- Joined
- Dec 11, 2014
- Messages
- 13
- Reaction score
- 4
Character Name: Isobel ("Vex") Vexare
Age: 24
Species: Human
Gender: Female
Alignment: Neutral Good
Bio:
Initial Plans:
I plan to request one of the small utility ships and explore the galaxy, learning my way around my new home and gaining 'sea legs' so to speak. ((I'm very very new to StarMade and thus that is why I have created Isobel as very young and inexperienced with no true 'job' yet.))
Isobel hopes to eventually be accepted into an exploration and science team so she can travel freely and visit faraway outposts and assist in establishing safe trade routes and colony developments.
Link to any requested materials:
Black Line Utility Ship please and thank you!
Age: 24
Species: Human
Gender: Female
Alignment: Neutral Good
Bio:
The Daughter of a wealthy business empire mogul in the Black Line Federation, Isobel had an unfortunately sheltered and boring upbringing in conventional girl's preparatory schools and socialite organizations of which all she despised and rebelled against. Her Mother had feebly tried to reason with her Father to allow her some latitude into other areas of the Confederate Syndicate that might better fit her free-spirited personality. To no avail.
Isobel eventually began to teach herself basic piloting and navigation skills from 'borrowed' computer files she learned to filch from her Father's mainframe access. This wasn't 'technically' hacking since she had Dad's password which he kept taped under his keyboard, right?
Wanderlust hit Isobel hard and once adulthood finally arrived, she rejected all attempts by her parents to coax her into business management school where she would follow in line with all other "corporate drones" (her term for them) in her Father's financial empire.
After flunking out of her entry exams to her family's prestigious academy, Isobel's Father finally blew a gasket and said she could go work for the "Garbage Collectors" of the Galaxy. And by this he meant the Dinari Consortium. Privately, she didn't think that would be such a terrible thing - especially if she could get accepted into a cartography exploration team.
Secretly she had been spending time flying a small Black Line Utility Ship that no one would miss from the rows and rows of them gathering dust in a warehouse she had found in the mothball files. It wasn't easy getting a license for the craft but if there was one thing Isobel had learned from all her years of "Prep" school was that corporate drone boys would do just about anything for a few minutes alone with a girl. "Easy" is just a relative term in the bigger picture. Her schoolmates had done worse for a lot less. Deals needed to be mutually lucrative and that's about the only thing Isobel inherited from Dear ol' Dad - shrewd no-nonsense pragmatism.
It was this secret flight time and exploration that actually 'saved' Isobel when her entire known world basically disintegrated under Baalite invasion. The Cubatoms of everyone she knew had been incinerated with no hope of retrieval - but a lucky position in her own vessel's transitory path would 'eject' her own particle signature far into the reaches of the galaxy where she would be scooped up and unceremoniously deposited along with the stardust of a million others in a strange unknown galaxy. The Undeathonator where she came into existence was a quiet and utterly unknown Station to her.
This was, apparently, still the Confederate Syndicate States. Things were familiar, but yet - not. Everything was as if a strange mirror image had been made that was just slightly "off" somehow. Opposite of what had been. Here, she had no identity from her past, and yet there was clearly still the same 'order' to things and the same governmental organization.
Somehow, it all felt loosely knit together and seeping cubatoms at the seams. Nothing was 'normal' now and never would be again. The only thing that really disturbed her was the constant image flashing in her head (accompanied by varyind degrees of headache) ... a dark purple dodecahedron planet with swirling green stardust. It was both the end and the beginning of things in her new existence.
She knew, the only things she had gained after so much loss ... was madness ... and ... complete freedom.
Isobel eventually began to teach herself basic piloting and navigation skills from 'borrowed' computer files she learned to filch from her Father's mainframe access. This wasn't 'technically' hacking since she had Dad's password which he kept taped under his keyboard, right?
Wanderlust hit Isobel hard and once adulthood finally arrived, she rejected all attempts by her parents to coax her into business management school where she would follow in line with all other "corporate drones" (her term for them) in her Father's financial empire.
After flunking out of her entry exams to her family's prestigious academy, Isobel's Father finally blew a gasket and said she could go work for the "Garbage Collectors" of the Galaxy. And by this he meant the Dinari Consortium. Privately, she didn't think that would be such a terrible thing - especially if she could get accepted into a cartography exploration team.
Secretly she had been spending time flying a small Black Line Utility Ship that no one would miss from the rows and rows of them gathering dust in a warehouse she had found in the mothball files. It wasn't easy getting a license for the craft but if there was one thing Isobel had learned from all her years of "Prep" school was that corporate drone boys would do just about anything for a few minutes alone with a girl. "Easy" is just a relative term in the bigger picture. Her schoolmates had done worse for a lot less. Deals needed to be mutually lucrative and that's about the only thing Isobel inherited from Dear ol' Dad - shrewd no-nonsense pragmatism.
It was this secret flight time and exploration that actually 'saved' Isobel when her entire known world basically disintegrated under Baalite invasion. The Cubatoms of everyone she knew had been incinerated with no hope of retrieval - but a lucky position in her own vessel's transitory path would 'eject' her own particle signature far into the reaches of the galaxy where she would be scooped up and unceremoniously deposited along with the stardust of a million others in a strange unknown galaxy. The Undeathonator where she came into existence was a quiet and utterly unknown Station to her.
This was, apparently, still the Confederate Syndicate States. Things were familiar, but yet - not. Everything was as if a strange mirror image had been made that was just slightly "off" somehow. Opposite of what had been. Here, she had no identity from her past, and yet there was clearly still the same 'order' to things and the same governmental organization.
Somehow, it all felt loosely knit together and seeping cubatoms at the seams. Nothing was 'normal' now and never would be again. The only thing that really disturbed her was the constant image flashing in her head (accompanied by varyind degrees of headache) ... a dark purple dodecahedron planet with swirling green stardust. It was both the end and the beginning of things in her new existence.
She knew, the only things she had gained after so much loss ... was madness ... and ... complete freedom.
Initial Plans:
I plan to request one of the small utility ships and explore the galaxy, learning my way around my new home and gaining 'sea legs' so to speak. ((I'm very very new to StarMade and thus that is why I have created Isobel as very young and inexperienced with no true 'job' yet.))
Isobel hopes to eventually be accepted into an exploration and science team so she can travel freely and visit faraway outposts and assist in establishing safe trade routes and colony developments.
Link to any requested materials:
Black Line Utility Ship please and thank you!