Jo Mcde, your application is accepted, with some reservations. It goes without saying that your former title is meaningless. It holds no weight among us, and will be considered forfeit by the Crown that granted it. You may continue to style yourself as a knight, if you wish; we only care that you can do your job.
Mister Trevan, we accept your application. Your technical skills and prior contributions to our cause have been noted. We are glad to have you formally join us in the fight for freedom.
Welcome to the Assembly!
Report to PRF headquarters on Arranmore Base to get your first tasks.
Name
- Anya O'Neill | Áine Ó Néill Age
- 34 Origin
- Liberty Born Bretonian/Molly Background
- Coming from a Liberty based corporate family that originally hailed from the first Bretonian colony ships, her ancestors having betrayed both their Molly origin long before Sol was won by the Coalition, and then a second time betraying the very nation they sided with for a sweeter deal, Anya is keeping up the time honored tradition of the O'Neill line. Betrayal and treachery: Though now, she believes this a long overdue correction back to the side of the righteous cause. Of course, she does not make this public, and instead operates in secret as a supporter of the Mollys, Unioners, Coalition, and Red Hessians. She uses her front company, Red Stag Shipping, to conduct trade and assist in the logistics of the various revolutionary forces to ensure everything is running smoothly, and goods get to where they need to be. Though she works for all sorts, for the sake of accruing capital she can then funnel into the revolutionary cause, her military vessels are sworn to the cause of Molly independence and the destruction of the Bretonian house first and foremost. Thus she wishes to obtain full, if discrete, membership and recognition among the ranks of her brothers and sisters so that she might better fulfill her personal commitments to the cause.
Anya is well versed in the world of scum and decadence alike; she may be a black sheep in the corporate spheres of Bretonia and Liberty but she possesses enough social capital and connections to obtain audiences where useful. She also has a great deal of experience in moving illicit goods and tidying up the books to ensure discrete and efficient shipping of goods of all sorts. Due to this dual-life nature, she can use her company to act as a spying entity from within the Bretonia itself, possibly aiming to get contracts with the Bretonian military and other state organs in order to exploit the access for Molly gains.
OOC Expectation
- I'm very new so it's hard to say exactly what I'll end up doing besides what I mentioned, lots of logistics and RP, but I'd love to learn pvp in a bomber/heavy fighter class ship! Anything I can do to help and rp along the way is good fun for me. OOC Comments
- I'm new like I said, but I really appreciate being considered despite that! Hope to see yall in space!
Name
- Peter O'Donelly Age
- Too much Origin
- Leeds, Bretonia Background
- Born and raised on Leeds. Since I was 18 I was working for BMM as a miner pilot. Let's just say that as I am getting older, I am finding it more difficult to agree with their policies as well as those of the crown, especially post war. Decided to give it all up and come to Dublin after having a talk with a very spirited Molly at Trafalgar. I am sure my mining experience can be of benefit to the cause.
OOC Expectation
- Mining, Roleplay, PvP, Snub Piloting, Capital Piloting, pretty much all of it, but mostly mining and RP OOC Comments
- Nothing really
Mister O'Donelly, your application is accepted. Many of us started the same way you did, and like you, have seen through the lies of the system built to exploit us.
Welcome to the Assembly!
Find our ship, the Rhodri Yarwood, out in Dublin and we'll get you sorted with a spot in our fleet.
Name
- Ceoladh Age
- 37 Origin
- Born in Dublin, grew up in Leeds Background
- I grew up as a sole trader, doing whatever I could to keep my head above the proverbial waters.
Life was tough but I thrived in adversity. That was until my best friend was taken from me by a local Bretonnian officer in a case of mistaken identity. Apparently due to our family names coming from Dublin we were mistaken for Molly 'terrorists'
After a painful funeral and a narrow escape back to Dublin I decided I would join the Molly's.
If I was going to be oppressed as a Molly, I may as well be one. At least then I would have people to turn to when things got rough.
OOC Expectation
- Taking the fight to the authorities that took my friend from me and protecting the people of Dublin. Piloting, running missions. Anything for the cause! OOC Comments
- Freeeeeeedom!!!!.
Miss Ceoladh, your application has been approved. Your story is a familiar one, thrown into a category of people without your own permission and then treated as lesser for being a part of this fabricated out-group. Typical Crownie tricks, designed to belittle their citizens into submission. You've made the right choice.
Welcome to the Assembly! Welcome to Freedom.
Report to the PRF Headquarters on Arranmore Base in Dublin and we'll see to it you're appropriately outfitted for vengeance.
Name
- Sean O'Deoirain Age
- 25 Origin
- Planet Leeds, Bretonia Background
- A pleasure, RPA. I'm Sean. I was born in 811 on Planet Leeds around Quadrant Kingston, and if my memory serves me well, I reckon it was in the old Megacomplex at A17. Of course, it's all gone now, so it doesn't even bloody matter now, does it. I won't bore you with the usual sob story of the poor boy from Leeds who nearly choked to death on those good smog fumes while growing up, or how I had to endure the famine caused by the assault led by the Gauls back when they chimed in to snatch a wee bit of Slog Heaven for themselves, or when the Glassing happened. All that mattered from that time is that we starved, everyone starved. And I think I was roughly, let's see, fourteen or so when shite got so bad we all had to flee Leeds. Me and me family were all lucky enough, though. We managed to make it all the way to New London, thanks to me dad's family friend connections.
We bounced back from this pretty quickly, but I got something that most of us that survived Leeds gained: some craftiness that most people just dunnae have. And while I could have made meself some deals to skimp out on work and get some quick and easy money, me dad forced me to strictly make a good and clean living out of my life, forcing me to work as an honest to God labourer for BMM during the Great Reconstruction in the bigger construction sites, like, say, Picadilly City, or King's Square. Yeah, needless to say, all that "honest working" I did for entire years doesn't really help your mental state when your own employees treat you like some bloody streetcleaner bot for 14 hour shifts every single day. It made me bloody furious to not be in control of my own bloody life after having it back. It made me furious that I had to endure starvation and terror for years, only to be met with this level of absolute mediocrity and shittiness. I was mad. I had the kind of rage you just couldn't quench at the bottom of a whole bottle.
There was this one day though, when I had to break some rocks during our demolition works with me cuttin' tool, and I thought to meself, "Hey, I've got a brilliant idea. Why don't I smash my asshole boss's mug instead of these rocks. What am I even doing here?" And so, I walked up to me LEAST favourite foreman's office who had been abusing us for years by that point, and stuck 'im on the wall with me nail tool, like a brand new painting affixed with all the others. Naturally, the coppers went after me for crucifying a BMM official, so I did a runner like the little shitty git that I was. No going back from any of that, I thought.
For around a month or so after this, I was completely homeless, as I didn't want to get me fam' in danger by presenting myself to the law. I lived quite literally like a rat, until I've found out about you lot, who love to toss bombs around and lob insults at the law. So, here I am, sending you this message, hoping that you'll decide to come and pick me up from New London. If I get to disrupt or become a headache to BMM once more and save more workers from turning into me, I'll be the happiest man in all of Sirius. If ye all need someone who knows how to set some charges and detonate them, I'm your lad, as there is nothin' I cannae handle.
Seriously, though. I've got nowhere else to go, and I'm starting to feel a wee ill from always eating garbage and leftovers from the waste disposal bins in the back alleys of the many restaurants I have visited, so I would be really really happy if you could just let me in. I don't know anything about what it is like to be an outlaw, but I'm so willing to learn and explode things while doing it.
OOC Expectation
- Realistically, logging once a month with you guys to kill BAF whenever they also decide to log, but I also wouldn't mind being outside Bretonia's borders doing whacky shenanigans with other factions, or otherwise doing boring Wildcat runs for the nth time, and hopefully along with you guys for a change. I've always found your roleplay to be pretty fun, and I wonder if there can be some potential roleplay synergy with these modern factions that popped up recently. Also, I'm doing this for my GOAT Lumi whom I'm in severe debt with lmao. OOC Comments
- meow meow meow mrrp mrrp meoooow morowoorrjogriuhjifdgjuhijhogdffgdgdfoisuhjgdfijohoijgdfdfdfgdfgpenispenispenis
Mister O'Deoirain, your application has been accepted, pending extraction.
Welcome to the Assembly!
The FDSC have a vessel enroute, due to arrive at Croyton Residential District, Terminal 3, Bay 12, by 19:45 Sirian Time.
You can collect your pre-paid ticket from any flight bookings terminal, using Bretonian Airways booking code #NLC409183M.
If anyone asks, Mister David Shaw, you're on a domestic flight to Belvedere Refinery. You've received a work permit with the ALG, all correspondence has already been forwarded ahead of time. Mister Shaw has already paid the appropriate dues with the Bretonian Authorities. Your ticket will corroborate this story.
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