Cytocorps - RP

[EmulatonStromenkiin he/him]

On 9/3/2022 at 10:43 PM, Channelknight Fadran said:

Re: Clron Velntan

Prolly should mention...

K covers the hard c sound, and s covers the soft c sound. C makes the "ch" noise.

Also as a rule of thumb, each letter only provides a singular sound. L and Y being swapped doesn't mean L makes all the sounds a Y can make. L exclusively makes the "yuh" sound, like in "yonder," and doesn't work as a vowel (like in Sylphrena).

All that said, Clron Velntan would be pronounced

Ch-y-ron Veh-y-n-tan 

Cyron Veyntan would be spelled Sêron Vântan

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I'll fix it, giving actual spelling and english spelling

On 9/3/2022 at 4:58 PM, EmulatonStromenkiin said:

here's mine:

  Hide contents

Name: English: Cyron Velntan; Actual: Sêron Vântan

Age: 20

Gender: female

Physical Attributes: dark, navy blue hair; faint patterning of scales covering forearms; blue-white skin; wiry strength; silver eyes; 5'9"; 100 lbs; agile; coordinated

Personality: High-strung, but a loyal friend. Somewhat ostracized due to her odd looks, is wary of pranks.

Backstory: Named after her father, who was killed by the Faiemen, she hopes to honor his name

Gimmicks: Enjoys confusing people. Kinda like a cat.

Skills: agile, adept at dodging shots instead of taking them. Attentive, excellent marksman

Other: scale pattern represents that her skin is actually stronger than normal, resistant to abrasions and cuts.

Preferred Modules: surface adherence on legs, sight-line covering left eye, concentration beam on right hand/arm, Extension Wire on left arm, or Broadshield on lower left arm.

 

[The Bookwyrm he/him]

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When's this starting?

 

[The Unknown Medallion he/him]

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Character sheet:

Spoiler

Name: Tánŕik Láyrin
Age (minimum enlistment age is 19): Just turned 20
Gender (birth, preferred; whichever): Male
Physical Attributes (appearance + abilities): Sparse black hair, it's hard to notice, but he's prematurely balding. He's short (5, 4) and stocky (190-200).

Personality: He's quick tempered and likes to know what going on. Even when he understands what's happening, he still likes to keep his options open in case of changes.
Backstory: Stuff.
Gimmicks: He hates nothing more than someone refusing to tell him something, and there is no surer way to make his temper flare than to have him find out you lied or willfully hid something from him.
Skills (in and out of battle): He's really good at taking in and processing lots of information at once. He's good at tactics, or at least he will be once he learns a little. 
Other:

Preferred Modules (Oho? Handy link?): He's always known he was going to want the Tactical Visor, but otherwise he doesn't know. I plan on him having two drove swarms and maybe some other stuff.

 

 

[Channelknight Fadran]

Captain Vinstosr let the recruits wait for a minute. Orientation (much too relaxed a word for it, he thought) was set at 0700 sharp. Anyone late would be given latrine duty without question. He could even see the lot of them from his room - it was once a storage room for the ancients, now repurposed for the commandement's quarters - all shifting and glancing about uncomfortably. Some even looked scared. They could be there as early as they liked, he thought, but every one of them would get to wait in the dull silence. Good for building character.

There were maybe four hundred of them this time around. His aides had already shoved them into ranks, sprawling out towards the back and filling maybe an entire third of the primary training chamber. Each one had been drilled into proper salutation stance weeks before training had even officially begun, and he even took in the tiniest flake of pride at seeing them execute it masterfully. Maybe the lot of them thought themselves the better for it. Whatever. Saluting was the easiest part of this regiment.

Five minutes passed. Some of them had shifted about a bit. He didn't care one way or another as to what they did when the commander wasn't watching: not this early, anyways. Whether they were hardy and perseverant no matter the circumstances, or let themselves hiss off a bit of steam now and again to keep themselves balanced. Either one was fine. So as long as none of them caused a nuisance out there, what happened was none of his business.

But now seemed like a good time to start whipping the lot of them into shape.

The Captain finally emerged, clad in full uniform, a jacket emblazoned with the Cytocorps Emblem and his myriad of honors buttoned right up the middle. His quarters hung high above the cadets: enough so for him to look out among them all like a king over his subjects. They all kicked themselves back into formation, saluting in full at his appearance. Some were a bit slower than others. Whatever.

"There are, as of today, three hundred and seventy-seven cadets in this cavern!" He started. "If I had my way, every single one of you would be faiemen-fighting material by the end of this regimen, and we'd have an army unlike anything the Cytocorps has ever seen!"

The most members the Cytocorps had ever had at a time, he recalled, was maybe two hundred fighters: but that was decades ago. Now, barely half that still had the strength and will to fight.

"I won't beat around this, you understand. This is no place for mincing words! I fully expect all but perhaps a hundred of you to leave these caverns in terror or shame! If this regimen is destroying your body day by day, then leave this place and never return! You'd be no match for a faiemen.

"And even then you won't have survived anywhere near the worst of it! By our estimates and calculations, if you survived this training, then you will die! Over two-thirds of all full Cytocorps soldiers are destroyed in their first battle! It's not until you truly understand the power they possess, the fear they invoke, the sheer perseverance of those creatures, until you have seen them tear your friends and family limb from limb, while even the power of the greatest structure mankind has ever created in your more-than-capable hands can do nothing to stop them!

"But I'm getting ahead of myself." The Captain pulled himself back into poise. "We will begin here. We will begin now. The future is always forever away, and looking toward it is pointless without any focus on the now. I am going to send you through hell and back a million times over. You are going to grit your teeth, clench your fists, and carry on! Anyone that can't is dead meat! I wish I could even say you understand what I mean, yet you don't! Everyone is so impervious to pain until they actually feel it.

"We are going to push your bodies to a million times the limit they possess here and now. We are going to sharpen your minds to something like a god's! And we are going to hone your soul like a blade of glass. You are all fine. Even. Smooth, pointless, and weak!"

His eyes had swept over the lot of them already, locking eyes with each and every one for just a fraction of a second. In those moments, he could see the intimidation. The way their bodies seized up despite their best efforts.

"Understand, young weaklings," he concluded. "We are going to shatter you. And then you are going to shatter them."

[Channelknight Fadran]

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Gonna break the rules and double-post rq. It's my own thread: I can do what I want!

From here on out, this is Roleplay territory! Any and all out-of-character interactions must be placed inside of quote boxes.

And also have fun.

 

[The Bookwyrm he/him]

Yisten Iyřan stood awkwardly among the other cadets as they all waited for the Captain.

He could see their nervousness in the way they stood and shuffled, in the way some of them whispered to one another. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel some of that nervousness himself.

The awkward air only got worse as they reached, then passed, the time that the Captain was supposed to come address them. He was late. 

But why? Yisten thought to himself. What's the point of making us wait?

After a few more minutes, the Captain appeared. He wore an official Cytocorps jacket over his uniform, which was decorated with various medals and awards. Yisten snapped to attention immediately, saluting in the way he had been taught.

Wait...he thought to himself. Can I get one of those jackets? The fact that the Cytocorps uniforms had no sleeves bothered him, not to mention that it got cold in these caves.

"There are, as of today, three hundred and seventy-seven cadets in this cavern!" the Captain began. That roughly fit the estimate that Yisten had made earlier.

"If I had my way, every single one of you would be faiemen-fighting material by the end of this regimen, and we'd have an army unlike anything the Cytocorps has ever seen!" the Captain continued. The other cadets probably saw this as a hopeful reassurance, but Yisten caught the words "If I had my way" at the beginning, and knew there was probably a catch.

"I won't beat around this, you understand," the Captain said next. "This is no place for mincing words! I fully expect all but perhaps a hundred of you to leave these caverns in terror or shame! If this regimen is destroying your body day by day, then leave this place and never return! You'd be no match for a faiemen." And there was the catch. Yisten stood listening, but could feel the mounting terror of his fellow cadets-and himself-as the Captain continued.

"And even then you won't have survived anywhere near the worst of it! By our estimates and calculations, if you survived this training, then you will die! Over two-thirds of all full Cytocorps soldiers are destroyed in their first battle!"

Yisten's eyes widened at that part. Two-thirds? He knew the statistics could have been good, but...were they really that bad?

Were they loosing that badly?

"It's not until you truly understand the power they possess, the fear they invoke, the sheer perseverance of those creatures, until you have seen them tear your friends and family limb from limb, while even the power of the greatest structure mankind has ever created in your more-than-capable hands can do nothing to stop them!"

Yisten understood that the Captain was trying to scare the cadets, make them understand how horrible the faiemen were. But Yisten had seen their horrors firsthand. He had grown up close to the surface, and his family had been fighting the faiemen for generations. He understood the helplessness that the captain spoke about, and while Yisten himself had only summoned a module once before, he clearly felt the sorrow that came with being unable to protect those he loved.

He had joined the Cytocorps for his own reasons.

"But I'm getting ahead of myself," the Captain said as he regained his composure. "We will begin here. We will begin now. The future is always forever away, and looking toward it is pointless without any focus on the now. I am going to send you through hell and back a million times over. You are going to grit your teeth, clench your fists, and carry on! Anyone that can't is dead meat! I wish I could even say you understand what I mean, yet you don't! Everyone is so impervious to pain until they actually feel it. We are going to push your bodies to a million times the limit they possess here and now. We are going to sharpen your minds to something like a god's! And we are going to hone your soul like a blade of glass. You are all fine. Even. Smooth, pointless, and weak!"

There it was. He was still trying to make them feel like the had no idea what they were doing. Like they were completely inexperienced, and even if they would do great things someday, they were infinitely far from being able to achive those great things. He was trying to make them feel scared and helpless.

It worked.

The Captain looked each cadet in the eyes briefly, and as he met Yisten's eyes, Yisten felt himself stiffen. He was scared, now. Logically, he knew he had made the right choice. 

He just hoped he'd be strong enough to follow through with it.

"Understand, young weaklings," the Captain finished. "We are going to shatter you. And then you are going to shatter them."

Yisten hoped that he would make it to that point. But he hadn't joined the Cytocorps solely to fight the faiemen.

He had joined to find answers. Answers to questions he'd been asking his whole life. And he would find those answers, no matter what it took.

Edited September 6, 2022 by The Bookwyrm

[EmulatonStromenkiin he/him]

Sêron Vântan watched as the captain emerged. She was about the same height as those around her, but in the sleeveless uniform of the Cytocorps, the scaled pattern on her forearms and her faintly teal skin were very evident. Her navy blue hair didn't help, but that was often mistaken for black. She waited as the General ended his speech. As he locked eyes with her, she felt herself stiffen involuntarily. She wondered if she could learn to do that, it seemed like it would be useful. With the final statement about shattering, her thoughts went back to her father, and a raging whirlwind of grief and anger filled her for a moment before dispersing and leaving her feeling a bit hollow on the inside.

[Channelknight Fadran]

"This regimen will consist of x phases!"

Krĵen looked up attentively. Finally: something other than scare tactics to listen to. Not that he thought the Captain was wrong by any stretch, but he really doubted that just words were gonna cut it.

"First up, we're gonna whip you lot into shape! If a single one of you so much as touches a Cytosphere Module before you can run thirty kilometers and give a hundred push-ups in the same day, I'll have your hide on a stake for the world to see! I don't care how hard you think a mechanical arm can let you punch, because right now you lot can't handle it!"

Sounded awful: and he could do over half that on a good day already. Krĵen swallowed, trying to properly imagine what kind of work just getting there would take... not to mention something was telling him that that would be the easy part.

---

"As soon as I'm satisfied the whole lot of you - or whoever's left of ya, anyways - could hold their own against a pack of wolves with nothing but a torch and a pocketknife, we'll get you started on the basics! I'm sure the lot of you came here just 'cause of that: hell, I can see half of you are already practically wetting yourselves with excitement." The Captain strode over to stare at them through one eye. "But forget it! If you thought good running legs and arms set with muscles are gonna do you through, forget it! If you thought the hell was over as soon as you get past my first phase, forget it! No module ever created works for the warrior; it's up to you to work for them! You'd best believe you'll be straining your weakest muscles to their absolute limit day by day just to stay atop of these things!"

Despite just how prepared she felt right now, Mângô tried to emulate the feeling of getting up every day to the same agony. It didn't work. The thought slid off her like old shoes on ice. Gah... it didn't help not to be prepared!

"I'll have you training on every single one of the modules we've got here on our beginners' list. I don't care that every soldier to make it past orientation only ever sticks to one set for his entire life, 'cause a soldier's no good if they can only fire a single weapon! By the end of this you're going to be a whole arsenal in and of yourselves: that's what makes you a Cytocorps warrior, fit for fighting the most powerful monsters this world has ever seen!"

Power. Unlimited, by the sound of it. To become like them, able to hold their own against a horde of unkillable creatures: that was it. That was the goal. Mângô stiffened, hardening her stance. It was as if her very soul had set ablaze to light this future, opening it to her mind's eye.

---

"After that, we'll have the all of everyone unfit for my regimen gone. That means you! That means the one next to you! I look at every single one of you misfits and see failure! I can't tell where the unlucky lot of hellspawn to make it to graduation are among all of you, because not a single one of you now are anywhere near what we'll have in half a year from now!"

She was looking inspired again. What a hero. Ugh. Melun withheld a sigh and did her best to keep her eyes off Mângô. All this talk about months of training and hell and dying was really... nasty. And there Mângô was, eyes glittering like a girl from a cartoon, staring out at the Captain and into grand visions of her future. What were all the people here seeing in this?

"Who knows if the next full corps of warriors will be three or three dozen. Doesn't matter now, it doesn't! But I'll tell you what we do once we rat out the losers. From there I'm going to take whatever tiny, unknown weakness you've got left hiding in you and rip it out! You are going to become swords! You are going to become armies! You are going to become warriors!"

Secretely, Melun wished they'd never get that far. Maybe after a few weeks Mângô would finally give up and set out to do something reasonable with her life. Even just getting through that first phase would just about set them up for any kind of life working the walls or fixing houses or whatever. Maybe if they were lucky, they could get certified in some other Cytocorps career and even get to work with modules every once in awhile, like reparing the shields or bussing supplies.

But knowing her sister, they probably wouldn't settle for that.

---

"From there, it's off to the battle." The Captain turned back to face them. He set his hands down on the stone in front of him. "And I pray to the gods that all the work I put into you dingbats doesn't amount to nothing, that you don't wind up torn to shreds or bleeding out or robbed of your very soul... but the gods know I pray in vain. Know now that the vast majority of you will never make it through this regimen, and even then, all the hell you endure will - by all rights - amount to nothing as you are completely destroyed in the battlefield!"

How many of them all had died so far? Of his own troops? Hundreds, for sure. Perhaps over a thousand. It would be more, had there been more to begin with. Gah... what a foolish war they were fighting. What purpose had those monsters in coming here in the first place? For what reason did they so relentlessly tear away at the last of humanity?

"But that's a long way off," he concluded, "and if you're listening to me right now, chances are you'll never even make it that far."

If only there were some other way to destroy those devils without sending out bodies clad in armor every day.

"That is all," the Captain finished. "Sergeants Domuy and Kestřn will direct you to your quarters and throughout the rest of orientation. Dismissed!"

@The Unknown Novel @Goob @Shining Silhouette @Enter a username @EmulatonStromenkiin @The Bookwyrm

Edited September 8, 2022 by Channelknight Fadran

[Enter a username]

Drentr heard the Captain giving the recruits his speech. He remembered being on the receiving end of it, not even a year ago. He figured the only reason he’d made the final cut was because he’d been too stubborn to quit.
He wondered, idly, how many would live long enough to see themselves retire, how many would die to the faiemen, or how many would–like him–have to quit from injuries. 

[Channelknight Fadran]

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Hey Enter, would you like to be a helper around the camp?

 

[EmulatonStromenkiin he/him]

Sêron listened impassionately, striving to keep a strait face as the captain continued to berate everyone. It made her former tormenters look like idiots ... well, more idiots than they actually were. She was glad that she was relatively good at pushups, though she wasn't at all sure about the running, it had been a while since she had run more than a few miles at once.

[The Bookwyrm he/him]

Yisten followed the Sergeants as they lead the cadets through the caverns the Cytocorps called home.

He was genuinely worried now. Physical strength had never been his strong suit, and if their Captain expected him and the other cadets to perform amazing feats of strength as part of their training, he might be in trouble.

He shoved those doubts down. Why do you think this is called training? he told himself. They'll push you hard, but work you up to the level that you need to be in order to do those things.

He was kind of disappointed that it would be a while before they got to train in Modules, though. The strange devices had always fascinated him, especially considering they somehow came from the Cytosphere. No one really knew how they worked; Yisten wanted to change that.

As he walked, engrossed in thought, Yisten noticed a cadet who had a strange pattern on her arms, and skin with almost a light blue-ish cast.

That's kind of strange, he thought, then kept walking.

[Enter a username]

4 hours ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

Hey Enter, would you like to be a helper around the camp?

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Sure. Why not?

[Goob he/him]

Jrda firmly stood at attention, watching intently as the commander finally strode into the main training hall. Took him long enough- though, really, it was her fault for coming nearly fifteen minutes early. And anyways, who cared. She was finally, finally here after so many long years of waiting- more than nine years, practically since she’d turned eleven and gotten the photo.

Oh, how ago that had been. The last year especially had been agony, after missing her first opportunity to join up after her mother had begged her to stay just a year more so she could get all her business in order and retire early. She couldn’t hold it against her, of course- god knows the woman deserved it after more than forty years of labor (twenty of which also spent dealing with her) and nearly eight years worth of flowers at her husband’s grave.

The photo he had given her was resting in her pocket even as the commander spoke. A copy, of course- she wouldn’t dare risk the rather fragile original being lost or damaged. That original was safe with her mother at home.

She did realize the commander was talking. She just didn’t bother listening- whatever it was he was spouting, it was either something she had been told, read, or expected, either by her father, her mother, the recruiters, her friends- nothing was going to scare her out of this. She’d had a workout regimen since she was thirteen, she’d studied all of the public files on modules and strategy and anything else she thought would help for the past year.
Her mother had called it an obsession, and honestly, she couldn’t help but agree.
But there’s the problem with obsession. It’s gonna take more than acknowledging there’s an issue to stop it. And all she needed was one. One faieman, dead in front of her, and she wouldn't consider her life a failure, on the likely chance she died. That sure, single, definite inch towards utopia, would be enough to put her soul to rest.

Sure as hell didn't mean she'd stop at one, though. An inch was nice, but a mile was better, and she would run, jog, walk, shuffle, crawl, drag herself halfway across the world if she could manage the feat. But first, she had to get through the rest of orientation.

[Channelknight Fadran]

"We've got two dorm rooms," said Sergeant Domuy, an oddly short fellow, pointing between a pair of large, stone passageways, each leading into massive caverns of their own. "Girls on the left, boys on the right. Biological, of course. If you have a complaint about that, take it up with Kestřn. They'll take the time to listen to you rant before kicking you out for good."

Sergeant Kestřn simply grunted. They stood between both caverns, arms crossed, staring at each cadet as if daring them to act up.

"Assuming you brought your things as ordered, just find a spot and drop them there. If not, we've got a few extra bedrolls and toiletries in reserve. Don't try mooching off us too much though: I doubt there's anything hiding in those closets without moths anymore."

[The Unknown Medallion he/him]

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Fadran, is there any labeling for which is which?

Jan clapped after the speech, then stopped abruptly when he realized no-one else was clapping. He followed the crowd, unable to hear the new man who was talking. As he walked he pondered at the Captain's (his name was V something, Jan thought, but he couldn't remember what it actually was for the life of him) words. Three hundred and seventy seven people. He had a feeling that that number would shrink after that speech. He was half convinced. Did the captain really want to scare the new recruits? It didn't matter. Jan had to stay, no matter what. Anything to understand the Faieman. Even if it meant getting pounded into the stone every day for the next half of the year, he would get back up if that meant he could understand them, or barring that at least learn more about them. As he followed the crowd he realized it split. Which way was he supposed to go?

[Channelknight Fadran]

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Yeah. It's called "one room has a bunch of dudes in it and the other room has a bunch of girls in it."

 

[The Unknown Medallion he/him]

1 hour ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

 

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Yeah, but also probably not super easy to tell in the middle of the crowd. 

Jan decided to go left, that was how you solved mazes, right? Always turn left. Not that this was a maze, but not exactly a bad rule to follow he figured. After a moment, he realized he was surrounded by girls. A glance to his right revealed a large mass of guys walking into the other cavern. He stopped, glanced around, he decided better safe than sorry and walked into the boys dorm.

[The Bookwyrm he/him]

Yisten followed the rest of the boys into the dorm. He didn't know any of them, but that was to be expected. He'd keep to himself. 

One cadet came in through the door a moment or two after everyone else, though, which was kind of weird.

Yisten found his bunk and placed his pack of the few personal items he had in the space allotted to him. Which wasn't much space, but that was fine. Yisten was comfortable with moving around, considering the fact that his family had lived so close to the surface for so long. Whenever a place they had lived was compromised by the faiemen, they had to move quickly to get to another secure location.

He didn't bother unpacking yet. He'd have time later, and they probably had a lot more to do with orientation. 

I just hope we get to the actual training soon, Yisten thought as he stood among strangers. Some of them chatted quietly, while others stood silent, like himself. The sooner I can actually use Modules, the better. 

[Channelknight Fadran]

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Anyways, this is the part where our characters serendipitously bump into each other and form lifelong friendships.

Who wants to go first?

 

[EmulatonStromenkiin he/him]

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I'd be happy to, but not sure who/how. do you have a list of characters and who they belong to?

Sêron sighed, and walked into the Girls bunk. She quickly claimed a bunk near the back wall, a place least-likely to get noticed.

[Channelknight Fadran]

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There is now! Check the OP

 

[Goob he/him]

@EmulatonStromenkiin

Jrda trundled out of the hall and towards her new quarters in the dormitory, backpack full of supplies on her back. She gave a quick, mildly angry look at Domuy as she passed by. It was insulting, honestly. We were all adults here, and it’s not like separating it out like this would help anything anyways. All it did was- oh, whatever. Not like she could do anything about it, for now.

She quickly found her way to the back of the dormitory, hoping that being farther from the entrance would make it less crowded back here, keeping the noise a little quieter. 

Picking a bunk at random she threw her stuff down onto its surface and sat down herself next to it, lifting the bag onto her lap as she began to unpack. While doing this she figured she’d get herself acquainted with her neighbors.
“Hey! What’s your name?” she calls out to the girl nearest to her.

[Channelknight Fadran]

On 9/8/2022 at 6:16 AM, The Bookwyrm said:

Yisten followed the rest of the boys into the dorm. He didn't know any of them, but that was to be expected. He'd keep to himself. 

One cadet came in through the door a moment or two after everyone else, though, which was kind of weird.

Yisten found his bunk and placed his pack of the few personal items he had in the space allotted to him. Which wasn't much space, but that was fine. Yisten was comfortable with moving around, considering the fact that his family had lived so close to the surface for so long. Whenever a place they had lived was compromised by the faiemen, they had to move quickly to get to another secure location.

He didn't bother unpacking yet. He'd have time later, and they probably had a lot more to do with orientation. 

I just hope we get to the actual training soon, Yisten thought as he stood among strangers. Some of them chatted quietly, while others stood silent, like himself. The sooner I can actually use Modules, the better. 

Krĵen decided to bunk next to this guy. He seemed nice enough. "Hiya."

[The Bookwyrm he/him]

25 minutes ago, Channelknight Fadran said:

Krĵen decided to bunk next to this guy. He seemed nice enough. "Hiya."

Yisten jumped slightly, surprised that someone wanted to talk to him. He didn't want to be rude, but he did not feel comfortable having an interaction this early in the training. They'd barely been here an hour, if that. But if this fellow cadet wanted to talk to him, well....

"Hello," Yisten said politely, not knowing what else to say.

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By the way, Fadran, I found your original Cytocorps short story in the link in your signature. Very well written!