The Concordant is a massive Mars class battle cruiser that travels between the desert mining world of Zonra and the lush shrine world of Nem. A fully capable battle station for Imperial soldiers and civilians alike, it houses the populace of a small city and is often used as a means of transport for citizens of the colonies along it's route. IC locations: Bridge: No civilians allowed, though people here can moniter people on any other section of the ship Mess 22: A dining hall Tavern: A popular tavern near the docking bay known as the Tyrants Boot (Default rp location) Docking bay: This is where smaller ships and civilian crafts dock and also features a market/Bazaar of sorts Brig: Jail Private quarters: Keep it PG13 please Other rules: 1: This is not a battlefield. Trying to start a fight on an Imperial Warship without a LARGE military force backing you is suicide. Don't try it. 2: No Orks, Necrons, or other weird shit. An Ogryn or a Ratling is fine, maybe even an Eldar merchant, but this is an Imperial vessel and humans are a xenophobic species at best. 3: No pulling rank. Do I really need to explain why? 4: No Erp. 5: Enjoy!
*This is an example of how to insert your character into the RP: Location: Tavern (Always post the location in which the post takes place. For example, if you character leaves Tyrants Boot and goes to Mess 22, tag that post Mess 22 to indicate you are no longer in the same room as characters still in Tyrants Boot.) Commissar Evangel (Name of character) walks into the Tyrants Boot. He is a slim, young man newly promoted to the rank of full Commissar, wearing the traditional Commissariat garb of a darkly colored trench coat over an officers uniform and a distinctive, skull adorned peaked cap. The tavern is relatively empty at this hour, though the few patrons present make sure to shoot the Commissar a respectful nod. He orders a glass of cold water and turns his eyes toward the Imperial news station displayed on the aging Vidscreen behind the bar counter. He is served by an aging human of oriental appearance.
Location: Tavern Commissar Evangel turns his eyes from the vid screen and scans the bar. It is, as usual, silent, save for the dull hum of the Concordant's massive engines. The few patrons present in the cantina include some pilots at the far end of the bar and some Ratling engineers in one of the booths.
Location: Tavern Armsman Felinid Alidah slowly strides into the Tyrants Boot. She looked around shakily, as if in fear of being jumped. She was a tall, lithe figure covered in chocolate-covered fur and a thin face. She wore the regular standard-issue armor of every Imperial Navy Armsman, though the edges of the chestplate were slightly clawed from pulling and tugging on it and she was currently unhelmed. Her large, green eyes scanned the bar until they landed on Commissar Evangel. She quickly raised her hand in a formal salute, trying to seem as uptight and correct as she possibly could. She was extremely lucky to have been able to escape Carlos McConell, the Felinid's planets, with her excellent agility and skill that was above average than some others so she did not want to be sent back or even killed.
Location: Tavern Staff Sergeant Alton walks in through the main door. He was definitely an odd one for a tavern. His slim build had bulges and grinding gear sounds from his left side under his non war duty uniform. He was wearing a clean Dusty Red-Grey Tunic camo blended in a 'chemical wastes pattern' like with 74th Mjoir Skitarii cog patch marking on one shoulder, with the other marking him 19th Valerian, and a dark red beret. His uniform was decorated with his past deeds including a Triple Skull and a Medallion Crimson. On his hip was his standard side arm a holstered Mark V 'Wraithfire' Plasma Pistol. His fake left eye scanned the room then he wondered to a free table and sat down waiting for a waitress or something. His eyes had skimmed over the off duty armsmen and commissar. He showed no special recognition of either since they were not apart of his regiments past or present.
Alidah, feeling a bit uncomfortable, silently slipped into an empty booth. She only looked down at the table and tapped its surface with a ash-colored nail. She didn't hope to get served so she just wanted to sit and relax without distraction. Or, much distraction counting this was a place filled with alcohol. Looking around, she finally noticed the sergeant and immediately perked up. Some may say she wanted to be a...erm, "affiliate" of the Adeptus Mechanicus. She favored their workings and religions, but was much too afraid to get cybernetics. She saluted broadly to possibly gain some favor with him. If she had one hour to talk to him...
He gave a salute back and smiled at the Armsman. He angled himself to sit with Armsman since it looked like she wanted to talk. " Yes, Armsman?" He was polite and careful since he was talking to someone from the Naval branch on which they rely on to get to the warzones. "You need something?"
She blushed slightly. "Oh, I'm sorry sir...I just noticed your badge and salute for all that you have done for the Mechanicum."
Alton looked at the badge on his arm with pride. "Well thank you for that. It is a past I am proud of but unfortunately no more. Where have you served?"
"The Valhallans as a regular Guardsman before I was upgraded to a Rough Rider. The top brass then moved me here." I say with a small bit of pride.
