Elite roleplay: Citi Gateway

CITI GATEWAY

The Orbis station is a center of activity. Within the station a myriad of places can be found.
  • The Warrens: Where the poor plebs of the station live. It's is a breeding ground for the most unscrupulous. Keep an eye on your wallet when traversing the corridors of these areas.
  • Habitation Complex: For those workers and pilots that can afford it, this area provides closer to 1G gravity for more earth like living.
  • Commerce Divison: and Administration Where the larger corporations make their home. Station administration can be found here.
  • Industrial Complex: Where industry manufactures their various goods.
  • Entertainment: District Bars, theaters and night clubs, tattoo parlors and other establishments can be found vying for a commanders credits in exchange for a bit of fun.
  • Station Security: A high tech brig used to house law breakers until they can be tried, and or deported off station.
  • Medical Ward: Where commanders can get patched up, enhanced, or fix existing cybernetics.

General Roleplay Etiquette:

1. Control only the actions of your own character(s). (AKA: God Mode)
This doesn't matter how small the action is, even if it is as simple as scratching their nose or a direct reaction to something else that just happened. This applies to everything from casual conversation to full blown fight scenes. If you'd like someone to do something specific, PM that person, however keep in mind they are completely within their rights to say no. Especially if said action is inappropriate to their character and/or circumstance.

2. Don't brute force your way into another persons RP.
Approaching with a conversation starter is fine, or indeed some other small action. However charging in, guns blazing and disrupting the flow of another person/pair/groups conversation/arc is about as rude as doing so in real life. If something is going on that you'd like to participate in, be subtle about it. Put out a gentle hook for someone to take, but again, be aware that said hook may not be taken. If you fear it was simply unnoticed, PM the person or people it concerns. Or even leave a message in the OOC forums.

3. Good grammar and spelling is preferred.
We're not asking you to be perfect, but please at least demonstrate willingness. no1 iz gna tak u srsly usng txt spk. There's a wide variety of people here, many who speak English as a second, or even third language. There are even some with varying degrees of dyslexia and/or likely other issues that affect spelling/grammar. We accept them all here. However, people who aren't accepted, are those unwilling to accept polite correction. Remember that even a small thing like the placement of a comma, or the wrong use of there/their/they're can completely change the definition of an entire sentence.

4. Accept constructive criticism gracefully and politely.
If someone spots an issue with your writings, they may wish to help you improve that writing. They may do this through PM or even publicly air their thoughts on the OOC forum. If they have taken the time to be polite and explain what is wrong with your writing, the best way to behave is to respond in kind, using the same manner they have approached you with. It means they have taken an active interest in what you have written and wish to see more. Basically, you have a fan!

5. Don't take the actions or opinions of things done IN RP, to be directly relevant to the writers thoughts or opinions.
Basically, if some ones character calls your character a jackass, it doesn't mean the writer thinks you are a jackass. It's a ROLE they are PLAYING. Watch a movie. The argument between the characters isn't an argument between the actors involved. The same applies here.

6. It's not a popularity contest.
Your RP might be bustling with participants. You have 3 people off station in a fire fight, while another 2 are infiltrating the darkest areas of the station, meanwhile a group of 4 others are tracking your movements in an effort to stop you. Good for you, I'm sure it will be a thrilling read! But you know what? Sometimes the absolute BEST work, comes from two RP characters having a simple heart to heart. Both are valid, both are great, but NEITHER is categorically better than the other. Period.


Inara RP Etiquette:

1. Respect the setting and rules of the universe.
Inara is an Elite: Dangerous 3rd Party Tool. The RP Forums are set in the Elite: Dangerous universe. Elite: Dangerous has rules, as any fictional universe does from Lord of the Rings to Star Wars, or Game of Thrones to Star Trek. If you intend to RP within the Elite: Dangerous universe you are bound by the history and rules of that universe. Simply put, this RP forum is bound by the same rules as the game, so if it can't be done in the game, it is not permitted here. This applies to things from a 50Ly Jump Range on a normal, unmodified Sidewinder, to the destruction of entire stations.

2. Respect the characters created by others.
We have a wide variety of characters already here. It's expected that some will be similar, just as it's expected that two characters will be vastly different. Opinions of each persons character will naturally be varied, but all are valid provided they follow the rules of the universe. You are allowed to interact with, or avoid interaction with, any character in the RP forums. But you have no right to belittle others for their creation. You are not an authority figure on writing, nor are you directly affected by another persons imagination. You might not like it, but you MUST respect it.

3. Be caught up on current events before joining in.
You need basic things like character descriptions in order to interact with them. You also need to know what's going on in the surrounding areas. This is simply because the people you are hoping to RP with, might be gearing up to something that you might not want to be part of. Or simply that the most recent post, out of context, could leave a different impression on the goings on than if you gather that context. We don't expect you to read every single post from the beginning of the forums, just enough to get that basic understanding.

4. Either subscribe to, or frequently check, the Roleplay: Q&A and OOC forum.
People may be discussing something relevant to you there, or even discussing you directly. Perhaps someone asked what the general consensus on the existence or non-existence of a certain object. Or we're just chatting about random gibberish. Either way, be aware of it and use it. If you're unsure about something, such as how guns would look and or behave, or even the music selection, use the OOC forum to ask. We don't have all of the answers, but the collective knowledge and logic usually allows us to overcome an issue and come to a decision on what should be allowed. Frontier Developments, and even David Braben himself, don't have the answers to every possible question that can be asked.

5. Large Scale events exploding out of nowhere are a complete no go.
We get it. Everyone wants their character to be noticed and for people to be tripping over themselves to interact with them. In some audiences, an introduction involving you blasting in for landing in a fiery wreckage of a ship, before cart wheeling out and sword fighting 35 Ninjas before whisking off with the local celebrity for a glorious night of passion, is in fact, cool. This is not one of those audiences. It is generally considered better to build your character up slowly over time. Eventually, you might even have a legitimate excuse to fight those Ninjas. Maybe even with other RP participants by your side.

6. Perfect characters are boring.
The point of a character arc, is that it is in fact, an arc shape. One who is morally unquestionable, fully kitted out and an infinite fountain of knowledge, cannot go through an arc. Give your character flaws. Be it a tendency towards befriending the wrong people, or a bad knee that frequently gives out at inopportune moments. It gives readers something to latch onto and empathise with. You can give your character exceptional capabilities at something, but it requires balance. She's a damn good pilot with no equal, but can't drive an SRV for peanuts. It can lead to some very interesting moments between characters, be it heartfelt or comedic.


Other Notes:
It should be noted that there can be exceptions to these points. For example, good grammar when a character is speaking is actually rare. Few people in real life actually speak with perfect eloquence after all. Or previously arranged actions during a fight scene, such as someone stumbling back after a punch. What's key to remember is context.

All in all, remember this is purely for fun. We have some seriously talented writers here, and others whose writing history starts and ends at high school. But many are willing to help out in whatever way they can. All it takes is that you ask nicely.

Also keep in mind that many people who RP here, also have logbook stories related to the character, or characters, they portray. If it looks like there's an "in joke" going on that you're unsure of, it's probably in those.

In fact, some users have even gone to the trouble of creating "alts" to RP with. If you read back far enough, it's usually pretty clear who has and hasn't, and which ones are the "alts". It's therefore not unheard of to see the apparent seizing of control of other characters. If you do spot one, point it out in the OOC section. If intervention is needed, it will be sorted quickly and (hopefully) politely.

Most, if not all RP participants here have Logbook stories pertaining to their character(s). These are for the reading pleasure of anyone who wishes to do so. While it can be useful to read them in order to gain a bit of backstory on a character you wish to interact with, it should not be assumed that your character shares that knowledge. Within the E:D Universe, these Logbooks either don't exist, or are private diaries kept by the characters. Either way, without explicit statements to say otherwise from the writer, your interactions should reflect that your character is in the dark about any information you, the writer/reader, have gained from reading the stories.
Cartlidge and Ten hopped off the train after reaching the closest checkpoint to the Fox and Hound. The pair found a nearby bench while Cartlidge prepared a new bug. Once they sat down, the bounty hunter rolled the bug into the crowd.

Ten pulled out her own datapad and started giving directions to Cartlidge while he piloted the tiny bead towards the restaurant.
She smiled then bit her lip, realizing how corny she must have sounded.

As the Doctor claimed, Claire was breathless. Sure enough the sight of the black hole at Maia and the ruins left her so that it was too much for her to stay long. I'm so little compared to them. She huffed and looked back at him.

"They don't completely astonish me you understand... I guess what really stroke me were the people?" She said, watching those around her.

"I'm fresh out there in the Galaxy so... Not much else I can tell you." Shifting her focus to him, "You? What are up to in your field? I'm curious. You must meet all kinds of people." She sipped her wine, finally adjusting to its taste.
The little bug rolled along bravely, scrambling to keep out of the attention of passers-by. After hopping down a full flight of stairs, the marble stopped just outside the entrance of the restaurant.
The good doctor, shifted his weight. New, in the galaxy.....

"You have to understand, I cannot talk about my patients. Confidentiality and all that." He smiled again. But his eyes still remained cold, and distant. He reached across the table and took Clair's, giving one a small peck of a kiss.

"But you have piqued my curiosity. What was it about these people that, in your words, stoked you? Surely, they must be very interesting individuals."

He sat back again, holding the same smile.


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One by one, the people in line ahead of Isaiah made their orders and stepped away from the counter. He continued to peruse the menu, unsure of what to order - or what any of the names even meant. So many choices for something loaded with cream and caffeine. 

He felt slightly self-conscious about his choice to come to a coffee shop to meet Phisto. He wasn't exactly dressed like the rest of the people in the establishment; most were "business professionals" of sorts, wearing custom tailored suits of fine fabrics. Isaiah, on the other hand, looked more like a dock worker. He'd shaved his beard and cut his hair, but the slight shadow of stubble covered his face.

And that was nothing compared to how he must have looked otherwise.

Whatever had possessed him to come here, it wasn't because he enjoyed coffee. It was a habit... or rather it had been a habit. There was a coffee shop in Leeson City, back in Prism, that he once frequented with Cait during the early days of their courtship. He never bothered learning the kinds of coffee because it never interested him, but he'd let her order for him. She always came back to him with a sweet, fragrant concoction, and they'd sit and talk about their lives beyond the cockpits of their respective ships. 

His eyes drifted down the menu one last time and stopped on one item in particular. Irish coffee. Whiskey. I could go for that.

Isaiah stepped to the counter and smiled slightly at the barista, nodding his head. "Irish coffee, please?"

"What size?"

His brow lifted slightly. "Uh..." How miserable am I? "What sizes you got?"

"Mini, tall, grande, venti."

Please kill me.

Isaiah stared blankly at the barista, who rolled her eyes at him. "Small, medium, large, extra large."

"Medium."

The barista stepped away from the counter to fulfill the order, and Isaiah glanced around, looking back over his shoulder quickly, getting the lay of the land before turning his attention back to the barista.

"Anything else?"

"Cinnamon roll."

She bent down behind the counter and retrieved one of the rolls from the display case, wrapping it in wax paper and placing it on the counter between them. Isaiah swiped his credit chit over the reader, and the barista gave a nod to confirm the order.

"Have a good one," the barista deadpanned. "Next."

"You too," Isaiah replied, taking his coffee and the cinnamon roll and moving to a corner booth at the back of the shop.
In line, several people behind Isaiah, Phisto queued patiently.  Making note of Isaiah's booth, he pulled out his PDA, pulling up recent messages.  Still watching the line in his peripheral vision, he stepped forward as each person in front gave their order and left the counter.  Soon, only the counter remained in front of him. He did not notice this.  The barista huffed, rolling her eyes at yet another customer's face down in a screen.  The man behind Phisto grinned at the barista mouthing, "Riiight?"  After a couple moments, the barista interrupted Phisto.

"Excuse me," she said, "sir, would you like to order?

Startled, Phisto looked up from his PDA and nearly dropped it.  "Oh!  Sorry!  I've become that guy, haven't I?"  The man behind Phisto chuckled.  Phisto turned his head, and nodded at the man with a friendly smirk.  He turned back to the barista, "I'll take a large coffee, black, bit of cream and two portions of sugar.  I'll also take a piece of that chocolate cheese cake, please and thank you."

The barista nodded as she took Phisto's credit chip.  Placing his PDA back into his jacket, he turned to watch another barista fill his order.  Taking back his credit chip, he stepped to the side and motioned to the man behind him, "Your turn, buddy."  The man nodded respectfully in return.  Phisto picked up his coffee, lazily saluting the baristas, then dropping that hand to grab the cake as the barista offered it across the counter.  Turning on his heel, he headed over to Isaiah.

Walking up, he grinned wide and nodded at the seat across from Isaiah, "This seat taken, sugar?  Looks like you could use a friend."
Isaiah took a moment to size Phisto up, managing a slight grin. "Eh, I've had worse company. Don't see the harm in entertaining a little company." With a laugh, he rose to his feet and extended a hand. "Good to finally meet you in person, Phisto."

He paused, thinking to himself, then added: "Phisto. Nickname?"
Phisto set down his cake and coffee then reached out to take Isaiah's hand. Shaking warmly, he smiled back, "Likewise, friend. This is a real pleasure."

Letting go of Isaiah's hand, he pulled out his chair and moved to sit. Chuckling at Isaiah's inquiry, he raised his right eyebrow at him, "That's my given name, believe it or not. Just Phisto." Upon sitting, he took his coffee and took a slight sip, nimbly testing the beverage's temperature. His face registering the typical grimace of a scalding yet tasty beverage, he set the drink down and reached for his knife and fork.
He sat down across from Phisto, nodding his head. "Fair enough. Hell of a name then."

Taking a sip of his coffee, he made a slight face and peered down into the froth. "You know, I've never cared much for coffee. I thought by adding whiskey to it, it might make it a little more suitable to my tastes but now I think it's just... well... weird." He cleared his throat and smirked. "So what's your business out here anyway? This place like a second port of call for you?"
"Hell" of a name. Heh.  Funny guy when he wants to be.

Placing his knife slightly back from the pointy end of his cheesecake, Phisto thoughtfully cut a morsel. Spearing it with his fork, he took it up to his mouth.  Nodding appreciatively at the treat, he took another sip of coffee to chase it down. Starting on another piece, he considered Isaiah's question for a moment.

"No business here, to be honest. Heard this was in interesting place so when I was looking to take a bit of vacation just wandered out this way."  Taking another morsel he continued, "Best part's been the people. Got some real peculiar folks round here.  What about you?  You've been here before, right?"

Phisto took another sip of coffee. Looking around the establishment then back to Isaiah, he took another bite of cake.


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"Yeah, I've been here once before."

He pursed his lips, considering whether or not to divulge the actual details of his... incident aboard the station. Glaboski's actions had left him shaken - which, when coupled with his real and "off the books" work, made him withdraw from those he cared for. Part of him wanted to pin the blame for the downward spiral on the doctor. It would have been easier to wash his hands of the failed relationship with Cait. 

But if I'm being honest, that was just one contributing factor. I kept her in the dark. I kept those secrets from her. I did it. Me. No one else.

"It wasn't a pleasant experience, but it turned out better than it might have otherwise," Isaiah continued, taking a bite of his cinnamon roll. He chewed quietly, swallowed, then sighed. "I'm tying up some loose ends. Actually came to see you because I have a small favor to ask."
Tying up loose ends?

Phisto listened to Isaiah’s words but focused on everything around them. Glancing at Isaiah’s food and drink, Phisto took note of the beverage Isaiah didn’t even like coupled with its alcoholic additive. Isaiah’s slow chew of the roll and his sigh after further confirmed Phisto’s suspicions. His expression dropped slightly at these thoughts, his normally cheery demeanor cooling. He tried not to tip off his friend, but this conversation was too familiar. Phisto tensed as his heart cracked.

Whatever he's tying up for, I’m not sure he plans to come back.

Phisto calmly set down his fork and knife, taking the coffee in his hand. He cupped it with both hands, taking comfort in the heat. “Sure, Isaiah,” Phisto said, “what do you need?”
His eyes were cast downward for a moment, still peering at the little spirals of deep brown-black spiraling about the off-white froth of his coffee. 

"You ever hear about what happened to Peter Jameson?" he asked, making eye contact with Phisto, his brow furrowed intensely. "Man just up and disappeared on his way back to Lave. Supposedly two Fer-de-Lances ambushed him in his Cobra and he took them out... but he was never seen again either. Just... left. Left everything." His eyes darted around the shop, his thoughts bubbling just beneath the surface.

"I think he got sick of it, you know? Being Elite. Keeping secrets. Watching as everything and everyone he loved either burned up or faded away. Hunted by people for all sorts of reasons. Maybe he left because he realized there was nothing worth staying for. Maybe the thing he helped create became something he couldn't bear to be a part of anymore."

He swallowed hard, then reached inside his jacket, digging around inside the pocket. A piece of paper, folder over several times, resolved itself between his fingers. He slowly slid it across to Phisto.

"Don't look at it until you're someplace secure. Commit these instructions to memory, then burn this," Isaiah said, his voice low. "It's imperative that you follow them to the letter."
Phisto nodded as Isaiah spoke, his attention moving from the nonverbal to the verbal.  He'd heard of Jameson in passing and knew it was quite the legend, but didn't know the story half as well as his friend.  He mused on how straight forward it seemed, and as Isaiah speculated on the reasons for the famous pilot's sudden disappearance, his heartbeat raced and his head began to buzz.

Nothing worth staying for.

Thing he helped create.

Anger seethed in Phisto's chest.  He let go of the coffee with his left hand, crossed his left leg over his right knee and calmly brought the coffee up to his lips for a sip.  Shifting his weight in the chair, he struggled to keep a well meaning, empathetic smile on his face.

Couldn't bear to be a part of anymore.

Memories flashed in his mind.  Rapid images of home, family, and exile into space barreled through his consciousness.  The Pilot's Federation seemed like salvation from the loss and indiscretions of his early days.  Sadly, it didn't take long to discover the same kind of people he fought in his youth had spread long and far throughout the galaxy, bringing with them their own special brand of barbarity multiplied billion-fold.

Isaiah's gulp and pocket digging brought Phisto back to the present.  Calming somewhat at the slip of paper, he raised a quizzical eyebrow.  Leaning forward, he slid his hand to meet Isaiah's.  Gently pulling the paper from Isaiah's fingers, he dragged his hand back across the table quickly, but easily, slipping the paper into his own suit jacket.  His eyes narrowed, a single nod communicating he understood.  Phisto pulled his left hand from his jacket, clenching it into a fist and breathing out.  The buzz in his head reduced and his back loosened.

...to the letter.

The warmth returned to Phisto's smile, "You think Jameson made the best choice?"
He settled back into his seat, resting his head against the wall. "Couldn't say. Never walked a mile in the man's shoes. But I know that becoming Elite cost him something. It always does."

His fingers traced the bottom of the cup, feeling the warmth radiating from it on his fingertips. Phisto must have known all too well the wages of the profession. They'd only spoken a few times, but they shared more in common than perhaps either one was willing to admit. We're not reflections of each other. Shadows, maybe.

"But... that's not what this is about. I guess I brought him up because I'm about to do the same. I'm... leaving. I'm choosing to. I'm taking things into my own hands and going on my terms."

Stop sounding so fatalistic.

"In the coming days and weeks, you're going to hear things. If you do what I ask and carry out those instructions, you're going to learn things you might wish you hadn't. And you might learn things about me that..." his voice trailed off. He swallowed hard again, his eyes becoming unfocused. "Well, every sinner has to confess at some point.  Just make sure you follow the instructions and get the things mentioned to the right people for me. I won't be around to do it myself, I'm afraid."

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ROLEPLAY ONLY! Respect the universe settings!
If you are new here, please try to at least partially involve in the ongoing stories and conversations instead of establishing a completely different "arc". You can always turn it to a different story later.