#constantin lupei

[colony22graphics]

𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆; made of stardust and ash. 

❝ — are you not afraid of the universe and its infinite expanse? ❞

                                     ❝ i am the unfathomable cosmos. i contain multitudes. ❞

[colony22games]

OUTCOME - CYCLE 1, ROUND 2

ACTION CHOSEN: [EVADE]

Warned by fellow teammate, CONSTANTIN LUPEI, in a lookout formation via Telepathy, CLOVE is able to fall behind the cover of some trees. But what he doesn’t know is that CAMBIE was leading him into a trap—literally. Clove steps into a springing net trap, yanked into the air in a tangle of rope, dropping his weapon. Cambie approaches him to try to steal his key but luckily, LORENZO SALAZAR arrives just in time and takes a shot at Cambie. He misses, and Cambie shoots back, hitting Lorenzo in the leg and then running away. Lorenzo cuts Clove down, but Cambie has escaped.

POINTS LOST: [50]

This concludes ROUND 2. Thank you to TORREN Representative, CLOVE MODIUS!

UP NEXT: ROUND 3 - DELMA - PERSEPHONE EVANS

[the-colony-roleplay]

Constantin Lupei | Thirty Six;  Survivor

House: Torren Security Class: 2 Status: Infected - Telepathy

History

Constantin suspects he might have been one of the first people to see the asteroids coming in 2157. There were five of them on the International Space Station at the time: Constantin Lupei, Romanian, ISS systems engineer. Zander Koch, American, ISS mission commander. Fan Shi Hui, Chinese, ISS medical officer. Anaya Dolmen, English, botanist. And finally, Dostovalova Natalia Mikhailovna, Russian, ISS Navigator. When the asteroids came, Constantin had been there the shortest time, at only two months, and he was struggling to connect with the other astronauts as the only common language between them was English, and Costin’s grasp of the language had always been shaky. He was just a small-town Romanian boy, really, that had studied hard, worked his way through the ranks of the air force,  and achieved his goals. Every kid wants to be an astronaut; most grow out of it, but Costin never did. The difficulty he had communicating didn’t stop him from alerting everyone to the anomaly he saw from one of the windows, and the crew immediately jumped into action to alert those on the ground that an asteroid shower was heading directly for earth.

Their message got through, but there hadn’t been enough time for it to make any difference. Costin and the rest of the crew watched in numb horror as their home was buried in fire. They kept talking to those on the ground, gathered around the communications device until it was cut off. The other four soon left to mourn in private; that would turn out to be their greatest mistake, as the node containing the crew sleeping quarters would be struck by an asteroid shortly after.

Zander, Natalia, and Shi Hui were killed immediately. Anaya’s room was spared, but the passageway connecting her node to the Cupola module where Costin was was badly damaged. She was trapped, the connecting tube too badly compromised for them to be able to risk opening the doors, and their communications were down. The only mercy was that emergency rations were stored in each astronauts quarters, enough to supply them a month - more, if they were careful.

They kept busy; it wasn’t difficult, particularly for Costin with the whole station to roam. The ISS was badly damaged, and if they valued their lives then he would have to keep working on repairing it. He worked through his mourning, and at first Costin assumed the near-unbearable headaches were a grief response. They grew worse, making concentrating more and more difficult as his ears began to ring. And then after two months, something changed. He was sitting at the window through which he could still see Anaya, holding up notes to let her know that he was trying to work something out. Anaya was growing increasingly thin, eating only a third of the recommended rations each day, and nearly mad with loneliness as she was trapped between four small walls. As Costin was thinking how horrific it must be for her to be there, she sat bolt upright, and even from such a great distance, he could see how wide her eyes had gone. I CAN HEAR YOU, she wrote, and so it was that the Infections first began to manifest - they realise now that when the ship had been damaged, the strange orange gas that seeped through the cracks had affected them.

Over the next few weeks, Costin worked at his telepathy, ‘talking’ to Anaya as often as he could, while at the same time her telekinesis presented itself. After months of work and tentative planning, Costin began to teach her how she might repair the airlock and make it safe for her to cross. She didn’t have a spacesuit with her, but using her telekinesis she might be able to repair it enough that it wouldn’t matter. She was terrified, because one wrong move could be fatal, but she was also desperate as her rations ran frighteningly thin. Six months after D-Day, she finally managed it under Costin’s careful instruction. She hadn’t eaten for a week by then, and when she fell into Constin’s arms he knew she weighed next to nothing, even in zero gravity.

They both wept. And now that they were reunited, they discussed trying to return to earth in one of the emergency vessels. Having not seen any sign of life since the asteroids hit, and they weren’t sure if they could bear returning to a dead planet. So they tried to live, fixing up what parts of the ship they could, calculating how long the rations would last (a long time, between just the two of them), and what the point of it all was. They honed their Infections, Anaya’s being particularly interesting in zero-grav. For want of anything else to do, they began to experiment, taking extensive notes and writing papers just for their own satisfaction.

They were almost happy, for a time. The months turned into years, and somehow they learned to live. Sometimes they even laughed. That changed in July, 2162, when another shower of asteroids shot past. The ISS was spared any further damage, but the planet was once more aflame. The sight of it spurred Costin into action; he wasn’t sure what had changed in his perception, except for the fact that even if every single person on Earth had died, he and Anaya had survived. They wouldn’t be able to live up here forever, but if they returned to Earth, maybe they could salvage a life that would last beyond the next couple of years that their rations would allow.

If they died, Costin said, it was better to die in pursuit of a better life than to waste away up here when the food ran out. The emergency vessels had sustained only minimal damage, and he worked on one for several weeks until he was satisfied that it would be safe. They spent a day walking around, saying goodbye to the station that had been their home for the past four years, and packing as much research and rations into their return ship as they could fit.

And then, they left. Both sending out prayers that they would make it back, both white-knuckled with nerves, both absolutely silent until they re-entered the atmosphere. They came crashing down in the Atlantic, miraculously both alive and unharmed. Shortly after they were picked up by a merchant vessel who took them to shore.

Costin Today

After so many years in space, Costin and Anaya struggled to adjust to life back on earth, with the gravity wreaking havoc on their systems. They were taken first to Colony 4, until they had recovered their strength enough to travel a little further. Both of them were transported to Colony 22 in December, where it was hoped that they could provide assistance with the lab research thanks to their experience, both with lab work and their own Infections. It was soon ascertained however, after a few conversations with the CISM team, that neither of them were in any state to be working on sensitive material or be given too much responsibility.

Costin is by far the more outgoing of the two. Although his English skills are still lacking, he learned a lot with Anaya over the years, and he is keen to talk to people. He can seem gruff at first, thanks to his eastern European upbringing and years of near-isolation, but he means well and likes to be surrounded by people. In fact, he can be needy at times, desperate to stay close to anyone that will let him stick around. He is also, unfortunately, highly emotional. So much trauma has left him fragile, and he can be laughing loudly one moment, only to dissolve into tears the next. Open as he is with his emotions, they can be unpredictable, and until he gets a better grip on that it’s been made clear that he won’t be permitted to be around the research.

That’s fine by him, as he and Anaya have their little secret - all the research they conducted on the ISS. They had planned on sharing it, but seeing the NWRF in action made them reconsider. All of their work is handwritten, hidden in slits that they put in their mattresses, because they don’t want to help those in power. When it comes to training and the Games, Costin is a hard worker, but not the most proficient. His body is still weak from being in space for years longer than anticipated, so he tires easily. He does, however, have an aptitude for long range weaponry thanks to his training from the air force, and is finding it very therapeutic. He has excellent control over his telepathy, and although he doesn’t often use it during AP training, he uses it daily with Anaya. For all of his outgoing nature, Costin is struggling to fully trust anyone but her. He thought that the Infections were an incredible gift, but the NWRF clearly have other ideas, and so he is wary of saying too much: the physical proximity to other people feels like it is healing him, but the emotional proximity terrifies him.

RELATED BIOS: ANAYA DOLMEN

TAKEN; Original Character

[quinn-dervilia]

ALL FOR ONE || quinn & constantin

CONSTANTIN LUPEI​

[As far as training goes, Constantin likes weapons best. He’d had plenty of training in all sorts of combat during his time in the air force, but much of that training was stripped from him in the last years. Excellent aim is just about all he can feel confident in now.

He still suffers from frequent bouts of blurry vision, but he can generally still make out the mark well enough. It’s more inconvenient when it comes to things like reading. So, he’s feeling reasonably positive today. As positive as he ever feels these days, anyway. His partner excuses themselves for a bathroom break, and Constantin nods. They’d been kneeling on the ground, aiming for a low target, and he gets up to stretch his legs as he waits. The action gives him an abrupt head rush, dizzying him and making his vision blur terribly, and he teeters to the side.

Right in front of someone else’s weapon, apparently, which is obviously number one on the list of things you want to avoid. Though the person’s tone isn’t harsh, Constantin gets the idea he’s unimpressed.] 

Uh huh, is good advice. [He tries not to sound too grumpy as he says it. Doesn’t really appreciate being snarked at while he can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. He tries to look at the man, wills his vision a little more into focus, and thinks: shit. The chancellor. Constantin’s had nothing to do with him before. Nothing particularly against the guy, but he’s always got an air of acute busy-ness about him, like he’s not got time to chat. Well, he probably doesn’t. Constantin is going to simply get out of the way and leave it at that, but as he tries to move off he staggers.] 

Pula mea. [The oath is uttered low and surprised as he grabs the nearest thing he can for support. The chancellor’s arm, unfortunately. Constantin closes his eyes, takes a slow deep breath, and wills himself not to fall over. He’ll address the embarrassment of grabbing the guy in a moment, but for now he’s quite focused on remaining upright. Like an old fucking man, he thinks, hating the cage of his body.] 

[[  Quinn recognizes Constantin immediately. He was one of the more interesting survivors on this little rock: one of the two last surviving astronauts. Althaea would be besides herself. A curious, inquisitive child she would want to ask the man too many questions and likely get herself too worked up and flustered in the excitement of it all.

Given her ill health, she was always focused on books and learning. She only ever got to see the beauty of the world through books or screens. Opportunities all stripped from her by asteroids and monsters pretending to be men.

Quinn purses his lips until he notices the man’s unsteady gaze, the obviously off kilter weighting of his pose. Quinn’s weapon is place on the ground, safely pointing away from himself and nowhere that Constantin could stumble onto. As he predicted, Constantin stumbles when he makes a move. It just so happens Quinn is the nearest source of support and his arm is gripped by the man. Quinn moves to hold onto Constantin’s hand, keeping it steady as Quinn pushes himself upright. ]]

I’ve got you. [[ His free hand takes Constantin’s other other in his grip. It’s a loose hold, merely to keep the guy upright. ]] Take your time. [[ The words are less of a gentle suggestion but a simply instruction. The man sounds grumpy, looks pissed off at himself. Any attempts to shrug off help would simply be wounded pride at play. ]]

@cvnstantin​

[cvnstantin]

tradition (au) | koda & constantin

@kxdapaync​

[Inviting Koda and Suvi home for Christmas had been completely spontaneous, though in the weeks between extending the invitation, and them actually flying back to Romania, he’d had time to think about a lot of things. He’d already explained to Koda that he was going to have to introduce him as Constantin’s ‘friend’, because he just wasn’t ready to have that particular conversation. He’d also explained that while Suvi was there, his mother would absolutely pester her at all hours for her thoughts and opinions and readings on things.

One thing he’d failed to mention, was the Christmas traditions celebrated in Romania. Having spent the last few Christmases in England, he realised that Romanian Christmases were extravagant in ways English Christmases simply weren’t.

They’d arrived a few hours ago, and true to form Constantin’s mother, Byni, had made them extremely welcome -- she’d showed their guests around the modest house, taken them for a walk around the farm, stuffed them full of food, but had now ushered Constantin and Koda away so that Suvi could read her cards in peace. That was nice, Constantin thought. They were getting on well. The two women barely spoke a word of the same language but it wasn’t stopping them. 

With the sitting room taken over by fortune telling, and Constantin’s father preparing dinner in the kitchen, Constantin and Koda retired to his room. They were sharing it, because the Lupei’s had no spare bedrooms and Suvi was getting the sofa bed in the sitting room. Koda was going to sleep on the air mattress on Constantin’s floor -- so Byni believed, anyway.

His room hadn’t changed much since he was a child, because in many ways Constantin hadn’t changed much. The walls were painted sky blue, and extensively papered in posters featuring stars and planets and various space related things. There were glow in the dark stars stuck on the ceiling, which he’d just never bothered to take down. Out of the window, there was a view of the farm, with a few pigs snuffling about in the mud, though it may soon freeze over as a few pale snowflakes drift through the air. He perched on the window seat that his father had built, gesturing for Koda to sit on the bed. He wanted to take this opportunity to let Koda know what the next week or two would entail, because there was going to be a lot going on. And he knew Koda wouldn’t really mind at all, but he was just... a little worried that it was going to be too weird for Koda.

‘Too weird for Koda’... alright, not terribly likely, but he’s worried anyway.] 

Just so you can know, Christmas here is not exactly like in England. For one thing, ve are take the singing very seriously. Everyone go out tonight, and every night all veek because ve must visit every house in village before Christmas.  [He’s working his way, slowly, towards the pig sacrifice, because that’s the thing he’s really worried about, but it’s also one of the most important traditions for the families in this village.]

[vinodiriso]

CHARACTER SHEET --- TIMELINE.

NAME: Adrian Mihai Lupei.

PLACE OF BIRTH: Alba Iulia, Transylvania, Romania.

NATIONALITY: Romanian.

CALLSIGN: Prototip.

ALIASES: Lup-ul [formerly], Dmitry Blatov.

BIRTHDAY: 15/11 (Scorpio).

OCCUPATION: Soldier of fortune.

BASE OF OPERATION: Bucharest, Romania.

AFFILIATION: Romanian-Moldovan Fourth Anti-Omnic Regiment (Românesc și Moldovenesc Anti-Omnic A Patra Regiment) [formerly].

BACKGROUND: read more ‘cause it’s pretty long.

It’s hard as fuck to be a boy and grow up without a father. Shit, do you have any idea how goddamn disheartening it is to feel lost, hopeless, and seeing nothing when you dare looking back? Who the fuck was supposed to be my model? Who the fuck should I have been inspired from when choosing the man I had eventually to become?

But, hey, somehow I managed. I’ve become a man… and a fucking ugly one. The name’s Adrian — no, not Edrian, you fucker, it’s Adriàn — you know what? Call me Prototip. It’s gonna make it easier. Nowadays it feels more me than my actual name regardless.

I went to school for I think 8, maybe 9 years. My grades weren’t half bad, I was a smart kid, always been, but mamă alone couldn’t bring home enough money to sustain the family. It was only the two of us, sure, but when at every corner of the street you can find a fucking tin can doing whatever job better than a man in flesh and bones, who the fuck would hire a slow, sloppy, fragile human person? Soon enough, I was off my way. Already mentioned I was a smart boy, didn’t I? I learned not to shy away from anything. I am not lying when I tell ya I have literally swum in sewage, punched my way through asbestos and other cancerous shit (tsk, like today I should care!), breathed in mouthful of the toxic, radioactive wastes of old, abandoned Omnic factories to raid spare parts… surviving is surviving, dude. And surviving in an underdeveloped, poor, rural zone of Eastern Europe usually means to deal with the nastiest shit you could imagine. You want to know when was the first time I was clobbered over a job? The first time I had to shove a knife between a man’s ribs? Yeah, better.

Managed to stay in the world this way for six years, right before my beloved country, trăiască!, decided they had to do something to stop the raids of the Western Russia Omnium that had brought, in 10 years, Eastern Europe to its knees. Or rather, that we had to do something to stop the raids, because we had to enlist to the new formed Romanian-Moldovan Ally Military Force to save our houses and our families. I was… shit, 20? Yeah, somewhat around that. No future, no family, no home, no expectations… the army promised it would give me a job, warm food when I was hungry, some blankets when it was cold as fuck outside… I mean, for me, back then, it was a radiant future.

It was not only me anyway, if that face of yours want to hint at that. Do you have any idea how many fucking loners like me war in my country has produced? Finally the government had found a way to make use of us; turning us into meat to slaughter and butcher, testers for their new, shiny toys. There were others… shit, the names have become so hard to recall… Bogdan, Daniel, Eugen, Isabela… yeah, those were my friends at the boot camp.

Ha… it’s funny, at times, when I think back of it… six months of training non-stop, day and night, the food was even scarcer than what I used to eat, scrawny boys and girls sent off to die because, after all, it was not like the world was ever going to miss us.

However, I proved to be different. I don’t remember exactly what the head trainer back at the boot camp said, something like “a talent for shooting” or some shit along these lines. Apparently, my aim was naturally trained… yeah, ‘naturally’. Not like I had been aiming down the barrel of my American magnum for the previous six years. What a fucking retard.

I got signed up for something a little bit more special. Two years more off the front, Adi was about to become a sniper for the Fourth Regiment, the big names: Alexandru Averescu, Constantin Prezan, Ion Antonescu… never heard of them? Oh my God, remind me why the fuck I am still talking with you? Yeah, those were big names for us, mareșal, nothing to kid with. I was good, I mean, I don’t want to come out as big-mouthed or anything, but--- like, shit, I had proved to be worth my place. Again, it was not like I wanted to protect my nation, forget about that shit, but like… I finally had a place to feel good in, you know? Call me a romantic, but that was a good thing to have in your chest. And I was so sick of dealing only with anger and bruises.

The Regiment fought the Omnium on the Ukrainian border for 4 years. I got many a commendation for my work, started to make a name for myself little by little. It was like I was born to have a rifle in these scarred hands of mine, a gift from above I had just found out. They called me “Lup-ul”, back in the day; it means “the wolf” in Romanian, a reference to my surname, Lupei. Yeah, I know, pretty basic, but it does have its kick, no? Anyways… good times are always so fast to pass.

We were based in Lysychansk, lovely place to raise kids if you ignore the bomb dropping on your head every 3 hours either from the regular army, the anarchists or the fucking bots. Mission was going smooth, backup was waiting for us just a couple of kilometres away, but it happened: my whole team got captured. There is a reason why I mentioned the anarchists, my friend. Ever heard of Beznă? Mh, at least what Romanians call Beznă; the Polishes, Ciemność; the Ukrainians, Темрява; the Russians, темнота́… and I don’t know what else. Terrorists. People that believe that a  world strangulated in chaos would be better than the mess we have now. At this point, I don’t know if they are entirely wrong.

At first, we thought we would have been sort of pieces to trade for Beznă to seal an unregistered deal with the Romanian Army… no, we were too naive to think that. I can’t and won’t tell you just what they did us, because the last ten years of my life I have tried to tear those memories away from my brain as hard as I could. If you really are eager to know, I was detained in their Siberian facility for four years before I broke free… I was the sole survivor of my team. The shit I got exposed to made me faster, stronger, smarter, more sensitive to stimuli. Paradoxically, I became a better soldier than I already was by getting captured by the enemy. I already knew a bit of Ukrainian back when I was detained so I got to catch some whispers, some gossips, but still I couldn’t understand why we got experimented and tested after, for what goal. Apparently, we were weapons for the Beznă to take over the Eastern Europe regimens. The shot didn’t miss the mark any which ways: my companions still died for ideals they did not stand for.

Back to the story, I learned that the Fourth Regiment had me and my teammates listed as deserters and we were actively sought after by the hounds of the Romanian Army. So I decided to hide in Siberia for the following year, got a new identity, lived off a nomadic style, killing animals and humans alike to eat; animals for their meat, humans for their bounties. What? Do you think I am some sort of cannibal? Oh, yeah, just because I am Romanian you think I am a vampire? Fuck off, dude.

Eventually the Romanians gave up… mostly because they lost the war. That was a hard blow for the country, but we didn’t crumble under the weight of that defeat. Romanians are tough people. We have come back from worse. As long as I was regarded, I came out of hiding, intentioned to get my name back, a new life away from conflicts, blood, war… it was impossible. Believe me, I have tried, I have tried hard, but I was no longer fit for the society. PTSD, maybe, or just I got too used to have my hands drenched in blood, whatever shit it is, I have never been able to be Adrian again. So I just embraced what I had become: Prototip AE92890, Prototip for friends.

Killer for hire, undercover agent, soldier, terrorist, I have been everything. But the job that signed me for my life was probably the only one I did for the big shots; yeah, you know who I am talking about, the heroes of the world, or rather the self-proclaimed heroes. Worked with late Commander Reyes Gabriel and Sarge Gérard Lacroix at the Lacroix Extraction Operation; intended to be back-up, I was given a more relevant position when Commander Reyes got a taste of what I was worth. I remember that day like it was yesterday, not because I was particularly attached to that job –- or at least, I wasn’t before I met him. Clarence Duncan, daughter of James Duncan, an American senator. God, I remember those bright, baby blue eyes looking up at me in fright and confusion when we got him and Madame Amelie out of the Talon labs. I was so in fucking rapture after seeing those eyes; yes, he was sickly pale, and he smelled like that chemical miasma I grew to hate when I was detained by Beznă, he was skinny, weak, frail, unable to stand on his own, but those eyes spoke to me at a level deeper than I could have ever imagined.

Even after the mission, I kept in touch with Clarence. He knew I was a mercenary, that I risked my life out there everyday, and many times he had asked me to give up that crap and join him in a normal life but… I have already told you. I was no longer fit for society. He ended up entering my world, although from an external point of view: he became a member of Overwatch council board. I was so proud of him, watching him as he fulfilled her dreams made me foolishly think that maybe if he was by my side I could have succeeded being a civilian… we tried, after Overwatch was disbanded.  Rainy Washington D.C., a small house as far as possible from his dad he started to fall out with. Those were good days, dude: got a job as an omnic repair operator (what? no, never did it once in my life, but after all the strains they got into me to enhance my ‘brain capacity’ do you think I could care less?), he was getting into politics, he was doing good, and the bed was warm every night, if you know what I mean. He was my dream, dude--- he still is. A dream I fucking destroyed.

Blame it on the drink, blame it on the fact that I was growing restless without gripping a weapon, blame it on whatever you wish, but blame it on me. I sent everything to Hell. I guess I don’t deserve to have nice things after all, uh? I can’t keep them. He kicked my ass back to where it belonged: the dark alleys, the rot-smelling corners of the metropolis, the cold world where being Adrian would only mean being weak, the world where I can be what I need to be: Prototip.

[colony22graphics]

SNOWED IN AU / CONSTANTIN & MEI ZHU

There was a terrible rumour among the peasant girls. Rumours, of women awakening with peculiar marks on their neck, memories gone and skin pale. They looked to the strange Count, a foreign man who watched from his isolated castle but was rarely seen, and said it was him. Dr. Fitrei knew better. The marks on those silly girls’ necks were just bites from stray insects, and she would prove it. As the first frost of winter lays a sparkling blanket upon the Transylvanian countryside, the doctor travels to the castle, determined to prove him a man, not a monster. But as she is welcomed into the vast, echoing halls of the Count’s home, a heavy snow begins to fall. What was supposed to be a visit of only a few nights will see her trapped there for the winter, and she may soon learn that she has  b i t t e n  off more than she can chew...

[colony22graphics]

ASTRAEUS ⁂ constantin lupei, titan of stars and astrology

Old Astraeus heard it and arose; he had covered the surface of a table with dark dust, where he was describing in traced lines a circle with the tooth of his rounding tool, within which he inscribed a square in the dark ashes, and another figure with three equal sides and angles.

—nonnus, dionysiaca 6. 1 | @cvnstantin

[colony22graphics]

CONSTANTIN LUPEI  ⚔️ DRUNK MAN’S CHEST

Constantin doesn’t have much – when he and Ana returned to Earth there wasn’t room in the pod for many items, so his wardrobe is largely comprised of what he was given on arrival at the Colony. He’s not been worried lately about dressing up nicely so he’s not bought much to pad out his wardrobe, but it’s clear how important this party is to Fee so he wants to put some effort in. He buys himself a nice white shirt at the Hub, which is a little too big for him but when left half-undone actually lends to the pirate theme. He pairs it with some black corduroy trousers he already owned, as well as a chunky black belt with a silver buckle and the ubiquitous Black Boots that every post apocalyptic survivor owns. Owning no jewelry of his own, Koda very generously allows Costin to raid his stash and pick a few bits out to bling up his outfit. He’d not had any particular plans for his hair, but Felix styles it for him in a half-up bun that he ends up really liking the look of.

[colony22graphics]

[[click images for full resolution]]

POSTCARD AU // The 2157 crew from the ISS return safely to Earth, landing in England. The crew’s engineer, Constantin Lupei, decides to take the scenic route back to Romania, and travels through Europe by train. He sends postcards to the person he’d grown closest to on the station, but as the miles between them grow, he realises he might have left something important behind…

[colony22graphics]

           ❝She’s whisky in a teacup.❞

◆ member since: nov. 10th 2014 ◆ longest character: dante carrington ◆

@dante-carrington;  I know for a fact I’ve said this before, but Maddie, I will never forget the day you applied to Belvedere.  You were the original ‘diamond in the rough’, ‘appeared from the wilds of the RPC’, ‘where has this person been all my life’ kind of applicant. I was elated by your depth of imagination, how thoroughly you understood your characters, how beautifully you wrote, and how serendipitously we connected on a level of character, muse and understanding one another. Needless to say, you did not disappoint as you lived out the remaining days of Belvedere. 

But what was more surprising than even the quality of enthusiasm and joy you brought to the group, was what you came to mean to me. I never in a million years imagined to get such a life-long and true friend out of a place like Belvedere, which had happened almost entirely on accident, nor out of RP in general (of course, little did I know, that years down the road the majority of my best friends and family would be RP born, haha). 

I think very fondly on those long Belvedere nights that you, me, Cassie and Olly or Tabby would stay up until the birds were chirping just laughing and plotting and shooting the shit. You brought an earnest joy and friendliness to the RP then, and it’s the same one you bring now, to Colony 22. Lottie and I are so grateful for your absolutely outstanding RP etiquette. You have found a remarkable balance between having the flexibility and easy-going attitude to keep the whole thing fun, and the commitment, diligence, reliability and attention to detail to keep the experience exciting, motivating and fair for everyone. 

Our friendship aside, your activity, ‘work’ ethic and RP etiquette make it impossible for me to be biased about you if I tried. While you know your limitations, you always put the feelings of others before your own. You are unfailingly considerate of your RP partners, emotionally supportive of the community, and you always, always follow through. Without fail, we know we can count on you to be there when you say you will, to communicate when you can’t be, and to approach your time and place here with enthusiasm, patience, maturity and an extraordinarily kind heart.

Thank you, Maddie, for the humble and positive attitude you have brought to this community all these years, for making Lottie and I’s jobs so much easier and enjoyable, and for helping to foster the supportive and welcoming environment in which Colony 22 so prides itself. ❤

-Love Rory & Lottie

             —-     Happy Colony 6th Anniversary      —-

[colony22graphics]

Felix just created a group chat called "Fee's Surprise Party" and then left the group. I’m feeling a lot of emotions but mostly respect.

Constantin Lupei, probably

[colony22graphics]

SUPERNATURAL AU » THE WITCH AND THE FARMBOY

Constantin Lupei, a talented and hard-working engineer, was so close to fulfilling his lifelong dream of being part of the team to send the first manned mission into space. Of course, any good beginning takes a bad turn, and Constantin found himself having to drop everything and return home with the sudden death of his father. 

Years spent studying science and an overtly logical mind meant that Costin had completely forgotten the stories — and warnings — he’d been given as a young boy. The tales of spectres and witches in the woods waiting to fatten up wayward children and turn them into stew were nought but hazy memories. If he remembered then maybe he would’ve been warier at the beautiful stranger, Koda Payne, that sat next to him one late evening in a small café that overlooked the nearby forest.

Maybe if he’d listened, if he’d remembered the old magic of the woods he’d have been ready for the witch.

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The Colony + Next Gen Textposts

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CROSSOVER AU // ALIENXCOL22

…// static

RIPLEY: [unintelligible] me? Hello?

LUPEI: Space Station 22 reads you. [unintelligible] situation?

RIPLEY: Status report from the Nostromo. My name is Lieutenant Ripley, I am the last survivor. We received [unintelligible] origin, the creature cannot be stopped. Do not, I repeat do not make contact with the Nostromo. [Unintelligible] meteors may have been caused by – [static] 

LUPEI: Lieutenant, stay on line vith me. I report in vith the Chancellor and ve organise rescue mission.

RIPLEY: [Unintelligible.] –them! Under no circumstances – shit. [The line drops.]

COMING SOON, TO A THEATRE NEAR YOU: After asteroids scorched the earth and humanity was forced to shelter in space stations clustered beyond the atmosphere, several recon missions were sent in search of habitable planets. After comms officer Constantin receives a worrying, garbled transmission from the recon vessel, the Nostromo, he reports in with the shadowy government overseeing the fleet of Colonies. He is told in no uncertain terms not to pursue the transmission, but he follows his heart, commandeers a small vessel, and sets out in search of the mysterious Lieutenant Ripley. Together, they will face a threat even more terrifying than asteroids.

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PYLADES: I’ll take care of you ORESTES: It’s rotten work PYLADES: Not to me Not if it’s you