CorporationActive
[GOUGE] Irrational Decisions
1 membersTax 10%Founded in 2015
- Kills
- 199
- +0 in the last 90 days
- Losses
- 136
- +0 in the last 90 days
- Efficiency
- ISK Efficiency 32%
- ISK destroyed
- 23.32B
- +0 in the last 90 days
- Activity
- Inactive
- 0 kills/day · last 90 days
Combat Record
Career-long numbers from eve-kill
Combat
- Kills
- 199
- Losses
- 136
- Danger Ratio
- 99%
- Final Blows
- 86
- Points
- 199
ISK
- Destroyed
- 23.32B
- Lost
- 49.58B
- Balance
- -26.27B
- ISK Efficiency
- 32%
Solo
- Solo Kills
- 37
- Solo Ratio
- 19%
- Avg Kills/Day
- —
Other
- NPC Losses
- 1
- NPC Loss Ratio
- 1%
- Activity
- Inactive
Activity
What the corporation flies, where it fights, 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.
Battles
Engagements in the selected window, from our own killmail archive
Description
Mother looked at the shiny missiles in her hands and felt aroused.
She walked over to the window and reflected on her cold surroundings. She had always loved bloody New Eden with its empty, elated emptiness. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel aroused.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Father. Father was a lactating angel with warm legs and silky fingers.
Mother gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a lovely, brutal, Quafe drinker with wrinkly legs and weathered fingers. Her friends saw her as a graceful, gleaming goat. Once, she had even jumped into a river and saved a fragile simpleton.
But not even a lovely person who had once jumped into a river and saved a fragile simpleton, was prepared for what Father had in store today.
The sunny teased like flying dogs, making Mother satisfed.
As Mother stepped outside and Father came closer, she could see the powerful smile on his face.
"I am here because I want peace," Father bellowed, in a controlling tone. He slammed his fist against Mother's chest, with the force of 90 fedo. "I frigging hate you, Mother ."
Mother looked back, even more satisfed and still fingering the shiny missiles. "Father, that wasn't my cheese," she replied.
They looked at each other with confused feelings, like two curious, crazy cats shooting at a very religious reunion, which had jazz music playing in the background and two sterile uncles screaming to the beat.
Mother studied Father's warm legs and silky fingers. Eventually, she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you peace," she explained, in pitying tones.
Father looked determined, his body raw like a spluttering, slippery slave.
Mother could actually hear Father's body shatter into 9902 pieces. Then the lactating angel hurried away into the distance.
Not even a drink of Quafe would calm Mother's nerves tonight.
She walked over to the window and reflected on her cold surroundings. She had always loved bloody New Eden with its empty, elated emptiness. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel aroused.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Father. Father was a lactating angel with warm legs and silky fingers.
Mother gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a lovely, brutal, Quafe drinker with wrinkly legs and weathered fingers. Her friends saw her as a graceful, gleaming goat. Once, she had even jumped into a river and saved a fragile simpleton.
But not even a lovely person who had once jumped into a river and saved a fragile simpleton, was prepared for what Father had in store today.
The sunny teased like flying dogs, making Mother satisfed.
As Mother stepped outside and Father came closer, she could see the powerful smile on his face.
"I am here because I want peace," Father bellowed, in a controlling tone. He slammed his fist against Mother's chest, with the force of 90 fedo. "I frigging hate you, Mother ."
Mother looked back, even more satisfed and still fingering the shiny missiles. "Father, that wasn't my cheese," she replied.
They looked at each other with confused feelings, like two curious, crazy cats shooting at a very religious reunion, which had jazz music playing in the background and two sterile uncles screaming to the beat.
Mother studied Father's warm legs and silky fingers. Eventually, she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you peace," she explained, in pitying tones.
Father looked determined, his body raw like a spluttering, slippery slave.
Mother could actually hear Father's body shatter into 9902 pieces. Then the lactating angel hurried away into the distance.
Not even a drink of Quafe would calm Mother's nerves tonight.