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BUMP!

I would probably be down for this.

I wouldn't mind trying the Detective x Rookie Cop. I could probably do FxF or just MxF, whatever you're interested in.

Thor nodded slightly and took another drink from his bottle. A small boat silently slipped through the canal under them. "Oh, me? I have no quest as honorable as yours, I can tell you that. I am an archer for hire. Not just any archer, mind you. Where I come from I'm called a Sa'matis, which means I am a supreme marksman.  I'm also a good infiltrator as well. I've made my share of coin 'liberating' certain items from the pompous overfed leaders of Skyrim. Say, I'm sure I would be of help to you on your quest." He turned to her, leaning against the railing with his hip and his elbow. He was shorter than her by a considerable amount, but he was actually tall for his race. He smiled a dangerously mischievous smile, "I wouldn't need paid. The quest you're on will surely take you through the dangerous ruins of the Dwemer, places that contain a myriad of treasures. You let me take any treasure I find, and I will stop you from walking into any traps. It's a winning situation for both of us." A smile crept to his lips again before he finished off his bottle of mead. It seemed that talk of adventure and Dwemer ruins had lit a spark in him. That, or it was the mead.

The office was rather bare, and his desk only really had what one would expect. A typewriter and a neat stack of blank sheets sat on the right side of the desk, and a notebook in a pen sat in the middle of the deck in front of a large comfortable-looking leather chair. Not a loose file left out, not a sheet of paper lying around; everything was perfectly neat and even.  Light from the window behind his desk came in at an angle, leaving most of the office in dimness.

“Tom!” the secretary, Sandy, screamed as the outside door opened. One could hear her rush across the wood floor.

“I’m fine, Sandy. My appointment is she waiting for me?” His voice was rough and deep and it sounded like he had a serious sore throat.

“Oh, um, yes. She’s been waiting for you.”

The door to his office opened and Thomas Archer stepped through.  He was a tall young man, probably in his mid twenties, with short tussled blond hair and sharp green eyes.  The suit he wore fit him perfectly, and his fedora sat casually on his head. However, whenever he moved the handkerchief from his face you could see that his lip was slip and his nose was bleeding.

Tom walked right past her and eased himself down into his chair, and it was clear that his lip and nose weren’t the only injured things on his body, despite that fact that his clothes still looked impeccable, and he’d managed not to get one spot of blood on his suit. Leaning back Tom dabbed his nose a few times then folded his handkerchief nearly into a square and tossed it into a garbage bin beside his desk. Now that that was out of the way he sniffed deeply and opened the notebook that was in front of him and picked up the pen.

After a moment he looked up, and his intense gaze fell upon the woman before him.  His eyes drifted up and down her form for a moment before his lips curled in a slight smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m sorry if my appearance frightens you. I don’t get the same respect officers do. Sometimes I push the wrong buttons.” Now that he was sitting right in front of her and facing her direction, it was obvious what caused his voice to have such a harsh, raspy guilty. Despite his bright eyes and his strong features, there was a deep angry scar that ran across his throat. It was partially hidden by his collar and tie, but when he leaned forward she would be able to see it. He would notice instantly if she looked at it.

Some new shirts I got. I hope everyone understands them.

New people are the best! Welcome to the site. I'm new myself, but it doesn't take long to make yourself at home.

Welcome! We've kind of met on the chat box, and I know you've been directed on what to do from here, so enjoy your stay!

Why, thank you all!

Thoron smiled slightly, "A pleasure to meet you."  He finished his drink as she spoke about the room and her quest, and was about to speak until he noticed her eyes following the young woman who was giving all the men attention it seemed. Now, he understood that Skyrim was a harsh place and there wasn't a lot of time for courting, but he thought that might have been a bit much. His attention turned back to the young woman beside him, however, when she voiced her disappointment at the display, and indeed how most of the people were behaving in the inn. Sometimes the Bosmer enjoyed seeing people in misery, but this wasn't one of those times.

Slowly Thor stood and gathered his belongings. Without a word he moved across the crowded Inn to the bar. The Argonian leaned in slightly to hear him speak then produced two bottles of mead. Thor placed the coins on the table carried the bottles between his fingers back over to Ylla. "This crowd puts me on edge, what do you say we get some fresh air?" he raised the hand that held the bottles in a gesture and made his way out of the inn.

If she followed she would find him leaning against the railing just outside, facing the entrance of the inn. When Thor saw her he would open one of the bottles of mead and set it on the railing beside him, as if saying, Well now you have to join me. The elf opened his bottle and took a drink.

The sky above them as clear and littered with stars and the moons were bright and full. The air had a nip, but was comfortable compared to the parts of Skyrim further to the north. The city seemed quiet, but Thoron knew better than to assume that all things were well. He doubted that anyone would bother them tonight, however.

"So what is your quest exactly, Yllaonna?" He said after a moment of taking in the city. In the dim light his eyes moved back to her.

Fact: Panda needs noms
Fact: Panda always needs noms.

He was very pleased indeed by her following remark, though he was expecting a table to be thrown and the demand for unarmed combat. She only served to justify his thoughts on the intelligence of Nord women, however.

Pleased, he smiled and finished his mead, ordering another as she did. He paid the maid again and continued drinking. "I am harder to break than I appear. And you are more collected and reasonable than some of your kinfolk." Now that the waters have been tested, it was only fitting to return her compliment. He'd always excelled at understanding people of other races. It may have been learned or innate, but it was a valuable skill in his line of work.

He was silent for a moment, regarding the young Nord that sat beside him, mostly out of his peripheries, even though it was hard to see exactly where he was looking due to the depth of color of his eyes and the dim lighting. He assumed that she had followed in her father's warrior footsteps. Perhaps because the two got along, or because her mother had died when she was young. He figured that she looked a great deal like her mother, too, judging by the fact that she made no attempt to hide her natural beauty, and likely wore it proudly. This led him to believe that the woman before him was passionately vengeful in the pursuit of bringing honor to her parents who were likely both dead.

Slowly, he reached his slender hand out to her with his fingers curled slightly, showing her that he wished to grasp gauntlets in greeting, "My name is Thoron. And for what reason do you bring your hammer to bear, if not for greed?" His tone was not condescending, and part of him was truly curious, but another part just wanted to know how much of his deduction was accurate.

If there was anything he specifically enjoyed about Skyrim it was the women.  Nord women were hard and strong, and just as temperamental as the men, but oftentimes more intelligent. The Bosmer smiled slightly, showing a row set of sharp teeth. Few people actually knew about the Bosmer Green Pact, as most of the wood elves that moved to other provinces abandoned it. Did this Bosmer still consume his enemies?

"I now understand why all these seats are empty, yet there are beings standing or leaning against the wall." The elf paused to take another drink. "Funny that you call me small minded. Do you really think that the great Nord leaders that fight against the Dwemer invasion are only concerned about protecting Skyrim? I assure you that while they fight a common enemy they have knives aimed at each other's backs." He was testing the waters now. Maybe he wanted to see some of that famous Nord passion. In truth he found the Nords to be the most true and loyal of all the races. Xenophobic and racist, but they had their reasons, just as his own people had their own reasons. The truth of the matter, however, was that power corrupts. The Jarls of Skyrim play political games while their soldiers die in the name of their motherland.

He found her roughness attractive, really. Weak, subservient women made him ill. While he respected the woman before him, he was pushing her buttons for his own amusement.

"War and greed seem to be the only true loves for the beings of this realm." The voice came from her flank and a short cloaked figure sat in one of the chairs beside her. The being brushed back his hood to reveal himself, and his blood red eyes turned to regard the Nord female. He was a Bosmer of light skin and white hair that was closely cut on the sides but kept at finger's length in the middle. A crimson facial tattoo ran across his eyes and down his angular cheeks until coming to a point near his jaw.  The few people that knew the young wood-elf referred to him as the Sabercat for his sleek, predatory appearance.

Seeing a new patron the barmaid came to him and he ordered mead, as if there was really anything else to drink here in Skyrim. While he waited for his drink he shrugged back his cloak so that it hung on the chair he sat in, and pulled the quiver off his back and sat it in front of him on the table. His bow, which remained on his shoulder, was a masterfully crafted Ebony item. Such a weapon was something one would expect to see on the shoulder of a Bosmer, though the dagger on his hip appeared to be made of simple iron.

When the barmaid came with his flagon he paid her from one of the many pouches that arrayed his dark boiled leather armor. The young Argonian took his coin and went off to seek other patrons. The elf sat back in his chair and took a healthy drink of his mead. It was said that the Black-Brier Mead was the best in Skyrim, but he had yet to drink enough of it to really tell, and the Bosmer wondered how much of the popularity was forced. He'd only been in Riften for a few nights, but he was all too familiar with the signs of corruption. Regardless, Riften was his kind of city.

War and greed were the very reasons he came to Skyrim. He was the kind of being that made profit from war. Stealing, killing, the political intrigue that went on between the people of Skyrim even though they had a common enemy to fight against were all reasons a person like him could make coin. The beings of Nirn weren't all that much unlike the Daedric Lords they shunned so intensely.

Okay. There's cargo container (about the size and mass of a modern cargo container) on its way to the sun. The container is traveling at about 10,000 meters per second or about 170,000 miles per hour. You want to stop this container from impacting the sun but your ship is too small to simply stop an object of that mass traveling at that speed with it's tractor beam. It simply can't generate enough energy without going critical. Furthermore, your ship can't move fast enough to intercept the ship without again making your rector go critical (the ship is kind of crappy). It has limited sub-light engines (capable of about 1,000 meters per second) and a non-variable faster than light engine. How are you going to slow down the container to a speed that you can tractor the container into your cargo bay. The idea is to preserve anything that is inside.

Rules-ish

1. You can't use the ship's shields to stop the container as it would result in overloading the ship.

2. You have a few kinetic charges, missiles, and generic 'beam' weapons.


Lemme hear how you would use non-existing technology and theoretical physics to solve this problem. There's no wrong answer outside of breaking the rules.

Hello, all. I'm a fairly experienced writer and role-player and I come to this site for some mature and adult themed RPs. I do enjoy a great deal of plot with my stories.


Modern
Fantasy
Modern-Fantasy
Fantasy-Science Fiction
Sci-Fi
Historical (Medieval, Victorian, Wild-West, etc.)
Steam-Punk
Cyber-Punk
Post-Apocalyptic
Anthro
Pin-up (Love this!)

Elder Scrolls

On the following premises:

VIP - Bodyguard
Commander - Subordinate
Soldiers
Strangers
Teacher - Student
Celib. - Fan
Opposite social cliques (Goth - Jock, Geek - Alternative Style (Punk, Emo, Industrial, Rockabilly)) This is something that is hard to keep interesting so if we are going to do this I'd like to work out a really interesting plot.


Well that's that. Any questions or if you're interested in an RP feel free to PM me.

Here's some different looks of Panda. Seeing that my facial expression doesn't change much you probably won't notice that I'm making a face in the last picture. BUT I AM!

Some of you might know me. Others might know me well. Most people call me Panda, and I've been RPing for a good while. I enjoy Sci-fi and fantasy role-play but I've been know to dip my fingers into just about anything. I'm 22 and I've got a stressful job so I come to forums like this to unwind and chill. The less drama the better in my book, and I tend to be calm and collected about most things. Here are a few things you need to know about me.

1. I love pandas. Giant ones, Red ones, I just love pandas. I like to think that I loved pandas before it was cool but I try not to make myself look like more of a hipster than I already do.

2. I love vodka. I'm drinking some right now in fact.

3. I love video games. I've been playing Star Wars the Old Republic recently.

4. If we are having a conversation and I suddenly stop responding it is most likely because I went and got some noms. I'm a slave to my stomach. When you have a super fast metabolism that's really the only way to be.

5. Never under any circumstances should you touch and or poke my belly button. I make dividing by zero look like adding vinegar to baking soda.

That's about it. Hope to meet and become acquainted with all of you.