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*hiss Commission for @Cheeseman

Should mention, credit goes to Drake for the portrait! They did a really good job!

Asrair's looking weird these days. But if he is happier this way, I'll gladly support him.

Rebekah Hunter - @ImmortalRedshirt

Looks so simple yet so nice. Love it

imma add an edit sayin something like that in the OP

Name: Nat Khan Age: 20 Race: Human Blood Type: O- General Occupational Roles: Civilian, Librarian Biography: Nat was born on the toxic world of Aridamus, because of the atmospheric toxicity she has worn a gas mask since before she can even remember. Her parents died a couple years after she was born and it was because of this she spent most of her childhood wondering the planet scavenging to survive. Growing up she got to know many of of the criminal trade bands and revolutionary groups that called the planet home as well. Reaching her teens she took the first chance she could to leave the planet, hopping between several SolGov colonies. Records of her after this are sparse other than a few reported arrests for a variety of crimes. After reaching the age of 20 she applied to work for Nanotrasen for reasons that are still unknown. Qualifications: None Employment Records: Her Occupation before coming to Nanotrasen is currently unknown. Security Records: Has been arrested for a multitude of crimes ranging from inciting riots and mutinies to theft of valuable items. Records state she has been known to flee whenever she feels the station is in danger implying a lack of loyalty to Nanotrasen. Medical Records: Nothing of importance other than a case of ADHD and her cybernetic heart Personnel Photo (Appearance text): 185cm, long light orange hair braided over her shoulder, always seen with a gasmask covering her face. Wears a winter coat and firefighter helmet. Commendations [only to be added by admin]: N/A Reprimands [only to be added by admin]: N/A

Good lord I am loving this thread

You need to post in admin complaint, not here.

Lately, I've had multiple people volunteer to make sprites. They're just not sure what to make. If this sounds like you, post here. Similarly, if you are a github contributor who needs sprites made for something, also post here, with a description of what you're looking for. NOTE: this thread should only be used by people making sprites, and people making PRs. DO NOT request sprites for something in the hopes that someone other than yourself will write the PR to add them.

Spriter here. Also why not make spriting channel on discord public? So PR making people who are not yet git contributors can access it and request sprites

I was chosen to cleanse the station of all Vampire corruption on this recent shift. Suffice to say, the rapid holy fists of justice helped me to slay 3 vampires so that they may never harm the crew ever again! (The other 2 died in prison):

Captain Aaron Whelen 's ID Card - @AmericanToxic

honestly if anyone wants a small portrait done for one of these give me a yell!

BWOINK Why did you attack that person?

What a year it has been. Honestly this marks around the year mark I started playing space, or at least, very close to. How the time flies, honestly, I’m astounded by how things progressed. From watching a video about a strange ‘Checkers’ guy playing an obscure, low graphics game, to becoming admin of one of the servers said games. It constantly astounds and impresses me, the amount of kindness and welcoming energy this community has. Though some things may have changed, some people have shifted here and there, that sense of gentle joy of seeing so many people interacting and crafting characters and worlds together has not gone anywhere. The art that’s been made, the stories that have been crafted, the people that have been met… it’s all just amazing. I’m not sure what I’d be doing if I hadn’t found Space Station, but likely it wouldn’t have been something that got me so many wonderful, and loving friends. Honestly. You all are some amazing people. Though there’s always a few hiccups, I’ve had an amazing year. Thank you all. Really. Here are some images that have been made for me, it’s really just an honor to have such people around me that’d… well, make anything for me, honestly! Thank you so much!

How did I miss this.

Some big art is finished, commission for @Cazdon Torque

Or..... The Pitiful Pianist Or..... Cecilia Kirkson, The character who changed SS13 forever for me. A story from my perspective not hers, but first a bit of background. I apologize in advance, for the excessive amount of expletives. Author's Note: Suicide, is not something to be taken lightly. I find that the end of a life prematurely is one of the greatest sorrows someone can inflict on themselves, and those around them. If you, or some one you love is experiencing suicidal thoughts, please do not hesitate to seek help. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, 1-800-273-TALK (8255). Trained crisis workers are available to talk 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Your confidential and toll-free call goes to the nearest crisis center in the Lifeline national network. These centers provide crisis counseling and mental health referrals. TLDR; Bored player makes literal fangirl, who becomes suicidal after unrequited love, and is foiled by half the station. Ultimately changing the game forever. Take One SS13 had begun to stale. Originally I found the game, last year, through some random youtuber, BoatBomber13 or some other nonsense. I wasn't really interested in his griefing, but the game he was playing had a strange charm to it. The be anyone, fell to the background, and the do anything nature of the game stuck in my mind. I had decided that I would at least try it. Fast forward to a few weeks ago. I decided to spice up my game with a narrative. Captain Fangirl, not a captain or named Fangirl. Someone to declare their love for the captain and mildly pester them with positive messages, eventually plunging into a heartbroken mess or winning their mutual affection. I had never stayed by the bridge before, so I was a little curious on what the captain did, other than the occasional announcement about how shit's fucked. Enter Cecilia Kirkson, our fangirl. Human, because this was a basic narrative, so a basic race. Pink Hair, long ponytail, because that screams fangirl to me. 17, to be young, naive, and impressionable. NT supportive, see naive and impressionable. I gave her a robotic heart, because of the inevitable heartbreak. I changed my mind shortly after, and gave a more noticeable robotic limb, a brand I picked at random. I had been planning on a small bit of a serenade, having just figured out instruments a few shifts earlier as a bored psychiatrist. Ian T-shirt, rainbow stockings, game on. I started the shift just after the round started. I wanted to make a t pit stop near arrivals. I went to the garden, and spent a good amount of time literally farming for cardboard. I'd needed it for the signs I had planned to make. Oddly, I learned of their existence during some protest about some demoted idol a shift or two prior. I stopped by the locker room and picked out the red evening dress and swapped the IAN - Tshirt out. It clashed, not layering well. I was just getting started. I grabbed a bunch of paper, some wire cutters, crayons, a roll of tape, and began to make a bunch of small paper hearts. I began to spread the hearts in front of the bridge, I noticed some other player building tables and gathering beer and junk food. I didn't pay them much mind, and we stayed out of each others' way. I, spreading paper hearts, and they making a lounge area. The captain made an announcement, and I typed out back "I love you!" or "You're awesome, captain!" in response. I changed her clothes in the nearby bathrooms, knowing that getting my ID stolen would make my narrative much harder, being in a high traffic zone. "Will you model for me?" A question aimed at me, leaving the bathrooms. I stopped and looked up at a blue haired (and probably bored) Barber."No, I'm good." I typed out in reflex. I'd rarely been engaged as an assistant, but I found short answers or responses would satiate most people. I weaseled my way into the courthouse and appropriated the megaphone. I made my way back to the front of the bridge. The captain was male, and human. This could work, I thought, I have my narrative. I made a few signs. 'I <3 you captain!' and 'Captain's #1 Fan.' The player by the bridge, finished their construction, and engaged in minor small talk. I made a few cardboard cutouts and colored them to fill seats. I had my signs and enough to make more, so it was an acceptable loss. I generally ignored the player who made a small lounge area, typing out empty responses as I began to pester the captain with minor affections and sign waving. The player who made the lounge even joined in, waving around one of my signs. I was being ignored. This was a setback, though not entirely unexpected. I figured the captain had much better things to do than deal with the random cheerleader/fan. I had spent a good amount of time cheer-leading, but I wasn't getting anywhere. Time to kick it up a notch, I thought. I made another sign. 'Do you love me? Y/N?'. "Miss Kirkson, that question isn't Nanotrasen appropriate." I smiled, the captain was at least aware of Cecilia's antics for the past half hour. I was asked a few times, what I was doing by passersby. "The captain won't acknowledge my feelings." I responded probably much to the captain's chagrin. I had once or twice used the megaphone to announce her love. "I heard you the first time!" The captain responded after the second announcement. After a while, a medical synthetic with a red paint job started to pass by the bridge and had shot everyone with some sort of wavy blue laser. I wasn't familiar with this particular type of synthetic and I wasn't willing to take any chances. The captain had stepped out of their office so erring on the side of caution I went to the bar, and unceremoniously went up to piano. I started to mess around, finding sad songs on one of the wikis. I played for a while, watching what looked like a date unfold nearby. "Will you model for me?" I groaned, the barber was back, and had been hanging out in the bar asking for models. I turned them down once again, and continued with my playing. I picked out 'Let Her Go' by Passenger, my cheeky way of acknowledging the couple. To my bemusement, and pleasant surprise, the barber and a few others started to react and sing along to the music. "Can I get you something to drink?" The purple haired bartender asked. Another person engaged with her, but I dismissed it, bartender was just doing their job. "Something non-alcoholic." I typed out, thanking the bartender after receiving the milkshake. The crimson medbot came into the bar, and hit everyone with the healing beam. "You can't just fix a broken heart." I typed out, unable to hit enter before the bot left. Whatever, I thought and continued to play. "You mentioned a broken heart, you want to talk about that?" What? Again, the bartender was engaging with her. This random assistant, playing some music, keeping to herself, was a magnet for some reason. I was taken aback and scrambled to reply. "Something like that, but I don't want to discuss it." I once again turned back to the music. "Do you enjoy playing?" The purple haired bartender, Jill Stingray, asked. What the hell? I thought. This bartender must be bored out of their minds. I paused a moment in contemplation. "Hrm. I wouldn't say I like it, so much as it a part of who I am." I chuckled to myself. Might as well give her and her robotic limb a little meaning. "I was made to practice piano, as a way of learning how to control my new arm." I continued. "By your parents?" Jill asked. "By my mother." I typed out. That's enough, I thought. While I could ad-lib a rough backstory on the spot, it would be increasingly difficult to keep going. "Can I have a something strong to drink, please?" I asked. "Sure." Jill responded. "Oh, by the way, may I have the russian revolver?" I asked. "Oh, I threw it out a while ago." Jill said placing a drink on the counter. "Why do you want it, anyways?" I didn't answer and left after quickly downing the drink. A setback, with no revolver I couldn't end her life as dramatically nor as quickly as I had hoped. Near the bathrooms I found a the items to make a spear, any weapon would have to do at this point. I made one final sign. 'Goodbye captain, I love you." Sign in hand, I made my way back to the bridge, ready to put an end to this narrative. The captain was still out. Whatever I thought, I didn't know when the captain would be back, and the round had gone on long enough for a shift transfer to begin soon. I took the spear, made sure chest was targeted, changed my intent, and began clicking. She fell down, dropping her spear and now bloody sign. The red med bot floated nearby, and I looked at her health doll. Full health. I picked up the spear and tried again. A blue wavy line, and I was back where I started. Another setback. I sighed and started to ponder quicker ways to end this shift. "Don't do it Cecilia!?" The blue haired barber was back and approaching. They had apparently been paying attention in the bar, and was there at bridge trying to talk her down. I am stunned at this point. "Just let me die." I scrambled to type, before starting to flee. Another setback, I thought, ignoring the pleas from the barber. I dashed through the station stopping only to repeat. "Just let me die." It shouldn't be this hard to die. I grumbled, having died countless times as nameless characters to murderous maint. crawlers, carelessness, failed infiltration, other players, etc. Fuck, I muttered. I got cornered in the dormitories. I suck at combat, and I didn't want to harm the other player. Panicking I jumped into a disposal. Trash character, trash ending. I thought. It wasn't the end to the narrative I wanted, but it seemed fitting enough. Protip: Resting allows you to get past any flaps cargo might set up. Now in disposals, the conveyor belt was on, and I was stuck in a pile of garbage. I made the mistake of right clicking, and my client crashed from the huge stack of garbage times I was standing it. I quickly booted back into the game. Phew. I was still in disposals, but still stuck. There were no screwdrivers for me to remove the glass, press the button and get launched into space. "Cecilia don't do it! It's not worth it." The blue haired barber was back. What the hell is up with their persistence?! Are they that bored? Now they were stuck with me, and we struggled back in forth. I kept trying to put myself ready to be launched, and they kept trying to get her out. Eventually it got the point that we were both pressed by the glass. Another player arrived on scene, reporting over the common channel that some sort of lovers' quarrel had broken out in disposals. Tch. Don't lump me in with them! They turned off the conveyor belt, and I now struggled, fighting off two players. The barber trying to save her, and the other player turning off the conveyor belt, making it much harder for me to stay in disposals. "Just let me die!" I repeated in growing desperation. I was beginning to break. I couldn't keep this going for much longer. I numbed myself, it's almost over. I thought. I'm so close. Another character arrived on scene. I've lost. I thought, until they knocked the barber down. I got back in disposals, and yelled. "Push the button!" Just like that, it was over. Cecilia was flung into space. I relaxed in my chair. It was over. All I had to do, was wait until she died, alone, in void. I listened to the music play as she floated among the garbage. Just a few more moments, I can put this whole thing to bed. I wasn't sure if I'd be back to the game. It got too intense for me, too real. I relaxed my shaking hands flat on my lap, and waited. Wait, what is that? A crate on the side of some other station. Unconscious, but not quite dead, she bumped into, and began to float back to the station. What?! No matter, I quickly recovered from my weary shock. She'll be dead, and I'm done. By the time she made it back to the station, she was alive, but in critical condition. Only a few second more. They won't be able to get to me outside of... What?! Why was the door open? I watched in surreal horror, as the fucking blue haired barber grabbed her from space and drag her to med-bay. She died right outside med-bay. Her heart stopped, and I breathed a weary sigh. 'Someone is trying to revive you. Please enter your corpse if you wish to be revived' I saw flash across the chat. I was at a crossroads, If I don't let her be revived, it wouldn't be fair the effort they're putting in. Whatever, I thought. There's no harm in it, she won't last anyways. She died, and was revived by the defibrillator two more fucking times. "We saved Cecelia!" the barber shouted. "Just let me die." She now whimpered. "I'm not worth it." Back at full health, surrounded by other players, trapped. "You're a good person, Cecilia." Jill Stingray said, standing in med-bay among the spectators. I choked, this was too real, and now it was getting personal. I was too drained to argue. So she ran, sprinting out of med-bay. They, the blue haired barber leading the chase, followed all the way to maint by the library, where I managed to give them the slip. I made my way back to the locker room undetected. She dropped everything she had on her, except her ID, which I stuffed into her pocket. I grabbed a screwdriver, fire suit, and a mask. Shift transfer vote flashed through the chat. I ignored it. I expected the round had gone on long enough, and just as I expected the shuttle was called. I began looking for a way into space. Disposals was out of the question. They'd probably be waiting. I passed by cargo, and made my way into the maint. I began frantically looking until I found a small room just past the mechanic's workshop. I blocked the door with a locker, hiding inside for a few paranoid seconds before I began to work. I started to work on the window, unscrewing it from the floor, prying it out, and removing it. I didn't have a wire-cutter, but I had just finished breaking the grille. I paused as a ship stopped on the outside. "Suicide is bad! Don't do it!" How many people, had gotten involved?! I exclaimed sitting back in my seat. Not wanting to cause more trouble, I fixed my almost-breach, moved the locker back, and stored the tools I had taken. I left the tiny room. I just had to find another way out. 'The shuttle has docked with the station' chimed over my speakers. Great, now I won't have to worry anyone. They should be heading to the shuttle. I nearly choked on my foot, as I immediately ran into the doctor who had earlier saved her life. People must have coordinating over the common channel, a skill that I lacked losing sight of the chat habitually as I often focused instead on my Jobs' tasks. Once again I ran, this time dropping everything in a panic that she had left. ID, fire suit, everything. Two doctors, Jill, and blue haired barber were in pursuit. I was no match, they stopped asking, ignoring her pleas, and started to disarm her and knock her down. Dragging her towards the shuttle. Thankfully, the second doctor struggled, unable to put the straight jacket on her. Due to some inexperience putting things on other people. I sat in silence, buckled, but not restrained, surrounded on all sides. I couldn't fight them off, so I waited. ETD 1:03. She unbuckled herself from the seat. No one noticed. I've got only one shot at this. ETD 0:31 She ran, and she made it past everyone. I did it! I thought. I didn't win, but it was at least a draw. Now I had little time to-. I watched once more in surreal horror, they chased after her. Why? Why? I repeated to myself. Why did you leave the shuttle for this stupid girl?! I was once again outmatched, cornered and restrained, only just after the shuttle left. The round ended. I was completely and utterly defeated. "Well, that was a round." I typed in OOC, broken, in the pre-game lobby. I didn't look for a response. I sat there. The next round started, but I didn't declare ready, and I wasn't planning on joining. I closed the client, then my laptop, and then went to bed. Epilogue: I had once more, with less dramatic flair attempted this. Even though I succeeded, she was shortly revived. I resigned myself to then play the captain music until the shift ended. Now, Cecilia Kirkson sits permanently in one of my character slots. Assistant, but more accurately Pianist. She hasn't attempted any more self harm. I now have started to use the common channel more. OOC post and pre game more. Jill Stingray, every time she and Cecilia are on shift together. She stops whatever she's doing to check on Cecilia. They're now friends, and she's introduced Cecilia to other characters. I, find myself, starting more and more to recognize characters on the server. Jill, goes out of her way, to protect Cecilia who now seems to be some sort of magnet for random harassment. Cecilia is commonly found playing the piano, in a black tango dress, at the bar when Jill is the bartender on shift. In Conclusion: Thank you, to the random players who put up with her, and who changed my SS13, paradise station experience forever. And on behalf of Cecilia Kirkson, thank you Jill Stingray, for always being there and looking out for her.

The Green beaked loser.