The alert read: “URGENT. ENGINEERING ASSISTANCE REQUESTED BY RUSALKI STATION.”
It wasn’t that abnormal, receiving a call for help from the Russian station orbiting Neptune. The astro- and cosmonauts had historically been left out of whatever scuffle there happened to be on the ground. If you ask me, this is probably something they’re capable of doing themselves, and they’re probably just bored and wanting to see a couple of new faces for a change. They’re way the hell out there.
That’s not to say that it couldn’t be a legitimate emergency. If it were, I’m the guy they would ask for. I can fix anything. The best engineer stationed off-planet, and it’s not really close. It’s why I’m the fixer on NASA’s Big Ship.
The Russians have one of their own, but ours was closer so we got the call. It took us about a week to make Neptune, and once we docked I suited up and headed to the airlock with three armed guards in my entourage. I hate it, but protocol demands it. The airlock doors open, then close behind me. As soon as they open into the Rusalki, I can tell something’s up.
The dossier on the mission specified a life support malfunction, but the crew here to meet us aren’t wearing spacesuits. All the hatches are open, indicating no attempt to conserve oxygen.
“Your life support system seems to have come back online, Captain Prostov,” I observe good-naturedly. When dealing with another spacer, I’m always going to give them the benefit of the doubt. The margins of error are way too slim up here for anyone to deal in bad faith.
“I’m sorry to have deceived you, Chief Engineer, but we have no one aboard qualified in micro-soldering,” she says measuredly.
“Of course not, all of your circuit boards are plug-and-play. If one breaks you just replace the whole thing. So what, did you have one go bad twice in one cycle?”
She waits for me to finish, then raises a hand, calling attention to a gunmetal gray cube she’s holding. “Our video game machine is broken. It would be months before we could get it replaced,” she explains. I smirk, depressurizing my suit and popping off the fishbowl.
“I think we can work something out.” Surely there’s a little Russian vodka stowed away somewhere.
———————
I hope this gives a bit of an introduction to the world I’m picturing for this sci-fi role. I would like this to focus on a romance between two space-farers whose home countries on the ground are at odds politically, perhaps one of the cosmonauts on this space station. I sort of went with a Cold War style Russia/USA rivalry for this example because it was simplest, but I’d be happy to play with any geopolitical landscape we can think up for this day-after-tomorrow setting.
I have some more ideas for the worldbuilding written out, but would like to work on that with whoever I’m writing. The big thing is that a second space race was brought on in the wake of World War III. Space stations, extraplanetary bases, and multi-mission spacecraft pepper the solar system. On the surface of Earth, tensions run high among the global superpowers, but those in space have been historically left out of it. I
The big ideas for my character are that he is a very talented engineer and that he comes from a long line of astronauts. Though he is still well on the younger side among those off-planet, he has spent more time in space than most ever do. I don’t have any concrete ideas for the other character except that she’s an astronaut and her country is at odds politically with the other main character’s.
Some inspirations for this role are Gregory Benford’s The Martian Race, Samantha Harvey’s Orbital, Morten Tyldum’s Passengers film, and the sort of hard science fiction, near-future vibes of Andy Weir and Edward Ashton.
A bit about me: I’m a 26-year-old man based in the Pacific time zone of North America. I work full-time, and cannot guarantee a response every day. It goes both ways, I would much rather wait for a high-quality response than read something forced out for the sake of meeting a deadline. I’ve been writing roleplays for about ten years, and I’d say the writing sample above is around the length I usually write each response, maybe a bit on the shorter side for me. When I’m really in the zone, I write a lot more than that. It tends to come out when I’m setting up a scene. I obviously wrote this one in first person, present tense, but am comfortable writing in any mode or tense. (I have a degree in English literature, so rest assured I know how to write.)
Thank you so much for reading all that, can’t wait to hear from you. :)
It wasn’t that abnormal, receiving a call for help from the Russian station orbiting Neptune. The astro- and cosmonauts had historically been left out of whatever scuffle there happened to be on the ground. If you ask me, this is probably something they’re capable of doing themselves, and they’re probably just bored and wanting to see a couple of new faces for a change. They’re way the hell out there.
That’s not to say that it couldn’t be a legitimate emergency. If it were, I’m the guy they would ask for. I can fix anything. The best engineer stationed off-planet, and it’s not really close. It’s why I’m the fixer on NASA’s Big Ship.
The Russians have one of their own, but ours was closer so we got the call. It took us about a week to make Neptune, and once we docked I suited up and headed to the airlock with three armed guards in my entourage. I hate it, but protocol demands it. The airlock doors open, then close behind me. As soon as they open into the Rusalki, I can tell something’s up.
The dossier on the mission specified a life support malfunction, but the crew here to meet us aren’t wearing spacesuits. All the hatches are open, indicating no attempt to conserve oxygen.
“Your life support system seems to have come back online, Captain Prostov,” I observe good-naturedly. When dealing with another spacer, I’m always going to give them the benefit of the doubt. The margins of error are way too slim up here for anyone to deal in bad faith.
“I’m sorry to have deceived you, Chief Engineer, but we have no one aboard qualified in micro-soldering,” she says measuredly.
“Of course not, all of your circuit boards are plug-and-play. If one breaks you just replace the whole thing. So what, did you have one go bad twice in one cycle?”
She waits for me to finish, then raises a hand, calling attention to a gunmetal gray cube she’s holding. “Our video game machine is broken. It would be months before we could get it replaced,” she explains. I smirk, depressurizing my suit and popping off the fishbowl.
“I think we can work something out.” Surely there’s a little Russian vodka stowed away somewhere.
———————
I hope this gives a bit of an introduction to the world I’m picturing for this sci-fi role. I would like this to focus on a romance between two space-farers whose home countries on the ground are at odds politically, perhaps one of the cosmonauts on this space station. I sort of went with a Cold War style Russia/USA rivalry for this example because it was simplest, but I’d be happy to play with any geopolitical landscape we can think up for this day-after-tomorrow setting.
I have some more ideas for the worldbuilding written out, but would like to work on that with whoever I’m writing. The big thing is that a second space race was brought on in the wake of World War III. Space stations, extraplanetary bases, and multi-mission spacecraft pepper the solar system. On the surface of Earth, tensions run high among the global superpowers, but those in space have been historically left out of it. I
The big ideas for my character are that he is a very talented engineer and that he comes from a long line of astronauts. Though he is still well on the younger side among those off-planet, he has spent more time in space than most ever do. I don’t have any concrete ideas for the other character except that she’s an astronaut and her country is at odds politically with the other main character’s.
Some inspirations for this role are Gregory Benford’s The Martian Race, Samantha Harvey’s Orbital, Morten Tyldum’s Passengers film, and the sort of hard science fiction, near-future vibes of Andy Weir and Edward Ashton.
A bit about me: I’m a 26-year-old man based in the Pacific time zone of North America. I work full-time, and cannot guarantee a response every day. It goes both ways, I would much rather wait for a high-quality response than read something forced out for the sake of meeting a deadline. I’ve been writing roleplays for about ten years, and I’d say the writing sample above is around the length I usually write each response, maybe a bit on the shorter side for me. When I’m really in the zone, I write a lot more than that. It tends to come out when I’m setting up a scene. I obviously wrote this one in first person, present tense, but am comfortable writing in any mode or tense. (I have a degree in English literature, so rest assured I know how to write.)
Thank you so much for reading all that, can’t wait to hear from you. :)