Travis Kroells

Hey, there's only one return and it's of the Jedi.

I think I'd rather go up in one of these.

Maybe its just me, but that Walrus seems extremely pissed off.

I tend to just pay attention to whats going on in the room with me, if something very plot important is happening somewhere else (If Applicable) and anything that involves my name :rolleyes: Im vein like that. More then often, you'll be fine like that. More then often, if someone is trying to get your attention they'll PM you or simply repost. Also don't be afraid to PM someone to ask them whats up. Don't be afraid to ask your GM's whats going on in the plot if you happen to forget something. They're here to make sure that everything goes smoothly and that we all have a good time for an hour, and they don't even charge! Also remember that things are sometimes more hectic in an Academy then in an Advanced sim. This isn't a bad thing, everyone has to learn the ropes sometime. With dozens of new simmers running around trying to do their thing, its easy to get lost in the thick of it all. But don't forget that there are a lot of graduated players that enjoy a good hour of Academia bloodbath. So dont be afraid to ask around, and of course if theres something you really cant remember, there are always chat logs of all the Academies and Advanced Sims that go on around here. And the most important rule: There are no stupid questions, only stupid answers. (And sometimes people) ^_^

Repetitive Stress Disorder.

Yeah, this looks pretty interesting. I read an article about it a couple months back in my Game Informer or something like that. I'm going to build an army of mutant space fish that shoot lasers out of their eyes. And they'll rule the galaxy.

Hi, howdy, ho. This is Travis's player here to give you several authors notes about this, I suppose novel like thing. I've been doodling with this for a while now, writing the back story to Jamie, and filling in the blank pages on Travis for a little while. I was personally waiting for an opertune moment in the plotline to release it, but since that may be far away I've decided just to post it for your reading pleasure, and so that you all can know stuff that is...uh, optional :blink: In those regards, this is the first major writing project I've done for STSF that takes place out of a regular plotline. Because of that, I've held no punches in writing this. The themes are mature, and such. Everything that can be posted here will, and when the time comes for something thats not appropriate for the boards, I'll provide away for you to get to it, as to keep things as clean as possible. Other then that, there's not much more to say, so I hope you enjoy. :P P.S. I'll update about once a week or so, to keep the topic from stagnating...that, and I'm not done yet either :lol: Edit: Also, if someone could send me the mailing list for Agincourt at my new email, [email protected] that would allow me to actually start emailing logs too.

“Summer: Avengard, Part II” The vault was a triple tritanium reinforced polymer. You could have fired a quantum torpedo at the thing and it would have laughed at you for the weakness in your attempt. It was designed to keep naughty men like him out, money in. But then again, Travis wasn’t here to blow it up. He was here to get that shiny door to believe he was a much loved employee here at Avengard. Everything is controlled by computers. They may have been light years more advanced then their ancient earth ancestors. Far flung from simple DOS commands, back slashes and colons, but the concept was the same. They did what you told them to do. They did what you told them to do even when they knew it was wrong. All it took was a certain level of finesse. Travis had that finesse. Before he’d finish, the computer would love him, and do anything for him. “How long?” Kroells turned back to the man who had accompanied him to the vault. He was a giant in all regards. Travis was on the taller side for humans at nearly six and a half feet, but he was dwarfed by the other mans stature easily. “Shouldn’t be long. Half hour at the longest. You just make sure our escape route is viable.” He had obviously touched a note there as the man grabbed his neck with one giant hand, easily lifting him off the floor, bringing the two eye level for the first time. What Travis saw in those cold dead irises scared him. “Don’t tell me how to run my job.” The words slowly poured out with acidity as his grip tightened around his throat, cutting off the airflow. A little more effort and he could have probably crushed the bones into a fine powder. But he didn’t. He couldn’t and Kroells knew it. Instead he let go, dropping him in a heap on the floor, gasping for breath. He turned away, walking back towards the lobby. “That vault better be open by the time I come back.” Travis sighed, gently rubbing the battered flesh of his neck. He couldn’t kill him; they needed him to open the vault. It didn’t give him any power though. He needed them. They had his son. In that regard they held all the power still. Their need for him was temporary. He served no purpose after that door opened. He pulled out his tools and got to work. He’d have to think of something on the go. … Nearly twenty-five minutes passed until that glorious thing happened and he became Cassius Fett, three year employee of the Avengard Latinum Depository. The vault opened for him. It didn’t like Travis Kroells, disgraced officer turned murderer, turned bank robber. What a way to fall… Two other men joined him in the back. Not the big one this time. They were happy, and congratulated Kroells accordingly. Then they got to work. Putting transport markers on everything shiny in the room. Once they were done, the three walked out into the vault to the others. Only three hostages remained now. The rest were dead, as was necessary. Within moments the contents of the vault were scramble transported to a cloaked shuttle in orbit. Untraceable, quite convenient, unsafe for humans however, seeing as how our parts were a little more delicate then a hunk of gold pressed latinum. No, their escape would be much more…death defying. “So then Ethan, the master bank robber you are, tell me this: How the hell do we get out of a bank with its own dedicated security force? Lots of scary men with guns and all kinds of hell will drop in on us within ten minutes from when we enter.” That sick yellow smile again. He liked knowing more then Travis. “Hostages. All the galaxy is a PR stage. They won’t rush in if innocents are in the way. They’ll negotiate, long enough to do what needs to be done.” “Yes, the loot is all fine and good but what about us?” “Well, this heist will be the death of you. Quite literally. See, we can’t beam you out, it’ll be traced. So the only way out is on the ground and you’ll have to die for that to work.” Travis cleared his throat. “Excuse me?” He smirked. “See, I have a large number of the EMT’s under my wing. Once the money is out, kill the rest of the hostages, take the hypo and detonate. The drugs will in effect make you dead. Once the dust settles and they clear the corpses out you’ll be brought back to me…instead of the morgue. Simple no?” Too simple. The three hostages remained on their knees, blindfolded as the hypos were distributed. Travis regarded this with some irony. Not often you die to become rich. Travis readied it, slowly bringing it to his neck before the giant grabbed his arm with near bone crushing force. “No, you go last. Dispose of them then blow it.” The man next to him, his second in command protested. “You’re going to trust this little ###### ant to finish the job!?” He turned back to him with a smirk. “Who better to take the fall if something goes fubar?” He got the point and died. They all died. This left Kroells standing alone in a room with three more destined to die. He did it quickly, their crumpled corpses staining the carpet with blood. He entered a code onto his padd. It’d be a minute now before the bomb in the vault went off. Not enough to destroy the building, but enough to create a mess. Just as Ethan liked, he liked messy things. This however gave Travis a minute of free roam, and he knew just what to do. He grabbed another hypo from the bag, injecting the giant again. This time he wouldn’t fake death, he’d play it to a perfect note. Thirty seconds now. Not much more to do but die. And so he did. And until he awoke again with Ethan staring over him the world was perfect. Then he smiled that sick yellow smile. … It was a day later when he returned to Travis; interrupting his sleep on the musty mat they called a bed. “I’m proud of you Travis. You did good.” “The computer system was easy. You didn’t need someone with my skills for this.” He shrugged. “True. But it’s better safe then sorry eh? Besides, I wasn’t talking about the job.” “…Then what?” “Killing Riiken.” The giant. Travis froze. They knew. They knew he’d overdosed him and now he was going to die for it. Jamie too. “I…I…” “He had delusions of being me. Getting quite annoying too. You did good by getting rid of him. Just ask me next time before you go off killing other members of your team alright?” He walked out, leaving Kroells in stunned silence. Gods what has happened? He thought of Tyler, where he could be, if he was even alive anymore. Ethan hadn’t handed Jamie over to him which meant he wasn’t done with Travis yet. He wasn’t surprised; they’d string him along as long as they could before being done with him. It gave him time however, to find away to get his family out. So he’d play along, and be the naughty man they wanted him to be. This was just the beginning.

The phrase "WTF?" has never had more meaning then right now.

What happens if the blind person doesn't have any family, or friends eh?

I just watched Cowboy Bebop through not to long ago. Good series, one of my tops for sure. That and Trigun, which really ticks me off seeing as how I've seen every eppisode except for the last one :blink:

“Summer: Avengard, Part I” Travis stood in the pouring rain, staring down the Avengard Latinum depository from the opposite end of a large intersection. Water poured down his face as he watched the wealthy business people hurry in and out, doing anything they could to avoid a dousing. He glanced back to the five men behind him, then to the crosswalk sign. Everything was about to change. “I think I’d know if I had a son Ethan.” Rom let out pushed the padd into his face. “Read.” Kroells’s eyes darted over the text. It was paternal tests, DNA markers and whatnot. He continued to watch the data scroll down. According to this, He was the child’s father, and the mother...the mother was...Kayla? “It’s not possible.” Ethan’s yellow teeth shown with sickening glee. “Oh but it is. She never told you, did she? That she was pregnant.” Travis’s eyes darted back to padd and then to Rom. “She couldn’t have been. She would have told me.” The light flickered, it was now or never. The six of them quickly crossed the street, Avengard looming closer with each step. They entered the large doors, the man closest to him whispering in his ear. “Follow the script or I’ll kill you myself.” The group spend all of four seconds inside the building before all hell broke loose. Disruptors raised in six different directions, taking down guards, cameras and anyone too stupid to be caught in the middle. Travis scanned the room for any threats, catching an inattentive guard between his disruptor's sights. The other man quickly raised his weapon, aiming for Kroells’s head. It was now or never. Kill or be killed. Ethan slowly unshackled him as the child ran to him, and innocent smile on his face that belayed what this place was and who the men who surrounded him were. Travis slowly crouched down, meeting him on eye level. Ethan calmly cleared his throat. “His name is Jamie.” Part of him didn’t believe it. It had to be some trick. But at the same time, part of him looked into this child’s eyes, and saw Kayla looking back at him, and it was all he needed. So what did he believe? Heart or Mind? “Explain.” “After you’re...uncooperative nature at the bar, I did some digging into your Starfleet files, searching for anything we could use against you that mattered more to you then money. You’re alienated from your father, your former crew, you pretty much keep everyone you know at arms length.” Travis looked up to Ethan, and then around the room. “For good reasons.” Rom smirked as he continued. “I was almost at an impasse. That was, until I looked up your shuttle accident. I discovered that this fiance of yours...Kayla something...was killed in the accident. I dug a little further, and found something that shocked even me.” Travis’s attention shifted fully from the boy now to Ethan. “Kayla was pregnant when she died. If she knew it, or not is regardless. It’s what her parents did after the fact that is the most disturbing.” Kroells’s face was pale. Watching Ethan’s expressions told him he wasn’t lying. “What happened?” He let out a small, almost sympathetic sigh. “When her parent’s found out about the accident, and the subsequent pregnancy, they did the only thing that their power and influence could still do for their daughter. They had the fetus removed, and transplanted into a surrogate mother. Most of Kayla’s injuries were related to head trauma, as I’m sure you know. The fetus proved viable, and after young Jamie here was born, her parents went on to raise him as their own. Maybe they were desperately trying to hold onto the daughter they lost...but to me it’s just sick.” For the first time, Travis had to agree with him...if he was telling the truth. “Quite the tragic story...but how do I have any proof that it’s true? All these test results, and the story could easily be fabricated. What guarantee do I have that he’s my son?” Those yellow teeth reemerged. The business man was back. “You don’t. Further more, if you don’t do what I ask of you, young James here will suffer. Is he your son? Maybe, maybe not, that’s your own problem.” He paused for a second, pulling out a disruptor, pointing it at the young boys bewildered face. “I have to wonder though, Travis Kroells...man of honor, can you take the risk? What if he is? Hell, can you even just let me kill this kid, even if he has no connection to you what-so-ever?” Travis sat there on his knees, watching Ethan and the boy. A small part of him simply wanted him to blow him away, be done with it so that he could be next. But he realized a larger part of him was just as sick as Kayla’s parents. He wanted to hold onto her, so badly that it made him stand up, and stare him in the face. “What would you like me to do?” The guard hit the ground like a sack of bricks. A tiny bit of smoke poofing out from where his face was two seconds ago. Travis stood standstill for a moment. Every voice of reason in his mind screaming out at what he had just done. He quickly stifled them out with the thought of his son. He had to do it, he had to do anything. He grabbed his tools off the ground, following one of the other men into the back while the first four secured the lobby. The aching feeling in the pit of his stomach was already battling the reward of getting his son back. And things were just getting started.

Earth Dragon- (If you're born within specific dates in the chinese new year, you're also given an elemental sign to augment your animal zodiac. Check Wiki for the dates and such, I dont feel like posting.) Earth is one of the five elements of the Chinese tradition. It is associated with the planet Saturn and the colour yellow, and lies at the centre of the compass in the Chinese cosmos. It is believed to govern the spleen and stomach. It is associated with the qualities of patience, thoughtfulness, hard work and stability. Other attributes of the earth element are ambition, stubbornness, responsibility and long-term planning. In pathology, the earth can represent selfishness and self-centeredness. The element earth plays an important role in Chinese Astrology and in feng shui , the Chinese form of geomancy. The Dragon is omnipotent. He/she is flamboyant, attractive and full of vitality and strength. In China, the Dragon is the sign of the Emperor of China or the male element Yang. The Dragon is the symbol of power and wealth. It would be right to say that people born in the year of the dragon have a natural charisma and are certainly gifted with power and luck. It is unlikely for them to escape unnoticed from a party or to take second place in a competition. The dragon person has an active mind and shows an unfeigned interest in the world around him/her. This person is also self-confident enough to know how to create a necessary impression. Because they are larger than life themselves, dragon people like to do everything on a grand scale. They are egotistical and ambitious, almost to the point of megalomania, and will stop at nothing to get what they want. A person born in this year wears the crown of destiny, and is capable of great achievements if he or she knows how to harness his or her tremendous energy, intelligence and talent. While these people enjoy being the center of attention, they also have a brave and charitable side to their personality. If a dragon's friend faces a problem or dilemma, he or she will be there to offer help, and when others leave the field of battle the dragon takes a step forward to solve the problem with authority and dignity. Dragons set a high standard of actions for themselves as well as for other people and are surprised when others cannot cope with a task; they are so carried away by the process that they fail to see other people's weaknesses. Their faults can be as large in scale as their virtues, and an excessively negative Dragon can be one of the most unpleasant human beings imaginable, displaying extreme arrogance, autocratic pride, haughtiness, and excessive hastiness of temper. If jealously suspicious of rivals, they will not hesitate to use cunning, lies and trickery to discredit them. Self-centeredness, greed for flattery, boastfulness, and bombast, pomposity, snobbish superiority, and overbearing, and intolerant disdain of underlings; to whom they will nevertheless delegate the carrying out of minor details in their grandiose schemes, and from whom they are not above borrowing immoderately if an occasion necessitates it. Any of these can be characteristic of the Dragon. Add to them a passion for luxury, a lust for power, unlimited sexual lust, and emotional indulgence, and a character emerges that no one would want to know either in public life or private. But their pride may go before a fall, as uncontrolled impetuosity is likely to bring them low. Fortunately it is rare that a Dragon is so undisciplined as to give way thoroughly to this list of vices, and their tendencies to them are usually balanced by an innate wisdom. Those who are afflicted with them also have the intelligence it takes to consciously and actively overcome them.

You know, I've always wondered what causes a zoophile to be a zoophile. Probably because animals don't complain as much when you don't mow the lawn.

I myself am a dragon, which is really the only reason I pay any attention to the whole thing. That, and I find it funny that both my parents are rats. ;)

As they say, war is good for business.

I had the greatest boss back when I worked at the Grocery Store when I turned 16. We used to have shopping cart races down the store, and we'd steal candy from the dispensers. Kinda sucked when we got fired.

Hmm if I could get mine changed to "Naughty Man For Hire" That'd be great

“Summer: Reason and Purpose” It had almost been a month now, since he awoke in what could only be best described as a dungeon. Before him sat Ethan, casually watching him, almost as if he were watching a pet. The first few days, after he had awoken no one came. Hunger and thirst set in as he was forced to ###### himself while hanging from the wall. Finally after three days, when the dehydration was about to take him, they gave him water. Just enough to keep him alive. After that, people would come randomly just to beat him. Kroells had to wonder if this was how they killed new recruits who turned down their first job. Regardless, for the last fifteen minutes, he’d been stared down by a man, who for the first time in days, hadn’t either force fed him brown and polluted water, or beat the living hell out of him. “I’m sure, by now you’re starting to wonder if there is any point to this...or if I’m just enjoying myself before killing you.” Travis let out a dry cough, which only cracked his chapped lips, turning it into an annoyed wince. “Yeah, I suppose. I’ve had a bit to mull about the idea...” An amused smirk lined Ethan’s face. “I like you Kroells, I really do. That’s why it hurts me having to do this to you. Now, you could have just taken the money and done what you we’re supposed to, but you unwillingness to cooperate has slowed down this entire operation. I’ve tried convincing you to do the right thing, but you’ve been stubborn and have forced me to take drastic measures.” “Well it’s good to know this isn’t day to day business.” Ethan gave him a look, a look that told Kroells he had no idea what was going on. Given his situation, it didn’t surprise him, but it bothered him none the less. “I wasn’t talking about your shackles Travis. This place is sort of a last chance for recruits like you, who have ‘moral’ reservations about doing what is necessary. Usually, we either convince them the money is worth the work, or we kill them.” Kroells’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Then why am I still alive?” Those yellow teeth reappeared. “Normally you wouldn’t be. However, I’ve held off on that part for one last attempt to bring you back. Like I said Kroells, I like you. You’re a man of honor, which made me wonder what made you and your cousin come to me in the first place...” Travis scowled as Ethan pulled out a Starfleet padd, and began reading. “Lieutenant Travis Jon Kroells...retired. Former Chief of Science on the USS Reaent, where I see you had quite the interesting career. Demoted once for refusal to obey orders...although looking at you I’m betting it was for some noble reason... Co-creator of the Kroells-Garnoopy array, which is currently being tested for practical use, and from what my sources tell me, may very well become standard issue on Starfleet ships.” “Stop.” “Let’s see...Son of Admiral Barry Kroells, secretary of Starfleet Department on Interstellar Piracy.” Ethan paused as a large grin traced his face. “Rebelling against daddy maybe? Regardless, you seem to crave tragedy Travis. You left Starfleet to avoid court martial. Your file shows numerous reports of insubordination and disrespect...however one event which happened during your academy days strikes me as the most important.” The color left Travis’s face as Ethan stared him down. “Don’t...” “In your final year of the academy, in a joy ride in a stolen shuttle gone wrong you accidentally killed your best friend Andrew O’Connor and your fiancée Kayla Hauser.” In an instant the pale look of grief turned into a blinding rage as he lashed out at Ethan, his fists stopping inches from his face by the chains, cutting into his skin causing the blood to pour down his arms. Ethan let out a small chuckle at the attempt. “Come now Travis, you shouldn’t be so angry. In fact, the only reason you’re alive right now is because I bothered to look up on you.” He turned to a cliché of a guard standing by the door. “Get him.” The guard returned with a toddler, couldn’t have been older then two or three. Ethan smiled as he picked him up, walking over to Travis, presenting to him. He had the most beautiful eyes...almost like... “What is this?” Ethan’s yellow teeth looked even more disgusting next to the child. “This? This is you’re motivation Travis. This is your son.”

To anyone who didn't see monday's two hour 24gasm sure did miss out. Me and my buds were debating afterwards though how long we would have lasted Fayed's little torture test. I dont know how long I'd last, maybe 1-3 at the best. I guess its a good thing I dont know how to arm nuclear weapons, yet... Anyways, the question goes out to you guys now.

Ugh, and I was hoping for a slurred post too ;) Happy late B-Day man.

He called you common. I believe a proper...uh... If female dogs are bitches, what are female cats? Whatever they are, thats how you should slap him. Yep.

I knew they'd find a purpose for them someday.

Problem with my Zombie dreams are that they're either so whacked that I know it's fake, or they're so realistic that I wake up and call people to make sure it's not the end of the world. I remember one a while back where the town was going to hell, and I was with my father for some reason. We're both in the garage, and I'm loading up the car with supplies and things that make heads explode nicely. For absolutely no reason, he starts grilling! I don't know if this attracted the Zombies or not, but the next thing I know, they bust in and eat his face. I know I'm screwed so I off myself and fall out of the bed. One other weird dream I had happened way back in middle school, but I remember it still to this day. I don't know where it came from, but it was one of those classic black and white Dick Tracy style dreams. Everything was in black and white, and remember narrating the dream to myself like in the movies. It was the greatest: Guns, sexy dames from my school coming into the P.I. for help. Ugh I wish I could relive that one again.