4.10Pilota
Amber Archasse
GallenteGallente
- Kill
- 408
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Perdite
- 141
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Efficienza
- Efficienza ISK 82%
- ISK distrutti
- 164.42B
- +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
- 408
- Perdite
- 141
- Indice di pericolo
- 88%
- Colpi finali
- 111
- Punti
- 402
ISK
- Distrutti
- 164.42B
- Persi
- 36.34B
- Bilancio
- +128.08B
- Efficienza ISK
- 82%
Solo
- Kill in solo
- 35
- Percentuale solo
- 9%
- Kill medie/giorno
- —
Altro
- Perdite contro NPC
- 17
- Quota perdite NPC
- 12%
- Attività
- Inattivo
Danni inflitti5.6M
Rapporto danni · 75%
Danni subiti1.8M
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
Ship's Log - June 13th, YC121
When the warp bridge takes hold, the stars disappear.
The cockpit, the instrument panel, even the constant thrum of Jita traffic - it all shifts off-center for a heartbeat, long enough to sense a vast architecture behind the order imposed by the living.
Dark and seething, it stretches as far as the eye can see, horrible geometries rising up, grasping and full of cruel intent. Their unholy likeness reeks of smoke and salt, and I can hear a warm susurrus as the shapes reach out to me.
Closing the viewport and burying myself in the comforter helps, but even with my head pressed against the bulkhead, I can't entirely drown out the wretched, goddamned noise.
O Lord, what hath Thou wrought, that I hear it writhing in the cold and hateful dark?
---
I am fire and heat, and at the moment of birth
Suits and computers determine my worth
I am machine washable, yet perish when worn
To live life again, like a man reborn
My cruelty parts flesh with ease and precision
And my brother takes things without asking permission
A warrior may summon me for a hero's test
Within thy home I lay to rest
For Ƶ10 million, what am I?
--
Fear of fear, the Whisper-Men,
The men the mind forgot
The melting-men, the empty town,
The petrifying rot
Whisper do the Whisper-Men,
To slow their fate they pray
First the body, then the mind
The voice and whispers stay
-Gallentean nursery rhyme
--
I'd always prided myself on efficiency. My lab operations were always under budget, with no loose ends to tidy up later. When the order came down for me to oversee [REDACTED], I wasn't really surprised. What other choice was there? Who else could have been trusted to bring back [REDACTED] exactly as it had been in life? Dr. Graham himself even begged me to take on the project.
Two years, in their entirety, went into the rebuilding: nerves grown by the cluster in humid vats; muscles and skin stretched over racks before being spread over new, white bone. The first time [REDACTED]'s heart beat on its own, the laboratory team cheered, and I smiled and shook hands with all our incredulous, delighted staff.
What fools we all were. If only we had known.
When the warp bridge takes hold, the stars disappear.
The cockpit, the instrument panel, even the constant thrum of Jita traffic - it all shifts off-center for a heartbeat, long enough to sense a vast architecture behind the order imposed by the living.
Dark and seething, it stretches as far as the eye can see, horrible geometries rising up, grasping and full of cruel intent. Their unholy likeness reeks of smoke and salt, and I can hear a warm susurrus as the shapes reach out to me.
Closing the viewport and burying myself in the comforter helps, but even with my head pressed against the bulkhead, I can't entirely drown out the wretched, goddamned noise.
O Lord, what hath Thou wrought, that I hear it writhing in the cold and hateful dark?
---
I am fire and heat, and at the moment of birth
Suits and computers determine my worth
I am machine washable, yet perish when worn
To live life again, like a man reborn
My cruelty parts flesh with ease and precision
And my brother takes things without asking permission
A warrior may summon me for a hero's test
Within thy home I lay to rest
For Ƶ10 million, what am I?
--
Fear of fear, the Whisper-Men,
The men the mind forgot
The melting-men, the empty town,
The petrifying rot
Whisper do the Whisper-Men,
To slow their fate they pray
First the body, then the mind
The voice and whispers stay
-Gallentean nursery rhyme
--
I'd always prided myself on efficiency. My lab operations were always under budget, with no loose ends to tidy up later. When the order came down for me to oversee [REDACTED], I wasn't really surprised. What other choice was there? Who else could have been trusted to bring back [REDACTED] exactly as it had been in life? Dr. Graham himself even begged me to take on the project.
Two years, in their entirety, went into the rebuilding: nerves grown by the cluster in humid vats; muscles and skin stretched over racks before being spread over new, white bone. The first time [REDACTED]'s heart beat on its own, the laboratory team cheered, and I smiled and shook hands with all our incredulous, delighted staff.
What fools we all were. If only we had known.