 01:01:54 Pugs| Ginger or ginger biscuits are meant to be good. CanÂ’t remember if they worked for me tho |
12:51:00 Tia Mossy
Ooooh that's gorgeous |
12:50:28 -HEE Click-
I wasn't expecting that.. |
12:34:44 | I had to drink Fruit Punch Gatorade just to keep crackers down. Had to be that flavor, none of the others worked. Still works when I get sick. |
12:00:16 Cheeto| Lifesaver mints fuelled my morning sickness with all 4 of my feral goblins |
11:59:15 Cheeto -Click-
Here she is with a layer of black to show the shading! |
11:58:51 Fawn (Mystic) Anyone have recommendations for
How to be able to hold down food while pregnant? Every time I eat I literally canÂ’t hold it down including protein shakes now |
11:31:27 The Brindle Princess| Maybe the person will resend the message tomorrow |
11:30:15 The Brindle Princess| Gosh, I am upset right now, I just deleted a PM, I wanted to keep |
11:18:07 Ru| To make transition to tablet easier, use it as your mouse for a day or two, your hand eye coordination will skyrocket. |
11:04:14 Chey / Star| Does anyone want to help me stock search? |
10:59:39 Bug | KPH okay, you get pretty privilege *-*
-HEE Click- |
10:48:12 The Brindle Princess| Wondering if Athena will be online tomorrow |
10:47:32 Rapcoon | Jester ooh yes, that transitions always hard! I started with a mouse, now I use a wacom tablet with my laptop :D
I love it! One thing I reccomend is picking your light source(I like to do them from above like natural sunlight) and then figure out where all the big shadows will be :D
for example, I just sketched out in blue where big highlights would be, red is shadows :3
-Click- |
10:45:41 The Brindle Princess| Loving the different shades of grey horses, before they age up and turn grey |
10:44:07 The Brindle Princess
than 1 day
before you can use our chatbox.
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The Shattered Nexus
The Plot The year is 2487, where humanity has expanded across the stars. The galaxy is divided into several factions, each with their own agendas, alliances, and resources. At the heart of this galaxy lies the Nexus, a massive, ancient space station and trading hub built by a long-lost, advanced civilisation. The Nexus is the key to unlocking a mysterious, forgotten power that could reshape the galaxy. The once-thriving Nexus, a neutral hub where species from all corners of the galaxy gather for trade, diplomacy, and knowledge exchange, has been shattered. A sudden, catastrophic event – known only as the Fragmentation – caused the Nexus to explode into millions of pieces. Its remains are scattered across the galaxy, with factions scrambling to collect the remnants, known as Shards, that hold fragments of the station’s advanced technology and unknown secrets.
The Factions & Factionless Key Factions The Galactic Coalition A powerful alliance of human colonies and several alien species seeking to restore order and use the Nexus technology to advance peaceful diplomacy, or potentially establish an iron-fisted rule. The Sovereign Legion A militaristic faction led by warlords who believe the Nexus contains a weapon capable of giving them supreme control over the galaxy. The Starborn Seekers A secretive group of scholars, explorers, and mystics dedicated to unlocking the ancient knowledge of the Nexus. They believe that it holds the key to understanding the origins of the universe. The Voidborn Pirates A rogue faction of smugglers, pirates, and mercenaries who thrive on chaos and the black market. They’re mostly interested in the Shards for profit, but some among them believe the Nexus holds an even darker secret: the return of an ancient, destructive force. The Factionless A loose coalition of exiles, outcasts, and independent explorers, the Wanderers have no formal allegiance to any faction. Instead, they are bound by a common pursuit: unraveling the mysteries of the Nexus and surviving in a galaxy filled with power struggles. Unlike the other factions, who are driven by specific political or ideological goals, the Wanderers’ motivations vary widely, but they share a commitment to uncovering the truth of the Nexus’s destruction, and their freedom to pursue it.
Currency 1. Nexium (NXM) -
Origin: Named after the Nexus, the once-great station and hub of the galaxy. Nexium is the standard currency in many parts of the galaxy, especially in regions affected by the Nexus’s destruction. It symbolises both the prosperity of the old galaxy and the ongoing search for its secrets. -
Description: A digital currency, stored on secure data chips and electronic wallets. It can be exchanged for goods, services, or used for trade in different galactic systems. In some regions, physical tokens known as Nex Chits are used for smaller transactions. 2. Solari (SOL) -
Origin: Derived from "solar," symbolising the lifeblood of the galaxy’s systems—energy and light. The Solari is widely accepted across various factions and independent territories. The currency was once introduced by a coalition of spacefaring civilisations and has remained resilient, even in the face of political and social collapse. A lot of currency remains in the hands of a small group of very rich merancies as they claim rewards on their bounties. -
Description: A decentralised, secure currency often stored in high-tech wallets or digital accounts, though some remote planets still use physical coins stamped with images of the stars and galaxies. 3. Creds (CRD) -
Origin: Short for Credits, Creds are the most commonly used currency in the galaxy, popular among smugglers, traders, and mercenaries who operate on the fringes of the law. Creds are not tied to any one faction, making them widely accepted across the galaxy. -
Description: Used in both digital and physical forms, often in the form of electronic credits on a chip, but small bills and coins may still be seen in the black markets or on fringe colonies. 4. Shards (SHR) -
Origin: In reference to the shattered remnants of the Nexus and the powerful fragments of ancient technology that are sought by scavengers and factions alike. Shards represent both the deconstruction of the old order and the pursuit of the unknown. It’s a currency tied to those who seek the remains of the Nexus. -
Description: Shards are often traded in physical form, and may be linked to specific stations or factions. It is used to trade for rare goods or information, with powerful Shards being traded among elite factions and underground networks. 5. Galax (GAX) -
Origin: Short for Galactic Exchange, the Galax is a neutral currency used throughout the galaxy. It was introduced after the destruction of the Nexus as a unified currency that all factions could agree upon in the wake of the Fragmentation. While not as valuable as some of the faction-specific currencies, it is stable and universally accepted. -
Description: Galax is primarily a digital currency, though physical tokens with embedded chips are used for convenience in more remote areas. It is based on a fluctuating market that depends on the galactic economy, and it’s commonly used in trade and commerce. 6. Argos (ARG) -
Origin: Named after a legendary ship that traveled through the galaxy to collect rare artifacts and knowledge before the Fragmentation. The Argos currency is favored by those who seek out ancient technologies, relics, and rare resources in the galaxy's uncharted regions. -
Description: Often stored in digital wallets or databanks, but physical Argos Coins made from precious metals or alloys are used in the core systems. Argos Coins are highly prized in academic and archaeological circles, as they symbolise wealth tied to knowledge and discovery.
Rules • A minimum of a paragraph for each post and each character to further their story must be posted at any one time. • Your character cannot linger (No repeat posts). • Violence is allowed but no-one can be all-powerful but please stick to HEE rules and keep it PG-13. • Same with any romances that occur. • Inter-species romances allowed. • References for appearances allowed when following HEE rules.
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Edited at November 14, 2024 03:00 PM by Velaris Stud
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Character Sheet
Character Information Name: Nickname: Age: Species: (Human, Alien, Synthetic, etc.) Gender: Sexuality: Role/Occupation: (Explorer, Pilot, Scientist, Mercenary, Diplomat, etc.) Appearance: (Brief description, physical traits, clothing, notable features) Unique Traits: Faction Affiliation (if any): Personal Ship/Vehicle (if applicable): (Assign your self to a ship. Check the positions available on each ship before assigning or you'll be reassigned.) Backstory: Personality: Skills/attributes: Strengths: Weaknesses: Personal goal: Weapons and clothing: (Please assign at the beginning, things do not materialise in this universe) Personal items: (Please assign at the beginning, things do not materialise in this universe) Credits/Resources: (Please assign at the beginning, things do not materialise in this universe. So if your character is rich, use the credits available.)
Create a ship 7/10 slots available
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Everything will be edited as things start to happen. "In the ashes of the Nexus, we search for fragments of a forgotten past... But some pieces are not meant to be found. And some truths are better left broken."
— Unknown Wanderer |
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The soft chime of the morning alarm cut through the stillness of Rosaline Ziaki’s quarters, a sharp but familiar sound that roused her from sleep. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment before she reached out with a steady hand to silence the notification. The cabin was dim, the walls of the small room lined with personal effects— a few mission reports scattered on the desk, and a tablet displaying the latest crew logs. It was a personal space, though only slightly more than a glorified closet compared to the command deck. For a few moments, Rosaline remained still, letting the calm of the ship envelop her before the demands of the day would begin to pull her back into the whirlwind of responsibility. The Vanguard was deep in the outer reaches of space now, far from any known civilization. The kind of isolation she was growing accustomed to. Her only company was the steady hum of the ship’s systems, the low pulse of the life support systems keeping everything running. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, rubbing her eyes briefly, feeling the familiar weight of sleep still clinging to her bones. With a slight groan, she pushed herself to her feet, the cool metal of the floor beneath her feet grounding her back into reality. Her reflection in the mirror was practical—no make-up, no frills, just the clean, sharp lines of her uniform still neatly hung from the wall. Another day, another set of decisions to be made. Another day in command. Her fingers briefly grazed the framed photo of her younger brother on the desk, his face frozen in a moment of cheerful oblivion. Rosaline exhaled slowly, remembering a time before all this—before the war, before The Vanguard—but she didn’t linger long. That life was distant, a memory that could no longer take root in the present. With a deep breath, she moved to the small refresher unit in the corner, running water over her face, letting the cold sting wake her up fully. "Time to face another day," she muttered to herself, more a reminder than a declaration. By the time she finished, her mind was already shifting gears, focusing on the day ahead. There would be routine checks to oversee, reports to review, and, of course, the ongoing mission. The unknown stretches of space were still ahead, and Rosaline knew better than anyone that every day aboard the Vanguard was a day full of potential danger. She moved to her closet, selecting a uniform, and dressed quickly, her motions practiced and efficient. Just as she finished adjusting the collar of her uniform, her communicator beeped softly, signaling the start of her shift. “Ziaki here,” she answered, her voice still laced with the quiet of just waking, but steady as always. “Good morning, Lieutenant,” came the voice of Miki, her personal robot assistant, over the comms. "Everything’s set for the first round of scans today. Captain’s expecting you on the bridge in fifteen.” Rosaline’s lips twitched into a small, almost imperceptible smile. "I’ll be there." She straightened, taking one final glance at the small space around her. For all its simplicity, it had become a home of sorts. The Vanguard had become her world, and the crew, her responsibility. A soft breath, and she headed toward the door. |
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Quixor
The Vanguard drifted on the outer rim of a binary star system. Within the comfy confines of the ship, towards the upper deck, lay the captain's quarters. The clear wide windows, allowed the cool light from the two orbiting stars, to filter into the wide room. A chair, green bound leather, carefully stitched using Galactaur hair, a rare creature, one only this captain had seen on his own planet he had conquered, the hair harvested by the very furniture maker himself. Quixor's arms draped over the sides of the chair, his muscular arms creating cushioned dents. He pulls a smoke pipe from his mouth and blows smoke out into the air of his quarters. The light casting long shadows across his face, his topless body, casting perfect ripples over his sculpted muscles, his scars exposed to the coolness of the air. He lets go of the pipe, to which the ship retracted into the ceiling once he'd waved a muscular hand to shoo it away once he'd finished. He reached round the back of his neck and pulled another tenticle like pipe from his head. The biohacking chip had been fully charged. His pupils narrow, after being temporarily blinded by the suns upon the withdrawl of the pipe. He casts a long sigh into the cabin. He'd commanded the ship, using the chip in his brain, making sure the rota was complete for the day. He'd assigned his second in command to the bridge, even though he wasn't physically present, he didn't want to be disturbed. Not for at least a while yet. He summons back the smoking pipe and takes a deep breath. Riding that high.
(I won't play the other characters until they have a ship to move about on.) |
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(Sorry for short post) In the quiet, sterile hallway of the spaceship, a soft hum can be heard echoing through the metal walls. Rosaline, dressed in her uniform, walks with purpose toward the captain's office, her boots clicking against the floor with each step. She reaches the door and presses the intercom button. A faint crackle of static precedes the captain's voice. Captain: (over intercom)
"Enter." The door slides open with a hiss, revealing the captain’s office—a compact yet functional space, filled with the usual controls and monitors that make up the nerve center of the ship. Captain Quixor, sitting behind a large desk with a few data pads scattered about, looks up as Rosaline steps in. She stands at attention. Rosaline:
"Sir, reporting for duty. What are the orders for today?" |
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(It's fine no worries, you're other character is free to play. Again last post for me tonight!) Quixor
Quixor spins in his chair to face his second in command. He grumbles quitely, blowing the smoke from his nose. Maybe he hadn't been clear enough but he didn't want to be disturbed and his reluctant "enter" hadn't been conveyed well enough over the intercomm to his quarters, but alas Rosaline was smart, as smart as a captain could ask for, with his second in command. He did hate the formality though at times. He was very ralxed in his chair. Topless and slouching. He gritted his teeth to try and ease his annoyance, very rarely did people come into his quarter's. He sits up and pushes off the chair, swishing away the smoke pipe as it once again retracts into the ceiling, the room dark, only the sun providing any light in the room. He picks up his shirt and jacket off the back of his chair and tugs it on, his muscles bulging at the seams. He hangs it loosely, failing to do up the buttons. He turns, pushing his brown fringe out of his face, revealing those eerie brown eyes with an azure halo around the irises. He narrows them at his second in command, as she awaits her orders. An air of suspense hangs between them for a few moments. He turns to face the desk again, picking up his belt with his gun in it, ready to head for the shooting range for the morning's practice. "Follow me" He says short and curt. As he ties his belt into place at his hips, he walks towards the door and hits the release button, as the door slides open with a heavy clack. He walks down the hallway, his heavy boots ringing on the metal underneath his feet. He turns and faces an elevator to which they take it to a few floors down to the shooting range towards the rear of the ship. They reach the gun range, to which he faces his second in command. "Do you know the legend of the Nexus?" He says, asking her with a curious tone to his voice.
Experiment 42
A guttral growl rises from it's throat, it's sharp pale blue eyes bright. It moves and pulls at the chain that it holds it in place, the collar swinging on it's neck. It shakes it's head impatiently, waiting for breakfast in the captain's quarters. It's chained to the far wall, with a drain in the floor for the blood of it's meals and the slime that it's slippery, writhing body produces. It's arms clack on the metal floor, with the sound of bone making contact. "I'm hungry" It growls into the captain's mind. The creature stands about 8ft tall at full height but it's head swings around, inspecting the captain's quarters now, stands at 6ft. Another sharp snap and squeal sounds from it's razor sharp maw. |
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Rosaline
Rosaline’s stance remains steady, her expression calm but attentive as she watches Quixor with a keen eye. Despite the captain’s apparent annoyance and casual demeanor, she could sense the underlying tension, the kind that didn’t come from being disturbed, but perhaps from the weight of something he wasn’t quite ready to talk about. She said nothing, simply following his lead as he walked with purposeful steps toward the shooting range. The sound of his boots echoed, a rhythm she had long since grown accustomed to, just as she had become accustomed to the captain’s habits—his silence, his sharpness, the unpredictable edge that sometimes lay behind his orders. When they reached the range and he posed the question, Rosaline blinked, momentarily caught off guard. The Nexus. She had heard whispers, of course. Every officer did, at some point or another. The legend had been circulating for years, mostly in hushed tones, as if saying its name out loud would summon something dangerous. It was a tale as old as the ship itself, a secret of the Vanguard whispered from one generation of crew members to the next. She paused for a moment, weighing her words, then spoke, her voice quiet but steady. "I know some of the stories, Captain. But they’re just that—stories, aren’t they? Legends passed down from one crew to the next, with no real truth behind them." She stepped forward, her boots clicking softly on the cold metal floor as she set her eyes on him, meeting his gaze directly. "But if you’re asking, I’ll listen." She was used to following orders, but there was something in his tone—a hint of curiosity or maybe something deeper—that made her think this was more than just idle conversation. "What’s your take on it?" Her hand instinctively reached for her own holster, as if the thought of the Nexus and its mysteries somehow required her to be prepared, her fingers brushing the familiar cold metal of her gun, though she made no move to draw it.
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Calyx Calyx sat at the small, worn desk in the corner of his quarters, the dim lighting of the ship flickering overhead. He didn’t need to look up to know Experiment 42 was growing restless. The sound of its growl rumbled through the thick air of the room, vibrations that seemed to crawl up the walls. The creature’s chains rattled, pulling at their anchor point with a metallic screech, and he felt the pulse of impatience echo through his skull. I know, I know, he thought, pressing the heel of his hand against his temple to dull the psychic intrusion. He rubbed his eyes, exhaling through his nose, before slowly standing. The familiar weight of his captain’s uniform felt oddly heavy today, but he pushed the feeling aside. Experiment 42 had always been a demanding companion. He moved to the small kitchenette in the corner, eyes flicking to the creature briefly. The pale blue of its eyes glowed like twin moons in the half-darkness of the room, watching him with a hunger that bordered on feral. His fingers brushed over the metal countertop as he grabbed the fresh meat ration he’d acquired from a recent haul. The kind that Experiment 42 preferred. It wasn’t the first time he'd dealt with the creature’s hunger. Hurry, the growl surged in his mind again, a sharp, insistent jab. It was almost like it had become a constant presence, like an annoying itch in the back of his thoughts. Calyx sighed, moving to the small trapdoor that led to the storage compartment below. The faint scent of blood and decay wafted up from the depths as he retrieved the raw, still-warm flesh, its rich aroma filling the space. He could feel the creature’s attention shift at the scent, its massive form stirring with renewed energy. "You’re getting impatient," Calyx murmured under his breath as he reemerged, holding the meat in his hand. He glanced over his shoulder toward Experiment 42, the chains rattling louder now as the creature strained at its restraints. Its head tilted, eyes narrowing, and for a split second, he thought it almost understood the comment. With a soft growl that barely reached his ears, he stepped forward, offering the slab of meat. The chains between them tightened, and for a moment, the tension in the room thickened as the creature bared its teeth. Calyx held his ground, not flinching, just waiting. When the chains snapped taut, the creature lunged forward in a burst of speed, its claws clattering across the metal floor as it snatched the meat from his hand. It tore into it like a wild animal, jaws snapping and saliva dripping down its neck. "Eat, then," Calyx said softly, watching the creature devour the food. He stood a little longer, letting the silence settle in around them, before turning back toward his desk, his eyes catching the flicker of his comms device blinking red. Later. Let it finish. He was used to the process by now, the routine of feeding the thing before moving on with his day. Experiment 42 had been with him for years, and though the creature was unpredictable, Calyx had learned its patterns. The growling would pass, the hunger would subside, and for a short while, there would be peace. The quiet of the room settled over him as the creature fed, and for just a moment, the ship itself seemed to hold its breath. “Good. It’ll be over soon,” Calyx muttered under his breath, trying to ignore the small spark of dread in his chest. |
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Quixor
Quxior casually withdrew his gun, eyeing his commander. He took a quiet breath to remind his lust not to get the better of him. He tells his hands to find a purpose, to which he grabs a cartrigde from the side and slots it into the gun, the sound of a click, the hum of energy from the gun confirms that the ammo was now loaded and he was ready to take out his enemy on the firing range. "Well" he says, before he turns and firms up his position before getting in a couple of shots on the target 70ft in front of him. The blasts hit but not their intented mark. The holes rimmed with a faint orange glow at the blasts through the target, a whisp of smoke rising from them. He looks at his commander again. "The legend goes that there are 12 pieces of the Nexus" he pauses and fires again, a red energy like blast fires from the gun as he extends it outwards, his arms muscles bulging as he holds the gun in place. He pauses once again, puts the gun on safety and chucks it to the side before rolling up his sleeves and resuming. He looks at her again, the blue in his eyes twinkling in the overly-bright unnatural light of the firing range. "And what, might I add, would be the best way of trying to find out if the legend is true?" He asks her curiously. "There is only one thing that is more valuable in this universe" he fires again.
Experiment 42
Experiment 42 growls in delight, clicking and making tiny squeaks of approval at its breakfast. The blood dripping from its maw, as it hits the floor, it joins the bubbling black slime, turning it a murky brown colour, as bubbles its way to the drain in the middle of its confined area. The chains rattle softly as it finishes it's meal, as it quenches an insatiable hunger. It rises and uses it's slender like black tongue to lick its maw clean. It turns to face its master, studying him like a prized meal. It tilts its head. It had a feeling it wasn't going to be needed today. Another day of confinement to this very chamber. "Tell me.... a story" It hummed, the voice deep and calm. The creature loved stories, for it was the only way to pass the time, and dwell on the words, when confined away for what seemed like the safety of the rest of the crew. The creature clicks, with animalistic like noises. It shifts its weight as it waits, more patiently this time. It's blue eyes mirroring some sort of understanding but still yet, there was always some predatory glint in there. |
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