Post by Cayle Quinnland on Dec 22, 2021 5:36:38 GMT
Physical Description
Name: Cayle Stephen Quinnland
Species: Trill-Human hybrid
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Height: 170cm
Weight: 70kg
Build/Body Type: Endurance runner
Complexion: Tanned
Hair Color: Light brown
Hair Style: Short always seeming to be in need of a brushing
Eye Color: Blue
Voice (optional): A little raspy, result from an old sports injury
Off-Duty Clothing Preferences: Casual; love for quarter-zip shirts and vests.
Distinguishing Features: Spots are fairly faint, but still visible
Face Claim: Jamie Bell
Character Image: i.guim.co.uk/img/media/c93213bf712af821ebdcec2054eb43b0df6fb1d0/112_126_4547_2728/master/4547.jpg?width=620&quality=45&auto=format&fit=max&dpr=2&s=9d3a99dc4def689961c8564a2db4a259
Avatar assistance would be greatly appreciated, please.
Personal History
Early Life/Pre-Starfleet Career: Where there is trade, there are delegations and factors, and that was how Verza Ritnel and Sarah Quinnland met on Teltin IV. He was a tramp freighter captain who wound up stuck there for a matter of months between refits and some matters needing to be cleared up, and she was on the staff of the Federation trade factor at the orbital docks. The rest, was fairly obvious.
From their union came Cayle, who, unfortunately, did not have much of a father figure in his life. For, while Sarah was comfortable on her own, Verza needed to keep moving more often than not, for a freighter that was sitting in orbit was little more than a pit in which money was spent at nearly the same rate it was when it was transporting a cargo. Which meant that while Teltin IV was a semi-regular stop, it could easily be several months between his father’s visits.
And what happens with a half-Human, half-Trill boy without nearly enough fatherly influence? He gets into trouble. And that was quite a bit of what Cayle did. In fact, at a fairly young age he discovered a knack for flying… that is after he also discovered he had a knack for bypassing shuttle lockouts and docking clamps.
Which meant, he was in trouble a fair bit, which wound up with him being in front of a magistrate more often than anyone would have cared to. However, one of them, rather than just add to the litany of public service, stints in reform houses and threats of actual jail time once the young reprobate would reach the age of majority, came up with something else: he would provide the Cayle Quinnland, who was by no means stupid, the structure he desperately needed and by court order had him enrolled in a strict boarding school in the system which also had a corps of cadets for the system patrol service.
At first, he railed against it, as all teenagers would be wont to do. Initially, his staff despaired of him, save for one older fellow, a Starfleet veteran of the name of Pietro Contarini who had retired from Federation service and taken a reserve commission with the Teltin system patrol, explained their meaning, significance and importance to a rather lost and aimless teenager who didn’t even know he craved that kind of structure to his life. The change within Cayle started progressively, but the moment it really started he took to it like a duck to water.
His grades rose dramatically, he stopped getting into trouble, he got formal pilot training and even a shuttle operator’s license within the corps of cadets, and when he reached the age of seventeen, Starfleet Commander (Retired) Contarini mentioned that there might be a place for him in Federation service if he wanted it, saying that it might be a good place for him at least for a time, and even wrote him a letter of recommendation to attach to his application package.
Academy/Technical Academy (if Starfleet):
There really was one track for Cayle when he applied to the Academy, and that was Flight Control. He was already a qualified pilot, after all. So he tailored his course load based on such things, with his required engineering courses being geared towards propulsion and deflectors and his science background towards astrophysics, which he felt were natural matches for his choices.
And being fairly gregarious, he did make friends easily, and still managed to find ways to get himself into trouble for even with the additional structure and stress of the Academy’s workload, he was quick to realize that work and no play made for a very dull existence, and he had to do something to keep sane when he wasn’t going to be in a simulator or even at a live helm for a while. That was when he took lacrosse, more out of a need to get at least one team sports credit to his name than any real interest, and when he took a stick to the throat, the damage wasn’t enough to be truly serious but it was enough to leave him with a bit of a rasp to his voice.
He graduated in the top half of his class, nothing exceptional, but that did set him on his career path.
Previous Assignments (if applicable): Seven months as an assistant basic flight instructor at the Saturn Academy Flight Range before being offered a posting at the Front Ear.
Birthdate: 19 September 2357
Birthplace: Teltin IV colony
Marital Status & spouse name(s): Single
Siblings Names and Ages: None
Parents' Names: Father: Verza Ritnel; Mother: Sarah Quinnland
Parents' Status: Married, but apart much of the time
Other Important Relatives: None
Pets: Had a holographic pet ferret as a boy
Best Friend: Fellv Zeram, his Academy roommate in his freshman year.
Personality
Department Preference: Flight Control
Commissioned, Enlisted or Civilian: Commissioned
Reason for joining Starfleet: It was very much a natural fit; the Teltin system patrol might be a place for a pilot to spend time, but the system and its environs were a little too small for him.
Academy/Tech Majors and Interests: Flight Control, with a minor in propulsion engineering; some additional courses in deflector maintenance and astrophysics.
Hobbies: Lacrosse, running, gambling, carousing
Short-term Goals: Just getting out there, seeing the galaxy.
Long-term Goals: He’s not quite there yet.
Defining Characteristic: He finds humour in just about everything.
Sense of Humor: Pranks and practical jokes
Phobias or Fears: Being stranded anywhere
Favorite Things: Flying, especially fast and hard.
Least Favorite Things: Paperwork
Bad Habits or Vices: Gambling and carousing; he's shown up for class or duty good and hungover more than once.
Achievements (personal or professional): Turned his life around as a teenager.
Disappointments: Never really getting to know his absentee father
Illnesses: Nothing major; just a neck injury that left his voice a little raspy.
Strengths: Extremely well developed spatial sense, can effectively do flight-related math in his head
Weaknesses: Not entirely rid of his earlier wayward ways, so prone to doing fairly stupid things.
Prejudices: Absent parents. His father was a tramp freighter captain who was gone eighty percent of the time or more so he has a serious problem with parents who aren't there for their kids.
Please write a brief answer to 3 of the following (a sentence or two for each is fine):
Your character's most painful experience: Coming to realize his father would never really be there for him, no matter how much he might want it.
Your character's best or favorite experience: Learning he was actually good for something when someone took the time to actually talk to him.
Your character's most crucial experience: When he was sentenced to joining the system patrol cadet corps and to join a strict boarding school. It set him on his current path.
Who is your character's role model and why? Starfleet Commander (Retired) Pietro Contarini. The old man took a reserve commission with the Teltin system patrol and was one of cadet instructors, and he was the one to actually take the time to explain to him the actual 'why' of things rather than just the 'what' and 'how' and pretty much single-handedly gave him a future; that's a debt Cayle can only hope to pay forward at some point.
Please write a brief sample post from your character’s perspective:
"All right, buddy, you've got this," said Ensign Cayle Quinnland as he settled into the copilot's seat of the shuttle he was in. Next to him was a nervous Cadet in the process of getting his first real flight out at the Saturn Flight Range. "You've done this at least a dozen time in simulators. Pre-flight is done, we got clearance from bay control and range control, we're clear to pull out of the bay. Do this the exact same way, take us out and set us on a course for Phoebe, just like the flight plan says. Nothing complicated. Deep breath, and get us out into the black, yeah?"
The Cadet next to him was one of Starfleet Medical's, looking for a flight certification as a credit. And, frankly, the kid (really ironic, given that Cayle himself had just graduated from the Academy three months past) might not be helmsman material. It took a certain something just to take a ship out there, and even more so to make her dance in the stars. "Aye Sir, the scared Cadet replied before requesting departure clearance from bay control on the base on Mimas. Sir. That sounded weird all right... but from a Freshman Cadet, that was to be expected all right. They were still new enough they didn't really see their instructors as people yet.
It didn't take long for the traffic control officer to grant permission to depart and to give transponder and course instructions, to which the Cadet adhered religiously, and very stiffly. "Dude, Francis, relax, continued Quinnland as he even interlaced his fingers behind his head. "You're flying, that's supposed to be fun. So while we're in this shuttle, when you're talking to me, I don't want to hear one 'Aye' or one 'Sir', all right? Name's Cayle, but I guess Quinnland will do if you're not all right with first-name basis. Sounds good?"
Relaxing, that was one thing boot cadets never knew how to do just right. Quinnland knew it. Just like he knew that the key to not screwing up a cherry hop was to not stress about it. He remembered his first formal live training flight, he was stiff as a board, and it showed. That was until the flight instructor did for him the exact same thing he was doing right now. "A... all right S... Cayle," the Cadet went as he simply set on course towards another moon of Saturn for what should be a simple flight. In, one orbit, out, back to the barn. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated. Just one nice easy go at one-tenth impulse the whole time.
[
And so they went for a while, until a channel was opened. Lieutenant (JG) Vrythi Sh'kaolahr was Quinnland's boss, a primary flight instructor who was currently riding with an even more skittish Cadet on his cherry hop, and the Andorian was one who liked showing to newbies what people who knew what they were doing could do. Normally, she saved what she had in mind for other lead instructors, but once she'd seen Cayle fly, she knew she could do this with him too. =A="Shuttle Crossfield, this is Yeager. Put Ensign Quinnland on."=A=
The Cadet just looked to his instructor and co-pilot, and Cayle just hit the comms control. =A="Yeager, this is Quinnland. Let me guess, showtime?"=A=
This had become a bit of a tradition for cherry hops: the instructors showing off a little in a simulated dogfight between the two nominally anemic shuttles they were flying, pushing the craft to their limits; of course, part of the goal was the qualified pilots having some fun with it. But the other was to show the cadets learning to fly what their ships could do in trained hands. Not that most of them would become helmsmen and pilots, but it would put things into perspective, and show them that on-paper tolerances could actually be pushed some. =A="You got it. Already cleared with range control. You can open up the dance whenever you like."=A=
=A="Aye Ma'am, acknowledged. Stand by for breaking formation."=A= The jovial Ensign had just sounded actually serious as he gave his report and closed the channel. Flying was fun, but it was also a matter where mistakes meant lives. "All right Francis, do up your harness and hang on to your ass. We're about to break flight path and start dancing with the Ma'am. Now remember, this is fun, so just enjoy the ride. My ship."
As he spoke those last two words, Quinnland grinned and the Cadet gulped while fastening his harness.
This was about to get fun.
Do you have previous experience with a role-play forum? Yep.
What brought you to the Frontier? I'm already here.
Is there anything else you’d like to tell us? This is an alt of Joshua Niles and Eliska Bremmer
Name: Cayle Stephen Quinnland
Species: Trill-Human hybrid
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Height: 170cm
Weight: 70kg
Build/Body Type: Endurance runner
Complexion: Tanned
Hair Color: Light brown
Hair Style: Short always seeming to be in need of a brushing
Eye Color: Blue
Voice (optional): A little raspy, result from an old sports injury
Off-Duty Clothing Preferences: Casual; love for quarter-zip shirts and vests.
Distinguishing Features: Spots are fairly faint, but still visible
Face Claim: Jamie Bell
Character Image: i.guim.co.uk/img/media/c93213bf712af821ebdcec2054eb43b0df6fb1d0/112_126_4547_2728/master/4547.jpg?width=620&quality=45&auto=format&fit=max&dpr=2&s=9d3a99dc4def689961c8564a2db4a259
Avatar assistance would be greatly appreciated, please.
***
Personal History
Early Life/Pre-Starfleet Career: Where there is trade, there are delegations and factors, and that was how Verza Ritnel and Sarah Quinnland met on Teltin IV. He was a tramp freighter captain who wound up stuck there for a matter of months between refits and some matters needing to be cleared up, and she was on the staff of the Federation trade factor at the orbital docks. The rest, was fairly obvious.
From their union came Cayle, who, unfortunately, did not have much of a father figure in his life. For, while Sarah was comfortable on her own, Verza needed to keep moving more often than not, for a freighter that was sitting in orbit was little more than a pit in which money was spent at nearly the same rate it was when it was transporting a cargo. Which meant that while Teltin IV was a semi-regular stop, it could easily be several months between his father’s visits.
And what happens with a half-Human, half-Trill boy without nearly enough fatherly influence? He gets into trouble. And that was quite a bit of what Cayle did. In fact, at a fairly young age he discovered a knack for flying… that is after he also discovered he had a knack for bypassing shuttle lockouts and docking clamps.
Which meant, he was in trouble a fair bit, which wound up with him being in front of a magistrate more often than anyone would have cared to. However, one of them, rather than just add to the litany of public service, stints in reform houses and threats of actual jail time once the young reprobate would reach the age of majority, came up with something else: he would provide the Cayle Quinnland, who was by no means stupid, the structure he desperately needed and by court order had him enrolled in a strict boarding school in the system which also had a corps of cadets for the system patrol service.
At first, he railed against it, as all teenagers would be wont to do. Initially, his staff despaired of him, save for one older fellow, a Starfleet veteran of the name of Pietro Contarini who had retired from Federation service and taken a reserve commission with the Teltin system patrol, explained their meaning, significance and importance to a rather lost and aimless teenager who didn’t even know he craved that kind of structure to his life. The change within Cayle started progressively, but the moment it really started he took to it like a duck to water.
His grades rose dramatically, he stopped getting into trouble, he got formal pilot training and even a shuttle operator’s license within the corps of cadets, and when he reached the age of seventeen, Starfleet Commander (Retired) Contarini mentioned that there might be a place for him in Federation service if he wanted it, saying that it might be a good place for him at least for a time, and even wrote him a letter of recommendation to attach to his application package.
Academy/Technical Academy (if Starfleet):
There really was one track for Cayle when he applied to the Academy, and that was Flight Control. He was already a qualified pilot, after all. So he tailored his course load based on such things, with his required engineering courses being geared towards propulsion and deflectors and his science background towards astrophysics, which he felt were natural matches for his choices.
And being fairly gregarious, he did make friends easily, and still managed to find ways to get himself into trouble for even with the additional structure and stress of the Academy’s workload, he was quick to realize that work and no play made for a very dull existence, and he had to do something to keep sane when he wasn’t going to be in a simulator or even at a live helm for a while. That was when he took lacrosse, more out of a need to get at least one team sports credit to his name than any real interest, and when he took a stick to the throat, the damage wasn’t enough to be truly serious but it was enough to leave him with a bit of a rasp to his voice.
He graduated in the top half of his class, nothing exceptional, but that did set him on his career path.
Previous Assignments (if applicable): Seven months as an assistant basic flight instructor at the Saturn Academy Flight Range before being offered a posting at the Front Ear.
Birthdate: 19 September 2357
Birthplace: Teltin IV colony
Marital Status & spouse name(s): Single
Siblings Names and Ages: None
Parents' Names: Father: Verza Ritnel; Mother: Sarah Quinnland
Parents' Status: Married, but apart much of the time
Other Important Relatives: None
Pets: Had a holographic pet ferret as a boy
Best Friend: Fellv Zeram, his Academy roommate in his freshman year.
***
Personality
Department Preference: Flight Control
Commissioned, Enlisted or Civilian: Commissioned
Reason for joining Starfleet: It was very much a natural fit; the Teltin system patrol might be a place for a pilot to spend time, but the system and its environs were a little too small for him.
Academy/Tech Majors and Interests: Flight Control, with a minor in propulsion engineering; some additional courses in deflector maintenance and astrophysics.
Hobbies: Lacrosse, running, gambling, carousing
Short-term Goals: Just getting out there, seeing the galaxy.
Long-term Goals: He’s not quite there yet.
Defining Characteristic: He finds humour in just about everything.
Sense of Humor: Pranks and practical jokes
Phobias or Fears: Being stranded anywhere
Favorite Things: Flying, especially fast and hard.
Least Favorite Things: Paperwork
Bad Habits or Vices: Gambling and carousing; he's shown up for class or duty good and hungover more than once.
Achievements (personal or professional): Turned his life around as a teenager.
Disappointments: Never really getting to know his absentee father
Illnesses: Nothing major; just a neck injury that left his voice a little raspy.
Strengths: Extremely well developed spatial sense, can effectively do flight-related math in his head
Weaknesses: Not entirely rid of his earlier wayward ways, so prone to doing fairly stupid things.
Prejudices: Absent parents. His father was a tramp freighter captain who was gone eighty percent of the time or more so he has a serious problem with parents who aren't there for their kids.
***
Please write a brief answer to 3 of the following (a sentence or two for each is fine):
Your character's most painful experience: Coming to realize his father would never really be there for him, no matter how much he might want it.
Your character's best or favorite experience: Learning he was actually good for something when someone took the time to actually talk to him.
Your character's most crucial experience: When he was sentenced to joining the system patrol cadet corps and to join a strict boarding school. It set him on his current path.
Who is your character's role model and why? Starfleet Commander (Retired) Pietro Contarini. The old man took a reserve commission with the Teltin system patrol and was one of cadet instructors, and he was the one to actually take the time to explain to him the actual 'why' of things rather than just the 'what' and 'how' and pretty much single-handedly gave him a future; that's a debt Cayle can only hope to pay forward at some point.
Please write a brief sample post from your character’s perspective:
"All right, buddy, you've got this," said Ensign Cayle Quinnland as he settled into the copilot's seat of the shuttle he was in. Next to him was a nervous Cadet in the process of getting his first real flight out at the Saturn Flight Range. "You've done this at least a dozen time in simulators. Pre-flight is done, we got clearance from bay control and range control, we're clear to pull out of the bay. Do this the exact same way, take us out and set us on a course for Phoebe, just like the flight plan says. Nothing complicated. Deep breath, and get us out into the black, yeah?"
The Cadet next to him was one of Starfleet Medical's, looking for a flight certification as a credit. And, frankly, the kid (really ironic, given that Cayle himself had just graduated from the Academy three months past) might not be helmsman material. It took a certain something just to take a ship out there, and even more so to make her dance in the stars. "Aye Sir, the scared Cadet replied before requesting departure clearance from bay control on the base on Mimas. Sir. That sounded weird all right... but from a Freshman Cadet, that was to be expected all right. They were still new enough they didn't really see their instructors as people yet.
It didn't take long for the traffic control officer to grant permission to depart and to give transponder and course instructions, to which the Cadet adhered religiously, and very stiffly. "Dude, Francis, relax, continued Quinnland as he even interlaced his fingers behind his head. "You're flying, that's supposed to be fun. So while we're in this shuttle, when you're talking to me, I don't want to hear one 'Aye' or one 'Sir', all right? Name's Cayle, but I guess Quinnland will do if you're not all right with first-name basis. Sounds good?"
Relaxing, that was one thing boot cadets never knew how to do just right. Quinnland knew it. Just like he knew that the key to not screwing up a cherry hop was to not stress about it. He remembered his first formal live training flight, he was stiff as a board, and it showed. That was until the flight instructor did for him the exact same thing he was doing right now. "A... all right S... Cayle," the Cadet went as he simply set on course towards another moon of Saturn for what should be a simple flight. In, one orbit, out, back to the barn. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated. Just one nice easy go at one-tenth impulse the whole time.
[
And so they went for a while, until a channel was opened. Lieutenant (JG) Vrythi Sh'kaolahr was Quinnland's boss, a primary flight instructor who was currently riding with an even more skittish Cadet on his cherry hop, and the Andorian was one who liked showing to newbies what people who knew what they were doing could do. Normally, she saved what she had in mind for other lead instructors, but once she'd seen Cayle fly, she knew she could do this with him too. =A="Shuttle Crossfield, this is Yeager. Put Ensign Quinnland on."=A=
The Cadet just looked to his instructor and co-pilot, and Cayle just hit the comms control. =A="Yeager, this is Quinnland. Let me guess, showtime?"=A=
This had become a bit of a tradition for cherry hops: the instructors showing off a little in a simulated dogfight between the two nominally anemic shuttles they were flying, pushing the craft to their limits; of course, part of the goal was the qualified pilots having some fun with it. But the other was to show the cadets learning to fly what their ships could do in trained hands. Not that most of them would become helmsmen and pilots, but it would put things into perspective, and show them that on-paper tolerances could actually be pushed some. =A="You got it. Already cleared with range control. You can open up the dance whenever you like."=A=
=A="Aye Ma'am, acknowledged. Stand by for breaking formation."=A= The jovial Ensign had just sounded actually serious as he gave his report and closed the channel. Flying was fun, but it was also a matter where mistakes meant lives. "All right Francis, do up your harness and hang on to your ass. We're about to break flight path and start dancing with the Ma'am. Now remember, this is fun, so just enjoy the ride. My ship."
As he spoke those last two words, Quinnland grinned and the Cadet gulped while fastening his harness.
This was about to get fun.
***
Do you have previous experience with a role-play forum? Yep.
What brought you to the Frontier? I'm already here.
Is there anything else you’d like to tell us? This is an alt of Joshua Niles and Eliska Bremmer
