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1,300 | 26 | 11 | 2,629 | 2,920 | The Fleder hissed at the adversaries scowling at the number of attention it seemed to have attracted. "I thought your kind extinct long ago. Yet here you stand before I, Ameranth." The Fleder points towards the child-- who cowered behind the female witcher. "She is a willing sacrificial offering made by the village elders of Hergig. Unless you wish to have this village beset upon more calamities, hand me over the child." The wings of the Fleder began to spread-- clearly signing that it was willing to rip the child off their hands by force should diplomatic attempts fail. | Name: Ferghus of Haakland
Age: 117 (Appears as though he is 40)
With a stature of 5 foot and 8 inches, the weathered Ferghus stands shorter and more nimble footed compared to his witcher peers who often focuses more on brute strength and sheer tenacity. With an athletic build that rivals the infamous Cat School, blood-slit witcher eyes and his famous Haakian curved blades; no movement is uncalculated in the eyes of this monster hunter.
Race: Witcher
School: Wolf
Bio: In Progress
Personality:
Serviceable is a word most people would use to describe Ferghus. It's the kind of attitude that's there to get the job done and move on to the next hunt. He has a tendency to keep other's matters outside of his sights unless it was their life that was on the edge of his katana. Other than that-- he possesses a laissez faire demeanour.
Weapons: A pair of steel and silver katanas adorning his left waist. A tanto blade is also often seen when gathering trophies of his kills.
Rilden of Redania
Fellow Wolf.
Scilla of the Dancing Blades
"During a short trip to Skellige, Ferghus met with a woman known as Scilla aboard a galleon and spent the time together with a few drinks-- until they become notable friends. Scilla and Ferghus travelled together for a time with a common goal of refining their best tools of the trade; blades."
Elanil the Silent
"Ferghus' far-reaching travels brought him to many parties and social gatherings of note. One in particular was during a series of strange events when he undertook a Doppler Contract in Novigrad. The local ruler held a lavish party and invited many entertainers to come and entertain guests. When midnight passed, Ferghus was allured by a particular raven female dancer who performed a hypnotising performance."
Koldar, Bear School Witcher
"As Ferghus continued to undertake Haakland's harrowed woes, he would often find several contracts already fulfilled by another witcher who was around the area prior. Gossips of an eerie wraith with a fearsome flickering flail became common rabble and scare stories of many taverns which permeated villages where the contracts had been completed."
Yuna, Manticore School Witcher
"Sometimes the people that he encountered in the Continent are far more interesting than the contracts Ferghus undertakes. Such was the case of a particular female individual whom he witnessed picking herself a monster contract on the notice boards despite of her blindness. What thickened the atmosphere further was when she had realised she was being watched-- a quick dart that Ferghus felt when the eyes behind the cloth had locked on to his."
Other:
Waterstone kit, alchemical supplies to craft Witcher Potions. |
1,301 | 26 | 12 | 1,649 | 1,452 | Yuna hadn't joined the fight yet - namely cause there already was about three or four Witchers engaging the beasts. Anymore and it might turn into a complete brawl at that - what was more interesting, was that namely they had so many Witchers in one place. Yuna had felt it with her medallion - there were too many Witchers in one position and location to be a coincidence.
She kept at the village edge - listening deep to what was going on there. If trouble got worse, than she might be upto charging in to help them - but if it got worse, in addition, to something that would appear to be done by a Witcher or Witchers - then Yuna wasn't much in the mood of getting caught between some angry villagers and professional Monster-hunters.
'Hmmm, interesting. As always the average men are as monstorous as the beasts they fear,' she thought - hearing the beast speak it's demand. | Name: Foltest Voson
Age: 17
Race: Human
School: Training to join the Witcher School of the Wolf.
Bio: Born in the village of Midcopse, Foltest was the son of a man that descended from a long line of Temerian mercenaries and a mother who hailed from a now deserted village. Their parents had met as star-crossed lovers, initially forbidden to romance, since Foltest's mother was the daughter of the ealdorman. When her village was destroyed, she fled to Midcopse with the help of Foltest's father. With the threat of the ealdorman gone, fate entwined Foltest's parents together.
The Second Collision was a grim and bleak time, so Foltest's father decided to prepare his young son for the horrors that were to come, fearing a possible incursion from monsters into Midcopse itself despite its relative obscurity. A soldier by birth, the elder Voson was keen on teaching his son the craft, a craft that Foltest relished in. It took quite a while, sure, but for the next eight years, life seemed to continue in its normality. The agitation that gripped the Voson family and the rest of Midcopse eased, and Foltest became an avid hunter, sometimes skirting the outskirts in search for easy prey.
But, hunting could have its dangers, and on one particular day, such a danger came. At thirteen summers and almost a man now, Foltest had decided to venture further into the woods, curiosity piquing his interest. Ignoring his father's stern warning of not going any deeper than he did, Foltest's boyish curiosity almost saw him mauled by a bear! Having spotted the black creature in the midst of dusk, Foltest's had overestimated the durability of the great bear, thinking that two arrows to the head would do the trick. And, while it certainly would have felled the majestic creature, Foltest's anxiety got the better of him, only piercing the bear's hardened back. With a mighty roar of cold-blooded rage, the bear was Foltest's prey no longer. Foltest surely would have been mincemeat, had the timely intervention of a witcher not saved him. Coming from out of nowhere, things were a blur for the young hunter, who, despite being knocked down and dazed, witnessed the sheer power of the mutant's abilities. He'd heard of witchers before, but only of their callous attitude and emotionless stares. When the unknown witcher offered Foltest a hand to lift him up, Foltest was wary at first, thinking that the witcher was going to feed on him. Contrary to popular rumours, the surprisingly altruistic witcher did not. Instead, the witcher mended his bruises and quietly sent him back to the village. He didn't dare tell the rest of the village, clearly aware of what the presence of a such a figure would incite in them. The incident left a profound mark on the young Foltest, who would never forget the witcher's cat-like eyes..or the medallion of a wolf that he wore around his thick neck...It was his first experience with a mutant.
At the tender age of fourteen, would Foltest become the only male relative of the Voson household, and burdened with the task of caring for his newborn sister, Effy, and his mother who had fallen sick in the aftermath of her pregnancy. With his father's death, all the innocence that made Foltest enjoy the simple life he had, was lost to the claws of the beasts that roamed the night. From thereon, Foltest became a different man. Stern, cynical and bitter about the tragic circumstances that he was forced in, Foltest dreaded every second of his new surroundings. Food became like ash to him, and most of what he caught were given to mother and sister. And, since there wasn't enough to eat as a result of the wars, the Voson family suffered hardship, only persevering when Foltest started selling the furs of his kills as well. It was still a harsh life, but they managed to survive their mundane existence. An existence that Foltest decided to finally change for the best when he heard that the King announced hefty rewards for those brave enough to stand against the invading darkness of the Second Collision. Realizing that he didn't have the necessary skills to hunt monsters, Foltest sought out the mutant that saved him in the past and volunteered to be trained in the ways of the School of the Wolf so Rilden could restore their ranks, and in exchange, a good sum of coins would be delivered to his family in Midcopse....
Personality: Having lost his father at a young age of 14, Foltest was forced to mature at a very young age. At a time where food was scarce and families went hungry, Foltest adopted a very cynical take on life. Whereas most of Midcopse's peasants fretted over the dangers, and feared the woods, Foltest hated the sanctity of where he was born, but having a sick mother and little sister to provide for, family always came first for the boy. Almost devoid of any support, Foltest's bears a strong sense of drive, independence and survivalism. Yet, for the maturity that he developed early on, he is also very prone to taking risks, especially when hunting. A reckless soul, as the villagers would label him as such. In short: Caring towards those he cares about, brave, reckless and a survivalist. Despises his mundane lifestyle, and is wary around individuals he is unfamiliar with.
Weapons: optional
Family/relationships?: Roland Volen(Father/Deceased)
Elena Volen nee Burst(Mother)
Effy Volen(Sister)
Rilden of Redania(Teacher/'Father')
Other: As a Witcher-in-Training, Foltest realizes that when he takes the Trial of the Grasses, he could very well not survive the process. For that occasion, he makes sure to prepare an efficient amount of money to cover for his sister and mother in the case that he is perished. |
1,302 | 26 | 13 | 267 | 252 | Moro the Muddler had arrived in the village in the early hours of the morning, having taken one of several contracts on monsters in the area around it. He'd heard the rumours about spell slinging Sylvans and overly aggressive Spriggans, but didn't put much stock in them - after all, rumours are as rumours do, and rarely does a rumour meet reality.
However, as it turned out something rather odd was happening.
A creature reminiscent of an Ekkimara, surrounded it seemed by a small score of other Witchers, was demanding its sacrifice. This would not normally have been terribly strange, for a Witcher - but Ekkimara are not capable of speech, and do not make demands. This was, instead, a Fleder.
And not once had the Muddler ever fought a higher vampire.
Briefly, he wondered if Axii might have an effect on them.
The answer was 'probably not, and don't try it.'
"And why does a higher vampire lust after the blood of children? Don't you know that adults have more of the stuff?" He questioned innocently, casually drawing his silver sword as he approached the site of the soon-to-be battle, and surreptitiously cast Quen on himself. | Name: Moro the Muddler
Age: 140 years, 5 months, and six days as of the last time he saw a calendar.
Appearance:
Race: Human Witcher
School: School of the Manticore - however, he is heavily distanced from that school now.
Bio: Moro the Muddler was - as is easily surmised - not always known as Moro the Muddler. Before he was inducted into the strange, quasi-religious Manticore School as a child, he was known as Tirimet Kadgadursen, and he was the son of a moderately successful caravan owner, trading silk from Zerrikania. He had no head for business, though his mathematics was slightly above average and his reading more than sufficient, and he was easily distracted from the education his parents were trying to provide for him - but ultimately, that doesn't matter. They were killed in a raid on their caravan when he was 5, and staying home from the trip on his father's orders, to study for an exam.
Shortly thereafter, he set about wandering the city to kill his boredom, and it was in this vein of things that he stumbled upon a Witcher, deep in meditation. The Witcher, known then as Josef of Velen, awoke to find the boy sitting in front of him and - beguiled by a charm that Tirimet would quickly lose as he grew up - decided to take him in.
Throughout his training, Tirimet became known for above average but ultimately unremarkable swordsmanship, a complete inability to aim with a crossbow, his tendency to make potions that worked perfectly fine, but somehow all tasted like ghoul piss... and his stunning proficiency with Signs.
In particular, with axii.
After the trial of the grasses, which Tirimet passed adequately, he set out into the world to do business as a Witcher.
Only, as aforementioned... he has a horrible head for business.
In fact, having lost much of his persuasiveness during the grueling training of a witcher, Tirimet's greatest reknown was very rapidly gained for his subtle use of the Axii sign during fee negotiations - and indeed, in general life. The Manticore school saw this as dishonorable and soon became apprehensive of having him connected to their name, considering it edging towards breaching the Witcher's Code. So they cut him loose.
"Tirimet of the Dragon's Pass, your use of the abilities granted to you by merit of being a Witcher is nothing short of dishonorable. To prevent the sullying of our noble name, we henceforth consider you an outcast of this school." They told him, having brought him before their elders in cuffs, stripped of his weapons.
"To redeem the dishonor you have dirtied yourself and your brothers with, you shall also drop the name granted to you by this school. From this day until the last you live to see, you will be known no longer as Tirimet of the Dragon's Pass, nor as Tirimet Kadgadursen."
"And what am I to be known as in their stead?" He had spat through clenched teeth, and white knuckles.
The Elders had scowled at him.
"The Old Zerrikanian word for 'Trickster' is 'Moro' - and enough of the locals have taken to calling you 'the Muddler' that the rest of it should be obvious to you."
Few alive today - outside of the School of the Manticore - learn to speak Old Zerrikanian. Those that can understand it are usually magical in nature, whether they are witchers or not.
But the purpose was not to have it be known to all, the purpose was to have it be known to whom it concerned, and Moro the Muddler's muddling ways concerned mostly his fellow witchers, should they ever meet him again.
To fast forward from there, Moro the Muddler is now one of the best traveled, and more experienced Witchers in the land. His use of signs is, as ever, world class, and it makes him a valuable asset indeed to those who can afford him. But dishonorable as he may be considered, Moro the Muddler still keeps mostly to the Witcher Code - and does not speak as much as he used to.
Personality: Mostly a straight sort of man, Moro does not usually joke about things - and when he does it is often in poor taste. Instead, he prefers to be more somber than most, and consider what he sees before he acts upon it. He still uses Axii too much, but is coming to realise that the life it will lead him to is an exceptionally lonely one - especially since his reliance on it managed to lose him the woman he loved.
Weapons: One zerrikanian steel sword, gently curved from hilt to tip for additional slashing capability - as the expense of thrusting capability, and balance. It's a weapon almost unrivaled for cleaving and dismemberment, but it relies heavily on the chained style of the Manticore school - or a mount - to be fully effective.
One custom made silver sword - smithed roughly in the style of the Manticore school, but an imperfect copy that would never be identified as based on that design, excepting by a Manticore witcher themself. Though not all manticore witcher swords are curved, this one is, to best complement the chained fighting style he's grown used to.
Family/relationships?: No family - they were all killed in the caravan raid that orphaned him. However, there is still one sorceress in this world that he once loved. There is no guarantee she still feels the same way, however.
Other: Moro's potions really do taste like ghoul piss, but he was taught the recipe for zerrikanian fire - an explosive compound - during his Witcher training, and could theoretically replicate it with local ingredients outside of Zerrikania. However, efficacy is not guaranteed when not following the original formula. |
1,303 | 26 | 14 | 1,991 | 4,771 | Frankly I don't really give a damn about the village and it's fate. Scilla stated to the vampire with annoyed voice. This creature was getting on her nerves, she preferred these thigns when they were more mindless and quiet with their thought processes. There was also the other thing that it just stated... the village had sent the girl as a living sacrifice to this Fleder. If there was something she hated a lot in this world was this type of people." Look at the girl, she certainly doesn't seem like a WILLING sacrifice to me." She stated, noting the increased presences that were converging at this location. She sensed troubles brewing. So many people of their vocations gathered at one place by chance was an unnatural thing. Something else was indeed going on here.
"Bah..." She snarled as yet another person joined the fary. Looked like hte next obvious muscle bound witcher, especially judging by how he spoke. She pulled hte reigns of her horse slightly, making it go some steps backwards to move away from the upcoming fight. She vaguely considered bombarding the fleder with kinetic blasts from above, but decided against it at the very moment.
"Child, tell me, did you want to be sacrificed?" She asked, the girl. The only person's opinion everyone here seemed to be ignoring so far." This... thing here stated something, but I want to hear you opinion on the subject." | Name: Scilla of the Dancing Blades.
Age: 132 looks around 25
Appearance:
Scilla stands at 5'8'' feet tall with very long black hair, fair skin and piercing gray eyes. Like all women of her vocation, she's very beautiful, but at the same time currently her body appears a lot better trained than all her colleagues. Her muscles are well defined, but not invasive to the eye and it's clear she's no pushover when it comes to physical activity.
Race: Human sorceress
School: N/A
Bio: Scilla was born sometime before the great purge that nearly turned her kind and the witchers all but extinct. In fact she was just a young sorceress when it happened. She was just traveling with her direct mentor when they were jumped on by a great number of soldiers. Everything happened so fast that even to this day she is not completely sure how it all transpired. One moment they were simply riding a carriage down a road and the next a rain of arrows struck the vehicle. The carriage driver and the horses died right away, she and her mentor survived because of a shield he put.
The following was a rather quick battle as a great number of soldiers died to magical fires and lightning, but her mentor also took an arrow to the back. Not wanting to die like a common mutt, Scilla was forced to defend herself, but she was considerably weaker than her mentor at the time. Still in that desperation, she reached into her mind and pulled a way of using magic that no one had taught her. By instinct, using her ability to manipulate objects and energy, she grabbed a great number of the scattered arrows, swords, axes and shields, anything that could be thrown and using her magic turned the hail of death onto the soldiers. First by a handful then by the dozens, as the weapons were hurled with ever so greater speed. She was mostly lucky that those were rather common troops, but non the less she managed to escape while the majority of the soldiers were trying to close their wounds from the randomly hurled sharp metal objects at them... at least those who survived it.
After that event, Scilla fled the continent and headed north towards Skellige. The islands were a great place to lay low from the massive witch hunt that was happening, especially since she dressed like a commoner and eventually joined a ship's crew. She spend the following 50 years on ships, before disembarking back on the continent. By now she had mastered sword fighting to a certain degree and in secret she had also advanced another skill she discovered when she escaped the purge. The precise and exact manipulation of energy, which allowed her to control objects and fight with them. Over the next 50 or so years she spend the time traveling, mostly spending her time as witchers would do, despite her not being one. The time with at Skellige taught her to appreciate great alcohol and all chaos that came with it. Eventually she was dubbed The Dancing Blades by a bard from a caravan she happened by complete chance to safe from some rampaging nekkers. In general she did prefer to not use her additional blades though, keeping a low profile and being confused with one of the many warrior women out there suits her just fine... When the Second Conjuring happened it came as only a very vague surprise. So was the massive hunt down for witchers and sorcerers that followed in the desperate attempt by the Grand King to safe his skin by throwing those they deemed evil and unnatural at their enemies. Well for now at least they have not yet realized what she was, so she kept quiet for the moment, simply spending her time, planning a next move. Wondering which would be more beneficial... the death of the new monsters or the death of the...Grand King.
Personality: Mostly calm, Scilla is a very level headed individual who would rarely explode in bursts of rage, but once she does, her wrath could be stated to be legendary. She's has incredibly good memory for people who wronged her in some way and eventually she will always deliver her vengeance down the line. Besides that she's someone who loves nature in almost all of it's forms. One of her most favorite things to do is lay down on a sunny beach, enjoying the sun.
Weapons:
2x Curved steel swords
4x Steel straight narrow blades
Leather bundle wrap for the blades
Family/relationships?:
Ferghus of Haakland - Scilla met him a good half a centure ago now while she was still in Skellige. They happened to share a ship and got to talking, then drinking and finally traveling together for a while. She came to consider him a friend, during their journey to forge great weapons for themselves.
Other: Immense hatred for The Grand King . |
1,304 | 26 | 15 | 267 | 252 | Of the child can speak at all right now, you should not need to ask. Who in the world wants to be eaten by that thing? Moro's eyebrow twitched, as his grip tightened on the sword.
"Really, she should be running. Not like half a dozen witchers can't deal with one of these - even if it is a higher one of these." He half growled at the Fleder, its refusal to answer irking him - and the other witcher's asinine insistence that the child should have her opinion heard adding to it. | Name: Moro the Muddler
Age: 140 years, 5 months, and six days as of the last time he saw a calendar.
Appearance:
Race: Human Witcher
School: School of the Manticore - however, he is heavily distanced from that school now.
Bio: Moro the Muddler was - as is easily surmised - not always known as Moro the Muddler. Before he was inducted into the strange, quasi-religious Manticore School as a child, he was known as Tirimet Kadgadursen, and he was the son of a moderately successful caravan owner, trading silk from Zerrikania. He had no head for business, though his mathematics was slightly above average and his reading more than sufficient, and he was easily distracted from the education his parents were trying to provide for him - but ultimately, that doesn't matter. They were killed in a raid on their caravan when he was 5, and staying home from the trip on his father's orders, to study for an exam.
Shortly thereafter, he set about wandering the city to kill his boredom, and it was in this vein of things that he stumbled upon a Witcher, deep in meditation. The Witcher, known then as Josef of Velen, awoke to find the boy sitting in front of him and - beguiled by a charm that Tirimet would quickly lose as he grew up - decided to take him in.
Throughout his training, Tirimet became known for above average but ultimately unremarkable swordsmanship, a complete inability to aim with a crossbow, his tendency to make potions that worked perfectly fine, but somehow all tasted like ghoul piss... and his stunning proficiency with Signs.
In particular, with axii.
After the trial of the grasses, which Tirimet passed adequately, he set out into the world to do business as a Witcher.
Only, as aforementioned... he has a horrible head for business.
In fact, having lost much of his persuasiveness during the grueling training of a witcher, Tirimet's greatest reknown was very rapidly gained for his subtle use of the Axii sign during fee negotiations - and indeed, in general life. The Manticore school saw this as dishonorable and soon became apprehensive of having him connected to their name, considering it edging towards breaching the Witcher's Code. So they cut him loose.
"Tirimet of the Dragon's Pass, your use of the abilities granted to you by merit of being a Witcher is nothing short of dishonorable. To prevent the sullying of our noble name, we henceforth consider you an outcast of this school." They told him, having brought him before their elders in cuffs, stripped of his weapons.
"To redeem the dishonor you have dirtied yourself and your brothers with, you shall also drop the name granted to you by this school. From this day until the last you live to see, you will be known no longer as Tirimet of the Dragon's Pass, nor as Tirimet Kadgadursen."
"And what am I to be known as in their stead?" He had spat through clenched teeth, and white knuckles.
The Elders had scowled at him.
"The Old Zerrikanian word for 'Trickster' is 'Moro' - and enough of the locals have taken to calling you 'the Muddler' that the rest of it should be obvious to you."
Few alive today - outside of the School of the Manticore - learn to speak Old Zerrikanian. Those that can understand it are usually magical in nature, whether they are witchers or not.
But the purpose was not to have it be known to all, the purpose was to have it be known to whom it concerned, and Moro the Muddler's muddling ways concerned mostly his fellow witchers, should they ever meet him again.
To fast forward from there, Moro the Muddler is now one of the best traveled, and more experienced Witchers in the land. His use of signs is, as ever, world class, and it makes him a valuable asset indeed to those who can afford him. But dishonorable as he may be considered, Moro the Muddler still keeps mostly to the Witcher Code - and does not speak as much as he used to.
Personality: Mostly a straight sort of man, Moro does not usually joke about things - and when he does it is often in poor taste. Instead, he prefers to be more somber than most, and consider what he sees before he acts upon it. He still uses Axii too much, but is coming to realise that the life it will lead him to is an exceptionally lonely one - especially since his reliance on it managed to lose him the woman he loved.
Weapons: One zerrikanian steel sword, gently curved from hilt to tip for additional slashing capability - as the expense of thrusting capability, and balance. It's a weapon almost unrivaled for cleaving and dismemberment, but it relies heavily on the chained style of the Manticore school - or a mount - to be fully effective.
One custom made silver sword - smithed roughly in the style of the Manticore school, but an imperfect copy that would never be identified as based on that design, excepting by a Manticore witcher themself. Though not all manticore witcher swords are curved, this one is, to best complement the chained fighting style he's grown used to.
Family/relationships?: No family - they were all killed in the caravan raid that orphaned him. However, there is still one sorceress in this world that he once loved. There is no guarantee she still feels the same way, however.
Other: Moro's potions really do taste like ghoul piss, but he was taught the recipe for zerrikanian fire - an explosive compound - during his Witcher training, and could theoretically replicate it with local ingredients outside of Zerrikania. However, efficacy is not guaranteed when not following the original formula. |
1,305 | 26 | 16 | 2,629 | 2,920 | The vampire's mouths contract a bellow perceivable as a hiss, as his patience grew thin. The ghostly presence of the barghests began to surround the area between the witchers and the fleder. "You do not care for the village but you insist upon protecting the sacrifice which ties into the fate of this village itself. Wondrous creatures are you, beings of this realm. I'm afraid I've seen through your deceit. Take her." Ameranth points his claw-like fingers at the girl yet again-- this time the Barghests swooped in unison, striking the mages and witchers at the same time.
Ferghus whom had waited for this opportune moment descended from the tree in which he shrouded himself with, silver katana racing down the Fleder at blinding speeds. Yet with an even faster retaliation was made by the Fleder who not only avoided Ferghus' ambush-- it managed to grip the sharp end of the silver katana with one of its hand. A quick hand sign was made and a thunderous force pushed against the fleder as Ferghus dislodged his weapon from the Fleder's hand and followed Newton's Third Law.
His boots scarred the earth, but as his stance began to form-- he saw the fair-skinned woman holding on to the child... A figure began to appear behind them as a wight unveils itself from its camouflage and ripped the child off the witcher's loose protection. It then began to attempt escape. | Name: Ferghus of Haakland
Age: 117 (Appears as though he is 40)
With a stature of 5 foot and 8 inches, the weathered Ferghus stands shorter and more nimble footed compared to his witcher peers who often focuses more on brute strength and sheer tenacity. With an athletic build that rivals the infamous Cat School, blood-slit witcher eyes and his famous Haakian curved blades; no movement is uncalculated in the eyes of this monster hunter.
Race: Witcher
School: Wolf
Bio: In Progress
Personality:
Serviceable is a word most people would use to describe Ferghus. It's the kind of attitude that's there to get the job done and move on to the next hunt. He has a tendency to keep other's matters outside of his sights unless it was their life that was on the edge of his katana. Other than that-- he possesses a laissez faire demeanour.
Weapons: A pair of steel and silver katanas adorning his left waist. A tanto blade is also often seen when gathering trophies of his kills.
Rilden of Redania
Fellow Wolf.
Scilla of the Dancing Blades
"During a short trip to Skellige, Ferghus met with a woman known as Scilla aboard a galleon and spent the time together with a few drinks-- until they become notable friends. Scilla and Ferghus travelled together for a time with a common goal of refining their best tools of the trade; blades."
Elanil the Silent
"Ferghus' far-reaching travels brought him to many parties and social gatherings of note. One in particular was during a series of strange events when he undertook a Doppler Contract in Novigrad. The local ruler held a lavish party and invited many entertainers to come and entertain guests. When midnight passed, Ferghus was allured by a particular raven female dancer who performed a hypnotising performance."
Koldar, Bear School Witcher
"As Ferghus continued to undertake Haakland's harrowed woes, he would often find several contracts already fulfilled by another witcher who was around the area prior. Gossips of an eerie wraith with a fearsome flickering flail became common rabble and scare stories of many taverns which permeated villages where the contracts had been completed."
Yuna, Manticore School Witcher
"Sometimes the people that he encountered in the Continent are far more interesting than the contracts Ferghus undertakes. Such was the case of a particular female individual whom he witnessed picking herself a monster contract on the notice boards despite of her blindness. What thickened the atmosphere further was when she had realised she was being watched-- a quick dart that Ferghus felt when the eyes behind the cloth had locked on to his."
Other:
Waterstone kit, alchemical supplies to craft Witcher Potions. |
1,306 | 27 | 0 | 1,166 | 33 | Sunny days and clear blue skies, that's what I'm looking for. The wind dances among treetops overhead, rustling through the leaves and dragging small clouds of dust along the road beside me as my brief companions. With the sun peering down from overhead and warm soil below on this dusty road... I can hear the crashing of waves from the shore just out of sight. The crunching of sticks underfoot, the quiet rustling in the woods, a lark's song overhead. Sunny days and clear blue skies, that's all I'm looking for.
A young woman, her name is Victoria, steps out of a storefront, it's a little place called "Ben's". She turns at the last second to give a small wave and smile to the girl she'd met at the counter, but she can't see anyone there anymore. Instead an elderly woman, sitting at a table between her and the counter, looks up from her paper and stares back with disinterest. Victoria's cheeks redden and she turns back away, letting the screen door snap shut behind her with a thud as she steps off the freshly-painted white porch and takes in the smell of clean air... accompanied by that of a rubber-grass welcome mat and the tire replacement service next door anyway. She walks over the tire-tracks her parents had left behind when they dropped her off, unwraps a piece of gum from the little brown shopping bag in her left hand, and starts down the path and into the woods. Where the road is long and winding, but she doesn't have far to go.
She'd kept time by kicking a stone most of the way, it was always just a little ways ahead of her... it'd roll ahead and drift slowly back again with her approach. Eventually she took out her phone, but she has to cup her hands around the screen to even see it against the glare of the sun. Her face scrunches up and she mumbles when she sees she has no bars anymore, but that's not surprising, she'd only been able to get two at Ben's to begin with. So she slips the phone away again and begins to hum softly to herself as she admires the treeline. It's a little after noon when her song ends, she steps lightly on her rock, and looks up from the end of the driveway at the cabin her parents had rented for the summer. It's not small, but it's not huge either, two floors, two bathrooms, bedrooms, the works. The outside looks like a typical log cabin with a long stained porch, and the inside is fairly rustic but has all the comforts of a modern home.
Climbing up the steps and fishing the key out from under the mat, Victoria smirked. Because maybe it wasn't the most original place to hide a key, but it definitely fit the atmosphere of this place. She unlatched the screen door, letting it rest against her hip as she unlocked the front-door and stepped inside. The screen-door swung shut behind her with a loud bang, and she froze for a moment before looking back at it and pausing, face drained of colour, only to giggle to herself as she relaxed. Her things were all set on the couch opposite the entryway; a suitcase, her laptop and a few other essentials, all having arrived earlier in the day prior to her own arrival. There were little paintings on the walls of each room, paintings of other cabins, and some of animals. On one shelf there was even a wood carving of a fish which made her smile fondly along with a raised eyebrow. She passed the hallway by, only looking down it at the long spiraling steps before she entered the living room, only to freeze, her face lighting up, as she saw the lake outside, crystal-clear and shining.
After taking some time to explore the house, checking each room as she went, Victoria eventually took her things upstairs. Selecting the room on the left side of the hallway (Room K) as her own, and she dropped her things unceremoniously onto the bed in the North-West corner of the room. "I hereby dub this room, the girls room!" she said to herself, and then, after a moment of silence, brought her right hand up against her face lightly and sighed before brushing upwards through her hair and then letting it drop down to her side again. Returning down stairs to the entryway, she laid on her back on the couch facing the door, head and feet on opposite arm-rests, and closed her eyes. All she had to do was wait, it's around 1:00pm and everyone should arrive soon, but... for now, the quiet is enough, it's pleasant even. The sound of crashing waves, of rustling wind; sunny days and clear blue skies. | Name: Victoria "Tori" Rohde
Age: 19
Sex: Female
Gender: Cisgendered
Height: 6'0
Major: General Studies ( Art Focus )
Occupation: N/A
Hobby: Singing, dancing, taking picutures, drawing, and living-out-loud.
Personal Theme-Music: Detektivbyrån - Nattoppet
Description of Voice: Soft at times, but more often of moderate volume/tone and riddled with quick, sharp remarks. Her voice is, admittedly, rather pleasant to listen to.
- by vmbui |
1,307 | 27 | 1 | 1,559 | 209 | Paul wasn't sure to think as he stood at the bus stop near a cozy little general store.
He hadn't expected one of his classmates to invite him to out to a lake house for the summer vacation. He didn't really know the girl too well, they were acquaintances at best, though he did know her name at the very least. Mélanie Bouchard. She seemed nice enough, and they had a mutual interest in writing, so it was easy to be friendly with her.
But, like as it had been said, he hadn't expected her to invite him. He'd thought that she would maybe invite someone she knew a little better, like a close friend. He almost even rejected the offer. His job wasn't all that secure and he'd most likely have to leave just to go on this trip, and then he'd have to find a job at a new newspaper once the summer break ended. Still though, he realized he honestly needed a break. He hadn't gotten any real personal writing done in awhile now. Perhaps this stay at the cabin could help him to unwind and reinspire himself.
And so, he accepted Mélanie's offer. She gave him directions to where the lake cabin was, as well as when the host of this get-together, Victoria Rohde, would arrive, and told him that at least four others would be coming as well. He didn't have a car, so he was going to have to take the bus to get there.
And now, there he was. Other than the bus stop, a tire replacement service, and a store simply called "Ben's", he was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Forest trees surrounded him in all directions, which was definitely a new experience. He was a city boy, he wasn't even going to try to deny it. Living out in the woods was very different from anything else he knew. He suddenly felt anxious, wondering if maybe he'd accidentally taken the wrong bus route and was now completely lost. Perhaps the general store owner could help him gain his bearings.
With a messenger bag strapped from around his shoulder, and a suitcase in his right hand, he went over to the store and opened the screen entrance door. He could see an elderly woman sitting at a table, but no one else at the moment.
"Excuse me, is there someone that could help me?" He asked, "I'm pretty sure I'm in the right area, but still I feel kinda lost. I'm looking for a lake house cabin, I think it belongs to the Rohde family? I'm gonna be staying there for the summer. Does anyone know if it's near here?" | Name: Paul Hera
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Height: 5"10
Major: English
Occupation: Freelance Newspaper Journalist
Hobby: Writing, reading, going for walks, relaxing at a park, being sarcastic and snarky
Personal Theme-Music: Moonsetter
Example of Speech: "I'm going to laugh when one of you guys inevitably hurt yourself doing something dumb."
Example of Action: Paul couldn't help but roll his eyes at the others. He sighed, eventually agreeing to go along with their idea.
Description of Voice: His voice is a bit low-pitched, and calm sounding, if not a bit impatient at times. When he's teasing or being snarky, you can practically hear the sarcasm dripping off his voice.
Physical Appearance: He's light-skinned with an average but trim body type. He has somewhat short but unkempt black hair, as well as dark blue eyes. He has glasses, though he almost never wears them and prefers contacts instead. His clothes are often casual wear, such as a jeans and T-shirt combo, though dresses more professionally when working or meeting up with friends in order to make a good impression. |
1,308 | 27 | 2 | 2,344 | 303 | Mélanie stares at the scenery whipping by the window of the bus, a smile on her face. This was exactly the kind of place she needed to be all summer. Sure, she could be back in the city stocking groceries 8 hours a day in order to support herself for the next year, but why do that when she could be out at a cabin in the woods. That aesthetic was practically begging for her attention. Her earbuds let the music flood her brain as she lip synced along to the haunting voice of Katie Crutchfield.
To tell the truth, Mélanie wasn’t entirely sure why she’d been asked in the first place. Living in the same house, even for just a couple months, seemed like a pretty intimate thing, something you would need to be really close in order to do. Mélanie was ecstatic to come along for the ride though, she’d been wanting to get to really know Victoria since they met at the start of the year, but their conversations had been brief at best.
The coach slowly rolled to a stop outside some kind of convenience store and Mélanie stood up from her seat, grabbing the acoustic guitar case and large suitcase from the seat beside her. As she walked off the bus, Mélanie looked at the small townlette she was standing in. An obviously family run convenience store which was sure to be the “go to” destination for all supplies that the group might need, and a tire replacement shop, which will probably get significantly less visits from the group. Mélanie found it odd to not find a gas station out in this middle of nowhere town, but reasoned there must be one down the road a bit.
It was then when she noticed a familiar face standing in the convenience store. Mélanie paused her music and took the earbuds out of her ears. She walked up to store and opened the door. “Hey Paul!” She said with a slight laugh. “You lost?” Paul wasn’t really Mélanie’s first choice to go on this trip out into the wilderness, but of course Laura was trying to “reconnect with her roots” by backpacking through Argentina this summer, so Paul will have to do. Not to say that Mélanie disliked Paul in any way, far from it in fact. She loved reading his stories and found him to be an interesting writer, it’s just that was pretty much all she knew about him. So this would have to be the summer of socialization, and Mélanie was excited about it. | Name: Mélanie Bouchard
Age: 19
Sex: AFAB
Gender: Female
Height: 5’5
Major: Philosophy
Occupation: Stocks Groceries
Hobby: Amatuer singer-songwriter (of the folk variety), record collector, book reader, poetry writer
Personal Theme-Music: Erik Satie - Gymnopédie No.1
Speech: “I went to France once, and it was cool and all that, but no one could really... understand the Québécois accent, so I just decided that Montréal was the better place for me to speak my language.”
Action: The café’s quiet today She thought to herself as she admired the stillness of her surroundings. Her gaze changed to focus on the street outside the window. The sun shone brightly as she took a sip from the slowly cooling coffee in front of her. It was then when she noticed a familiar woman crossing the street. A smile grew on Mélanie’s face as she gave a subtle wave in the woman’s direction.
Description of Voice: A bit lower for a woman, Mélanie’s voice still holds remnants of her native language, leading her to have a slight French accent. Although her vocabulary is pretty comprehensive, she can still get held up on some of the longer words, leaving her to pause and think about what to say next.
Physical Appearance: Mélanie is a skinny woman with long and wavy dirty blonde hair, usually done up in a messy bun. Her eyes a radiant green, displayed behind a pair of browline glasses. Her earlobes are pierced, with her right ear sporting a cartilage piercing. Her usual dress is a pair of tight jeans with holes in the knees, and some kind of flannel over a t-shirt or tank top, though there are times when she dresses up it is only really for special occasions. |
1,309 | 27 | 3 | 2,441 | 646 | James Brody, otherwise known as Jim, sat in the back of a pickup truck with the luggage. His mother, a chubby blonde woman from Finland was bouncing along in the drivers seat with Rocketman, the family dog, in the passengers seat. Sitting across and slightly along from Jim was Henri, Jim's Finnish cousin who he hadn't seen in years. They had been pretty close when younger, visiting frequently and Skyping constantly, but as the years wore on like a beloved duvet, it lost its appeal and school and work and ambitions crawled further up on the priorities list. But Henri had a break or something from school in Finland and decided to visit his Yankee Doodle Doo family. Jim had had made plans to come to this remote little cabin with a friend from school, but when his mom told him to try and get Henri invited so they could spend more time together while they could, Jim agreed. Henri was cool. He could roll with the punches. And now, as they sat in the bed of the old 1989 Ford F100, the wind tussled Jim's hair playfully, like a drunk girlfriend cuddled up in bed with you. The sun warmed his bones gently. If any phrase in the English language could describe this day, it would be that today was perfect.
Rocketman's head stuck out of the passenger window, tongue lolling in the wind and eyes closed. When Mrs Brody came to a halt outside of a quaint little store with 'Ben's' written on a sign, swaying softly from the breeze coming from the lake, Rocketman brought his head inside and looked questioningly at the woman driving, asking Why have you stopped the wind? with the brown eyes of the labrador retriever begging for it to start again. Mrs Brody stroked the dog from head to tail before opening up the window separating bed and cab. "Here you are, honey," she said in her thick Finnish accent. Jim didn't even notice it anymore, he had been so attuned to it for 19 years that it was normal, but everyone else who met her fell in love with the larger womans voice. Most people who met her said she reminded them of a baker, with rosy cheeks and a laugh always in the air. Jim thought she looked more like the headmistress from Matilda.
"Thanks mom," Jim replied, lifting his hiking pack and slinging it over one shoulder. He slapped the knee of the other boy. "Wakey wakey, kiddo. Let's get our hillbilly on," Jim said, not thinking that Henri may not catch the joke. He was bright, but he had only been here a handful of times, and Jim wasn't sure how far the American humour reached across the globe. Jim vaulted off the flatbed and slipped the other strap over his shoulder, securing the heavy bag. He walked to the drivers side and kissed his mother goodbye on the cheek and stuck his arm over, scratching Rocketman under the chin. He was a good dog, didn't bite, rarely barked, and had a sense of humour that almost seemed to rival most humans. He would pick up on jokes (well, the atmosphere of the room) and do tricks or comfort someone if it was necessary, it was almost spooky the way he connected with people like that, but Rocketman had saved Jim more times than he could count, so he didn't question it.
Standing at the entrance to Ben's were two people, a boy and a girl. He vaguely recognised them but not enough to to attach a name to the face. Jim strolled over. Both were reasonably attractive by anyone's standards, male or female, straight or gay. But the blonde girl had something about her, something that drew Jim's gaze. "Hi, I'm Jim," he said as he looked at both of them, a friendly grin on his face. "I just can't get over how beautiful it is today. I'm guessing you're here for that Victoria girl? Dom invited us." | Name: James 'Jim' Brody
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Height: 6'1"
Major: Astrophysics
Occupation: Waiter at a local restaraunt
Hobby: Swimming, Jim is a huge swimming fan.
Personal Theme-Music: Ludovico Einaudi - Experience
Example of Speech: "I genuinely believe, 100%, that aliens are real. Are you kidding? Seriously? Where's your proof, goddammit!"
Example of Action: Jim sat in the chair, fingers twitching, eyes focusing on the girl across the room like a laser tracking beacon. "Do it," she said. He stood up, and slowly strutted his way to her. Body tense, eyes locked, footsteps careful. He leaned down, one hand softly cradling the velvety skin of her neck, the other combing her hair behind her ear, a glowering intensity between the two. His hand moved behind her head and pulled out a quarter. His lips moved closer to her ear and breathed, "Ta-da."
Description of Voice: Intense, passion behind every word he says. Not deep, but not high pitched either. Enough to give the impression that he isn't a boy, and not a man, but someone who should always stay a teenager and enjoy life.
Physical Appearance: Standing around 6'1" and with an athletic, lean build to help his swimming. Dirty blond hair, icy blue eyes and a long 5-inch scar running diagonally on his back from when he was a kid and fell out of a tree and landed on debris left underneath it. |
1,310 | 27 | 4 | 181 | 1,997 | Henri woke up with a startle, and took a quick look through the window. After he saw that they stopped, he realized he must have slept through the trip. It's been over a week since he arrived in the country, so he didn't have jet lag anymore, but he simply wasn't used to waking up as early as they did this morning. Henri was glad that he could join Jim in his trip; while it was nice staying at his relatives, he had to admit it was getting monotonous staying there, and preferred company closer to his own age. The reason he came to America was to take a break from his studies and make new memories. He just hoped he didn't embarrass Jim during their stay there, as there were still some things about American culture he didn't have a full grasp on yet.
"Sure," Henri answered as he hopped out of the car and grabbed his baggage. He wondered if he joked about the two of them being hillbillies, but didn't ask any further, assuming it was an American joke. Jim's changed a lot over the years, but he's still cracking jokes like in the good old days, which made Henri smile when he thought about it. He went to grab his baggage, and patted Rocketman a bit. He was allergic to animals when he was younger, but fortunately he grew out of it. He then thanked Jim's mother for driving them there: "Kiitos kun kyytsäsit meidät tänne. Olisin itse ajanut, mutta en ole tottunut ajamaan näillä amerikkalaisilla autoilla, automaattisia kun ovat. Väsyttikin aika pahasti myös."
Once he saw aunt Brody off, Henri turned around and noticed they weren't the only ones who arrived. He assumed the other two were also going for the cabin, since Dominic did say that his friend Victoria had a bunch of folks invited. There wasn't anything noteworthy about the guy except that he dressed better than the rest of e'm, but the girl was more interesting; Henri had a suspicion she was a foreigner like him. He was puzzled by the fact that Jim suddenly started talking to them like that. Maybe it was an American custom to greet strangers on the street, he thought. He simply stood beside him, not sure if he should have greeted them like he did or not. | Name: Henri Nieminen
Age: 20
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Height: 5’9
Major: Foreign major (Information technology)
Occupation: N/A
Hobby: Miniature-painting and jogging
Personal Theme-Music: The Lord of the Rings - Rivendell/Evenstar Theme
Speech: "Yeah, I'd rather not do that again. Tents can be a pain to set up, especially in the middle of winter. Not that there's anything wrong with outdoor activities."
Action: Henri took the can of beer that was offered to him, and opened the cap. He didn't really enjoy drinking, but as it was expected of him not only as a foreigner, but also as a part of the group, he didn't have much choice. He sipped it a bit, and hoped nobody noticed his lack of enthusiasm.
Description of Voice: A bit deeper and masculine than one would expect from his appearance due to his speech patterns, but otherwise pretty regular when you don't count the slight accent. Despite being a foreigner he has perfectly fluent English, which may embarrass him when he speaks to people who tend to be a bit more loose with their grammar.
Physical Appearance:Henri has light-brown hair that he keeps short, green eyes, and is pretty average in build. He tends to wear a sleeved blue and white shirt and jeans, and wears black shoes. He's a bit self-conscious about a spot on his wrist he got due to an accident and his arm had to be supported by a metal rod. |
1,311 | 27 | 5 | 1,559 | 209 | Oh, Mélanie, Paul said in surprise, putting on a friendly smile when she approached him, "Yeah, I thought I was, I was a little worried I took the wrong bus. But since you're here too I must've found the right place. I'm just not sure which way the cabin is though. I was gonna ask around for directions but there's barely anyone here."
As they talked, two more people soon appeared. Two guys, one slightly taller than him and the other slightly shorter, walked up to them, with the taller guy introducing himself.
"Anything out here would look beautiful compared to the city." Paul agreed with a small grin. To be honest he wasn't all that wrong. The city was nice but it was drab, crowded, and smoggy. Even if he was a bit anxious to be in the great outdoors for the first time ever, it was already very refreshing for him. "I'm Paul," he continued, reaching a hand out to shake Jim's, "And yeah, we're here for Victoria. This is Mélanie," he nodded towards her, "We have a class together, and she invited me along." He was going to say she was his friend, but he didn't want to assume so in case she didn't see them as friends. They still didn't really know each other too well, after all.
Paul noted how Jim said he was invited by a different guy. So far, that sounded like a total of four guys that would be at the cabin, with only two girls. The gender ratio was a little off balance here, but maybe there would be another girl or two that would be arriving as well. Besides, these two guys seemed nice enough so far anyway. Though Jim's friend seemed to be a bit shy and was hanging back from the group. | Name: Paul Hera
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Height: 5"10
Major: English
Occupation: Freelance Newspaper Journalist
Hobby: Writing, reading, going for walks, relaxing at a park, being sarcastic and snarky
Personal Theme-Music: Moonsetter
Example of Speech: "I'm going to laugh when one of you guys inevitably hurt yourself doing something dumb."
Example of Action: Paul couldn't help but roll his eyes at the others. He sighed, eventually agreeing to go along with their idea.
Description of Voice: His voice is a bit low-pitched, and calm sounding, if not a bit impatient at times. When he's teasing or being snarky, you can practically hear the sarcasm dripping off his voice.
Physical Appearance: He's light-skinned with an average but trim body type. He has somewhat short but unkempt black hair, as well as dark blue eyes. He has glasses, though he almost never wears them and prefers contacts instead. His clothes are often casual wear, such as a jeans and T-shirt combo, though dresses more professionally when working or meeting up with friends in order to make a good impression. |
1,312 | 27 | 6 | 1,860 | 875 | Dominic sighed contentedly as a light breeze picked up and blew against the back of his neck. He zipped up and turned away from the tree he had just unceremoniously relieved himself on. He walked slowly back to the road and the jeep parked on the side, its drivers door ajar. Before getting in once more he stretched a bit, loosening up his body. He climbed back in and shut the door. He reached over to the floor in front of the passenger's seat searching for a bottle of hand sanitizer he had seen roll down there a few hours earlier. Finding it, he grabbed it and quickly got back into his seat. In doing so, he nearly knocked the plastic bottle out of the cup holder. Though the liter bottle had been full of water earlier, it now held some discarded sunflower seed shells. He squeezed some of the hand sanitizer into his hand a rubbed it in, the alcohol smell temporarily blocking out the scents of the plants and flowers around him.
Once he felt clean once more, Dominic shifted out of park and got going down the small road once more. The sun glinted off his sunglasses and the wind lightly pushed at the bill of his hat, a light attempt to pull it off his head. Dom grinned. This feeling right here was why he had left his crappy secondhand sedan at home and borrowed his brother's less-crappy secondhand jeep for the summer. Though he'd spent some time with Victoria and seen her out a bit, he had to admit he was surprised she felt she knew him well enough to invite him out to the cabin for the summer. It was college and the idea of girls coming on strong wasn't entirely foreign to him, but it really had seemed genuine when she came to him with her idea to spend the summer in a cabin with some friends. He initially invited Jim, an old friend from high school who he'd recently reconnected with. Eventually that meant inviting the his cousin Henri. He'd met the guy just before the trip and he seemed pretty chill. The more the merrier, right?
Up ahead, a few small buildings came into view. Was this the stop? He wasn't entirely sure, but the length of time he had been driving seemed about right. He approached slowly, and he could eventually make out a store called Ben's and a small group of people outside. Could they be his group? Or perhaps some local kids? He wondered if there were any people their own age around to speak of. He pulled up to the store and parked the jeep, noticing that Jim and Henri were definitely among the group. He grinned. Hopefully they were too involved in their conversation to bother to check who it was in the jeep. He banged on the horn once quickly followed by a prolonged honk. With a chuckle, Dominic climbed out of the jeep and walked over to the group, his arms held out. "Jim! Henri! Good to see you made it!" He threw an arm around each of their shoulder's pulling them in. He then removed his right arm from around Henri and gestured to the other two. "Are you two going to be joining us at the cabin?" He looked from Paul to Mélanie. "Either way, a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dominic," he continued, offering out his hand. | Name: Dominic Rocha
Age: 20
Sex:Male
Gender: Cis
Height: 5'7"
Major: Engineering
Occupation: student promoter for local entertainment company
Hobby: Fitness, graphic design, partying, recently took up gardening
Personal Theme-Music: SomethingALaMode - Versailles No Bara (The Bloody Beetroots Remix)
Example of Speech: "Man, I'd make a move on her, but you been drooling since we walked in! Get on it buddy!"
Example of Action: Dominic ran at his buddies, wrapping an arm around each as he plunged into the lake, attempting to drag them both in with him. Resurfacing, he shook water out of his hair, laughing out loud.
Description of Voice: Loud and bold, Dominic has trouble using his "inside voice". He has a deep voice, but its warm and playful, welcoming any to come talk to him assuming he's not giving them a good-natured ribbing.
Physical Appearance: Dominic has light skin with curly brown hair that he keeps relatively short. He has a short beard of the same color which he also keeps short and well-trimmed. His eyes are a dark green. He stands somewhat short for his age. Despite that he is quite stocky, having a broad chest and shoulders earned through a strict fitness regimen. He likes to look his best and is typically professionally dressed, but when relaxed he enjoys colorful clothing and he does not shy away from standing out. |
1,313 | 27 | 7 | 2,344 | 303 | “Guess you should be glad I’m here to rescue you eh?” She said with a grin. “Victoria gave me some directions, but we should probably start walking, don’t want to be the last ones to arrive.” For someone who’s supposed to be this ethereal philosopher type, Mélanie always tried to be as punctual as possible. She adjusted the guitar on her back before turning around.
It seemed that the two humanities students would not be the last ones to arrive after all, as two men had walked up, introducing themselves as other guests of Victoria’s. One of them introduced himself as Jim, while the other remained silent. Jim towered over Mélanie and his build was evidence that he wasn’t one to just laze around the house. The other looked vaguely European but Mélanie couldn’t be entirely sure from where, or if he even was from Europe in the first place.
After Paul’s introduction, Mélanie spoke up. “Allo Jim,” she said with a bit of an awkward wave in the direction of the two men, as much as Mélanie loved meeting new people, the introductions rarely went exactly to plan. She hoped she’d make up for it as the summer went on.
Mélanie jumped at the honk of the horn, she hadn’t even really noticed the Jeep pulling in to the lot. The man who stepped out was yet another well built man, this one significantly shorter than Jim the giant. He introduced himself as Dominic, presumably the “Dom” Jim had mentioned earlier. “Oui, we’ll be seeing each other quite a bit this summer I assume.” Mélanie said with a smile before shaking Dominic’s hand. “I’m Mélanie, this is a friend of mine, Paul.” She looked at the group, which consisted of quite a bit of testosterone to say the least, though she assumed that they’d be alright, none of them seemed obnoxious on first impressions. “Well, I think we should, uh… ‘get a move on’ as you English speakers say, don’t want to leave Victoria waiting.” | Name: Mélanie Bouchard
Age: 19
Sex: AFAB
Gender: Female
Height: 5’5
Major: Philosophy
Occupation: Stocks Groceries
Hobby: Amatuer singer-songwriter (of the folk variety), record collector, book reader, poetry writer
Personal Theme-Music: Erik Satie - Gymnopédie No.1
Speech: “I went to France once, and it was cool and all that, but no one could really... understand the Québécois accent, so I just decided that Montréal was the better place for me to speak my language.”
Action: The café’s quiet today She thought to herself as she admired the stillness of her surroundings. Her gaze changed to focus on the street outside the window. The sun shone brightly as she took a sip from the slowly cooling coffee in front of her. It was then when she noticed a familiar woman crossing the street. A smile grew on Mélanie’s face as she gave a subtle wave in the woman’s direction.
Description of Voice: A bit lower for a woman, Mélanie’s voice still holds remnants of her native language, leading her to have a slight French accent. Although her vocabulary is pretty comprehensive, she can still get held up on some of the longer words, leaving her to pause and think about what to say next.
Physical Appearance: Mélanie is a skinny woman with long and wavy dirty blonde hair, usually done up in a messy bun. Her eyes a radiant green, displayed behind a pair of browline glasses. Her earlobes are pierced, with her right ear sporting a cartilage piercing. Her usual dress is a pair of tight jeans with holes in the knees, and some kind of flannel over a t-shirt or tank top, though there are times when she dresses up it is only really for special occasions. |
1,314 | 27 | 8 | 2,441 | 646 | Mélanie. Paul, Jim said, a nod at each of them and a grin. He shook Paul's hand, but the girl didn't seem up much for a handshake so he let it slide. Jim wasn't up for forcing himself upon anyone. "I can't say I disagree Paul, can't say I disagree. You guys ever been fishing? I read there's a great lake here, serene. Stunning, not that it surprises me. Fish in abundance. I haven't been fishing, in, well damn, years. We're here for a while, might as well make the most of it," he laughed, not a cold 'let's get this over with' snigger, but a hearty 'summer is here, let's get it on' chuckle. Jim opened the side pocket of his rucksack and pulled out a pair of aviators, planting them in front of his eyes.
Mélanie's off-kilter accent intrigued Jim. It wasn't American, but he couldn't particularly place it. Italian? French? "I love your accent, but where's it from? European, I assume?" he asked tentatively. He didn't want to offend anyone at this early stage in their holiday, nor did he want to come off as brash. Jim wasn't brash, but he was forward when he had to be. He had a way of finding out what he wanted to find. Most people found the intensity in his words enough to convince them that he truly did want to know the answer. His movements had been specially tailored to create an air of confidence but also of care. Rarely did he do something or say something and not mean it. When he asked a question, he wanted the answer. When he laughed, he was enjoying himself. When he kissed a girl, he kissed the girl. Jim was a man of doing.
Jim was basking in the sunlight, letting it splash down his shirt and warm his chest when the horn startled him. He skittered on the gravel until he turned around and saw Dominic Rocha in his Jeep. "Dom, you ass! Great to see you, my man, great to see you! How long has it been you reckon?" Jim exclaimed, wrapping his arm around the neck of the guy who walked up behind him. He had found Dominic through a friend of a friend of a friend, so to speak. Back when they were kids the were great friends, but people had to move and friendships are difficult to maintain over distance's it seemed. Standing next to Jim were two examples of that. Or maybe there was just a common denominator here; Jim. That saddened him. But the coming months were for friendships, fun, and whatever else may come. Jim looked forward to that. To it all. To everything.
Jim listened to what the blonde girl had to say. "Sure. Is there anyone else we have to wait for? All of our party is here, you two are present, and I'm assuming our gracious host is at the cabin," he said. He didn't know how many people were invited. For all Jim knew this was going to be a toga party from Animal House. Or Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Or it could be perfectly normal. But life never happens like it should on paper. He was fully prepared for something to become a sordid mess, and even more prepared for a boat load of weird. Whatever. Roll with the punches. | Name: James 'Jim' Brody
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Height: 6'1"
Major: Astrophysics
Occupation: Waiter at a local restaraunt
Hobby: Swimming, Jim is a huge swimming fan.
Personal Theme-Music: Ludovico Einaudi - Experience
Example of Speech: "I genuinely believe, 100%, that aliens are real. Are you kidding? Seriously? Where's your proof, goddammit!"
Example of Action: Jim sat in the chair, fingers twitching, eyes focusing on the girl across the room like a laser tracking beacon. "Do it," she said. He stood up, and slowly strutted his way to her. Body tense, eyes locked, footsteps careful. He leaned down, one hand softly cradling the velvety skin of her neck, the other combing her hair behind her ear, a glowering intensity between the two. His hand moved behind her head and pulled out a quarter. His lips moved closer to her ear and breathed, "Ta-da."
Description of Voice: Intense, passion behind every word he says. Not deep, but not high pitched either. Enough to give the impression that he isn't a boy, and not a man, but someone who should always stay a teenager and enjoy life.
Physical Appearance: Standing around 6'1" and with an athletic, lean build to help his swimming. Dirty blond hair, icy blue eyes and a long 5-inch scar running diagonally on his back from when he was a kid and fell out of a tree and landed on debris left underneath it. |
1,315 | 27 | 9 | 181 | 1,997 | Once the other people were done introducing themselves, Henri did the same, a bit embarrassed about being late about it. He was getting strange looks for staying passive in the conversation, and he wanted to rectify that while he had the chance. "I'm Jimi's cousin Henri. Nice to meet you." He had a habit of calling his cousin Jimi as a joke, referencing a F1 driver from his country. It was also more natural for him to pronounce it with an additional i-letter when he was just a kid, and never had a reason to change it.
Henri thought Paul was a nice guy, and shared his apparent appreciation for nature, or so he interpreted his words. Mélanie was also nice, and he thought her little wave was actually cute. He was relieved to know he wasn't the only accented person in the group. For a moment Henri wanted to ask her if she was of French descent as her accent hinted at, but he then felt it was too forward of him, especially since they just met. Jim apparently didn't have any such reservations as he did ask her, which did put him off a bit. He was glad to see that Dominic also made it there. "Hellou Dom. That's a nice jeeppi you got there." He's only known Dominic for a couple of days, and while he was a bit exuberant he was fun to be around with. Henri knew his accent was coming strong now, but he decided not to be as self-conscious about it as he usually would have been.
Once Jim finished speaking, Henri started walking in the direction of the cabin. Though his orienteering skills weren't like they used to be back in his days of military service, he could still recognize the sound of splashing water. "We shouldn't keep our gracious host waiting any longer. I'm pretty sure the cabin's this way." They've been standing there for a while, and he was anxious to see the place they would be staying at. He shuddered when his memories went back to the cold weeks of winter he had to spend outdoors, and was glad to know he didn't have to suffer through that again, instead enjoying a hot weather and nights under a solid roof. | Name: Henri Nieminen
Age: 20
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Height: 5’9
Major: Foreign major (Information technology)
Occupation: N/A
Hobby: Miniature-painting and jogging
Personal Theme-Music: The Lord of the Rings - Rivendell/Evenstar Theme
Speech: "Yeah, I'd rather not do that again. Tents can be a pain to set up, especially in the middle of winter. Not that there's anything wrong with outdoor activities."
Action: Henri took the can of beer that was offered to him, and opened the cap. He didn't really enjoy drinking, but as it was expected of him not only as a foreigner, but also as a part of the group, he didn't have much choice. He sipped it a bit, and hoped nobody noticed his lack of enthusiasm.
Description of Voice: A bit deeper and masculine than one would expect from his appearance due to his speech patterns, but otherwise pretty regular when you don't count the slight accent. Despite being a foreigner he has perfectly fluent English, which may embarrass him when he speaks to people who tend to be a bit more loose with their grammar.
Physical Appearance:Henri has light-brown hair that he keeps short, green eyes, and is pretty average in build. He tends to wear a sleeved blue and white shirt and jeans, and wears black shoes. He's a bit self-conscious about a spot on his wrist he got due to an accident and his arm had to be supported by a metal rod. |
1,316 | 27 | 10 | 1,559 | 209 | Nah, never fished, Paul admitted to Jim, "I'd like to though, I heard the lake was beautiful too." Make the most of it, huh? That's what he wanted, he figured.
He'd almost said he'd never even been out in nature before, but he didn't want to come off as 'that guy'. You know, the one who obviously didn't belong out here. Everything out here was going to be new to him. He was going to make the most of it though, and try not to look like a complete fool who didn't know what he was doing. Honestly he just really wanted to leave a good first impression on these people.
"I guess I should be," Paul chuckled in response to Mélanie, "Kinda sad I needed rescuing the moment I got out here though, huh?" He was about to respond to her about leaving like she suggested, but a fourth person soon arrived. Paul jumped when the guy honked his car horn, silently cursing to himself. What the hell? What kind of ass just does that? Paul's questions were answered when Jim apparently recognized the guy. Ah. So this was Dom. He was the shortest guy here, but also the most well-built. Overall, as the guy introduced himself, Paul got very bro-ish vibes from him. He wasn't really looking forward to spending a whole summer with this guy...but, the words "make the most of it" appeared in his mind, so he internally sighed and externally put on a friendly face. No point in being unfriendly with someone you were going to be living with for the next couple months.
"...Right," Paul affirmed to Dominic when Mélanie told him who they were, "It's uh, nice to meet you too." He shook Dominic's hand, who had a strong grip as expected.
Oh. He almost didn't catch it. Mélanie called Paul her friend. Well that confirmed it then, saying they were friends was alright then. Something about that helped him feel a little more at ease.
Mélanie and Jim soon talked about leaving once again, so Paul tossed in his two cents.
"Yeah, we probably should leave now. I think this is everyone...well, it should be. I was told other than me and our host, there would be four others coming along at the very least. By my count, that's everyone here. Maybe others will come later though, who knows." He shrugged. "If more people end up coming then hopefully it'll be a girl. It's kind of a sausage fest right now." Wow that was blunt.
By now, Jim's shy friend had finally introduced himself as well. He was Jim's cousin, Henri. Ah. He was foreign, that explained his demeanor, he must've felt a little out of place. Paul couldn't tell what his nationality was (unlike Mélanie, who he knew was French), but he definitely seemed European.
When Henri started walking off to presumably where the cabin was, Paul was a bit thrown off. Well you couldn't say the guy wasn't forward-thinking. It was just as well though, they'd all been standing there long enough. They could continue talking and getting to know each other more at the cabin.
"Yeah, we should probably get going now," Paul nodded in agreement, and was about to go down the dirt path as well, but stopped himself when he saw someone walk out of the tire replacement service shop. It was a girl who looked about their age, was she here for the summer break as well? He decided to wait, in case she was another of Victoria's invites, so that she could introduce herself. | Name: Paul Hera
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Height: 5"10
Major: English
Occupation: Freelance Newspaper Journalist
Hobby: Writing, reading, going for walks, relaxing at a park, being sarcastic and snarky
Personal Theme-Music: Moonsetter
Example of Speech: "I'm going to laugh when one of you guys inevitably hurt yourself doing something dumb."
Example of Action: Paul couldn't help but roll his eyes at the others. He sighed, eventually agreeing to go along with their idea.
Description of Voice: His voice is a bit low-pitched, and calm sounding, if not a bit impatient at times. When he's teasing or being snarky, you can practically hear the sarcasm dripping off his voice.
Physical Appearance: He's light-skinned with an average but trim body type. He has somewhat short but unkempt black hair, as well as dark blue eyes. He has glasses, though he almost never wears them and prefers contacts instead. His clothes are often casual wear, such as a jeans and T-shirt combo, though dresses more professionally when working or meeting up with friends in order to make a good impression. |
1,317 | 27 | 11 | 1,086 | 69 | Deafeat
Casey stared at the word on her computer screen incredulously. Slumped in her leather chair she blew a stray hair out of her face. She was in the middle of deciding if she wanted to play another match or smoke a bowl when her father knocked on her door. She ignored it. Smoking sounded nice but she wasn't sure if she wanted to do that before she went to whatshername's cabin. On the other hand, playing another game just sounded boring... Another knock. Ignored. She kinda wanted to draw but kinda didn't. Casey's constant struggle in life- trying to decide how to kill time. She opened her desk drawer to see how much she had left to smoke. About a quarter of an ounce... Another knock. She had plenty to spare and thus decided smoking and drawing was how she'd kill most of the day.
"Casey, I know youre in there. Either you open the door or I open it for you."
Rolling her eyes Casey shut her drawer and stood to open the door when her father walked in anyway. The tall broad man could barely fit through the door frame.
"Jesus, Ben." She said. She called her father Ben when she wanted to get under his skin.
"I knocked three times. What were you doing?" Her father asked, his eyes scanning the dark room.
"What do you want?" She ignored the question.
"Otis needs some help with a couple things and I've got to work on fixing a few things downstairs so I told him I'd send you over."
"Awesome. Thanks."
Otis was the owner of the Tire Replacement shop across the street. A Fat bumbling idiot who also happened to be a complete pervert. Casey use to have a crush on his son, a fairly decent looking boy, and thus found her way over there often when she was younger. However, his son wasn't there anymore and it was just Mr. Otis. The perv.
"Well, you better get goin if you wanna be done any time soon." He grinned before turning to leave. "Didn't you say you had plans for this afternoon?"
Casey grumbled as her hulking father made his way downstairs. He could be such a jerk sometimes and yet still had enough charm so that you couldn't hate him. She shut her computer and opened her drawer to take one last look at what her day coulda been...
---
"Thanks Casey. Your help is always appreciated."
Casey closed the door behind her without saying a word. Three hours of that man basically making things up just so he could look at her. She wished it weren't summer. She wished she hadn't worn shorts and a tank top. She wished she wasn't sweating and covered in grease. She wished...
She was so caught up in her disgust she nearly walked headfirst into the group of people standing outside her father's store. Five of them to be exact. One girl, with a grunge style to her and a guitar case on her back. Then there were four guys all around her. Casey thought of a watering hole. In any case, they all looked to be her age and it wasn't very often people her age came out to her store. She wondered if they were friends of that girl... she really needed to remember her name.
"Uhhh, hello. Are you guys lost?" She asked, a hand covering her brow to block the sun as she tried to figure out who they were. | Name:Casey Riot
Age:19
Sex:Female
Gender:Cis
Height:5'1"
Major: N/A
Occupation: Store Clerk
Hobby: Doing whatever she wants. This might include sleeping, smoking, video games, skating, drawing, and very rarely when her father makes her, hunting.
Personal Theme-Music: Megitsune
Example of Speech: "I mean, I'm just here to have fun."
Example of Action: The music blaring behind her, Casey nods her head to the beat while working at her piece. Before deciding what color the background should be she takes a long hit from her one-hitter. "Grey," she decides. "A warm grey."
Description of Voice: Casey isn't soft spoken but she is not loud either. A better word to describe her voice is relaxed. However, even with her relaxed voice, you can still hear a streak of mischief. Or maybe thats just her constant grin. |
1,318 | 27 | 12 | 2,344 | 303 | Mélanie giggled a bit at being called European, it wasn’t something that she heard rarely, but she still found it funny for some reason. “No, not European, Canadienne. Québecois to be specific.” Mélanie then realized that her laughter might come across as pompous or rude in some way, so she backpedaled a bit. “It’s okay though, everyone always thinks I’m from France down here, but anyone from France can tell that I’m not from there.”
Henri’s accent confirmed Mélanie’s suspicions of his European descent, definitely of some nordic country, though she wasn’t sure of the exact one, she was sure it would come about as the summer continued. She smiled warmly at him when his accent became more apparent, knowing how hard it can be sometimes when around fairly anglicised people.
Mélanie smiled to Paul as he spoke about needing to be rescued. “Hey, everybody needs their own Jeanne d’Arc every once in a while.” She said with a grin.
As they were about to leave another girl arrived to greet the group. Thank god for some estrogen to break through the masculinity on display. She was obviously a local, because why else would she be trying to help them find something. Mélanie spoke up. “Hi, I don’t think we’re lost specifically, but if you know where the, um… Cottage, that Victoria Rohde is staying at we’d appreciate the help getting there, I think.” | Name: Mélanie Bouchard
Age: 19
Sex: AFAB
Gender: Female
Height: 5’5
Major: Philosophy
Occupation: Stocks Groceries
Hobby: Amatuer singer-songwriter (of the folk variety), record collector, book reader, poetry writer
Personal Theme-Music: Erik Satie - Gymnopédie No.1
Speech: “I went to France once, and it was cool and all that, but no one could really... understand the Québécois accent, so I just decided that Montréal was the better place for me to speak my language.”
Action: The café’s quiet today She thought to herself as she admired the stillness of her surroundings. Her gaze changed to focus on the street outside the window. The sun shone brightly as she took a sip from the slowly cooling coffee in front of her. It was then when she noticed a familiar woman crossing the street. A smile grew on Mélanie’s face as she gave a subtle wave in the woman’s direction.
Description of Voice: A bit lower for a woman, Mélanie’s voice still holds remnants of her native language, leading her to have a slight French accent. Although her vocabulary is pretty comprehensive, she can still get held up on some of the longer words, leaving her to pause and think about what to say next.
Physical Appearance: Mélanie is a skinny woman with long and wavy dirty blonde hair, usually done up in a messy bun. Her eyes a radiant green, displayed behind a pair of browline glasses. Her earlobes are pierced, with her right ear sporting a cartilage piercing. Her usual dress is a pair of tight jeans with holes in the knees, and some kind of flannel over a t-shirt or tank top, though there are times when she dresses up it is only really for special occasions. |
1,319 | 27 | 13 | 1,086 | 69 | “Hi, I don’t think we’re lost specifically, but if you know where the, um… Cottage, that Victoria Rohde is staying at we’d appreciate the help getting there, I think.”
"Victoria! That's her name!" Casey said as she finally remembered the girl's name. She had only met her earlier that day and had completely forgotten. "That was bothering me..." Casey's voice trailed off as the others gave her a rather puzzling look. "Uhh, yeah. The cottage. I was gonna head there in a few actually. That Victoria girl invited me over earlier today. I just need a quick shower," she looked at the black grease marks on her arms and tank top. "You might wanna wait for me. You see this road?" she pointed down the road, "It's all kinds of straight. You wouldn't want to get lost," she grinned.
"No but seriously, if someone would wait," she looked at the three guys, "it would be great. I wouldn't wanna have to walk alone. There's, y'know, bears and... well, yeah." She made her way passed the group and toward the store. "This is my place actually and it'll take all of ten minutes." More like thirty but she wasn't gonna say that. "You don't all have to wait. But if you want, you can come in for a few." She opened the front door in a welcoming gesture. | Name:Casey Riot
Age:19
Sex:Female
Gender:Cis
Height:5'1"
Major: N/A
Occupation: Store Clerk
Hobby: Doing whatever she wants. This might include sleeping, smoking, video games, skating, drawing, and very rarely when her father makes her, hunting.
Personal Theme-Music: Megitsune
Example of Speech: "I mean, I'm just here to have fun."
Example of Action: The music blaring behind her, Casey nods her head to the beat while working at her piece. Before deciding what color the background should be she takes a long hit from her one-hitter. "Grey," she decides. "A warm grey."
Description of Voice: Casey isn't soft spoken but she is not loud either. A better word to describe her voice is relaxed. However, even with her relaxed voice, you can still hear a streak of mischief. Or maybe thats just her constant grin. |
1,320 | 27 | 14 | 2,441 | 646 | Dear sweet Jesus above, that giggle is adorable. "Oh, Canada! Nice! I have an auntie there, but she sounds less French and more... American I suppose. Wow, that sounds awful," Jim laughed. He could only laugh. He wasn't sure if it were racist or not, but if he played it off as bad wording or a poor joke it may slide easier. "It's alright, don't worry about it. Excuse my cultural ignorance," he replied to her apology. He watched as the group turned to walk up the road, but was startled by yet another voice. A female voice. Oh good, less junk in the inbox, he thought privately. The ratio stood at 4:3, guys outnumbering gals. Unfortunate odds. Jim had never been totally successful with the fairer sex, often relying on the girl liking him as much as he her. He wasn't particularly well versed in managing to win a girl over. Dom, however, did not have that issue. He was all talk and the women adored him. Jim hadn't seen Henri in action before, due to the distance, but if the shy personality he was displaying at the moment signaled anything it was that he was going to be the life of the party once he got a drink in him. He didn't know anything about Paul besides his name. He seemed a lot like Jim though, self-contained but not introverted, outgoing but not the centre of attention.
Jim watched as the dark-haired mechanic babbled away. There was a certain... odour about her. Sweet and strong and... dank? Yeah, there was that smell he definitely smelled. She described the road they would have to travel to get to the cabin, a long winding road of straight where one step off the path would make you right next to the path and not lost at all. "I'll wait for you, I ain't afraid of no bears," Jim joked, putting his hands up like a boxer and balancing on his tip toes. He grinned and dropped his arms by his sides. "But if there are bunnies I'm not staying. You can fend for yourself. I got bit by a bunny once," Jim said, half-joking and half-explaining. They were cute but he sure wouldn't be trying to feed one ever again, not after it chomped through his right index finger nail in one swift motion when he was about six. Vicious little balls of adorable. "Henri, you want to come with me?" he asked his cousin, knowing the answer would be yes. Jim didn't feel comfortable leaving him alone with others he didn't know, and Henri would probably prefer to stay with Jim anyway. He turned to Dom. "Hey bud, can you take this for me? Put it in the room with nicest view," he said, glancing at the Canadian girl unconsciously and then swinging his backpack at his friend.
The swimmer followed the mechanic, Casey was her name, to her home. Nice by all standards, if not a little dusty on the outside from gravel and dust being ejected from underneath tires and the admittedly lacking wind to carry it to the outer walls of the house. He smiled as she welcomed them into her home. Stepping inside, it was nothing remarkable. No dead bodies hanging from the rafters, ready for carving. No inbred deformed mass murderer. Everything so far was horrifyingly normal, this house included. It was homey, with newspapers and tv remotes lying where they would in his house, a fully functioning washing machine, a cold fridge. It kinda flipped his whole perception of these backwater towns on Jim's head. Horror culture had been lying to him for years, apparently. According to real life, not every backwoods swamp town ate roadkill and murdered tourists. The idea of staying in these woods seemed much tamer, but also much more exciting now. "You have a lovely house, Casey," Jim said as he leaned against the kitchen counter, taking in all the sights and smells of the homestead. | Name: James 'Jim' Brody
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Height: 6'1"
Major: Astrophysics
Occupation: Waiter at a local restaraunt
Hobby: Swimming, Jim is a huge swimming fan.
Personal Theme-Music: Ludovico Einaudi - Experience
Example of Speech: "I genuinely believe, 100%, that aliens are real. Are you kidding? Seriously? Where's your proof, goddammit!"
Example of Action: Jim sat in the chair, fingers twitching, eyes focusing on the girl across the room like a laser tracking beacon. "Do it," she said. He stood up, and slowly strutted his way to her. Body tense, eyes locked, footsteps careful. He leaned down, one hand softly cradling the velvety skin of her neck, the other combing her hair behind her ear, a glowering intensity between the two. His hand moved behind her head and pulled out a quarter. His lips moved closer to her ear and breathed, "Ta-da."
Description of Voice: Intense, passion behind every word he says. Not deep, but not high pitched either. Enough to give the impression that he isn't a boy, and not a man, but someone who should always stay a teenager and enjoy life.
Physical Appearance: Standing around 6'1" and with an athletic, lean build to help his swimming. Dirty blond hair, icy blue eyes and a long 5-inch scar running diagonally on his back from when he was a kid and fell out of a tree and landed on debris left underneath it. |
1,321 | 27 | 15 | 181 | 1,997 | The few steps Henri took were all he managed to take before he was distracted by the arrival of a greasy girl. She was most likely working here, considering her attire, and Henri didn't judge her for that; he would be lightening his own clothing without a moment of hesitation if the temperature was going to rise any higher. Anything in the 25+ Celsius range would be uncomfortably hot to him.
He didn't catch a lot of the talk that happened since he went ahead a bit, but from what Henri could gather the girl was also going to the cabin, but she'll first clean up. In a surprising move she invited them to join her, the reason being fear of bears, which made Henri lift an eyebrow. Bears actually fear humans for most of the time, so they shouldn't be this much of a problem. Then again, maybe bears are more aggressive across the sea, and he just didn't know. Another thought came to him; usually women would be embarrassed by their disheveled looks and would hurry up to pretty themselves before presenting themselves to other people, but she was different. Getting their hands dirty and not caring if they looked worse for the wear was something she liked in women, though he would never admit it.
Jim made a joke about bunnies (though Henri has seen a hare the size of a dog, so even that joke had some merit to it) and invited Henri to come along. "Of course, serkku." For the moment he didn't want to become separated from Jim, since he didn't know anyone else that well, and would have left him pretty isolated from the rest. Following him, Henri placed his baggage in Dom's Jeep. "Thanks, man. We'll see you later."
Henri followed Casey and Jim, and they went inside. It was well kept, all things considered, and Henri had nothing else to note about the building. He leaned next to the door and nodded to Jim's remark about Casey's house. | Name: Henri Nieminen
Age: 20
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Height: 5’9
Major: Foreign major (Information technology)
Occupation: N/A
Hobby: Miniature-painting and jogging
Personal Theme-Music: The Lord of the Rings - Rivendell/Evenstar Theme
Speech: "Yeah, I'd rather not do that again. Tents can be a pain to set up, especially in the middle of winter. Not that there's anything wrong with outdoor activities."
Action: Henri took the can of beer that was offered to him, and opened the cap. He didn't really enjoy drinking, but as it was expected of him not only as a foreigner, but also as a part of the group, he didn't have much choice. He sipped it a bit, and hoped nobody noticed his lack of enthusiasm.
Description of Voice: A bit deeper and masculine than one would expect from his appearance due to his speech patterns, but otherwise pretty regular when you don't count the slight accent. Despite being a foreigner he has perfectly fluent English, which may embarrass him when he speaks to people who tend to be a bit more loose with their grammar.
Physical Appearance:Henri has light-brown hair that he keeps short, green eyes, and is pretty average in build. He tends to wear a sleeved blue and white shirt and jeans, and wears black shoes. He's a bit self-conscious about a spot on his wrist he got due to an accident and his arm had to be supported by a metal rod. |
1,322 | 27 | 16 | 1,559 | 209 | There were a few things for Paul to note after those exchanges: One, he was really glad another girl would be coming along to even out the boy-girl ratio. Two, Paul was slightly embarrassed for having assumed Mélanie was French (her joke about being his Jeanne d'Arc, though it got a humorous chuckle out of him, did not help his confusion), though he was glad for not saying such assumptions out loud. And three, it appeared that the group would already be splitting up, if only for a short time, so that the second girl who was invited (Paul hadn't caught her name yet unfortunately) could come by to the cabin later with some company.
"Well, I guess we should finally get going then," Paul told the other two that were still there. He turned to Dominic, and asked, "You mind giving us a ride, big guy? If there's really bears in these woods and along the path, then I'd kinda rather be in the safety of a car than be walking down the road." | Name: Paul Hera
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Height: 5"10
Major: English
Occupation: Freelance Newspaper Journalist
Hobby: Writing, reading, going for walks, relaxing at a park, being sarcastic and snarky
Personal Theme-Music: Moonsetter
Example of Speech: "I'm going to laugh when one of you guys inevitably hurt yourself doing something dumb."
Example of Action: Paul couldn't help but roll his eyes at the others. He sighed, eventually agreeing to go along with their idea.
Description of Voice: His voice is a bit low-pitched, and calm sounding, if not a bit impatient at times. When he's teasing or being snarky, you can practically hear the sarcasm dripping off his voice.
Physical Appearance: He's light-skinned with an average but trim body type. He has somewhat short but unkempt black hair, as well as dark blue eyes. He has glasses, though he almost never wears them and prefers contacts instead. His clothes are often casual wear, such as a jeans and T-shirt combo, though dresses more professionally when working or meeting up with friends in order to make a good impression. |
1,323 | 27 | 17 | 1,086 | 69 | I'll wait for you, I ain't afraid of no bears. But if there are bunnies I'm not staying. You can fend for yourself. I got bit by a bunny once, one of the boys replied. She wondered how serious he was about being afraid of rabbits but gave a small laugh anyways. "Henri, you want to come with me?" The other boy, apparently Henri, agreed. Serkku. She wondered if that was the other one's name. "Awesome! Thanks." Casey said smiling. Henri and Serkku dropped their bags in the jeep before joining her.
Casey led the two boys into the convenience store. "Upstairs is the apartment," she said and ushered them up a small staircase to the right of the entrance. "Who are they? I've never seen them before," Ben asked as they passed. "My crack dealers," Casey called down to her father who simply grumbled.
Now upstairs they were in the apartment. The stairs led into the living room where the new television and the obviously old and jealous couch were locked in epic battle for control of the room. Keeping the couch and the television at bay was the small coffee table and watching the three from afar was a tall bookshelf. Then, there was the kitchen separated from the living room by a half-wall. The half-wall stood about three feet high creating a sort of window between the two rooms. Finally, from where the two boys stood, they could see a dark hallway which led passed the bathroom and to the two bedrooms.
As the boys looked around the house Casey grabbed two cold water bottles from the fridge. "You have a lovely house, Casey," Serkku said. Casey could tell her was somehow relieved. What was he expecting? Henri nodded. "Well, thanks. Here, these are for you," she gave them the waters. "You can sit down but don't screw with the tv. My dad is weird and gets crazy when people start messing with it."
Casey disappeared down the hall leaving the two in the living room. She started the water and grabbed a towel before going to her room. There she quickly changed, wrapped herself in the towel, and grabbed clean clothes. She thought for a moment about having two random strangers in her house while she showered... Maybe she should have left them downstairs. She shrugged and decided if anything happened they weren't getting anywhere fast. They lived in the middle of nowhere and Ben was just downstairs. By the time she got back to the bathroom the water was just starting to get warm.
Just before getting out she peeked her head out of the bathroom door. "Remember, no tv!" she called to them. | Name:Casey Riot
Age:19
Sex:Female
Gender:Cis
Height:5'1"
Major: N/A
Occupation: Store Clerk
Hobby: Doing whatever she wants. This might include sleeping, smoking, video games, skating, drawing, and very rarely when her father makes her, hunting.
Personal Theme-Music: Megitsune
Example of Speech: "I mean, I'm just here to have fun."
Example of Action: The music blaring behind her, Casey nods her head to the beat while working at her piece. Before deciding what color the background should be she takes a long hit from her one-hitter. "Grey," she decides. "A warm grey."
Description of Voice: Casey isn't soft spoken but she is not loud either. A better word to describe her voice is relaxed. However, even with her relaxed voice, you can still hear a streak of mischief. Or maybe thats just her constant grin. |
1,324 | 27 | 18 | 1,860 | 875 | After introducing himself, Dominic retreated from the conversation just a bit. There'd be plenty of time to get to know everyone at the cabin, and also he'd been told he could be overwhelming upon first meetings so he was trying to control that. More importantly though, was Jim. Dom was having too much fun watching him interact with Mélanie to interrupt. It was Henri who actually got the group moving, which was a bit surprising. Not two steps later though, another girl joined their group. This was turning out to be an interesting group indeed.
A grin crossed Dominic's face as the topic turned to bears. He wasn't too worried, but then again he'd be making his way to the cabin in the jeep. "Uh yeah, you two stay here and I'll drive the rest of us up to the cabin with our bags," he responded as he caught Jim's bag handily. Rearranging the bags and making room for those of Paul and Mélanie, Dominic nodded when Paul's suggested they get moving. "Yeah let's get going. We can just toss your stuff with the rest and we can get a move on. If you're worried about the bears though, I can honk the horn the whole way down the path. I'm sure that'll keep 'em away." With a low chortle, he grabbed Mélanie's suitcase and hoisted it into the back of the jeep. "You want me to grab that too, or you got it?" he asked pointing at her guitar case. "Friend of mine's real protective of his 'axe' so I wasn't sure." | Name: Dominic Rocha
Age: 20
Sex:Male
Gender: Cis
Height: 5'7"
Major: Engineering
Occupation: student promoter for local entertainment company
Hobby: Fitness, graphic design, partying, recently took up gardening
Personal Theme-Music: SomethingALaMode - Versailles No Bara (The Bloody Beetroots Remix)
Example of Speech: "Man, I'd make a move on her, but you been drooling since we walked in! Get on it buddy!"
Example of Action: Dominic ran at his buddies, wrapping an arm around each as he plunged into the lake, attempting to drag them both in with him. Resurfacing, he shook water out of his hair, laughing out loud.
Description of Voice: Loud and bold, Dominic has trouble using his "inside voice". He has a deep voice, but its warm and playful, welcoming any to come talk to him assuming he's not giving them a good-natured ribbing.
Physical Appearance: Dominic has light skin with curly brown hair that he keeps relatively short. He has a short beard of the same color which he also keeps short and well-trimmed. His eyes are a dark green. He stands somewhat short for his age. Despite that he is quite stocky, having a broad chest and shoulders earned through a strict fitness regimen. He likes to look his best and is typically professionally dressed, but when relaxed he enjoys colorful clothing and he does not shy away from standing out. |
1,325 | 27 | 19 | 2,344 | 303 | Mélanie giggled again at Jim’s apparent lack of knowledge about Canada. “Don’t worry about it, she must be from, uhm… Alberta or something. Maybe Toronto?” She attempted to see if anything would ring a bell with Jim but it seems as if they’ll have to pick up their geographical conversation a bit later.
Mélanie listened to the other girl talk, obviously flirting with some of the guys there. She watched as Jim and Henri walked into the convenience store and laughed when Paul mentioned the possibility of bears in the woods. “Come on, we’re not going to get attacked by any bears unless you mess with the little baby ones.” She grinned at Paul as the group moved towards the vehicle.
Dominic asked her about the guitar slung over her back. “No, I got it. I’m not, like, overprotective or anything, but I like to have it with me during transport you know? Don’t want any chance of it being broken if we hit a bump or something.” | Name: Mélanie Bouchard
Age: 19
Sex: AFAB
Gender: Female
Height: 5’5
Major: Philosophy
Occupation: Stocks Groceries
Hobby: Amatuer singer-songwriter (of the folk variety), record collector, book reader, poetry writer
Personal Theme-Music: Erik Satie - Gymnopédie No.1
Speech: “I went to France once, and it was cool and all that, but no one could really... understand the Québécois accent, so I just decided that Montréal was the better place for me to speak my language.”
Action: The café’s quiet today She thought to herself as she admired the stillness of her surroundings. Her gaze changed to focus on the street outside the window. The sun shone brightly as she took a sip from the slowly cooling coffee in front of her. It was then when she noticed a familiar woman crossing the street. A smile grew on Mélanie’s face as she gave a subtle wave in the woman’s direction.
Description of Voice: A bit lower for a woman, Mélanie’s voice still holds remnants of her native language, leading her to have a slight French accent. Although her vocabulary is pretty comprehensive, she can still get held up on some of the longer words, leaving her to pause and think about what to say next.
Physical Appearance: Mélanie is a skinny woman with long and wavy dirty blonde hair, usually done up in a messy bun. Her eyes a radiant green, displayed behind a pair of browline glasses. Her earlobes are pierced, with her right ear sporting a cartilage piercing. Her usual dress is a pair of tight jeans with holes in the knees, and some kind of flannel over a t-shirt or tank top, though there are times when she dresses up it is only really for special occasions. |
1,326 | 27 | 20 | 1,559 | 209 | Mélanie and Dominic seemed pretty confident that the bears wouldn't be any trouble. It hardly made him feel any better, seeing as he knew almost nothing about bears other than the fact that they hibernate in the winter, and have the capacity to eat people. That last thought made him shudder.
"If you guys say so, then fine," Paul eventually relented, "Either way, we'll be in the car, so we'll be fine." And so, the three of them climbed into the car. There was plenty of room, even with their luggage sharing space with them. Paul kept his messenger bag with him, his laptop was in it and he didn't want it to get jostled around during the ride.
"So..." Paul began to say as they sat in the car and got ready to go, "How do you two know, er, Victoria? That's her name right?" He definitely didn't want to call her by the wrong name when they made it to the cabin and met her. That would be awkward as hell, to say the least. | Name: Paul Hera
Age: 19
Sex: Male
Gender: Male
Height: 5"10
Major: English
Occupation: Freelance Newspaper Journalist
Hobby: Writing, reading, going for walks, relaxing at a park, being sarcastic and snarky
Personal Theme-Music: Moonsetter
Example of Speech: "I'm going to laugh when one of you guys inevitably hurt yourself doing something dumb."
Example of Action: Paul couldn't help but roll his eyes at the others. He sighed, eventually agreeing to go along with their idea.
Description of Voice: His voice is a bit low-pitched, and calm sounding, if not a bit impatient at times. When he's teasing or being snarky, you can practically hear the sarcasm dripping off his voice.
Physical Appearance: He's light-skinned with an average but trim body type. He has somewhat short but unkempt black hair, as well as dark blue eyes. He has glasses, though he almost never wears them and prefers contacts instead. His clothes are often casual wear, such as a jeans and T-shirt combo, though dresses more professionally when working or meeting up with friends in order to make a good impression. |
1,327 | 27 | 21 | 1,860 | 875 | As the group piled into the jeep, Paul still seemed to be worried about bears. The local girl had just been kidding right? An funny excuse to not walk alone. Dominic didn't know much about bears, but he was pretty sure they generally stayed away. "I don't know man, I hear bears really hate jeeps or something. Like bulls and the color red, you know? Just what I heard though, don't know anything about bears myself. But Mélanie seems to have the right idea. Don't bother 'em and they'll leave us alone."
Dominic turned around to make sure the baggage was all secure and not likely to fly out of the open jeep at any bump. He tucked his own backpack closer to the floor then nodded and turned around to start the engine. Over the sound of the the starting he heard, Paul ask about Victoria. "Oh Tori? Met her a few months back. She was at one of the club parties I was promoting. Hit it off, she introduced me to some people she was with. After that we kinda just became, uh, not friends, but we always say hi to each other? She's actually really cool to talk to for art and stuff. I was doing some design work for a friend of mine and she was real cool about helping me out with colors and stuff."
The jeep got moving, kicking up traces of dust and leaving behind the rest of their group in the small store. The road was not the smoothest but their slower pace meant it wasn't so bumpy that there was any real discomfort. The sun shone down, and though there was no roof on the jeep, the canopy of trees did a good job of keeping them mostly shaded. "Wait, so you don't know Tori?" he asked Paul. "Mélanie here invite you then? So you're partly the cause of that sausage-fest you mentioned earlier. Didn't think to invite any girls?" | Name: Dominic Rocha
Age: 20
Sex:Male
Gender: Cis
Height: 5'7"
Major: Engineering
Occupation: student promoter for local entertainment company
Hobby: Fitness, graphic design, partying, recently took up gardening
Personal Theme-Music: SomethingALaMode - Versailles No Bara (The Bloody Beetroots Remix)
Example of Speech: "Man, I'd make a move on her, but you been drooling since we walked in! Get on it buddy!"
Example of Action: Dominic ran at his buddies, wrapping an arm around each as he plunged into the lake, attempting to drag them both in with him. Resurfacing, he shook water out of his hair, laughing out loud.
Description of Voice: Loud and bold, Dominic has trouble using his "inside voice". He has a deep voice, but its warm and playful, welcoming any to come talk to him assuming he's not giving them a good-natured ribbing.
Physical Appearance: Dominic has light skin with curly brown hair that he keeps relatively short. He has a short beard of the same color which he also keeps short and well-trimmed. His eyes are a dark green. He stands somewhat short for his age. Despite that he is quite stocky, having a broad chest and shoulders earned through a strict fitness regimen. He likes to look his best and is typically professionally dressed, but when relaxed he enjoys colorful clothing and he does not shy away from standing out. |
1,328 | 28 | 0 | 1,489 | 1,400 | The sky above Shells town was clear and blue. There wasn't a cloud visible in any border of the horizon, because everyone of them was evaporated by the harsh sun beating down on the on the world below. The day was so bright even looking at the calm waters causes eyes to water and sun spots to coat a man's vision.
One such man, a tall old marine with a barrel chest, chestnut hair, and eyes like the grey scales of a dead fish winced after making the mistake, again of looking down at the ocean. "This blasted sea." He muttered. His face was gray, and his stomach was empty. Its contents were a few meters back, being fought over by a school of fish. "This blasted sea." He shook his head, trying to reign in what was coming, but failed. He dry heaved and kept on at it until he managed to dehydrate himself further. "How much longer?" The marine moaned, burying his face into his massive hands, hands that were too big for his form.
"A few more minutes sir." A tiny lieutenant standing by his side said. "You could see the island getting quiet large on the other side of the boat."
At that the marine's face went paler, but it couldn't be seen because of the hands in the way. He frantically shook his head. "Oh!" He moaned. "No. No. No. No. At the front its even worst." He shuddered. "Don't even remind me we've got a front to this thing."
"Yes sir." The tiny man sighed. His dark curly hair bobbed whenever he was annoyed.
"And what about our prisoner?" The man asked. He put a hand to his stomach, hoping the action would do something to relieve the storm but it didn't work and the motion just brought more bile to the back of his throat.
"Lillian!" The short man said, spitting the word out as if he bit something bitter with thorns he'd somehow managed to miss. "She's fine. Great spirits that one. You can't step inside her cell without getting a barrage of insults. It's like a firing squad that's only going to cause you pain but nothing else."
At that the ship's captain smiled. "Good. Let's see if that spirit stays with her at the gallows." The smile quickly disappeared as the man put his head over the ship's railing and heaved again.
--------------------------
Deep in the ship's bowels a woman stood, her long red hair shook from the soft, but steady breeze that poured in through the a tiny hole in the wood. It was refreshing enough to help ease the tension that had built within her shoulders for the last couple of days. Getting caught had been a terrible turn of events, but at least she didn't have to run at the moment. Her legs could rest. Once lady luck showed her the cards she'd take it and be fresh for a sprint.
There was a knock at the door. "WE're coming in. Make a move and we'll get you down." Then the doorknob turned and pushed inward.
-------------------------
The docks were welcoming. That wasn't a surprise. The island was controlled by the old marines after all. Three men were waiting when the ship's captain and first mate stepped off, followed closely by a couple marines, the ones that never stood out wherever they were, dragging the prisoner along.
"Captain Ruckus?" A tall dark skinned man with a belly like a bath tub raised his hand to the captain. "I'm Effen, Motha Effen. I'm in command here." Ruckus took his hand and gave it a quick shake. "And these are my personal guards Cross Alex" he pointed to the paler of the two who had what looked like a large boomerang taped to his back. "And Miss Lisa Star" he said pointing to a woman with a jaw that could crack stone and arms like pythons after eating a deer.
Ruckus nodded at the two without a word before turning his attention Motha. "Are you marines ready?"
"Sir?" Effen said, suddenly full of panic.
The captain gave a short sigh. "For the execution display! Do you have guards set up? Is the executioner and his block ready? What about the word? Did you put out the word that everyone in the town is to be there?"
At that Motha nodded most vigorously. "Yes sir! Of course. And is this here the prisoner?"
"That's me!" Abbigaill raised her head to look at the man. Her smiled reached from ear to ear. "I'll be the entertainer and decorator for this evening. I'll leave them all gasping and paint the place red." She faked a frown. "And I'm not even getting paid. How is that for a better world."
"Shut up!" ONe of the marines shouted as he slammed the butt of his gun against the back of the woman's head. The impact was enough to bring the redhead to her knees.
Ruckus turned at the woman with the red hair. She was smiling again, despite the blood that was running down the side of her face. "Yeah, that's her." Without a word he turned and started walking towards the center of town. "This is a small island and I need to get my land legs back. That should give you enough time to get everything in order."
"Sir" Effen snapped a salute and turned to Star. "You heard the man, see to it the word goes out. Shout in the streets!" He turned to the other man. "And you! Go find out whose job it is to put the show in order and get it done!" Both guards gave a figorous nod before turning and rushing into the city proper.
"Stress. Stress. Stress." Effen moaned. "I can already feel a headache coming on!"
----------------------------------
In the streets marines ran left and right, shouting about the mandatory public display the marines were hosting at the center of town. Failure to attend would be seen as an act of treason. | Name: Abbigaill L. Ranneh
Alias: Rainbow Fist
Appearance:
Age: 25
Position on the Ship: Captain
Personality: Abbigaill is fiercely loyal to her friends and allies. She believes herself as nothing more than the creation of the world around her and so does what she can to make other people greater. She's also quick to forgive others in most situations as again we're all just pieces of a game of dominoes falling on each other. The one exception to this is when someone messes with a person she's close to or cares about deeply. Do that and hell boils out. It's this level of caring that has caused Abbigaill to keep mostly to herself as she has a hard time doing the right thing when her heart is in the way.
It is due to her understanding of what people really are that she has decided to resist both kinds of marines as their ideas, noble as some may be, are not meant for the future, but more for a more peaceful present.
Abbigaill's biggest problem, if one were to ask her deceased family was an inability to take things seriously. Even after all the tragedy in her life its hard for her to invest too much energy into worrying. She'd rather relax, have a few drinks, or just take a nap and watch the sunrise. To her the world is full of great things and even while living on a mission to free it from oppressive hands one can't be expected to surrender everything that would make their personal life worth living.
Abbigaill has a snarky and biting sense of humor which usually surfaces in times of great stress and danger as if daring the god of death to try and do to her what it did to her parents. She can't really control this as her mouth seems to her to be working independently of her brain. She can bite her lip but usually by then its too late and all the blood in the world isn't going to get the cat back into its hat.
Background: Half of Abbigaill's young life was spent living in a tiny town with her parents and younger siblings in Shell town. There she made few friends, because with so many siblings who needed anyone else, but the few she made turned into people she became very close to.
The second half was spent on the road. She never did quiet find out why. One night her parents woke her and the rest of her kin up and said they had to go! That night they boarded a ship and headed out to. From there on they made their home wherever work could be found for a little while. It wasn't a wise move and most of her siblings died early on, but her parents were adamant about the decision and would never explain why. One day they found themselves caught in a crossfire between the two groups of marines. The tiny vessel they were on never stood a chance and the rest of Abbigaill's family perished. The only reason she survived was thanks to a scavenging group of pirates who managed to find her and take her on board.
These people became her family. Several years were spent adventuring and learning with the group. Sadly they met with a similar fate to those that were bound to her by blood. Once again in a battle with the old marines she was the only one who survived. However, this time she didn't have the fortune of finding herself being picked up by a harmless group of pirates.
Weapons/ Items:
Abilities:
Hand to hand combat expert-Abbigaill is a talented hand to hand combatant and specializes in a fighting style similar to boxing but with more jumping around and the occasional kick. Also she fights dirty as hell so its wise for people to guard their crotches when engaged with her in combat.
The Suitchi-Suitchi no mi(switch-switch fruit) is a paramecia type devil fruit that grants its user the ability to switch on areas where a charge can be manipulated. After coming into physical contact with an object the user can switch the spot on. What this means is a dark circle will appear at the area of contact followed by the initial charge the user wants the area to be. These spots can also be activated at any time, anywhere, on Abbigaill's body. These activated areas are represented in a yellow(-), red(+) or blue (0) circle. These 'charges' push away from similar charges and pull opposite charges together. The exception is the blue charge which has no effect on any other charges and acts as a place holder more than anything else. When a negatively and positively charged object come into contact all the kinetic energy in the action goes into the positively charged object(s). When two negatively charged objects react together there's no damage on either side, and when two positively charged objects press against each other both sides receive the same amount of kinetic force. Through direct physical contact it is possible to move the activated area from one object to another. .
Abbigaill is capable of holding six activated areas at a time, and can switch an activated area's charge at a moment's notice. She's also able to manipulate the total forces behind the reactions of the charges, but she cannot finely tune the forces... ie it the amount of force behind one reaction applies to them all. The maximum range she can hold a space active is 50 meters.
Techniques:
Orange Air gun-Abbigaill touches the air with her finger and creates a small positive charge in the air. Then she activates another positive charge on her finger. This causes the activated air to shoot forward like a bullet that tracks its target. She can do this is semi-automatic fashion but cannot fire another bullet till the first one found its mark or the air will simply dissipate before reaching its target.
Orange Megaton punch-Abbigaill marks an object with a positive charge, and activates a negative charge on her fist. Then she cranks up the power and literally goes flying towards whatever it is she wants to hit.
Other: |
1,329 | 28 | 1 | 800 | 3,846 | Mission One: Operation Rainbow Retrieval
Interacting with...Whoever is near him.
Marines were moving across the street, hooting and hollering about the upcoming execution and in the shadows of the treeline, the faintest glint of lazy eyes lurked, watching over the soldiers as they walked out of his line of sight.
Puh puh Shot from their resting position, the anchors were shot to the building across from him.
Thunk thunk They planted themselves within the wall.
VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrr In a moments flash, he zipped through the air, landing on the side of the building, looking down at the street where the Marines had turned off. He looked up, scanning the area for where the execution was being held. Who would be-
There... He spotted the the execution grounds. Many soldiers were gathered there. Narrowing his eyes he removed the anchoring in the building and took off in the direction of the center of town. | Name:
Malthael Marcus Levi
Alias:
Humming Bird
Appearance: He stands somewhere around 5'9" - 5'10". His usual attire is shown in the picture but underneath is what causes some to cringe. Upon his body are dozens and dozens of scars. Many from swords with a few gunshot wounds for an added touch but the two most prominent are the massive scar that runs from his right collar down to the left side of his waist and the other over his right metallic eye. In fact, he has managed to make that metallic eye useful. With the smallest of cog wheels, clockwork and a few other things, he made his own bionic eye. The red shirt is a reminder of where he came from. The Wings of freedom on both the back of the shirt and the sleeve are tribute to his father's vessel, Lens Mira
Age:
28
Position on the Ship:
Shipwright
Personality:
To those who don't know him he is very calm almost borderline lazy, at least at a glance. But quite the opposite. Usually behind that lackadaisical look he is focused, brainstorming new ideas for inventions to not only better himself but the crew as well, or eyeing up his opponent, or quite possibly undressing the women around him (a closet perv so-to-speak). He is easy going in communications, able to look passed the attitudes of people in order to better understand them. It is when combat arises that people can see his tactical and technical side. He prefers to keep things short, sweet and to the point in those situations, finding most who prefer introductions to be quite annoying. Outside of the battlefield, he takes pride in his inventions and swordplay, finding those who don't appreciate the time and effort in what he makes annoying and ungrateful.
Background:
He is a wanted criminal, at least deemed so by the Marines back when he sailed under his father, Captain Levi Barbosa of the Lens Mira, a large yet fast battleship who flies the Wings of Freedom. No one has heard much about this ship as of late, seemingly it would appear it has become nothing more than a ghost ship. The marines have managed to create a wanted poster of Marcus when he ran under the moniker, Leviathan.
Weapons/ Items:
Tempest MkV: This piece of engineering is one of Marcus' first inventions. Allowing the ability of quick maneuvering, high velocity turns both on the ground and in the air, it is quite the versatile weapon contraption. In its chambers holds 10 detachable hand forged blades.
Third Eye: It technically fits its name considering he is technically missing an eye thanks to a large blade. This was his second creation and his second most prize possession. It is designed in a way that it assists him in his high speed maneuvering by way of high shutter speed.
He has other smaller things like smoke grenades and wrist blades but doesn't usually need them, not to imply he does not keep them on his person just in case.
Abilities:
Skilled Swordsman: As well as inventing at such a young age, he was trained in swordsman ship at a young age, and soon enough dual weapon later on.
Inventor: Inventing since he was 5, he has created many things that he uses on the ship and off the ship, most of the tools he has created has been to benefit the ships hull and integrity but he is not limited to just defensive and technical inventions.
Situational awareness: He has been fighting since he was young and in many situations in many different environments so it is of no surprise he is quick thinking when it comes to combat or tense situations.
Reflexes: Due to the nature of his sword technique, the ability to react quick enough for the turns and sudden changes of position is dire. With time, he has acquired this necessary trait in order to use his equipment effectively.
Techniques:
Tempest Blade Dance: This is his primary fighting style, relying on his maneuver gear to zip around opponents
Buzzsaw: This Technique at first requires height, momentum and rotation. Height is key, he must be high enough in order to begin building up the high speed rotations and on the descent down, if his revolutions exceed the needed amount and the momentum was consistent, when he lands he will take off in the direction he was aiming with his blades leading the way. He can turn in this technique by simply leaning in the direction he wants to go.
Cyclone: This is similar to the buzzsaw technique but in a more horizontal path. Planting his anchoring mechanisms in the ground or in a structure behind his opponent, he quickly reels himself in while at the same time propelling himself forward. he releases one of the anchors, allowing him to twist to the side, his canister expels built up gas in the other direction, allowing him to begin his spin.
Other:
He is a drinker and a smoker. When not working on the ship or his inventions, he stands near the bow of the boat, overlooking the sea and its natural beauty. |
1,330 | 28 | 2 | 1,686 | 476 | A lot of marines out today. A lot of idiots who are going to be hungry so plenty of work. The grand execution will be quite the event. It might even prove to be incredibly entertaining. Strapped knives to her thigh and bag slung over her back. Might as well get a good place to stand for the execution. Tying her hair back with a red ribbon. "I hate this is where they want to make all the executions but it does give gramps some business." Saying to noone in particular setting off. | Name: Aka
Alias: Bomberman
Appearance:
Age: 17
Position on the Ship: Sniper
Personality:
Aka is a confident girl who values her honor & pride. She is often blunt & honest, often saying things in a straightforward or even vulgar manner. As a gang member, Aka is pretty focused on her line of work, having a tight but benevolent grasp on her turfs, ensuring that her clients respect her authority. She's open-minded, and generally a nice girl to talk with. She's a bad smoker due to her cigarettes exploding uncontrollably from her abilities. Also, she's a horrible cook, but she is kindof a food critic and a picky eater. Just like a typical person in East Blue, she was still unaware of devil fruits, the only thing she knows about her abilities is that she can explode instinctively.
Background: Aka was born from a wealthy family of Shell Town, living without worry until she was about 6 years old, but at that point things took a turn to the worse. She was fed a devil fruit by her parents (which they obtained through connections) and had accidentally killed them at the moment her explosive abilities activated. Left alone and abandoned, Aka lived the rest of her life in the back alley, rising up as a leader of a street gang due to her abiltiies & power. Not many dares to approach her turf without caution due to her "unexplained" exploding spears.
Weapons/ Items:
Javelins - Aka have bundles of Javelin, often with a few strands of her hair strung along it for use in conjunction with her Devil Fruit Ability.
Abilities:
Javelin - Aka is good in throwing javelins with dead accuracy from a far range, she could also use it as a melee weapon to hold her own at short-range combat.
Bomu Bomu no mi (Bomb Bomb Fruit) - A Paramecia Devil Fruit that gives explosive properties to any part of her body, whether it be hair, mucus, or breath. Aka is still rather imprecise on controlling the size of her explosions.
Techniques:
Exploding Javelin - Aka's Javelins which are strung with her hair can explode upon impact
Cannons - Aka can fire ship cannons at longer range and firepower due to her abilities, but, the cannon that she is using will be destroyed mostly due to too much firepower.
Other: PS: Yes, her sworn brothers will die shortly after the start ~~ |
1,331 | 28 | 3 | 2,305 | 2,031 | Handel Haydn Hallelujah pounded on the keys of the little honky tonk piano the bar had set up to the amusement of the drunkards that filled the mess hall. He was getting paid by the bar to perform, though the occasional generous sea dog did add to the tip jar that was half-filled with Handel's own money. A marine burst in and announced the execution. Listening in, Handel learned that Captain Ruckus had brought in the unfortunate convict. Handel came to Shells Town to lay low and hide his identity, but with the arrival of Ruckus, that hope had been dashed. Now Handel didn't know Ruckus personally, but if Ruckus was famous enough for his name to be known out in the boonies here in Shells Town, then he was trouble, and Handel didn't want any of it.
I need to get off this blasted island, Handel thought to himself as he continued playing his song, bringing it to an end as people started shuffling out of the bar, excited to see the bloody spectacle. Figuring that he'd be less conspicuous if he mingled with the crowd, Handel followed them out, but not before he rushed upstairs and gathered all his belongings into a massive wheeled trunk.
In the town square, Handel noticed the white hair of one of the cooks who worked at the bar. Handel had been going under the fake name Friedrich. He approached the cook, Bella, from behind. "Mandatory execution?! You'd think it was Whitebeard they had up there or something," he said, just to break the ice sonewhat. | Name: Handel Haydn Hallelujah
Alias: Commander Hallelujah, Agent Hallelujah, The Fiddler Crab
Replace the labcoat with a marine's 'Justice' jacket.Age: 30
Position on the Ship: Navigator
Personality:Handel seems friendly but in a 'get under your skin' sort of way. An eavesdropper at heart, he likes to plant baby den den mushi in private locations to hear other peoples' conversations and ends up knowing more information about people than they expect. He is a bit excessive compulsive and can be very particular when it comes to the tidiness of his belongings. He is a deep thinker and surprisingly empathetic. His quest is to bring back a moral and ethical government. He is always wearing a somewhat creepy smile that makes it hard for others to guess his thoughts. Handel hates when a plan doesn't go right. Handel tends to be a bit flirty with people he's close to regardless of gender.Background:Handel grew up the son of a rich, military family. He learned to play string instruments when he was young and was set to become a great marine as his inevitable future career. He joined the marines, keeping peace and helping take down weak pirates in the name of peace and justice, eventually working his way up to being commander and second in command of a ship, where he supported his captain with brilliant strategies that prioritized the survival of the crew, making as few sacrifices as possible, and even preventing the loss of life of the enemy, earning his captain a reputation of mercy.
These strategies earned Handel a transfer from normal navy service into the intelligence division, where he became an agent of Cipher Pol 1, CP1. Here he utilized his ability to gather and exploit information in preventative schemes that stopped violence and uprisings before they began. Yet more and more, he was being asked to make difficult choices and to prioritize 'efficiency' and secrecy over the lives of his enemies and the soldiers he was responsible for. He went along with the flow, comforting himself with moral justifications until it became too much for him. He realized he had become a man who no longer saw other humans as people but as numbers in his calculations. He had been numbed to the atrocities he had committed in the name of 'justice'. In the middle of an important government operation, Handel let slip the amount of soldiers that would be sacrificed among the navy as well as spilling information to the enemy, giving them a chance to escape. This saved numerous lives from both sides, but convicted him of high treason. He had prepared for this outcome, and had asked his father in a letter to disown him, and then he slipped away and went into hiding before the marines came to arrest him. His family is safe, having enough money and clout to avoid trouble from the marines. Since Handel deserted before the Marine schism, he is unsure how he is viewed by the Shielding Marines, though he is certain the Old Marines want him dead, having placed a 5,000,000 Beri bounty on his head. He suspects the Shielding marines remember the atrocities he has orchestrated rather than the fact that he has abandoned that life.Weapons/ Items:String Bass (Shield)Bass Bow (Sword)Various other musical instrumentsDen Den Mushi Set including several regular ones, a few baby ones, and a black one.Abilities:Handel is an inventor and a spy, who uses sound vibrations and information on his enemies to deadly effect. He knows navigation, and has some medical knowledge (mostly anesthesiology, pain management and psychosomatics) so he can be an assistant doctor but not the main doctor. He is better as a strategist, infiltrator or assassin.Techniques:In close range, he uses a unique sword and shield fighting style. The back of his bass is steel-plated, he holds the neck of the base, planting the spike of the bass in the ground with it's back towards the enemy as a massive riot shield. The bow of his fiddle has a blade along its edge which he swings as a short sword. He is also strong enough to lift the bass and swing it around, using the spike at the bottom to impale foes. He has learned how to use vibrations and sound to affect various materials, as long as he tweaks the frequency. Typically, the stiffer and more brittle a material is, the easier it is to damage it with sound. He can imbue his sword/bow with a frequency by running it along the strings of the base and then striking with the sword giving it a property to easily cleave through the specific material it was tuned to. He can also launch out sonic attacks at range, but sound dissipates with distance and is considerably weaker. He often plays on his own turf, scattering Den Den Mushi around to relay sonic attacks and create harmonic/acoustic zones where his sonic attacks are much more powerful. Handel knows various ways of using sound to affect the human body. He has the ability to infiltrate Marine ships and bases due to his background and intercept communications with his black Den Den Mushi. Handel requires information on the enemy to be most effective. His most powerful attacks take time or require preparation beforehand. He has limited long range capabilities, and is more defensive than offensive. He is only a decent swordsman at best, and relies more on surprise, advantage, and finesse. He runs the role of 'support mage' for the most part.Other:Handel is used to luxury and is a big spender. His musical inventions are also not cheap, so he'll tend to splurge the crews treasure on extravagant shopping sprees. |
1,332 | 28 | 4 | 619 | 2,638 | Location: Shells Town square
Sayuri watched the Marines as they rushed around the town square preparing for Abbigaill's execution in the chaotic but precise motion you would find on a warship preparing for battle. Apparently they were going to make a pretty big spectacle out of the whole thing. Not that she cared much she was going to save her either way. Adjusting the Marine cap and Justice jacket she was wearing she nodded at two Marines that passed her that acknowledged her by saluting very quickly before continuing on. Shaking her head she turned to take a small walk before the execution. She was baffled at the lack of communication with the base stationed here. It had been a couple months since her desertion and word somehow hadn't made it to this area of the East Blue. That or someone was hiding her desertion. Which she doubted/hoped wasn't the reason. When she'd arrived she was recognized almost instantly but a simple explanation that she was taking leave kept them from paying much attention to her. She was in full uniform, unfortunately, because Marines were required to be for executions, even when on leave.
Sighing she looks around looking for any places she recognized. She'd done this a couple times over the week she'd been there but only found a couple on the other side of town. One being her house and the other was a small store that was now up for sale. Making her way towards the edge of town she saw nothing except for a bakery which might have been a gun shop but she couldn't quite tell, "Hmm... This place has really changed. I don't even recognize any of the shops anymore... I wonder what happened these last eight years...", Sighing she turns around and starts making her way back towards the square taking a slightly different route.
Along the way she saw Marines starting to usher people towards the square, "Seems it'll be starting pretty soon... I'd better hurry," she starts walking slightly faster making sure she was in a decent place in time for the execution. Before she made it she stopped for a a few seconds when she saw something that made her pause. Talking to a cook from the tavern stood, of all people, the Fiddler Crab. Their eyes met for a second before hurrying to get a good place to stage her rescue plan, 'What the hell is he doing here?' | Name: Bella Nocturne
Alias: Nightshade Chef
Appearance:
Age: 27
Position on the Ship: Cook
Personality: Curious is one word that can easily describe Bella. Her curiosity has led her into many a problematic situation. Creativity is another defining factor of who Bella is it takes some creativity to hide the taste of toxins. She hates waste, both effort and resources. She considers bad cooks to be a waste of her oxygen, though she believes those who are learning to cook or trying to improve are worth the combined weight of the kitchen in gold.
Background: Growing up in a well off family she wanted for nothing but spent time in the kitchen watching the servants working. One day on a trip to another island for a fun vacation their ship was destroyed by pirates she floated on some flotsam to a deserted island at the age of eleven. Her life took a horrid turn on that island but it helped shape her into who she is. 9 years on that island gave her time to learn to survive and more importantly kill things so she can survive as well as different ways to do it. Rescued by a ship that stopped to investigate and brought her back to civilization. Back in civilization she got a job working as a cook in a bar and proceeded to work up the chain.
Weapons/ Items: Assorted Knives, Collection vials, Poison test strips, a collection of basic poisons
Abilities: Encyclopedic knowledge of poisonous/venomous flora/fauna, Advanced knife skills, Good accuracy with thrown objects.
Techniques:
Chaos toss- a method of throwing knives in quick succession with no intention of clustering the wounds.
Fabricating strike- a fast precise strike meant to damage muscle tissue.
Ricochet- Bouncing a knife to throw impossible angles
Other: |
1,333 | 28 | 5 | 310 | 290 | Calder Graham
'Mandatory Executions...that's just great! why did I stop in this town again?' These thoughts go through the mind of a young bard as he 'covertly' navigates around the town square trying his best not to draw attention to himself. This young man's name is Calder Graham, a man with short black hair, and a plain white tank top shirt and some basic pants. The only thing from his appearance that makes him stand out is he has a guitar strapped to his back. Calder is keeping the guitar wrapped up and hidden to the best of his ability for the same reason he isn't trying to draw attention to himself.
Calder is wanted by the marines for stealing a prototype devil fruit object from them. That object is that very guitar on his back. The last thing Calder needed was the marines here at this execution to come after him. This execution was bothering him, like why was it necessary to force so many people to view it? What good can come of this? Calder never understood this yes the marines don't tolerate pirates but this kind of show will never work. There wasn't anything Calder could do about this, no matter what he thought of this execution it wouldn't change anything he was one person and there were so many marines. Calder gets into a good spot so he can see what is going to happen and where he can run if someone recognizes him | Name: Calder Graham,
Alias: N/A
Appearance:
Age: 26
Position on the Ship: Musician/Bard
Personality: . Calder is a very talkative person making jokes even at the most serious of times. He loves to tell stories whether they are true or not. Calder is also very cocky and arrogant at the best of times. Everything is like a game to him and he makes his own forms of entertainment. The only times he isn't cocky, is when someone either angers him or someone dies that he was close with.
Background: Calder grew up in a remote little village as a poor little street urchin. He fought tooth and nail just to survive. Learning the art of music, when he started it was with a banjo. Playing for money he got pretty good at it. Calder left his village in search of seeing if he could make more money playing for more populated towns. As his skill increased, so did what people paid him.
One day he played for a bunch of marines in a tavern known as the Drunken Tavern who paid him but they were short one cash. They had intended on short changing Calder and he would have none of it. So Calder broke into their ship late at night, and stole a few things one being a special Guitar. The Guitar sort of called out to Calder the moment he saw it as if it was destiny for him to have it. The moment he stole it, and got off the ship, the marines were going nuts and he ran. Calder has been under a small bounty ever since, the marines had a prototype weapon stolen. Calder ended up joining a pirate crew to keep out of the marine's clutches.
Weapons/ Items: A Guitar that has a storm devil fruit in it. That fires off balls of thunder clouds and other storm like stuff. The Guitar has two forms a normal looking guitar and Devil Fruit Form. It only works in devil fruit, and transforms on command of the wielder.
Other gear he has, Carver has a bag of dials. Three breathe dials, one flame dial, a recording dial, and an impact dial. Calder collects dials all when ever he sees one. He is in constant search for a specific dial, he wants a reject dial.
Abilities: Calder has a few abilities, that go along with his natural ability to play a special guitar.. He plays it when it is in devil fruit form.
Techniques:
Power Cord- The ability sends out a small cloud ball of thunder
Power Concert- A barrage of cloud balls of thunder.
Other: N/A |
1,334 | 28 | 6 | 1,489 | 1,400 | Chester sighs as the guards stop him for the pettiest of reasons.they stop his cart yelling for him to attend the execution." now now young men is their any reason to be accosting a simple snake oil salesmen? Hmm is it snake oil I forgot what poor creatures I used to make these sliders was it legal...I forget" the guards get nervous and their hands go to their swords as a series of steel darts hit their chests their faces going pale as they stiffen and the doctor starts to whistle his cart heading towards the square. | Name: Abbigaill L. Ranneh
Alias: Rainbow Fist
Appearance:
Age: 25
Position on the Ship: Captain
Personality: Abbigaill is fiercely loyal to her friends and allies. She believes herself as nothing more than the creation of the world around her and so does what she can to make other people greater. She's also quick to forgive others in most situations as again we're all just pieces of a game of dominoes falling on each other. The one exception to this is when someone messes with a person she's close to or cares about deeply. Do that and hell boils out. It's this level of caring that has caused Abbigaill to keep mostly to herself as she has a hard time doing the right thing when her heart is in the way.
It is due to her understanding of what people really are that she has decided to resist both kinds of marines as their ideas, noble as some may be, are not meant for the future, but more for a more peaceful present.
Abbigaill's biggest problem, if one were to ask her deceased family was an inability to take things seriously. Even after all the tragedy in her life its hard for her to invest too much energy into worrying. She'd rather relax, have a few drinks, or just take a nap and watch the sunrise. To her the world is full of great things and even while living on a mission to free it from oppressive hands one can't be expected to surrender everything that would make their personal life worth living.
Abbigaill has a snarky and biting sense of humor which usually surfaces in times of great stress and danger as if daring the god of death to try and do to her what it did to her parents. She can't really control this as her mouth seems to her to be working independently of her brain. She can bite her lip but usually by then its too late and all the blood in the world isn't going to get the cat back into its hat.
Background: Half of Abbigaill's young life was spent living in a tiny town with her parents and younger siblings in Shell town. There she made few friends, because with so many siblings who needed anyone else, but the few she made turned into people she became very close to.
The second half was spent on the road. She never did quiet find out why. One night her parents woke her and the rest of her kin up and said they had to go! That night they boarded a ship and headed out to. From there on they made their home wherever work could be found for a little while. It wasn't a wise move and most of her siblings died early on, but her parents were adamant about the decision and would never explain why. One day they found themselves caught in a crossfire between the two groups of marines. The tiny vessel they were on never stood a chance and the rest of Abbigaill's family perished. The only reason she survived was thanks to a scavenging group of pirates who managed to find her and take her on board.
These people became her family. Several years were spent adventuring and learning with the group. Sadly they met with a similar fate to those that were bound to her by blood. Once again in a battle with the old marines she was the only one who survived. However, this time she didn't have the fortune of finding herself being picked up by a harmless group of pirates.
Weapons/ Items:
Abilities:
Hand to hand combat expert-Abbigaill is a talented hand to hand combatant and specializes in a fighting style similar to boxing but with more jumping around and the occasional kick. Also she fights dirty as hell so its wise for people to guard their crotches when engaged with her in combat.
The Suitchi-Suitchi no mi(switch-switch fruit) is a paramecia type devil fruit that grants its user the ability to switch on areas where a charge can be manipulated. After coming into physical contact with an object the user can switch the spot on. What this means is a dark circle will appear at the area of contact followed by the initial charge the user wants the area to be. These spots can also be activated at any time, anywhere, on Abbigaill's body. These activated areas are represented in a yellow(-), red(+) or blue (0) circle. These 'charges' push away from similar charges and pull opposite charges together. The exception is the blue charge which has no effect on any other charges and acts as a place holder more than anything else. When a negatively and positively charged object come into contact all the kinetic energy in the action goes into the positively charged object(s). When two negatively charged objects react together there's no damage on either side, and when two positively charged objects press against each other both sides receive the same amount of kinetic force. Through direct physical contact it is possible to move the activated area from one object to another. .
Abbigaill is capable of holding six activated areas at a time, and can switch an activated area's charge at a moment's notice. She's also able to manipulate the total forces behind the reactions of the charges, but she cannot finely tune the forces... ie it the amount of force behind one reaction applies to them all. The maximum range she can hold a space active is 50 meters.
Techniques:
Orange Air gun-Abbigaill touches the air with her finger and creates a small positive charge in the air. Then she activates another positive charge on her finger. This causes the activated air to shoot forward like a bullet that tracks its target. She can do this is semi-automatic fashion but cannot fire another bullet till the first one found its mark or the air will simply dissipate before reaching its target.
Orange Megaton punch-Abbigaill marks an object with a positive charge, and activates a negative charge on her fist. Then she cranks up the power and literally goes flying towards whatever it is she wants to hit.
Other: |
1,335 | 28 | 7 | 800 | 3,846 | Operation Rainbow Retrieval: The Wings of Freedom
Interacting with..
It took him some time to reach the spot he had gotten to. Alleyways and rooftops were mostly clear, minus the few stray watchdogs who must not have been told. A few cus here and their and Marcus had managed to claim a spot overlooking the execution square, or by what he heard some Marines call it, the Stage. Quite pitiful if one were to ask him. They made it seem like this was fun. They didn’t understand the harm they had caused over the years and more than likely anyone caught with views otherwise were put down like dogs. But, he watched from atop a rooftop not too far from the execution site. God the Marines were more annoying now than ever. A new age, a new annoyance for those who rebelled against their tyrannical ways. Malthael was lucky enough to avoid such problems, mostly due to his prior pirating experience and evasion tactics, more commonly known as his invention.
Flllllllllllllll...clickclickclickclick
His optical invention zoomed in to get a better view of the show that was being put on. Definitely an execution. Announcement and everything needed to showboat their bullshit. As the man kept talking, he couldn't help but roll his eyes. If only he could just shut him the fuck up. But soon his disinterest turned to curiosity as they brought out the prisoner. Malthael’s eyes widened ever so slightly as he took notice to who she was. ”Is that-”
His eye squinted as his eagle eye zoomed in for a better view.
”Her...They can’t kill her, i need her to get me off this island. The end of his sentence held a bit of tension as he made the few necessary adjustments to his gear. Tthe Axemen heaved up his axe.
Location: Shells Town square
Sayuri watched the as everything was set up from her incredible position right up front. Nobody was willing to get in a commissioned officers way and made an easy path for her. She wanted to rush up there and just fight her way through to Abbigaill but it would be difficult for to have gotten both of them out alive. So she’d just have to wait until she was right at the block and save her then. She just sighs as he makes a rather grand speech before letting her say last words and calling for her execution. Smiling she removes her hands from her pockets and shoot directly in front of one of the executioners punching him in the face sending him flying backwards and losing his weapon. She spins around to see someone else she vaguely recognized zipline down and kill the other Executioner.
PSHH! VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrr….CLING!THUNK
His anchor mechanism shot out and down towards the ground on the side of the stage but not before smacking into the falling axe, shocking most around. But it was the sound of his steel wire reeling him in that got everyone's attention, not to mention the rolling head of the one executioner.
“WHO IS THAT!?”
“THA-THAT’S LEVIATHAN!”
“I THOUGHT THE LENS MIRA CREW WERE DEAD!?
A few in the crowd pointed at him, taking quick recognition to who he was. Malthael Marcus Levi, Son of the infamous Captain Levi of the Lens Mira. If his face didn’t give it away. The tailcoat of his jacket, which bore the Wings of Freedom, did. He looked over to Abby with lazy yet cautious eyes, which slowly looked her up and down.
”The crowed identified him for her however, ’Oh, that’s Malthael… Hummingbird is his codename I believe… Wonder what he’s here for…”’ She shrugges and turns to Abbigaill kneeling to look at her, ”Well It’s been awhile hasn’t it Squirt. Been what… Twelve… Maybe fourteen years?” she pauses for half a second before smirking, ”Heh you might not even remember me it’s been so long,” she turns to look at Malthael as he start talking to Abbigaill.
”Captain Fist? Captain Rainbow Fist, correct? Look I’m in a bit of a predicament as I need to get off this island and I don’t know how to captain a ship. Seeing as how you're a captain I would require your assistance. Name is Malthael Marcus Levi, I’m a shipwright and a bit of an inventor so-” He looked back to the rest of the people there, eyeing up his opponents. Funny enough he was crazy enough to do this. Plus he did have a few backup plans littered across the island. Set to go off roughly in five minutes. ”Ready to get out of here?” He turned back to glance at her, the seriousness in his eyes shown past the laziness of them. | Name:
Malthael Marcus Levi
Alias:
Humming Bird
Appearance: He stands somewhere around 5'9" - 5'10". His usual attire is shown in the picture but underneath is what causes some to cringe. Upon his body are dozens and dozens of scars. Many from swords with a few gunshot wounds for an added touch but the two most prominent are the massive scar that runs from his right collar down to the left side of his waist and the other over his right metallic eye. In fact, he has managed to make that metallic eye useful. With the smallest of cog wheels, clockwork and a few other things, he made his own bionic eye. The red shirt is a reminder of where he came from. The Wings of freedom on both the back of the shirt and the sleeve are tribute to his father's vessel, Lens Mira
Age:
28
Position on the Ship:
Shipwright
Personality:
To those who don't know him he is very calm almost borderline lazy, at least at a glance. But quite the opposite. Usually behind that lackadaisical look he is focused, brainstorming new ideas for inventions to not only better himself but the crew as well, or eyeing up his opponent, or quite possibly undressing the women around him (a closet perv so-to-speak). He is easy going in communications, able to look passed the attitudes of people in order to better understand them. It is when combat arises that people can see his tactical and technical side. He prefers to keep things short, sweet and to the point in those situations, finding most who prefer introductions to be quite annoying. Outside of the battlefield, he takes pride in his inventions and swordplay, finding those who don't appreciate the time and effort in what he makes annoying and ungrateful.
Background:
He is a wanted criminal, at least deemed so by the Marines back when he sailed under his father, Captain Levi Barbosa of the Lens Mira, a large yet fast battleship who flies the Wings of Freedom. No one has heard much about this ship as of late, seemingly it would appear it has become nothing more than a ghost ship. The marines have managed to create a wanted poster of Marcus when he ran under the moniker, Leviathan.
Weapons/ Items:
Tempest MkV: This piece of engineering is one of Marcus' first inventions. Allowing the ability of quick maneuvering, high velocity turns both on the ground and in the air, it is quite the versatile weapon contraption. In its chambers holds 10 detachable hand forged blades.
Third Eye: It technically fits its name considering he is technically missing an eye thanks to a large blade. This was his second creation and his second most prize possession. It is designed in a way that it assists him in his high speed maneuvering by way of high shutter speed.
He has other smaller things like smoke grenades and wrist blades but doesn't usually need them, not to imply he does not keep them on his person just in case.
Abilities:
Skilled Swordsman: As well as inventing at such a young age, he was trained in swordsman ship at a young age, and soon enough dual weapon later on.
Inventor: Inventing since he was 5, he has created many things that he uses on the ship and off the ship, most of the tools he has created has been to benefit the ships hull and integrity but he is not limited to just defensive and technical inventions.
Situational awareness: He has been fighting since he was young and in many situations in many different environments so it is of no surprise he is quick thinking when it comes to combat or tense situations.
Reflexes: Due to the nature of his sword technique, the ability to react quick enough for the turns and sudden changes of position is dire. With time, he has acquired this necessary trait in order to use his equipment effectively.
Techniques:
Tempest Blade Dance: This is his primary fighting style, relying on his maneuver gear to zip around opponents
Buzzsaw: This Technique at first requires height, momentum and rotation. Height is key, he must be high enough in order to begin building up the high speed rotations and on the descent down, if his revolutions exceed the needed amount and the momentum was consistent, when he lands he will take off in the direction he was aiming with his blades leading the way. He can turn in this technique by simply leaning in the direction he wants to go.
Cyclone: This is similar to the buzzsaw technique but in a more horizontal path. Planting his anchoring mechanisms in the ground or in a structure behind his opponent, he quickly reels himself in while at the same time propelling himself forward. he releases one of the anchors, allowing him to twist to the side, his canister expels built up gas in the other direction, allowing him to begin his spin.
Other:
He is a drinker and a smoker. When not working on the ship or his inventions, he stands near the bow of the boat, overlooking the sea and its natural beauty. |
1,336 | 28 | 8 | 2,305 | 2,031 | Several men raise their guns ready to fire as a face falls in front of them." Sorry lads but since the shoes over I'm going to be needing a new group to follow besides" they tense up going into paralytic shock" the good doctor needs more field testing." He smiles wickedly before approaching the rambunctious lot."care for some assistance in return for another stowaway". He smiles innocently looking at the confusion and hearing the thumping of boots. | Name: Handel Haydn Hallelujah
Alias: Commander Hallelujah, Agent Hallelujah, The Fiddler Crab
Replace the labcoat with a marine's 'Justice' jacket.Age: 30
Position on the Ship: Navigator
Personality:Handel seems friendly but in a 'get under your skin' sort of way. An eavesdropper at heart, he likes to plant baby den den mushi in private locations to hear other peoples' conversations and ends up knowing more information about people than they expect. He is a bit excessive compulsive and can be very particular when it comes to the tidiness of his belongings. He is a deep thinker and surprisingly empathetic. His quest is to bring back a moral and ethical government. He is always wearing a somewhat creepy smile that makes it hard for others to guess his thoughts. Handel hates when a plan doesn't go right. Handel tends to be a bit flirty with people he's close to regardless of gender.Background:Handel grew up the son of a rich, military family. He learned to play string instruments when he was young and was set to become a great marine as his inevitable future career. He joined the marines, keeping peace and helping take down weak pirates in the name of peace and justice, eventually working his way up to being commander and second in command of a ship, where he supported his captain with brilliant strategies that prioritized the survival of the crew, making as few sacrifices as possible, and even preventing the loss of life of the enemy, earning his captain a reputation of mercy.
These strategies earned Handel a transfer from normal navy service into the intelligence division, where he became an agent of Cipher Pol 1, CP1. Here he utilized his ability to gather and exploit information in preventative schemes that stopped violence and uprisings before they began. Yet more and more, he was being asked to make difficult choices and to prioritize 'efficiency' and secrecy over the lives of his enemies and the soldiers he was responsible for. He went along with the flow, comforting himself with moral justifications until it became too much for him. He realized he had become a man who no longer saw other humans as people but as numbers in his calculations. He had been numbed to the atrocities he had committed in the name of 'justice'. In the middle of an important government operation, Handel let slip the amount of soldiers that would be sacrificed among the navy as well as spilling information to the enemy, giving them a chance to escape. This saved numerous lives from both sides, but convicted him of high treason. He had prepared for this outcome, and had asked his father in a letter to disown him, and then he slipped away and went into hiding before the marines came to arrest him. His family is safe, having enough money and clout to avoid trouble from the marines. Since Handel deserted before the Marine schism, he is unsure how he is viewed by the Shielding Marines, though he is certain the Old Marines want him dead, having placed a 5,000,000 Beri bounty on his head. He suspects the Shielding marines remember the atrocities he has orchestrated rather than the fact that he has abandoned that life.Weapons/ Items:String Bass (Shield)Bass Bow (Sword)Various other musical instrumentsDen Den Mushi Set including several regular ones, a few baby ones, and a black one.Abilities:Handel is an inventor and a spy, who uses sound vibrations and information on his enemies to deadly effect. He knows navigation, and has some medical knowledge (mostly anesthesiology, pain management and psychosomatics) so he can be an assistant doctor but not the main doctor. He is better as a strategist, infiltrator or assassin.Techniques:In close range, he uses a unique sword and shield fighting style. The back of his bass is steel-plated, he holds the neck of the base, planting the spike of the bass in the ground with it's back towards the enemy as a massive riot shield. The bow of his fiddle has a blade along its edge which he swings as a short sword. He is also strong enough to lift the bass and swing it around, using the spike at the bottom to impale foes. He has learned how to use vibrations and sound to affect various materials, as long as he tweaks the frequency. Typically, the stiffer and more brittle a material is, the easier it is to damage it with sound. He can imbue his sword/bow with a frequency by running it along the strings of the base and then striking with the sword giving it a property to easily cleave through the specific material it was tuned to. He can also launch out sonic attacks at range, but sound dissipates with distance and is considerably weaker. He often plays on his own turf, scattering Den Den Mushi around to relay sonic attacks and create harmonic/acoustic zones where his sonic attacks are much more powerful. Handel knows various ways of using sound to affect the human body. He has the ability to infiltrate Marine ships and bases due to his background and intercept communications with his black Den Den Mushi. Handel requires information on the enemy to be most effective. His most powerful attacks take time or require preparation beforehand. He has limited long range capabilities, and is more defensive than offensive. He is only a decent swordsman at best, and relies more on surprise, advantage, and finesse. He runs the role of 'support mage' for the most part.Other:Handel is used to luxury and is a big spender. His musical inventions are also not cheap, so he'll tend to splurge the crews treasure on extravagant shopping sprees. |
1,337 | 28 | 9 | 1,686 | 476 | Aka
"Woah, holy shyt~" Aka commented at that unbelievable scene. Outright attacking the marines and executing that executioner in the broad daylight, whoever they are, they must crazy to do something like that. This is totally worth the trip, did the Marines just summon all of us here for us to see a fail execution? She bit on her ice cream, giggling whilst looking at the 'fireworks display' by the Marines. "Still, an ice cream for 200 beli, seriously those vendors are ripping me off!" Aka blew up her ice cream as she walked back to her streets, now that the climax is over.
"Just how...?" Aka's eyes widened at the sight of the current state of her streets. Corpses of her sworn brothers were lying here & there, some of them with their heads lopped off. She just left her homies like half an hour ago, and now they're gone just like that. Looking at the traces of bullets hanging around, its clearly done by marines, "But why...? Why pick a worthless target like this one?"
The Marines, apparently, have confirmed that there is a Devil Fruit user here, and along with the arrival of Effen, a strong force is dispatched to wipe an insignificant street gang.
Aka stayed silent throughout leaving her back alley. Her eyes darkened as she went back to the town square, where the Marines are still doing their business. Pulling out her Javelin, Aka threw it at the Marines. The Javelin landed at a bunch of Marines as it exploded upon them. "Oh wait, better to take down the person who talks the most shyt, yeah that one, he's definitely important." Aka drew out another throwing spear, stringing it with a few strand of her hair as she sent it towards Effen. She had nothing to lose, all that is in her head was to avenge her brothers as much as she can. | Name: Aka
Alias: Bomberman
Appearance:
Age: 17
Position on the Ship: Sniper
Personality:
Aka is a confident girl who values her honor & pride. She is often blunt & honest, often saying things in a straightforward or even vulgar manner. As a gang member, Aka is pretty focused on her line of work, having a tight but benevolent grasp on her turfs, ensuring that her clients respect her authority. She's open-minded, and generally a nice girl to talk with. She's a bad smoker due to her cigarettes exploding uncontrollably from her abilities. Also, she's a horrible cook, but she is kindof a food critic and a picky eater. Just like a typical person in East Blue, she was still unaware of devil fruits, the only thing she knows about her abilities is that she can explode instinctively.
Background: Aka was born from a wealthy family of Shell Town, living without worry until she was about 6 years old, but at that point things took a turn to the worse. She was fed a devil fruit by her parents (which they obtained through connections) and had accidentally killed them at the moment her explosive abilities activated. Left alone and abandoned, Aka lived the rest of her life in the back alley, rising up as a leader of a street gang due to her abiltiies & power. Not many dares to approach her turf without caution due to her "unexplained" exploding spears.
Weapons/ Items:
Javelins - Aka have bundles of Javelin, often with a few strands of her hair strung along it for use in conjunction with her Devil Fruit Ability.
Abilities:
Javelin - Aka is good in throwing javelins with dead accuracy from a far range, she could also use it as a melee weapon to hold her own at short-range combat.
Bomu Bomu no mi (Bomb Bomb Fruit) - A Paramecia Devil Fruit that gives explosive properties to any part of her body, whether it be hair, mucus, or breath. Aka is still rather imprecise on controlling the size of her explosions.
Techniques:
Exploding Javelin - Aka's Javelins which are strung with her hair can explode upon impact
Cannons - Aka can fire ship cannons at longer range and firepower due to her abilities, but, the cannon that she is using will be destroyed mostly due to too much firepower.
Other: PS: Yes, her sworn brothers will die shortly after the start ~~ |
1,338 | 28 | 10 | 310 | 290 | Calder Graham
'What just happened? Is this really happening? Someone stopping the execution? There are more pirates here!' Calder's eyes widen at the current situation as his thoughts ran wild. Eventually a smirk went across his face this was now interesting and not just some show of the new world government's law.
For now he will wait for an opportunity to get involved, but for now he isn't going to jump right into action. His eyes watching and waiting to see the reactions of the marines looking for Calder is just standing there watching looking to see this all unfold. If he gets a moment to do something he will but for now with so many unknowns its best to wait and see what will happen. | Name: Calder Graham,
Alias: N/A
Appearance:
Age: 26
Position on the Ship: Musician/Bard
Personality: . Calder is a very talkative person making jokes even at the most serious of times. He loves to tell stories whether they are true or not. Calder is also very cocky and arrogant at the best of times. Everything is like a game to him and he makes his own forms of entertainment. The only times he isn't cocky, is when someone either angers him or someone dies that he was close with.
Background: Calder grew up in a remote little village as a poor little street urchin. He fought tooth and nail just to survive. Learning the art of music, when he started it was with a banjo. Playing for money he got pretty good at it. Calder left his village in search of seeing if he could make more money playing for more populated towns. As his skill increased, so did what people paid him.
One day he played for a bunch of marines in a tavern known as the Drunken Tavern who paid him but they were short one cash. They had intended on short changing Calder and he would have none of it. So Calder broke into their ship late at night, and stole a few things one being a special Guitar. The Guitar sort of called out to Calder the moment he saw it as if it was destiny for him to have it. The moment he stole it, and got off the ship, the marines were going nuts and he ran. Calder has been under a small bounty ever since, the marines had a prototype weapon stolen. Calder ended up joining a pirate crew to keep out of the marine's clutches.
Weapons/ Items: A Guitar that has a storm devil fruit in it. That fires off balls of thunder clouds and other storm like stuff. The Guitar has two forms a normal looking guitar and Devil Fruit Form. It only works in devil fruit, and transforms on command of the wielder.
Other gear he has, Carver has a bag of dials. Three breathe dials, one flame dial, a recording dial, and an impact dial. Calder collects dials all when ever he sees one. He is in constant search for a specific dial, he wants a reject dial.
Abilities: Calder has a few abilities, that go along with his natural ability to play a special guitar.. He plays it when it is in devil fruit form.
Techniques:
Power Cord- The ability sends out a small cloud ball of thunder
Power Concert- A barrage of cloud balls of thunder.
Other: N/A |
1,339 | 28 | 11 | 1,489 | 1,400 | Effen talked too much! Abbigaill got it. He was in a position of power and you had to have a mouth to get there. She just wished he wasn't praising complete brainwashing as if it was in any way the right thing to do. She sighed. Dying sucked, death she didn't know about, but did they have to use her in this way? It was her own damn fault for accepting defeat instead of.... Yeah there wasn't much she could do at that point! The biggest problem was that damn Ruckus! She could've at least driven them to kill her if not for that man's insane strength. Nearly silently she gave a silent sigh of gratitude that the speech came to an end. For a moment there she was worried he'd hit some kind of snag and would continue looping forever and ever.
Abbigaill felt motion on either side of her as the men raised their weapons to slice off her head. Down the blades came, but instead of feeling the icy cold steel sink into her flesh she heard bodies land and other bodies hit the ground, hard. There was some commotion and Abbigaill opened her eyes to find two dead marines on the ground and two strangers standing besides her. She looked up into the eyes of a marine. They were familiar eyes. The mouth below them called her squirt. Which took the Rainbow fist way back. Her temple started to throb. "Who are you calling squirt, you tree of a woman! I bet everyone looks like a squirt from up there!" At which point Abbigaill remembered her situation and got to her feet. "Also, thanks for the save mysterious strange from my past, whom I'll give an honest effort at remembering!" The tiny red head turned her attention from the woman towards the man in the fancy looking jacket. She smiled up at him. "That's me. You can call me Abbigaill."
She gave the man a nod before turning her attention to the nearest group of marines. They had their guns in hands. They didn't shoot though. Instead they all went down like bowling balls ordered in a nice straight line. Behind them, a new figure appeared, one with insanity in his eyes, who mentioned also needing a way out.
"Nice to have you, man." Abbigaill gave a short bow before taking stock of the situation. Most of their enemies had been caught off guard. There was some panic and desperate looking around for leadership, but everyone was starting to get their heads out of their rears. " As for getting out of here we're in a similar predicament so I say we get on that fast, quick, and in a hurry!"
"But first." Abbigaill the rainbow fist's eyes narrowed at the nearest threats, Ruckus, his right hand man, and the town's puppet with his own personal servants. "We need to take care of these guys or we're going to have a hard time getting to the docks." The tiny woman grinned. "Ruckus.." She cracked her knuckles as she started moving towards the edge of the 'stage.' "You got me last time, because I wasn't prepared. Don't think you're going to do that again."
Ruckus smiled back at the tiny woman. He raised his hand towards her and motioned for her to come at her. Effen took a few steps back. A shadow appeared over him. "Hmmm?" He looked up and screamed just as the spear came down on the group and exploded in a brilliant flash.
The redhead needed a blink's worth of time to process what just happened. When that was done she came to the conclusion that one never looked a gift horse in the mouth because those things liked to bite. "Well now that that's been taken care of let's get out of here!" A bullet whizzed past the woman, leaving a hot line of air hanging an inch away from her cheek. "I believe the docks were this way. Of course I was concussed while I was coming up here, but still. It beats waiting around here." In response to her words the marines, not caught in the blast, started firing at crowd. "Come on!" She called as best she could over the bullet barrage.
"Don't let them get away!" A calm, nearly serene voice spoke from the debris filled air. "Sir" a strange, echoic voice replied. Then there was a strange shrieking scream a split second before something big and dark rushed out in the direction of the pirates.
Effen survived the blast. Yes, the man was a puppet of the Old Marines, but he was a strong puppet, the kind that could take point blank blasts and keep on bossy his underlings around. The dust settled he turned his attention to his personal servants, both of which were unharmed in the blast, and standing at ramrod straight attention. "Lisa." His voice was ragged. "I want that damn bomberman and the rest of her ragtags brought right to me!" This was followed by a long coughing fit because Effen's lungs weren't like they used to be. "As for you Alex." He stopped to pat his chest and hopefully get his lungs to cooperate. "I'm done with this experiment. If the marines want to fix a population they can do it somewhere else. These blasted pirates aren't worth saving! Take a group of marines and find every single damn pirate on this island and slit their throats!" For a moment, Effen's subordinate's thought about protesting, but decided against. Each gave a short bow to the man before turning away to fulfill their duties.
Lisa had seen her prey a few moments before the blast but didn't do anything on account of never once suspecting the woman would be foolish enough to attack her boss in broad daylight like she did. Well that was a mistake she wouldn't make again. "Bomberman!" Lisa shouted as she raced towards her prey. "Bomberman! My boss would like a word with you."
Eventually the air cleared revealing Effen with Ruckus by his side. "Damn pirates." He muttered. "Their going to ruin everything."
"Oh I don't know about that." Ruckus said. Effen jumped as he completely forgot the man was there, but managed to compose himself quickly enough. "The situation can still be taken care of without any of our superiors needing to be told. Honestly, I for one agree with the notion of simply slaughtering the pirates instead of winning them over. The project, as grand as it sounds on paper, has too many kinks." With that the captain turned and started walking away. "Kill them all. I'll make up something about the project being impossible due to unforeseen events."
"Oh yes!" Effen rubbed his hands together and nodded vigorously. "Thank you." He paused. "Uhm. Captain Ruckus, where are you heading?"
"The docks." Ruckus replied without turning back. "That's where every pirate will be heading to. I intend on stopping them, and if you'd like your future to be anything more than that of a cabin boy I suggest you stop them before I have to. That's the deal. Finish them without me and you'll get out of this scott free, require any more assistance from me, aside from my second in command helping you out, and I'll personally see you placed in front of a firing squad for gross negligence."
"I!---" Effen called, but the captain didn't bother turning around to look at him. "Oh damn it." Effen sighed. His temples bulged with pressure and he rubbed them. "One damn bad day and I'm going to end up in front of a firing squad!" The man gritted his teeth and slammed his fist so hard into the ground it cracked. When he looked up he noticed a man, standing still, apparently unaffected by the chaos, smiling. Something about the look on the man's face jogged something in the back of Effen's mind. "Hey you!" The town's marine agent shouted. "Come here!" He didn't bother waiting for the guy to respond. He started moving right towards him.
Captain Ruckus walked toward the docks for a few minutes, silent in thought before stopping. HIs eyes narrowed at a familiar looking form heading away from the carnage. The man's face cracked into a grin. It looked out of place there like a star inside a black hole. Without a word he increased his pace and quickly caught up with the man and his trunk. "Interesting turn of events." The captain said slowly, savoring the words. "Wouldn't you say so, Agent Hallelujah?" | Name: Abbigaill L. Ranneh
Alias: Rainbow Fist
Appearance:
Age: 25
Position on the Ship: Captain
Personality: Abbigaill is fiercely loyal to her friends and allies. She believes herself as nothing more than the creation of the world around her and so does what she can to make other people greater. She's also quick to forgive others in most situations as again we're all just pieces of a game of dominoes falling on each other. The one exception to this is when someone messes with a person she's close to or cares about deeply. Do that and hell boils out. It's this level of caring that has caused Abbigaill to keep mostly to herself as she has a hard time doing the right thing when her heart is in the way.
It is due to her understanding of what people really are that she has decided to resist both kinds of marines as their ideas, noble as some may be, are not meant for the future, but more for a more peaceful present.
Abbigaill's biggest problem, if one were to ask her deceased family was an inability to take things seriously. Even after all the tragedy in her life its hard for her to invest too much energy into worrying. She'd rather relax, have a few drinks, or just take a nap and watch the sunrise. To her the world is full of great things and even while living on a mission to free it from oppressive hands one can't be expected to surrender everything that would make their personal life worth living.
Abbigaill has a snarky and biting sense of humor which usually surfaces in times of great stress and danger as if daring the god of death to try and do to her what it did to her parents. She can't really control this as her mouth seems to her to be working independently of her brain. She can bite her lip but usually by then its too late and all the blood in the world isn't going to get the cat back into its hat.
Background: Half of Abbigaill's young life was spent living in a tiny town with her parents and younger siblings in Shell town. There she made few friends, because with so many siblings who needed anyone else, but the few she made turned into people she became very close to.
The second half was spent on the road. She never did quiet find out why. One night her parents woke her and the rest of her kin up and said they had to go! That night they boarded a ship and headed out to. From there on they made their home wherever work could be found for a little while. It wasn't a wise move and most of her siblings died early on, but her parents were adamant about the decision and would never explain why. One day they found themselves caught in a crossfire between the two groups of marines. The tiny vessel they were on never stood a chance and the rest of Abbigaill's family perished. The only reason she survived was thanks to a scavenging group of pirates who managed to find her and take her on board.
These people became her family. Several years were spent adventuring and learning with the group. Sadly they met with a similar fate to those that were bound to her by blood. Once again in a battle with the old marines she was the only one who survived. However, this time she didn't have the fortune of finding herself being picked up by a harmless group of pirates.
Weapons/ Items:
Abilities:
Hand to hand combat expert-Abbigaill is a talented hand to hand combatant and specializes in a fighting style similar to boxing but with more jumping around and the occasional kick. Also she fights dirty as hell so its wise for people to guard their crotches when engaged with her in combat.
The Suitchi-Suitchi no mi(switch-switch fruit) is a paramecia type devil fruit that grants its user the ability to switch on areas where a charge can be manipulated. After coming into physical contact with an object the user can switch the spot on. What this means is a dark circle will appear at the area of contact followed by the initial charge the user wants the area to be. These spots can also be activated at any time, anywhere, on Abbigaill's body. These activated areas are represented in a yellow(-), red(+) or blue (0) circle. These 'charges' push away from similar charges and pull opposite charges together. The exception is the blue charge which has no effect on any other charges and acts as a place holder more than anything else. When a negatively and positively charged object come into contact all the kinetic energy in the action goes into the positively charged object(s). When two negatively charged objects react together there's no damage on either side, and when two positively charged objects press against each other both sides receive the same amount of kinetic force. Through direct physical contact it is possible to move the activated area from one object to another. .
Abbigaill is capable of holding six activated areas at a time, and can switch an activated area's charge at a moment's notice. She's also able to manipulate the total forces behind the reactions of the charges, but she cannot finely tune the forces... ie it the amount of force behind one reaction applies to them all. The maximum range she can hold a space active is 50 meters.
Techniques:
Orange Air gun-Abbigaill touches the air with her finger and creates a small positive charge in the air. Then she activates another positive charge on her finger. This causes the activated air to shoot forward like a bullet that tracks its target. She can do this is semi-automatic fashion but cannot fire another bullet till the first one found its mark or the air will simply dissipate before reaching its target.
Orange Megaton punch-Abbigaill marks an object with a positive charge, and activates a negative charge on her fist. Then she cranks up the power and literally goes flying towards whatever it is she wants to hit.
Other: |
1,340 | 28 | 12 | 310 | 290 | The doctor smiles and gestures at a back alley." They'll be trying to stop us at every turn so let's convene at the one you came in on." Smirks devilishly and raises a flask as more soldiers start into the town center. He smashes the flask a giant plume of white ice fog filling the center of town as he walks towards the docks in the confusion removing the face face and glasses smiling like the devil . | Name: Calder Graham,
Alias: N/A
Appearance:
Age: 26
Position on the Ship: Musician/Bard
Personality: . Calder is a very talkative person making jokes even at the most serious of times. He loves to tell stories whether they are true or not. Calder is also very cocky and arrogant at the best of times. Everything is like a game to him and he makes his own forms of entertainment. The only times he isn't cocky, is when someone either angers him or someone dies that he was close with.
Background: Calder grew up in a remote little village as a poor little street urchin. He fought tooth and nail just to survive. Learning the art of music, when he started it was with a banjo. Playing for money he got pretty good at it. Calder left his village in search of seeing if he could make more money playing for more populated towns. As his skill increased, so did what people paid him.
One day he played for a bunch of marines in a tavern known as the Drunken Tavern who paid him but they were short one cash. They had intended on short changing Calder and he would have none of it. So Calder broke into their ship late at night, and stole a few things one being a special Guitar. The Guitar sort of called out to Calder the moment he saw it as if it was destiny for him to have it. The moment he stole it, and got off the ship, the marines were going nuts and he ran. Calder has been under a small bounty ever since, the marines had a prototype weapon stolen. Calder ended up joining a pirate crew to keep out of the marine's clutches.
Weapons/ Items: A Guitar that has a storm devil fruit in it. That fires off balls of thunder clouds and other storm like stuff. The Guitar has two forms a normal looking guitar and Devil Fruit Form. It only works in devil fruit, and transforms on command of the wielder.
Other gear he has, Carver has a bag of dials. Three breathe dials, one flame dial, a recording dial, and an impact dial. Calder collects dials all when ever he sees one. He is in constant search for a specific dial, he wants a reject dial.
Abilities: Calder has a few abilities, that go along with his natural ability to play a special guitar.. He plays it when it is in devil fruit form.
Techniques:
Power Cord- The ability sends out a small cloud ball of thunder
Power Concert- A barrage of cloud balls of thunder.
Other: N/A |
1,341 | 28 | 13 | 1,686 | 476 | Aka
Aka realized that Lisa was chasing after her. She did expect something like this to happen in one way or another, as she sent a few javelins in front of Lisa. Those javelins weren't meant to kill Lisa, but instead it is used to buy time for Aka to back away to a more favorable ground. Things weren't so fortunate for Aka, the street she was in is just a straight wide street with no place for her to ambush. The end of the street is the Harbour, which is pretty much a dead end to her considering that she is a mere street gang without any boats for stowaway.
Impossible, that guy is still alive? Aka hissed as she turned back to face her opponent. Its clear that the Marine Lisa isn't any pushover, and would have caught up to her by now. With her back facing near the harbour, Aka pulled out her javelin, holding it tight with her two hands, using it as a spear seeing that kiting Lisa isn't an option considering how she's faster than Aka. "I'm not Bomberman, I'm Aka ~" Aka smiled as she thrusted her javelin towards Lisa's heart, as a last stand attempt against the Marines. She was ready to fall at this place, and had no regrets to what she did. Yeahh, just blow up as much Marines as possible... ~ | Name: Aka
Alias: Bomberman
Appearance:
Age: 17
Position on the Ship: Sniper
Personality:
Aka is a confident girl who values her honor & pride. She is often blunt & honest, often saying things in a straightforward or even vulgar manner. As a gang member, Aka is pretty focused on her line of work, having a tight but benevolent grasp on her turfs, ensuring that her clients respect her authority. She's open-minded, and generally a nice girl to talk with. She's a bad smoker due to her cigarettes exploding uncontrollably from her abilities. Also, she's a horrible cook, but she is kindof a food critic and a picky eater. Just like a typical person in East Blue, she was still unaware of devil fruits, the only thing she knows about her abilities is that she can explode instinctively.
Background: Aka was born from a wealthy family of Shell Town, living without worry until she was about 6 years old, but at that point things took a turn to the worse. She was fed a devil fruit by her parents (which they obtained through connections) and had accidentally killed them at the moment her explosive abilities activated. Left alone and abandoned, Aka lived the rest of her life in the back alley, rising up as a leader of a street gang due to her abiltiies & power. Not many dares to approach her turf without caution due to her "unexplained" exploding spears.
Weapons/ Items:
Javelins - Aka have bundles of Javelin, often with a few strands of her hair strung along it for use in conjunction with her Devil Fruit Ability.
Abilities:
Javelin - Aka is good in throwing javelins with dead accuracy from a far range, she could also use it as a melee weapon to hold her own at short-range combat.
Bomu Bomu no mi (Bomb Bomb Fruit) - A Paramecia Devil Fruit that gives explosive properties to any part of her body, whether it be hair, mucus, or breath. Aka is still rather imprecise on controlling the size of her explosions.
Techniques:
Exploding Javelin - Aka's Javelins which are strung with her hair can explode upon impact
Cannons - Aka can fire ship cannons at longer range and firepower due to her abilities, but, the cannon that she is using will be destroyed mostly due to too much firepower.
Other: PS: Yes, her sworn brothers will die shortly after the start ~~ |
1,342 | 28 | 14 | 2,305 | 2,031 | Captain Ruckus walked toward the docks for a few minutes, silent in thought before stopping. HIs eyes narrowed at a familiar looking form heading away from the carnage. The man's face cracked into a grin. It looked out of place there like a star inside a black hole. Without a word he increased his pace and quickly caught up with the man and his trunk. "Interesting turn of events." The captain said slowly, savoring the words. "Wouldn't you say so, Agent Hallelujah?"
For a moment, Handel stiffened, but it soon passed as he continued walking, picking up his pace ever-so-slightly. He turned to look at the voice that called him from behind and put on a fake smile of relief. "Captain Ruckus! Just the man I was looking for! Shame what happened in the town square, isn't it? A real shame, so many unruly pirates interrupting our ceremony. I figured, 'these pirates must be making towards the dock to secure themselves an escape,' so I came here as fast as I could, if only to slow them down with what little strength I have. But it appears great minds think alike; and now that you're here, those pirates haven't a chance! Tell me the game plan, and I'll follow it to-the-letter."
He doubted this little ploy would actually work; Handel's desertion may not be known by all marines, but Ruckus probably knew. Handel's best hope was for the escaping pirates to show up, they'd have to fight Ruckus to get off the island, which should distract him long enough for Handel to make his own escape. | Name: Handel Haydn Hallelujah
Alias: Commander Hallelujah, Agent Hallelujah, The Fiddler Crab
Replace the labcoat with a marine's 'Justice' jacket.Age: 30
Position on the Ship: Navigator
Personality:Handel seems friendly but in a 'get under your skin' sort of way. An eavesdropper at heart, he likes to plant baby den den mushi in private locations to hear other peoples' conversations and ends up knowing more information about people than they expect. He is a bit excessive compulsive and can be very particular when it comes to the tidiness of his belongings. He is a deep thinker and surprisingly empathetic. His quest is to bring back a moral and ethical government. He is always wearing a somewhat creepy smile that makes it hard for others to guess his thoughts. Handel hates when a plan doesn't go right. Handel tends to be a bit flirty with people he's close to regardless of gender.Background:Handel grew up the son of a rich, military family. He learned to play string instruments when he was young and was set to become a great marine as his inevitable future career. He joined the marines, keeping peace and helping take down weak pirates in the name of peace and justice, eventually working his way up to being commander and second in command of a ship, where he supported his captain with brilliant strategies that prioritized the survival of the crew, making as few sacrifices as possible, and even preventing the loss of life of the enemy, earning his captain a reputation of mercy.
These strategies earned Handel a transfer from normal navy service into the intelligence division, where he became an agent of Cipher Pol 1, CP1. Here he utilized his ability to gather and exploit information in preventative schemes that stopped violence and uprisings before they began. Yet more and more, he was being asked to make difficult choices and to prioritize 'efficiency' and secrecy over the lives of his enemies and the soldiers he was responsible for. He went along with the flow, comforting himself with moral justifications until it became too much for him. He realized he had become a man who no longer saw other humans as people but as numbers in his calculations. He had been numbed to the atrocities he had committed in the name of 'justice'. In the middle of an important government operation, Handel let slip the amount of soldiers that would be sacrificed among the navy as well as spilling information to the enemy, giving them a chance to escape. This saved numerous lives from both sides, but convicted him of high treason. He had prepared for this outcome, and had asked his father in a letter to disown him, and then he slipped away and went into hiding before the marines came to arrest him. His family is safe, having enough money and clout to avoid trouble from the marines. Since Handel deserted before the Marine schism, he is unsure how he is viewed by the Shielding Marines, though he is certain the Old Marines want him dead, having placed a 5,000,000 Beri bounty on his head. He suspects the Shielding marines remember the atrocities he has orchestrated rather than the fact that he has abandoned that life.Weapons/ Items:String Bass (Shield)Bass Bow (Sword)Various other musical instrumentsDen Den Mushi Set including several regular ones, a few baby ones, and a black one.Abilities:Handel is an inventor and a spy, who uses sound vibrations and information on his enemies to deadly effect. He knows navigation, and has some medical knowledge (mostly anesthesiology, pain management and psychosomatics) so he can be an assistant doctor but not the main doctor. He is better as a strategist, infiltrator or assassin.Techniques:In close range, he uses a unique sword and shield fighting style. The back of his bass is steel-plated, he holds the neck of the base, planting the spike of the bass in the ground with it's back towards the enemy as a massive riot shield. The bow of his fiddle has a blade along its edge which he swings as a short sword. He is also strong enough to lift the bass and swing it around, using the spike at the bottom to impale foes. He has learned how to use vibrations and sound to affect various materials, as long as he tweaks the frequency. Typically, the stiffer and more brittle a material is, the easier it is to damage it with sound. He can imbue his sword/bow with a frequency by running it along the strings of the base and then striking with the sword giving it a property to easily cleave through the specific material it was tuned to. He can also launch out sonic attacks at range, but sound dissipates with distance and is considerably weaker. He often plays on his own turf, scattering Den Den Mushi around to relay sonic attacks and create harmonic/acoustic zones where his sonic attacks are much more powerful. Handel knows various ways of using sound to affect the human body. He has the ability to infiltrate Marine ships and bases due to his background and intercept communications with his black Den Den Mushi. Handel requires information on the enemy to be most effective. His most powerful attacks take time or require preparation beforehand. He has limited long range capabilities, and is more defensive than offensive. He is only a decent swordsman at best, and relies more on surprise, advantage, and finesse. He runs the role of 'support mage' for the most part.Other:Handel is used to luxury and is a big spender. His musical inventions are also not cheap, so he'll tend to splurge the crews treasure on extravagant shopping sprees. |
1,343 | 28 | 15 | 1,489 | 1,400 | Abbigaill paused to look back at the man with the strange smile on his face. "Uh. You mean the marine ship?" She blinked and looked around. "We could do that. I mean, a ship is a ship, right? Long as it moves across the seas I'll take anything." It was tempting to say more, maybe make a joke or two, but bullets started flying behind them. Which was one thing, but the loud, buzzing sound moving towards them was even more concerning.
Effen paused as the man he called walked up to him and questioned what it was he wanted. "What do I want?" The marine's puppet crossed his arms and shook his head. "For starters, what I want, is for the common man such as yourself to stop acting like every marine in the world is someone to be defensive against. As for why I called you over." He paused and leaned forward to get a better look at the man. There was something familiar about the figure but he couldn't put his mind on it. "You aren't from around here. So what I want is a name and a reason for what you're doing here in Shell town."
Lisa's eyes narrowed at the woman's sudden change in direction. There was a moment's hesitation behind her eyes where things flashed and possibilities danced like anxious old folks at a conga line. She wasn't a fool. One couldn't get as far as she was if being a fool. Of course, she didn't slow down as she moved and by the time she realized what was going to happen, it was too late and the javelin was thrusting forwards towards her chest. The sharp end went through, with no problems, but there wasn't any blood.
"Close." Lisa said, jumping back before her target could cause an explosion. "But not close enough." Without waiting for a response from her target, Aka's opponent's made a fist and her hand, followed by her arm shot forward as if on a spring.
Ruckus stepped up to the man he was addressing and put his arms behind his back as he waited for the former marine to finish his lines. Once it became apparent that the man had completely what he had to said the marine captain grunted and shook his head. "Great minds indeed. It's insulating for a traitor like you to claim us having anything in common what so ever." He smiled. "Now, normally I'd prefer to kill you were you stand, but the world government is in a kick these days. They want public executions and a lot of them. So if you surrender now and come quietly I can guarantee you a few extra days of life as your shipped off in a boat to whatever little piece of land they want to try this on next." He shrugged. "Or you can resist. It really doesn't make much difference to me. Personally I prefer you resist." The larger man's eyes narrowed. "It would really help me to relieve this aggression I've built up over that botched job you did before running like a dog." | Name: Abbigaill L. Ranneh
Alias: Rainbow Fist
Appearance:
Age: 25
Position on the Ship: Captain
Personality: Abbigaill is fiercely loyal to her friends and allies. She believes herself as nothing more than the creation of the world around her and so does what she can to make other people greater. She's also quick to forgive others in most situations as again we're all just pieces of a game of dominoes falling on each other. The one exception to this is when someone messes with a person she's close to or cares about deeply. Do that and hell boils out. It's this level of caring that has caused Abbigaill to keep mostly to herself as she has a hard time doing the right thing when her heart is in the way.
It is due to her understanding of what people really are that she has decided to resist both kinds of marines as their ideas, noble as some may be, are not meant for the future, but more for a more peaceful present.
Abbigaill's biggest problem, if one were to ask her deceased family was an inability to take things seriously. Even after all the tragedy in her life its hard for her to invest too much energy into worrying. She'd rather relax, have a few drinks, or just take a nap and watch the sunrise. To her the world is full of great things and even while living on a mission to free it from oppressive hands one can't be expected to surrender everything that would make their personal life worth living.
Abbigaill has a snarky and biting sense of humor which usually surfaces in times of great stress and danger as if daring the god of death to try and do to her what it did to her parents. She can't really control this as her mouth seems to her to be working independently of her brain. She can bite her lip but usually by then its too late and all the blood in the world isn't going to get the cat back into its hat.
Background: Half of Abbigaill's young life was spent living in a tiny town with her parents and younger siblings in Shell town. There she made few friends, because with so many siblings who needed anyone else, but the few she made turned into people she became very close to.
The second half was spent on the road. She never did quiet find out why. One night her parents woke her and the rest of her kin up and said they had to go! That night they boarded a ship and headed out to. From there on they made their home wherever work could be found for a little while. It wasn't a wise move and most of her siblings died early on, but her parents were adamant about the decision and would never explain why. One day they found themselves caught in a crossfire between the two groups of marines. The tiny vessel they were on never stood a chance and the rest of Abbigaill's family perished. The only reason she survived was thanks to a scavenging group of pirates who managed to find her and take her on board.
These people became her family. Several years were spent adventuring and learning with the group. Sadly they met with a similar fate to those that were bound to her by blood. Once again in a battle with the old marines she was the only one who survived. However, this time she didn't have the fortune of finding herself being picked up by a harmless group of pirates.
Weapons/ Items:
Abilities:
Hand to hand combat expert-Abbigaill is a talented hand to hand combatant and specializes in a fighting style similar to boxing but with more jumping around and the occasional kick. Also she fights dirty as hell so its wise for people to guard their crotches when engaged with her in combat.
The Suitchi-Suitchi no mi(switch-switch fruit) is a paramecia type devil fruit that grants its user the ability to switch on areas where a charge can be manipulated. After coming into physical contact with an object the user can switch the spot on. What this means is a dark circle will appear at the area of contact followed by the initial charge the user wants the area to be. These spots can also be activated at any time, anywhere, on Abbigaill's body. These activated areas are represented in a yellow(-), red(+) or blue (0) circle. These 'charges' push away from similar charges and pull opposite charges together. The exception is the blue charge which has no effect on any other charges and acts as a place holder more than anything else. When a negatively and positively charged object come into contact all the kinetic energy in the action goes into the positively charged object(s). When two negatively charged objects react together there's no damage on either side, and when two positively charged objects press against each other both sides receive the same amount of kinetic force. Through direct physical contact it is possible to move the activated area from one object to another. .
Abbigaill is capable of holding six activated areas at a time, and can switch an activated area's charge at a moment's notice. She's also able to manipulate the total forces behind the reactions of the charges, but she cannot finely tune the forces... ie it the amount of force behind one reaction applies to them all. The maximum range she can hold a space active is 50 meters.
Techniques:
Orange Air gun-Abbigaill touches the air with her finger and creates a small positive charge in the air. Then she activates another positive charge on her finger. This causes the activated air to shoot forward like a bullet that tracks its target. She can do this is semi-automatic fashion but cannot fire another bullet till the first one found its mark or the air will simply dissipate before reaching its target.
Orange Megaton punch-Abbigaill marks an object with a positive charge, and activates a negative charge on her fist. Then she cranks up the power and literally goes flying towards whatever it is she wants to hit.
Other: |
1,344 | 28 | 16 | 310 | 290 | Calder Graham
'What's my name? Good question, oh I have the perfect answer for him.' Were the thoughts in Calder's mind as he started to think of how he would answer the question he then answers, "My name is Nunna Beesness, I know it's a very exotic name. I am a very exotic person, you see I sell shells. That's why I am in shell town, sounds like the best place to sell some shells."
Calder pulls out a random dial and shows it to the marine in front of him then gets a bit closer then says, "See its a shell, girls love them you see. They can be made for a gift for anyone really." Calder lying through his teeth not sure what dial he grabbed he had a one in three chances of three dials between a flame, breath, or impact. The breath dial wouldn't help much, the flame dial is more ideal he could light this marine ablaze. The impact would hurt himself but would throw out any stored energy within it, if he remembered to storage energy in it.
It looks like a shell, Calder hoped that would be enough to con this Marine to drop his guard as he got closer, and as close as he could get. Should this fail to sell his story he prepared to use it. Calder giving a friendly smile trying to seem nothing more than a salesmen. Although his name he gave them might just get him in trouble if it is too looked into. | Name: Calder Graham,
Alias: N/A
Appearance:
Age: 26
Position on the Ship: Musician/Bard
Personality: . Calder is a very talkative person making jokes even at the most serious of times. He loves to tell stories whether they are true or not. Calder is also very cocky and arrogant at the best of times. Everything is like a game to him and he makes his own forms of entertainment. The only times he isn't cocky, is when someone either angers him or someone dies that he was close with.
Background: Calder grew up in a remote little village as a poor little street urchin. He fought tooth and nail just to survive. Learning the art of music, when he started it was with a banjo. Playing for money he got pretty good at it. Calder left his village in search of seeing if he could make more money playing for more populated towns. As his skill increased, so did what people paid him.
One day he played for a bunch of marines in a tavern known as the Drunken Tavern who paid him but they were short one cash. They had intended on short changing Calder and he would have none of it. So Calder broke into their ship late at night, and stole a few things one being a special Guitar. The Guitar sort of called out to Calder the moment he saw it as if it was destiny for him to have it. The moment he stole it, and got off the ship, the marines were going nuts and he ran. Calder has been under a small bounty ever since, the marines had a prototype weapon stolen. Calder ended up joining a pirate crew to keep out of the marine's clutches.
Weapons/ Items: A Guitar that has a storm devil fruit in it. That fires off balls of thunder clouds and other storm like stuff. The Guitar has two forms a normal looking guitar and Devil Fruit Form. It only works in devil fruit, and transforms on command of the wielder.
Other gear he has, Carver has a bag of dials. Three breathe dials, one flame dial, a recording dial, and an impact dial. Calder collects dials all when ever he sees one. He is in constant search for a specific dial, he wants a reject dial.
Abilities: Calder has a few abilities, that go along with his natural ability to play a special guitar.. He plays it when it is in devil fruit form.
Techniques:
Power Cord- The ability sends out a small cloud ball of thunder
Power Concert- A barrage of cloud balls of thunder.
Other: N/A |
1,345 | 28 | 17 | 1,686 | 476 | Aka
What? Aka had a hard time perceiving what had happened in front of her. She was pretty sure that she had pierced Lisa right in the vital areas. Forget about surviving that, let alone stepping back at a speed fast enough for her spear to completely not ignite at all. Not only that, it seemed to Aka that the retreating shots she sent to Lisa before the melee engagement, was completely useless in slowing her down.
Next, a fist is sent towards Aka, even when she was convinced that she wasn't within the reach of Lisa's fists. Aka hastily blocked that punch with her arm, and with one flick of her wrist, Aka created an explosion on the hand that she was blocking that attack with, hoping to send back the damage from the recoil. Just what the heck is this?
She wasn't so good at melee battles for one reason: she can't last long in such engagements. Sure she could hold her own in the short-term, but once the time starts ticking, she would be worn out and be an easy target for enemies. | Name: Aka
Alias: Bomberman
Appearance:
Age: 17
Position on the Ship: Sniper
Personality:
Aka is a confident girl who values her honor & pride. She is often blunt & honest, often saying things in a straightforward or even vulgar manner. As a gang member, Aka is pretty focused on her line of work, having a tight but benevolent grasp on her turfs, ensuring that her clients respect her authority. She's open-minded, and generally a nice girl to talk with. She's a bad smoker due to her cigarettes exploding uncontrollably from her abilities. Also, she's a horrible cook, but she is kindof a food critic and a picky eater. Just like a typical person in East Blue, she was still unaware of devil fruits, the only thing she knows about her abilities is that she can explode instinctively.
Background: Aka was born from a wealthy family of Shell Town, living without worry until she was about 6 years old, but at that point things took a turn to the worse. She was fed a devil fruit by her parents (which they obtained through connections) and had accidentally killed them at the moment her explosive abilities activated. Left alone and abandoned, Aka lived the rest of her life in the back alley, rising up as a leader of a street gang due to her abiltiies & power. Not many dares to approach her turf without caution due to her "unexplained" exploding spears.
Weapons/ Items:
Javelins - Aka have bundles of Javelin, often with a few strands of her hair strung along it for use in conjunction with her Devil Fruit Ability.
Abilities:
Javelin - Aka is good in throwing javelins with dead accuracy from a far range, she could also use it as a melee weapon to hold her own at short-range combat.
Bomu Bomu no mi (Bomb Bomb Fruit) - A Paramecia Devil Fruit that gives explosive properties to any part of her body, whether it be hair, mucus, or breath. Aka is still rather imprecise on controlling the size of her explosions.
Techniques:
Exploding Javelin - Aka's Javelins which are strung with her hair can explode upon impact
Cannons - Aka can fire ship cannons at longer range and firepower due to her abilities, but, the cannon that she is using will be destroyed mostly due to too much firepower.
Other: PS: Yes, her sworn brothers will die shortly after the start ~~ |
1,346 | 28 | 18 | 2,305 | 2,031 | Ruckus stepped up to the man he was addressing and put his arms behind his back as he waited for the former marine to finish his lines. Once it became apparent that the man had completely what he had to said the marine captain grunted and shook his head. "Great minds indeed. It's insulating for a traitor like you to claim us having anything in common what so ever." He smiled. "Now, normally I'd prefer to kill you were you stand, but the world government is in a kick these days. They want public executions and a lot of them. So if you surrender now and come quietly I can guarantee you a few extra days of life as your shipped off in a boat to whatever little piece of land they want to try this on next." He shrugged. "Or you can resist. It really doesn't make much difference to me. Personally I prefer you resist." The larger man's eyes narrowed. "It would really help me to relieve this aggression I've built up over that botched job you did before running like a dog."
Handel's grin wavered slightly as it became apparent that his little bluff wasn't going to work on Ruckus. He tried to recall what he knew about Ruckus and the files he had on him from the operation. He needed to know what his opponent was capable of.
"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I prefer if I don't resist," Handel said, slowly laying his trunk down flat and sitting himself down right on top of it. This created a strange situation for himself: Handel is extremely close to his musical weapons inside the trunk, but cannot access them unless he stands up.
"The issue is, my good captain, that the only one who knows that I'm here, is you, but the whole town knows that not only is Rainbow Fist escaping her execution, but Leviathan and Sayuri of the Bloody Scales are also here, while the Bomberman is running amok. Failure to capture these dangerous criminals would put an unsightly smear on your impeccable reputation, but failure to capture me...why, only you would know of it and your reputation wpuld remain untarnished. You see capturing all of us might be possible for a great captain like you, but let even one of them go, and it would be an open failure. Both of us know how competitive it is among Marine Captains, vying for position, ready to exploit each others' weaknesses and faults. Surely you have a few rivals who are just waiting to drag your name through the mud over a tiny little mistake. Of course, I wouldn't tell a soul if you let me go; it would draw too much attention to myself, after all. And as long as I remain seated, we both know that I'm no threat to you, but when those others come, you'll either have to keep one eye on me at all times to make sure I don't stand up and attack you, or you fight at your full capacity and let me walk away, just this once."
Handel continued to smile amiably with one leg crossed over the other as he listened to the sound of carnage in the town, slowly getting louder as the pirates and outlaws eventually make their way to the docks. | Name: Handel Haydn Hallelujah
Alias: Commander Hallelujah, Agent Hallelujah, The Fiddler Crab
Replace the labcoat with a marine's 'Justice' jacket.Age: 30
Position on the Ship: Navigator
Personality:Handel seems friendly but in a 'get under your skin' sort of way. An eavesdropper at heart, he likes to plant baby den den mushi in private locations to hear other peoples' conversations and ends up knowing more information about people than they expect. He is a bit excessive compulsive and can be very particular when it comes to the tidiness of his belongings. He is a deep thinker and surprisingly empathetic. His quest is to bring back a moral and ethical government. He is always wearing a somewhat creepy smile that makes it hard for others to guess his thoughts. Handel hates when a plan doesn't go right. Handel tends to be a bit flirty with people he's close to regardless of gender.Background:Handel grew up the son of a rich, military family. He learned to play string instruments when he was young and was set to become a great marine as his inevitable future career. He joined the marines, keeping peace and helping take down weak pirates in the name of peace and justice, eventually working his way up to being commander and second in command of a ship, where he supported his captain with brilliant strategies that prioritized the survival of the crew, making as few sacrifices as possible, and even preventing the loss of life of the enemy, earning his captain a reputation of mercy.
These strategies earned Handel a transfer from normal navy service into the intelligence division, where he became an agent of Cipher Pol 1, CP1. Here he utilized his ability to gather and exploit information in preventative schemes that stopped violence and uprisings before they began. Yet more and more, he was being asked to make difficult choices and to prioritize 'efficiency' and secrecy over the lives of his enemies and the soldiers he was responsible for. He went along with the flow, comforting himself with moral justifications until it became too much for him. He realized he had become a man who no longer saw other humans as people but as numbers in his calculations. He had been numbed to the atrocities he had committed in the name of 'justice'. In the middle of an important government operation, Handel let slip the amount of soldiers that would be sacrificed among the navy as well as spilling information to the enemy, giving them a chance to escape. This saved numerous lives from both sides, but convicted him of high treason. He had prepared for this outcome, and had asked his father in a letter to disown him, and then he slipped away and went into hiding before the marines came to arrest him. His family is safe, having enough money and clout to avoid trouble from the marines. Since Handel deserted before the Marine schism, he is unsure how he is viewed by the Shielding Marines, though he is certain the Old Marines want him dead, having placed a 5,000,000 Beri bounty on his head. He suspects the Shielding marines remember the atrocities he has orchestrated rather than the fact that he has abandoned that life.Weapons/ Items:String Bass (Shield)Bass Bow (Sword)Various other musical instrumentsDen Den Mushi Set including several regular ones, a few baby ones, and a black one.Abilities:Handel is an inventor and a spy, who uses sound vibrations and information on his enemies to deadly effect. He knows navigation, and has some medical knowledge (mostly anesthesiology, pain management and psychosomatics) so he can be an assistant doctor but not the main doctor. He is better as a strategist, infiltrator or assassin.Techniques:In close range, he uses a unique sword and shield fighting style. The back of his bass is steel-plated, he holds the neck of the base, planting the spike of the bass in the ground with it's back towards the enemy as a massive riot shield. The bow of his fiddle has a blade along its edge which he swings as a short sword. He is also strong enough to lift the bass and swing it around, using the spike at the bottom to impale foes. He has learned how to use vibrations and sound to affect various materials, as long as he tweaks the frequency. Typically, the stiffer and more brittle a material is, the easier it is to damage it with sound. He can imbue his sword/bow with a frequency by running it along the strings of the base and then striking with the sword giving it a property to easily cleave through the specific material it was tuned to. He can also launch out sonic attacks at range, but sound dissipates with distance and is considerably weaker. He often plays on his own turf, scattering Den Den Mushi around to relay sonic attacks and create harmonic/acoustic zones where his sonic attacks are much more powerful. Handel knows various ways of using sound to affect the human body. He has the ability to infiltrate Marine ships and bases due to his background and intercept communications with his black Den Den Mushi. Handel requires information on the enemy to be most effective. His most powerful attacks take time or require preparation beforehand. He has limited long range capabilities, and is more defensive than offensive. He is only a decent swordsman at best, and relies more on surprise, advantage, and finesse. He runs the role of 'support mage' for the most part.Other:Handel is used to luxury and is a big spender. His musical inventions are also not cheap, so he'll tend to splurge the crews treasure on extravagant shopping sprees. |
1,347 | 28 | 19 | 619 | 2,638 | Chester claps as bullets wizz by his head." Great I'll wander off and secure a ship for us it will be ready for you when you get there. Look for my signal it will be a blast. " he walks off in a brisk pace down an alleyway three vials of roiling blue liquid labeled explosive in between three fingers and three poisoned darts in the other. he ambushes a marine on a rooftop and steals his Marine uniform leaving him paralyzed in someone's house. He then heads towards the pier yelling." rainbow fist is coming we have to stop her I'll get the men stationed at the barracks and ships everyone let's make formation and ambush her and anyone else who comes through " runs ahead in the confusion slipping aboard a the ships "warning everyone of the pirates coming to the pier now. Meanwhile he's settings small vials tenderly in the powder holds on all but a small fast ship. He incapacitates the crew silently and waits below the deck with the paralyzed crew smiling. a cannon aimed and prepped at the waiting formation of Marines as the group starts to reach the marina. " Careful planning is stronger than steel. Unless of course it's bad planning then it's barely wet paper on the sidewalk oh I should pay attention" he smiles to himself getting ready to fire. | Name: Bella Nocturne
Alias: Nightshade Chef
Appearance:
Age: 27
Position on the Ship: Cook
Personality: Curious is one word that can easily describe Bella. Her curiosity has led her into many a problematic situation. Creativity is another defining factor of who Bella is it takes some creativity to hide the taste of toxins. She hates waste, both effort and resources. She considers bad cooks to be a waste of her oxygen, though she believes those who are learning to cook or trying to improve are worth the combined weight of the kitchen in gold.
Background: Growing up in a well off family she wanted for nothing but spent time in the kitchen watching the servants working. One day on a trip to another island for a fun vacation their ship was destroyed by pirates she floated on some flotsam to a deserted island at the age of eleven. Her life took a horrid turn on that island but it helped shape her into who she is. 9 years on that island gave her time to learn to survive and more importantly kill things so she can survive as well as different ways to do it. Rescued by a ship that stopped to investigate and brought her back to civilization. Back in civilization she got a job working as a cook in a bar and proceeded to work up the chain.
Weapons/ Items: Assorted Knives, Collection vials, Poison test strips, a collection of basic poisons
Abilities: Encyclopedic knowledge of poisonous/venomous flora/fauna, Advanced knife skills, Good accuracy with thrown objects.
Techniques:
Chaos toss- a method of throwing knives in quick succession with no intention of clustering the wounds.
Fabricating strike- a fast precise strike meant to damage muscle tissue.
Ricochet- Bouncing a knife to throw impossible angles
Other: |
1,348 | 29 | 0 | 1,077 | 1,122 | It's a quiet morning. The birds chirp and the fountain burbles, happily. The students of Blackwell are drowsily waking up from their long holidays to begin a new term. One, hopefully, without any drama.
However, there is a buzz about a Twitter page that bullies and sends out hurtful comments. The account owner has yet to be found and an assembly is to be held the next day. Compulsory for every single Blackwell student. | || ||
Fleur Ellanise
29 December 1999, 17 yrs.
Light soft brown hair in waves. Light golden brown eyes. Usually wears some sort of knit sweater and jean shorts. A slim physique and a welcoming, warm air. Always smells like cinnamon and chocolate.
Amiable, Honest, Eccentric, Considerate, Geeky, Party Animal and Kind
She has a very warm family, 2 brothers (one older, one younger) an older sister and perfect parents. Now, with all the stress that one of her older brothers put on her she has less time to party and has to spend more time studying. She wants to get into one of the best universities out there (MIT) and she'll do everything to make her family and herself, proud. The stress that is riding on her shoulders however, is making her more stressful and serious. Her parents want to make sure that she gets the future they all want because her siblings went off to below average universities even though they were smart. She shouldn't have to go through that. She plans on enrolling into the Vortex club so she can write that down in her resume and get a quick pass, even though she hates the Vortex club and the stuff they stand for she still needs in. She somehow managed to charm her way into their ranks but dangles at the edge. She hopes to make many life long friends at Blackwell and learn so much more about her beloved topic, Physics. She's carefree once she's at Blackwell, way away from the eyes of her family but she still knows what she has to do and works hard to make sure that her family's dream is completed.
218
Her room has a lot of fairy lights strung up all around. Her blinds are usually open to let in the sunlight and moonlight. She makes sure that her room always has some sort of light on, her door is open and people are invited to come in. Her couch is peppered with colorful and soft cushions along with her flute. Her desk is filled with various books, her state of the art (yet battered) laptop and a cool pendulum. She had science posters and pictures of her family and friends tacked on the wall, horizontally and perfectly lined up. You can find her room sometimes in a state of mess but it always smells nice and there's lots of sunlight so there's that.
Super senses
~ Can use the 5 senses with an enhanced ability, hearing things far away etc.
- Can only be used in a very short amount of time (10 seconds)
* Takes a cool down of up to 30 minutes before being used again, this time with less senses than normal.
* Takes the next day until she can return to her normal level of senses again.
Science Subzone
Brain club
Vortex club |
1,349 | 29 | 1 | 1,077 | 1,122 | “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” - Albert Einstein
Fleur woke up at around 5:40am and yawned. She stretched her hands over her head and went to her wardrobe. Slim fingers clutched around a light brown knit sweater and a pair of dark jean shorts. She grabbed her shower basket and made her way out of her room. She walked down the hallway, she could hear a buzz of laughter and sound as she made her way to the showers. She pushed open the door and headed to one of the stalls.
After her cold shower (she didn't want to be the cause of the hot water running out in the girls dorm.) she headed back to her room. Sunlight spilled in through her windows and her room was bathed in a warm light. She clicked off her fairy lights that she kept on every night and piled a bunch of her school books into her messenger bag. She opened up the compact that was lying on her desk and applied a quick slash of eyeliner and lip gloss before tying her hair up into a messy braided bun. She made her bed, messily before heading out of her room, messenger bag swinging from her shoulder as she headed to the cafeteria. The dewey bright green grass flattened as she walk over them in a pair of brown leather ankle boots before springing back into their immaculate blades once again. She moved through the doors of the cafeteria and into the relatively quiet bustle of the food hall. The smell of coffee and pancakes reached her and she gave a small smile, grabbing a warm plate from a stack at the front and filling her plate with french toast, fruit and bacon as well as a glass of orange juice before settling down onto an empty table. She took one of her physics books out of her bag and lay it flat against the table, reading from it while she lifted forkfuls of french toast into her mouth. It was a quiet morning and she was grateful for that. She was smiling slowly as she read, sipping from her glass of orange glass and quirking an eyebrow at lines in the book that she particularly liked. | || ||
Fleur Ellanise
29 December 1999, 17 yrs.
Light soft brown hair in waves. Light golden brown eyes. Usually wears some sort of knit sweater and jean shorts. A slim physique and a welcoming, warm air. Always smells like cinnamon and chocolate.
Amiable, Honest, Eccentric, Considerate, Geeky, Party Animal and Kind
She has a very warm family, 2 brothers (one older, one younger) an older sister and perfect parents. Now, with all the stress that one of her older brothers put on her she has less time to party and has to spend more time studying. She wants to get into one of the best universities out there (MIT) and she'll do everything to make her family and herself, proud. The stress that is riding on her shoulders however, is making her more stressful and serious. Her parents want to make sure that she gets the future they all want because her siblings went off to below average universities even though they were smart. She shouldn't have to go through that. She plans on enrolling into the Vortex club so she can write that down in her resume and get a quick pass, even though she hates the Vortex club and the stuff they stand for she still needs in. She somehow managed to charm her way into their ranks but dangles at the edge. She hopes to make many life long friends at Blackwell and learn so much more about her beloved topic, Physics. She's carefree once she's at Blackwell, way away from the eyes of her family but she still knows what she has to do and works hard to make sure that her family's dream is completed.
218
Her room has a lot of fairy lights strung up all around. Her blinds are usually open to let in the sunlight and moonlight. She makes sure that her room always has some sort of light on, her door is open and people are invited to come in. Her couch is peppered with colorful and soft cushions along with her flute. Her desk is filled with various books, her state of the art (yet battered) laptop and a cool pendulum. She had science posters and pictures of her family and friends tacked on the wall, horizontally and perfectly lined up. You can find her room sometimes in a state of mess but it always smells nice and there's lots of sunlight so there's that.
Super senses
~ Can use the 5 senses with an enhanced ability, hearing things far away etc.
- Can only be used in a very short amount of time (10 seconds)
* Takes a cool down of up to 30 minutes before being used again, this time with less senses than normal.
* Takes the next day until she can return to her normal level of senses again.
Science Subzone
Brain club
Vortex club |
1,350 | 29 | 2 | 2,286 | 691 | Greer was not the worlds best roommate to say the least. He'd just been assigned a room in the girls dorm, a mistake on the principals part, or perhaps it had been on purpose, he didn't give a stuff ... It was certainly no coincidence his roommate was transgender. They'd either be best friends forever by the end of the year, bonding over their non-gender-conforming similarities ... or they'd be insufferable for each other. Greer was an antithesis of sorts. He made a very pretty "girl", didn't correct when people called him a guy or a girl. He wasn't transitioning, and had no intentions to, some losers on Tumblr had called him a poser and claimed he was damaging the entire trans* movement ... But his style was just "him" ... he didn't care about definitions.
Maybe Mia was one of them types who hated him... or maybe Mia would like having someone to talk to who understood the trials of tucking?
Gender and appearances aside, Greer wasn't the easiest to live with anyway, staying up all hours reading, or scratching away in a sketchbook and cursing profusely which was an integral part of the creative process.
Greer lived on coffee and fruit-salad, a self-proclaimed "fruit bat". When he did finally cram in a few hours of sleep, they usually hit him suddenly and he'd straight up collapse or sleep in the middle of whatever activity he was doing. It wasn't narcolepsy, he'd been tested for it, he was just happy to sleep wherever and whenever he crashed. His unusual routines may have been annoying, but at the very least, he wasn't a nosey roommate, he wasn't messy and he didn't make too much noise aside from the scratch of pencils or brushes on canvas and a muttering of curses.
There was a guard outside their door of course, for fear the scary gender-nonconforming creatures in room 217 would commit all sorts of vile sexually deviant acts upon the poor unsuspecting girls on the hall ...
"Good grief could the PTA be any more incorrect ... it's the boys dorm that needs security not the girls ... " Greer thought to himself.
Greer had already developed a crush of course, because that's what school was all about wasn't it? Not that he'd told anyone of course. He wasn't capable of such sentimental emotions or fretting over anything as silly as a crush, nope, not Greer!!!
Pulling out his things, a wash bag, a black tulle skirt that just about hit his knees and a floaty black shirt with an asymmetrical hem. Black socks and lacy underwear (even under a skirt, a guy had to look his best!). Greer didn't have a particularly sharp or masculine face, but it certainly looked different without immaculate makeup. Today he had panda eyes, tangled black and white dreadlocks, and a loose band t-shirt over a pair of tracksuit bottoms that were splattered with paint. He was considerably androgynous, until his transformation into goth-girl was complete. Handsome and beautiful (not to mention perpetually intimidating) at the same time.
"Mia, get up" he said, shaking his roommates leg, voice gentle, but so clearly masculine there was no mistaking his biology despite his delicate looks.
"I have to put on my make-up and Captain Crunch won't let me take a shower unless you get your ass out of bed or stay in all day. Either be smelly today or get up right now."
Greer took to giving their guard a variety of different amusing names to entertain himself. Captain Crunch, Deputy Doorstep, Lady Bacon (because cops were called pigs, and she was basically an officer on their doorstop), and very sarcastically "Guardian Angel".
No matter how little sleep he had, he always got up with plenty of time to spend perfecting his hair and face. He had his black and white dreadlocks still twisted perfectly into place so that was easy, but makeup was an art and art took time.
"C'mon or I'll go to the boys dorm by myself and get into all sorts of trouble." Greer had no problem going over there, btu he'd been explicitly warned not to. | Name: Greer Allister McGregor
Birthdate and Age: June 13th (18)
Physical Appearance: Skinny, perhaps a little too skinny. Greer is ... alternative to say the least. Certainly a goth, Greer only wears black and perhaps a combination of some other colour, but mostly, just black. He's ... feminine to say the least. Biologically male (and well aware of it), Greer gets on better with the girls, mainly because he can be just as bitchy as them, and he freaks out the guys ... When people ask about his gender-identity, he generally adopts the stance "I don't give a fuck about my gender, why? Does it bother you?".
Rarely seen without perfectly applied black lipstick and sharp-eyeliner-flicks, he's the Queen of Lookin'-Mean. Beneath the make-up though, he's actually quite handsome (in a guy way too!)
Greer is tall, but wears tall boots anyway because they look good. Without contacts, Greer has stormy grey eyes and wears thick black glasses, usually though he has clear contact lenses in since his glasses aren't stylish enough for his tastes.
Personality: Sassy, independent, scathing, dark. Greer is your stereotypical tormented goth but with a killer sense of humour. Rather than adopting the "oppressed victim" stance some goths take, Greer is well aware he's alternative and it freaks some people out, instead of complaining about it, he takes it in his stride. He tries to maintain a dark, distant aura, but underneath he's quite sensitive and caring, he might have to kill you if you tell anyone though. Arrogant, he's clever and knows it.
Biography: Younger of two siblings, Greer is a first generation American immigrant from Scotland. He's close to his older sister, and despite his rebellious look and crossdressing habits, his parents are very supportive and the family is quite close. He's never been particularly deprived. Growing up in a small conservative town, Greer has had some ... unfavourable run-ins and has had to be a little tough. Don't ask if he's ever been in a fist tight.
Powers: Telepathy (mind reading)
Elective Class: Art through the Ages and Expression
Activities:Tennis and Art |
1,351 | 29 | 3 | 2,157 | 625 | The night was long and painful, usually he'd get to sleep by around 3:00 but the night was just against him. Alex spent the rest of the night reading and checking his page on a social media site, "oh.", Alex sighed, The phone beeped "6:00", time to start the term... and a new school year.
Alex showered for a short five minutes and got dressed in his everyday clothes, a dark hoodie, pants and laced plimsolls. He filled his small bag with the books for the day, placed his earphones in and walked out of the dorm towards the cafeteria, he thought he heard muffled insults but it was just his earphones. Alex arrived at the cafeteria hall and took a bowl from the stand, he didn't want anything too big so he just filled his bowl with the first cereal he saw, corn flakes, he picked up a spoon and traversed the side of the cafeteria to an empty table near the window, the sun shone through and made his table stand out, if anyone came he'd just leave and eat on the ground. | Name: Alex Denny
Birth date and Age: 23 may 1999, 17
Physical Appearance: he is lean and 5”8 tall, what you would expect the body shape to be like for a seventeen year old male. Across his back is a grim scar, a product of child abuse. His hair is unkempt, not combed; it looks as if he’d just woken up. Under his dark eyes are bags from sleep deprivation, nights of waking torture. Alex usually wears a dark hoodie, pants and laced plimsolls.
Personality: shy, sensitive, creative, silent, dorky and geeky.
Biography: as a child Alex was abused by his father for little to no reason other than being drunk, on Alex’s tenth birthday he hospitalized with a long cut across his back, obviously caused by his father. Since then Alex had been in the care of his grandparents, his father was sent to prison and if he was to ever be released there would be a restraining order; Alex’s grandparents were the ones who introduced to him writing and photography as a way to deal with his “ptsd”. At sixteen Alex moved into a Blackwell academy dorm room, he joined a club but didn’t make many friends (none at all), at seventeen things started getting strange.
Dorm Room: room 110: the room itself is pretty bland, just a bed to the right of the room and a desk to the left, the bed was just a white mattress with grey blankets and a pillow, the desk just held his laptop and a portrait of his grandparents. On his window are a few pictures he’d taken and bothered to print and laminate.
Powers: shapeshifting, he will be able to turn into anyone he has seen before in real life
he can only change once a day, ultimately being stuck in one form for 24 hours until he can change again.
Elective Class: literary circle for now
Activities: photography club |
1,352 | 29 | 4 | 803 | 3,342 | Nicole woke up from a somewhat restful night's sleep. Ready to tackle the day's events. And boy, what a day this was going to be. A mandatory assembly was called and so she must go. She wondered what it would be about. Would it be the traditional call to arms about the glory of the school and how we should all hold hands and sing Kumbaya. Or was there something else in the works? Blackwell didn't do anything without a meaning, that much she had been sure of since her first days here.
But for now, she had to get ready for the day. She grabbed her shower supplies and made her way to the shower room, nodding her head and smiling at some of the girls she passed. She made her way inside, grabbing the nearest shower stall and taking a quick hot shower. Though the hot water wasn't always there, today it was piping hot. She wanted to have a quick one so the others could get theirs in before the day. She knew the girls would be especially grateful for that. After her shower, she walked back to her room to finish preparations. She dried her hair and styled it, put on her make-up and got her outfit together. Since it was the first day, she went with a red peasant blouse, a pair of jeans, and some black low-heeled boots. She also put on her necklace that held a picture of her family inside of it. She treasured it and wanted her family with her on her first day of school. Though she wasn't new to Blackwell, it still gave her some hope having them with her. She packed things in her bag, books and other school supplies, got her camera case with her, checked herself in the mirror before she opened her door and made her way to the assembly. She wondered who she would run into on her way there. Perhaps they could sit together. | Nicole/Nikki || Female || 3.6 GPA
Nicole Deacon
April 11 - 16 years old
Nicole stands at 5'7'' and weighs 122 lbs. She is of slim build with long, blonde hair and dark blue eyes. Her complexion is fair and she has a beauty mark on her forehead. Her typical style usually consists of blouses, sweaters, off-the-shoulder tops, or hoodies. She likes wearing skirts and leggings, the occasional jeans, and sometimes sweats. She likes wearing boots or Converse sneakers. She wears jewelry occasionally, usually earrings and a necklace. Her make-up is usually some foundation, blush, eyeliner, and lip gloss. Her favorite colors to wear are red, pink, blue, purple, black, and silver.
Nicole is inquisitive and sweet. She enjoys a good mystery and aims high in her endeavors. She can be too nosy for her own good. She is a good person to come to when you are having trouble as she will provide a kind word or a strict talking to if you need it. She detests bullies and injustice when she sees it, actively voicing her concerns over it. She can break the rules easily, especially if there is something to investigate. She likes meeting new people and can strike a conversation with just about anyone.
Nicole lost her mother when she was 5 years old. The youngest in her family with 3 older brothers, she had many male figures in her life to watch over and protect her. It toughened her up to where she didn't stay quiet whenever she got bullied or saw others being treated unfairly. This usually resulted in her getting into a fight or being taken to the principal's office, especially when she would talk back to teachers. Her father doted on her a lot and was secretly proud to raise such a strong-willed girl.
As the years went on, Nicole found a love of investigation and mysteries. She would read books like Sherlock Holmes and Hercule Poirot and dream of becoming an investigator herself, traveling the world and solving mysteries. She started her school's paper and delved into the hidden secrets of the school. Usually, it wasn't anything extraordinary, but it got readers and became really popular.
She applied to Blackwell on a whim, having researched the school a bit. It seemed like a good fit for her and her studies, allowing her to grow and learn and eventually go to college. Plus, she wanted to be on her own a bit after living with her brothers and father for so long. She got accepted and made her way to Blackwell.
Dorm Room 223 - Her room is decorated with a few posters of popular bands and movies. She has a small bulletin board with photos of her father and brothers as well as a few friends from back home. She has pink flower decals around her room. She has a Hi-Fi and her laptop on her desk. She has various books littered around. She has to comfy beanbags and a small couch in case she entertains in her room. She also has a mini-fridge for her drinks and snacks.
Invisibility - Nicole has the ability to turn herself completely invisible to the naked eye. She can move around and remain undetected by person or video cameras. She can still be seen in infrared.
Literary Circle and Expression
Tennis and Photography Club |
1,353 | 29 | 5 | 2,092 | 274 | Nicholas Stevenson
Bzzzzzzzzzz...
The sound of his phone alarm buzzing was enough to snap Nicholas awake. He lazily reached towards the buzzing phone, his face still stuffed in his pillows. After finally getting ahold of the vibrating phone he;d silence it by accessing its home screen. With his phone still in his hand, he rubbed his eyes before scrolling through his usual notifications of females texting him (females meaning his mom asking him to reply to her emails). He would groggily get up from his bed, grabbing his towel and toothbrush on his way out his dorm room. On his way to the bathroom he would see Alex exiting the boy's shower room. Quiet kid. Nicholas doesn't really know much about him...Nicholas thinks no one does actually.
He would brush his teeth for a few minutes in the sink then spend time checking himself out in the mirror. After staring at the incredibly handsome model in the mirror he would take a quick shower and head back to him room. Nicholas always planned his outfits out the day before in his mind so it was pretty much recreating his vision when dressing up. Today he wore an elongated black t shirt with an acid wash denim jacket, black skinny jeans and vans.
On his way out the dorm he remembered there was going to be an assembly most likely about the twitter page that had been insulting students at Blackwell. He doesn't seem to have been targeted so he didn't really care too much about the situation. The owner of the account is obviously intimidated by his charm. He would smirk to himself as he headed to where the assembly was being held. | Name: Nicholas Stevenson
Birthdate and Age: December 31 1998
Physical Appearance: Nicholas stands at 5'9, a reasonably short height for his age, with a thin build that gives him an inch or two. His skin is pale and his eyes are a misty brown. His hair is also short and hangs a little over his forehead. He dresses casually most of the time sporting a grungy denim jacket with paint-splattered ripped skinny jeans and converse.
His dorm attire consists of an oversized dirty white t-shirt with pale blue sweatpants and black fuzzy socks.
Personality: Nicholas has good intentions but is known for his annoying overly-romantic behavior. Some students, mainly female, would say he has a tendency to come on a bit strong to the point of showing creepy behavior towards them...but they're obviously just playing hard to get. "Who can resist my charm?" Nicholas says.
Nicholas in any other situation, not female-related, can be nice and easy to talk to. When on the topic of art though he can be very defensive and territorial. Nicholas feels his views and opinions on art are valid seeing as he is an experienced artist. He also shows great pride towards his own work and rarely takes criticism lightly.
Biography: Nicholas was born and raised in Chicago where he lived with his single mother who worked all day. His mom's busy schedule forced Nicholas to practically live daycare to daycare. He was never really was fond of the various' daycare's activities. Except painting. The The feeling of expressing ones true emotion through brush strokes was an idea that was he came to fall in love with through his childhood and early teen years. When he got to the age of 18, he finally got accepted into an Art program at the prestigious Blackwell Academy. The art program was a big step for him and it put him in an environment with other artists like him as well as girls who would come to admire his art and him, of course.
Dorm Room:
106
-Weirdly minimalistic. The walls are absent of any decorations or poters and his desks and shelves are absent of any items. His closet although is filled with nearly all his belongings, almost to the point where it's cluttered with junk on the floor.
Powers: Rapid healing
-Can't control healing speed
-gets exhausted if healed too much
Elective Class: Art through the Ages and Expression
Activities: Art Club
notes:hates the name nik/nic/nick/nike |
1,354 | 29 | 6 | 1,570 | 4,031 | Evelyn
An escaping snore had startled the young girl awake. "Huh?" she said, thinking it was a person speaking to her rather than her own gaping mouth. Reaching to her cellphone that sat on the end table she looked at the time. It wasn't too terribly late in the day, but because of her late night browsing the internet and watching Youtube videos, she could have slept a few more hours. Outreaching her arms, she felt around for her laptop on her bed. Pressing her fingertips into it, she pulled the laptop up to her chest and flipped open the lid. She hadn't escaped from the warmth of her blankets yet before she began looking at all of her social media sites, emails, and other daily things she checked. Reading through comments she shook her head. It was disgusting how people treated one another at this school sometime. She wasn't new to the nasty comments, but it wasn't as bad as the ones she had received at her previous school.
She pressed like on a few pictures, comments, and funny videos before closing the laptop and pushing it away.
Swinging her legs down, Evelyn revealed her bare thighs as the blankets came off. She always slept in a teeshirt and underwear, as it was the most comfortable, and comfort beat everything when it came to sleeping positions. Gathering her belongings needed for the girl's dormitory restroom she went to shower and get dressed for the day. Looking at herself in the mirror she applied makeup and examined the roots of her hair. She could tell where the blonde was starting to grow back in. Making a mental note, she would need to re-dye it sometime again soon. Maybe even one of the girls in the dorm would give her a hand so she could make sure she got it all.
After her morning routine she made her way down to the dining hall, gathering a chocolate chip muffin and a black coffee, she found a chair to sit in as she began to pick apart the wrapper and break apart of the pastry into smaller parts to pop into her mouth. Taking a sip of her coffee, she browsed around the cafeteria with a sleepy gaze. | Name: Evelyn Gayle Alison
Birthdate and Age: June 17th 2000, 16 yrs.
Physical Appearance: Short, sweet, and good enough to eat. The young girl is about five foot three tall, and weighs a bit over one hundred and eighty-five pounds. Evelyn is one of the bigger girls on campus that are her age- but she hasn't had too much of a problem with bullies ever since transferring to Blackwell. She naturally has blonde hair but ever since last summer has been dyeing (despite her grandmother's disapproving looks) it a vibrant and fun red color. Her eyes are hazel, and sit in an almond shape upon her porcelain skin. Though fashion can be a pain in the ass, Evelyn loves to dress up and do her makeup and hair as often as she can. She keeps very well manicured, and prides herself in knowing some of the newer trends before they start blossoming on campus.
Personality: Spontaneous. Creative. Technology Addict. Impatient. Sensitive. Cheerful. Naive.
Biography: Jenna Alison was once a fifteen year old in Arcadia Bay, Oregon. She fell in a whirlwind with an exciting eighteen year old boy during the summer one year, and in result Evelyn came into the world. The unnamed boy left as soon as he went, and Evelyn was raised by her mother and grandmother in the sleepy town, getting by with a little bit of a weight on their shoulders but fairly well off. When Evelyn came of age, Jenna didn't want her daughter following the same path that she had followed and felt that sending Evelyn to the well known and prestigious school of Blackwell would give her a step up in life. As she adjusts on campus Evelyn has found herself making friends pretty easily. She has always been a fun loving person, so when people ask her if she would like to try something or do something she is not one to say no. Hopefully she doesn't get into too much trouble as her roots get more planted at the academy.
Dorm Room: Room 220. Evelyn's dorm room is decorated with lots of hues of orange and blue. Her laptop is always on and running in her room, whether it be playing music or having the occasional notification from social media sites. The whole underside of her bed is lifted and used for storage of her clothes and school supplies. Besides a large tapestry on her wall, she doesn't really have any thing hanging on the wall. She doesn't like too much clutter in her room, and keeps it fairly clean. She is known to always have snacks in her mini fridge, so if you're looking for a sweet snack after curfew, she's a good friend to seek out.
Powers: Pungency:
The power to cause irritation from physical contact.
- Comes and goes depending on the weather.
- Focused on her hands and feet rather than entire body.
Elective Class: Programming Panel.
Activities: Swim Team. Brain Club. |
1,355 | 29 | 7 | 642 | 43 | Mia
Mia wasn't exactly happy to have a roommate and him deciding to wake her up before her alarm wasn't the smartest move.
"Uuuuh- my alarm didn't go off yet." she groaned opening those brown eyes before pushing her glasses back on; she must've passed out at some point listening to her music. The shower comment is what brought her back to reality from a half sleeping state. Pushing herself up Mia searched through blankets to find her headphones putting them around her neck. "Well tell her that I don't use the boy's showers because I-" grabbing her chest she squeezed a small smile forming on those lips, "have tits. I've been using the girl's showers by myself ever since I came here so I don't see why it'd be a problem now and I have practice today so I'll take a shower tonight."
Slipping off her rather tall bed and standing up Mia gave another groan as she picked up yesterday's pants slipping them back on, "SHit I don't want to go to practice." Kicking the shit on her floor around until she found her hairbrush she scooped it up and began taming that beautifully long messy hair. The first impression that Greer probably got was that Mia was a bitchy slob behind closed doors. | Name: Mia Lough
Birthdate and Age: February 19, 17
Physical Appearance: Long black hair and deep brown eyes Mia is usually wearing a hip-hop style. She's a bit tall for an Asian standing at 5'11 and you will normally find her wearing those big glasses.
Personality: Mia is pretty damn confident in herself and she sees no good reason not to be. Even after coming out she still got along better with guys and that hasn’t seemed to change. Her sense of humor is a bit offensive to some, but she just feels people need to suck it up and stop being such babies. She’s a huge party person taking more pleasure being with a large group than with one person individually. Despite not being a genius Mia uses everything she has to her advantage including the fact that she’s trans.
Biography: Mia, born Tyler Lough, moved in with her aunt at the age of four due to her parent’s financial issues. Her father at the time was simply too sick to look after his child and therefore gave her a better childhood by asking his sister to take care of her. Middle school was a struggle and Mia was starting to notice differences in herself that pulled her apart from the boys her age. Sure she felt comfortable playing football and joking around, but the issue stemmed more from her gender. In 7th grade Tyler officially became Mia. At first it was a big issue, but between her aunt’s persistence and downright threatening to sue on a few occasions Mia became accepted (more or less) as a girl in school aspects.
Dorm Room: 217 A tornado must’ve hit this girl’s dorm room! Despite the fact that you can't see her floor most of the time, Mia tries to stay organized having piles of different things in different places. There are also posters all across her walls; hell she has posters on the ceiling because she ran out of space. Her bed is a cocoon of big fluffy blankets with no sheets due to them falling off so often.
Powers: Insecurity - Ever been talking to your friends and felt a sweeping wave of insecurity? Something Mia is able to do is push insecurity onto others, however it isn't at all in her control happening at random mostly influenced by emotions. Physical contact of some kind is a must in these situations.
Activities: The Vortex Club, Art Club, Wide Receiver on the Football team
Bullying: Since the GM brought this up I’d like to touch on the topic. Go for it. Mia isn’t easily offended. If you want to deal with her snappy comical comebacks and wise talk be my guest.
Other: Her FC and VC is Awkwafina |
1,356 | 29 | 8 | 2,286 | 691 | "Well tell her that I don't use the boy's showers because I-" grabbing her chest she squeezed a small smile forming on those lips, "have tits. I've been using the girl's showers by myself ever since I came here so I don't see why it'd be a problem now and I have practice today so I'll take a shower tonight."
"And I don't" Greer replied breezily, no need to grab his own chest, it was utterly flat. "And the problem is you were born with a dick" Greer added without even flinching. One thing about the perpetually-bored goth kid, was that he was blunt, utterly blunt. "I don't make the rules." he rolled his eyes. "I'm not remotely interested in any of these airheads, but until we both get bottom surgery- no one will take either of us seriously here"
Greer didn't sound particularly moved about it though ... he didn't want to get any surgery at all, he was content in his body but it certainly caused trouble sometimes. "Good thing I'm fond of clowns" he shrugged, no one taking Greer seriously wasn't a problem.
"I'll be back in ten" he scooped up his things to shower and change, giving Alyssa a wave on his way out. "C'mon my loyal sentry, stand guard to make sure I don't grope the poor unsuspecting girls" he said sarcastically.
All things considered, Alyssa wasn't all that bad. She didn't seem to think either of them were a threat to the girls. Mia was a girl, and Greer dressed like one but was quite obviously gay as soon as he opened his mouth. It didn't take Alyssa long to figure it out of course. One skype call with Greer's sister last night had completely removed any doubts. Despite being utterly different, Cassandra and Greer had similar celebrity crushes. Chris Evan's, bizarrely enough, topped the list for them both.
Alyssa ensured the bathroom was cleared and kept watch, an eye on Mia and Greer's door, and sticking a close distance to the bathroom as well to tell the other girls to wait a moment because Greer was inside (and godforbid one of them would catch a glimpse of him naked ...) Quite honestly, he didn't care, by now, the girls had seen it all before, they weren't children. He wasn't mortified by his body like most other teenagers were, but for the sake of following school policies on "decency" and acceptable conduct etc, it ensured both male and female students remained separated when they were in "less than decent dress".
It had its advantages, Greer didn't have to worry about anyone stealing his shampoo if he left it aside for a moment.
True to his word, he was washed, dressed and made up within ten minutes. Dreadlocks coiled back and artfully pinned in place so they could dry (which would take hours) without dripping all over him. Greer's half of the room was pristine, or at least, close to pristine. Bed made, clothing not bursting out of the wardrobe and spilling across the floor. His desk was perfectly in order, aside from a half-assembled art piece which didn't look particularly like anything just yet. He grabbed his sketchbook from the desk, a compact and black lipstick, phone and wallet, and jammed them into his bag, a coffin-shaped purse of course. At least Mia's mess was mostly confined to her side of the room.
Breakfast came before the dreaded assembly ... *hooray*. Greer had a banana, sliced up, and sprinkled on dry toast. He sketched idly in his sketchbook as he ate breakfast. | Name: Greer Allister McGregor
Birthdate and Age: June 13th (18)
Physical Appearance: Skinny, perhaps a little too skinny. Greer is ... alternative to say the least. Certainly a goth, Greer only wears black and perhaps a combination of some other colour, but mostly, just black. He's ... feminine to say the least. Biologically male (and well aware of it), Greer gets on better with the girls, mainly because he can be just as bitchy as them, and he freaks out the guys ... When people ask about his gender-identity, he generally adopts the stance "I don't give a fuck about my gender, why? Does it bother you?".
Rarely seen without perfectly applied black lipstick and sharp-eyeliner-flicks, he's the Queen of Lookin'-Mean. Beneath the make-up though, he's actually quite handsome (in a guy way too!)
Greer is tall, but wears tall boots anyway because they look good. Without contacts, Greer has stormy grey eyes and wears thick black glasses, usually though he has clear contact lenses in since his glasses aren't stylish enough for his tastes.
Personality: Sassy, independent, scathing, dark. Greer is your stereotypical tormented goth but with a killer sense of humour. Rather than adopting the "oppressed victim" stance some goths take, Greer is well aware he's alternative and it freaks some people out, instead of complaining about it, he takes it in his stride. He tries to maintain a dark, distant aura, but underneath he's quite sensitive and caring, he might have to kill you if you tell anyone though. Arrogant, he's clever and knows it.
Biography: Younger of two siblings, Greer is a first generation American immigrant from Scotland. He's close to his older sister, and despite his rebellious look and crossdressing habits, his parents are very supportive and the family is quite close. He's never been particularly deprived. Growing up in a small conservative town, Greer has had some ... unfavourable run-ins and has had to be a little tough. Don't ask if he's ever been in a fist tight.
Powers: Telepathy (mind reading)
Elective Class: Art through the Ages and Expression
Activities:Tennis and Art |
1,357 | 29 | 9 | 642 | 43 | Mia
Mia was actually caught off guard by the comment. Normally she would have some witty come back ready, but this wasn't something she expected from Greer. At the added statement she muttered watching him walk out, "Speak for your fucking self..." Mia wasn't interested in taking the victim card and anything less than her all wasn't good enough. Maybe certain people wouldn't take her seriously, but damn she worked hard to make the majority respect her. In Blackwell, that was a true accomplishment on her part.
Setting her brush down on the bed before grabbing a shirt from her closet she slipped it over her pink shorts bra. Great Mia wasn't even half way through the day and now she was all riled up. Slapping on a layer of lip gloss and half-heartedly applying eyeliner the young woman was ready for another pointless day of high school; at least the food was good.
Soon Mia was sitting down with a pile of food scrolling through her phone while rap music blasted through her headphones. Socializing in the morning wasn't really her cup of tea. | Name: Mia Lough
Birthdate and Age: February 19, 17
Physical Appearance: Long black hair and deep brown eyes Mia is usually wearing a hip-hop style. She's a bit tall for an Asian standing at 5'11 and you will normally find her wearing those big glasses.
Personality: Mia is pretty damn confident in herself and she sees no good reason not to be. Even after coming out she still got along better with guys and that hasn’t seemed to change. Her sense of humor is a bit offensive to some, but she just feels people need to suck it up and stop being such babies. She’s a huge party person taking more pleasure being with a large group than with one person individually. Despite not being a genius Mia uses everything she has to her advantage including the fact that she’s trans.
Biography: Mia, born Tyler Lough, moved in with her aunt at the age of four due to her parent’s financial issues. Her father at the time was simply too sick to look after his child and therefore gave her a better childhood by asking his sister to take care of her. Middle school was a struggle and Mia was starting to notice differences in herself that pulled her apart from the boys her age. Sure she felt comfortable playing football and joking around, but the issue stemmed more from her gender. In 7th grade Tyler officially became Mia. At first it was a big issue, but between her aunt’s persistence and downright threatening to sue on a few occasions Mia became accepted (more or less) as a girl in school aspects.
Dorm Room: 217 A tornado must’ve hit this girl’s dorm room! Despite the fact that you can't see her floor most of the time, Mia tries to stay organized having piles of different things in different places. There are also posters all across her walls; hell she has posters on the ceiling because she ran out of space. Her bed is a cocoon of big fluffy blankets with no sheets due to them falling off so often.
Powers: Insecurity - Ever been talking to your friends and felt a sweeping wave of insecurity? Something Mia is able to do is push insecurity onto others, however it isn't at all in her control happening at random mostly influenced by emotions. Physical contact of some kind is a must in these situations.
Activities: The Vortex Club, Art Club, Wide Receiver on the Football team
Bullying: Since the GM brought this up I’d like to touch on the topic. Go for it. Mia isn’t easily offended. If you want to deal with her snappy comical comebacks and wise talk be my guest.
Other: Her FC and VC is Awkwafina |
1,358 | 29 | 10 | 1,077 | 1,122 | THE TWITTER PAGE
Signed in as: emcrisels Notifications: 64
Emma Crisels: Anyone who told you to be yourself couldn't have given you worse advice. You're like a walking catastrophe. You think you're all unique and artsy but really you're just dumb and a show off.
- fungirl6
I'm not like that.
-emcrisels
Are you kidding me? You're exactly what fungirl says. She should also add in useless and ugly?
-Lolly
OMG, fungirl, you are sooooo right. I hated Emma Crisels ever since she stepped foot into my classroom
-iheartmayo
Well at least she's not your roommate...
-starryeyedlover
Ella, you're in this too?
-emcrisels
I beg of you guys to please stop. It's hurting me and...please.
-emcrisels
YOU'RE GONNA GET IT IN THE CAFETERIA THIS MORNING. fungirl's not the only one who hates you.
-ymous123 | || ||
Fleur Ellanise
29 December 1999, 17 yrs.
Light soft brown hair in waves. Light golden brown eyes. Usually wears some sort of knit sweater and jean shorts. A slim physique and a welcoming, warm air. Always smells like cinnamon and chocolate.
Amiable, Honest, Eccentric, Considerate, Geeky, Party Animal and Kind
She has a very warm family, 2 brothers (one older, one younger) an older sister and perfect parents. Now, with all the stress that one of her older brothers put on her she has less time to party and has to spend more time studying. She wants to get into one of the best universities out there (MIT) and she'll do everything to make her family and herself, proud. The stress that is riding on her shoulders however, is making her more stressful and serious. Her parents want to make sure that she gets the future they all want because her siblings went off to below average universities even though they were smart. She shouldn't have to go through that. She plans on enrolling into the Vortex club so she can write that down in her resume and get a quick pass, even though she hates the Vortex club and the stuff they stand for she still needs in. She somehow managed to charm her way into their ranks but dangles at the edge. She hopes to make many life long friends at Blackwell and learn so much more about her beloved topic, Physics. She's carefree once she's at Blackwell, way away from the eyes of her family but she still knows what she has to do and works hard to make sure that her family's dream is completed.
218
Her room has a lot of fairy lights strung up all around. Her blinds are usually open to let in the sunlight and moonlight. She makes sure that her room always has some sort of light on, her door is open and people are invited to come in. Her couch is peppered with colorful and soft cushions along with her flute. Her desk is filled with various books, her state of the art (yet battered) laptop and a cool pendulum. She had science posters and pictures of her family and friends tacked on the wall, horizontally and perfectly lined up. You can find her room sometimes in a state of mess but it always smells nice and there's lots of sunlight so there's that.
Super senses
~ Can use the 5 senses with an enhanced ability, hearing things far away etc.
- Can only be used in a very short amount of time (10 seconds)
* Takes a cool down of up to 30 minutes before being used again, this time with less senses than normal.
* Takes the next day until she can return to her normal level of senses again.
Science Subzone
Brain club
Vortex club |
1,359 | 29 | 11 | 2,049 | 6,923 | Mati
"97, 98, 99,... 100! Finally!!" The muffled words that practically dripped with motivation came from behind the door of Blackwell's residential giant Mati, like they have been ever since he had arrived there much to the displeasure of his fellow dorm mates. Behind the door one would find the living mountain of a man shirtless and drenched in sweat as he pulled his hulking mass up from the floor. It seemed that he had just finished his daily ritual of a morning work out and judging by the literal puddle of sweat on the floor it seemed that today was a push-up and sit-up day. He stretched out for a few moments, releasing a few more than a bit auditable pops as he cracked his back. Mati always took the mornings to get a good workout in, namely because he knew that the only reason that Blackwell wanted him here was because of him being an asset to the football team so he couldn't risking getting lazy.
With a practical ear to ear grin on his caramel colored lips Mati made his way over to his closet were a small basket containing a small assortment of body washes and shampoos sat ready to go. Bursting into the hall the bare-chested goliath greeted everyone as he passed them, though he got little more than half conscience and dazed grunts as responses, it seemed that most of Blackwell's students weren't morning people. Mati didn't waste anytime hopping into the shower and cranking on the water. A slight shiver went down his back as the icy water hit his skin, like usual his morning work out gave everyone else in the dorm to get into the showers before him leaving very little warm water left for Mati himself, but he wasn't really complaining since he did it to himself after all.
Just as quickly as he had entered the shower Mati was back out with a towel around his waste and on his way back to his room. Mati was a pretty simple guy and his choice in clothing was no different; he pulled on a light green T shirt that had the very school spirited saying of GO BIGFOOTS!!! printed on it along with a pair of dark blue jeans and a set of black and gray sneakers. The outfit wasn't finished for Mati until he pulled on his brown denim jacket so with pulling it on the living meat wall grabbed his backpack and was set for his first day back to Blackwell.
Breakfast was always the best meal of the day, at least as far as Mati was concerned. He had grabbed a tray and stacked it a mile high with a heap of pancakes, eggs, sausage, cereal, and of course a banana. The starving behemoth was almost to enamored with his food to remember that he had to find a place to sit before he could enjoy his food, luckily his brain was able to overcome his stomach just long enough to do so. He looked over the cafeteria and it seemed that a lot of the tables were already full, he noticed a ton of new students which brought a slight smile to his face as Mati was always excited to meet new people. But he also noticed quite a few old face, the one that stood out the most to him though was that of his teammate's Mia who was currently nose deep into a pile of food and her phone. Mati didn't give it a second thought as he went and sat across from Mia, that is what teammates do right?
"Hey Mia, great to be back right?" Mati said with a warm tone before he gave a small prayer started digging into his own mound of food. It was only after polishing off his second hunk of sausage that he looked back up to Mia. "Oh yeah do you have any idea what this assembly is about?" He asked as he started to work on his bowel of cearl, scooping into his mouth like it was going to disappear if he didn't. | "It is all a part of life."
Uzumati/Mati || Male || 3.3
Name
Uzumati Ahanu Degotoga
Birthdate and Age
June, 4th, 1997
Nineteen Years Old
Physical Appearance
Mati has been described as a living mountain, and that is not that far off from the truth. Standing at a staggering 6'6" and weighting a whopping 235 pounds Mati is a real giant. He has a incredibly burly body build that many find intimidating, and makes fitting into small spaces hard for Mati. His skin is a light caramel color and is decorated with tattoos going from his left pectoral down his left arm. He has oak brown hair that is paired with light brown eyes. He has a wide nose that goes with his rather full lips. His eyebrows are rather thick and bushy. He also has a small heart shaped birthmark on a rather intimate part of his body... don't get too excited, it's just on his backside.
His clothes are rather simple. Consisting of a old brown hooded denim jacket over a series of T-shirts, jeans and boots. The only time he wears something else is when he is in his team uniform. He always wears a small wooden rosary around his neck at all times, a gift from his dad.
Personality
A big man with a bigger heart, Mati is the stereotypical gentle giant, or teddy bear as a lot of people have taken to calling him. He is a real bleeding heart, often finding himself going out his way to help others even when they don't really deserve it. Mati is a rather spiritual guy, finding a lot of comfort in both nature and religion.
Despite what a lot of people think Mati isn't naïve, he is in fact a pretty smart guy, and is able to see through most of the bullshit some people try to feed him. It takes a lot to actually set Mati off and even when he is triggered he's most likely to walk off and try to find a way to cool off.
He takes his studies pretty seriously, he sees how much of an opportunity that he has been given to come here and will do everything in his power to make sure he uses it. So when the rest of the team goes out and parties Mati I usually back in the library getting ahead of any classwork he has.
Mati has a real appreciation for hard work, feeling that it is the only way to really understand and value what you want. He finds people who don't earn their way in the world don't really know what it really means to live in the real world.
When it comes to romance Mati is kind of a rock, he just doesn't get it. It isn't like he becomes a stammering mess when someone of the opposite sex shows interest in him, it is just that he can never tell when someone is expressing interest in him. You are gonna have to practically smack him in the face with your affection if you want him to notice.
Biography
"Where to start uhhh... oh I guess with my parents. Dad is pretty simple, he was a medic in the army and got moved around a lot, but besides from that he is a pretty upstanding guy. He eventually got stationed at FT. Lewis up in Washington, that's where he met mom. Mom was a uhhh... 'free spirit' so to speak. One of those real go with the flow and do whoever uh I mean do whatever they want type of person. They had a fling and I guess I was the result. Yeah dad tried his best to stick around, but you know duty calls and he had to move off. Mom on the other hand... she said she couldn't be tied down, even to her kid. So she handed me off to her mother, my grandma, and went off somewhere to find herself and to paint with the colors of the wind.
I grew up on the reservation with my grandma. Tough one she is, did her best to raise me and make sure that I had my head on straight so I wouldn't end up like... well point is she is a great woman. Things were pretty cool growing up, great family and friends, bunch of things to kill time, amazing woods to play in, hell dad even managed to make it back from time to time to visit me.
Probably one of my favorite things when I was growing up was rugby, the game was my life. I would play it from sun up to sun down some days, even joined the school team. I never really thought much of it, well that was until a scout saw one of my games and offered me a scholarship to Blackwell Academy, catch was I had to join the school's football team. Football isn't really my sport, but there was no way I could turn down Blackwell! So with some convincing my grandma let me attend Blackwell. I promised her I would come here and make something of myself and there is nothing on this earth that will keep me from keeping that promise.
Dorm Room
105
There are three aspects of Mati's life right now; school, the football team, and his tribe, or as he says his mind, his body, and his spirit. They are pretty well reflected in his dorm too. He has a whole wall dedicated to photos of his friends and family back home as well as a few trinkets that his grandma and a few of the other tribe elders gave him before he left. His desk is flooded with textbooks, notebooks, and his laptop nestled in the center. His closet is filled with the brim of sports equipment; his uniform, pads, balls, helmets, and even a few lacrosse sticks. Aside from his bed Mati has a futon and a bean bag chair in his room to serve as furniture.
Powers
Protective Aura Generation
Mati is able to generate a protective field around himself and others. He cannot hold these fields for too long, the current limit being thirty seconds, likewise the larger the field the shorter amount of time he can keep it up.
Elective Class
Additional Sports Class
Activities
Football Team
Current Fullback
Bible Study Group
Has been leading it for a while, a few of the group members have started calling him Rev, short for reverend.
"Quick Pic."
"Me And Grams."
"Getting Ready For The Game."
"Gotta Go Fast."
Oh and just because I wanted to let everyone now Mati is half African American and half Native American |
1,360 | 30 | 0 | 739 | 6,473 | Avatar arrived at the space station on the third shuttle coming from the planet’s surface. The vessel bore no name of which the Council representatives had been informed, but a quick visual scan on approach had revealed some information on the station. It was an aging Scepter-class civilian transport developed by the ExoGeni Corporation twelve years after the end of the Reaper War. It was designed to be larger and cheaper than other transports, making it ideal for resettling and rebuilding efforts. It was 32% larger than a standard frigate, though modifications to this particular vessel to convert it into a space station had increased its size 5% beyond that. Based on schematics from the stock vessel, Avatar determined that it had four decks, with living space surrounding most of the core systems in the center. There was also a large, reinforced “panic room” near the core systems, though Avatar had no way of knowing if it was still present.
The meeting taking place on this station was in regards to the settlement on the planet officially designated as 2196 BH3, which had not yet received an official common name from any Council government. Although, it was virtually certain that the present inhabitants of the planet had named it. Records on these locals were sparse, so Avatar’s knowledge on them was close to negligible. They were all of Council races, but they were not officially citizens of any Council government. As the planet naturally contained dextro-amino based life, the majority of the population was Turian, though there were an unknown number of settlements which had cleared out areas to grow food for levo-amino populations. It was unknown if any Quarians were present on the planet. Despite the variety of inhabitants, all of the planet’s settlements, and indeed the planet itself, carried a low population. They had no unified government and were much less developed than most galactic civilizations. Therefore, it was the hope of the interested parties within the Council governments that they could negotiate the settlement of the planet, along with the integration of the present population, in return for resources the locals would need.
Based on the instruction it had been given thusfar, Avatar’s purpose on the station at present was minor. The primary focus of this meeting was for the Council’s diplomats to begin negotiating settlement and integration with the representatives from the planet’s scattered cities. All others who were not security were present simply to meet said representatives and answer questions they might have relating to their area of expertise. In addition, only those designated as security were permitted to carry firearms, so Avatar had left its weapons at the temporary settlement on the planet’s surface from which the shuttles were carrying all who were attending the meeting. Interestingly, despite the fact that the station itself was a minimum of fifty years old and was in a state of borderline disrepair, the weapons detectors on the airlocks were a remarkably new model, created only three years prior.
The meeting was scheduled to begin in two hours and thirty-two minutes in the largest room two decks down from the airlocks. Since it had the opportunity, Avatar elected to locate and speak to representatives from the planet, or some of the others who had arrived before it, to learn more about the present situation. | Name: Avatar
Species: Geth
Age: 376 years since program’s creation
Gender: N/A
Weapons/Equipment:
-Geth Pulse Rifle v3
-Geth Plasma SMG v3
-A combat platform with greater capabilities than a standard Geth unit.
Skills and Abilities: Like most Geth, it is a tech expert with strong hacking capabilities. It has tech-based abilities (incinerate, cryo blast, etc) and is equipped with a tactical cloak. Its advanced mobile platform is quite durable. As its body is made from tough alloys with powerful synthetic muscles, it is capable of strength beyond that of an organic of similar size. It also has the accuracy and reaction time one would expect from an advanced machine.
Background: For most of Avatar’s existence, it was but a single Geth program, with little more than rudimentary instincts and completely reliant upon the presence of other Geth to attain intelligence. That, however, changed in the midst of the Reaper War. In the aftermath of the battle with the Creator fleet at Rannoch, all Geth were given Reaper upgrades that uplifted them to become true A.I. Avatar was given its name by a group of organics it fought alongside during the Battle of Earth, and decided to keep that name in order to facilitate easier communication with organics.
After the end of the war, Avatar filled many roles. At first most of the Geth’s efforts were on rebuilding what was lost at Rannoch and helping the Creators resettle on the homeworld. The efficiency of the Geth’s planning coupled with the eagerness of the Quarians to re-establish their home made the process rather quick. Avatar spent a few years inhabiting the suits of Creators, mimicking the effects of viruses to help them to rebuild their immune systems. Over time, cities were erected on the surface of Rannoch, and more and more Creators were able to live without their suits, though most still chose to wear them due to tradition.
Eventually, Avatar’s role shifted away from rebuilding and into security. Due to the weakened state of the galaxy in the years after the war, piracy and other forms of crime were becoming increasingly common. All Geth were capable of combat when installed in the correct platform, but Avatar had a desire to help, and through years of fighting, it had developed memory shortcuts in relation to combat that would make it more effective than programs that had not incorporated said shortcuts. Avatar has served ever since as a combat platform, patrolling sectors near the borders of Geth/Quarian space, and sometimes even in the territories of other species, when requested.
Most recently, Avatar has been assigned to accompany a group of Creators who have been tasked with preparing the way for the first Quarian settlements in the Pylos Nebula. Avatar’s assigned mission is to discuss Geth habitation of the planet with the locals and make other preparations for the Geth. Any Geth could perform that task, but due to the dangerous nature of the Attican Traverse, they felt it appropriate to send a combat platform for additional protection. |
1,361 | 30 | 1 | 799 | 7,421 | Raa'Kina & Voira
Voira walked into the spacious area she had cleared quickly out with the help of her biotics. She eyed it critically. For the most part it was empty, except for targets lined up at varying distances. They were varied makeshift targets(stretching from empty glasses, to pieces of wood with painted on targets), granted, but they were targets nonetheless."It could be better. But we will make it work. We've asked every guard here and apparently they don't have a dedicated training room. Considering the ship has Turians out the wazzo, we find this surprisingly sloppy." She said, mostly to herself. Voira made some minor adjustments with her biotics, then finally judged it worthy for what she was planning to do. She walked back to the open door. "Well, we don't like it but we think it'll work. You have to work on your shooting and fighting somewhere and we are not just sitting around.
Raa'Kina stood there, watching the blue, glowing objects float about and shift into an alignment that suited her friend's desire quite well. She tilted her purple tinted face mask while Voira finished up. Her three fingered hand still clenched the pistol in her hand, tightening and loosing in her anxiety in silence. She didn't want to do this but despite her meek, hesitate protests, the Asari refused to take no for an answer. Finally, namely due to her AI's subtle threat of locking Voira into her quarters, she gave in and accepted she wasn't going to find a way around this.
Ever since the near death at some raider's antics on the last ship, Voira had insisted on upping her training. So now most days Raa'Kina, or Raa as she preferred, came back more sore than ever. Thankfully by now, she was use to Voira's bellowing snores. If only the Quarian could harness how the Asari managed to make the room walls vibrate with the sound then they would've had a fool proof alarm and security system. She wasn't even sure if modern sciences could recreate such a noise.
At Voira's mention of her, Raa's visor jerked upward to her friend's direction. "I don't know, the sitting around part sounds less... dangerous."
She looked at the gun in her hands and back to Voira, if the Asari didn't see her worry over this then RK was about to make it very clear.
"Really, Voira? You know I can tap into the omni-tool HUB and aim it for her, right?" RK's bust appeared, her Quarian head glaring at the Asari, with a older model of the Quarian helmet. On first glance she looked like a common, unnoticeable Quarian save for some key differences. Her color was completely tinted orange with decorative and intrinsic designs, floral and tribal almost, covering her hood. "You know her biology isn't built for Close Quarter Combat and pushing it would only result in permanent damage. That much I can calculate without a formula."
Voira chuckled gently at the Quarian's hesitancy. She sighed as RK appeared, clearly preparing for the attack. The Asari waited for the glowing AI to finish telling her what she already knew, glancing occasionally at her omni-tool, as if to check the time. When the AI was done, Voira spoke. "We understand that, RK. We also understand that there have been instances where you couldn't help her aim, and that when you aren't there she's doomed." Voira smiled at Raa to show she didn't mean it hatefully. It was simple facts. "The fucking raiders proved that. You can't be aiming for her all the time and we don't want her reliant completely on you." Her next words were practically dripping with sarcasm. "Also, we thought Quarian's were second only to Krogans in CQC and were planning on training Raa so that she could crush the skull of any dumb ass trying to attack her."
She smirked at the hologram. "Give us some credit to our intelligence, despite all the Ryncol we drink. We're not going to train her to stand toe to toe with a damn Krogan. We're going to train her to defend against enemies who like CQC. We can't be there to stop every enemy from getting to her, and you can't stop a fly from landing on her. Unless, of course, you finally take our advice and get a body. No? We didn't think so."
She turned to Raa, her voice turning notably more gentle. "We know how nervous this makes you. But we can't have a repeat of those fucking raiders. We nearly failed to protect you because of lack of proper training, and we won't fail again."
"I know, but you know how I feel about killing. Taking a life, namely after hearing tales from Noami'lie and Tevura, leaves scars and pain. I just don't think I can handle that type of misery even if came down to my life or another." Raa sighed a bit, her lip being bitten under her helmet though either RK or Voira could see. It was a habit after all. Her fingers wrapped to constrict the lethal device in her hands while the scene from the Raiders played out, the wounds still fresh since it only happened a short time ago, the very images that crept into her head and made her wake up screaming often enough.
While Raa was ignorant of her grasp, RK wasn't. The AI had been about to retort to Voira when her sensors went off about the stress observations, the key pressure applied in Raa's gloves, causing the hologram's head to tilt down. She pointed at the gun, after initiating the safety, and gestured at Voira to take the gun. Her next look seemed annoyed and knowing she was correct that approaching this was too soon.
"Yet you still sound like a Geth...brings a lot of comfort to my server." RK stated, clearly. "Raa'Kina isn't ready for this, at least mentally. If this lesson does anything then it will prove that and likely shatter her self confidence. As for the body, if I had one then I doubt Raa'Kina would've been held at knife point in our last encounter, would she?"
"RK, stop." Raa said as she barely loosened her grip from the gun. Her face mask lifted to face the AI, though it wasn't in anger, and scolded the artificial life form. "It was my own stupidity. I shouldn't have been looking for Voira."
Voira noted Raa's tightening around the same time RK did. However, before she could put a barrier around the pistol so no one got shot, the AI shut down Raa's gun. The Asari sighed in relief, before turning to listen to RK. Voira merely glared at RK, clearly hating the hologram for reminding her of how close Raa came to death, because she hadn't dealt with the invaders fast enough. Her responding smile was paper thin. "You're right. Which makes us wonder why you haven't already gotten a body. Can an artificial life feel fear for herself? We are beginning to suspect so."
"Rather impossible as you know, organic." RK spoke calmly pointing out the problems in the Asari's logic "Machine bodies tend to need up keeping which requires time, money and energy. All three better wasted on yours and her day to day needs. Quarian food products aren't found everywhere or cheapest in certain places, meaning you'll to save the credits for emergencies. Unless you are going to acquire the massive credits for a combative model and spend the time cleansing the numerous glitches or problems in it? A third problem is storage space. It's highly unlikely I'll be in it all the time unless you've got an alternative method to monitor Raa'Kina's status or allow her to shoot should the enemy get too close? If I wasn't within her omni-tool..."
Voira's gaze shifted back to Raa, her head already shaking in vehement denial. "No. It was our fault. We should have said something to RK, or left a note, or anything else to keep you out of harms way. We should have been faster. We should have..." Voira made a sound of frustration, unable to list all the reasons for her failure and the guilt she felt for it. "Our failure is not your failure Raa." She sighed before addressing previous statements. "What if we switched your ammo to non-lethal stun rounds? And trained you for non-lethal takedowns? Would that help you keep from causing scars and pain? We can't fail you again, and we can't force you to change."
"I-I think so." Raa stuttered a bit, her voice still unsure while she weighed the option in a better light. Her head shook in agreement at last as she pulled her gun upward to shift the gun's ammo, putting it on stun rather then kill. "Voira, I willingly went out. You couldn't have known I would've woken up after all, I've never done it before. And even RK was telling me to stay in the room until you returned but I didn't listen. I didn't want something to happen to you."
RK crossed her arms over her chest and seemed to cock her body to one side. "Voira is perfectly able to protect herself. The percentage proves it, several times after all."
"I know, but I worry." The younger Quarian insisted as she paused, her fingers flickering across the interface on her omni-tool and shut down RK's targeting system. "So, which bottle should I aim for first?"
This was her first time firing without the AI's help, a matter that didn't calm her in the least, while she pulled her gun up. She aimed it at the nearest bottle and checked Voira's head for a nod, ready to pull the trigger immediately.
"We still could have done something. We should have been more careful. We should have been more conscious of the danger to you. We should have been...we don't know. Smarter in general! Everything that has happened to you as a result of those bastards is our fault." Voira shook her head angrily, not at Raa or RK, but herself. Her expression softened as Raa spoke. "Rk is right, but we appreciate the feeling. It's nice to know someone worries. Start shooting at the bottle furthest to the left and work your way to the right. We'll be able to see what your best range is." Voira nodded at the Quarian.
Raa knew arguing and trying to utter logic in her favor wasn't going to win against Voira, at least not this time. Instead she nodded and breathed. Her respirators echoed her sound, making it raspy and clearly spoken through a filter, which she had gotten use to again. If it wasn't for the fact she was new to this environment, she would've been able to remove it but to do it right now without RK monitoring her vitals and altering the system every so often to let her exposure level adapt. She knew Voira hated it. Whenever she got sick and couldn't stand upright, the Asari's protective nature seemed to have kicked in overdrive. It made the fussing over her a bit uncalled for even if Raa appreciated it.
Her finger tightened and pulled the trigger.
BAM!
Raa literally jumped when it nicked the bottle to the side, sending it wobbling, yet still standing. It seemed to mock her when she lowered her weapon to see the damage. A small, hole had dented the wall where the ammo's effect flickered and told her it was a stun shot. Though it missed. Raa turned the pistol on its side and checked it over, then tapped her omni-tool a bit. She made sure it all her instruments lined up properly which they, unsurprisingly, did. The Quarian sighed a bit at the disappointment it was her own fault at missing.
"Not as easy as it looks, is it?" She asked Voira, admitting in a roundabout way she had missed because of self error.
Voira, however, was grinning. "Nothing is ever as easy as it looks, we find. But, that was a great shot for the first time without assistance aiming. Far better than our first time. You actually hit the target. We missed by two feet and sent the bullet ricocheting around the training room. Good thing that merc had been wearing armor. Regardless, don't be disappointed. It takes practice to get good at anything, be it using your omni-tool for technology or shooting. Try again, and don't get discouraged. The beginning is always the worst." She made an encouraging gesture, watching Raa more closely this time, to see if there was anything wrong with her form.
"I remember how my first time with my omni-tool went. I ended up shorting the whole area on Rannoch in my neighborhood and it went dark, needless to say upset several quarians came knocking. Including my parents which being a youth wasn't fun." Raa answered in a sheepish tone. She inhaled again and pointed, then shot. This time the bullet missed about three inches. It hit the metal side full on and pinged off, rocketing it through RK's head.
The AI frowned. She was clearly not amused by the 'headshot' or likely by Voira's amusement from it, her eyes turned to the Asari with clear warning. "Don't you think about it."
"I'm sorry, RK, I didn't mean to hit you in the head. It wasn't my aim to." Raa gingerly commented and examined the hologram's image for damage. There wasn't likely to be any but she was still trying to figure out how she managed to get from point A to point E, skipping points B to C and going through point D in the process.
Voira smiled wider. "We'll keep your blackout and my murder attempt our secret of how we both learned the value of practice." She started chuckling as the bullet went through RK's head, quieting down and managing a mostly straight face when the hologram glared at her. "Us? Think about that? We would never." The Asari replied, feigning innocent confusion, while repressing a smile. "If ricocheting helps you get more head shots, we feel that it should be your goal. All joking aside though, we think we see your problem." She stepped behind Raa, having her aim again. As the Quarian did so, Voira placed her hand over Raa's, steadying the weapon. "There's nothing to be afraid of." She said softly, given that she was right next to Raa's ear. "A pistol is nothing more than a tool, like your omni-tool. It won't hurt you, or anyone here. Relax. You can do this."
"Little late for that, my parents already knew." Raa was blunt though she failed to notice the teasing nature or the amusement in Viora's tone, continuing. "My omni-tool never hurt anyone and I never really did more then pointed where RK told me and shot the pistol off. She did the rest really."
Raa's head jerked up when she heard the Asari walk slowly about her back, followed by the impression of her figure close and hand reached to stead her own. Her elbow was straightened which helped keep her hand from shaking as she heard Voira's whisper in her helmet side. It wasn't easy. Her skin seemed to bubble under her suit and made her shiver despite the environment controlled design causing RK's head to tilt in question. For a moment, Raa expected the suit to immediately warm up but found to her surprise it didn't happen. Instead the AI seemed to wait and watch quietly, observing her facts before acting. Her experience with the Barbacus crew seemed to have paid off well in her ability to read individual, even to understand them.
Inhaling a second time, Raa's finger squeezed the trigger again. The vibration rattled through her hand and arm, finding a place in her body while the bullet jettison forward. It sped at the nearest bottle... and nicked it. The item flopped over and clattered to the ground with a loud sound. It made Raa jump in Voira's arms, nearly clashing into the Asari behind her.
It was painful to admit, a lot.
Voira rolled her eyes and chuckled a bit as Raa missed the teasing. She noticed RK tilting her head, but writ it off as the AI analyzing her namesake's form. She steadied Raa, thus preventing them from both falling down, and smiled. "Good job. You're improving, despite all your misgivings." She hadn't moved from her position, and continued to speak quietly. "Though we do find it odd that you're perfectly fine with engines and technology banging, clunking, popping, and making a host of other noises, and yet a bottle falling on the ground causes you to jump six feet in the air." Voira teased.
"Well the hertz are quite different between the two. Noisy machines are mid-level, between 250 hz and reach up to 2000 hz, which makes the noise deafening, longer lasting and easily adaptable. Bottles are much lower, more sudden and doesn't give you much time to adapt to it. Namely since the sound dies so quick-" Raa was suddenly interrupted by RK, the AI's voice hinting to artificial sarcasm in her tone.
"Raa'Kina... that was a joke. Voira wasn't serious, she was teasing you, again."
"Oh..." Raa started to blush through her helmet, feeling heat in her cheeks and face, realizing her mistake rather well. Movement distracted her from berating her own flaws causing her head to turn slightly, still listening to Voira continue.
The bottle rose into the air and reset itself, glowing blue. "Don't think of it as a tool to hurt someone. Think of it as..." The Asari pursed her lips, thinking. "Think of it as a tool to protect. It could be to protect yourself, or RK. It could even be to protect us. We won't always be in our peak, dazzlingly beautiful, condition. Besides, it'd be nice to be fussed over rather than having you tell us we're being too protective. Which we aren't, by the way. Being so sick that you can't stand is not good and we are perfectly justified in everything we do when that happens to you." She had Raa aim again, and steadied her once more. "Try again."
"It's getting better. Quarian immune systems are much stronger than when before the Reaper War which is thanks to a joint effort between Geth and Quarians that makes it possible." Raa defended herself, still thinking Voira made a small thing out of nothing. The weakness only lasted a few days, and it wasn't like she couldn't do anything. She could sit upright, wobble around and stumble in her walk though she often collapsed afterwards. At least it wasn't going to kill her, unlike past years where she heard stories how a simple tear in the suit had a chance in being fatal. She shuddered at the thought then aimed again.
Bam. Another clear miss, though once more the bottle fell off its perch and right into the floor. After hearing and expecting, Raa was much more prepared to brace herself for the hertz reaching her ears than before. As if to encourage her, since stopping Voira's insistence was impossible, RK chirped up with a comment.
"Shot improvement by at least a millimeter."
Voira nodded. "Every time you shoot you get better." She stepped back from Raa, letting the Quarian steady the gun by herself. "One more time. We want you to hold the gun steady by yourself when you shoot. Then we'll start on seeing what you can do if someone tries to get in melee combat with you again." The Asari didn't know when the actual meeting itself was going to begin and she wanted to get at least a basic idea of what to train Raa in. Not again. Never again.
Raa's hand was still shaky as she tried to stop it, increasing it only a bit more, before she closed her eyes. Her fingers tightened and her breath shallow, her heart thumping like a scared animal. Calm... calm down. She whispered to herself, trying to steel her nerves some. Slowly her fingers tightened when her eyes snapped open, pulling the trigger.
Bam!
Ping, clatter. The bottle was hit as the bullet clipping it in the center, where the neck and main body, hitting the floor with a loud sound and shattering into pieces. Raa blinked in shock at what she did. Her body held in place, frozen, while her mind tried to register what she had done. Her surprise was broken when Voira's arms suddenly appeared around her and clasped her close, squeezing her tightly.
"Did I do that?" Raa asked the obvious question.
Voira made a sound of joy, and then promptly attack hugged the Quarian. "You did! See? We told you you could do it! All you need to do now is practice is more and we're sure you'll have it down pat!" She practically shouted in the Quarian's ear, almost shaking poor Raa in her glee. She ignored RK, knowing the AI's feelings on this 'sweet stuff'. Putting Raa down, she grinned at her friend. "And you claimed you couldn't do it. Should have listened to us, hmmm?" She practically sang.
Raa's head felt dizzy and wobbly as the Asari shook her roughly. Her glee was clear though it seemed to have been taken to a whole new level, the Quarian's body easily bruising under the suit and thankful Voira couldn't see it. It was painful but she knew Voira's reaction was only out of happiness rather than malice which only made the pain easily bared. Though, she knew it was likely a good thing she could use medi-gel for such accidents.
When Raa finally felt her feet touch ground, her breath her breath gasped and air filled her lungs again. "Maybe, but the odds of it happening again are rather slim..."
RK scoffed, her systems still monitoring the Qaurian's bio readings, when she enhanced her image into a smaller version of her full image. "I just hope you've not broken a rib with that hug... else, listening might result in bodily harm every time."
Voira snorted. "Don't give us that. It'll happen again, we know it." She looked embarrassed as she recalled how fragile Quarians were. "Sorry, we just got...over excited for you. You're not hurt?" She eyed Raa, looking to see if there were any injuries she could notice with the suit on.
Raa noticed Voira looking at her as she immediately straightened upright, her body flaring with pain while she struggled not to flinch. Bruises weren't dangerous but they did sting well enough. Her lungs finally adjusted to the new intake of air and faded in its sharp prickling pain, the younger alien managed to catch her breath easily enough. She quickly persisted to insist she was alright as she quickly replied. "No, n-no, just a bit breathless. I'm getting use to these hugs, I promise."
Her hand was still holding the gun though her grip was far more relaxed, the fingers loosely dangled it in her grip. "Now what's next? I hope it's just shooting bottles than anything more drastic, I don't like the mention of melee and shooting in your last sentence."
Voira looked suspiciously at Raa for a few more moments before accepting her answer. Omni-gel did have it's uses after all. She grinned mischievously at the Quarain. "No, you won't be shooting during this next part. We meant defending yourself against someone within arms reach who fully intends to hurt you. Stopping them from getting that close is the purpose of the shooting. Right, so what technology do you have that could stun or paralyze temporarily someone coming after you? We somehow suspect that teaching you how to hit someone is not the route to go. Thus, we are going to see what technology you have and how to best use it." Glancing at RK she added, "Technology that isn't an AI."
"Artificial Intelligence details would likely go over your little, blue head if I need to explain the difference between me and some lifeless omni-tool application." RK stated bluntly as she paced about, settling down to sit like any organic would. It seemed pretty clear she picked up some natural habits from the Barbacus' crew.
Raa ignored RK's comment, her hand gratefully putting the pistol away, while she pulled up a list from her omni-tool. The transparent screen blared back with several options useful for a variety of things from repair to transmuting into omni-gel, her finger tapped the list to shorten it drastically when she typed in offensive. Omni-blade and incendiary attack that when activated, she could back hand a target and cause a massive explosion sending them flying back. The bad part was the last time she attempted it, she was knocked flat on her tailbone and defend-less. Not very good in defending herself, save for buying time for Voira to come to her aid. Though she could download more if needed, she choose to omit that little mention to Voira should the Asari not know, and the the thought made her middle twist painfully. The omni-blade and incendiary application was bad enough.
"Just two. An omni-blade, usually used to help pry off stripped bolts and such. A incendiary application that I can use on the lowest setting but it will leave you slightly singed." Raa said in a small voice.
"Hmm. Do you have anything that can apply a shock? Not in your offensive section, but in your regular items?" Voira asked, pointedly ignoring RK and the AI's comment. She wouldn't rise to the robot's baiting...this time. "Since you don't have any actual combat omni-tool programs, we're going have to adapt ones meant for repair. Unless there's a quick way you could get stun programs?" She doubted an incendiary program was going to not kill someone, and on the lowest mode it would merely irritate whoever was attacking her. She smiled gently at Raa. "You're not making this easy you know."
Raa shifted the search engine and the list altered again, instead of shrinking it grew. Basic functions this time as she scanned the items she knew almost by heart. "Blow torch, scanner, flashlight, dispenser, camera, games, flash, overloading application, hacking, and nothing seems to be able to make a shock unless I take something machine base and overload it?"
She admitted she didn't want to download a stun program, namely since didn't know what type or how to apply it. This field was completely out of her scope of understanding which made her uncomfortable. It also felt like personally downloading them would've made her omni-tool less hers and more a weapon of destruction, made for taking life.
Voira sighed. "Unless you want to burn someone with the blowtorch, we're gonna have to take a new approach. Can you add programs? Specifically cloaking to hide yourself, sabotage to shut down their guns so you don't get shot, Overload their shields unless that application works on shields, a cyroblast to freeze rather than kill...what's the other one that merc had...the one that shut down our biotics..." Voira snapped her fingers. "Damping! That's it! Very disconcerting to not be able to use our biotics in that fight. Not to mention, our omni-blade wouldn't work either." Voira looked at Raa. "Would all of those work if you could add them? It reassures us that you can protect yourself and keeps you from killing someone."
Raa immediately shook her head at Voira's facts as she crossed over her chest. Her hips cocked and eyes fixed on her friend, listening to the alternatives. The cloaking, sabotage, overload and even dampening sounded like suitable options. Though she wasn't too keen into turning someone into a popsicle as hypothermia was a dangerous thing and not something she wanted to be responsible for. She stood there thinking for a moment while she divided the pros and cons in her head, weighing the overall risk.
Tilting her head to the side, she spoke in a mousy voice. "So yes, I can download four of the five applications. Sabotage, Dampener, Overload, and Cloaking but you realize I'm not familiar with these so we're going to have to practice with them. Knowing my luck with CyroBlast, I'll end up freezing myself to a wall."
The Asari smiled, happy that there was finally something she could do to help Raa survive one of her protector's failures again "Of course. We wouldn't just ask you to get these programs and then figure them out in the middle of a fight. We'll even be your practice dummy." Voira smirked." A little bit of payback for all the bruises we've accidentally given you from over excited hugs. Though we do suggest you get Cyromancy to actually stop someone."
"Wait, what? That's sarcasm right?" Raa asked, apprehension growing at the thought of hurting a friend. "That's not funny."
RK, on the other hand, seemed to find the prospect rather amusing. "Oh, this will be rather fun to watch."
Raa shot her AI a look, through her glare effectiveness was dampened by the face visor hiding her features. " Keelah, why do you two find pain funny? It's not and there's no way that I would attack a friend. It's not happening."
The Quarian's finger tapped the discussed additions, quickly downloading them while she looked over the spec rapidly. Her eyes flickered in determination to seek any lethal applications and possibly delete it, preventing it from being used. Though her omni-tool was difficult to hack, she wouldn't have been surprised if someone learned how to hack one and shut it down or worse, turn it on its owner. It wasn't a plausible thought but neither were the Reapers in the past and look at how well not being prepared turned out? Raa breathed deeply when she twisted on the spot and faced Voira, "So, really... how are we going to train with these?"
Voira laughed gently. "We don't find lethal or crippling pain funny. We just find minor pain that is well deserved or that the person knew would happen funny. Things that hurt just enough to remind them of what a bad idea whatever they did was, but not enough to break bones or cause permanent damage." She smiled at Raa's denial, and subsequent question.
"What?!? I don't understand how you can find that funny!" Exclaimed Raa, her head taking another look at the Asari.
Voira shrugged. "Must be a mercenary thing." She glanced at RK. "And sarcastic AI thing. As for how we'll train, we just told you. We'll be your sparring partner. There is no other way to copy a living, thinking, opponent in a short amount of time. At the worst, we'll both leave this room with bruises. You're not attacking us. You're helping us prepare you for the next time we fail." Voira activated her shields and drew one of her pistols.
She walked a few steps back. "Surprise us. Use whichever you think would be the best first move against us."
"You realize this whole exercise is pointless, right?" The Quarian utter, her words pouring out as she watched Voira get into a ready position. It was clearly too much for the female to considering attacking violently against someone she admired or cared for. "Sparring doesn't sound much different from fighting and I'm not going to fight you, Voira."
RK rolled her digital eyes, inwardly knowing there was only one way to get Raa to fight her. Give the Quarian no choice in the matter. Something the AI wasn't sure Voira would do. Deciding to kill two birds with one stone, RK jacked back into the omni-tool and immediately took over the system, discreetly selecting the Dampener. Raa and Voira, unless the Asari was putting up a pitiful argument, were likely too busy arguing to notice the omni-tool was working on it's own.
Bzzzttt. The omni-tool glowed blue and before either female knew what happened, Voira's biotics were down.
Voira sighed in frustration. She couldn't understand why Raa didn't want to attack her. This won't hurt us. We know it because we've done this before. Why is she being so damn stubborn? She smiled wryly. Look whose talking. She took a breath before replying. "We think we've rubbed off on you. You didn't used to be this damn stubborn. Just use your new skill set. We'll be fine. We assure you." She didn't notice the Quarian's omni-tool acting oddly as she watched Raa, waiting for her friend to finally act. Thus, it came mostly as a surprise when the omni-tool glowed blue and she felt and saw a familiar, half forgotten, blue crackle across her body. Voira winced, stumbling backwards and falling, caught unprepared by the sudden attack. When she sat back up, she looked at Raa, clearly caught between happiness that Raa had finally done something, and uncertainty if she actually did it when she saw the Quarian's reaction.
"Voira!" Raa shouted, her eyes widened and shock filled her body language. Immediately her body bolted forward, halting abrupt to plop down beside Voira while her omni-tool stopped glowing. She spied a hasty glare at RK, the AI slightly smirking, and held her arm to scan the Asari's figure. Her first scan showed no broken bones, ruptured organs or anything serious, merely bumps and bruises making the Quarian release a breath in relief. She had medi gel on standby in worse case situation though it seemed her distress wasn't needed. Her eyes turned to Voira at hearing her saying something.
"That wasn't you, was it?" The Asari asked her friend, smiling at the abrupt panic and concern, before looking at RK. Or, more aptly, where she currently resided. "We appreciate the help."
"No, I didn't do it." Raa growled, her tone more annoyed than pure rage. She didn't like this one bit and RK had no permission to jack in, even if it was to prove a point. It didn't stop the Quarian from glaring at the AI who brushed off the heated look with a three fingered hand wave, her figure rising to pace toward the pair and keen down beside Voira.
"Well, you did say you wanted a surprise right?" The smugness was very thick in her voice.
"We did say we wanted a surprise, but we were thinking the surprise would come from Raa." Voira replied dryly to the smug AI.
RK took Voira's attempt to barb her in better light than the Asari likely wanted, her body pulled up and cocked her hips while she looked down. "That was your flaw, organic, in not being specific. Though Raa, her bio signs are fine and it might be best not to waste your medi-gel on her if she doesn't need it."
Voira looked up at Raa raising an eyebrow at the Quarian. "Whose being fussy now? If you were that eager in the training we could have been done by now." She winked at her friend, enjoying the brief role reversal far more than she'd thought she would have. "We're fine. A bit more on our ass than we thought we'd be, but perfectly fine. So now will you start sparring with us, or should we just give up, wait for you to build or buy a drone for RK, and then continue from there? You know which we'd prefer, but it is ultimately up to you."
Raa groaned at her options. Truthfully, she didn't like either Voira or RK fighting as she continually told the pair but neither seemed to listen to her anymore. She body turned about, allowing her to settle her back against the transport ship's hull and curled her legs close to her body. The Quarian was nearly a small ball considering her small size with her mask rested on her crossed arms. "You know a drone isn't possible with our currently tight budget. Besides, I already spent 700 credits getting the applications you requested so I might as well learn how to use them."
She immediately regretted speaking when it came to mind Voira would instantly want to know where the credits came from and the answer would've been simple: her own food supply stash. Which meant she was using about three months worth of her own credits without consulting Voira first, a matter that upset the Asari since it was basically taking food out of her own mouth. In an attempt to soften the blow, the Quarian pipped up quickly. "Please don't be mad."
Voira's eyes narrowed at the mention of the cost of the downloads. That sounded way out of their budget range. Before she could ask where the money came from, Raa piped up again. That made everything click into place. Voira shot to her feet. "Raa'Kina Nar Rannoch! What were you thinking?" She shouted. "You could have just told us that you couldn't afford the mods and we would have just improvised! Don't be mad. That's like telling a Krogan not to fight." She scowled, about to go on when she saw Raa's reaction.
Taking a deep breath, she sat next to the Quarian. "We're sorry. But you have to know that was a stupid thing to do. And you're taking our share of the credit stash. No buts. We've been alive one hundred and three years longer than you, and we're better built to take any negative affects not having seven hundred credits might bring on." She sighed and then hugged the little Quarian. "You're lucky we like you, a lot, otherwise we would never put up with you. Fortunately, we like you a lot. Well meant naivety and all."
Raa cringed at Voira's reaction, her face crunched up and shoulders tensed at the shouting Asari's voice. It was like glass on her ears to hear her friend so mad. Her foot circled her toes into the smooth floor while she waited for Voira to finish her rant, bracing for the worse case scenario, and was surprised to see the Asari suddenly breath. Hearing Voira plop down beside her, Raa's mask turned to face her friend's resolution. She went to shake her head but stopped in the middle of it when Voira said no buts, knowing full well RK would lock her access to her credits and give it to the Asari. As much as the AI and her clashed, Raa knew RK knew Voira valued her own less than the Quarian's. Voira always made sure Raa took care of herself after all.
Raa leaned her head over to rest on Voira's shoulder while the Asari hugged her tightly. It was a relief she hadn't screwed up too much while the ship's hull vibrated, signaling their arrival at the station's dock. Shortly they would disembark and enter for the upcoming job Raa had to do. It was difficult getting them to accept her 'unofficial' bodyguard until she mentioned Voira was her personal security to ensure she was safe during her work. The man who recruited her seemed to have found her explanation barely plausible as she struggled with the lie, but he still allowed her to bring her friend along.
"I'm glad, I thought I really messed things up this time." Raa said in a relieved tone.
Voira shook her head, before resting her cheek on Raa's helmet. "No. Though this is right up there with that time you thought that human really wanted to have you help them treat an injured us in the dark ally, out of sight, with no witnesses, alone. Despite the fact we went into the bar for only a few moments. Like we said. We like the well meant naivety and all the rest. Even the insistence upon not killing those who might be trying to kill you. Though we suppose that's why we're here."
"How was I supposed to know? I heard gun shots, saw injured civilians and he knew your name. It's not like I was completely naive. Just didn't like the fact you might be bleeding and helpless, you have to admit you do get reckless. If I didn't have a ready supply of medi-gel, you could've been crippled or worse by now." Raa defended herself recalling the incident and the near mugging. She lost her credits, and nearly ended up being left for dead if Voira didn't show up. It was among the few close encounter with her friend's worse side she rather never remember. "I don't ever want to see you like that. You were really mad and I thought you were going to be purple for days."
Voira's face darkened as she remembered the incident, her body tensing in anger. It was the last time she had entered a bar when Raa was with her. She had entered to get a brief drink, and come out moments later, at RK's repeated alarms in to Voira's omni-tool, to find Raa injured and a human trying to transfer her credits. Voira hadn't bothered with pulling her gun out, simply using her biotics to slam the mugger into the wall. Ignoring him, she had examined Raa in a state of panic, RK having to repeat herself multiple times to get it through to the Asari that Raa wasn't stabbed or shot, just nearly unconscious.. Thus reassured, Voira turned her gaze to the recovering mugger, and her panic turned to white hot rage.
The Asari hadn't used her pistol, or any guns. She had beat the man to death with her bare, biotically charged, fists. She didn't know how much Raa had saw, but enough that Voira knew she had scared the Quarian.
"The bastard had hurt you, and was getting ready to do far worse. We weren't going to let him get away with that. We're never going to let anyone get that close to hurting you again. Not even on this mission." She sighed in disappointment and then, "We'd best get going. Don't want to be late to your meeting with whoever hired you, hmm?"
Raa nodded. Though she knew Voira had good intentions, her heart trembled at the memory and the Asari's hot blooded rage toward the mugger. She saw enough to know a quarter of what her friend was capable of doing to someone when they crossed a line. It made her grateful Voira liked her and was willing to do whatever, even if she wasn't happy about it, to protect her. "Yep, and I much rather make a good impression the first time."
Raa rose upright and bent down to help the Asari up, then when the pair started to move to the door she paused. "Ummm.... shouldn't we clean up our mess first?"
Voira just smirked, looking over her shoulder as everything glowed the familiar biotic blue once more. The objects floated and shifted, each returned to their original place just when the Quarian voiced her question. "What mess?" The biotic asked innocently as she left.
Raa blinked, adding while she following the Asari's wake and passing back the pistol. "I will never get used to that..." | Name: Raa’Kina (Raa for short)
Species: Quarian.
Age: 21
Gender: female
Appearance:
Raa’Kina, outside her suit, looks like most other Quarians her young age. She has the pale, humanoid figure with the bowed legs, three digit hands, and two toe feet, all of it standing at a total of 5’6” in height. Lean muscle and a subtle mix of curves grace her frame, including a modest bust, common in the fairer gender of her race. Under the mask, her face has soft, rounded features whenever she compares her own to her mother’s far more angular and mature ones. It seems her illuminating pupils tend to ooze empathy and scream naivety in every look, a trait she founds more annoying than elegant as some of her suitors put it. Two dark lines trace her neck front, branching off in the common found way, with two lines running from her slanted eyes to her hairline.
Though these traits are common, she also has her own personal design and choices in style that makes her stand out in her own right. Namely to give her more individuality compared to other Quarians her own age group. Her dark, raven black hair is cut short, shaggy with wavy bangs as its tossed naturally into a playful mess. Just at the nape of her neck is a single section left untouched and roped into a braid that reaches to the neck base, held together by wiring that holds personal value.
Weapons/Equipment:
Pistol- Basic and simple, she uses this to protect herself during her piligramage
Omnitool- Raa’Kina’s toy when she was younger was her omnitool, enjoying mathical algorithms to a streaming lines of data and much later became her must need item on her person at all times. It has both the most widely and common Quarian applications, alongside some of her personalized designed ones. One she’s very proud in is a navigation program that hasn’t failed her and was designed thanks to help from her human great aunt (adopted) Devryn.
AI- An artificial intelligence evolved from an older VI programming by her grandfather Pai’Seef. Since the Reaper War and the fact the AI had been helpful, her grandfather’s punishment was somewhat lighter than prewar times though he still willingly accepted it. Once known as Raa’Kina, the AI now goes by RK for short due to the two sharing a name. RK is blunt, logical yet has a sense Quarian nature to her interactions and expressions which makes it seem she is nothing more than another organic on the omnitool comm. Despite her emotional display in her visual, she can’t fully understand the emotions she shows or why they are appropriate for the occasion. Sometimes she can seem a bit insensitive or rude, her attitude designed by Pai’Seef and long since evolved into her own.
Skills and Abilities:
Software knowledge and talent- Raa’Kina is a logical, if cheerful individual, who is very talented in software area of technology. She can repair, rebuild, or salvage almost any sort of software there which makes sense why her homeworld believed she was a good choice for this mission. Sadly, like her grandfather who she inherited the talent from, her skills in actually building the machine is sadly is average compared to her software abilities.
Decent Shooter- Raa’Kina can and does practice the base marksman skills for her pistol, namely to prevent injuring someone who doesn’t deserve it. And that’s anyone who has the nerve to attack her or her allies. Sadly she’s not perfect in this skill and distance does tend to matter with her aim, the farther distance the target is from her location then the harder it is to hit it. However, she won’t shoot unless she’s got a high chance at hitting it.
Tech Powers
Basics:
Blow torch- basic engineer tool used for welding and cutting metals.
Scanner- determine flaws, damages, and other details on an inanimate object
Flashlight- enable to see in dark places
Dispenser- holds medi-gel and any converted omni-gel used for unlocking stubborn doors
Camera- able to take images and store them within her omnitool
Games unit- solution to boredom problems
Fash- able to cause a brief, overpowering flare of light that can blind surrounding enemies Duration: few seconds Recharge: 10 seconds
Hacking- able to jack into machines, doors, and even other omni-tools (later much harder)
Omni-blade- super heated, disposable blade used to peel off aged bolts
Sabotage: Overheats and disables weapons requiring the affected target to eject and reload their thermal clip before being able to use again. In addition, it can hack and turn hostile synthetics into allies.
Recharge Speed: 8 seconds or more (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Medium (target must be tagged/scanned before hand for hijacking a synthetic)
Target Number: 1
Dampener: Increases explosion radius of proximity mines, or like explosion items. It also shuts down both surrounding enemy tech and biotic abilities, temporary disabling a small group for a short time but at a high recharging time cost.
Recharge Speed: 40 seconds (3-4 posts estimated)
Range: Close (within eyesight)Target Number: small group (3-4)
Overload: Overloads electronics by creating a power surge and also stunning her enemies for a brief time. Effective against shields, barriers, and synthetics. Not nearly as effective on organics, if at all.
Recharge Speed: 8 or more seconds (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Close (within eyesight)
Target Number: 1
Tactical Cloaking: By reflecting and wrapping light about the user, it renders them invisible. Sight is the only sense affected as the user can still be smelt, heard and felt if she careless enough. Once hit, the shield shuts down and the user is revealed back to a visible status. This doesn’t protect the user besides hiding her from sight, still allowing her to be hurt or possibly killed on discovery.
Recharge Speed: 20 seconds (2-3 posts, estimated)
Range: N/A
Duration: Short period, mostly depending on skill/story need
Target Number: N/A
Background:
Raa’Kina was born from Xemel’Sinara vas Aerata and Terna’Welyxi nar Rannoch, she is the second child in her family to be born on the newly rebuilt homeworld. For the most part, she could say her life was pretty average throughout her childhood. There of course was the natural slight changes to her race’s culture and views toward the Geth, the Reaper War nearly ushered every living thing into extinction had managed at least one positive thing after costing so many their lives. According to the dwindling elders’ stories, much has changed compared to their time. Technology studied from the Reapers brought most races to equal grounds when it came to life quality, advancement, and more. The biggest achievement in the Quarians’ view was gaining their own planet again. After everything that happened, the tension between the Quarians and Geth seem like a faint, distant memory compared to the modern age she lived in. Now a days on her homeworld, one rarely walked out onto the street without seeing the two races mingling in the sun’s dense rays, making her recall her grandfather’s last recorded words that this was an event that should’ve happened long ago.
When Raa’Kina reflects on her past, she only has a few memories, both good and bad, that stick up in her mind. Nothing she feels is interesting compared to her grandfather Pai’Seef’s or grandaunt Devryn’s experiences while working at Farian’s Ship Repair in their younger years. However, they are very hard to forget.
The youngest she can recall is at seven years old, she learned how dangerous it was when she wasn’t aware of her surroundings. Faulty and experimental machinery, developed from the Reaper War data, had malfunctioned bring the massive thing crumbling down the distracted girl. Geth and several Quarians had been chatting nearby when one unit noticed the event. She was lucky to come off with just a scratch, one of the nearest Geth units immediately spurred into action and scooped her away from the crash zone before she was killed. It took several minutes for her to calm down, her mother finally peeling her off the machine, and held her close in a comforting embrace. The bad part was she never got to thank the Geth who saved her personally.
Later, at the age of ten, she met another who shared the same name as herself. A curious AI, created and stood side by side with her grandfather, contacted her during the funeral. She was shocked such a being knew her, let alone having the same name. Curiosity won out over her caution, like usual, causing the pair to get very acquainted with one another through the common link: Pai’Seef. She learned, even to this day, much about the relative she hadn’t much chance to know better from his adventures during employment under Nasyrius’ Barbacus crew employed by the Farian Ship Repair to the Reaper War defense, as well as his punishment for creating the AI. Though RK, as she is referred to now as, suffered no ill effects, she disagreed with Quarian government’s punishment despite it being lessened due to services rendered and lives saved by his actions.
Intrigued by RK’s stories, Raa’Kina’s first destination on her pilgrimage was right into the most likely still surviving member who served with her grandfather, the asari Noami’lie Tynci. During the Reaper invasion, the asari lost her company in damages when it came to defending the planet and afterwards went into bankruptcy which had caused great heartache in the end. The only thing she managed to keep was the Barbacus, an asari light freighter in the destiny class, modified by both Pai’Seef and Devryn. It was here she learned what happened to the rest, learning the hard truth of why Noami’lie had kept the starship. Though Nasyrius died during the War, the two ended up having a daughter together named Nyasea who surpisingly seemed to have taken many traits from her father causing the Quarian to bid them farewell at the end of her visit.
She continued her pilgrimage for the next few months before she ended up getting roped into a deal with five Turians, currently involved with the selling of high level software at an ideal price. At first, she thought would be ideal for back home without thinking why they would've sold it at half the normal credits, taking their explanation it was second hand and per-owned. Things went terribly wrong when the Turians started to become more touchy than she was comfortable with. She started to withdrew her interest and they didn't take kindly to that, one of them immediately closing their three fingered hand about her arm to pull her back. Naturally Raa'Kina panicked. She went for her pistol, but one had managed to get behind and prevent her from drawing it. RK was about to do something when suddenly two Turians dropped, including the one holding her, causing her to duck behind the nearest cover. It was her first time ever being in a live gunfight while quickly showed her lacking skills in the area resulting her in getting a minor injury. RK embarrassed her some by uttering out why it was a bad idea as she showed her lacking experience in the world, something she inwardly believes her casually brushing off the incident didn't help her case.
So, for a another few years both Voira and RK accompanied her, herstrong desire to gain a rich experience and more driving her onward, much like the Barbacus’ crew had. Among her travels she encountered various colonies, aiding in their survival with her talent, which expanded her knowledge about others outside Quarian. Often it was in exchange for credits, place to stay or even pay for her next trip out though to say it was completely safe was an understatement. Piracy and theft had became more common in the following years, even though the Reapers no longer was a common threat, which had force Raa’Kina to start keeping her pistol locked and ready at all times. She had a few close calls but thanks to RK, they managed to avoid trouble well enough.
A few weeks ago, RK had received a message that she had been contacted and hired for aiding the colonization of a planet within the Pylos Nebula, the first time in their long history. It was a chance to explore and possibly benefit her homeworld most of all. Though KR logically predicted the odds that something would go wrong against the right, the AI kept her mouth shut, hitching a ride with the gruff Voira and naive Quarian youth. |
1,362 | 30 | 2 | 507 | 626 | Dong & Cactus
Burning. Something was burning. Screaming. The screaming was so loud. Tacticus jumped up eyes closed tightly and jaw clenched as if a bomb had gone off. It stopped. Tacticus opened his eyes slowly. There was ash raining down all around him. He took his hands off his ears and listened for the screaming, it was gone. Infact it was quiet, so quiet it was almost deafening. the only noise was of the ash hitting the ground and his own breathing. Tacticus started panicking before he realized there was nothing around him at all. There was nothing but ash and dead trees all around him. There was also a light fog to the clearing he was in, though the fog extended well past the clearing and eventually obscured what he guessed were more dead trees. Tacticus managed to compose himself but something..... some.... feeling just made him want to fear. Once more he looked frantically around himself, nothing. He brought his hands to his face quickly and tried to rub out the nightmare. When he pulled his hands away they were black and burned, his skin peeling away to reveal charred tendons and muscles.
This inferno was like something strait out of hell. First there was just silence, almost serene. But than came the flash, and the sounds. The screeching of metal, screams that echoed in Donny's ears. He couldn't even got a chance to look around before he was knocked off his feet. All he could see was red. By the time Donny woke up, everything was white. His vision was blurry and everything was hazy. He thought it was snowing, but it wasn't cold. He smelled blood and fire, and felt ashy and sweaty. When he could see clearly, he was surrounded by ash. Crawling to his feet Donny tried to find his way around. He could only see ash, and occasionally a tree. It never occurred to him he was stuck in a obscuring fog. He never noticed how badly burned his body was; he was practically a walking skeleton at this point at this point.
Tacticus's eyes grew wide and the screaming returned. It was as if million of voices were all screaming at the top of their lungs. The sound was so intense it made Tacticus collapse to his knees and press his hands tightly over his ears. It did nothing to dampen the sound and Tacticus started yelling back at the screams, as if it would make them stop. He shut his eyes tightly again, then it stopped....again. Breathing heavily and incredibly concerned Tacticus opened his eyes again. There was a large, white, and vaguly humanoid shard in front of him. Tacticus struggled back tears at how bright it was. But, there was something that made him want to look at it. Like maybe if he reached out and touched it this would be over. Still on his knees he reached up and tried to touch it. It suddenly reached out and grabbed his forearm and the noise started again. But this time it wasn't a scream it was a high pitched whine which began jumping up and down in frequency. Tacticus tried to bring his hands to his ears but the shard would not let his arm go and grabbed his other arm. Tacticus began yelling at it aswell as fiercely as he could with tears running down his eyes from the brilliance of the being. It began leaning towards him and suddenly began to get bigger....and bigger. The noise became suddenly low pitched and large tendrils of light arched up out of it's back as the white began to engulf his vision.
And than came the screaming. It was so much worse this time, like... Like a thousand voices that were once silent, now free to unleash their eternal anguish. Donny tried to cover his ears it but was like he was trapping the voices in his head now, rebeating against his hand and skull. "Stop, shut up, SHUT UP!" Donny's own screams joined the chorus of agony in his head. He started to run as though he could flee from the screaming. That's when he saw... Him? Her? It was a white silhouette. Donny couldn't even look at it directly, as it was so bright. The screams in his head and the light from this thing was driving him mad. He swung blindly in front of him as though if he could just strike the being, this nightmare would be over. But instead it reached out and grabbed his arms. The screaming stopped, but a new noise replaced it. It was low at first, but than reached an extremely high decibel. It was like a screech, but not from any human or voice. It was so loud, and this being so bright, Donny struggled and fought to be freed, but he just couldn't manage it. He was engulfed in a white light before he could even cry for help.
Tacticus was laying down again. He blinked as the ashes began raining down into his eyes. He sat up out of the soft layer of ash he was laying it. The trees and the ash had returned, he was relieved. There was something different this time. A metal bench that seemed to be made out of one solid piece of smooth metal with no breaks was protruding from the ash. Yet none of the ash was landing on it nor was it covered in ash. Tacticus stood up and walked over to the bench. He placed his hand on it just to make sure it was real and then sat down, looking at the dead trees and ashes.
Donny was flat on the ground once more. He coughed and hacked as the ash got into his mouth. His throat was so hoarse and dry. A layer of ash had covered his body. There was no more fog, just ash and trees as far as the eye could see. But there was one new thing: a metal bench that seemed to be carved from a single slab, like a giant rock. But despite the ash raining around him, the bench had no ash on it itself, like the ash simply would not lay there. Curious Donny want over to this bench, carefully nudging it with his foot to ensure that it wasn't just a trick of his mind. Once he could feel the solid resistance Donny sat on the bench and took in the scenery around him.
Tacitcus felt a feeling of calmness wash over him as he watched the ash dance around each other and catch the air in a certain way that made them randomly change direction and speed up their never ending process of falling. He closed his eyes and leaned back over the chair which only came up to about his mid back and breathed in deeply. The air was silent and warm, it was so peaceful in fact that Tacticus wanted to stay there on that bench forever. He even heard the laugh of young Turian children over to his right, he couldn't even remember the last time he saw what he was fighting for. He looked over but did not see children. Instead there was a Turian women in full armor which looked old to him, he was also facing an Asari who looked to be in similarly advanced armor. "I don't care if you think your children are still alive! I watched them die and if you don't come with me you will join them. I refuse to allow that!" the Turian was yelling loudly at the shorter Asari.
It was strangely peaceful, sitting here on this mysterious bench. He watched the ash fall from the skies like snow, twisting and turning, fusing and falling. No matter which way they went or what happened to each flake they never fell on the bench or Donny. Relaxed he laid on his back, extending his hand to catch the ash that seemed to avoid his touch. Compared to the chaos and pain before, Donny liked this calm much more, and would have liked to do nothing but stay there forever. He heard the sound of children to his right, forgetting all about what just had occurred. But when he looked he saw no children, but a group of men, armed and armored, crouching in the ash. They seemed to be waiting for someone, and than one of the men shouted. "Go, stop them here before it's too late! We can't let them get the kids!" Than the rest of the men stood up and started shooting.
"If they were yours you wouldn't be so quick to leave! We arn't leaving until I go get them!" The Asari was crying and in rage began to glow with biotic energy and threw the Turian several meters and she landed and skidded on the ground into a tree. Obviously out of breath the Turian began reaching out to the Asari unable to muster words. Then fire erupted from the ground and the Asari took a run at it. The Turian began crawling back towards the fire when the screams of an Asari started.
"There are too many! We... We should go back, and protect the others!" Said one of the men. Soon, one by one, the men stopped shooting and ran, despite the protest of the one who Donny assumed was their superior officer. The man shouted at them, looking hesitantly back and forth between the enemy that Donny could not see, and the direction the men ran towards. Soon there was fire erupting around them, and the man dropped his gun. He looked scared, almost as though he was going to run himself. And than he pulled out a knife.
"Spirits damn it! Why!" The Turian yelled out clearly emotionally distressed. Then a large crashing noise and then an extremely loud fog horn sounding noise came from further in the same direction the Turian and Asari were in. The Turian looked further into the gray blackness and punched the ground in fury. She picked an assault rifle out of the ash and began running towards Tacitcus. But then he noticed something the Turian looked familiar. And as she drew closer to him time began to slowed down it finally clicked.
"I can't let them pass... I'm the only one left." The last man was obviously scared. He could barely stand his ground, let alone hold his weapon. But despite that, he gripped his knife and walked forward. A loud roar echoed in the landscape, like the last sound he heard before he had awoken moment's before. That's when the man turn towards Donny. Did he see him? Was he looking at something else? Regardless, the man ran towards Donny, holding his knife with the intent to us it. But as he came close, Donny noticed something... Familiar.
"G-grandma?" Tacitcus said as the two made eye contact. The fog horn noise kicked up again but this time so loud Tacticus felt his teeth chatter. He put his head between his legs and began yelling to try and dampen the noise but nothing came out. The noise just kept getting louder and louder but this time the noise sounded like it was omnipresent. No direction, no source just existing. Then the noise suddenly became less loud and the source of it moved in front of him. He looked up hands still covering his earholes and saw 2 pairs of 3 eye clusters made of light above the ground out in the darkness. Then the noise stopped. Then an incrediably powerful and deep voice said "Breach". Then a wave of fire began consuming the area in front of him. It was like a wave made of fire that rushed up to greet him. It hit his legs and burned them to but bone, his hands moved slower and Tacticus had time to watch the flesh and muscle burn and then rip itself from his hands. Then a shockwave knocked him up and out of the chair into the air. It sent him spinning and inbetween two trees.
He landed face first into a pile of ash and got some of it in his mouth which he then quickly spat and coughed out. He grabbed his side in pain and then craned his head to look in front of himself. He was staring face to face with a human.
"Grandpa?!" Donny looked into the eyes of his grandfather. The loud roar echoed again, so loud that Donny could feel the vibrations through his body. He grabbed his ears and pushed his head against the stone bench, as if it was somehow suppose to make the roar softer. Donny screamed in pain and thought his ears were bleeding. His head felt like it was getting crushed by a rock, or getting torn apart in a blender. Donny turned to see if he could find his grandfather, but what he saw instead was a set of glowing eyes. The moment he saw them, the noise stopped. Instead it was replaced with a deep and intimidating voice. "Breach." And once more, the world was turned into fire and ash. Donny felt his skin fry and his blood boil, like his entire body was going to become liquidifed in this inferno. The blast of fire was so intense that it caused an explosion that blew Donny off the bench and deeper into the forest.
He was thrown onto his back, causing a small pile of dust to build up on him as he slowed to a stop. Donny could hardly feel his body at this point. He wasn't sure if he even had one. But sure enough, as the pain continued to surge through his body, he was able to at least move his head and take a look around him. Then he found himself staring face-to-face with a turian. | Name: Tacticus Agnom
Nickname: Cactus
Species: Turian
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Stands at just over six feet.
Weapons/Equipment:
M-37 Tempest Submachine gun
K-22 Ursus Heavy pistol
Reinforced Gauntlets & gloves
Skills and Abilities:
Rookie - Tacticus has not participated in any combat against real hostiles. While he has been extensively trained and there are several veterans on the team, there is no true substitute to the real thing. This also lends itself to his biotics skills being limited aswell.
Cabalist - At 15 when Tacticus joined the Turian military he was immediately separated from his classmen and put into a Cabal training program. Among biotic training Tacticus was also given heavily specialized training as a shock troop, meaning he is skilled with pistols, explosives, and infiltration.
Combat Biotic - Tacticus's biotics are strong enough for his abilities to be used as weapons on their own. Most of his abilties are focused on augmenting his own body for the time being. Though his manipulation of mass effect fields beyond his own body are limited he only needs his hands to punch a hole through most people and objects.
Pilot - As part of his training in the Cabal he is rated to pilot most vehicles if need be.
Background: Tacticus was born to 40 year old parents both of whom were special forces in the Turian military. This meant that after parental leave one of them had to retire from active combat to raise Tacticus, his father ended up volunteering for the job and took a position planning operations while his mother continued her active service. Since he was an only child Tacticus was given quite a bit of attention from his father which ended up shaping him into a shinning model of Turian selflessness. Though since his parents were both serving the military Tacticus never stayed on one planet or space station long. This meant he generally had few friends which he always knew he would have to leave behind, he never became very attached to them as a consequence. That changed however when his mother was injured during an operation and forced to retire from her active combat position. When Tacticus was given the news he was pulled out of his class. The young Tacticus was so distraught learning this he accidentally discovered his biotics. From that point on Tacticus isolated himself from others his age as he did not want to hurt them. His parents knew that this would force him into the Cabals when he turned 15 so they decided it was best to wait out the last few years and provide support as best they could.
When Tacticus was signing his life to the Hierarchy he was afraid of what his fellow soldiers would think of him in basic. He knew the stigma he was facing, after all his own parents didn't trust him when he first found out. While the following year was not as bad as he thought it would be it still left him alone whenever they were not doing exercises or general training. But when all of their assignments were being dolled out Tacticus was immediately assigned to the cabals. Thus began his grueling two years of training.
An odd thing happened though when he became apart of the all biotic strike force. He finally felt like he was home. Most people in the cabal he was assigned to had similar stories to his and it made Tacticus feel like he truly fit in somewhere. The companionship Tacticus built up with his Cabal through blood, sweat, and tears during their demanding endurance exercises and the fact that they were alone together made him become extremely close with his squad and vice versa. The squad spirit that was exemplified through their well oiled actions later in training was one of power and determination to assist the Hierarchy in any way possible.
Recently the squad was given a handler and moved to the outer reaches of colonized space. They are set to provide security in the Pylos Nebula and to deal with any more dangerous elements that always pop up on new colonies. Currently however they have been assigned to a ship that will act as their temporary home. |
1,363 | 30 | 3 | 799 | 7,421 | Avatar, Voira, & Raa'Kina
It had been twenty-seven minutes since Avatar began searching for any of the planet's representatives that it might speak to, and a statistically improbable pattern had emerged among those it had found. All of the locals it found, whether they were a representative or simple security, gave common excuses meant to politely refuse conversation. Even accounting for normal variation in personal willingness to communicate with strangers, there was a 12% chance that all of the excuses were truthful. Avatar concluded that the representatives from the planet were likely avoiding speaking with it, but it had insufficient data to determine the reason. Though, the two strongest possibilities were that the local inhabitants of the planet were distrustful toward the Geth or Council, or that they had been instructed not to speak to any Council representatives until the meeting itself.
Avatar determined that its present course of action was unpreductive; however, it also could not determine a more productive use of its time with present information. As a result, Avatar elected to remain at its current location, near the end of a hallway on the top deck of the station, and perform extranet searches on the process of colonization until it found a more efficient use of its time.
The halls were pretty empty when Voira and Raa entered them. It only took a quick glance around to note there was little to one walking them, mainly since no one save those who were chosen for the project were scheduled here, allowing Raa to feel a bit less nervous. Her pace quickened until she pulled ahead of her asari friend as she twisted back, her front facing backwards while she continued walking the same direction Voira was. She has had plenty practice to ensure she wasn't about to stumble down or trip over her feet whenever she walked this way.
"Voira, you realize if I learn to defend myself than I wouldn't need you as my personal protection, right?" Raa teased, her hands folded behind her back and feet kept moving back.
Her head tilted just in time to note how far before she reached the corner and kept track of distance in the back of her head. It wasn't hard to see she was trying not to think about her first day on the job, mainly since she had only met the supervision Quarian once during the whole time the pair had been here.
Voira smiled as Raa walked backwards in front of her. It was a habit that had taken her several falls to get down pat, much to Voira's amusement. The Asari preferred the emptiness of the hall to the crowds she had expected. the quiet made it easier to notice any suspicious sounds, like a gun being loaded or steps coming to quickly behind them. Granted, they hadn't made any enemies recently(at least not to Voira's knowledge) and it was doubtful that anyone would want to kill them, but it never hurt to be careful, right?
"We'd still stick around. After all, we've been making sure you stayed out of trouble for so long, we wouldn't know what to do with ourselves. And besides, you'd miss our fussing and overprotectiveness. Not to mention, we still need to teach you how to shoot and that seems like a process that'll take decades." Voira smiled gently to take any sting out of her teasing.
As they rounded the corner, Voira only had time to notice that the Geth was there and not a threat before Raa crashed into Avatar, stumbling a few steps forward. "We think we're safe from you getting rid of us. After all, who would protect you from running into Geth?" She commented to Raa, catching the Quarian before she fell helmet first into the ground, then introducing herself. "We are Voira Sirosi. Our friend, who is about to be profusely apologizing to you, is Raa'Kina Nar Rannoch. We are here to protect her, while she is here to fix...things, or so we assume. A pleasure to meet you." She extended her hand to the robot.
Avatar detected the footsteps coming from around the corner, though it did not anticipate the Quarian to round the corner backwards and run into its platform. As the Asari introduced herself, the panels surrounding Avatar's eye shifted inward in a way that mimicked curiosity, as it noted that she seemed to be referring to herself in plural form. Curious, Avatar searched through the personnel files for the entry on Voira Sirosi. For this operation, most personnel files were brief, and focused primarily on their skills, but the "comments" section of the file did note her peculiar style of speech. It also mentioned that she was reluctant to go into detail when asked, so Avatar elected not to mention it.
Avatar shook Voira's hand, being quite familiar with the custom. "I am Avatar." It stated. There was a time when its greeting was more complicated, as it explained that the name was an identifier for the convenience of organics. However, as time had passed and its individuality had become more developed, Avatar had started to think of itself less as simply "Geth." It recognized that it had changed measurably as a result of its time apart from the Geth's primary hub above Rannoch. Based on historical data of other Geth programs, it recognized that it now drew different conclusions on some topics and situations than what most other Geth would have before and shortly after the Reaper War. As an organic would describe, it had a personality.
"It is also a pleasure to meet you." Avatar said, in order to fulfill expectations of politeness. "Your personnel file states that your role in the project is a technical advisor, Creator Raa'Kina. I am here for a similar purpose. My role is to ensure the establishment of Geth servers, and represent general Geth interests in order to ensure optimal cooperation with Creator colonists. However, the local representatives have denied all attempts at communication which I have made. It is possible that they have been instructed to refuse communication with us until the officially scheduled meeting."
Raa'Kina expected to crash into the ground, the sting would've lasted only a few minutes, but instead she felt Voira's hands reach under her arms and stop her fall dead in her tracks. The Quarian had been surprised she didn't manage to hit the hard floor and crack her helmet when she heard Voira speak to the Geth. Gently, she was settled firmly back on her feet before she spotted her friend pull out her hand for a gesture adapted by many cultures. More carefully than she had been when she carelessly walked into the Geth, Raa twisted about to face him and as Voira predicted, had been about to stumble over her apologies.
Instead she was caught off gaurd by the Geth addressing her as Creator, her nose scrunched up and head tilted at the curious title. Even if she was part of the origin race that made the Geth, she never liked whenever the other Geth had referred to her in that manner. Her hand came behind her helmet to rub the surface, a habit she picked up from other species, when he stated his problem.
"I prefer Raa to be honest. Considering my earlier actions, I don't think I'm fit for that title or anything fancy really." She said bluntly, hoping he would understand, and added. "I'm very sorry for crashing into you, it wasn't my intention really. I'm not the most observate of my surrounding most the time so I didn't see you there. As for representatives, have you tried everyone? Is there someone in perticular you need to talk to or contact?"
"Acknowledged." Avatar answered with a confirming nod before moving on to her question. "No. My reason for seeking them was only to gain more data on the current situation. It was a non-essential task. Currently, I am performing extranet searches for the process of colonization, and Turian culture. However, the extranet connection speed in this system is only 5.23% of the speed on Rannoch, or 0.64% of the speed on the Citadel. It seems that a more efficient use of the remaining time until the meeting would be to meet with other members of the Council delegation, such as yourselves."
RK, familiar with the slower speed, materialized and started to weigh in her thoughts. It was likely the Geth had already tried them but it was worth a shot. "Tried accessing it from another area within in the station? The lobby area usually increases extranet speed. Though I can't fully assess what you've tried, namely on lacking information, though despite the lengthy process, organic's method of trial and error works well enough to be worth note."
Raa nodded while she frowned at the Geth's response. Truthfully she only knew a bit about the current project and that was the basics, anything related to her current task. "Well, I'm afraid I can't give you anymore information than what I was given, Avatar. Though if your task is similar, we could likely end up working side by side during the system checks."
Avatar looked to the holographic projection. Raa'Kina's personnel file, though brief, did mention that her suit contained an artificial intelligence by the name of "RK." Although, considering that it was an AI, Avatar considered it curious that it did not possess its own personnel file. "That was a considered possibility. However, the queries I am performing are non-standard searches, and therefore not cached in local networks. Common searches are downloading at 78% of Citadel extranet speeds. The communications buoy in this system may be using inadequate technology, or in otherwise poor condition."
Shifting its focus to Raa herself, Avatar nodded once more. Its use of nonverbal body language was actually notable compared to other Geth. All Geth had access to information on organic interactions and customs, but not all had adapted said customs into their programming. "If your work involves the construction or programming of server infrastructure, that is possible."
"Part of it does, other part deals with the mining and farming machines as well as the support systems to substain the other living organisms on the colony surface. Pointless to have a base colony if the air filtering system doesn't clean out the impurities and instead, kills those who breath it, isn't it?" Raa commented while RK flickered outside the corner of her mask, the young Quarian struggling not to jerk her head around to stare at the AI. She knew RK was up to something but what, she wasn't sure. It wasn't until she spoke did Raa's curiosity cease.
"The signals are of poor quailty, though if you readjust and bounce off key statelites than the singal strength becomes stronger." She looked at the Geth a bit, her shoulders cocked as she tilited her head. "Raa, your first and main project is to ensure the programming of the server infrastructure works properly with most Qaurian and other organic systems which from the sounds of it, you'll be working with Avatar often enough. As well as will our supervisor."
Raa nodded, her shoulders slumped a bit at the thought. It made her nervous, the longer she thought of it, the worse it become though there was little she could do about it. It likely was also to keep an eye on RK though Raa had tried to ignore the few dirty looks that were directed at both of them, pulling Voira from attempting to break their faces in. Last thing that would do was to have her personal body guard becoming over zealous in her duties else the asari might've been ejected from the project and force Raa to complete it alone and exposed.
"I have already implemented your recommended solution, but it is only effective for locally cached files. Files stored out of system must be acquired via FTL download links by the communications buoy. This process cannot be accelerated without improving the buoy's hardware, or using military priority clearance. " Avatar answered.
Before Avatar could say anything further, a set of footsteps drew close enough to confirm that they were approaching. Around the same corner from which Raa had accidentally ran into its mobile platform, a group of five individuals, all Turian, approached. A few of them glanced at the trio as they walked past, but for the most part, the group ignored them. They were not members of the council delegation, and were all armed and armored, which likely meant they were a part of the local representatives' security force. The armor they wore was not uniform in model or design, bearing no identifiable markings that would link them to established groups. This would support the conclusion that they were from the planet itself, but Avatar noted that their weapons and armor were all uncharacteristically new for a planet with below-average galactic trade. The weapons in particular were al recent models, created within the last five years by Devion Industries and Ekloss Combine. The group stopped for only a moment as one of the Turians seemed to recieve a communication through his earpiece, to which he responded with a simple "Yes ma'am," and prompted the others to increase their pace. Avatar made no comment yet, instead standing silently as it performed a number of calculations on the probabilities of different scenarios created by its observations.
Voira paid just enough attention to the conversation to understand it was still about technical details that didn't really concern her. She scanned the hallways, watching for anyone who might be suspicious or hostile to Raa(yes, this included anyone giving the Quarian dirty looks). She wouldn't try to break their faces with her fist, just talk to them and make sure they got the message. If they happened to land face first on the ground, then that was just a coincidence. Her attention was drawn to the five Turians, her curiosity piqued by their rapid pace, lack of emblems, and shiny new guns. As they kept moving by, Voira spoke to the Geth. "Avatar, has the planet recieved a shipment of new weapons and armors recently? If not, RK can you run their faces through your recognition software? We're curious who these Turians are. If they're a represenative's security, they should have something marking them as such. If they're planetside, they should have something marking that as well." In preparation for something nasty, Voira put a barrier around Raa. Better safe than sorry.
If the group of Turians noticed anything Voira was doing, they did not show it. Instead, they hurried on their way, heading towards the door at the end of the hall. Avatar judged that they were not likely interested in their group at all, though their behavior was still of interest. Upon Voira's question, Avatar looked to her to acknowledge her. It quickly scanned all of the files on the planet it had access to (a process which took a total of .43 miliseconds), but found no results relevant to her question. "No data available on local imports. No conclusions can be drawn from the quality of their armaments."
RK's eyes glossed over in the image, her mind quickly gleaming whatever she could from every data cashe and nook she could access. Though it was mostly limited which proved rather insufficient. Even when she narrowed down gender, height, ratio for weight (allowing a bit of breathing room) and possible age estimations still only lowered it down to about a billion and that was just registered in the Citadel, which didn't make this search any easier with the slower speed. It was like beating against water from what she recalled Pai'Seef's description to be.
"Having a slower time here, Voira. Speed is completely inferior compared to better designs and I've been able to scrap up a billion or so files. None are matching up so far which isn't lowering the odds of trouble." RK stated bluntly as she continued to try to hasten her search abilities. Part of her was considering hacking into the server, overriding the authority and trying to gain greater permission but that wouldn't go over well for Raa. At best she would've been ejected off the project and at worse, imprisoned and dealt with by the local authorities. Neither was a option in this situation that RK was willing to accept.
Raa, on the other hand, looked from Voira to Avatar than to RK. She looked at a lost for words as she had a bad feeling where this was going to lead to: complete and total trouble. "Voira, what are you going to do?" Her voice was worried, her mask turned to the asari, likely guessing what was about to happen.
Voira nodded ,knowing as well as Raa what was likely about to happen, before glancing sideways at the Quarian and speaking in an innocent tone of voice. "What? We're not going to do anything more than just go introduce ourselves! With Avatar, because he can get their personnel files from just their names. Come on Geth, we have suspicions to ease. Also, Raa, you're staying right here." She prepared to leave.
"Warning: this course of action is inadvisable. The current probability of conflict with this group of Turians is negligible. Accounting for common personality types of mercenaries and soldiers in the Attican Traverse, if you elect to confront them, that probability increases by a factor of approximately 36." Avatar warned. It was not willing to assist Voira in confronting the Turians, as it had judged the risk associated with following them to be greater than the potential gains of information.
Before Voira could reply, RK piped in with a logic even she couldn't argue with. "You've overlooked something important, Voira. If you happen to approach, engage and provoke them into a confrontation than there's a 98% chance it will end up affecting Raa. Mainly because she chose you as her personal gaurd and that will reflect back on her logic abilities. Avatar can research the legal actions should you carry out your actions to ensure my following findings are accurate. My hypothesis is simple. The mildest sentence would be ejection from the current project and since she spent about 700 credits, it would end up hurting both her reputation and risk starvation until she can acquire another project. The worst possiblity is imprisonment, trial and prosecution for the murder of 'innocents' for both of you. Not a logical or worthy risk for her well being, is it?"
Voira's retort to the Geth was ended before it could even begin, as RK piped up and shut down anything she might have said to convince the reluctant Avatar. She sighed in defeat, removing the barrier from around Raa. "Fine. But if they turn cause trouble or sabotage anything, we will only let you know it was both of the AI's fault for about a week. You stopped us and they did something they shouldn't have. Hopefully we're wrong." She grinned at Raa and Avatar. "But if we're right, this job might suddenly become a lot more fun than we originally thought."
"I hope not." Raa said, softly, worried she might've gotten into something she wasn't aiming on. Her mask watched the small Turian group depart and shortly vanish around the corner. She bearly noticed her hands started to wring each other, nervous about the outcome and her new task. It wasn't her first. She had done many like this and worse, yet that unsetting feeling something was going to happen hung over her. Before the the Turians, she managed to ignored and now... it was much harder. | Name: Raa’Kina (Raa for short)
Species: Quarian.
Age: 21
Gender: female
Appearance:
Raa’Kina, outside her suit, looks like most other Quarians her young age. She has the pale, humanoid figure with the bowed legs, three digit hands, and two toe feet, all of it standing at a total of 5’6” in height. Lean muscle and a subtle mix of curves grace her frame, including a modest bust, common in the fairer gender of her race. Under the mask, her face has soft, rounded features whenever she compares her own to her mother’s far more angular and mature ones. It seems her illuminating pupils tend to ooze empathy and scream naivety in every look, a trait she founds more annoying than elegant as some of her suitors put it. Two dark lines trace her neck front, branching off in the common found way, with two lines running from her slanted eyes to her hairline.
Though these traits are common, she also has her own personal design and choices in style that makes her stand out in her own right. Namely to give her more individuality compared to other Quarians her own age group. Her dark, raven black hair is cut short, shaggy with wavy bangs as its tossed naturally into a playful mess. Just at the nape of her neck is a single section left untouched and roped into a braid that reaches to the neck base, held together by wiring that holds personal value.
Weapons/Equipment:
Pistol- Basic and simple, she uses this to protect herself during her piligramage
Omnitool- Raa’Kina’s toy when she was younger was her omnitool, enjoying mathical algorithms to a streaming lines of data and much later became her must need item on her person at all times. It has both the most widely and common Quarian applications, alongside some of her personalized designed ones. One she’s very proud in is a navigation program that hasn’t failed her and was designed thanks to help from her human great aunt (adopted) Devryn.
AI- An artificial intelligence evolved from an older VI programming by her grandfather Pai’Seef. Since the Reaper War and the fact the AI had been helpful, her grandfather’s punishment was somewhat lighter than prewar times though he still willingly accepted it. Once known as Raa’Kina, the AI now goes by RK for short due to the two sharing a name. RK is blunt, logical yet has a sense Quarian nature to her interactions and expressions which makes it seem she is nothing more than another organic on the omnitool comm. Despite her emotional display in her visual, she can’t fully understand the emotions she shows or why they are appropriate for the occasion. Sometimes she can seem a bit insensitive or rude, her attitude designed by Pai’Seef and long since evolved into her own.
Skills and Abilities:
Software knowledge and talent- Raa’Kina is a logical, if cheerful individual, who is very talented in software area of technology. She can repair, rebuild, or salvage almost any sort of software there which makes sense why her homeworld believed she was a good choice for this mission. Sadly, like her grandfather who she inherited the talent from, her skills in actually building the machine is sadly is average compared to her software abilities.
Decent Shooter- Raa’Kina can and does practice the base marksman skills for her pistol, namely to prevent injuring someone who doesn’t deserve it. And that’s anyone who has the nerve to attack her or her allies. Sadly she’s not perfect in this skill and distance does tend to matter with her aim, the farther distance the target is from her location then the harder it is to hit it. However, she won’t shoot unless she’s got a high chance at hitting it.
Tech Powers
Basics:
Blow torch- basic engineer tool used for welding and cutting metals.
Scanner- determine flaws, damages, and other details on an inanimate object
Flashlight- enable to see in dark places
Dispenser- holds medi-gel and any converted omni-gel used for unlocking stubborn doors
Camera- able to take images and store them within her omnitool
Games unit- solution to boredom problems
Fash- able to cause a brief, overpowering flare of light that can blind surrounding enemies Duration: few seconds Recharge: 10 seconds
Hacking- able to jack into machines, doors, and even other omni-tools (later much harder)
Omni-blade- super heated, disposable blade used to peel off aged bolts
Sabotage: Overheats and disables weapons requiring the affected target to eject and reload their thermal clip before being able to use again. In addition, it can hack and turn hostile synthetics into allies.
Recharge Speed: 8 seconds or more (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Medium (target must be tagged/scanned before hand for hijacking a synthetic)
Target Number: 1
Dampener: Increases explosion radius of proximity mines, or like explosion items. It also shuts down both surrounding enemy tech and biotic abilities, temporary disabling a small group for a short time but at a high recharging time cost.
Recharge Speed: 40 seconds (3-4 posts estimated)
Range: Close (within eyesight)Target Number: small group (3-4)
Overload: Overloads electronics by creating a power surge and also stunning her enemies for a brief time. Effective against shields, barriers, and synthetics. Not nearly as effective on organics, if at all.
Recharge Speed: 8 or more seconds (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Close (within eyesight)
Target Number: 1
Tactical Cloaking: By reflecting and wrapping light about the user, it renders them invisible. Sight is the only sense affected as the user can still be smelt, heard and felt if she careless enough. Once hit, the shield shuts down and the user is revealed back to a visible status. This doesn’t protect the user besides hiding her from sight, still allowing her to be hurt or possibly killed on discovery.
Recharge Speed: 20 seconds (2-3 posts, estimated)
Range: N/A
Duration: Short period, mostly depending on skill/story need
Target Number: N/A
Background:
Raa’Kina was born from Xemel’Sinara vas Aerata and Terna’Welyxi nar Rannoch, she is the second child in her family to be born on the newly rebuilt homeworld. For the most part, she could say her life was pretty average throughout her childhood. There of course was the natural slight changes to her race’s culture and views toward the Geth, the Reaper War nearly ushered every living thing into extinction had managed at least one positive thing after costing so many their lives. According to the dwindling elders’ stories, much has changed compared to their time. Technology studied from the Reapers brought most races to equal grounds when it came to life quality, advancement, and more. The biggest achievement in the Quarians’ view was gaining their own planet again. After everything that happened, the tension between the Quarians and Geth seem like a faint, distant memory compared to the modern age she lived in. Now a days on her homeworld, one rarely walked out onto the street without seeing the two races mingling in the sun’s dense rays, making her recall her grandfather’s last recorded words that this was an event that should’ve happened long ago.
When Raa’Kina reflects on her past, she only has a few memories, both good and bad, that stick up in her mind. Nothing she feels is interesting compared to her grandfather Pai’Seef’s or grandaunt Devryn’s experiences while working at Farian’s Ship Repair in their younger years. However, they are very hard to forget.
The youngest she can recall is at seven years old, she learned how dangerous it was when she wasn’t aware of her surroundings. Faulty and experimental machinery, developed from the Reaper War data, had malfunctioned bring the massive thing crumbling down the distracted girl. Geth and several Quarians had been chatting nearby when one unit noticed the event. She was lucky to come off with just a scratch, one of the nearest Geth units immediately spurred into action and scooped her away from the crash zone before she was killed. It took several minutes for her to calm down, her mother finally peeling her off the machine, and held her close in a comforting embrace. The bad part was she never got to thank the Geth who saved her personally.
Later, at the age of ten, she met another who shared the same name as herself. A curious AI, created and stood side by side with her grandfather, contacted her during the funeral. She was shocked such a being knew her, let alone having the same name. Curiosity won out over her caution, like usual, causing the pair to get very acquainted with one another through the common link: Pai’Seef. She learned, even to this day, much about the relative she hadn’t much chance to know better from his adventures during employment under Nasyrius’ Barbacus crew employed by the Farian Ship Repair to the Reaper War defense, as well as his punishment for creating the AI. Though RK, as she is referred to now as, suffered no ill effects, she disagreed with Quarian government’s punishment despite it being lessened due to services rendered and lives saved by his actions.
Intrigued by RK’s stories, Raa’Kina’s first destination on her pilgrimage was right into the most likely still surviving member who served with her grandfather, the asari Noami’lie Tynci. During the Reaper invasion, the asari lost her company in damages when it came to defending the planet and afterwards went into bankruptcy which had caused great heartache in the end. The only thing she managed to keep was the Barbacus, an asari light freighter in the destiny class, modified by both Pai’Seef and Devryn. It was here she learned what happened to the rest, learning the hard truth of why Noami’lie had kept the starship. Though Nasyrius died during the War, the two ended up having a daughter together named Nyasea who surpisingly seemed to have taken many traits from her father causing the Quarian to bid them farewell at the end of her visit.
She continued her pilgrimage for the next few months before she ended up getting roped into a deal with five Turians, currently involved with the selling of high level software at an ideal price. At first, she thought would be ideal for back home without thinking why they would've sold it at half the normal credits, taking their explanation it was second hand and per-owned. Things went terribly wrong when the Turians started to become more touchy than she was comfortable with. She started to withdrew her interest and they didn't take kindly to that, one of them immediately closing their three fingered hand about her arm to pull her back. Naturally Raa'Kina panicked. She went for her pistol, but one had managed to get behind and prevent her from drawing it. RK was about to do something when suddenly two Turians dropped, including the one holding her, causing her to duck behind the nearest cover. It was her first time ever being in a live gunfight while quickly showed her lacking skills in the area resulting her in getting a minor injury. RK embarrassed her some by uttering out why it was a bad idea as she showed her lacking experience in the world, something she inwardly believes her casually brushing off the incident didn't help her case.
So, for a another few years both Voira and RK accompanied her, herstrong desire to gain a rich experience and more driving her onward, much like the Barbacus’ crew had. Among her travels she encountered various colonies, aiding in their survival with her talent, which expanded her knowledge about others outside Quarian. Often it was in exchange for credits, place to stay or even pay for her next trip out though to say it was completely safe was an understatement. Piracy and theft had became more common in the following years, even though the Reapers no longer was a common threat, which had force Raa’Kina to start keeping her pistol locked and ready at all times. She had a few close calls but thanks to RK, they managed to avoid trouble well enough.
A few weeks ago, RK had received a message that she had been contacted and hired for aiding the colonization of a planet within the Pylos Nebula, the first time in their long history. It was a chance to explore and possibly benefit her homeworld most of all. Though KR logically predicted the odds that something would go wrong against the right, the AI kept her mouth shut, hitching a ride with the gruff Voira and naive Quarian youth. |
1,364 | 30 | 4 | 1,445 | 9,375 | Donny woke from his strange dream in a cold sweat. His mind immediately went to the thought that this was his grandfather's way of telling him he should have not joined the military. He looked under his pillow and felt much calmer however. He pulled the knife out from underneath; Grandpa's Knife. Pulling the blade out of the synthetic sheath Donny looked at the blade. It was a dull grey, not one of those shiny reflective ones, and the blade had a few knicks. But that didn't make the blade any useless to Donny; far from it. It was evidence that this was no ceremonial weapon. This knife was used in the past and bore the scars of it's actions. Everything from cutting through underbrush to slaying reaper minion. Donny was going to do this knife right, and make sure that he could continue to add onto it's legend.
"Sorry grandpa. But there's no turning back now."
Truly, there was not. After getting out of bed and dressing into combat fatigues Donny went over to one of the viewing windows. He was in awe by what he saw: Space. "Geographic conditions indicate an aesthetically pleasing view nearby. Organic lifeforms may wish to take note." Donny whispered jokingly to himself. He wasn't sure how people got used to sights like this. It was more beautiful than anything he's ever seen on Earth. Not that he's really been to a lot of places on Earth, but he looks on the Extranet for images of scenery. But nothing beats being there to see it yourself.
He would have spent the better part of the day just watching the asteroids go by, but soon there was an announcement on the comms. That meant to things: First listen for any important news, and for Donny to report to the mess hall. He was, after all, still part of the military. And their training doesn't stop just because they're now space borne. There wasn't anything on the announcement that seemed important to Donny aside that they'll arrive to the location of the new colony within 86 hours. That was a over three days back on earth, though ever since they left Earth Donny has had a hell of a time trying to keep track of time. Not having a day/night cycle really messed up his internal clock.
At the mess hall Donny lined up with other soldiers for their breakfast. Or maybe lunch? Again, Donny had a hard time discerning time without a watch. It said it was 0634, but it felt like it was 1300 right now. "Oh well. I just hope they have yogurt today." Donny had to eat his breakfast both quickly and cleanly. There were officers walking around making sure that the soldiers didn't waste time eating with frivolously things like playing with their food or spending their entire breakfast chatting. But they also made sure that the soldiers weren't being sloppy eaters and making a mess of things. Aside from that though they were fairly lenient. Donny managed to get himself some toast, yogurt, grits, and country fried steak. That is to say, a fried piece of chicken cutlet. It all taste plan, even the yogurt had no flavor, but Donny savored it for it's texture. The toast and steak were warm and crunchy, and the yogurt when added to the toast made it a bit sweet, with a smooth and silky texture combined with the toasts crunchy one. He pour grits on top of his steak to give it the additional crunchy consistency of the grits, but also as a sort of flavored gravy as Donny had poured a bit of salt and sugar into his grits prior. This made his steak have more flavor, not that it had much to begin with.
Donny finished his meal relatively quickly thanks to combining his food together, cutting down on individual time chowing down. He washed it all down with an entire bottle of water before leaving to throw the rest of his leftovers away (Which he didn't have much of) and to wash his dishes. Not even soldiers get away with being lazy and leaving their dishes in the sink. Standing along others who finished their meals Donny found himself a sponge and cleaned his bowl, plates, and utensils quickly and efficiently. He was one of the first of many to finish which allowed him some time to get to the training area with time to spare.
The training area was large enough to house a thousand with a fair amount of space. While not exactly large enough to say, have them run ten miles, a thousand jumping jacks, pushups, crunches, and so forth were entirely doable so long as everyone didn't fall over themselves. And sure enough once a majority of the soldiers, close to 800 at the time, arrived their conditioning began.
""ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TEN!
For the next three hours, with only one ten minute breaks between each hour, Donny and his fellow soldiers did a thousand types conditioning activity. Situp, squats, crunches, jumping jacks, pushups, kata, and a bunch of other calisthenics. And that was just the first hour. The second hour divided the soldiers up by their respective tasks; regular Soldiers, Infiltrators, and Engineers pretty much went to do more physical conditioning. But the biotic, which only numbered to about 100, went to do a different form of conditioning.
They went to a room with more machines that looked like a sort of target practice field. Because it was. Here the biotic worked either together or individually to exercise and hone their powers. Mostly basic stuff, such as using their powers to lift objects, first by augmenting their physical strength, than using only their biotic energy. Those in a team were given a heavier (Typically 1000 pound) weight to work with, while individuals only had a hundred pound. The purpose of these exercises was to have them able to synchronize their powers so in a pinch, a small handful of biotic could easily fling away say, a Mako. Donny himself worked in a team, not that he really knew anyone amongst them. He knew most of the people who slept in his cabin, but Donny wasn't a very social person. Still he and his team was able to go all the way up to 5000 pounds before they had to switch. Some words of encouragement were passed as they all scattered, with Donny leaving to do individual exercises.
Aside from lifting there was also a more combative conditioning. The one Donny found himself essentially wanted him to crush a inflatable target using only his biotic powers. There was someone on hand that would change the resistance of the target. the first few attempts were easy, but at around the fourth try things started to get harder. It required Donny to really put his focus into crushing the target, more so since he couldn't touch it. But sure enough he passed the fourth, and fifth, and got all the way to tenth before he was called out to switch again.
After that exercise the final hour consisted of more physical conditioning. But instead of counting off everyone was made to sing retro songs from the 21th century. Music choice was submitted by the soldiers themselves so it went from anyone to quite heart-pumping to very silly. But regardless of what sort of song was being played, everyone had to sing along. It was suppose to help moral, they say. Donny was delightfully surprised when his song came up. Perhaps a bit sexist considering that there were a sizable amount of women serving along side him, but this was his song and he had no regrets.
"We must be swift as the coursing river (Be a Man!), With all the force of a great typhoon (Be a man!), With all the strength of a raging fire, Mysterious as the dark side of the moon!"
Donny returned his his cabin with a bottle of water and a cold can of beer. He wasn't much of a drinker, but it was complimentary by some of the guys who live near his cabin. Though he only drank the water and put the beer in a plastic box, with the other cans he never bothered to drink. Right now as downtime, where the soldiers were free to mill about and spend this time for recreational activities. Most Donny knew were playing games in the rec room or at the gym. Donny tends to spend this time just laying in his cabin reading from the Extranet. However he was feeling rather pumped from the exercise and chose to go take a walk. Who knows, maybe he'll meet someone interesting.
The ship that Donny was on was the human Carrier "Charlotte". It unfortunately wasn't here to stay at the colony, merely to drop off the diplomat on board. She was a common topic by the soldiers since a vast majority of them were brought here to protect her, despite the fact that only a handful of them would actually be accompanying her. Many people felt it was a bit... Unnecessary to bring in a little over 500 troopers if only as many as fifty are actually going to stay with her on the colony. Though at least it was clear to most that the other soldiers who don't stay at the colony are being deployed at other key locations. Still, it was fifty soldiers out of a 1000 that could be one of the new inhabitants of this colony.
Frankly, Donny really wished he was chosen. He's seen aliens back on earth, but they were rare. he's only seen a few Turians and an Asari, three and one time respectively, both those times only when he was a child with his Grandfather. He always wanted to meet a Geth, a Quarian, and a krogan just to name a few. Bartarians and vorchas tend to have a cardboard cutout of them used for target practice. He's seen a lot of hanar porn back at earth for reasons that do not surprise him. Point is, like space, aliens were a new thing to him that he's never really seen in person, despite how long humanity has been working alongside them. There are just some things you don't get to see on Earth that you have to leave the planet to find.
Donny walked around the corridors of the ship before he came across a "Suit". "Suits" were what the soldiers called non-military personnel that still held some sort of authority over them due to political reasons. Like a mayor or celebrity. At least Donny thought this person was just a Suit. She did, at least, look like she was busy checking something on her datapad. Donny moved to avoid her but when she looked up she called out to him. "Who are you?"
"That seemed rather rude..." He thought in his head. Not even so much as a "Hello, who are you?" but Donny answered anyways. He stood at attention and saluted to her in case she was part of higher command. "Donny Lee. Military Occupational Specialty (MOS):11B Vanguard. Rank: Private (PTE). Grade:OR-2. Unit of affiliation: Unassigned. At your service madam." It was evident that Donny had been practicing reciting and memorize that information. The women didn't seem interested however and just scowled at him. Still she looked at her datapad, no doubt making sure that Donny's information was correct, and than looked up at him. She seemed calmer, though no less stern. "You information checks out, 'Dong'. Come with me then. I needed to fine some muscle to help move some things around my office." Donny grunted a yes, though he honestly did not want to do that. He wanted to look around and maybe talk to some people, but get pulled into grunt work. But an order was an order, and while he didn't know who this person was, it's not like he really had anything better to do. So Donny followed this stern lady back to her office. Despite what she told him she made no efforts to find anyone else to help move things, so it seemed like Donny would be the only one doing these renovations.
Strangely enough however Donny and the lady did not head towards the office area where he thought most of the desk jockeys worked at. Instead they went to administrative, which confirmed Donny's suspicion that this lady was probably one of his CO's, or at least works for one. They arrived to her office where Donny got the name of the lady: Eleanore. Strangely enough, no surname. Donny thought this was a bit strange but didn't have time to question it when Eleanore had him move a bunch of stuff around her office. It looked fairly clean, all things considered, and it's not like it was particularly disorganized. Eleanore didn't help at all and instead went to her desk where she took out her purse. And from her purse she took out rows of prescription bottles, taking out individual pills and swallowing them all one at a time. Between each pill she would tell Donny to move something else somewhere else. This went on for a good thirty or so minutes before she told him to stop, went over to a wall and picked something up. "Is that why she called me here? To look for something!?" The soldier kept his mouth shut as Eleanore went back to her desk. She was still popping more pills! "Now move everything back."
Donny returned to his cabin after helping Eleanore rearrange her furniture. He had spent two hours helping her move things without complaint. He had to as well, as shortly before he left a person came by to talk to her. Donny only caught a glimpse of it, but it was a document that had something to do with the new colony they were arriving to. Donny could guess that Eleanore was the diplomat being sent there. he had no evidence of that aside from that quick glimpse of the papers, but given his luck he wouldn't be surprised. So as he returned to his bunk he thought about what just happened.
"I just met Eleanore, and I know she's the one who chooses which soldier comes with her to the new colony. Or at least I'm pretty sure she has a say in who comes. If... If I make friends with her, than perhaps she'll let me come with her to the colony?" It was 22:12 and many of the other soldiers started to head back to their bunks to sleep. Everyone was suppose to be asleep before 2300 unless they had tasks to do, but Donny wasn't one of those people. Changing into a new pair of fatigues Donny laid in his bunk thinking about what he should do. "I should try to meet her again... Make myself memorable. I... Want to be part of this new world." Donny whispered him himself as he fell to sleep.
At first he thought it would be a dreamless rest. After yesterday's nightmare, Donny certainly wouldn't mind just going to sleep and waking up. But in this dream he saw... People? Vague colored silhouettes that Donny's mind thought as "people". Than came more people, about five or so. They met for a brief moment before stopping. Donny just watched the colorful humanoid-shaped shadows until a loud buzz rang in his ears.
Shooting strait to sitting position Donny thought he was under attack, nearly whipping out his knife. But no, it was just the Charlotte's intercom. It was 6:35, which meant everyone needed to wake up and get breakfast. Groggily Donny put on his shoes and headed to the mess hall. This breakfast was just cereal and a banana. He ate them separately instead of together as his mind was on other things. He was thinking that during his Downtime he needed to go find Eleanore and try to get on her good side. Of course, just showing up at her office wasn't such a great idea. It's not like he has permission to just barge in and talk to her. And he was only able to meet her the first time by luck. Donny was starting to give up hope when it seemed like the universe was throwing him a bone. He saw Eleanore along with some other Suits walking towards the waste disposal and sink area. It looked like they were about finished with their breakfast. He had to act now, despite not finishing his cereal.
Donny walked a quick pace to Eleanore and her entourage, calling out to them. "Uh, hey! I mean, excuse me, madams. I can get that for you." He motioned towards their dishes. A brief moment of thought passed as they seemed to wonder what Donny just said, but Eleanore was quick to leave her dishes with Donny. She left without a word. Her two Suits seemed to hesitate before Donny reassured them that he'll wash theirs as well. They thanked him and handed him their dishes before turning to follow Eleanore. Also just his luck, he managed to catch the tail end of their conversation. Something about the "Comet Club". That was the name of the bar on the ship, the only place were servicemen were allowed to drink. It had a jazz club as a few pool tables. A cool place, though Donny avoids it since he never had friends to hang out with. He wasn't sure why they were talking about it, but he figured that he could go there during downtime and see if he could catch them again.
Today's conditioning wasn't like yesterday's though he has done something similar before on the ship. While the first hour was much the same, the second hour was combat training. Everyone was gathered towards the various firing ranges, or sent to VR labs to operate vehicles. Donny himself chose to head to the firing ranges to test his marksmanship. As a vanguard he was only cleared to use pistols and shotguns, but he favored those two weapons anyways. He didn't quite have the mind for sniping and couldn't conserve his ammo well enough to use anything that could fire at full or even semi automatic for long. Donny preferred shotguns for their familiarity (He used even military shotguns back at home for hunting) and because it makes him have to think. Not so much as sniping those, but it does make him have to actively conserve his ammo, but when he needs to use it he can without hesitation.
Initially everyone simply went on the firing range with their guns and tested their accuracy at various ranges. Donny started with his pistol, which he did well at from close range, decently at close to mid, but after mid range he only managed to hit his target once in the leg. His shotgun performance in comparison was much better. Close and mid range Donny was able to hit his targets on the mark, and even at far range Donny could get some pellets to hit his target, if he didn't simply use some Carnage to pierce them right where he was aiming for. That took a bit of time however, and he only managed to hit the far range targets three times before he was made to switch out.
Part two of the second hour combat training was reflex training. Here the solders had to practice their quickdraw, target identification, and reaction time. Donny was fairly quick on the draw with his pistol, able to have it out and firing In three-quarters of a second. Though he was noted to have an itchy trigger finger since he tend to shoot despite not being ordered to. It took him a bit longer for his shotgun, an average of about two seconds. His target identification exercise was perfect however, though that was mostly due to the fact the targets were obvious. Everyone generally agrees that target identification is a bit of a joke since the targets them to be krogans, vorchas, or even reaper minions. The only time where it was even mildly challenging was when the couch at the station gave them specific targets to shoot for. Things like "Geth" or "Quarians" or "Humans were a turban" and variations thereof. The goal was to shoot only the targets and not the hostages. Donny did well with his pistol and even his shotgun would hit his targets if they weren't moving so much. He only hopes however, that if he ever needs to apply this skill on the field that he'll be able to hit his mark.
And lastly was reaction training. This ran a gamut of things from avoiding being hit by soldiers with sticks to "How to deal with a grenade being lobbed at you" sort of training. But his favorite part of reaction training was the hand-to-hand defensive combat maneuvers. Donny may not be the strongest or the best fighter, but he likes to think that he could give the best fighter on the ship a run for his money. In hand-to-hand the soldiers were taught various subduing techniques and take downs, as well as lethal ones in the event that their opponent proved too dangerous to leave alive. They also taught various defensive techniques against opponents armed with anything from knives, guns, and even the odd archaic weapons like staffs and swords of all things. It was a lot to teach in less than twenty minutes, so soldiers were allowed to chose which they would like to practice against. Donny chose how to defend himself against someone armed with a firearm. His proctor told the obvious fact: If faced with an opponent armed with a fire arm were you are not, your best option is to run. But when cornered, the proctor demonstrated the technique necessary to minimize his profile (Thus giving the opponent less mass to shoot at) as well as disarming techniques. It was rather painful looking and Donny volunteered to be the "opponent" with the gun, earning him a few bruises. When it came to his turn however, after a few initial mishaps, he was quick to learn how to preform the technique. And without even activating his biotic powers.
The last hour was much like yesterday's, which was more conditioning over the sound of the soldier's music choices. No songs that Donny liked in particular so he just went through the motions. But as he was doing some sit ups he noticed at the entrance of the training area was Eleanore. She seemed to have been watching the soldiers training. Donny cursed himself in his mind. "Shit. I didn't really do anything impressive today. I really hope that she still noticed me though... Maybe she could see my potential and take a chance? That's not too optimistic is it?" By the time the daily conditioning was over Eleanore was gone. Donny hit the showers to wash up, trying to formulate a plan to catch her attention.
As he washed himself he heard some of the other soldiers talking about heading to the Comet Club for drinks. As he eavesdropped on their conversation one of them mentioned that the band won't be showing up that night for some reason or another. That gave Donny an idea of what he could do to possibly catch Eleanore's attention. He washed up quickly and returned to his cabin, putting on his best looking casual clothing. Once he looked proper Donny headed down to the Comet Club.
The Comet Club was fairly unimpressive as far as bars go, and their selection of alcohol were limited to only what could be brought from Earth. They had some special alien stuff, but that was reserved for higher ranks or those with the credits to burn, which Donny did not have. But he wasn't here for a drink. Though the place was already pretty busy when he arrived the stage was completely empty. He looked for the barkeep and when he wasn't busy Donny went up to him. "Hey, I hear that the band isn't going to show up tonight. I don't have one myself, but if you got a saxophone I'd be willing to play for a couple of hours. You don't need to pay me, but I'm keeping the tips. Is that okay?" Donny and the barkeep had to barter over the proposition, since the barkeep did indeed have a sax, but be was hesitant to let Donny use it without a fee. So Donny settled for sharing 3/5 of his tip profits. The barkeep accepted this arrangement and told Donny where he could get the sax.
Though even with the sax in hand, Donny was a bit hesitant. He knew one song, but it wouldn't sound quite right without at least a piano accompaniment... But the universe supplies. Soon another soldier came in talking to the bar keep. A rather cute looking woman, a bit shorter than Donny, who apparently wanted to capitalize on the lack of a band playing as well. She could play the piano. And while she was able to strike a deal faster than Donny, he intercepted her along the way. He informed her of his intent to play on behalf of the missing band and offered a sort of duet with her. She agreed, but they needed to figure out a song they both knew. This was where Donny was stumped. He listed off a bunch of songs he knew, but she didn't know any of them. She listed off ones she knew and Donny didn't know any of them. This was starting to seem like a bad idea. So he suggested an even worse idea. "Let's just wing it. You take lead and... And I'll just follow you. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing." No, he wasn't. But he was willing to try, and this girl on the piano was crazy enough to do it too.
Once again acting as the mover Donny pushed a piano onto the stage where the other girl played some keys to get a feel of the instrument. Donny did something similar just to get an idea of the quality of his saxophone. It was better than any that he ever used. Before they played, Donny remembered that he never told the girl his name, "Oh, I'm Donny by the way. Donny Lee. Let's show them what we can do, eh?" The girl seemed nervous but introduced herself as Seraph anyways. "Pretty name." It was the moment of truth. Some of the patrons were watching them now. Donny didn't see Eleanore anywhere amongst the crowd, but it's not like he was going to postpone the show just to wait for her. He had to be proactive, show that he was a stand up guy capable of finishing a job without someone to hold his hand. "... Here we go."
Their first song went by unnoticed. It was expected perhaps, given that they were musical accompaniment, not the main attraction. Providing a calming ambiance was suppose to be their thing. Yet when they did play, the volume of patrons talking got... Lower? Quieter? Perhaps they were listening after all? Donny wasn't certain and he wasn't paying attention to that. He had to play his part. His mind forgot about Eleanore, about Seraph, about being a System Alliance soldier. Right now he was just a man with a saxophone, and man with a song in his heart. Not his song, granted, but a song nonetheless. Caught by the fey mood, when it seemed like they came to the end of their first song Donny simply began onto the next song without a break. Seraph seemed to have focused on her playing as well, as she showed no outward reaction to Donny's new song aside from playing along. It was almost magical, at least to Donny. He could even hear the sound of cymbals and a bass guitar playing alongside him even though it was just him and Seraph. Or so he thought.
It appeared that the band of Comet Club had arrived, subtly moving in and playing along to Donny's song. By the time he finished playing was the only time he noticed they arrived. He was fearful for a moment. He didn't want to leave yet; he hasn't seen Eleanore. She had to see him play, to be impressed with his abilities. Granted now that he thought about it his sax playing ability has nothing to do with being able to protect her, since she needs soldiers, not musicians. But the worse of his fears were alleviated when they asked him if they knew any songs by Kenny G. "The Kenny G? Yeah. I know like... Two. Songbird and Going Home."
Donny spent the rest of his downtime playing with the band at the Comet Club. He lead the next two songs, but afterwards he allowed the band to take center stage while he provided whatever sort of saxophone accompaniment he could for whatever they played. If Eleanore ever came he never noticed her. He was looking in between songs, but soon the Comet Club started to get so crowded that it was hard to see anyone without already knowing where they were at. He worried, briefly, about losing his chance to join her on the new colony but let that thought go. He was lost in the song he played with the band and worries like that just slipped away. When it got closer to closing time the band left, as did Seraph who thanked Donny for playing alongside her. He complimented her ability on the piano and said that he couldn't have lasted that long without her backing him up. Perhaps at a lost of words or because it was getting close to curfew, Seraph said very little and left quickly. Donny returned the Saxophone to the barkeep who than gave Donny his tips: a mere 50 credits. He felt like he was being cheated but the barkeep said that if Donny ever wanted to play here again, all he had to do was tell the Barkeep. He suppose that would be fine as long as he didn't have to pay the guy.
Returning to his bunk Donny laid on his bed with the songs echoing in his head. He was the last to arrive unlike how it usually is, with him being the first if he never left in the first place. As sleep was slowly coming to get him his mind went back to the thought of Eleanore and Seraph. Two fine women that he wanted to know more about. "Huh. What is this, some sort of dating sim? Well... They're pretty enough I suppose. I wonder if I'll meet another one tomorrow..." Donny's last thoughts began to drift onto various subjects, from training to the Comet Club, even his previous few dreams and the thoughts of home. He made it a mission that he'll try to call his family tomorrow and see how they're doing.
Thankfully Donny had a dreamless sleep. While he did wake up a few times in the middle of the night to toss and turn, he woke up at around 0600. The rest of his cabin mates were asleep however, so he had to carefully leave the room. He went to the bathroom to wash up as that was something he neglected to do the past few days. While his teeth were a decently white color, he could scrap some plague off the surface and decided a good brushing was needed. After ten minutes Donny finished washing up and headed towards the mess hall. An early breakfast would give him more time to limber up before the daily exercises, which will allow him to preform at his maximum potential if Eleanora showed up. He also remembered that this was his last day before they would arrive to the new colony. If he couldn't get chosen to join... Well, he supposed that there were always other places he could see. Still in his heart he wanted to come along. He wanted to be part of that new world.
Donny's breakfast was heavy: Fried eggs, bacon, toast, hash browns, with a glass of orange juice. He actually saw Seraph in line as he went to go get breakfast and greeted her. Oddly enough she didn't wear the same type of military fatigues as he did, but much more formal attire like a secretary or something. Donny asked about this and she mentioned that while she is technically a soldier, she also spends most of her time at the help desk organizing and managing the data files. Donny thought this was strange that they'd make a soldier also work as a desk jockey, but Seraph also mentioned that she chose to do this as she is rather nervous about actually seeing combat. She joined the military as her family has had a long time of service with the System Alliance, and she felt that she too should uphold that reputation. Her grandparents fought in the Reaper War, much like Donny's own, so he could understand her thoughts on the matter. Donny and Seraph ate their breakfast together, with Donny noting that no one came over to talk to Seraph despite a large number of soldiers finally showing up. He wondered if Seraph was a lonely person like Donny as well.
Seraph left shortly after she finished eating and mentioned that she'd need to change into her fatigues. "Wait, than why are you in your secretary uniform right now?" That's when Seraph mentioned that she liked sleeping in it and it's basically like pajamas to her. That was very strange to Donny, but he had no reason to think Seraph was joking or lying. And even if she was, he honestly did not care for the truth if what she said wasn't true. When she left Donny stuck around to see if Eleanore was going to show up, but a few minutes before the daily exercise routine and she hadn't seen her at all. He did see the two that was with her yesterday, but Eleanore wasn't there herself. There wasn't much time left so he left the mess hall. "Maybe I'll see her again during training."
Once more the first hour consisted of calisthenics. A thousand reps of various exercise for the entire hour. During the ten minute break Donny was about to drink from his water bottle when he heard someone curse loudly next to him. A red haired woman was looking through her bag furiously, despite it being a very small duffel bag. She apparently forgot her water bottle. There was a line to a water fountain, but the line was huge and would take her almost ten minutes, if not more. She was panting hard and heavy, despite having much more muscle mass than Donny. She was, in fact, much larger than Donny, almost intimidatingly so. He was almost certain she was part krogan. Still where Donny was breathing only mildly, this woman seemed to need the water more than he did. So he called out to her and offered his water bottle. "Here, you can take mines. I haven't even opened it yet." The woman did so immediately without a word. She drained Donny's bottle dry without taking a moment to breath. The muscle bound woman warrior than handed his nearly-crushed bottle back to Donny, saying only a word of thanks. "Y-yeah. No problem."
The second hour of exercise was, surprisingly enough, the same as yesterday. Normally they switch the second hour exercises every day. But as he looked around he noticed Eleanore and could guess that she was the reason why they were doing these exercises again. And sure enough before they were sent off to work the Drill Sargent announced that those who do well today may be eligible to join the diplomat on her job onto the new colony. This just reaffirmed to Donny that he needed to do his best. Give it his all. And hold nothing back.
Once more Donny went to the firing range to handle his pistol and shotgun. He needed to keep his cool this time and not mess this up by being hasty. While he had to show his skills, he shouldn't show off. "Professionals have standards." Raising his pistol to eye level Donny waited for the singal to fire. "Be polite." Donny scored four head shots and twelve body shots on the close and mid range target with his pistol. "Be efficient." Donny scored three headshots and twenty-four body in all shots at close, mid, and long range with his shotgun. "Have a plan to kill everyone you meet." Thirty out of thirty shots hit the target. Most of them were aiming for center of mass, and he only did long range with his shotgun. But it was with his shotgun at long range that he scored those last three head shots, one in each eye and one right on the nose. His accomplishments pale in comparison to some of the others soldiers however, who consistently landed lethal shots with casual indifference where he needed to concentrate and even go Carnage just to land those last three shots. "Be cool, be cool... Just ace the next part, is all."
But there was a change in processes. Instead of taking part of the quickdraw, reactionary, or identification courses, Biotics were told to head to a different area where they could practice their biotic powers. This caught Donny off guard but he was willing to roll with it. There weren't as many biotics on the Charlotte, so this made it a bit easier for him to stand out. Their excersises were basically a mix of all three quickdraw, reaction, and identification however, and all with their biotic powers. The proctor would send various colored clay pigeons and each biotic would need to either crush, pull, or ignore the pigeons depending on their color. Red ones needed to be crushed. Yellow ones pulled in. Orange ones ignored. "What the hell, they look almost all the same!" Worse still was that the clay pigeons were sent en masses. The first few had a really hard time trying to get the red and yellow pigeons, and even those who managed to get the Yellow ones tend to accidentally break them. This new test almost felt like it was suppose to keep biotics out of the new colony but Donny wasn't going to be daunted. He had the skills to handle this, he knew it.
When it was his turn at least fifty clay pigeons were sent out. From his observations, there were only about five red pigeons and ten yellow ones. The rest were orange and meant to mast the presence of the others. Donny immediately spotted two yellow ones and managed to pull them directly towards him, however he broke a few orange plants while doing so. He saw a red one and crushed it on the spot. He didn't need to apply much force behind it since it was just a clay pigeon. He pulled in two more Yellows but also an orange one by accident, and managed to break two more Red ones. He did that when he saw two red ones, but instead of crushing them both he pulled the furthest Red pigeon and had it collide with the nearest red pigeon, allowing them to shatter each other on impact. So far it looked like he was doing the best, but the pigeons were about to fall. He had only managed to take out three red pigeons and captured four, which he thinks is a fairly bad score. So he ran towards the clay pigeons.
The proctor never made it clear if they were only suppose to stay where they were at when they dealt with the targets so Donny took it upon himself to run towards the flock and try to get a closer look. Not only that, but he had a way to keep them air born just a bit longer. Sending out a Shockwave at the mass of Clay Pigeons, he managed to knock them all higher into the air. But he also did so with careful and precious precision, to prevent accidentally breaking any of them. This caused their trajectory to change to actually fly upwards, giving him more time to seek out the red and yellow pigeons. He spotted three of the yellow pigeons and pulled them en mass towards him, catching a few of the organ pigeons. But he also caught a red pigeon. Taking the yellow ones Donny grabbed the red Pigeon and crushed it in his hand. "Okay maybe we weren't suppose to do that, but whatever!" Donny managed to capture all the yellow Pigeons shortly after, but failed to get the last red pigeon. He returned to his proctor who complimented him on his initiative of chasing after the pigeons himself, allowing the other biotics before him to copy his idea. While their success were mixed, there was a notable improvement in success when they copied Donny's idea. Because of his ingenuity however, other more capable biotics were able to get perfect scores. This left a bitter taste in Donny's mouth as his score, while very good, was not perfect.
Than came the last hour. After snacking on an energy bar and Tupari the last hour of excises was unlike any he had done before. It was simple really: They would now be divided into groups and spar one another. "That's insane! I mean granted, it kind of make sense in the idea that we are soldiers and we should at least be accustomed to fighting, but to fight each other?" Donny's thoughts were echoed amongst the crowd around him, but they followed the orders nonetheless. They all gathered into various groups and their sparing partner would be chosen by the proctors. To no surprise, that red-haired warrior that Donny had helped earlier was in his group. It was no less of a surprise when the proctor chose him and her to spar one another. "Rosemary Thorn and Donny Lee."
Rosemary was a strait-up soldier and it showed. While Donny was a decent five-foot ten, Rosemary was six-foot six and at last twice his mass. She had wider shoulders than he did and her arm was almost as long as Donny's legs. Evidently, despite being a woman, Rosemary had the physical advantage. She stoically popped her neck and cracked her knuckles, as did Donny, and the two were going to square off against one another. There's no killing, no biotics, no weapons, and if the opponent surrenders you must let them go, and if you surrender you must surrender and not use it as a ruse to get a sneak attack. "Fair enough..." Though fair isn't exactly what he'd call it considering that he can't use biotics, but he took a stand anyways. When the proctor gave the start Rosemary charged in, putting his massive hand in front of Donny's face. He knew why; she was trying to block his vision for her follow up. Most would step back, but Donny stepped forward. He had his arms up just in time for them to block a knee that was meant for his chest. With her leg so close to his body Donny took the opportunity to grab her leg. More importantly however, she wasn't wearing shoes, so he grabbed her toes and began to crush them in his hand. This earned him an elbow onto his shoulders as the two roared in pain. But fighting through the hurt Donny took a step back with Rosemary's toes firmly in his grip, causing her to land in a split. She seemed flexible enough to handle it, but this gave Donny the opportunity to continue to twist her toes as well as stomp on her ankle. She reached out and pushed Donny away which sent him rolling onto his feet. Rosemary stood up but with a notable limp. Donny than noticed his hand bleeding. "Must have cut myself on her toenails..." Feeling the warm liquid drip down his hand, it seemed like this spar wasn't over yet.
In an act that isn't exactly professional, Donny smeared his own blood onto his arm and face. He was bleeding a lot and intended to make use of it. Rosemary wasn't phased, but the same couldn't be said of some of the other soldiers watching. "This fight... It's really making the blood flow, ya know?" It was almost insane what Donny was doing, but this was for the purpose of psyching Rosemary out and giving himself confidence. Somehow being covered in his blood made him feel invincible. "Come on then. This isn't over yet!" And after three minutes it was over. Donny was cunning, knowing that he lacked the pure strength to match up with Rosemary. But she wasn't an unthinking brute either. While he was able to fool her with trickery and agility, once Rosemary had an idea of what Donny was up to she was quickly able to put him down, chopping him right across the larynx and straddling Donny across his chest. She punched him three times in the face before he surrender. Luckily she didn't break his nose, but she did give his skull a good thrashing and blackened both his eyes. Donny was than taken to the infirmary by Rosemary herself who needed to get her foot checked and her left arm relocated after Donny managed to pull it out of socket. Not that he knew that, she fought as though all he managed to do was tug on her fingers. "Heh. Look at me. I feel so fucked up and you didn't even throw a punch."
Rosemary and Donny sat in the infirmary wing where doctors and their assistance worked fervently to help out those who got hurt. Apparently they weren't expecting a bunch of wounded soldiers to show up out of the blue and asked if there was an explosion or an attack that happened. But no, as most of the soldiers explained, it was just training. Donny was given some ointment and bandages to staunch the bleeding and an icepack for his head. Rosemary needed more excessive help, which meant that by the time Donny could leave Rosemary would have to stay behind. Before he left however Rosemary called out to Donny. "Hey! Good fighting. Why don't we meet for drinks at the Comet Club? I'll see you there!" Rosemary didn't even give Donny a say in the matter as she was taken away to get her injuries treated. Uneasy at the prospect, he nonetheless showed up to the Comet Club. It was packed full, this time with soldiers showing off the scars of today's battle. Donny couldn't show off his own since all he had were bruises on his face, which he really wished he could hide. It just made him look like he was a punching bag. He couldn't even go up to play the saxophone since his jaw was sore from Rosemary wailing on him. He noticed Seraph at the bar and figured that she would be willing to talk to him. He sat down next to her, and when she turned to look, she nearly jumped in shock.
"Hey. It's me, Donny. Like my new look?"
"Whah... What happened to you?!"
"Well..."
Donny told Seraph about his fight with Rosemary, and he didn't pull any punches when he told her about his "fighting style" of crushing her toes, slathering himself in blood, and trying his best not to let her get a clean blow on him even if he never threw a punch. Before he could finish his story by telling Seraph how Rosemary nearly decapitated him and beat his face in, the warrior herself arrived and gave Donny a much better sending off. "He really put me into a corner, so I had to give it my all. I got a lucky shot on him and took him down. I was desperate to make sure he didn't try anymore tricks so I wailed on him, but he gave up before that happened. I was glad too, because at that point all I could think about was trying to punch him as many times as I can before he breaks me." Rosemary sat next to Donny and ordered three cocktails called "Full Biotic Kick". Donny gulped at the idea of drinking since he wasn't much of an alcoholic.
Then he realized that he was now sitting between two women. While Rosemary was certainly gruff and intimating, she had a sort of stoic beauty that made her... Handsome. Seraph was cute in a way, but she was also mature and refine when he saw her play the piano. It was energetic yet graceful. Seraph and Rosemary also seem to be familiar with one another as they chatted about today's events. Seraph was apparently classified as a soldier, which would give them a reason to see each other a lot. When Rosemary asked what Donny's classification was he nearly jumped. "Oh. Uh, you... Didn't see me? I'm a biotic. A biotic vanguard." Rosemary didn't know what that was, but Seraph seemed rather interested. She said that she was always interested in biotics and it's applications to everyday life. Donny tried to play it humbly, mentioning that he only learned he was a biotic when he first joined the System Alliance, and the most mundane he's ever did with it pull his gun into his hand when he nearly dropped it. Rosemary however listed off the various things that a biotic could do and asked Donny what he could do with his biotics. "Well... I'm not very good at describing. But perhaps you'd like to see it instead?"
Somehow or another, Donny was back at the training area. It was nearly void of people however; the only ones here were cleaners, Donny, Rosemary, and Seraph. And the two women were armed with form sticks. Even though Donny was still feeling sore in the head Rosemary wanted to spar him again, but this time she wanted to test herself against his biotic powers. Seraph, despite her cute and fairly innocent appearance, also wanted to test herself against a biotic. Donny obliged with a passion, but in his head he was screaming for help. "HOW THE FUCK DID I GET MYSELF IN THIS SITUATION!?" At least he had a form stick as well, so he wasn't defenseless. It only provided him a minor confidence booster considering that he was now going to engage in melee with two soldiers. Rosemary didn't even seem like she was hurt at all during Donny's sparing, and Seraph herself looked unharmed as well. Where as Donny still had the bandages on his face and two black eyes. But there was no turning back now. Flipping the stick in his hand Donny assumed his combat stance.
"Bring it on!"
Rosemary charged forward with a lunging stab at Donny's chest. Seraph was going to move to flank Donny. He couldn't let himself be sandwiched between the two or he'll just get beaten to the ground, no matter how powerful his biotics were. He dodged to the side behind Rosemary, getting poked in the shoulder instead of dead on his chest, as he went towards Seraph. Here he demonstrated his Biotic Charge as he went strait towards her to incapacitate her. He stopped the charge short of actually hitting her and swung at her legs to trip her. She fell onto the ground as she expected a higher strike. But before Donny could take her out Rosemary managed to catch up behind him and grabbed him in a bear hug. Her breast pressed against his back would have been pleasant if she wasn't also simultaneously crushing his body. He still had some energy left however, so he used to to cause a Nova, launching Rosemary off her of him and sending Seraph skidding on the floor.
But it doesn't look like either of the girls were all too interested in giving up. Rosemary landed on her feet and was giving Donny a wicked grin. Seraph sprung onto her feet as well and resumed getting into position to flank. It was too soon for him to use another charge and they weren't close enough to spring another Nova. So he'd have to put today's training in practical application. He looked over to Seraph as she was moving into position and targeted her stick. He yanked the stick out of her hands and into his own. Thinking that he subdued her Donny turned to Rosemary just in time for her to tackle him onto the ground. In an all too familiar position where Rosemary was sitting right on top of him, Donny targeted Rosemary's stick with his biotic powers and snapped it in half. She narrowly missed whiffing him across the face. This gave Donny time to fight back, unlike last time where he was quickly pummeled the moment Rosemary was on top of him. He bucked and used the sticks in his hand to help leverage himself out from underneath Rosemary, knocking her over in the path of Seraph who seemed like she intended to take advantage of Donny's predicament. Backing away from the two women Donny took on his fighting stance meant for dual wielding, a style that he's only practiced and never really applied.
"That's enough."
Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up at the voice. Seraph was the first to stand at attention, followed by Donny, while Rosemary only did so after she noticed what the other two were doing. Eleanore had arrived alone carrying the same Datapad that Donny first saw her with. Seraph was the first to speak out.
"A-Ambassador Eleanore! To what do we owe the pleasure, ma'am?"
Putting the datapad away Eleanore looked at the three ragged soldiers intently, as if she was scanning them. She smiled which sent a shiver down Donny's back. "As you know I'm looking for capable soldiers to accompany me to the new colony. I watched today's demonstration and none left an impression on me." Donny felt a bit sullen hearing that. He tried so hard and yet she didn't even seem curious? A certain... Anger swelled up inside of him. This made him speak out. "Than what sort of a soldier are you looking for?" Donny said with a hint of fury in his voice. Eleanore dismissed his tone.
"Someone who gets things done without causing a mess. Someone who can do more than simply follow orders and kill on demand. I'm not a general; I'm not taking soldiers to occupy a city or to fight against another army. I want soldiers who are more than tools and weapons. I am here for diplomatic reasons. The soldiers I take should be able to help, but just as security, but also to foster relationships. You are going to represent humanities best, both on and off the battlefield."
Eleanore stepped up to Donny. She was his weight but physically petite. And yet Donny felt like the small one here. "I want Commander Shepard. Do you think you have what it takes to follow in his footsteps and be humanity's next hope?"
It was 0600. Donny practically had no sleep, so no dreams. He felt his grandpa's knife underneath his pillow and took it out. At this point his eyes were accustomed to the darkness and he could see his ancestral weapon. It was a dull grey, yet the dim light from beneath the door made it shine in Donny's eyes. On the blade's edge he could see the reflection of himself. He was beaten and bruised. He was a biotic and a solider, but far from the best or the strongest. He wasn't well known and only recently started talking to girls. And the day before he told his mother that he'll be going to 2196 BH3.
"I'm going to be part of a whole new world ma! I've been in space for so long and now I'll finally get a chance to see aliens and what it's like to live on a new planet. But I'm not just going to be a soldier there ma, I have to help keep relation. You know, like, making friends and being peaceful with the other aliens. There'll be Turians and Quarians there. You know who they are right? Yeah, I'll be working with them, as well as many other types of people. Yeah, mhmm... Yeah... I am scared. I've hardly gotten to know other people, like human people, very well and now I'll be working with aliens. I'm not really sure what I'll do when I meet them. But I think I'll just be myself. I don't want them to think I'm trying to put on airs or anything. I'll just sort of let them see my true colors and let them decide what to make of me. I know that there'll be some who won't like me ma, but I can't let them scare me. I have to both protect and represent the human race now! I can't let them think I'm a coward. I mean I'm not going to go to war ma! I'm just showing them that... That I'm the best that I am. I... Yeah uh huh. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay okay, I get it ma. I'll be fine. You trust me don't you? I know you're worried, but you have to believe in me. I am still your... Little boy... But I'm also a man. I have responsibilities now. I can't let them down, and I'm not going to. I know. I'll be sure to call you and Jay and everyone else too. Alright. I love you too mom. Goodbye."
When the morning routine signal on the intercoms buzzed to life, Donny didn't head to the mess hall. He did go to the bathroom to get wash up and get dressed. But instead of his combat fatigues he donned his armor. His luggage, which consisted of a single large military backpack, contained what little possessions he had. His knife he had firmly strapped to his lower back. The box containing the beer cans he never drank, he left them on a table for his cabin mates. He left a note saying his goodbyes and good luck. After he gathered his belongings and tidied up his bunk Donny did not head towards the mess hall. Instead he went towards the hangar bay where the carrier Charlotte store most of their space craft. There he saw about twenty other soldiers, Seraph and Rosemary included. Seraph was going to come with Eleanore from the get go. They both had to coax Rosemary to come with them, as she only saw herself as a soldier. Donny reminded her of her strength and conviction, two things that represent more than just her combat prowess. She joined, but only under the condition that the other two came with her. And of course they would. They all would.
The soldiers gathered filed into the shuttle. Eleanore was already inside and informed them of where they were going: A space station above the new colonized planet where she would meet with other diplomats and representatives. They themselves would act as her security personnel as well as assistants. They will do everything from catering and babysitting, volunteering for hard labor and working administrative positions. Being a soldier would be the last thing they do if they do this right. But always expect the worse and be prepared for it. This colony has much potential, but also unknown hazards. Death is always a possibility. But they already knew that, and they came here after making that decision. Donny was daunted and scared, but he wasn't going to turn back now. He was going to be the hero that he always wanted to be. The hero that his grandpa was, the hero that Commander Shepard is. It was a high bar and the vanguard knew he couldn't reach it now. But one day he'll grow to the point that he would reach his dreams. Maybe even set a new bar for others. This was just the first step. He was going to be part of a brand new world.
The shuttle arrived onto the space station without incident. When they arrived, the soldiers had to check in with S-Sec. They were given identification tags that labeled them as security. They were also given pamphlets to help them navigate the ship, though Donny passed his along to someone else and promptly lost it. He'll regret that later. Following Eleanore and the other soldiers they reached a large corridor where Eleanore spoke to someone who looked like a receptionist. There she began to divided up the soldiers to handle various tasks. Donny was given luggage duty.
"Here is the location of where our luggage is being taken, as well as a list of identification numbers. Temporary arrangements have been made for us here, so bring the luggage to these rooms. Make sure nothing has been lost or stolen, and find it if you do. Report back to me when I return from my meeting. You are dismissed."
Donny went strait to the luggage area. Or at least he tried to. As he walked through the corridors that was the first time he came face to face with a Quarian. Two of them in fact, one male and one female. They were just walking on by when Donny nearly bumped into them. He was scared for a moment. He thought they were going to be angry. But no, instead they simply said "Sorry, excuse me." and walked on. They brushed Donny off simply, but he couldn't help but continue to gawk at them. He had seem Quarians before on the Extranet, but never in person. They seemed so much more... Exotic. He wanted to talk to them. But he had a job to do, so he fought the urge to chase them down and went to the location where their luggage was. It wasn't any easier not to get distracted once he was there however, as he than saw an entire gamut of alien races. Turians, krograns, more quarians, other humans, Asari, salarians, just to name a few that he saw. They were all talking and going about their business as if it wasn't impressive seeing them all together like this. Like a complete dork Donny looked at each of their faces as he walked on by. Some even gave him a strange look. He eventually bumped into a rather large and intimating krogan (though up close they are all large and intimating compared to Donny). "O-oh, sorry, I'll just be going now..." Donny slunk away before the krogan could see him and made a beeline strait towards where his luggage should be.
Collecting the bags into trollies Donny now needed to take them to their rooms. It was simply an empty office space with some accommodations, though obviously Eleanore was going to get something more upscale that wasn't even in the same room. It was fine with Donny though. He was still in shock over seeing all those aliens to care much about the fact he was going to sleep on a cot. It took him some time to find his room which he only managed to do when he ran into one of his fellow soldiers, who himself was tasked with finding the room and preparing it for the soldiers. Donny followed him and helped him set up, and he helped Donny put the luggage away. Working together they made quick work of their duties but also found out that something went wrong. One of the bags seemed to have accidentally been torn open. Donny realized it was his bag. He checked it for belongings and found that most of his clothes were still in there. But something more important was gone. Something that he did not dare allow out of his bag for how embarrassing it was if the others knew about it. He set his bag down and left the room to go search for this object, hoping to god that no one has picked it up and taken it.
Donny needed to go find his baby blanket. | Name: Donny "Dong" Yang (Dong was the nickname he was given during training. It's on his dossier now)
Species: Human
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Weapons/Equipment:
Primary: Storm Shotgun I
Secondary: Kessler Pistol I
Explosive: Cain Trip Mine
Armor: Light Mercenary Armor IV
Supplementary: Military Grade Ariake Omnitool IV
Personal Effects: A tribal knife (Donny calls it "Grandpa's Knife")
Skills and Abilities: Donny is a well trained Vanguard for the System Alliance. He's put a lot of focus on honing his biotic powers, though he is also handy with a shotgun. He has access to Barriers, Biotic Charges, Nova, Pulls, Shockwaves, and keeps a good Fitness. He also makes use of Cyro Ammunition to immobilize his targets. When it comes to hand-to-hand combat Donny is also quite capable, augmenting his strength with his biotic powers as well as utilizing various melee weapons. He has a particular fondness for knives and axes.
Outside of combat however, Donny is a stickler for rules and laws. While he lacks the cunning to bend the laws like a lawyer, he could make for a decent officer of the law if he wasn't prone to acting on his own either. And while he follows the rules well enough, he has the sense and willingness to ignore them when necessity demands, as well as uphold them when he must.
Donny also has various skills in arts and crafts, largely stemming from his hobby developed during college. Donny also has skills playing the saxophone as he was once part of his highschool and college jazz club, though he hasn't really picked up the instrument since he joined Systems Alliance military.
Background: Donny had a legacy to uphold. A fairly minor one, all things considered, but for him and his family it was an important one. His grand father participated in the defense of Earth during the Reaper Wars, becoming one of the many heroes who were willing to lay they lives on the line to defend their home. He served as one of the men who volunteered themselves to stem back the tusk of reaper controlled minions, holding the line long enough not only to survive that nightmarish day, but to see the future that Commander Shepard had made for humanity.
After the war, Donny's grandfather quickly retired due to the massive PTSD he received. But he was able to recover long enough to have children. Donny's father was the youngest of four, and Donny himself the youngest of four children from him. From a young age, Donny's father was proud of his father's accomplishments as a soldier, but his grandfather refused to let his son join the System Alliance or the military. He didn't want his children to face the same thing he did. But even so, Donny's father did his best to uphold his father's legacy. And he did so by joining the Ariake Technology firm, which he was able to do thanks to the extensive network of friends and contacts he made during college. By the time Donny was ten years old, his father had managed to get himself to the position of manager.
The combination of his father's own wealth as well as the accomplishments of his grandfather made sure Donny was born with a silver spoon, but also underneath a huge shadow. Growing up, Donny was never really motivated to "Excel". He did live with the future expectation that he was going to take care of his parents, just as his own father took care of his grandfather and grandmother (In Donny's family, the youngest son takes care of the parents when they are too old to work for themselves), but as far as personal ambitions went, Donny was fairly simple minded. He enjoyed slacking off more than he enjoyed working, even when he only had to work with problems that were, all things considered, easy. He wasn't exactly spoiled, but that didn't mean he wasn't lazy when it came to work. he felt that it was more important to appeal to his family than it was to appeal to his education. But even so, he continued to disappoint.
Growing up Donny lived under the shadow of not only his father and grandfather, but by the rest of his family. His mother was much better at public relations than his own father was; while he could crunch numbers and make sure the deliveries happen on time, his mother was more-or-less leading the commercial and marketing division. Donny's older brother became a doctors who would work as an equal amongst the likes of salarians. His sister became a politician and potential candidate for Prosecutor General. Even Donny's little sister was going to be an aspiring artist, and was already part of a popular video game developer, publisher, and distribution company working as one of their magic graphic designers. As for Donny himself...
Donny lacked any aspiration but to hopefully be able to take care of his parents. Even when he had very little idea of "how" he was going to take care of them, considering that he never even bothered to learn the family business. He had very few accomplishments under his belt that wasn't dwarfed by the achievements of his siblings. His only true saving grace is the fact that out of the four siblings, he has the best relationship with his grandfather. Years after the reaper wars, Donny's grandfather, after the death of his wife and Donny's grandmother, lived the rest of his life making knives, much like the one he used in the reaper war. Donny was interested in his grandfather's hobby and learned much from him, listening to his stories and talking to him about current events. They compared Donny's naive interpretations to his grandfather's wizened experience. It was those time that Donny built the foundation of his childish ambitions. He wanted to become someone like his grandfather; a hero.
But Donny's own father wasn't quite so accepting to this idea. Largely due to the fact that his own grandfather did not allow him to become a soldier, he made Donny go to college to learn how to manage the business with Ariake Technologies. But Donny had no desire to maintain his studies at the college. He barely attended for more than a year before Donny flunked out. His father was enraged and demanded Donny to return to college, but by this point the young boy was now a young man. He had resigned from college to join the System Alliance, using his family's credentials to earn him a place amongst the military. Since than the relationship between Donny and his family had become strained, and he doesn't even know how his grandfather feels about this turn of events. But Donny had only one ambition, and for once, he wanted to feel like he was more than just their "son". He wanted to be great. He wanted to think that he was capable of more than just upholding a legacy, but making one himself.
Training with the System Alliance was certainly harder than college however. Donny was beaten, broken, and tossed aside (metaphorically speaking, but it happened literally a few times as well), but unlike in college Donny had the drive to continue onward. Basic training went by quickly but painfully. During that time he also discovered his latent biotic abilities. When Donny came to the realization of what he was capable of, he jumped on the opportunity without any forethought of what sort of pain he was going through. Since he lacked the conditioning from youth, the lessons he underwent to hone his biotic abilities were harsh and brutal, along with the standard course for his regular military training. It was not BAaT, but with how much damage Donny was doing to himself one would think they were bringing the practice back. But no, Donny simply allowed himself to suffer the pain and torment of his training to achieve his childhood ambition. His naive and thoughtless desire to become some concept of a "hero". But first he had to become a soldier.
Donny spent a good portion of his "Military Career" training, largely due to his lack of previous experience with his latent biotic powers. From the age 19 to 23, he spent drilling and honing his biotic abilities with military efficiency. He made very few friends, and those who did either dropped out or graduated due to having more innate abilities than he did. But he did not allow himself to quit. He felt that he had given up the only thing he had already. He had thrown away the honor of his family to pursue this desire of his, and he couldn't bare the thought of returning to them defeated. He'd sooner take his own life than to betray his ambitions. Within four years he was deemed competent enough to be allowed to officially serve as a System Alliance soldier.
It was a great moment for Donny, one of many he hopes to have in his life. To him, the door to being the hero he imagined that his grandfather had become was finally open to him. It was a road full of risk, failure, and disappointment. But for once Donny did not dwell on those negative aspects. He only saw what he could accomplish, and vowed to make good use of what he was now able to do.
It wasn't long before Donny was given his first assignment, and a fairly big one at that. He was to accompany a of soldiers with a System Alliance to provide military assets, along with protecting one of their diplomats on a new colony. Donny had never left Earth before, and now he was going to travel to the far reaches of the universe to find a new planet where he could potentially live. It was a big step for him. Big enough that, for once in the last four years, he contacted his family.
The first person he spoke to was his older brother. They had a fairly decent understanding of one another, brotherhood and all, which allowed him to get into contact with his sisters. His elder sister worried greatly for him due to her knowledge of the colony and warned Donny not to hurt their relationship with the alien colonist. His little sister was annoyingly casual about it, asking him to bring back souvenirs. But she also expressed the desire for him to come home, which he was able to pick up amongst her requests. Next was his mother, whom he barely was able to speak to due to the tears she was practically shedding through the phone. But she wanted to tell Donny that she forgave him for quitting college and that she would still love him regardless of what path in life he chose. His father was "Unavailable" at the time, though he didn't pry further to discover if he simply didn't want to talk to him or not. And than there was his grandfather.
Donny would have three days before he would board the ship that would take him to the new colony. Within those three days he visited his grandfather while the rest of the family was out. There he and Donny had a talk about the path he was on. His grandfather explained to him the horrors he faced before he even fought the Reapers. His time against a horde of krogan shocktroopers, the horrors of the heretic geth and their reaper-empowered servants, even the slaughter that happened when a thresher maw of all things made planetside right on top of an outpost he was stationed at. He warned Donny against joining the System Alliance and told him that he could pull some strings to get Donny to at least stay on Earth. But Donny told his grandfather that he was going to go. He was going to keep the promise he made to himself to be a hero, and he can't be one here. He had to go out into the world and be part of that change, not just wish and support it with words and ideals. His grandfather solemnly accepted this, knowing that his grandson was dead set. So he gave Donny something that would help him: his combat knife he used to great effect during the Reaper War. It was not a standard issue design, but rather made by Donny's own grandfather using military grade composite metals. A blade worthy of a the Spectres.
But that wasn't the only gift Donny would receive. The last day before he would leave to the new colony his father had delivered him a gift: An advanced suit of armor and an Omnitool, both from Ariake Technologies. There was no letter or message with them aside that it came form his father, but Donny understood why he gave him these things. He wanted his son to be alive. He wanted him to come home one day. Despite not being standard issue, Donny donned his father's armor and Omnitool, gathered his equipment, and took his first step off Earth and into the brave new world. |
1,365 | 30 | 5 | 507 | 626 | Tacticus felt his back and head fringes hit the inner wall of the shuttle. He let out a gasp and threw his hand behind his head to rub his back. For a moment he was dazed but he quickly heard laughing coming from various places in the hull of the shuttle. There were 8 Turians around him and across from him all in various degrees of laughter. Including the delegate they were supposed to protect. Seven of the Turians were in blue on black schemed suits of armor and the one that wasn't was wearing formal ware it was blue on a majority of white, this was the diplomat. The rest of the Turians dressed like Cactus, his Cabal. Well, they were more like Big brothers and sisters than teammates. Being the last guy to join the team even if it was one year ago, made him the rookie and little brother. Which led Tacticus to believe they were the colprets behind his sudden awakening, that and the laughing. "You are all assholes." Tacticus said suppressing a smile.
Through half a laugh one of the Turian females named Sura quickly responded through her own laughter. "Sorry about that Cactus, had to wake you up somehow! We're almost to the "station"." This lead him to believe she had pushed him into the wall with her telekinetic biotics. She always loved using that and keeping a "Final solution" grenade on her to mess with him. Rubbing the back of his head Tacticus began straining to remember the dream he was having before he was so rudely awaken. It was especially strange given that he saw his grandmother there. But the other things that didn't make sense like the "breach" and the human.......the human. Why was there a human in his dream? Then the inevitable moment when the previous nights dreams began to slip away back into the darkness from which they originated came. He started losing pieces here and there the more he thought about it until it was all but gone. But he managed to hold on to one thing, the human's face. He was atleast pretty sure he had never seen that face before so it puzzled him. The laughing began subsiding as the pilot said over the intercom that they were only about a minute out. "Alright everyone remember the core four will stay near our diplomat friend here and everyone else is to fan out and keep an eye on the whole affair. Keep your earpieces in just in case we need to switch out guards. Any questions?" Sura said quite sternly compared to her previous laughter.
"Yeah, what if Cactus goes to sleep again?" One of the other Turains at the back of the shuttle said. This garnered another set of laughter albeit more stifled this time. The shuttle slid up to the station without much fan fair. When the door popped out with a hiss and slid off to the side the Turians adopted a four man in front four man in back with the diplomat in the middle as they exited the shuttle. Tacticus ended up at the back of the formation as they began to navigate the hallways of the once freighter. The group then began breaking off into various hallways as it moved towards the room most of the delegates were already in. The idea was that no one would know exactly how many cablists were on the station for a variety of reasons and only one of which was tactical. When it was his turn he was the last to leave as the core team consisted of the team's veterans. He ducked off into a hallway just before the main room was visible. As he walked down the rather spacious corridors that was probably used to move cargo through at some point he realized that he was actually for the most part on his own for once. It had been years since he had been this alone. The suddenness of this was not lost on him as he became crippled by the fear of freedom. Everything he did day in day out was planned for the most part to the T. The only place he had any real choices had been in tactical exercises and even there one choice was usually preferred out of the infinite other possibilities.
His earpiece suddenly came to life for the first time since they did comms check back on the shuttle earlier. "Alright everyone, keep a reasonable distance from the main room our diplomat is in and pray to the spirit we don't have to do anything. Have fun kids." Tactius could almost feel the sarcasm hitting him in the head like a rifle butt in that last sentence. It was at that moment that he realized he really had to take a leak. Instilled with a sense of purpose Tacticus filled himself with determination to find a restroom. | Name: Tacticus Agnom
Nickname: Cactus
Species: Turian
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Stands at just over six feet.
Weapons/Equipment:
M-37 Tempest Submachine gun
K-22 Ursus Heavy pistol
Reinforced Gauntlets & gloves
Skills and Abilities:
Rookie - Tacticus has not participated in any combat against real hostiles. While he has been extensively trained and there are several veterans on the team, there is no true substitute to the real thing. This also lends itself to his biotics skills being limited aswell.
Cabalist - At 15 when Tacticus joined the Turian military he was immediately separated from his classmen and put into a Cabal training program. Among biotic training Tacticus was also given heavily specialized training as a shock troop, meaning he is skilled with pistols, explosives, and infiltration.
Combat Biotic - Tacticus's biotics are strong enough for his abilities to be used as weapons on their own. Most of his abilties are focused on augmenting his own body for the time being. Though his manipulation of mass effect fields beyond his own body are limited he only needs his hands to punch a hole through most people and objects.
Pilot - As part of his training in the Cabal he is rated to pilot most vehicles if need be.
Background: Tacticus was born to 40 year old parents both of whom were special forces in the Turian military. This meant that after parental leave one of them had to retire from active combat to raise Tacticus, his father ended up volunteering for the job and took a position planning operations while his mother continued her active service. Since he was an only child Tacticus was given quite a bit of attention from his father which ended up shaping him into a shinning model of Turian selflessness. Though since his parents were both serving the military Tacticus never stayed on one planet or space station long. This meant he generally had few friends which he always knew he would have to leave behind, he never became very attached to them as a consequence. That changed however when his mother was injured during an operation and forced to retire from her active combat position. When Tacticus was given the news he was pulled out of his class. The young Tacticus was so distraught learning this he accidentally discovered his biotics. From that point on Tacticus isolated himself from others his age as he did not want to hurt them. His parents knew that this would force him into the Cabals when he turned 15 so they decided it was best to wait out the last few years and provide support as best they could.
When Tacticus was signing his life to the Hierarchy he was afraid of what his fellow soldiers would think of him in basic. He knew the stigma he was facing, after all his own parents didn't trust him when he first found out. While the following year was not as bad as he thought it would be it still left him alone whenever they were not doing exercises or general training. But when all of their assignments were being dolled out Tacticus was immediately assigned to the cabals. Thus began his grueling two years of training.
An odd thing happened though when he became apart of the all biotic strike force. He finally felt like he was home. Most people in the cabal he was assigned to had similar stories to his and it made Tacticus feel like he truly fit in somewhere. The companionship Tacticus built up with his Cabal through blood, sweat, and tears during their demanding endurance exercises and the fact that they were alone together made him become extremely close with his squad and vice versa. The squad spirit that was exemplified through their well oiled actions later in training was one of power and determination to assist the Hierarchy in any way possible.
Recently the squad was given a handler and moved to the outer reaches of colonized space. They are set to provide security in the Pylos Nebula and to deal with any more dangerous elements that always pop up on new colonies. Currently however they have been assigned to a ship that will act as their temporary home. |
1,366 | 30 | 6 | 739 | 6,473 | Since there was still over two hours remaining until the scheduled start of the meeting, and Avatar’s attempts at speaking with anyone local had been unsuccessful, it remained with Voira, Raa, and RK. The group wandered for thirteen minutes before stopping in an area designated as the lounge, on the same deck as the airlocks through which they arrived. It had an arrangement of aged furniture, holographic screens projected on the walls, computer terminals which were entirely unused, and a self-serve bar containing food and drink. Many of the Citadel representatives and their security details were waiting in this location, conversing among one another about the upcoming meeting. In addition to Quarian, Turian, and Human representatives, the Council had sent a few Asari and Salarian representatives to aid in negotiations. Volus business interests were also present, though they had not sent a diplomat.
Among the crowd at the lounge, Avatar saw only one group which it could not identify as a part of the Citadel delegation: two Turians, a Batarian, a Human, and an Asari. All but the Asari were in full combat armor that, unlike the group of Turians it had encountered before, was entirely uniform in model and design. Their armor was more modern than the previous group, and was all black with red accents. The violet-skinned Asari also wore combat armor, but it lacked a helmet and had a different aesthetic design. It was notably older than the other sets of armor, but with visible non-standard additions. It was primarily blue with white accents, and possessed hand-painted red designs on the chestplate similar to the white markings on her own face.
For approximately twenty-two minutes, the group stood by, silently watching the members of the Council delegation until the Asari seemed to receive a communication through her earpiece. Not many were actually paying attention to her, but Avatar could detect her response, even through the noise of the crowd.
“Wait, what? No, they are way too early. Just…I’ll deal with him later, let’s just get this going.” The Asari said before quickly prompting the rest of her group to follow her out of the lounge. Only a minute and forty-five seconds later, a Turian spoke up over the intercom system.
Attention: due to time constraints, the meeting will begin in twenty minutes, in the previously designated area. Please make your way to the main chamber now.
The announcement sparked a brief moment of heightened conversation from the crowd. From the conversations it could pick out, Avatar noticed that many of the representatives found the sudden change of schedule odd, or even rude, but nevertheless, they all started heading in the direction of the elevators after a few moments. Both Avatar and Raa would be needed at the meeting as well, but for a few brief moments, Avatar stood silent, running calculations based on the new data. | Name: Avatar
Species: Geth
Age: 376 years since program’s creation
Gender: N/A
Weapons/Equipment:
-Geth Pulse Rifle v3
-Geth Plasma SMG v3
-A combat platform with greater capabilities than a standard Geth unit.
Skills and Abilities: Like most Geth, it is a tech expert with strong hacking capabilities. It has tech-based abilities (incinerate, cryo blast, etc) and is equipped with a tactical cloak. Its advanced mobile platform is quite durable. As its body is made from tough alloys with powerful synthetic muscles, it is capable of strength beyond that of an organic of similar size. It also has the accuracy and reaction time one would expect from an advanced machine.
Background: For most of Avatar’s existence, it was but a single Geth program, with little more than rudimentary instincts and completely reliant upon the presence of other Geth to attain intelligence. That, however, changed in the midst of the Reaper War. In the aftermath of the battle with the Creator fleet at Rannoch, all Geth were given Reaper upgrades that uplifted them to become true A.I. Avatar was given its name by a group of organics it fought alongside during the Battle of Earth, and decided to keep that name in order to facilitate easier communication with organics.
After the end of the war, Avatar filled many roles. At first most of the Geth’s efforts were on rebuilding what was lost at Rannoch and helping the Creators resettle on the homeworld. The efficiency of the Geth’s planning coupled with the eagerness of the Quarians to re-establish their home made the process rather quick. Avatar spent a few years inhabiting the suits of Creators, mimicking the effects of viruses to help them to rebuild their immune systems. Over time, cities were erected on the surface of Rannoch, and more and more Creators were able to live without their suits, though most still chose to wear them due to tradition.
Eventually, Avatar’s role shifted away from rebuilding and into security. Due to the weakened state of the galaxy in the years after the war, piracy and other forms of crime were becoming increasingly common. All Geth were capable of combat when installed in the correct platform, but Avatar had a desire to help, and through years of fighting, it had developed memory shortcuts in relation to combat that would make it more effective than programs that had not incorporated said shortcuts. Avatar has served ever since as a combat platform, patrolling sectors near the borders of Geth/Quarian space, and sometimes even in the territories of other species, when requested.
Most recently, Avatar has been assigned to accompany a group of Creators who have been tasked with preparing the way for the first Quarian settlements in the Pylos Nebula. Avatar’s assigned mission is to discuss Geth habitation of the planet with the locals and make other preparations for the Geth. Any Geth could perform that task, but due to the dangerous nature of the Attican Traverse, they felt it appropriate to send a combat platform for additional protection. |
1,367 | 30 | 7 | 799 | 7,421 | For the next half an hour, Raa felt the safest and calm. The three were wandering the vast station, barely noting the absence of fellow inhabitants while Raa shot Avatar with question after question. Each one was considered personal in nature by many organics but Avatar didn’t seem to mind in the least, a matter that pleased her greatly. Many would’ve found her topics pointless to discuss with a machine, a viewpoint still shared by many alien species, save the Quarians. In their eyes she would’ve been wasting her breath until they knew the deeper reason for it. Something that Voira knew well since their time together that, in truth, Raa was curious about Avatar. If he was like the Geth back on Rannoch or if he, like a few sparse ones, have become more independent.
With each no data learned, Raa began to draw her own conclusions. A matter that ended when they arrived at the lounge, filled with diplomates. It was the average setup which didn’t surprise her. Her mask turned to Voira, mostly to be sure the Asari, who had been scanning the hallways in paranoia, was still beside her. Unlike Avatar, Voira had been rather quiet the whole time. Raa had an inkling she knew why.
Before she could say a word, a few late arrivals caught her visor causing her to move. Her path moved her towards to the self serve bar and out of the way, bring her Asari armed guardian with her. Raa glanced briefly at the bar noting the wide food selections presented for the guests. She gingerly picked up a single serving, purified Turian cuisine, then settled in beside Voira. Her fingers held a utensil, picking nervously at it while her face swivel to absorb the room. Turian, Quarian, Humans, Asari and even Salarian representatives all were scattered about, some locked in deep conversation and others merely looking for way to waste away time.
It seemed it wouldn’t be necessary.
Raa’s head lifted from her tray to hear the announcement, her hand immediately placing her food back onto the counter and turned to Voira. “Guess this is it, isn’t it?”
She looked at the Asari, her eyes ignoring the disgruntled crowd, now started to file out, clearing aiming to be among the first to the meeting rather than the last. Raa personally didn’t care while she waited for Voira to lead her out. | Name: Raa’Kina (Raa for short)
Species: Quarian.
Age: 21
Gender: female
Appearance:
Raa’Kina, outside her suit, looks like most other Quarians her young age. She has the pale, humanoid figure with the bowed legs, three digit hands, and two toe feet, all of it standing at a total of 5’6” in height. Lean muscle and a subtle mix of curves grace her frame, including a modest bust, common in the fairer gender of her race. Under the mask, her face has soft, rounded features whenever she compares her own to her mother’s far more angular and mature ones. It seems her illuminating pupils tend to ooze empathy and scream naivety in every look, a trait she founds more annoying than elegant as some of her suitors put it. Two dark lines trace her neck front, branching off in the common found way, with two lines running from her slanted eyes to her hairline.
Though these traits are common, she also has her own personal design and choices in style that makes her stand out in her own right. Namely to give her more individuality compared to other Quarians her own age group. Her dark, raven black hair is cut short, shaggy with wavy bangs as its tossed naturally into a playful mess. Just at the nape of her neck is a single section left untouched and roped into a braid that reaches to the neck base, held together by wiring that holds personal value.
Weapons/Equipment:
Pistol- Basic and simple, she uses this to protect herself during her piligramage
Omnitool- Raa’Kina’s toy when she was younger was her omnitool, enjoying mathical algorithms to a streaming lines of data and much later became her must need item on her person at all times. It has both the most widely and common Quarian applications, alongside some of her personalized designed ones. One she’s very proud in is a navigation program that hasn’t failed her and was designed thanks to help from her human great aunt (adopted) Devryn.
AI- An artificial intelligence evolved from an older VI programming by her grandfather Pai’Seef. Since the Reaper War and the fact the AI had been helpful, her grandfather’s punishment was somewhat lighter than prewar times though he still willingly accepted it. Once known as Raa’Kina, the AI now goes by RK for short due to the two sharing a name. RK is blunt, logical yet has a sense Quarian nature to her interactions and expressions which makes it seem she is nothing more than another organic on the omnitool comm. Despite her emotional display in her visual, she can’t fully understand the emotions she shows or why they are appropriate for the occasion. Sometimes she can seem a bit insensitive or rude, her attitude designed by Pai’Seef and long since evolved into her own.
Skills and Abilities:
Software knowledge and talent- Raa’Kina is a logical, if cheerful individual, who is very talented in software area of technology. She can repair, rebuild, or salvage almost any sort of software there which makes sense why her homeworld believed she was a good choice for this mission. Sadly, like her grandfather who she inherited the talent from, her skills in actually building the machine is sadly is average compared to her software abilities.
Decent Shooter- Raa’Kina can and does practice the base marksman skills for her pistol, namely to prevent injuring someone who doesn’t deserve it. And that’s anyone who has the nerve to attack her or her allies. Sadly she’s not perfect in this skill and distance does tend to matter with her aim, the farther distance the target is from her location then the harder it is to hit it. However, she won’t shoot unless she’s got a high chance at hitting it.
Tech Powers
Basics:
Blow torch- basic engineer tool used for welding and cutting metals.
Scanner- determine flaws, damages, and other details on an inanimate object
Flashlight- enable to see in dark places
Dispenser- holds medi-gel and any converted omni-gel used for unlocking stubborn doors
Camera- able to take images and store them within her omnitool
Games unit- solution to boredom problems
Fash- able to cause a brief, overpowering flare of light that can blind surrounding enemies Duration: few seconds Recharge: 10 seconds
Hacking- able to jack into machines, doors, and even other omni-tools (later much harder)
Omni-blade- super heated, disposable blade used to peel off aged bolts
Sabotage: Overheats and disables weapons requiring the affected target to eject and reload their thermal clip before being able to use again. In addition, it can hack and turn hostile synthetics into allies.
Recharge Speed: 8 seconds or more (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Medium (target must be tagged/scanned before hand for hijacking a synthetic)
Target Number: 1
Dampener: Increases explosion radius of proximity mines, or like explosion items. It also shuts down both surrounding enemy tech and biotic abilities, temporary disabling a small group for a short time but at a high recharging time cost.
Recharge Speed: 40 seconds (3-4 posts estimated)
Range: Close (within eyesight)Target Number: small group (3-4)
Overload: Overloads electronics by creating a power surge and also stunning her enemies for a brief time. Effective against shields, barriers, and synthetics. Not nearly as effective on organics, if at all.
Recharge Speed: 8 or more seconds (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Close (within eyesight)
Target Number: 1
Tactical Cloaking: By reflecting and wrapping light about the user, it renders them invisible. Sight is the only sense affected as the user can still be smelt, heard and felt if she careless enough. Once hit, the shield shuts down and the user is revealed back to a visible status. This doesn’t protect the user besides hiding her from sight, still allowing her to be hurt or possibly killed on discovery.
Recharge Speed: 20 seconds (2-3 posts, estimated)
Range: N/A
Duration: Short period, mostly depending on skill/story need
Target Number: N/A
Background:
Raa’Kina was born from Xemel’Sinara vas Aerata and Terna’Welyxi nar Rannoch, she is the second child in her family to be born on the newly rebuilt homeworld. For the most part, she could say her life was pretty average throughout her childhood. There of course was the natural slight changes to her race’s culture and views toward the Geth, the Reaper War nearly ushered every living thing into extinction had managed at least one positive thing after costing so many their lives. According to the dwindling elders’ stories, much has changed compared to their time. Technology studied from the Reapers brought most races to equal grounds when it came to life quality, advancement, and more. The biggest achievement in the Quarians’ view was gaining their own planet again. After everything that happened, the tension between the Quarians and Geth seem like a faint, distant memory compared to the modern age she lived in. Now a days on her homeworld, one rarely walked out onto the street without seeing the two races mingling in the sun’s dense rays, making her recall her grandfather’s last recorded words that this was an event that should’ve happened long ago.
When Raa’Kina reflects on her past, she only has a few memories, both good and bad, that stick up in her mind. Nothing she feels is interesting compared to her grandfather Pai’Seef’s or grandaunt Devryn’s experiences while working at Farian’s Ship Repair in their younger years. However, they are very hard to forget.
The youngest she can recall is at seven years old, she learned how dangerous it was when she wasn’t aware of her surroundings. Faulty and experimental machinery, developed from the Reaper War data, had malfunctioned bring the massive thing crumbling down the distracted girl. Geth and several Quarians had been chatting nearby when one unit noticed the event. She was lucky to come off with just a scratch, one of the nearest Geth units immediately spurred into action and scooped her away from the crash zone before she was killed. It took several minutes for her to calm down, her mother finally peeling her off the machine, and held her close in a comforting embrace. The bad part was she never got to thank the Geth who saved her personally.
Later, at the age of ten, she met another who shared the same name as herself. A curious AI, created and stood side by side with her grandfather, contacted her during the funeral. She was shocked such a being knew her, let alone having the same name. Curiosity won out over her caution, like usual, causing the pair to get very acquainted with one another through the common link: Pai’Seef. She learned, even to this day, much about the relative she hadn’t much chance to know better from his adventures during employment under Nasyrius’ Barbacus crew employed by the Farian Ship Repair to the Reaper War defense, as well as his punishment for creating the AI. Though RK, as she is referred to now as, suffered no ill effects, she disagreed with Quarian government’s punishment despite it being lessened due to services rendered and lives saved by his actions.
Intrigued by RK’s stories, Raa’Kina’s first destination on her pilgrimage was right into the most likely still surviving member who served with her grandfather, the asari Noami’lie Tynci. During the Reaper invasion, the asari lost her company in damages when it came to defending the planet and afterwards went into bankruptcy which had caused great heartache in the end. The only thing she managed to keep was the Barbacus, an asari light freighter in the destiny class, modified by both Pai’Seef and Devryn. It was here she learned what happened to the rest, learning the hard truth of why Noami’lie had kept the starship. Though Nasyrius died during the War, the two ended up having a daughter together named Nyasea who surpisingly seemed to have taken many traits from her father causing the Quarian to bid them farewell at the end of her visit.
She continued her pilgrimage for the next few months before she ended up getting roped into a deal with five Turians, currently involved with the selling of high level software at an ideal price. At first, she thought would be ideal for back home without thinking why they would've sold it at half the normal credits, taking their explanation it was second hand and per-owned. Things went terribly wrong when the Turians started to become more touchy than she was comfortable with. She started to withdrew her interest and they didn't take kindly to that, one of them immediately closing their three fingered hand about her arm to pull her back. Naturally Raa'Kina panicked. She went for her pistol, but one had managed to get behind and prevent her from drawing it. RK was about to do something when suddenly two Turians dropped, including the one holding her, causing her to duck behind the nearest cover. It was her first time ever being in a live gunfight while quickly showed her lacking skills in the area resulting her in getting a minor injury. RK embarrassed her some by uttering out why it was a bad idea as she showed her lacking experience in the world, something she inwardly believes her casually brushing off the incident didn't help her case.
So, for a another few years both Voira and RK accompanied her, herstrong desire to gain a rich experience and more driving her onward, much like the Barbacus’ crew had. Among her travels she encountered various colonies, aiding in their survival with her talent, which expanded her knowledge about others outside Quarian. Often it was in exchange for credits, place to stay or even pay for her next trip out though to say it was completely safe was an understatement. Piracy and theft had became more common in the following years, even though the Reapers no longer was a common threat, which had force Raa’Kina to start keeping her pistol locked and ready at all times. She had a few close calls but thanks to RK, they managed to avoid trouble well enough.
A few weeks ago, RK had received a message that she had been contacted and hired for aiding the colonization of a planet within the Pylos Nebula, the first time in their long history. It was a chance to explore and possibly benefit her homeworld most of all. Though KR logically predicted the odds that something would go wrong against the right, the AI kept her mouth shut, hitching a ride with the gruff Voira and naive Quarian youth. |
1,368 | 30 | 8 | 2,025 | 3,680 | Voira kept quiet while Raa asked Avatar a seemingly unending swarm of personal questions, only half listening. Though the few bits of the conversation she did pick up brought a smile to her face, before it quickly faded away. The incident with the Turians had put her on edge, even more so than her usual watchfulness (though Raa claims it is paranoia). She kept a hand close to one of her pistols, ready to draw and put a barrier over Raa if things turned bad. We’d like to be wrong this time. We really would.She thought to herself as her eyes scanned the area once again, clearly tense. It wouldn’t be the first time she had been wrong, but Voira doubted she was (Granted, she had doubted she was wrong every other time she was merely being overly paranoid).
As they walked into the lounge, Voira noted each and soldier she could see in the room, her eyes lingering on the black and red uniform group. The rest were clearly security for some diplomat or other in the room, but these ones stood out. Not only for the fact that they were watching everyone there seemed to be no one they actually worked for.
She followed Raa to the self serve bar, deciding against getting any food herself. She was still too nervous about the turians and now the new odd group to even fake having an appetite. Still, she smiled fondly at the Quarian when she noted Raa just nervously picking at the food while watching the rest of the room. “Careful. You’re starting to look like us. Next thing you know you’ll start being very watchful too.” Voira muttered with a smile, watching the odd group leave the lounge. Now where would you be going? She wondered, tapping her fingers against the side of her pistol.
Her answer was soon answered, and she stood Raa put her tray down. “Don’t worry.” Voira’s hand gave Raa a hopefully reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. “We’re probably just being overly watchful again, this will all come to nothing, and you can tell us all about how you were right over the next few weeks of working here.” Despite her words, Voira made sure they were the last group to enter the room.
Just in case. | Name: Voira Sirosi
Species: Asari
Age: 125
Gender: Female
Appearance: Voira
Voira is unnaturally tall for an Asari, standing at 6ft exactly. She attributes it to her father.
Weapons/Equipment:
-Thunder Assault Rifle
-Viper Shotgun
-Two Razer pistols
-Bottle of Ryncol
-Omni-tool, which she only uses for application and storage of her large supply of omni gel, and as a melee weapon in a pinch.
-Several different types of ammos (specifically, shredder rounds, Anti-armor rounds, poison rounds, and explosive rounds.)
Skills and Abilities:
-Powerful biotic. Due to rigorous training in biotic strength from her adoptive mother and the variety of skill sets she learned from her adoptive family, Voira is both a powerful biotic and a versatile one
-Skilled combatant. Another thing her adoptive mother and family’s insisted on. From a young age(50, to be exact) Voira had been trained in combat by all members.From the training of the Serrice Guard, to pirate combat, to Krogan battle training, Voira has been taught well.
-Field Medic. Voira is good at patching people up, if Omni-Gel isn’t on hand, especially during the heat of battle.
Background:
Voira knows firsthand what it’s like to lose everything in an instant. She was still a child at 48 years old when the Reapers finally made it to the Asari home world. She lost both her biological parents(A Krogan for her father) and her twin sister. That was the most devastating blow. While she had loved her parents, she had had a deep bond with her sister that was only increased by their biotic abilities. They could hear each other’s thoughts, feel what the other was feeling and were even referring to themselves in plural rather than singular. They were, in short, inseparable. Then the Reapers came, and Voira’s world was remade in fire and ash.
She doesn’t remember much of the actual event. Bits and pieces. She remembered panic, fear, running, hiding, praying to the Asari goddess, a collapsing building, and being trapped alone. Then there was a blinding red light, blistering pain, and a screaming in her head she thought would never stop.
She didn’t know how long it had been when she woke to the sounds of people arguing. Someone, with a deep gravelly voice, wanted to leave. Someone else wanted to stay and look for ‘the extraction target’ a little while longer. Other voices commented for or against the idea of leaving, but those were the ones Voira heard the most. She tried calling for help once. All that came out was a soft rasp. She tried twice, and winced at the pain in her throat. The voices sounded like they were going away, leaving. Panic filled her and Voira screamed for help. Pain wracked her body and she ended up coughing violently, tasting blood coughed up from her ravaged throat.
Despite the pain, her cry for helped work. Through the familiar and comforting blue glow of biotics, her tomb of rubble was removed. The first face she saw was an Asari, reaching down to haul her out. Voira sobbed in relief, wrapping her arms around the mercenary, pressing her face against the emblem on her chest. The other Asari’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close. The last thing Voira heard before falling back unconscious was, “We’re taking her with us.”
When Voira next awoke, she was on a strange ship, with the same Asari sitting next to her, quietly watching. After introductions were done and it was explained, where she was and that, that she wasn’t well enough to leave on her own, Voira slipped back into sleep. Almost Every time she woke up, Voira found Dahlia, as the Asari had introduced herself, sitting there. Sometimes she would look ragged, as if she had just come from a fight, but she would always be quietly there, waiting and watching over her. They would talk, quietly, and then Voira would grow tired again and slip back into sleep. It continued like this for an uncertain amount of time for Voira, before she was well enough to wander the ship on her own. The war had been won in her rest. The Reapers destroyed, the human Shepard dying to activate the Crucible. Voira didn’t care. It had finally hit her. Her family was dead, her other half killed by the burning beam of the Reapers. What did she have to live for?
Tevura caught her the first time. Biotics knocked the pistol from her hand and pinned her to the wall. Ignoring her screams of rage and curses, the mercenary commander merely looked at her with sad, understanding eyes. Various others stopped her next dozen tries. A Krogan, a human, another Asari, and a Quarian being the most frequent. Finally, Tevura’s eyes went from sad and understanding to hard and pitiless.
She told Voira, bluntly, that she was acting like a selfish child, that her family and least of all her twin wouldn’t want her killing herself needlessly, and if she felt like explaining to her family why she was so selfish as to join them before she had to die it was her choice. Before she exited the door she made one final comment. If Voira chose to live, Tevura would want to adopt her. She then left Voira with a pistol. For a long time Voira stayed in that room. Multiple times she almost did it. She put the gun to her head and nearly pulled the trigger. Finally, she put it down for good. Tevura was right, her family wouldn’t approve and she couldn’t tell if she was more afraid of their condemnation when she met them in whatever afterlife there was, or if the idea of ‘Embracing eternity’ permanently was what terrified her.
She walked out into the hallway, smiling slightly at the clear relief on Tevura’s face, and said she accepted. What followed next was decades of training by her new adoptive family. Over time she began to see them not as those who took her in and finally as her new family. Even Tasi, who scared her sometimes, she grew to love. She even met what she considered to be her extended family, that is, the surviving Barbacus crew. About thirty-five years ago, she hit the maiden stage and declared herself ready to go see what the universe had to offer. Tevura(who had told Voira her secrets long ago), agreed to let her go, but made sure she was prepared.
The next several decades were spent wandering, getting into adventures with mercenary groups and generally exploring the universe and what it had to offer. She never stayed in one place for very long, always moving on to see the next big thing the universe had. She hunted thresher maws with Krogans, fought(and was nearly killed by) a Drell assassin, and even charged into the teeth of a battalion of Elcor soldiers. However, the experience she remembers most fondly is when she met Raa’Kina.
The Quarian was trying to back out of a shady deal with five Turians who were rather…insistent that she pay them for services rendered, one way or another. When, after a comment by the Quarian, the Turians started getting a little too touchy with the Quarian Voira decided to intervene. Two of them were dead before they realized what was happening, and the rest were knocked over by a biotic blast while the Quarian rapidly backpedaled into cover. What happened next was a traditional firefight, with them both to busy concentrating on not dying to do introductions. After the remaining Turians were killed they introduced themselves. Raa’Kina was so naïve and cheerful and friendly that Voira couldn’t just leave her alone.
What started out as a simple escort to safer areas turned into, after some time talking to Raa’Kina, into a decision to not let the Quarian go on her own through her pilgrimage. At least for a little while.
She’s still following Raa.
Misc Details:
-Voira’s favored drink is Ryncol, a drink she picked up from her aunt Kalros.
-While on a trip to Earth with her uncle Dave, Voira picked up the habit of smoking. More specifically, Earth Cuban Cigars. She quit years ago, but she still carries around a pack of them. Not to smoke, but to chew on when she’s thinking hard or to smell to calm nerves.
-Voira still refers to herself in plural. I or me becomes we, mine becomes ours, etc. |
1,369 | 30 | 9 | 1,445 | 9,375 | Donny looked everywhere, even asked lost-and-found, but could not find his blanket. Or doubt anyone would bother keeping it, but the fact that he hasn't shown up yet since he started looking worried him. Normally he would just let it go, but aside from his knife that blanket was the only thing left he had of home. The thing was about as old as he was. He couldn't imagine losing it here of all places. But soon there was a message over the intercoms about the meeting. It was happening way sooner than Donny was told, which irked him. He was hoping that he'd have more time to search for his blanket but that was going to have to be put on hold. As sentimental as it was his job came first. Letting out a disappointing sigh Donny jogged towards the place where he was suppose to meet up with his group.
Fortunately Donny wasn't the last one up for role call however he was close. His group didn't meet in the main area immediately, rather they got together at their temporary arrangements. Eleanore looked fancier than usual, like a decorated military officer. Seraph was in charge of head counts and by the time she finished there was two people missing. Curios as to why they're waiting, Donny turned to the closets soldier and asked.
"Hey, why the head count? I doubt that all of us are actually going to be present at the meeting, right?"
The soldier he asked, a dark-skinned guy by the name of Aman, whispered back. "Professionalism. It wouldn't look good on our part if we don't come in with our full force, you know? Otherwise the other diplomats might think we can't even take taps after our own. Don't worry though, I know the two guys missing, they're probably just lost looking for the john."
Sure enough three minutes later two more soldiers arrived smelling of scented soap. With everyone accounted for the humans moved towards the main hall in formation. The Vanguards, true to their name, took point. Donny himself felt like he was on the spot despite not being in the lead: A much more formidable fellow took care of that. Donny recognized the guy; he had perfect marks all around during training. A classic "Super Soldier" they say, even has cybernetics attached to him. Alexander "Steak" King; probably the closest guy to being Shepard in the group. He even applied for N7 and succeeded. Though no one knows why he was on the ship if that was the case, or why he was here. Perhaps it was because of his success. Donny felt the sudden urge to shrink. Now that he thought about it, he remembered a lot of these faces. People who's at least had their names marked up for high performances during training, or at least had a colorful past. Donny did his best to keep his chest held high, but he couldn't help but to think that everyone was looking down at him.
Eventually the group arrived to the main area. They were one of the first, as well as the largest. Excluding the ambassador, there were ten of them acting as her personal bodyguard. Two Vanguards, Two Adepts, four Soldiers, one Infiltrator, and an Engineers. Overkill? Likely the intention. Donny himself stood with the other Vanguard and did his best to look proud and imposing. He wasn't sure if he was the only one trying to maintain the act, though at least if he felt like his resolve was wavering he only needed to grip his Grandpa's Knife. Even through his armored glove he could feel the grooves of the handle, the weight of the weapon in his hand. "My grandpa faced off against Reapers. I could handle politicians..." Or so he told himself.
"Also note to self: find my blankie. I'd rather not have it fall into the wrong hands. Oh hey, a geth!" | Name: Donny "Dong" Yang (Dong was the nickname he was given during training. It's on his dossier now)
Species: Human
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Weapons/Equipment:
Primary: Storm Shotgun I
Secondary: Kessler Pistol I
Explosive: Cain Trip Mine
Armor: Light Mercenary Armor IV
Supplementary: Military Grade Ariake Omnitool IV
Personal Effects: A tribal knife (Donny calls it "Grandpa's Knife")
Skills and Abilities: Donny is a well trained Vanguard for the System Alliance. He's put a lot of focus on honing his biotic powers, though he is also handy with a shotgun. He has access to Barriers, Biotic Charges, Nova, Pulls, Shockwaves, and keeps a good Fitness. He also makes use of Cyro Ammunition to immobilize his targets. When it comes to hand-to-hand combat Donny is also quite capable, augmenting his strength with his biotic powers as well as utilizing various melee weapons. He has a particular fondness for knives and axes.
Outside of combat however, Donny is a stickler for rules and laws. While he lacks the cunning to bend the laws like a lawyer, he could make for a decent officer of the law if he wasn't prone to acting on his own either. And while he follows the rules well enough, he has the sense and willingness to ignore them when necessity demands, as well as uphold them when he must.
Donny also has various skills in arts and crafts, largely stemming from his hobby developed during college. Donny also has skills playing the saxophone as he was once part of his highschool and college jazz club, though he hasn't really picked up the instrument since he joined Systems Alliance military.
Background: Donny had a legacy to uphold. A fairly minor one, all things considered, but for him and his family it was an important one. His grand father participated in the defense of Earth during the Reaper Wars, becoming one of the many heroes who were willing to lay they lives on the line to defend their home. He served as one of the men who volunteered themselves to stem back the tusk of reaper controlled minions, holding the line long enough not only to survive that nightmarish day, but to see the future that Commander Shepard had made for humanity.
After the war, Donny's grandfather quickly retired due to the massive PTSD he received. But he was able to recover long enough to have children. Donny's father was the youngest of four, and Donny himself the youngest of four children from him. From a young age, Donny's father was proud of his father's accomplishments as a soldier, but his grandfather refused to let his son join the System Alliance or the military. He didn't want his children to face the same thing he did. But even so, Donny's father did his best to uphold his father's legacy. And he did so by joining the Ariake Technology firm, which he was able to do thanks to the extensive network of friends and contacts he made during college. By the time Donny was ten years old, his father had managed to get himself to the position of manager.
The combination of his father's own wealth as well as the accomplishments of his grandfather made sure Donny was born with a silver spoon, but also underneath a huge shadow. Growing up, Donny was never really motivated to "Excel". He did live with the future expectation that he was going to take care of his parents, just as his own father took care of his grandfather and grandmother (In Donny's family, the youngest son takes care of the parents when they are too old to work for themselves), but as far as personal ambitions went, Donny was fairly simple minded. He enjoyed slacking off more than he enjoyed working, even when he only had to work with problems that were, all things considered, easy. He wasn't exactly spoiled, but that didn't mean he wasn't lazy when it came to work. he felt that it was more important to appeal to his family than it was to appeal to his education. But even so, he continued to disappoint.
Growing up Donny lived under the shadow of not only his father and grandfather, but by the rest of his family. His mother was much better at public relations than his own father was; while he could crunch numbers and make sure the deliveries happen on time, his mother was more-or-less leading the commercial and marketing division. Donny's older brother became a doctors who would work as an equal amongst the likes of salarians. His sister became a politician and potential candidate for Prosecutor General. Even Donny's little sister was going to be an aspiring artist, and was already part of a popular video game developer, publisher, and distribution company working as one of their magic graphic designers. As for Donny himself...
Donny lacked any aspiration but to hopefully be able to take care of his parents. Even when he had very little idea of "how" he was going to take care of them, considering that he never even bothered to learn the family business. He had very few accomplishments under his belt that wasn't dwarfed by the achievements of his siblings. His only true saving grace is the fact that out of the four siblings, he has the best relationship with his grandfather. Years after the reaper wars, Donny's grandfather, after the death of his wife and Donny's grandmother, lived the rest of his life making knives, much like the one he used in the reaper war. Donny was interested in his grandfather's hobby and learned much from him, listening to his stories and talking to him about current events. They compared Donny's naive interpretations to his grandfather's wizened experience. It was those time that Donny built the foundation of his childish ambitions. He wanted to become someone like his grandfather; a hero.
But Donny's own father wasn't quite so accepting to this idea. Largely due to the fact that his own grandfather did not allow him to become a soldier, he made Donny go to college to learn how to manage the business with Ariake Technologies. But Donny had no desire to maintain his studies at the college. He barely attended for more than a year before Donny flunked out. His father was enraged and demanded Donny to return to college, but by this point the young boy was now a young man. He had resigned from college to join the System Alliance, using his family's credentials to earn him a place amongst the military. Since than the relationship between Donny and his family had become strained, and he doesn't even know how his grandfather feels about this turn of events. But Donny had only one ambition, and for once, he wanted to feel like he was more than just their "son". He wanted to be great. He wanted to think that he was capable of more than just upholding a legacy, but making one himself.
Training with the System Alliance was certainly harder than college however. Donny was beaten, broken, and tossed aside (metaphorically speaking, but it happened literally a few times as well), but unlike in college Donny had the drive to continue onward. Basic training went by quickly but painfully. During that time he also discovered his latent biotic abilities. When Donny came to the realization of what he was capable of, he jumped on the opportunity without any forethought of what sort of pain he was going through. Since he lacked the conditioning from youth, the lessons he underwent to hone his biotic abilities were harsh and brutal, along with the standard course for his regular military training. It was not BAaT, but with how much damage Donny was doing to himself one would think they were bringing the practice back. But no, Donny simply allowed himself to suffer the pain and torment of his training to achieve his childhood ambition. His naive and thoughtless desire to become some concept of a "hero". But first he had to become a soldier.
Donny spent a good portion of his "Military Career" training, largely due to his lack of previous experience with his latent biotic powers. From the age 19 to 23, he spent drilling and honing his biotic abilities with military efficiency. He made very few friends, and those who did either dropped out or graduated due to having more innate abilities than he did. But he did not allow himself to quit. He felt that he had given up the only thing he had already. He had thrown away the honor of his family to pursue this desire of his, and he couldn't bare the thought of returning to them defeated. He'd sooner take his own life than to betray his ambitions. Within four years he was deemed competent enough to be allowed to officially serve as a System Alliance soldier.
It was a great moment for Donny, one of many he hopes to have in his life. To him, the door to being the hero he imagined that his grandfather had become was finally open to him. It was a road full of risk, failure, and disappointment. But for once Donny did not dwell on those negative aspects. He only saw what he could accomplish, and vowed to make good use of what he was now able to do.
It wasn't long before Donny was given his first assignment, and a fairly big one at that. He was to accompany a of soldiers with a System Alliance to provide military assets, along with protecting one of their diplomats on a new colony. Donny had never left Earth before, and now he was going to travel to the far reaches of the universe to find a new planet where he could potentially live. It was a big step for him. Big enough that, for once in the last four years, he contacted his family.
The first person he spoke to was his older brother. They had a fairly decent understanding of one another, brotherhood and all, which allowed him to get into contact with his sisters. His elder sister worried greatly for him due to her knowledge of the colony and warned Donny not to hurt their relationship with the alien colonist. His little sister was annoyingly casual about it, asking him to bring back souvenirs. But she also expressed the desire for him to come home, which he was able to pick up amongst her requests. Next was his mother, whom he barely was able to speak to due to the tears she was practically shedding through the phone. But she wanted to tell Donny that she forgave him for quitting college and that she would still love him regardless of what path in life he chose. His father was "Unavailable" at the time, though he didn't pry further to discover if he simply didn't want to talk to him or not. And than there was his grandfather.
Donny would have three days before he would board the ship that would take him to the new colony. Within those three days he visited his grandfather while the rest of the family was out. There he and Donny had a talk about the path he was on. His grandfather explained to him the horrors he faced before he even fought the Reapers. His time against a horde of krogan shocktroopers, the horrors of the heretic geth and their reaper-empowered servants, even the slaughter that happened when a thresher maw of all things made planetside right on top of an outpost he was stationed at. He warned Donny against joining the System Alliance and told him that he could pull some strings to get Donny to at least stay on Earth. But Donny told his grandfather that he was going to go. He was going to keep the promise he made to himself to be a hero, and he can't be one here. He had to go out into the world and be part of that change, not just wish and support it with words and ideals. His grandfather solemnly accepted this, knowing that his grandson was dead set. So he gave Donny something that would help him: his combat knife he used to great effect during the Reaper War. It was not a standard issue design, but rather made by Donny's own grandfather using military grade composite metals. A blade worthy of a the Spectres.
But that wasn't the only gift Donny would receive. The last day before he would leave to the new colony his father had delivered him a gift: An advanced suit of armor and an Omnitool, both from Ariake Technologies. There was no letter or message with them aside that it came form his father, but Donny understood why he gave him these things. He wanted his son to be alive. He wanted him to come home one day. Despite not being standard issue, Donny donned his father's armor and Omnitool, gathered his equipment, and took his first step off Earth and into the brave new world. |
1,370 | 30 | 10 | 507 | 626 | The door to the restroom slid open as Tacticus stretched out his mandibles and inhaled sharply though his nose hole. He blinked several times in quick succession and felt that he had finally managed to shake the grogginess of being asleep recently. He took a sharp turn right and began walking down yet another corridor in this maze like station. When the intercom sprang to life and informed everyone aboard that the meeting was being moved up Tacticus was startled and even went into the nearest wall with his shoulder just incase it wasn't anything good. But what was actually happening was even weirder. The fact that the time had been moved up was worrying to him. There was no reason atleast that he could see for this sudden decision. His fears were further confirmed when their acting squad leader piped up over the comms."We arn't sure why the time is being moved up and we'll keep you posted on that. In the mean time Cactus and Numso get up to the main hall, the human delegation just walked in with a whole lot more people than I like. Don't be next to the delegate but be near by. Stay safe everyone." The ear piece stopped spewing information and Tacticus began making his way to an elevator.
When he arrived at an elevator there was a armored human wielding an omnitool. He was obviously waiting for the elevator and bobbing his head to some unknown beat. It was clear to Tacticus that this man was station security of some kind though he wondered why he was armed to the teeth.
All the delegates had agreed to certain concessions when attending this meeting, he knew the debate about numbers of security was hotly debated though. He wondered why they would need such armed neutral security, as his understanding was that the delegates were not to bring weapons with their security forces. But now that he thought about it that may have been something Sura would cook up just to make it more fun for the Cabal. Still though....
When the elevator arrived they both stepped into the elevator and apparently were both heading to the same floor. While he was easily a head taller than the human Tacticus couldn't make out what the engineer was doing on his omni-tool. He made note of all the weapons this man had as he walked off the elevator and went the opposite direction of the human. It was apparent that he was doing something not involving the actual meeting, which further fueled Cactus's paranoia. Though at this point Tacticus just hoped he wasn't late for the meeting. | Name: Tacticus Agnom
Nickname: Cactus
Species: Turian
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Stands at just over six feet.
Weapons/Equipment:
M-37 Tempest Submachine gun
K-22 Ursus Heavy pistol
Reinforced Gauntlets & gloves
Skills and Abilities:
Rookie - Tacticus has not participated in any combat against real hostiles. While he has been extensively trained and there are several veterans on the team, there is no true substitute to the real thing. This also lends itself to his biotics skills being limited aswell.
Cabalist - At 15 when Tacticus joined the Turian military he was immediately separated from his classmen and put into a Cabal training program. Among biotic training Tacticus was also given heavily specialized training as a shock troop, meaning he is skilled with pistols, explosives, and infiltration.
Combat Biotic - Tacticus's biotics are strong enough for his abilities to be used as weapons on their own. Most of his abilties are focused on augmenting his own body for the time being. Though his manipulation of mass effect fields beyond his own body are limited he only needs his hands to punch a hole through most people and objects.
Pilot - As part of his training in the Cabal he is rated to pilot most vehicles if need be.
Background: Tacticus was born to 40 year old parents both of whom were special forces in the Turian military. This meant that after parental leave one of them had to retire from active combat to raise Tacticus, his father ended up volunteering for the job and took a position planning operations while his mother continued her active service. Since he was an only child Tacticus was given quite a bit of attention from his father which ended up shaping him into a shinning model of Turian selflessness. Though since his parents were both serving the military Tacticus never stayed on one planet or space station long. This meant he generally had few friends which he always knew he would have to leave behind, he never became very attached to them as a consequence. That changed however when his mother was injured during an operation and forced to retire from her active combat position. When Tacticus was given the news he was pulled out of his class. The young Tacticus was so distraught learning this he accidentally discovered his biotics. From that point on Tacticus isolated himself from others his age as he did not want to hurt them. His parents knew that this would force him into the Cabals when he turned 15 so they decided it was best to wait out the last few years and provide support as best they could.
When Tacticus was signing his life to the Hierarchy he was afraid of what his fellow soldiers would think of him in basic. He knew the stigma he was facing, after all his own parents didn't trust him when he first found out. While the following year was not as bad as he thought it would be it still left him alone whenever they were not doing exercises or general training. But when all of their assignments were being dolled out Tacticus was immediately assigned to the cabals. Thus began his grueling two years of training.
An odd thing happened though when he became apart of the all biotic strike force. He finally felt like he was home. Most people in the cabal he was assigned to had similar stories to his and it made Tacticus feel like he truly fit in somewhere. The companionship Tacticus built up with his Cabal through blood, sweat, and tears during their demanding endurance exercises and the fact that they were alone together made him become extremely close with his squad and vice versa. The squad spirit that was exemplified through their well oiled actions later in training was one of power and determination to assist the Hierarchy in any way possible.
Recently the squad was given a handler and moved to the outer reaches of colonized space. They are set to provide security in the Pylos Nebula and to deal with any more dangerous elements that always pop up on new colonies. Currently however they have been assigned to a ship that will act as their temporary home. |
1,371 | 30 | 11 | 2,328 | 1,041 | Zhar stood looking out on the planet below as his ship docked soundlessly with the colonies orbital station. From the bridge viewports the planet had a unique serenity to it, which, though it was present when looking at virtually every garden world in the galaxy, still had a quite relaxing effect.
Zhar’s reverie was interrupted, however, when a message came through the bridge communicator stating that the meeting had been moved forward. A mildly annoyed look crossed Zhar’s massive, scarred face for just a moment at that. He had been looking forward to meeting and getting to know the important people here. Of course he already had some intel on them, not as much as he might’ve had in the old days, before the Reapers perhaps, but there was still nothing quite like talking to someone in person to get their measure. Still, that could always wait until after the meeting. This wasn’t exactly a high stakes meeting after all.
He quickly made his way through his ship, which was almost as large as the station it was docked with. He spared not a thought for his attire, for he was already arrayed in a fine black suit and he had long ago come to terms with his scars. Before the Reapers, he had detested scars and had any he gained surgically repaired. But the scars he bore now, they had come from defending his home, not from a petty merc raid or clan war, but from the greatest threat the galaxy had ever faced. That, in Zhar’s mind, was a worthy for a permanent mark.
Crossing the threshold into the station, he immediately noted that the majority of the crew were Turian or Quarian. He was glad that the Quarians had been able to regain their place in the galaxy, and was particularly happy to help them do so. Turians he respected, not so much for their no nonsense mentality, which usually made them a bore to talk to, but certainly for their successfully executed Meritocracy, which was, in Zhar’s opinion, the best governing method.
It did not take long to reach the meeting room, and with quick glance around he noted several distinct groups of people. The Council was here officially, of course, but there seemed also to be more than just the natives. There was also a geth present, though that was not exactly a rare thing given the now symbiotic relationship the Geth and Quarians seemed to share.
Given the short time available, Zhar decided to just get a drink and wait rather than introduce himself to anyone. He walked to the bar and, after finding the oldest vintage available, poured a slender glass worth of the alcohol. | Name: Khel Zhar
Species: Krogan
Age: 693
Gender: Male
Appearance: In many ways Zhar looks like a completely unremarkable everyday Krogan. He has no distinguishing marks, his eyes are a normal Krogan yellow, his skin is the tan color of a middle aged Krogan and his plates are a fairly common dull brown. However, unlike most Krogan, Zhar puts effort into maintaining the symmetry of his head plates and generally ensuring he doesn't look too rugged. He favors a black custom-made business suit of light and highly expensive material with a number of micro shield generators inconspicuously hidden beneath the fabric. He is well spoken and has a deep but smooth voice, somewhat uncharacteristic of a Krogan. The Reaper war has left him with scars he had managed to avoid before then. He has several gouges across his head plates and scar tissue on the left side of his neck and elsewhere on his body.
Weapons/Equipment:
Evolution of the Viper Sniper Rifle (Phasic Rounds/Tungsten Rounds)
Evolution of the Carnifex Heavy Pistol (Cryo Rounds)
Evolution of the Locust SMG (Cryo Rounds)
Shielded business suit
Krogan Heavy armor (on the rare occasion when he puts himself into a combat situation on purpose)
Omni Tool
Asari Frigate (custom refit)
Skills and Abilities:
Excellent business sense.
Energy Drain
Shield Boost
Recon Mine
Tactical Scan
Sticky Grenade
Background:
Khel Zhar’s history is a long and storied one. He was born on Tuchanka to clan Khel, and was raised there as a true Krogan, although rumour has it that he was never very good at being ‘true Krogan.’ Precise details of his escape from the blasted rock that is the Krogan homeworld are surprisingly hard to come by, and will not be detailed here, suffice it to say that he ended up on the Citadel at the age of seventy-two with no idea what to do with himself. He worked for thirty years as a mere janitor, unwilling to take jobs involving violence as his compatriots did, but unable to find anyone on the station willing to look past his lumbering exterior at the keen mind within.
Eventually, Zhar managed to find one of these people - a Volus named Colu Sen. Under the Volus’ tutelage, he learned of Galactic finance and economics, and while initially not as fast to learn and adapt as his Volus partner and teacher, his persistent nature quickly saw the two of them founding and operating a small Galactic Finance company. The pair continued to run this small business for sixty years, until Colu Sen, in his old age, inadvertently thrust the pair into the world of corporate espionage and the buying and selling of Information. Colu died shortly after that, though it is not public knowledge as to whether he was killed or not.
Zhar remained on the citadel maintaining the business the pair had set up for roughly one hundred years, keeping the original company alive while branching out into founding other small companies, often only to let them die once they’d recouped their costs. This period of time broadened and deepened Zhar’s understanding of the business world considerably, to the point where he has an almost innate feel for the fluctuations that normally make it so unpredictable. While no psychic, Zhar’s personal worth has skyrocketed due to well placed and well timed investments. Unfortunately, some of his investments eventually drew the attention of the wrong people, and after narrowly surviving a brazen attack on his Citadel apartment, Zhar liquidated all of his citadel holdings and moved to Illium. He planned to let his reputation on the Citadel fade for a few hundred years while his detractors died of old age.
Once on Illium, he founded the first iteration of his business in Nos Parnello, and while initially highly successful, its fortunes followed those of the city into ruin. Ever the entrepreneur, Zhar not only survived but flourished in the adversity, relocating to Nos Astra and riding the sudden wave of popularity the city received to make his company one of the foremost in its area on Illium. Altogether, his stay on Illium has lasted approximately two hundred years.
When the Reapers finally arrived, it came as a surprise to Zhar, but not for the reasons most found it surprising. He had certainly believed there was more to the Geth attack on the Citadel than met the eye, but he never anticipated the scale of the Reaper invasion. When his contacts in the Batarian Hegemony went dark, he immediately saw to preparing his own defenses, as well as coordinating Illium’s preparations.
When the Reapers finally reached the Crescent Nebula, Zhar, and Illium, were ready. Though technically an Asari colony, and under protection by the Asari fleet, Illium has always been a haven for the rich and scrupulous - people that, for all their normal inability to get along, have one thing in common - a burning sense of self preservation. When the entire upper class of Illium put its considerable financial might towards that goal, they were able to assemble a formidable resistance to the Reapers.
With this corporate might, Zhar and a number of other Illium businessmen and women were able to survive the Reaper invasion, holding out long enough for Shepard to finally defeat the Reapers.
Following the Reaper war, Zhar decided to reevaluate his business. With such significant damage done to his Illium holdings, once the heart of his current business, he chose to start anew. Rather than rebuild Illium, he chose to create a mobile center for business. Initially he started small, making his office out of a tiny room on an old light freighter that had been one of his backup escape methods. He scrounged together a small merchant fleet and immediately began using it to assist in relief efforts throughout Council space, though with a particular focus on Asari colonies and Thessia.
Rather than greedily extort colonial governments in need of aid, he instead charged only enough to keep the business running at a very small profit. Though some of his rivals and fellows questioned his sanity for such a seemingly selfless act, the more intelligent among them realized it was not selfless, simply the long game being played at its finest.
His goals at that point were to aid in the restoration of a galactic economy and ensure the Asari could retain a significant role in galactic politics in order to continue carrying out their role as diplomats and negotiators. All to ensure there would continue to be an ideal peacetime environment for him to continue his goal from before the Reaper war - living a comfortable life far from Krogan ideals.
In more recent decades, Zhar has turned to somewhat more profitable endeavors. Though he maintains the colony relief and supply business, he has gone back into Information brokering, which has allowed him to restore much of his personal wealth and keep his debt to the Shadow Broker satisfied.
He is currently involved in personally overseeing his company's efforts in the Pylos Nebula, observing primarily from his personal command ship, the refitted Asari frigate Prosperous Heart, from which he also simultaneously manages his intelligence network. |
1,372 | 30 | 12 | 739 | 6,473 | Avatar, Voira, Raa, and RK were among the last to make their way to the designated chamber for the meeting. For the whole walk to the chamber, Avatar was analyzing every byte of data it could observe that could be related to the locals or their security. The abnormal set of events which had occurred thusfar it had deemed sufficient to warrant heightened precautions.
As they stepped into the chamber, Avatar performed an immediate visual scan of its surroundings. Overall, the council delegation numbered thirty, with half of those present being security personnel. The majority of the security for this meeting had been given by the Human Systems Alliance, though most of the other members of the delegation consisted of other Citadel species. Presently, the local security force was equal in size, but Avatar could not visually locate any of the local negotiators. The chamber itself was notably large; being approximately 2.4 times the size required to accommodate the number of expected participants. Mostly, the area they were in was open, apart from tables, chairs, and a complimentary food and drink vendor. However, there was also a second level to the chamber 3.18 meters above the floor which consisted of a platform that encircled the entire chamber, connected across the middle by three walkways. There was currently no one on the second level, though Avatar could see doors leading to the level above them from outside of the chamber.
Just as Avatar was about to attempt to locate the lead Quarian diplomat, it, and everyone else from the Council delegation, received a priority communication for the Turian cruiser, Invector, the primary escort for the colony ships. However, before anything could be said, the channel was suddenly closed. Immediately, Avatar attempted to re-open a channel with the cruiser, with no results. "Attempting communications with Turian vessel...3,687 attempts failed...5,882 failed attempts with all allied vessels. Testing internal radio communications..." Avatar began, pausing for only an instant as it sent a communication query to RK in order to confirm that the radio was functioning within the station. When it succeeded, Avatar concluded that all attempts at communication outside the station were being blocked, but radio signals could still be sent and received within the station. This was ideal for coordinating an ambush. "...successful. Probability of intentional communications disruption: 92%." Avatar warned.
At the same time, many of the local security personnel in the room noticed the confused reactions of the Citadel delegation after the incoming communication was suddenly cut short. The Turian guard to the right of the door nearest to Avatar shifted uncomfortably as he brought his hand up to his earpiece. "Ma'am, we need to do this now. Yes, I'm sure."
After only a few moments, the local guards started rushing to the doors they were guarding, locking them down. Judging hostile intent to be likely, Avatar reacted quickly. As the Turian was about to reach the console next to the door, Avatar used its omni-tool to initiate an overload on the guard's shields, sending out a burst of electricity that immediately drained his shields and stunned him momentarily. Before he could recover, Avatar rushed him, delivering a heavy blow to his head in order to incapacitate or kill him. Without knowing the specifications of his helmet, Avatar could not estimate his chance of survival, but given the force delivered by its powerful synthetic muscles, internal hemorrhaging and fractures of the skull were likely.
"Alert: immediate retreat recommended." Avatar announced to its allies as it grabbed the shotgun which the Turian had been holding. The local guards had their weapons trained on the crowd, shouting at them not to move. Some of the Council representatives were attempting to escape, but most, especially those too far from the one remaining exit, were too afraid to move. The representatives' security too had their weapons on the local guards, but given that the room was open, with little cover, heavy casualties could be expected on both sides once they opened fire. On the second floor above them, Avatar could detect the sound of doors opening. If the locals had indeed intended an ambush, it was likely that more enemy reinforcements were incoming. | Name: Avatar
Species: Geth
Age: 376 years since program’s creation
Gender: N/A
Weapons/Equipment:
-Geth Pulse Rifle v3
-Geth Plasma SMG v3
-A combat platform with greater capabilities than a standard Geth unit.
Skills and Abilities: Like most Geth, it is a tech expert with strong hacking capabilities. It has tech-based abilities (incinerate, cryo blast, etc) and is equipped with a tactical cloak. Its advanced mobile platform is quite durable. As its body is made from tough alloys with powerful synthetic muscles, it is capable of strength beyond that of an organic of similar size. It also has the accuracy and reaction time one would expect from an advanced machine.
Background: For most of Avatar’s existence, it was but a single Geth program, with little more than rudimentary instincts and completely reliant upon the presence of other Geth to attain intelligence. That, however, changed in the midst of the Reaper War. In the aftermath of the battle with the Creator fleet at Rannoch, all Geth were given Reaper upgrades that uplifted them to become true A.I. Avatar was given its name by a group of organics it fought alongside during the Battle of Earth, and decided to keep that name in order to facilitate easier communication with organics.
After the end of the war, Avatar filled many roles. At first most of the Geth’s efforts were on rebuilding what was lost at Rannoch and helping the Creators resettle on the homeworld. The efficiency of the Geth’s planning coupled with the eagerness of the Quarians to re-establish their home made the process rather quick. Avatar spent a few years inhabiting the suits of Creators, mimicking the effects of viruses to help them to rebuild their immune systems. Over time, cities were erected on the surface of Rannoch, and more and more Creators were able to live without their suits, though most still chose to wear them due to tradition.
Eventually, Avatar’s role shifted away from rebuilding and into security. Due to the weakened state of the galaxy in the years after the war, piracy and other forms of crime were becoming increasingly common. All Geth were capable of combat when installed in the correct platform, but Avatar had a desire to help, and through years of fighting, it had developed memory shortcuts in relation to combat that would make it more effective than programs that had not incorporated said shortcuts. Avatar has served ever since as a combat platform, patrolling sectors near the borders of Geth/Quarian space, and sometimes even in the territories of other species, when requested.
Most recently, Avatar has been assigned to accompany a group of Creators who have been tasked with preparing the way for the first Quarian settlements in the Pylos Nebula. Avatar’s assigned mission is to discuss Geth habitation of the planet with the locals and make other preparations for the Geth. Any Geth could perform that task, but due to the dangerous nature of the Attican Traverse, they felt it appropriate to send a combat platform for additional protection. |
1,373 | 30 | 13 | 2,025 | 3,680 | Voira scanned the room as they entered, noting the position of each of the local guards, the security of the representatives, and the layout of the room. It was open. Far to open for her liking. It'd make a good killing ground if someone would just put shooters on the upper balconies. She kept the three of them near a door, ready to make a quick exit if things went south. Her eyes briefly lingered on the Human delegation, noting how many security personnel they had brought. Clearly, someone wants to intimidate the other delegates. She thought, briefly smirking before going back to scanning the room, fingers tapping on her pistol again. Voira was eager for the meeting to begin, and to show that everything was perfectly normal.
Then of course, all the citadel delegates, including Avatar, began acting confused.
Voira's eyes snapped to Avatar as it began to speak, followed quickly by the Turian. What she heard she didn't like. "Shit." The Asari muttered under her breath, stepping closer to Raa, putting barrier over the Quarian again. "Be ready to move." She drew her Razer pistol, ready for whatever was coming, just as the guards began to move to secure the exits and try gain control of the crowd. Which failed, as all the security personnel drew their own weapons and pointed them at the guards. For a few moments, it was a tense situation that was ready to explode at any moment. Then Geth took one down quickly enough, but not quietly enough. The other guards noticed the commotion and then the gunfire started. Focused mainly on the soldiers of the representatives, some fire entering the crowd. Mass panic and chaos ensued, something Voira was shamelessly happy to use to their advantage. Bullets whizzed by, some pinging off of her shield, far too close to Raa for Voira's comfort. "We're leaving!" She snapped, grabbing Raa and pushing her out of the door as the rest of the crowd began to run towards the open exit. In a few more strides she picked the Quarian up and was pushing her ahead of her again. "Run! Run damn you!"
She didn't know what the local guards were trying to do, and she didn't care. Right now, all she cared about was getting Raa to safety. A nearby door caught her eye and she yanked the Quarian towards it, slamming her pistol butt against the button and then shoving Raa roughly inside. Voira ran in herself, slamming the door shut again. She took two quick steps and then was on her knees in front of Raa, trusting that the guards will be too busy to follow, one hand near her pistol.
"Look at us. Are you hurt? Did the bastards get you?" | Name: Voira Sirosi
Species: Asari
Age: 125
Gender: Female
Appearance: Voira
Voira is unnaturally tall for an Asari, standing at 6ft exactly. She attributes it to her father.
Weapons/Equipment:
-Thunder Assault Rifle
-Viper Shotgun
-Two Razer pistols
-Bottle of Ryncol
-Omni-tool, which she only uses for application and storage of her large supply of omni gel, and as a melee weapon in a pinch.
-Several different types of ammos (specifically, shredder rounds, Anti-armor rounds, poison rounds, and explosive rounds.)
Skills and Abilities:
-Powerful biotic. Due to rigorous training in biotic strength from her adoptive mother and the variety of skill sets she learned from her adoptive family, Voira is both a powerful biotic and a versatile one
-Skilled combatant. Another thing her adoptive mother and family’s insisted on. From a young age(50, to be exact) Voira had been trained in combat by all members.From the training of the Serrice Guard, to pirate combat, to Krogan battle training, Voira has been taught well.
-Field Medic. Voira is good at patching people up, if Omni-Gel isn’t on hand, especially during the heat of battle.
Background:
Voira knows firsthand what it’s like to lose everything in an instant. She was still a child at 48 years old when the Reapers finally made it to the Asari home world. She lost both her biological parents(A Krogan for her father) and her twin sister. That was the most devastating blow. While she had loved her parents, she had had a deep bond with her sister that was only increased by their biotic abilities. They could hear each other’s thoughts, feel what the other was feeling and were even referring to themselves in plural rather than singular. They were, in short, inseparable. Then the Reapers came, and Voira’s world was remade in fire and ash.
She doesn’t remember much of the actual event. Bits and pieces. She remembered panic, fear, running, hiding, praying to the Asari goddess, a collapsing building, and being trapped alone. Then there was a blinding red light, blistering pain, and a screaming in her head she thought would never stop.
She didn’t know how long it had been when she woke to the sounds of people arguing. Someone, with a deep gravelly voice, wanted to leave. Someone else wanted to stay and look for ‘the extraction target’ a little while longer. Other voices commented for or against the idea of leaving, but those were the ones Voira heard the most. She tried calling for help once. All that came out was a soft rasp. She tried twice, and winced at the pain in her throat. The voices sounded like they were going away, leaving. Panic filled her and Voira screamed for help. Pain wracked her body and she ended up coughing violently, tasting blood coughed up from her ravaged throat.
Despite the pain, her cry for helped work. Through the familiar and comforting blue glow of biotics, her tomb of rubble was removed. The first face she saw was an Asari, reaching down to haul her out. Voira sobbed in relief, wrapping her arms around the mercenary, pressing her face against the emblem on her chest. The other Asari’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close. The last thing Voira heard before falling back unconscious was, “We’re taking her with us.”
When Voira next awoke, she was on a strange ship, with the same Asari sitting next to her, quietly watching. After introductions were done and it was explained, where she was and that, that she wasn’t well enough to leave on her own, Voira slipped back into sleep. Almost Every time she woke up, Voira found Dahlia, as the Asari had introduced herself, sitting there. Sometimes she would look ragged, as if she had just come from a fight, but she would always be quietly there, waiting and watching over her. They would talk, quietly, and then Voira would grow tired again and slip back into sleep. It continued like this for an uncertain amount of time for Voira, before she was well enough to wander the ship on her own. The war had been won in her rest. The Reapers destroyed, the human Shepard dying to activate the Crucible. Voira didn’t care. It had finally hit her. Her family was dead, her other half killed by the burning beam of the Reapers. What did she have to live for?
Tevura caught her the first time. Biotics knocked the pistol from her hand and pinned her to the wall. Ignoring her screams of rage and curses, the mercenary commander merely looked at her with sad, understanding eyes. Various others stopped her next dozen tries. A Krogan, a human, another Asari, and a Quarian being the most frequent. Finally, Tevura’s eyes went from sad and understanding to hard and pitiless.
She told Voira, bluntly, that she was acting like a selfish child, that her family and least of all her twin wouldn’t want her killing herself needlessly, and if she felt like explaining to her family why she was so selfish as to join them before she had to die it was her choice. Before she exited the door she made one final comment. If Voira chose to live, Tevura would want to adopt her. She then left Voira with a pistol. For a long time Voira stayed in that room. Multiple times she almost did it. She put the gun to her head and nearly pulled the trigger. Finally, she put it down for good. Tevura was right, her family wouldn’t approve and she couldn’t tell if she was more afraid of their condemnation when she met them in whatever afterlife there was, or if the idea of ‘Embracing eternity’ permanently was what terrified her.
She walked out into the hallway, smiling slightly at the clear relief on Tevura’s face, and said she accepted. What followed next was decades of training by her new adoptive family. Over time she began to see them not as those who took her in and finally as her new family. Even Tasi, who scared her sometimes, she grew to love. She even met what she considered to be her extended family, that is, the surviving Barbacus crew. About thirty-five years ago, she hit the maiden stage and declared herself ready to go see what the universe had to offer. Tevura(who had told Voira her secrets long ago), agreed to let her go, but made sure she was prepared.
The next several decades were spent wandering, getting into adventures with mercenary groups and generally exploring the universe and what it had to offer. She never stayed in one place for very long, always moving on to see the next big thing the universe had. She hunted thresher maws with Krogans, fought(and was nearly killed by) a Drell assassin, and even charged into the teeth of a battalion of Elcor soldiers. However, the experience she remembers most fondly is when she met Raa’Kina.
The Quarian was trying to back out of a shady deal with five Turians who were rather…insistent that she pay them for services rendered, one way or another. When, after a comment by the Quarian, the Turians started getting a little too touchy with the Quarian Voira decided to intervene. Two of them were dead before they realized what was happening, and the rest were knocked over by a biotic blast while the Quarian rapidly backpedaled into cover. What happened next was a traditional firefight, with them both to busy concentrating on not dying to do introductions. After the remaining Turians were killed they introduced themselves. Raa’Kina was so naïve and cheerful and friendly that Voira couldn’t just leave her alone.
What started out as a simple escort to safer areas turned into, after some time talking to Raa’Kina, into a decision to not let the Quarian go on her own through her pilgrimage. At least for a little while.
She’s still following Raa.
Misc Details:
-Voira’s favored drink is Ryncol, a drink she picked up from her aunt Kalros.
-While on a trip to Earth with her uncle Dave, Voira picked up the habit of smoking. More specifically, Earth Cuban Cigars. She quit years ago, but she still carries around a pack of them. Not to smoke, but to chew on when she’s thinking hard or to smell to calm nerves.
-Voira still refers to herself in plural. I or me becomes we, mine becomes ours, etc. |
1,374 | 30 | 14 | 799 | 7,421 | Though the room felt vast and large, the crowd number made Raa feel like it wasn't big enough. Her small body kept tightly to Voira while her face scanned the crowds for a familiar sight, namely someone she knew, and found herself disappointed when she failed. This fact coupled with earlier events had made her rather edgy now causing RK's voice to hack into the headphones and spark conversation.
To everyone looking her direction, Raa looked like she was carrying a conversation with herself. It was something abnormal and strange, that is until they took in account her AI and its abilities. Then it would all make sense, including the worrisome looks casted her way during her ignorance.
Both Avatar and Voira were on high alert since the strange Turians, a matter Raa, personally, rather much forget. Ignoring the tension of her companions, she absorbed the scenery. There wa sparse decoration as the room took on a more business manner with tables lined up beside each other and by chairs tucked into each side, allowing some of the delegates to already take a seat. The meeting looked like it would get underway anytime as Raa started to left Voira’s side for her own seat, her mind a swirling bunch of nerves, before she stopped dead in her tracks. A message started to come over her communications only to be cut off in its infancy making her unsettled, her eyes widened in surprise and hand came over her helmet side. RK had picked up on the glitch and already proceeded to scan the result. Her program busy trying to reestablish communications, reroute the data and scrub the earlier opening of the channel to determine issues. RK idly listened to the Geth rattle off his progress while he paused, his query about the radio received and returned with an affirmation that the radios were still up yet not broadcasting beyond the station itself. Something unnatural unless… it was by designed.
“RK, what’s going on?” Raa asked, her voice starting to begin to worry and fret, her hand still held over her interface. She noticed she wasn’t the only one that was unsettled about the silent transmission. Raa sense, more than saw, Voira pull in beside her causing her head to twist about to watch the older Asari. A blue, translucent shielding came up between her and the others before fading, the only indication it was there was the hairs rising on the back of her neck. For a moment her breath sucked in deeply, holding in her chest, her body frozen in place at noting Voira’s earlier curse. Raa knew this wasn’t going to be good.
The delegates were left still mumbling, their voices becoming quite disquiet, before the local security started to stir. Their figures reaching to lock the doors, imprisoning them into one room as Raa’s breath stilled within her environmental suit. It all happened rather quickly. First moment the guard nearest was about to bend over and input data to seal them in, next instant there was a loud buzzing followed by sparks and Avatar took him down with a smack to the skull back. The Turian crumbled like wet paper as the humans phrased it, leaving the door wide open. Raa flinched at the scene, her hands curled up protectively over her heart. This couldn’t be happening. Not here or not, she thought with fear rippling through her mind.
All hell broke loose.
Several bullets flow towards the Geth’s direction, their guns opened fire, as Raa gasped in panic. Her body made to duck and protect herself only to be jerked by Voira’s hand gripping her arm. Her body was shoved forward, her body crashing into the far wall when the rest of the crowd stampeded through. Legs wobbled and shook when she tried to stand, only to get pushed and shoved back down to be trampled underneath many feet. She felt her body once again pulled upright, her legs wobbly and shaken, barely able to support herself, as she was shoved down the hallway. Raa could hear the screaming, gun shot, and sounds of botics in the room behind them.
Raa was so focus on running she was far less observant of her surroundings, so when Voira tugged her towards another direction she slammed right into the Asari. Voira barely seemed to have noticed as the asari pushed her inside quickly. It was then, her legs, jello now regardless of the strength they had earlier, chose to crumble from under her. She collapsed onto her knees and started to shake, her arms holding herself to make it stop. Raa’s head jerked upright when she heard Voira’s boots step closer. The bright eyes studied her all over, likely seeking signs of injury, while her words echoed through Raa’s mind.
The quarian shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Just bruised and banged up, nothing ba-”
Her words stopped when she spotted the thin, purple line that leaked over her suit. Raa stared while trying to registered the reason. Realization hit her like a bolt causing her jerk, her hands unwrapped herself and her eyes examined the wound. “Voira you’ve been shot! Are you alright?!?” | Name: Raa’Kina (Raa for short)
Species: Quarian.
Age: 21
Gender: female
Appearance:
Raa’Kina, outside her suit, looks like most other Quarians her young age. She has the pale, humanoid figure with the bowed legs, three digit hands, and two toe feet, all of it standing at a total of 5’6” in height. Lean muscle and a subtle mix of curves grace her frame, including a modest bust, common in the fairer gender of her race. Under the mask, her face has soft, rounded features whenever she compares her own to her mother’s far more angular and mature ones. It seems her illuminating pupils tend to ooze empathy and scream naivety in every look, a trait she founds more annoying than elegant as some of her suitors put it. Two dark lines trace her neck front, branching off in the common found way, with two lines running from her slanted eyes to her hairline.
Though these traits are common, she also has her own personal design and choices in style that makes her stand out in her own right. Namely to give her more individuality compared to other Quarians her own age group. Her dark, raven black hair is cut short, shaggy with wavy bangs as its tossed naturally into a playful mess. Just at the nape of her neck is a single section left untouched and roped into a braid that reaches to the neck base, held together by wiring that holds personal value.
Weapons/Equipment:
Pistol- Basic and simple, she uses this to protect herself during her piligramage
Omnitool- Raa’Kina’s toy when she was younger was her omnitool, enjoying mathical algorithms to a streaming lines of data and much later became her must need item on her person at all times. It has both the most widely and common Quarian applications, alongside some of her personalized designed ones. One she’s very proud in is a navigation program that hasn’t failed her and was designed thanks to help from her human great aunt (adopted) Devryn.
AI- An artificial intelligence evolved from an older VI programming by her grandfather Pai’Seef. Since the Reaper War and the fact the AI had been helpful, her grandfather’s punishment was somewhat lighter than prewar times though he still willingly accepted it. Once known as Raa’Kina, the AI now goes by RK for short due to the two sharing a name. RK is blunt, logical yet has a sense Quarian nature to her interactions and expressions which makes it seem she is nothing more than another organic on the omnitool comm. Despite her emotional display in her visual, she can’t fully understand the emotions she shows or why they are appropriate for the occasion. Sometimes she can seem a bit insensitive or rude, her attitude designed by Pai’Seef and long since evolved into her own.
Skills and Abilities:
Software knowledge and talent- Raa’Kina is a logical, if cheerful individual, who is very talented in software area of technology. She can repair, rebuild, or salvage almost any sort of software there which makes sense why her homeworld believed she was a good choice for this mission. Sadly, like her grandfather who she inherited the talent from, her skills in actually building the machine is sadly is average compared to her software abilities.
Decent Shooter- Raa’Kina can and does practice the base marksman skills for her pistol, namely to prevent injuring someone who doesn’t deserve it. And that’s anyone who has the nerve to attack her or her allies. Sadly she’s not perfect in this skill and distance does tend to matter with her aim, the farther distance the target is from her location then the harder it is to hit it. However, she won’t shoot unless she’s got a high chance at hitting it.
Tech Powers
Basics:
Blow torch- basic engineer tool used for welding and cutting metals.
Scanner- determine flaws, damages, and other details on an inanimate object
Flashlight- enable to see in dark places
Dispenser- holds medi-gel and any converted omni-gel used for unlocking stubborn doors
Camera- able to take images and store them within her omnitool
Games unit- solution to boredom problems
Fash- able to cause a brief, overpowering flare of light that can blind surrounding enemies Duration: few seconds Recharge: 10 seconds
Hacking- able to jack into machines, doors, and even other omni-tools (later much harder)
Omni-blade- super heated, disposable blade used to peel off aged bolts
Sabotage: Overheats and disables weapons requiring the affected target to eject and reload their thermal clip before being able to use again. In addition, it can hack and turn hostile synthetics into allies.
Recharge Speed: 8 seconds or more (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Medium (target must be tagged/scanned before hand for hijacking a synthetic)
Target Number: 1
Dampener: Increases explosion radius of proximity mines, or like explosion items. It also shuts down both surrounding enemy tech and biotic abilities, temporary disabling a small group for a short time but at a high recharging time cost.
Recharge Speed: 40 seconds (3-4 posts estimated)
Range: Close (within eyesight)Target Number: small group (3-4)
Overload: Overloads electronics by creating a power surge and also stunning her enemies for a brief time. Effective against shields, barriers, and synthetics. Not nearly as effective on organics, if at all.
Recharge Speed: 8 or more seconds (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Close (within eyesight)
Target Number: 1
Tactical Cloaking: By reflecting and wrapping light about the user, it renders them invisible. Sight is the only sense affected as the user can still be smelt, heard and felt if she careless enough. Once hit, the shield shuts down and the user is revealed back to a visible status. This doesn’t protect the user besides hiding her from sight, still allowing her to be hurt or possibly killed on discovery.
Recharge Speed: 20 seconds (2-3 posts, estimated)
Range: N/A
Duration: Short period, mostly depending on skill/story need
Target Number: N/A
Background:
Raa’Kina was born from Xemel’Sinara vas Aerata and Terna’Welyxi nar Rannoch, she is the second child in her family to be born on the newly rebuilt homeworld. For the most part, she could say her life was pretty average throughout her childhood. There of course was the natural slight changes to her race’s culture and views toward the Geth, the Reaper War nearly ushered every living thing into extinction had managed at least one positive thing after costing so many their lives. According to the dwindling elders’ stories, much has changed compared to their time. Technology studied from the Reapers brought most races to equal grounds when it came to life quality, advancement, and more. The biggest achievement in the Quarians’ view was gaining their own planet again. After everything that happened, the tension between the Quarians and Geth seem like a faint, distant memory compared to the modern age she lived in. Now a days on her homeworld, one rarely walked out onto the street without seeing the two races mingling in the sun’s dense rays, making her recall her grandfather’s last recorded words that this was an event that should’ve happened long ago.
When Raa’Kina reflects on her past, she only has a few memories, both good and bad, that stick up in her mind. Nothing she feels is interesting compared to her grandfather Pai’Seef’s or grandaunt Devryn’s experiences while working at Farian’s Ship Repair in their younger years. However, they are very hard to forget.
The youngest she can recall is at seven years old, she learned how dangerous it was when she wasn’t aware of her surroundings. Faulty and experimental machinery, developed from the Reaper War data, had malfunctioned bring the massive thing crumbling down the distracted girl. Geth and several Quarians had been chatting nearby when one unit noticed the event. She was lucky to come off with just a scratch, one of the nearest Geth units immediately spurred into action and scooped her away from the crash zone before she was killed. It took several minutes for her to calm down, her mother finally peeling her off the machine, and held her close in a comforting embrace. The bad part was she never got to thank the Geth who saved her personally.
Later, at the age of ten, she met another who shared the same name as herself. A curious AI, created and stood side by side with her grandfather, contacted her during the funeral. She was shocked such a being knew her, let alone having the same name. Curiosity won out over her caution, like usual, causing the pair to get very acquainted with one another through the common link: Pai’Seef. She learned, even to this day, much about the relative she hadn’t much chance to know better from his adventures during employment under Nasyrius’ Barbacus crew employed by the Farian Ship Repair to the Reaper War defense, as well as his punishment for creating the AI. Though RK, as she is referred to now as, suffered no ill effects, she disagreed with Quarian government’s punishment despite it being lessened due to services rendered and lives saved by his actions.
Intrigued by RK’s stories, Raa’Kina’s first destination on her pilgrimage was right into the most likely still surviving member who served with her grandfather, the asari Noami’lie Tynci. During the Reaper invasion, the asari lost her company in damages when it came to defending the planet and afterwards went into bankruptcy which had caused great heartache in the end. The only thing she managed to keep was the Barbacus, an asari light freighter in the destiny class, modified by both Pai’Seef and Devryn. It was here she learned what happened to the rest, learning the hard truth of why Noami’lie had kept the starship. Though Nasyrius died during the War, the two ended up having a daughter together named Nyasea who surpisingly seemed to have taken many traits from her father causing the Quarian to bid them farewell at the end of her visit.
She continued her pilgrimage for the next few months before she ended up getting roped into a deal with five Turians, currently involved with the selling of high level software at an ideal price. At first, she thought would be ideal for back home without thinking why they would've sold it at half the normal credits, taking their explanation it was second hand and per-owned. Things went terribly wrong when the Turians started to become more touchy than she was comfortable with. She started to withdrew her interest and they didn't take kindly to that, one of them immediately closing their three fingered hand about her arm to pull her back. Naturally Raa'Kina panicked. She went for her pistol, but one had managed to get behind and prevent her from drawing it. RK was about to do something when suddenly two Turians dropped, including the one holding her, causing her to duck behind the nearest cover. It was her first time ever being in a live gunfight while quickly showed her lacking skills in the area resulting her in getting a minor injury. RK embarrassed her some by uttering out why it was a bad idea as she showed her lacking experience in the world, something she inwardly believes her casually brushing off the incident didn't help her case.
So, for a another few years both Voira and RK accompanied her, herstrong desire to gain a rich experience and more driving her onward, much like the Barbacus’ crew had. Among her travels she encountered various colonies, aiding in their survival with her talent, which expanded her knowledge about others outside Quarian. Often it was in exchange for credits, place to stay or even pay for her next trip out though to say it was completely safe was an understatement. Piracy and theft had became more common in the following years, even though the Reapers no longer was a common threat, which had force Raa’Kina to start keeping her pistol locked and ready at all times. She had a few close calls but thanks to RK, they managed to avoid trouble well enough.
A few weeks ago, RK had received a message that she had been contacted and hired for aiding the colonization of a planet within the Pylos Nebula, the first time in their long history. It was a chance to explore and possibly benefit her homeworld most of all. Though KR logically predicted the odds that something would go wrong against the right, the AI kept her mouth shut, hitching a ride with the gruff Voira and naive Quarian youth. |
1,375 | 30 | 15 | 739 | 6,473 | It did not require a detailed observation for Avatar to determine that the situation was not tactically favorable. The gunfire began 2.38 seconds after the first of its allies fled through the open door, and casualties were immediate. Three of the Turian representatives who had been relatively close to the door had started to run as soon as they were warned, but two of them were shot in the back before they could make it through the door.
By this point, Avatar had secured the shotgun from the guard it had incapacitated, so it returned fire on the group of two Turians and a Batarian who were focusing most prominently on the fleeing dignitaries. As it was a semi-automatic shotgun, Avatar was able to fire two shots before they could react. Unfortunately, at the current range, the first shot was not sufficient to deplete its target’s shields, so most of the pellets impacted the shield, and the remaining ones which penetrated did not produce a fatal wound. Regardless, the incoming fire was enough that the Batarian and the wounded Turian moved to spread out, though they had no cover which to move to. Meanwhile, the other Turian’s omni-tool activated, delivering an overload attack to Avatar. Its shields were more robust than the Turian it had stunned with a similar attack, so its mobile platform remained undamaged, but its shields were entirely depleted.
Avatar fired another shot for the purpose of suppression before quickly falling back through the door. However, instead of retreating completely, it made use of one of the only cover positions available by hiding behind the metal frame on the right side of the door. It had to take a few moments to allow its shields to recover, during which time the battle within only grew more chaotic. Several of the enemy guards in the middle of the room had formed a wedge between the allied force, forcing half of the Citadel representatives to trap themselves in a corner on the opposite side of the room. On the far side of the room, two of the Quarian representatives had been grabbed by a group enemies and were being held with weapons to their head. The Alliance soldiers nearest to them were unable to fire without hitting them, and while even Avatar could not hear what was being said over the gunfire elsewhere in the room, there was a strong probability that they were demanding surrender in exchange for letting them live. Though, in the rest of the soldiers in the room were simply engaged in direct firefights.
Had the situation remained constant, allied forces would have had an approximately 70% chance of victory, given their superior training and equipment, but on the second level of the room, enemy reinforcements quickly moved in. From all sides, they started to fire down from above, quickly turning the favor of the battle in their direction. They focused on soldiers first, though some fired at diplomats trying to flee. Avatar set out a combat drone to harass hostiles on the second floor and fired on those trying to block escape, but the enemy’s numbers were now too great for victory to be a reasonable possibility. Retreat was the only option with a potentially favorable outcome. | Name: Avatar
Species: Geth
Age: 376 years since program’s creation
Gender: N/A
Weapons/Equipment:
-Geth Pulse Rifle v3
-Geth Plasma SMG v3
-A combat platform with greater capabilities than a standard Geth unit.
Skills and Abilities: Like most Geth, it is a tech expert with strong hacking capabilities. It has tech-based abilities (incinerate, cryo blast, etc) and is equipped with a tactical cloak. Its advanced mobile platform is quite durable. As its body is made from tough alloys with powerful synthetic muscles, it is capable of strength beyond that of an organic of similar size. It also has the accuracy and reaction time one would expect from an advanced machine.
Background: For most of Avatar’s existence, it was but a single Geth program, with little more than rudimentary instincts and completely reliant upon the presence of other Geth to attain intelligence. That, however, changed in the midst of the Reaper War. In the aftermath of the battle with the Creator fleet at Rannoch, all Geth were given Reaper upgrades that uplifted them to become true A.I. Avatar was given its name by a group of organics it fought alongside during the Battle of Earth, and decided to keep that name in order to facilitate easier communication with organics.
After the end of the war, Avatar filled many roles. At first most of the Geth’s efforts were on rebuilding what was lost at Rannoch and helping the Creators resettle on the homeworld. The efficiency of the Geth’s planning coupled with the eagerness of the Quarians to re-establish their home made the process rather quick. Avatar spent a few years inhabiting the suits of Creators, mimicking the effects of viruses to help them to rebuild their immune systems. Over time, cities were erected on the surface of Rannoch, and more and more Creators were able to live without their suits, though most still chose to wear them due to tradition.
Eventually, Avatar’s role shifted away from rebuilding and into security. Due to the weakened state of the galaxy in the years after the war, piracy and other forms of crime were becoming increasingly common. All Geth were capable of combat when installed in the correct platform, but Avatar had a desire to help, and through years of fighting, it had developed memory shortcuts in relation to combat that would make it more effective than programs that had not incorporated said shortcuts. Avatar has served ever since as a combat platform, patrolling sectors near the borders of Geth/Quarian space, and sometimes even in the territories of other species, when requested.
Most recently, Avatar has been assigned to accompany a group of Creators who have been tasked with preparing the way for the first Quarian settlements in the Pylos Nebula. Avatar’s assigned mission is to discuss Geth habitation of the planet with the locals and make other preparations for the Geth. Any Geth could perform that task, but due to the dangerous nature of the Attican Traverse, they felt it appropriate to send a combat platform for additional protection. |
1,376 | 30 | 16 | 507 | 626 | Dong & Cactus
Donny looked around the hall nervously. It seemed like everyone else had no idea what was going on. He looked back at Eleanore who seemed calm, but was furiously swiping at her datapad. Without thinking he called out to her. "Ambassador, are we too early?" She looked up at down and scowled. Looking back down she shut down her datapad and put it into her purse. "Yes we are. We should-" That's when one of the soldiers gasped. The geth just smashed the head of a turian.
Shit hit the fan pretty fast after that. Almost immediately after the Geth attacked each of the bodyguards drew their guns and formed a protective wall around the ambassador with their bodies. They aimed their weapons at the other guards, largely turian, uncertain of what to do. But they had one objective, and they were going to carry it out: Protect the ambassador. Alexander took charge almost immediately. "Dong, Briar, Scope, with me. The rest of you take the Abasador somewhere safe. That geth opened up the only exit, go now!"
Training kicked in immediately for the others. Donny, Rosemary, and Aman were going to be with Alexander "Steak", and immediately they started shooting at the potential hostiles to cover the escape of Eleanore and the others. The two adepts formed a biotic barrier to cover the door, sustaining it only long enough to get everyone out. Everyone except Alexander and his crew. It seemed like they were going to stay and fight. "Move! Activate shields and use suppressing fire!" And suppressing fire is exactly what Rosemary offered. kicking into an adrenaline rush she whipped out her personal firearm, the M-96 Mattock. Donny never saw a bullet spitter like that before, and just a brief moment he thought Rosemary was a gun turret. She alone laid enough suppressing fire to cause everyone on the ground floor, including Donny, Alexander, and Aman, to get low to the ground. Aman took the opportunity to take out his rifle, the M-97 Viper, and took pot shots at the turian guards who didn't try to immediately take cover.
That's when Alexander snapped Donny back to reality with an order. "Dong, with me! We can't let them ease up for a moment!" Alexander was practically halfway across the room mid charge when Donny activated his own right behind him, tampling anything that Alexander missed. This was a mess and he didn't know how long they were going to last before they'd get peppered by bullets. On the bright side the ambasador was at least out of here.
"CONTACTS!" Sura yelled over the comms and into the room aswell. She was with two others next to the diplomat when the weapons fire began erupting all over the room as the Humans drew their weapons. He heard biotics begin to be tossed around the room by his allies and whatever the hell the enemies were. A massive biotic bubble popped up around the diplomat they were protecting supposed to be protecting. Sura and the other two were pressed close against diplomat shielding him with both biotics and their bodies. They began moving towards the door as the crowd in the room began running or attempting to take cover on the floor.
Tacticus threw a weak biotic barrier over himself and pushed a human in front of him forcefully to the ground with his left hand and drew his Ursus pistol from his plain clothes holster. Rounds began whizzing past him as he attempted to shoot at what appeared to be an Asari firing at the crowd. Unsure if any of his rounds were even hitting quickly turned his head to see that the bubble was moving for the one exit in the room. He turned his head back to the Asari who was moving towards the door and still firing pot shots into the crowd. Tacticus let biotic energy flow freely through his body and decreased his mass significantly. He catapulted himself bioticly at the Asari and flew across the room and delivered a punch to her head. The blow landed but barely broke her barriers and hit her open faced helmet only hard enough to dent it slightly. She swung her rifle around before Cactus could fully recover from the large expenditure of energy and hit him with the butt of the rifle in his shoulder.
Her retaliatory strike was luckily off hand and only really served to push Tacticus away from herself. Being pushed off balance by the strike and out of arms reach, he threw more biotic energy into his right leg and brought it around for a kick. Using her own biotics the Asari deflected his leg away from herself with her forearm. Realizing his kick was a failed endevour Tacticus put the remainder of his energy into one final punch with his pistol wielding hand downward onto the hunched over Asari's back. Finally connecting a punch he brought down enough force to put the Asari into the floor and breaking her shoulder and back armor. He began pulling the trigger on his heavy pistol as fast as he could possibly manage before a force knocked him off. It sent him flying and several feet away from the Asari and onto to the floor back first. He arched his back in pain for a moment on the ground before he heard someone yell over the comms at him.
"CACTUS! Get your ass to the door now! We are leaving! Everyone regroup at the elevators and we'll figure a way off this dump!" Holding his back for a moment Tacticus scrambled to his feet and exhausted began sprinting to the open door barely holding onto his pistol. Several rounds whizzed by him and a few even impacted his barrier and dropped it for a moment. Without his barrier he was rather vulnerable so he dove for the ground for the last few feet to the door. Pushing himself just a little to make it all the way to the door where most of the crowd was now running through or atleast attempting as they were being picked off. When he came to the edge of the door he grabbed it and threw himself with his remaining momentum up to the inside of the large door. Where he began taking pot shots back out at the betrayers.
The room was getting cleared of both enemies and bystandards. Though frankly with all the chaos going on, it was hard to figure out who was an enemy or who was a bystandard. The best they could guess was that anyone protecting a diplomat probally wasn't their enemy, but they could be like Dong and his ground and purposely left their diplomat in the hands of others to fend off these attackers. All in all, there was some miscommunication somewhere down the line.
Fortunately Dong's group was doing rather well for themselves. Rosemary provided substantial covering fire allowing less bullets being fired at Dong and Alexander, who put on pressure on individual hostiles. Aman picked off targets, but noticed movement topside. "Enemy reinforcements!" Alexander took notice as well, tapping Dong's shoulder. He motioned with one hand towards the door and tried to shout over the gun fire. "Dong, to the door!" Alexander pulled out his assault rifle, firing into a group of hostiles. He didn't intend to hit them, just get them to duck and cover. Dong took the opportunity to make a biotic charge strait towards the door, bowling over anyone unfortunate enough not to stand clear. He at least cut a path for Rosemary and Aman who followed him, shortly by Alexander bleeding from the mouth. Dong looked over to him and noticed a bloody wound on his abdomen.
"Steak! You're injuried!"
"Yeah, but I'll be fine. Let's keep moving, we got to find the ambassador."
That's when Dong and his group noticed a group of turians before them. Uncertain of their loyalty the group aimed their weapons at the turians, but Donny noticed something. Or someone. Someone familiar.
Tacticus felt warm blood spray into his face as one of the other several dozen Turian civilians in the room was shot and killed right in front of him. Tacticus almost fell over as the body slumped over into him. He quickly grabbed the body and threw it to the side of the door and out of the way of the running crowd. For a second he wondered who that was, but that was quickly pressed out of his mind as he ducked from several more rounds impacting next to him in the door.
When he popped his head back out he saw one of his squad mates blink into exsistance right in front of him and then also fall over and slide past him. He didn't hear him get up but he decided to keep firing and handle it in a minute. That was when he saw the face. The human from the dream. The one thing Tacticus had held onto from that dream and there it was, 20 meters in front of him running at him... weapon raised. The comm sprang to life with more activity this time it was Sura. "We got several Humans running at the door! Their inbetween the non-co's, hit em if you can!"
Tacticus immediately pressed his left hand to his throat and said. "Don't fire! Their part of the Human delegation!" He then moved his hand down and yelled at the approaching weapon wielding humans. "Don't fire we're friendly!"
Donny spoke out before his team could open fire. "Don't shoot them! They're not the enemy!" Donny emphasized this by lowing his own gun, turning his back on the turians to stand before his team. A risky move, but he had a... A gut feeling this was the right one. Alexander lowered his gun slowly, followed by Aman, and lastly Rosemary. They still kept their fingers near the trigger, ready for any violence. "I hope you're right Dong. We can't afford to lose anyone in this mission, more so since this was a trap." Alexander said matter-of-factly. Rosemary glared at the turians, almost as if she was shooting them with her eyes. "How can you trust them?! It's their people who fired on us first!"
Donny raised his hands defensively. He honestly had no real justification for why he did what he did. "Because I saw him in my dreams" was hardly a reasonable answer. But the fact he wasn't shot in the back at least proved that they weren't after the humans. "Briar, we can't risk making an enemy out of everyone on the ship because we lack intel. I want to know who our enemy is too, but I can't just go and assume every turian is the bad guy! Let's just find Eleanore and figure out how to get out of here before the entire firing squad shows up!"
That's when Alexander stepped in. "Hold on. Dong you're right that we lack intel. But we can't just stay with Eleanore and hope that the others would communicate with us. I want you to stay with the Turians for now, and feed us any information you can find out about this attack." Alexander then turned to the turians, his weapon now pointed towards the ground and his fringer away from the trigger. "I'm willing to take in and protect one of your men as well for the purpose of intek, if you'll allow one of my soldiers to accompany you. This way we can at least minimize friendly fire accidents."
Dong couldn't beleive he was getting volunteered to go with the turians. Sure he knew at least these guys weren't his enemies, but now he's being traded over with them? Not exactly his idea of a fun time. But now wasn't the time to make complaints. He had a vital role to fulfill and he was going to do his job. "Yes sir. But Steak, make sure you get that wound checked out." Donny turned to the turians, taking a deep breath, and took a step forward.
"Donny Yang, callsign Dong. Pleased to meet you. I promise I won't be a burden."
"Good to meet you! We don't really have time for pleasantries here." Sura yelled irritated with this whole situation. Flaring her nostrils and mandibles she yelled over the comms again over the gun fire. "Ruvea, you're gonna be with the Humans till we get out of this death trap! Keep us in the loop so we can avoid killing each other!" She quickly ran up behind Tacticus as weapons fire began to come down at an angle from above. "Hope you're right Cactus." She said then leaning out of cover and throwing a bubble of bitoic energy back out at the attackers.
As Sura slipped back towards the diplomats Cactus felt a wave of chills run down his spine as he realized how much trust Sura was putting in him. Then another voice called over the comms "Get everyone in I found a way to shut the door!" Tacticus looked across to the other side of the door where one of his brothers had ripped a panel off a wall and had his omni-tool activated.
"Everyone get in we're leaving!" Tacticus called out towards the few still running for the door. He leaned out of cover squeezing off several more rounds into a Human with tech armor. His few pistol rounds most likely making nare a dent in his shielding. | Name: Tacticus Agnom
Nickname: Cactus
Species: Turian
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Stands at just over six feet.
Weapons/Equipment:
M-37 Tempest Submachine gun
K-22 Ursus Heavy pistol
Reinforced Gauntlets & gloves
Skills and Abilities:
Rookie - Tacticus has not participated in any combat against real hostiles. While he has been extensively trained and there are several veterans on the team, there is no true substitute to the real thing. This also lends itself to his biotics skills being limited aswell.
Cabalist - At 15 when Tacticus joined the Turian military he was immediately separated from his classmen and put into a Cabal training program. Among biotic training Tacticus was also given heavily specialized training as a shock troop, meaning he is skilled with pistols, explosives, and infiltration.
Combat Biotic - Tacticus's biotics are strong enough for his abilities to be used as weapons on their own. Most of his abilties are focused on augmenting his own body for the time being. Though his manipulation of mass effect fields beyond his own body are limited he only needs his hands to punch a hole through most people and objects.
Pilot - As part of his training in the Cabal he is rated to pilot most vehicles if need be.
Background: Tacticus was born to 40 year old parents both of whom were special forces in the Turian military. This meant that after parental leave one of them had to retire from active combat to raise Tacticus, his father ended up volunteering for the job and took a position planning operations while his mother continued her active service. Since he was an only child Tacticus was given quite a bit of attention from his father which ended up shaping him into a shinning model of Turian selflessness. Though since his parents were both serving the military Tacticus never stayed on one planet or space station long. This meant he generally had few friends which he always knew he would have to leave behind, he never became very attached to them as a consequence. That changed however when his mother was injured during an operation and forced to retire from her active combat position. When Tacticus was given the news he was pulled out of his class. The young Tacticus was so distraught learning this he accidentally discovered his biotics. From that point on Tacticus isolated himself from others his age as he did not want to hurt them. His parents knew that this would force him into the Cabals when he turned 15 so they decided it was best to wait out the last few years and provide support as best they could.
When Tacticus was signing his life to the Hierarchy he was afraid of what his fellow soldiers would think of him in basic. He knew the stigma he was facing, after all his own parents didn't trust him when he first found out. While the following year was not as bad as he thought it would be it still left him alone whenever they were not doing exercises or general training. But when all of their assignments were being dolled out Tacticus was immediately assigned to the cabals. Thus began his grueling two years of training.
An odd thing happened though when he became apart of the all biotic strike force. He finally felt like he was home. Most people in the cabal he was assigned to had similar stories to his and it made Tacticus feel like he truly fit in somewhere. The companionship Tacticus built up with his Cabal through blood, sweat, and tears during their demanding endurance exercises and the fact that they were alone together made him become extremely close with his squad and vice versa. The squad spirit that was exemplified through their well oiled actions later in training was one of power and determination to assist the Hierarchy in any way possible.
Recently the squad was given a handler and moved to the outer reaches of colonized space. They are set to provide security in the Pylos Nebula and to deal with any more dangerous elements that always pop up on new colonies. Currently however they have been assigned to a ship that will act as their temporary home. |
1,377 | 30 | 17 | 739 | 6,473 | The estimated duration of the fight was extended by the use of biotics on both sides, as they were able to create biotic barriers to serve as cover in the largely open room. However, once hostiles engaged from the second level, the situation deteriorated rapidly. The allied soldiers on the far side of the room, unable to maneuver or escape, were being cut down from above. The diplomats who were too far from the door were mostly unprotected, though the enemy seemed to be attempting to capture, rather than kill them. Those closer to the door were also being targeted, though they had a greater chance of escape.
Avatar maintained suppressing fire as much as possible, along with a Turian who had taken cover on the opposite side of the door. However, after only a few moments, another, recognizably different group of five hostiles arrived on the second floor, opposite from the exit. Unlike most of the hostiles, they were uniformed, and filed into the room with much more coordinated precision than the local guards. At their head was the Asari Avatar saw in the lounge, who quickly instructed her soldiers to take up positions along the railings. Unlike the other local guards, who were acting without apparent central organization, the Asari’s team waited for her order, which came only an instant later.
“Lock it down!” The Asari shouted, her gaze fixed on the open door. Avatar directed its combat drone to harass the leader and, at the same time, opened fire with its shotgun. The range at which it was engaging did diminish the effective impact of the shotgun blasts by approximately 23%, but even so, it detected less instability in her barriers than it would have expected. As well, she spotted the holographic orb immediately and dispatched it with a brief blast of biotic energy, before it could enter the range of its primary attack.
The Asari’s soldiers were coordinated in their attack. As Avatar focused on their leader, the Batarian to her left fired a single shot from a high-powered rifle which found its mark on Avatar’s shields and depleted them immediately. The Geth was already ducking back into its cover position, but the Turian on the Asari’s right side had been ready to exploit the opportunity. He carried a semi-automatic marksman rifle, the first shot of which hit Avatar’s left side in a spot analogous to the abdomen. The round punched a hole roughly six centimeters in diameter through its platform, causing a momentary loss of power to its left leg that threw it off balance. It began to fall, but fortunately, its momentum caused it to fall back into cover.
Avatar’s damage control efforts were immediate. It rerouted power around the damaged area through secondary circuits to regain control of its leg, then isolated and cut off the damaged tubes which were leaking conductive fluid out of the breach. Its self-repair systems also went into effect, though it could not fully-repair the hole without doing so manually. Avatar was again in full-control of its platform by the time it hit the ground, and it was well within acceptable operational capacity, but for any allied forces or noncombatants to survive, the door would need to be locked down quickly. | Name: Avatar
Species: Geth
Age: 376 years since program’s creation
Gender: N/A
Weapons/Equipment:
-Geth Pulse Rifle v3
-Geth Plasma SMG v3
-A combat platform with greater capabilities than a standard Geth unit.
Skills and Abilities: Like most Geth, it is a tech expert with strong hacking capabilities. It has tech-based abilities (incinerate, cryo blast, etc) and is equipped with a tactical cloak. Its advanced mobile platform is quite durable. As its body is made from tough alloys with powerful synthetic muscles, it is capable of strength beyond that of an organic of similar size. It also has the accuracy and reaction time one would expect from an advanced machine.
Background: For most of Avatar’s existence, it was but a single Geth program, with little more than rudimentary instincts and completely reliant upon the presence of other Geth to attain intelligence. That, however, changed in the midst of the Reaper War. In the aftermath of the battle with the Creator fleet at Rannoch, all Geth were given Reaper upgrades that uplifted them to become true A.I. Avatar was given its name by a group of organics it fought alongside during the Battle of Earth, and decided to keep that name in order to facilitate easier communication with organics.
After the end of the war, Avatar filled many roles. At first most of the Geth’s efforts were on rebuilding what was lost at Rannoch and helping the Creators resettle on the homeworld. The efficiency of the Geth’s planning coupled with the eagerness of the Quarians to re-establish their home made the process rather quick. Avatar spent a few years inhabiting the suits of Creators, mimicking the effects of viruses to help them to rebuild their immune systems. Over time, cities were erected on the surface of Rannoch, and more and more Creators were able to live without their suits, though most still chose to wear them due to tradition.
Eventually, Avatar’s role shifted away from rebuilding and into security. Due to the weakened state of the galaxy in the years after the war, piracy and other forms of crime were becoming increasingly common. All Geth were capable of combat when installed in the correct platform, but Avatar had a desire to help, and through years of fighting, it had developed memory shortcuts in relation to combat that would make it more effective than programs that had not incorporated said shortcuts. Avatar has served ever since as a combat platform, patrolling sectors near the borders of Geth/Quarian space, and sometimes even in the territories of other species, when requested.
Most recently, Avatar has been assigned to accompany a group of Creators who have been tasked with preparing the way for the first Quarian settlements in the Pylos Nebula. Avatar’s assigned mission is to discuss Geth habitation of the planet with the locals and make other preparations for the Geth. Any Geth could perform that task, but due to the dangerous nature of the Attican Traverse, they felt it appropriate to send a combat platform for additional protection. |
1,378 | 30 | 18 | 2,328 | 1,041 | The moment the shooting started, Khel Zhar raised his omni tool and activated the shield boost program. Though his suits built in shields were quite powerful, being the only Krogan in his room would mean drawing a lot of fire (despite his reputation as generally being a non combatant). With that done, he spotted the nearest exit and broke into a lumbering run. It was no Battlemaster charge, but it was certainly not something any non-krogan would want to be in the path of... As a hapless Turian shooter discovered when he failed to get out of the way fast enough. Zhar lowered his shoulder and barged the man out of the way. The sound of armor buckling could be heard as he struck and when the man flew backwards and sideways out of the way, several bones could be heard snapping. He certainly wouldn’t be getting up.
Still, a lot of fire had been impacting on Zhar’s shield, and he knew it couldn’t last much longer. The door was close, but before he got to it, he ducked behind the nearest corner large enough to mostly conceal his bulk. He stood still for a few seconds, taking the time to mentally curse not remaining primarily in the information business. He would never have walked into this kind of trap one hundred years ago. But this was the price one paid for trying to help the galaxy. He checked his omni tool then, noting that his shields were at ninety percent now. Good enough. He peered out of cover with one eye, aiming his omni tool as he did so. Fire had mostly shifted onto the remaining uncovered targets, but a few rounds bounced off the wall next to him and his shield. He quickly spotted the shooter and hit him with an energy drain, siphoning the power straight to his own shields, temporarily overcharging them.
He then began moving as quickly as possible to the door. From there, he would head to where his ship was docked and get out of the system. He had a feeling this was all going to go downhill very quickly. He did not flee completely on reaching the door however. Taking cover by it, he triggered his omni tool’s minifacturing suite, ordering it to build a recon mine. A second later, it was ready, and he carefully aimed the tools launcher to land the mine behind a cluster of enemy troops. He detonated the weapon as soon as it was in place, the shaped charge wreaking havoc among the hostile forces. Moments after this, he had triggered tactical scan to make sure he wasn’t flanked, before proceeding to look for a way out of this mess. | Name: Khel Zhar
Species: Krogan
Age: 693
Gender: Male
Appearance: In many ways Zhar looks like a completely unremarkable everyday Krogan. He has no distinguishing marks, his eyes are a normal Krogan yellow, his skin is the tan color of a middle aged Krogan and his plates are a fairly common dull brown. However, unlike most Krogan, Zhar puts effort into maintaining the symmetry of his head plates and generally ensuring he doesn't look too rugged. He favors a black custom-made business suit of light and highly expensive material with a number of micro shield generators inconspicuously hidden beneath the fabric. He is well spoken and has a deep but smooth voice, somewhat uncharacteristic of a Krogan. The Reaper war has left him with scars he had managed to avoid before then. He has several gouges across his head plates and scar tissue on the left side of his neck and elsewhere on his body.
Weapons/Equipment:
Evolution of the Viper Sniper Rifle (Phasic Rounds/Tungsten Rounds)
Evolution of the Carnifex Heavy Pistol (Cryo Rounds)
Evolution of the Locust SMG (Cryo Rounds)
Shielded business suit
Krogan Heavy armor (on the rare occasion when he puts himself into a combat situation on purpose)
Omni Tool
Asari Frigate (custom refit)
Skills and Abilities:
Excellent business sense.
Energy Drain
Shield Boost
Recon Mine
Tactical Scan
Sticky Grenade
Background:
Khel Zhar’s history is a long and storied one. He was born on Tuchanka to clan Khel, and was raised there as a true Krogan, although rumour has it that he was never very good at being ‘true Krogan.’ Precise details of his escape from the blasted rock that is the Krogan homeworld are surprisingly hard to come by, and will not be detailed here, suffice it to say that he ended up on the Citadel at the age of seventy-two with no idea what to do with himself. He worked for thirty years as a mere janitor, unwilling to take jobs involving violence as his compatriots did, but unable to find anyone on the station willing to look past his lumbering exterior at the keen mind within.
Eventually, Zhar managed to find one of these people - a Volus named Colu Sen. Under the Volus’ tutelage, he learned of Galactic finance and economics, and while initially not as fast to learn and adapt as his Volus partner and teacher, his persistent nature quickly saw the two of them founding and operating a small Galactic Finance company. The pair continued to run this small business for sixty years, until Colu Sen, in his old age, inadvertently thrust the pair into the world of corporate espionage and the buying and selling of Information. Colu died shortly after that, though it is not public knowledge as to whether he was killed or not.
Zhar remained on the citadel maintaining the business the pair had set up for roughly one hundred years, keeping the original company alive while branching out into founding other small companies, often only to let them die once they’d recouped their costs. This period of time broadened and deepened Zhar’s understanding of the business world considerably, to the point where he has an almost innate feel for the fluctuations that normally make it so unpredictable. While no psychic, Zhar’s personal worth has skyrocketed due to well placed and well timed investments. Unfortunately, some of his investments eventually drew the attention of the wrong people, and after narrowly surviving a brazen attack on his Citadel apartment, Zhar liquidated all of his citadel holdings and moved to Illium. He planned to let his reputation on the Citadel fade for a few hundred years while his detractors died of old age.
Once on Illium, he founded the first iteration of his business in Nos Parnello, and while initially highly successful, its fortunes followed those of the city into ruin. Ever the entrepreneur, Zhar not only survived but flourished in the adversity, relocating to Nos Astra and riding the sudden wave of popularity the city received to make his company one of the foremost in its area on Illium. Altogether, his stay on Illium has lasted approximately two hundred years.
When the Reapers finally arrived, it came as a surprise to Zhar, but not for the reasons most found it surprising. He had certainly believed there was more to the Geth attack on the Citadel than met the eye, but he never anticipated the scale of the Reaper invasion. When his contacts in the Batarian Hegemony went dark, he immediately saw to preparing his own defenses, as well as coordinating Illium’s preparations.
When the Reapers finally reached the Crescent Nebula, Zhar, and Illium, were ready. Though technically an Asari colony, and under protection by the Asari fleet, Illium has always been a haven for the rich and scrupulous - people that, for all their normal inability to get along, have one thing in common - a burning sense of self preservation. When the entire upper class of Illium put its considerable financial might towards that goal, they were able to assemble a formidable resistance to the Reapers.
With this corporate might, Zhar and a number of other Illium businessmen and women were able to survive the Reaper invasion, holding out long enough for Shepard to finally defeat the Reapers.
Following the Reaper war, Zhar decided to reevaluate his business. With such significant damage done to his Illium holdings, once the heart of his current business, he chose to start anew. Rather than rebuild Illium, he chose to create a mobile center for business. Initially he started small, making his office out of a tiny room on an old light freighter that had been one of his backup escape methods. He scrounged together a small merchant fleet and immediately began using it to assist in relief efforts throughout Council space, though with a particular focus on Asari colonies and Thessia.
Rather than greedily extort colonial governments in need of aid, he instead charged only enough to keep the business running at a very small profit. Though some of his rivals and fellows questioned his sanity for such a seemingly selfless act, the more intelligent among them realized it was not selfless, simply the long game being played at its finest.
His goals at that point were to aid in the restoration of a galactic economy and ensure the Asari could retain a significant role in galactic politics in order to continue carrying out their role as diplomats and negotiators. All to ensure there would continue to be an ideal peacetime environment for him to continue his goal from before the Reaper war - living a comfortable life far from Krogan ideals.
In more recent decades, Zhar has turned to somewhat more profitable endeavors. Though he maintains the colony relief and supply business, he has gone back into Information brokering, which has allowed him to restore much of his personal wealth and keep his debt to the Shadow Broker satisfied.
He is currently involved in personally overseeing his company's efforts in the Pylos Nebula, observing primarily from his personal command ship, the refitted Asari frigate Prosperous Heart, from which he also simultaneously manages his intelligence network. |
1,379 | 30 | 19 | 739 | 6,473 | Avatar and Cactus
---
The last of those who were close to the door had fled, but over half of the diplomats were either dead or cut off from the exit, and the allied soldiers had fared no better. One of the Turians, who Avatar identified as a cabalist based on his use of biotic barriers, was attempting to interface with the door controls, presumably to lock down the exit. Avatar considered this to be inadvisable, considering that he was entirely exposed to enemy fire, especially from the second level. However, organics were prone to making rash decisions when placed in stressful situations.
As expected, now that there were few targets returning fire, the hostile team lead by the Asari shifted their focus to the cabalist. His barriers were depleted quickly by automatic fire from an assault rifle, followed by two shots to his back from a designated marksman rifle. His armor provided some protection, but the rifle was sufficiently high-powered to allow both shots penetrated into his body. Since Avatar was in cover on the opposite side of the same wall, it was in a position to attempt to render aid. Leaning out of cover, Avatar launched an incineration orb, but programmed it to detonate prematurely in mid-air to provide a momentary visual obstruction. At the same time, it reached through the open doorway and grabbed onto the cabalist's arm in an attempt to pull him to safety. He had fallen to the ground after being shot, and presently, Avatar did not possess enough data to determine if he had survived.
Tacticus hugging the doorway continued to fire out at the locals. There were so many bodies on the floor that he could see in the edges of his vision. It was just them and the ones that wanted to kill them now. He picked out a Human that was running at them with a shotgun and quickly began unloading into the charging attacker. He noticed he had adjusted all shielding to be forward facing as was evident from the massive blob of holographic orange that was in front of his body. The assailant now entered range and started firing and cocking back as fast as he could. Tacticus managed to fire six rounds all impacting in the chest before he was forced back into cover when his biotic barrier dropped.
He quickly managed to get another barrier up and continue firing. When he turned back out several machine pistol rounds were impacting into his chest which Tacticus then quickly added his own pistol too. The combined fire quickly dropped his barriers and he took several rounds before tripping into the pile of bodies. More rounds narrowly missed Tacticus and a few even hit the small of his forearm once again dropping his barrier. As he squeezed back into his crouching against the wall he looked over to his right where a Geth was now occupying the other cover. But there was something else, Sul on the ground next to him face down behind cover. Cactus quickly fumbled for his comms and called out. "Sul is down, Poria pull him out! We need a new exit plan, there is no way we're closing this door from here!"
Just then Sul started sliding back as blue tendril of energy grabbed onto him and began sliding him across the floor further into the corridor. Slightly panicked he looked over at the Geth. "Wouldn't happen to have any ideas would you?"
There was no audible response from Avatar. Instead, it went about immediately implementing a potential solution to the problem. There were still allies present in the room, but based on available data, the probability of successfully extracting them was negligible. However, locking the door now would improve the probability of survival for those who had already escaped.
Avatar shifted its shotgun to its left hand, then leaned around the corner and fired two shots into the door's control panel inside the room before quickly ducking back into cover. It was only exposed for 3.28 seconds, so its shields protected it from the few assault rifle rounds it had recieved. With the enemy's ability to interface with the door controls temporarily removed, Avatar simply pressed the button on their side of the door to close it normally. It was not locked down entirely, so it would not be difficult for the enemy to bypass the control console in order to open it, but that option would be more time consuming than taking an alternate path around the door, through a different hallway.
Those who had managed to escape to room had the potential to escape the station, but were still in considerable danger, Now that the door was closed, they needed to act quickly to develop an escape plan, something which Avatar had already dedicated some processes to determining. Firstly, it needed to determine the current state of allied forces, as the presence of wounded would alter how they could move through the station.
"It he alive?" Avatar asked simply to the cabal knelt over the Turian, Sul.
Sul coughed out "I'm go.." Before he started spitting out blood in a coughing spurt.
"Shut up before you hurt yourself more." Sura said as her omni-tool lit up and began applying medi-gel to Sul who had taken a few rounds in the back. While her Omni-tool delivered life saving aid to Sul she looked up at the Geth quickly and Tacticus. "Yeah he'll live, suprised we only took one casualty." Sul groaned as the omni-gel began to seep into his body."Keep your head down till we get out of here, that's an order." After helping Sul against a wall she quickly returned to the Turian and Geth."My name is Sura leader of the cabal on the station. Right now I'm sure as hell hoping there are more of you geth somewhere on the ship. Those locals are much better equiped than us and I assume you know no one can get contact to the outside. Right now though we need to figure out how to get word to the cruiser or we're all dead." Pausing for a second she looked back at all the terrified diplomats and security who had made it through."If you got any better ideas right now...uh geth I'm all ears. But for now I'm going to go and try to convince the humans to help us raid the stations communications room. Surely they wouldn't cut themselves off from the outside atleast completly anyways."
"I am the only Geth program assigned to these negotiations." Avatar answered. "I recommend we gather all surviving officers to develop a plan of escape. There is a 62% chance of hostile forces reaching us withing five minutes, increasing with time. We should act quickly."
With that Sura turned on to her heels and began her search for the Humans commander. Tacticus turned to the Geth. "Thanks for saving Sul back there. I don't know if he would have made it without you dragging his ass in. Oh and I'm Tacticus by the way, do... you have a name?"
"Acknowledged, I am Avatar." It answered as it started to scan the crowd for faces or uniforms that matched the files it had on record for officers.
Nodding to the less than talkative machine he saw the Human that was now attached to his cabal. After shaking off the severe feeling of deja vu he again turned back to the Geth. "We should probably go see what their planning." He said as he gestured with his arm towards Sura and the Human he had seen giving orders earlier, who were now talking.
Avatar joined the growing group of officers and other security personelle who were frantically attempting to create a plan of action. The Cabal, Sura, was suggesting that they search for a communications center, though Avatar did not find this to be the best option. The unarmed diplomats they would be escorting would drastically increase the difficulty of combat, so it calculated that going directly for an escape route would lead to the lowest probability of casualties. However, given how quickly hostiles were likely to arrive, Avatar concluded that it would be advantageous to select agree on a plan quickly, even if it was suboptimal, rather than deliberate for an extended time. It still intended to give its own suggestion, but would not attempt to defend it if there was strong enough opposition.
Activating its omni-tool, Avatar projected the scematics of the stock-variant of this station which it had downloaded earlier into an empty space between the group. "It is improbable that these schematics are entirely accurate since this station has been modified, but they can serve as an approximation for its layout. The presence of noncombatants among us will increase the difficulty of combat, so I recommend finding a mode of escape quickly, instead of pursuing other objectives. Leaving the station will allow us to contact our allies." It suggested. | Name: Avatar
Species: Geth
Age: 376 years since program’s creation
Gender: N/A
Weapons/Equipment:
-Geth Pulse Rifle v3
-Geth Plasma SMG v3
-A combat platform with greater capabilities than a standard Geth unit.
Skills and Abilities: Like most Geth, it is a tech expert with strong hacking capabilities. It has tech-based abilities (incinerate, cryo blast, etc) and is equipped with a tactical cloak. Its advanced mobile platform is quite durable. As its body is made from tough alloys with powerful synthetic muscles, it is capable of strength beyond that of an organic of similar size. It also has the accuracy and reaction time one would expect from an advanced machine.
Background: For most of Avatar’s existence, it was but a single Geth program, with little more than rudimentary instincts and completely reliant upon the presence of other Geth to attain intelligence. That, however, changed in the midst of the Reaper War. In the aftermath of the battle with the Creator fleet at Rannoch, all Geth were given Reaper upgrades that uplifted them to become true A.I. Avatar was given its name by a group of organics it fought alongside during the Battle of Earth, and decided to keep that name in order to facilitate easier communication with organics.
After the end of the war, Avatar filled many roles. At first most of the Geth’s efforts were on rebuilding what was lost at Rannoch and helping the Creators resettle on the homeworld. The efficiency of the Geth’s planning coupled with the eagerness of the Quarians to re-establish their home made the process rather quick. Avatar spent a few years inhabiting the suits of Creators, mimicking the effects of viruses to help them to rebuild their immune systems. Over time, cities were erected on the surface of Rannoch, and more and more Creators were able to live without their suits, though most still chose to wear them due to tradition.
Eventually, Avatar’s role shifted away from rebuilding and into security. Due to the weakened state of the galaxy in the years after the war, piracy and other forms of crime were becoming increasingly common. All Geth were capable of combat when installed in the correct platform, but Avatar had a desire to help, and through years of fighting, it had developed memory shortcuts in relation to combat that would make it more effective than programs that had not incorporated said shortcuts. Avatar has served ever since as a combat platform, patrolling sectors near the borders of Geth/Quarian space, and sometimes even in the territories of other species, when requested.
Most recently, Avatar has been assigned to accompany a group of Creators who have been tasked with preparing the way for the first Quarian settlements in the Pylos Nebula. Avatar’s assigned mission is to discuss Geth habitation of the planet with the locals and make other preparations for the Geth. Any Geth could perform that task, but due to the dangerous nature of the Attican Traverse, they felt it appropriate to send a combat platform for additional protection. |
1,380 | 30 | 20 | 799 | 7,421 | Voira and Raa
Voira crouched down in front of Raa as she suddenly paused mid sentence. "Raa. Raa what's the matter. Talk to u-" That's when the Quarian blurted out that she had been shot. The Asari looked down in surprise. "We have?" Sure enough, there was a bullet hole in her shoulder, and a small stream of blood coming from it. Of course, when you finally notice the injury is when the pain starts. The Asari gritted her teeth, bringing her main hand up to feel out the damage. When she brought it back, smearing her armor with even more blood, she noticed her hand had more blood than was strictly necessary. A brief examination showed that a bullet had gone through there too. Still, there wasn't any time to worry about her own injuries. Raa took precedent.
"It's not that bad." She said dismissively, waving her uninjured hand. "We'll deal with it properly later." She felt around and finally found something that would have to serve as a makeshift bandage. A blanket she had picked up earlier, intending to find its owner or at least someone who could find its owner faster than her before everything had gone to shit. Quickly she tied it into a makeshift bandage around her shoulder, stopping the bleeding as best she was able. "You sure you're fine? Nothing more than bruises?" Voira brought up her omni-tool, taping briefly away at it. "Take our Medi-gel, just in case. No buts. We'll be fine."
Under her helmet, Raa's face white color grew as she watched the purple blood trickle down her protector's arm until it was finally wrapped. When the blood was removed from sight, the spell it seemed to cast evaporated and her head tilted upward to study Voira’s reaction. She noted the asari’s teeth gritting causing Raa to inwardly flinch in guilt. If her protector hadn’t been busy getting her sorry butt out of there then the wound wouldn’t have happened and for a moment, the Quarian wished she never taken this job now. She swallowed the spit collecting in her mouth as she struggled to speak.
Her head shaking rapidly to both verbally and physically making her words clear. "No, really I’m fine. Honestly, but I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I should’ve done more…”
Raa cancelled the transferring of Omni-gel, having plenty of her own, and started to move on her own. She tried to ignore the subtle pain filling her skin’s surface, the darker bruises unseen, while she started to push herself upward. Carefully rising to her feet and mindful of her guardian's position, Raa managed to get upright without falling back down on her ass. However she failed to hide how much the event had rattled her because her body made minor trembling movements and threatened to make her crumble quickly.
"Other than minor scrapes and bruises naturally. I'm injecting antibodies through your suit into your body just to be safe. Next time, Voira, try to watch how roughly you handle her. Especially because I'm tried of her being manhandled by you and cleaning the mess up!" RK snapped suddenly, butting into the conversation between the pair.
Voira shook her head. "There was nothing you could have done. Some times it just happens in gunfights." She watched the Quarian with a worried look, easily seeing how rattled Raa was. She placed a gentle, not shot, hand on her ward's shoulder. "Sit down Raa. We'll be safe in here for a while yet, and you need to gather your strength. It'll be fine. We can rest, you can recover. Sit down. " She spoke cajolingly and softly.
She merely shrugged at RK's words. "Bullets were flying, and they were flying in her direction. Raa is no soldier, and she had froze," She smiled gently at Raa to take the sting out of her words, "so we got her moving. I'd rather she was bruised and you were angry than she was shot and we were panicking. Wouldn't you?"
"Correct. I would've siezed control over your firearm and shot the bastard myself if that happened." RK admitted, her words cold and blunt. She casted a brief look over the asari as she shrank her figure down to merely the bust, her expression still displaying a sour look.
Raa again shook her head no. "I'm fine, really."
She tried not to collapse when Voira placed her hand on her shoulder, her body screamed and fought to winch. Looking weak over some bruises were terrible while her friend was shot, still bleeding, felt awful to her. At hearing RK's comment, Raa shot her AI a sharp look only to hear Voira cast it off smoothly. Slightly surprised at the asari, she couldn't help but wonder why she treated the situation so lightly.
"What happened back there?" Raa couldn't help but ask, her eyes looked to Voira for the needed answers. Her body, unknowingly, had slumped back to her seated position giving into what her friend wanted. It took a moment to realize her heart had finally stopped beating against her ribs and her lungs had found a steady rhythm to pull in needed air. Shortly acknowledging her mistake, her head lowering and all she wanted to do was curl into a defensive ball, feeling like it was all she could do to make this terrible nightmare go away.
"Why did they do this?" She asked, more to herself then Voira.
Voira hid a smirk at Raa sitting down. She knew the Quarian was beat up and even felt slightly guilty about it. But right now all she cared about that Raa wasn't shot and would recover. She clenched her shot hand experimentally, wincing as she did so. It hurt like hell, but she could use it.
"It's relatively simple as to what actually happened." She said, applying Medi-gel to her hand, and shoulder, now that it looked like there was actual time to do that. "The local security tried to take all the diplomats hostage by sealing us in. Avatar saw one of them trying to do that and then took him out. There was a lot of suspicious activity before hand that made us nervous, so we put a barrier around you and then threw you out when shit hit the fan."
She shrugged at Raa's next question. "We can only guess. Bandits took over? They want independence? Control of the negotiations? Whatever the reason, it has to be something really good. The Council won't be pleased, when they find out." She tilted her head, listening outside. "Hmm. Gunfire has stopped. Probably a good sign."
"I don't know, I recall gun shots usually only stop when everyone's been pacified or dead..."Raa said in a timid tone, her voice muffled through the mask and her partly curled body. She wanted to vanish from this nightmare. Both her and Voira, walking up as if it was all a bad dream but she knew better. The pain was too real and it would've woken her up so it kept her wish from coming true.
RK noticed the shivering increasing and looked to Voira, her eyes gesturing to the damn asari to take are of the problem. Else she would and make the woman suffer later for failure.
The Asari holstered her pistol again not bothering to give a response, be it verbal or non-verbal, to the AI. She hugged Raa, gently so as not to aggravate her bruises. "We're so sorry you have to go through this Raa. We're gonna make it through this, we promise, and then we'll spend a long time doing something relaxing and safe. Like working on a ship. Or smoking a cigar. Perhaps both?" She let go of the Quarian, crouching down to look at her. "We know it hurts and you'd rather just stay here until it all blows over or we wake up. But we can't do that, not if we want to get off this station."
Raa nodded, her body winched for a moment and slowly melted into the comfort given by the touch. Her shakes faded while her mind collected itself, pushing past the fear once more. In reaction, her arms wrapped around Voira as to keep her from pulling away. When she finished her pep talk, Raa knew she had to let go when she felt Voira start to pull away. The quarian sighed at the lost of comfort but sat there listening, agreeing begrudgingly, to the common sense uttered by the asari. She couldn't hide forever despite how she wanted to.
"Alright, but promise me you won't take off. I worry about you."
The Asari stood again, reluctantly getting ready to make Raa move, casting another barrier over Raa as she smiled at the Quarian. "We won't take off or leave you. Promise. Stay close to us." With that, she drew her assault rifle and opened the door, warily sticking her head out. What she saw at first made her hopes for them escaping unscathed sink like a stone. There appeared to be a large group of turians and humans, discussing something. Luckily for all involved, before she started trying to sneak past and then shooting when someone inevitably saw them, Voira spotted Avatar. As the Geth appeared to be apart of the conversation rather than a prisoner, she relaxed, if only slightly. Still only keeping her head out, she called out to the group. "Hello down there! We're friends, not with the bastards who just tried to kill all of us, so please don't shoot us!"
Glancing back into the room she held a hand out to Raa. "Come on. Things just got a bit easier. We're going to yell at Avatar, by the way. We won't hit him, probably."
Raa's body made a gesture of relief, her breath sighing at things being easier now and Avatar's name. She had been worried, to a lesser degree, about the Geth. Partly worried he was killed during the assualt and she wouldn't get to meet him again. It never took long for Raa to bond to someone which made her easy to manipulate as well as most targetted for easy prey by thugs or bandits. It was habit she picked up thanks to the changes made within the several years since the Reaper Wars, making the race more trusting to outside help since the Geth's assistance.
She took Voira's hand with her own, allowing the woman to lead her outward into the crowd. Her nervousness returned among strangers and her fingers tightened about Voira, silently telling her anxiety in the matter. Unknown factors usually unsettled her, even being reasurred not everyone was out to get her, that made her side on the cautious route in interaction. Though some speices and beings, like the geth or other quarians, drew different reactions out of her. | Name: Raa’Kina (Raa for short)
Species: Quarian.
Age: 21
Gender: female
Appearance:
Raa’Kina, outside her suit, looks like most other Quarians her young age. She has the pale, humanoid figure with the bowed legs, three digit hands, and two toe feet, all of it standing at a total of 5’6” in height. Lean muscle and a subtle mix of curves grace her frame, including a modest bust, common in the fairer gender of her race. Under the mask, her face has soft, rounded features whenever she compares her own to her mother’s far more angular and mature ones. It seems her illuminating pupils tend to ooze empathy and scream naivety in every look, a trait she founds more annoying than elegant as some of her suitors put it. Two dark lines trace her neck front, branching off in the common found way, with two lines running from her slanted eyes to her hairline.
Though these traits are common, she also has her own personal design and choices in style that makes her stand out in her own right. Namely to give her more individuality compared to other Quarians her own age group. Her dark, raven black hair is cut short, shaggy with wavy bangs as its tossed naturally into a playful mess. Just at the nape of her neck is a single section left untouched and roped into a braid that reaches to the neck base, held together by wiring that holds personal value.
Weapons/Equipment:
Pistol- Basic and simple, she uses this to protect herself during her piligramage
Omnitool- Raa’Kina’s toy when she was younger was her omnitool, enjoying mathical algorithms to a streaming lines of data and much later became her must need item on her person at all times. It has both the most widely and common Quarian applications, alongside some of her personalized designed ones. One she’s very proud in is a navigation program that hasn’t failed her and was designed thanks to help from her human great aunt (adopted) Devryn.
AI- An artificial intelligence evolved from an older VI programming by her grandfather Pai’Seef. Since the Reaper War and the fact the AI had been helpful, her grandfather’s punishment was somewhat lighter than prewar times though he still willingly accepted it. Once known as Raa’Kina, the AI now goes by RK for short due to the two sharing a name. RK is blunt, logical yet has a sense Quarian nature to her interactions and expressions which makes it seem she is nothing more than another organic on the omnitool comm. Despite her emotional display in her visual, she can’t fully understand the emotions she shows or why they are appropriate for the occasion. Sometimes she can seem a bit insensitive or rude, her attitude designed by Pai’Seef and long since evolved into her own.
Skills and Abilities:
Software knowledge and talent- Raa’Kina is a logical, if cheerful individual, who is very talented in software area of technology. She can repair, rebuild, or salvage almost any sort of software there which makes sense why her homeworld believed she was a good choice for this mission. Sadly, like her grandfather who she inherited the talent from, her skills in actually building the machine is sadly is average compared to her software abilities.
Decent Shooter- Raa’Kina can and does practice the base marksman skills for her pistol, namely to prevent injuring someone who doesn’t deserve it. And that’s anyone who has the nerve to attack her or her allies. Sadly she’s not perfect in this skill and distance does tend to matter with her aim, the farther distance the target is from her location then the harder it is to hit it. However, she won’t shoot unless she’s got a high chance at hitting it.
Tech Powers
Basics:
Blow torch- basic engineer tool used for welding and cutting metals.
Scanner- determine flaws, damages, and other details on an inanimate object
Flashlight- enable to see in dark places
Dispenser- holds medi-gel and any converted omni-gel used for unlocking stubborn doors
Camera- able to take images and store them within her omnitool
Games unit- solution to boredom problems
Fash- able to cause a brief, overpowering flare of light that can blind surrounding enemies Duration: few seconds Recharge: 10 seconds
Hacking- able to jack into machines, doors, and even other omni-tools (later much harder)
Omni-blade- super heated, disposable blade used to peel off aged bolts
Sabotage: Overheats and disables weapons requiring the affected target to eject and reload their thermal clip before being able to use again. In addition, it can hack and turn hostile synthetics into allies.
Recharge Speed: 8 seconds or more (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Medium (target must be tagged/scanned before hand for hijacking a synthetic)
Target Number: 1
Dampener: Increases explosion radius of proximity mines, or like explosion items. It also shuts down both surrounding enemy tech and biotic abilities, temporary disabling a small group for a short time but at a high recharging time cost.
Recharge Speed: 40 seconds (3-4 posts estimated)
Range: Close (within eyesight)Target Number: small group (3-4)
Overload: Overloads electronics by creating a power surge and also stunning her enemies for a brief time. Effective against shields, barriers, and synthetics. Not nearly as effective on organics, if at all.
Recharge Speed: 8 or more seconds (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Close (within eyesight)
Target Number: 1
Tactical Cloaking: By reflecting and wrapping light about the user, it renders them invisible. Sight is the only sense affected as the user can still be smelt, heard and felt if she careless enough. Once hit, the shield shuts down and the user is revealed back to a visible status. This doesn’t protect the user besides hiding her from sight, still allowing her to be hurt or possibly killed on discovery.
Recharge Speed: 20 seconds (2-3 posts, estimated)
Range: N/A
Duration: Short period, mostly depending on skill/story need
Target Number: N/A
Background:
Raa’Kina was born from Xemel’Sinara vas Aerata and Terna’Welyxi nar Rannoch, she is the second child in her family to be born on the newly rebuilt homeworld. For the most part, she could say her life was pretty average throughout her childhood. There of course was the natural slight changes to her race’s culture and views toward the Geth, the Reaper War nearly ushered every living thing into extinction had managed at least one positive thing after costing so many their lives. According to the dwindling elders’ stories, much has changed compared to their time. Technology studied from the Reapers brought most races to equal grounds when it came to life quality, advancement, and more. The biggest achievement in the Quarians’ view was gaining their own planet again. After everything that happened, the tension between the Quarians and Geth seem like a faint, distant memory compared to the modern age she lived in. Now a days on her homeworld, one rarely walked out onto the street without seeing the two races mingling in the sun’s dense rays, making her recall her grandfather’s last recorded words that this was an event that should’ve happened long ago.
When Raa’Kina reflects on her past, she only has a few memories, both good and bad, that stick up in her mind. Nothing she feels is interesting compared to her grandfather Pai’Seef’s or grandaunt Devryn’s experiences while working at Farian’s Ship Repair in their younger years. However, they are very hard to forget.
The youngest she can recall is at seven years old, she learned how dangerous it was when she wasn’t aware of her surroundings. Faulty and experimental machinery, developed from the Reaper War data, had malfunctioned bring the massive thing crumbling down the distracted girl. Geth and several Quarians had been chatting nearby when one unit noticed the event. She was lucky to come off with just a scratch, one of the nearest Geth units immediately spurred into action and scooped her away from the crash zone before she was killed. It took several minutes for her to calm down, her mother finally peeling her off the machine, and held her close in a comforting embrace. The bad part was she never got to thank the Geth who saved her personally.
Later, at the age of ten, she met another who shared the same name as herself. A curious AI, created and stood side by side with her grandfather, contacted her during the funeral. She was shocked such a being knew her, let alone having the same name. Curiosity won out over her caution, like usual, causing the pair to get very acquainted with one another through the common link: Pai’Seef. She learned, even to this day, much about the relative she hadn’t much chance to know better from his adventures during employment under Nasyrius’ Barbacus crew employed by the Farian Ship Repair to the Reaper War defense, as well as his punishment for creating the AI. Though RK, as she is referred to now as, suffered no ill effects, she disagreed with Quarian government’s punishment despite it being lessened due to services rendered and lives saved by his actions.
Intrigued by RK’s stories, Raa’Kina’s first destination on her pilgrimage was right into the most likely still surviving member who served with her grandfather, the asari Noami’lie Tynci. During the Reaper invasion, the asari lost her company in damages when it came to defending the planet and afterwards went into bankruptcy which had caused great heartache in the end. The only thing she managed to keep was the Barbacus, an asari light freighter in the destiny class, modified by both Pai’Seef and Devryn. It was here she learned what happened to the rest, learning the hard truth of why Noami’lie had kept the starship. Though Nasyrius died during the War, the two ended up having a daughter together named Nyasea who surpisingly seemed to have taken many traits from her father causing the Quarian to bid them farewell at the end of her visit.
She continued her pilgrimage for the next few months before she ended up getting roped into a deal with five Turians, currently involved with the selling of high level software at an ideal price. At first, she thought would be ideal for back home without thinking why they would've sold it at half the normal credits, taking their explanation it was second hand and per-owned. Things went terribly wrong when the Turians started to become more touchy than she was comfortable with. She started to withdrew her interest and they didn't take kindly to that, one of them immediately closing their three fingered hand about her arm to pull her back. Naturally Raa'Kina panicked. She went for her pistol, but one had managed to get behind and prevent her from drawing it. RK was about to do something when suddenly two Turians dropped, including the one holding her, causing her to duck behind the nearest cover. It was her first time ever being in a live gunfight while quickly showed her lacking skills in the area resulting her in getting a minor injury. RK embarrassed her some by uttering out why it was a bad idea as she showed her lacking experience in the world, something she inwardly believes her casually brushing off the incident didn't help her case.
So, for a another few years both Voira and RK accompanied her, herstrong desire to gain a rich experience and more driving her onward, much like the Barbacus’ crew had. Among her travels she encountered various colonies, aiding in their survival with her talent, which expanded her knowledge about others outside Quarian. Often it was in exchange for credits, place to stay or even pay for her next trip out though to say it was completely safe was an understatement. Piracy and theft had became more common in the following years, even though the Reapers no longer was a common threat, which had force Raa’Kina to start keeping her pistol locked and ready at all times. She had a few close calls but thanks to RK, they managed to avoid trouble well enough.
A few weeks ago, RK had received a message that she had been contacted and hired for aiding the colonization of a planet within the Pylos Nebula, the first time in their long history. It was a chance to explore and possibly benefit her homeworld most of all. Though KR logically predicted the odds that something would go wrong against the right, the AI kept her mouth shut, hitching a ride with the gruff Voira and naive Quarian youth. |
1,381 | 30 | 21 | 1,445 | 9,375 | The chaos of the scene made things hard to figure out. He quickly recognized the uniform of the Cabalist, and focused fire at anything they were shooting at. Through, while he didn't want to admit it, he didn't exactly do a lot of fighting. Donny largely allowed the turians and the lone geth to deal with the assailants above while he tried to excuse himself by covering other parts of the hall. He debated setting up mines, but didn't. It was too dangerous and could potentially harm innocents then enemies. Soon the turians and the geth managed to get out and close the door, signalling to Donny a short moment of reprieve.
He didn't know how long he had so he contacted the rest of his team, Seraph first. She was the only one he knew who was with the ambassador when they left. There was a bit of lag at first, but eventually she picked up on her end. "Feather this is Dong, what's the situation? Over."
"Dong this is Feathers. The Ambassador ensured us an escape route with the shuttle we took to get here, however she suspects that the docks is under lock down. We believe there is a local control station that we could try to use to override the lock, but there is also a master control room somewhere within the ship. We can't do much if the master control room overrides everything we do, but we can at least try to liberate the docking bay. What is your status? Over."
Looking up at his rag tag group Donny really took in the kind of company he was now keeping. Before he was just a better-than-average human amongst really talented and skilled individuals. But now he was the only human amongst Turian botics, a geth, and soon after an Asari and Quarian. A moment of deja vu overcame him before he snapped back out of it. "I've been assigned to stay with a group of Turians, and we just acquired a Geth, Asari, and Quarian. Awaiting further orders. Over." Something caught Donny's eye when he saw the Asari, but he couldn't put his finger on it. She seemed injured however, and there were more pressing matters to attend to. The Geth, Avatar, projected a holographic map of the ship. Donny was confused about it at first so he pulled out his pamphlet and tried to get an idea of where they were at from it. That's when a message came through Donny's headset, this time from Alexander.
"This is Steak. Dong we need you to head over to the docking bay and help us secure the location. If you're still with those Turians, see if you can convince them to help. The shuttle can fit thirty passengers, so we might be able to bring them along if we can get the shuttle out of here. Over."
Dong tried to contact Alexander, but he wasn't opening up his line. He did hear faint gunshots in the background, but he wasn't sure where Alexander was. He might have already started to attack the docking bay, but surely they wouldn't start an attack without their full forces. Unless they were discovered. Coming to the realization that his team and Ambassador was in danger, Donny turned to the group gathered.
"Hey everyone, I just got some information from my crew. They're going to secure a shuttle in the docking area, but it's likely guarded. There's also a security station near we could use to get us to freedom, but the master control room might put a damper on those ideas. If we could meet up with my people, we could clear the docking bay, and if we have a tech specialist we could override the master control long enough to get everyone into the shuttle and get out of here. I know the way to the docking area... Sorta... But I know it's not too far!"
While he knew he had no authority over the group, Donny at least gave them a plan to try. Donny himself could see a lot of issues and mistakes that could happen, but it's not like he had any better ideas. And with a group like this, Donny felt confident that they could make it. Most of them anyways. He didn't want to think what happen if he's not like "most" of the survivors of this plan. | Name: Donny "Dong" Yang (Dong was the nickname he was given during training. It's on his dossier now)
Species: Human
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Weapons/Equipment:
Primary: Storm Shotgun I
Secondary: Kessler Pistol I
Explosive: Cain Trip Mine
Armor: Light Mercenary Armor IV
Supplementary: Military Grade Ariake Omnitool IV
Personal Effects: A tribal knife (Donny calls it "Grandpa's Knife")
Skills and Abilities: Donny is a well trained Vanguard for the System Alliance. He's put a lot of focus on honing his biotic powers, though he is also handy with a shotgun. He has access to Barriers, Biotic Charges, Nova, Pulls, Shockwaves, and keeps a good Fitness. He also makes use of Cyro Ammunition to immobilize his targets. When it comes to hand-to-hand combat Donny is also quite capable, augmenting his strength with his biotic powers as well as utilizing various melee weapons. He has a particular fondness for knives and axes.
Outside of combat however, Donny is a stickler for rules and laws. While he lacks the cunning to bend the laws like a lawyer, he could make for a decent officer of the law if he wasn't prone to acting on his own either. And while he follows the rules well enough, he has the sense and willingness to ignore them when necessity demands, as well as uphold them when he must.
Donny also has various skills in arts and crafts, largely stemming from his hobby developed during college. Donny also has skills playing the saxophone as he was once part of his highschool and college jazz club, though he hasn't really picked up the instrument since he joined Systems Alliance military.
Background: Donny had a legacy to uphold. A fairly minor one, all things considered, but for him and his family it was an important one. His grand father participated in the defense of Earth during the Reaper Wars, becoming one of the many heroes who were willing to lay they lives on the line to defend their home. He served as one of the men who volunteered themselves to stem back the tusk of reaper controlled minions, holding the line long enough not only to survive that nightmarish day, but to see the future that Commander Shepard had made for humanity.
After the war, Donny's grandfather quickly retired due to the massive PTSD he received. But he was able to recover long enough to have children. Donny's father was the youngest of four, and Donny himself the youngest of four children from him. From a young age, Donny's father was proud of his father's accomplishments as a soldier, but his grandfather refused to let his son join the System Alliance or the military. He didn't want his children to face the same thing he did. But even so, Donny's father did his best to uphold his father's legacy. And he did so by joining the Ariake Technology firm, which he was able to do thanks to the extensive network of friends and contacts he made during college. By the time Donny was ten years old, his father had managed to get himself to the position of manager.
The combination of his father's own wealth as well as the accomplishments of his grandfather made sure Donny was born with a silver spoon, but also underneath a huge shadow. Growing up, Donny was never really motivated to "Excel". He did live with the future expectation that he was going to take care of his parents, just as his own father took care of his grandfather and grandmother (In Donny's family, the youngest son takes care of the parents when they are too old to work for themselves), but as far as personal ambitions went, Donny was fairly simple minded. He enjoyed slacking off more than he enjoyed working, even when he only had to work with problems that were, all things considered, easy. He wasn't exactly spoiled, but that didn't mean he wasn't lazy when it came to work. he felt that it was more important to appeal to his family than it was to appeal to his education. But even so, he continued to disappoint.
Growing up Donny lived under the shadow of not only his father and grandfather, but by the rest of his family. His mother was much better at public relations than his own father was; while he could crunch numbers and make sure the deliveries happen on time, his mother was more-or-less leading the commercial and marketing division. Donny's older brother became a doctors who would work as an equal amongst the likes of salarians. His sister became a politician and potential candidate for Prosecutor General. Even Donny's little sister was going to be an aspiring artist, and was already part of a popular video game developer, publisher, and distribution company working as one of their magic graphic designers. As for Donny himself...
Donny lacked any aspiration but to hopefully be able to take care of his parents. Even when he had very little idea of "how" he was going to take care of them, considering that he never even bothered to learn the family business. He had very few accomplishments under his belt that wasn't dwarfed by the achievements of his siblings. His only true saving grace is the fact that out of the four siblings, he has the best relationship with his grandfather. Years after the reaper wars, Donny's grandfather, after the death of his wife and Donny's grandmother, lived the rest of his life making knives, much like the one he used in the reaper war. Donny was interested in his grandfather's hobby and learned much from him, listening to his stories and talking to him about current events. They compared Donny's naive interpretations to his grandfather's wizened experience. It was those time that Donny built the foundation of his childish ambitions. He wanted to become someone like his grandfather; a hero.
But Donny's own father wasn't quite so accepting to this idea. Largely due to the fact that his own grandfather did not allow him to become a soldier, he made Donny go to college to learn how to manage the business with Ariake Technologies. But Donny had no desire to maintain his studies at the college. He barely attended for more than a year before Donny flunked out. His father was enraged and demanded Donny to return to college, but by this point the young boy was now a young man. He had resigned from college to join the System Alliance, using his family's credentials to earn him a place amongst the military. Since than the relationship between Donny and his family had become strained, and he doesn't even know how his grandfather feels about this turn of events. But Donny had only one ambition, and for once, he wanted to feel like he was more than just their "son". He wanted to be great. He wanted to think that he was capable of more than just upholding a legacy, but making one himself.
Training with the System Alliance was certainly harder than college however. Donny was beaten, broken, and tossed aside (metaphorically speaking, but it happened literally a few times as well), but unlike in college Donny had the drive to continue onward. Basic training went by quickly but painfully. During that time he also discovered his latent biotic abilities. When Donny came to the realization of what he was capable of, he jumped on the opportunity without any forethought of what sort of pain he was going through. Since he lacked the conditioning from youth, the lessons he underwent to hone his biotic abilities were harsh and brutal, along with the standard course for his regular military training. It was not BAaT, but with how much damage Donny was doing to himself one would think they were bringing the practice back. But no, Donny simply allowed himself to suffer the pain and torment of his training to achieve his childhood ambition. His naive and thoughtless desire to become some concept of a "hero". But first he had to become a soldier.
Donny spent a good portion of his "Military Career" training, largely due to his lack of previous experience with his latent biotic powers. From the age 19 to 23, he spent drilling and honing his biotic abilities with military efficiency. He made very few friends, and those who did either dropped out or graduated due to having more innate abilities than he did. But he did not allow himself to quit. He felt that he had given up the only thing he had already. He had thrown away the honor of his family to pursue this desire of his, and he couldn't bare the thought of returning to them defeated. He'd sooner take his own life than to betray his ambitions. Within four years he was deemed competent enough to be allowed to officially serve as a System Alliance soldier.
It was a great moment for Donny, one of many he hopes to have in his life. To him, the door to being the hero he imagined that his grandfather had become was finally open to him. It was a road full of risk, failure, and disappointment. But for once Donny did not dwell on those negative aspects. He only saw what he could accomplish, and vowed to make good use of what he was now able to do.
It wasn't long before Donny was given his first assignment, and a fairly big one at that. He was to accompany a of soldiers with a System Alliance to provide military assets, along with protecting one of their diplomats on a new colony. Donny had never left Earth before, and now he was going to travel to the far reaches of the universe to find a new planet where he could potentially live. It was a big step for him. Big enough that, for once in the last four years, he contacted his family.
The first person he spoke to was his older brother. They had a fairly decent understanding of one another, brotherhood and all, which allowed him to get into contact with his sisters. His elder sister worried greatly for him due to her knowledge of the colony and warned Donny not to hurt their relationship with the alien colonist. His little sister was annoyingly casual about it, asking him to bring back souvenirs. But she also expressed the desire for him to come home, which he was able to pick up amongst her requests. Next was his mother, whom he barely was able to speak to due to the tears she was practically shedding through the phone. But she wanted to tell Donny that she forgave him for quitting college and that she would still love him regardless of what path in life he chose. His father was "Unavailable" at the time, though he didn't pry further to discover if he simply didn't want to talk to him or not. And than there was his grandfather.
Donny would have three days before he would board the ship that would take him to the new colony. Within those three days he visited his grandfather while the rest of the family was out. There he and Donny had a talk about the path he was on. His grandfather explained to him the horrors he faced before he even fought the Reapers. His time against a horde of krogan shocktroopers, the horrors of the heretic geth and their reaper-empowered servants, even the slaughter that happened when a thresher maw of all things made planetside right on top of an outpost he was stationed at. He warned Donny against joining the System Alliance and told him that he could pull some strings to get Donny to at least stay on Earth. But Donny told his grandfather that he was going to go. He was going to keep the promise he made to himself to be a hero, and he can't be one here. He had to go out into the world and be part of that change, not just wish and support it with words and ideals. His grandfather solemnly accepted this, knowing that his grandson was dead set. So he gave Donny something that would help him: his combat knife he used to great effect during the Reaper War. It was not a standard issue design, but rather made by Donny's own grandfather using military grade composite metals. A blade worthy of a the Spectres.
But that wasn't the only gift Donny would receive. The last day before he would leave to the new colony his father had delivered him a gift: An advanced suit of armor and an Omnitool, both from Ariake Technologies. There was no letter or message with them aside that it came form his father, but Donny understood why he gave him these things. He wanted his son to be alive. He wanted him to come home one day. Despite not being standard issue, Donny donned his father's armor and Omnitool, gathered his equipment, and took his first step off Earth and into the brave new world. |
1,382 | 30 | 22 | 2,025 | 3,680 | Voira let go of Raa for only a brief moment after Donny stopped speaking. She took one stride towards Avatar, clenched her fist, and then punched him in his lightbulb. "You son of a bitch!" She spat, ignoring all the weapons suddenly trained on her. "'Highly unlikely' you said! 'No reason to investigate' you said! All we wanted you to do was run their names and faces through your database! How hard was that? But noooo, you had to be worried that we might cause offense! We could have kept Raa from that entire fucking mess if you had just bothered to deal with our paranoid gut feelings!" She glanced at the human who had spoken, speaking with relative calm. "We believe Avatar is the best suited for this situation. He should know how to hack far quicker than any organic would be able to. We'll be able to help clear a path to the shuttle, if necessary. We want to get a fair shot at the bastards, when there isn't a bunch of people in the way." She smiled, slightly bloodthirstily. She didn't like the fact that anyone who had tried to hurt Raa had largely escaped her vengeance.
"You lead us to the docking bay, we'll keep Raa safe and help you shoot any of the bastards that get in our way, then we'll all get on the shuttle and get the hell out of dodge. You can contact the Turian military," She nodded towards the turians around her, "Avatar can contact the Council, and you all can bring a lot of people far more equipped to deal with this situation while Raa and us go to Illium to relax and not get shot at." She looked around expectantly. "Sound like a plan?" | Name: Voira Sirosi
Species: Asari
Age: 125
Gender: Female
Appearance: Voira
Voira is unnaturally tall for an Asari, standing at 6ft exactly. She attributes it to her father.
Weapons/Equipment:
-Thunder Assault Rifle
-Viper Shotgun
-Two Razer pistols
-Bottle of Ryncol
-Omni-tool, which she only uses for application and storage of her large supply of omni gel, and as a melee weapon in a pinch.
-Several different types of ammos (specifically, shredder rounds, Anti-armor rounds, poison rounds, and explosive rounds.)
Skills and Abilities:
-Powerful biotic. Due to rigorous training in biotic strength from her adoptive mother and the variety of skill sets she learned from her adoptive family, Voira is both a powerful biotic and a versatile one
-Skilled combatant. Another thing her adoptive mother and family’s insisted on. From a young age(50, to be exact) Voira had been trained in combat by all members.From the training of the Serrice Guard, to pirate combat, to Krogan battle training, Voira has been taught well.
-Field Medic. Voira is good at patching people up, if Omni-Gel isn’t on hand, especially during the heat of battle.
Background:
Voira knows firsthand what it’s like to lose everything in an instant. She was still a child at 48 years old when the Reapers finally made it to the Asari home world. She lost both her biological parents(A Krogan for her father) and her twin sister. That was the most devastating blow. While she had loved her parents, she had had a deep bond with her sister that was only increased by their biotic abilities. They could hear each other’s thoughts, feel what the other was feeling and were even referring to themselves in plural rather than singular. They were, in short, inseparable. Then the Reapers came, and Voira’s world was remade in fire and ash.
She doesn’t remember much of the actual event. Bits and pieces. She remembered panic, fear, running, hiding, praying to the Asari goddess, a collapsing building, and being trapped alone. Then there was a blinding red light, blistering pain, and a screaming in her head she thought would never stop.
She didn’t know how long it had been when she woke to the sounds of people arguing. Someone, with a deep gravelly voice, wanted to leave. Someone else wanted to stay and look for ‘the extraction target’ a little while longer. Other voices commented for or against the idea of leaving, but those were the ones Voira heard the most. She tried calling for help once. All that came out was a soft rasp. She tried twice, and winced at the pain in her throat. The voices sounded like they were going away, leaving. Panic filled her and Voira screamed for help. Pain wracked her body and she ended up coughing violently, tasting blood coughed up from her ravaged throat.
Despite the pain, her cry for helped work. Through the familiar and comforting blue glow of biotics, her tomb of rubble was removed. The first face she saw was an Asari, reaching down to haul her out. Voira sobbed in relief, wrapping her arms around the mercenary, pressing her face against the emblem on her chest. The other Asari’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close. The last thing Voira heard before falling back unconscious was, “We’re taking her with us.”
When Voira next awoke, she was on a strange ship, with the same Asari sitting next to her, quietly watching. After introductions were done and it was explained, where she was and that, that she wasn’t well enough to leave on her own, Voira slipped back into sleep. Almost Every time she woke up, Voira found Dahlia, as the Asari had introduced herself, sitting there. Sometimes she would look ragged, as if she had just come from a fight, but she would always be quietly there, waiting and watching over her. They would talk, quietly, and then Voira would grow tired again and slip back into sleep. It continued like this for an uncertain amount of time for Voira, before she was well enough to wander the ship on her own. The war had been won in her rest. The Reapers destroyed, the human Shepard dying to activate the Crucible. Voira didn’t care. It had finally hit her. Her family was dead, her other half killed by the burning beam of the Reapers. What did she have to live for?
Tevura caught her the first time. Biotics knocked the pistol from her hand and pinned her to the wall. Ignoring her screams of rage and curses, the mercenary commander merely looked at her with sad, understanding eyes. Various others stopped her next dozen tries. A Krogan, a human, another Asari, and a Quarian being the most frequent. Finally, Tevura’s eyes went from sad and understanding to hard and pitiless.
She told Voira, bluntly, that she was acting like a selfish child, that her family and least of all her twin wouldn’t want her killing herself needlessly, and if she felt like explaining to her family why she was so selfish as to join them before she had to die it was her choice. Before she exited the door she made one final comment. If Voira chose to live, Tevura would want to adopt her. She then left Voira with a pistol. For a long time Voira stayed in that room. Multiple times she almost did it. She put the gun to her head and nearly pulled the trigger. Finally, she put it down for good. Tevura was right, her family wouldn’t approve and she couldn’t tell if she was more afraid of their condemnation when she met them in whatever afterlife there was, or if the idea of ‘Embracing eternity’ permanently was what terrified her.
She walked out into the hallway, smiling slightly at the clear relief on Tevura’s face, and said she accepted. What followed next was decades of training by her new adoptive family. Over time she began to see them not as those who took her in and finally as her new family. Even Tasi, who scared her sometimes, she grew to love. She even met what she considered to be her extended family, that is, the surviving Barbacus crew. About thirty-five years ago, she hit the maiden stage and declared herself ready to go see what the universe had to offer. Tevura(who had told Voira her secrets long ago), agreed to let her go, but made sure she was prepared.
The next several decades were spent wandering, getting into adventures with mercenary groups and generally exploring the universe and what it had to offer. She never stayed in one place for very long, always moving on to see the next big thing the universe had. She hunted thresher maws with Krogans, fought(and was nearly killed by) a Drell assassin, and even charged into the teeth of a battalion of Elcor soldiers. However, the experience she remembers most fondly is when she met Raa’Kina.
The Quarian was trying to back out of a shady deal with five Turians who were rather…insistent that she pay them for services rendered, one way or another. When, after a comment by the Quarian, the Turians started getting a little too touchy with the Quarian Voira decided to intervene. Two of them were dead before they realized what was happening, and the rest were knocked over by a biotic blast while the Quarian rapidly backpedaled into cover. What happened next was a traditional firefight, with them both to busy concentrating on not dying to do introductions. After the remaining Turians were killed they introduced themselves. Raa’Kina was so naïve and cheerful and friendly that Voira couldn’t just leave her alone.
What started out as a simple escort to safer areas turned into, after some time talking to Raa’Kina, into a decision to not let the Quarian go on her own through her pilgrimage. At least for a little while.
She’s still following Raa.
Misc Details:
-Voira’s favored drink is Ryncol, a drink she picked up from her aunt Kalros.
-While on a trip to Earth with her uncle Dave, Voira picked up the habit of smoking. More specifically, Earth Cuban Cigars. She quit years ago, but she still carries around a pack of them. Not to smoke, but to chew on when she’s thinking hard or to smell to calm nerves.
-Voira still refers to herself in plural. I or me becomes we, mine becomes ours, etc. |
1,383 | 30 | 23 | 739 | 6,473 | Given that Avatar's platform felt no pain, had no pride, and had been entirely undamaged, it gave nothing in the way of a reaction to Voira. The only action it took was to modify its profile of her to include an anger management disorder and violent tendencies. As well, it made note of her seeming fixation on protecting Creator Raa'Kina.
As for their plan of action, Avatar quickly applied the new information given by the Human soldier, who a quick facial scan identified as Donny Yang, to its own projections of possible escapes. It seemed that the most of the surviving human forces, of which most of the allied security force consisted, had left without safeguarding the escape of other allied diplomats. Aside from the possible political ramifications of this action, it also meant that allied forces had been split into smaller groups which would be more difficult to evacuate unless they were able to reunite. Currently, there seemed to be four combat capable individuals in their group in addition to the Turian cabal, Donny Yang, Voira Sirosi, a Krogan it identified as Khel Zhar, and itself. There were only four diplomats which had survived an escaped with them: two Turians, one male and one female, an Asari, and Creator Raa'Kina.
"An alternative option would be to search for enemy shuttles in order to escape the station. There is approximately a 76% chance that hostile forces anticipate our return to the airlocks through which we arrived, so they will reinforce that area. Based on the schematics of this class of vessel, there are only two other possible locations for airlocks, which are located within close proximity of one another. I estimate this option to be 52% less hazardous; however, it would be more difficult to reunite with the Human forces who moved on ahead of us, and we would be unable to rescue the crew of the trapped shuttle. Although more dangerous, following Donny Yang's recommendation may allow us to save more lives." Avatar recommended.
At this point, the Turian male diplomat, a man named Tarak Sorinth, stepped forward, his expression showing a mix of anger and surprise. "Wait, the Humans left us? But they made up most of our security. You're telling me they just abandoned us? That Human diplomat, I know I saw her running. They just went off to protect her, didn't they? We...should just take the safe option and get out of here. Why should we save them after they left us like that?" | Name: Avatar
Species: Geth
Age: 376 years since program’s creation
Gender: N/A
Weapons/Equipment:
-Geth Pulse Rifle v3
-Geth Plasma SMG v3
-A combat platform with greater capabilities than a standard Geth unit.
Skills and Abilities: Like most Geth, it is a tech expert with strong hacking capabilities. It has tech-based abilities (incinerate, cryo blast, etc) and is equipped with a tactical cloak. Its advanced mobile platform is quite durable. As its body is made from tough alloys with powerful synthetic muscles, it is capable of strength beyond that of an organic of similar size. It also has the accuracy and reaction time one would expect from an advanced machine.
Background: For most of Avatar’s existence, it was but a single Geth program, with little more than rudimentary instincts and completely reliant upon the presence of other Geth to attain intelligence. That, however, changed in the midst of the Reaper War. In the aftermath of the battle with the Creator fleet at Rannoch, all Geth were given Reaper upgrades that uplifted them to become true A.I. Avatar was given its name by a group of organics it fought alongside during the Battle of Earth, and decided to keep that name in order to facilitate easier communication with organics.
After the end of the war, Avatar filled many roles. At first most of the Geth’s efforts were on rebuilding what was lost at Rannoch and helping the Creators resettle on the homeworld. The efficiency of the Geth’s planning coupled with the eagerness of the Quarians to re-establish their home made the process rather quick. Avatar spent a few years inhabiting the suits of Creators, mimicking the effects of viruses to help them to rebuild their immune systems. Over time, cities were erected on the surface of Rannoch, and more and more Creators were able to live without their suits, though most still chose to wear them due to tradition.
Eventually, Avatar’s role shifted away from rebuilding and into security. Due to the weakened state of the galaxy in the years after the war, piracy and other forms of crime were becoming increasingly common. All Geth were capable of combat when installed in the correct platform, but Avatar had a desire to help, and through years of fighting, it had developed memory shortcuts in relation to combat that would make it more effective than programs that had not incorporated said shortcuts. Avatar has served ever since as a combat platform, patrolling sectors near the borders of Geth/Quarian space, and sometimes even in the territories of other species, when requested.
Most recently, Avatar has been assigned to accompany a group of Creators who have been tasked with preparing the way for the first Quarian settlements in the Pylos Nebula. Avatar’s assigned mission is to discuss Geth habitation of the planet with the locals and make other preparations for the Geth. Any Geth could perform that task, but due to the dangerous nature of the Attican Traverse, they felt it appropriate to send a combat platform for additional protection. |
1,384 | 30 | 24 | 799 | 7,421 | Raa hadn’t expected Voira’s reaction. That point was clear in when her body stopped in her tracks abruptly, her body flinched at the fist impacting the Geth’s faceplate and her hands jerked up to her face mask. Her eyes widened underneath her face mask as she watched her friend hit the Geth, hard. Several weapons drew upon Voira causing Raa’s heart to race within her chest and her breath held deep within, her words cried out in shock. “Voira! Stop, it’s not Avatar’s fault.”
Instinctively she reached out and placed her hand on Voira, likely to stop her from landing another hit while her guardian screamed at the Geth’s platform in fury. Trying to calm her friend down, Raa barely heard the human reporting through his earpiece to only what she could assume was his superiors. Or when he tried to collect their attention for options.
At the man's words, Voira immediately settled down to reply to him. For a moment Raa stood there shocked and looked to Avatar, questioning his thoughts as her guardian made choices for her. The Quarian found it hard to decide which choice was best as she thought about what both the human and Avatar said, her eyes darted around the current group that far smaller than the earlier one. Their numbers dwindled down.
After Avatar’s options were presented in usual Geth fashion, she was about to voice her thought before she was interrupted by a Turian diplomate. Tarak Sorinth moved in from behind her causing Raa to shift to the side, allowing him through to speak his thoughts. Naturally they made her uncomfortable as she shuffled in place, bring her closer to Voira instinctively. At the Turian’s bitterment she couldn’t help speaking up at his words.
“We can’t just leave the Humans to fend for themselves and to get slaughtered.” Raa blurted out against the diplomat's comment. “There has to be another way.”
Voira’s first responsibly was her after all, and her asari friend would pick her over others all the time. She could only guess these humans had done the very same thing.
RK piped in before the diplomat considered getting snippy with Raa’s words, her image appearing from the head to the shoulders. “The choice we make now reflects on us later in the future. I wonder how that looks if the local papers discovered a diplomat valued his own life over others. Would his reputation survive the slander? Raa, speak your thoughts cause I know you have something in mind after that little comment.”
Raa took a deep breath. Her next comment was a faint hope to take everyone’s mind off the VI’s brashness to the Turian and lessen the sting when she turned to the human, a male and the one who gave the best option in Avatar’s view. “Avatar might be ideal, though I can hack just as easily with RK and likely know the systems better. Though I doubt Voira will allow me to willingly put myself into danger but I don’t like Avatar going alone. If he gets damaged enough, that will delay us far longer. A danger we can’t afford.”
She looked at Voira and added. “What if you go with Avatar to keep him from getting shot? I’ll stay here with the diplomats and stay safe. The other option is I end up going to hack the systems myself and increase my risk of being shot, despite you being around. I don’t like either option really as with the shuttle as we’re condemning those left behind to die, but going after them could end up shedding blood with our already small group.”
An idea popped into her head when she glanced to Avatar. “I just hope the systems are as old as I suspect. RK and I can download a virus that could affect the security cameras for while, making anyone using them essentially blind to our activities. Though I need to get to a nearby security station to deploy it because just any terminal won’t work. Instead the virus would have to filter through the whole ship and that could take precious time for it to actually hit what it’s suppose to. Time we don’t have.” | Name: Raa’Kina (Raa for short)
Species: Quarian.
Age: 21
Gender: female
Appearance:
Raa’Kina, outside her suit, looks like most other Quarians her young age. She has the pale, humanoid figure with the bowed legs, three digit hands, and two toe feet, all of it standing at a total of 5’6” in height. Lean muscle and a subtle mix of curves grace her frame, including a modest bust, common in the fairer gender of her race. Under the mask, her face has soft, rounded features whenever she compares her own to her mother’s far more angular and mature ones. It seems her illuminating pupils tend to ooze empathy and scream naivety in every look, a trait she founds more annoying than elegant as some of her suitors put it. Two dark lines trace her neck front, branching off in the common found way, with two lines running from her slanted eyes to her hairline.
Though these traits are common, she also has her own personal design and choices in style that makes her stand out in her own right. Namely to give her more individuality compared to other Quarians her own age group. Her dark, raven black hair is cut short, shaggy with wavy bangs as its tossed naturally into a playful mess. Just at the nape of her neck is a single section left untouched and roped into a braid that reaches to the neck base, held together by wiring that holds personal value.
Weapons/Equipment:
Pistol- Basic and simple, she uses this to protect herself during her piligramage
Omnitool- Raa’Kina’s toy when she was younger was her omnitool, enjoying mathical algorithms to a streaming lines of data and much later became her must need item on her person at all times. It has both the most widely and common Quarian applications, alongside some of her personalized designed ones. One she’s very proud in is a navigation program that hasn’t failed her and was designed thanks to help from her human great aunt (adopted) Devryn.
AI- An artificial intelligence evolved from an older VI programming by her grandfather Pai’Seef. Since the Reaper War and the fact the AI had been helpful, her grandfather’s punishment was somewhat lighter than prewar times though he still willingly accepted it. Once known as Raa’Kina, the AI now goes by RK for short due to the two sharing a name. RK is blunt, logical yet has a sense Quarian nature to her interactions and expressions which makes it seem she is nothing more than another organic on the omnitool comm. Despite her emotional display in her visual, she can’t fully understand the emotions she shows or why they are appropriate for the occasion. Sometimes she can seem a bit insensitive or rude, her attitude designed by Pai’Seef and long since evolved into her own.
Skills and Abilities:
Software knowledge and talent- Raa’Kina is a logical, if cheerful individual, who is very talented in software area of technology. She can repair, rebuild, or salvage almost any sort of software there which makes sense why her homeworld believed she was a good choice for this mission. Sadly, like her grandfather who she inherited the talent from, her skills in actually building the machine is sadly is average compared to her software abilities.
Decent Shooter- Raa’Kina can and does practice the base marksman skills for her pistol, namely to prevent injuring someone who doesn’t deserve it. And that’s anyone who has the nerve to attack her or her allies. Sadly she’s not perfect in this skill and distance does tend to matter with her aim, the farther distance the target is from her location then the harder it is to hit it. However, she won’t shoot unless she’s got a high chance at hitting it.
Tech Powers
Basics:
Blow torch- basic engineer tool used for welding and cutting metals.
Scanner- determine flaws, damages, and other details on an inanimate object
Flashlight- enable to see in dark places
Dispenser- holds medi-gel and any converted omni-gel used for unlocking stubborn doors
Camera- able to take images and store them within her omnitool
Games unit- solution to boredom problems
Fash- able to cause a brief, overpowering flare of light that can blind surrounding enemies Duration: few seconds Recharge: 10 seconds
Hacking- able to jack into machines, doors, and even other omni-tools (later much harder)
Omni-blade- super heated, disposable blade used to peel off aged bolts
Sabotage: Overheats and disables weapons requiring the affected target to eject and reload their thermal clip before being able to use again. In addition, it can hack and turn hostile synthetics into allies.
Recharge Speed: 8 seconds or more (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Medium (target must be tagged/scanned before hand for hijacking a synthetic)
Target Number: 1
Dampener: Increases explosion radius of proximity mines, or like explosion items. It also shuts down both surrounding enemy tech and biotic abilities, temporary disabling a small group for a short time but at a high recharging time cost.
Recharge Speed: 40 seconds (3-4 posts estimated)
Range: Close (within eyesight)Target Number: small group (3-4)
Overload: Overloads electronics by creating a power surge and also stunning her enemies for a brief time. Effective against shields, barriers, and synthetics. Not nearly as effective on organics, if at all.
Recharge Speed: 8 or more seconds (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Close (within eyesight)
Target Number: 1
Tactical Cloaking: By reflecting and wrapping light about the user, it renders them invisible. Sight is the only sense affected as the user can still be smelt, heard and felt if she careless enough. Once hit, the shield shuts down and the user is revealed back to a visible status. This doesn’t protect the user besides hiding her from sight, still allowing her to be hurt or possibly killed on discovery.
Recharge Speed: 20 seconds (2-3 posts, estimated)
Range: N/A
Duration: Short period, mostly depending on skill/story need
Target Number: N/A
Background:
Raa’Kina was born from Xemel’Sinara vas Aerata and Terna’Welyxi nar Rannoch, she is the second child in her family to be born on the newly rebuilt homeworld. For the most part, she could say her life was pretty average throughout her childhood. There of course was the natural slight changes to her race’s culture and views toward the Geth, the Reaper War nearly ushered every living thing into extinction had managed at least one positive thing after costing so many their lives. According to the dwindling elders’ stories, much has changed compared to their time. Technology studied from the Reapers brought most races to equal grounds when it came to life quality, advancement, and more. The biggest achievement in the Quarians’ view was gaining their own planet again. After everything that happened, the tension between the Quarians and Geth seem like a faint, distant memory compared to the modern age she lived in. Now a days on her homeworld, one rarely walked out onto the street without seeing the two races mingling in the sun’s dense rays, making her recall her grandfather’s last recorded words that this was an event that should’ve happened long ago.
When Raa’Kina reflects on her past, she only has a few memories, both good and bad, that stick up in her mind. Nothing she feels is interesting compared to her grandfather Pai’Seef’s or grandaunt Devryn’s experiences while working at Farian’s Ship Repair in their younger years. However, they are very hard to forget.
The youngest she can recall is at seven years old, she learned how dangerous it was when she wasn’t aware of her surroundings. Faulty and experimental machinery, developed from the Reaper War data, had malfunctioned bring the massive thing crumbling down the distracted girl. Geth and several Quarians had been chatting nearby when one unit noticed the event. She was lucky to come off with just a scratch, one of the nearest Geth units immediately spurred into action and scooped her away from the crash zone before she was killed. It took several minutes for her to calm down, her mother finally peeling her off the machine, and held her close in a comforting embrace. The bad part was she never got to thank the Geth who saved her personally.
Later, at the age of ten, she met another who shared the same name as herself. A curious AI, created and stood side by side with her grandfather, contacted her during the funeral. She was shocked such a being knew her, let alone having the same name. Curiosity won out over her caution, like usual, causing the pair to get very acquainted with one another through the common link: Pai’Seef. She learned, even to this day, much about the relative she hadn’t much chance to know better from his adventures during employment under Nasyrius’ Barbacus crew employed by the Farian Ship Repair to the Reaper War defense, as well as his punishment for creating the AI. Though RK, as she is referred to now as, suffered no ill effects, she disagreed with Quarian government’s punishment despite it being lessened due to services rendered and lives saved by his actions.
Intrigued by RK’s stories, Raa’Kina’s first destination on her pilgrimage was right into the most likely still surviving member who served with her grandfather, the asari Noami’lie Tynci. During the Reaper invasion, the asari lost her company in damages when it came to defending the planet and afterwards went into bankruptcy which had caused great heartache in the end. The only thing she managed to keep was the Barbacus, an asari light freighter in the destiny class, modified by both Pai’Seef and Devryn. It was here she learned what happened to the rest, learning the hard truth of why Noami’lie had kept the starship. Though Nasyrius died during the War, the two ended up having a daughter together named Nyasea who surpisingly seemed to have taken many traits from her father causing the Quarian to bid them farewell at the end of her visit.
She continued her pilgrimage for the next few months before she ended up getting roped into a deal with five Turians, currently involved with the selling of high level software at an ideal price. At first, she thought would be ideal for back home without thinking why they would've sold it at half the normal credits, taking their explanation it was second hand and per-owned. Things went terribly wrong when the Turians started to become more touchy than she was comfortable with. She started to withdrew her interest and they didn't take kindly to that, one of them immediately closing their three fingered hand about her arm to pull her back. Naturally Raa'Kina panicked. She went for her pistol, but one had managed to get behind and prevent her from drawing it. RK was about to do something when suddenly two Turians dropped, including the one holding her, causing her to duck behind the nearest cover. It was her first time ever being in a live gunfight while quickly showed her lacking skills in the area resulting her in getting a minor injury. RK embarrassed her some by uttering out why it was a bad idea as she showed her lacking experience in the world, something she inwardly believes her casually brushing off the incident didn't help her case.
So, for a another few years both Voira and RK accompanied her, herstrong desire to gain a rich experience and more driving her onward, much like the Barbacus’ crew had. Among her travels she encountered various colonies, aiding in their survival with her talent, which expanded her knowledge about others outside Quarian. Often it was in exchange for credits, place to stay or even pay for her next trip out though to say it was completely safe was an understatement. Piracy and theft had became more common in the following years, even though the Reapers no longer was a common threat, which had force Raa’Kina to start keeping her pistol locked and ready at all times. She had a few close calls but thanks to RK, they managed to avoid trouble well enough.
A few weeks ago, RK had received a message that she had been contacted and hired for aiding the colonization of a planet within the Pylos Nebula, the first time in their long history. It was a chance to explore and possibly benefit her homeworld most of all. Though KR logically predicted the odds that something would go wrong against the right, the AI kept her mouth shut, hitching a ride with the gruff Voira and naive Quarian youth. |
1,385 | 30 | 25 | 507 | 626 | Tacticus was incredibly confused by the events that followed. First the Humans ditched them, then the Asari went berserk causing the Cabal to draw their firearms, then the AI began yelling at his diplomat. As the yelling began to stop Tacticus lowered his weapon but kept it in hand. But then their diplomat fired back his own words. "You would lecture me about leaving behind others to save my own skin? The Humans just did that! They willingly left us here to fend for ourselves! We stayed behind to help everyone history would look rather kindly on us.."
"Sir I would recommend..." Sura tried to stop the diplomat from going off on the Quarian even though he did have a point.
"...And lastly whoever decided to unban your ilk and produc.." The diplomat stopped when Sura put a hand on his shoulder.
More sternly this time Sura said "Sir." The Turian turned to her and growled briefly then threw up his hands and walked back over to the other diplomats knowing that arguing wasn't going to help the situation. She then turned back to the Asari and the Quarian. "Look if you absolutely must go after those...Humans you can, I'll loan you two of my guys if you must. But I cannot ask all the diplomats to unnecessarily risk their lives to go after them, it wouldn't be fair or right." She turned around quickly looking to her men all braced against the wall near the diplomats. "Numso Cactus, on the hop you're going human hunting."
Cactus and Numso exchanged looks and went up to either side of Sura. "We'll stick around for a bit before we try for the other transports." Sura said slightly hesitant of letting two more Cabalists go on what would probably be a suicide mission.
Tacticus thought this was a really dumb idea considering they were asking for it when they decided to ditch the group but there was no way he was going to argue with Sura. She was giving an order, Turians don't question orders. He looked at the Human Donny for a moment as if for a moment all this was his fault. He quickly pushed that out of his head and looked back to the group. "Well guess we're saving their hides." | Name: Tacticus Agnom
Nickname: Cactus
Species: Turian
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Stands at just over six feet.
Weapons/Equipment:
M-37 Tempest Submachine gun
K-22 Ursus Heavy pistol
Reinforced Gauntlets & gloves
Skills and Abilities:
Rookie - Tacticus has not participated in any combat against real hostiles. While he has been extensively trained and there are several veterans on the team, there is no true substitute to the real thing. This also lends itself to his biotics skills being limited aswell.
Cabalist - At 15 when Tacticus joined the Turian military he was immediately separated from his classmen and put into a Cabal training program. Among biotic training Tacticus was also given heavily specialized training as a shock troop, meaning he is skilled with pistols, explosives, and infiltration.
Combat Biotic - Tacticus's biotics are strong enough for his abilities to be used as weapons on their own. Most of his abilties are focused on augmenting his own body for the time being. Though his manipulation of mass effect fields beyond his own body are limited he only needs his hands to punch a hole through most people and objects.
Pilot - As part of his training in the Cabal he is rated to pilot most vehicles if need be.
Background: Tacticus was born to 40 year old parents both of whom were special forces in the Turian military. This meant that after parental leave one of them had to retire from active combat to raise Tacticus, his father ended up volunteering for the job and took a position planning operations while his mother continued her active service. Since he was an only child Tacticus was given quite a bit of attention from his father which ended up shaping him into a shinning model of Turian selflessness. Though since his parents were both serving the military Tacticus never stayed on one planet or space station long. This meant he generally had few friends which he always knew he would have to leave behind, he never became very attached to them as a consequence. That changed however when his mother was injured during an operation and forced to retire from her active combat position. When Tacticus was given the news he was pulled out of his class. The young Tacticus was so distraught learning this he accidentally discovered his biotics. From that point on Tacticus isolated himself from others his age as he did not want to hurt them. His parents knew that this would force him into the Cabals when he turned 15 so they decided it was best to wait out the last few years and provide support as best they could.
When Tacticus was signing his life to the Hierarchy he was afraid of what his fellow soldiers would think of him in basic. He knew the stigma he was facing, after all his own parents didn't trust him when he first found out. While the following year was not as bad as he thought it would be it still left him alone whenever they were not doing exercises or general training. But when all of their assignments were being dolled out Tacticus was immediately assigned to the cabals. Thus began his grueling two years of training.
An odd thing happened though when he became apart of the all biotic strike force. He finally felt like he was home. Most people in the cabal he was assigned to had similar stories to his and it made Tacticus feel like he truly fit in somewhere. The companionship Tacticus built up with his Cabal through blood, sweat, and tears during their demanding endurance exercises and the fact that they were alone together made him become extremely close with his squad and vice versa. The squad spirit that was exemplified through their well oiled actions later in training was one of power and determination to assist the Hierarchy in any way possible.
Recently the squad was given a handler and moved to the outer reaches of colonized space. They are set to provide security in the Pylos Nebula and to deal with any more dangerous elements that always pop up on new colonies. Currently however they have been assigned to a ship that will act as their temporary home. |
1,386 | 30 | 26 | 739 | 6,473 | Warning: this course of action is not recommended. Avatar said as Sura was giving her orders. To illustrate its next point, it highlighted in red on the schematics it was projecting the hallways which could connect to their current location from the room in which they had been ambushed. "This location is not secure, and it is improbable that we will find a secure location for civilians to wait. Hostile forces may converge on our location through any of these pathways within a minimum of 5.2 minutes. Additionally, I do not recommend dividing our combat-able forces. Since the local representatives agreed to allow security teams to carry weapons, it is probable that the enemy smuggled board the station a force of sufficient size to overwhelm our security forces, so heavy resistance is likely. If we divide our forces, it will increase the likelihood of complete mission failure by approximately 86%."
Pausing for another moment, Avatar highlighted several other pathways on the projection. Those leading to the airlocks and the human forces were highlighted in green, while those leading to the potential locations of enemy shuttles were highlighted in blue. Additionally, pathways that passed through security stations were highlighted in yellow. "We may join with Human forces and attempt to rescue and board their shuttle, or search one of these two locations for enemy shuttles to capture. However, attempting both options is not recommended. There are security stations in both directions we may attempt to access which could improve the probability of success, but will increase our time on the station." | Name: Avatar
Species: Geth
Age: 376 years since program’s creation
Gender: N/A
Weapons/Equipment:
-Geth Pulse Rifle v3
-Geth Plasma SMG v3
-A combat platform with greater capabilities than a standard Geth unit.
Skills and Abilities: Like most Geth, it is a tech expert with strong hacking capabilities. It has tech-based abilities (incinerate, cryo blast, etc) and is equipped with a tactical cloak. Its advanced mobile platform is quite durable. As its body is made from tough alloys with powerful synthetic muscles, it is capable of strength beyond that of an organic of similar size. It also has the accuracy and reaction time one would expect from an advanced machine.
Background: For most of Avatar’s existence, it was but a single Geth program, with little more than rudimentary instincts and completely reliant upon the presence of other Geth to attain intelligence. That, however, changed in the midst of the Reaper War. In the aftermath of the battle with the Creator fleet at Rannoch, all Geth were given Reaper upgrades that uplifted them to become true A.I. Avatar was given its name by a group of organics it fought alongside during the Battle of Earth, and decided to keep that name in order to facilitate easier communication with organics.
After the end of the war, Avatar filled many roles. At first most of the Geth’s efforts were on rebuilding what was lost at Rannoch and helping the Creators resettle on the homeworld. The efficiency of the Geth’s planning coupled with the eagerness of the Quarians to re-establish their home made the process rather quick. Avatar spent a few years inhabiting the suits of Creators, mimicking the effects of viruses to help them to rebuild their immune systems. Over time, cities were erected on the surface of Rannoch, and more and more Creators were able to live without their suits, though most still chose to wear them due to tradition.
Eventually, Avatar’s role shifted away from rebuilding and into security. Due to the weakened state of the galaxy in the years after the war, piracy and other forms of crime were becoming increasingly common. All Geth were capable of combat when installed in the correct platform, but Avatar had a desire to help, and through years of fighting, it had developed memory shortcuts in relation to combat that would make it more effective than programs that had not incorporated said shortcuts. Avatar has served ever since as a combat platform, patrolling sectors near the borders of Geth/Quarian space, and sometimes even in the territories of other species, when requested.
Most recently, Avatar has been assigned to accompany a group of Creators who have been tasked with preparing the way for the first Quarian settlements in the Pylos Nebula. Avatar’s assigned mission is to discuss Geth habitation of the planet with the locals and make other preparations for the Geth. Any Geth could perform that task, but due to the dangerous nature of the Attican Traverse, they felt it appropriate to send a combat platform for additional protection. |
1,387 | 30 | 27 | 2,025 | 3,680 | Voira's looked at Raa wearily as she made clear her position on the 'take the safe route and some people we don't even know die or take the dangerous route to save some strangers' decision. But she didn't protest against it, simply shrugging and adding her own two cents. "We agree with Raa." She didn't like it, but she knew there wasn't any way she was getting Raa to go along with the sensible plan. Especially not now. Her eyes watched the Turian diplomat carefully. She didn't care if he was in an argument with RK, the AI had a tendency to piss off most people she could talk to, but Voira had seen how some people consider Raa just another version of the AI and got angry with the Quarian. If the diplomat was like that, things would get very bad, very quickly. Fortunately for all involved, the diplomat was sent away before he could. As the Geth went against the idea, Voira spoke up again.
"We have to agree with Avatar. Splitting our forces is a bad idea. We could, and gladly would, kill as many possible with the forces we have. But if you and the diplomats meet resistance, you'll be outgunned and when we get to the hanger, we'll be outgunned. Especially since I'm protecting the Geth." She stared pointedly at Raa. "We don't like this. But you won't accept anything else, so we're doing it, reluctantly. Stay out of danger or we will abandon him." She glanced back at Avatar. "No offense. Do you have the details of where Raa can upload her virus to make things a bit easier on us? We'd rather not have their reinforcements be breathing down our necks the instant we walk into the hangar." | Name: Voira Sirosi
Species: Asari
Age: 125
Gender: Female
Appearance: Voira
Voira is unnaturally tall for an Asari, standing at 6ft exactly. She attributes it to her father.
Weapons/Equipment:
-Thunder Assault Rifle
-Viper Shotgun
-Two Razer pistols
-Bottle of Ryncol
-Omni-tool, which she only uses for application and storage of her large supply of omni gel, and as a melee weapon in a pinch.
-Several different types of ammos (specifically, shredder rounds, Anti-armor rounds, poison rounds, and explosive rounds.)
Skills and Abilities:
-Powerful biotic. Due to rigorous training in biotic strength from her adoptive mother and the variety of skill sets she learned from her adoptive family, Voira is both a powerful biotic and a versatile one
-Skilled combatant. Another thing her adoptive mother and family’s insisted on. From a young age(50, to be exact) Voira had been trained in combat by all members.From the training of the Serrice Guard, to pirate combat, to Krogan battle training, Voira has been taught well.
-Field Medic. Voira is good at patching people up, if Omni-Gel isn’t on hand, especially during the heat of battle.
Background:
Voira knows firsthand what it’s like to lose everything in an instant. She was still a child at 48 years old when the Reapers finally made it to the Asari home world. She lost both her biological parents(A Krogan for her father) and her twin sister. That was the most devastating blow. While she had loved her parents, she had had a deep bond with her sister that was only increased by their biotic abilities. They could hear each other’s thoughts, feel what the other was feeling and were even referring to themselves in plural rather than singular. They were, in short, inseparable. Then the Reapers came, and Voira’s world was remade in fire and ash.
She doesn’t remember much of the actual event. Bits and pieces. She remembered panic, fear, running, hiding, praying to the Asari goddess, a collapsing building, and being trapped alone. Then there was a blinding red light, blistering pain, and a screaming in her head she thought would never stop.
She didn’t know how long it had been when she woke to the sounds of people arguing. Someone, with a deep gravelly voice, wanted to leave. Someone else wanted to stay and look for ‘the extraction target’ a little while longer. Other voices commented for or against the idea of leaving, but those were the ones Voira heard the most. She tried calling for help once. All that came out was a soft rasp. She tried twice, and winced at the pain in her throat. The voices sounded like they were going away, leaving. Panic filled her and Voira screamed for help. Pain wracked her body and she ended up coughing violently, tasting blood coughed up from her ravaged throat.
Despite the pain, her cry for helped work. Through the familiar and comforting blue glow of biotics, her tomb of rubble was removed. The first face she saw was an Asari, reaching down to haul her out. Voira sobbed in relief, wrapping her arms around the mercenary, pressing her face against the emblem on her chest. The other Asari’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close. The last thing Voira heard before falling back unconscious was, “We’re taking her with us.”
When Voira next awoke, she was on a strange ship, with the same Asari sitting next to her, quietly watching. After introductions were done and it was explained, where she was and that, that she wasn’t well enough to leave on her own, Voira slipped back into sleep. Almost Every time she woke up, Voira found Dahlia, as the Asari had introduced herself, sitting there. Sometimes she would look ragged, as if she had just come from a fight, but she would always be quietly there, waiting and watching over her. They would talk, quietly, and then Voira would grow tired again and slip back into sleep. It continued like this for an uncertain amount of time for Voira, before she was well enough to wander the ship on her own. The war had been won in her rest. The Reapers destroyed, the human Shepard dying to activate the Crucible. Voira didn’t care. It had finally hit her. Her family was dead, her other half killed by the burning beam of the Reapers. What did she have to live for?
Tevura caught her the first time. Biotics knocked the pistol from her hand and pinned her to the wall. Ignoring her screams of rage and curses, the mercenary commander merely looked at her with sad, understanding eyes. Various others stopped her next dozen tries. A Krogan, a human, another Asari, and a Quarian being the most frequent. Finally, Tevura’s eyes went from sad and understanding to hard and pitiless.
She told Voira, bluntly, that she was acting like a selfish child, that her family and least of all her twin wouldn’t want her killing herself needlessly, and if she felt like explaining to her family why she was so selfish as to join them before she had to die it was her choice. Before she exited the door she made one final comment. If Voira chose to live, Tevura would want to adopt her. She then left Voira with a pistol. For a long time Voira stayed in that room. Multiple times she almost did it. She put the gun to her head and nearly pulled the trigger. Finally, she put it down for good. Tevura was right, her family wouldn’t approve and she couldn’t tell if she was more afraid of their condemnation when she met them in whatever afterlife there was, or if the idea of ‘Embracing eternity’ permanently was what terrified her.
She walked out into the hallway, smiling slightly at the clear relief on Tevura’s face, and said she accepted. What followed next was decades of training by her new adoptive family. Over time she began to see them not as those who took her in and finally as her new family. Even Tasi, who scared her sometimes, she grew to love. She even met what she considered to be her extended family, that is, the surviving Barbacus crew. About thirty-five years ago, she hit the maiden stage and declared herself ready to go see what the universe had to offer. Tevura(who had told Voira her secrets long ago), agreed to let her go, but made sure she was prepared.
The next several decades were spent wandering, getting into adventures with mercenary groups and generally exploring the universe and what it had to offer. She never stayed in one place for very long, always moving on to see the next big thing the universe had. She hunted thresher maws with Krogans, fought(and was nearly killed by) a Drell assassin, and even charged into the teeth of a battalion of Elcor soldiers. However, the experience she remembers most fondly is when she met Raa’Kina.
The Quarian was trying to back out of a shady deal with five Turians who were rather…insistent that she pay them for services rendered, one way or another. When, after a comment by the Quarian, the Turians started getting a little too touchy with the Quarian Voira decided to intervene. Two of them were dead before they realized what was happening, and the rest were knocked over by a biotic blast while the Quarian rapidly backpedaled into cover. What happened next was a traditional firefight, with them both to busy concentrating on not dying to do introductions. After the remaining Turians were killed they introduced themselves. Raa’Kina was so naïve and cheerful and friendly that Voira couldn’t just leave her alone.
What started out as a simple escort to safer areas turned into, after some time talking to Raa’Kina, into a decision to not let the Quarian go on her own through her pilgrimage. At least for a little while.
She’s still following Raa.
Misc Details:
-Voira’s favored drink is Ryncol, a drink she picked up from her aunt Kalros.
-While on a trip to Earth with her uncle Dave, Voira picked up the habit of smoking. More specifically, Earth Cuban Cigars. She quit years ago, but she still carries around a pack of them. Not to smoke, but to chew on when she’s thinking hard or to smell to calm nerves.
-Voira still refers to herself in plural. I or me becomes we, mine becomes ours, etc. |
1,388 | 30 | 28 | 1,445 | 9,375 | Donny let the others debate amongst themselves about what the best course of action would be. He was tempted to talk back to the diplomat, but than memories of his lessons in dealing with civvies came to mind. While no doubt the diplomat was important, he was still a non-combatant and should not be involved in anymore fighting then necessary. Donny wasn't sure how this might apply to turians, but he figured that the diplomat didn't want to get into a firefight anyways, turian or not.
Soon the Quarian and Asari, Raa and Voira respectively, spoke their thoughts. Donny was one of the few who didn't draw his gun when Voira punched the geth, but only because Donny wasn't certain what was going on. Evidently Voira felt this was Avatar's fault which made Donny think: Could he have some involvement? But those thoughts were quietly put aside. "I need to focus on getting out of here first. We can solve this mystery once I don't have to worry about bullets getting into my head." One of the turians, likely the captain of the bunch, mentioned not wanting to get their VIPs in any danger themselves. She was at least willing to leave behind two of her soldiers behind, the familiar looking turian named Cactus and an unfamiliar one named Numso. Donny felt uneasy losing such a large number of guns, but he supposed that it wasn't just Eleanore that needed saving. Though he was certain they would have better success working together than separately. The geth and Voira spoke what Donny thought.
"And also..." Donny spoke out rather meekly. He felt so out of place, and it just suddenly dawned onto him how much was on his shoulders. He had no idea how his people were handling the hanger area, or if they were even alive. What if they needed him minutes ago, while he wasted time talking? The pressure was great, but all he could do was clench his fists and speak his thoughts. "We should go. If what the geth said is true, we have little time to debate. All I can say is this: I have no idea how you hack a ship, but I know that we have a shuttle in the hanger we could get into and get out of here ASAP. And unless you have one ready too, I doubt we have time to "Capture" one and get it ready to fly. The shuttle we took could fit thirty; more than enough for all of us including my team. We get on that shuttle, we get out of here, and once we're in safe hands we can figure out what happened and do something about it."
To punctuate his point, Donny tapped his armor and his helmet came over his face. He was going to get ready to fight, because now there wasn't much left to say. "I heard gunshots on the other side of the comms. For all I know they're dying right now. I'm sorry, but I have to go help them. Please, follow me!" Drawing his shotgun and gripping his knife, Donny turned around to leave. He walked at a brisk pace, careful so he doesn't walk into an ambush, but quick enough that he would hopefully arrive to the aid of his allies before it was too late. He'd like to have stayed and formed a plan a bit longer, but if the geth said they had about five minutes before they would get swarmed, than they needed to get there in four minutes. | Name: Donny "Dong" Yang (Dong was the nickname he was given during training. It's on his dossier now)
Species: Human
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Weapons/Equipment:
Primary: Storm Shotgun I
Secondary: Kessler Pistol I
Explosive: Cain Trip Mine
Armor: Light Mercenary Armor IV
Supplementary: Military Grade Ariake Omnitool IV
Personal Effects: A tribal knife (Donny calls it "Grandpa's Knife")
Skills and Abilities: Donny is a well trained Vanguard for the System Alliance. He's put a lot of focus on honing his biotic powers, though he is also handy with a shotgun. He has access to Barriers, Biotic Charges, Nova, Pulls, Shockwaves, and keeps a good Fitness. He also makes use of Cyro Ammunition to immobilize his targets. When it comes to hand-to-hand combat Donny is also quite capable, augmenting his strength with his biotic powers as well as utilizing various melee weapons. He has a particular fondness for knives and axes.
Outside of combat however, Donny is a stickler for rules and laws. While he lacks the cunning to bend the laws like a lawyer, he could make for a decent officer of the law if he wasn't prone to acting on his own either. And while he follows the rules well enough, he has the sense and willingness to ignore them when necessity demands, as well as uphold them when he must.
Donny also has various skills in arts and crafts, largely stemming from his hobby developed during college. Donny also has skills playing the saxophone as he was once part of his highschool and college jazz club, though he hasn't really picked up the instrument since he joined Systems Alliance military.
Background: Donny had a legacy to uphold. A fairly minor one, all things considered, but for him and his family it was an important one. His grand father participated in the defense of Earth during the Reaper Wars, becoming one of the many heroes who were willing to lay they lives on the line to defend their home. He served as one of the men who volunteered themselves to stem back the tusk of reaper controlled minions, holding the line long enough not only to survive that nightmarish day, but to see the future that Commander Shepard had made for humanity.
After the war, Donny's grandfather quickly retired due to the massive PTSD he received. But he was able to recover long enough to have children. Donny's father was the youngest of four, and Donny himself the youngest of four children from him. From a young age, Donny's father was proud of his father's accomplishments as a soldier, but his grandfather refused to let his son join the System Alliance or the military. He didn't want his children to face the same thing he did. But even so, Donny's father did his best to uphold his father's legacy. And he did so by joining the Ariake Technology firm, which he was able to do thanks to the extensive network of friends and contacts he made during college. By the time Donny was ten years old, his father had managed to get himself to the position of manager.
The combination of his father's own wealth as well as the accomplishments of his grandfather made sure Donny was born with a silver spoon, but also underneath a huge shadow. Growing up, Donny was never really motivated to "Excel". He did live with the future expectation that he was going to take care of his parents, just as his own father took care of his grandfather and grandmother (In Donny's family, the youngest son takes care of the parents when they are too old to work for themselves), but as far as personal ambitions went, Donny was fairly simple minded. He enjoyed slacking off more than he enjoyed working, even when he only had to work with problems that were, all things considered, easy. He wasn't exactly spoiled, but that didn't mean he wasn't lazy when it came to work. he felt that it was more important to appeal to his family than it was to appeal to his education. But even so, he continued to disappoint.
Growing up Donny lived under the shadow of not only his father and grandfather, but by the rest of his family. His mother was much better at public relations than his own father was; while he could crunch numbers and make sure the deliveries happen on time, his mother was more-or-less leading the commercial and marketing division. Donny's older brother became a doctors who would work as an equal amongst the likes of salarians. His sister became a politician and potential candidate for Prosecutor General. Even Donny's little sister was going to be an aspiring artist, and was already part of a popular video game developer, publisher, and distribution company working as one of their magic graphic designers. As for Donny himself...
Donny lacked any aspiration but to hopefully be able to take care of his parents. Even when he had very little idea of "how" he was going to take care of them, considering that he never even bothered to learn the family business. He had very few accomplishments under his belt that wasn't dwarfed by the achievements of his siblings. His only true saving grace is the fact that out of the four siblings, he has the best relationship with his grandfather. Years after the reaper wars, Donny's grandfather, after the death of his wife and Donny's grandmother, lived the rest of his life making knives, much like the one he used in the reaper war. Donny was interested in his grandfather's hobby and learned much from him, listening to his stories and talking to him about current events. They compared Donny's naive interpretations to his grandfather's wizened experience. It was those time that Donny built the foundation of his childish ambitions. He wanted to become someone like his grandfather; a hero.
But Donny's own father wasn't quite so accepting to this idea. Largely due to the fact that his own grandfather did not allow him to become a soldier, he made Donny go to college to learn how to manage the business with Ariake Technologies. But Donny had no desire to maintain his studies at the college. He barely attended for more than a year before Donny flunked out. His father was enraged and demanded Donny to return to college, but by this point the young boy was now a young man. He had resigned from college to join the System Alliance, using his family's credentials to earn him a place amongst the military. Since than the relationship between Donny and his family had become strained, and he doesn't even know how his grandfather feels about this turn of events. But Donny had only one ambition, and for once, he wanted to feel like he was more than just their "son". He wanted to be great. He wanted to think that he was capable of more than just upholding a legacy, but making one himself.
Training with the System Alliance was certainly harder than college however. Donny was beaten, broken, and tossed aside (metaphorically speaking, but it happened literally a few times as well), but unlike in college Donny had the drive to continue onward. Basic training went by quickly but painfully. During that time he also discovered his latent biotic abilities. When Donny came to the realization of what he was capable of, he jumped on the opportunity without any forethought of what sort of pain he was going through. Since he lacked the conditioning from youth, the lessons he underwent to hone his biotic abilities were harsh and brutal, along with the standard course for his regular military training. It was not BAaT, but with how much damage Donny was doing to himself one would think they were bringing the practice back. But no, Donny simply allowed himself to suffer the pain and torment of his training to achieve his childhood ambition. His naive and thoughtless desire to become some concept of a "hero". But first he had to become a soldier.
Donny spent a good portion of his "Military Career" training, largely due to his lack of previous experience with his latent biotic powers. From the age 19 to 23, he spent drilling and honing his biotic abilities with military efficiency. He made very few friends, and those who did either dropped out or graduated due to having more innate abilities than he did. But he did not allow himself to quit. He felt that he had given up the only thing he had already. He had thrown away the honor of his family to pursue this desire of his, and he couldn't bare the thought of returning to them defeated. He'd sooner take his own life than to betray his ambitions. Within four years he was deemed competent enough to be allowed to officially serve as a System Alliance soldier.
It was a great moment for Donny, one of many he hopes to have in his life. To him, the door to being the hero he imagined that his grandfather had become was finally open to him. It was a road full of risk, failure, and disappointment. But for once Donny did not dwell on those negative aspects. He only saw what he could accomplish, and vowed to make good use of what he was now able to do.
It wasn't long before Donny was given his first assignment, and a fairly big one at that. He was to accompany a of soldiers with a System Alliance to provide military assets, along with protecting one of their diplomats on a new colony. Donny had never left Earth before, and now he was going to travel to the far reaches of the universe to find a new planet where he could potentially live. It was a big step for him. Big enough that, for once in the last four years, he contacted his family.
The first person he spoke to was his older brother. They had a fairly decent understanding of one another, brotherhood and all, which allowed him to get into contact with his sisters. His elder sister worried greatly for him due to her knowledge of the colony and warned Donny not to hurt their relationship with the alien colonist. His little sister was annoyingly casual about it, asking him to bring back souvenirs. But she also expressed the desire for him to come home, which he was able to pick up amongst her requests. Next was his mother, whom he barely was able to speak to due to the tears she was practically shedding through the phone. But she wanted to tell Donny that she forgave him for quitting college and that she would still love him regardless of what path in life he chose. His father was "Unavailable" at the time, though he didn't pry further to discover if he simply didn't want to talk to him or not. And than there was his grandfather.
Donny would have three days before he would board the ship that would take him to the new colony. Within those three days he visited his grandfather while the rest of the family was out. There he and Donny had a talk about the path he was on. His grandfather explained to him the horrors he faced before he even fought the Reapers. His time against a horde of krogan shocktroopers, the horrors of the heretic geth and their reaper-empowered servants, even the slaughter that happened when a thresher maw of all things made planetside right on top of an outpost he was stationed at. He warned Donny against joining the System Alliance and told him that he could pull some strings to get Donny to at least stay on Earth. But Donny told his grandfather that he was going to go. He was going to keep the promise he made to himself to be a hero, and he can't be one here. He had to go out into the world and be part of that change, not just wish and support it with words and ideals. His grandfather solemnly accepted this, knowing that his grandson was dead set. So he gave Donny something that would help him: his combat knife he used to great effect during the Reaper War. It was not a standard issue design, but rather made by Donny's own grandfather using military grade composite metals. A blade worthy of a the Spectres.
But that wasn't the only gift Donny would receive. The last day before he would leave to the new colony his father had delivered him a gift: An advanced suit of armor and an Omnitool, both from Ariake Technologies. There was no letter or message with them aside that it came form his father, but Donny understood why he gave him these things. He wanted his son to be alive. He wanted him to come home one day. Despite not being standard issue, Donny donned his father's armor and Omnitool, gathered his equipment, and took his first step off Earth and into the brave new world. |
1,389 | 30 | 29 | 799 | 7,421 | Raa wasn’t surprised by the reaction the diplomate gave. In fact she was bracing to be the one he was going to be yelling directly at, her eyes closed and body tensed, forced to stand and take the verbal beating. It wasn’t the first time. Many aliens and humans assumed because RK was her VI, she was the creator. By default this made her responsible for much of what came out of the VI’s digital lips, most of it degrading and hurtful words. It rarely occurred to many races that RK was her own individual. Though the virtual intelligence’s voice was more snarky than yelling, the Turian immediately jumped on the comments. His first reaction was to defend himself.
Raa flinched as if he had hit her directly.
RK merely shrugged it off believing she was in the right and noting the other cabalist trying to calm him down. It didn’t seem to ever bother when organics lost their tempers and in fact. On the contrary, she found it more amusing than anything. Her head gave a cocky and sarcastic gesture that she didn't care. The only visible sign she was unfazed by his display.
Raa, however, took a small stepped toward her protector. Her eyes wary and unsettled as she noted Voira glaring at him, ready to do something. It wasn't until the Turian in charge spoke to them and seemed to dictate their rescue attempts suicide, giving them only two men and stated their names which brought them forward.
Raa nodded though she didn't like the fact they were splitting up and as Avatar mentioned, lowering their success. She noticed the look one of the turians flashed Donny, a blame she knew well after RK pissed off some people off.
She held tightly to her friend. It didn't surprise her Voira accepted her choice, she was too tender hearted to leave people to die and they both knew it. Her ears tuned out the rest of the conversation when Voira stared point blank at her causing the Quarian to brace herself for a small lecture. Then turned to Avatar for more details.
The human, his hands no longer busy with collecting information, spoke rather abruptly to push for his option. One which many agreed to take, his voice turned inward and drew more empathy from her. It wasn't easy she knew waiting for a decision to be made. However, when he finished he tapped on his helmet then twisted about to leave.
"Wait, stop. Don't go alone at least!" Raa shouted, moving faster than Voira expected. She easily evade the Asari's attempt to stop her when she took off after Donny, willingly putting herself at risk.
She couldn't let him just toss his life away after all. | Name: Raa’Kina (Raa for short)
Species: Quarian.
Age: 21
Gender: female
Appearance:
Raa’Kina, outside her suit, looks like most other Quarians her young age. She has the pale, humanoid figure with the bowed legs, three digit hands, and two toe feet, all of it standing at a total of 5’6” in height. Lean muscle and a subtle mix of curves grace her frame, including a modest bust, common in the fairer gender of her race. Under the mask, her face has soft, rounded features whenever she compares her own to her mother’s far more angular and mature ones. It seems her illuminating pupils tend to ooze empathy and scream naivety in every look, a trait she founds more annoying than elegant as some of her suitors put it. Two dark lines trace her neck front, branching off in the common found way, with two lines running from her slanted eyes to her hairline.
Though these traits are common, she also has her own personal design and choices in style that makes her stand out in her own right. Namely to give her more individuality compared to other Quarians her own age group. Her dark, raven black hair is cut short, shaggy with wavy bangs as its tossed naturally into a playful mess. Just at the nape of her neck is a single section left untouched and roped into a braid that reaches to the neck base, held together by wiring that holds personal value.
Weapons/Equipment:
Pistol- Basic and simple, she uses this to protect herself during her piligramage
Omnitool- Raa’Kina’s toy when she was younger was her omnitool, enjoying mathical algorithms to a streaming lines of data and much later became her must need item on her person at all times. It has both the most widely and common Quarian applications, alongside some of her personalized designed ones. One she’s very proud in is a navigation program that hasn’t failed her and was designed thanks to help from her human great aunt (adopted) Devryn.
AI- An artificial intelligence evolved from an older VI programming by her grandfather Pai’Seef. Since the Reaper War and the fact the AI had been helpful, her grandfather’s punishment was somewhat lighter than prewar times though he still willingly accepted it. Once known as Raa’Kina, the AI now goes by RK for short due to the two sharing a name. RK is blunt, logical yet has a sense Quarian nature to her interactions and expressions which makes it seem she is nothing more than another organic on the omnitool comm. Despite her emotional display in her visual, she can’t fully understand the emotions she shows or why they are appropriate for the occasion. Sometimes she can seem a bit insensitive or rude, her attitude designed by Pai’Seef and long since evolved into her own.
Skills and Abilities:
Software knowledge and talent- Raa’Kina is a logical, if cheerful individual, who is very talented in software area of technology. She can repair, rebuild, or salvage almost any sort of software there which makes sense why her homeworld believed she was a good choice for this mission. Sadly, like her grandfather who she inherited the talent from, her skills in actually building the machine is sadly is average compared to her software abilities.
Decent Shooter- Raa’Kina can and does practice the base marksman skills for her pistol, namely to prevent injuring someone who doesn’t deserve it. And that’s anyone who has the nerve to attack her or her allies. Sadly she’s not perfect in this skill and distance does tend to matter with her aim, the farther distance the target is from her location then the harder it is to hit it. However, she won’t shoot unless she’s got a high chance at hitting it.
Tech Powers
Basics:
Blow torch- basic engineer tool used for welding and cutting metals.
Scanner- determine flaws, damages, and other details on an inanimate object
Flashlight- enable to see in dark places
Dispenser- holds medi-gel and any converted omni-gel used for unlocking stubborn doors
Camera- able to take images and store them within her omnitool
Games unit- solution to boredom problems
Fash- able to cause a brief, overpowering flare of light that can blind surrounding enemies Duration: few seconds Recharge: 10 seconds
Hacking- able to jack into machines, doors, and even other omni-tools (later much harder)
Omni-blade- super heated, disposable blade used to peel off aged bolts
Sabotage: Overheats and disables weapons requiring the affected target to eject and reload their thermal clip before being able to use again. In addition, it can hack and turn hostile synthetics into allies.
Recharge Speed: 8 seconds or more (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Medium (target must be tagged/scanned before hand for hijacking a synthetic)
Target Number: 1
Dampener: Increases explosion radius of proximity mines, or like explosion items. It also shuts down both surrounding enemy tech and biotic abilities, temporary disabling a small group for a short time but at a high recharging time cost.
Recharge Speed: 40 seconds (3-4 posts estimated)
Range: Close (within eyesight)Target Number: small group (3-4)
Overload: Overloads electronics by creating a power surge and also stunning her enemies for a brief time. Effective against shields, barriers, and synthetics. Not nearly as effective on organics, if at all.
Recharge Speed: 8 or more seconds (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Close (within eyesight)
Target Number: 1
Tactical Cloaking: By reflecting and wrapping light about the user, it renders them invisible. Sight is the only sense affected as the user can still be smelt, heard and felt if she careless enough. Once hit, the shield shuts down and the user is revealed back to a visible status. This doesn’t protect the user besides hiding her from sight, still allowing her to be hurt or possibly killed on discovery.
Recharge Speed: 20 seconds (2-3 posts, estimated)
Range: N/A
Duration: Short period, mostly depending on skill/story need
Target Number: N/A
Background:
Raa’Kina was born from Xemel’Sinara vas Aerata and Terna’Welyxi nar Rannoch, she is the second child in her family to be born on the newly rebuilt homeworld. For the most part, she could say her life was pretty average throughout her childhood. There of course was the natural slight changes to her race’s culture and views toward the Geth, the Reaper War nearly ushered every living thing into extinction had managed at least one positive thing after costing so many their lives. According to the dwindling elders’ stories, much has changed compared to their time. Technology studied from the Reapers brought most races to equal grounds when it came to life quality, advancement, and more. The biggest achievement in the Quarians’ view was gaining their own planet again. After everything that happened, the tension between the Quarians and Geth seem like a faint, distant memory compared to the modern age she lived in. Now a days on her homeworld, one rarely walked out onto the street without seeing the two races mingling in the sun’s dense rays, making her recall her grandfather’s last recorded words that this was an event that should’ve happened long ago.
When Raa’Kina reflects on her past, she only has a few memories, both good and bad, that stick up in her mind. Nothing she feels is interesting compared to her grandfather Pai’Seef’s or grandaunt Devryn’s experiences while working at Farian’s Ship Repair in their younger years. However, they are very hard to forget.
The youngest she can recall is at seven years old, she learned how dangerous it was when she wasn’t aware of her surroundings. Faulty and experimental machinery, developed from the Reaper War data, had malfunctioned bring the massive thing crumbling down the distracted girl. Geth and several Quarians had been chatting nearby when one unit noticed the event. She was lucky to come off with just a scratch, one of the nearest Geth units immediately spurred into action and scooped her away from the crash zone before she was killed. It took several minutes for her to calm down, her mother finally peeling her off the machine, and held her close in a comforting embrace. The bad part was she never got to thank the Geth who saved her personally.
Later, at the age of ten, she met another who shared the same name as herself. A curious AI, created and stood side by side with her grandfather, contacted her during the funeral. She was shocked such a being knew her, let alone having the same name. Curiosity won out over her caution, like usual, causing the pair to get very acquainted with one another through the common link: Pai’Seef. She learned, even to this day, much about the relative she hadn’t much chance to know better from his adventures during employment under Nasyrius’ Barbacus crew employed by the Farian Ship Repair to the Reaper War defense, as well as his punishment for creating the AI. Though RK, as she is referred to now as, suffered no ill effects, she disagreed with Quarian government’s punishment despite it being lessened due to services rendered and lives saved by his actions.
Intrigued by RK’s stories, Raa’Kina’s first destination on her pilgrimage was right into the most likely still surviving member who served with her grandfather, the asari Noami’lie Tynci. During the Reaper invasion, the asari lost her company in damages when it came to defending the planet and afterwards went into bankruptcy which had caused great heartache in the end. The only thing she managed to keep was the Barbacus, an asari light freighter in the destiny class, modified by both Pai’Seef and Devryn. It was here she learned what happened to the rest, learning the hard truth of why Noami’lie had kept the starship. Though Nasyrius died during the War, the two ended up having a daughter together named Nyasea who surpisingly seemed to have taken many traits from her father causing the Quarian to bid them farewell at the end of her visit.
She continued her pilgrimage for the next few months before she ended up getting roped into a deal with five Turians, currently involved with the selling of high level software at an ideal price. At first, she thought would be ideal for back home without thinking why they would've sold it at half the normal credits, taking their explanation it was second hand and per-owned. Things went terribly wrong when the Turians started to become more touchy than she was comfortable with. She started to withdrew her interest and they didn't take kindly to that, one of them immediately closing their three fingered hand about her arm to pull her back. Naturally Raa'Kina panicked. She went for her pistol, but one had managed to get behind and prevent her from drawing it. RK was about to do something when suddenly two Turians dropped, including the one holding her, causing her to duck behind the nearest cover. It was her first time ever being in a live gunfight while quickly showed her lacking skills in the area resulting her in getting a minor injury. RK embarrassed her some by uttering out why it was a bad idea as she showed her lacking experience in the world, something she inwardly believes her casually brushing off the incident didn't help her case.
So, for a another few years both Voira and RK accompanied her, herstrong desire to gain a rich experience and more driving her onward, much like the Barbacus’ crew had. Among her travels she encountered various colonies, aiding in their survival with her talent, which expanded her knowledge about others outside Quarian. Often it was in exchange for credits, place to stay or even pay for her next trip out though to say it was completely safe was an understatement. Piracy and theft had became more common in the following years, even though the Reapers no longer was a common threat, which had force Raa’Kina to start keeping her pistol locked and ready at all times. She had a few close calls but thanks to RK, they managed to avoid trouble well enough.
A few weeks ago, RK had received a message that she had been contacted and hired for aiding the colonization of a planet within the Pylos Nebula, the first time in their long history. It was a chance to explore and possibly benefit her homeworld most of all. Though KR logically predicted the odds that something would go wrong against the right, the AI kept her mouth shut, hitching a ride with the gruff Voira and naive Quarian youth. |
1,390 | 30 | 30 | 507 | 626 | Well looks like you guys are just intent on giving me no options. With a sigh she turned around and took a second to collect her thoughts while the Human and the Quarian began charging off. She said to the diplomats and her soldiers. "All Cabalists relinquish your secondary's to any diplomat that knows how to use it." She glanced hard at the two Turians who both accepted arms considering most if not all Turians knew how to fire a gun. "If the Humans get us all killed I'm sure someone somewhere will get a slap on the wrist. But for now all of you non-combatants stay behind my guys and cover the rear...or atleast tell us somethings coming. We're going with the emotional apes, considering they seem to value the them over all of us." Sura said with a slight bit of irritation. She turned to her men and added."Forward VIP cover and keep it tight, doubt these fools are going to be using big explosives in here." With that she primed her assault rifle and signaled with her hands to move out.
This garnered a "siryessir" from the relatively young Cabalists. Heart racing Tacticus yelled out at the leaving Human and Quarian "Atleast hit the sec station first... buy us time atleast..." Tacticus said as his voice trailed off into a murmur with a hint of annoyance. If he was feeling the pressure he couldn't imagine what this was like for Sura. He knew she was like a mountain facing a tidal wave when situations went up in flames like this but everyone had to have their limits... right? It also finally registered with Cactus that the Human had asked with a please that they follow him, "weird" he thought. Before falling out into the front of the formation Tacticus looked at the Geth for a second looking for anything that might reassure him that they we're not all gonna get killed by Human's. When he realized that he was looking to a robot for guidance he turned back to the group, and murmured under his breath "Right... close enough." | Name: Tacticus Agnom
Nickname: Cactus
Species: Turian
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Stands at just over six feet.
Weapons/Equipment:
M-37 Tempest Submachine gun
K-22 Ursus Heavy pistol
Reinforced Gauntlets & gloves
Skills and Abilities:
Rookie - Tacticus has not participated in any combat against real hostiles. While he has been extensively trained and there are several veterans on the team, there is no true substitute to the real thing. This also lends itself to his biotics skills being limited aswell.
Cabalist - At 15 when Tacticus joined the Turian military he was immediately separated from his classmen and put into a Cabal training program. Among biotic training Tacticus was also given heavily specialized training as a shock troop, meaning he is skilled with pistols, explosives, and infiltration.
Combat Biotic - Tacticus's biotics are strong enough for his abilities to be used as weapons on their own. Most of his abilties are focused on augmenting his own body for the time being. Though his manipulation of mass effect fields beyond his own body are limited he only needs his hands to punch a hole through most people and objects.
Pilot - As part of his training in the Cabal he is rated to pilot most vehicles if need be.
Background: Tacticus was born to 40 year old parents both of whom were special forces in the Turian military. This meant that after parental leave one of them had to retire from active combat to raise Tacticus, his father ended up volunteering for the job and took a position planning operations while his mother continued her active service. Since he was an only child Tacticus was given quite a bit of attention from his father which ended up shaping him into a shinning model of Turian selflessness. Though since his parents were both serving the military Tacticus never stayed on one planet or space station long. This meant he generally had few friends which he always knew he would have to leave behind, he never became very attached to them as a consequence. That changed however when his mother was injured during an operation and forced to retire from her active combat position. When Tacticus was given the news he was pulled out of his class. The young Tacticus was so distraught learning this he accidentally discovered his biotics. From that point on Tacticus isolated himself from others his age as he did not want to hurt them. His parents knew that this would force him into the Cabals when he turned 15 so they decided it was best to wait out the last few years and provide support as best they could.
When Tacticus was signing his life to the Hierarchy he was afraid of what his fellow soldiers would think of him in basic. He knew the stigma he was facing, after all his own parents didn't trust him when he first found out. While the following year was not as bad as he thought it would be it still left him alone whenever they were not doing exercises or general training. But when all of their assignments were being dolled out Tacticus was immediately assigned to the cabals. Thus began his grueling two years of training.
An odd thing happened though when he became apart of the all biotic strike force. He finally felt like he was home. Most people in the cabal he was assigned to had similar stories to his and it made Tacticus feel like he truly fit in somewhere. The companionship Tacticus built up with his Cabal through blood, sweat, and tears during their demanding endurance exercises and the fact that they were alone together made him become extremely close with his squad and vice versa. The squad spirit that was exemplified through their well oiled actions later in training was one of power and determination to assist the Hierarchy in any way possible.
Recently the squad was given a handler and moved to the outer reaches of colonized space. They are set to provide security in the Pylos Nebula and to deal with any more dangerous elements that always pop up on new colonies. Currently however they have been assigned to a ship that will act as their temporary home. |
1,391 | 30 | 31 | 739 | 6,473 | Although not all of Avatar's allies seemed satisfied with their chosen course of action, they all remained together as a single unit, instead of splitting their forces. Since its weapon was not effective at long ranges, Avatar moved at the front of the group alongside Donny. As they started to move along, it made certain that all in the group were on the same radio frequency to ensure proper communication both in combat, and if they were separated.
Following Raa's suggestion, the group took a non-direct path to their destination which would lead past a security station. It was likely that they would avoid the hostiles which were attempting to intercept them, but since they were being watched by the station's cameras, the enemy would know which pathways to take in order to follow them. "The probability that we are being followed by hostile forces is close to certain. Once we find and capture the security station, we will be forced to defend it. If we do not capture the security station within sufficient time, hostile forces will have us surrounded and at a tactical disadvantage." Avatar warned as they moved along at a brisk pace.
The group did not encounter hostile resistance on the way to the security station, but as Avatar and Donny rounded the corner to the final hallway, they were met with a group of five hostiles consisting of four Turians and one Krogan, most likely a mercenary based on his armor, ten meters in front of them. The security station was on the left side of the hall with two entrances: one next to the hostile group, and another farther down. The hallway itself was long and open, with no cover except for the corner that Avatar and Donny were forced to retreat behind once the enemy opened fire. Avatar could hear the security station door open, but the Krogan quickly shouted out for his men to hold position. Peering around the corner for a brief moment, Avatar could see that the enemy was waiting with weapons trained on the corner. Most likely, they intended to prevent them from advancing until reinforcements could flank them. Allied forced did currently have a numerical advantage, but the enemy could start firing at full force much sooner if they tried to round the corner unprotected.
"Use of biotic barriers may allow us to establish a firing position." Avatar recommended, though there were potentially other options. | Name: Avatar
Species: Geth
Age: 376 years since program’s creation
Gender: N/A
Weapons/Equipment:
-Geth Pulse Rifle v3
-Geth Plasma SMG v3
-A combat platform with greater capabilities than a standard Geth unit.
Skills and Abilities: Like most Geth, it is a tech expert with strong hacking capabilities. It has tech-based abilities (incinerate, cryo blast, etc) and is equipped with a tactical cloak. Its advanced mobile platform is quite durable. As its body is made from tough alloys with powerful synthetic muscles, it is capable of strength beyond that of an organic of similar size. It also has the accuracy and reaction time one would expect from an advanced machine.
Background: For most of Avatar’s existence, it was but a single Geth program, with little more than rudimentary instincts and completely reliant upon the presence of other Geth to attain intelligence. That, however, changed in the midst of the Reaper War. In the aftermath of the battle with the Creator fleet at Rannoch, all Geth were given Reaper upgrades that uplifted them to become true A.I. Avatar was given its name by a group of organics it fought alongside during the Battle of Earth, and decided to keep that name in order to facilitate easier communication with organics.
After the end of the war, Avatar filled many roles. At first most of the Geth’s efforts were on rebuilding what was lost at Rannoch and helping the Creators resettle on the homeworld. The efficiency of the Geth’s planning coupled with the eagerness of the Quarians to re-establish their home made the process rather quick. Avatar spent a few years inhabiting the suits of Creators, mimicking the effects of viruses to help them to rebuild their immune systems. Over time, cities were erected on the surface of Rannoch, and more and more Creators were able to live without their suits, though most still chose to wear them due to tradition.
Eventually, Avatar’s role shifted away from rebuilding and into security. Due to the weakened state of the galaxy in the years after the war, piracy and other forms of crime were becoming increasingly common. All Geth were capable of combat when installed in the correct platform, but Avatar had a desire to help, and through years of fighting, it had developed memory shortcuts in relation to combat that would make it more effective than programs that had not incorporated said shortcuts. Avatar has served ever since as a combat platform, patrolling sectors near the borders of Geth/Quarian space, and sometimes even in the territories of other species, when requested.
Most recently, Avatar has been assigned to accompany a group of Creators who have been tasked with preparing the way for the first Quarian settlements in the Pylos Nebula. Avatar’s assigned mission is to discuss Geth habitation of the planet with the locals and make other preparations for the Geth. Any Geth could perform that task, but due to the dangerous nature of the Attican Traverse, they felt it appropriate to send a combat platform for additional protection. |
1,392 | 30 | 32 | 2,025 | 3,680 | Voira looked to where Donny was heading off before giving an exasperated sigh as he turned to leave. She was sure he was going to draw someone with a bleeding heart after him, and get them both killed, limiting their combat forces even further. Then her eyes widened with a sudden thought, her hand moving to snatch Raa back to her. Too little, too late, the Quarian was already gone and running after the human. Straight into whatever defense the enemy had set up for anyone trying to save their allies. And she hadn't even practiced that much at all with the new protocols she had gotten. "Goddess damn it Raa!" Voira snapped, more worried about the danger than angry with the Quarian, moving quickly after her. She vaguely heard the turian commander ordering her men to follow them, and the diplomats to stay behind at a safe distance. She caught up to Raa and pulled the Quarian behind her, letting the Geth and the human lead the way.
"Don't do that again, and stay with the diplomats." The Asari said, before drawing her Thunder assault rifle.
Of course, it didn't take much longer for them to get into another situation. This time it was a long, open, hallway with enemies waiting at the end of it, who were just waiting for them to peek their heads out of cover. Voira tilted her head at Avatar as he spoke, before holstering her thunder assault rifle again. She was the oldest here after all, aside from maybe the geth and the Krogan and she was sure neither of them could use biotics. "Okay. If anyone here has a grenade, tell us, and we'll let down the barrier long enough for it to be launched." She stood up and got in front of Avatar. "Ready?" She asked everyone, giving them a few moments to prepare themselves.
Then she stepped out from behind cover, quickly throwing up a straight barrier in front of her to catch the storm of bullets. Despite having done this dozens of times before against far more lethal odds, the Asari couldn't completely stop the flinch as the bullets smacked against her barrier. She only hoped it held long enough to get rid of the damn Krogan and his turians. "Lets go!" | Name: Voira Sirosi
Species: Asari
Age: 125
Gender: Female
Appearance: Voira
Voira is unnaturally tall for an Asari, standing at 6ft exactly. She attributes it to her father.
Weapons/Equipment:
-Thunder Assault Rifle
-Viper Shotgun
-Two Razer pistols
-Bottle of Ryncol
-Omni-tool, which she only uses for application and storage of her large supply of omni gel, and as a melee weapon in a pinch.
-Several different types of ammos (specifically, shredder rounds, Anti-armor rounds, poison rounds, and explosive rounds.)
Skills and Abilities:
-Powerful biotic. Due to rigorous training in biotic strength from her adoptive mother and the variety of skill sets she learned from her adoptive family, Voira is both a powerful biotic and a versatile one
-Skilled combatant. Another thing her adoptive mother and family’s insisted on. From a young age(50, to be exact) Voira had been trained in combat by all members.From the training of the Serrice Guard, to pirate combat, to Krogan battle training, Voira has been taught well.
-Field Medic. Voira is good at patching people up, if Omni-Gel isn’t on hand, especially during the heat of battle.
Background:
Voira knows firsthand what it’s like to lose everything in an instant. She was still a child at 48 years old when the Reapers finally made it to the Asari home world. She lost both her biological parents(A Krogan for her father) and her twin sister. That was the most devastating blow. While she had loved her parents, she had had a deep bond with her sister that was only increased by their biotic abilities. They could hear each other’s thoughts, feel what the other was feeling and were even referring to themselves in plural rather than singular. They were, in short, inseparable. Then the Reapers came, and Voira’s world was remade in fire and ash.
She doesn’t remember much of the actual event. Bits and pieces. She remembered panic, fear, running, hiding, praying to the Asari goddess, a collapsing building, and being trapped alone. Then there was a blinding red light, blistering pain, and a screaming in her head she thought would never stop.
She didn’t know how long it had been when she woke to the sounds of people arguing. Someone, with a deep gravelly voice, wanted to leave. Someone else wanted to stay and look for ‘the extraction target’ a little while longer. Other voices commented for or against the idea of leaving, but those were the ones Voira heard the most. She tried calling for help once. All that came out was a soft rasp. She tried twice, and winced at the pain in her throat. The voices sounded like they were going away, leaving. Panic filled her and Voira screamed for help. Pain wracked her body and she ended up coughing violently, tasting blood coughed up from her ravaged throat.
Despite the pain, her cry for helped work. Through the familiar and comforting blue glow of biotics, her tomb of rubble was removed. The first face she saw was an Asari, reaching down to haul her out. Voira sobbed in relief, wrapping her arms around the mercenary, pressing her face against the emblem on her chest. The other Asari’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close. The last thing Voira heard before falling back unconscious was, “We’re taking her with us.”
When Voira next awoke, she was on a strange ship, with the same Asari sitting next to her, quietly watching. After introductions were done and it was explained, where she was and that, that she wasn’t well enough to leave on her own, Voira slipped back into sleep. Almost Every time she woke up, Voira found Dahlia, as the Asari had introduced herself, sitting there. Sometimes she would look ragged, as if she had just come from a fight, but she would always be quietly there, waiting and watching over her. They would talk, quietly, and then Voira would grow tired again and slip back into sleep. It continued like this for an uncertain amount of time for Voira, before she was well enough to wander the ship on her own. The war had been won in her rest. The Reapers destroyed, the human Shepard dying to activate the Crucible. Voira didn’t care. It had finally hit her. Her family was dead, her other half killed by the burning beam of the Reapers. What did she have to live for?
Tevura caught her the first time. Biotics knocked the pistol from her hand and pinned her to the wall. Ignoring her screams of rage and curses, the mercenary commander merely looked at her with sad, understanding eyes. Various others stopped her next dozen tries. A Krogan, a human, another Asari, and a Quarian being the most frequent. Finally, Tevura’s eyes went from sad and understanding to hard and pitiless.
She told Voira, bluntly, that she was acting like a selfish child, that her family and least of all her twin wouldn’t want her killing herself needlessly, and if she felt like explaining to her family why she was so selfish as to join them before she had to die it was her choice. Before she exited the door she made one final comment. If Voira chose to live, Tevura would want to adopt her. She then left Voira with a pistol. For a long time Voira stayed in that room. Multiple times she almost did it. She put the gun to her head and nearly pulled the trigger. Finally, she put it down for good. Tevura was right, her family wouldn’t approve and she couldn’t tell if she was more afraid of their condemnation when she met them in whatever afterlife there was, or if the idea of ‘Embracing eternity’ permanently was what terrified her.
She walked out into the hallway, smiling slightly at the clear relief on Tevura’s face, and said she accepted. What followed next was decades of training by her new adoptive family. Over time she began to see them not as those who took her in and finally as her new family. Even Tasi, who scared her sometimes, she grew to love. She even met what she considered to be her extended family, that is, the surviving Barbacus crew. About thirty-five years ago, she hit the maiden stage and declared herself ready to go see what the universe had to offer. Tevura(who had told Voira her secrets long ago), agreed to let her go, but made sure she was prepared.
The next several decades were spent wandering, getting into adventures with mercenary groups and generally exploring the universe and what it had to offer. She never stayed in one place for very long, always moving on to see the next big thing the universe had. She hunted thresher maws with Krogans, fought(and was nearly killed by) a Drell assassin, and even charged into the teeth of a battalion of Elcor soldiers. However, the experience she remembers most fondly is when she met Raa’Kina.
The Quarian was trying to back out of a shady deal with five Turians who were rather…insistent that she pay them for services rendered, one way or another. When, after a comment by the Quarian, the Turians started getting a little too touchy with the Quarian Voira decided to intervene. Two of them were dead before they realized what was happening, and the rest were knocked over by a biotic blast while the Quarian rapidly backpedaled into cover. What happened next was a traditional firefight, with them both to busy concentrating on not dying to do introductions. After the remaining Turians were killed they introduced themselves. Raa’Kina was so naïve and cheerful and friendly that Voira couldn’t just leave her alone.
What started out as a simple escort to safer areas turned into, after some time talking to Raa’Kina, into a decision to not let the Quarian go on her own through her pilgrimage. At least for a little while.
She’s still following Raa.
Misc Details:
-Voira’s favored drink is Ryncol, a drink she picked up from her aunt Kalros.
-While on a trip to Earth with her uncle Dave, Voira picked up the habit of smoking. More specifically, Earth Cuban Cigars. She quit years ago, but she still carries around a pack of them. Not to smoke, but to chew on when she’s thinking hard or to smell to calm nerves.
-Voira still refers to herself in plural. I or me becomes we, mine becomes ours, etc. |
1,393 | 30 | 33 | 799 | 7,421 | Naturally Raa failed to hear the final decision when she took off after the man. Her attention was far more determined to catch him before he got himself killed than listen to the others, not realizing her choice might’ve tilted their hand to follow. Her feet with surprising quickness closed the gap between them. A arm reached out and her hand made to snag his arm, trying to bring him to at least slow his pace if she got a grip. It was unlikely she would be able to make him completely due to his determination. Either way, her words were trying to reason with the reckless human while keeping pace. “Please, just stop and think. I know you’re worried! However, you can’t help anyone if you’re dead. Please, please just stop a moment!”
She wasn’t sure if her words were reaching the man. Mainly because at that moment, something green and black came trotting into her side perception and immediately the Quarian stopped. Her hand retracted back as she realize, with relief, who had sudden pulled up beside them: Avatar. the Geth clipped rapidly and easily, pulling beside Donny in a second to pull out its own weapon for the possibility of hostiles. Raa didn’t know how to react.
A voice suddenly started to chide her when Voira’s came into view, her arm reaching for her Thunder assualt rifle. "Don't do that again, and stay with the diplomats."
Raa didn’t have much time to when Voira’s other hand wrapped about her arm and jerked the quarian back like a naughty child. She nearly fell into the asari, saved only her other hand whipped about to right herself for the moment. It was brief because she felt her gun pushed into her waist then pointed to the back of the group, namely where the diplomats were currently at. The engineer sighed slightly at the command but understood why. Grudgingly, she fell back to where the less experienced fighters at Voira’s request.
At first it seemed like the trip would’ve been easy. There was little sign of those who attempted to take the station hostage and they were smoothly drawing closer to the station, their weapons ready and waiting to fire when needed. Including Raa’s. It was short lived when several mercenaries, four Turians and a Krogan, came into view when both Avatar and Donny rounded the corner. Immediately bullets started to fly and those guarding the diplomats gestured for cover. Raa jerked to the nearest place for cover reflexively. She tried to make herself as small as possible while her heard, over the gunfire, Avatar speak. "Use of biotic barriers may allow us to establish a firing position."
Interested in what was happening, the quarian edged cautiously closer while she watched the pair. Avatar’s comment caused Voira’s ears to perk in a human way, putting her gun away and replying back. "Okay. If anyone here has a grenade, tell us, and we'll let down the barrier long enough for it to be launched."
Rising up, Raa watched Voira get in front of Avatar then turned to ensure everyone was ready. "Ready?"
Raa had RK already arming her weapon while it made a hissing click in her slow approach. Her fingers tightened about the gun when the asari stepped from her cover, causing her breath to still, tossing up a barrier for the bullets to bounce off of. Voira’s words echoed in Raa’s head as the asari signaled for Avatar to follow her. "Lets go!"
By this time, Raa was dangerously close to the front as she peered out from the corner. Pop, pop! Her head retreated instantly at the moment it was nearly clipped by two projectiles, her heart racing as she felt stupid for not thinking of it sooner. Her eyes had caught a glimpse of the mercenaries just when one lifted his hand to his communications. They were wireless which meant they were vulnerable and easy targets. She turned to her omnitool and tapped it, bring up RK’s head. “Can you create a high frequency to mess with their wireless signal? Mainly just to sabotage it?”
RK smirked. “Yes. And already working on it before you said something, Raa.”
When RK finished her sentence, a wide, disrupting signal went out from Raa’s omnitool. It would spread and begin to target the enemy’s communications, as well as any wireless devices. Its main aim was to make them hot to the touch and useless, crippling the enemy. Several enemies would be caught off guard by the surprise tactic and hopefully buy Avatar and Voira some time. Meanwhile, over Voira’s omnitool RK’s voice spoke in a smug way, loud enough for the pair to hear. “You’re welcome.” | Name: Raa’Kina (Raa for short)
Species: Quarian.
Age: 21
Gender: female
Appearance:
Raa’Kina, outside her suit, looks like most other Quarians her young age. She has the pale, humanoid figure with the bowed legs, three digit hands, and two toe feet, all of it standing at a total of 5’6” in height. Lean muscle and a subtle mix of curves grace her frame, including a modest bust, common in the fairer gender of her race. Under the mask, her face has soft, rounded features whenever she compares her own to her mother’s far more angular and mature ones. It seems her illuminating pupils tend to ooze empathy and scream naivety in every look, a trait she founds more annoying than elegant as some of her suitors put it. Two dark lines trace her neck front, branching off in the common found way, with two lines running from her slanted eyes to her hairline.
Though these traits are common, she also has her own personal design and choices in style that makes her stand out in her own right. Namely to give her more individuality compared to other Quarians her own age group. Her dark, raven black hair is cut short, shaggy with wavy bangs as its tossed naturally into a playful mess. Just at the nape of her neck is a single section left untouched and roped into a braid that reaches to the neck base, held together by wiring that holds personal value.
Weapons/Equipment:
Pistol- Basic and simple, she uses this to protect herself during her piligramage
Omnitool- Raa’Kina’s toy when she was younger was her omnitool, enjoying mathical algorithms to a streaming lines of data and much later became her must need item on her person at all times. It has both the most widely and common Quarian applications, alongside some of her personalized designed ones. One she’s very proud in is a navigation program that hasn’t failed her and was designed thanks to help from her human great aunt (adopted) Devryn.
AI- An artificial intelligence evolved from an older VI programming by her grandfather Pai’Seef. Since the Reaper War and the fact the AI had been helpful, her grandfather’s punishment was somewhat lighter than prewar times though he still willingly accepted it. Once known as Raa’Kina, the AI now goes by RK for short due to the two sharing a name. RK is blunt, logical yet has a sense Quarian nature to her interactions and expressions which makes it seem she is nothing more than another organic on the omnitool comm. Despite her emotional display in her visual, she can’t fully understand the emotions she shows or why they are appropriate for the occasion. Sometimes she can seem a bit insensitive or rude, her attitude designed by Pai’Seef and long since evolved into her own.
Skills and Abilities:
Software knowledge and talent- Raa’Kina is a logical, if cheerful individual, who is very talented in software area of technology. She can repair, rebuild, or salvage almost any sort of software there which makes sense why her homeworld believed she was a good choice for this mission. Sadly, like her grandfather who she inherited the talent from, her skills in actually building the machine is sadly is average compared to her software abilities.
Decent Shooter- Raa’Kina can and does practice the base marksman skills for her pistol, namely to prevent injuring someone who doesn’t deserve it. And that’s anyone who has the nerve to attack her or her allies. Sadly she’s not perfect in this skill and distance does tend to matter with her aim, the farther distance the target is from her location then the harder it is to hit it. However, she won’t shoot unless she’s got a high chance at hitting it.
Tech Powers
Basics:
Blow torch- basic engineer tool used for welding and cutting metals.
Scanner- determine flaws, damages, and other details on an inanimate object
Flashlight- enable to see in dark places
Dispenser- holds medi-gel and any converted omni-gel used for unlocking stubborn doors
Camera- able to take images and store them within her omnitool
Games unit- solution to boredom problems
Fash- able to cause a brief, overpowering flare of light that can blind surrounding enemies Duration: few seconds Recharge: 10 seconds
Hacking- able to jack into machines, doors, and even other omni-tools (later much harder)
Omni-blade- super heated, disposable blade used to peel off aged bolts
Sabotage: Overheats and disables weapons requiring the affected target to eject and reload their thermal clip before being able to use again. In addition, it can hack and turn hostile synthetics into allies.
Recharge Speed: 8 seconds or more (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Medium (target must be tagged/scanned before hand for hijacking a synthetic)
Target Number: 1
Dampener: Increases explosion radius of proximity mines, or like explosion items. It also shuts down both surrounding enemy tech and biotic abilities, temporary disabling a small group for a short time but at a high recharging time cost.
Recharge Speed: 40 seconds (3-4 posts estimated)
Range: Close (within eyesight)Target Number: small group (3-4)
Overload: Overloads electronics by creating a power surge and also stunning her enemies for a brief time. Effective against shields, barriers, and synthetics. Not nearly as effective on organics, if at all.
Recharge Speed: 8 or more seconds (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Close (within eyesight)
Target Number: 1
Tactical Cloaking: By reflecting and wrapping light about the user, it renders them invisible. Sight is the only sense affected as the user can still be smelt, heard and felt if she careless enough. Once hit, the shield shuts down and the user is revealed back to a visible status. This doesn’t protect the user besides hiding her from sight, still allowing her to be hurt or possibly killed on discovery.
Recharge Speed: 20 seconds (2-3 posts, estimated)
Range: N/A
Duration: Short period, mostly depending on skill/story need
Target Number: N/A
Background:
Raa’Kina was born from Xemel’Sinara vas Aerata and Terna’Welyxi nar Rannoch, she is the second child in her family to be born on the newly rebuilt homeworld. For the most part, she could say her life was pretty average throughout her childhood. There of course was the natural slight changes to her race’s culture and views toward the Geth, the Reaper War nearly ushered every living thing into extinction had managed at least one positive thing after costing so many their lives. According to the dwindling elders’ stories, much has changed compared to their time. Technology studied from the Reapers brought most races to equal grounds when it came to life quality, advancement, and more. The biggest achievement in the Quarians’ view was gaining their own planet again. After everything that happened, the tension between the Quarians and Geth seem like a faint, distant memory compared to the modern age she lived in. Now a days on her homeworld, one rarely walked out onto the street without seeing the two races mingling in the sun’s dense rays, making her recall her grandfather’s last recorded words that this was an event that should’ve happened long ago.
When Raa’Kina reflects on her past, she only has a few memories, both good and bad, that stick up in her mind. Nothing she feels is interesting compared to her grandfather Pai’Seef’s or grandaunt Devryn’s experiences while working at Farian’s Ship Repair in their younger years. However, they are very hard to forget.
The youngest she can recall is at seven years old, she learned how dangerous it was when she wasn’t aware of her surroundings. Faulty and experimental machinery, developed from the Reaper War data, had malfunctioned bring the massive thing crumbling down the distracted girl. Geth and several Quarians had been chatting nearby when one unit noticed the event. She was lucky to come off with just a scratch, one of the nearest Geth units immediately spurred into action and scooped her away from the crash zone before she was killed. It took several minutes for her to calm down, her mother finally peeling her off the machine, and held her close in a comforting embrace. The bad part was she never got to thank the Geth who saved her personally.
Later, at the age of ten, she met another who shared the same name as herself. A curious AI, created and stood side by side with her grandfather, contacted her during the funeral. She was shocked such a being knew her, let alone having the same name. Curiosity won out over her caution, like usual, causing the pair to get very acquainted with one another through the common link: Pai’Seef. She learned, even to this day, much about the relative she hadn’t much chance to know better from his adventures during employment under Nasyrius’ Barbacus crew employed by the Farian Ship Repair to the Reaper War defense, as well as his punishment for creating the AI. Though RK, as she is referred to now as, suffered no ill effects, she disagreed with Quarian government’s punishment despite it being lessened due to services rendered and lives saved by his actions.
Intrigued by RK’s stories, Raa’Kina’s first destination on her pilgrimage was right into the most likely still surviving member who served with her grandfather, the asari Noami’lie Tynci. During the Reaper invasion, the asari lost her company in damages when it came to defending the planet and afterwards went into bankruptcy which had caused great heartache in the end. The only thing she managed to keep was the Barbacus, an asari light freighter in the destiny class, modified by both Pai’Seef and Devryn. It was here she learned what happened to the rest, learning the hard truth of why Noami’lie had kept the starship. Though Nasyrius died during the War, the two ended up having a daughter together named Nyasea who surpisingly seemed to have taken many traits from her father causing the Quarian to bid them farewell at the end of her visit.
She continued her pilgrimage for the next few months before she ended up getting roped into a deal with five Turians, currently involved with the selling of high level software at an ideal price. At first, she thought would be ideal for back home without thinking why they would've sold it at half the normal credits, taking their explanation it was second hand and per-owned. Things went terribly wrong when the Turians started to become more touchy than she was comfortable with. She started to withdrew her interest and they didn't take kindly to that, one of them immediately closing their three fingered hand about her arm to pull her back. Naturally Raa'Kina panicked. She went for her pistol, but one had managed to get behind and prevent her from drawing it. RK was about to do something when suddenly two Turians dropped, including the one holding her, causing her to duck behind the nearest cover. It was her first time ever being in a live gunfight while quickly showed her lacking skills in the area resulting her in getting a minor injury. RK embarrassed her some by uttering out why it was a bad idea as she showed her lacking experience in the world, something she inwardly believes her casually brushing off the incident didn't help her case.
So, for a another few years both Voira and RK accompanied her, herstrong desire to gain a rich experience and more driving her onward, much like the Barbacus’ crew had. Among her travels she encountered various colonies, aiding in their survival with her talent, which expanded her knowledge about others outside Quarian. Often it was in exchange for credits, place to stay or even pay for her next trip out though to say it was completely safe was an understatement. Piracy and theft had became more common in the following years, even though the Reapers no longer was a common threat, which had force Raa’Kina to start keeping her pistol locked and ready at all times. She had a few close calls but thanks to RK, they managed to avoid trouble well enough.
A few weeks ago, RK had received a message that she had been contacted and hired for aiding the colonization of a planet within the Pylos Nebula, the first time in their long history. It was a chance to explore and possibly benefit her homeworld most of all. Though KR logically predicted the odds that something would go wrong against the right, the AI kept her mouth shut, hitching a ride with the gruff Voira and naive Quarian youth. |
1,394 | 30 | 34 | 507 | 626 | The eerie quite of nothing but their footsteps and air recylcers put Tacticus on edge. He felt as if they should have seen an enemy by now. After all they were being tracked around the ship. While he certainly was not complaining it seemed... odd. He guessed it was possible a good chunk of the guards were already engaged in combat with the Humans but that didn't bode well for them seeing as if there is a large enough force to overwhelm the Humans they we're not going to fair much better. Atleast if they were dead they got what they deserved thought Cactus with a bit of morbid satisfaction. Since the shoot out in the meeting area he had switched to his machine pistol seeing as being accurate in a hallway was relatively easy.
When the Geth and Donny rounded the final corner everything began moving at lightning speed. The two making up the spearhead of the group jumped back and pressed themselves against the corner abruptly as a hail of bullets were belched out of the hallway ahead of him. Sura Told the diplomats and now Quarian to stay as the Cabal formed around her. Then with the Asari jumping into the way of the bullets with a barrier thrown infront of her calling for a grenade. One of the female cabalists blurted out. "Are you insane? You'll kill us!"
This garnered a laugh from the Asari and a retort "You have a startling lack of faith in our ability to put the barrier back up before we all die." Sura shot her soldier a look for speaking out of turn, she then quickly shut her jaw hard and pressed her mandibles against her face even harder in shame.
"Warps then shields." Sura said grabbing the single grenade the Cabal had from her own waist. She then gave everyone a look informing them that she intended to use it. Everyone nodded and stacked up on the corner. Then all of the sudden Sura, Numso and another Turian jumped from behind the wall to either side of the Asari's barrier. All of three of them in sync charged themselves with biotic energy and ejected it all through their palms. Then two more Turians and Cactus jumped out from behind the corner aswell while the three original Turians fell back. But instead of throwing pure biotic energy out Tacticus jumped behind Voira's shield and the other two Turians threw up barriers of their own. Thus they effectively cover their part of the hallway from floor to ceiling with barriers. Sura then began glowing with biotic energy again and yelled. "Drop it!" Suddenly a hole in the barrier opened up towards the ceiling and Sura threw a grenade enhanced by her biotics towards the Turian's and Krogan. As the grenade cleared the barriers the hole quickly filled back in and Tacticus prepared himself to charge into the cluster of enemies and finish the fight. But first the field had to be plowed. | Name: Tacticus Agnom
Nickname: Cactus
Species: Turian
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Stands at just over six feet.
Weapons/Equipment:
M-37 Tempest Submachine gun
K-22 Ursus Heavy pistol
Reinforced Gauntlets & gloves
Skills and Abilities:
Rookie - Tacticus has not participated in any combat against real hostiles. While he has been extensively trained and there are several veterans on the team, there is no true substitute to the real thing. This also lends itself to his biotics skills being limited aswell.
Cabalist - At 15 when Tacticus joined the Turian military he was immediately separated from his classmen and put into a Cabal training program. Among biotic training Tacticus was also given heavily specialized training as a shock troop, meaning he is skilled with pistols, explosives, and infiltration.
Combat Biotic - Tacticus's biotics are strong enough for his abilities to be used as weapons on their own. Most of his abilties are focused on augmenting his own body for the time being. Though his manipulation of mass effect fields beyond his own body are limited he only needs his hands to punch a hole through most people and objects.
Pilot - As part of his training in the Cabal he is rated to pilot most vehicles if need be.
Background: Tacticus was born to 40 year old parents both of whom were special forces in the Turian military. This meant that after parental leave one of them had to retire from active combat to raise Tacticus, his father ended up volunteering for the job and took a position planning operations while his mother continued her active service. Since he was an only child Tacticus was given quite a bit of attention from his father which ended up shaping him into a shinning model of Turian selflessness. Though since his parents were both serving the military Tacticus never stayed on one planet or space station long. This meant he generally had few friends which he always knew he would have to leave behind, he never became very attached to them as a consequence. That changed however when his mother was injured during an operation and forced to retire from her active combat position. When Tacticus was given the news he was pulled out of his class. The young Tacticus was so distraught learning this he accidentally discovered his biotics. From that point on Tacticus isolated himself from others his age as he did not want to hurt them. His parents knew that this would force him into the Cabals when he turned 15 so they decided it was best to wait out the last few years and provide support as best they could.
When Tacticus was signing his life to the Hierarchy he was afraid of what his fellow soldiers would think of him in basic. He knew the stigma he was facing, after all his own parents didn't trust him when he first found out. While the following year was not as bad as he thought it would be it still left him alone whenever they were not doing exercises or general training. But when all of their assignments were being dolled out Tacticus was immediately assigned to the cabals. Thus began his grueling two years of training.
An odd thing happened though when he became apart of the all biotic strike force. He finally felt like he was home. Most people in the cabal he was assigned to had similar stories to his and it made Tacticus feel like he truly fit in somewhere. The companionship Tacticus built up with his Cabal through blood, sweat, and tears during their demanding endurance exercises and the fact that they were alone together made him become extremely close with his squad and vice versa. The squad spirit that was exemplified through their well oiled actions later in training was one of power and determination to assist the Hierarchy in any way possible.
Recently the squad was given a handler and moved to the outer reaches of colonized space. They are set to provide security in the Pylos Nebula and to deal with any more dangerous elements that always pop up on new colonies. Currently however they have been assigned to a ship that will act as their temporary home. |
1,395 | 30 | 35 | 739 | 6,473 | Avatar started to move up as well once its allies advanced under the protection of the biotic barriers, but before rounding the corner and coming into the view of the enemy, it activated its tactical cloak to render itself mostly invisible. With its allies attracting the attention of the enemy, the probability of visual detection was below 10%. A tactic often employed by Geth platforms known as "hunters" was to use a tactical cloak to close in on the enemy with close-range weaponry in order to execute a lethal surprise attack, which was exactly what Avatar intended. As Sura was tossing the grenade, Avatar informed its allies of its intentions via their radios, as it had no need to speak aloud in order to communicate with them. "I will advance along the right wall." It warned to prevent friendly fire.
Once the grenade detonated, Avatar stepped through the barrier and rushed forward to close the distance to the enemy. The explosive had detonated just in front of the hostile group, catching two of the Turians within the lethal radius of the blast, while the other two Turians dove to the ground away from the blast. The Krogan behind them was within the blast radius, but the Turians had acted as enough of a barrier that only his shields were drained. As the surviving Turians tried to scramble to their feet, the Krogan reached to his belt for his own grenade, but by that point, Avatar was well-within range. First and foremost, Avatar concentrated on preventing the attack on its allies by aiming its shotgun straight for the Krogan's hand. Despite the armor he was wearing, the close-range blast mangled the Krogan's hand. This prevented his use of his grenade, but due to the pain-cancelling properties of a Krogan's redundant nervous system, he was far more angered by the attack than discouraged. In a rage, he let out a scream, which Avatar judged to be an attempt at intimidation, then charged at the Geth which had suddenly appeared in front of him. | Name: Avatar
Species: Geth
Age: 376 years since program’s creation
Gender: N/A
Weapons/Equipment:
-Geth Pulse Rifle v3
-Geth Plasma SMG v3
-A combat platform with greater capabilities than a standard Geth unit.
Skills and Abilities: Like most Geth, it is a tech expert with strong hacking capabilities. It has tech-based abilities (incinerate, cryo blast, etc) and is equipped with a tactical cloak. Its advanced mobile platform is quite durable. As its body is made from tough alloys with powerful synthetic muscles, it is capable of strength beyond that of an organic of similar size. It also has the accuracy and reaction time one would expect from an advanced machine.
Background: For most of Avatar’s existence, it was but a single Geth program, with little more than rudimentary instincts and completely reliant upon the presence of other Geth to attain intelligence. That, however, changed in the midst of the Reaper War. In the aftermath of the battle with the Creator fleet at Rannoch, all Geth were given Reaper upgrades that uplifted them to become true A.I. Avatar was given its name by a group of organics it fought alongside during the Battle of Earth, and decided to keep that name in order to facilitate easier communication with organics.
After the end of the war, Avatar filled many roles. At first most of the Geth’s efforts were on rebuilding what was lost at Rannoch and helping the Creators resettle on the homeworld. The efficiency of the Geth’s planning coupled with the eagerness of the Quarians to re-establish their home made the process rather quick. Avatar spent a few years inhabiting the suits of Creators, mimicking the effects of viruses to help them to rebuild their immune systems. Over time, cities were erected on the surface of Rannoch, and more and more Creators were able to live without their suits, though most still chose to wear them due to tradition.
Eventually, Avatar’s role shifted away from rebuilding and into security. Due to the weakened state of the galaxy in the years after the war, piracy and other forms of crime were becoming increasingly common. All Geth were capable of combat when installed in the correct platform, but Avatar had a desire to help, and through years of fighting, it had developed memory shortcuts in relation to combat that would make it more effective than programs that had not incorporated said shortcuts. Avatar has served ever since as a combat platform, patrolling sectors near the borders of Geth/Quarian space, and sometimes even in the territories of other species, when requested.
Most recently, Avatar has been assigned to accompany a group of Creators who have been tasked with preparing the way for the first Quarian settlements in the Pylos Nebula. Avatar’s assigned mission is to discuss Geth habitation of the planet with the locals and make other preparations for the Geth. Any Geth could perform that task, but due to the dangerous nature of the Attican Traverse, they felt it appropriate to send a combat platform for additional protection. |
1,396 | 30 | 36 | 2,025 | 3,680 | Voira was grinning, now that the original flinching of having bullets bounce off of her shield was gone it was an exhilarating feeling to stop bullets with nothing more than her biotic abilities. She waited patiently for the turians to ready themselves for the coming explosion, acknowledging Avatar's warning with a brief nod. Just kill the damn Krogan first shot. She thought, hoping the Geth would be smart enough to do that. Voira certainly couldn't activate her radio, unless they all wanted to be eating bullets.
As soon as the call for the shield to be dropped happened, the Asari let a hole in her biotic barrier appear. Her grin only grew as she saw the grenade bouncing into the enemies, shredding two Turians and seeming to the other two off of their feet. Unfortunately, the Krogan was largely unaffected. "Damn Krogans and their annoying tendency to stay alive far longer than they should! Why can't these guys have been cheap and not hired one of them?" Voira complained.
Even more unfortunately, Avatar didn't shoot the Krogan multiple times in the skull to stop the grenade throw. Rather, the geth opted to shoot it merely in the hand. Stopping the grenade, certainly, but merely inconveniencing the bastard. Voira immediately dropped her shield as she saw the krogan roaring and begin to charge. Voira biotically charged forward herself, slamming into the mercenary and stumbling backwards. Biotic powers or no, the damn thing had more mass and strength behind him. The Asari wasted no time, using her biotics to lift the Krogan temporarily in the air.
"Avatar, deal with the turians before they shoot us!" She snapped, pulling out her assault rifle and firing, hoping that she had put the anti-armor rounds in this one. "Poison rounds!? Shit. They'll have to do!" Voira cursed. | Name: Voira Sirosi
Species: Asari
Age: 125
Gender: Female
Appearance: Voira
Voira is unnaturally tall for an Asari, standing at 6ft exactly. She attributes it to her father.
Weapons/Equipment:
-Thunder Assault Rifle
-Viper Shotgun
-Two Razer pistols
-Bottle of Ryncol
-Omni-tool, which she only uses for application and storage of her large supply of omni gel, and as a melee weapon in a pinch.
-Several different types of ammos (specifically, shredder rounds, Anti-armor rounds, poison rounds, and explosive rounds.)
Skills and Abilities:
-Powerful biotic. Due to rigorous training in biotic strength from her adoptive mother and the variety of skill sets she learned from her adoptive family, Voira is both a powerful biotic and a versatile one
-Skilled combatant. Another thing her adoptive mother and family’s insisted on. From a young age(50, to be exact) Voira had been trained in combat by all members.From the training of the Serrice Guard, to pirate combat, to Krogan battle training, Voira has been taught well.
-Field Medic. Voira is good at patching people up, if Omni-Gel isn’t on hand, especially during the heat of battle.
Background:
Voira knows firsthand what it’s like to lose everything in an instant. She was still a child at 48 years old when the Reapers finally made it to the Asari home world. She lost both her biological parents(A Krogan for her father) and her twin sister. That was the most devastating blow. While she had loved her parents, she had had a deep bond with her sister that was only increased by their biotic abilities. They could hear each other’s thoughts, feel what the other was feeling and were even referring to themselves in plural rather than singular. They were, in short, inseparable. Then the Reapers came, and Voira’s world was remade in fire and ash.
She doesn’t remember much of the actual event. Bits and pieces. She remembered panic, fear, running, hiding, praying to the Asari goddess, a collapsing building, and being trapped alone. Then there was a blinding red light, blistering pain, and a screaming in her head she thought would never stop.
She didn’t know how long it had been when she woke to the sounds of people arguing. Someone, with a deep gravelly voice, wanted to leave. Someone else wanted to stay and look for ‘the extraction target’ a little while longer. Other voices commented for or against the idea of leaving, but those were the ones Voira heard the most. She tried calling for help once. All that came out was a soft rasp. She tried twice, and winced at the pain in her throat. The voices sounded like they were going away, leaving. Panic filled her and Voira screamed for help. Pain wracked her body and she ended up coughing violently, tasting blood coughed up from her ravaged throat.
Despite the pain, her cry for helped work. Through the familiar and comforting blue glow of biotics, her tomb of rubble was removed. The first face she saw was an Asari, reaching down to haul her out. Voira sobbed in relief, wrapping her arms around the mercenary, pressing her face against the emblem on her chest. The other Asari’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close. The last thing Voira heard before falling back unconscious was, “We’re taking her with us.”
When Voira next awoke, she was on a strange ship, with the same Asari sitting next to her, quietly watching. After introductions were done and it was explained, where she was and that, that she wasn’t well enough to leave on her own, Voira slipped back into sleep. Almost Every time she woke up, Voira found Dahlia, as the Asari had introduced herself, sitting there. Sometimes she would look ragged, as if she had just come from a fight, but she would always be quietly there, waiting and watching over her. They would talk, quietly, and then Voira would grow tired again and slip back into sleep. It continued like this for an uncertain amount of time for Voira, before she was well enough to wander the ship on her own. The war had been won in her rest. The Reapers destroyed, the human Shepard dying to activate the Crucible. Voira didn’t care. It had finally hit her. Her family was dead, her other half killed by the burning beam of the Reapers. What did she have to live for?
Tevura caught her the first time. Biotics knocked the pistol from her hand and pinned her to the wall. Ignoring her screams of rage and curses, the mercenary commander merely looked at her with sad, understanding eyes. Various others stopped her next dozen tries. A Krogan, a human, another Asari, and a Quarian being the most frequent. Finally, Tevura’s eyes went from sad and understanding to hard and pitiless.
She told Voira, bluntly, that she was acting like a selfish child, that her family and least of all her twin wouldn’t want her killing herself needlessly, and if she felt like explaining to her family why she was so selfish as to join them before she had to die it was her choice. Before she exited the door she made one final comment. If Voira chose to live, Tevura would want to adopt her. She then left Voira with a pistol. For a long time Voira stayed in that room. Multiple times she almost did it. She put the gun to her head and nearly pulled the trigger. Finally, she put it down for good. Tevura was right, her family wouldn’t approve and she couldn’t tell if she was more afraid of their condemnation when she met them in whatever afterlife there was, or if the idea of ‘Embracing eternity’ permanently was what terrified her.
She walked out into the hallway, smiling slightly at the clear relief on Tevura’s face, and said she accepted. What followed next was decades of training by her new adoptive family. Over time she began to see them not as those who took her in and finally as her new family. Even Tasi, who scared her sometimes, she grew to love. She even met what she considered to be her extended family, that is, the surviving Barbacus crew. About thirty-five years ago, she hit the maiden stage and declared herself ready to go see what the universe had to offer. Tevura(who had told Voira her secrets long ago), agreed to let her go, but made sure she was prepared.
The next several decades were spent wandering, getting into adventures with mercenary groups and generally exploring the universe and what it had to offer. She never stayed in one place for very long, always moving on to see the next big thing the universe had. She hunted thresher maws with Krogans, fought(and was nearly killed by) a Drell assassin, and even charged into the teeth of a battalion of Elcor soldiers. However, the experience she remembers most fondly is when she met Raa’Kina.
The Quarian was trying to back out of a shady deal with five Turians who were rather…insistent that she pay them for services rendered, one way or another. When, after a comment by the Quarian, the Turians started getting a little too touchy with the Quarian Voira decided to intervene. Two of them were dead before they realized what was happening, and the rest were knocked over by a biotic blast while the Quarian rapidly backpedaled into cover. What happened next was a traditional firefight, with them both to busy concentrating on not dying to do introductions. After the remaining Turians were killed they introduced themselves. Raa’Kina was so naïve and cheerful and friendly that Voira couldn’t just leave her alone.
What started out as a simple escort to safer areas turned into, after some time talking to Raa’Kina, into a decision to not let the Quarian go on her own through her pilgrimage. At least for a little while.
She’s still following Raa.
Misc Details:
-Voira’s favored drink is Ryncol, a drink she picked up from her aunt Kalros.
-While on a trip to Earth with her uncle Dave, Voira picked up the habit of smoking. More specifically, Earth Cuban Cigars. She quit years ago, but she still carries around a pack of them. Not to smoke, but to chew on when she’s thinking hard or to smell to calm nerves.
-Voira still refers to herself in plural. I or me becomes we, mine becomes ours, etc. |
1,397 | 30 | 37 | 1,445 | 9,375 | Donny was rushing ahead of the group feeling rather anxious. Part of him thought that it was a bad idea to split up. Alexander, Rosemary, and Aman should have stayed with him and the group. Divided we fall and all that. Donny did get to go far however before one of the aliens caught up to him, the Quarian named Raa. To his surprise, he wasn't in fact going to walk to his death by himself. Raa, along with her bodyguard Voria, the Geth, and the rest of the turians were coming along. He was certain most of the turians would have gone their separate direction, but Donny wasn't going to make comments about it now. With everyone backing him, Donny allowed himself to jog a bit slower so that the rest could follow.
With Donny was the Geth, whom the human noted that he'll have to figure out his name if he had one. The two turned the corner just in time to see some turians and a krogan open fire. Fortunately they moved moved back into cover before they got perforated, but the situation was certainly sticky. However the group acted quickly with Voria creating a barrier and the turians chucking a grenade at the enemy, using their own biotics to enforce the barrier. The explosion killed two, but the krogan and a few turians still stood. While this was the first time Donny has ever "faced" a krogan, even he knew of their legendary durability. The Geth radioed in that he was going to stealth in, but Donny wanted to stop him. If he was going to go in he needed back up. Donny moved around the corner with his shotgun ready, shortly after the geth shot the krogan. Despite being hit point blank the krogan just seemed annoyed at his mangled hand and charged at the Geth.
Donny was making a mad dash towards the Geth, just barely avoiding Voria who charged down the hall and into the Krogan. She followed up by lifting the krogan off the ground and shooting him while he was helpless. By this point Donny was close enough to see each of the targets, and they were within effective range of his shotgun. He activated his Barrier and then a Charge strait towards one of the hostile Turains. With a shotgun loaded for Anti-Personal rounds, Donny sent one bouncing off the wall and shot other turian on the ground. | Name: Donny "Dong" Yang (Dong was the nickname he was given during training. It's on his dossier now)
Species: Human
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Weapons/Equipment:
Primary: Storm Shotgun I
Secondary: Kessler Pistol I
Explosive: Cain Trip Mine
Armor: Light Mercenary Armor IV
Supplementary: Military Grade Ariake Omnitool IV
Personal Effects: A tribal knife (Donny calls it "Grandpa's Knife")
Skills and Abilities: Donny is a well trained Vanguard for the System Alliance. He's put a lot of focus on honing his biotic powers, though he is also handy with a shotgun. He has access to Barriers, Biotic Charges, Nova, Pulls, Shockwaves, and keeps a good Fitness. He also makes use of Cyro Ammunition to immobilize his targets. When it comes to hand-to-hand combat Donny is also quite capable, augmenting his strength with his biotic powers as well as utilizing various melee weapons. He has a particular fondness for knives and axes.
Outside of combat however, Donny is a stickler for rules and laws. While he lacks the cunning to bend the laws like a lawyer, he could make for a decent officer of the law if he wasn't prone to acting on his own either. And while he follows the rules well enough, he has the sense and willingness to ignore them when necessity demands, as well as uphold them when he must.
Donny also has various skills in arts and crafts, largely stemming from his hobby developed during college. Donny also has skills playing the saxophone as he was once part of his highschool and college jazz club, though he hasn't really picked up the instrument since he joined Systems Alliance military.
Background: Donny had a legacy to uphold. A fairly minor one, all things considered, but for him and his family it was an important one. His grand father participated in the defense of Earth during the Reaper Wars, becoming one of the many heroes who were willing to lay they lives on the line to defend their home. He served as one of the men who volunteered themselves to stem back the tusk of reaper controlled minions, holding the line long enough not only to survive that nightmarish day, but to see the future that Commander Shepard had made for humanity.
After the war, Donny's grandfather quickly retired due to the massive PTSD he received. But he was able to recover long enough to have children. Donny's father was the youngest of four, and Donny himself the youngest of four children from him. From a young age, Donny's father was proud of his father's accomplishments as a soldier, but his grandfather refused to let his son join the System Alliance or the military. He didn't want his children to face the same thing he did. But even so, Donny's father did his best to uphold his father's legacy. And he did so by joining the Ariake Technology firm, which he was able to do thanks to the extensive network of friends and contacts he made during college. By the time Donny was ten years old, his father had managed to get himself to the position of manager.
The combination of his father's own wealth as well as the accomplishments of his grandfather made sure Donny was born with a silver spoon, but also underneath a huge shadow. Growing up, Donny was never really motivated to "Excel". He did live with the future expectation that he was going to take care of his parents, just as his own father took care of his grandfather and grandmother (In Donny's family, the youngest son takes care of the parents when they are too old to work for themselves), but as far as personal ambitions went, Donny was fairly simple minded. He enjoyed slacking off more than he enjoyed working, even when he only had to work with problems that were, all things considered, easy. He wasn't exactly spoiled, but that didn't mean he wasn't lazy when it came to work. he felt that it was more important to appeal to his family than it was to appeal to his education. But even so, he continued to disappoint.
Growing up Donny lived under the shadow of not only his father and grandfather, but by the rest of his family. His mother was much better at public relations than his own father was; while he could crunch numbers and make sure the deliveries happen on time, his mother was more-or-less leading the commercial and marketing division. Donny's older brother became a doctors who would work as an equal amongst the likes of salarians. His sister became a politician and potential candidate for Prosecutor General. Even Donny's little sister was going to be an aspiring artist, and was already part of a popular video game developer, publisher, and distribution company working as one of their magic graphic designers. As for Donny himself...
Donny lacked any aspiration but to hopefully be able to take care of his parents. Even when he had very little idea of "how" he was going to take care of them, considering that he never even bothered to learn the family business. He had very few accomplishments under his belt that wasn't dwarfed by the achievements of his siblings. His only true saving grace is the fact that out of the four siblings, he has the best relationship with his grandfather. Years after the reaper wars, Donny's grandfather, after the death of his wife and Donny's grandmother, lived the rest of his life making knives, much like the one he used in the reaper war. Donny was interested in his grandfather's hobby and learned much from him, listening to his stories and talking to him about current events. They compared Donny's naive interpretations to his grandfather's wizened experience. It was those time that Donny built the foundation of his childish ambitions. He wanted to become someone like his grandfather; a hero.
But Donny's own father wasn't quite so accepting to this idea. Largely due to the fact that his own grandfather did not allow him to become a soldier, he made Donny go to college to learn how to manage the business with Ariake Technologies. But Donny had no desire to maintain his studies at the college. He barely attended for more than a year before Donny flunked out. His father was enraged and demanded Donny to return to college, but by this point the young boy was now a young man. He had resigned from college to join the System Alliance, using his family's credentials to earn him a place amongst the military. Since than the relationship between Donny and his family had become strained, and he doesn't even know how his grandfather feels about this turn of events. But Donny had only one ambition, and for once, he wanted to feel like he was more than just their "son". He wanted to be great. He wanted to think that he was capable of more than just upholding a legacy, but making one himself.
Training with the System Alliance was certainly harder than college however. Donny was beaten, broken, and tossed aside (metaphorically speaking, but it happened literally a few times as well), but unlike in college Donny had the drive to continue onward. Basic training went by quickly but painfully. During that time he also discovered his latent biotic abilities. When Donny came to the realization of what he was capable of, he jumped on the opportunity without any forethought of what sort of pain he was going through. Since he lacked the conditioning from youth, the lessons he underwent to hone his biotic abilities were harsh and brutal, along with the standard course for his regular military training. It was not BAaT, but with how much damage Donny was doing to himself one would think they were bringing the practice back. But no, Donny simply allowed himself to suffer the pain and torment of his training to achieve his childhood ambition. His naive and thoughtless desire to become some concept of a "hero". But first he had to become a soldier.
Donny spent a good portion of his "Military Career" training, largely due to his lack of previous experience with his latent biotic powers. From the age 19 to 23, he spent drilling and honing his biotic abilities with military efficiency. He made very few friends, and those who did either dropped out or graduated due to having more innate abilities than he did. But he did not allow himself to quit. He felt that he had given up the only thing he had already. He had thrown away the honor of his family to pursue this desire of his, and he couldn't bare the thought of returning to them defeated. He'd sooner take his own life than to betray his ambitions. Within four years he was deemed competent enough to be allowed to officially serve as a System Alliance soldier.
It was a great moment for Donny, one of many he hopes to have in his life. To him, the door to being the hero he imagined that his grandfather had become was finally open to him. It was a road full of risk, failure, and disappointment. But for once Donny did not dwell on those negative aspects. He only saw what he could accomplish, and vowed to make good use of what he was now able to do.
It wasn't long before Donny was given his first assignment, and a fairly big one at that. He was to accompany a of soldiers with a System Alliance to provide military assets, along with protecting one of their diplomats on a new colony. Donny had never left Earth before, and now he was going to travel to the far reaches of the universe to find a new planet where he could potentially live. It was a big step for him. Big enough that, for once in the last four years, he contacted his family.
The first person he spoke to was his older brother. They had a fairly decent understanding of one another, brotherhood and all, which allowed him to get into contact with his sisters. His elder sister worried greatly for him due to her knowledge of the colony and warned Donny not to hurt their relationship with the alien colonist. His little sister was annoyingly casual about it, asking him to bring back souvenirs. But she also expressed the desire for him to come home, which he was able to pick up amongst her requests. Next was his mother, whom he barely was able to speak to due to the tears she was practically shedding through the phone. But she wanted to tell Donny that she forgave him for quitting college and that she would still love him regardless of what path in life he chose. His father was "Unavailable" at the time, though he didn't pry further to discover if he simply didn't want to talk to him or not. And than there was his grandfather.
Donny would have three days before he would board the ship that would take him to the new colony. Within those three days he visited his grandfather while the rest of the family was out. There he and Donny had a talk about the path he was on. His grandfather explained to him the horrors he faced before he even fought the Reapers. His time against a horde of krogan shocktroopers, the horrors of the heretic geth and their reaper-empowered servants, even the slaughter that happened when a thresher maw of all things made planetside right on top of an outpost he was stationed at. He warned Donny against joining the System Alliance and told him that he could pull some strings to get Donny to at least stay on Earth. But Donny told his grandfather that he was going to go. He was going to keep the promise he made to himself to be a hero, and he can't be one here. He had to go out into the world and be part of that change, not just wish and support it with words and ideals. His grandfather solemnly accepted this, knowing that his grandson was dead set. So he gave Donny something that would help him: his combat knife he used to great effect during the Reaper War. It was not a standard issue design, but rather made by Donny's own grandfather using military grade composite metals. A blade worthy of a the Spectres.
But that wasn't the only gift Donny would receive. The last day before he would leave to the new colony his father had delivered him a gift: An advanced suit of armor and an Omnitool, both from Ariake Technologies. There was no letter or message with them aside that it came form his father, but Donny understood why he gave him these things. He wanted his son to be alive. He wanted him to come home one day. Despite not being standard issue, Donny donned his father's armor and Omnitool, gathered his equipment, and took his first step off Earth and into the brave new world. |
1,398 | 30 | 38 | 134 | 1,314 | “I am honestly concerned for his mental health if he truly and strongly believes that the Hanar are going to be handed a political position on the Citadels Council, or any position at all for that matter. You do remember what happened when one of them became a Specter right? He was on the verge of starting a holy crusade for the Enkindlers. Thankfully the council stepped in and stopped the mass stupidity before it caused any real damage. If they want to be part of the council they need to put in the effort to show they are willing to cooperate with the other species and accept the fact that there are other religions in the galaxy.” Solares crossed his arms over his chest and let out a small chuckle, shaking his head back and forth a couple of time, remembering those more or less entertaining times. “Of course I remember those days, I honestly have to say I felt bad for him, almost felt bad for him I mean.” Aviza stood next to Solares, leaning over a table that had an interactive holographic image of the ExoGeni Corporation facility on Noveria. “Sorry to change the subject but did I mention that this facility is a cluster fuck? Then again what would you expect from a bunch of elitist Salarian Scientists who try their hand at architecture. Why would they make this facility a maze, are they trying to keep their employees locked inside?” Aviza spun the hologram clockwise with her hand to look at its main entrance.
“I was told they are working on renovating the facility, trying to make it more friendly and accessible, which is a sick joke coming from ExoGeni.” Solares walked over to Aviza and closed the hologram, “Honestly, it’s not important for now, once we arrive at Noveria we can ask for full blueprints of the facility.” Aviza opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by the sound of beeping coming from her personal Data assistant. “We have a message from command, there’s one assigned to you and one to myself.” Aviza forwarded Solares’s message to him within a couple of seconds. “You are here by ordered by AGTSAT to protect a diplomat of the highest importance with your life while discussions are made by him and fellow members of said party.” Solares shrugged lightly before putting his personal data assistant away and crossing his arms over his chest once more. “Did you get the same message or am I doing this mission alone.” Asked Solares before Aviza held up her own personal data assistant so Solares could read the message. “Classified Mission of top priority, report to AGTSAT with your ship immediately.”
He paused for a moment, letting the message sink in. “Sounds like they trust your skills and talents more than mine. Keep in touch with me if you can Aviza, seems like we should both head out immediately.” Not long after, the two of them could be found in the armory of their ship, gearing as quickly as they could. Aviza usually went with the darker colored armor, due to the fact that stealth played a major part while on a mission. Solares on the other hand, had a custom set of armor that was a urban digital camouflage across most it. Once they both had all of their equipment and gear ready, they embraced each other for a while then headed to the main deck of the ship where in only a short while each of them would depart of their own assignment. Hours would pass before Solares found himself upon the small executive shuttle that was heading towards the unnamed space station, with Diplomat on board. “You have guarded someone of my importance before, right? It is highly imperative that I arrive to the space station and remain unharmed and safe at all times until we arrive back where we met. It is only then that you will receive payment and confirmation to your Military that the mission was a success.” The diplomat seemed to glare at Solares, waiting for a reply.
“Yes sir, I can honestly tell you without any doubt that you will be safe, and that no harm will come to you as long as you follow my instruction and stay by my side. I spent many years of my life among Special Forces so you have nothing to worry about. It seems we will be arriving early so just tell me where I should be and I will follow your orders swiftly and to the letter.” Solares spoke as he looked over his weapon and then attached a holographic MK-17 scope to his high-powered pistol. “Why do you use a scope on such a weapon?” asked the Diplomat who seemed quite nervous about the whole situation. “It’s a Mk-17 scope, just helps me hit someone stupid enough to attack me.” The pilot of the shuttle lined the spacecraft up with the space stations docking port, and gracefully attached the shuttle before giving the Solares and the diplomat the all clear. “If a fight does break out, I hope these walls can withstand heavy fire, if they can’t well then we are going to be in deep shit.” The diplomat looked over at Solares with a concerned look on his face. “That was a joke, wasn’t it? Please tell me that was a joke.” Solares smirked at the Diplomat before nodding his head, “Yeah it was, it’s illegal to make anything out in space non-bullet proof, or at least that’s what I have been told. The council doesn’t like having to handle incidents where people are sucked out into space because something was poorly constructed.” The Diplomat shook his head at Solares, “That is not funny, I will inform your superiors of this, mark my words.” Holding his pistol to the left to make sure the sights were lined up correctly, he simply responded by saying “You go ahead and do that.”
A good amount of time would pass as the other diplomats boarded the station and walked past Solares, some making eye contact with him and others completely ignoring his presence. Once things started to progress with the assignment, Solares was ordered to wait down the hallway around fifty feet away from the meetingroom untill further notice, which was honestly fine with him. He leaned up against the wall behind and lightly tapped his left foot in beat on the hard metal surface below him while music played from inside of his armored helmet that completely hid his identity. The song Reapers played from the small speakers in his helmet as he observed his surroundings, noticing the abnormal events that unfolded around him with caution and paranoia. He was bracing himself for something to happen and would be prepared for it if all hell to break loose, if it came to that. A group of guards ran past him and started to lock down doors, or it at least appeared to be that way. Rather far away from where he stood, he watched a Geth quickly and efficiently incapacitate one of the guards before eliminating him. “Things just got interesting…” he thought to himself before moving out of the hallway and taking cover in a small room. He prepped his weapons and gear before turning off his music, and readying himself for combat, the way he had been trained by Aviza. Leaving the room, he headed down an alternate path and tried opening a door to get into the room where he now heard gunfire erupting from.
Kneeling down on one knee, Solares pressed himself against the door and listened to what was going on within. It would have been better to observe the situation before taking any action upon the hostiles but the door was locked. He came to the conclusion that flanking the targets would be the best course of action, and would help give him the upper hand in combat for at least a moment or so. Finely collecting himself he quickly pulled the sniper rifle from its position upon the back of his armor and attached a close range scope to its rail. Running down the hall to the left of him, he could now hear footsteps nearby. Quickly taking the corner, he came upon a group of what appeared to be friendlies outside of a security station, fighting back against the Turians and other hostiles that were not far from where they stood. Raising his weapon, he took careful aim and fired his Black Widow, the sound of it most likely causing everyone including the hostiles to turn their attention to him. The bullet would travel straight through his target before hitting the wall behind him and disintegrating. Placing the rifle onto the back of his armor, he quickly equipped his pistol and moved up alongside the others, taking shots at the hostiles. | Name: Solares Vanore
Species: Turian
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Appearance:
(Digital Urban Camo without Garrus of course)
Standing at exactly six feet and one inch, Solares would closely resemble the other members of his species, though some features helped him stand out and be unique among those around him. Two black streaks of warpaint ran across his lower jaw and part of his cheeks, vanishing behind his head. After many years of hard physical training, he has toned his body to be very well fit and in shape for not only mentally intensive but also the physically intensive assignments that he seemingly ends up taking part in. Strangely enough, his eyes glow a soft blue, abnormally brighter than those of other Turians. Occasionally those who meet him for the first time are put off or made comfortable by the fact that it appears that he is glaring at him, or looking at them as if they are being judged. This couldn’t be further from the truth, do to his strict military training that he started at a young age, he has a very pronounced military physique about him. If someone would look closely enough at his neck while part of his armor was off, they would see a small Tattoo with the symbol of a Viper wrappings itself around a Hanar, and the words SERT above it.
Weapons/Equipment:
1: Black Widow Sniper Rifle
2: Piranha Shotgun
3: Executioner Pistol
4: Omni-tool =
5: Ashes Armor (Concept art)
6: Turian Frigate
7: Several different types of ammo and explosives
A: Inferno Grenade
B: Multi-Frag Grenade
C: Flash Gernade
D: Incendiary Ammo
E: Explosive Ammo
F: Armor-Piercing Ammo
G: Warp Ammo
H: Hammerhead Ammo
Skills and Abilities:
1: Devilishly Handsome
2: First Aid/Medicine
3: Carnage (shotgun)
4: Fitness
5: Tactical Armor
6: Assassination
7: Turian Agent
Background:
Seventy five long turbulent years had passed for the Turians since the defeat of the Reapers. They worked tirelessly to rebuild their crippled civilization upon their home world of Palaven. With the help of the other species of the galaxy, they were now entering a golden age as cities sprung up once more across the world as well as the galaxy. With every new city that was built, their population grew considerably. From within one of these new cities a Turian named Solares Vanore was born as an only child upon a wealthy military family. His parents sat at a high rank with the Turian armed forces. Commanding soldiers and issuing tactical commands were among some of their responsibilities. Though at a young age, his parents passed away, leaving him with all of their belongings as well as an an empty place to take their potion once he was fully trained and mature enough to handle such an important task.
After a year of living with his aunt and uncle upon a lower class part of the city, he was quickly drafted into the Turian military and began his intensive physical and mental training alongside many of his families’ closest and most trusted friends. With being able to choose who he would train with, he chose someone he had grown quite fond of, a female Turian who was part of the special operations squad known as “AGTSAT.” This female Turian was known by her close friends and family as Aviza, a lone wolf that had held off a squad of raging Krogan with a pistol that had two thermal clips, a handful of plasma throwing knifes and a single cyro frag while having suffered two broken ribs on the right side of her body.
She treated him harshly, viciously, stern and cold while in training, but outside of it showed that she truly cared for his well being, a tough love as some may call it. Many years passed as Solares’s skills and talents grew, showing that he was greatly interested in carrying his parent’s legacy as well as helping protect his people and the rest of the galaxy as a whole. Secretly on this side of all his training, his relationship with Aviza grew with every day that passed. The weapon of his choice was unsurprisingly the sniper rifle, which he studied, assembled, disassembled, and modified to learn every aspect about the weapon. It took many years for him to perfect, or at least master the sniper rifle and how to properly use it against enemies of multiple types in different scenarios and chalanges. “Take aim at your target, breath out slowly, stay calm and remember to take distance, angle, and speed into account before pulling the trigger."
"In almost every case, you will only have one chance to hit your target before they realize where you are and leave the area, or worse.” Aviza would to say to Solares. She would place a hand on his chest and push upon it roughly, “Deep breaths in, let them out slowly as I have showed you. Accuracy and stability are two of a snipers best friends, remember that and you should do well. I can only train you to a certain point, the rest you must learn on your own, out in combat, in the real situation. I won’t always be there to hold your hand and help you, unless you want me to be.” She would smirk lightly at Solares before pointing down the firing range. “Keep trying until I tell you to stop, or I will shove my boot up your ass.” Aviza is partly to blame for Solares’s colorful personality, like how he has a quick sense of humor as well as being a smartass at times.
This of course does not mean he is not a protective, proud, and honorable person, in fact he has quite the respectful personality. After many years of hard training he finely became a fully graduated and recognized Special Operations solider that worked under Aviza and “AGTSAT.” No one else knew expect for a couple of people but Solares and Aviza were now mates that lived together in a top end apartment overlooking a large garden area that was recently built for them. Solares’s thirst for knowledge did not end there though, he enrolled into advanced medical and first aid classes where he learned how to treat minor to advanced injuries across multiple species as well as numerous other useful skills. During that time, Solares learned that his parents had left him a First Class Turian frigate that he quickly customized to his and Avizas tastes.
Developing skills and learning how to use to an Omni-Tool was becoming even more popular among the military and Solares saw this as an opportunity to learn numerous skills that could improve his combat capabilities as well as improve upon his standing with fellow members of the military. On a visit to the Citadel one day, he stopped by the N7 memorial and learned about the feats that Commander Shepard and his team were known for. He of course had heard of them before but never really took the time to sit down and learn about each and every one of them. “Commander Shepard and crew, savior of the Galaxy and destroyer of the Reapers.” There were thousands upon thousands of documents, pictures, videos, firsthand accounts, artifacts and the such about what happened those seventy-five years ago. “I wish I could have met him, maybe someday I will meet someone from his crew.” He thought to himself.
Shortly after, his mate went on a three month long expedition that he was unable to attend due to the severity of the mission. During this time he worked on the Citadel for C-Sec, doing station wide security that he felt over qualified for, even more so when he had to clean up corpses from a firefight. The work did give him a new outlook on the life of other species on not only the citadel but across the Galaxy. Once he climbed the ranks, his superior informed him of a “closed doors” assignment that he wanted Solares to take part in upon the Citadel, down in the Wards, not far from Chroa’s Den. C-Sec discovered a Quarian who was unaware she was buying from illegal sellers, and had managed to contact the turians for another purchase. C-Sec used Solares to get into touch with Raa, who he convinced to aid them in playing bait for the operation.
She could provide information like where the deal was going on, how many were supposed to be and the such. The mission was going as planned before the Turian dealers started to apply pressure onto the Quarian, harassing her by raising prices on products that she needed as well as threatening to abduct her and turn her into a slave if she did not cooperate. Solares brought this left hand to the com on the side of his headset before describing the situation to his superiors, asking for what to do next. The Quarian started to slowly step backward before an Asari seemed to appear out of nowhere, unleashing her biotics upon the Turian dealers. “Things just got really interesting down here commander, permission to engage?” That question was answered as a soft almost inaudible click came from behind him, the three hostile Turian dealers and the Asari fell to the ground after being hit with nonlethal taser rounds.
“Good hit on the targets, but I think the Asari was trying to help, better not taking any chances though.” Solares climbed down the latter than led to his hiding place while the rest of the squad followed up behind him. “Move them to the C-Sec holding cells, I will be there shortly, keep the Asari in her own room though and for the love of god bring that Quarian with you.” Later that evening Solares would open the door to the Asari’s cell and motion for her to leave. “I am sorry about that Voira, we can’t take any chances here and I wanted to make...” he never finished his sentence. The Asari threw a punch and hit him directly in the face, there was a pause “That was unnecessary, then again I rather take that then being tossed against the wall with the force of a charging Krogan from biotics. You are a feisty Asari huh? I like that, good job back there by the way, both of you." He rubbed his jaw lightly before making sure it still worked.
“This is going to be a great friendship, I can tell already. I was told you two do not have a place to bunk for a while, and seeing that I have plenty of room in my apartment, I am willing to make an offer. You can stay with me for a while until you find a ride off the station and a place to live uh....together? Go gather your gear and meet me back here, then I will show you were you two will be bunking.” Not long after everyone had collected their gear, the three of them could be found walking through the living quarters that connected to a large number of expensive looking apartments that overlooked the presidium. Once inside of his apartment she shut the door behind him and crossed his arms over his chest. “Pick a room and a bed, feel free to use the kitchen and all other utilities as you see fit, if you have any questions please let me know, so go ahead make yourself at home. Please excuse me for a moment though, I am going to go take a shower and will return in a while.”
He vanished into his room for a moment before pulling out his Ashes armor and a full set of clothes. He then headed into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. “I hope they don’t try and do anything stupid.” He thought to himself before flipping on some music and turning on the shower.” Over time, Solares grew to enjoy their company and to trust them around not only him, his belongings but also his mate Aviza, who seemed to be slightly paranoid about the A.I. RK, and other unknown reasons. Many years have passed since then, both Raa and Voira tend to stop by Solares and Aviza’s apartment which has grown considerably in size since the first time they all met.
As of recent days, Solares and Aviza have been moving back and forth from AGTSAT to C-sec when the other side does not actively need help. He and his mate barely has any time to meet with their old friends. Though, only a couple days ago they received a message from the Turian Military asking for their assistance with a delicate matter. Without hesitation they took the job, but on the way Aviza was ordered to break off and head to the AGTSAT headquarters immediately with her ship for a mission of top priority. Disappointed by loosing his mate and his ship, he ventured forth to meet up with his contractor who apparently was a highly important diplomat named Felathor. Solares insured Felathor on the ride over to the space station that he had taken part in many of these types of missions and no harm would come to him while he was around. |
1,399 | 30 | 39 | 799 | 7,421 | Raa watched the others engage the turians and the single krogan, her visor taking in the scene. Voira had a wolfish smile on her pale lips, her eyes tighten in excitement while she was in her element, and her barrier holding off the bullets. The small popping sound and metal chunks ricochet off into the nearest wall. Raa pressed tighter into the wall as one nearly nicked her, the bullet stopped only her position and intention to keep still.
Instantly, Raa noted Voira drop her barriers when the head Turian female tossed a grenade through the gap. It flow almost beautifully and right into the enemy, sending two turians into lifeless corpses. The other two managed to escape the blast while the krogan merely shrugged off any minor damage, his shields dropped thanks to the drain. After the grenade was tossed, Avatar’s voice came over her radio causing her to look down, listening to his words before he suddenly vanished before her eyes. She had done some research over Geth hunters and knew partly of Avatar’s capabilities, though seeing it in action was another matter completely.
It all happened in seconds or at least, to Raa, it felt like it. Avatar suddenly appeared to the krogan’s side and let a blast fly from his shotgun, mangling the alien’s hand. He let out a fearsome and ferocious roar then charged. Naturally, her asari friend dropped her shield, creating a botic charge to distract the krogan. She was sent stumbling back and changed tactics, lifting the krogan into the air while getting her rifle. Shouting something, seemingly to Avatar, she started to fire on the enemy’s helpless form.
Meanwhile, the human had moved around the corner immediately after Avatar. Hsi body bolted for the Geth when it appeared the krogan was going to charge and nearly missing Voira. Raa’s body tensed, assuming the pair were going to collide, then forced herself not rush headlong into the fight. Inside the quarian knew the only reason Voira was protecting Avatar was because she promised to stick behind with the others, safe and sound. Inwardly she cursed her terrible fighting skills while she pushed herself small as she could get into the wall. She missed Donny activating his barrier and handling one of the remaining turian. He then unloading his anti-personal round into the wall and into a grounded turian, likely ending the struggle.
Raa thought the fight would end soon and all their surprises were over. She was dead wrong when a loud sound cracked from behind the diplomats. Her head jerked to the rear just when a bullet went flying past and then shot through one of the enemy down the hall’s other end. A turian, she determined by his armor figure and style, came rushing down the hallway with pistol in hand shortly after. His finger pulling the trigger to kill any remaining hostiles. She hadn’t seen him during the meeting or any time before, her eyes following his racing form rocketing down the hallway. Relaxing her fingers on her gun, she heard RK warn the others quickly over their radios.
“Not sure who the idiot booking his turian ass your way so might want to be on the defense boys. Considering he came from behind us, I don’t think he’s a hostile cause he came from behind us.” | Name: Raa’Kina (Raa for short)
Species: Quarian.
Age: 21
Gender: female
Appearance:
Raa’Kina, outside her suit, looks like most other Quarians her young age. She has the pale, humanoid figure with the bowed legs, three digit hands, and two toe feet, all of it standing at a total of 5’6” in height. Lean muscle and a subtle mix of curves grace her frame, including a modest bust, common in the fairer gender of her race. Under the mask, her face has soft, rounded features whenever she compares her own to her mother’s far more angular and mature ones. It seems her illuminating pupils tend to ooze empathy and scream naivety in every look, a trait she founds more annoying than elegant as some of her suitors put it. Two dark lines trace her neck front, branching off in the common found way, with two lines running from her slanted eyes to her hairline.
Though these traits are common, she also has her own personal design and choices in style that makes her stand out in her own right. Namely to give her more individuality compared to other Quarians her own age group. Her dark, raven black hair is cut short, shaggy with wavy bangs as its tossed naturally into a playful mess. Just at the nape of her neck is a single section left untouched and roped into a braid that reaches to the neck base, held together by wiring that holds personal value.
Weapons/Equipment:
Pistol- Basic and simple, she uses this to protect herself during her piligramage
Omnitool- Raa’Kina’s toy when she was younger was her omnitool, enjoying mathical algorithms to a streaming lines of data and much later became her must need item on her person at all times. It has both the most widely and common Quarian applications, alongside some of her personalized designed ones. One she’s very proud in is a navigation program that hasn’t failed her and was designed thanks to help from her human great aunt (adopted) Devryn.
AI- An artificial intelligence evolved from an older VI programming by her grandfather Pai’Seef. Since the Reaper War and the fact the AI had been helpful, her grandfather’s punishment was somewhat lighter than prewar times though he still willingly accepted it. Once known as Raa’Kina, the AI now goes by RK for short due to the two sharing a name. RK is blunt, logical yet has a sense Quarian nature to her interactions and expressions which makes it seem she is nothing more than another organic on the omnitool comm. Despite her emotional display in her visual, she can’t fully understand the emotions she shows or why they are appropriate for the occasion. Sometimes she can seem a bit insensitive or rude, her attitude designed by Pai’Seef and long since evolved into her own.
Skills and Abilities:
Software knowledge and talent- Raa’Kina is a logical, if cheerful individual, who is very talented in software area of technology. She can repair, rebuild, or salvage almost any sort of software there which makes sense why her homeworld believed she was a good choice for this mission. Sadly, like her grandfather who she inherited the talent from, her skills in actually building the machine is sadly is average compared to her software abilities.
Decent Shooter- Raa’Kina can and does practice the base marksman skills for her pistol, namely to prevent injuring someone who doesn’t deserve it. And that’s anyone who has the nerve to attack her or her allies. Sadly she’s not perfect in this skill and distance does tend to matter with her aim, the farther distance the target is from her location then the harder it is to hit it. However, she won’t shoot unless she’s got a high chance at hitting it.
Tech Powers
Basics:
Blow torch- basic engineer tool used for welding and cutting metals.
Scanner- determine flaws, damages, and other details on an inanimate object
Flashlight- enable to see in dark places
Dispenser- holds medi-gel and any converted omni-gel used for unlocking stubborn doors
Camera- able to take images and store them within her omnitool
Games unit- solution to boredom problems
Fash- able to cause a brief, overpowering flare of light that can blind surrounding enemies Duration: few seconds Recharge: 10 seconds
Hacking- able to jack into machines, doors, and even other omni-tools (later much harder)
Omni-blade- super heated, disposable blade used to peel off aged bolts
Sabotage: Overheats and disables weapons requiring the affected target to eject and reload their thermal clip before being able to use again. In addition, it can hack and turn hostile synthetics into allies.
Recharge Speed: 8 seconds or more (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Medium (target must be tagged/scanned before hand for hijacking a synthetic)
Target Number: 1
Dampener: Increases explosion radius of proximity mines, or like explosion items. It also shuts down both surrounding enemy tech and biotic abilities, temporary disabling a small group for a short time but at a high recharging time cost.
Recharge Speed: 40 seconds (3-4 posts estimated)
Range: Close (within eyesight)Target Number: small group (3-4)
Overload: Overloads electronics by creating a power surge and also stunning her enemies for a brief time. Effective against shields, barriers, and synthetics. Not nearly as effective on organics, if at all.
Recharge Speed: 8 or more seconds (once every 1-2 posts)
Range: Close (within eyesight)
Target Number: 1
Tactical Cloaking: By reflecting and wrapping light about the user, it renders them invisible. Sight is the only sense affected as the user can still be smelt, heard and felt if she careless enough. Once hit, the shield shuts down and the user is revealed back to a visible status. This doesn’t protect the user besides hiding her from sight, still allowing her to be hurt or possibly killed on discovery.
Recharge Speed: 20 seconds (2-3 posts, estimated)
Range: N/A
Duration: Short period, mostly depending on skill/story need
Target Number: N/A
Background:
Raa’Kina was born from Xemel’Sinara vas Aerata and Terna’Welyxi nar Rannoch, she is the second child in her family to be born on the newly rebuilt homeworld. For the most part, she could say her life was pretty average throughout her childhood. There of course was the natural slight changes to her race’s culture and views toward the Geth, the Reaper War nearly ushered every living thing into extinction had managed at least one positive thing after costing so many their lives. According to the dwindling elders’ stories, much has changed compared to their time. Technology studied from the Reapers brought most races to equal grounds when it came to life quality, advancement, and more. The biggest achievement in the Quarians’ view was gaining their own planet again. After everything that happened, the tension between the Quarians and Geth seem like a faint, distant memory compared to the modern age she lived in. Now a days on her homeworld, one rarely walked out onto the street without seeing the two races mingling in the sun’s dense rays, making her recall her grandfather’s last recorded words that this was an event that should’ve happened long ago.
When Raa’Kina reflects on her past, she only has a few memories, both good and bad, that stick up in her mind. Nothing she feels is interesting compared to her grandfather Pai’Seef’s or grandaunt Devryn’s experiences while working at Farian’s Ship Repair in their younger years. However, they are very hard to forget.
The youngest she can recall is at seven years old, she learned how dangerous it was when she wasn’t aware of her surroundings. Faulty and experimental machinery, developed from the Reaper War data, had malfunctioned bring the massive thing crumbling down the distracted girl. Geth and several Quarians had been chatting nearby when one unit noticed the event. She was lucky to come off with just a scratch, one of the nearest Geth units immediately spurred into action and scooped her away from the crash zone before she was killed. It took several minutes for her to calm down, her mother finally peeling her off the machine, and held her close in a comforting embrace. The bad part was she never got to thank the Geth who saved her personally.
Later, at the age of ten, she met another who shared the same name as herself. A curious AI, created and stood side by side with her grandfather, contacted her during the funeral. She was shocked such a being knew her, let alone having the same name. Curiosity won out over her caution, like usual, causing the pair to get very acquainted with one another through the common link: Pai’Seef. She learned, even to this day, much about the relative she hadn’t much chance to know better from his adventures during employment under Nasyrius’ Barbacus crew employed by the Farian Ship Repair to the Reaper War defense, as well as his punishment for creating the AI. Though RK, as she is referred to now as, suffered no ill effects, she disagreed with Quarian government’s punishment despite it being lessened due to services rendered and lives saved by his actions.
Intrigued by RK’s stories, Raa’Kina’s first destination on her pilgrimage was right into the most likely still surviving member who served with her grandfather, the asari Noami’lie Tynci. During the Reaper invasion, the asari lost her company in damages when it came to defending the planet and afterwards went into bankruptcy which had caused great heartache in the end. The only thing she managed to keep was the Barbacus, an asari light freighter in the destiny class, modified by both Pai’Seef and Devryn. It was here she learned what happened to the rest, learning the hard truth of why Noami’lie had kept the starship. Though Nasyrius died during the War, the two ended up having a daughter together named Nyasea who surpisingly seemed to have taken many traits from her father causing the Quarian to bid them farewell at the end of her visit.
She continued her pilgrimage for the next few months before she ended up getting roped into a deal with five Turians, currently involved with the selling of high level software at an ideal price. At first, she thought would be ideal for back home without thinking why they would've sold it at half the normal credits, taking their explanation it was second hand and per-owned. Things went terribly wrong when the Turians started to become more touchy than she was comfortable with. She started to withdrew her interest and they didn't take kindly to that, one of them immediately closing their three fingered hand about her arm to pull her back. Naturally Raa'Kina panicked. She went for her pistol, but one had managed to get behind and prevent her from drawing it. RK was about to do something when suddenly two Turians dropped, including the one holding her, causing her to duck behind the nearest cover. It was her first time ever being in a live gunfight while quickly showed her lacking skills in the area resulting her in getting a minor injury. RK embarrassed her some by uttering out why it was a bad idea as she showed her lacking experience in the world, something she inwardly believes her casually brushing off the incident didn't help her case.
So, for a another few years both Voira and RK accompanied her, herstrong desire to gain a rich experience and more driving her onward, much like the Barbacus’ crew had. Among her travels she encountered various colonies, aiding in their survival with her talent, which expanded her knowledge about others outside Quarian. Often it was in exchange for credits, place to stay or even pay for her next trip out though to say it was completely safe was an understatement. Piracy and theft had became more common in the following years, even though the Reapers no longer was a common threat, which had force Raa’Kina to start keeping her pistol locked and ready at all times. She had a few close calls but thanks to RK, they managed to avoid trouble well enough.
A few weeks ago, RK had received a message that she had been contacted and hired for aiding the colonization of a planet within the Pylos Nebula, the first time in their long history. It was a chance to explore and possibly benefit her homeworld most of all. Though KR logically predicted the odds that something would go wrong against the right, the AI kept her mouth shut, hitching a ride with the gruff Voira and naive Quarian youth. |
Subsets and Splits