Cervidae
ComNet n00b
[VE-NAVY] Crewman
Post Number: 2
Total Posts: 81
Joined: Nov 2012
Status: Offline
|
HI
|
|
November 18, 2012
12:25:06 AM
|
|
Yikes! Hi, I'm neeeew.
#clearly
BUT!
I'm reporting for duty! C:
Yay! |
Dunny
ComNet Cadet
[VE-ARMY] Corporal
[VE-NAVY] Petty Officer 1st Class
Post Number: 294
Total Posts: 438
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
November 18, 2012
12:28:47 AM
|
|
G'day there Cervidae, and welcome to the Vast Empire's Navy.
Always good to have more pilots, and I know from experience you're a good RPer, so it's exciting to have you on the team.
A qualified instructor will be with you before too long, so for now it's just a waiting game. However, it might be a good idea to start thinking about your character, as I know for a fact the first part of your Academy training will be to create your character profile.
Again, good to have ya on the team!
Trn/PO1 Sam "Dunny" Dunn
PLF Cappadocious/TF:Academy/3Flt/FC/VEN/VE
[SoA][M1(x2)][NAR][IG-HSC2011] [CRotS]
[1vM] [Scout] [SfM] [=SWC=] [VM] [CQB] [5.1]
|
Ellesmere
ComNet Member
[VE-NAVY] Petty Officer 1st Class
Post Number: 303
Total Posts: 311
Joined: Mar 2011
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
November 18, 2012
3:54:20 PM
|
|
Greetings Crewman Cervidae; my name is Petty Officer 1st Class Ellesmere and I'll be your training Officer (TO) while you go through the Naval Academy Program.One of my goals is to aid you in learning all about how to role-play as a member of the Imperial Navy in an on-going, collaborative story. During this stage you will choose whether or not you want to be a TIE Pilot in which case you will be placed in "StarFighter School" or if you'd prefer a position as part of a capital ship crew, there's also something we call "Fleet Schhol". Once this step is complete you are clear to begin Basic Training (BT) To do so, follow this link, and read the wiki page. Note that at the bottom of that page, you'll be prompted to choose a career path. If you want the thrill of dogfighting, choose Starfighter School. If you want the majesty of capital ships, choose Fleet School. Graduates of both programs are equally ranked, with equal opportunities for advancement: choose what sounds like more fun! Your next step should be to visit the VE Wiki page for your chosen School: Starfighter School, found here, or Fleet School, found here. Your first step is to complete Chapter 1, which is Character and Biography Creation. Once this is done and I approve it you are free to move onto chapter 2 and so on. If you have any questions/comments/or concerns feel free to reach me via ComNet PM as "Ellesmere" or get on IRC and look for me under the nick "Luckystar"; if I'm unavailable another member of the VENA Staff should be available to answer any inquiries you may have. Useful Links: • An overview of what exactly we do here in the VEN • The Vast Empire Naval Academy wiki page • The wiki page for Basic Training • Starfighter School: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 • Fleet School: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 • How-to-create-a-wiki-page Tutorial • Java-based IRC chatBO/PO1 Ellesmere/ISD II Halcyon Warrior /TF:B/2FL/FC/VEN/VE [MC2][MC1] TO/PO1 Ellesmere/TF:B/Raptor/VENA/VEN/VE [MC2][MC1] |
Cervidae
ComNet n00b
[VE-NAVY] Crewman
Post Number: 3
Total Posts: 81
Joined: Nov 2012
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
November 21, 2012
11:40:29 PM
|
|
Thank you so much for the welcome, boys 
I'll have my profile up soon! I just need to work on adding some meat to the background part of her story. |
Hades
ComNet Member
[VE-NAVY] Senior Chief Petty Officer
Post Number: 562
Total Posts: 1245
Joined: Nov 2011
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
November 22, 2012
3:45:41 AM
|
|
That's fine, Crewman. Thank you for keeping us in the loop.
Oh, one thing you might like to note.. Ellesmere is a female  I'm Hades, by the way, Executive Officer of Naval Training.
That said, welcome to the Vast Empire and I can't wait to have you flying with us! |
Cervidae
ComNet n00b
[VE-NAVY] Crewman
Post Number: 4
Total Posts: 81
Joined: Nov 2012
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
December 24, 2012
12:47:19 AM
|
|
Physical AppearanceHomeworld: Lotaith Age: 24 Species: Human Native Language: Galactic Basic Gender: Female Skin Color: Fair Height: 5’6” Weight: 145 Hair Color: Brunette Facial Hair: None Eye Color: Gray Scars: A long, thin scar traces her abdomen as a reminder of a nearly fatal surgery. Tattoos: None Physical DescriptionAt first glance, you wouldn’t take away much from this young, curly haired woman. She’s a basic height, a basic build; She maintains a fit physique, a result of years of recovery training to join the Naval Academy. The most obvious feature of this trainee is her hair – an entity with a mind of it’s own when left alone to it’s whims. It is already naturally curly and, typically, nothing less than a well-tightened bun has any dream of trying to make it managible. Yet the moment those curls are pulled back, the most striking pair of gray eyes are revealed while faint freckles brush themselves on her cheeks and a tiny mole sits below her lips. PersonalityAside from the classic hardworking attitude that puts most trainees into the Academy, it’s her ability to maintain a level head in high-stakes situations that makes her so valuable. Due to the fact that she will not allow others and their wills to affect her or the Empire’s plans, she does a lot of depending on herself. Besides, if you want something done right, you’ve got to do it yourself, right? That mindset has gotten her very far in life, for the most part, and she aims to go even further. Her hamariata, however, is this lingering sensation for wealth. Greed burns in her heart and it seldom shows any sort of backing down. Yet despite the ever present temptation, Cervidae's ambition and guts to go far in life keeps her grounded. Character’s BackgroundCervidae was born to a single mother on the planet of Lotaith. She was the only child and the only burden to a woman who just wanted to hide herself from society and the world. The child was nothing more than a mistake, an accident – A punishment from a power greater than the mother could ever begin to imagine. The mother feared destruction and anguish to come from the result of one terrible, tragic evening to which a child was made. However, the child was nothing more than just that: a child. She wanted to explore the world, learn, ask questions, meet people, interact with the bustling universe she had been born into. Never a word came from her mother, so the girl took to answering her own questions with the help of those around her. It was through her youthful curiosity where she discovered the intense beauty of flying. The moment she found flying, her curiosity turned to focused passion towards finding a method of unrestricted flight, which she found when learning about the incredible Navy the Empire had. From that day on, Cervidae wanted nothing more than to jon the Empire’s Navy, trying so hard to impress recruiters from the day she turned eighteen. However, sometimes we can’t always have what we want. On her first attempt there was a bit of a complication. She was on her way to the recruitment center when a freak crash (an accident on both parties sides) led to a terrifyingly close call in the emergency room, along with a three year period where she was left lying in bed with no chance for returning to the recruiter’s office. Yet, the bed-rest didn’t kill her hope of reaching the skies as a flyer; in fact, it only re-instated it. Even through the recovery, all the girl could see was the vast, unexplored temptations of the universe. The urge to leave the confinding spaces of life planted on the ground was her push and her drive to recover to the fullest so she could pursuit her one passion: flying. The recovery – although very painful and isolated – did occur and, aside from the long scar on her abdomen which remains to this day as a souvenir of the crash, Cervidae is more than ready to take to the skies. Cerv's Wiki
[This message has been edited by
Cervidae
(edited December 24, 2012
6:06:06 AM)]
|
Cervidae
ComNet n00b
[VE-NAVY] Crewman
Post Number: 5
Total Posts: 81
Joined: Nov 2012
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
December 24, 2012
12:48:34 AM
|
|
Yikes!
Really sorry for taking so long to get this profile out!
Lots of things piled up and I've finally found a breath to devout to my post
C:
I hope you like it! |
Ellesmere
ComNet Member
[VE-NAVY] Petty Officer 1st Class
Post Number: 305
Total Posts: 311
Joined: Mar 2011
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
December 26, 2012
8:43:00 PM
|
|
It's all good, we all have busy lives at times!
Your bio looks good and you have a good start on your Wiki - don't be afraid to make some minor edits to it as your career progresses and don't be afraid to expand your history and whatever else on there! Unlike a ComNet bio, a Wiki bio can be made to be MUCH longer! Some have quite an extensive history which makes for an interesting read.
I see you have your ID Line up on your Wiki, if you would add it to your ComNet signature - and then feel free to move onto the raptor story!
The story's entitled "Raptor  isaster" BO/PO1 Ellesmere/ISD II Halcyon Warrior /TF:B/2FL/FC/VEN/VE [MC2][MC1] TO/PO1 Ellesmere/TF:B/Raptor/VENA/VEN/VE [MC2][MC1] |
Cervidae
ComNet n00b
[VE-NAVY] Crewman
Post Number: 6
Total Posts: 81
Joined: Nov 2012
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
January 6, 2013
12:26:28 AM
|
|
As the eyes of others casually glanced over the other trainees, they would fall on one chair to where there was a young woman sitting painfully straight in her seat. Her shoulders were rolled back to reveal the seriousness she took in being in this huge room. The posture wasn’t exactly eye-catching, sadly, because it was hard to pick up anything terribly impressive about this woman at first glance, especially since she seemed to do a great job of blending in with the rest of the new cadets. In reality, aside from the rigid posture that most trainees didn’t exactly attempt to use, there wasn’t anything “striking” or “exotic” about the lady. Long, dark brown hair that seemed too curly for its own good was thrown together in a very messy bun and tucked up behind the nape of her neck, which was perhaps only a shade or two lighter than the rest of the girl’s pigment. The woman was pale, her skin shining very close to a light ivory in the lights of the room. It was not uncommon to find fair skinned women in this part of the universe, but the majority of them didn’t sit around and wait to be recruited into the Emperial Navy.
But, fair-skinned or not, she looked very serious about being in that room. Her posture showed strict discipline, which if accompanied by some type of impressive physique, might have really caught the attention of higher ups but there was truly not very much to see. In the Academy flying suit she was wearing, which at first glance looked untouched until this very day, whatever physique she had went quietly masked. Her sleeves were rolled down and hands were covered in gloves – Black, standard issue. That was the thing about this girl: everything covering her frame was standard issue. The boots, the suit, the gloves -- she literally couldn’t have blended in any better. There wasn’t a better fly on-the-wall or another-face-in-the-crowd than this young lady. Even the long, thin, pink scar that slowly snaked up the young women’s defined abdomen was covered without hesitation behind the suit. The young woman, right there in the front row of the silver folding chairs, looked like every other girl. Until, of course, you looked into her eyes.
Any other new cadet, if they weren’t too intimidated by their surroundings, had the same naïve and excited gleam in their eyes; they all felt like they were going to be the very best right there the moment they began their simulator. The problem was, however, that they truly believed it. None of them would ever begin to doubt their own “greatness," as they called it. You could tell they believed it — it was right in their eyes. However, the young woman’s eyes told a different story. She wasn’t like the other youths in the room, not by a long shot. Her eyes were trained forward with an intensity that rivaled trained soldiers with a gray that could pierce. They shone like polished metal from the way the lighting was hitting them, causing her to come off as unapproachable towards some of the trainees a few years younger than Cerv. Yet, it wasn’t because she was some sort of hard-ass woman trying to prove a point towards the younger recruits: it was merely a trait developed over many months of intense boredom.
Only twenty-three years old, the young woman had no intentions of trying to intimidate anyone. Despite the fact that everything about her either painted her as a hard-ass or a regular conformist, the only reason she was use to staring at one thing with unwavering attention was because it was second nature to her now. After nearly two years of laying on her back on a hospital bed, staring at things became a little hobby that refused to drop. It wasn’t exactly a bad habit, but it wasn't the most polite of things to do anywhere outside of a hospital bed or a military recruitment center. On countless occasions, Cervidae Sandor had caught herself practically glaring at passersby. Even worse, however, is when she couldn’t catch herself fast enough and the recipient of the glare spoke up about it. Cervidae wasn’t a bad person, nor did she intend to be, but there was almost nothing to her eyes besides that intensity. She had to pick very early on in her days in the hospital if she was either going to allow them to glass-over with apathy or sharpen with focus.
She decided that Naval recruiters would have appreciated the sharp eyes a little bit more.
Cervidae had managed to relax long enough to sink into her seat next to all the other new trainees despite the fact that her hands couldn’t stop a nervous twitch of clenching and unclenching. There was no actual reason to be incredibly wound up before the debriefing of whatever mission was to be achieved, but she couldn’t help it. From what she had determined from her quick glances over to the others, not all of them were new. The very idea of returning pilots left the strangest taste of content in her mouth as the shadow of heros past began to gnaw at her religiously. Those who came back showed dedication and strength in their features, reminding the girl that there was truly no such thing as turning back the moment she joined. Cervidae seemed to only tighten her posture as her heart rate began to rise. There had to be something -- anything -- to take her mind off of the pressure she felt.
The human was tempted, for a moment, to start up a conversation with another newbie next to her, but the sound of boots coming towards them sent her back into her slight feeling of anxiety. Not because the rumors of Warrant Officer Koate could intimidate even the most apathetic of cadets, but because it brought to realization once again that she was about to dive back into the recruiting process of the Navy. The last time she had attempted to do this, as her scar would remind her, she had been thrown into an accident that took her precious years and time away from serving the Empire. But, she survived. The girl was here and well, nearly six years later than she would have liked. But, the world is not a wish-granting factory, now is it, Cerv?
A man with fiery red hair finally turned the corner and sent a chill of discipline through the crowd of cadets, mostly out of the way he carried himself. Appearance wise, nothing jumped out at the crowd to point out who the man with bed hair was, which seemed to confuse the crowd of trainees who had no idea who this man was… But, Cerv knew exactly who he was before he introduced himself. They had met years ago when she was first familiarizing herself with the Navy program. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen at the time, but the memory of the determined Warrant Officer Koate had left a very permanent mark on her impressions. Those around her seemed surprised by how his reputation didn’t quite seem to fit his physique, but the girl had grown up putting the rumors to the face. The only thing surprising about him at that moment was the fact that he was there. And even though one might suspect that a familiar face would be reassuring to the girl, it couldn’t have been more unsettling if he even tried.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
If she didn’t maintain her calm, there would have been no reason for the rehabilitation in the first place. What did she benefit from having a panic attack? Cervidae settled herself down, gripping slightly onto the side of her chair to keep a level head.
"Today we will be running a simulated recreation of a relatively recent disaster for the Starfighter Corps, in which a few of our squadrons and a few enemy squadrons bumbled into a nebula and proceeded to dogfight. I used the word 'disaster' deliberately: in the nebula, communications and sensor equipment malfunctioned, and as a consequence, our casualties during the engagement were incredibly high, including a horrific rate of friendly fire. You will be flying into the same conditions faced by those pilots today, in this sim run. You will do better than they did."
Cervidae maintained the outward appearance of a cool and collected cadet, but her mind was racing and wrapping itself around the mission for the simulator. There was so much to be taken away from the briefing and yet not enough time in the world to truly digest it all. A shortened, more detailed synopsis had to be created in record time as the girl pulled back mentally from the conversation. Disaster. Flying deaf and blind. Friendly fire will be probable C.O.D. Yet, as distracted as she was with trying to figure out a survival method, the moment Koate turned on his heel to start walking away, Cerv had hopped up onto her feet like a spring had released and she was quick to follow him into a simulator room. Her heart-rate was already beginning to rise and they hadn't even entered the sim yet. If it weren't for the fact she was practically at the Warrant Officer's heels, she would have laughed at herself.
The room filled up with maybe fifteen other cadets before Koate decided to add on to his earlier speech. Although the majority of the time they spent in that room with him was taken up with the officer having a private conversation with a tech, he did eventually turn around back to the crowd with the same hard look in his eyes. "Now that we’re all here, you can go ahead and choose a simulator. Strap in, and wait for the exercise to begin."
The young woman could feel her eyebrow rise as her shoulders squared off in the second make-shift row of trainees. That's it? Tell us we're all going to die in one room and then not even humor us with a 'Good Luck'? You expect us to all die within the first few minutes, don't 'cha? The Warrant Officer wouldn't be humored to try to lighten the moods of the cadets, but the girl wasn't phased. Having already met him before, she was much more inspired by his realism than discouraged by it. She was going to find a way to impress him by surviving or die trying. It's all she could ask of herself. Cerv, placing her helmet on before reaching the door, quickly dove in and began to settle into her simulator. She strapped herself in and exhaled slowly, calming her nerves before her simulated flight. It was going to be a massacre, but that was all the more reason for the girl to keep her wits about her.
The sim started to warm itself up the moment Cerv strapped in, flashing the situation once again along with “Raptor: Disaster!” before the screen and controls brightened for pre-flight prep. The image that flashed before her was a hangar bay -- one that was incredibly realistic for a simulator. They were going to make the trainees feel like this was as real as possible, weren’t they?
Raptor Squadron flashed on the display of Cervidae’s cockpit as she began to wrap gloved hands around the yoke of the Raptor Four. A timer flashing “0:15” seconds appeared in front of her and the girl went quickly to plotting a game plan. As she chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip, Cerv was determining a few pre-known facts: they were going to be dogfighting in a nebula; communications and sensors would be useless; enemies and friendlies looked similar; C.O.D will most likely be friendly fire. Ten-seconds flashed on the screen. All right… So, how will we do this? Keep my wingman from meeting a quick death, eh? Guess that’s all I can do, in a situation like this... I'll just readjust the moment I get a taste of the fight. Until then, just fly.
3…
2…
1…
Begin.
Darkness quickly took over the simulator before a green light and the sudden appearance of a void brought Cervidae to her senses. She took control of her Raptor and didn’t waste a breath on panicking. There was too much going on for her to waste anytime on petty fear. With a sharp screech echoing in her ear as Communications failed and her screen flashing “Sensor Malfunction” in red block letters amongst the static, the situation was far too busy for anything that wasn't self-preservation. There was no time to allow to anything that would distract her as she flipped off her sensors, lowered the volume in her helmet, and raised her shields, giving herself some stability as to not crash her ship into her wingman.
That wouldn’t have been a very pretty way to start off this mission, now would it? The enemies would have liked the "two birds, one stone" method, but Cervidae wasn't exactly in the mood to make their lives easier. A roar of guns being fired had the lady ready to yell a warning to her partner, but she caught herself from making a newbie mistake quickly. She already knew that communicating with her wingman was officially out of the question, but thankfully they managed to fly steady beside her before something possessed them to take the lead with guns blazing. Her partner’s confidence was cute, Cerv had to admit, but it was probably uncalled for. Especially since -- from as far as she could see -- there was very little to determine who was who out here as waves of blind shooting mixed enemy with ally. Whatever visual markers that would tell them apart was blurred in smoke and flashing lights.
Right off, the woman knew exactly what her partner was planning. He wanted to get to the fighting as fast as possible and just burry himself in the dogfight, but that wasn't exactly her style of fighting. Rather than risk dying within the first few minutes of the battle (as a few of the ships had just suffered), Cervidae decided that her trigger-happy wingman had two options: continue flying and probably end up getting himself torn to pieces by crossfire or follow her lead and save himself a couple extra minutes of flying around. Cerv pushed forward on her yoke, quickly coming up from behind her wingman’s six and taking point. She held her breath, looking forward at the scenario bleeding out in exploding ships before she settled her decision. After a quick glance behind to make sure that he knew what her plan was, Cervidae took no hesitation in taking her TIE into a nose dive to avoid the hellfire of on-coming attacks.
Her breath held itself for what felt like forever in the brief seconds it took her to stabilize herself, waiting to hear the sound of another exploding TIE Interceptor to come from behind her, but no such noise came. After what felt like a moment of forever, the reassuring presence of her wingman came up at her side. Despite herself, a smile grew behind the protection of her helmet. As long as he could keep up and stay with her, they could at least be certain that they wouldn’t be dead within the first five minutes of this massacre. He trusted her to make the right decisions just as she trusted him to follow her lead. Strangers or not, everyone else in this nebula couldn't be trusted.
Recalculation: All right, I know what side I fight for. I know what side my man here fights for. As far as the rest? I have no idea where their loyalties lay. And vice versa me for them… They just want to take me down, to avoid having to risk the chance that maybe I'm not with them. And how am I going to know if I'm with them if they're shooting at me? Game plan: the kid stays alive and together we take down as many others as possible. Us against the world.
A ship flew in front of the girl’s TIE long enough for Cervidae to move her hands absentmindedly towards a shiny little button that locked missiles on targets. It wouldn’t need very long, just a moment so that the system could get a solid lock on it before missiles could be sent out and take down whatever was in front of her. In theory, that would have been the best and smoothest plan, but she stopped herself. Fast. Her hand pulled to the yoke and sharply sent the Interceptor in the opposite direction of whomever was in front of her. Enemy or not, she wasn’t going to risk her partner’s life for an easy kill. No, if she had to avoid using missiles, so be it. They were too risky for this early in the fight, especially since they weren't going to be locking for her anytime soon.
Cervidae turned her head for a quick second, looking over at her wingman still faithfully next to her before she could let out a sigh of relief and return back to focusing. In a nebula where you couldn’t determine enemy from ally outside the comforts of your wingman, what did it matter who you shot at? If you didn’t get the upper hand and fire first, the other in front of you was going to beat you to the punch. In a place like this, the term “friendly” didn’t exist. There was only one person on your team out here and that was your wingman. Only, the issue with only having your wingman on your team was that without communication, you had to pray to whatever higher power you believed in just the slight possibility that they could just follow your lead. She knew all this, deep down, but it didn't sink in fast enough for her. The idea of being completely isolated in a suicide mission felt unsettling and far too familiar.
With the ship that was once in front of her still in her sights, Cerv decided that the only thing that could truly benefit anyone was to take it down. Her eyes set focus to the aircraft, moving her thumbs to the triggers. A steady stream of fire took it down within a matter of moments as her own wingman managed to pick off another TIE before nearly gunning it to fly by his curly haired partner. He had already managed to be well ahead of her before realization hit her with a sudden jolt of her fighter. Without sensors, of course it would be easy for others to be able to sneak up on her; it would have been easier for them to open fire without a second thought. It seemed as if someone's wingman wasn't too happy about the loss of their partner. Or, even more likely, someone else wanted that ship to be taken down by their own hands.
Cerv followed her wingman towards the open abyss of space. Her screen flashed a delayed "Under attack" message, causing the girl to let out a laugh as she caught up to her partner's six. What? You mean someone sees me as the enemy? Cervidae dove under him, speeding up her fighter and pulling up in front before leaning left to make a turn to about-face. Sharp turns and constant movement would keep them alive, she noted as she evened herself out and returned fire on the attacking ship. The ship in front of her looked nearly identical to hers, especially as they continued firing. Cerv's TIE flew side to side, patiently moving herself out of the line of fire before she was close enough to cause serious damage. If her sensors could have locked onto targets and reported the percent of hit possibility, it would have easily been an eighty percent chance. And today, she was happily in the eighty. A flash of light shone in the dark as the enemy went down in flames and the two continued onwards.
Beads of sweat travelled down the nape of the girl's neck as a grin began to pull at her lips. The rush of taking down an enemy, the vibrations of the triggers in her hands, the way that the inside of her fighter, and the way her controls lit up in the light of her enemy’s explosion… All of it called out for her to get more. The type of control it gave her was amazing, especially as it felt incredibly realistic. Even she, the one girl no one expected to get back into any sort of Aircraft after all the agony it put her through, found herself falling in love all over again.
Another ship and their partner flew within firing range of them, nearing dangerously close. A thirst for blood was not her style, despite the fact that she was already finding a true enjoyment in taking down other Interceptors, so she hesitated them a moment to get closer but her wingman took right back to his trigger-happy ways quickly. He was faster to grip onto her “everyone-but-us-is-an-enemy” mindset faster than she was, it seemed like it. Well, damn… All right, all right. Embrace the thought, Cerv… It’s your only alternative. The only thing you’ve got to stay alive. With a deep breath, filling her lungs with as much air as they would take, she pressed hard on her yoke and went into a skirmish with a clear head and guns blazing.
The woman could have sworn she heard herself laughing as she and her partner took to tearing down unsuspecting Interceptors.
It wasn't hard to see that everyone was flying blind; the scene was truly the ideal image of chaos as supposed allied forces turned on each other and took down every ship they could get to. The only ones who had any chance of surviving total oblivion were the trigger happy ones with level-headed wingmen or the level-headed ones with trigger happy wingmen. That chemistry seemed to work just beautifully in a war zone that was decaying faster than anyone new could have ever imagined. It was no wonder that such a scenario could tear apart even the most seasoned of Fighters: a flyer had to solely trust their wingman the entire time and never stray too far from their side. If not, as a lone flyer just learned with a surprisingly well-executed missile shot from Cervidae’s wingman, it was an absolute slaughter.
The duo's K/D was steadily becoming something impressive as Cerv and her wingman continued to take down anyone in their way. “This is how the world works, isn’t it?” Cerv mused out loud, taking her fighter out of the way of oncoming fire before quickly turning her direction and sending the challenger into a fiery end. The explosion danced in the girl’s eyes as a toothy grin exposed itself behind the safety of the helmet. Even as she went back to her wingman’s side, the grin just as obvious. Where were they now? Eight kills? “Well, nine now… But this is the world. Right?” She called into the emptiness of her ship, feeling the burning of an intense rush course through her veins. “You can fly and fly, take out as many others as you can before ammo runs out, avoid death for as long as you wish… But in the end?” Her thumb rubbed over the trigger, allowing her wingman the time to gun down his target before she took out the remaining pilot that was now watching their own wingman go down. “Eleven… In the end, you become nothing more than ash.”
Cervidae knew very well her words only served herself with only static as her response. But, then again, how use to speaking to herself had she become? Days of being locked within a recovery ward where her only company for days was a nurse or two who came to check on her status. Although, to call them anything other than mere observers was a stretch since even they doubted her recovery. They (the ones who were supposed to act as her support) didn’t even bother to give her a conversation that meant anything. But, when did she ever expect those who were supposed to take of her to do just that? Cerv had enough years of fending for herself that it didn’t even phase her as she laid in a hospital bed, clinging onto whatever life she had within her system. It was just a surprise to her that every so often someone cared enough to ask her how she was feeling in between surgeries and consciousness...
A year.
That’s how long she was forced to deal with doctors tearing her apart and stitching her back together to make sure that shards of metal and glass didn’t pulse through her body and turn her heart into a shredded mess. And, on top of the shrapmetal that threatened to end her life with the pulse of her heart, the actual chunks of metal that managed to dig themselves deeper into her body than was permutable for comfort lodged themselves so close to vital organs that no doctor at the clinic was comfortable with attempting while avoiding the use of actually taking her apart piece by piece and replacing it with robotics. The fact that all she had as a physical reminder was the pink scar on her abdomen was impressive enough, but not surprising. She was young; only twenty by the time the surgery was deemed completed. Her body had managed to heal up the majority of the other scars. Now, as to why the doctors decided that the slow and painful method of surgery was deemed logical, Cerv had no idea. Apparently, according to one of the nurses that would respond to her questions, her mother had managed to crawl out of her hole of a bedroom long enough to permit the doctors to use Cervidae as a test subject to a method of surgery that could save someone in critical status without the need of bionic enhancements.
The idea to this very day blew the girl’s mind. She knew damn well that if the doctors had just gone in and replaced everything broken with a cybernetic skeleton, she would have been back on her feet and in recovery much faster. But, no. Her mother, for whatever reason, decided to take the lengthy process in trying to keep her daughter alive. However, despite the fact that Cervidae was literally in the hospital for two years, eight months, and thirteen days, Anneria Fay Valore Sandor never managed to come see her bed-ridden child. That fact by itself, totally ignoring the fact that the two had lived in the same house for eighteen years and didn’t speak for the final nine, left Cerv to just believe that her mother accepted some crazy doctors idea and then expected the girl to die.
It would not've been a very difficult idea to believe in, especially since there were enough vivid memories to entertain the girl’s fancy about the almost constant death wishes her mother would throw at her as she was growing up. Yet, even that, it seems, was too much interaction for the “victim” of the century. So, on Cervidae Sandor’s ninth birthday, the woman merely gave the girl what seemed like a kurt nod and then proceeded to never speak to her daughter again. And it was only during rare encounters when both women would find themselves in the same room and Anneria would glance in Cervidae’s direction…
The sound of a ship's engines roaring dangerously close to her TIE shook Cervidae back to her senses. No, dammit, this isn’t the time to day-dream… Her pulse was pounding in her ears as the most unsettling cold sweat to crawl over her skin underneath her flight suit. This was a battle; dwelling on the past only served as a death wish. None of the other flyers would give her time to reminisce on painful things without setting their guns on her and taking her down; such a death was most certainly not her goal. It was time for here and now. Her here was inside of a TIE; her now was keeping her wingman alive. Anything -- absolutely anything -- else was just a waste of her time and energy.
Cervidae could feel the rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins as the Twin Ion Engines of her Interceptor drove out the past. There was nothing that the young woman wasn’t ready for and she knew that better than any simulated enemy could. She sunk into her chair, pushing her ship forward and setting an unlocked missile onto a ship.
Boom.
A sound that had become all too familiar at that point for the girl, but the sensation growing inside of her was new. As the roar of the engines mixed with the destruction of another ship, Cerv could have sworn that the feeling felt too much like lust than basic adrenaline or satisfaction. Although she would not admit it to herself just yet, the sneaking feeling that perhaps she was allowing herself to fall into a cycle of blood lust was as unsettling as it was exciting for the young human. For so long, it had only been money that gave her the same rush. The cold harshness of currency spoke right to her soul, digging in and festering to the point where she had deemed it her own personal hamariata when dealing with the real world. But, now, here, in the cockpit of her TIE Interceptor, the girl found herself falling in love all over again… But with destroying the enemy.
Yet, even fun like taking down the bad guy had to end at some point. Realistically, she noted coldly, the steady stream of bullets that continuously poured out of her guns would only last another fifteen minutes maximum before the last of them left in her ship as she was stuck out of munitions. Her wingman was probably worse off than she was, especially since he was still using his guns as if ammo was as unlimited as the nebula. Cerv knew she could still rely on speed and her remaining missiles if it came down to the worst of it, but then it was certain that whatever she had left was to be used to defend the only partner that she had in the slaughter. If all ended in her own death, which was currently the predicted future, her wingman would still have a chance and the twelve kills they had managed to collect made his life a little easier; twelve kills now was the same as twelve other Interceptors that he wouldn’t have to worry about later.
“No need to thank me, Three, I’m sure you’ll make it up to me somehow. I’m not sure how, but -- hey -- you seem to be very creative. You’ll find a way.“ A laugh filled the cockpit as silence echoed back from the still-shot communications.
With a steady hand, the woman decided that playing around was officially over. She had nothing better to do with her remaining ammo than to use it on anything that flew by in front of her. Be it actual ships or just the remains of them, they all felt the wrath of steady ammunitions. She did countless things; from a kill assist to an actual takedown, she made sure she had a part in it.
The ghost of a smile remained on Cervidae's face as her Interceptor turned back towards her wingman's. There was absolutely nothing left for her to do here; especially since everything within her cockpit flashed warnings about failures and critical needs. Her shields, which had manage to survive the majority of the battle, were annihilated in the last attack and left the TIE open to be shredded by well-shot bullets. Cerv turned her head, cringing at the whiplash in her neck as she looked to locate her wingman. And, sure as the sun powering the Interceptors, his ship pulled up to return him to her side. The woman nodded to herself, turning her attention back to in front of her. Her plan had worked to take most of the damage, but she was sure that even he knew he wouldn't last very much longer out here without her as backup. Those who still remained in the fight were turning on each-other, attempting to keep themselves alive but expecting their wingmen to act like disposable shields. The sight, in it's purest Form, was appalling... But, survival was just instinct. They couldn't be blamed for that...
Her Interceptor jolted, shaking the whole ship as the engines began to malfunction from the barrage of constant attacking. Cervidae's hands merely moved to flip off all the warnings with the flick of a few buttons. She wasn't going to survive, that she already knew, but at least she had managed to make her partner's life a little easier by assisting in the taking down of roughly fifteen ships. And, on top of the fewer enemies, the boy was fast. If just maybe he could survive a little longer then perhaps he would find an opening to escape and take his chance-
There was no point in continuing that thought. It was nothing more than a little wishful thinking on her part since she already knew her partner better than that. He wasn't going to fail this mission by turning and running; he would fight this battle until he accomplished some form of heroic action to avenge her. He'll go out in flames, guns blazing. Now, that sounds more his speed... Her smile was back, readjusting as she took a protective stance by her wingman's side.
Deep breath.
The roar of the engines, the boom of fellow TIEs exploding, and the pounding of her own heart did nothing to distract her at this point. One of her hands gently stroked the dashboard of the cockpit as if it was petting a small animal as her other hand eased its grip on the yoke. A murmur of thanks was given along with other reassuring words to the battered TIE before Cerv's gray eyes caught sight of a threat setting their guns on the duo. "All right, partner... It's been a blast flying with you. You had better avenge me in some sort of badass manner, you here me?" Empty calling once again, but she could have sworn she heard someone laughing on the other end of her comm.
Cervidae brought both hands to her yoke as she turned off and charged her ship towards her mirror image. It seemed to pick up on what she was doing, but perhaps a little too late. By the time that it had turned it's gun off of the woman's wingman and onto her, the collision was certain. Even if her sensor equipment would have reported that the hit only had a ninety-five percent chance of hitting, the reality was one hundred. To make sure of that, Cerv's hands never left the yoke. There wasn't a chance that she would allow herself the liberty of ejecting herself out of an aircraft when she had discovered so long ago how very good she was at crashing them. Had she not already accepted the reality of her own suicide, she probably would have laughed at her own sick joke. Instead, she pushed herself into top speed and rammed herself directly head-on with the Interceptor. Her eyes remained open, too stunned at the fact that she actually went through with the plan, as the world around her seemed to freeze.
SIMULATOR FAILED. PILOT SUICIDE.
Right before her eyes, the shrapmetal that was threatening to impale her in her seat was gone. Vanished. Along with the rest of the nebula scene. Cervidae, very much alive, was sitting strapped into her seat with her hands clenched around the simulator's yoke. She was no longer flying around in space; she was not the fried corpse of a suicide flyer. No, she was just a trainee who took a sim a little too seriously. Her heart-rate was too strong for it's own good, giving strength to bitter flashbacks that just didn't seem to go away the longer she sat still. Cerv wanted nothing more to just take off her helmet and take in a fresh breath, but her hands didn't seem to function. Nothing seemed to function at that moment. Her lungs didn't want breath and her eyes didn't want to close. The fact that she had actually gone along with her own suicide idea was too traumatic for the moment. The human was going to pay for that tonight with nightmares.
She sat in silence, her body rigid, for another minute as the screen in front of her flashed "Simulator Failed" mockingly. 'You're not dead,' it seemed to say. 'Why are you so weak that you can't hurry up and get over yourself?' Cerv was just about to retaliate some form of witty comeback to the silent screen, but her body reacted faster than her mind did as all of a sudden her hands were on her helmet. They threw it off in one, clean grab as the woman's whole body collapsed on itself. The dry heaving that seemed to burn the back of her throat was so intense that shaky hands only barely got her restraints off before she slid pathetically to the floor. Her entire body was shaking violently, going into well-deserved shock as punishment for it's brain's stupidity. She was expecting trauma, but even this felt like overkill. Her chest hitched, catching another dry wretch in her throat as a sob tried to escape. Even closing her eyes couldn't stop tears from falling down her face and her body from recoiling into a fetal position.
Pathetic at best, but she couldn't help it. There was still so much pain locked away in the folds of her memories... Cervidae uncurled herself painfully slowly, cringing as she rolled off her side and onto her back. But, once again, her body was faster to react that her mind was and Cerv found herself scrambling off the floor like it was about to give up on her. Her breath, like so many other things, hitched in her throat as she knelt next to her seat, clinging to it like it was her life line. "No!" No! Not on my back! Not again! Two years on my back! Not again! The human's chest hitched once again as her empty stomach tried to throw up it's contents, only to pull a bit a bile and spit that quickly covered the seat Cerv had been in minutes ago. She needed to get out of that simulator to recover... If only her body understood that.
The young woman continued to hold on to the chair as she eased herself up to standing. Her legs seemed to be strong enough to support her weight, but actual motor functions were going to take some time. One hand bravely ventured to move to her chest, gripping it to hold onto her heart to remind her that she was, in fact, alive. She merely failed a simulator by attempting to send herself into cardiac arrest, no big deal. A deep breath finally managed to fill her lungs as her mind forced the rest of her body to calm down. There was absolutely no need for so much stress over something that officially could not be changed. Her nightmares would absolutely kill her when she finally attempted to sleep that night, but it would be worth it. She had accepted the consequences of her "suicide" while still inside of the simulator.
Cervidae rolled her shoulders slowly, breathing patiently as tears continued to spill down her face. As long as her body allowed her to function as she grieved, there wouldn't be much she could complain about. The hand unclenched itself from her chest as it moved up to her face, rubbing away the self-pity with the back of her hand dragged over her eyes. Crying right then in there seemed a little too pointless, especially since she still needed to report to whomever was still in the room by the time she managed to collect her wits. There was time to cry when she reached the privacy of her own room, locked the door, and allowed her mind to rip her to shreds as punishment for putting it through such a painful experience. Her nose sniffed back the pain, adding to the sting in her throat as she finally sunk into an emotionless state. Although it was a bit of a reflex to serious trauma, Cervidae figured a training officer would have preferred apathy over hysteria. Her legs slowly carried her out of the room, making sure she grabbed her helmet from off the ground before she got out of the room.
Any nurse would have probably rushed to make sure that the woman was okay after such a display of stress. Any sane, rational, uncorrupted human being would have, actually. But, rather than find any of those, Cervidae merely faced a room with no Warrant Officer Koate and where a trainee was walking out of the room and a chief petty officer turned his attention to the emerging woman. A chief petty officer whose face looked completely unamused with her. The woman silently took a clamming deep breath as she slowly left the simulator room and made her way to stand in front of the officer. As Cervidae tucked her helmet under her arm and pressed it against her hip while her free hand set her curls loose with the pull of her hair tie, the man gave her one minute before jumping in to correct the woman's near-reckless behavior in space. "Should I even begin to tell you how many Friendlies you so happened to take down?" Adding to the authoritarian tone in his voice, the sarcasm was bitter. Yet, Cerv's face remained apathetic as she maintained eye contact. "None, sir, my wingman remained flying by the time I was taken out." Her voice sounded absolutely foreign to her after finally managing to escape her throat with ease, but she didn't give herself any time to dwell on that. Very much to the woman's surprise, the officer looked as if he didn't understand what she was going on about. It appeared as if he wasn't going to give up his "disappointed" act until he got her to explain herself better... "Sir, even at the very start of the scenario, the only person on my team was my wingman. I knew exactly whose team he served on and to whom he swore his loyalty. As for the rest of those flying around in the vast nebula? For all I knew, Sir, without my sensors, was that they fought to kill me. And vice versa, Sir, since how were they supposed to know which side I was allied to? I established very early on that I only could rely on one ship out there, and that was my wingman, Sir. I am very well aware that, yes, the possibility that many of the Interceptors that were taken down by my partner and I were probably fellow Empire members... But, Sir, not one of them are to be considered 'Friendly'. They certainly didn't attempt to give me the benefit of the doubt."
The officer's eyes looked as if he held his breath, pensively thinking over what she said as he broke eye contact to search the woman's face. It was still red from the amount of trauma-induced panic attack she had had, slowly starting to puff up under the eyes and on the cheeks. In the light, it looked pretty awful. To Cervidae, however, she saw more than sympathy. There was a hint of acceptance to her answer which had the corners of her cheeks threatening to smile. But, the officer wasn't about to allow her to be dismissed without satisfying his own curiosity. "Answer me this, then. You physically rammed yourself into the other Interceptor... Why?" Cervidae responded with an actual smile on her face, tears pooling in her eyes again.
"You see, Sir, I had to make sure that the Interceptor didn't have a chance to take out my wingman."
"You're aware that there's a "Pilot Eject" button, correct?"
"Absolutely, Sir. But, please understand, I had deemed it unavoidable to remain within my ship. The most important reason being that my Interceptor had to take down the challenger without fail; only way to maintain that without sensors is to follow through. Besides," her head hitched back once to indicate back to her simulator, "dying in an explosion is much faster than dying in space. I picked the better of two suicides."
The officer was now, in fact, a little impressed with her thoughts. "Very well, you're dismissed. Go get some rest; you look like you need it."
"If it's alright with you, Sir, I'm going to stay here and wait to see how my wingman avenges my death."
Her smile held, shining through her salute. It even stayed as she moved and took a seat in front of the remaining simulators, patiently waiting for her partner to join her.
- OOC:
WC: 7572
AAR: Cervidae Sandor seems to take well to flying Interceptors, especially with the wingman she had. Eventually though, all things must come to and end. And, with a final hurrah as a suicide, the young woman learns that even simulated ship crashes lead to a vicious attack of PTSD. Now, she currently awaits the "death" of her wingman so she can praise him for his reckless shooting.
Final Friendly/Enemy ratio: 7/9.
OOC: in other news: I win, Dunny.
TRN/CRW Cervidae/??/S:137 "Raptor"/W:46 "Shield"/PLF Cappadocious/TF:TH/3Flt/SC/VEN/VE
"The world is not a wish-granting factory; you must earn what you deserve."
|
Ellesmere
ComNet Member
[VE-NAVY] Petty Officer 1st Class
Post Number: 306
Total Posts: 311
Joined: Mar 2011
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
January 6, 2013
12:46:17 AM
|
|
I shall look this over in the morning as it is quite the post !
It if any other Wcafemy staff or on could you grade this please?
On a side note you really only needed to post this in the Raptor topic BO/PO1 Ellesmere/ISD II Halcyon Warrior /TF:B/2FL/FC/VEN/VE [MC2][MC1] TO/PO1 Ellesmere/TF:B/Raptor/VENA/VEN/VE [MC2][MC1] |
Maroy
ComNet Member
[VE-NAVY] Warrant Officer 2nd Class
Post Number: 586
Total Posts: 718
Joined: Feb 2010
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
January 6, 2013
1:43:21 AM
|
|
Looks like a 'pass' to me, but I'll leave the final decision to you, Ellesmere. The only issue I had with it is the fact that in the VE's interpretation of the tech, the 'lasers' are generated by the reactor rather than being conventional ammunition. We also try to avoid using colors as a general rule, but that's more of a nitpick here than anything else. Aside from that, the post is pretty amazing. FM/WO2/ Maroy/Cobalt 5/S:50 "Chlovi" W:101 "Blade"/ISD Adjudicator/TF:A|2FL|SC|VEN|VE (=*A*=) [GCM] [CBV] [IG]x2 [MC2] [MC1] [VC:B] [LoM] [CC:P] |
Cervidae
ComNet n00b
[VE-NAVY] Crewman
Post Number: 8
Total Posts: 81
Joined: Nov 2012
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
January 6, 2013
9:15:44 AM
|
|
I personally could nit-pick this post till the day I die since there's a hella lot missing that I thought I added/removed. But... Yeah... most of it is pretty good . . . I guess. xD I would go back and edit it around, but I'm currently a victim of the flu. Maybe some day I'll run back and try to make sense of my page rape. I'm really glad you two seem to like it; that means a lot to me. TRN/CRW Cervidae/??/S:137 "Raptor"/W:46 "Shield"/PLF Cappadocious/TF:TH/3Flt/SC/VEN/VE
"The world is not a wish-granting factory; you must earn what you deserve."
|
Ellesmere
ComNet Member
[VE-NAVY] Petty Officer 1st Class
Post Number: 307
Total Posts: 311
Joined: Mar 2011
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
January 6, 2013
8:51:33 PM
|
|
I would agree with Maroy on the points she brought up and so, congratulations upon completion of Phase 2!
Now if you would move onto the last part of your training which is Phase 3 (reporting essentially) please send that to Echelon along with Hades, I'm sure you shall be placed shortly! BO/PO1 Ellesmere/ISD II Halcyon Warrior /TF:B/2FL/FC/VEN/VE [MC2][MC1] TO/PO1 Ellesmere/TF:B/Raptor/VENA/VEN/VE [MC2][MC1] |
Cervidae
ComNet n00b
[VE-NAVY] Crewman
Post Number: 9
Total Posts: 81
Joined: Nov 2012
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
January 7, 2013
10:27:01 PM
|
|
TRN/CRW Cervidae/??/S:137 "Raptor"/W:46 "Shield"/PLF Cappadocious/TF:TH/3Flt/SC/VEN/VE
"The world is not a wish-granting factory; you must earn what you deserve."
|
Cervidae
ComNet n00b
[VE-NAVY] Crewman
Post Number: 10
Total Posts: 81
Joined: Nov 2012
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
January 8, 2013
7:53:03 AM
|
|
Cervidae’s Report: January/7th/2013Activity: In the past week, I've managed to accomplish a 7,500+ word introduction post for "Raptor: Disaster" and I posted it just yesterday, making that my first IC post since joining the Vast Empire. I did make a few mistakes, as was pointed out by WO2 Maroy and reaffirmed by PO1 Ellesmere, my TO, but overall they "passed" it. I've also taken the liberty of searching the Naval forum a bit, reading over posts and familiarizing myself with which members have the deeper histories/ longer ties to the VE. I've also looked over profiles of other members on the Navy, trying to get a feel for who I'll be serving with. I've also discovered that one should not make bets with Dunny. They will be the death of me, but I will probably never learn. Upcoming plans:In the coming week, I plan on updating my wiki page a bit -- perhaps adding a little more background information and personal information to help describe my character in better detail. Along with that, I will updating my "Service History" and "Story Participation Log" to log the fact that I have at least made a splash in moving my character along. With the upcoming week being very smooth, I plan to be present almost every day to check on my status on where I'll be placed. I also plan on reading up on the Naval Ancillary Skills a little more in depth than the cursory glance i gave it a little whiles back. Questions/Suggestions:None Crewman Cervidae Trainee TRN/CRW Cervidae/??/S:137 "Raptor"/W:46 "Shield"/PLF Cappadocious/TF:TH/3Flt/SC/VEN/VE
TRN/CRW Cervidae/??/S:137 "Raptor"/W:46 "Shield"/PLF Cappadocious/TF:TH/3Flt/SC/VEN/VE
"The world is not a wish-granting factory; you must earn what you deserve."
|
Hades
ComNet Member
[VE-NAVY] Master Chief Petty Officer
Post Number: 579
Total Posts: 1245
Joined: Nov 2011
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
January 8, 2013
9:41:41 AM
|
|
Congratulations, Crewman Cervidae - you have fulfilled the requirements to pass basic training. Given your aptitude in writing and your eye for detail, I'm giving you a pass and awarding you a double promotion to Senior Crewman. You are now a fully fledged member of the Vast Imperial Navy and will be assigned a squadron shortly. Congratulations, Senior Crewman |
Hades
ComNet Member
[VE-NAVY] Master Chief Petty Officer
Post Number: 580
Total Posts: 1245
Joined: Nov 2011
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
January 8, 2013
10:18:43 PM
|
|
You've been assigned to Chlovi Cat Squadron and will be flying under the enigmatic squadron commander Dunny. Good luck, and I'm sure I'll be seeing you around! |
Cervidae
ComNet n00b
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman
Post Number: 11
Total Posts: 81
Joined: Nov 2012
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
January 8, 2013
11:12:41 PM
|
|
Thank you, Sir.
It's an honor for the promotion; I'll go by it proudly and bring all that I can to the Chlovi. TRN/CRW Cervidae/??/S:137 "Raptor"/W:46 "Shield"/PLF Cappadocious/TF:TH/3Flt/SC/VEN/VE
"The world is not a wish-granting factory; you must earn what you deserve."
|
Echelon
ComNet Marshal
[VE-NAVY] Warrant Officer 2nd Class
Post Number: 541
Total Posts: 546
Joined: May 2011
Status: Offline
|
RE: HI
|
|
January 9, 2013
4:28:17 PM
|
|
For your excellent post at the training phase, you've been awarded the Star of the Academy medal! You may now add SoA to your ID Line. Congrats!
SCAP/WO2 Rhycus 'Echelon' Bandoran/CR90 Stonewall/TF:A/2Flt/VEN/VE
CNT/WO2 Rhycus 'Echelon' Bandoran/PLF Cappadocious/VENA/VEN/VE
[SoA] [NAR] [CAR] [MC2] [BWC] [HNS] [MC1] [SWC] [1NS] [LoM] [VC:B] [CC:F]
[=*ENG*=] {VehM} {SfrM} {HypM} {Astr} {LogS} {Shut} {Gunn} (*SCFE*)
Naval High Command
MVP of Out of the Invisible
|
|
|
