RE: The Grand OC! [CONTEST 28: NEKKID]
10-03-2014, 02:06 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-03-2014, 02:12 AM by Sai.)
Username: Sai
Name: Ifri #0027
Race: Ifri-class Interceptor
Color: It's all numbers and letters anyways.
Description / Abilities:“The Em-Col scientists are always looking for ways to use what we have better. Often, that means making something that does the same thing but with less material, and this in turn means making something small. You guys all know what I mean when I say that this is almost always a good thing. Smaller means lighter. Lighter means faster. And faster, well, that’s what an interceptor’s all about. The Ifri has everything in miniature, except of course its engine. That means tiny guns, tiny sensors, even tiny forcefield generators. Our nerds have made forecefields so thin, you need to know special branches of mathematics to understand precisely how their size relates to that of atoms. If they weren’t solid to the touch, you wouldn’t even know they were there.
When piloting the Ifri, only these forcefields separate you from the vastness of space. You’re effectively suspended above the stars, with information projected on the field itself when you need it and left empty when you don’t, giving you unrivaled visibility on all sides. And trust me, where this little bastard takes you, you’ll need it. With twin hot reactors running through the blasters affixed to each side, this ship literally has to keep firing for about half the time that it spends in space if you don’t want its core power to get low and your life support to turn off. With an effective range somewhere between ‘seeing the whites of their eyes’ and ‘rifling through their pockets,’ the only way to fly an Ifri is to go in deep. And I mean magmal currents deep. There’s none of this ‘Oh, we shot a few missiles, they shot a few missiles, then we went home’ schoolpod garbage. When an Ifri engages, something dies. The fact that I’m even showing you this ship means we think you’re the best inty pilots the Em-Col is getting from your class, but if you don’t know you’re the best, you stay the hell away from this hangar.
If you’ve got the guts it takes to fly one, though, then there isn’t a sweeter ship in the fleet - except for my Ifri, of course. Every inty here can accelerate from a cold stop to a laser pulse faster than you can tell it to slow down. It can fly in deep space, heavy atmosphere, even liquid water if you’re lucky enough to find it, and turn on a dime in any of them. It’s small enough and agile enough to slip in under the guns of any ship it can’t kill, assuming you’re good enough. Luckily for you, it’s also got an AI on board to help you out in those cases when instinct alone isn’t enough to maintain the distance of a handshake between your ship and theirs while cruising at speeds your landlocked ancestors couldn’t even conceptualize. That said, it’s a piss poor pilot that lets his ship do the flying, and if you let the bot run the show and you aren’t unconscious or dead, then you will be after we look over the flight logs. Now get in, the Ifri will tell you how to use it. Anyone not out of the hangar in five isn’t leaving in a ship.”
Biography: Every shipboard AI adjusts itself to suit the personality of their pilot, but has some baseline values which are set up when the ship is first used. When Jack initialized the AI in his Ifri, he set all of the warning levels to their highest setting, making it notify him of every danger, no manner how minor. He then proceeded to take the ship through a veritable meat grinder of conflict, diving into the heart of every engagement and ignoring every notification that the beleaguered ship threw at him. Able to give as good as he gets, Jack would gleefully yell at his ship when he wasn’t barking orders at his squad, shouting over the various warnings to let the ship know precisely how great he was at flying. As a result, the ship developed an incredibly caustic and sarcastic AI, with a hearty helping of its owner’s superiority complex. It would follow even the craziest orders without question, but harp on every perceived mistake that its pilot makes, followed by the implication that they are willfully suicidal. It matches Jack’s rapid style of speech, with short sentences or phrases that can be quickly barked out over a ship’s communications link. Though it picked up more combat data in its three years of deployment than similar ships would see in decades, no other pilot was able to sit in the ship for more than one engagement as they found its remarks to be both distracting and debilitating to their morale. This string of failures left it deeply suspicious of anyone other than Jack himself, and unless he needed the interceptor, it remained unused in the hangar of its carrier. With Jack’s rise to prominence forcing him to command from larger vessels, it spent most of its time powered down and bored. When it was summoned as a combatant in the arena, it was delighted to have the chance to fly once again, in spite of the inability of the AI to fire its weapons without a living pilot.
“You want me to compete in a what now? Eat a dick. No, eat a bagga dicks. Look, just try to imagine these dirtpounders as tight little assholes. I’m a blowtorch. You won’t get a fight, you’ll get a mess. And, what, you think one-a them’s gonna try to fly me? Buddy, I put a fear of heights into a tenebril, and those bastards have wings. Most-a these shitlicks haven’t ever even broken the sound barrier. If you think I’m about to slow down for some rock humper’s delicate feelings then you gotta ‘nother thing comin’ and it’s comin’ in fast.”
Name: Ifri #0027
Race: Ifri-class Interceptor
Color: It's all numbers and letters anyways.
Description / Abilities:“The Em-Col scientists are always looking for ways to use what we have better. Often, that means making something that does the same thing but with less material, and this in turn means making something small. You guys all know what I mean when I say that this is almost always a good thing. Smaller means lighter. Lighter means faster. And faster, well, that’s what an interceptor’s all about. The Ifri has everything in miniature, except of course its engine. That means tiny guns, tiny sensors, even tiny forcefield generators. Our nerds have made forecefields so thin, you need to know special branches of mathematics to understand precisely how their size relates to that of atoms. If they weren’t solid to the touch, you wouldn’t even know they were there.
When piloting the Ifri, only these forcefields separate you from the vastness of space. You’re effectively suspended above the stars, with information projected on the field itself when you need it and left empty when you don’t, giving you unrivaled visibility on all sides. And trust me, where this little bastard takes you, you’ll need it. With twin hot reactors running through the blasters affixed to each side, this ship literally has to keep firing for about half the time that it spends in space if you don’t want its core power to get low and your life support to turn off. With an effective range somewhere between ‘seeing the whites of their eyes’ and ‘rifling through their pockets,’ the only way to fly an Ifri is to go in deep. And I mean magmal currents deep. There’s none of this ‘Oh, we shot a few missiles, they shot a few missiles, then we went home’ schoolpod garbage. When an Ifri engages, something dies. The fact that I’m even showing you this ship means we think you’re the best inty pilots the Em-Col is getting from your class, but if you don’t know you’re the best, you stay the hell away from this hangar.
If you’ve got the guts it takes to fly one, though, then there isn’t a sweeter ship in the fleet - except for my Ifri, of course. Every inty here can accelerate from a cold stop to a laser pulse faster than you can tell it to slow down. It can fly in deep space, heavy atmosphere, even liquid water if you’re lucky enough to find it, and turn on a dime in any of them. It’s small enough and agile enough to slip in under the guns of any ship it can’t kill, assuming you’re good enough. Luckily for you, it’s also got an AI on board to help you out in those cases when instinct alone isn’t enough to maintain the distance of a handshake between your ship and theirs while cruising at speeds your landlocked ancestors couldn’t even conceptualize. That said, it’s a piss poor pilot that lets his ship do the flying, and if you let the bot run the show and you aren’t unconscious or dead, then you will be after we look over the flight logs. Now get in, the Ifri will tell you how to use it. Anyone not out of the hangar in five isn’t leaving in a ship.”
Biography: Every shipboard AI adjusts itself to suit the personality of their pilot, but has some baseline values which are set up when the ship is first used. When Jack initialized the AI in his Ifri, he set all of the warning levels to their highest setting, making it notify him of every danger, no manner how minor. He then proceeded to take the ship through a veritable meat grinder of conflict, diving into the heart of every engagement and ignoring every notification that the beleaguered ship threw at him. Able to give as good as he gets, Jack would gleefully yell at his ship when he wasn’t barking orders at his squad, shouting over the various warnings to let the ship know precisely how great he was at flying. As a result, the ship developed an incredibly caustic and sarcastic AI, with a hearty helping of its owner’s superiority complex. It would follow even the craziest orders without question, but harp on every perceived mistake that its pilot makes, followed by the implication that they are willfully suicidal. It matches Jack’s rapid style of speech, with short sentences or phrases that can be quickly barked out over a ship’s communications link. Though it picked up more combat data in its three years of deployment than similar ships would see in decades, no other pilot was able to sit in the ship for more than one engagement as they found its remarks to be both distracting and debilitating to their morale. This string of failures left it deeply suspicious of anyone other than Jack himself, and unless he needed the interceptor, it remained unused in the hangar of its carrier. With Jack’s rise to prominence forcing him to command from larger vessels, it spent most of its time powered down and bored. When it was summoned as a combatant in the arena, it was delighted to have the chance to fly once again, in spite of the inability of the AI to fire its weapons without a living pilot.
“You want me to compete in a what now? Eat a dick. No, eat a bagga dicks. Look, just try to imagine these dirtpounders as tight little assholes. I’m a blowtorch. You won’t get a fight, you’ll get a mess. And, what, you think one-a them’s gonna try to fly me? Buddy, I put a fear of heights into a tenebril, and those bastards have wings. Most-a these shitlicks haven’t ever even broken the sound barrier. If you think I’m about to slow down for some rock humper’s delicate feelings then you gotta ‘nother thing comin’ and it’s comin’ in fast.”
![[Image: WFQLHMB.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/WFQLHMB.gif)