- Kills
- 13
- +0 in the last 90 days
- Losses
- 29
- +0 in the last 90 days
- Efficiency
- ISK Efficiency 3%
- ISK destroyed
- 153.0M
- +0 in the last 90 days
- Activity
- Inactive
- 0 kills/day · last 90 days
Combat Record
Career-long numbers from eve-kill
Combat
- Kills
- 13
- Losses
- 29
- Danger Ratio
- 97%
- Final Blows
- 0
- Points
- 13
ISK
- Destroyed
- 153.0M
- Lost
- 4.96B
- Balance
- -4.80B
- ISK Efficiency
- 3%
Solo
- Solo Kills
- 0
- Solo Ratio
- 0%
- Avg Kills/Day
- —
Other
- NPC Losses
- 1
- NPC Loss Ratio
- 3%
- Activity
- Inactive
Damage Dealt176.4K
Damage Ratio · 40%
Damage Taken264.2K
Activity
What they fly, where they fight, latest kills and losses
Most Valuable
The priciest kills in the window
Matchups
Who they kill, who kills them, what they lose
Last 90d
Killed
Killed By
Hulls LostLosses broken down by hull class.
In-game bio
One time, I caught a fly w/ chopsticks.
***
The Universe: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack
by Tracy K. Smith
The first track still almost swings. High hat and snare, even
A few bars of sax the stratoshpere will singe-out soon enough.
Synthesized strings. Then something like cellophane
Breaking in as if snagged to a shoe. Crinkle and drag. White noise,
Black noise. What must be voices bob up, then drop, like metal shavings
in molassess. So much for us. So much for the flags we bored
Into planets dry as chalk, for the tin cans we filled with fire
And rode like cowboys into all we tried to tame. LISTEN:
The dark we've only ever imagined now audible, thrumming,
Marbled with static like gristly meat. A chorus of engines churns.
Silence taunts: a dare. Everything that disappears
Disappears as if returning somewhere.
***
The Universe: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack
by Tracy K. Smith
The first track still almost swings. High hat and snare, even
A few bars of sax the stratoshpere will singe-out soon enough.
Synthesized strings. Then something like cellophane
Breaking in as if snagged to a shoe. Crinkle and drag. White noise,
Black noise. What must be voices bob up, then drop, like metal shavings
in molassess. So much for us. So much for the flags we bored
Into planets dry as chalk, for the tin cans we filled with fire
And rode like cowboys into all we tried to tame. LISTEN:
The dark we've only ever imagined now audible, thrumming,
Marbled with static like gristly meat. A chorus of engines churns.
Silence taunts: a dare. Everything that disappears
Disappears as if returning somewhere.