3.80
- Kill
- 6
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Perdite
- 30
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Efficienza
- Efficienza ISK 1%
- ISK distrutti
- 123.7M
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Attività
- Inattivo
- 0 kill/giorno · ultimi 90 giorni
Scheda di combattimento
Numeri da eve-kill, di tutta la carriera
Combattimento
- Kill
- 6
- Perdite
- 30
- Indice di pericolo
- 70%
- Colpi finali
- 5
- Punti
- 6
ISK
- Distrutti
- 123.7M
- Persi
- 10.97B
- Bilancio
- -10.85B
- Efficienza ISK
- 1%
Solo
- Kill in solo
- 0
- Percentuale solo
- 0%
- Kill medie/giorno
- —
Altro
- Perdite contro NPC
- 9
- Quota perdite NPC
- 30%
- Attività
- Inattivo
Danni inflitti7.0K
Rapporto danni · 2%
Danni subiti348.0K
Attività
Cosa vola, dove combatte, le ultime kill e perdite
I più preziosi
Le kill più costose del periodo
Chi incontra
Chi uccide, da chi viene ucciso e cosa perde
Ultimi 90g
Uccisi
Ucciso da
Scafi persiPerdite suddivise per classe di scafo.
Bio in gioco
X-Clacks-Overhead: GNU Terry Pratchett
Space Trucking
There's only one kind of music that isn't bollocks and that's trance garage hippy house metal with overtones of hip-hop snatch reggae, a brief undercurrent of dub-rap classical convertive pop in an avant-garde revival bluegrass stylee topped off with a liberal smearing in the midrange and the inclusion of massed (150+) harps. And bagpipes; many, many bagpipes.
Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get in a spaceship as soon as I can.
Space Trucking
There's only one kind of music that isn't bollocks and that's trance garage hippy house metal with overtones of hip-hop snatch reggae, a brief undercurrent of dub-rap classical convertive pop in an avant-garde revival bluegrass stylee topped off with a liberal smearing in the midrange and the inclusion of massed (150+) harps. And bagpipes; many, many bagpipes.
Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get in a spaceship as soon as I can.