Introducing Foosball(33)
((I first posted this on the House Of Black Star fourms, on Feb 20th 06. Since then I've been doing more and more RP, and thought I should post it here, for those that I am running into and don't know me. I would have posted this sooner but I've only recently got granted posting access to this messageboard. Don't know what the problem and don't care.And the other thing is I'm lazy.
Ok so here is Foosball’s back story or a least part of it. I was going to put so more down, but the story on how Foos comes to Rubi-Ka ended up being a lot longer then I thought it would be. But that happens a lot when I write. But I do have more to come, like my time on noob island, to even more recent events like the kidnapping of a young engi in Reet’s Retreat by the Legionaries.
Anyway I still new to RP and AO, so if there are any problems with my story so far, please feel free to PM me and let me know. Well see you ingame.
Foosball33
*The name is suppost to be Foosball the 33rd, I so wish I didn't put the number at the end of my name, but oh well. But most just call me Foos. I have something in mind for the name but that will come later, maybe))
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So here I am sitting in reclaim, waiting for my body to catch up with my mind. I hate waiting to heal up, but I guess it’s better than dying.
Maybe it’s the boredom of just sitting here; maybe it’s for prosperity, maybe it’s because recent events have me a little scared one day I might not end up in reclaim and I don’t want to be forgotten.
So here I sit with the proverbial pen and paper to tell my tale. My only hope is someday it will be read, and someone will care just a little that I was here and I lived.
I guess I’ll start at the beginning, but I’m not really one for beginnings and endings. I lived and I died, the middle is I guess what’s important. It’s what people do in between that makes all the difference. Well at least that is how I see it.
I should write a little something about how I came to Rubi-ka, so here it goes.
Life for me didn’t begin on Rubi-ka, it began in the stars. I lived with my father abroad his trading ship, flying from planet to planet, space station to space station, and all ports in between. As for my mother she died when I was young, shortly after the birth of my baby brother. My father made sure his boys were well taken care of and loved, which is maybe why I don’t miss my mother so, or maybe it’s I just really can’t remember her. A few years later my aunt and uncle (on my mother’s side) gave me and my brother an offer to live with them on a space station. They had (and still have) wealth and could provide a nice life for me and my brother. From what I understand they couldn’t have children of their own and wanted badly to share their life, even if was with the pitter patter of somewhat little feet. And I know my aunt wanted something of her sister’s, whom she missed so badly.
I’m going to say this offer came when I was nine years old, so my brother would have been five. It’s funny I really can’t remember for sure, but its close enough. For me I wanted nothing to do with the idea, at the time I loved flying around in space, going from place to place seeing and learning new things, sitting on my father’s lap as he piloted the ship. As for my brother he jumped at the chance. I know it was hard for him to leave me and my father at such a young age. And to this day I know there are some that disagree with my father’s decision to let him go. But even at such a young age, my brother new one thing very well, he hated life aboard a starship. I knew it, and my father knew it too. My father use to say, “Some people are made to travel always being too restless to stay in one place for a long time, others need to find a place to make their home, everyone needs to live the adventure of their life in their own way”. For my brother his adventure was calling him to live on a space station, a stationary place to call his home. Dad and I, we were made to travel, or at least I was at the time.
I’d like to say my life was tough, to tell some tale of woe to make my story more interesting. As I’ve found people do like a good tale of hardship to help them pass the time. But I can’t live for me growing up was great. I got to see and learn a great deal, and enjoyed my life with my dad. Considering the older I got the less I became I father’s son, the more I became my father’s second. That is not to say my father ever stopped becoming my parent, it couldn’t be less the case. He was always my father, no matter what my job was, he was always my father. Don’t get me wrong, my father could be a hardnosed “sonofabitch”, but there was never a moment were I didn’t know my father would give up everything he had for me, or my brother. I guess it was my role aboard the ship, among the crew, is what changed. It’s funny when I think about it; there I was a young teen giving orders to men far my age, experience, and knowledge; however, there was never a time when those men and women looked down on me. I guess in the end we all knew whatever my commands where, they were really my father’s. It was his ship, and I was just carrying out his will. For the most part just about everyone my father ever hired to fly with us, was more than willing to teach me something of their trade, or at least impart some wisdom on to me from their travels. And I tried to soak up as much as I could. So a long with being my father’s second, I became his “jack-of-all trades”. Granted I could never heal as well as a good Doc could, but I could stitch up some minor wounds. And maybe I was even as tough as some of the enforcers my dad had in his employ, but I could stand my ground, and knew my way around a gun. My father always would say, “Everyone needs to know at least three things in life, how to cook, how to heal, and how to kill. All three can save yours or someone’s life.” There were many other things my father would say a person needed to learn, but those were the big three.
So life among the stars was good for me, but as I got older (sometime in my late teens) I grew tired of flying from place to place and I started to long for a more stationary life. Now the offer to live with my aunt and uncle was still good, and is still good to this day. But living a posh life on a shinny platform in space doesn’t trill me. Maybe I’ve seen and done too much, but my brother’s life would drive me insane. Not that I think it’s a bad life, it’s just not for me. My brother probably feels the same for my life. Either way, we all have are callings. But as restless I grew to make a new life, I kept it to myself. I still wasn’t ready to leave my father’s side. I think my father new, but he never brought it up, and I never made it a point to show displeasure with my life. “Sometimes ya gotta do what ya gotta do” another of my father’s favorite sayings. At that time my “gotta do” was serving by my father’s side.
It was just after my twenty-second birthday, dad had become ill. At first we didn’t think much of it, it’s not like we didn’t know sickness ever, but after a few months and he not getting any better I knew something was wrong. Of course he did his best to play it off, stubborn pain in the ass that he was. But more and more, he couldn’t captain, and I was left in charge. After about 6 months of his taking sick, we decided it was time to stop the travel and head for a more permanent port. So we said goodbye to our crew, and head for the station where our family lived. I stayed with my aunt and uncle, my father’s ship in dock, and dad at the hospital. Another 6 months later, my father died in his hospital bed. Some say it was the staying still that killed my father, but I know has he known his time was up, and there was nothing anyone could do. Another of my father’s saying was, “As great as our medical advance have come, and as long as we can make ourselves live, in the end we all move on. In the end we all die and there’s not much anyone can do when your time comes.”
So with my father’s death, came a great many questions. First was what to do with his ship. Since neither I nor my brother wanted it. He was happy with his life and wanted no part to be a starship captain, and I felt it was time for me to make a new life. So I made the decision, with the backing of my brother, to send the ship off with my father. After pulling a few strings we had everything in place for my father’s final send off. We put his body in his captain’s chair, autoed the ship out into space and had it vaporized out of the sky.
So with my father and his ship taken care of, it was now time for me to make my decision on what I wanted to do. I spent a few more weeks aboard the station with my brother. It was good to spend time with him, to breathe the same air as him, instead of talking over a vidscreen. But I knew it was time for me to move on, and find my adventure. I got word of a transport heading to Rubi-ka, and decided that was the place for me to make my new life.
Now I’ve been to this planet many times before, and I knew of all the troubles, and maybe that’s what attracted me here. Maybe I am a fool, as many would think only a fool would want to set down in a place with constant fighting between factions and alien attacks.
But maybe, just maybe, it’s in a place like this where a man, like me, can stay just under the radar and find the life that I want to live. Or maybe I just read too many stories from old earth about the Wild West, and that is what brought me here.
Either way, Rubi-ka is now the dirt I call home.
Well I feel my body as its gets stronger so I’m going to put a stop to my writing for now, and wait for another day to tell a story on why I’m sitting in reclaim in the first place.
Nice read!))
Originally Posted by Raggy
