks ominously shut from emergency sealed hatches cause of some terrible calamity that might have occured during our wild attempts to escape from the horrors of the void...Never once have i tried to manually override the hatches fearful of what untold menace lied ahead.Frozen scuttles and latches hot to the touch were enough evidence even for an unexperienced crew member like me that beyond those doors were vaults of death meant to stay shut.A violent hull breach causing immediate decompression or whole areas of the ship surrended to living man-eating flames are exactly the contents of the nightmares i have since the day i set foot on this damned ship...and those nightmares became a reality too saggy for me to accept.
You see lads i always believed that i would die by the gun,exactly as i lived, but it seems that the Emperor has other plans and finds it suiting for me to lie here in my cold tomb.At least give me a fragging lighter to waste the last remains of oxygen sucking my sag into my lungs...

It was then lads, exhausted and defeated as i was, that things got an interesting turn...
Once more into the fray...

User avatar
Community Moderator
Posts: 454
Joined: 04 February 2016, 23:46

Re: Roleplay: The Last Corsican

Postby Owl » 07 May 2016, 13:52

Clank, Clank, Clank, Clunk, Clank, Splash

UNK13 stopped in his tracks. He was in one of the larger hallways of the 'Corsica', and for the first time since setting off he found his surroundings were lit by an eerie blue-green light. The Enginseer had been in a deep reverie, planning the necessary repairs and maintenance psalms that would be required to make the ship operable again, when he had noticed it: the stone pillars and metal decking were covered in a glowing slime, and a shallow pool of the thick, soupy, mass covered the floor for as far as UNK13 could see. The fairy-like setting contrasted with the ship's state of ruin, and gave the scene a fantastical atmosphere. UNK13 was amazed and mystified.

He walked carefully through the strange pond, sending ripples through the water that bounced off the far walls and columns in a dizzying kaleidoscope of light. UNK13 finally came over his shock and realized what this strange liquid was: one of the bio-recycling tanks on this deck must have ruptured, spilling its vast reserves of bio-luminescent cultures. Depite all the wreckage and dead the man had walked through, or perhaps because of it, UNK13 could not help but laugh in wonder, kicking up glimmering droplets in defiance of his grim surroundings. Finally he calmed down, and continued his now peaceful march to the bridge.

I thought we could use something to "lighten up" the situation ;)

(Former) Technical Tester
Posts: 58
Joined: 09 February 2016, 21:21

Re: Roleplay: The Last Corsican

Postby Ghostrider93 » 07 May 2016, 16:20

Lots of good stories here gents. Keep it coming!

User avatar
Posts: 55
Joined: 02 May 2016, 17:34

Re: Roleplay: The Last Corsican

Postby Jarrid » 07 May 2016, 17:48

Hi guys. I'm going to give about another 24 hours before I tie up this chapter and move on. It'll give you a chance to get yourselves near to the deck (but don't go in) and also for our one absent player to get a post in.

When the new chapter starts we will be including eachother in our posts. Remember that its fine to include other players in your post but show them respect and play them as they probably would act. Try and pm eachothet first too if the content is going to be in any detail. Remember to be cool about players using your characters as you can do it for them too.

Hope everyones having fun so far :D.

Return to “Stories and Lore”

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 2 guests