- Kill
- 13
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Perdite
- 29
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Efficienza
- Efficienza ISK 3%
- ISK distrutti
- 153.0M
- +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
- 13
- Perdite
- 29
- Indice di pericolo
- 97%
- Colpi finali
- 0
- Punti
- 13
ISK
- Distrutti
- 153.0M
- Persi
- 4.96B
- Bilancio
- -4.80B
- Efficienza ISK
- 3%
Solo
- Kill in solo
- 0
- Percentuale solo
- 0%
- Kill medie/giorno
- —
Altro
- Perdite contro NPC
- 1
- Quota perdite NPC
- 3%
- Attività
- Inattivo
Danni inflitti176.4K
Rapporto danni · 40%
Danni subiti264.2K
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
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.