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8,600 | 238 | 30 | 407 | 586 | William walked up to the master keeper and bowed his head as a sign of respect. "Sah'shi, my name is William. I understand the need for haste, so tell me only what you deem to be of vital importance, and after that if there is time we can ask more straight to the point questions." He looked around and saw that some of the other mercs were already starting to fill their hands and their pockets with whatever they could grab, loose tech, Collector weapons and even a few were snapping pictures. He looked at one of his people and nodded his head at one of the Collector bodies, the man knew exactly what he wanted, and handed William a Collector rifle, and then proceeded to pick up the Collector body with the help of another. A few of his other crew grabbed a few Collector weapons as well, and started hauling a few of the Collectors over to the entrance. If they could manage to get even one of their corpses back in one piece, it'd be worth a fortune.
For now though, the real treasure was something that this keeper had in his head, plans to fight the Reapers. Good thing it seemed to be in a cooperative mood. | Name: William Jones
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 24
Class: Soldier
Appearance: Tall with short red hair and blue eyes. Wears a mixed assortment of armour pieces.
Military Rank: Mercenary Captain
Personality: Calm under fire, has a quick wit, polite and friendly in his free time, ruthless in a fight.
Background: Born on Omega, his mother died in child birth, and his father died when he was ten in a bar brawl. He learned the ins and outs of Omega society quickly, who to befriend, who to help, and who to kill. He made friends with other orphans, and when he was sixteen he and his friends started working for an old Krogan who worked on a salvage ship. When he was twenty, he and his friends started work as freelance mercenaries, with a few joining the Blue Suns or Eclipse. Eventually he got his hands on a warship, and started recruiting people to join his crew. By the time he had enough for a skeleton crew, Omega was attacked by Cerebrus. He and his friends managed to get out of the system, along with a few other mercs and people who they liked from Omega. Now, they're trying to find somewhere to hide, or to make a last stand.
Starting War Assets:
Advanced Warship-The Lady Luck is a large Frigate class warship with a crew of two hundred, he won it in a card game, crew consists of mercs and a few refugees from Omega.
Veterean Fireteam-Him and the Fireteam have known each other since they grew up on Omega. |
8,601 | 238 | 31 | 1,347 | 749 | The insectoid blinked its large, focused eyes in a sense of indifference at William. Clearly bowing wasn’t something that these creatures acknowledged, but it knew the words that he spoke. Meanwhile the other Keepers continued their tasks, not noticing the newcomers. Some carried what appeared to tools and building materials of some kind.
“I must be brief. The Reaper you have no doubt seen out there is known as Chimera. He… it is a rogue element within the Reaper ranks. When our cycle came, we were to be harvested like the rest of our race, only their artificial constructs of ourselves were to remain… to maintain our creations, he allowed us to live.” Sah’shi said as it looked at the hologram that displayed a blueprint of a Mass Relay. “Now our creations are used to speed up their work.”
Sah’shi then began to walk towards the main terminal.
“If only there was more time… Chimera has a…”
But before Sah’shi could finish, the terminals and their energy turned to a solid red. A booming voice echoed throughout the entire greater vault.
“Sah’shi… why do you betray me?! Have I not kept my promise and kept you safe? All I ask for return is your obeisance…” | Name: Chimera
Race: Reaper
Age: 315 Cycles
Class: Sovereign
Appearance:
Military Rank: Vanguard
Personality: Chimera is a bit of an outlier when compared to other Reapers, he was jealous of Sovereign been chosen as the Vanguard of this cycle, believing that had ‘he’ been chosen, the Reapers would have already harvested the sentient races.
Background: Chimera was created 315-6 Cycles ago. Chimera was chosen to be the Vanguard of one hundred cycles throughout his ‘career’ as a Reaper, all which resulted in successful harvest without any abnormal levels of resistance.
Within his 30th Cycle, Chimera had decided it best to create a new ‘Staging Station’, the design was modified from the Citadel, focusing more on production and harvesting facilities where he would keep an army which he used when he was appointed as Vanguard. Each Cycle added more to the facility, making it more effective.
However, when Sovereign was chosen to be the Vanguard, Chimera grew jealous. He had been denied several Vanguard Cycles. Once word got out that Sovereign had been defeated. Chimera made it known that had he been picked, the failure would not have happened. |
8,602 | 238 | 32 | 1,299 | 2,431 | Captain Vakarian left the Council chambers and continued on towards the Docks where the Ad Victoriam was. In the Docking bay stood 3 rather important Figures. A female human, presumably from the Spec Ops team. A Turian sargent from the 43rd marines and an Asari Commando.
"Sargent Amy-Lee Martins, Spec Ops Team Delta. Current CO of The Black Thorn, Reporting Sir" the Turian nodded in her direction then turned to the others. "43rd are ready to move on your orders sir" the final speaker was the Asari. "Commandos are ready to run and gun as soon as you give the go"
MEANWHILE ON ARCADIA
Commander Faltus' troops began to file in as the mercs that william had left outside pushed the gate to the compound shut. "We will talk later" he said to the N7 Operative that he had spoken to moments ago. "Ok Asari get on the barricade you have first watch everyone else your on break for the next hour. eat your rations and get some rest. Taylor, Cortez. You two are on lookout keep an eye out for any unfriendly guests" | Name: Martius Faltus
Race: Turian
Sex(If Applicable): Male
Age: 28
Class: Infiltrator
Military Rank: Commander
Personality: Very Calm, ruthless fighter
Background: Faltus fought, alongside the Turian 7th fleet during the Relay 314 incident, joining the ground forces assault on Shanxi. Following the ceasefire between Turian and Alliance forces, Faltus left the 7th fleet to join C-Sec and defend the Citadel, it was here he met with the council to discuss his fate on the Citadel. After heated discussions with the Turian council representative , he was finally convinced to rejoin the Turian military and help defend Palaven with the Turian 43rd Marine Division. It was here that he was promoted to Commander by Primarch Adrien Victus and Transfered to Blackwatch and given control of a vessel very similar to the Normandy SR-2, along with a Heavy Attack Warship. Blackwatch was pulled from the homeworld by order of Primarch Adrien Victus, who wanted to mobilize this elite force in less hopeless situations across the galaxy. |
8,603 | 238 | 33 | 407 | 586 | William saw all the screens go red, then saw an image of the nine other than the very Reaper creeping outside. He looked around, searching for any screen not turned red, and saw a small device that showed holograms of some weird plans. He snatched it up quickly and hid it in his armour. "Lady Luck, I need you to use the biggest weapon we have on there. Aim for that fuckers eye." The Lady Luck powered up its main weapon and fired, nobody had any idea what the hell the cannon was or shot, but it grazed the side of the Reaper, though it did take out a small chunk of the Reaper. | Name: William Jones
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 24
Class: Soldier
Appearance: Tall with short red hair and blue eyes. Wears a mixed assortment of armour pieces.
Military Rank: Mercenary Captain
Personality: Calm under fire, has a quick wit, polite and friendly in his free time, ruthless in a fight.
Background: Born on Omega, his mother died in child birth, and his father died when he was ten in a bar brawl. He learned the ins and outs of Omega society quickly, who to befriend, who to help, and who to kill. He made friends with other orphans, and when he was sixteen he and his friends started working for an old Krogan who worked on a salvage ship. When he was twenty, he and his friends started work as freelance mercenaries, with a few joining the Blue Suns or Eclipse. Eventually he got his hands on a warship, and started recruiting people to join his crew. By the time he had enough for a skeleton crew, Omega was attacked by Cerebrus. He and his friends managed to get out of the system, along with a few other mercs and people who they liked from Omega. Now, they're trying to find somewhere to hide, or to make a last stand.
Starting War Assets:
Advanced Warship-The Lady Luck is a large Frigate class warship with a crew of two hundred, he won it in a card game, crew consists of mercs and a few refugees from Omega.
Veterean Fireteam-Him and the Fireteam have known each other since they grew up on Omega. |
8,604 | 238 | 34 | 1,299 | 2,431 | From the forward operating base that the Mercs and Turians had set up, Faltus' men could see the Reaper get blasted by the cannon of the Lady Luck. Cortez and Taylor were doing their job well, keeping the Cannibals and Husks at bay while the Asari kept the larger creatures at bay. Down inside the base Faltus and the other Turians were getting a much deserved break from the fight until he heard something from one of the snipers.
"Commander, we have incoming Cerberus troops. id get everyone rallied for the fight" the commander groaned loudly and got on the Comms to william. "Hey Merc, theres a problem topside, you might want to get up here and help"
MEANWHILE
The Ad Victoriam along with, The Black Thorn, The 43rd Marine fleet and the Asari Commandos arrived in the Utopia system near Arcadia.
"Commander Faltus. The cavalry has arrived. Get your seats ready for the gunshow" | Name: Martius Faltus
Race: Turian
Sex(If Applicable): Male
Age: 28
Class: Infiltrator
Military Rank: Commander
Personality: Very Calm, ruthless fighter
Background: Faltus fought, alongside the Turian 7th fleet during the Relay 314 incident, joining the ground forces assault on Shanxi. Following the ceasefire between Turian and Alliance forces, Faltus left the 7th fleet to join C-Sec and defend the Citadel, it was here he met with the council to discuss his fate on the Citadel. After heated discussions with the Turian council representative , he was finally convinced to rejoin the Turian military and help defend Palaven with the Turian 43rd Marine Division. It was here that he was promoted to Commander by Primarch Adrien Victus and Transfered to Blackwatch and given control of a vessel very similar to the Normandy SR-2, along with a Heavy Attack Warship. Blackwatch was pulled from the homeworld by order of Primarch Adrien Victus, who wanted to mobilize this elite force in less hopeless situations across the galaxy. |
8,605 | 238 | 35 | 1,347 | 749 | The Keeper’s face remained motionless; most likely due to the lack of facial muscles, but there was a sense of sternness behind this Keeper, a self-sufficient sense of confidence.
“Come with me please.” The Sah’shi spoke, leading the group past the terminals that flickered from red to blue as the Reaper continued to speak.
“Organics, hear me well for this is my only offer. Allow my presence into the vault, and you shall take your place by my side. As the last of your dying race, you can help shape the future of all galactic species. The Keepers are proof that I keep to my word.” Chimera spoke, his voice rumbling throughout the halls.
The Keeper, rather in rejection, agreed to the Reaper’s words.
“He is indeed correct. The chances of your race surviving this cycle are unlikely… and he gave us the same offer over two hundred cycles ago, and we’re still here today. It would be wise to accept if personal survival is your goal.” Sha’shi spoke, his voice unmoving.
Alex stepped forward, his hand in a solid fist.
“We’re not accepting any offer from that monster.” He yelled, his voice ripening with passion.
“Very well… It’s a shame we can’t take all this data with us. We only have enough time to download one data cache before we are overrun.”
Sha’shi moved over to a large holo-screen, on it the clear blueprints of a Reaper.
“Our first option is the most obvious… we designed the body of the Reaper... while we did our best to perfect its design, there are numerous weak spots we can exploit.”
After typing, the screen changed to a large foundry station, much larger than the Citadel.
“The next is Chimera’s personal foundry known as the Reaper’s Heart. Here he has unthinkable production capabilities. Its current location is unknown, but this is the full layout, access tunnels and such.”
Again, typing Sha’shi changed the image to the Citadel. However, to start it looks as normal, but suddenly sections of it swipe in from the sides, adding to its overall structure which looked fierce indeed.
“Your final choice is to unlock the Citadel’s combat form. The Citadel was designed to be a modular unit, capable of adapting quickly. We have spent many cycles designing a battle form that would be capable of withholding attacks from Reaper forces and capable of destroying them. As long as it is supported of course.” | Name: Chimera
Race: Reaper
Age: 315 Cycles
Class: Sovereign
Appearance:
Military Rank: Vanguard
Personality: Chimera is a bit of an outlier when compared to other Reapers, he was jealous of Sovereign been chosen as the Vanguard of this cycle, believing that had ‘he’ been chosen, the Reapers would have already harvested the sentient races.
Background: Chimera was created 315-6 Cycles ago. Chimera was chosen to be the Vanguard of one hundred cycles throughout his ‘career’ as a Reaper, all which resulted in successful harvest without any abnormal levels of resistance.
Within his 30th Cycle, Chimera had decided it best to create a new ‘Staging Station’, the design was modified from the Citadel, focusing more on production and harvesting facilities where he would keep an army which he used when he was appointed as Vanguard. Each Cycle added more to the facility, making it more effective.
However, when Sovereign was chosen to be the Vanguard, Chimera grew jealous. He had been denied several Vanguard Cycles. Once word got out that Sovereign had been defeated. Chimera made it known that had he been picked, the failure would not have happened. |
8,606 | 238 | 36 | 407 | 586 | William looked at all the designs, and made doubly sure that his recorder we was getting it all. This information is definitely worth a large amount of credits, especially to Aria, she'd know exactly who to sell it to. When he heard that the Cereberus troops were pushing up, he looked around and made sure that all his troops could see him. "Commander Faltus, I'm heading up top to deal with the Cerbs. I'll leave you teams two and four to watch over. I'll be back as soon as I can, so don't do anything I wouldn't. Alright boys lets go." He ran topside with his own team and two others, heading to to flank where the Cerbs were hitting hard. | Name: William Jones
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 24
Class: Soldier
Appearance: Tall with short red hair and blue eyes. Wears a mixed assortment of armour pieces.
Military Rank: Mercenary Captain
Personality: Calm under fire, has a quick wit, polite and friendly in his free time, ruthless in a fight.
Background: Born on Omega, his mother died in child birth, and his father died when he was ten in a bar brawl. He learned the ins and outs of Omega society quickly, who to befriend, who to help, and who to kill. He made friends with other orphans, and when he was sixteen he and his friends started working for an old Krogan who worked on a salvage ship. When he was twenty, he and his friends started work as freelance mercenaries, with a few joining the Blue Suns or Eclipse. Eventually he got his hands on a warship, and started recruiting people to join his crew. By the time he had enough for a skeleton crew, Omega was attacked by Cerebrus. He and his friends managed to get out of the system, along with a few other mercs and people who they liked from Omega. Now, they're trying to find somewhere to hide, or to make a last stand.
Starting War Assets:
Advanced Warship-The Lady Luck is a large Frigate class warship with a crew of two hundred, he won it in a card game, crew consists of mercs and a few refugees from Omega.
Veterean Fireteam-Him and the Fireteam have known each other since they grew up on Omega. |
8,607 | 238 | 37 | 1,299 | 2,431 | Aye Aye soldier. The fleets returned as well so we can take some heat away from the reaper while you deal with Cerberus Commander Faltus turned and looked at the men which were under his command "Alright ladies our job is to keep this base secure until your commander comes back. Get up onto those barricades and show Cerberus why they dont mess with the Terminus system" a resounding 'Oohah' from the men that William left behind was the best thing Faltus had heard all day. I was a tremendous sight to see aswell, Asari, Humans, Turians, Batarians all stood together on a barricade knowing that the only people they had to rely on now was the guys stood either side of them. Silence fell over the battlefield as the Cerberus dropships landed. "Hey merc, if either of us dont make it out alive. You did good kid just wanted to tell you" | Name: Martius Faltus
Race: Turian
Sex(If Applicable): Male
Age: 28
Class: Infiltrator
Military Rank: Commander
Personality: Very Calm, ruthless fighter
Background: Faltus fought, alongside the Turian 7th fleet during the Relay 314 incident, joining the ground forces assault on Shanxi. Following the ceasefire between Turian and Alliance forces, Faltus left the 7th fleet to join C-Sec and defend the Citadel, it was here he met with the council to discuss his fate on the Citadel. After heated discussions with the Turian council representative , he was finally convinced to rejoin the Turian military and help defend Palaven with the Turian 43rd Marine Division. It was here that he was promoted to Commander by Primarch Adrien Victus and Transfered to Blackwatch and given control of a vessel very similar to the Normandy SR-2, along with a Heavy Attack Warship. Blackwatch was pulled from the homeworld by order of Primarch Adrien Victus, who wanted to mobilize this elite force in less hopeless situations across the galaxy. |
8,608 | 238 | 38 | 1,347 | 749 | As William and his team blindly ran outside, unknown to them the Reaper had closed in on their position and was directly over their heads. – A single beam fired in front of them, destroying the Cerberus dropship and cutting off any means of escape. Husks fell from the sky in uncountable number, chagrining at the mercenaries.
Suddenly an alarm at the entrance of the vault began to sound. After a moment, a great grinding sound emitted from the large doors as they slowly began to seal.
Meanwhile in the Greater Vault the other Keepers began to make their way to what appeared to be some form of service elevator, highlighted by green strobing lights. Turrets deployed from the ceiling and pointed towards the entrance of the vault, they too began to close.
“We must hurry; we have only but a few moments.” Sha’shi said. “Then we must board.”
Alex turned to Sha’shi, slightly confused.
“What do you mean ‘board’?” He asked.
“We must escape by the only means that will not result in permanent death.” Sha’shi replied as he typed at the console. “I shall begin the data stream to The Last Stand now.” | Name: Chimera
Race: Reaper
Age: 315 Cycles
Class: Sovereign
Appearance:
Military Rank: Vanguard
Personality: Chimera is a bit of an outlier when compared to other Reapers, he was jealous of Sovereign been chosen as the Vanguard of this cycle, believing that had ‘he’ been chosen, the Reapers would have already harvested the sentient races.
Background: Chimera was created 315-6 Cycles ago. Chimera was chosen to be the Vanguard of one hundred cycles throughout his ‘career’ as a Reaper, all which resulted in successful harvest without any abnormal levels of resistance.
Within his 30th Cycle, Chimera had decided it best to create a new ‘Staging Station’, the design was modified from the Citadel, focusing more on production and harvesting facilities where he would keep an army which he used when he was appointed as Vanguard. Each Cycle added more to the facility, making it more effective.
However, when Sovereign was chosen to be the Vanguard, Chimera grew jealous. He had been denied several Vanguard Cycles. Once word got out that Sovereign had been defeated. Chimera made it known that had he been picked, the failure would not have happened. |
8,609 | 238 | 39 | 407 | 586 | William was blown off his feet by the blast, along with most of his men. When he got back to his feet a husk jumped towards him, howling at the top of its lungs. He kicked it in the chest and as soon as it dropped to the ground, he stomped on its head, crushing it completely. He looked around and saw that his troops were getting overwhelmed by the husks. Another wave was coming towards them and he fired a concussive blast, taking out a chunk of them. "Pull back! Everyone get back to the barricades. Faltus, grab whatever you can in there, grab that keeper if possible. We are leaving now! You hear me! Lady Luck, send down some shuttles to evac us out of here." As soon as he and his men made it back to the barricade, he noticed that the doors were closing, he grabbed the nearest person next to him and got them to help him pile stuff in the gap of the door. "Faltus! The doors are closing fast! Get out of there!" | Name: William Jones
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 24
Class: Soldier
Appearance: Tall with short red hair and blue eyes. Wears a mixed assortment of armour pieces.
Military Rank: Mercenary Captain
Personality: Calm under fire, has a quick wit, polite and friendly in his free time, ruthless in a fight.
Background: Born on Omega, his mother died in child birth, and his father died when he was ten in a bar brawl. He learned the ins and outs of Omega society quickly, who to befriend, who to help, and who to kill. He made friends with other orphans, and when he was sixteen he and his friends started working for an old Krogan who worked on a salvage ship. When he was twenty, he and his friends started work as freelance mercenaries, with a few joining the Blue Suns or Eclipse. Eventually he got his hands on a warship, and started recruiting people to join his crew. By the time he had enough for a skeleton crew, Omega was attacked by Cerebrus. He and his friends managed to get out of the system, along with a few other mercs and people who they liked from Omega. Now, they're trying to find somewhere to hide, or to make a last stand.
Starting War Assets:
Advanced Warship-The Lady Luck is a large Frigate class warship with a crew of two hundred, he won it in a card game, crew consists of mercs and a few refugees from Omega.
Veterean Fireteam-Him and the Fireteam have known each other since they grew up on Omega. |
8,610 | 238 | 40 | 1,299 | 2,431 | Why did bad things always happen when things were going well. Faltus looked at the men around him. "Lets move ladies, double time it to the mercs position" there were not many things that would make a normal enemy flee the battle field (a severly pissed off krogan being top of that list) but seeing Faltus and the Blackwatch storming throught the vault door, everyone carrying what they could was a sight to behold. "Ghost of Vakarian, we need a hot extraction. send as many drop ships as you can." As more husks converged on the barricades it looked as though they were going to be overrun. That was until a certain stealth ship uncloaked close to them, close enough to fire its Thanix Cannons at the Onslaught of husks and cannibals attacking them and being able to pull up in time. "Ground team this is Black Thorn joining the party! dropships will be with you shortly. Lady Luck we'll cover your dropships. good hunting out there people" | Name: Martius Faltus
Race: Turian
Sex(If Applicable): Male
Age: 28
Class: Infiltrator
Military Rank: Commander
Personality: Very Calm, ruthless fighter
Background: Faltus fought, alongside the Turian 7th fleet during the Relay 314 incident, joining the ground forces assault on Shanxi. Following the ceasefire between Turian and Alliance forces, Faltus left the 7th fleet to join C-Sec and defend the Citadel, it was here he met with the council to discuss his fate on the Citadel. After heated discussions with the Turian council representative , he was finally convinced to rejoin the Turian military and help defend Palaven with the Turian 43rd Marine Division. It was here that he was promoted to Commander by Primarch Adrien Victus and Transfered to Blackwatch and given control of a vessel very similar to the Normandy SR-2, along with a Heavy Attack Warship. Blackwatch was pulled from the homeworld by order of Primarch Adrien Victus, who wanted to mobilize this elite force in less hopeless situations across the galaxy. |
8,611 | 238 | 41 | 1,347 | 749 | With a final shuttering the vault doors had been sealed. With a cool whipping sound, purple barriers sheltered them the add extra security, but they would not hold long against a full Reaper force. Alex and his team followed Sha’shi towards the service elevator where the other Keepers had already taken their positions. With a sudden jolt the elevator began to lower at rapid speed diagonally downwards.
“What about the others? While they’re mercs we can’t leave them out there to die.” Alex muttered to Sha’shi.
There was a brief conversation between Sha’shi and another Keeper in their own tongue which couldn’t be understood. After what looked like a slightly heated debate between the two, Sha’shi faced Alex.
“Should they survive another three minutes and twenty-one seconds; they will be safe.” Sha’shi remarked.
Suddenly as they got further down, the architecture of their surroundings changed. No longer were the walls bleak with grey stone, but royal blue and crimson metal, resembling a hive like structure. The elevator then passed a clearing. They we in a changer, filled with what looked like personnel transports. Beside them were hundreds of Keepers, all running pre-flight checks and other maintenance tasks.
“Welcome aboard the Blockade Destroyer Class Carrier, Last Stand, Human-Green.” Sha’shi announced. “We must hurry.”
Before the elevator came to a complete stop, the Keepers jumped off and moved as fast their legs allowed them. Sha’shi escorted Knight and his team through the various corridors and passageways until they arrived into the CIC.
The atmosphere was intense. Never before have so many Keepers been seen collaborating with each other in such an environment such as this. Orders in the Keeper language were barked out. That was until Sha’shi took his place in the centre control console. Then a dead silence fell.
He pressed a few keys in the console and the whirling began. Quiet at first, but soon the entire ship began to shake with an intense force.
Above ground the Reaper forces continued their assault. But Chimera had stopped firing his laser. He knew that something was amiss. He looked up to the sky and there they were. Seven flaming orbs, all screeching the undeniable scream of the Reapers. They have come to investigate why the other Reaper had been destroyed.
But before he had a chance to react the earth beneath him began to give way. The ground torn and the shuddering ripping sound was cast for miles. The husks fell into the chasm to be disintegrated by a biotic barrier that surrounded a large metal skeleton.
However, the allied forces who opened their eyes saw that they had not fallen into the crevices. In fact, they hadn’t even been tumbled. They were surrounded in a blue aura, floating above this metal frame that spanned for miles. And it began to rise from the ground. Chimera had been tipped into the chasm and had thousands of tonnes of earth and dirt fall onto it.
The allied forces felt their bodies move along with the ship and directed into openings within the structure and brought on-board.
A broadcast went out across all channels.
“Attention organics. This the KBD The Last Stand. All ships are to dock in the allocated docking stations. That also includes any vessel of Warship classification.”
As the ship continued to rise, the dropships from the hangers zoomed out, heading quickly towards the population centres picking up any and all organic lifeforms.
Once all the ships were docked, the Last Stand made its way into high-orbit.
However, as they made their way towards the relay, a Reaper jumped from it and made a beeline towards the last stand.
But Sha’shi remained calm.
A wooing sound singled the chagrining of something big...
As the Reaper’s fangs neared, a large rail shot was fired from the bow of the ship that penetrated straight through the Reaper chassis and into its E-0 core. It floated motionless a second before exploding in a spectacular array of blues and purples.
Once the ship was clear, it used the relay to exit the system, its destination unknown. | Name: Chimera
Race: Reaper
Age: 315 Cycles
Class: Sovereign
Appearance:
Military Rank: Vanguard
Personality: Chimera is a bit of an outlier when compared to other Reapers, he was jealous of Sovereign been chosen as the Vanguard of this cycle, believing that had ‘he’ been chosen, the Reapers would have already harvested the sentient races.
Background: Chimera was created 315-6 Cycles ago. Chimera was chosen to be the Vanguard of one hundred cycles throughout his ‘career’ as a Reaper, all which resulted in successful harvest without any abnormal levels of resistance.
Within his 30th Cycle, Chimera had decided it best to create a new ‘Staging Station’, the design was modified from the Citadel, focusing more on production and harvesting facilities where he would keep an army which he used when he was appointed as Vanguard. Each Cycle added more to the facility, making it more effective.
However, when Sovereign was chosen to be the Vanguard, Chimera grew jealous. He had been denied several Vanguard Cycles. Once word got out that Sovereign had been defeated. Chimera made it known that had he been picked, the failure would not have happened. |
8,612 | 238 | 42 | 1,299 | 2,431 | The dropships from both The Ghost of Vakarian and The Black Thorn arrived to evacuate Commander Faltus' troops. Among the squad of four which arrived with the dropships Sargent Amy-Lee Martins helped to fight off the husks until everyone was aboard. one that was done they returned to their respected ships which along with the Ad Victoriam boarded The Last Stand. The three leaders of the ships made their way to the lead keeper. "Commander Faltus, Turian Blackwatch"Faltus said saluting the small bug like alien. "Captain Vakarian, Turian 43rd Marines" the Captain said saluting. "Sargent Amy-Lee Martins, Alliance Navy."She said, but didnt salute. she didnt believe in saluting something unless she knew they were her superior. | Name: Martius Faltus
Race: Turian
Sex(If Applicable): Male
Age: 28
Class: Infiltrator
Military Rank: Commander
Personality: Very Calm, ruthless fighter
Background: Faltus fought, alongside the Turian 7th fleet during the Relay 314 incident, joining the ground forces assault on Shanxi. Following the ceasefire between Turian and Alliance forces, Faltus left the 7th fleet to join C-Sec and defend the Citadel, it was here he met with the council to discuss his fate on the Citadel. After heated discussions with the Turian council representative , he was finally convinced to rejoin the Turian military and help defend Palaven with the Turian 43rd Marine Division. It was here that he was promoted to Commander by Primarch Adrien Victus and Transfered to Blackwatch and given control of a vessel very similar to the Normandy SR-2, along with a Heavy Attack Warship. Blackwatch was pulled from the homeworld by order of Primarch Adrien Victus, who wanted to mobilize this elite force in less hopeless situations across the galaxy. |
8,613 | 238 | 43 | 407 | 586 | William looked around, confused. He had no idea what the hell was happening, but he was dam sure gonna find out. He helped up a few others to their feet, then noticed a few officers gathered around the Head Keeper. He motioned to a few of the other mercs to follow him, and headed in the direction of the Keeper. As he got there he heard the officers introducing themselves, and decided to do what he did best, be an asshole. "Don't even bother telling it your names, it doesn't give a shit who you are or how important you are, so long as you don't side with the Reapers. And since Faltus is the only one I know and remotely like, and who is actually paying us, I'm not gonna bother learning your names either. There is only one thing I wanna know." He turned to the Keeper and looked it straight in its weird eyes, "Do you have a bar on this thing? I promised to get my guys drunk, and I think nows as good as time as any." | Name: William Jones
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 24
Class: Soldier
Appearance: Tall with short red hair and blue eyes. Wears a mixed assortment of armour pieces.
Military Rank: Mercenary Captain
Personality: Calm under fire, has a quick wit, polite and friendly in his free time, ruthless in a fight.
Background: Born on Omega, his mother died in child birth, and his father died when he was ten in a bar brawl. He learned the ins and outs of Omega society quickly, who to befriend, who to help, and who to kill. He made friends with other orphans, and when he was sixteen he and his friends started working for an old Krogan who worked on a salvage ship. When he was twenty, he and his friends started work as freelance mercenaries, with a few joining the Blue Suns or Eclipse. Eventually he got his hands on a warship, and started recruiting people to join his crew. By the time he had enough for a skeleton crew, Omega was attacked by Cerebrus. He and his friends managed to get out of the system, along with a few other mercs and people who they liked from Omega. Now, they're trying to find somewhere to hide, or to make a last stand.
Starting War Assets:
Advanced Warship-The Lady Luck is a large Frigate class warship with a crew of two hundred, he won it in a card game, crew consists of mercs and a few refugees from Omega.
Veterean Fireteam-Him and the Fireteam have known each other since they grew up on Omega. |
8,614 | 238 | 44 | 1,347 | 749 | The CIC ran silent. None of the Keepers even acknowledged the Organic presence, almost as if they were ghosts. Tireless tapping and blinking of screens and monitors with the occasional notification sound playing in the distance were the only sounds the Keepers made.
Finally, Sha’shi turned to the rescued combatants with a solid stare. The black beady eyes face them as he spoke.
“Welcome aboard The Last Hope. We trust that your transfer was an easy one. He have never used the gravity lift in such spread scale before. However, it appears you are all live and well.” Sha’shi then turned to William. “We do indeed, you will find that the layout of this ship is very similar the Citadel that you are used to.” He Continued.
Alex just watched from this distance, unsure what to make of all this. The Keepers are the ones that designed the Reapers to be an undefeatable force, with them on their side, their chances of success have just tripled tenfold.
“Can you direct me to the Comms Room? I need to inform Admiral Hackett about our… situation.” Alex asked.
Sha’shi waved his upper right arm and all the Omni tools of those on-board glowed.
“I have updated your portable terminals with the layout of this ship. We are heading to a human controlled station known as Baumer. We shall be there within forty-eight hours.”
Meanwhile on Arcadia….
The earth continued to shift and crack. Glows of red emitted through the small crevices that outlined its body. Suddenly with a great roar the rocks and dirt were blown hundreds of feet in the air.
Slowly rising to his feet, Chimera, battle damaged looked as the other Reapers descended from the skies, mocking him.
“Look at the Great Vanguard… already in his grave.” One spoke, which did not matter.
Red sparks filtered around Chimera’s body. This wasn’t battle damage, it was rage. He had been upstaged by those who he had spared hundreds of cycles ago, and this is how they repaid him? They were to suffer, along with their new allies. | Name: Chimera
Race: Reaper
Age: 315 Cycles
Class: Sovereign
Appearance:
Military Rank: Vanguard
Personality: Chimera is a bit of an outlier when compared to other Reapers, he was jealous of Sovereign been chosen as the Vanguard of this cycle, believing that had ‘he’ been chosen, the Reapers would have already harvested the sentient races.
Background: Chimera was created 315-6 Cycles ago. Chimera was chosen to be the Vanguard of one hundred cycles throughout his ‘career’ as a Reaper, all which resulted in successful harvest without any abnormal levels of resistance.
Within his 30th Cycle, Chimera had decided it best to create a new ‘Staging Station’, the design was modified from the Citadel, focusing more on production and harvesting facilities where he would keep an army which he used when he was appointed as Vanguard. Each Cycle added more to the facility, making it more effective.
However, when Sovereign was chosen to be the Vanguard, Chimera grew jealous. He had been denied several Vanguard Cycles. Once word got out that Sovereign had been defeated. Chimera made it known that had he been picked, the failure would not have happened. |
8,615 | 238 | 45 | 1,299 | 2,431 | Amy looked at the N7 who had just asked to report to admiral hackett. "Alex? Dude is that you?"she looked at him a puzzled look on her face | Name: Martius Faltus
Race: Turian
Sex(If Applicable): Male
Age: 28
Class: Infiltrator
Military Rank: Commander
Personality: Very Calm, ruthless fighter
Background: Faltus fought, alongside the Turian 7th fleet during the Relay 314 incident, joining the ground forces assault on Shanxi. Following the ceasefire between Turian and Alliance forces, Faltus left the 7th fleet to join C-Sec and defend the Citadel, it was here he met with the council to discuss his fate on the Citadel. After heated discussions with the Turian council representative , he was finally convinced to rejoin the Turian military and help defend Palaven with the Turian 43rd Marine Division. It was here that he was promoted to Commander by Primarch Adrien Victus and Transfered to Blackwatch and given control of a vessel very similar to the Normandy SR-2, along with a Heavy Attack Warship. Blackwatch was pulled from the homeworld by order of Primarch Adrien Victus, who wanted to mobilize this elite force in less hopeless situations across the galaxy. |
8,616 | 238 | 46 | 1,347 | 749 | Alex removed his helmet with a brief sigh of relief, he had been wearing it for over twelve hours and they weren’t exactly designed for comfort of the operator.
“I’m sorry, you are?” He asked. | Name: Chimera
Race: Reaper
Age: 315 Cycles
Class: Sovereign
Appearance:
Military Rank: Vanguard
Personality: Chimera is a bit of an outlier when compared to other Reapers, he was jealous of Sovereign been chosen as the Vanguard of this cycle, believing that had ‘he’ been chosen, the Reapers would have already harvested the sentient races.
Background: Chimera was created 315-6 Cycles ago. Chimera was chosen to be the Vanguard of one hundred cycles throughout his ‘career’ as a Reaper, all which resulted in successful harvest without any abnormal levels of resistance.
Within his 30th Cycle, Chimera had decided it best to create a new ‘Staging Station’, the design was modified from the Citadel, focusing more on production and harvesting facilities where he would keep an army which he used when he was appointed as Vanguard. Each Cycle added more to the facility, making it more effective.
However, when Sovereign was chosen to be the Vanguard, Chimera grew jealous. He had been denied several Vanguard Cycles. Once word got out that Sovereign had been defeated. Chimera made it known that had he been picked, the failure would not have happened. |
8,617 | 238 | 47 | 407 | 586 | William walked up to Sha'shi, "Wait, there's an actual bar on this thing? Do you mind showing me where it is? Also we need to talk about one more thing. Where is everyone going to sleep? But that can wait, for now," he turned to the other mercs and with a big grin on his face, shouted, "LETS GO GET DRUNK!" There was a chorus of cheers from the mercs, and even a few from the soldiers. Everyone was tired, and getting drunk would help them cope with what was happening, in theory. | Name: William Jones
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 24
Class: Soldier
Appearance: Tall with short red hair and blue eyes. Wears a mixed assortment of armour pieces.
Military Rank: Mercenary Captain
Personality: Calm under fire, has a quick wit, polite and friendly in his free time, ruthless in a fight.
Background: Born on Omega, his mother died in child birth, and his father died when he was ten in a bar brawl. He learned the ins and outs of Omega society quickly, who to befriend, who to help, and who to kill. He made friends with other orphans, and when he was sixteen he and his friends started working for an old Krogan who worked on a salvage ship. When he was twenty, he and his friends started work as freelance mercenaries, with a few joining the Blue Suns or Eclipse. Eventually he got his hands on a warship, and started recruiting people to join his crew. By the time he had enough for a skeleton crew, Omega was attacked by Cerebrus. He and his friends managed to get out of the system, along with a few other mercs and people who they liked from Omega. Now, they're trying to find somewhere to hide, or to make a last stand.
Starting War Assets:
Advanced Warship-The Lady Luck is a large Frigate class warship with a crew of two hundred, he won it in a card game, crew consists of mercs and a few refugees from Omega.
Veterean Fireteam-Him and the Fireteam have known each other since they grew up on Omega. |
8,618 | 238 | 48 | 1,299 | 2,431 | "seriously? It's Amy. We went through the N7 training together except I got dropped after getting injured as an N6. Do you seriously not know who I am?" she signed and removed the breather helmet she had been wearing to let her red hair out | Name: Martius Faltus
Race: Turian
Sex(If Applicable): Male
Age: 28
Class: Infiltrator
Military Rank: Commander
Personality: Very Calm, ruthless fighter
Background: Faltus fought, alongside the Turian 7th fleet during the Relay 314 incident, joining the ground forces assault on Shanxi. Following the ceasefire between Turian and Alliance forces, Faltus left the 7th fleet to join C-Sec and defend the Citadel, it was here he met with the council to discuss his fate on the Citadel. After heated discussions with the Turian council representative , he was finally convinced to rejoin the Turian military and help defend Palaven with the Turian 43rd Marine Division. It was here that he was promoted to Commander by Primarch Adrien Victus and Transfered to Blackwatch and given control of a vessel very similar to the Normandy SR-2, along with a Heavy Attack Warship. Blackwatch was pulled from the homeworld by order of Primarch Adrien Victus, who wanted to mobilize this elite force in less hopeless situations across the galaxy. |
8,619 | 238 | 49 | 1,347 | 749 | "Sadly faces come and go for me. You a Biotic? I don't remember you in Rio." Alex explained. | Name: Chimera
Race: Reaper
Age: 315 Cycles
Class: Sovereign
Appearance:
Military Rank: Vanguard
Personality: Chimera is a bit of an outlier when compared to other Reapers, he was jealous of Sovereign been chosen as the Vanguard of this cycle, believing that had ‘he’ been chosen, the Reapers would have already harvested the sentient races.
Background: Chimera was created 315-6 Cycles ago. Chimera was chosen to be the Vanguard of one hundred cycles throughout his ‘career’ as a Reaper, all which resulted in successful harvest without any abnormal levels of resistance.
Within his 30th Cycle, Chimera had decided it best to create a new ‘Staging Station’, the design was modified from the Citadel, focusing more on production and harvesting facilities where he would keep an army which he used when he was appointed as Vanguard. Each Cycle added more to the facility, making it more effective.
However, when Sovereign was chosen to be the Vanguard, Chimera grew jealous. He had been denied several Vanguard Cycles. Once word got out that Sovereign had been defeated. Chimera made it known that had he been picked, the failure would not have happened. |
8,620 | 238 | 50 | 1,299 | 2,431 | "No. I'm just a regular soldier no special abilities except maybe exceptional accuracy" she joked | Name: Martius Faltus
Race: Turian
Sex(If Applicable): Male
Age: 28
Class: Infiltrator
Military Rank: Commander
Personality: Very Calm, ruthless fighter
Background: Faltus fought, alongside the Turian 7th fleet during the Relay 314 incident, joining the ground forces assault on Shanxi. Following the ceasefire between Turian and Alliance forces, Faltus left the 7th fleet to join C-Sec and defend the Citadel, it was here he met with the council to discuss his fate on the Citadel. After heated discussions with the Turian council representative , he was finally convinced to rejoin the Turian military and help defend Palaven with the Turian 43rd Marine Division. It was here that he was promoted to Commander by Primarch Adrien Victus and Transfered to Blackwatch and given control of a vessel very similar to the Normandy SR-2, along with a Heavy Attack Warship. Blackwatch was pulled from the homeworld by order of Primarch Adrien Victus, who wanted to mobilize this elite force in less hopeless situations across the galaxy. |
8,621 | 238 | 51 | 379 | 1,838 | Jackson! a voice yelled, snapping Paul out of his slumber. Opening his eye Paul looked around, he was asleep on your standard regulation bunk, to his right he saw the dulled partly rusting surface of the wall. A number of photos and letters were pinned to the wall, a photo of his family, a photo a girl the usual stuff. Paul looked down at himself, he was wearing his Combat armor, normally it would be near impossible to get any sort of sleep in full kit, but he was just so tired. next to his right leg sat his sealed helmet. Turing his head left he saw the interior of a make shift barracks, the walls were made of sheets of scrape metal built against the the side of the colony. As he looked around he saw a few others sleeping, one or two were looking at him. "Jackson?" the voice said sweetly. Paul tensed up as he looked "up" there stood a woman with blonde hair tied in a bun, blue eyes and tan white skin, dressed in combat armor, the bars on her neck were that of a major. Suddenly realizing Paul rushed out of his bunk and quickly stood at attention "Major Mahad! ma'am!" 'Now I'm gonna get it..." he thought as the major looked him over "walk with me Jackson..." she said annoyed as she left the barracks. Quickly Paul followed her out into cool air of the world, the colony had been built on a heavily forested world rich in ores with the crust of the world. The ores from here were vital for ship and weapons production. the world it's self was a pain, during the rainy season it would rain nearly every day and would be cold as hell, during the summer it was fine, were it not for the predators that roamed the forests. For most this would be a hell hole, the on redeeming quality would be the colony. built in the rocky plateau side of the mountain the colony wasn't stuck in the mud,along with being out of the mud the orbital defense cannons that had been built to protect the mines was perfectly function. All three stood along side the colony. since the plateau was huge the colony could expand, Considering the new influx of refugees the fact there was ample space was great for building a refugee camp.
As the two walked the major began to speak "Jackson I got an assignment for you..." the major said as they walked to the CIC. The room was alive with activity. patrols reporting requests for landings, requests by civilians flooded the room. "Jackson...We have contacted Admiral Hackett... Earth is under enemy occupation..." suddenly the room went quiet as every single person in the room stopped and stared at the woman. Paul felt a pit form in his stomach as the news sunk in. "Ma'am?" he said confused. "that being said...Earth isn't lost even now our forces are marshaling to take it back, our little slice of heaven is to be a stopping point for refugees and military ships passing to the front." she said as she turned to Paul "Jackson we have a number of volunteers, who want to help...I know we can't spare it but since being an N7 and all you would be the best to train them...I am not forcing you, I just figured it would give you something to do to break the boredom. Paul blinked once He had become an N7 really by chance because he had survived something others didn't. He had been accepted to villa, he really didn't expect to go anywhere. He thought that he would wash out after the first test, some how he had made it, with a combination of pure luck and to make his mother proud,the first time in in his memory that he took something seriously, his mother had been so proud. officially he had been an N7 for an 12 hours before he ended up in this hell hole, as he was given his certification as he boarded the ship.
Paul swallowed, he wanted to say no, and go back to just patrolling the colony and watching for signs of reapers. The major had been a friend of his mothers, they had gone to school together. When ever she was on earth and had leave she would always make sure to visit, to Paul she was like family. Paul also knew she was play favorites trying to give him something to occupy his time from something other then earth. a first since being assigned to her unit. At the start she had made it clear she was gonna treat him like any other marine. up to this point she had, often yelling at him for skipping on work or for not taking being a marine seriously. After a few seconds more of thinking Paul saluted and said "I would gladly accept the position." | Name: Paul Jackson
Race:Human
Sex(If Applicable):Male
Age:24
Class: Soldier
Appearance: 6'3 chose chopped black hair, green eyes light brown skin standard issue marine combat armor and kinetic shield
Military Rank: lieutenant
Personality: Paul is easy going person by nature. Had the reapers not invaded Paul would have been just another nameless Marine doing his job. Now he is doing his best to ensure that humanity doesn't go quietly
Background: Born on earth Paul was the son of a Alliance admiral. During his childhood he spent a lot time with his mother. She was a kind and loving mother, though she was often a tough mother. She expected her son to do everything to the best of his abilities and to be an honest, good boy. A former Alliance nurse, she met Paul's father during their younger years when His father was hurt on a training mission. As a child Paul's father expected expected him to enlist in the alliance. His mother, being the overprotective mother she is, demanded he go to college before he even thought about enlisting. During his high school and his two years of community college his father made him enroll in ROTC course of his school. After his two years in college Paul, who was bored of school finally enlisted with the alliance. After basic training he was stationed at small outpost off on the frontier of alliance space. For two years he stayed there. At the start of the Reaper invasion Paul had been re assigned to one of the ships assigned to protect earth. Fortunately while in transit his ship was attacked by reapers. while his ship was able to get away, it ended up crashing. While most of the crew survived the reapers and and escaped in the escape pods, the crew was counted as MIA and eventually KIA due to heavy reaper presence from their last check in. In reality the ship escaped and crash landed on the planet Baumer His parents were thankfully no on earth when it was hit. Paul's father has returned to active duty, and his mother his helping train people in medical treatment to help resistance fighters on occupied worlds. As of now He is working
Starting War Asset (Can Pick 2):
Fortress planet Baumer : This small moon provides a safe haven for civilian and military personnel unable to reach the citadel. formerly a colony this moon has been reinforced with military orbital weapons systems and an impressive defensive grid that would hold off all but massive invasions
Veteran Fireteam: Paul leads a group of elite seasoned N6 and a few N7 soldiers gathered from the remains of other units. |
8,622 | 238 | 52 | 1,347 | 749 | Alex simply nodded at Amy with a sense of indifference. If the two had met before he clearly didn’t remember.
“Well if you excuse me, I need to report in.” Alex said as he left the CIC along with his squad mates.
Alex, after constantly checking his Omni-Tool finally found a Comms Room. However, the operations of it were far more familiar than he had thought, the layout was almost identical to that of the Comms Rooms on the Citadel. There was no question that these Keepers were telling the truth about being the original architects of it.
After a lengthy discussion with Admiral Hackett, his new orders were finally revealed.
“I trust you can get the job done, Sergeant. Our new… allies may be a bit of a gamble.” Hackett questioned.
But Alex simply nodded.
“It shouldn’t be an issue.”
Meanwhile on the rest of The Last Stand, the number of Keepers seemed to keep growing, and yet there was no indication as to where they were coming from. They continued to constantly maintain various parts of the ship as well as attend to the refuges on-board.
Forty Eight hours passed rather quickly on the ship and was soon in system, heading for the small fortress moon. | Name: Chimera
Race: Reaper
Age: 315 Cycles
Class: Sovereign
Appearance:
Military Rank: Vanguard
Personality: Chimera is a bit of an outlier when compared to other Reapers, he was jealous of Sovereign been chosen as the Vanguard of this cycle, believing that had ‘he’ been chosen, the Reapers would have already harvested the sentient races.
Background: Chimera was created 315-6 Cycles ago. Chimera was chosen to be the Vanguard of one hundred cycles throughout his ‘career’ as a Reaper, all which resulted in successful harvest without any abnormal levels of resistance.
Within his 30th Cycle, Chimera had decided it best to create a new ‘Staging Station’, the design was modified from the Citadel, focusing more on production and harvesting facilities where he would keep an army which he used when he was appointed as Vanguard. Each Cycle added more to the facility, making it more effective.
However, when Sovereign was chosen to be the Vanguard, Chimera grew jealous. He had been denied several Vanguard Cycles. Once word got out that Sovereign had been defeated. Chimera made it known that had he been picked, the failure would not have happened. |
8,623 | 238 | 53 | 407 | 586 | William and the other mercs found the bar, and to them it was like finding the Holy Grail. They all rushed in, pushing past one another in order to be the first to get drunk as a skunk. William smiled and stood at the back, he only drank when he was sure he had time to deal with the hangover, and it didn't seem he did have the time. He motioned to one of his men to follow him, and made his to a discrete area, "Jeep an eye out for anyone passing by. Don't want them to hear what I have to say." The man nodded and stood guard, while William made a call.
"This is William, you hearing me? Good. We've left Arcadia and are heading for a place called Baumer, and will arrive in approximately 48 hours or so. I'll inform you of any updates, just make sure you have some backup on standby in case this goes tits up. Also, the risk has gone up, so has the price for the things I find. I'm sending you some data I collected, I trust that you'll reward me appropriately for it. William out." | Name: William Jones
Race: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 24
Class: Soldier
Appearance: Tall with short red hair and blue eyes. Wears a mixed assortment of armour pieces.
Military Rank: Mercenary Captain
Personality: Calm under fire, has a quick wit, polite and friendly in his free time, ruthless in a fight.
Background: Born on Omega, his mother died in child birth, and his father died when he was ten in a bar brawl. He learned the ins and outs of Omega society quickly, who to befriend, who to help, and who to kill. He made friends with other orphans, and when he was sixteen he and his friends started working for an old Krogan who worked on a salvage ship. When he was twenty, he and his friends started work as freelance mercenaries, with a few joining the Blue Suns or Eclipse. Eventually he got his hands on a warship, and started recruiting people to join his crew. By the time he had enough for a skeleton crew, Omega was attacked by Cerebrus. He and his friends managed to get out of the system, along with a few other mercs and people who they liked from Omega. Now, they're trying to find somewhere to hide, or to make a last stand.
Starting War Assets:
Advanced Warship-The Lady Luck is a large Frigate class warship with a crew of two hundred, he won it in a card game, crew consists of mercs and a few refugees from Omega.
Veterean Fireteam-Him and the Fireteam have known each other since they grew up on Omega. |
8,624 | 239 | 0 | 446 | 7,204 | Up in his tower, overlooking the land of Shae, Lawrence Caldwell placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, as one would put a hand on the shoulder of an old friend. "The time is coming," He said, and the runes on the stone sword glowed red as it replied.
"The storm is on it's way. Are you certain you should be here, instead of facing it as we once did?"
Lawrence shook his head sadly. "My time has come and gone. Now my purpose is to cultivate the next generation, so that they may stand against the darkness in my place." He turned from the window and sat at his desk, leaning the sword against it. "The students should be arriving soon. I must prepare for them."
------
Britnia landed at the entrance, looking up at the giant gates in awe. She psyched herself up and stepped over the threshold, almost taking flight again when the guard addressed her.
"Name miss?" He asked in a polite but somewhat bored voice. "Britnia," She answered, calming down, and the guard nodded, not checking any kind of list before waving her in. "You're expected this year. Head on in, the headmaster will be in shortly." A bit surprised at the ease of entry, she fingered the Wind charm on her bracelet. "Thank you mother," She whispered as she moved inside, winding up in a grand dining hall that already had people in it. | Name:Britnia Forest
Age: 16
Appearance:
Race: Feytouched Human
Bio/Personality:
Born human, Britnia became Feytouched when she rescued an injured fairy from a rampaging wolf, but became mortally injured herself in the process. To save her life, the fairy gave her a gift that very few people know about, much less of whom aquire. She became Feytouched, granted all the powers in a fairy's domain, and joined the fairies in their home for a while. Eventually though, she began to long for the human world once more, and left to find somewhere that she could interact on normal terms with them.
Inherit Magic:
Feycasting - The Fey are creatures of magic, and as such can learn to cast any spell that is not aligned (They can cast Light and Dark magic, but not Demonic and Heaven magic)
Shapeshifting - Fairies can change their shape to anything, living or not, of their own size. As a Feytouched, this extends to changing her size between her fairy and human forms.
Flight - Fairy flight is magical, as their wings are mostly vestigial. As such, Britnia can fly even in her wingless human form.
Earth Magic - As a creature of the forest, Britnia has a special connection with the earth. She can cast Natural earth magic, allowing her to command the earth without a spell.
Important Personal Belongings:
Fairy Charm Bracelet: Given to her by her adoptive mother, this charm bracelet has many special properties, each one contained in one of the charms.
Circle Charm - This charm allows the bracelet to change size with her.
Cage Charm - Once per day, this charm can summon a protective shield around Britnia and anybody within a certain range.
Wind Charm - This charm allows Britnia to send her voice on the wind, talking to people from afar.
There are a few other charms, but I will describe them as they come up. |
8,625 | 239 | 1 | 71 | 6,312 | Lady Rosewoode walked into the dining room to see if Lawrence had beaten her once again but she did not see him. Her owl Archimedes was perching on top of the staff. She looked around the room full of new students and old ones. She went to her usual corner to wait for Lawrence.
"I want you to behave yourself, Archimedes. So much going on and I am uneasy about many things. Some that I do not know or even why....."
Archimedes just ruffled up his feathers and began to preen his already clean feathers. | Name: Rosewoode Cara Caldwell
Age: unknown
Race: Human/Dark Elf/Grey Fairy
Appearance:
Important Personal Belongings:
1) A personally made staff with a perch on it.
2) Specially made wand.
3) Void Backpack
4) PLTs
5) Equipment Belt
6) Camouflage Cloak
Bio/Personality: Rosewoode is fair in her decisions but she does occasionally have a bit of temper. She loves the students and teaching them. She enjoys animals and loves to dabble in creating various things. The rest will be found out in the RP. |
8,626 | 239 | 2 | 1,484 | 1,595 | Arden walked up to the guard and smiled a big smile, "pretty sure I am expected...Arden Yalken..." The guard checked, nodded and waved him in, after that Arden walked into this dinig hall and pulled out his little pouch of mint leaves and put one in his mouth before starting to walk. He walked past an obvious teacher in a corner and smiled at her, "good morning mam..." then he kept going till he found a seat that looked comfortable enough and sat down. | Name: Jonas Eldrin
Age: 16
Appearance:
Race: High Elf
Inherent Magic: Illusory/Psyche Magic: Rather than alteration of the physical worlds, Jonas's magics alter the mental worlds. While not having many forms of direct attacks, he can create illusions and mess with the thoughts and knowledge of others, fooling those whom can be fooled.
Bio/Personality: Jonas mainly just keeps to his books. He is polite and mannered, but just don't interrupt him while he is studying. Do so, and he gets seriously irate. A bit of an aspiring erudite, wanting to know all there is to know. He studied with masters of the arcane from a very young age, and has recently gone his own path to learn more about magic, more than his masters could teach him so far. He was promised a permanent place amongst them if he returned with new knowledge.
Important Personal Belongings: A book that he's always seen with. No one else has read it other than Jonas, and he prefers to keep it that way. Speculated to be forbidden knowledge. |
8,627 | 239 | 3 | 446 | 7,204 | Jonas looked up at the large academy as he walked across the drawbridge that led to the institution. It was very different from the temple monastery he'd lived in for so many years. He wondered about the knowledge within the stone walls of this institute. Jonas could only guess at it. Soon, he would know it. Hopefully, rather than surely, but most likely nonetheless. Jonas walked forwards, cloak and robes fluttering in the wind that carried whispers of nature and promises of life. He would hold his book to his chest and approach the guard. When asked for his name, he replied with his name. "Jonas Eldrin." He would then be let in. A smile crossed his elven face.
Jonas arrived in a grand dining hall, already having people in it, both students and teachers alike. A generation of knowing, ready to give their knowledge to the new generation that climb under their wise wings. Jonas was teeming with eagerness, hardly able to wait until he could learn from the teachers here. Though, it did not appear that way on the outside. To another, Jonas would appear collected and focused, which he was. Jonas wasn't as expressive with his body as others were; he preferred communication with with words. Knowledge is gained that way much more efficiently. | Name:Britnia Forest
Age: 16
Appearance:
Race: Feytouched Human
Bio/Personality:
Born human, Britnia became Feytouched when she rescued an injured fairy from a rampaging wolf, but became mortally injured herself in the process. To save her life, the fairy gave her a gift that very few people know about, much less of whom aquire. She became Feytouched, granted all the powers in a fairy's domain, and joined the fairies in their home for a while. Eventually though, she began to long for the human world once more, and left to find somewhere that she could interact on normal terms with them.
Inherit Magic:
Feycasting - The Fey are creatures of magic, and as such can learn to cast any spell that is not aligned (They can cast Light and Dark magic, but not Demonic and Heaven magic)
Shapeshifting - Fairies can change their shape to anything, living or not, of their own size. As a Feytouched, this extends to changing her size between her fairy and human forms.
Flight - Fairy flight is magical, as their wings are mostly vestigial. As such, Britnia can fly even in her wingless human form.
Earth Magic - As a creature of the forest, Britnia has a special connection with the earth. She can cast Natural earth magic, allowing her to command the earth without a spell.
Important Personal Belongings:
Fairy Charm Bracelet: Given to her by her adoptive mother, this charm bracelet has many special properties, each one contained in one of the charms.
Circle Charm - This charm allows the bracelet to change size with her.
Cage Charm - Once per day, this charm can summon a protective shield around Britnia and anybody within a certain range.
Wind Charm - This charm allows Britnia to send her voice on the wind, talking to people from afar.
There are a few other charms, but I will describe them as they come up. |
8,628 | 239 | 4 | 71 | 6,312 | Lady Rosewoode glided over to where Lawrence was sitting. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder before speaking in a low voice.
"Salutations, my dearest. What think you of the new students? What you do you see in them?"
She sat down in a chair next to Lawrence to watch the students mingle. She rarely spoke to many of the students outside of class because of her own reasons. Reasons that she refuses to even think of let alone speak much of. | Name: Rosewoode Cara Caldwell
Age: unknown
Race: Human/Dark Elf/Grey Fairy
Appearance:
Important Personal Belongings:
1) A personally made staff with a perch on it.
2) Specially made wand.
3) Void Backpack
4) PLTs
5) Equipment Belt
6) Camouflage Cloak
Bio/Personality: Rosewoode is fair in her decisions but she does occasionally have a bit of temper. She loves the students and teaching them. She enjoys animals and loves to dabble in creating various things. The rest will be found out in the RP. |
8,629 | 239 | 5 | 446 | 7,204 | Jonas looked behind him as a small voice addressed herself as Britnia. Finding the source of the voice, Jonas was intrigued by the sight of a Feytouched. "Hello, Britnia. My name is Jonas Eldrin. It's a pleasure to meet you," he would say. He would then go on and continue speaking. "You're a Feytouched human, is that correct? Hmph. Fascinating. If my knowledge is correct, the Feytouched are humans or elves that are given traits of the Feyfolk after birth. It's in the Feyfolken's nature to be kind and generous, but there is two sides to every coin, is there not? Feyfolken are also known to be tricksters to the unwary. More times than not, though, Feyfolken are kind and generous. An interesting race of creatures."
Jonas would then smile and correct himself. "My apologies, I ramble a lot. One of my nagging tendencies, I guess. If I see something remotely interesting, I just have to comment on it and share knowledge. And the comments lead to more comments, and if I don't stop myself, it becomes something of a novel sight. Anyways, why did you come here, to Caldwell's Academy?," he said, and then asked. Jonas would sit in a seat and gesture for Britnia to recline as she spoke as well. | Name:Britnia Forest
Age: 16
Appearance:
Race: Feytouched Human
Bio/Personality:
Born human, Britnia became Feytouched when she rescued an injured fairy from a rampaging wolf, but became mortally injured herself in the process. To save her life, the fairy gave her a gift that very few people know about, much less of whom aquire. She became Feytouched, granted all the powers in a fairy's domain, and joined the fairies in their home for a while. Eventually though, she began to long for the human world once more, and left to find somewhere that she could interact on normal terms with them.
Inherit Magic:
Feycasting - The Fey are creatures of magic, and as such can learn to cast any spell that is not aligned (They can cast Light and Dark magic, but not Demonic and Heaven magic)
Shapeshifting - Fairies can change their shape to anything, living or not, of their own size. As a Feytouched, this extends to changing her size between her fairy and human forms.
Flight - Fairy flight is magical, as their wings are mostly vestigial. As such, Britnia can fly even in her wingless human form.
Earth Magic - As a creature of the forest, Britnia has a special connection with the earth. She can cast Natural earth magic, allowing her to command the earth without a spell.
Important Personal Belongings:
Fairy Charm Bracelet: Given to her by her adoptive mother, this charm bracelet has many special properties, each one contained in one of the charms.
Circle Charm - This charm allows the bracelet to change size with her.
Cage Charm - Once per day, this charm can summon a protective shield around Britnia and anybody within a certain range.
Wind Charm - This charm allows Britnia to send her voice on the wind, talking to people from afar.
There are a few other charms, but I will describe them as they come up. |
8,630 | 239 | 6 | 71 | 6,312 | Jonas nodded and sighed a little, saying, "Yes, that would be very good. Must get to know the people you will be sharing knowledge with." The elf boy would then turn his gaze away from the Feytouched Britnia, thinking to himself. In his cognition, he cursed himself over and over. Jonas had frightened the girl, and made her run off. It was different here than the temple monastery, where the members of the order would welcome such conversation with open embrace. Would he be forced to lessen the intelligent speech when he addressed the people here? Jonas just might have to.
Jonas set his head into his hand and would continue thinking to himself. And the more he thought, the more he spun himself into a spiral of melancholy. A trait of an erudite is to get so deep into thought that he becomes detached from the physical world, wandering inside of his own mind. Jonas was not an exception to this. The most difficult part is to judge the time while you're out. It could take a single second to process innumerable thoughts, or innumerable seconds to process a single thought. Jonas just sat there, resting his head on his arm in a thinking position, doing nothing else but thinking. He even forgot to blink or breathe a few times. | Name: Rosewoode Cara Caldwell
Age: unknown
Race: Human/Dark Elf/Grey Fairy
Appearance:
Important Personal Belongings:
1) A personally made staff with a perch on it.
2) Specially made wand.
3) Void Backpack
4) PLTs
5) Equipment Belt
6) Camouflage Cloak
Bio/Personality: Rosewoode is fair in her decisions but she does occasionally have a bit of temper. She loves the students and teaching them. She enjoys animals and loves to dabble in creating various things. The rest will be found out in the RP. |
8,631 | 240 | 0 | 1,399 | 8,773 | Sector: Alpha Centauri β
As one of the first space stations to have been constructed by the Earth Federation, Space Station Solus (Or "Triple S") is still an impressive space station to behold. It has a cool retro 2050s style, consisting of many sleek curvatures and elegant archways, with a romantic touch of fantasy added in. Already being active for a good 30 years or so, it's famously known as a major trading pub for the Earth Federation, as well as an entrance way into the vast networks of different solar systems in the Perseus and Orion-Cygnaus Arms. In return, it services as the last major stop until you hyperspace to the Federation's homeworld of Earth. This system is also known for the Ivirnius species, who have been the Federation's first and closest closest ally since their arrival.
Within Station Level 34b, just a little distance from Hangar K, lies the central Headquarters of the Galactic Adventure Hunting Lodge, also known as GAHL. Founded and directed by Richard M. Malkovich, the name basically speaks for itself. It's a legal hunting lodge that makes money off various deals, sunny or shady, by exploring new uncharted worlds and hunting for creatures desired by their clients. Of course, not many support their job hunting these creatures, but they're legal as long as they keep to several guidelines and restrictions. Regardless they aren't all about hunting as previously stated, it's just that its simply based around it.
Now having just hyperspaced on the west side of Solus, GAHL's personal transport ship, SC Sirius, has arrived right on schedule. It's coming back with a wide variety of hunter, both old and new, yet all unique in their own right. Onboard, is Commander Phoebe Quinn, a human female who is one of the older members of GAHL. She has been tasked in collecting these (mostly) new recruits and is finally returning back to home base to meet up with the CEO. Traveling to the cockpit of the ship, she presses a button that directly contacts Mr. Malkovich on the station.
"Malkovich, this is Quinn aboard the SC Sirius," she announces in a rough voice, "I've just returned with our new hunter recruits. Permission to land in Hangar K, over."
There was a short pause before their was a response.
"Roger, this is Malkovich. Permission granted to land in Hangar K. Welcome Back Commander Quinn." a friendly hipster-esque voice came on the speakers.
Slowly, the Sirius gets into position as it slowly lands in the Hangar Bay dedicated for them, with a low hum emitting throughout the ship as it lands softly in the hangar bay.
"I'm currently in the main office," Malkovich says on the speaker to Quinn, "So so just take them there. I'll give you all your assignment there."
"Roger." the Commander responds, "We will be there shortly, over."
With that, she stands back up and heads to the passenger room, where he can see all the faces of the new hunters, all looking ready for their first missions. Quinn simply smiles as he claps his hands, getting their attention.
"Alright everyone," she says, "Here we are. Triple S station. Gather your belongings and follow me to the Headquarters. You'll get a brief intro first, followed by your first assignment there. All of your questions will be answered there if you have any, so let's go, on the double!"
She turns and exits the ship, waiting for everyone to gather their stuff and to follow her. | Name:
Phoebe Jamison Quinn
Species:
Homo Sapien
Age:
28
Gender:
Female
Height:
6’1”
Weight:
69.8 Kg (154 Lbs)
Personality:
Phoebe is usually seen as a hardcore, no-nonsense kind of woman, expecting everyone in her team to be in tip-top shape. And while this is mostly true, in reality she’s much more friendlier and caring than you may imagine. Once you get to know her, Phoebe's much more friendly and open to conversations, but she always truly cares about her team, to the point where she will sacrifice herself to see them come through. She’s brave, tough, and extremely valiant, doing anything to get the mission done, even if she may get a little too dramatic.
History:
WIP
Weapons/Supplies:
Ralitar-Fabric Combat Suit: Her armor consists of a leather-like substance made from the armored hide of the carnivorous Ralitar, that just so happens to be mostly bullet/laser-proof. It provides almost complete flexibility and allows the user to shrug off a good few shots that happen to hit it. It’s also fireproof, keeping her clothes from getting burnt.
ET-Core Rifle Blade: The Rifle Blade is basically a rifle and a sword combined into one. It's a automatic firing blaster rifle that can extend its upper barrel into a sword. Even the handle has slots in which your fingers can grip onto. It's surprisingly light and very useful if you don't happen to have an extra melee weapon on you.
Twin F4-Maser Pistols: Quinn's F4-Maser Pistols are customized to fit in with her job as a hunter. They have three different modes, they being: Kill, Stun, and Override. She can kill her targets with several well-placed shots, she can stun them and put them out for a few minutes at most, or increase their firepower to its maximum setting, dealing twice the damage but only allowing 4 rapid shots before having a minute cool down.
Stun/Blast Grenades: Quinn also happens to bring along two types of grenades, one that stuns creatures with a low-frequency sound and regular grenades.
Medkit: Always onboard at all times, Quinn brings her trusty med-kit to either heal herself or any of her teammates. She has several painkiller pills, regenerative "bacta" fluid, needles, bandages, and anything else that's in a kit.
]Misc: |
8,632 | 240 | 1 | 673 | 764 | Arra had been kind of ignorant to how the land walking aliens had done hunting initially and as a result had initially gone out on her own to the closest planet to Aquaria that wasn’t populated and just started seeing if she could hunt things. It had turned out there was a very good reason as to why people did not live there and she had lost a hand to a horde of vengeful giant ant-like wildlife. It was the doctor who had replaced it that told her about the GAHL and, after getting her hands on some slightly more modern equipment, she had wasted no time in signing up. Looking back on it, it was lucky she was not in space jail for poaching or dead. She had done a lot of reading while she had been getting used to that new hand, and was confident she knew what she was doing now.
Now she was rather awkwardly laying across a couple of the seats in the passenger room like one of those french girls, as her body did not take well to biped designed chairs. They gave her cramp and she would sometimes fall out of them. Still, she was excited to be here and was looking forwards to working with this motley crew of landwalkers.
She activated her 4 waist mounted robotic tentacle limbs and sued them to stand, carrying her body in such a way that her tail was just above the ground. It wasn’t the fastest angle for getting around, but she found bipeds appreciated her being orientated the same was as they were. Looking like you were laying on your back or belly while talking to them seemed to come off as rude.
She had most of her possessions with her on the Fauld she wore around her waist, her supply kit was round the back and the harpoon and dart guns were on either side in holsters. Her only other possessions where the glaive she had strapped to her back (its blade carefully covered by a plastic sheath to avoid accidents) and a small suitcase containing all the things an Aquarian would need to make landlocked accommodation more comfortable. This primarily consisted of an inflatable swimming pool and a load of salt. She also had a couple of pills that would let her use a swimming pool without being poisoned by the chlorine and freshwater, if they had one that was. She hoped so, she relay didn't want to suffer from muscle atrophy in her tail as a result of lack of use.
With her things all gathered she made her way out of the craft after Quinn, the undulating stride of her mobility harness carrying her effortlessly along the corridors of the station. | Name: Arra
Species: Syreni Chondrichthyes (Aquarian)
Age: 21
Gender: F
Height: 1.8M
Weight: 56 KG
Personality:
She is inquisitive, eager to explore the many strange worlds most of her kind will never other to even read about. Probably gets a bit too excited when killing things. When not hunting she is rather laid back and will generally either go sight seeing, be reading about new places she could go or trying out new meats.
History:
One of the fairly rare members of her kind that take any interest in living above the waves she has taken up monster hunting as a profession primarily as an excuse to explore strange new worlds and get paid for it.
Originally one of the many hunters employed by her city to sustain it’s endless desire for meat she showed enough aptitude and saved enough money to take her profession to the stars. She is currently rather new to land based hunting, and thus lacks the firepower to take down anything particularly large or well armored. She learned this the hard way when a Rathanus Slicianus cut off one of her hands when her glaive got stuck in it’s cartilage. She managed to get away and then get mechanical replacement and was somewhat humbled by the experience, forcing her to come to terms with the fact that without a hunting shiver to back her up she would need to be more strategic with her approaches, which is when she bought the harpoon gun and dart launcher.
She is currently writing a cookbook of the various xenos meats from an Aquarian hunter’s perspective and is hoping to expand her repertoire of hunted beasts in order to expand it.
Weapons/Supplies:
Mobility belt: an array of 4 tentacle like limbs that are used for on land mobility, generally for 4 legged walking. The limbs feature optical sensors that help the user gauge how close they are to terrain. These are naturally linked to her, and so their movements are the same as using her own natural limbs.
Extra-aquatic survival helm: An extremely durable bullet proof glass dome and an accompanying life support system keep her from drowning on land. It also includes an inbuilt communication suite for getting sound in and out of her watery enclosure and for making long distance calls. Features an airlock system to get food in and out.
Glaive: A traditional hunting weapon, though this example’s blade is made of steel rather than the sharpened bone of yester-years.
Emergency survival kit: including flares, rations, glass repair patches, bottled seawater, a swiss army knife, emergency lift balloon and other small useful items.
A regular old harpoon launcher is useful for stopping pray from escaping. Featuring a strong cable trailing from the large metal bolt that stays fixed in its target, if the user manages to secure the launcher to a tree quick enough it can trap a quarry and leave them ripe for butchering.
While this pistol sized weapon features virtually zero penetration power, if it can deliver its payload of elephant tranquilizers to a weak spot of a target then it can knock small creatures out cold or make larger ones tired and sluggish.
Misc: |
8,633 | 240 | 2 | 2,044 | 422 | The Terror Bird swooped down like some sort of demon from hell itself. Pete could feel the wind on his face even though he knew that it was a dream. He could feel the sting of the cold air on his face as his tiny feet ran towards the caves. Pete could hear the screams of those that were grabbed as if he was six years old again. The Birds had attacked like they always did but this time had been different. It had been thought that the Birds were capable of making plots and now they had proof. The Hunters had been "drawn away" from the settlement using different tactics when the main group attacked. The Birds had started to pick off the lightly defended colonists as they ran towards the safety that the caves promised. The nightmare ended just like it always did, with an ear piercing scream and a shadow.
Pete woke up with a start not knowing where he was for a second. Everything appeared to be upside down and he wasn't able to move. It looked like he was inside the cargo hold of a ship. The nightmare always made him a little groggy. The panic subsided as a giant spider came ambling up towards him. Most people would start screaming if they woke up to see a gigantic spider looking down at him but this was normal for Pete. Charlotte would occasionally wrap Pete up and place him in the strangest places. One time, he had woken up staring down at a 1,000 foot chasm attached to a cliff wall. The biologists back home theorized that the Creepy Crawlies thought that the two legged spiders just needed some help with the whole web thing. Someone had to keep them safe from the ground. A gigantic spider staring down at him with the closest thing to worry that a giant arachnid could pull of.
"Good morning, Charlotte. How about you get me down? " Pete asked as his partner started to dance around him as she pulled off the web. The spider dances were complex movements that got different messages across. It was surreal to see the massive spider dancing around the still webbed human. This dance usually conveyed friendship and bonding. The biologists also theorized that the spider just could not contain themselves when they saw their partners. So they just started dancing to deal with the emotions. After ten minutes of the dance, Pete was finally free of the web. He fell to the floor with a thump as Charlotte landed next to him with odd grace for something so large. She released another string of webs which Pete spun around his fingers. It was a leash of sorts and it allowed Pete to have Charlotte move without him saying anything.
"Let's not do that again, missy." Pete said as he grabbed his rifle walking out the door with Charlotte at his feet. The spider seemed to be in a good mood as she followed after Pete towards the exit. Pete walked outside the ship and waited to go where he was told. He was not new at this whole thing but his eyes betrayed his attempt to be professional. It was clear that he was enchanted by the station around him. There was nothing like this back home. | Name: Zamuri
Species: Oni
Age: 38
Gender: Male
Height: 8'1"
Weight: 264lbs
Personality: Zamuri is a prime example of his species. Blunt, stupid and insane... sorry I meant honest, honourable, and courageous. He does everything to its extreme, be it hunting, drinking, or singing. Word to the wise, he's a terrible singer, great shouter though. Yeah, the term inside voice doesn't really mean much to him.
Despite walking around with his big stick out, he likes to get up close and personal, especially with monsters. He even once suplexed a Thunder Dragon while being electrocuted half to death. What? I was taking about fighting, get your mind out of the gutter. He is bad with technology, especially keypads as they are too small for his fingers.
History: Among his clan, Zamuri was the Dragonslayer, the one sent out to stop the giant lizards from destroying the village. For many years, he protected his village and was regaled as a hero, but when the Human-Oni alliance came to pass, he was no longer required as they could use technology to prevent the lizards attacking. So he decided to go on adventure to eat a delicacy from every planet in the galaxy. The really sad thing is, he started 5 years ago and hasn't even broken 1% yet. |
8,634 | 240 | 3 | 2,587 | 440 | Onyeka Guerrero
"Oh please," Onyeka said in response to some unheard voice, "You know how irritated Miranda gonna be when I get back?" During the entire flight to Triple S, Onyeka was deeply involved in a conversation with a contact back on Earth. See, the thing was, she could have muted her voice-- contained it within the opaque confines of her helmet-- but where was the fun in that? No... she spoke and laughed loudly during the entire length of the flight, all the while looking from one person to the next, checking for signs of annoyance or irritation. Upon catching the odd glance here or there, she cracked a self satisfied smile, obscured by the misty purple display on the outside of her helmet.
"Miranda is always irritated," responded the person on the other end of the line, their voice clear to Onyeka's ears only.
"Oh I know, but at least she has you to keep her company-- don't forget to cook her special meals."
Outraged, they responded, "Cook?!"
"Special treats for only the most special cat on all of Earth-- Duh, Rubio. I left you recipes and everything. Don't mess this up-- ah, hang on, the Viking is back. Oh wait, shit."
"What? And why you keep calling them a viking?"
"I ain't even feel us dock. Also? Holy shit I hope I get a team transfer or somethin', man--" Onyeka then imitated Pheobe's voice, "--Let's go on the double?"
Rubio's laughter filled Onyeka's ears.
"They make me feel like I'mma puke, man. Oh and by the way--" Onyeka stood up then interacted with her virtual interface. She sifted through a few files, one of a few pictures she silently snapped of everyone aboard the ship but, it was the picture of Pheobe she sent to Rubio. "Check this shit out," she laughed. "Ho-Ly Shit-- she really is a Viking," Rubio replied with a laugh. "Too bad she's like freakin'--" Onyeka sifted through her pictures again as she disembarked the ship, practically shoving past or around a few of the others "--one of four or five of us aboard the ship." Onyeka said this piece loudly, clearly wanting the others to hear it.
"You didn't expect that to happen?"
"I mean I did, but not in these numbers-- I'm with the freakin' monster crew. Gonna be hard to know who's the one gettin' hunted in this piece, I swear to God my guy," Onyeka replied, loudly once again.
"Yeah but nothin' catches you off guard like that," Rubio snickered, "You must be gettin' old."
"Says the man with gray hairs n'shit."
"Hey-- I was stressed out."
"She likes strawberries too, by the way," Onyeka replied.
"Who-- what, wait-- Miranda?"
"Yeah, give her strawberries when she been a good princess. End of month..." Onyeka continued her conversation as she followed the group, clearly with no intention to mute her voice input or interact with the rest of them, anytime soon. | Name:
Onyeka Guerrero
Species:
Homo sapiens
Age:
29
Gender:
Female
Height:
5ft 4in
Weight:
138lbs
Personality:
While she may be considered extroverted, humorous, and outgoing, Onyeka seems to specialize in testing the patience of others. Wholly on purpose and definitely for her own enjoyment, Onyeka spends most of her time pestering others after introducing herself, completely fascinated with the natures of other beings. There is a lot of meanness and pettiness in Onyeka's actions and she seems to operate on an "eye for an eye" type of moral code. That being said, her loyalty is quite quick to change, and she definitely puts herself first when it comes to dangerous situations. It seems that the top three things on Onyeka's priority list are herself, her job, and her armor. To call Onyeka egotistical would not be able to properly summarize the distance and depths of her narcissism. Despite her otherwise irksome qualities, none can doubt Onyeka's brilliance with technology-- particularly defensive shields, electromagnetic generators, and survey-scout equipment. Some have even called her a prodigy.
History:
The Trinal Concordant from Earth is known as something of an extremist group. Created hundreds of years ago after a rather brutal prisoner uprising on Earth, in what was known at the time as Detroit, Michigan, the group consisting of hundreds of prisoners essentially took over the bankrupt and mostly abandoned city, then rebuilt it from underground and up. Their success was largely due to several conflicts across the globe and world leader attention being elsewhere. By the time attention was turned back to them, their system of government was formed, and they gained a large population boost from sympathizers, organizers, homeless, and criminals alike. While a long legal and sometimes militaristic fight followed, eventually the Trinal Concordant was recognized as a legal party within the state and their hold upon the rebuilt and repopulated city of Detroit was no longer disputed.
Still... there are those that regard Greater Detroit as a city full of criminals and vagrants, often looking down on people from Greater Detroit as untrustworthy. G-troitians simply laugh at the rumors and do nothing to dispute them, even though they happen to have one of the most advanced defensive armor and weaponry programs in North America. The Citystate's main export to date are Electromagnetic Shielding Arrays for space faring vessels.
It was in the citystate of Earth's Greater Detroit that Onyeka was born. Raised by the city, trained by the city, and wholly supported by the city, Onyeka eventually became one of the more well known reconnaissance and recovery operators in the Greater Detroit militia. Her talents lay in her intellect. She was quickly able to master their home grown "R2Y Magnetic Barrier" system-- a personal defense shielding array. After developing new and greater defensive shields, Onyeka made a name for herself in the personal-defense technology field, often being spoken of as a prodigy. Still, there lurked the itch for more action in Onyeka and she regarded her recon and rec-ops jobs as the best time she'd ever had in her life. After the recruiting push for the GAHL went out, Onyeka figured she had found exactly the excitement she had been craving in her life, not to mention a better method to field-test new developments.
Weapons/Supplies:
DANCER -- Custom Built "D5L Legacy Armor" -- Pictured Above
Antiquated by newer generations of armor, due to it's limitations, Onyeka values this version for it's more "hearty" characteristics, rather than it's obvious shortcomings. Features an integrated propulsion systems capable of propelling the user high into the air and cushioning their descent. With modification, the boosters are capable of sustained flight but require a 1minute recharge after a maximum limit of 2minutes worth of flight, and the modifications take hours worth of time to complete. The suit also comes with a repelling system, with jet propulsion forced steel-cable 35ft long and semi-magnetic hooks that can be activated and deactivated with a switch. Active strength supplementary systems are weak compared to modern armors, only capable of lifting a max weight of 300lbs. Onyeka has made several cosmetic modifications to color and detail-- the soft lighting on the armor's exterior can be deactivated at will. D5L Armor's most prolific shortcoming was the ease with which it's back mounted power packs could be targeted and destroyed, often damaging the person within the armor in the process. Onyeka has armored them considerably and integrated a set of sound cannons into them but, they still present a rather appealing target. The second weakness is in the lack of armor around the midriff and legs-- clearly indicating the need for the user to not involve themselves in heavy confrontation. This armor is light, designed purely for scouting, and that much is glaringly obvious.
Scouting Array: A visual overlay and on board VR computer system with several overlays specifically designed for measuring, scouting, and analyzing independently of larger equipment. Overlays and systems include: Integrated SONAR, laser distance meter, microwave altimeter, thermometer, depth meter, heat-sensory index, wind meter, infra-red sight array, speedometer, metal detector, and the capability of housing up to 50TB's worth of additional programs. A camera array rests on the head, capable of linking with larger monitoring systems.
"Hummingbird" Optical Drones: Two remote control cameras the size of a hummingbird, with movement speeds exceeding 50MPH, capable of scouting at a range of 10miles away from the DANCER, and capable of silent movement. Both host live feed capabilities, high definition cameras, microphones, and laser measurement systems. Unfortunately their battery life lasts only 1hr without recharge when recording and 40minutes when life feeding.
BASS Barrier Personal Defense System: Close-Range sound cannons capable of stunning opponents with up to three bursts worth of charge. Useless against resilient opponents as it was designed to fend off Earth bears and humans.
Reflection Series MK3 Magnetic Barrier: Onyeka's pride and joy of a creation. A plasma field generator designed to mitigate shockwaves, repel radiation from UV to X-Ray, and halt movement of speeding objects with dynamic and moving application. The DANCER armor's plasma generators, housed in the shoulders and hands, are capable of spreading plasma charge with motion in order for the use to "paint" a field within which the shield deploys. It earned the name "Reflection" based upon it's oddly mirror-like qualities when properly deployed. The shield can be disrupted by intense heat, extreme cold, blows with the force of an anti-tank round, or poorly timed lightning. Generally it's maximum length of continuous activation is around 20minutes without stress and 5minutes under intense stress-- a capability that is continuously being worked on. The fact that the equipment is still experimental comes with the rather serious occurrence of it occasionally not working altogether-- rare but possible. There also stands the outlying possibility of it overloading DANCER's power houses when under stress.
"Pea Shooter" - Custom UZI Model YR448: A Submachine gun that fires off "nails" tipped with explosive heads. Generally the nails embed themselves into an opponent then explode, after three seconds, with the force of a firecracker-- sometimes they explode on impact-- it's still highly in development. Clip size is limited to 40 rounds and the weapon fires at 700RPM-- in other words it spits bullets faster than it can be reloaded and aiming is essentially pointless.
Dirk: A simple dirk made from steel. Well maintained. Nothing special about it.
Misc:
Onyeka is a jerk. No doubt about it.
And also very openly Xenophobic. |
8,635 | 240 | 4 | 904 | 2,988 | //:LOCATION - SC SIRIUS, SPACE STATION SOLUS AIRSPACE
//:OBJECTIVE - RECEIVE HUNTING CONTRACT
//:STATUS - NOMINAL, IDLE
Nova had stayed almost silent for the entire journey since being picked up on the SC Sirius. He operated on a "Don't talk unless spoken to" policy. Although, even then, Nova would sometimes reply with a short, curt nod. Sure, some would see it as rude, but a nod was way more efficient than using words sometimes and that's what Nova's about- efficiency. Everything had to be precise, even down to the timing. Fortunately, Nova was relieved at the fact they were right on schedule and he could proceed to the planning phase of the mission accordingly. Sometimes Nova would find the planning of a contract more fun the actual task itself, if it was particularly mundane. The next mission certainly wasn't going to be that if this crew was anything to go by. Commander Quinn really outdid herself on this one.
What a joke...
As the ship docked smoothly into the space station, Nova checked over his gear. Everything was in order and he probably wouldn't have to restock at the station. He wouldn't even have to lug much around. All his equipment had a place to be discreetly kept, even the SMG's fitted snugly into their holsters on his upper legs. The only thing he had to properly pack was his katana, which slid into it's metal scabbard, grinding against the inside. As Quinn gave her orders, Nova replied and spoke for the first time in at least an hour, his robotic voice modulator echoing in the transport hull.
"Affirmative, Commander. We should get en route promptly..."
With that, he stepped off of the ship and stepped onto the hangar bay of Space Station Solus. Promptly striding to the front of the group, Nova wasted little time loitering about and let the commander lead the way to the mission briefing, even if it meant leaving the hung over barbaric buffoon Oni warrior or the second rate hunter with a damn spider on a leash. As long as the freaks don't get in his way, Nova would complete the mission with them. However, if they became too much of a burden and caused more trouble than it was worth, then the logical decision would be to cut off the dead weight. Being logical should always prevail... | Name:
"Nova", real name unknown
Species:
Human?
Age:
Unknown
Gender:
Male
Height:
5' 8"
Weight:
185 lbs
Personality:
A mysterious lone wolf. Nova hunts with utter discretion, disliking the Rambo style some partake in. That's the quickest way to getting yourself killed. His pin-point planning must be executed to the letter before he can call a mission a success. However, when not, he's cool, calm and composed. Nova is meticulous, precise, and of little words. He's not up for much talking outside of planning for a job, and is almost dead silent on the job. However, when it comes to combat he's up close and personal, using his sword and collapsible SMG's do the talking as he twists through the air and use the environment to his advantage.
History:
Nova's incredibly quiet about his past. Any reports on him are covered in black ink. The only bit that he reveals is that he's ex-military. You'd be hard pressed to find out any more information. What's makes it even harder is that Nova is never seen without his suit and helmet on, and he even goes as far as to use a voice distorter to hide his identity. However, his combat style and incredible skills in stealth makes it very telling that he was some sort of assassin in his past, and the way he carries out his work now reflects this.
Weapons/Supplies:
The All-Purpose Katana, designed by military specialist company "UniTech", is a high frequency blade that is light, durable, and incredibly sharp. Not only that, it can vibrate at a frequency and intensity that it is able to cut through surfaces by breaking down it's molecular structure. In the hands of a skilled swordsman, it is the perfect weapon of infiltration and assassination. Flesh and steel is cut down easily, however it's not able to cut through everything. Incredibly thick amounts of muscle or metal-like armour won't be cleaved straight through cleanly.
Another UniTech creation, the Biters possess a high rate of fire with armour piercing bullets, each clip able to hold 60 rounds. Depending on how they're used, they can be used to sweep through a crowd of hostiles or pepper a specific point. Nova duel wields them, and collapses them when not in use or if he only wants to use one. However, if Nova's not careful then he'll run out of bullets very quickly due to how it eats bullets like a wood chipper mows down a 2x4. The Biters also come with flip-up transparent red dot sights, using a rimless plexi-glass like material to be as unobtrusive as possible.
A weapon similar to a throwing knife, the Jackpot Darts can be switched between different modes before being primed and thrown:
HE Dart- Heavy Explosion dart, same radius as a grenade
Sleep Dart- Usually fired into the ground, it emits a cloud of gas that causes all targets within the radius to become unconscious.
Particularly intelligent, focused or damn right big enough creatures can surpass this though.
Tracker Dart- Emits a frequency that can be picked up by Nova's HUD that tracks whatever creature it's been fired into unless removed or damaged.
Shock Dart- Releases a medium intensity wave of electricity, much used like a taser. Again, if a creature is dangerous or strong enough, they can surpass this.
Spreadshot Dart- Once thrown, it releases a spray of needles in a circular, fanning motion.
His harness allows him to hold ten.
Comes equipped with a HUD, adrenaline nano shots and retractable wire launchers on either side of his hip, Nova's suit is the top line in speed, agility and stealth. Equipped with noise compressors to mask his movements, he can sneak about without receiving much detection unless one is particularly perceptive. He also has grav-boots that allow him to run across any surface, and while he already receives a speed and agility boost, if need be the nano shot will increase the boost three times over for a limited time, as well as improve his reaction times too, making the assassin much more effective. However, he can overdose on these as it's a metric shit-ton of drugs being pumped directly into his veins when used. The wire launchers help him traverse great distances and swing around. Especially useful in jungle environments. However, his suit isn't designed for open environments such as plains or fields.
Theme Song: |
8,636 | 240 | 5 | 948 | 360 | Zavid
Zavid was quiet throughout the trip. He noted all of the others silently, using his implants on his suit and helmet to keep himself busy. His arms lay in hos lap, and he sat as still as a statue. Even when the ship jostled and shook during the flight, he seemed unaffected. In fact, most of the time, his eyes were closed as he started thinking about the place they were going to.
A soft ping, inaudible to the others alert him to a message from Brandt. Opening his eyes he reads it, letting out a sigh. Brandt was on assignment and would be off soon, but Zavid had this thing with the GAHL, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to see him anytime soon. Shame, since Brandt wanted to meet up again, since he's been out of contact for the past six months.
He keeps himself calm, for the rest of the trip. He notes that the Centepede wasn't meant for long trips. And that the suit needed to be able to retract better. For now, he's got it on since he doesn't feel like carrying fifty pounds of metal and hardlight tech. Sure, no one can even use it wothout the right implants, and it's keyed to his biometrics, but he's not risking anything. As they near the station, he moves silently as he grabs his gear, the suit is eerily silent, even his steps are silent. As if his boots never even touch the ground. He stands where he is told to, eyes scanning the space station. He was brought here, once, after he was discharged from the military. That was years ago, and it looks like things have changed. The place is bigger, busier and louder. He looks rather odd, being taller and bigger in build here than most of the humans. He can spot a few of the Giantis around, who stick out like a sore thumb with their immense builds. It reminds him of his own lover, and how much he misses him. | Name:
Zavid Nightblade
Species:
Primus Sapiens. Geneticaly Modified human
Age:
29
Gender:
Male
Height:
6'8
Weight:
135 kg
Personality:
Calculative~Bold~Honest~Stoic~Charismatic
Zavid is a calm tactician. He values honesty and loyalty, which is rare in his line of work. He aims to exceed expectations and to break down barriers he faces as he isn't a born human. Zavid is a smooth talker, knowing several languages and weilds a golden tongue. He may not be the frontline fighter, but none have his guts. He's a bounty hunter dating a high ranking officer of the very organization against them... He's got to have some crazy in him too, as most don't see the fun in chasing "monsters". Zavid is an active defender, seeking to help others and serve the good of the people any way he can. When stressed he's often found retreating into himself, as he didn't grow up in normal society, and doesn't exactly do well when angry, which leads to him drinking.
History:
Icarus Project:
Clearance Level 9, UNFC
Goal:
The Icarus Project was a trial to see whether or not one could create the Perfect human.
Result:
Mass failure. Primus Sapiens are relatively unstable, having chemical imbalance and psychological disorders.
Trial:
Conducted on Zecrux Prime, in the Milky Way Galaxy, Sector Omega. Total Number of Subjects equaled 3000 at start. All, gen-modded from conception.
Trial was 25 years long. 25 years of tests, of needle poking flesh, and of children who never knew what it was like to love. Unlike the Giantis Sapiens, this test was cruel, sadistic and inhumane. There were no names goven to the subjects. They weren't deemed as equal in the human subspecies. They were cattle. To be jsed for testing and creating a weapon capable of tearing down armies. There was no love given to them, so they grew up without it.
The first test group was a failure. Too violent for their own good and were put down. The second, well, the second went the same way, but took out some scientists with them. The Infamous Doctor Icarus refused to stop, creating a third group. To the ones doing well, he cherished, gave them treats. Let them outside the lab to see the sun. Unlike the other humans, Primus Sapiens could handle the intense gravity of Zencrux with ease. With it's double moons and blue star sun, the planet was lush with life... But the lab only knew death.
An accident saw Icarus killed. Some say it was sabotage, others say suicide, when he realized what he'd become. The project continued, only lead by an even more evil man... Doctor Eisenhower. He wanted weapons. So he turned these young teens into a fighting force. Primus are capable of many feats humans cannot do, being faster and stronger due to the environment they were created in, and the gene edits that were dome to them. Many had "damage" and were destroyed. They say that it was because some subjects developed mental illness and Eisenhower wouldn't tolerate it.
There were a few that stood out among the rest. Subject 233, 257, 859, 860, and 1000. These five formed a close bond. When put together, they excelled in everything. Eisenhower took them and did separate tests, to see if he could do his next step: Integrate them with technology.
But it wouldn't happen. The Federation had gotten word of the project and swarmed in force with their own gene-mods, the Giantis. These humans were titans of flesh and used powerful mechs. They took control of the base and started to looknthrough the files, only to find them wiped. Eisenhower was taken in along with the other scientists and the subjects were assimilated into the military for a while. Most stayed, sekingb the thrill, but one notably broke off and decided that he wanted none of it. He took on the name Zavid Nightblade, Subject 1000.
Zavid was part of a cancelled Icarus Project. He and his kin were genetically modified at birth to be stronger, faster and smarter. Which was the goal... What they got was warriors who lived off rage and fought so much that death was a large part of the program. Following a raid by the government the project was shit down. Only a few of the subjects remain, most having to be put down for how volatile they were. Zavid was noted as one of the few successes... out of nearly a thousand subjects.
The subjects who were deemed safe were assimilated into the military. They became known for their strengths... and feared for their fits of berserker rage. The hundred or so who were left have been slowly dwindling, until only a few remained. Zavid relates to these last ones as his family, a thought shared by them all.
After a year or so of wandering, Zavid met a man who called himself Shinzo Shida, who offered him a job as a tester for his inventions. It worked out so well the pair became friends and Shinzo would get him tech to do bounty hunting and escort jobs. Currently, Shida is looking for new materials for weapons and armor, as he is the name in all advanced tech.
After a few years of bounty hunting, Zavid met Brant Quentin a man who he met after... A long night of drinking. The two stayed in touch, went on a few dates and then decided to stick together... Despite Brant being an officer in the UNFC who is against bounty hunters.
Weapons/Supplies:
Zavid prefers to be as far from targets as possible, but is one of the best in close range. His weapons and armor are made by his closest friend, who's known for his top of the line gear under the pseudonym Shinzo.
Prototype HPGR: Custom made Sniper Rifle. High powered Laser weapon.
Centipede Exo Gear: Fits like a second skin, this further enhances his alread high strength and speed. Has a built in jetpack and active camouflage(works only when still).
Centepede WPT: A beta tech that enables a short FTL dash in almost any direction. Has a long power up time.
Centepede Visor: Detects all bands of the EM spectrum. Also has a active HUD for overall status, map and motion sensor.
High Frequency Communicator: Used to communicate with Shinzo and Brant. The former as it is the only direct line to him, no one besides Brant has this. For Brant, it's how they communicate, as they are often far apart.
Lux: A rechargeable energy broadsword Can be used even when powered off like a regular blade. Blade is a meter long and made of a special alloy.
Misc:
Zavid is from Zencrux, a planet with extreme gravity. He has denser bones and higher strength than normal humans. Zencrux' gravity is 26.48 m/s2. Brandt has a six year old son, Leon who lives with his parents on Earth. |
8,637 | 240 | 6 | 2,356 | 5,036 | Aboard a ship flying through space. It was a familiar environment for the woman. She'd made plenty of trips in the galaxy and this should be like home by now. But it wasn't and it didn't feel like it. This was the conflicting signals between her mind and body.
Mentally she knew that this was all normal and that they were headed to a station like it was any other day. Nothing odd was about this process. Her body on the other hand was taking issue with the artificial environment. It craved real ground beneath her feet, the gravitational pull of a planet, and the breathing of other vegetation. Being in a room with nothing but CO2 breathers was messing with her own respiration. Perhaps it was all in her head but she could swear that her body was working overtime to compensate for those around her. Which was odd because as far as she could understand planets usually produced less oxygen when in presence of CO2 was higher.
Confusing physiology aside the trip was not that eventful. It was still interesting though, there were many different species that she'd never seen before. Probably one of the more curious to her was the fish woman. Not that she was surprised that one existed, but more that one would be on a ship walking around with mechanical limbs.
There was also the annoyingly loud human woman that was leaving her comm open for all to hear. Though to be honest it didn't compare to the numbing conversations with the scientists that would talk to her about things that were way over her head. That and spending two years alone Harriet was almost glad to be hearing another human talk about something as normal as a pet, she presumed it was a pet. To be fair she hadn'd been paying 100% attention to the conversation.
Oh yeah and there was a giant spider on board that had someone wrapped up. No one else seemed to be worried about that and when they were told to get off the man was taken down and strode off like it was just another day so she figured it wasn't big deal. The universe was weird and she was a perfect example. Falling in line she proceeded with the others following Quinn. | Name: Pete McAllister
Species:
Homo Sapiens
Age:
19
Gender:
Male
Height:
6 foot five inches tall
Weight:
220 pounds
Personality:
Pete is oddly cheerful for having grown up in such an ugly place like Hephaestus. He always seems to be whistling a happy tune and does not seem to see the horror in walking around with a gigantic spider the size of a small pony. It is just a normal day for him to walk around with her. Pete always has a joke or a pun to use. Pete's cheerful attitude seems to fade away as soon as he is on the hunt. He becomes all business while he is after his prey. He kills without remorse or care. Pete learned the hard way that certain creatures need to die to protect others. He spent his life on a colony while everything wanted him dead and thus he knows how to kill should he need to. However, he has never truly left his home system. There is a whole galaxy out there and Pete wants to see it all. This is his first time away from home and it definitely shows.
History:
Peter McAllister came from an old Hephaestus' family. His grandparents were some of the fist colonists on world. The McAllister's were a family of leaders and they were mine administrators by trade. Thus they were rich and powerful. His father saw them as better than their neighbors and that they were above them all. Pete had never liked that and would do anything to get out. When he was five years old, Pete wandered away from the colony towards the nearby spider cave. A search party was sent out to make sure that the flying beasts had not killed him. When they found Pete four hours later, he was safely in the caves surrounded by spiderlings. In typical spider manner, they had taken another two legged hairless spider into the caves where he belonged. From that day onward, Pete had become obsessed with the spiders. His grandmother had been a Corp Hunter and Pete wanted to be one for years. His father disagreed and tried to keep his son on the path of becoming an administrator like him. In secret, Pete was getting lessons from an old retired Hunter on the ways of Spider Hunting. When he was ten, Pete bonded with a young female spider than he named Charlotte after an old Earth book he had read. The pair where always walking the streets and Pete would read to his spider. For years, Pete wanted to join the Corp of Hunters but his father refused. Pete finally got his wish at the age of fifteen when a Terror Bird (one of the largest and most dangerous predators on the planet) started snatching colonist children to eat. Pete didn't hesitate in grabbing Charlotte and his mentor's rifle to go after the beast.
For four days, Pete was just gone. His entire family mourned his death by burring his boots in the spider caves as custom stated. However on the seventh day, sentries on the wall noticed Pete and Charlotte dragging the corpse of the 550 pound flying lizard on a makeshift sled. Pete had taken the beast down with a shot between the two armored plates near its eyes. His father agreed on the spot to let Pete join the Corp of Hunters to defend the settlements. Now, Pete seeks adventure elsewhere. His skills are good enough to leave his homeworld but he knows he has to come back some day.
Weapons/Supplies:
H-34A Hunting Carbine - This is the weapon given to every Hunter on the Hephaestus Colony. Desgined by the corporation to defend the colonists since soldiers are expensive. It is extremely accurate since it was designed to deal with flying targets that plague the colony. There are bullets that can be switched in other than the standard rounds. The explosive bullet is designed to take out the brain of the target or to expose the fleshy bits on a armored target. The other type would be the shock ammo. Designed to knock the prey out, however it requires direct hit on the flesh of the target to work and most creatures can power through it.
324A Mountain Assist Tool- The colony was next to impossible to climb by yourself. The spiders were the only ones who could climb, so the Corp gave the Hunter Corp the 324A MAT to help them keep up with their long legged friends. The tool is designed to grapple onto the hard rock cliffs of the planet and hold up to 650 pounds. Should need be, it could carry a hunter and his or her partner up a 1,500 cliff to safety. Every duo keeps at least one of these gizmos. It can drill into hard rock and with the right changes it can be used on metal. Pete does not have the magnetic attachment.
Sitra Hunting Knife- A wicked piece of work that is designed to defend the hunter should one of the beasts gets it's claws on him or her. It is designed to fit through the armor plating of most of the creature. (The First one)
Standard Hunter Gear- As a former of the Hunter Corp, Pete was given a standard issued armor set. The suit is designed to be able to keep the hunter alive in the hostile environment of the colony. It is not power armor but it helps with dealing with the giant birds of the planet. It has a filtration system built in to help the hunter breath the cold air or filter out toxins. It's main feature is to cushion the fall from high heights. The planet has large falls and the suit can cushion falls up to 300 feet. it still hurts the hunter on the fall. The suit can also interface with the spider's electronic suite. Pete can see whatever Charlotte sees through a camera.
Charlotte's armor- Hunter partners are given armor to protect the fleshy parts of their abdomen. The main use of the armor to keep the two partners connected. A head mounted camera allows the hunter to be able to watch his partner from wherever she is. There is an attached microphone so Pete can give orders from a distance of about half a kilometer. However this all depends on the conditions on the planet. The armor is not impenetrable but it is designed to help keep the spider alive while the hunter goes in for the kill. The corporation learned the hard way to give the Hunters exactly what they wanted.
Misc:
Pete rarely sleeps in a bed like a normal person. His idea of a good sleep spot is lying on Charlotte or wrapped up in one of her webs. Most people would find this horrifying but Pete loves it. He has slept upside down and on the side of a cliff without fear. Pete can sleep anywhere. He also keeps a collection of books which he reads to Charlotte since that was how children learned to read on his homeworld. The Spiders never judged you if you said something wrong. It is also common to see him having one sided conversations with her. Pete seemingly can read his partners moods to guess what she is thinking.
Pete has a tattoo of a rifle crossed with a spider and a rifle with the Latin "Socios Belli" under it. Every hunter on his planet has the tattoo once they join the Corp.
Pete has a necklace of a 8 inch long tooth hanging from his neck. It is clearly a prized possession of his.
Scientific Name:
Venator Aranea
Threat Level:
6 (Not a threat to humans due to their personalities but they can be vicious when threaten by a predator.)
Height:
1.4 m (4.3 Feet)
Length:
3 meters (9.8 feet)
Weight:
250 pounds
Description:
The Hunter's Spiders or the Creepy Crawlies as they are colloquially called by the colonists of B5E-873 (aka Hephaestus ) are strange to say the least. Due to the nature of the surface of the B5E-873 being windy and cold, the spiders stick mostly towards the protected canyons or the cave systems that network the planet. They are very pack oriented living in large family groups of dozens of spiders with an alpha leading the group. It is believed that it is this pack mentality that made it possible for the symbiotic bond between the humans and the spiders. It is thought that the spiders think that the humans are just strange small spiders with some missing legs. They are extremely sensitive to sound and movement due to the fact that their only natural predators are all airborne. It is theorized that the spiders trust the humans due to the fact that they cannot fly. All of the true predators can fly and the biologists on the colony theorize that the spiders determine anything that can fly as an enemy. This was determined after the spiders tried to "capture" a supply ship while protecting the humans from the evil flying thing. The spiders mostly eat the flying monsters that try to hide in the canyons, capturing them by using their net like webs that can span entire canyons. The venom from their large fangs are used to paralyze their prey to drag it into the dens for consumption. The large spikes on the front on the forelegs are designed to help with climbing the cliffs and fighting off predators. Their most bizarre behavior is the dances they do. Similar to honey bees on Earth, the spiders will do complex dances which have as of yet been understood by man. They are believed to be how the spiders communicate with each other. |
8,638 | 240 | 7 | 1,761 | 2,977 | Dare
The young woman had spent the majority of the trip fiddling with her equipment-- examining a magazine, sharpening her knife on her armor, calibrating the sensitivity of the radiation detector in her helmet. Perhaps it would be worth the time to try and install an e-reader in the computer... Izumi mused quietly. It might not work, but at least trying to figure everything out would keep me occupied. She'd stayed in full armor for the trip, partly for convenience, and partly because the reflective, gold visor kept people guessing about who and what she was. The last thing she wanted right now was some hotshot young hunter trying to get into her pants before even arriving at their destination.
Once they arrived, she did as ordered, hefting the two large duffel bags she'd brought. One had her personal effects-- clothing and the like-- while the other had several cases containing her weapons and ammunition. She kept her pistol holstered at her waist, but all of her heavier weaponry were nice and snug in their custom cases. Looking around now she could see the variety of races represented in their small group. However she would keep to herself unless talked to... and only respectfully to anyone of, say, Quinn's standing. | Name: Izumi M. Dare ("It's pronounced 'Dah-RAY'!")
Species: Human
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Height: 5'10" (177.7 cm)
Weight: 114 lbs (51.7 kg) ("You NEVER ask a woman that! What are you, a moron!?")
Personality: Izumi is, for lack of a better term, a tsundere. She dislikes interacting with people, but this is because she feels awkward and uncomfortable around those she's not familiar with. She covers up this fact by acting cold, snarky, and aggressive towards others. Having been raised by a single mother for the majority of her life, Dare can take care of herself quite well. In an interesting quirk, she is quite fond of animals, particularly cute ones; in fact, she's been known to go out of her way on a hunt to get a cute/young creature out of harm's way (whatever you do, NEVER bring up the "Horned Lemur Incident" when she's around; she's still so embarrassed about the incident that she's been known to thrash those who even mention Horned Lemurs in everyday conversation). Izumi is more than a bit of a gun nut, and on her time off she can often be found in her workshop, repairing and modifying weapons and armor brought to her. She's so much of a gun nut that she's been known to ask if she could "tweak" a teammate's weapons or armor in the middle of a fight. If you want to see her excited about anything, just bring up guns when talking to her... assuming you have more than an hour to kill.
History: Twenty-six years ago the CEO and owner of DareTek-- one of the largest interstellar defense contractors this side of the Milky Way-- had an affair with his secretary. As with many tales like this, said secretary discovered she was pregnant, and was subsequently fired when she told her boss. In exchange for her silence, Mr. Dare agreed to financially support her until her daughter was an adult. While it was never an extravagant amount of money, it was enough to let Izumi live a somewhat normal life. Well, almost; while other little girls asked for dolls and birthday parties, Izumi asked for combat mecha and trips to firing ranges. Unfortunately, that changed when she turned sixteen, when her mother died during a pandemic on her home planet. Before she died, however, she revealed that Izumi was the illegitimate child of one William Dare... and, therefor, an heiress (technically speaking, anyway). Through a series of misadventures, she met her father. In an interesting twist, Dare confessed to his wife that he'd had an affair; what followed was nothing short of the most spectacularly messy divorce seen in the (very) long history of Dare family divorces. Afterwards, Dare even thanked Izumi ("She always was a drama queen," he told her), and said that if she ever needed anything to ask. Her favor? Pull a few strings with his connections at GAHL, and provide training and weaponry (however she still has to pay him back for the weapons and armor). Now, at twenty-five, she's finished training, and is ready for a real hunt.
Weapons/Supplies: A set of semi-powered armor (semi-powered in the sense that it uses just enough energy to move as if she isn't wearing armor); she has four guns, but only ever takes two at once on a mission at a time-- a custom assault rifle (5.45x39mm HEIAP rounds; 30-round box magazine; safe, semi-auto, & 3-round burst-fire; "In my defense, we go after some damn big critters. I'd rather blow money on overkill than wind up as a snack."); a custom-made shotgun (12-gauge; seven-round stacked-projectile tube magazine, with both lethal and LTL rounds; semi-automatic, and both barrels can be fired at once if needed; "I'm not saying this is for zombies, but this would be GREAT to have if we run into some."; a custom-made submachine gun (9mm subsonic ammunition; 30-round box magazine; equipped with integral suppressor; "Nothing makes me feel better than the sound of automatic gunfire, but sometimes you have to get shit done quietly. God, I hate jobs like that."); a directed energy pistol ("Don't ask whose body I got this off of. Seriously, don't."); and a combat knife, which she keeps on her person at all times.
Misc: - Despite her love of animals, Izumi HATES bugs. Really, anything that could be classified as a "Bug-type" in Pokemon, she hates, and tends to go overkill when dealing with extremely large ones (and, by "overkill," absolutely NO weapon is out of the question when killing large bugs, including high-explosives).
- Touching anything in her workshop without express permission is forbidden; the last person who touched a grav-wrench got whacked so hard with it he forgot his own name.
- With the computer built into her helmet, she can track a target that she's hit with her energy pistol ("The bolts give off a unique radiation signature. Want to see if I can track you with it? I'll give you a ten-minute head start.")
- Dare has a rather strange, dark sense of humor; for example, when screwed over by a partner/boyfriend she once had, she shaved him bald in his sleep, and super-glued a dead bird to his butt.
- Because of the above, Izumi may or may not have sworn off getting romantically involved with men. |
8,639 | 240 | 8 | 1,399 | 8,773 | Phoebe Quinn
As soon as everyone got out of the ship, they walked towards the southern entrance at the end of the hangar bay. A few rooms down the hallway and they turn to an elevator shaft. Quinn presses the call button from the holographic projector, and after a few minutes of waiting, the elevator finally shows up. As everyone piles into the elevator, the Commander presses button 33 as they fly up to level 33 from level 12. Within the large elevator, it became very clear to her how many hunters she had with her. And what an assortment of faces as well! While she had a few human faces, she also sees a few alien types around her as well. From a large red Ogaris yokai (Oni) who still seemed a little out of it, a Syreni chondrichthyes (Aquarian) who took up almost half of the entire elevator, and surprisingly a being that was made up of various little microscopic creatures. This new team is going to be pretty interesting, or at least she thinks.
It would be a rather longish elevator trip, but eventually they reach the designated floor after a minute or two waiting. Quinn would have the rest of the recruits follow her down the hall to his right, curving towards their left...
Room 661... Room 663... 665...
Finally they reached GAHL's Office Room. Room 671. Quinn then activates a holopad from the entrance and enters the passcode to open the door in an effortless manner. The pad blinks twice in a flash of green as the doors slide open automatically to reveal the entrance.
The waiting room of the office was relatively large compared to the room they were in, yet it was also rather cozy. Instead of the traditional white boring walls of the rest of the offices, it simulated dark glossy wooden walls of an mid-2010s Earthling Log-cabin, with the floors also covered in the same material. Of course, this wasn't actually wood, as it would cost too much money to replace the white floors, but the holopads made a very convincing image of actual wood, both in looks and even the design and feel. Even the counters and tables were mostly made of wood, but also had nice stone-carvings within them. The seats were mostly sitting and lounging sofas, with a rugs looking rather generic but still had its purpose. A stone fire place is even seen to the far right, with a Holo-TV above the warm fire, along with several trophy-skulls of some creatures. Dangling lights illuminated the room and bookcases flanked each other farther inwards.
The room did indeed stimulate the feeling of a modern hunting lodge, which seemed quite fitting. As they continued walking in however, the President of GAHL, Richard Malkovich, finally stepped forward from behind the front desk with a friendly smile.
"Ah! Welcome fellow hunters. I'm Richard Malkovich, president of the Galactic Adventure Hunting Lodge. I'll be ready to debrief you on your first mission in a bit... just setting things up in the Meeting Room. For the meantime, please, just relax and get comfy. I'll let one of my security droids let you in once I'm ready. Give me, eh... 3 minutes please."
With that, Malkovich quickly heads back to the meeting room to make the last preparations before everyone can enter. Quinn simply drops her bag on top of a hangar near the bar, filled with a whole collection of different alcohol and wines from various planets, as they wait for Malkovich to finally call them in. | Name:
Phoebe Jamison Quinn
Species:
Homo Sapien
Age:
28
Gender:
Female
Height:
6’1”
Weight:
69.8 Kg (154 Lbs)
Personality:
Phoebe is usually seen as a hardcore, no-nonsense kind of woman, expecting everyone in her team to be in tip-top shape. And while this is mostly true, in reality she’s much more friendlier and caring than you may imagine. Once you get to know her, Phoebe's much more friendly and open to conversations, but she always truly cares about her team, to the point where she will sacrifice herself to see them come through. She’s brave, tough, and extremely valiant, doing anything to get the mission done, even if she may get a little too dramatic.
History:
WIP
Weapons/Supplies:
Ralitar-Fabric Combat Suit: Her armor consists of a leather-like substance made from the armored hide of the carnivorous Ralitar, that just so happens to be mostly bullet/laser-proof. It provides almost complete flexibility and allows the user to shrug off a good few shots that happen to hit it. It’s also fireproof, keeping her clothes from getting burnt.
ET-Core Rifle Blade: The Rifle Blade is basically a rifle and a sword combined into one. It's a automatic firing blaster rifle that can extend its upper barrel into a sword. Even the handle has slots in which your fingers can grip onto. It's surprisingly light and very useful if you don't happen to have an extra melee weapon on you.
Twin F4-Maser Pistols: Quinn's F4-Maser Pistols are customized to fit in with her job as a hunter. They have three different modes, they being: Kill, Stun, and Override. She can kill her targets with several well-placed shots, she can stun them and put them out for a few minutes at most, or increase their firepower to its maximum setting, dealing twice the damage but only allowing 4 rapid shots before having a minute cool down.
Stun/Blast Grenades: Quinn also happens to bring along two types of grenades, one that stuns creatures with a low-frequency sound and regular grenades.
Medkit: Always onboard at all times, Quinn brings her trusty med-kit to either heal herself or any of her teammates. She has several painkiller pills, regenerative "bacta" fluid, needles, bandages, and anything else that's in a kit.
]Misc: |
8,640 | 240 | 9 | 2,488 | 9,302 | Bob of the Loqi -
The main hunter, the lead entity, Phoebe Quinn, lead the 'group' to where they would be 'debriefed'. It was a fascinating experience. So was this how other races formed 'groups'? It seemed that at this size they weren't capable of properly linking up, and instead moved around in these makeshift unions. A single lead entity who gave orders, which would then be processed on a more detailed level by each individual entity. He would call it sad, but perhaps there was some merit in this system. After all, they were capable of passing on these orders at a distance, and had even invented this technology to vastly increase that distance. For entities on different sides of the planet to form a single group, even if it was such a rudimentary group, was an astounding concept.
Despite all their disadvantages and inabilities these strange beings, who existed like small planets isolated from one another, had managed to test and understand the laws of the universe itself. Bending such great and powerful forces to their will and using their immense physical strength and communication abilities, it seemed they had managed to conquer even the stars, while the Loqi had remained on their own world. In that way it was the Loqi who formed an isolated entity, when all these other races had met up. And in their own strange way they had formed their own 'group', a group composed of billions of smaller groups interlocking with one another. A system that spanned the stars, far more complex than the individual entity and yet defined by the complexity of each individual entity. In his time here he had already managed to learn so much about these strange creatures, this strange way of living, that he could scarcely believe. But now he would learn another fascinating thing: how they treated those who were excluded from the group. Entities incapable of communication were not allowed to exist within the group, and instead were purged from the system using these 'hunters'. Elimination of competition on such a macro scale.... the colony known as Bob could not contain it's excitement.
Of course he was having some trouble keeping up with the situation. Movement through this macro space, the concept of an elevator... these things in and of itself were astounding new ideas. To propagate by manipulating the surface that supported you, that was the sort of thinking that only made sense at such a macro level. When you ignored the mundane and looked at the total, the big picture formed by hundreds of thousands of cells... and yet the others were also speaking. At the best of days it took Bob a little bit to keep up with the speech of these creatures, translating it to chemical signals he understood. And not just the medium but the execution also differed, the idea of communicating such complex ideas in such a manner.... it was all very hard to understand. But from what he could tell they were about to be given their orders from a unit higher in the hierarchy. Seemingly all of the various entities within this room were all variations on the same basic template, and yet many came from different 'species'. Altered versions of that template, designed with far different capabilities in mind. Adapted limbs for different situations. And yet it seemed as if these different 'species' also had their own hierarchy, which was somehow connected to the other hierarchies, and yet some were more important than others. And even two entities of the same 'species' are not the same, as they have attached different objects to themselves. Specialised 'technology' that allows them to act in different physics-defying ways, to bend the laws of nature to their will.
Waiting for the president to return to the room Bob vibrated lightly, making a sound slightly too high for human hearing. Waiting was more of a breather for him, as he did his best to process everything that had happened, the concepts he was being asked to swallow. Even in theory the Loqi had never considered such fascinating things! | Name: Bob
Species: Loqi Colony
Age: impossible to determine, but it has been 6 years since he separated from the main Loqi colony.
Gender: 31
Height: 2m
Weight: 120 kg
Personality:
Bob is fascinated by humans, and attempts to learn as much as he can about them. His alien mind often has trouble comprehending concepts that make complete sense for a human, although his extended exposure has made him far more human than the greater Loqi hive mind. He dreams of absorbing as much of human culture and the multi-cellular experience as possible before returning to the hive mind with this information, once more melting away into the larger Loqi awareness. He acts in a cheery and optimistic manner under all circumstances, which can be both charming and disconcerting. Due to his lack of individuality he feels no real sense of self-preservation, beyond his recognition of the importance of the information he carries. This also applies to others, as to Loqi the value of an individual's life is his value to society as a whole, or potentially whatever 'faction' they're a part of. Concepts such as selfishness are completely alien to him, and he simply cannot understand them.
History:
Created by the Loqi hive mind as an ambassador to the human species, Bob was named for the scientists who witnessed the event. He spent the first five years of his life interacting with scientists, who designed machines that transformed the chemical communication of the Loqi cells into vocal communication. As Bob is a smaller colony his intelligence is more similar to that of a human, which was necessary in order to even begin comprehending humans. While not the first 'ambassador' and certainly not the last Bob was the most successful, as the Loqi had managed to trade with the humans for a technologically advanced suit which would allow Bob to interact with other humans as if he himself were also a human. For the entirety of his existence as a separate colony Bob has been working on integrating himself into human society and understanding humans better. Now he functions as an alien hunter in an attempt to understand human individuality, self-preservation, and to expose themselves to a larger variety of alien species.
Weapons/Supplies:
Bob himself is nestled into a suit of 'power armour' which surrounds the colony itself. This power armour contains the necessary machinery to allow the Loqi colony to communicate vocally, and sends constant sensory data to the Loqi colony. This allows Bob to interact with the world in a fashion similar to how humans do it, which he finds profoundly strange. This suit is stronger than a human body, as well as being significantly more durable, although it is not faster. And Bob is far from agile, having trouble even conceptualising 3d movement on a macro scale. The suit is equipped with extendable blades on it's forearms and scanning equipment, granting it sensory abilities beyond those of a normal human. In the hands of a more capable 'pilot' it would be a far more dangerous weapon, but even as Bob's 'body' it is quite dangerous.
Misc: decided to make an astoundingly weird character. |
8,641 | 240 | 10 | 2,587 | 440 | Onyeka Guerrero
Onyeka made a disgusted noise, still connected with her call, "Rubio, I wish you coulda just heard what this guy said..."
"Huh?"
"Three minutes-- get comfy? Really? Why the hell would I get comfortable in three minutes?"
Rubio laughed loudly on the other end of the line, "I dunno, I know some guys who only need three seconds."
"What? A breeze?"
As Rubio started laughing again, Onyeka shook her head, then looked around the room. Immediately, she was unimpressed with her surroundings. "What a freakin' dump-- it ain't even real," Onyeka mumbled into her comm, "Wait. Gimmie a sec." As she walked toward the fireplace, Onyeka made a few hand gestures in the air, as she controlled her virtual interface. She muted her comms, finally satisfied with potentially annoying the others, then began taking a few pictures. "Rubio," she started, completely and eerily silent as far as the others could percieve, "This place is trash-- how's my next assignment going?"
Rubio made a noise conveying his surprise then replied, "How are you ready to leave that quick? What did they even do?"
"Ain't nothin' they did man," Onyeka replied as she walked over to the nearest bookcase, "It's more of the fact I'm with a bunch of aliens-- I thought I'd be mostly with humans but no-- and I ain't comfortable with these things man, you should see some of 'em-- freakin' hideous."
"Aw man-- you know how hard it is to find a replacement with your skillset--"
"--Joy, Ygrette, Arturo, Michael-- Flemmings not Charles-- uhhh..." Onyeka sucked her teeth.
"Okay, Okay, I get it, but ain't nobody willing to test that shield in the field like you."
Onyeka pulled a book off of the case with irritation, "Like I give a shit-- start workin' on it. Byeee. You have work to do. Byeee."
"C'mon, don't be that way-- just try to work with them?"
"Until you find me a replacement," Onyeka said tossing the book over her shoulder. It probably hit something or someone, she didn't care, "But not past that point-- ugh. They're going to try and talk to me. I feel it." She took another book out of the case, dropped it at her feet, did the same to a few more.
Rubio sighed in exasperation, "But bossssssss."
"Who's the best assistant on Earth?" Onyeka asked as if she were talking to a pet, "You are! You are."
Rubio chuckled, "I hate when you do that-- look, I'll keep you posted."
"And you keep Miranda happy."
Miserably, Rubio asked, "Why does she keep coming up?"
"You know why," Onyeka replied ominously, then immediately disconnected the call.
Turning to the room, a pile of books scattered about around her, it seemed Onyeka was looking for the next thing to toss around and certainly hadn't heard anyone if thy had protested her book tossing-- now, however, it seemed she would be more receptive to... interaction. Possibly. | Name:
Onyeka Guerrero
Species:
Homo sapiens
Age:
29
Gender:
Female
Height:
5ft 4in
Weight:
138lbs
Personality:
While she may be considered extroverted, humorous, and outgoing, Onyeka seems to specialize in testing the patience of others. Wholly on purpose and definitely for her own enjoyment, Onyeka spends most of her time pestering others after introducing herself, completely fascinated with the natures of other beings. There is a lot of meanness and pettiness in Onyeka's actions and she seems to operate on an "eye for an eye" type of moral code. That being said, her loyalty is quite quick to change, and she definitely puts herself first when it comes to dangerous situations. It seems that the top three things on Onyeka's priority list are herself, her job, and her armor. To call Onyeka egotistical would not be able to properly summarize the distance and depths of her narcissism. Despite her otherwise irksome qualities, none can doubt Onyeka's brilliance with technology-- particularly defensive shields, electromagnetic generators, and survey-scout equipment. Some have even called her a prodigy.
History:
The Trinal Concordant from Earth is known as something of an extremist group. Created hundreds of years ago after a rather brutal prisoner uprising on Earth, in what was known at the time as Detroit, Michigan, the group consisting of hundreds of prisoners essentially took over the bankrupt and mostly abandoned city, then rebuilt it from underground and up. Their success was largely due to several conflicts across the globe and world leader attention being elsewhere. By the time attention was turned back to them, their system of government was formed, and they gained a large population boost from sympathizers, organizers, homeless, and criminals alike. While a long legal and sometimes militaristic fight followed, eventually the Trinal Concordant was recognized as a legal party within the state and their hold upon the rebuilt and repopulated city of Detroit was no longer disputed.
Still... there are those that regard Greater Detroit as a city full of criminals and vagrants, often looking down on people from Greater Detroit as untrustworthy. G-troitians simply laugh at the rumors and do nothing to dispute them, even though they happen to have one of the most advanced defensive armor and weaponry programs in North America. The Citystate's main export to date are Electromagnetic Shielding Arrays for space faring vessels.
It was in the citystate of Earth's Greater Detroit that Onyeka was born. Raised by the city, trained by the city, and wholly supported by the city, Onyeka eventually became one of the more well known reconnaissance and recovery operators in the Greater Detroit militia. Her talents lay in her intellect. She was quickly able to master their home grown "R2Y Magnetic Barrier" system-- a personal defense shielding array. After developing new and greater defensive shields, Onyeka made a name for herself in the personal-defense technology field, often being spoken of as a prodigy. Still, there lurked the itch for more action in Onyeka and she regarded her recon and rec-ops jobs as the best time she'd ever had in her life. After the recruiting push for the GAHL went out, Onyeka figured she had found exactly the excitement she had been craving in her life, not to mention a better method to field-test new developments.
Weapons/Supplies:
DANCER -- Custom Built "D5L Legacy Armor" -- Pictured Above
Antiquated by newer generations of armor, due to it's limitations, Onyeka values this version for it's more "hearty" characteristics, rather than it's obvious shortcomings. Features an integrated propulsion systems capable of propelling the user high into the air and cushioning their descent. With modification, the boosters are capable of sustained flight but require a 1minute recharge after a maximum limit of 2minutes worth of flight, and the modifications take hours worth of time to complete. The suit also comes with a repelling system, with jet propulsion forced steel-cable 35ft long and semi-magnetic hooks that can be activated and deactivated with a switch. Active strength supplementary systems are weak compared to modern armors, only capable of lifting a max weight of 300lbs. Onyeka has made several cosmetic modifications to color and detail-- the soft lighting on the armor's exterior can be deactivated at will. D5L Armor's most prolific shortcoming was the ease with which it's back mounted power packs could be targeted and destroyed, often damaging the person within the armor in the process. Onyeka has armored them considerably and integrated a set of sound cannons into them but, they still present a rather appealing target. The second weakness is in the lack of armor around the midriff and legs-- clearly indicating the need for the user to not involve themselves in heavy confrontation. This armor is light, designed purely for scouting, and that much is glaringly obvious.
Scouting Array: A visual overlay and on board VR computer system with several overlays specifically designed for measuring, scouting, and analyzing independently of larger equipment. Overlays and systems include: Integrated SONAR, laser distance meter, microwave altimeter, thermometer, depth meter, heat-sensory index, wind meter, infra-red sight array, speedometer, metal detector, and the capability of housing up to 50TB's worth of additional programs. A camera array rests on the head, capable of linking with larger monitoring systems.
"Hummingbird" Optical Drones: Two remote control cameras the size of a hummingbird, with movement speeds exceeding 50MPH, capable of scouting at a range of 10miles away from the DANCER, and capable of silent movement. Both host live feed capabilities, high definition cameras, microphones, and laser measurement systems. Unfortunately their battery life lasts only 1hr without recharge when recording and 40minutes when life feeding.
BASS Barrier Personal Defense System: Close-Range sound cannons capable of stunning opponents with up to three bursts worth of charge. Useless against resilient opponents as it was designed to fend off Earth bears and humans.
Reflection Series MK3 Magnetic Barrier: Onyeka's pride and joy of a creation. A plasma field generator designed to mitigate shockwaves, repel radiation from UV to X-Ray, and halt movement of speeding objects with dynamic and moving application. The DANCER armor's plasma generators, housed in the shoulders and hands, are capable of spreading plasma charge with motion in order for the use to "paint" a field within which the shield deploys. It earned the name "Reflection" based upon it's oddly mirror-like qualities when properly deployed. The shield can be disrupted by intense heat, extreme cold, blows with the force of an anti-tank round, or poorly timed lightning. Generally it's maximum length of continuous activation is around 20minutes without stress and 5minutes under intense stress-- a capability that is continuously being worked on. The fact that the equipment is still experimental comes with the rather serious occurrence of it occasionally not working altogether-- rare but possible. There also stands the outlying possibility of it overloading DANCER's power houses when under stress.
"Pea Shooter" - Custom UZI Model YR448: A Submachine gun that fires off "nails" tipped with explosive heads. Generally the nails embed themselves into an opponent then explode, after three seconds, with the force of a firecracker-- sometimes they explode on impact-- it's still highly in development. Clip size is limited to 40 rounds and the weapon fires at 700RPM-- in other words it spits bullets faster than it can be reloaded and aiming is essentially pointless.
Dirk: A simple dirk made from steel. Well maintained. Nothing special about it.
Misc:
Onyeka is a jerk. No doubt about it.
And also very openly Xenophobic. |
8,642 | 240 | 11 | 673 | 764 | They weren't the most talkative bunch it seemed, well, apart from the one human who seemed to be rather fond of pink and talking loudly to someone on the phone. Arra was glad when they finally quit their yapping but after (presumably) being called a monster she wanted little to do with the woman. What she did have interest in was the bar, Arra was going to take any opportunity to sample alien cuisine and now seemed as good a time as any to have a wee sample.
Resting against the bar on her elbows she began to use the two front mecha tendrils to examine the various bottles and wines on display, looking for any that sounded good and wouldn’t leave her as drunk as the big guy during the meeting.
While doing this she turned to Quinn, and in an attempt to initiate conversation now that the noisy phone lady hat shut up, asked
”Don’t suppose you know what's good among all these?”
She brought up two of the tendrils bearing random bottles to show in-order to punctuate her question. Her voice itself came from two speakers mounted on her helm rather than directly from her mouth and had a quite literal bubbly tone to it, filled with genuine curiosity, a little excitement with all the new things she was experiencing and literal bubbles.
She smiled at the woman with a friendly grin made slightly disconcerting by the multiple rows of shark teeth it contained. | Name: Arra
Species: Syreni Chondrichthyes (Aquarian)
Age: 21
Gender: F
Height: 1.8M
Weight: 56 KG
Personality:
She is inquisitive, eager to explore the many strange worlds most of her kind will never other to even read about. Probably gets a bit too excited when killing things. When not hunting she is rather laid back and will generally either go sight seeing, be reading about new places she could go or trying out new meats.
History:
One of the fairly rare members of her kind that take any interest in living above the waves she has taken up monster hunting as a profession primarily as an excuse to explore strange new worlds and get paid for it.
Originally one of the many hunters employed by her city to sustain it’s endless desire for meat she showed enough aptitude and saved enough money to take her profession to the stars. She is currently rather new to land based hunting, and thus lacks the firepower to take down anything particularly large or well armored. She learned this the hard way when a Rathanus Slicianus cut off one of her hands when her glaive got stuck in it’s cartilage. She managed to get away and then get mechanical replacement and was somewhat humbled by the experience, forcing her to come to terms with the fact that without a hunting shiver to back her up she would need to be more strategic with her approaches, which is when she bought the harpoon gun and dart launcher.
She is currently writing a cookbook of the various xenos meats from an Aquarian hunter’s perspective and is hoping to expand her repertoire of hunted beasts in order to expand it.
Weapons/Supplies:
Mobility belt: an array of 4 tentacle like limbs that are used for on land mobility, generally for 4 legged walking. The limbs feature optical sensors that help the user gauge how close they are to terrain. These are naturally linked to her, and so their movements are the same as using her own natural limbs.
Extra-aquatic survival helm: An extremely durable bullet proof glass dome and an accompanying life support system keep her from drowning on land. It also includes an inbuilt communication suite for getting sound in and out of her watery enclosure and for making long distance calls. Features an airlock system to get food in and out.
Glaive: A traditional hunting weapon, though this example’s blade is made of steel rather than the sharpened bone of yester-years.
Emergency survival kit: including flares, rations, glass repair patches, bottled seawater, a swiss army knife, emergency lift balloon and other small useful items.
A regular old harpoon launcher is useful for stopping pray from escaping. Featuring a strong cable trailing from the large metal bolt that stays fixed in its target, if the user manages to secure the launcher to a tree quick enough it can trap a quarry and leave them ripe for butchering.
While this pistol sized weapon features virtually zero penetration power, if it can deliver its payload of elephant tranquilizers to a weak spot of a target then it can knock small creatures out cold or make larger ones tired and sluggish.
Misc: |
8,643 | 240 | 12 | 2,356 | 5,036 | So they had a little time to mingle. Three minutes didn't sound like a lot of time but it was something she supposed. There was such an assortment of people to interact with she really wasn't sure where to start. Speaking of the number of people coming in was rather large. Surely they would be split up into smaller squads, which would make getting to know one another easier in a group.
The loud and obnoxious one made a jab at all the non-humans in the room. Harriet was pretty sure she fell into that category now despite still being mentally human. So she didn't seem to be someone she wanted to talk to to start. Moving away toward the bar she glanced over the various options. Since her transformation things she used to enjoy her body cleaned up a lot. Things like liquor didn't have the same punch it once did because her body filtered a ton of it out before the buzz even had the chance to impact her. She'd probably throw up before she ever got drunk again. Still it was a good conversation piece and it seemed the fish woman took interest in what was there.
The question posed was rather open ended about which was better. Glancing over the labels none of them seemed to jump out at her. Though that was likely because of the above mentioned making them not enticing. The woman knew that she would have loved some of these. Either way she tried to remember what was good to her. "Good? Hm, the Talorian Rum is good. They use a sort of cane equivalent that's local to that planet. Gives it a unique flavor from your typical human rum." She reached out and grabbed the bottle in question and poured a couple glasses. Though it wouldn't have the same effect anymore at least it was a way to break the ice. | Name: Pete McAllister
Species:
Homo Sapiens
Age:
19
Gender:
Male
Height:
6 foot five inches tall
Weight:
220 pounds
Personality:
Pete is oddly cheerful for having grown up in such an ugly place like Hephaestus. He always seems to be whistling a happy tune and does not seem to see the horror in walking around with a gigantic spider the size of a small pony. It is just a normal day for him to walk around with her. Pete always has a joke or a pun to use. Pete's cheerful attitude seems to fade away as soon as he is on the hunt. He becomes all business while he is after his prey. He kills without remorse or care. Pete learned the hard way that certain creatures need to die to protect others. He spent his life on a colony while everything wanted him dead and thus he knows how to kill should he need to. However, he has never truly left his home system. There is a whole galaxy out there and Pete wants to see it all. This is his first time away from home and it definitely shows.
History:
Peter McAllister came from an old Hephaestus' family. His grandparents were some of the fist colonists on world. The McAllister's were a family of leaders and they were mine administrators by trade. Thus they were rich and powerful. His father saw them as better than their neighbors and that they were above them all. Pete had never liked that and would do anything to get out. When he was five years old, Pete wandered away from the colony towards the nearby spider cave. A search party was sent out to make sure that the flying beasts had not killed him. When they found Pete four hours later, he was safely in the caves surrounded by spiderlings. In typical spider manner, they had taken another two legged hairless spider into the caves where he belonged. From that day onward, Pete had become obsessed with the spiders. His grandmother had been a Corp Hunter and Pete wanted to be one for years. His father disagreed and tried to keep his son on the path of becoming an administrator like him. In secret, Pete was getting lessons from an old retired Hunter on the ways of Spider Hunting. When he was ten, Pete bonded with a young female spider than he named Charlotte after an old Earth book he had read. The pair where always walking the streets and Pete would read to his spider. For years, Pete wanted to join the Corp of Hunters but his father refused. Pete finally got his wish at the age of fifteen when a Terror Bird (one of the largest and most dangerous predators on the planet) started snatching colonist children to eat. Pete didn't hesitate in grabbing Charlotte and his mentor's rifle to go after the beast.
For four days, Pete was just gone. His entire family mourned his death by burring his boots in the spider caves as custom stated. However on the seventh day, sentries on the wall noticed Pete and Charlotte dragging the corpse of the 550 pound flying lizard on a makeshift sled. Pete had taken the beast down with a shot between the two armored plates near its eyes. His father agreed on the spot to let Pete join the Corp of Hunters to defend the settlements. Now, Pete seeks adventure elsewhere. His skills are good enough to leave his homeworld but he knows he has to come back some day.
Weapons/Supplies:
H-34A Hunting Carbine - This is the weapon given to every Hunter on the Hephaestus Colony. Desgined by the corporation to defend the colonists since soldiers are expensive. It is extremely accurate since it was designed to deal with flying targets that plague the colony. There are bullets that can be switched in other than the standard rounds. The explosive bullet is designed to take out the brain of the target or to expose the fleshy bits on a armored target. The other type would be the shock ammo. Designed to knock the prey out, however it requires direct hit on the flesh of the target to work and most creatures can power through it.
324A Mountain Assist Tool- The colony was next to impossible to climb by yourself. The spiders were the only ones who could climb, so the Corp gave the Hunter Corp the 324A MAT to help them keep up with their long legged friends. The tool is designed to grapple onto the hard rock cliffs of the planet and hold up to 650 pounds. Should need be, it could carry a hunter and his or her partner up a 1,500 cliff to safety. Every duo keeps at least one of these gizmos. It can drill into hard rock and with the right changes it can be used on metal. Pete does not have the magnetic attachment.
Sitra Hunting Knife- A wicked piece of work that is designed to defend the hunter should one of the beasts gets it's claws on him or her. It is designed to fit through the armor plating of most of the creature. (The First one)
Standard Hunter Gear- As a former of the Hunter Corp, Pete was given a standard issued armor set. The suit is designed to be able to keep the hunter alive in the hostile environment of the colony. It is not power armor but it helps with dealing with the giant birds of the planet. It has a filtration system built in to help the hunter breath the cold air or filter out toxins. It's main feature is to cushion the fall from high heights. The planet has large falls and the suit can cushion falls up to 300 feet. it still hurts the hunter on the fall. The suit can also interface with the spider's electronic suite. Pete can see whatever Charlotte sees through a camera.
Charlotte's armor- Hunter partners are given armor to protect the fleshy parts of their abdomen. The main use of the armor to keep the two partners connected. A head mounted camera allows the hunter to be able to watch his partner from wherever she is. There is an attached microphone so Pete can give orders from a distance of about half a kilometer. However this all depends on the conditions on the planet. The armor is not impenetrable but it is designed to help keep the spider alive while the hunter goes in for the kill. The corporation learned the hard way to give the Hunters exactly what they wanted.
Misc:
Pete rarely sleeps in a bed like a normal person. His idea of a good sleep spot is lying on Charlotte or wrapped up in one of her webs. Most people would find this horrifying but Pete loves it. He has slept upside down and on the side of a cliff without fear. Pete can sleep anywhere. He also keeps a collection of books which he reads to Charlotte since that was how children learned to read on his homeworld. The Spiders never judged you if you said something wrong. It is also common to see him having one sided conversations with her. Pete seemingly can read his partners moods to guess what she is thinking.
Pete has a tattoo of a rifle crossed with a spider and a rifle with the Latin "Socios Belli" under it. Every hunter on his planet has the tattoo once they join the Corp.
Pete has a necklace of a 8 inch long tooth hanging from his neck. It is clearly a prized possession of his.
Scientific Name:
Venator Aranea
Threat Level:
6 (Not a threat to humans due to their personalities but they can be vicious when threaten by a predator.)
Height:
1.4 m (4.3 Feet)
Length:
3 meters (9.8 feet)
Weight:
250 pounds
Description:
The Hunter's Spiders or the Creepy Crawlies as they are colloquially called by the colonists of B5E-873 (aka Hephaestus ) are strange to say the least. Due to the nature of the surface of the B5E-873 being windy and cold, the spiders stick mostly towards the protected canyons or the cave systems that network the planet. They are very pack oriented living in large family groups of dozens of spiders with an alpha leading the group. It is believed that it is this pack mentality that made it possible for the symbiotic bond between the humans and the spiders. It is thought that the spiders think that the humans are just strange small spiders with some missing legs. They are extremely sensitive to sound and movement due to the fact that their only natural predators are all airborne. It is theorized that the spiders trust the humans due to the fact that they cannot fly. All of the true predators can fly and the biologists on the colony theorize that the spiders determine anything that can fly as an enemy. This was determined after the spiders tried to "capture" a supply ship while protecting the humans from the evil flying thing. The spiders mostly eat the flying monsters that try to hide in the canyons, capturing them by using their net like webs that can span entire canyons. The venom from their large fangs are used to paralyze their prey to drag it into the dens for consumption. The large spikes on the front on the forelegs are designed to help with climbing the cliffs and fighting off predators. Their most bizarre behavior is the dances they do. Similar to honey bees on Earth, the spiders will do complex dances which have as of yet been understood by man. They are believed to be how the spiders communicate with each other. |
8,644 | 240 | 13 | 948 | 360 | Zavid stayed quiet during the trip to the room. When he got in, he took note of the simulated floors and walls, and the bar. After setting his gear down, heheaded over to it and looked through it, staying out of Harriet's way. "I myself prefer something stronger... It takes a lot for my subspecies to get wasted..." He spotted a clear bottle with a bluish purple liquid in it. "Ahh... Serrice Ice Brandy. Thatssome good stuff. Hint of blueberry, blackberry and rasperry, with just enough kick to remind you that its not something to drink casually."
He poured himself a tall glass, pressing a button to detach his helmet. As it comes off, the entire suit retracts, showing him in a leather jacket and dark pants. He placed his helmet next to him as he took a swig, reminiscing of when he first tried this stuff back on Earth with Shinzo, years ago. | Name:
Zavid Nightblade
Species:
Primus Sapiens. Geneticaly Modified human
Age:
29
Gender:
Male
Height:
6'8
Weight:
135 kg
Personality:
Calculative~Bold~Honest~Stoic~Charismatic
Zavid is a calm tactician. He values honesty and loyalty, which is rare in his line of work. He aims to exceed expectations and to break down barriers he faces as he isn't a born human. Zavid is a smooth talker, knowing several languages and weilds a golden tongue. He may not be the frontline fighter, but none have his guts. He's a bounty hunter dating a high ranking officer of the very organization against them... He's got to have some crazy in him too, as most don't see the fun in chasing "monsters". Zavid is an active defender, seeking to help others and serve the good of the people any way he can. When stressed he's often found retreating into himself, as he didn't grow up in normal society, and doesn't exactly do well when angry, which leads to him drinking.
History:
Icarus Project:
Clearance Level 9, UNFC
Goal:
The Icarus Project was a trial to see whether or not one could create the Perfect human.
Result:
Mass failure. Primus Sapiens are relatively unstable, having chemical imbalance and psychological disorders.
Trial:
Conducted on Zecrux Prime, in the Milky Way Galaxy, Sector Omega. Total Number of Subjects equaled 3000 at start. All, gen-modded from conception.
Trial was 25 years long. 25 years of tests, of needle poking flesh, and of children who never knew what it was like to love. Unlike the Giantis Sapiens, this test was cruel, sadistic and inhumane. There were no names goven to the subjects. They weren't deemed as equal in the human subspecies. They were cattle. To be jsed for testing and creating a weapon capable of tearing down armies. There was no love given to them, so they grew up without it.
The first test group was a failure. Too violent for their own good and were put down. The second, well, the second went the same way, but took out some scientists with them. The Infamous Doctor Icarus refused to stop, creating a third group. To the ones doing well, he cherished, gave them treats. Let them outside the lab to see the sun. Unlike the other humans, Primus Sapiens could handle the intense gravity of Zencrux with ease. With it's double moons and blue star sun, the planet was lush with life... But the lab only knew death.
An accident saw Icarus killed. Some say it was sabotage, others say suicide, when he realized what he'd become. The project continued, only lead by an even more evil man... Doctor Eisenhower. He wanted weapons. So he turned these young teens into a fighting force. Primus are capable of many feats humans cannot do, being faster and stronger due to the environment they were created in, and the gene edits that were dome to them. Many had "damage" and were destroyed. They say that it was because some subjects developed mental illness and Eisenhower wouldn't tolerate it.
There were a few that stood out among the rest. Subject 233, 257, 859, 860, and 1000. These five formed a close bond. When put together, they excelled in everything. Eisenhower took them and did separate tests, to see if he could do his next step: Integrate them with technology.
But it wouldn't happen. The Federation had gotten word of the project and swarmed in force with their own gene-mods, the Giantis. These humans were titans of flesh and used powerful mechs. They took control of the base and started to looknthrough the files, only to find them wiped. Eisenhower was taken in along with the other scientists and the subjects were assimilated into the military for a while. Most stayed, sekingb the thrill, but one notably broke off and decided that he wanted none of it. He took on the name Zavid Nightblade, Subject 1000.
Zavid was part of a cancelled Icarus Project. He and his kin were genetically modified at birth to be stronger, faster and smarter. Which was the goal... What they got was warriors who lived off rage and fought so much that death was a large part of the program. Following a raid by the government the project was shit down. Only a few of the subjects remain, most having to be put down for how volatile they were. Zavid was noted as one of the few successes... out of nearly a thousand subjects.
The subjects who were deemed safe were assimilated into the military. They became known for their strengths... and feared for their fits of berserker rage. The hundred or so who were left have been slowly dwindling, until only a few remained. Zavid relates to these last ones as his family, a thought shared by them all.
After a year or so of wandering, Zavid met a man who called himself Shinzo Shida, who offered him a job as a tester for his inventions. It worked out so well the pair became friends and Shinzo would get him tech to do bounty hunting and escort jobs. Currently, Shida is looking for new materials for weapons and armor, as he is the name in all advanced tech.
After a few years of bounty hunting, Zavid met Brant Quentin a man who he met after... A long night of drinking. The two stayed in touch, went on a few dates and then decided to stick together... Despite Brant being an officer in the UNFC who is against bounty hunters.
Weapons/Supplies:
Zavid prefers to be as far from targets as possible, but is one of the best in close range. His weapons and armor are made by his closest friend, who's known for his top of the line gear under the pseudonym Shinzo.
Prototype HPGR: Custom made Sniper Rifle. High powered Laser weapon.
Centipede Exo Gear: Fits like a second skin, this further enhances his alread high strength and speed. Has a built in jetpack and active camouflage(works only when still).
Centepede WPT: A beta tech that enables a short FTL dash in almost any direction. Has a long power up time.
Centepede Visor: Detects all bands of the EM spectrum. Also has a active HUD for overall status, map and motion sensor.
High Frequency Communicator: Used to communicate with Shinzo and Brant. The former as it is the only direct line to him, no one besides Brant has this. For Brant, it's how they communicate, as they are often far apart.
Lux: A rechargeable energy broadsword Can be used even when powered off like a regular blade. Blade is a meter long and made of a special alloy.
Misc:
Zavid is from Zencrux, a planet with extreme gravity. He has denser bones and higher strength than normal humans. Zencrux' gravity is 26.48 m/s2. Brandt has a six year old son, Leon who lives with his parents on Earth. |
8,645 | 240 | 14 | 1,761 | 2,977 | Dare
Now this was nice. In a way it reminded Izumi of the few times that she and her mother had vacationed on FH-K4, a planetoid that had been cultivated by some back-to-nature hippy cult for their own purposes. Granted, a cult with members from multiple solar systems, but a hippy cult nonetheless. Of course, like most cults, the moment that authorities threatened their way of life after the leader had slept with too many minors, they had, as her mother had put it, "Drank the Kool-Aid." Apparently it was some kind of euphemism from Earth's late 20th century for suicide by mass poisoning. That aside, Izumi had loved the little cabin that they'd rented, and playing in the conifer forest around it and the lake; then again, the entire planetoid was covered in coniferous forests, so it might not have mattered if it had been the same cabin or not.
Once the big boss had made his introduction and told the group to get comfy, Dare found herself drifting off into a corner by herself. She wasn't thirsty (least of all for alcohol; the first-- and last-- time she'd had booze she'd wound up sleeping with her roommate. Leave it to a girl to know how to make a girl feel good. So she merely examined the group through her visor, committing their faces to memory. She'd never been good with names, so she'd figure those out later. The lady who had led them here had looked so Viking-ish it was scary. In all honesty, if she wouldn't have been so chesty, Dare would have sworn she was a man.
The next thing she noted was a very curious sight: a droid/robot and a (very literal) fairy. She'd seen plenty of the former in her life, but the latter she'd only seen in books and movies. Then again, we live in a damn big universe, thought Dare. Fairies running around with robot bodyguards isn't as far-fetched as talking space cats, robot vacuum cleaners, or gorillas piloting spaceships shaped like Lady Liberty's head.
Izumi shifted her gaze to the left... and nearly shit bricks. Admittedly the guy she was looking at was sort of handsome, but what got her attention most was the giant freaking spider following him like a pet dog. Her first instinct was to bust out her shotgun and blow the bug away, like that Klendathan Arachnid she'd run into on a cargo ship. However, she kept her cool. But if that bug came anywhere near her, there would be trouble. | Name: Izumi M. Dare ("It's pronounced 'Dah-RAY'!")
Species: Human
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Height: 5'10" (177.7 cm)
Weight: 114 lbs (51.7 kg) ("You NEVER ask a woman that! What are you, a moron!?")
Personality: Izumi is, for lack of a better term, a tsundere. She dislikes interacting with people, but this is because she feels awkward and uncomfortable around those she's not familiar with. She covers up this fact by acting cold, snarky, and aggressive towards others. Having been raised by a single mother for the majority of her life, Dare can take care of herself quite well. In an interesting quirk, she is quite fond of animals, particularly cute ones; in fact, she's been known to go out of her way on a hunt to get a cute/young creature out of harm's way (whatever you do, NEVER bring up the "Horned Lemur Incident" when she's around; she's still so embarrassed about the incident that she's been known to thrash those who even mention Horned Lemurs in everyday conversation). Izumi is more than a bit of a gun nut, and on her time off she can often be found in her workshop, repairing and modifying weapons and armor brought to her. She's so much of a gun nut that she's been known to ask if she could "tweak" a teammate's weapons or armor in the middle of a fight. If you want to see her excited about anything, just bring up guns when talking to her... assuming you have more than an hour to kill.
History: Twenty-six years ago the CEO and owner of DareTek-- one of the largest interstellar defense contractors this side of the Milky Way-- had an affair with his secretary. As with many tales like this, said secretary discovered she was pregnant, and was subsequently fired when she told her boss. In exchange for her silence, Mr. Dare agreed to financially support her until her daughter was an adult. While it was never an extravagant amount of money, it was enough to let Izumi live a somewhat normal life. Well, almost; while other little girls asked for dolls and birthday parties, Izumi asked for combat mecha and trips to firing ranges. Unfortunately, that changed when she turned sixteen, when her mother died during a pandemic on her home planet. Before she died, however, she revealed that Izumi was the illegitimate child of one William Dare... and, therefor, an heiress (technically speaking, anyway). Through a series of misadventures, she met her father. In an interesting twist, Dare confessed to his wife that he'd had an affair; what followed was nothing short of the most spectacularly messy divorce seen in the (very) long history of Dare family divorces. Afterwards, Dare even thanked Izumi ("She always was a drama queen," he told her), and said that if she ever needed anything to ask. Her favor? Pull a few strings with his connections at GAHL, and provide training and weaponry (however she still has to pay him back for the weapons and armor). Now, at twenty-five, she's finished training, and is ready for a real hunt.
Weapons/Supplies: A set of semi-powered armor (semi-powered in the sense that it uses just enough energy to move as if she isn't wearing armor); she has four guns, but only ever takes two at once on a mission at a time-- a custom assault rifle (5.45x39mm HEIAP rounds; 30-round box magazine; safe, semi-auto, & 3-round burst-fire; "In my defense, we go after some damn big critters. I'd rather blow money on overkill than wind up as a snack."); a custom-made shotgun (12-gauge; seven-round stacked-projectile tube magazine, with both lethal and LTL rounds; semi-automatic, and both barrels can be fired at once if needed; "I'm not saying this is for zombies, but this would be GREAT to have if we run into some."; a custom-made submachine gun (9mm subsonic ammunition; 30-round box magazine; equipped with integral suppressor; "Nothing makes me feel better than the sound of automatic gunfire, but sometimes you have to get shit done quietly. God, I hate jobs like that."); a directed energy pistol ("Don't ask whose body I got this off of. Seriously, don't."); and a combat knife, which she keeps on her person at all times.
Misc: - Despite her love of animals, Izumi HATES bugs. Really, anything that could be classified as a "Bug-type" in Pokemon, she hates, and tends to go overkill when dealing with extremely large ones (and, by "overkill," absolutely NO weapon is out of the question when killing large bugs, including high-explosives).
- Touching anything in her workshop without express permission is forbidden; the last person who touched a grav-wrench got whacked so hard with it he forgot his own name.
- With the computer built into her helmet, she can track a target that she's hit with her energy pistol ("The bolts give off a unique radiation signature. Want to see if I can track you with it? I'll give you a ten-minute head start.")
- Dare has a rather strange, dark sense of humor; for example, when screwed over by a partner/boyfriend she once had, she shaved him bald in his sleep, and super-glued a dead bird to his butt.
- Because of the above, Izumi may or may not have sworn off getting romantically involved with men. |
8,646 | 240 | 15 | 1,399 | 8,773 | Richard M. Malkovich
Phoebe Quinn
(, , , , , , , ,
, )
There was much excitement and conversation from within the lobby as both new and old hunters began to interact with one another. Quinn was rather happy and satisfied with the crew she collected. The assortment of multiple species from across the nearby galaxy are at ease with one another. No signs of any conflict from anyone yet, or any speciesist outlooks. The lobby was a great big melting pot of different individuals, all going on the same agenda.
Just then, the left door to the meeting room opens, revealing a Secruity Droid who walks out up to the lobby desk. It raises its hand as he gathers everyones' attention.
"The President of GAHL is now ready for you all to come." it replies in a friendly tone, "You may now enter the Meeting Room."
Quinn looks at the others, signaling them to come in as well. As they all entered the sliding doors, they will be greeted with a still lodge-like environment, but also looking very much like your usual meeting room. It was a rather fancy one at that, with metal-wood hybrid chairs and table. A warm light illuminates from above the table. Sitting at the farthest seat in the back was the CEO Mr. Malkovich, waiting patiently for them with his hands clasped together and politely on the table. Quinn takes the seat left of the President as he sits down comfortably.
As soon as everyone sat down, Malkovich clears his throat, announcing his presence, and begins speaking.
"Welcome everyone," he speaks in a cheerful upright voice, "For everyone returning, I welcome you all back. For those who are new here, allow me to reintroduce myself more properly. My name is Richard M. Malkovich, I'm the head of the Galactic Adventure Hunting Lodge facility. I am most certainly delighted to see everyone here, both new and old. You are all here because you have demonstrated the capabilities in becoming a valued hunter. Everyone here has come from different backgrounds and different histories, some good... some not so good. You may have came here to seek adventure, maybe for redemption, for survival, or simply as a job that suites your forte. Regardless, you all have what it takes to be in this facility as both hunters and explorers, traveling across the vast cosmos to seek new worlds to explore and to hunt the bounties for a nice steady profit, as long as its regulated. Like I said, this is a hunting lodge, but a lodge that also respects nature in its entirely. We do not hunt in sport or attempt in wiping out an entire species, unless said species is an invading pest or a non-benefit for the respected environment. It may come out as ironic, yes, but that's the one major reason why this facility is legal in the first place, approved by the Galactic Environmental Organization (GEO). We do it simply to explore, for good profits, and in some cases for science."
"But enough preaching. You're here for the action, not the politics."
Malkovich then presses a button on his seat, revealing a green hologram of a planet.
"This is your first assignment." he continues, "We'll be taking it easy for this one, but the Federation Government provided us with the license to explore this planet. It goes by K2B-894, or more commonly as "Aurorias" a jungle planet found only one month ago in the Perseus Arm sector."
Several facts about the planet can be seen being typed in holographic lettering mentions facts such as:
Entire landmass is composed of only one supercontinent called Tultamia
Has two giant inland seas being Vhalori to the north and Kalivess to the south.
Largest river system has a width of over two miles and is 400 miles long.
"While several military squads had scanned the entire planet from space," the president continues, "There's been yet for the ground excursion. We have been given the opportunity to explore this location here, not too far from the Sea of Vhalori. We are simply to explore this region and report back our findings to the government. We've been given also permission to CAPTURE various animals for scientific research, but we're also ordered not to kill them unless the situation demands it. So if a predator is going to kill you, well then yes you'll be forced to kill it."
"But yes, that's basically the mission. No hunting for a specific creature yet, but I have a feeling you may get one next mission. Communication equipment, additional weaponry, capture equipment, and dossier downloads are available in the next room to your left, as well as a rough GPS map of the surface of that sector. Are there any questions you want answered before you guys are dismissed?" | Name:
Phoebe Jamison Quinn
Species:
Homo Sapien
Age:
28
Gender:
Female
Height:
6’1”
Weight:
69.8 Kg (154 Lbs)
Personality:
Phoebe is usually seen as a hardcore, no-nonsense kind of woman, expecting everyone in her team to be in tip-top shape. And while this is mostly true, in reality she’s much more friendlier and caring than you may imagine. Once you get to know her, Phoebe's much more friendly and open to conversations, but she always truly cares about her team, to the point where she will sacrifice herself to see them come through. She’s brave, tough, and extremely valiant, doing anything to get the mission done, even if she may get a little too dramatic.
History:
WIP
Weapons/Supplies:
Ralitar-Fabric Combat Suit: Her armor consists of a leather-like substance made from the armored hide of the carnivorous Ralitar, that just so happens to be mostly bullet/laser-proof. It provides almost complete flexibility and allows the user to shrug off a good few shots that happen to hit it. It’s also fireproof, keeping her clothes from getting burnt.
ET-Core Rifle Blade: The Rifle Blade is basically a rifle and a sword combined into one. It's a automatic firing blaster rifle that can extend its upper barrel into a sword. Even the handle has slots in which your fingers can grip onto. It's surprisingly light and very useful if you don't happen to have an extra melee weapon on you.
Twin F4-Maser Pistols: Quinn's F4-Maser Pistols are customized to fit in with her job as a hunter. They have three different modes, they being: Kill, Stun, and Override. She can kill her targets with several well-placed shots, she can stun them and put them out for a few minutes at most, or increase their firepower to its maximum setting, dealing twice the damage but only allowing 4 rapid shots before having a minute cool down.
Stun/Blast Grenades: Quinn also happens to bring along two types of grenades, one that stuns creatures with a low-frequency sound and regular grenades.
Medkit: Always onboard at all times, Quinn brings her trusty med-kit to either heal herself or any of her teammates. She has several painkiller pills, regenerative "bacta" fluid, needles, bandages, and anything else that's in a kit.
]Misc: |
8,647 | 240 | 16 | 15 | 3,140 | SSS - Cafeteria "Beanadiction"
A large metal construction stood in front of the double glass doors of the cafeteria. It was looking up at the sign above the entrance with a blank expression. Of course, it's not like it could express anything, as it didn't have a face to speak of. It took a step back from the door to let one of the customers out, and then went back to his previous position to observe the plastic sign hanging from the ceiling of the hallway. Large black letters on a white plate, much like the other signs in the station. Clearly, at one point someone must have thought that the name was funny enough to attract customers. Now it was hanging sadly from the ceiling, covered in dust and some kind of a frozen liquid that only god knows the origin of. These signs all pointed towards that the owner probably had second thoughts about the name since they installed the sign. The construct seemingly got bored of staring at the bland and uninteresting sign, and focused his attention on the inside of teh cafeteria. The furniture and architecture were all amde in a retro 2050s feeling, like everything else on the sation. A few customers drank coffees inside, and some of the more daring ate from the suspicious looking dough that the owners dared call a "cookie". A line of moderate size was standing in front of the cashier desk, waiting to be served their beverages. A long electronic sigh broke the stillness of the construct as it opened a door leading into the installement.
"Why exaclty did we stop here?" Elektro exclaimed as they took their place in the short line leading to the cashier. "What do you think dummy? I'm hungry!" Pisq sounded very upset as they advanced forward in the line, and no one could really blame her for it. For a good 20 minutes now, the two has been exploring the station to find any kind of information regarding the layout of the place. They were late for the shuttle that would've taken them to GAHL directly, so they had to improvise by taking a commercial space liner. Turns out that they arrived way before the briefing was supposed to begin. But as luck would have it, they had absolutely zero clue where the shuttle dropped them off, or where they were supposed to go to, so they had to figure something out. After a
couple dozen of failed attempts at asking for directions from other aliens, they had to turn to the good old method of "find it yourself".
As the line disappeared from front of them and they advanced to the cashier, a human in his early 20s gretted them. For a second he was surprised to see the EXO standing in line, and stood there without any ideas on what to do next. But the training kicked in, and he greeted the two like any other person. "Hello, what do you want to order?" A moment of silence as Pisq and Elektro discussed the details of the order in silence, and then the cheery female voice emerged from the voice synthetizer of the helmet. "I want a single donut, of the smallest size possible!" The cashier looked behind his back at his manager with a confused look, but after a silent gesture that could've meant anything he followed the order. He took the smallest donut possible from the display case, and then put it into a small paper bag. On his cash register the cost of the donut popped up, and then an incoming transaction quickly payed for it. "Anything else, um, miss?". Elektro grabbed the bag in his hand and shaked his head as a response. Pisq spoke up again just so she could have the last word. "That's all! Thanks!" They quickly left the cafeteria and left behind the confused cashier and patrons of the cafeteria.
44 minutes later, 2 minutes since debriefing began
SSS - Some corridor near GAHL
The sight of a Combat EXO carrying an adorably small paper bag as it is running through corridors is something most people won't forget for a lifetime. The comedic effect of such a scenraio can easely overwhelm even those with steel nerves and no sense of humour. Thankfully, the aliens on the sation mostly smiled at the sight, and only a few of them started laughing. However wherever they passed by, phones appeared from out of pockets, and the cameras in helmets started recording. In a few days they would be internet sensations. However Elektro had better things to do than to worry about keeping up a decent image of themselves. After they left the cafeteriea, Pisq wanted to eat the donut that they bought, but he locked the cockpit door and told her that she can only eat it after they arrive at the briefing. That was about 40 minutes ago, and Pisq refused to help him ever since, giving him the silent treatment. He could feel for Pisq being hungry, but if she mucnhed down on the donut then they would have to stop somewhere, and they were already late. So the best he could do was to hold the bag in his hand as he ran through teh corridors to find the place where they were supposed to arrive at 2 minutes ago.
The discovery came as a complete suprise to Elektro. After passing by a few doors with nothing more than numbers above them, he stopped to check on Pisq, and to see if she was still mad at him anymore. "If you helped me find the place, we could already be there, and you could've already eaten your donut. But if you refuse to assist me for any longer, I am never going to give it to you.". Pisq who was pretending to be sleeping all this time looked around the cockpit with an angry face and smahsed her hands on the terminal inside. "That's not fair! I just wanted to eat a donut, and now you are threatening me to deny me of a single wish. You are such a meanie!" She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, silently observing the outside through the widescreen on the inside. She was clearly sulking, and Elektro had no idea what to do with her anymore. He figured that he'll just let her be for the time being, and then apologise when they find the GAHL place. Pisq's voice interrupted his thoughts as she spoke up, focusing on something shown on the screen. "You big dummy! Isn't this door the place?". The door next to them looked just like any other room that they passed by, the number above the door and a holopad on the side. On the screen the four letters, G A H L, could be read clearly, and the company logo was spinning in the background. "Well, that was certainly easier than I imagined.". With a statisfied look on her face, Pisq leaned back in the chair, and Elektro knocked on the door with his empty hand.
A droid opened the door after a short wait. It was a commercial Security Droid, with the name "Bishop" painted over the white pnales of it's legs. "Mister Malkovich is currently busy. What is the manner of your business?". Pisq didn't think before rushing an answer, the sweet dreams of munching on a donut floating in her mind. "Step away rustbucket! We are here for a meeting and we need to get in yesterday!". thought the face of the security droid didn't, and couldn't change, the lack of reaction made it clear that it was not impressed by the answer it received. Pisq softened on her tone and asked again, as she saw her chances of tasting a donut fleeting away rapidly, and it was a risk she wasn't willing to take. "Pretty, please? We have an ID! Show him Elektro!".
"Ah yes, the grunt's work is mine as usual. Here is our ID. Apologies for the late arrival but we missed the shuttle, and then got lost in the station. I am sure you can understand." He transmitted their ID codes to the security droid, and then waited silently for the answer. The light in the eye of the droid seemed to flicker for a second, and then it lit up in green twice as it identified the IDs. "Miss Pisq, and Mister Elektro. You are late to the appointement, Mister Malkovich has already begun the presentation in the metting room." The droid walked out of the way, and let the two latecomers in. He closed the door and then began walking towards the door on the other side of the room. Pisq bent so close to the screen as she could, her nose touching the display as she observed the view. She never saw so much wood in a space station before. Or anywhere that wasn't a nature reserve or a park as a matter of fact. The cheap trick of composites and holo displays was good enough to fool her, but Elektro wasn't so breathtaken by the sight. He was quick to note that it was all facade, a pretty good one at that, but still nothing more than a simple show. Still, he didn't tell it to Pisq, as she seemed happier looking at the fake wood, than she was all day, and especially since they came to the station.
As they reached the door on the opposite side of the room, the droid stopped and spoke up. "Mister Malkovich and the other hunters are beyond this door, in the briefing room. Now if you excuse me." Then it left them in front of the door, and went back to whatever it was doing before they arrived. "Well, what are we waiting for? I'm getting really hungry!".
Elektro pushed the door in, and it loudly swung open as they entered the room. It was a spacious space with a circular table in the middle with chairs around them, most of which were occupied by alien hunters. They seemed to have interrupted someone from speaking up, and a newfound silence befell the room as most of the people inside turned their heads to observe the source of distraction. Whatever kind of briefing was going on, nothing was shown on the holo, and Elektro guessed that they were late for the presentation. Pisq could only see the paper bag that they were carrying, and taste the donut in her mouth. "Heyo, nice to meet you! Sorry for the late arrival!". Elektro shook his head and formally introduced themselves, seeing how Pisq was unable to do it. "My deepest apologies for being late. I am Elektro, and the gal you heard before is Pisq. We are pleased to make your acquaintance."
Pisq giggled inside the cockpit and whispered to Elektro with a grin on her face: "When can I get my donut?" | Name: Robert Williams and 4NNA respectively
Species: Human and Iljonor respectively
Age: 23 and 5 respectively
Gender: Male and Synthetic (refer as she) respectively
Height: 6'2" and 6'5" respectively
Weight: 82 kilograms and ~470 kilograms respectively
Personality:
Robert - Robert is a true human genious. He is an overall positive young lad who prefers nothing more than enjoying the company of some trusted people. He is polite but he is not limited to kind words. He is friendly towards everyone, but it takes a lot of time to truly become his friend. Robert wears his heart inside out, and his feelings often betray his brilliant mind. Maybe this is the only way he can control his cold and analytic thoughts.
4NNA - Born as a one of a kind experiment, 4NNA is different from other Iljonor. Thought she shares the same base principles of his race, she was raised by a different ideology, one where the reliance on companionship is not needed. She is much more capable and likely to do actions on her own than the other Iljonor, who often feel guilty for leaving their companions. And without having to protect a small creature from harm, she isn't as protective as the others. She however debelops much more genuine feels and thoughts as a consequence. She is unreliable compared to other Iljonor, and much more human than them in this sense.
History: When one says Pixique, a lot of people have no clue. Iljonor only rings a few bells, and even the EXOs so commonly seem excite the minority. But the lifestyle of the Pixique may seem heartwarming for an orphant who feels alone and defenseless in the world.
Enter Robert: a young genious born and raised on a space station without parents, who is popular with many, but feels so alone deep at heart. The steadely growing influence of the Pixique and the EXOs plant a new idea in his head. Maybe not all of the Iljonor are for tiny fairies. He quickly began working on an AI, based off of the Iljonor mind, but he added his own spice to it.
Enter 4NNA: The Iljonor with a severe case of identity crisis. Robert initially created her as a computer program to char with. She was always convinced she was human, without the ability to truly know she wasn't, but when Robert finally finished her EXO and she could see for the first time that she was something else, she ran away. Before long she met other Iljonors, from whom she learned her true identity. But with her mind and feelings so real, she wasn't exactly sure what was she exactly.
A good chunk of the duo's time together was spent talking about existential questions, and playing chess and other equally entertaining board games. 4NNA had to come to a conclusion about herself, and Robert needed her to be there for him. Without anywhere to really go for either of them, they stuck together day by day. Eventually a relation developed between then, similar to that of the Pixique and Iljonor, but also more human and genuine. So after a while, they would naturally live together, and would keep each other's company.
-TBA-
Weapons/Supplies:
-TBA-
Misc:
-TBA- |
8,648 | 240 | 17 | 673 | 764 | Though Phoebe seemed to be to busy to answer her query some others seemed to be willing to give recommendations, namely the green woman and the giant of a human. She graciously accepted the woman’s drink suggestion, taking the glass in her hand.
”I won’t be able to compare it to human rum, but cheers for the suggestion”
Then, perhaps to the confusion of the others, she retrieved a small salt grinder and added a few turns of salt to the drink, after which a straw extended from her helmet. While she mixed the drink with the straw she replied to the giant of a man.
”If it that makes a big man like yourself drunk it might be a bit much for someone my size to be drinking before a meeting. I’ll keep it in mind for when it comes to celebrating with after our first hunt together though.”
Satisfied that the rum was suitably salinated to prevent overhydration the other end of the straw extended inside her helmet to her lips, whereupon she began daintily sipping at the drink. In hindsight maybe she shouldn’t be drinking raw rum before a meeting either, but it was still pretty tasty even taken slowly. She gave the woman a grin and a thumbs up to her suggestion.
At that point they were all called inside for the briefing. Rather than try and use the biped shaped chairs she simply found somewhere around the table to stand, lowering herself down so she could rest her drink and elbows on the table, resting her hands on the bottom of her domed helm. This did mean her tail was kind of sticking out of the ring of chairs, something she did not realize might be a little inconvenient for the others.
After the briefing she was, she had to admit, a little disappointed that they weren't going to be specifically hunting anything this time but she was looking forward to the prospect of exploring and the capturing of samples would give her practice with her newly acquired dart gun.
She was thinking about what else she might want to get from the armory and how to pick a fight with a predator so he would atleast get some meat out of this expedition when a combat droid and a small creature who was hungrily eyeing a small paper bag the robot was carrying. The pair introduced themselves as Elektro and Pisq.
”Nice to meet you both, I’m Arra”
She waved as she gave them, and everyone else, her name. | Name: Arra
Species: Syreni Chondrichthyes (Aquarian)
Age: 21
Gender: F
Height: 1.8M
Weight: 56 KG
Personality:
She is inquisitive, eager to explore the many strange worlds most of her kind will never other to even read about. Probably gets a bit too excited when killing things. When not hunting she is rather laid back and will generally either go sight seeing, be reading about new places she could go or trying out new meats.
History:
One of the fairly rare members of her kind that take any interest in living above the waves she has taken up monster hunting as a profession primarily as an excuse to explore strange new worlds and get paid for it.
Originally one of the many hunters employed by her city to sustain it’s endless desire for meat she showed enough aptitude and saved enough money to take her profession to the stars. She is currently rather new to land based hunting, and thus lacks the firepower to take down anything particularly large or well armored. She learned this the hard way when a Rathanus Slicianus cut off one of her hands when her glaive got stuck in it’s cartilage. She managed to get away and then get mechanical replacement and was somewhat humbled by the experience, forcing her to come to terms with the fact that without a hunting shiver to back her up she would need to be more strategic with her approaches, which is when she bought the harpoon gun and dart launcher.
She is currently writing a cookbook of the various xenos meats from an Aquarian hunter’s perspective and is hoping to expand her repertoire of hunted beasts in order to expand it.
Weapons/Supplies:
Mobility belt: an array of 4 tentacle like limbs that are used for on land mobility, generally for 4 legged walking. The limbs feature optical sensors that help the user gauge how close they are to terrain. These are naturally linked to her, and so their movements are the same as using her own natural limbs.
Extra-aquatic survival helm: An extremely durable bullet proof glass dome and an accompanying life support system keep her from drowning on land. It also includes an inbuilt communication suite for getting sound in and out of her watery enclosure and for making long distance calls. Features an airlock system to get food in and out.
Glaive: A traditional hunting weapon, though this example’s blade is made of steel rather than the sharpened bone of yester-years.
Emergency survival kit: including flares, rations, glass repair patches, bottled seawater, a swiss army knife, emergency lift balloon and other small useful items.
A regular old harpoon launcher is useful for stopping pray from escaping. Featuring a strong cable trailing from the large metal bolt that stays fixed in its target, if the user manages to secure the launcher to a tree quick enough it can trap a quarry and leave them ripe for butchering.
While this pistol sized weapon features virtually zero penetration power, if it can deliver its payload of elephant tranquilizers to a weak spot of a target then it can knock small creatures out cold or make larger ones tired and sluggish.
Misc: |
8,649 | 240 | 18 | 2,587 | 440 | Onyeka Guerrero
"Welcome everyone. For everyone returning, I welcome you all back. For those who are new here... blah blah blah-- Precisely what Forgettable-face Generic-Name began to ramble about was immediately ignored from that point forward. As she was seated next to Quinn, Onyeka used her vantage point to stare more around at the others in the room. Eventually the results on what these creatures called themselves would come back from Rubio's research but for now, Onyeka needed to give them all some sort of nickname. Most would be easy. Spiderman, Shark Girl, Mr. Satan, Lawncare-- easy names-- extremely original too. Smirking within the confines of her helmet, Onyeka's attention was only caught when the hologram appeared.
Why was he going over this again?
Had no one else decided it important to get a bit of preliminary research done before the meeting? This was already reading as a sketchy situation if so. Sure most weren't professionals and hunting didn't require such a mindset but Onyeka seriously hoped that none of them were seeing this stuff for the first time. By the time Onyeka thoroughly drove her hopes for the team down into the depths of the abyss, the floor was opened for questions. She was just about to speak up when the door swung open loudly.
"My deepest apologies for being late. I am Elektro, and the gal you heard before is Pisq. We are pleased to make your acquaintance."
Onyeka glared at Pisq as they-- he?-- made introductions. And then another one introduced themselves. Throwing her hands up, Onyeka turned to face Malkovitch. "More importantly and getting back to the meeting currently in progress," Onyeka spoke up firmly, "The floor was open regarding questions about the expedition. Seeing as the awkward silence has passed--" leaning back into her chair, Onyeka curtly asked Malkovitch "-- will I be filling my traditional reconnaissance role or am I forced to walk alongside the grunts?"
Here was a question that held Onyeka's mood entirely within it's answer. Normally she would be sent forward, to penetrate closer to the objective, one to two hours earlier than the "grunts" in order to obtain real-time information about the mission, terrain, personnel occupying the space, etc., and she wasn't generally involved in the pressing forward by the ground troops afterward. Sure, Onyeka was ordered to press forward with the infantry or whatever sometimes but she absolutely hated it and saw it as extremely not her job. She got in, gathered intelligence or set up an observation post, then either got out or acted as an installation for constant real-time information feeds.
That was her job. She wanted to do her job. Simply that. | Name:
Onyeka Guerrero
Species:
Homo sapiens
Age:
29
Gender:
Female
Height:
5ft 4in
Weight:
138lbs
Personality:
While she may be considered extroverted, humorous, and outgoing, Onyeka seems to specialize in testing the patience of others. Wholly on purpose and definitely for her own enjoyment, Onyeka spends most of her time pestering others after introducing herself, completely fascinated with the natures of other beings. There is a lot of meanness and pettiness in Onyeka's actions and she seems to operate on an "eye for an eye" type of moral code. That being said, her loyalty is quite quick to change, and she definitely puts herself first when it comes to dangerous situations. It seems that the top three things on Onyeka's priority list are herself, her job, and her armor. To call Onyeka egotistical would not be able to properly summarize the distance and depths of her narcissism. Despite her otherwise irksome qualities, none can doubt Onyeka's brilliance with technology-- particularly defensive shields, electromagnetic generators, and survey-scout equipment. Some have even called her a prodigy.
History:
The Trinal Concordant from Earth is known as something of an extremist group. Created hundreds of years ago after a rather brutal prisoner uprising on Earth, in what was known at the time as Detroit, Michigan, the group consisting of hundreds of prisoners essentially took over the bankrupt and mostly abandoned city, then rebuilt it from underground and up. Their success was largely due to several conflicts across the globe and world leader attention being elsewhere. By the time attention was turned back to them, their system of government was formed, and they gained a large population boost from sympathizers, organizers, homeless, and criminals alike. While a long legal and sometimes militaristic fight followed, eventually the Trinal Concordant was recognized as a legal party within the state and their hold upon the rebuilt and repopulated city of Detroit was no longer disputed.
Still... there are those that regard Greater Detroit as a city full of criminals and vagrants, often looking down on people from Greater Detroit as untrustworthy. G-troitians simply laugh at the rumors and do nothing to dispute them, even though they happen to have one of the most advanced defensive armor and weaponry programs in North America. The Citystate's main export to date are Electromagnetic Shielding Arrays for space faring vessels.
It was in the citystate of Earth's Greater Detroit that Onyeka was born. Raised by the city, trained by the city, and wholly supported by the city, Onyeka eventually became one of the more well known reconnaissance and recovery operators in the Greater Detroit militia. Her talents lay in her intellect. She was quickly able to master their home grown "R2Y Magnetic Barrier" system-- a personal defense shielding array. After developing new and greater defensive shields, Onyeka made a name for herself in the personal-defense technology field, often being spoken of as a prodigy. Still, there lurked the itch for more action in Onyeka and she regarded her recon and rec-ops jobs as the best time she'd ever had in her life. After the recruiting push for the GAHL went out, Onyeka figured she had found exactly the excitement she had been craving in her life, not to mention a better method to field-test new developments.
Weapons/Supplies:
DANCER -- Custom Built "D5L Legacy Armor" -- Pictured Above
Antiquated by newer generations of armor, due to it's limitations, Onyeka values this version for it's more "hearty" characteristics, rather than it's obvious shortcomings. Features an integrated propulsion systems capable of propelling the user high into the air and cushioning their descent. With modification, the boosters are capable of sustained flight but require a 1minute recharge after a maximum limit of 2minutes worth of flight, and the modifications take hours worth of time to complete. The suit also comes with a repelling system, with jet propulsion forced steel-cable 35ft long and semi-magnetic hooks that can be activated and deactivated with a switch. Active strength supplementary systems are weak compared to modern armors, only capable of lifting a max weight of 300lbs. Onyeka has made several cosmetic modifications to color and detail-- the soft lighting on the armor's exterior can be deactivated at will. D5L Armor's most prolific shortcoming was the ease with which it's back mounted power packs could be targeted and destroyed, often damaging the person within the armor in the process. Onyeka has armored them considerably and integrated a set of sound cannons into them but, they still present a rather appealing target. The second weakness is in the lack of armor around the midriff and legs-- clearly indicating the need for the user to not involve themselves in heavy confrontation. This armor is light, designed purely for scouting, and that much is glaringly obvious.
Scouting Array: A visual overlay and on board VR computer system with several overlays specifically designed for measuring, scouting, and analyzing independently of larger equipment. Overlays and systems include: Integrated SONAR, laser distance meter, microwave altimeter, thermometer, depth meter, heat-sensory index, wind meter, infra-red sight array, speedometer, metal detector, and the capability of housing up to 50TB's worth of additional programs. A camera array rests on the head, capable of linking with larger monitoring systems.
"Hummingbird" Optical Drones: Two remote control cameras the size of a hummingbird, with movement speeds exceeding 50MPH, capable of scouting at a range of 10miles away from the DANCER, and capable of silent movement. Both host live feed capabilities, high definition cameras, microphones, and laser measurement systems. Unfortunately their battery life lasts only 1hr without recharge when recording and 40minutes when life feeding.
BASS Barrier Personal Defense System: Close-Range sound cannons capable of stunning opponents with up to three bursts worth of charge. Useless against resilient opponents as it was designed to fend off Earth bears and humans.
Reflection Series MK3 Magnetic Barrier: Onyeka's pride and joy of a creation. A plasma field generator designed to mitigate shockwaves, repel radiation from UV to X-Ray, and halt movement of speeding objects with dynamic and moving application. The DANCER armor's plasma generators, housed in the shoulders and hands, are capable of spreading plasma charge with motion in order for the use to "paint" a field within which the shield deploys. It earned the name "Reflection" based upon it's oddly mirror-like qualities when properly deployed. The shield can be disrupted by intense heat, extreme cold, blows with the force of an anti-tank round, or poorly timed lightning. Generally it's maximum length of continuous activation is around 20minutes without stress and 5minutes under intense stress-- a capability that is continuously being worked on. The fact that the equipment is still experimental comes with the rather serious occurrence of it occasionally not working altogether-- rare but possible. There also stands the outlying possibility of it overloading DANCER's power houses when under stress.
"Pea Shooter" - Custom UZI Model YR448: A Submachine gun that fires off "nails" tipped with explosive heads. Generally the nails embed themselves into an opponent then explode, after three seconds, with the force of a firecracker-- sometimes they explode on impact-- it's still highly in development. Clip size is limited to 40 rounds and the weapon fires at 700RPM-- in other words it spits bullets faster than it can be reloaded and aiming is essentially pointless.
Dirk: A simple dirk made from steel. Well maintained. Nothing special about it.
Misc:
Onyeka is a jerk. No doubt about it.
And also very openly Xenophobic. |
8,650 | 240 | 19 | 15 | 3,140 | As they stood in the doorway, the eyes of many turned towards them. The first one to react to their presence was an aquatic alien in a weird suit, who replied with a friendly tone and waved. Pisq instantly knew that teasing her will be a lot of fun, and that she could be a cool friend to have. Elektro inspected the rest of the gang, assessing their features and complying a massive detailed description in his Memory Banks for later reviewing. Data from heat to biometric signatures all bundled together into one file, it was the perk of being an Iljonor with an EXO to gather info at insane speeds. By the time the second person spoke up, Elektro pretty much knew everything publicly avaible about the other people in the room, and started to convert it to a format better suited for Pisq. That is, bright and colorful images and graphs to keep her focused despite her TERRIBLE attention spam.
Now, when the second personspoke up, the tension in the air grew by a lot. Elektro was aware of how irritating Pisq can be when she is deliberately teasing someone, but this person just hit a new record with bluntness. She called everyone in the room a "grunt", and then went on to complain about her status. She also completely ignored the fact that the two entered which was an insult in itself. By default, Elektro was programmed to be as genlemanly as possible, so he couldn't stright up tell her to shut it. Instead he devised a different way to diffuse the dangerous situation that this woman created. Before he could speak up, Pisq spoke to him in the cockpit. "I hope you have a good comeback big boy." She leaned forward inside the cocpit and observed this "Onyeka Guerrero" chick, hoping that they would have a good little chat.
Elektro straightened his pose and spoke up directly towards Onyeka. "Excuse my intrusion, but you must be confusing me with someone else. I am not a "grunt" by any definition of the word, quite the contrary actually. I am controlling a Mk.V EXO Pixique Assistance Unit equipped with state of the art technology, designed for extensive combat use and constructed by the best in the industry. Next time I advise you check your facts before belittling others to avoid any unnecessary conflicts and heated situations." Well, there goes the entire plan of giving her a good comeback. This was about the lamest POSSIBLE thing Elektro could've said, and Pisq couldn't help but fall out of her seat in her amusement. After clambering back into her prevoius location, she couldn't help but note Elektro's poor comeback. "Wow, you went in REAL hard Elektro. She must be really SHAKEN right about now, her morale withering away in fear." Elektro replied in a slightly irritated, but curious tone. "I sense sarcasm in your speech pattern. Are you distatisfied with my answer?"
Pisq chuckled as she leaned back in the seat of the cockpit, her amusement sourcing from the ridicolousness of the situation. She crossed her arms and looked really angrily into the camera inside the cockpit, showing the tounge to Elektro. | Name: Robert Williams and 4NNA respectively
Species: Human and Iljonor respectively
Age: 23 and 5 respectively
Gender: Male and Synthetic (refer as she) respectively
Height: 6'2" and 6'5" respectively
Weight: 82 kilograms and ~470 kilograms respectively
Personality:
Robert - Robert is a true human genious. He is an overall positive young lad who prefers nothing more than enjoying the company of some trusted people. He is polite but he is not limited to kind words. He is friendly towards everyone, but it takes a lot of time to truly become his friend. Robert wears his heart inside out, and his feelings often betray his brilliant mind. Maybe this is the only way he can control his cold and analytic thoughts.
4NNA - Born as a one of a kind experiment, 4NNA is different from other Iljonor. Thought she shares the same base principles of his race, she was raised by a different ideology, one where the reliance on companionship is not needed. She is much more capable and likely to do actions on her own than the other Iljonor, who often feel guilty for leaving their companions. And without having to protect a small creature from harm, she isn't as protective as the others. She however debelops much more genuine feels and thoughts as a consequence. She is unreliable compared to other Iljonor, and much more human than them in this sense.
History: When one says Pixique, a lot of people have no clue. Iljonor only rings a few bells, and even the EXOs so commonly seem excite the minority. But the lifestyle of the Pixique may seem heartwarming for an orphant who feels alone and defenseless in the world.
Enter Robert: a young genious born and raised on a space station without parents, who is popular with many, but feels so alone deep at heart. The steadely growing influence of the Pixique and the EXOs plant a new idea in his head. Maybe not all of the Iljonor are for tiny fairies. He quickly began working on an AI, based off of the Iljonor mind, but he added his own spice to it.
Enter 4NNA: The Iljonor with a severe case of identity crisis. Robert initially created her as a computer program to char with. She was always convinced she was human, without the ability to truly know she wasn't, but when Robert finally finished her EXO and she could see for the first time that she was something else, she ran away. Before long she met other Iljonors, from whom she learned her true identity. But with her mind and feelings so real, she wasn't exactly sure what was she exactly.
A good chunk of the duo's time together was spent talking about existential questions, and playing chess and other equally entertaining board games. 4NNA had to come to a conclusion about herself, and Robert needed her to be there for him. Without anywhere to really go for either of them, they stuck together day by day. Eventually a relation developed between then, similar to that of the Pixique and Iljonor, but also more human and genuine. So after a while, they would naturally live together, and would keep each other's company.
-TBA-
Weapons/Supplies:
-TBA-
Misc:
-TBA- |
8,651 | 240 | 20 | 2,356 | 5,036 | Having been shuffled into the next room any conversation had been cut off. But it hadn't been a lot of time and they'd been warned so it wasn't like the was a surprise. Anyhow, they were briefed on their first mission and it wasn't all that surprising.
Before things could get underway another burst in and momentarily stalled the briefing. However things didn't get sidetracked too much as Onyeka dragged it back on topic pretty quickly. Referring to the others as grunts was a low blow, but not really enough that Harriet would make a big deal out of it. The new arrival responded quite logically and corrected the woman though. That probably wasn't going to go over that well considering her prior behavior.
Even though the plant woman didn't intend to respond in anger she did sit up and raise a finger. "Grunts? Listen, I resemble that remark." She smiled and rolled her eyes slightly. All things considered, and given her background, she would probably qualify as a grunt. Holding no high position or rank before her transformation she hadn't even had the chance to get that far. Either way she didn't intend to get on anyone's bad side if she could help it. | Name: Pete McAllister
Species:
Homo Sapiens
Age:
19
Gender:
Male
Height:
6 foot five inches tall
Weight:
220 pounds
Personality:
Pete is oddly cheerful for having grown up in such an ugly place like Hephaestus. He always seems to be whistling a happy tune and does not seem to see the horror in walking around with a gigantic spider the size of a small pony. It is just a normal day for him to walk around with her. Pete always has a joke or a pun to use. Pete's cheerful attitude seems to fade away as soon as he is on the hunt. He becomes all business while he is after his prey. He kills without remorse or care. Pete learned the hard way that certain creatures need to die to protect others. He spent his life on a colony while everything wanted him dead and thus he knows how to kill should he need to. However, he has never truly left his home system. There is a whole galaxy out there and Pete wants to see it all. This is his first time away from home and it definitely shows.
History:
Peter McAllister came from an old Hephaestus' family. His grandparents were some of the fist colonists on world. The McAllister's were a family of leaders and they were mine administrators by trade. Thus they were rich and powerful. His father saw them as better than their neighbors and that they were above them all. Pete had never liked that and would do anything to get out. When he was five years old, Pete wandered away from the colony towards the nearby spider cave. A search party was sent out to make sure that the flying beasts had not killed him. When they found Pete four hours later, he was safely in the caves surrounded by spiderlings. In typical spider manner, they had taken another two legged hairless spider into the caves where he belonged. From that day onward, Pete had become obsessed with the spiders. His grandmother had been a Corp Hunter and Pete wanted to be one for years. His father disagreed and tried to keep his son on the path of becoming an administrator like him. In secret, Pete was getting lessons from an old retired Hunter on the ways of Spider Hunting. When he was ten, Pete bonded with a young female spider than he named Charlotte after an old Earth book he had read. The pair where always walking the streets and Pete would read to his spider. For years, Pete wanted to join the Corp of Hunters but his father refused. Pete finally got his wish at the age of fifteen when a Terror Bird (one of the largest and most dangerous predators on the planet) started snatching colonist children to eat. Pete didn't hesitate in grabbing Charlotte and his mentor's rifle to go after the beast.
For four days, Pete was just gone. His entire family mourned his death by burring his boots in the spider caves as custom stated. However on the seventh day, sentries on the wall noticed Pete and Charlotte dragging the corpse of the 550 pound flying lizard on a makeshift sled. Pete had taken the beast down with a shot between the two armored plates near its eyes. His father agreed on the spot to let Pete join the Corp of Hunters to defend the settlements. Now, Pete seeks adventure elsewhere. His skills are good enough to leave his homeworld but he knows he has to come back some day.
Weapons/Supplies:
H-34A Hunting Carbine - This is the weapon given to every Hunter on the Hephaestus Colony. Desgined by the corporation to defend the colonists since soldiers are expensive. It is extremely accurate since it was designed to deal with flying targets that plague the colony. There are bullets that can be switched in other than the standard rounds. The explosive bullet is designed to take out the brain of the target or to expose the fleshy bits on a armored target. The other type would be the shock ammo. Designed to knock the prey out, however it requires direct hit on the flesh of the target to work and most creatures can power through it.
324A Mountain Assist Tool- The colony was next to impossible to climb by yourself. The spiders were the only ones who could climb, so the Corp gave the Hunter Corp the 324A MAT to help them keep up with their long legged friends. The tool is designed to grapple onto the hard rock cliffs of the planet and hold up to 650 pounds. Should need be, it could carry a hunter and his or her partner up a 1,500 cliff to safety. Every duo keeps at least one of these gizmos. It can drill into hard rock and with the right changes it can be used on metal. Pete does not have the magnetic attachment.
Sitra Hunting Knife- A wicked piece of work that is designed to defend the hunter should one of the beasts gets it's claws on him or her. It is designed to fit through the armor plating of most of the creature. (The First one)
Standard Hunter Gear- As a former of the Hunter Corp, Pete was given a standard issued armor set. The suit is designed to be able to keep the hunter alive in the hostile environment of the colony. It is not power armor but it helps with dealing with the giant birds of the planet. It has a filtration system built in to help the hunter breath the cold air or filter out toxins. It's main feature is to cushion the fall from high heights. The planet has large falls and the suit can cushion falls up to 300 feet. it still hurts the hunter on the fall. The suit can also interface with the spider's electronic suite. Pete can see whatever Charlotte sees through a camera.
Charlotte's armor- Hunter partners are given armor to protect the fleshy parts of their abdomen. The main use of the armor to keep the two partners connected. A head mounted camera allows the hunter to be able to watch his partner from wherever she is. There is an attached microphone so Pete can give orders from a distance of about half a kilometer. However this all depends on the conditions on the planet. The armor is not impenetrable but it is designed to help keep the spider alive while the hunter goes in for the kill. The corporation learned the hard way to give the Hunters exactly what they wanted.
Misc:
Pete rarely sleeps in a bed like a normal person. His idea of a good sleep spot is lying on Charlotte or wrapped up in one of her webs. Most people would find this horrifying but Pete loves it. He has slept upside down and on the side of a cliff without fear. Pete can sleep anywhere. He also keeps a collection of books which he reads to Charlotte since that was how children learned to read on his homeworld. The Spiders never judged you if you said something wrong. It is also common to see him having one sided conversations with her. Pete seemingly can read his partners moods to guess what she is thinking.
Pete has a tattoo of a rifle crossed with a spider and a rifle with the Latin "Socios Belli" under it. Every hunter on his planet has the tattoo once they join the Corp.
Pete has a necklace of a 8 inch long tooth hanging from his neck. It is clearly a prized possession of his.
Scientific Name:
Venator Aranea
Threat Level:
6 (Not a threat to humans due to their personalities but they can be vicious when threaten by a predator.)
Height:
1.4 m (4.3 Feet)
Length:
3 meters (9.8 feet)
Weight:
250 pounds
Description:
The Hunter's Spiders or the Creepy Crawlies as they are colloquially called by the colonists of B5E-873 (aka Hephaestus ) are strange to say the least. Due to the nature of the surface of the B5E-873 being windy and cold, the spiders stick mostly towards the protected canyons or the cave systems that network the planet. They are very pack oriented living in large family groups of dozens of spiders with an alpha leading the group. It is believed that it is this pack mentality that made it possible for the symbiotic bond between the humans and the spiders. It is thought that the spiders think that the humans are just strange small spiders with some missing legs. They are extremely sensitive to sound and movement due to the fact that their only natural predators are all airborne. It is theorized that the spiders trust the humans due to the fact that they cannot fly. All of the true predators can fly and the biologists on the colony theorize that the spiders determine anything that can fly as an enemy. This was determined after the spiders tried to "capture" a supply ship while protecting the humans from the evil flying thing. The spiders mostly eat the flying monsters that try to hide in the canyons, capturing them by using their net like webs that can span entire canyons. The venom from their large fangs are used to paralyze their prey to drag it into the dens for consumption. The large spikes on the front on the forelegs are designed to help with climbing the cliffs and fighting off predators. Their most bizarre behavior is the dances they do. Similar to honey bees on Earth, the spiders will do complex dances which have as of yet been understood by man. They are believed to be how the spiders communicate with each other. |
8,652 | 240 | 21 | 948 | 360 | Zavid
Zavid followed the rest into the conference room. With little more than a soft grunt as he sit in the chair, he was silemt, just monitoring the people and studying the map given, making his own copy study in front of him using one of his tech implamts. His eyes radiated a soft dark glow, a side effect of the implant that he was used to. But to others, it would be quite unnerving to see something this creepy.
As Malkovich went on Zavid made little notes on the planet, marking rivers and forests. He paused when the newest members arrived. He was unfamiliar with the species, but generally uninterested for the moment, noting that this Pisq was rather... Childish.
What riled David was Oneyka's rather abrasive comment. After hearing Harriet reply he spoke up. "I happen to not be a 'grunt'. Don't even think about calling me that, I'd be happy to share my extensive list of confirmed kills with you." David prided himself in being one of the best. The whole point of Zavid being here was to provide the necessary force should things go wrong. Being what he was, Zavid was often misjudged as a brute, but he was one of the smartest of his kind, a feat that all Primus shared, which was why most of the beserk ones absolutely had to be put down. Horror stories rippled out through the military at how some of them had snapped, killing thousands before being put down, usually with a lot bullets and missile launchers, most of them having met their end by the giant human sitting rather stoicly, not even looking at anyone other than the mini hologram planet he was marking. | Name:
Zavid Nightblade
Species:
Primus Sapiens. Geneticaly Modified human
Age:
29
Gender:
Male
Height:
6'8
Weight:
135 kg
Personality:
Calculative~Bold~Honest~Stoic~Charismatic
Zavid is a calm tactician. He values honesty and loyalty, which is rare in his line of work. He aims to exceed expectations and to break down barriers he faces as he isn't a born human. Zavid is a smooth talker, knowing several languages and weilds a golden tongue. He may not be the frontline fighter, but none have his guts. He's a bounty hunter dating a high ranking officer of the very organization against them... He's got to have some crazy in him too, as most don't see the fun in chasing "monsters". Zavid is an active defender, seeking to help others and serve the good of the people any way he can. When stressed he's often found retreating into himself, as he didn't grow up in normal society, and doesn't exactly do well when angry, which leads to him drinking.
History:
Icarus Project:
Clearance Level 9, UNFC
Goal:
The Icarus Project was a trial to see whether or not one could create the Perfect human.
Result:
Mass failure. Primus Sapiens are relatively unstable, having chemical imbalance and psychological disorders.
Trial:
Conducted on Zecrux Prime, in the Milky Way Galaxy, Sector Omega. Total Number of Subjects equaled 3000 at start. All, gen-modded from conception.
Trial was 25 years long. 25 years of tests, of needle poking flesh, and of children who never knew what it was like to love. Unlike the Giantis Sapiens, this test was cruel, sadistic and inhumane. There were no names goven to the subjects. They weren't deemed as equal in the human subspecies. They were cattle. To be jsed for testing and creating a weapon capable of tearing down armies. There was no love given to them, so they grew up without it.
The first test group was a failure. Too violent for their own good and were put down. The second, well, the second went the same way, but took out some scientists with them. The Infamous Doctor Icarus refused to stop, creating a third group. To the ones doing well, he cherished, gave them treats. Let them outside the lab to see the sun. Unlike the other humans, Primus Sapiens could handle the intense gravity of Zencrux with ease. With it's double moons and blue star sun, the planet was lush with life... But the lab only knew death.
An accident saw Icarus killed. Some say it was sabotage, others say suicide, when he realized what he'd become. The project continued, only lead by an even more evil man... Doctor Eisenhower. He wanted weapons. So he turned these young teens into a fighting force. Primus are capable of many feats humans cannot do, being faster and stronger due to the environment they were created in, and the gene edits that were dome to them. Many had "damage" and were destroyed. They say that it was because some subjects developed mental illness and Eisenhower wouldn't tolerate it.
There were a few that stood out among the rest. Subject 233, 257, 859, 860, and 1000. These five formed a close bond. When put together, they excelled in everything. Eisenhower took them and did separate tests, to see if he could do his next step: Integrate them with technology.
But it wouldn't happen. The Federation had gotten word of the project and swarmed in force with their own gene-mods, the Giantis. These humans were titans of flesh and used powerful mechs. They took control of the base and started to looknthrough the files, only to find them wiped. Eisenhower was taken in along with the other scientists and the subjects were assimilated into the military for a while. Most stayed, sekingb the thrill, but one notably broke off and decided that he wanted none of it. He took on the name Zavid Nightblade, Subject 1000.
Zavid was part of a cancelled Icarus Project. He and his kin were genetically modified at birth to be stronger, faster and smarter. Which was the goal... What they got was warriors who lived off rage and fought so much that death was a large part of the program. Following a raid by the government the project was shit down. Only a few of the subjects remain, most having to be put down for how volatile they were. Zavid was noted as one of the few successes... out of nearly a thousand subjects.
The subjects who were deemed safe were assimilated into the military. They became known for their strengths... and feared for their fits of berserker rage. The hundred or so who were left have been slowly dwindling, until only a few remained. Zavid relates to these last ones as his family, a thought shared by them all.
After a year or so of wandering, Zavid met a man who called himself Shinzo Shida, who offered him a job as a tester for his inventions. It worked out so well the pair became friends and Shinzo would get him tech to do bounty hunting and escort jobs. Currently, Shida is looking for new materials for weapons and armor, as he is the name in all advanced tech.
After a few years of bounty hunting, Zavid met Brant Quentin a man who he met after... A long night of drinking. The two stayed in touch, went on a few dates and then decided to stick together... Despite Brant being an officer in the UNFC who is against bounty hunters.
Weapons/Supplies:
Zavid prefers to be as far from targets as possible, but is one of the best in close range. His weapons and armor are made by his closest friend, who's known for his top of the line gear under the pseudonym Shinzo.
Prototype HPGR: Custom made Sniper Rifle. High powered Laser weapon.
Centipede Exo Gear: Fits like a second skin, this further enhances his alread high strength and speed. Has a built in jetpack and active camouflage(works only when still).
Centepede WPT: A beta tech that enables a short FTL dash in almost any direction. Has a long power up time.
Centepede Visor: Detects all bands of the EM spectrum. Also has a active HUD for overall status, map and motion sensor.
High Frequency Communicator: Used to communicate with Shinzo and Brant. The former as it is the only direct line to him, no one besides Brant has this. For Brant, it's how they communicate, as they are often far apart.
Lux: A rechargeable energy broadsword Can be used even when powered off like a regular blade. Blade is a meter long and made of a special alloy.
Misc:
Zavid is from Zencrux, a planet with extreme gravity. He has denser bones and higher strength than normal humans. Zencrux' gravity is 26.48 m/s2. Brandt has a six year old son, Leon who lives with his parents on Earth. |
8,653 | 241 | 0 | 2,694 | 54 | Meghan Johnson
The thud of her own feet hitting the ground was the only thing keeping Meghan company. Sometimes she would walk in a certain way so it would sound different, or play games with herself where she made sure to only step on certain things or cracks in the sidewalk. It kept her busy and stopped her from being bored senseless sometimes, but it never lasted very long. The sun was at it's peak in the sky and its rays were beaming down between the huge apartment buildings on either side of her onto Meghan's fair skin. If she had too guess she would say it was just past midday, the perfect time of the day. The sun being at it's height deterred some of the infected, forcing them into buildings or underground subway stations. She just had to be quiet enough to not draw any attention to herself and sometimes she could go a whole day without any incidents.Sometimes.
She winced as she heard her stomach groan. She hadn't eaten today, and all she had yesterday was a couple of snack bars she found on the floor in the street. Meghan pulled her bag over her shoulder, stopping in her tracks as she unzipped it and began digging around for something. A few seconds later she pulled out a tin of beans and a knife, jamming the knife in and twisting it until she could rip the lid open. She put the knife back and closed the bag, and immediately began using her fingers to scoop out the cold baked beans, eating them like it was the nicest meal she had ever eaten.
It took her about five minutes to walk to the other end of the block through the alley, walking in between huge buildings full of apartments. Just as she got there she finished the beans, throwing the empty can too her side. She climbed on a bin next too a fire escape and jumped off of it, grabbing the drop down ladder and pulling it down with her as she fell. She smiled to herself as she climbed up, stopping once she was up there to pull it back up. She walked over to the closest window and jammed her fingers under it as she had left it open just a crack, and pushed it all the way up.
Meghan didn't close it once she climbed through and stood on the other side. Instead she threw her bag over her shoulders once again and dropped it on the floor. It was a small apartment, the right half of the room was what used to be the living area, with a couch, an armchair and a TV. On the left there was a kitchen on the far side and closer too her on the left was two doors that lead to a bathroom and a bedroom. The front door which was opposite her was boarded shut with a small cabinet placed in front of it. It was dimly lit by natural light coming through the windows near the living area, with pillows and other things messily scattered about the floor and a dead fire sat in the middle of the room.
She sighed deeply to herself as she knelt down, pulling out a long rope and a scalpel out of her bag and walking over to the couch. Laying on the couch was a man snoring louder than she had ever heard anybody snore. He looked to be middle aged, underweight, with scraggy hair and a long face. He was laying on his back with nothing but a pair of boxer shorts on and some cloth stuffed in his mouth. Crimson red blood and cuts covered his body and there was a nasty infected gash on his right thigh. His ankles and wrists were both tied with zip-ties to keep his hands off her and stop him from fighting back. She couldn't help but smile to herself as she admired her handy work, remembering the night and how much joy it had brought her. She reached down, lifting his head and placing one end of the rope underneath and grabbing the other end.
She tied a noose around the mans neck and tightened it. The man must have been exhausted, because as she tied the noose around his neck and moved his head around to do it he didn't wake up or deviate from his usual snoring at all. She chuckled too herself as she noticed the bean juice had rubbed off on him, and quickly wiped the rest of it off onto the couch. Without a second thought, she took the scalpel and quickly stabbed it straight into his shoulder. "Wake up!" She said, though she didn't sound sinister enough as she twisted the scalpel inside his shoulder.
The main jolted awake with a muffled cry of pain, his eyes examining his surroundings as his breathing quickened. Blood started dripping out of the wound as she pulled the scalpel back out, smiling down at the man. "Good morning!" she said, looking down at him. "Now, I need you to do something very important for me. Stand up and walk over to the window". The man shook his head, saying something that was muffled by his gag. Meghan's smile suddenly faded.
She didn't turn away from the man, but began walking backwards towards her bag, keeping her eyes locked on him the entire time. She crouched down, reaching into the bag and taking out her rifle. She raised it, aiming it straight at him. "Move". She said simply, now sounding a bit more annoyed. The fatigued man slowly stood up, now nodding quickly, and started shuffling towards the window. She laughed as he did, looking down to see the zip-ties she had made his friend put on him before she killed him. Pathetic.
By the time he had gotten to the window and stopped, she had managed to walk over to the other side of the room and tie the other end of the rope to a study, strong looking metal pipe that was on their side of the wall, all the while making sure he didn't try anything, keeping her gun next too her. She tugged it hard, making sure it wouldn't break, before slowly walking up behind the man and using all her might to shove him through the still open window. Meghan heard him make a thud as he landed and climbed through after, just as the man had begun pulling himself back up. By this point tears were streaming down his face and he was talking constantly, but she couldn't understand what he was saying. She didn't care. She grabbed one of his cut covered arms and lifted him the rest of the way, shoving him towards the edge with a gun pressed against his back.
Meghan pressed the gun further into his back as he turned around to look at her. "Did I say you could look at me? Did I fucking say you could look in my direction?". He immediately turned around. "Good. Your learning". She sighed, knowing it meant nothing. The man did as he was told, though his please only got louder, and he cried more and more. Some of his cuts had reopened from his movement and were bleeding again. She ignored his cries, instead reaching up too run a soft finger over one of the cuts, admiring her work. She laughed softly and for a moment just stood there, looking.
No more than a minute later, without warning, Meghan used all of her strength to push him over the edge. She peered over, watching closely as he fell, then stopped and started swinging. She could hear him choking. Oh the sweet sweet sounds off suffering, of death.
She stayed in the apartment for another hour, collecting anything useful, cutting the rope once he was dead and putting it back in her bag. She left, climbing down the ladder and walking past his body without a care as she turned out of the alley and started walking down the sidewalk of a deserted street, off to wherever she would settle down next. | Name: Meghan Johnson
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Nationality: American
Sexuality: Bi-sexual
Appearance:
Family: Mother - Dead
Father - Unknown
Past occupation: Receptionist at a hotel.
Personality: Meghan, to put it simply, is a sadistic bitch. She enjoys watching people squirm or listen to them scream in terror, just as much as she likes causing it herself. She looks out for number one, and if somebody is getting in they way of her reaching her goals then they aren't going to be around if she can help it. Despite this, get on her good side and you've got yourself a fiercely loyal ally until you piss her off. She'll often crack a joke at the wrong time and doesn't really find herself concerned with the emotions of those she doesn't care about.
Background: Meghan grew up in Charleston, South Carolina with an alcoholic father and a mother who was so scared of being alone she would rather see her child abused than leave her marriage. Despite this, she loved her mother very much and often tried to step in when her father went on one of his usual alcohol induced rages, staying loyal to her mother even though she had every opportunity to leave and make Meghan's life so much better.
Around the age of 13, Meghan found an injured squirrel in her back garden. She toyed around with it, throwing it against things and breaking its limbs before finally killing it. She felt guilty, and decided she would never do anything like that ever again. A year later, after a particularly bad day, she took the family dog on a walk into a woods near her home and broke its legs, before torturing it for three days. The dog was deemed missing by her parents after she told them it had run away when she let it off the leash, and they didn't bother looking for it. This incident sparked a deadly curiosity within Meghan, which would see her finding and hurting animals constantly for years.
At the age of 18, Meghan's father accidentally killed her mother in a fit of drunken rage. He was arrested and sentenced for murder, and so with nothing keeping her at home, she moved to New York and took a job as a receptionist at a hotel. She lived here for the next six years, living out her sick fantasies on poor, unlucky animals she caught. She longed to hurt a person though, a real, living, breathing person.
And then the apocalypse happened. It was like a miracle for her. The world was her playground. For the first couple of months she would befriend and betray everyone she met, living out her sick fantasies on real people for the first time. But, after these initial couple of months, she realised she did need some help if she was going to survive, so she would only hurt people who deserved it, and there is no shortage of that in the apocalypse.
What's in their bag: Rope, matches, 2 one litre bottles of water, some cans of food, a change of clothes, a scalpel, a torch, two sets of batteries, two old newspapers, a blanket.
Weapons: Hunting rifle (7 rounds), 9 inch hunting knife.
Other: |
8,654 | 241 | 1 | 1,430 | 796 | Nina, having just finished counting out her few supplies, sighed. She wouldn't be able to hide here for long, she was running out of drinking water and the poorly kept soil of the office plants she had removed from their pots was no longer viable, she had sucked out what little nutrients the soil had contained to grow a small supply of food, but that wouldn't last long either. It was time to gather what little bit of supplies she could find in this office building and vacate the premises. Hell, best to vacate the whole damn city. If her father and Fiancé were still alive they more than likely would have left by now. Something she wasn't strong enough to do on her own. She would have to hope she found someone willing to help her before to long, otherwise she would never make it. Lucky for her she had a skill and knowledge she could trade for protection. She knew how to get and keep a steady supply of food, after all, potatoes would grow practically anywhere with the write knowledge, and she knew which mushrooms were edible or not.
Nina spent the better part of the early morning scavenging around the office floor she already knew was abandoned. While looking she managed to find another knife, several empty water bottles, some matches, a lighter, a flashlight, an umbrella, a couple empty Tupperware containers, a parachord bracelet, duck-tape, a fire axe (which she would more than likely not be able to swing around effectively to protect herself) which she strapped to her backpack, and some hair ties. Nothing of huge importance and unfortunately no ammo for the lone pistol she had found. Getting craft she used the duck tape to secure one of her knives to the already pointed, metal end of the umbrella, at the very least she may be able to protect herself a little. The axe would likely only be used by whoever she managed to find, if she even found another person before she died or turned.
Nina opened the window where the fire escape was located and climbed to the very top of the building. She scanned the city. "Okay Nina, how the hay are you going to get yourself out of here without drawing the attention of those...things?" She asked herself, she refused to call them dead people, if she thought of them as people still it would only be harder for her to kill one. "Looks you have I've got three options. The rooftops, the roads, or the subway/sewers." She would never be able to lift a manhole cover to get into the sewers and she was sure the subway system was infested with, she didn't even know what to call them. There was no clear path if she took the roads, she would never know what was coming around the next corner if she stayed on the ground. Logically that left the rooftops, unfortunately she wouldn't be able to stay on the rooftops forever, there would come a time where she would have to get down. She sighed. She would come to that when she got to it she supposed. Now that she had a plan she had to figure out how to execute it. She would never be able to jump from roof to roof, she would have to walk across somehow. Looking around at first she saw no way to get across but eventually she spotted it. A board, about a yard wide and about five yards long. It would do for now, she would have to be careful not to drop it.
It was a slow and painful process that took several hours to complete but eventually she had gotten to the point where he board was no longer of use to her. It was at this point that she took a break. Taking a much needed gulp from one of her water bottles she scanned the area. She had no clue where she was trying to get to but she was definitely trying to get out of the city. Maybe find a safe place, if there was one, and survive as long as she possibly could. It would be a bonus if she found either her father or her fiancé, preferably both, but she didn't want to get her hopes up that they were still alive out there. It would only crush her more, when and if she saw either one of them turned into the man eating creatures that had taken over the planet. After her short break Nina, carefully and quietly, climbed down the fire escape of the building and headed down the ally to the street, where she carefully peeked around the corner before exiting and heading on her way, always on high alert. | Name: Nina Ann Tucker
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Nationality: American
Sexuality: Straight
Nina stands and a whopping 5 feet 10 inches and weighs about 145 pounds.
Family: Mother- Deceased/infected
Younger Brother and sister (twins)- Deceased/infected
Father- Unknown
Fiance- Unknown
Past occupation: Botanist
Personality: Nina is a pacifist, she hates the though of violence however she is not stupid, she knows not all things can be solved with words, especially in the face of the walking dead where the only goal is to kill and eat. She will avoid harming another being if at all possible. She is an intelligent person, often being able to problem solve in a matter of minutes. She is also a kind person, giving people her trust until they prove they do not deserve it. This however can make her a little naive when it comes to the intentions of other people.
Background: Nina grew up in New York, she knows the city like the back of her hand. Her mother owned a bakery and her father was a mechanic. Her twin siblings were four years younger. She was an intelligent child, skipping two grades in her early years and graduating on the top 10 percent of her class. She always had a fascination for plant life, often being seen in the library, reading books about various plants, in her small garden at home, or in Central Park drawing or examining the plants there. It was only natural for her to go to college to get herself a botany degree. She was a full time student with a weekend job, and she lived with her parents while she was going to school. It was while she was schooling that she met her boyfriend and later fiancé.
When she graduated she managed to get herself a small job working at a local green house. It wasn’t much but it was enough to start her off, she wanted to move up to become a researcher, coming up with natural medicines to help people. It was while she was at work that the infection spread out of control. In an attempt to make sure her family was safe she rushed home, only to fine blood covering many of the surfaces. Her mother and siblings had somehow been infected. Her father was nowhere to be found and he hadn’t answered her calls. The same was true for her fiancé. Not knowing where do go she somehow made her way downtown after gathering some supplies and holed herself up in an office building that had luckily been abandoned. It was her that she has managed to survive. Living off of potatoes, mushrooms and beans, some of the faster growing and more protein rich plants. However she is running out of supplies and drinkable water. She will have to venture out eventually.
What's in their bag: Currently just some spare clothes and a pocket knife.
Weapons: A pocket knife and a gun she found in one of the desks in the office (no ammo)
Other: |
8,655 | 241 | 2 | 189 | 177 | Two days. Alex muttered to himself. "Two days I trek across this God forsaken state to get here and what's the first thing I find? My brother, a group of friendly survivors, hell, a damn dog? No, of course not," He continued to talk to himself as he watched the infected in the reflection of the knife strapped to his rifle. "A fucking infected is the first thing I run into after two damn days!" He let out a small sigh as he brought his rifle back down and slumped against the fence separating them. "Two days. Hell, I'm surprised my luck lasted as long as it did." His stomach growled softly and he looked around the area again.
He was hiding in an alley between two rows of brownstone houses with their back doors facing each other. From what he could see nearly all the houses had been looted, or attacked. Broken glass filling windows and doors left open showed the ones that had been looted for all their worth. Others had no glass in the frames at all and door hanging from hinges, no doubt busted and torn as the infected swarmed whoever had been inside. Most of the back doors were cordoned off by small brick walls about waist high separating small patio areas off from each other leaving a walkway just large enough for two people to walk shoulder to shoulder down. A few of the walls had iron bars on top of the brick walls but as far as he could see along this stretch the house behind him and one other had full taller fences separating them from the others.
The one Alex was at the wall was made of brick just a little over five foot high. The other fence was a simple wooden fence, or at least it was at one point, as someone, or more likely something, had crashed through the wood leaving gaping holes along it. As far as he could tell this one house was the only one that hadn't been looted, and now he knew why. He sighed again and rested his head against the wall to stare up at the sky as he heard the infected on the other side continue to shuffle in the fenced off area, every now and again he'd hear a scraping of metal against concrete as the infected bumped against the overturned chairs or table inside with it.
"Two damned days." He muttered again as he let his head loll from side to side taking in the area around the brownstones. To his right, probably at least five blocks away, he could see what looked like apartment building rising into the sky. He assumed they were apartment buildings at least because he could see that fire escapes were crawling up some of the sides he could see. Off to his left looked like office building probably just as far away as the apartment building, maybe even farther. His stomach growled again, a little louder now but still not loud enough for the infected to hear over its own shuffling steps. He leaned his rifle beside him and placed his head in his hands to try and think. "I can always leave this building," His voice was muffled even more at he muttered into his hands, "I could move and search the apartment buildings." He shook head no. "No, no they'd probably be just as looted or destroyed as these homes here. And those that aren't may be boarded from the inside hiding a few survivors, or god forbid, a few infected. And that's just what I need, to be trapped in a small room with one of more of those things."
He brought his head away from his hands to look over to his left at the assumed office buildings. "They may not have as much stuff to loot, but they may not be as bad off as the apartment buildings. Break rooms and water coolers may still hold some food and water at least. I could probably scrounge something useful from any supply closets. May be able to even barricade a room or two, may block off a floor to hole up in for a bit." He vigorously shook his head. "No, gotta stay on the move, can't stay in one place to long as long as I'm out here alone. And any buildings that large I'd definitely need to know the layout for all possible exits before I even tried to hole up in one. My best bet is still this place for the night." He leaned his head back against the wall to stare up at the house taunting him from the other side of the wall. "I'm just gonna have to take a risk and kill the damned thing."
He looked away from the house to the fence's door to his right. It looked like it had originally been an iron barred gate but whoever had lived in the house had done a little work to it, filling in the spaces between each bar with thick pieces of wood and then a strip of iron banding across the top and bottom. It's a decent, solid door. Good enough to keep one infected within it's confines at least. Alex thought to himself, possibly the first time all day that he hadn't voiced his opinions aloud. I don't wanna open the door though that's for sure. I want to be able to keep both hands free in case that thing somehow surprises me. He turned around to assess the wall for his plan. If I can make just enough noise I can get that fucker on the other side to climb over. That'll be my best bet. As soon as I see it's head I can run him through with the knife on my rifle. Dispose of the body afterwards and then I can search to my heart's content.
Happy with his plan a small smile formed on his lips. "No time like the present." He said as he gripped his rifle again in both hands and whistled softly. On the other side of the wall he could hear the infected stop in it's tracks at the new sound. He could only imagine that it began to crouch like he had seen some do before, reminding him of predators on the hunt, as a soft growl was the only answer to his whistle. It was waiting, listening for the sound again, it's cue to begin the hunt of it's newfound prey. Again, Alex let out a soft whistle and on the other side of the wall a louder snarl escaped from the infected as it's former shuffling steps picked up into a run. In his planning the thing must have wandered closer to the brownstone's back door giving Alex a few seconds to ready himself, but a few seconds was all that he needed.
On the other side he could hear the infected scrape against the brick wall, flesh on rough stone, the sound of it sent a chill up his spine similar to how nails on a chalkboard would, but he couldn't let that bother him now. Hands appeared at the top of wall and he could hear it's booted feet scraping against the bricks as it began to pull itself over the top. As it's head appeared and it's eyes locked onto Alex it opened it's mouth to snarl, but before it could Alex thrust with the rifle planting the knife to the hilt right between the infected's eyes. "Good riddance." He said as he pulled the rifle back letting the infected fall back inside the wall with a dull thud as his smile broadened. "Time to clean the place up now and grab some grub." | Name: Alexander "Alex" Pearce
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Nationality: American
Sexuality: Straight
I couldn't help but use Negan for a zombie apocalypse RP.
Family:
Mother-Deceased (Pre-infection)
Father-Deceased (Pre-infection)
Uncle-Unknown
Aunt-Unknown
Younger Brother-Unknown
Past occupation: Forest Ranger
Personality: Alex is a friendly person, often going out of his way to try and help others. The beginning of the infection's spread did little to sway him from his usual self, but over the last few months he has become more distant, often spending much of his time by himself. He has developed a slight tendency to talk to himself after spending a great deal of time alone, although he doesn't seem to notice it himself.
Background: Alex was born in the southeastern part of Texas to a pair of farmers that lived in a small town in the woods. With larger town being miles away Alex spent a good deal of his youth with his friends exploring the woods that surrounded his hometown, often spending hours at a time with his friends just exploring and playing in the woods. As he got older he would spend more time with his father in the woods, learning to hunt and track animals. The two of them often spending entire weekends together exploring.
Wake up. Go to school. Come home. The woods. That was his life for years, so much so that he felt the woods had practically became his home. He spent any chance he had there, and anytime something upset him the woods would become his escape. At 14, both of his parents were killed in a terrible car accident and he and his younger brother were sent to live with their uncle, a rancher in Montana. The only problem with that was that he lost his escape. Over the next few months Alex was constantly depressed, but he continued to put on a brave face for his younger brother. A brave face had little effect on his uncle, however.
His uncle had finally had enough and he and Alex took a trip one weekend to the Flathead National Forest. It was the first time in a long time that Alex had been happy, feeling that he was finally able to escape all the things that he had been running from out there in the woods. After that those excursions with his uncle became regular trips and over time he became his old self again.
At 18, Alex decided that he would become a forest ranger and began volunteering as often as he could, and attending school the rest of the time. After four years of hard work he had officially became a forest ranger and he continued to spend his time in the woods, the only difference now he was being paid to do something he had done for years.
At 26, Alex moved to Phoenicia, NY to oversee the Sundown Wild Forest near there. Over the next 5 years he oversaw the construction of new ranger stations throughout the forest, and when rumors and news of what was happening in Texas he did what he knew best how to. Retreat into the woods. Over the coming months as the infection spread throughout the country Alex stayed within the confines of his woods along with many of the other forest rangers and hunters of the area that had the same idea.
Early on things were fine. They used the ranger stations and hunting cabins around the forest as outposts, keeping in touch with the radios in the stations. The infected were few and far between and the survivors were able to dispatch them easily enough, as time went on more and more were attracted to the sound of the hunter's gunfire and that's when they began losing people. The outposts near the edge fell first, pushing the survivors further in, but it wasn't long before the infected were on them as well.
The other's didn't seem to notice the pattern that the infected were always drawn to the sound of gunfire first, but once Alex realized he told the others. Many thought him foolish for believing it, but the next attack proved that he was correct as the infected were drawn once more to the sound. While the others panicked he took the chance to escape, for the first time leaving the interior of the woods and heading to the exterior to escape, stopping at the old, overrun ranger stations and hunting cabins to gather supplies. The infected were few and far between once again as they were drawn away to whatever sounds they could follow giving him little resistance on the way out.
What's in their bag: Alex carries a sling style hunting bag he found in one of the first hunting cabins he searched. In it he has two sets of spare clothes and a second jacket, 3 MREs and a full canteen of water, and a pair of long range radios he kept from the ranger stations, leaving much of the rest of the pack empty in case he finds anything of use while scavenging. On his right thigh he has a tactical thigh rig that he keeps a pistol he found holstered and any extra ammunition he finds.
Weapons: During his scavenging Alex has found a Mossberg Patriot rifle, with only 3 .308 caliber rounds available. A 6 inch hunting knife that he attached to the end of the rifle to form a makeshift bayonet. A Glock 20 that uses 10mm ammunition with only 6 rounds left in the only magazine he could find for it. A bolo style machete that has become his main way of dealing with any infected that he comes across.
Other: His younger brother was a member of the National Guard that was called in during the infection's beginning. He has not had any word from him and does not know if he is alive or not. |
8,656 | 241 | 3 | 2,475 | 101 | Ladder 25 Fire Station - Manhattan - 6 months ago
Sam had always been a fan of horror movies, especially the ones revolving around zombies or other post-apocalyptic settings. When she first saw one run after her, who had the face of a familiar co-worker, Sam thought he was pranking her. He knew she was a die-hard Resident Evil fan and she thought he was playing the part, you know.
As she held him at arm's length Sam had laughed and asked him where he had gotten that wake-up done. However, it was through his empty and glossy eyes that she noticed it wasn't just a prank - not to mention the way he had fought her relentlessly like he didn't feel the burn in his muscles added to her suspicions. Mere seconds later, undead flooded the station and her world was thrown into full panic. Not having the heart to kill her friend, Sam flipped him on the ground and ran for the nearest weapon : a fire axe.
The rest of the firefighters and her had attempted to use fire extinguishers like smoke grenades but it didn't seem to work as planned; the undead found them regardless. After numerous attempts at beheading, the few who survived sealed off the station and effectively locked themselves inside for four months until all their found and water supply had were exhausted.
They attempted to plan an evacuation of the station, but as Manhattan was a busy district a lot of undead had been attracted outside of their doors. Not many had survived their first venture outside after the outbreak, and Sam wasn't sure if anyone but her had actually made it out alive.
Convenience store - 228 Varric Street
Sam moved from place to place for the last two months, scavenging for daily necessities as well as useful items. It was lonely, and far more somber than what she thought it would be. If she came across other survivors she helped them, but they always ended up going off on their own or doing something reckless that got them killed, which made her wonder if the living had any common sense left at all.
Today, however, the sun was out and she decided it was the best time to go and scavenge another place to live as she had exhausted this corner's stores supply of twinkies and canned chili. Stealthily, she made her way through the deserted streets with her axe clasped in both hands. She moved from building to building not really knowing where was was going, unfamiliar with this neighborhood. She rounded the corner of a building when she spotted a tall and lanky woman emerging from an alley, and into the streets near Sam.
A little unsure, Sam weighed out her options. From afar, the woman didn't seem hostile and she didn't seem to be traveling with a group so that was a plus. What did she have to lose? In a world where it wasn't commonplace to come across other human beings it was a privilege to see smiling faces. Besides, Sam was tired to laugh at her own jokes.
So, taking a chance, Sam placed her thumb and index under her tongue and whistled once, ready to wave at the tall woman if she caught her attention. | Name: Samira 'Sam' Darzi
Age: 31
Gender: Female
Nationality: Iranian
Sexuality: Gay af
Family: deceased
Past occupation: Firefighter
Personality: Sam is a charismatic, outspoken extrovert. She loves making people laugh and is comfortable in a crowd, though, sometimes she has trouble being serious when a situation calls for it. She loves helping others and would gladly give her life for another (she climbed a tree without a ladder and no safety equipment to save a cat once - true story). She especially loves animals and probably holds them on a higher pedestal than humans themselves. She's straightforward and transparent with others and expects everyone to be with her as well.
Background: Sam was born to a Pakistan mother and an Iranian father and grew up in Fars' capital city, the beautifully rustic Chiraz. At 7, Samira already knew she wanted to join the Iranian forces, being a very energetic child; physical activity was like second nature to her.
Though, that dream quickly slipped between her fingers once her parents announced their departure to the united states. Her father was a recognized and respected business man who landed a big deal in the automotive industry. They moved to the streets of New York city when Sam was 11 years old. Her father had thought her English at a young age, so adapting to using it on a daily basis wasn't much of hassle. What the young girl had trouble with was the change of scenery and the culture: the loud and busy streets, the buildings that almost seemed to reach the sky. She felt trapped in a cage. Sam eventually settled in, but much preferred nature this concrete jungle.
At 18, Sam received her American citizenship and applied not a day later in the U.S military. Her request was denied, however, as strict laws barred american dual-citizens from entering their ranks. Discouraged, the woman dropped out of school and worked as delivery-woman for a Chinese restaurant in Manhattan. She barely scraped by, living with the bare essentials and drowning her hate of the American government with various illicit substances.
By the age of 21, Sam was at the bottom of the barrel fighting a cocaine addiction in her musty one room appartment. Her father, ashamed of what she had become and ashamed he hadn't done something sooner made her a deal she couldn't quite refuse: he would sent her to rehab for three months and then send her to the college of her choice, in the program of her choice. One failing grade, however, and he would pull his funds.
By God's grace, Sam came out of rehab a changed person - in reality, she became the person she was meant to be. She chose to enroll in the John Jay College of Criminal Justice and successfully obtained her Fire Science Degree after four long years of hard, non-stop work.
She built close relationships with her co-workers of Ladder 25 situated in Manhattan and worked at this fire station for six years. One the outbreak hit, she and her fellow firefighters held up in the station for quite a while. When food had become scarce enough that they had to ration one meal a day, they decided they needed to plan supply runs around the city. But because they haven't gone out in such a long time, all the noise they had made attracted a horde of undead around the firehouse. The group quickly got overwhelmed on their first adventure outside and Sam was the only one fortunate enough to survive.
She's now roaming the desolate streets alone, relying only on herself and her trusty fire axe.
What's in their bag: Sam possesses a sling backpack. She has a lighter, a water bottle, a few cans of food, paracord and a simple medi-kit.
Weapons: Fire axe
Other: Hates bugs |
8,657 | 241 | 4 | 1,430 | 796 | Nina hadn't made it but a few steps out of the alleyway before she heard a noise that spooked her. Spinning around with her umbrella spear in hand she was prepared to face off with one of the things she had hopped not to come across. However she wasn't met with a bloody faced, snarling, thing running at her but rather another person a little ways down the street who waved to her when she caught Nina's attention. She was still cautious however. The end of the world no doubt allowed the psychos to go absolutely nuts and she was sure there were plenty of prison breakouts from the start to now. She wasn't sure who she could trust. It wasn't like she was strong enough to defend herself well. She studied plants for a living for pete's sake.
After a moment or two of staring she waved awkwardly back at the person but made no attempt to walk toward her. Rather she examined the woman from afar. She seemed fit, and maybe a little shorter than herself. Nina was abnormally tall for a woman, she had gotten that from her father, most other women were shorter than herself. She was glad to see another living person as it had been months since she had anybody to keep her company. She had holed herself up in that office building since the start and had managed to not need to leave until now. She didn't want to make to much noise in fear of being heard by something she would rather not deal with, so she made no effort to say hello or tell the other woman to come to her. This exchange would likely go a few ways. One, the woman would attack her and steal her stuff the moment she got close enough. Two, they would exchange a few words and head there separate ways. Three, they would end up grouping together, which would be the preferred course of actions but there was no telling if the woman would ditch her later on. She would just have to give the other woman her trust until it was proven she didn't deserve it. | Name: Nina Ann Tucker
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Nationality: American
Sexuality: Straight
Nina stands and a whopping 5 feet 10 inches and weighs about 145 pounds.
Family: Mother- Deceased/infected
Younger Brother and sister (twins)- Deceased/infected
Father- Unknown
Fiance- Unknown
Past occupation: Botanist
Personality: Nina is a pacifist, she hates the though of violence however she is not stupid, she knows not all things can be solved with words, especially in the face of the walking dead where the only goal is to kill and eat. She will avoid harming another being if at all possible. She is an intelligent person, often being able to problem solve in a matter of minutes. She is also a kind person, giving people her trust until they prove they do not deserve it. This however can make her a little naive when it comes to the intentions of other people.
Background: Nina grew up in New York, she knows the city like the back of her hand. Her mother owned a bakery and her father was a mechanic. Her twin siblings were four years younger. She was an intelligent child, skipping two grades in her early years and graduating on the top 10 percent of her class. She always had a fascination for plant life, often being seen in the library, reading books about various plants, in her small garden at home, or in Central Park drawing or examining the plants there. It was only natural for her to go to college to get herself a botany degree. She was a full time student with a weekend job, and she lived with her parents while she was going to school. It was while she was schooling that she met her boyfriend and later fiancé.
When she graduated she managed to get herself a small job working at a local green house. It wasn’t much but it was enough to start her off, she wanted to move up to become a researcher, coming up with natural medicines to help people. It was while she was at work that the infection spread out of control. In an attempt to make sure her family was safe she rushed home, only to fine blood covering many of the surfaces. Her mother and siblings had somehow been infected. Her father was nowhere to be found and he hadn’t answered her calls. The same was true for her fiancé. Not knowing where do go she somehow made her way downtown after gathering some supplies and holed herself up in an office building that had luckily been abandoned. It was her that she has managed to survive. Living off of potatoes, mushrooms and beans, some of the faster growing and more protein rich plants. However she is running out of supplies and drinkable water. She will have to venture out eventually.
What's in their bag: Currently just some spare clothes and a pocket knife.
Weapons: A pocket knife and a gun she found in one of the desks in the office (no ammo)
Other: |
8,658 | 241 | 5 | 1,501 | 301 | Nikolai
глава один (Chapter One)
Survivors aren't called that because they're easy to kill, especially those who survived the plague that wiped out most of the world's civilization. Small groups of people huddling in the upper floors of ruined apartment buildings could hardly be called civilization, but that's the best Nikolai had managed to find for the last couple of months. Most of the times he came into contact with these types of groups he was either attacked or simply told to go away. After months of surviving in the world of the infected, Nikolai managed to find three small havens hiding out in New York City.
Up until the apocalypse, people hadn't really thought of Nikolai as strange. As he stood in the blood soaked hallway entrance of one of the havens, the music playing in his headphones kept his adrenaline in check while he finished off the third infected to rush him. He let out a small sigh through gently smiling lips as he peeled his mace out of yet another partially collapsed skull. He could just barely hear the thumping of the final infected footsteps as it came up through the chokepoint into his kill room.
When Nikolai found the havens, he hadn't been able to settle down like he thought. He knew people needed a messenger; someone capable of surviving the infected without needing luck all the time. He spent his time traveling between the havens and collecting resources from the abandoned city. One thing that always hurt him deep down was walking past a grocery store stocked to the brim with canned food while hunger gripped him. People had gone to them thinking there would be getting food, but ended up becoming food instead. He did his best for these people but they never really expected him to come back when he left.
Humans may be able to learn from the mistakes of others, but infected take a lot longer to pick up any new information so when the fourth infected finally reached him, Nikolai braced like always and waited. A moment later, a crash for one was a familiar shudder to the other and a hefty swing of his mace ended the infected as it lay on the floor at Nikolai's feet. Bleach and mops replaced bodies and blood as the haven's resident's helped him clean up the mess. He finished his delivery and left after only accepting a refill to his canteen.
The sunshine and clean air that rushed to meet his senses could have easily made Nikolai forget the apocalypse as he stepped out into the ruined streets of Old New York. | Name: Nikolai, full name (николай маршал)
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Nationality: Ukrainian
Sexuality: Irrelevant
Appearance:
Although young, signs of stress can clearly be seen on his face and scars from countless encounters with both humans and infected have left their marks on him. Wearing surplus military BDU and some assorted combat equipment has made him a target in the past but its saved him every time so far.
Family: Deceased (Pre-Infection)
Past occupation: Nikolai has never held a serious job before but has done plenty of oddjobs over the years.
Personality:
Before the outbreak, Nikolai was always seen as kind and at least somewhat outgoing. He always managed to have something to say about anything and was never afraid of being wrong. The outbreak did little to change his personality but has put a damper on his seemingly endless happiness.
Background:
When Nikolai was 17 years old, his parents were killed in a carjacking in Moscow. His parents were fairly rich and when they passed they left their fortunes to Nikolai. In their will, his parents told him to spend the money on experiences, on traveling the world and being the best person he could be. A year or so later most people would consider him to be an "extreme tourist". His first stop on the path was to the Chernobyl nuclear power plant in his home country. After the start of hostilities in Ukraine, Nikolai left to explore the world. He never stayed anywhere long and even with a fortune to pull from he still tried to get by with the minimum. Traveling alone left its mark on Nikolai having experienced crime in practically every city he visited. He spent a year in the United States before the outbreak began.
After the outbreak, Nikolai first managed to join a group of National Guardsmen that had abandoned their posts rather than be overrun. That group changed and dwindled until at the end of it all, Nikolai was standing alone on the outskirts of New York just hoping that there was someone still alive.
What's in their bag:
Nikolai wears a military plate carrier and kevlar helmet. Besides the empty magazines and various cleaning tools, he has a small pouch he stores the miniscule amount of food he has and he has a half full canteen in another pouch.
Weapons:
Although menacing at first glance, the Auto Kalashnikov he carries is barely functional after months of heavy use. He has 6 "dirty" rounds for it that probably won't even fire in the best situation. He carries a makeshift shield on his back and has a steel police baton he uses frequently.
Other: By miniscule I mean he has a small bag of assorted nuts and seeds. By dirty rounds I mean that they were made post outbreak and are unstable and unreliable. If they go off at all they might not have the power needed to penetrate the skull even as a 7.62x39 round. |
8,659 | 241 | 6 | 2,259 | 996 | Jason
Jason stood in the hallway of a supposedly empty office building tight against the alcove of a doorway, he wasn't nearly thin enough to be hidden but he hoped it helped. He listened carefully with his knuckle duster knife in his hand, for the quiet shuffling of the undisturbed infected. He listened for a dozen heartbeats before he heard one, a quiet thump of the infected walking into a desk or table. Jason tensed at the noise listening for an infected to hear the other, he wasn't sure that happened but it always made him nervous. There was nothing it seemed, so he gingerly stepped out from his hiding spot to find the infected. After a few moments searching it seemed that the infected was trapped in some office break room. Which was fine for his safety, but the vending machines were in there and they had snacks. Not as nutritious as his last couple MREs but had plenty of calories to keep him moving, not to mention the half full water jug in there. Jason carefully crept up on the door staying out of sight from the windows.
He knew he would have to kill the infected, which was a task in and of itself. He worked out a crude plan that would minimize chances of exposure and injury, but he still brought his blood flecked mask onto his face. Standing behind the windowless door he braced himself, without touching the door, putting his left leg and shoulder in the way to prevent the door from opening more than a few inches. he raised the knife in his right and and flicked the door handle, enough to unlatch and get the infected's attention. Jason braced clenching his teeth as the zombie roared at him and charged. A moment later it hit the door with the force of a small train sending a lance of pain through Jason's arm. It didn't knock him down, but the impact pushed him back a little. Just enough that the zombie could reach out and claw at him. His thick leather coat prevented the zombie from finding purchase but he could feel the hand rake across his torso. It was then that he realized that this infected was a small, thin, office worker but was pushing at the door with force that he would only think of as from a bodybuilder. That didnt matter now, he would ponder it later. He had hoped he could hold the door closed just enough to stab the zombie in the eye, he miscalculated their strength.. again. He stabbed at the face as it chomped repeatedly in his direction. The knife found the zombie's eye burying deep and easily destroying the brain, all the pressure against the door stopped at the zombie fell limp held in place by Jason's desperate pressing against the door.
Jason sighed "you bastards are strong" he said panting from the adrenaline as he backed off and pulled the door open discovering his prize. A vending machine with maybe a dozen packs of snack foods, and a water cooler with a few gallons of water left in it. His victory was cut short as he heard another roar from behind him, a little higher pitched than the last. A woman in what would have been very nice business attire were it not caked in gore and disheveled was at the top of the stairs he had come up not long before staring at him tensed like a predator ready to pounce. "Shiiit" Jason said, muffled by his mask and assumed a defensive posture. The zombie charge him, it seemed like it had the speed of a cheetah, but that was probably not entirely accurate. Jason charged too, hoping his momentum and weight would overpower the smaller zombie. They collided, Jason ramming his shoulder and arm into the zombie's sternum. Jason won the trade in blows knocking the infected to the ground, but Jason was dazed by the impact, a jolt of pain rocketing up his other arm. He didnt waste his moment though grinding his teeth through the pain and diving on the zombie. He jams his knee into the zombie's chest and begins stabbing at the zombie's head. After the fifth and sixth stab he noticed that it had stopped struggling. He stood panting and listening for more infected, after counting to 60 he still heard nothing so he went to claim his meager prize. a full canteen and full belly of water, a couple bags of chips a few cup of soups and a pack of knock off Twinkies. He simple stuffed the supplies in his bag to eat later while he moved off to find a secure office he could hole up in for the night that was still hours off. | Name: Jason
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Nationality: American
Appearance:
Family: Unknown, likely deceased/infected
Father
Mother
Sister
Past occupation: EMT - Basic (certified), Forensic Science Student
Personality: Jason is pretty laid back and casual in most situations, he is also generally very quiet taking some time before he gets comfortable enough to talk freely. He will still however make crude or dark jokes at inappropriate situations, but it is simply how he has been handling the end of the world. He would seem somewhat distant and cold on the surface, especially after the world ended, but he is actually quite caring about those he trusts. His studies in forensic science and emergency medicine has made him more psychologically prepared for the end of the world and seeing death and destruction has left less of a wound on his mentality than it otherwise would have. However he was still effected by the end of the world, in a survival situation he puts his own and his group's survival above the well being of others. he certainly tries to help the rest of humanity, but if he is starving and some other group wont share... well, he will take what he needs at gun point.
Background: Jason is actually a Colorado native having moved to NY not long before the collapse for an internship program at an NY lab. he had only been working for a few months when the first cases where moving out of Texas. Jason followed the story somewhat closely becoming increasingly worried as the problem moved north. He was already a little paranoid about the world ending due to war or some kind of disaster, Zombie apocalypse was just an amusing thought experiment from his high school days. So before the mass panic struck NY proper Jason went out and bought food, water, and a little bit of ammunition for his gun. It wasn't much and his supplies didn't last him very long, but he decided if he were to survive he would get creative.
A few weeks into the apocalypse, having spent most of the days inside trying to ride out the most chaotic part of the collapse, Jason left and tried to accumulate supplies that would make him more capable against the rage zombies. This was a dark time for all of humanity, and Jason was no better. He managed to get some gear together and a modest stash of food before deciding to move away from the city. The population density would make it a death trap once the horde of Zombies where done feeding on the survivors trapped within. During the first few months of the outbreak Jason had met up with a few other survivors, they where weak willed and obviously couldn't handle their new reality but the day came where their luck had ran out and Jason was stuck in a situation where they could not survive... but he could so he abandoned them. It weighs heavily on him, and he regrets their deaths but it also steeled his resolve to live. It is the world they live in now, survival of the fittest.
What's in their bag:
4 days of food
Steel canteen (nearly empty)
Life Straw (water filter)
extra clothes, mostly winter gear
looted body armor (police officer)
Paintball mask (to protect eyes and mouth from zombie blood)
two decks of paying cards
sun tzu's art of war
compass (no map)
Empty shotgun shell bandolier
Thick leather motorcycle jacket (damaged from zombies)
Thick leather gloves
simple surgical kit:
scalpels
surgical forceps (several different kinds)
suture needles (improvised with fishing line, miles left)
suture thread
tourniquet
bandages
small flask of rubbing alcohol (very little left)
nitrite and latex gloves
Weapons: Machete strapped to left hip and leg
large buck knife with knuckle guard strapped to right hip
12Ga shotgun (4 shells left)
Other: Im using this and an OOC note, I personally own 90% of this gear except for the bit of body armor, but i justify that because it would be somewhat easy to find especially in a large city like NY. |
8,660 | 241 | 7 | 2,475 | 101 | Sam was relieved the woman hadn't simply turned away and fully expected the wary look on her face. It was hard to judge someone's intentions by simply staring at them. Most people's body language was guarded and constantly on edge - the cost of six months of brutal survival in a world they can hardly recognize. It didn't mean they had to relinquish every ounce of their humanity, which was decidedly easier for some to do, Sam thought. That wasn't her, though, and she still believed human relations were important.
She rested her ax down on her shoulder as she approached the woman with a smile. Sam stopped just a few feet in front of the tall stranger and cocked her head sideways as she quickly examined her: no wounds - at least, no visible ones. Sam smirked when she spotted the long wooden handle and the sharp edge of the fire ax, Smart woman. She didn't seem worse for wear but certainly looked a tired from exertion. Though, who wasn't these days?
Sam took a confident step forward, "Come here often?" She chuckled and hoped it would dissolve some of the tension between the two strangers. She then offered the woman her hand. "I'm Sam. Ex-firefighter at your service," she informed with a wink
As cheesy introductions went this one was pretty high up there, but seriousness wasn't exactly Sam's strong suit. | Name: Samira 'Sam' Darzi
Age: 31
Gender: Female
Nationality: Iranian
Sexuality: Gay af
Family: deceased
Past occupation: Firefighter
Personality: Sam is a charismatic, outspoken extrovert. She loves making people laugh and is comfortable in a crowd, though, sometimes she has trouble being serious when a situation calls for it. She loves helping others and would gladly give her life for another (she climbed a tree without a ladder and no safety equipment to save a cat once - true story). She especially loves animals and probably holds them on a higher pedestal than humans themselves. She's straightforward and transparent with others and expects everyone to be with her as well.
Background: Sam was born to a Pakistan mother and an Iranian father and grew up in Fars' capital city, the beautifully rustic Chiraz. At 7, Samira already knew she wanted to join the Iranian forces, being a very energetic child; physical activity was like second nature to her.
Though, that dream quickly slipped between her fingers once her parents announced their departure to the united states. Her father was a recognized and respected business man who landed a big deal in the automotive industry. They moved to the streets of New York city when Sam was 11 years old. Her father had thought her English at a young age, so adapting to using it on a daily basis wasn't much of hassle. What the young girl had trouble with was the change of scenery and the culture: the loud and busy streets, the buildings that almost seemed to reach the sky. She felt trapped in a cage. Sam eventually settled in, but much preferred nature this concrete jungle.
At 18, Sam received her American citizenship and applied not a day later in the U.S military. Her request was denied, however, as strict laws barred american dual-citizens from entering their ranks. Discouraged, the woman dropped out of school and worked as delivery-woman for a Chinese restaurant in Manhattan. She barely scraped by, living with the bare essentials and drowning her hate of the American government with various illicit substances.
By the age of 21, Sam was at the bottom of the barrel fighting a cocaine addiction in her musty one room appartment. Her father, ashamed of what she had become and ashamed he hadn't done something sooner made her a deal she couldn't quite refuse: he would sent her to rehab for three months and then send her to the college of her choice, in the program of her choice. One failing grade, however, and he would pull his funds.
By God's grace, Sam came out of rehab a changed person - in reality, she became the person she was meant to be. She chose to enroll in the John Jay College of Criminal Justice and successfully obtained her Fire Science Degree after four long years of hard, non-stop work.
She built close relationships with her co-workers of Ladder 25 situated in Manhattan and worked at this fire station for six years. One the outbreak hit, she and her fellow firefighters held up in the station for quite a while. When food had become scarce enough that they had to ration one meal a day, they decided they needed to plan supply runs around the city. But because they haven't gone out in such a long time, all the noise they had made attracted a horde of undead around the firehouse. The group quickly got overwhelmed on their first adventure outside and Sam was the only one fortunate enough to survive.
She's now roaming the desolate streets alone, relying only on herself and her trusty fire axe.
What's in their bag: Sam possesses a sling backpack. She has a lighter, a water bottle, a few cans of food, paracord and a simple medi-kit.
Weapons: Fire axe
Other: Hates bugs |
8,661 | 241 | 8 | 1,430 | 796 | Nina watched to woman walk closer to her. She was wary but she did not move away. This stranger had given her no reason to not trust her yet. She examined the woman when she got closer. She was definitely shorter than herself but Nina had already figured as much. She seemed more worn down that Nina did, it made sense, not many people would have had the luxury of hiding out as long as she did. She had gotten lucky, something that she seemed to be doing a lot lately, save for the lack of ammunition for the gun she possessed. Not that she had the damnedest idea how to use the thing, she probably wouldn't be able to hit the side of a barn.
When she woman came to a stop a few feet from her she made the worst joke Nina had heard in a long time, not that it was that hard since she only had herself to joke with previously and Nina was convinced that she was hilarious, even though it probably wasn't the case. "Ha, used to before the world decided to end." She remarked in response to the lame comment. The shorter woman introduced herself as Sam, an ex-firefighter and extended her hand toward Nina. "Nina, botanist, don't really think you can be an ex-botanist, once you know, you know, ya know." She chuckled at her stupid remark and took the woman's hand, shaking it firmly. She seemed nice enough, and she too carried a fire axe though she likely got more use out of the thing than Nina would out of hers. "You heading out of the city or?" She questioned, not finishing her sentence because she didn't know how to finish it. She pulled her hand away from the woman and began fiddling with the ring on her finger, the one her fiancé had given her. She hadn't taken it off in fear of losing it and had a habit of messing with it when she was nervous or on edge, and standing in the open like this was indeed putting her on edge, even if there were no signs of the man eaters or other people in general. | Name: Nina Ann Tucker
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Nationality: American
Sexuality: Straight
Nina stands and a whopping 5 feet 10 inches and weighs about 145 pounds.
Family: Mother- Deceased/infected
Younger Brother and sister (twins)- Deceased/infected
Father- Unknown
Fiance- Unknown
Past occupation: Botanist
Personality: Nina is a pacifist, she hates the though of violence however she is not stupid, she knows not all things can be solved with words, especially in the face of the walking dead where the only goal is to kill and eat. She will avoid harming another being if at all possible. She is an intelligent person, often being able to problem solve in a matter of minutes. She is also a kind person, giving people her trust until they prove they do not deserve it. This however can make her a little naive when it comes to the intentions of other people.
Background: Nina grew up in New York, she knows the city like the back of her hand. Her mother owned a bakery and her father was a mechanic. Her twin siblings were four years younger. She was an intelligent child, skipping two grades in her early years and graduating on the top 10 percent of her class. She always had a fascination for plant life, often being seen in the library, reading books about various plants, in her small garden at home, or in Central Park drawing or examining the plants there. It was only natural for her to go to college to get herself a botany degree. She was a full time student with a weekend job, and she lived with her parents while she was going to school. It was while she was schooling that she met her boyfriend and later fiancé.
When she graduated she managed to get herself a small job working at a local green house. It wasn’t much but it was enough to start her off, she wanted to move up to become a researcher, coming up with natural medicines to help people. It was while she was at work that the infection spread out of control. In an attempt to make sure her family was safe she rushed home, only to fine blood covering many of the surfaces. Her mother and siblings had somehow been infected. Her father was nowhere to be found and he hadn’t answered her calls. The same was true for her fiancé. Not knowing where do go she somehow made her way downtown after gathering some supplies and holed herself up in an office building that had luckily been abandoned. It was her that she has managed to survive. Living off of potatoes, mushrooms and beans, some of the faster growing and more protein rich plants. However she is running out of supplies and drinkable water. She will have to venture out eventually.
What's in their bag: Currently just some spare clothes and a pocket knife.
Weapons: A pocket knife and a gun she found in one of the desks in the office (no ammo)
Other: |
8,662 | 241 | 9 | 289 | 299 | Natalie Mansfield - Office Building
Natalie was sat down in the corner of an old, dirty apartment. Her back was against the wall and her knees were brought up to her chest, a backpack next too her on the floor with all of her possessions inside. The wallpaper was rotting and peeling of the walls. This place was obviously not kept well before the apocalypse, let alone after. Dirt masked what could have been a once nice looking pattern, and a nice looking floor. The room was nearly bare, had it not been for a couch against the wall where she had been sleeping and empty cans and bottles littering the floor. Natalie sighed as she ran a hand through her hair which also wasn't as clean as she would have liked, peering to her side an looking into her open bag.
"One bottle of water... some snack bars..." She said to herself as she rummaged through and took note of what she had left. Some spare clothes, some cigarettes. Some bullets that she didn't have a bloody gun for. She was coming to the realisation, no matter how much she didn't want too, that she couldn't just sit in this grimy apartment any more. She was quickly running out of food and water, and frankly having nobody to keep her company was starting to drive her insane. Venturing out would probably only solve one of these problems, but that was better than none. She reached too her side, grabbing the wall and pulling herself up before swinging her back onto her back. She held her machete in her hand and reluctantly left her hiding place.
She stepped out onto the street. The sun beamed down onto her. She looked around as she took a few more steps forward and examined the houses and shops on this street. Most had already been broken into. She turned and started walking down the road until she came too a huge office building. "Fucking hell". She said as she looked up at it. The front doors were wide open, but hardly any of the windows were smashed, and peering inside, it looked like all of the things inside had been chucked about and vandalised a little less than usual. She would try here first.
As she walked in, she pulled out a cigarette and some matches, lighting it in her mouth before putting the box and the matches back. The smoke hitting her throat was ironically like a breath of fresh air. One hand clenched her machete as she snuck around, crouching and moving as slow as possible as she moved so that she couldn't be detected, and the other held the cigarette. She moved from room to room, searching for anything useful. There was almost nothing.
She had almost given up on finding anything when all of a sudden she heard something on the floor above her. It sounded like somebody was trying to smash through a door. Natalie moved quickly to the stairs, and started climbing to the next floor. She got to the last flight of stairs and just as she turned the corner, she froze. It was one of them. A zombie was standing at the top of the stairs, staring into a room she couldn't see. Whatever she had heard, the zombie had too. Natalie froze and started holding her breath. She was not getting noticed by that thing. She must have been standing there for about half a minute, just staring at it, before it suddenly roared and ran off into the room she couldn't see. She started climbing the stairs, but stopped at the top and waited, not wanting to go in if the zombie had beaten whatever it had gone for. She would wait and see what came out.
A few minutes later, a man walked out and turned the other way, not seeing her as he walked. She gasped out loud. A person. Another actual living person. Natalie had to talk to him. She didn't want to go right up behind him, in fear of being mistaken for a dead person, but she didn't want to shout and attract actual dead ones. There really was no good way to surprise somebody these days. She moved a bit closer, but not too close, and spoke. "Hello..." She said. | Name: Natalie Mansfield
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Nationality: British
Sexuality: Bi-sexual
Family:
Mother - Unknown
Father - Unknown
Brother - Unknown
Sister - Unknown
Past occupation: Drama Student
Personality: Natalie is rather laid back. She tries to keep from most conflicts and hates to see splinters start to form between people she knows, but would rather sit back and relax than get involved in the petty fights and arguments. Although if she feels somebody has done something really wrong, then she will get involved. She doesn't hold much of a sharp posture. Natalie secretly feels very lonely. Sure, she had friends, but they weren't people she could really get on with or connect with. They were people for her to go out and cause trouble with, as she did for much of her life. Sure, she cared for them, and they cared for her, but they all knew that it wasn't going to last. She grew up lonely, causing trouble and searching for connections to fill the gaps. This sometimes causes her to get too involved into new friendships, and why she hates being alone, which ties in with her old party girl lifestyle. In the apocalypse, however, she would surely go insane if left on her own for too long.
Natalie is sensitive. She cares what people think, much more than you would guess if you had been around her for ten minutes. She hates being judged for who she is, where she's from or how she acts which is why she may seem either more reserved around new people (but this wont last too long), or try too seem more intimidating. However, the latter rarely works. Natalie is a victim of having an addictive personality. Once she tries something once and enjoys it, she will usually go out of her way too keep that thing in her life. Not even she knows if this is just her natural shitty personality, or if its a way too keep her happy and hide what lies deep below, buried below the nights out, drugs and cigarettes. She can be very dependent, and will use whatever she has to keep people around.
Background: Natalie grew up in East London on a council estate nicknamed 'Concrete city' because there wasn't a single brick house, just lots of tall concrete flats piled on top of each other. She moved here at the age of three, because her dad lost his job and both of her mothers part time jobs weren't paying enough to keep up with the bills of her much desired old suburban home. Concrete city was a mess, full of gangs, violence, drugs and alcohol and all of the things that you don't want your kids to be brought up around. Her parents were well aware, and tried as hard as they could too keep her away from all of it, and for her first eight years in the estate it worked.
She finished Primary school at Eleven, and started Secondary school after summer. This is when things seemed to quickly change for her. Natalie got involved with the 'popular' crowd. The troublemakers. First off it was nothing bad. She was just going out a little more. Then her grades started falling. She started staying out later, despite her parents wishes. Phone calls home from school became commonplace, because she was either there and misbehaving, or she wasn't there at all. Things carried on like this for the next couple of years, not getting worse, but not getting better.
Her and her friends started hanging out with the older girls on the estate by the time they were thirteen. She discovered alcohol and parties and wondered how on earth this had been missing from her life before. She saw the older girls smoking, and she wanted to be like them, so at the age of thirteen she picked up her first cigarette. At the age of fourteen she smoked weed for the first time. At fifteen she got an older boyfriend, and started going to even better, wilder parties.
She barely passed her GCSE's at sixteen, graduating secondary school with a pass in maths, english, music and drama. Everything else was failed. A month after she got her results, her father got a job offer from a company in America. Her parents saw this as a new start for their troubled daughter, and took the job straight away. But this was a new start that she didn't want. She moved too this new place, and instead of starting again, quitting the drugs, alcohol and fags, she just made new friends and did it with them.
Five months before her Eighteenth, Natalie passed out at a party. She got Alcohol poisoning (among other things), went to hospital, had her stomach pumped and was horribly ill for a week after. After this, she decided that enough was enough, and tried her hardest to stop her self-destructive lifestyle. Although she still went too parties now and then, she tried her hardest too keep her alcohol usage low. She still smoked, cigarettes and marijuana, but had effectively managed to cut out all other drugs from her life.
A natural talent in acting an a newfound interest in doing well managed to get her a place in an drama college in New York, where she would attend for the next two years until the outbreak. When the outbreak happened, she and her best friend managed to hold up in a small abandoned apartment above an old pizza shop. A month ago they went out for supplies, and were attacked by infected. Her friend was killed but she managed to escape and has been hiding on her own in the apartment ever since.
What's in their bag: A spare change of clothes and underwear, a machete, a flip knife, three boxes of cigarettes, one full two litre bottle of water and one nearly empty, a few snack bars and cans of food, matches, some marijuana and seven spare bullets (she does not know what kind or what gun they go with)
Weapons: Machete, flip knife.
Other: Excellent actor. |
8,663 | 241 | 10 | 2,259 | 996 | Jason - Office Building
Jason walked out from the offices, most of them where little more than cubicles that offered no real protection he needed a real office with a solid door. Most of those he found had broken windows or had a dried pool of blood in them, not a good place to sleep. He had examined the north section of the offices on this floor wich was thankfully uneventful and only took a couple of minutes, he had taken off his mask as it did obstruct his vision and was somewhat uncomfortable. he walked back crossing in front of the stairs, nerves still on high alert as they had been for about 6 months now. Maybe the south section of the office was in better shape but he doubted it.
He heard a noise from the stair well, initially he didnt register it as speech, he assumed it was one of the ghouls about to try and eat him. he whirled around drawing his knife in one motion. Natalie could see the genuine terror in his eyes as he prepared to fight for his life again. His muscles slowly relaxed as he realized he wasnt about to be attacked by the dead, but he knew he wasnt safe per-say. Several people had tried to rob him which is where most of his shotgun ammo had gone. It was then he finally processed that she had actually spoken to catch his attention. 'What was it she said? hello?' he thought to himself 'cant be too careful... people are just as dangerous as the ghouls.. she is pretty tho- no! safety first' She could see that he was processing the situation, scanning her, not in a lewd manner but as a threat assesment. She didnt seem terribly dangerous herself, she was definately smaller than he and probably a little younger she was lightly armed, no firearm which actually made him feel much safer.
"H-Hi" he said finally "Who are you? Are you alone?" he asked, fist still tight around the long knife with the knuckle guard. He could feel the effects of his hyper-vigilance, months of time without much real rest he was starting to distrust regular people which was either smart or very dangerous. He sighed realizing how it must have sounded, and looked, he lowered the knife to his side and apologized "sorry, ahh.. come on up here we'll find a safe place to talk. I dont want to be out in the open for much longer" after speaking he took a few steps back and over the business woman zombie to look down one of the southern halls but specifically never turned his back to her while he did. | Name: Jason
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Nationality: American
Appearance:
Family: Unknown, likely deceased/infected
Father
Mother
Sister
Past occupation: EMT - Basic (certified), Forensic Science Student
Personality: Jason is pretty laid back and casual in most situations, he is also generally very quiet taking some time before he gets comfortable enough to talk freely. He will still however make crude or dark jokes at inappropriate situations, but it is simply how he has been handling the end of the world. He would seem somewhat distant and cold on the surface, especially after the world ended, but he is actually quite caring about those he trusts. His studies in forensic science and emergency medicine has made him more psychologically prepared for the end of the world and seeing death and destruction has left less of a wound on his mentality than it otherwise would have. However he was still effected by the end of the world, in a survival situation he puts his own and his group's survival above the well being of others. he certainly tries to help the rest of humanity, but if he is starving and some other group wont share... well, he will take what he needs at gun point.
Background: Jason is actually a Colorado native having moved to NY not long before the collapse for an internship program at an NY lab. he had only been working for a few months when the first cases where moving out of Texas. Jason followed the story somewhat closely becoming increasingly worried as the problem moved north. He was already a little paranoid about the world ending due to war or some kind of disaster, Zombie apocalypse was just an amusing thought experiment from his high school days. So before the mass panic struck NY proper Jason went out and bought food, water, and a little bit of ammunition for his gun. It wasn't much and his supplies didn't last him very long, but he decided if he were to survive he would get creative.
A few weeks into the apocalypse, having spent most of the days inside trying to ride out the most chaotic part of the collapse, Jason left and tried to accumulate supplies that would make him more capable against the rage zombies. This was a dark time for all of humanity, and Jason was no better. He managed to get some gear together and a modest stash of food before deciding to move away from the city. The population density would make it a death trap once the horde of Zombies where done feeding on the survivors trapped within. During the first few months of the outbreak Jason had met up with a few other survivors, they where weak willed and obviously couldn't handle their new reality but the day came where their luck had ran out and Jason was stuck in a situation where they could not survive... but he could so he abandoned them. It weighs heavily on him, and he regrets their deaths but it also steeled his resolve to live. It is the world they live in now, survival of the fittest.
What's in their bag:
4 days of food
Steel canteen (nearly empty)
Life Straw (water filter)
extra clothes, mostly winter gear
looted body armor (police officer)
Paintball mask (to protect eyes and mouth from zombie blood)
two decks of paying cards
sun tzu's art of war
compass (no map)
Empty shotgun shell bandolier
Thick leather motorcycle jacket (damaged from zombies)
Thick leather gloves
simple surgical kit:
scalpels
surgical forceps (several different kinds)
suture needles (improvised with fishing line, miles left)
suture thread
tourniquet
bandages
small flask of rubbing alcohol (very little left)
nitrite and latex gloves
Weapons: Machete strapped to left hip and leg
large buck knife with knuckle guard strapped to right hip
12Ga shotgun (4 shells left)
Other: Im using this and an OOC note, I personally own 90% of this gear except for the bit of body armor, but i justify that because it would be somewhat easy to find especially in a large city like NY. |
8,664 | 241 | 11 | 189 | 177 | Alex crossed through the gate into the walled off area. The patio and chairs that once decorated the area had been tipped over onto their sides, the umbrella of the table was bent and broken in several places and the cloth was tattered and strewn all over the area. In one corner were a few potted plants that had died with no one around to care for them and to his right lay the crumpled body of the infected he had killed in an ever growing pool of blood.
"Well," He made his way over to the infected's corpse. "Let's see what you had on you." He said as he crouched over the infected and began to rummage through it's pockets. "Nothing special." Alex grumbled as he looked over what he had found. A Swiss army knife, 2 rounds of 9mm ammunition and the infected's wallet. "Well, Mister," Opening the wallet he pulled out the driver's license and what little cash had been inside. "James Harrison," He closed the wallet and tossed it over the wall, listening as it landed with a soft thud. "Thanks for the kindling, I guess. Now, let's get you outta here."
He grabbed the former Mr. Harrison's legs and began to drag him, pulling him through the iron gate and down the alley before eventually stopping two houses down to leave the body in another abandoned patio. "Sure hope you enjoy you're new digs, Mr. Harrison." Alex said turning away from the corpse, noticing the trail of blood that he had left from dragging the body. "Well, shit. Not gonna be hiding from any real people that's for sure."
Following the trail of blood Alex made his way back to the untouched house where he used his newly acquired swiss army knife to pry open the door. As soon as the door was open he was hit by the stench of something rotting. Gripping his machete he drew it from its sheath and whistled, waiting to see if there was another infected inside. In the silence that following the only thing he could hear was the sound of his beating heart.
Ba-bump.
Ba-bump.
Ba-bump.
Nothing. With his nerves slightly less on edge he shut the door and looked around at the interior of the brownstone house. The door he had entered through put him in the kitchen, and while the smell of rotting fruit on the kitchen counters was pungent he could still smell something else in the house, mostly likely upstairs. Past the kitchen was a small laundry room and a dining area as well as the stairs that led up to the remaining levels of the house and down to the basement.
While in the kitchen he took the opportunity to clean while he searched, setting everything he found useful on the kitchen table. By the time he was finished searching he had nearly vomited from the stench of rotted food in the fridge but in the end he had been able to gather most of what was rotted and place it in trash bags while able to set aside 4 cans of assorted canned goods that were still good enough to eat, a small bag of rice, an unopened jar of peanut butter and another unopened jar of honey. "Pretty good haul so far, if I do say so." He said as he stuffed his haul into his sling bag before moving through the house to make his way upstairs.
With each step to the next level the smell of grew worse. The second floor held a living room set with two comfortable looking chairs and a sofa facing a television, and through another doorway was a reading area with a few chairs set around a table and several book shelves along the wall packed with books. Seeing nothing of use at first glance he moved on up to the next floor.
The smell was strongest here. On either side of him upon stepping foot on the landing was a bedroom. One of the doors stood open, but the other was shut. Moving to the open room, keep his hand on his machete, he peered into the room. Two dressers were set along the wall, a large bed pushed up against the wall opposite them. To the right of the bed, along the same wall with the door leading into the room, was a door to a closet and another leading to the master bathroom. The smell was starting to become unbearable so he searched quickly. Besides clothes in the dressers and closest he found a magnalite flashlight and an empty gun case. "They've got a gun, but where is it?" He muttered to himself tossing the gun case on the bed as he moved to the other closed bedroom.
"This is it," He said coming to a stop in front of the door, the stench of something long since rotted permeating through the closed door. He slowly opened the door and shined his new light inside. One the floor between two twin size beds covered with sheets were there lumps, one larger one and two smaller ones. Slumped in a chair in front of them was another corpse. "Some people weren't meant for the new world," His voices was muffled as he kept his hand over his mouth in an attempt to hold the stench at bay. "Better to take the easy way out, but it's still not a pretty sight." As he was shutting the door he saw it. A .38 revolver lying on the floor by the corpse in the chair. "There it is!" He quickly grabbed the gun and shut the door. "I hope I don't see anything else like that, but I've got a feeling I wont be that lucky." He muttered to himself as he made his way back downstairs checking the cylinder of the revolver and removing the spent shells. Only two shots left, and still no extra ammo for anything I already have. | Name: Alexander "Alex" Pearce
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Nationality: American
Sexuality: Straight
I couldn't help but use Negan for a zombie apocalypse RP.
Family:
Mother-Deceased (Pre-infection)
Father-Deceased (Pre-infection)
Uncle-Unknown
Aunt-Unknown
Younger Brother-Unknown
Past occupation: Forest Ranger
Personality: Alex is a friendly person, often going out of his way to try and help others. The beginning of the infection's spread did little to sway him from his usual self, but over the last few months he has become more distant, often spending much of his time by himself. He has developed a slight tendency to talk to himself after spending a great deal of time alone, although he doesn't seem to notice it himself.
Background: Alex was born in the southeastern part of Texas to a pair of farmers that lived in a small town in the woods. With larger town being miles away Alex spent a good deal of his youth with his friends exploring the woods that surrounded his hometown, often spending hours at a time with his friends just exploring and playing in the woods. As he got older he would spend more time with his father in the woods, learning to hunt and track animals. The two of them often spending entire weekends together exploring.
Wake up. Go to school. Come home. The woods. That was his life for years, so much so that he felt the woods had practically became his home. He spent any chance he had there, and anytime something upset him the woods would become his escape. At 14, both of his parents were killed in a terrible car accident and he and his younger brother were sent to live with their uncle, a rancher in Montana. The only problem with that was that he lost his escape. Over the next few months Alex was constantly depressed, but he continued to put on a brave face for his younger brother. A brave face had little effect on his uncle, however.
His uncle had finally had enough and he and Alex took a trip one weekend to the Flathead National Forest. It was the first time in a long time that Alex had been happy, feeling that he was finally able to escape all the things that he had been running from out there in the woods. After that those excursions with his uncle became regular trips and over time he became his old self again.
At 18, Alex decided that he would become a forest ranger and began volunteering as often as he could, and attending school the rest of the time. After four years of hard work he had officially became a forest ranger and he continued to spend his time in the woods, the only difference now he was being paid to do something he had done for years.
At 26, Alex moved to Phoenicia, NY to oversee the Sundown Wild Forest near there. Over the next 5 years he oversaw the construction of new ranger stations throughout the forest, and when rumors and news of what was happening in Texas he did what he knew best how to. Retreat into the woods. Over the coming months as the infection spread throughout the country Alex stayed within the confines of his woods along with many of the other forest rangers and hunters of the area that had the same idea.
Early on things were fine. They used the ranger stations and hunting cabins around the forest as outposts, keeping in touch with the radios in the stations. The infected were few and far between and the survivors were able to dispatch them easily enough, as time went on more and more were attracted to the sound of the hunter's gunfire and that's when they began losing people. The outposts near the edge fell first, pushing the survivors further in, but it wasn't long before the infected were on them as well.
The other's didn't seem to notice the pattern that the infected were always drawn to the sound of gunfire first, but once Alex realized he told the others. Many thought him foolish for believing it, but the next attack proved that he was correct as the infected were drawn once more to the sound. While the others panicked he took the chance to escape, for the first time leaving the interior of the woods and heading to the exterior to escape, stopping at the old, overrun ranger stations and hunting cabins to gather supplies. The infected were few and far between once again as they were drawn away to whatever sounds they could follow giving him little resistance on the way out.
What's in their bag: Alex carries a sling style hunting bag he found in one of the first hunting cabins he searched. In it he has two sets of spare clothes and a second jacket, 3 MREs and a full canteen of water, and a pair of long range radios he kept from the ranger stations, leaving much of the rest of the pack empty in case he finds anything of use while scavenging. On his right thigh he has a tactical thigh rig that he keeps a pistol he found holstered and any extra ammunition he finds.
Weapons: During his scavenging Alex has found a Mossberg Patriot rifle, with only 3 .308 caliber rounds available. A 6 inch hunting knife that he attached to the end of the rifle to form a makeshift bayonet. A Glock 20 that uses 10mm ammunition with only 6 rounds left in the only magazine he could find for it. A bolo style machete that has become his main way of dealing with any infected that he comes across.
Other: His younger brother was a member of the National Guard that was called in during the infection's beginning. He has not had any word from him and does not know if he is alive or not. |
8,665 | 241 | 12 | 1,501 | 301 | Nikolaiглава один (Chapter One)
Walking amongst the burnt out remains of vehicles and the bones of the dead always reminded Nikolai of the near sickening silence that engulfed the city. His boots made soft thuds as he trudged along the roads that once held thousands of people. He found himself remembering the days before and often about the soldiers he had slowly watched die one by one, all the while awaiting his own death. Since he had reached New York and began his new unofficial job as the looter for the Havens, he had been prepared for death. As he walked, he peaked into the cars left in decent condition and even one humvee that had been caught in traffic. In the backseat he found an M16 magazine that had 3 5.56 rounds in it. No good for his AK but he pocketed them anyways. Spending the time to fully ransack the humvee would only be time the infected could discover him, so he continued on towards the small safehouse he had built for himself on the top floor of a nearly ruined apartment building. His grumbling stomach bothered him slightly and before he knew it, he was rounding the corner to a grocery store he passed several times before. He stopped for a moment and sighed looking at the packed shelves and knowing that the place was packed with edible food.. and at least 20 infected. It was the place that he had been closest to death in a long time. Another sigh and he wandered on back to his journey "home". | Name: Nikolai, full name (николай маршал)
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Nationality: Ukrainian
Sexuality: Irrelevant
Appearance:
Although young, signs of stress can clearly be seen on his face and scars from countless encounters with both humans and infected have left their marks on him. Wearing surplus military BDU and some assorted combat equipment has made him a target in the past but its saved him every time so far.
Family: Deceased (Pre-Infection)
Past occupation: Nikolai has never held a serious job before but has done plenty of oddjobs over the years.
Personality:
Before the outbreak, Nikolai was always seen as kind and at least somewhat outgoing. He always managed to have something to say about anything and was never afraid of being wrong. The outbreak did little to change his personality but has put a damper on his seemingly endless happiness.
Background:
When Nikolai was 17 years old, his parents were killed in a carjacking in Moscow. His parents were fairly rich and when they passed they left their fortunes to Nikolai. In their will, his parents told him to spend the money on experiences, on traveling the world and being the best person he could be. A year or so later most people would consider him to be an "extreme tourist". His first stop on the path was to the Chernobyl nuclear power plant in his home country. After the start of hostilities in Ukraine, Nikolai left to explore the world. He never stayed anywhere long and even with a fortune to pull from he still tried to get by with the minimum. Traveling alone left its mark on Nikolai having experienced crime in practically every city he visited. He spent a year in the United States before the outbreak began.
After the outbreak, Nikolai first managed to join a group of National Guardsmen that had abandoned their posts rather than be overrun. That group changed and dwindled until at the end of it all, Nikolai was standing alone on the outskirts of New York just hoping that there was someone still alive.
What's in their bag:
Nikolai wears a military plate carrier and kevlar helmet. Besides the empty magazines and various cleaning tools, he has a small pouch he stores the miniscule amount of food he has and he has a half full canteen in another pouch.
Weapons:
Although menacing at first glance, the Auto Kalashnikov he carries is barely functional after months of heavy use. He has 6 "dirty" rounds for it that probably won't even fire in the best situation. He carries a makeshift shield on his back and has a steel police baton he uses frequently.
Other: By miniscule I mean he has a small bag of assorted nuts and seeds. By dirty rounds I mean that they were made post outbreak and are unstable and unreliable. If they go off at all they might not have the power needed to penetrate the skull even as a 7.62x39 round. |
8,666 | 241 | 13 | 2,694 | 54 | Meghan Johnson
Megan had been wandering aimlessly for at least the past hour. There was obviously nowhere that she needed to be, she didn't have a certain location she stayed in or anywhere she was planning to stay at. Her plan for the moment was to walk around until something sparked her interest or something happened to her. So far the most interesting thing that had happened was an infected trying to get at her over a fence and ending up impaling itself. There was a small amount of satisfaction in climbing up and horribly disfiguring it with a few good hits with her trusty hunting knife to its head and face. He didn't have a wallet, so she couldn't take anything from him except the lighter with nearly no fuel that was in his pocket. She threw that at the ground 20 minutes later and it made a little bang sound, which made her smile, a bit.
Exactly an hour and fourteen minutes had passed as she turned a left into a small alley between homes. She sometimes would jump as she was walking so she could see over a fence but only if she thought that particular garden might be interesting. Maybe the windows were broke or the fence was. Anything to grab her attention. As she was walking, she noticed a blood trail in front of her. It was coming out of the garden of a home on her left. It came out, went down a little, and then went into a garden on her right. Megan went up to the blood trail, crouched down and ran her fingers across it. It was wet. It was fresh.
Megan followed the blood trail down to the home on her right and pulled out her rifle, aiming it in front of her as she slowly turned the corner into the back garden. The trail of blood ended on a patio, meaning somebody had killed somebody or something here recently. She smiled as she made her way into the kitchen through the back door which was still open. As she was walking through the kitchen, somebody came down the stairs and was checking the rounds they had in a pistol. Gotcha!
She waited for him to look up and see her, standing across from him with a rifle pointed straight at his chest. | Name: Meghan Johnson
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Nationality: American
Sexuality: Bi-sexual
Appearance:
Family: Mother - Dead
Father - Unknown
Past occupation: Receptionist at a hotel.
Personality: Meghan, to put it simply, is a sadistic bitch. She enjoys watching people squirm or listen to them scream in terror, just as much as she likes causing it herself. She looks out for number one, and if somebody is getting in they way of her reaching her goals then they aren't going to be around if she can help it. Despite this, get on her good side and you've got yourself a fiercely loyal ally until you piss her off. She'll often crack a joke at the wrong time and doesn't really find herself concerned with the emotions of those she doesn't care about.
Background: Meghan grew up in Charleston, South Carolina with an alcoholic father and a mother who was so scared of being alone she would rather see her child abused than leave her marriage. Despite this, she loved her mother very much and often tried to step in when her father went on one of his usual alcohol induced rages, staying loyal to her mother even though she had every opportunity to leave and make Meghan's life so much better.
Around the age of 13, Meghan found an injured squirrel in her back garden. She toyed around with it, throwing it against things and breaking its limbs before finally killing it. She felt guilty, and decided she would never do anything like that ever again. A year later, after a particularly bad day, she took the family dog on a walk into a woods near her home and broke its legs, before torturing it for three days. The dog was deemed missing by her parents after she told them it had run away when she let it off the leash, and they didn't bother looking for it. This incident sparked a deadly curiosity within Meghan, which would see her finding and hurting animals constantly for years.
At the age of 18, Meghan's father accidentally killed her mother in a fit of drunken rage. He was arrested and sentenced for murder, and so with nothing keeping her at home, she moved to New York and took a job as a receptionist at a hotel. She lived here for the next six years, living out her sick fantasies on poor, unlucky animals she caught. She longed to hurt a person though, a real, living, breathing person.
And then the apocalypse happened. It was like a miracle for her. The world was her playground. For the first couple of months she would befriend and betray everyone she met, living out her sick fantasies on real people for the first time. But, after these initial couple of months, she realised she did need some help if she was going to survive, so she would only hurt people who deserved it, and there is no shortage of that in the apocalypse.
What's in their bag: Rope, matches, 2 one litre bottles of water, some cans of food, a change of clothes, a scalpel, a torch, two sets of batteries, two old newspapers, a blanket.
Weapons: Hunting rifle (7 rounds), 9 inch hunting knife.
Other: |
8,667 | 242 | 0 | 1,979 | 971 | The tavern was much busier than usual today. Customers coming in and out of the bar, waiters and waitresses up to their chins in orders, and not to mention the occasional fight that broke out every once in awhile.
Word had gotten out that an evil wizard was coming to take over the world. People treated it like it was nothing until villages were burned with violet fire. The reward for defeating such wizard was immense. Every adventurer was taking a flyer or too and setting out to try and find said enemy. Peace must reign through the land! And who wouldn't want to become famous for saving the world?
But of course, little Esmeralda would rather stay in her corner, reading her grimoire and performing simple alchemy in the back of the tavern. She had heard about the wizard coming to eradicate everyone, but she knew she wasn't strong enough to take him down. She wouldn't want to leave her lab anyway so why not someone else do the hard work?
Esmeralda sighed, looking down at her 'work area'. The table was covered in notes, spilled chemicals, and a glass of hard beer. | Name: Esmeralda
Class: Alchemist
Personality: shy, antisocial, introverted, creative, hopeless romantic, day dreamer
Looks: |
8,668 | 242 | 1 | 2,667 | 5,706 | Kili had just finished his work for the day and dropped off his prisoner at the stocks. A little worn out from the struggle he wandered into the tavern. Ducking out of the way of a brawl in the entryway he scurried past as quickly as his armor would allow. He heard a thunk as a fist bounced off of his chestplate rather unexpectedly. He turned his head to the younger man who was now ducking another punch and he kept going. Finding an empty spot Kili raised his hand and waived at the waitress and yelled to her "Food and ale!"
This place was unusually busy because people seemed to think it a wise idea to chase after some wizard that was rumored to want to rule the world. Kili really wanted none of that nonsense. It was fine to get yourself killed for a purpose and go down fighting but this was all rumored. He had no proof that it was true at all. When the waitress brought his food and ale he smiled and swatted her on the fanny and she chuckled flirtatiously. | . |
8,669 | 243 | 0 | 1,894 | 5,788 | Gramp, please. A woman begged the Overseer of the vault, her hands clasped together while she looked at her grandfather. "We need to get out there and see the waste. You know just as well as I do that population control isn't working, and relations with the Vault staff aren't getting any better. We need air."
For the past week in the crisp and new month of february, Mia Sato had constantly badgered her grandfather, the Overseer to the vault that she and everyone else she knew lived in, to send some people outside the vault and scout the nearby area.
Standing next to her was Doctor Gregg, who was the former leader to the Vault-Tec staff, but has since moved down from his position since the two parts of the vault merged into one. Since the hidden sector of the Vault was discovered, Gregg had taken a position next to the Overseer, proving invaluable in terms of Vault Tec truths and overall direction. "She's right, you know." He commented. "This is the year that Vault Tec believed would be the year of safety, when the release signal would be sent to the vaults for opening." However, they all knew that signal was never coming. They were already far behind the schedule that Vault Tec set out for them, if that was their true window for time.
Jason Sato looked to her granddaughter and his assistant, tapping his chin. They were becoming rather insistent on having some people look outside the vault. Unfortunately, they could not set up any sort of way to monitor the outside world from in the vault, but maybe they would be able to do so if they finally opened the doors. However, he was aware of the risks. If he were to open that door, people, whatever people were still alive, would see, and they would alert others and they would either be wasted or taken advantage of.
"If I were to send out some sort of reconnaissance team," He watched as Mia's eyes widened and Gregg's eyes were taken off of his pip-boy. "Who would I pick? Would I take volunteers? Given how the vault has tailored us to... exceeding the limitations and expectations of man, both mentally and physicaly, just about anyone could be deemed ready to go out and explore. But these are things that need to be thought of before any sort of other decisions can be made." He could see the readying excitement in Mia's eyes, ready to dash off at even the semblance of a dismissal to get started.
"However, I myself am I busy man. Doctor Gregg here is as well, so taking the time to talk to everyone and decide who would be ready to scout out the land above. We have no idea what we're getting ourselves into, so we must take each step with every ounce of caution possible."
Mia was a smart woman. She knew what her grandfather was telling her, and she was itching to bounce off, but she couldn't just yet.
"M-" Jason couldn't get even a word out before Mia rushed off out of the Overseer's office, jumping and bounding out of the office and through the hallways.
It was only a matter of time before she got outside to see the world above. | Full Designated Name: Mia Sato
Nicknames or alternate names?: Mi (pronounced like 'Me'), Little Miss Overseer (childhood nickname)
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance: General appearance
Mia, standing in at five feet and six inches and weighing one hundred and twenty nine pounds, has a rather standard built body that she finds little interesting about herself physically. The only abnormal thing about her if the her heritage, which gives her a different appearance than most in the vault. Her hands, arms, and legs have an assortment of scars from various activities in the vault, including her own workshopping and experimentation.
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
General Personality and Outlook on Others: For those in the vault, Mia has a rather bright opinion of the people that she's grown up with and around. With the current Overseer as her grandfather, she had always been determined to pass the Overseer's test and become the next overseer when her grandfather would eventually become too ill to do his duty. She has done all she could in order to get to know her fellow dwellers, and enjoys their company, but prefers to be left to her devices and not be shown up when she is working on her Pipboy or other various projects.
Hobbies and Interests: tinkering, trying to solve the overseer's test, micromanaging, mingling with vault security.
Profession and Position: Micromanager extraordinaire, part-time tinkerer, hopeful overseer
Recognized Past: Mia, since the day she was born, has looked up to her grandfather as the Overseer of the vault, hoping to one day be like him and take care of the vault and its people. Her father, content with his job in teaching, never wanted to be Overseer, but Mia had different plans. Every day since she was deemed old enough, she had taken the Overseer's test, but to no avail. She had never once given up, and still she refuses to. In her spare time, she works on her Pipboy and the others as well, as well as doing what she can to help Elias with maintaining the vault when he isn't looking (as she doesn't want him getting mad at her for touching stuff she shouldn't be touching). She had also been known to join the Vault-tec security from time to time, meeting with them on their range days to keep up skill.
When the other side of the vault was found, she was initially suspicious of how everything was going to happen, but her grandfather for an easy and forgiving person, and allowed Mia to see to the merging and data collection for him to review later. Ever since vault-tec staff merged with the rest of the vault, Mia has been keeping a closer eye on everything, making sure that nothing bad was happening.
When the Vault-Tec staff spoke of the outside world that how they've been monitoring it, she was one of the first to volunteer to see the outside, doing everything she could to equip herself for the unknown world around them.
Talents, Abilities, and Skills: Tinkering and computer skills, minor skill in ranger weaponry, thinking, tactics, steady hands, mostly-smooth words.
Relationships with others:
Family members and status:
Additional information and Notes: |
8,670 | 243 | 1 | 778 | 3,791 | Hey Mia! Are we going out? If we are then... Fetch Coil, that buzz saw of his needs something more then just protectrons in need of servicing! Elias shouts to Mia as she passes by, almost dropping some schematics. Elias then walks into the Overseer's office. "Overseer, I was wondering weather me and a few others could set something up outside the vault once we open up, just a perimeter for the guards or maybe something more extensive, outpost and wall, say made with parts of the wall from the hidden lower residential lev... How long have you been there doctor? " Elias blurts out at an insidious pace, slowing down at the end, laying out many schematics and blueprints of a defensive wall outside what Elias reckons is the vault door, coinciding with what Elias thinks were the pre-war security fences, just adding guard towers.
Coil is busy with another vault engineer, trying to get an old protectron working under the watchful eyes of four vault guards, their pistols aimed at the dusty old thing, almost scared of it. "We disabled it's motors officers, no need to keep aiming at a paralysed husk of a glorified bin, not even worth the bullets. A Mister Gutsy on the other hand... You'd need an army of these things just to dent one of those fine products of General Atomics... If only we had one of those tireless heroes from General Atomics to fix those stalwart champions of order left to endure time's cruel..." Coil states, almost sneering before going into a patriotic and almost heartwarming speech about the Mr Gutsy in the standard Mr Handy voice, tweaking certain parts of the protection in disdain and disappointment, longingly staring at three deactivated Mr Gutsies leaning in the corner with one eye, the other two concentrating on the work at hand. | ull Designated Name: Logan Drago
Nicknames or alternate names?: Ahab
Age: 143
Gender: Male
Race: Super Mutant
Appearance: Standing at 6'5 and weighting in at around 232 pounds of muscles, His skin is dark green with small bright brown spots all over his body and one noticeable spot on his forehead. He wears a long trench coat that covers most of his body and underneath that he wears metal armor along with some slacks and a army helmet he found once.
Sexual Orientation: Straight
General Personality and Outlook on Others: A friendly super mutant that is always willing to make fiends with others if they want to of course, However he is also cautions of others if he thinks they will be a threat to him or to his friends. He is also loyal to his friends and comrades fighting with them to the death if needed.
He likes most people expect humans or ghouls that annoy him.
Hobbies and Interests: Reading, Practicing with his gun and watering his plants.
Profession and Position: Liberian/Wanderer
Recognized Past: Was born in Maine and during his life as a human he was merchant for the a merchant company called "Far and Away Traders" whom he worked many years for them. During a run he was ambushed by a gang of super mutants that dragged him and another friend of his into the FEV vats.
He awoke 2 weeks later having fully turned into a mutant and his friend into a Centar he escaped his captors with the Centar whom he named Ishmael and lived in a abandoned library in Maine for a good 50 years protecting with traps and robots. Soon enough not wanting to be alone and heard about a old friend in Ronto so he left his library with Ishmael to head to Ronto.
Talents, Abilities, and Skills: Big Guns, Science, Traps, Barter
Relationships with others: Ishmael - Pet
Family members and status: Family dead but does not know that his Great Grand Niece is alive.
Additional information and Notes: None |
8,671 | 243 | 2 | 802 | 420 | Looks like we've got a mutant, a calm voice said to himself. He was quite a ways away from the super mutant which presented an opportunity to take it out here and avoid hassle later. Hoisting himself onto a small platform of rock a young man readied his sniper rifle. The shooter made sure that he was obscured enough to avoid detection. Scoping out the area the human realized that he had failed to see a second super mutant. Eyeing his prey he noticed that one of them carried a sniper rifle as well.
Sighing to himself he lowered his weapon. He might be able to take out the sniper first, but he couldn't afford for the second mutant to get close to him. That's a fight he would lose for sure. A sniper rifle wasn't always reliable for taking down a super mutant with the first shot. They're skin was fortified and tougher than that of a human's.
Instead Edgar would have to settle for sneaking around the behemoths. He made his way along the rocks stealthily making sure to peak every now and again to make sure the super mutants were still distracted. Edgar's main reason for exploring the wastes was a need for herbs. The wastes were experiencing a period of 'rebirth' which meant an abundance of new plant life. Edgar's best friends and comrades, Tali and Ray, were in need of some fauna required for specific recipes (both medicinal and nourishing in nature), and Edgar was also in charge of meal prep.
Continuing along Edgar noticed that one of the mutants was searching for something. It didn't seem to possess the same primal mannerisms that most super mutants did. From what Edgar could see the mutant was piling through books. This distraction was enough for Edgar to forget that he was in hiding. He stared curiously still somewhat obscured (albeit less than before). | Full Designated Name: Edgar Vargas
Nicknames or alternate names?: N/A
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Race: Bi-racial (Ethnically: Latino)
Appearance:
Edgar would conventionally be considered quite handsome. His skin is a light bronze in color, and his eyes are hazel. He has shaggy brown hair that he tries to keep gelled whenever possible. When he can, he enjoys fading the sides and back of his hair, whilst letting the top grow, but more often than not he's working with natural growth.
He is fairly athletic with a slightly larger body type than a runner's physique. His right arm is constantly covered regardless of what armor or clothing he is wearing.
During warmer seasons Edgar only wears a torn button up shirt that only covers his right arm. The shirt is reinforced with body armor and refitted arm protection made from robotic scraps. His free arm (kept unprotected for melee versatility) just has an armband on the bicep. He also wears gloves with a grip for climbing (though his ability to climb can be limited depending on the level of pain in his arm). He wears slim-fitting joggers that are also reinforced with scrap robotic parts. Lastly, he wears combat boots (and sometimes road goggles rest on his forehead).
For less combat oriented roles, Edgar is typically wearing casual attire: leather jackets, flannels, t-shirts, jeans, etc.
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual
General Personality and Outlook on Others: Edgar is a bit socially awkward having grown up with the Children. A bit brooding/quiet, he often prefers isolation, and is incredibly slow to trust. Edgar once saw death as a horrid thing, but has come to see it as a commonality in the wasteland. While he was no vault-dweller and still faced the obstacles of the wastes, he was relatively safe-guarded throughout childhood. He was quickly forced to grow-up working as a merchant (and occasional bodyguard) to survive.
Hobbies and Interests:
-Traveling
-Reading (pre-war books)
-Selling Goods
-Armor Crafting
Profession and Position: Merchant/Hired Gun
Recognized Past: Edgar was born to a retired mercenary father and a chem-addicted mother. Edgar's early childhood wasn't that far off from most wastelanders. He learned to survive; just as others did. After one particularly bad trip, Edgar's father sought to get rehabilitation for his wife. He had little alternative but to seek help from a settlement in Vancouver. The settlement could only afford to permit one entrant from the three of them. Edgar left his wife with the settlement to get cured, taking Edgar with him. The plan was to come back for Edgar's mom when once she was a bit more healthy
Struggling to survive with two mouths to feed Edgar's father would embrace a cult of people that worshiped radiation. These "Children of Atom" offered shelter to both Edgar and his father. Edgar (already six by this time) was incredibly weary of the group especially because he grew increasingly worried about his mother. Edgar's father dismissed his fears.
Fast forward nine years, and Edgar and his father had become living members of the Children of Atom. While Edgar remained skeptical he was obedient and far more sympathetic to the people who saved his life. Exposure to radiation began to affect Edgar's father quite noticeably throughout the years. He began using chems himself to dull the effects it had on his body. This only worked to deteriorate his mind, and Edgar's father became increasingly more aggressive. Feelings of deep-seeded insecurities regarding their family began to surface in unhealthy ways. It ultimately culminated in a fight between Edgar and his father. Edgar's father would attack his son with acid, though fortunately only managed to harm his right arm. The damage was still severe. The medics in the cult tended to Edgar's wounds. Whilst being treated, the High Confessor of the order told Edgar that he would do best serving as a missionary. With the world's vegetation slowly returning to its natural state- the cult worried that Atom's grip on the planet was waning. Once Edgar was healed he'd be escorted by a sister of the order.
Having grown up a quiet skeptic of the faith, Edgar was more than willing to get away from his father and from the Children. Once healed, he and Sister Kathleen embarked on a mission to spread the word of Atom. Edgar would try and leave peacefully multiple times, but never had the opportunity. He was still trying to gain feeling in his right arm, whilst learning to use his left. After months of traveling Edgar managed to build enough strength to leave Sister Kathleen. He attempted to sneak away from their camp at night, only to be confront by Kathleen. Sister Kathleen would not allow Edgar to abandon Atom, and attempted to subdue Edgar. The fight ended with Edgar killing Kathleen with a revolver. Traumatized by what he had done, Edgar had little other option but to leave Vancouver for fear of the Children finding him. Edgar headed for Oregon where he would eventually meet two merchants- a brother and sister (Tali and Ray).
Talents, Abilities, and Skills:
-Partially resistant to radiation: Edgar is slightly more tolerant when it comes to radiation exposure. However, prolonged exposure to radiation can affect the use of his arm for some time- causing numbness and a lack of sensation. This makes melee in radiated areas rather tricky. While he has a better tolerance for picking up rads- he is by no means invulnerable. Prolonged exposure can kill him about as easily as any other person.
-Sniper: Edgar's preferred weapon is a sniper rifle. He is much better at long distance range than in close combat. His right arm is not reliable enough (especially for drawn out fights) to try hand-to-hand combat approaches most of the time. Instead, Edgar enjoys attacking from afar and allowing his allies to move in close to weakened targets
-Revolver: Edgar's most reliable weapon in close-quarter combat. Edgar has become relatively adept at shooting with his left hand. He's certainly not the best shot, but it has saved his life on quite a few occasions.
Relationships with others: Edgar has become best friends with Tali and Ray- a brother and sister who both work as traveling merchants. Edgar has served as both a bodyguard and third member of their enterprise.
Family members and status: Edgar's parents are both still alive as far as he knows, though their relationship is shaky. They are both in Vancouver. |
8,672 | 243 | 3 | 778 | 3,791 | Abel was holding some books in his hands before his eyes moved to a human body that was behind a rock,"Ah shit.." The mutant jumped up in the ground landing with a loud thud that shook the ground below him. Dropping the books on the ground and hiding by a near by rock fiddling with his rifle before pulling it out.
"Eh...human..ah umm...I am not here to harm you...I just trying to find some books...unbelievable as it sounds but it is true" The tall mutant had to try to hid his whole body so he would not be shoot by the human. | ull Designated Name: Logan Drago
Nicknames or alternate names?: Ahab
Age: 143
Gender: Male
Race: Super Mutant
Appearance: Standing at 6'5 and weighting in at around 232 pounds of muscles, His skin is dark green with small bright brown spots all over his body and one noticeable spot on his forehead. He wears a long trench coat that covers most of his body and underneath that he wears metal armor along with some slacks and a army helmet he found once.
Sexual Orientation: Straight
General Personality and Outlook on Others: A friendly super mutant that is always willing to make fiends with others if they want to of course, However he is also cautions of others if he thinks they will be a threat to him or to his friends. He is also loyal to his friends and comrades fighting with them to the death if needed.
He likes most people expect humans or ghouls that annoy him.
Hobbies and Interests: Reading, Practicing with his gun and watering his plants.
Profession and Position: Liberian/Wanderer
Recognized Past: Was born in Maine and during his life as a human he was merchant for the a merchant company called "Far and Away Traders" whom he worked many years for them. During a run he was ambushed by a gang of super mutants that dragged him and another friend of his into the FEV vats.
He awoke 2 weeks later having fully turned into a mutant and his friend into a Centar he escaped his captors with the Centar whom he named Ishmael and lived in a abandoned library in Maine for a good 50 years protecting with traps and robots. Soon enough not wanting to be alone and heard about a old friend in Ronto so he left his library with Ishmael to head to Ronto.
Talents, Abilities, and Skills: Big Guns, Science, Traps, Barter
Relationships with others: Ishmael - Pet
Family members and status: Family dead but does not know that his Great Grand Niece is alive.
Additional information and Notes: None |
8,673 | 243 | 4 | 802 | 420 | Edgar nearly stumbled back with shock. A super mutant that spoke fairly coherent sentences? The young man quickly re-assumed his earlier position- using the rocks as his cover. Looking forward, his eyes darted a bit, he was trying to figure out what his next move would be. He pressed the back of his head against the rock his head looking over his shoulder; he called out to the super mutants before him.
"If you aren't going to attack me maybe you should back off to show me. What's to say your friend doesn't pick me off as soon as I peak my head around this corner?" Edgar sighed before continuing. "Look, I don't know how you're talking so well, but I've seen the mess your people leave behind." Edgar knew there was no point in trying to be rational with a super mutant. Their anger and blood lust drove them. Edgar admittedly felt bad for the humans that they once were, but he knew that survival meant having no hesitation with super mutants.
His eyes wondered as he sought an escape route should they start shooting. There honestly weren't many options. Behind him was a small rocky hill. Surely he'd be shot down before he could hope to climb that. When things got hairy, he'd have to take out the one with the rifle first. A small part of him hoped that these mutants really weren't prepared to tear him limb from limb- or more likely drag him away to perform whatever procedure that do to create more of their kind.
He grimaced at the thought and waited. | Full Designated Name: Edgar Vargas
Nicknames or alternate names?: N/A
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Race: Bi-racial (Ethnically: Latino)
Appearance:
Edgar would conventionally be considered quite handsome. His skin is a light bronze in color, and his eyes are hazel. He has shaggy brown hair that he tries to keep gelled whenever possible. When he can, he enjoys fading the sides and back of his hair, whilst letting the top grow, but more often than not he's working with natural growth.
He is fairly athletic with a slightly larger body type than a runner's physique. His right arm is constantly covered regardless of what armor or clothing he is wearing.
During warmer seasons Edgar only wears a torn button up shirt that only covers his right arm. The shirt is reinforced with body armor and refitted arm protection made from robotic scraps. His free arm (kept unprotected for melee versatility) just has an armband on the bicep. He also wears gloves with a grip for climbing (though his ability to climb can be limited depending on the level of pain in his arm). He wears slim-fitting joggers that are also reinforced with scrap robotic parts. Lastly, he wears combat boots (and sometimes road goggles rest on his forehead).
For less combat oriented roles, Edgar is typically wearing casual attire: leather jackets, flannels, t-shirts, jeans, etc.
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual
General Personality and Outlook on Others: Edgar is a bit socially awkward having grown up with the Children. A bit brooding/quiet, he often prefers isolation, and is incredibly slow to trust. Edgar once saw death as a horrid thing, but has come to see it as a commonality in the wasteland. While he was no vault-dweller and still faced the obstacles of the wastes, he was relatively safe-guarded throughout childhood. He was quickly forced to grow-up working as a merchant (and occasional bodyguard) to survive.
Hobbies and Interests:
-Traveling
-Reading (pre-war books)
-Selling Goods
-Armor Crafting
Profession and Position: Merchant/Hired Gun
Recognized Past: Edgar was born to a retired mercenary father and a chem-addicted mother. Edgar's early childhood wasn't that far off from most wastelanders. He learned to survive; just as others did. After one particularly bad trip, Edgar's father sought to get rehabilitation for his wife. He had little alternative but to seek help from a settlement in Vancouver. The settlement could only afford to permit one entrant from the three of them. Edgar left his wife with the settlement to get cured, taking Edgar with him. The plan was to come back for Edgar's mom when once she was a bit more healthy
Struggling to survive with two mouths to feed Edgar's father would embrace a cult of people that worshiped radiation. These "Children of Atom" offered shelter to both Edgar and his father. Edgar (already six by this time) was incredibly weary of the group especially because he grew increasingly worried about his mother. Edgar's father dismissed his fears.
Fast forward nine years, and Edgar and his father had become living members of the Children of Atom. While Edgar remained skeptical he was obedient and far more sympathetic to the people who saved his life. Exposure to radiation began to affect Edgar's father quite noticeably throughout the years. He began using chems himself to dull the effects it had on his body. This only worked to deteriorate his mind, and Edgar's father became increasingly more aggressive. Feelings of deep-seeded insecurities regarding their family began to surface in unhealthy ways. It ultimately culminated in a fight between Edgar and his father. Edgar's father would attack his son with acid, though fortunately only managed to harm his right arm. The damage was still severe. The medics in the cult tended to Edgar's wounds. Whilst being treated, the High Confessor of the order told Edgar that he would do best serving as a missionary. With the world's vegetation slowly returning to its natural state- the cult worried that Atom's grip on the planet was waning. Once Edgar was healed he'd be escorted by a sister of the order.
Having grown up a quiet skeptic of the faith, Edgar was more than willing to get away from his father and from the Children. Once healed, he and Sister Kathleen embarked on a mission to spread the word of Atom. Edgar would try and leave peacefully multiple times, but never had the opportunity. He was still trying to gain feeling in his right arm, whilst learning to use his left. After months of traveling Edgar managed to build enough strength to leave Sister Kathleen. He attempted to sneak away from their camp at night, only to be confront by Kathleen. Sister Kathleen would not allow Edgar to abandon Atom, and attempted to subdue Edgar. The fight ended with Edgar killing Kathleen with a revolver. Traumatized by what he had done, Edgar had little other option but to leave Vancouver for fear of the Children finding him. Edgar headed for Oregon where he would eventually meet two merchants- a brother and sister (Tali and Ray).
Talents, Abilities, and Skills:
-Partially resistant to radiation: Edgar is slightly more tolerant when it comes to radiation exposure. However, prolonged exposure to radiation can affect the use of his arm for some time- causing numbness and a lack of sensation. This makes melee in radiated areas rather tricky. While he has a better tolerance for picking up rads- he is by no means invulnerable. Prolonged exposure can kill him about as easily as any other person.
-Sniper: Edgar's preferred weapon is a sniper rifle. He is much better at long distance range than in close combat. His right arm is not reliable enough (especially for drawn out fights) to try hand-to-hand combat approaches most of the time. Instead, Edgar enjoys attacking from afar and allowing his allies to move in close to weakened targets
-Revolver: Edgar's most reliable weapon in close-quarter combat. Edgar has become relatively adept at shooting with his left hand. He's certainly not the best shot, but it has saved his life on quite a few occasions.
Relationships with others: Edgar has become best friends with Tali and Ray- a brother and sister who both work as traveling merchants. Edgar has served as both a bodyguard and third member of their enterprise.
Family members and status: Edgar's parents are both still alive as far as he knows, though their relationship is shaky. They are both in Vancouver. |
8,674 | 243 | 5 | 778 | 3,791 | "Of course i can try speaking to him...But i don't think he will be much of a conversationalist..if you know Behemoths do not have much of a advance brain like you and me..." Ahab said looking over to the behemoth that was walking around,Holding his M1903 Springfield rifle with scope and extended magazine.
"Well unless you want to try to sneak pasted it...or distract it while talking to it while you sneak away" The mutant said clamming down a little more taking deep breaths. | ull Designated Name: Logan Drago
Nicknames or alternate names?: Ahab
Age: 143
Gender: Male
Race: Super Mutant
Appearance: Standing at 6'5 and weighting in at around 232 pounds of muscles, His skin is dark green with small bright brown spots all over his body and one noticeable spot on his forehead. He wears a long trench coat that covers most of his body and underneath that he wears metal armor along with some slacks and a army helmet he found once.
Sexual Orientation: Straight
General Personality and Outlook on Others: A friendly super mutant that is always willing to make fiends with others if they want to of course, However he is also cautions of others if he thinks they will be a threat to him or to his friends. He is also loyal to his friends and comrades fighting with them to the death if needed.
He likes most people expect humans or ghouls that annoy him.
Hobbies and Interests: Reading, Practicing with his gun and watering his plants.
Profession and Position: Liberian/Wanderer
Recognized Past: Was born in Maine and during his life as a human he was merchant for the a merchant company called "Far and Away Traders" whom he worked many years for them. During a run he was ambushed by a gang of super mutants that dragged him and another friend of his into the FEV vats.
He awoke 2 weeks later having fully turned into a mutant and his friend into a Centar he escaped his captors with the Centar whom he named Ishmael and lived in a abandoned library in Maine for a good 50 years protecting with traps and robots. Soon enough not wanting to be alone and heard about a old friend in Ronto so he left his library with Ishmael to head to Ronto.
Talents, Abilities, and Skills: Big Guns, Science, Traps, Barter
Relationships with others: Ishmael - Pet
Family members and status: Family dead but does not know that his Great Grand Niece is alive.
Additional information and Notes: None |
8,675 | 244 | 0 | 505 | 37 | Deep in the night, in the very heart of the Parraan fields, Tur'tan village was a lot more quiet than usual at these late hours. It used to be a hot spot for travelers and adventure seekers. Those who dared to cross paths and actually meet those of the Blackborn tribe, yet were lucky enough to tell the tale, became friends of the brotherhood and sisterhood formed by ages of traditions and mutual respect among the tribesmen and their associates.
Strong tundra wind waved the long furry cloak around as the newly promoted young chieftain stood on a hill overlooking the village of Tur'tan. It's been days since the messengers took off on their quests to deliver an encrypted message to each of the four other nations. He grows weary as none of them returned yet bearing the response of the allied nations' rulers. Apart from the village's defenses he is planning and plotting on the hill, there seems to be one more reason for him being there.
Two of his trusted soldiers, Makgran and Ragg, were on that hill alongside the chieftain. None of them said a word since they departed from the chieftain's hut. Over the course of years, duo have developed an intense yet close relation with Garganthar, and were promoted as his guardians upon his ascension to the throne.
Blackborn tribe was at alarm ever since the incident. Rumors of the "green plague" were slowly becoming more and more of a problem because at this rate they were decapitating the stability Garganthar and those in command before him have been holding firmly for centuries. How could it not? For a village that far away in the north, especially due to cold climate, it is rather unusual to have issues with other beings and viruses of magical nature, for nobody even dared to set their foot in the Parraan fields.
Without a word, young chieftain waved his hand slowly towards the village with index finger pointed directly at it as in indication. Two behind him started to tail him in silence, staring dead ahead with serious duty expressions. There was no point in waiting on something that might not even come, for there was no assurance that messenger's made it past the fields.
Meanwhile down in the southern regions of Loerynn, Mayeziah Grunn, a messenger who was sent towards the infamous land of chivalry and prosperity - the village of Riverdale, has finally made it to his destination. Exhausted and hungry, along with his wolf, he landed at the very gates of this village. Guards were nowhere to be seen on the watch posts, however this was to be expected. Grunn was spotted long ago and guardians were informed of his arrival beforehand.
"I call upon the gate-keepers to open the doors of their respective village," yelled the messenger, "I bear an important message from Garganthar, chieftain of the Blackborn tribe!" He kept on shouting in front of the village doors, but there was no response for the time being. It was as if he was being ignored on purpose and each second he'd have an arrow slide through his skull and pierce him dead. Mayeziah started to grow uneasy, wrapping his large fingers around the leash of his wolf. "In case something happens to me, make sure to run towards the chieftain and let him know," he spoke in calm and low voice profile to his companion. Squeeze of teeth and gritting loud noises were the wolf's response, followed with a frown aimed towards the gate.
Judging from the look on wolf's face, something fierce was approaching the gate. Grunn sat his hand on the weapon handle, preparing himself for an assault from the inside. It won't be long before he gets struck down, however he was prepared to take at least several more humans with him before the fall. Suddenly, a loud bashing sound. Gates started to open widely, revealing several figures on the inside standing alongside the process. Grunn squinted his eyes, somewhat frowning at the appearances as he felt endangered.
Without hesitation, figures started to move towards him. It was clear now, there was an armored individual with a lot of gear apparently, followed with two four subordinates holding spears with both of their hands. It seemed like a man with respect was about to meet him, along with several militia guards to cover him. Grunn was prepared.
As the individuals approached, their faces were revealed clearly by now. Guardsmen appeared to be regular villagers equipped with spears, serving just for intimidation and weak protection of the man in the middle. That man, however, appeared like a warrior and someone in position when it comes to village's defenses. His long black hair and fresh shaven jawline stood out. It certainly was someone of royalty in the village.
"A message from the ruler of Tur'tan, you claim?" Asked the male curiously, slowly crossing his arms in front of his chest as his four guardsmen started to surround Grunn. Mayeziah kept his eyes sweeping between the individuals, those surrounding him of course, and didn't pay much attention towards the male who spoke to him, at least visually. However, after several moments of silence, he decided to speak his mind. "Is this the well known chivalry of the Riverdale knights? I don't recall that term of such huge scale and meaning could be represented in this way and behavior," he flashed a grin immediately after. It would seem as if Grunn was eager to fight.
At this rate, he was completely surrounded with pikes aimed at him. Wolf he rode and his loyal companion was constantly growling at the captors. Male was somewhat shocked by Grunn's response, however kept the calm facial expression and deep royal voice tone. You stand before commander of the guard, royal knight of Riverdale and a very close relative of his highness, King Jordan the Second. It would take such a small amount, close to having none, of brain to know how to behave in front of someone of this size and reputation."
The way that man spoke, it would seem as if he was actually insulted by what Mayeziah said before. However, that was not the case. Not long after his remark, he would flash a wide smirk across his face and raise his right hand. Mayeziah turned his full focus towards the male upon hearing his words, following and watching his every move closely. He knew that peasants around him were not the issue in this scenario, but the one speaking to him is.
The very reason why that hand was raised was quite shocking, at least for Grunn. It served as the signal for guardsmen to lower their weapons and let the nomad roam freely. They slowly pulled their spears back, and walked towards the commander still facing Mayeziah though. "My name is Alexander, son of Branco DeVille." Commander apparently introduced himself out of nowhere, and with doing that waved his hand towards the village. "Come in. Don't be afraid. You look tired and exhausted enough that if anyone from the village wanted you dead, you'd be cold by now. There is no hostility here, my friend, so you and your little brat there may have some relief." He kept on talking confidently, and at this rate even Mayeziah calmed down.
He started to pet his wolf in order to express the situation to him, and at the same time motion him that they are not in danger. "The reason behind this poor welcome, fellow Blackborn, is simple. King Jordan and rest of the knights are away, hunting the local renegade party that sacked couple of village homes not far from here. We managed to capture one of them and he gave out the information..." Alexander briefly explained the situation to Grunn as they were walking into the village.
Yaraan, a messenger who was sent to inform both Dwarves and Elves regarding the meeting, was already on his way from Boldin Mines and towards the Jaeldanaar forest. Dwarves have always kept solid relations with the tribesmen and were handling a lot of trading conferences between each others. Yaraan used this knowledge and made his first stop be the Dwarven Empire.
On top of everything else, Elves and Dwarves were relatively close to each other in terms of geographical locations. Jaeldanaar forest was pretty huge as well, covering the very heart and center of Loerynn at a wide range. Messenger already made his first step into the forest approximately two hours ago. He knew from the very beginning that he was watched and observed, and that in case of a single wrong step he could be dead as well, pierced from the shadows by the hands of observers.
His fate was laying completely in the hands of an unknown commander who kept the borders under close watch. There must be no mistake on his quest. The very reason he picked this path and not any other messenger is because of his curiosity and wisdom. There is no match for him in the village when it comes to knowledge regarding the other nations and races, at least those who were in the books of old.
He kept roaming the lonely forest road with his companion, constantly hearing the movement around him in the bushes. However his tight grip over the leash wrapped around his wolf's mouth and neck kept him in control. After hours of complete loneliness, duo finally approached the dead end of the path they were on. Confused and somewhat shocked, Yaraan looked down at his wolf.
"You seem to be out of luck when following dirt-paths, nomad. That could cost you your life in most cases," said the soft female voice. It sounded like the origin of that voice was the forest itself. It echoed swiftly through the woods and pierced straight through ears of both the messenger and his companion. Wolf grew uneasy, slowly pushing himself towards the grass and laying there. It'd appear he is ready to jump and protect his master if need be.
Out of shadows, a female figure jumped from the trees and landed in front of the messenger with a sword in her hand. Other hand seemed to be occupied with handle of a knife which rested on her waistline, sheathed. It would seem as if the female was prepared to use the knife in case her attack with the sword failed. Messenger flinched and jumped backwards, pulling his chain leash with him as well. This forced his wolf to take temporary retreat as well and jump backwards in order to maintain some distance and receive the first blow.
"It took us some time to organize, we were not expecting an intruder in these early hours. What is your purpose here?" She kept on talking with that same soft voice from before. Eyes and most of her face were covered with a hood which was connected to a long black cloak, waving around and covering her body. Elves are known for using long black cloaks to protect themselves in the shadows of their forest, so this commotion was not an issue nor strange at all.
"I bring a message from chieftain Garganthar, of the Tur'tan village and Blackborn tribe," said the nomad, "would you be kind enough to escort me to your master?" He narrowed his large eyes upon the female. Taking his time and not making any sudden fast movements, he wrapped his fingers around the handle of his large black iron spear.
Female slowly pulled the hood off her head, revealing her long and pretty red hair. She shook her head for a bit and waved the hair around, then narrowed her vision upon the messenger as well. Situation grew tense as duo kept staring at each other. After some time of constant stare, she released her grip over the knife and sheathed her sword as well. It would appear as if she was comfortable at this rate and sure about nomad's intentions.
"You shall be brought before the queen, then. But remember that rule of one wrong move still applies, nomad, and shall you try something that shouldn't be tried in these woods, your head will shortly after hit the grass." She passed her threats as she beckoned them over, motioning the direction they should head in.
Ironjaw the Cripple, messenger who was sent to inform the Khadirs was in their tavern already. It's been quite some time since he entered the village and started to feast. Without even informing anybody, he decided it was about time for him to grab some brew and meat chops. Were Khadirs not cunning and wise, he would even forget why he arrived there in the first place.
Two soldiers walked into the tavern and immediately recognized the hooded figure sitting in the corner. What gave him up was the iron jaw he had, shining beneath the darkness of the hood covering him. One soldier nudged the other and then turned towards the counter. Those who were in the tavern were to leave that place at once, as it was now under military closure. One soldier stood at the entrance, motioning others that they should leave the tavern while other one gave orders to villagers and pointed them into the right direction.
One working at the bar was to stay, however. As the last guest left the tavern, and the only ones left were two soldiers, Ironjaw and the Khadir working at the bar, this nomad decided to stand up slowly. It would appear as if he was struggling to stand up due to his inability to walk properly. "A nomad always travels with his companion. Where is your wolf, old man!?" Shouted the soldier viciously, sniffing around and attempting to find the scent of Ironjaw's wolf.
"Do not take Ironjaw for a fool, Khadir." Nomad gave a swift response. He would appear to be comfortable in this situation and actually make a mockery of it as well while at it. "Lazarn is safe, kept in the fields next to the village to rest. I am the only one here, and there is a very good reason behind it." He kept talking.
Soldiers didn't seem to show much trust at all, keeping their noses and ears working the whole time. Even Khadir working at the bar started to sniff and look around for the wolf. "Go ahead, nomad," said the soldier, slowly drawing his blade out, "tell us the 'very reason' you are here?" He mocked back. Ironjaw grunted and then flashed a weak smile.
His weak body slowly started to move in direction of the bar. He would show no hostility in his movement at all, appearing to have that same chill from before. "Before I tell you anything related to that, let me tell you that the blade you pulled out won't be of any use here. After all, I believe you won't struck down an old man." Ironjaw successfully talked himself out of the mess he was in. Soldiers looked at each other, appearing to be confused. Situation as well started to get calmer and calmer with each second.
Several more soldiers walked into the tavern and narrowed their frown upon the nomad. "We are to imprison you until the commander arrives. Then we shall decide whether what you're saying is true or not." Said one of the soldiers who stepped into the tavern. And so was done, before even knowing it, Ironjaw had makeshift cuffs on his wrists and was taken into custody.
As he walked out the tavern, morning breeze and newly risen sun struck his eyes. The climate here was not the best suit for him, but he had job to do after all. No matter the cost, the message he carried had to be delivered to the respective leadership of this nation. Crowd was already surrounding the tavern, staring at this large, yet crippling figure of a once great warrior of his tribe. There was no mistaking it, he'll have wait for another dawn before proceeding with his plan.
Back in Tur'tan village, villagers have started to protest in front of Garganthar's hut. He kept sitting inside the hut desperately as he waited for any sort of response from the messengers. "If this keeps up, we are doomed. They better be back soon with an army. Else we will not only have to face the threat ourselves, but also to fight our fellow kinsmen who seem to distrust me at this rate. The fruit of my hard work is yet to bloom, but they don't seem to have the patience." Garganthar spoke to Makgran, who remained with him through the whole night. Ragg went to sleep a couple of hours after they left the hill.
"Worry not, brother. You sent three of our best hunters on that job. They will do their tasks successfully, even if that costs them their life. Especially Ironjaw, you know he served under your father for years." Makgran responded with a soft voice tone, boosting some confidence back into Garganthar's mind. Two shook their hands and embraced each other, then proceeded to ponder on what is going to happen in case their fellow messengers don't make it. | CHARACTER NAME:
Parraanstrider Thagar
CHARACTER RACE:
Blackborn
CHARACTER APPEARANCE:
Thagar appears to be rather young compared to rest of the comrades he is associated and teamed up with. He is pure blooded and has pure black skin to confirm his affiliations and origins. His body structure is his main tool, as his bulky muscular figure intimidates even the most fearless of creatures in the frozen wastes of Parraan.
On top of that he wears the black wolf fur over his head, allowing it to drop down from his shoulder and serve as both cloak and helmet in the night. There are several tusks wrapped around both of his wrists with a rope, as well as one tusk stuck into his skin near the right elbow, serving as a piercing and at the same time indicating his main hand.
Chest seems to be completely open, however without scars. Furry pants cover Thagar's whole leg area, accompanied with large boots. Very bottom of the boots is enhanced with the melted iron plate which has small spikes aimed towards the ground, simply so Thagar could protect himself from freezing ground and move around a lot easier.
Most of the time Thagar can be seen with his companion, Mayval, a small black wolf cub. |
8,676 | 244 | 1 | 200 | 1,543 | Uurohgak Krul sat cross legged on the hard dirt floor, taking shelter from the blazing sun beneath the shade of a crude make shift lean-to, its cover sheets violently bellowing in the wind.
This humble little outpost sat on the edge of a rocky outcrop located on the outskirts of the great Boldin Mines.
Opposite the young blackborn sat a short stout dwarf, his beard bushy and his face lined with age. A stone pipe hung from the corner of his mouth where it always lived. His blue eyes almost always peering through a swift endless cloud of thin frail smoke.
Yarsorli Silverdigger, Uurohgak Krul had come to think of him as a friend, and to some regard he was, but that never stopped the dwarf from swindling the Blackborn for all his worth.
Undoubtably the dwarfs were excellent metal smiths and crafters.
Uurohgak had come seeking aid for his injured and troubled jaw.
Yarsorli the gracious host and dwarf he was had kindly offered some complimentary sustenance for the frail tribesman, although after a few hours of drinking the concoction and making some ill purchases, Uurohgak's spinning head and helpless grin told him it was nothing more than some typical thick dwarven ale. By this point he didn't really care of the slight deception.
Jaw still broken, a large new Khopesh in hand and a belly full of mead, Uurohgak Krul and his wolf ally Reshy took off in the direction of the Jaeldanaar forest, fresh on the trail of Yaraan, a Blackborn messenger who recently passed the Boldin mines. News had spread through Boldin of the messengers passing and the intoxicated Uurohgak was anxious and curious to accompany him on his trip home.
It was after about an hour of steady travel into the Jaeldanaar forest that a heavy headed Uurohgak and confused Reshy found themselves lost and without a trail to follow. The two had been spun around and couldn't discern one direction from another. Reshy's nose was also unhelpful as it became deceived by strange and unusual scents.
While they made good time catching on Yarran over the plains between the Dwarven mines and Elven forest, now with every blind second-guessed step they were falling further behind. Uurohgak was now feeling the after effects of the Dwarven ale and worry of his choices began to set in. It was now hit or miss. Finally the duo chose a direction and ran with it, saying a silent prayer to the mother wolf as they put their fate in her hands. | CHARACTER NAME: Tulhi
CHARACTER RACE: Khadir
CHARACTER APPEARANCE: Tulhi has long, Tabby-patterned fur covering her entire body, with a medium-long tail that is often a mirror to her emotions, especially the mischievous glint in her eyes that often meant a long day for the elders of her tribe. Her body seems to be lithe and graceful, as if she could move like liquid, while hiding the muscles of a huntress beneath the skin.
She tends to wear colors roughly matching her environment, and barring that, she tends towards the darker colors, in patterns seemingly similar to her fur, all designed to break up her form as she stalks through the woodlands of her home, though she tends towards eschewing a helm, for the stated reason that it gets in the way of watching everything.
She carries her armaments, amounting to a Recurve Shortbow, which she shoots with good accuracy, and a pair of large hunting knives, which she can use for hunting and other utility purposes, and just as easily wield them in battle. |
8,677 | 244 | 2 | 505 | 37 | The strong winter breeze slammed continuously over the black fur wrapped around the head and back of the Parraanstrider. The creature he was hunting in the wastes doubled his size. However, he was not noticed. Laying on the snow, next to a large rock with spikes, he made the perfect disguise. There was no Mayval in sight as well. It seemed like Thagar went alone on this one, leaving his companion behind in the village of Tur'tan by the looks of it.
The creature, or prey in this case, was part of the Giantonostril blood family. Large and fat bodies, covered with natural armor solid as the rock on the back and sides, the creature gave impression of being unable to move with any good speed at all. However, still regardless to that fact Thagar to be extremely careful with his approach. Slowly and without any sound of movement, he wrapped his fingers around the large spear and tightened the grip.
The timing to strike had to be perfect in this case.
Any slight mistake could lead to his death, and he was aware of this. Creature, by it's nature however, had no eyes at all and was only moving and hunting by it's nose, thus the specie-family name. Parraanstrider was only focused at his movement and noise production at this rate, as that was the only thing that could lead to him slipping and getting caught by this gigantic creature.
Spear was at this rate completely in his hand, and the time to strike was right. In a swift move, Thagar jumped from the snow, somewhat even from the laying position, and aimed his spear towards the neck of the beast. While in air, he noticed that the beast was already looking in his direction, snorting viciously as it sensed him. It was not good at all. The beast started to shout as he arrived really close in the air.
In a swift move, beast threw Thagar sideways before he could even impale it. He dropped the spear upon impact, landing on his back into the snow. A bad moment for him, indeed. Beast followed his path with it's body, and then charged into the direction of his landing. This is bad, at this rate I'll be dismembered by it!" Said Thagar as he was looking around, somewhat dizzy, for his weapon and only choice of defense.
The spear he wielded, however, was thrown too far from him. Mere seconds were about to decide his fate as even the beast itself gained a lot of speed in it's charge. Thagar slowly pushed himself up to his knee's and remained somewhat in lowered position.
As the beast approached him, he pushed himself off the ground and jumped between it's legs. Due to inability to see, beast struck it's tusks into the ground where sound of Thagar's jump was a mere second before. Weaponless at this rate, he had no other choice but to remain still.
Creature raised it's head and looked both ways in shock, growling and shouting viciously in anger. Unless he moved, there was no chance that the beast could notice him. Even if he did, he was out of range of the tusks because he was beneath the beast. However, with it's gigantic size and weight, it would easily crush his body in paranoia and fear with it's own movement.
Several seconds passed before the large amount of blood dripped all over Thagar's face. He widened his eyes in shock, letting out a huge exhale of relief and moved to the side to use his chance. It was Mayval, Parraanstrider's companion. Nobody even saw him approaching in the snow, nor heard. He used his chance to jump and bite a vital point on the neck of the creature.
Mayval remained on the creature, and they both fell onto the snow sideways. "Mayval, you took your time to show up! But on the other hand, my loyal friend, your timing couldn't been better!" Yelled Thagar as he picked up his spear. Both wolf and creature were growling and shouting. Desperate movements were made as a futile attempt to survive by the beast, however there was no luck nor chance for it to make it.
Thagar ran up the beast and struck his spear through it's large head, with full force. Last reflex movements happened, and then beast went into silence not long after. Wolf released it's grip over the creature's neck, taking a few steps back. Blood was dripping from his teeth and mouth, leaving a red mark on the snow.
"My dear Mayval," Thagar walked towards his companion, carelessly leaving the spear struck into the beast's head, "you saved my life." He crouched next to his wolf and started to pet him. Mayval shown nothing but love back, clearly wishing to cuddle a bit. "You might want to take a few steps back, though. It's about to get ugly here, however, you'll grab a piece or two to eat." Thagar kept talking to his companion.
Parraanstrider was clearly about to skin and then dismember the beast. There was a lot of meat and skin on the beast, more than simply enough for Thagar to sell to his fellow villagers and even keep his own and Mayval's belly filled up for the time being. | CHARACTER NAME:
Parraanstrider Thagar
CHARACTER RACE:
Blackborn
CHARACTER APPEARANCE:
Thagar appears to be rather young compared to rest of the comrades he is associated and teamed up with. He is pure blooded and has pure black skin to confirm his affiliations and origins. His body structure is his main tool, as his bulky muscular figure intimidates even the most fearless of creatures in the frozen wastes of Parraan.
On top of that he wears the black wolf fur over his head, allowing it to drop down from his shoulder and serve as both cloak and helmet in the night. There are several tusks wrapped around both of his wrists with a rope, as well as one tusk stuck into his skin near the right elbow, serving as a piercing and at the same time indicating his main hand.
Chest seems to be completely open, however without scars. Furry pants cover Thagar's whole leg area, accompanied with large boots. Very bottom of the boots is enhanced with the melted iron plate which has small spikes aimed towards the ground, simply so Thagar could protect himself from freezing ground and move around a lot easier.
Most of the time Thagar can be seen with his companion, Mayval, a small black wolf cub. |
8,678 | 245 | 0 | 2,803 | 1,032 | Something Wicked This Way Comes
So Toll The Bell And Sound The Drums, For Something Wicked This Way Comes...
The Journey So Far
Location: Galloway (Town-stead)
Weather: Dry
Time of Day: Dusk
Rendezvous: "The Retired Sword“ Tavern
As dusk comes, the darkest stage of the evening twilight falls over Galloway. The last of the town’s merchants and stall vendors leave for the night, many heading to the local taverns or home to the comfort of family and an open fire. The executioner, a gloomy figure drabbed entirely in black, prepares the Gallows for the morning. Three men to be strung up for crimes against the town and borough of Galloway to be disclosed at time of execution to the general public.
Lights from candles and gas lanterns begin to fill the windows, on the tighter streets in the town light coming from one window flickers on the walls across the road. It gives an atmospheric feeling while traveling the town. The city guards shift changes leading to a higher presence of guards in the open until it completes.
Outside the town walls, woodsmen work late whittling away at the border of the Gallowglade, collecting logs and tolling back and fro, horse and cart dragging the wood back to the town depot. Yeomen, the highest rank any normal peasant can hope to achieve patrol the outskirts of the town on horseback keeping any eye out for anything strange, and questioning those entering or leaving the town. A couple of yeomen also observe the workers, lanterns emitting an eerie glow.
The streets soon empty, at least to a level much less busy than during the day. Inside the numerous taverns around town the life of the city continues.
Location: Galloway (Town-stead)
Weather: Fog
Time of Day: Night (2am)
Rendezvous: “The Retired Sword“ Tavern
It had grown late into the night, those taverns most regularly checked by guards had closed their doors to non-residents. Those who had nothing to do the next day and some who had flocked to those taverns down side streets and alleys that guards did not enter or had arrangements with. “The Retired Sword” has grown full and lively as it dwells further into the night. Our adventurers find themselves either joining the festivities or still awake in the tavern because with all the noise they find themselves unable to sleep. Occasionally the howl of a Gallowglade wolf pierces the ears of the patrons, the sound is chilling but doesn‘t impede on the festivities. A fog had rolled over the town having been approaching for quite a while giving a completely different atmosphere to the town streets, many of the lanterns no longer burning for another night.
Suddenly, the inn grew quiet as a flock of armored guard, swords, halberds or crossbows at the ready ran down the street past the inn the thudding of their leather boots almost in unison, breastplates and helmets giving off a metallic jangle. One guard passing lit the lanterns hanging outside buildings as they could. The noise hadn‘t just raised the curiosity of the inn patrons, simply relieved that the guards weren‘t coming for them, but also some of the residents in the areas, peering through windows to see what was going on.
The toll of a bell coming from the abbey at the North side of the town is when a sense of worry sets in. More guards run through the streets in small groups but it is apparent that they are passing through many other streets as well, all heading for the same direction.
Bestiary
An accurate record of the beasts and wildlife that the group have encountered since starting their journey. | Name:
Balian
Age:
34
Appearance:
Balian stands at 5"10, his build is somewhere between slim and lean. Grey eyes chestnut brown hair and face almost always stubbled, his appearance is often seen as striking. His eyes lack life, probably from years spent on the road, only ever stopping for brief respites in towns and villages that he passed. Notable features are a small scar on his chin and skin tested by the elements.
Class:
Ranger
-Bow & Blade Ranger: Can handle bladed weapons as well, allowing them to defend themselves against approaching enemies or close in for the kill. Ranged is preferred style of combat.
Alignment:
Neutral Good
Weapon(s):
Armor/Clothing:
As seen in picture. Also clad in a fine linen shirt, dark woolen hose and soft travel-worn leather boots, over his shirt Balian wears a jerkin secured by braided cord ties
Personal Trinkets:
Rabbit's foot (Lucky Charm)
These take many shapes, but the most common are symbolic religious symbols that a pious priest has touched or carved heads of ancient Gods. The rabbit’s foot is a symbol of good luck in many places of the world and is often threaded with a thin cord of leather or string
Wooden Flute
A simple wooden flute carved by Balian's father. He usually keeps it wrapped in a piece of cloth and kept away.
Short History:
Born to a master woodsman and a mill worker, Balian was taught from a young age the skills of being a woodsman. Even as a young lad he had a knack for navigation and survival skills. Balian is not shy of hard labor having worked all his young life. He spent all of this younger life in and around the midlands village he was born to, working and training. At age eight he was shown how to use a bow by his father for the first time and took to it like a duck to water, swordplay followed in an effort to teach his son how to defend himself if ever the need arose (as much as he did not want a violent life for Balian). It was in his teens that Balian decided he did not want to suffer the bondage of serfdom or peasantry his whole life but neither did he want the privilege associated with nobility.
At age seventeen, Balian left his village starting on a journey to see as much of the world as he could and to live off of the land. Before he left his father presented him with a parting gift a wooden flute carved by himself. Leaving the village of Vale that day was the last time he saw his parents. After some five years travelling, Balian returned to Vale only to discover his father had succumbed to a sudden illness two years previous and his mother so stricken with grief at the loss of her son and now husband had hanged herself in the mill where she worked. With no ties to his birthplace he set off once again after a short respite and since has traveled, stopping from time-to-time for short respites in towns, villages and cities he would come across. He made sure never to allow himself to become too attached to people or towns always making it easier when time came to leave. However, Balian has at least one trusted friend in many of the different steads from South to North, relying on these as his source of information and news when he does stop.
For a few years the ranger traveled with another, a woman by the name of Morrigan. Black hair, blue eyes and pale skin, Balian quickly became infatuated with her. During a stay at the village of Lindow they were awoken in the middle of the night by commotion, screams and cries filling the night air. A beastman warband had happened on the village in a raid, Balian pleaded with Morrigan to barricade herself indoors and once she agreed took himself outside into the middle of it all with sword and bow. The ranger was knocked unconscious in combat and when he awoke in the early hours of the morning the smell of burning, smoke and death filled his nostrils. In a daze he made his way to the inn, only to find it raised to the ground. Balian fell to his knees as his cries turned to a sour roar. It is since that day the ranger has taken it upon himself to actively hunt out Beast scouting parties, occasionally joining up with bands of rangers (many of whom share similar stories) to take on larger groups. It is the element of surprise, the ability to blend in with surroundings and that they pick the battlefield (usually woodland), that give Balian and other rangers alike the advantage over unsuspecting beastmen who have often been stalked for days like prey.
Balian has been in Galloway only a short few hours although this is not his first visit to the town-stead. He has grown weary of the road and has not stopped in a town for longer than a few hours in months. |
8,679 | 245 | 1 | 2,677 | 6,563 | Sorja - Galloway
Sorja the Swift- more commonly known as Blue Fox- stretched luxuriously in his bed. For several moments, he writhed happily in bed, still attempting to find that perfect comfortable spot that had suddenly disappeared. After trying to find it and failing, he got up instead.
The Blue Fox slept relatively naked- that is, underpants and socks. He slung his bare feet over the side of the bed and staggered upright, swaying slightly before steadying. He scratched at his chest or shoulder idly as he puttered around his room, collecting his gear and piling it on his bed. Normally, he'd already be up, but yesterday was a good day.
And the fact that his 'day' is someone else's 'night.' He's a major night owl, and it always works to his advantage. It's a little obvious, after all, walking around in broad daylight in black and blue- he wasn't convicted or a criminal, technically, but he didn't want everyone to see him.
So, throwing on his tunic and leggings, fitting all his silky-smooth clothing in everywhere to make sure his appearance was perfect as always, he strode out his door to the candlelight of the tavern's upstairs corridor. He was, technically speaking, an honest working man. He was given a deal, he completed his side of the deal, and he got paid. And because there was no evidence of any wrongdoing on his part, even if an expensive, rare necklace recently went missing or a man was found dead in his sleep, he was free to walk around. Not that the common guard won't harass him and try to bring him in for questioning, simply because they believe he's the murderer and thief.
Which he was. They just couldn't prove it. That, and the higher-ups rather liked him, since they gave him half his contracts. Their underlings couldn't do much because of this.
Descending down into the common room of the inn, he gave a nod to his distant relative, the innkeeper, and took his normal seat on the far side of the room, adjacent to the door, in the rather lit corner- there was a torch there, see. Having sat down, he waited for the innkeeper's daughter to bring his usual fare of stew, bread, and special mead. Oh, he loved mead- but not ale. Mead was smoother, with honey. Ale was crude, rougher, like beer.
He paid the innkeeper's daughter with the proper coin, his usual silver tip, and a flash of a smile. And as usual, the girl smiled back, cheeks rosy, and headed back off to help her father. He didn't like many people, but the innkeeper and his family was the exception.
As he dug into his meal, eating carefully and quickly- not spilling a single drop, or any more than a couple crumbs- he listened in on everyone else, and surveyed the room.
More talk of crazy things, and two newcomers. He recognized everyone else- he wouldn't take contracts that involved the people who frequented or occasionally came to the tavern. These two are new.
He eyed them, subtly, as he ate. The torch highlighted him, of sorts, but also made his less dangerous. Anyone could see him; they'd certainly note that he rarely, if ever, looked up, and wouldn't think that he'd be watching everyone just the same. | Name: Sorja the Swift (Sor-ya)
Alias: "Blue Fox"
Age: 25
Appearance:
About 5' 4" tall, with skin that borders on chocolatey (mmm, Hershey's). While not being too terribly large, or at all physically imposing, he's wiry, he's tough, and he's trained. He has unusually dark blue eyes, with a perpetually calm and relaxed expression, however bright and clever his eyes may be.
He has mildly untamable dark brown hair, and a thin, narrow build.
Class:
Rogue/Thief/Assassin
Sorja is a fleet-footed rogue, light on his feet, with above-average instincts and reactions. He knows how to kill, how to pickpocket, how to throw, even how to use a bow, but is best with dagger or shortsword, and can move unseen in most environments and times.
Weapon(s): Two long knives- more like shortswords- that are seen in the image. They're both made of a rare black metal that has no name, because of how rare it is. He also has an assortment of throwing knives throughout his body, and four throwing axes. His shortswords have their own scabbards at either hip, but his throwing axes are over-the-shoulder, with two on each side. He uses them for both melee and ranged combat, and is known to be better with his axe than with most career archers' arrows.
Armor/Clothing: He generally wears what's commonly known as his "moody shit." Black, multi-layered silk with a layer of thicker fine cloth over it forms a light armor of sorts. Dark blue fabric- not dissimilar to his eyes- accents it, and he wears custom blue-steel armguards and greaves. |
8,680 | 245 | 2 | 904 | 2,988 | On the other side of the Tavern was raucous laughter and to one man, the true spirit of the tavern. A huge bulk of a man could be seen at one end of the table, with a small crowd gathering round. The muscular man could be seen downing an entire tankard of ale, with three empty ones beside him at the table. On the opposite side was a smaller man, who was struggling with his second drink. The game was simple, first to down five tankards wins. This man was Darius, a mercenary for Galloway, who hailed from an unknown land. When he has no work, Darius regularly stayed at the "Retired Sword Tavern". Here, Darius drinks and feasts, performing impressive feats of consumption of the fine alcohol and food, usually for money. He slammed down the forth tankard, and leant over.
"You'll want to hurry up there, lad!" He taunted playfully.
His opponent meekly put down the second tankard, and groggily dragged the third one to him. "Gimme a..." he began before he abruptly burped.
Darius merely laughed as he swiftly grabbed his final tankard, and raised it high with a cheer to the crowd before beginning to drink it. In half a minute, it was gone, and he raised his hulking arms in triumph before wiping his mouth. "That's 20 pieces." He stated. The man simply put his half full drink down, and put the money on the table. "I don't know how you do it, but you did," and with that, the man vacated his seat, taking his tankard with him, but leaving the other two. Darius picked up a coin, and flipped it up before catching it again, admiring the pattern. There was no money like this at home, and he never got money at the Pits either. Coins were okay, but if Darius didn't get a contract soon, then he'd be out of pocket real quick. He looked around, seeing no one of relative note. Everyone seemed normal, but tonight... something was a tiny bit off. His thoughts quickly went back to himself as he picked up a piece of bread he paid for before the drinking game and began to eat it, an attempt to soak up the alcohol he just consumed. Until something happened, he interacted with the small crowd he gathered, laughing and drinking the man's leftover ale with them. | Name: Darius
Age: 27
Darius stands at 6'1" and is bulky and muscular. He has brown hair and a small scraggly beard, with blue eyes. He has scars all across his body, accumulated from many battles. On his right shoulder, there is a black tattoo which is a skull with two swords crossed beneath it.
Class: Berserker
All combat is done up close, and is great at dual wielding weapons. Darius has skill with swords, axes and polearms, but lacks in weapons that require finesse. He also has a mediocre defence, which can be defeated by skill. Darius brings great strength and ferocity to battle and attacks with a furious rage.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Weapon(s):
Armor/Clothing: The light to medium armour is exactly as shown in the picture.
Personal Trinkets: None, superstition has no purpose next to battle and sword.
Short History: Darius was born to a warrior tribe of humans, who prided themselves on their solidarity and skill in combat. By age 6, Darius was able to lift his own axe. However, at the age of 12, Darius's village was raided by slavers who completely slayed village, capturing the children and women. Darius killed the two men who killed his father but was then captured and dragged away from his village, powerless as he watched the burning landscape.
He was sold on as a Pit Fighter, battling other gladiators in underground arenas. It wasn't until he was 25 when he finally escaped, rallying the other fighters in a furious charge against the slavers, killing everyone that tried to stop him from escaping. Free and alone, the barbaric gladiator travelled to the nearest place he could, Galloway. Looking for paid work as a mercenary, he spends his days in the tavern, waiting for the next time he can fight again. |
8,681 | 245 | 3 | 1,500 | 564 | . | The Characters |
8,682 | 245 | 4 | 904 | 2,988 | Balian
The ranger had not yet gone up to his room, he knew what to expect a bedroll, a bedpan and if lucky a window, perhaps a desk. Well fed earlier in the evening, consuming his share of meat, bread and ale entertainment was not planned but well provided by the mercenary, a large man winning gold crowns beating all who opposed him in a drinking competition. At some point in the evening he had felt like someone had been watching him but hadn’t been able to pinpoint who with all the other distractions in the inn. He shook it off as harmless. He had noticed that some of those who were in the tavern were certainly not the serfdom or any class of Galloway, others well armed, perhaps adventurers, warriors, a monk and even what seemed to be another ranger, female although Balian was unsure exactly.
It had grown late and Balian had been on the verge of retiring to his room for the night and awaiting for what tomorrow would bring, when the commotion began. The guards running down the street in force, lighting lanterns, it all seemed so ominous. The tolling of the town bell was when the ranger realized something was wrong although sat quietly still while other patrons began to rush around. Balian checked his quiever, bow, sword and dagger his first thought towards beastmen. Knowing what threat they posed in number began to formulate a plan. Follow the guards, and fight. Running now of course would be wiser in the interest of ones personal safety but he felt lured to the fight, almost bound.
The ranger stood and made his way towards the small group of men crowding around the window facing onto the street, tankards in hand trying to get a glimpse. He attempted to lean over them and look but when this failed ushered them out of the way, one man cursed attempting to start an argument in his drunken state until he saw the weapons at Balian’s disposal. However he hadn’t noticed the patrons rambling, instead he was looking onward down the street, not able to make out much when a second patrol of similarly armed city guardsmen trotted down the street.
“What’s out that way?” He asked one of the other patrons curiously trying to look through the window although a couple of others stood in the now open doorway of the tavern.
“Just the town cemetery, nothing but bones and dirt.” The townsman shook his head and sipped from his tankard. “Apparently built over an ancient burial ground but I’m not sure how much I-” Balian cut him off, thanking him and heading for the doorway pushing his way onto the street. | Name: Darius
Age: 27
Darius stands at 6'1" and is bulky and muscular. He has brown hair and a small scraggly beard, with blue eyes. He has scars all across his body, accumulated from many battles. On his right shoulder, there is a black tattoo which is a skull with two swords crossed beneath it.
Class: Berserker
All combat is done up close, and is great at dual wielding weapons. Darius has skill with swords, axes and polearms, but lacks in weapons that require finesse. He also has a mediocre defence, which can be defeated by skill. Darius brings great strength and ferocity to battle and attacks with a furious rage.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Weapon(s):
Armor/Clothing: The light to medium armour is exactly as shown in the picture.
Personal Trinkets: None, superstition has no purpose next to battle and sword.
Short History: Darius was born to a warrior tribe of humans, who prided themselves on their solidarity and skill in combat. By age 6, Darius was able to lift his own axe. However, at the age of 12, Darius's village was raided by slavers who completely slayed village, capturing the children and women. Darius killed the two men who killed his father but was then captured and dragged away from his village, powerless as he watched the burning landscape.
He was sold on as a Pit Fighter, battling other gladiators in underground arenas. It wasn't until he was 25 when he finally escaped, rallying the other fighters in a furious charge against the slavers, killing everyone that tried to stop him from escaping. Free and alone, the barbaric gladiator travelled to the nearest place he could, Galloway. Looking for paid work as a mercenary, he spends his days in the tavern, waiting for the next time he can fight again. |
8,683 | 245 | 5 | 2,803 | 1,032 | Eusine - Galloway, Tavern
Eusine was still wide awake when the quiet tavern seemed to be coming back to life all of a sudden. The monk didn't need much sleep, so he spent a lot of his time meditating and practicing his martial arts, as to not lose his edge. He opened the door, and in fact, there were a number of patrons walking about, pushing each other to get a look out of the window. Was something happening in the town? Maybe some sort of trouble? No, the monk thought, too quiet for that. What then?
Eusine stepped out of his room to get a better idea of what was going on. He still had no clue as for the reason of the commotion, but it seemed like a party of two, some sort of warriors by their looks, were heading outside to check out what was going on. The monk hated to stick his nose in other people's business, but what if it was beastmen after all? Was it not his duty to help out as much as he could? Eusine quickly grabbed his few possessions from his room and started running towards the exit.
If he wanted to keep up with the other two, he would have to be fast. | Name:
Balian
Age:
34
Appearance:
Balian stands at 5"10, his build is somewhere between slim and lean. Grey eyes chestnut brown hair and face almost always stubbled, his appearance is often seen as striking. His eyes lack life, probably from years spent on the road, only ever stopping for brief respites in towns and villages that he passed. Notable features are a small scar on his chin and skin tested by the elements.
Class:
Ranger
-Bow & Blade Ranger: Can handle bladed weapons as well, allowing them to defend themselves against approaching enemies or close in for the kill. Ranged is preferred style of combat.
Alignment:
Neutral Good
Weapon(s):
Armor/Clothing:
As seen in picture. Also clad in a fine linen shirt, dark woolen hose and soft travel-worn leather boots, over his shirt Balian wears a jerkin secured by braided cord ties
Personal Trinkets:
Rabbit's foot (Lucky Charm)
These take many shapes, but the most common are symbolic religious symbols that a pious priest has touched or carved heads of ancient Gods. The rabbit’s foot is a symbol of good luck in many places of the world and is often threaded with a thin cord of leather or string
Wooden Flute
A simple wooden flute carved by Balian's father. He usually keeps it wrapped in a piece of cloth and kept away.
Short History:
Born to a master woodsman and a mill worker, Balian was taught from a young age the skills of being a woodsman. Even as a young lad he had a knack for navigation and survival skills. Balian is not shy of hard labor having worked all his young life. He spent all of this younger life in and around the midlands village he was born to, working and training. At age eight he was shown how to use a bow by his father for the first time and took to it like a duck to water, swordplay followed in an effort to teach his son how to defend himself if ever the need arose (as much as he did not want a violent life for Balian). It was in his teens that Balian decided he did not want to suffer the bondage of serfdom or peasantry his whole life but neither did he want the privilege associated with nobility.
At age seventeen, Balian left his village starting on a journey to see as much of the world as he could and to live off of the land. Before he left his father presented him with a parting gift a wooden flute carved by himself. Leaving the village of Vale that day was the last time he saw his parents. After some five years travelling, Balian returned to Vale only to discover his father had succumbed to a sudden illness two years previous and his mother so stricken with grief at the loss of her son and now husband had hanged herself in the mill where she worked. With no ties to his birthplace he set off once again after a short respite and since has traveled, stopping from time-to-time for short respites in towns, villages and cities he would come across. He made sure never to allow himself to become too attached to people or towns always making it easier when time came to leave. However, Balian has at least one trusted friend in many of the different steads from South to North, relying on these as his source of information and news when he does stop.
For a few years the ranger traveled with another, a woman by the name of Morrigan. Black hair, blue eyes and pale skin, Balian quickly became infatuated with her. During a stay at the village of Lindow they were awoken in the middle of the night by commotion, screams and cries filling the night air. A beastman warband had happened on the village in a raid, Balian pleaded with Morrigan to barricade herself indoors and once she agreed took himself outside into the middle of it all with sword and bow. The ranger was knocked unconscious in combat and when he awoke in the early hours of the morning the smell of burning, smoke and death filled his nostrils. In a daze he made his way to the inn, only to find it raised to the ground. Balian fell to his knees as his cries turned to a sour roar. It is since that day the ranger has taken it upon himself to actively hunt out Beast scouting parties, occasionally joining up with bands of rangers (many of whom share similar stories) to take on larger groups. It is the element of surprise, the ability to blend in with surroundings and that they pick the battlefield (usually woodland), that give Balian and other rangers alike the advantage over unsuspecting beastmen who have often been stalked for days like prey.
Balian has been in Galloway only a short few hours although this is not his first visit to the town-stead. He has grown weary of the road and has not stopped in a town for longer than a few hours in months. |
8,684 | 245 | 6 | 1,500 | 564 | Sophia Pax
Sophia laid several silver coins on the counter as she paid for a room for the night and a mug of wine. Before she even got her wine, the town bell began ringing. She sat at the counter for a moment as she thought whether or not to act. She had not attachment to these towns people. As the innkeeper brought her the mug, Sophia got up. She grabbed her bow and moved out of the inn to join the town defense. She could not stand by and just let innocents fall if she could help it. She also would not be able to sleep if beastmen started destroying the town. | The Characters |
8,685 | 245 | 7 | 2,803 | 1,032 | Balian
Balian took note of those following him as he traversed through the town streets, following the guards. There was an eerie atmosphere in Galloway and the ranger was glad he would not be alone in confronting what awaited them. A Beastman horde was irrational, he had come to this conclusion and now was curious. Whatever it was they were getting themselves into was surely not to be taken lightly with the amount of attention it had drawn from the state soldiers who watched over the town.
It seemed like forever they had been running, anticipation killing Balian when the noise of commotion filled the night air. He drew his bow as the guards slowed up pace, women, men and children running frantically away from the area, pushing past guards a couple tripping and hurting themselves in the process. "What's going on here?" Balian placed his palm on a guards arm, grabbing his attention.
"I don't know..." The guard looked anxious, "There's talk of the dead rising from their grave, unable to be shaken... The more of us that fall, the more of them rise and apparently they reanimate when they've been struck down!" It was obvious to the ranger that this man was not one of the state soldiers, just a conscript, probably a farmer or prisoner. They didn't have as much armor as the state soldiers who filled their ranks in the crowd. Balian thought this strange, it was unusual for a town to have conscripts except in time of war and as far as he was aware, there was no war going on right now or had the political upheaval reached a new level? No. He would have heard about it by now. The undead? It looked like the rumors were true, it came as a shock to the ranger, the thought of the undead sent a shiver through his body and made the hairs on his arms stand to attention. Just as it was all beginning to sink in an older man with a fantastic beard and mustache, white as snow, armored like the regular state soldiers but with a plume of blue feathers on his helmet began to speak, obviously a commanding officer of some sort.
"Right boys! We've got a shit storm on our hands here. I don't care much for your feelings. Now is the time to draw on your courage, we have to hold these bastards 'til morning!" It seemed as if he was about to go on but his attention was drawn by the first few undead stragglers, splintered from their group. He looked back at the men with him, "The time is now!"
The heavy bell toll continued to resound around the city and for a few moments the character of this commanding officer had drowned out the commotion and panic that surrounded them, it all began to flood back in and as the ranger watched the undead he noticed how they moved quickly, fiercely but still managed to keep a sluggish look to them. The level of decomposition varied but the majority of the dead before them were mostly bone. A small child, seperated from his parents came into view, running as best a toddler can screaming for his mother or father, a bear held in one hand for dear life. Balian's eyes widened, knocking an arrow he forcibly tried to push past the soldiers whose attention was elsewhere, however it wasn't easy to get through the armored guard and the ranger found himself being pushed back as two of the skeletal beings closed in on the child, still desperately waddling away, screaming and crying louder now. Not able to push passed, Balian cursed and loosed the arrow his aim thrown off not able to get a clear shot, the arrow flew past the first of the undead taking chase on the boy, snapping in two as it made contact a wall. The ranger cursed again, louder this time and loosed another arrow, still unable to get a good shot this one however pierced the skull, the bones dropped to the ground in a pile but the second skeleton had caught up to the child and now was on top of the boy. "The child!" He roared as he finally broke out of the group of soldiers, drawing his sword and running towards the boy and the undead. By now the kid's cries were frantic but growing weaker.
The ranger let out a mighty cry as he brought his sword in an upward swing, severing the skeleton at the spine, the bones crumpled to the ground and despite the growing horde that spilled from the side streets, Balian lowered his sword. The boy was dead... An overwhelming sadness filled him. This was not right, he knelt down on one knee and wiped the snot and spit from the child's face, closing his eyes as the expression was haunting. Punching the ground, Balian looked up and saw they were almost upon him, he stood to his feet once more and raised his sword. | Name:
Balian
Age:
34
Appearance:
Balian stands at 5"10, his build is somewhere between slim and lean. Grey eyes chestnut brown hair and face almost always stubbled, his appearance is often seen as striking. His eyes lack life, probably from years spent on the road, only ever stopping for brief respites in towns and villages that he passed. Notable features are a small scar on his chin and skin tested by the elements.
Class:
Ranger
-Bow & Blade Ranger: Can handle bladed weapons as well, allowing them to defend themselves against approaching enemies or close in for the kill. Ranged is preferred style of combat.
Alignment:
Neutral Good
Weapon(s):
Armor/Clothing:
As seen in picture. Also clad in a fine linen shirt, dark woolen hose and soft travel-worn leather boots, over his shirt Balian wears a jerkin secured by braided cord ties
Personal Trinkets:
Rabbit's foot (Lucky Charm)
These take many shapes, but the most common are symbolic religious symbols that a pious priest has touched or carved heads of ancient Gods. The rabbit’s foot is a symbol of good luck in many places of the world and is often threaded with a thin cord of leather or string
Wooden Flute
A simple wooden flute carved by Balian's father. He usually keeps it wrapped in a piece of cloth and kept away.
Short History:
Born to a master woodsman and a mill worker, Balian was taught from a young age the skills of being a woodsman. Even as a young lad he had a knack for navigation and survival skills. Balian is not shy of hard labor having worked all his young life. He spent all of this younger life in and around the midlands village he was born to, working and training. At age eight he was shown how to use a bow by his father for the first time and took to it like a duck to water, swordplay followed in an effort to teach his son how to defend himself if ever the need arose (as much as he did not want a violent life for Balian). It was in his teens that Balian decided he did not want to suffer the bondage of serfdom or peasantry his whole life but neither did he want the privilege associated with nobility.
At age seventeen, Balian left his village starting on a journey to see as much of the world as he could and to live off of the land. Before he left his father presented him with a parting gift a wooden flute carved by himself. Leaving the village of Vale that day was the last time he saw his parents. After some five years travelling, Balian returned to Vale only to discover his father had succumbed to a sudden illness two years previous and his mother so stricken with grief at the loss of her son and now husband had hanged herself in the mill where she worked. With no ties to his birthplace he set off once again after a short respite and since has traveled, stopping from time-to-time for short respites in towns, villages and cities he would come across. He made sure never to allow himself to become too attached to people or towns always making it easier when time came to leave. However, Balian has at least one trusted friend in many of the different steads from South to North, relying on these as his source of information and news when he does stop.
For a few years the ranger traveled with another, a woman by the name of Morrigan. Black hair, blue eyes and pale skin, Balian quickly became infatuated with her. During a stay at the village of Lindow they were awoken in the middle of the night by commotion, screams and cries filling the night air. A beastman warband had happened on the village in a raid, Balian pleaded with Morrigan to barricade herself indoors and once she agreed took himself outside into the middle of it all with sword and bow. The ranger was knocked unconscious in combat and when he awoke in the early hours of the morning the smell of burning, smoke and death filled his nostrils. In a daze he made his way to the inn, only to find it raised to the ground. Balian fell to his knees as his cries turned to a sour roar. It is since that day the ranger has taken it upon himself to actively hunt out Beast scouting parties, occasionally joining up with bands of rangers (many of whom share similar stories) to take on larger groups. It is the element of surprise, the ability to blend in with surroundings and that they pick the battlefield (usually woodland), that give Balian and other rangers alike the advantage over unsuspecting beastmen who have often been stalked for days like prey.
Balian has been in Galloway only a short few hours although this is not his first visit to the town-stead. He has grown weary of the road and has not stopped in a town for longer than a few hours in months. |
8,686 | 246 | 0 | 222 | 43 | 8:30 am, Sunday. - Good morning Suncrest! Seems like this dawn's early drizzle has completely passed in a jiffy, making way to this fairly sunny Sunday morning. By afternoon light clouds are to be expected but worry not friends the day will go on in it's usual sunshiny spirit. And something for all you early birdies out there, to top off this lazy wonderful morning.
The compact radio echoed faintly through the hallways, distinctly coming from the apartment's empty concierge area. Clear enough to be heard within the building yet just as mild to be unobtrusive. This was a typical Sunday morning in Suncrest Heights. During these days people would most likely stay in, or be out all day so it's not unusual that the Sundays are specifically tranquil at these hours at least.
Vee Liem
Vivian's shift ended at about 7:30 this morning. Work that evening was at it's usual, a little quiet than most but aside from the occasional house calls her evening was a long 8 hour of pure serenity. That's not always a good thing, as this kind of mood easily drag her out as opposed to actually working on emergencies. The adrenaline mostly keeps her on her toes, but that evening she only managed to steal a long undisturbed nap. She did have a really good nap, leastways.
On the way home she managed to get herself a cup of coffee at the convenience store near work. Wouldn't be her first choice but the buzz works. Her hair messily tied up, a cup in hand while her jacket slung to her forearm, and her duffle bag over her shoulder, as per her usual post work mien. Regardless of that nap, she looked like she had a tough night. A quick shower always does the trick, hoping no one at this hour has already beat her to it.
Over the hubbub of the morning radio she heard Lourdes, unsurprisingly, was already up and about. And unlike most mornings, she was busily carrying boxes that looks to be a bunch of dusty old knick knacks, hauling one after the other, out of her apartment then placing it at the side of the hallway. Vee paused for a moment to observed her curiously. Soon as Lourdes sees her, sharp brows raising and a cig between her lips, Vee now felt the obligation of giving a polite greeting.
"Morning." Lourdes continued lining up the boxes on the sides. Vee glimpsed over the pile and could make out some snowglobes, old cd's, board games, metal hangers among other seemingly unimportant things. "What's all these for?" she queried.
"Thought I'd do a little Sunday cleaning. Mostly useless junk left by the previous tenants, which I kept under my storage all these years." she took a huff of her probably fifth cigarette. It was a bit too early but then again nothing is ever too early for Lourdes. " I plan on getting rid of em. Sell it to some millennial novelty shop or whatever. It's only gathered dust in storage for the past years. Hey, why don't you go ahead and take a some. It won't be much use to me because I already checked everything."
"Thanks. But I'll pass." Vee was never the type to hoard stuff, trying to keep things as minimalist as possible. Besides, who's to know the original owners could probably be dead or is a convicted axe murderer. Not that she's also the type to believe in that kind of thing, it's an eerie thought still. Lourdes returned her an apathetic look, and just went on with her business while casually changing the subject" Have you eaten?"
"Ah. I haven't."
"Well make sure you don't forget to this time." She voiced out concernedly. Vee resided long enough in Suncrest to know Lourdes is a kind and caring person on the inside, her bad habits may lead people to believe otherwise but that just on first impressions. Vivian acknowledges her concern, and after that short encounter, she headed made her way to her apartment door.
Dropping her stuff on the sofa, she made a quick detour to the fridge as per her land lady's request. Made herself some toast whilst distracted on her phone, elbows leaning on the counter while she lodges a piece of buttered toast in her mouth. The scrolling bored her instantly, there was nothing much to see other than the same everyday drivel. At times she wonders why she even bothered making a social media account, she doesn't have that much friends to begin with. The real kind. Not that she can't but more like she couldn't.
Vivian has yet to challenge herself in breaking her predictable workday routine. She would leave for work at eleven in the evening, go home at seven in the morning, grab a cup of black on the way, and go directly to her apartment, take a shower and doze off to bed. Social interactions are just mostly in between and sometimes non existent. It's like she's living in her own little version of Groundhog Day and is just completely ok with it.
The day she decided to get people to live with her, Vee had to enforce herself to adapt, for better or worse. They can get spontaneous at times but not on the annoying-unbearable level, though personally at times it tends to go there. She was never used to sharing her personal space with anybody let alone to complete strangers. That aside there's not much else to say, after all it's only been less than a few weeks. Suffice to say living with roommates have been more or less, tolerable. Nothing majorly daunting so far and hoped they can keep it that way.
In a short moment she finds herself deep into the abyss of her own thoughts, spaced out in a general direction while chewing her breakfast in a long drawn motion. She considers what to do with her weekend. Being barely drained from work, she might take up the chance on doing something different after all, at least just for today. | Full Name| Vivian Jean Liem
Nickname| Vee, Vivian, Vivi
Gender| Female
Age| 26
Birthday| August 15
Job/Education| EMT/ Paramedic
How long have you been staying in Suncrest?| A year and a half
About
Appearance|
Vee follows a certain religion when defining her personal style, and that is not going beyond the comfort of buttoned up shirts and a pair of faded Levi's, unless it's a special occasion. While inside the apartment she'd be wearing glasses, mostly she wears contacts when going out. You'll rarely see her wear glasses beyond the confines of her apartment. Vee's not really the type to put an incredible amount of thought and effort on clothing, as she would always choose practicality in her everyday routine.
Unwaveringly standing at 5'7, Vee exhibits a confident posture, which one could agree to be a reflection of her personality. Her job ideally requires her to stay fit, and while she has a slim frame her body leans towards more on the athletic side. Her appearance evidently reveals much of her ethnicity ; brown eyes, dark hair and olive skin, and a defined jawline, which she all inherited from her father's side of the family.
Interests|
- Reading
- Coffee
- Spoken word poetries
- Cleaning
- Theatre shows
- Getting busy with work
Fears|
- Driving
- Having to see people die in front of her
- Emotional confrontations
Sexuality| Bisexual
Personality
Vivian's always the type to go by the books, may it be in the literal, or figurative sense of the term. She finds it easier to have something to follow, and would rather not stray away from the borders. All throughout highschool and now, she'd always been described a 'square' and every time they do point it out she'll make an effort to prove them she's not an entirely boring person, no matter how many (futile) attempts it took her. But that certain attribute comes with its benefits, however, as she has an unbreakable determination and focus to follow her objectives, always in a meticulous step by step process. If she's given a job she gets it done fast and terrifyingly precise.
With this she may come off as a bit controlling, in the anal-retentive spectrum, as it bothers her to a great degree when one thing is amiss no matter how small that may be. She can be fairly social, only if you chance her to be in the mood on some days. An introvert, most of the time she keeps to herself and minds her own business but is more or less pretty laid back when holding conversations. Vee has trouble in dealing with emotional situations. More so to the other person, that could make the situation either, ten times worse or just plain awkward. If she were to give advice on people, she'd go straight to the point and may not even realize that she can come off a bit strong and inconsiderate, though truly she just means to help.
History
Biography|
Before she moved out of her family home, Vivian has lived in a quiet and unattentive household. Though raised all her life under a wealthy lifestyle, her parents most of the time leave her be together with her older brother and is usually taken under the care of a housekeeper. It can be assumed that she has a pretty distant relationship with her family, and during her younger years she and her brother don't get along well so in a sense, she pretty much grew up alone.
To make up for it however, she would look for a way to distract herself and mostly she gives a lot of her focus on her studies. It was easier for her to have something to follow, may it be from a page in a book or what the teacher tells her to. Though in slight truth a part of her is afraid to express, fearing that she would not satisfy, and disappoint the people who have high expectations of her.
After graduating and passing her training exams, she moved to her brother's old studio in Suncrest, a close distance away to her workplace. And recently, exactly a year after she moved in her father was caught and arrested for embezzling the company's money.
Her rent was still named under her father's bank account and with that, Vee had to make another means of acquiring cash. Her Paramedics job was not enough to cover it, so she decided to have her space rented,
as it was large enough to accommodate a few lodgers.
A Memory|
First Paramedic job. A car accident on a deadly curb heading to Washington. Vee recalls a surge of adrenaline, as they fish out the guy and his young daughter off the mangled car wreck. He was helplessly yelling for her daughter as they both grasp for dear life. His legs were broken, bending on the opposite direction. The whole place reeked of blood and gasoline. It was one of those memories where she remembered being overcome with intense terror. It was only a matter of time till they lose them both. Sadly the kid did not make it the next day.
Struggles|
Vee is having a hard time going out of her comfort zone though she does not make it obviously known. Currently she puts too much of her time in work, aside from being cooped up in the apartment all day. Secretly she had been pursuing her writing hobby, making her own poetry pieces in the hopes of one day growing the balls to pitch it in The Rabbit Hole events, though her embarrassment and insecurity overwhelms her courage.
Family|
Father: Andreas Liem, a businessman from Jakarta. Both father and daughter never really shared a wholesome relationship. Vee considers him a stranger, more than anything. Was arrested for embezzlement three months ago.
Mother: Catherine Liem (nee Bachman), a not so famous socialite from LA. A trophy wife to Andreas. They have a neutral relationship, Catherine would make calls to her once a month though they never really have the time, or bother most like it, to catch up.
Brother: Vincent Liem, older brother who works as a freelance artist, she used to hate his guts. They developed a friendship right after she moved out, staying a few months with him in his studio until he later moved out to Jakarta to pursue more of his artistic endeavors.
Theme Song:
Extras:
- Hangs out at The Rabbit Hole regularly. |
8,687 | 246 | 1 | 1,313 | 1,439 | Jeanne Croft
There was, as there was every single morning, a whirring sound coming from room 4G. Jeanne watched, bleary eyed, as cherries and vanilla extract were whirled around and sliced into itty-bitty liquid chunks. She popped the lid off of her blender, easily her best buying decision she had made in a long time, and added milk, and then hot coffee. Then another whirl in the blender, and she tipped the entire thing out into a mason jar, a hole through the lid and a straw through the hole.
She drank the entire tart, lukewarm mess in three long gulps, before sitting down on the floor and thinking of nothing much in particular.
Every weekend was the same. Work her ass off on Saturday to make sure she had no work to do on Sunday, then mope around on Sunday because she had no work to do. It was quite the dull routine, but Jeanne was excellent at doing things over and over again pointlessly. It was why she was such a good student.
She hauled herself up and slotted another pod of coffee into her machine, before sticking an actual cup underneath it and letting it fill up slowly. She carried the blender-jug-thing and the mason jar over to her sink, where she flicked on the hot water and pulled out washing up liquid.
She hated the fact that everything she did created dirt. She wanted to, one day, experience a day when she had not made a mess, but alas, that was impossible, because she had to make her goddamn bed every morning.
When she had washed up, she towelled off her hands and put the wet crockery onto her drying rack, before walking over to her fridge and getting out milk and cereal. Yes, she kept cereal in the fridge. It was convenient. She carried them over to her cupboard and took her coffee off, popping in two sweetner tabs and stirring. No milk.
Cereal in hand and coffe in her other, she walked back to her bedroom and sat down at her desk, shaking the mouse to wake it up off of sleep mode. Last night's room was still on her desktop, but nobody was on it. Obviously, since she had specifically closed it. The donate jar still wiggled though, and she clicked on it to see how much she had made.
Seventeen dollars. It was something.
She spooned cereal into her face, and opened up Facebook, then youtube. Nothing new on either. Desperately, she opened up twitch, but nobody she was subbed to was streaming.
Fuck. She might have to interact with other people. | Full Name::
Jeanne Gorgina Croft
Nickname:
Jeanne, (To most people) JJ, (To friends) Georgie, (To her SO/Family) G-J (Nobody calls her this.) She's pretty straight-laced.
Gender:
Female
Age:
22
Birthday:
She has one.
Job/Education:
She works at a pharmacutical labratory doing cosmetic tests in Washington DC, as well as small time modelling jobs. Any rumours of her having a cam site are FALSE AND WRONG and should be dismissed. Any viewing of said camsite is equally FALSE AND WRONG, and the person is actually her twin sister. Any rumours she doesn't have a twin sister is FALSE AND WRONG.
Room Number:
4G
Time in Suncrest:
Just over a month. She's kept to herself too, so she barely knows anyone.
Appearance:
Jeanne is not someone that cares much about their appearance. Whilst working, she obviously has her hair tightly secured and wears a lab coat/goggles, but underneath that she tends to wear what she wears litterally all the time: a t-shirt and yoga pants. It's pretty comfy, and she doesn't care what people think. She has no tattoos, but has three pericings on both of her ears, one in her nose, and one in her belly button. If she puts a stud inside is quite a different matter. She also has a nasty chemical burn on her left thigh, which she doesn't like to talk about.
Interests:
Films: ]Particularly cult classics. Jeanne is a massive cinema buff, and she absolutely adores chilling out in front of the TV watching a film.
EDM Music:Jeanne bought a set of expensive headphones specifically so she could get better sound quality for her music. Her music player is filled with The Prodigy, Pendulum, Pegboard Nerds, Knife Party and far more.
Reading: Jeanne will devour literature, make no mistake. Any book within reach will be practically inhaled by her, and she has a far-ranging taste in literature. And very strong opinions too.
Fears:
Lab accidents: She really doesn't like talking about this one, but she is insanely cautious when it comes to anything in a lab.
Going blind: One of her reoccurring and most primal fears, not helped by a prescription that seemingly changes at will.
Centipedes: Spiders, she can handle. Anything with that many legs is not to be trusted.
Sexuality:
Anything. She's been pretty asexual for most of her life, and it's really only now she's found out how much she likes intimate relationships.
Theme Song:
A Memory
Possibly the memory that sticks in her head the most is when she realised that she could make cash in the adult industry. She's a pretty shy girl who never really thought she looked that good (low self esteem is fun,) but suddenly random strangers gave her money for jilling off?
Biography:
Born an only child to a Russian immigrant and a Washington local, Jeanne didn't have an easy childhood. Her father worked as a mechanic- a damn good one mind, but still a mechanic, and her mother a nurse at an ER clinic, and on the time she was off, she worked odd jobs- whatever was paying, which was mostly maid work. Determined to earn enough cash for her parents when they were older, Jeanne was a dedicated student, and was willing to plunge herself deep into debt in order to one day crawl out.
She works as a student of medicine and virology, with hopes of joining the CDC or MSF, although for now she'd be happy to pass her exams and make it as a qualified doctor and virologist. Since the local community college isn't great when it comes to her field, she has to make a commute into the city proper almost every day. Rent's cheap though, so she's glad to sacrifice some sleep for some security. She does modelling on the side, although she's recently scored a small contract with a glasses firm, which she has fingers crossed will work out.
When she's out and about, she nearly always has two things in her hands- a smoothie, and papers. Or a research book. Or a tablet with research papers on it. Or just a medical textbook. Honestly, if she isn't studying, she's either sick, or too tired and her brain too numb to actually study.
Apparently she was cool. Anyone want to be friends with a geeky med student? |
8,688 | 246 | 2 | 1,036 | 76 | Bryan Alexanders
Saturday night was all but a blur, the club WAS LIT filled from corner to corner with potential. Women lined the walls but it was the ones on the dancefloor that had him most excited cause if she could drink then dance to club music and didn’t puke that was an amazing start to an even better evening and Bryan had his sights set on the raven haired beauty. The two exchanged a few words and Bry started dancing his ass off. She looked him up and down and gave him the smile and bit her lip. Seeing this let Bry know she was gonna be fun.
That was about all he could piece together from that night.
Waking to the hum of the morning weather forecast that he had grown used to. Without her knowing she had helped Bryan stick to his code of no women beyond ten in his bed. He was about to rise until he heard the words that make him cringe “Come snuggle baby.” Fighting back the intense urge to projectile vomit, he answered with ease.
“Can’t, got to take care of some stuff today” which wasn’t a total lie he just didn’t know what stuff he had to take care of just yet.
“But its Sunday” she whined and flipped her hair back allowing the bedsheet to slip low and reveal the reason he bought her home in the first place. Her piercing green eyes stared at him intently almost as though she was trying to telepathically change his mind. She wouldn’t be the first though and odds are she wouldn’t be the last. Bryan however wasn’t the type to have his code broken for anyone least of all a No Strings Attached lay.
Bryan eyed her up and down and knew what had to be done. “ok Vanessa we can snuggle” He said purposely calling her another woman’s name. In actuality he knew her name was Cynthia but her reaction was perfect.
“Cynthia! My name is Cynthia” she said as she grew irritated
“That’s what I said wasn’t it?” Bryan asked
“FUCK NO YOU CALLED ME VANESSA THAT MUST BE ONE OF YOUR OTHER BITCHES, YOU NOW WHAT I DON’T NEED THIS SHIT ITS TOO EARLY IN THE MORNING.” She said as she got up put on her clothes and stormed.
“no wait don’t go please stay” Bryan said in a monochromatic tone. As he hopped out of bed and headed to the shower to ready for the morning. He knew his roommate heard, and like bryan got used to the morning announcements his roomie had hopefully gotten used to the angry slamming of the door in the morning of the ladies that wanted more. That just wasn’t Bryans scene, though he had nothing against relationships for other people it just wasn’t for him. Alas th day has been begun and there had to be something to do. | Alrighty, here you go. ^^
"Don't judge me I was born to be awesome not perfect"
Bryan Alexanders
Name| Bryan Emerson Alexanders
Nickname| Bry, b-ry, The Lovable asshole, THEE Wingman,
Gender| Male
Age| 26
Birthday| February 7, 1991
Job/Education| Jr. Marketing Manager, Bachelors in marketing
Room| 4D
How long have you been staying in Suncrest?| Just under a month
About
Appearance|
Bryan bears very distinguished features starting with his 6ft stature and chestnut skin color to his naturally defined muscle tone that he normally keeps hidden under his form fitting Dress Shirts. His style of clothing is simple...to him at least "a suit for any ocassion and an occasion for any suit." That is Bryan's motto his life mantra if you will. He does have a tattoo of "Black Panthers logo" on his chesteven he doent know the full story behind it he was certain he was drunk when it happened though.
Interests|
Friends, Bryan is very loyal to his friends often times he is the life of the outtings normally drawing attention to the table when at a club or even trying to hook his single friends up. Women, Since he was young Bryan had found himself loving the opposite sex thanks to his older sister Amarra who coaxed him out of his shell and got him talking. and Fun, these include but are by no means limited too...Laser tag, Paint balling, speed dating, going to the gym, hanging out and making plans at the local watering hole.
Fears|
Bryan needs people, very needy in fact most dont know this about him because it is something he keeps well hidden behind a smile or funny one liner but Bryan suffers with depression and anxiety. Bryan feels the need to make every situation a happy one and when things are going to a dark type of place he handles it with laughter. or at least tries his best to.
Sexuality| Heterosexual
Personality|
Funny outgoing and very caring these are the ingredients chosen to create the worlds greatest wingman. That's Bryan in a nutshell there is nothing he wouldn't do for his friends. And always quick with the joke to lighten the mood he believes that if you can make people laugh then you can make the situation brighter. Bryan, while he cant deal with heavy emotional situations will suck it up in a one on one convo its hard for him to drop his guard but he will if it means helping a friend.
History
Biography|
Bryan grew up in a damn good household in Queens, New York his mother was a lawyer his father a Doctor and his older sister was was an aspiring model.
Needless to say the good looking genes didn't skip him but he knew he needed something more than good looks he just hadn't discovered what gift was given to him from the proverbial gene pool. His father wasn't distant so much as always busy but made sure to spend time with him when the time allowed. His mothers story was just the same she was always busy and stayed on him about school and made sure to be in his ACADEMIC life as much as she could. So it was pointless to say that he was SUPER close to his parents it was more of an in passing type of relationship. His sister on the other hand had basically raised him and gave him all the MORAL support he needed to succeed and helped to pull him out of his shell that he had started to develop due to not really having anyone. Bryan couldn't help thinking that he was burden on her, because instead of spending time with him she could be doing things for herself but, She had saved Bryan and he had come to depend on her until she showed him how to dress and talk to girls and when he made out for the 1st time all bets were off. That was effectively how he started his high school experience.
High school was a blur to be honest it was a whirlwind of making the grades that had let him shine through and blaze through year after year. Although he was beyond smart unlike most of the smart kids he wasn't bullied that could have been due in part to his naturally muscular physique. Truth be told though Bryan was a comedian but unless you sat down and got to know him you could never tell. he always had most people he met smiling or laughing for some reason or another and could always lighten the mood with a quick quip or random comment.
College Life For Bryan was where he really had begun to blossom This was the place in which he truly found himself from his style to his voice to his form of expression he took everything he had learned and saw from his past experiences and mashed them together and in the hot fires of college did Bry emerge he no longer required help with women he knew better how to balance social and school life. His style of dress went from the basics of what his sister showed him to casual suits and dress suits and ties to just becoming an all around smooth talker that had charmed his way under many a skirt the only problem was they always wanted to stay and cuddle and all that, and it wasn't really his scene at the time. For the right person though he would be willing to push beyond his own boundaries and maybe give the after sex thing a shot. Again thanks in part to his sister Bryan knew how to shop his ass off.
A Memory|
When Bryan was 9 the family took a trip to Universal studios and had got seperated from his family his sister most of all and when he couldnt find her he had begun to panic unsure of what was happening to him, person after person had asked him what was wrong but it only made the situation worse. the whole time this was happening he could only think that he was being abandoned for being too needy. this was the stage of his first Anxiety attack.
Struggles|
Dealing with Anxiety over the years, Losing his sister,
Family|
Father: Gabriel Alexanders
Mother: Felecia Alexanders |
8,689 | 246 | 3 | 1,570 | 4,031 | Without having a driver's license buying groceries was way more of chore than it had to be. Barbara was learning this lesson the hard way this Sunday morning as she gripped two plastic bags in one hand and balanced another paper bag filled on her hip. On top of the bag laid her mail, including this month's rent. Barbara was very reliant when it came to her bills and payments. She might not eat for a couple days or do laundry for a week or two but the girl always made sure her dues were paid.
Walking thorough the entry way she was met with the presence of one of the newer residents she had noticed came in within the last month. She smiled and nodded, but didn't stop to talk, as her hands were full and she'd rather not melt the ice cream she bought over small talk. She also wasn't really dressed to impress that morning but she wasn't a total slob either, a tad of make up but her dirty hair done in a braid from a few nights before. Babs rested her bags on the floor so she could get the feeling back in her fingers for a moment before walking down the hallway to the elevator.
Arriving to the elevator she pressed her slender fingers onto the button several times. She knew one press would be enough but several presses seemed to make it go faster- even though it never did. As the door opened, she walked in. She pressed the key for the 4th floor and leaned back against the cold railing inside the elevator shaft. Babs shrugged her tired body, her arm tightening around her bag as the doors reopened. She fiddled with the keys on her key chain that hung from her book bag- as she opened the door with her hip. A strong hint of mint would hit the nose of the young girl and any one within that floor as the door opened for Barbara's place. She always had incense, candles, or some type of air wick type machine going so that her small place didn't reek of weed. Placing her grocery bags on the counter, Barbara proceeded in slipping off her timberlands boots and dropping her book bag into the closet opening right by the door.
Within the apartment wasn't anything too classy, Barbara had a small kitchenette with a table that could seat four people. Her living room had a large couch and television, in the living room also was a desk that held various paperwork and a camera that was taken a part into pieces. Art hung all over the wall, both bought and hand made. A small bathroom down the hallway, and Barbara's bedroom across from that. Her bedroom was fairly packed with clothes, shoes, and other accessories. A bed much larger than what she needed took up most of the space and a bedside table held a lamp and some smoking paraphernalia. If anyone asked they were sculptures from France or something.
After dropping off her stuff and putting the mail on her desk, she began putting away everything that needed to be refrigerated or put into the freezer. It seemed like it was going to be a fairly smooth day, she had gotten all her errands done in an impressive time and would have the rest of the Sunday to do exactly what you were meant to do on Sundays:
Relax. | Full Name|
Barbara Jane Mills.
Nickname|
Babs by her friends. BJ by her enemies.
Gender|
Female
Age|
Twenty Three
Birthday|
June Seventeeth. Gemini. Yikes.
Sexuality|
Heterosexual, but has been known to kiss a girl or two.
Job/Education|
Photography major at WCC. Cashier at the convenience store.
Room Number|
Room 4B
How long have you been staying in Suncrest?|
A little over a year.
About
Appearance|
Barbara is petite, standing at around Five foot three and weighing anywhere from one hundred twenty to one hundred twenty five pounds. She doesn't work out too often, but does a lot of walking and heavy lifting at work. She also does some dancing on the weekends which helps burn off the calories of the fast food she mostly eats. Babs has sandy brown hair and light blue eyes, she hates her nose but wouldn't go as far as having plastic surgery to "fix" it. Her clothing style is very much comfort over fashion. She will be mostly seen around with plain sweaters, shirts, jeans, leggings, and sometimes on a special occasion a dress or two. She loves her Timberlands- being originally from New York she has several pair and considers them a staple in any outfit. Barbara doesn't have any predominant scars or markings across her fair skinned body. She has a single pierced lobe on each side of her head and no tattoos as of yet. She plans to get one when she can save up the money for it after finishing school this summer.
Interests|
Eye for the details: Barbara loves photography as well as traditional art, she is currently majoring in Photography at the community college. She loves to draw and paint and thinks that everyone should have at least some type of creative outlet in their life.
My girl likes to part all the time: Young, dumb, and full of cu- communication! Barbara is a social butterfly. She is outgoing and makes friends pretty easily wherever she goes. She loves to go party and drink whenever she doesn't have a late night shift.
City living: Originally from Brooklyn, New York- Barbara has a love and yearning for the city life. She loves to be on the move and in the midst of whatever is going on. If she isn't invited to go somewhere and finds out about it, she will be disappointed and upset about it for months on end. She won't let you live it down, and will remind you of this any time she has a chance.
Fears|
Creepy Crawlies: Like most people, Barbara has a fear of bugs, rodents, and some reptiles. She doesn't mind looking at them from afar but after seeing a few cockroach too many- the girl decided enough is enough and wants nothing to do with any of them. She is adamant about killing them on sight and has no remorse.
You shall not pass: Failure is a big fear and constant worry of Barbara. Though her personality would dictate that she is having a good time and her smile would say she is happy she is a constant battle within herself that she isn't doing what she needs to be doing. She decided to do major in photography because of it being her passion but she knows her mother wouldn't be the proudest of her decisions.
Personality|
Easily Manipulated. Friendly. Outgoing. Caring. Stubborn.
Babs is someone that would see you eating lunch by yourself and not hesitate to walk over and keep you company. She is usually the first one to greet you and the last to tell you goodbye. Granted, she might sit down and end up eating half of your meal while she talks to you but she means well, she cares. Barbara is not dumb, but can often appear air-headed and aloof based on her social activities and her tendency to go off on a tangent of something that she is passionate about. She wants the best for everyone and herself. However, once a seed is planted in her head or heart to put you as a bad guy, it will take a lot of energy and convincing for her to think otherwise.
History
Biography|
Barbara Jane Mills was conceived in Las Vegas, Nevada. Her parents had both been on their honeymoon with their respected spouses and ended up banging each other's brains out behind Caesar's Palace, or was it a Little Caesar's pizza? Either way, the two lovebirds had put their last relationships in the past and began the whirlwind that was Brian and Diane. A couple years had gone by but as soon as the big P word slipped from doctor's mouth, Bab's father had said he had other places to be- and thanks for the good time, it was fun. He even left a "Get well soon" card on the dresser, with about nine dollars in singles.
Diane now was dumbfounded, pregnant, and all alone. She went online and met Franklin Moore(Frank), an older gentleman who was in need of a wife and had a bit of cash to spend. Work was all that Frank knew, work and the bottom of the liquor bottle. The bottles that came each and every paycheck. Despite his addiction, he climbed the ladder and got lucky with a few well known law cases. So Diane decided to leave sin city and try to find a better life with rich man Frank in Brooklyn, New York. She didn't find any greener grass, but when Barbara was born she did find out what happiness was again. The two lived in Frank's apartment, growing up together and experiencing what life had to offer without the absence of material goods.
Growing up was smooth sailing for Babs. She was well rounded, liked by most people and an average student. She eventually left home in Brooklyn and came to Washington DC, to go to college and start off her own life. She has been in and out of apartment buildings for awhile until she finally settled in Suncrest and has been working and commuting back and forth to school for the last year and a half.
A Memory|
"You talking about pizza like, you don't think I know about pizza?"
The Brooklyn raised girl retorted to her coworker as they sat together at lunch that afternoon. A look of disbelief on her face, but in a playful way. "I was raised in Brooklyn, I know about pizza. It's in the freaking water." she commented, as her coworker laughed. "Barbara you're ridiculous." she said as the two giggled. Babs continued to fold in half and eat her slice of pepperoni pizza that she had got from one of the heaters in the convenience store. It was not a very good slice but it would suffice until she could eat later. She thought about what she was going to make for dinner that night for her friends and her. It was coming up on their first anniversary of all meeting one another; which was exciting for her. For them.
She reached to her phone that sat on the table, sending a group text to them while she thought about it.
Cant wait to see u looooosers. I love you. Ttyl
Sending she looked up to her co-worker. The two exchanged friendly smiles, continuing their lunch as normal without many more words spoken between them. After finishing her pizza, she wiped her hands with an napkin and tossed the paper plate they had given her in the trash. Crumbling the greasy used napkin along with it. She went back to the table and grabbed her cellphone and walked back to her cash register where she would start again on her so called job. After a few hours of this she clocked out and went home.
Struggles|
Brian Mills: Brian Mills is Barbara's estranged father that left her mother when she was pregnant. Barbara doesn't let this effect her day to day life but she has always been interested in the man that he was, and who he became, and why he left in the first place. She would be very interested in finding and speaking to him one day. It would help her fill in the gaps of missing parts of herself.
Pill Popping: With the partying came the drinking, and with the drinking came the drugs. Barbara is known to go a little overboard sometime when it comes to these things and has a couple occasions where she wasn't sure if she was going to wake up the next day. She doesn't let her friends know about her problem, but wouldn't be surprised if they had an inclination of what was happening when she'd lock herself in her apartment for a few days after a night out on the town.
Family|
Father: Brian Mills: Unknown.
Step Father: Franklin Moore: Lawyer.
Mother: Diane Moore: Housewife.
Siblings: None that she is aware of.
Theme Song:
Dej Loaf - Back Up
If I fuck and make you cum, you got to promise not to stress me
Don't be blowin' up my phone and don't be leavin' voice messages
Sayin' "I can do you right, do you better than your exes"
Extras:
Can't drive. Snores. Allergic to cats. |
8,690 | 246 | 4 | 1,237 | 509 | Eliza Nguyen
Waking up at 6:30 and going on a morning run around the city was its own special high. It has been less than 2 weeks since Eliza moved to Suncrest but she has been too busy adjusting to her new life that she was hardly “home”. Home being the apartment space she shared with 4 others. But between the clients, the blog, and her daily exercise routines, it would be a miracle if she used the apartment for anything other than sleeping.
Sweat beads down her forehead and when she reaches the end of her run, Eliza undoes her tied up hair letting the brown curls fall way past her shoulders and down her back. She’s been told that she always smelled like lavender even when working out a sweat and embarrassingly enough she would smell her hair and wrists after every run to find it true. She takes notice of the eyes on her – mostly from men stumbling their way to work. She pretends not to be aware as she pulls out her phone, checking the schedule for the day. It was a Sunday – which meant only one client for the day. So when she receives a text from said client detailing their cancelled work out session Eliza was somewhat thrilled. She walks the short distance back to the apartments, each footstep lighter than the other.
Gleaming with joy about her suddenly free day Eliza practically prances through the door to the apartment. She stops just at the entryway when spotting Vivian, the girl who had originally put up the ad for the apartment hanging around seemingly deep in thought. Eliza hadn’t spoken more than a sentence to anyone since she moved in. At most she acted with formality and small smiles. And with the chaotic schedule she had so far, Eliza was afraid it would be nothing more than those small smiles. So Eliza decides to take this free day as a chance to finally socialize. She walks up to the fridge only to pull out a protein shake and grabs a seat next to Vivian. Eliza remembers that the girl had a work schedule that involved leaving for the night only to return in the morning. And by the time Eliza returned from her morning runs and got ready for work – Vivian was already asleep. So the two hardly ever talked much less see each other around the apartment. But Eliza gives it a go in hopes to at least make a new friend.
“Uh hey Vivian right? I was wondering what kind of fun stuff there is to do here. I unexpectedly have a free day ahead of me.” Eliza gives her a kind smile while taking sips of her shake. | Full Name| Eliza Li Nguyen
Nickname| Liza, Eli, Winnie
Gender| Female
Age| 25
Birthday| Dec 15
Job/Education| Personal Trainer/ Fitness & Fashion Guru w/ Degree in Exercise Science
Room Number| 4F
How long have you been staying in Suncrest?| Less than 2 weeks now
About
Appearance|
Eliza maintains a slim and fit build with a rigorous routine. Balanced dieting and running 3 miles every morning never hurt nobody, is what she always says. She is borderline obsessed with keeping up appearances. Running a successful fitness & fashion blog means she always must look her best even when sweatpants and ice cream are calling her name. You’ll never catch her in public bumming out since even her workout outfits are all top brand.
She is half Vietnamese half French. 5'8 weighing in at 130 lbs. She keeps her dark brown hair wavy and long. Defined cheekbones and eyebrows, Eliza is a case of hard worked natural beauty.
Interests|
-Exercising
-Blogging
-Tea
-Jazz
-Helping others
-Morning Runs
-Fashion Trends
-Bath bombs
Fears|
-Going back to old habits
-Insects
-Bullying
-Her past self
-Confrontation
-Embarrassment
Sexuality| Bi- Curious
Personality|
At times, she may seem conceited but it’s mainly because she cares a great deal about how she looks to other people. She is usually friendly and outgoing while maintaining a formal tone to those who aren’t as close to her. She enjoys helping others and because of her nature as a self-claim "guru" doesn't mind helping people out when it comes to fashion or fitness. Eliza is also passive when it comes to tension and would rather go on a run than confront a fight about dirty dishes. She's never been in a romantic relationship with a guy or a girl (an area of her life that she's trying to figure out) and is oblivious when someone is trying to hit on her. Because she's self- conscious, Eliza puts herself down but tries hard not to let others know that she is
History
Biography|
Eliza Nguyen grew up in a small town where everyone knew each other. Born to a Vietnamese father and French mother she was raised under the pressure of academic excellence along with a younger sister. It was because of this she developed bad eating and sleeping habits that took a heavy toll on her body. Stress eating was the only way she could cope with trying to be a perfect child. Unfortunately, her peers didn’t take too kindly with her appearance as she didn’t fit society’s impossible standard of “beauty”. The outcome of this was severe bullying throughout middle and high school. Even her younger sister joined in the taunting. Eliza became severely self-conscious and fell into depression.
It wasn’t until she got away from the hellish town and went to college did she aspire to quit her habits and improve her health and body. She became so self-absorbed with becoming fit that she cut out her past life completely. After graduating college with an exercise science degree, she disconnected herself from the small town and her family.
Eventually she opened a blog titled “Strength and Love” that focused on the fitness and fashion aspect of her life garnering a reasonably large number of following. After a while, she moves to Suncrest to accept a personal trainer job with a top-level gym. Doing everything in her power to leave what she considered a shameful past behind and try to leave a more positive impact on herself and others around her.
A Memory|
Towards the end of senior year Eliza opens her locker to find it trashed with spoiled food and slurs written all over. Pictures of the incident collected on social media and the few friends she had were too embarrassed to associate with her. Later finding out that her younger sister who was a Sophomore at the time, helped orchestrate the cruel prank. It ended up being a trigger in Eliza’s life to leave everything behind and start anew.
Struggles|
Eliza is still too self-conscious about herself and runs away from her past even if it means losing her family. She has not yet figured out what she truly wants to do with her life; career or romantically. She was too busy transforming herself to even consider dating. But at the moment she is struggling whether or not the possibility of being bisexual. In terms of experiencing bullying, she tries hard to never come in contact with those who have bullied her in highschool. She hasn't spoken a word to her younger sister ever since she left the hell hole.
Family|
Father: Thanh Nguyen; hardworking man who immigrated from Vietnam to America to pursue a better life and works hard owning a restaurant to ensure the success of his two daughters. He and his wife continually tries to contact Eliza to check up on her to no avail.
Mother: Elle Nguyen (nee Durand) co-owns a French-Viet restaurant in a small town. Cares for her daughters but is also strict and not easy to please.
Siblings: Sister Alice Nguyen; 2 years younger than Eliza they haven’t spoken since Eliza left home. Was mean and critical towards Eliza throughout their childhood because of her appearance calling her the “Ugly Duckling” of the family.
Theme Song:
Extras: Hometown is located somewhere Mid-West but she'll never say. Keeps her past life a secret from everyone else. She hides her face on her blog to ensure privacy. |
8,691 | 246 | 5 | 1,426 | 32 | Rupert Puckett
Interacting with: Vee / Eliza / Geoffrey
"Listen, I have a thing this week, I can't really go and don't patronize me. I'm completely fine, okay? I'm over it just get off my ass already." Scratchy-voiced McAngry Ass grunted, exhausted from walking god knows where from and to at 2 in the morning. He couldn't sleep last night, what with 4... 5 mugs of coffee? and 2 bottles of beer in his system. It's not like he had a choice; he had to work on scripts, set-up interviews(call some very stubborn people), write some articles, be on air at 10 in the evening and then manage NOT TO FUCKING SWEAR A STORM UP, IT'S YOUR LAST FUCKING WARNING PERTIE SOME KIDS ACTUALLY LISTEN TO YOUR SHOW MISTER, Whatever Linda. Seriously, what parent would let their child listen to a show called "Down with the dirt, with Pert." at 10 in the fucking evening?!?! S E R I O U S L Y. Anyway, walking around for the past 5 hours apparently works wonders for insomnia, oh wait. NOPE, adrenaline just kicked in because some boy just called, so uhhh still awake! Also it's not just a boy, it's the boy, the ex boyf. He was still not over it, despite the former acknowledgement. Oh, he was far from over it.
It was an 18 year relationship, 3 or 4 years of which were romantic and they were childhood bestfriends. He was basically one of the few friends he had left in his life so it sucked, big time. They were both at fault, Rupert knew it but he just didn't know how to come to terms with it like he does with a lot of things involving emotion. Sadness was starting to kick in, although it was more from being disappointed than being upset and he knew it will just get worse if he starts gloating so he's starting to think maybe he should not be not busy this week. That's right, no dilly-dallying, he needs something proactive... like setting up a party, or climbing a mountain, the former of which he has more experience of than the latter. The sun was rising, and so were the people, and AH, the lovely sound of the morning chaos... was not present. Bummer. It's the weekend and a lot of people love sleeping in, like what's up with that, how can you just sleep in on a day where you practically have 24 hours waiting to be filled with DOING STUFF?!? Disrespectful and such a waste, were the thoughts in mind.
Coming into Suncrest, the weary-eyed but still somehow energetic Pertie stumbled into Lourdes, who was dragging a whack ton of treasure out the hall. "Morning, mamita, the fuck are all these?!" his chirpy ass riddled with intrigue. "Just junk from previous tenants, you want some?" although she probably knew she didn't have to ask that question. "I'll just put my stuff down and then OH MAN, I AM GOING TO DIVE DEEP IN YOUR JUNK MAMA!" ---sounded less inappropriate in his head. He hauled ass to 4F before even acknowledging what went out his mouth. Anything can get Rupert worked up, it's harder to get him disinterested about something than it is to hype him up. He's very driven even if sometimes he is misdirected.
Although he was still getting used to Suncrest, he hasn't had any regrets about moving in so far. He does need to work on the whole knowing your neighbor department, although he's been too busy with uni and work so it wasn't exactly fair game. The place was pretty cozy and the people seem okay, at least on the surface, it's only been no less than three weeks so that opinion might change. Rupert puts his trusty backpack down the clunky office chair by his busy(meaning, Cluttered as a rat king, don't google that) desk. He grabbed his comfy grey sweatshirt and a distressed(like, I've had this since high school and it's worn but it still fits so bite me) jeans, and set it down the bed. The guy doesn't have a daily ritual because of his erratic ass but he does make sure that a bath is within the cycle of a day, there's nothing he enjoys more than a quick refreshing bath to cleanse yesterday's grit off.
After getting fresh and ready to knock Sunday down, sleep not necessary, Rupert grabs a cup of hot chocolate to get a squeeze of a jolt. Taking sips as the warmth fogs up his glasses, he skimmed through his social media, trying to get informed about some latest goings-on and light morning gossip. Nowadays, Twitter and Facebook is littered with shit-talkers and over-sharing people so you don't even have to walk down the street to hear the nasties. Wait up, he thought, catching his reflection on the screen. Helloo, boiiiii, looking good~. It was the natural morning filter from the sun god, he took the opportunity and flipped to instagram, snapping once because the lighting was just too perfect. Before putting it up, he tagged Geoffrey, the next door cutie. They've had this thing about tagging each other on selfies for the past few days now. Is that getting flirty? was it within friendly boundaries? who cares, it's whatever, flush face.
Mutter mutter mutter, ooohh roomies. Pertie skipped out his room, "Heeeyy, ladies, morning!!" rusty throat cracking a bit. It was, Eliza and... Veronica? Valerie? Volta? the lady who put up the ad, anyway, both girls seemed like nice people, girl who is not Eliza was a bit stiff. Maybe a little too much, but hell, Rupert hasn't had time to know either of them so judgement withheld. Because he doesn't have anything planned for the day, he thought maybe he can get to know them a little bit. "OH, have you seen Lourdes' pile of junk downstairs? Let's make like ravens and go scavenge." smiled with teeth, trying to win them over. "It's free stuff, and do you have anything better to do than getting down and dirty with maybe cursed items left behind by the ghosts of Suncrest past? You should come with, come onnnn, it will be fun." smile wider this time. "OH and has anyone had breakfast? I am famished, let's go grab some grub at the Rabbit Hole afterwards." Too much? maybe but it's still their choice so it's whatever and it's an empty Sunday waiting to be filled. | Full Name| Rupert Ingrid Puckett
Nickname(s)| Pertie / boy RIP (Jockey name/Pseudonym) / Satan's Virgin Bride
Gender| Male
Age| 24
Birthday| April 15
Education/Job|Major: Journalism, Minor: Mass Communication, Occupation: Radio Jockey
Room Number| 4F
How long have you been staying in Suncrest?| 2 weeks
About
Appearance|
Minimalist chic, is what he calls it, it's when someone wears an outfit that passes off well enough as fashionable but doesn't necessarily interfere with comfort. He's usually spotted wearing plain t shirts, button downs or collared shirts under flannels, vests, cardigans, or hoodies. For bottoms, she usually wears shorts, or pants, mostly anything above the knees but he does occasionally put on skin tight pants and may wear some one-piece clothing if he feels cute in them. He has a pair or two of eyeglasses, he occasionally wears them when he's too tired to put contact lenses on, he has a particularly terrible eyesight. His feet is usually comforted by sneakers, boots, flats and dress shoes... does he wear heels? Uhm, hunty, this gurl moves around and he doesn't want any pain on those precious twinkles. 5'8 ft of destruction and noise. He has a small pentagram on his left bicep. There are times when he dyes his hair blonde because it makes him feel like a different person and "there are just times that you have to escape yourself, you know what I mean? It's just a thing that happens okay, l e t m e l i v e."
Interests|
-TALKING(he's big on conversations, he can keep one going for hours... maybe even a whole day)
-The presence of people
-Cafes and coffee, never tea.. blech.
-Music (SHOW TUNES, INDIE POP, Sad songs that make you weep inside)
-Movies
-Comics/Graphic Novels
-Entertainment news (mostly the "geek" stuff)
-Literature (lives for it)
-Pop culture (in general)
-Morbid humor
-Gossip
-Singing (did anyone say Karaoke?)
Fears|
-Losing his voice, figuratively and literally.
-Losing a fight, or control in a situation.
-Accidentally coming out to his Family.
-Dogs
Sexuality| Homosexual (Ambiguous and sort of closeted to his family, will not disclosed unless asked oh and he's on grindr)
Personality|
Rupert is a boy of many words, he can literally talk for hours on end and has a very good sense of working people into and out of things which is a very helpful skill in his choice of a career. This makes him a bit unbearable for some people, especially those who are fond of the quiet and silence. The boy has become a bit of a compulsive liar. He is the kind of person who would be the first to greet you in a room full of people, the one who would attend to you the moment you enter his proximity; the fact that he talks a lot doesn't mean he forgets to listen though and he does his best to stay observant, sometimes even calculating. Because of his upbringing and being a neglected middle child, Rupert has always thrived and strive for attention. There's this impulse for him to always say what he thinks, even if it's unwarranted. He's a street-smart type of a person, who always feels like he comes up short with the academic intellect and feels very conscious about it.
His need to always be in control of a situation sometimes turns him intimidating and bossy, he's not really that aware of it, his friends are too scared to call him out but he does catch himself sometimes... but barely cares. He hates being on the losing side and has trouble coming to terms with defeat. His being gabby is a sort of defense mechanism, if he doesn't let out words from his mouth, he tends to implode and be antsy. He's easily consumed by his head when left alone, this is why he loves noise and crowds because he can just easily lose himself in the chaos of it all. Although when he does have no choice then he just writes his thoughts down on paper, thus, the odd stories on his notebook; this is to let his thoughts flow somewhere else than let them implode. Pertie is your typical neglected middle child with a rebellious streak striving to be an... almost decent person, or whatever passes as a friend you can call in times of need, for a little exchange sometimes.
History
Biography|
Rupert's childhood was a bit difficult, having always been stuck in the sidelines because of the middle-child syndrome, he never really felt adequate about his self because his older sister's achievements always overpowered his. It was bearable and simple at first, his parents are naturally fond of kids but being busy doctors with people to save and details to attend, attention has always been lacking. Things just got harder as he grew up and upon realization, he knew he had to fight for the attention and that mediocrity was not a trait his family approves of. There's something fiercely sad about feeling under appreciated by your parents, when that's all you've ever asked for. Pertie was never book-smart and although he never failed classes and sure, he's had some remarkable A's, in the Puckett household that's sub-par and straight A's are just standard. His relationship with his siblings or the lack thereof is something he has been trying to remedy recently and is turning out to be a struggle, because apparently 15 years of being distant is not something you can just fix right away, who'd've thunk?!
Contrasting from his current hyper-sociability, High school was just about as awkward a phase as anyone could have for Pertie; he was still in denial about most of the things about him, mainly his sexuality and then about his mental state, it alienated him from people and social interactions were unbearable. He only kept a few friends, although that's what he tells himself because truth be told, he was hard to be with, people left him and it was not the other way around. It was only in uni that he started developing a habit for self-love and eventually coming to terms with himself and the state he was in.
With over-achieving siblings, a younger brother currently taking up medicine and a lawyer as a sister, Pertie's leaning towards the liberal arts is a sort of way to get his parent's attention. Having come to terms with the fact that he can't outsmart his siblings academic-wise, and having skills beyond the books and the grits, he's realized that he can beat them in other areas. It has worked somehow, his parents actually remembered his birthday for 3 years straight... although he wasn't sure if that's because they've been on facebook, so it's still a work in progress.
Rupert's love for pop culture and the arts has always been a sort of safe haven and it is the one thing that made life more bearable so he decided that maybe through that very thing he knows best, he can finally show his parents his worth. He started building a portfolio and a youtube vlog documenting his thoughts and opinions with various multimedia quirks thrown in. Later on and with conviction, he entered Washington Uni taking Journalism as his major, planning to build up on what he has began. He was determined to do exceedingly well, It's never just a task for Rupert, it's always a competition.
For the first year of uni, Rupert has been staying at the Puckett house and it was convenient at first but then deadlines became a maddening thing and transportation was a bit of hassle so he had to live somewhere closer. For the next two years after that, his then best friend-love-of-his-life and his own little ass rented a little flat they found on craigslist in the little town of Suncrest. After a year into Uni, he found himself volunteering for the graveyard shift at the community radio and that was when "boy RIP" was born, breaking in the nightly gossip with a little helping of actual news at 10 in the pm. Who would have thought that a year into university would make him realize that he's just not the best at a lot of things? Singing? Acting? Writing? Performing? BEING ALIVE? He was feeling sub-par and for a while, that felt like hell but then he gradually started coming to terms with it. Things were going well, which was a new normal for the somehow-achiever and the community radio has been getting some recognition, both good and controversial sometimes bad, his days at the Uni is almost through but there's still a little dillemma about what specific career path to take. Money was never a problem because he has rich parents who gives him finances as long as he stays out of their hair and out of trouble, but then things went sour after sometime in the flat so now his roommate turned ex boyfriend slash heartbreak #1 kicked him out after a little altercation. Rupert's psyche is a bit of a mess at this point and he needs to figure his shit out and fast, he can't be graduating with loose ends and a cluttered head.
He spotted a little ad about some open slots at this "Suncrest Heights" -a place for living and getting his grip on life back, maybe. And so, the lost boy starts anew.
A Memory|
There was this haunting presence that was presented to him when he was 15, it was an evening alone at the Puckett house. The windows displayed an almost alienating presence of snow that engulfed the entirety of town and it felt like he was completely alone. He was always used to having someone around, even just that slight presence in the air; like the house help or a visiting cousin, or just his siblings. But that night, he came home late from class and everyone else has left to get dinner and got stuck in the snowstorm. Something struck Rupert inside from this deafening silence that sits in the air and before he knew it, the noise in his head started to override the presence of the silence, it was one thought after another, discomfort that left a bitter taste in the mouth. Maybe it was the overwhelming influx of thoughts, maybe it was the feeling of drowning in that space of being alone and that suffocating silence but it was almost like the world was dissipating and he was shrinking into himself, no, like the world was shrinking into him and he's about to get crushed, and the cold was about to freeze his heart off and that static came in, ringing louder and louder and he could feel his pulse, like blood was about to burst out from his fingertips.
It was his first time experiencing a sensory overload and he couldn't do anything. Before he knew it he was running for the front door, fighting the shut down, hitting his shin on the edge of a table, cutting a wound open then 'click'. They were home, he stood there motionless for a moment then fell on his knees, it was only then that he noticed the wet dripping down his cheeks. That was the one moment since he came home bruised and black-eyed from a fight in 2nd grade that he saw the concern in their eyes. "Pertie!" both his siblings cried, his father picked him up, her mother ran for the med kit, his eyes closed but a fulfilling warmth followed, his last thought -"This is what it takes?" followed by a pang in his heart.
Struggles|
The thing about not keeping at least a few good friends around is not having a few good friends around when you've been knocked down and over by life and needing some sort of emotional support, the one bestfriend you've been keeping is now just another stranger who also sort of hates you because you both messed up and your not exactly in talking terms with your siblings or your parents or anyone in general. But hey, there are always strangers to make sort of friends out of... if they figure you're not as terrible as what your blabbermouth makes you out to be. And also, there's always uni and schoolwork and your graveyard shift to drown yourself in but oh my god, you're actually feeling very delicate and on edge so big whoop. But you know what, You always figure things out, it's just another thing that happens, it's whatever, grin face, side eye, wink face.
Family|
Father: Otto Puckett, A Pediatrician, works very hard. Loves kids, can not tolerate teenagers. Would do anything for his wife. The most concerned about Rupert in the family, does try to reach out to him every so often but to no avail.
Mother: Zygmunty Puckett, A surgeon, the busiest in the family. Iron Lady, very strict with her kids but does enjoy their company every so often. Loves his husband very much. Has a hard time understanding Rupert, is very upset about him and is also a bit against his homosexuality.
Siblings: Sister: Hannah Ilyse Puckett, an over-achieving lawyer. Can be very cold and calculating, cares about her family very much. Haven't been in a romantic relationship ever. Is probably the closest Rupert has to a friend at the moment but she is too busy to attend to him. The most emotionally open in the family.
Brother: Hansel Aleph Puckett, 2 years younger than Rupert, is studying to become a Psychiatrist. Looks up to his older siblings and respects his parents the most. Values honesty and loves listening to Rupert ramble, but does have trouble reciprocating attention to him. Knows the most about Rupert even though they're not necessarily friends, they tolerate each other if anything. Rupert thinks he's a bit too stuck up and dogmatic.
Theme Song:
Extras:
Has a little thing with writing short stories/sketches that usually ends in a comically tragic death
Collects stickers but never sticks them on anything, just has this overflowing pouch full of em |
8,692 | 246 | 6 | 379 | 1,837 | Domimic Ortega
Dominic woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. Before he could answer he could hear the lady his roommate brought home.
“FUCK NO YOU CALLED ME VANESSA THAT MUST BE ONE OF YOUR OTHER BITCHES, YOU NOW WHAT I DON’T NEED THIS SHIT ITS TOO EARLY IN THE MORNING.” with a frustrated sigh Dominic got out of bed. "Puta Madre." Dominic muttered as he silenced his phone.
Dominic had spent last night with a couple work friends drinking a little hole in the wall bar they found across town. They tended to get wild so he preferred going to bars they frequent rather then his favorite places.
slowly dominic rose from his bed and got dressed in red and black basketball shorts and a black sleeveless undershirt. Rubbing his face Dominic opens his door and looks out to see a woman leave the apartment.
"Well that's festive..." Dominic muttered as he headed to the kitchen to make some coffee. Quickly he realized he had a phone call, sluggishly Quickly he looked at his phone and saw the number in the call log with a 2 minute message. It was a girl he met while out drinking a while back. It was odd that she called him so often as last time they had been face to face he had kicked her boyfriend's ass for being an ass. Just thinking about that night made his hand hurt when I find out he gave her my number... he thought as he headed back towards the kitchen. I don't got time for this he thought as he quickly goes to contacts and sends his roommate a text. thanks for the wake up, not like I wanted to sleep in ass. he typed with a smile. Dom knew his roommate knew that he was joking around. Im gonna make some coffee I'm hung over so I don't wanna cook or drive. | Full Name| Dominic Santiago Ortega
Nickname| Dom, Santiago
Gender| Male
Age| 24
Birthday| August 21
Job/Education| part time custodian and student.
Room Number| 4D
How long have you been staying in Suncrest?| six months
About
Appearance|
Dominic is a tall man standing confidently at 6'3 and 196lb he is someone who is hard to miss. Thanks to the many years of construction work he did before moving to suncrest Dominic is in great shape. On his right inner forearm, right bicep,left side of his neck he has the tattoo of the Virgin Mary, His mother as an angel, and the 49ers emblem on his neck.
Dominic can often be found on weekdays wearing his work uniform. Consisting of a dark blue button work shirt with the Wallace community college name and logo over the breast pocket with black work pants and steel toed work boots. On sunny days he can often be found with a school baseball cap to keep the sun out of his eyes. When going to class or on weekends Dominic tends to wear dark lose fitting jeans with varying number of T-shirts.
Interests|
- Football (both American and European)
- Drinking
- Music
- spending time with friends
Fears|
- being unable to support his elderly grand parents
- losing people he cares about
- going back to jail.
Sexuality| Heterosexual
Personality|
Dominic is a very easy going man, nothing ever really bothers him. At work he is a very dependable man, often being the guy to train the new people. He is also very kind and caring when it comes to his Co workers and friends. Often taking the blame for new people's mistakes. He attends to his duties with confidence and humility, often putting very little emphasis on his own contributions even though he went out of his way to do an event set up.
Outside of work Dominic is very out going and friendly, often Dominic will invite his friends to go out drinking or to go do something fun. While Dominic is very outgoing he is very careful not talk about himself.Even though he is very laid back, there are a few things that get under his skin. Violence against women and bullying are the main things that Dominic doesn't stand for.
History
Biography|
Dominic was born in South San Francisco, from a young age Dominic had a tough life. Born to two immigrants Dominic is the eldest of three children. Dominic's father Jose was a drunk, always spending what little extra money he and his wife brought in. He was a violent man who cared only for himself and the various ladies he would see on The side. Dominic's mother Evelyn loved her children, and protected them from her husband. When Dominic turned nine his mother took the kids and left her husband. The next six years would be tough on Dominic as he was put in charge of watching his siblings as his mother worked. Around the age 15 Dominic's mother passed away from cancer. His grandparents, who had just arrived in the US volunteered to raise the kids. Life remained the same until Dominic's 19th birthday. Dominic's younger sister Jasmine was dating a abusive older guy. On the night in question Dominic happened upon his sister getting hit. Dominic did what he thought was best and defend hef. He was charged with assault and sentenced to a year in jail. Soon after his release Dominic left the bay area. He traveled from place to place until he finally landed in suncrest.
A Memory|
The arrest:
"You have the right to remain silent anything you..." The voice of the Police officer faded gradually, replaced by pure silence as Dom watched his baby sister run to her boyfriend. In the span a half an hour Dominic had gone from having a beer with his abuelo after a long day of work to standing over the man who had beat his sister. Slowly sound returned as his abuela began to beg the police officer. " Please don't take my boy dios no please no mi nieto!?" She cried clutching the door frame, tears streamed down her face. Dominic's grandfather stood next to her with his arm around her. "Dom don't worry I will get you the best lawyer I can afford." Dominic's grandfather said with a hint of respect in his voice. Slowly the officers pulled Dominic from his living room out into the warm summer night. Even as his Neighbors stood at their front doors and watched Dominic knew he was screwed, his sister would tell what her boyfriend did, but he still assaulted the guy. He may be charged and maybe convicted of something, but Dominic knew he had broken his nose and knocked out at least three teeth. That was assault maybe aggravated assault, Dominic watched his family and a dazed ex-boyfriend as he spoke with one of the officers
Struggles|
Dominic has struggled with reconnecting with his family. He has had very little contact since leaving the city. Recently he has found his brother working in town, but has yet to contact him.
Family|
- Grandfather: Hector Ortega
Grandmother: Isabella Ortega
Brother: Carlos Ortega
Sister:Celina Ortega
Theme Song:
Warning adult language and themes
Extras: Dom loves monster energy drinks and loves animals. |
8,693 | 246 | 7 | 1,313 | 1,439 | Jeanne Croft
Jeanne sighed and went to her wardrobe, pulling out her clothes. There was very little different about each individual one, other than the colours of them, but she eventually went with a black pair of yoga pants, pulling them up and bemoaning the fact that she looked completely average in them. She had gotten a pretty good thing going what with walking a few miles from the train station to work every day that kept her in shape, but she knew she should probably be doing squats or something to make sure all that muscle was in the right place and toned.
Through one of the walls, she could hear someone shouting about being called the wrong name, causing Jeanne to cringe as she pulled on a yellow t-shirt. Yay for obscure references from a film that really wasn't obscure. Seriously, she loved KB to death, and it was right behind Pulp Fiction as her favourite Tarantino movie of all time, but apparently most people sort of knew it as 'Uma Thurman kills a bunch of people in a restaurant.' For shame.
When that was done, she picked up her keys and phone, and walked out the door, her deadbolt clicking as she pulled it shut. With her eyes closed for a second however, she walked straight into someone, sending both of them over. "I'm... I'm so sorry!" She stammered and got up, brushing down her clothing before offering a hand to the stranger. | Full Name::
Jeanne Gorgina Croft
Nickname:
Jeanne, (To most people) JJ, (To friends) Georgie, (To her SO/Family) G-J (Nobody calls her this.) She's pretty straight-laced.
Gender:
Female
Age:
22
Birthday:
She has one.
Job/Education:
She works at a pharmacutical labratory doing cosmetic tests in Washington DC, as well as small time modelling jobs. Any rumours of her having a cam site are FALSE AND WRONG and should be dismissed. Any viewing of said camsite is equally FALSE AND WRONG, and the person is actually her twin sister. Any rumours she doesn't have a twin sister is FALSE AND WRONG.
Room Number:
4G
Time in Suncrest:
Just over a month. She's kept to herself too, so she barely knows anyone.
Appearance:
Jeanne is not someone that cares much about their appearance. Whilst working, she obviously has her hair tightly secured and wears a lab coat/goggles, but underneath that she tends to wear what she wears litterally all the time: a t-shirt and yoga pants. It's pretty comfy, and she doesn't care what people think. She has no tattoos, but has three pericings on both of her ears, one in her nose, and one in her belly button. If she puts a stud inside is quite a different matter. She also has a nasty chemical burn on her left thigh, which she doesn't like to talk about.
Interests:
Films: ]Particularly cult classics. Jeanne is a massive cinema buff, and she absolutely adores chilling out in front of the TV watching a film.
EDM Music:Jeanne bought a set of expensive headphones specifically so she could get better sound quality for her music. Her music player is filled with The Prodigy, Pendulum, Pegboard Nerds, Knife Party and far more.
Reading: Jeanne will devour literature, make no mistake. Any book within reach will be practically inhaled by her, and she has a far-ranging taste in literature. And very strong opinions too.
Fears:
Lab accidents: She really doesn't like talking about this one, but she is insanely cautious when it comes to anything in a lab.
Going blind: One of her reoccurring and most primal fears, not helped by a prescription that seemingly changes at will.
Centipedes: Spiders, she can handle. Anything with that many legs is not to be trusted.
Sexuality:
Anything. She's been pretty asexual for most of her life, and it's really only now she's found out how much she likes intimate relationships.
Theme Song:
A Memory
Possibly the memory that sticks in her head the most is when she realised that she could make cash in the adult industry. She's a pretty shy girl who never really thought she looked that good (low self esteem is fun,) but suddenly random strangers gave her money for jilling off?
Biography:
Born an only child to a Russian immigrant and a Washington local, Jeanne didn't have an easy childhood. Her father worked as a mechanic- a damn good one mind, but still a mechanic, and her mother a nurse at an ER clinic, and on the time she was off, she worked odd jobs- whatever was paying, which was mostly maid work. Determined to earn enough cash for her parents when they were older, Jeanne was a dedicated student, and was willing to plunge herself deep into debt in order to one day crawl out.
She works as a student of medicine and virology, with hopes of joining the CDC or MSF, although for now she'd be happy to pass her exams and make it as a qualified doctor and virologist. Since the local community college isn't great when it comes to her field, she has to make a commute into the city proper almost every day. Rent's cheap though, so she's glad to sacrifice some sleep for some security. She does modelling on the side, although she's recently scored a small contract with a glasses firm, which she has fingers crossed will work out.
When she's out and about, she nearly always has two things in her hands- a smoothie, and papers. Or a research book. Or a tablet with research papers on it. Or just a medical textbook. Honestly, if she isn't studying, she's either sick, or too tired and her brain too numb to actually study.
Apparently she was cool. Anyone want to be friends with a geeky med student? |
8,694 | 246 | 8 | 1,044 | 4,425 | Location; Apartment 4E → Making his way towards The Rabbit Hole
Grant's Location; Apartment 4E → Wandering around the hallways
Interacting With; Each Other, mostly"Dude! Really?!"
Geoff shouted as he was waken up by one of his brother's stupid pranks. He groaned loudly as Grant was still videotaping him, laughing to himself as Geoff shoved him out of the way so that he could go to the bathroom and clean himself off. "And there you have it, folks. This has been another G. Kil Production." Grant said and a thumbs up gesture followed as he shut off his video camera then went towards the bathroom door and leaned against. "So sorry, bro but you know not to stay sleep whenever I am around." Grant commented as Geoff opened the bathroom door furiously and eyed his brother, his eyes rolled as he walked past him.
"One more prank on me while I am trying to get my beauty rest and I'll kick you out." Geoff said as Grant eyed him with an innocent smile, which caused Geoff to smile then they both could not help but to burst out laughing. "I hate you, Grant." Geoff said as he started to make his bed then Grant shook his head. "I love you, too." Grant muttered while leaving his brother's room and going inside of his own room. Instead of Grant starting to make his own bed, he logged onto YouTube and uploaded some of his newest videos even the one from a few minutes ago. "Hey! Do you have to work today?" Grant questioned towards Geoff, who waltzed inside of Grant's room, nodding his head.
"Indeed I do. When have you not known for me to work?" Geoff responded as Grant turned towards his brother, shoulders shrugging as he now stood up. "Yeah, you do work an awful lot." Grant said as Geoff raised a brow at him. "An awful lot? Have you been watching those Medieval shows off of my Netflix again?!" Geoff asked as Grant scoffed then turned away from his brother. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for work?" At that, Geoff walked out of his brother's room and into his own, where his phone chimed with a notification.
It was Pertie. A somewhat warm feeling came over him as he opened the notification that sent him to Instagram and there was a picture, well selfie, of Pertie and he was tagged into it. With a raised brow of curiosity and without a second thought, Geoff started to type a comment underneath the picture. 'Ooh, looking good, Pertie. ;)' Geoff hit the post button and the comment was now visible to Pertie and everyone else. His eyes went towards the rather tiny time onto the top of his phone as he groaned, already being just a little bit late for work.
"Grant! Grant!" Geoff called out as his brother came running towards him room now, opening the door and panting from the small run. "What? Everything okay?" Grant questioned towards Geoff, who was looking in the mirror then turned towards his brother with a smirk. "Does this uniform make me look fat?" With a chuckle, Geoff finished getting ready for work as he walked past his brother, ruffling his hair before going towards the exit. "Oh, since you don't have work or class, you could clean up the apartment." Geoff mentioned as he sauntered out of the door, not caring about his brother's response and going towards The Rabbit Hole.
Grant heard Geoff's words and knew that he needed to get some much needed cleaning supplies for the apartment before he did indeed clean it. So, Grant grabbed his smaller video camera and headed out of his apartment, wondering around in the hallways and turning on his camera. "Hello there, people of YouTube! Just going to the market to get some supplies so I can clean the apartment today. Boring, right? But who knows what trouble I may get into along the way." Grant said into the camera. "Stay tuned, folks!" His voice shouted as he shut the camera off for a moment now, continuing his little trek throughout the halls. | {"My life has a superb cast but I just cannot figure out the plot."}
Viva La Vida - Coldplay || Pompeii - Bastille
Full Name |
Grant Randall Kilmer.
| Nickname |
Grant is not really use to having nicknames thrown his way so it makes him a tad bit uncomfortable when someone tries to give him one.
| Date of Birth |
March 17.
| Age |
Twenty-two.
| Gender |
Male.
| Sexuality |
Heterosexual.
| Relationship Status |
Single.
| Occupation |
College Student and Bartender at The Gypsy.
| Major |
Forensics.
| How Long Have You Stayed At Suncrest? |
Four years.
| Apartment Number |
4E.
In Depth Appearance |
Grant stands about six foot tall flat and weighs about one hundred and fifty-nine pounds. Grant has a rather slender but slightly muscular frame from working out and such. His eyes are a pure brown color and that are perfectly rounded. His hair is a honey brown color that he likes to keep a tad bit messy and unkempt though on rare occasions, he will comb it over and look very presentable. Grant's style is very much like his personality, it is very laid back and casual. Grant does not care what he wears unless it really matters. He tends to wear a lot of t-shirts and long pants, even some shorts. Grant only likes to wear Chuck Taylor's upon his feet, as well and has an assortment of beanies. He does not own one single piece of elegant clothing within his closet either. He has his right ear pierced and usually keeps a blue diamond stub in there.
Habits |
• Bites his bottom lip whenever he's nervous or is about to lie
• Constantly runs his fingers through his hair
• Fidgets whenever he is bored or during silence
• Hardly carries change in his pocket
| Hobbies |
• Is an active YouTuber
• Video Games
• Collecting old coins
| Likes |
✔ Working Out
✔ Social gatherings among friends
✔ Social Media {has a Twitter, Snapchat, YouTube & Instagram}
✔ Chocolate Ice Cream
✔ Telling jokes and playing pranks
| Dislikes |
✘ Spicy foods
✘ Early mornings
✘ Dressing up
✘ Anyone that hurts his brother
✘ Being forgetful
| Fears |
☠ Losing his brother
☠ Choking or Suffocating
☠ Needles
Personality |
♦ Loyal ♦ Quick Witted ♦ Out Going ♦ Blunt ♦If one was to ask about Grant's loyalty and where it lies then within their friendship, most will tell you that he is the most loyal person that you will ever meet and that is a true factoid. Grant's loyalty can be seen as being a bit overprotective, at times as well and he doesn't let no one hurt his friends because if they do then it will not end well for them. Grant is loyal to the people that are loyal to him before anybody else. If someone does anything to any one close to him then he'd probably make them regret whatever they did. Along with being loyal, Grant is very honest when it comes to his friends. Grant has an open mind when it comes saying things out loud. Of course, he will speak his mind on almost any subject at hand but will try to be mindful of the words that comes from his lips. Grant hates it when he has to be blunt though. If his friends asks for his brutally honest opinion, he will definitely be the one to give them what they want. Grant really doesn't hold his tongue when it comes to anybody, a trait that he kind of picked up from his mother since he was around her for most of his life. If Grant was to hurt someone with the words that he spoke, of course he will apologize to them and hope that they will accept his apology. If not, Grant will understand completely.
Grant is also known for his inventive and quick witted comebacks towards other people in an argument or debate. Though, if the argument is very petty then it is not worth his time and instead of giving comebacks, he'll simply walk away since cannot stand it when someone comes up to him with mess or drama. Grant has been known for being a drama free kid and tends to stay that way during his time at Suncrest. Grant is very outgoing as he will walk up to anybody and start talking to them. If he likes what they say, he'll continue talking to them but if he doesn't, he'll cut the conversation short and walk away. He is also friendly to those around him and will also befriend anybody but of course, they have to be intelligent and be very interested in some of things that he is interested in. That's just the way Grant is and he cannot help that. If one was to talk to Grant about something that he likes or loves, he'll become very excited and will talk for nearly hours on that one subject until he has touch the basis of it. Most people rarely talks to him because of that fact but if one has similar interests with him, then might be the only reason that they will talk to them.
Overall, Grant is a great person to become friends with even if it just for a few moments. He loves having people around him that he can talk to about almost anything and loves almost everyone on his team. Once you befriend Grant, one better ready for a very loyal friend, intelligent and meaningful conversations, along with quick witted comebacks that will leave you astounded. Grant welcomes anyone to try to be his friend and given by his actions, you'll know if you passed the test or not.
Family |
Father: Jackson Kilmer || Forty-two || Living || Lawyer
Mother: Martha Kilmer || Forty || Living || Restaurant Manager
Siblings: Geoffrey Kilmer || Twenty-two || Living || College Student and works at The Rabbit Hole
| Biography |
On Saint Patrick's Day in 1995, instead of partying it up in a bar, going to a parade or doing anything fun, Jackson and Martha Kilmer were in the hospital as Martha went into labor. Grant is the first born out of a set of twins, him and his brother being about ten minutes apart. His parents were proud to bring him into the world and showered him with just about everything and anything. But growing up, Grant wasn't really the sibling that needed much for real. As long as he had his video games, he was more than happy.
It was when he turned about five years of age that he started elementary school but really cried every single day because he did not want to be away from his parents for a considerable long amount of time. Teachers and even the principal tried to cheer him up but that was to no avail. Eventually, he went to school with ease and became one of the teacher's favorite students. The rest of his elementary school years seemingly went by with a breeze as he wishes that he could do it all over again but sadly, he cannot. Grant knows that he should've flunked a grade or two so that he could still be in the elementary school.
Middle school wasn't really as eventful but there is where Grant fell in love with video cameras and practically begged his parents to get him one. They did, of course and he made videos every single day, literally. Around that time, he took his video camera with everywhere and yes, everywhere he went, the video camera was seemingly permanently attached to his hand. It was he started the eighth grade that he fell in absolute loved with YouTube but rarely posted videos on there around that time. It wasn't until he started high school, well a few months after he started high school, that he started to post regularly and still does till this day. But he doesn't post videos of just himself, no, sometimes he'll post videos alongside his brother and whatever adventure he or they go on.
After his high school graduation, his mother and father presented an envelope to him that read Wallace Community College on it. Without even thinking twice, Grant snatched it from his mother's hands, apologizing for it, of course and ripped it open as his eyes started to read the first line. He lowered his head in a sad manner as his mother tried her best to comfort him but about thirty seconds later, he sprung up and said that he had gotten accepted into the college. His parents were very proud of him as his father punched his arm for playing with them like that. So, as soon as they got home, they sat down and started to talk more about his future and him moving to Washington.
Grant has been in Washington for about four years alongside with his brother. He is a college student now and a bartender at The Gypsy, though he did have to learn how to prepare certain drinks. Grant is staying at the apartment complex known as Suncrest Heights and his brother is his roommate.
| Memory |
It almost happened but didn't. When Grant was about fifteen going on sixteen, he had somewhat of a girlfriend named Angelica, who was your typical but average girl in high school. They've been going together for about five months and when his birthday came around, they went out and she brought him a new, more prestigious video camera. Grant thanked her and then she invited him over to her house since her parents weren't at home. Of course, he thought they were going to watch a movie or something but Angelica wanted to do something a little bit more. Being a tad bit uncomfortable, Grant basically pushed Angelica off of him and left though not forgetting the video camera and certainly did not forget to break up with her, as well. It's a day and night that Grant will never forget as he can't since it happened on his birthday.
| Struggles |
May or may not be considering not attending college for at least two semesters.
{"Life is not a channel on the television so if you want to change it, get up and change it yourself."}
I'm The Greatest Star - Lea Michele Cover || Fight Song - Rachel Platten
Full Name |
Geoffrey Jack Kilmer.
| Nickname |
Geoffrey absolutely adores being called Geoff much more than he likes being called by his real name.
| Date of Birth |
March 17.
| Age |
Twenty-two.
| Gender |
Male.
| Sexuality |
Homosexual.
| Relationship Status |
Single.
| Occupation |
College Student and Waiter at The Rabbit Hole.
| Major |
Dramatic Arts.
| How Long Have You Stayed At Suncrest? |
Four years.
| Apartment Number |
4E.
In Depth Appearance |
Much like his brother, Geoff stands about six foot tall flat and weighs about one hundred and fifty-nine pounds. Geoff also has a rather slender but slightly muscular frame but it isn't from working out, or anything. Geoff tends to eat very healthy and always watching his weight. His eyes are a pure chestnut brown color and are almond shaped. His hair is a honey brown color, too but unlike his brother, he likes to keep his hair combed and rather presentable. Geoff's style isn't anything original as he tends to copycat his brother, meaning that he only wears t-shirts and long pants, along with shorts. Upon his feet, he wears nothing but Sperry's or Vans and that's about it. Inside of his closet, you'll find at least two or three elegant pieces of clothing. Geoff does not have any scars but just like his brother, he has his right ear pierced, keeping a clear diamond stub in his ear.
Habits |
• Mouths lyrics of certain songs
• Will quote his favorite Disney movie in certain situations
• Cannot drink anything without ice - though there are some exceptions
• Is a hand talker
| Hobbies |
• Photography
• Video Games
• Scrapbooking
• Listening to music
| Likes |
✔ Playing the piano or guitar and singing
✔ Milkshakes
✔ Social Media {has a Twitter, Snapchat, YouTube & Instagram}
✔ Reading and writing
✔ Playing pranks along with his brother
| Dislikes |
✘ Homophobes
✘ Bullies
✘ Sleeping late
✘ Being betrayed
✘ Forgetting things
| Fears |
☠ Losing his brother
☠ Drowning
☠ Spiders
Personality |
♦ Understanding ♦ Responsible ♦ Cunning ♦ Blunt ♦Geoff is a person that most people would befriend due to his intellectual and understanding nature but others tend to stir away from due to his blunt and cunning ways. Geoff has always been the intelligent one in his family and people have looked up to him because of that fact. Not to say that his parents and siblings are not intelligent but Tyler just picks up on things a lot faster than them and sometimes they get mad but he doesn't really care. He is also very clever and is a quick thinker when it comes to almost anything. Geoff is an understanding type of person and no matter who you are or what problem big or small that you have, he will listen. He doesn't just listen and understands people's problems but he also understands their ideas as well. He will give good and detail communication towards the person he is advising and hope that they take his advice and use it to their advantage.
Being responsible is something that Geoff had to learn from personal experience. He use to be very irresponsible growing up but one slip up made that change into his life. He became more responsible around the house and even helped them out with the chores and house work. People were much more in love with the new Geoff and respected the person that he had become.
Geoff's words can be either helpful or harmful towards others. If they are harmful, that's because he is very blunt and intends not to hurt anyone's feelings. He tries his best not to be brutally blunt but sometimes, it doesn't workout the way he wants it too. Geoff will apologize as long as the other person doesn't flip him off or get mad and go on a rage fit towards him. He is also very cunning and is able to get himself and others out of almost any sticky situation. His words are very persuasive that even he believes half of the cunning schemes that he has been into. One last trait that Geoff has is being very flirty towards guys and will sometimes take it too far. He does flirt with girls but not as often as he would flirt with a guy. Plus, most girls thinks that he is his brother, Grant.
Overall, due to his changed nature, Geoff is someone that people tend to hang around with even if it's just for advice or just to go out and have a good, responsible evening on the town. He loves having friends around him and don't know what he would do without the friends that he has now.
Family |
Father: Jackson Kilmer || Forty-two || Living || Lawyer
Mother: Martha Kilmer || Forty || Living || Restaurant Manager
Siblings: Grant Kilmer || Twenty-two || Living || College Student and bartends at The Gypsy.
| Biography |
Born just mere minutes after his brother, Geoffrey came into the world. His parents showered him with just about anything he could ask for. Since his brother did not really ask for much, Geoff asked for everything and even more as he really hoped that he did not pressure his parents too much. But whenever Geoff saw his first musical, West Side Story, he pointed at the television screen and said "That!" with excitement that his parents did not even hesitate to get him signed up for vocal lessons. Ever since then, he has also shown an interests in the arts. Once he perfected his voice, his mother dressed him up and entered him into competitions, some he lost or came runner up in but he has won at least three talent competitions.
Once his middle school years rolled around, Geoff signed up for band and choir. Both of which he excelled in, of course and since people that were just like him saw his talents, that made him instantly befriend people that shared the same interests as him. One girl even asked to be his girlfriend but Geoff straight up told her that he was not interested in females. Geoff was a little nervous as he thought that she'd spread the rumor around about him but she did not though they still remained friends. Ever since elementary school, Geoff knew that he was homosexual but always kept quiet about it because he did not want to disappoint his parents or anything. But after his eighth grade graduation, he came out to his parents and brother as they were proud of him because he was accepting who he was but even more worried about him.
When high school rolled around, his parents insisted that he goes to a performing arts school instead of a regular public school. Geoff did not want to go because he'd be away from his brother but his parents would not let up. After some considerate consideration, Geoff finally gave in and went to a nearby performing arts institution. There, he made many more friends and even met his first boyfriend named Toby. They were really inseparable during their time together and even helped each other with upcoming showcases and performances. Toby was a great edition into Geoff's life at the time but of course, every relationship of some sort must come to an end.
It was when Geoff graduated from the performing arts school, which was a day after his brother's graduation, that Toby broke up with him. It devastated him on his big day but being accepted into Wallace, along with his brother as that made him extremely happy and in that moment, Toby's break up became a distant memory. His parents sat him down and talked even more about his future plans as him and his brother were to set off towards Washington.
Geoff has been in Washington for about four years now alongside his brother, who is even his roommate. He applied for a job at The Rabbit Hole and was hired within two days. He is also balancing college along with working there but knows that he can definitely handle it.
| Memory |
Competitions can get a little bit catty but more between the parents than the kids that participate within them. Geoff will never forget that he got disqualified from a competition because his mother wanted to get into a screaming match with one of the judges and then a parent backstage. It made Geoff's heartbreak as he really had a chance to win that competition that day. His mother constantly apologized but eventually, he got over it and finally told his mother that it was okay as she was only trying to protect him and make sure that the competition was fair. Of course, it still wasn't okay at the time but now, it really is okay.
| Struggles |
May or may not be considering to audition for an Off Broadway show. |
8,695 | 246 | 9 | 272 | 738 | Kaitlyn Elise Holliday
Buried underneath a clump of blankets and pillows, Kate lifted her head up and looked at the time on her clock. It was too early to be up on a Sunday, but with all the commotion outside she couldn't go back to sleep. She had lived in this area for only a few weeks, still not used to living life on the opposite side of the country. She probably had to get her ass out of bed now. Getting up and hearing a pillow fall to the ground, the mechanic sighed. She had the day off today, but since she was new to this area, she had no idea as to what she should do in her spare time. She didn't know all the cool spots, or what there was to do here. Maybe she could go exploring today or get to know her roommates better. As long as it wasn't spending the whole day in her bedroom. As tempting as it sounded, she knew that it probably wasn't going to be good for her.
Getting out of bed, she took a deep breath and sighed, shuffling out of her room and making a beeline for the bathroom to get freshened up for the day. Luckily nobody was using it, which allowed Kate to take care of herself a little better. A few minutes later and Kate was out, ready to take on the day. Donning this outfit, which totally was not biased toward any brand or anything like that, she emerged from her room once again. Her roommates were in the main rooms chattering amongst themselves. As Kate walked past she gave a brief wave and smile before hastily going for the door outside. Truth be told, she still didn't know everyone's names. There were a couple girls named Vivian and Eliza, as well as another girl with a name super similar to her own. She struggled to remember the male roommate's name, it was like Robert or Roland or something like that. He was cool, though, based off of the few interactions she had with him.
Walking out the door, her lanyard with her keys and whatnot in hand, she was probably going to hit up a Starbucks and grab herself some coffee and breakfast if she liked what she saw there. Walking down the hallway, Kate pulled out her iPhone and started to look through her emails and texts. Most of her emails were just promotional offers from the shops that she frequented, but Kate wasn't a stranger to them and often pounced on those offers. All they needed was one that sounded remotely decent and she was on it like glue. It was kind of chilly outside, but Kate had a feeling it would be a little better by the time the afternoon rolled around.
Still keeping her eyes on her phone, she suddenly felt an impact and was knocked on her butt. Some wind was knocked out of her, but Kate was ultimately fine. She looked up to see a pink-haired lady look very shocked, although very apologetic. "It's okay. I'm alright." Kate took the hand to get herself back on her feet. "You alright, though? I wasn't looking so I probably ran into you. I'm sorry." Kate chuckled sheepishly before realizing that this lady most likely lived here, which was super close to her apartment. "Hey, you live here? I'm Kate, and I live down at 4F." Kate gestured to the door back there, hoping the lady was at least friendly. | Full Name| Damien Rankin
Nicknames| Damey
Gender| Male
Age| 24
Birthday| 2nd September
Job/Education| Writer/Blogger/Web Designer
Room Number| 4C
How long have you been staying in Suncrest?| 3 Months
About
Appearance|
Lean is a good word to describe Damien easily. he stands at about 5'9, not overly tall but not too small either. He has a slim build with little muscle or fat present but he's obviously more than just skin and bones as there is a little something to him. His hair is often untamed except for when he goes down to the Gypsy when he will put effort into combing the dark brown nest of hair into a suitable style. He is always clean shaven, shaving almost once everyday to avoid getting any unneeded stubble, god forbid a moustache.
Usually on a normal day he'll wear a sweatshirt and trousers for staying inside, sometimes sweater and shirt if he's got others in the apartment. For going out, he'll put on a jacket and usually a shirt, although he adores wearing t-shirt and hoodies for lazy days in.
Interests|
- Writing
- Movies
- Comics/Manga
- Fashion
- Tv Shows
- Synthpop, Punk and Jazz music
Fears|
- Being forgotten
- Drowning
- Boat Travel
Sexuality| Bisexual
Personality|
Damien at first will come off as strange and slightly confusing, as he's often very enthusiastic but only shows it when somebody shows an interest in him or is interests. However his main go to for normal conversation is sarcasm and making deadpan jokes in situations, even if it's not he most appropriate of times. He's pretty friendly, although he may come off as a bit abrasive and makes some odd jokes, he's trying his best. Some would see him uptight but in reality the only thing he's uptight about is keeping his room clean, as he will often sleep in and get locked out because he has a brain like a sieve.
When it comes to his friends Damien is a lot more chatty and will likely be hard to make him shut up. He drinks coffee a lot to try and keep him up later but usually ends up passing out at his computer. If someone ever asked him for help or had a problem he'd always be there as soon as he could with coffee, blankets and a movie. His main obsession is writing and he'll talk about it a lot, only if he realises the time is right because he realises he can rant on and on about manga and movies for too long sometimes
History
Biography|
From day one, Damien was pretty much sheltered and given great chances. His dad was a lawyer and his mother was a biochemist and the money just rolled in, meaning that the house he stayed in with his family was amazing, however, Damien was used to not being allowed out after 7pm even when he was 15 due to his parents being rather suspicious of their youngest son. They were hoping for a successful lawyer to get past what had happened with his sister who had moved out to go live with her boyfriend when Damien was 14 and she was 19.
He didn't talk much to her because of how often she went out but she cared for him when he was upset, and god did that happen a lot.
From the age of 10 Damien had problems socialising often as he found large groups intimidating and due to the way his mom had taught him, he always perceived himself to be a bother to others, so he often avoided going out.
However, during High School he became better at socialising and gained a small group of friends, as that was what he was good with, small groups. When he was 18 he moved out to take a university course in English literature, he wouldn't have moved out however his mom divorced from his dad and both of them were itching for him to take sides, so he moved out.
He moved in with his friend Joe who he knew from school, but unfortunately Joe was a bit of a "party animal"
as he would often declare to Damien who just wanted to focus on work. He tried keeping in contact with his parents but they got way too strict about him seeing them once every week. Yes it was about a 2 hour drive but if he was ever driving, he'd usually bring Joe. He knew his parents wouldn't approve of their treasured youngest hanging out with such a guy. So he cut communication slightly. After university he started writing on his novels, even publishing one online, a mystery novel named "Fire of Atlantis".
He was pretty proud of himself but after he was 23, Joe started doing drugs and drinking far too much. Damien ended up engaging in the stuff with him but he knew Joe was getting sick of Damien cleaning a lot and killing the mood at parties he held. And this came to fruition with a fight that ended with Damien getting punched in the face and told to get out by the end of the day. He'd already prepared and left as soon as he could, but he still wanted to live near the university so he could have easy access to the library. The day after being thrown out, he'd applied for the apartment and moved in as soon as he could after surfing around hotels waiting to move in.
A Memory|
The smell of incense flooded Damien's nostrils as he grinned, watching his friends sit down on beanbags and seats he'd laid out. His room was plastered with movie and anime posters, books stacked up in the bookshelves on each side of his bedroom. This was fun, this how he remembered fun. His friends looking at him with awe and confusion as he laid out maps and scrolls he'd written up, as he shuffled their character sheets in his hands.
Joe was there, his black hair tied back in a ponytail as he stared at the stuff Damien had written down. This moment ended with laughter as they all noticed the jokes in what Damien had written and he giggled too. Making people laugh and smile at his writing, with such ease there. Playing DND as his friends began discussing stuff with him and he could bend and write this world as he wanted. He always remembered the way the dice rolled as he shook it in his hand with finesse and extravagance. The good ol days some would call it.
Struggles|
Lack of confidence in his writing.
Feelings of being alone and inadequacy
Fear of never accomplishing anything
Family|
Father: Dorian Rankin
Mother: Olivia Morton
Siblings: Natalie Rankin
Theme Song: Andromeda - Gorillaz
Extras: He will dance when a song comes on he likes, he doesn't mean to, it just happens. |
8,696 | 246 | 10 | 792 | 4,390 | Damien Rankin
6 hours. That was a start.
Damien awoke from his sleep underneath his duvet covers, rubbing his eyes with depleted energy. God did he need more than 6 hours, but luckily, that was the norm. With a few strains of his body he tried to pick himself up enough to turn the phone on, wanting to make sure it was going to be a nice day. His bare eyes were exposed to the fully bright screen, making the idiot flinch as the screen hit him full force. He muttered a few curses under his breath before flicking through missed messages from the night. His messenger usually got a few stragglers after he'd gone to bed but luckily there wasn't too much to be worried about this morning. With a sigh he prepared to actually kick the sheets off and get out of bed.
After undertaking such an arduous task of removing himself from his bed he yawned, slipping on a pair of trousers and a band t-shirt he'd acquired from a gig not too long ago. He looked at the clock, biting down on his tongue as he realised he didn't have much to do today but one long lay and his sleep would go out the window. Too late to turn back now, plus it seemed his new roomie wasn't awake yet so that was an added bonus. Glasses on, the brush went to work on his hair, wanting to look a little presentable for the coming day because it seemed there was people already outside and from what he had heard, if he didn't show face, no one was going to like him. Popularity wasn't his goal, he just needed some people to go drinking with instead of nights in with wine.
Before he'd go on such a dangerous venture for someone who preferred the comfort of his computer chair, he got out of his room, patting himself down as he put on a light purple plaid shirt that he felt went well with his black t-shirt. of course this was for casual, if he actually intended on leaving the complex he'd be putting on much more of a show than something so tame and dull, but he didn't want one of the more refined people here to comment on his fine choices of sweater vests.
His coffee was made smoothly, no hinderences in the morning routine, and it seemed the mysterious roommate was awake yet either. he shrugged, his hot cup of coffee in hand, sipping on it slightly. The mug was decorated with a logo of Samuel L Jackson pointing a gun from pulp Fiction, one of Damien's favourite movies. As he sipped on his coffee and felt the caffeine already coming to help him wake up, he returned to his bedroom and turned his attention to the computer. Great, it'd been on all night. He quickly did a quick save of his draft for the newest novel, giving it a quick skim and sighing. He'd have to gut this chapter for sure, probably change the whole tone in the process. It just, didn't flow.
After that ordeal, he put the empty mug down and put on his red converse shoes, getting ready to leave the apartment and grinning as he could properly hear the radio. He'd taken a breakfast bar with him and ate at it a little as he lazily walked down the hallways, looking for something interesting to at least see or talk to. God were sundays boring, everyone that he worked for or placed orders wouldn't start sending requests until like 1pm.
So here he was, trying his best not to look suspicious, instead he just came off as tired and looked pretty odd wandering in the halls at such a pace. | Full Name|
Laverne Claire Bryant
Nickname|
Vern
Gender|
Female
Age|
Twenty Five
Birthday|
Once a year every year. In the autumn.
Job/Education|
Comic Artist; Does commissions on her website
Room Number|
4A
How long have you been staying in Suncrest?|
About six months or so.
About
Appearance|
Vern has what some might consider a...slovenly sort of appearance about her. Sure there's a somewhat attractive person to be found, but one has to get past the bags under her eyes, the slightly pear-shaped physique that gives a...somewhat healthy amount of chub (which she promised she'd work on...eventually) and the various stains that mar her outfits on a regular basis. Vern is not exactly a walking hot mess, but it's hard to imagine there's a more lazy looking person in all of Verona. Lazy is a fair way to describe how Vern carries herself, especially given her hobby of wearing mismatched clothing out of a habit of merely throwing on whatever smells and looks clean at any given moment. It's fortunate that she is somewhat tall, at least taller than the average, standing at 5'10" which has afforded her some natural physical attributes that are enhanced by her physique: namely that she parades around in shorts semi-consistently. There's another motive for doing so, of course, in that the back of her right calf is blessed with a little tattoo of a bee with a dumb, goofy grin and googly-eyes. It was her first one, the first 'character' she ever drew. Its name was Busy Bee.
Her hair is of a medium length and chestnut brown in color. She doesn't style it any particular way, making it look more unkempt and forever topped with bedhead than anything else. Her eyes are dark blue in color and possess a dissatisfaction of life that only comes with experience and a lack of sleep. Typically, Vern doesn't wear makeup other than the instances when she has a date or a meeting of some sort. If ever someone uttered the phrase 'starving artist' no one would look to Vern for proof of that.
Interests|
-Fast Food. There's really no greater saving grace than a decently cheap, decently terrible for you burger seeped in grease and ketchup. Sometimes with double patties. Often with double patties.
-Sketching. It almost goes without saying given her occupation but Vern rather enjoys sketching things she sees. This tends to be things limited to her room and what she sees from the window but it's a nice break all the same.
-Punk and Rap Music. There was a time when Vern was constantly getting in trouble for playing her music at very unreasonable volumes at very unreasonable hours of the day and night. When asked why she didn't use headphones to listen to the music her response was a simple "I was using them." She was probably lying. Point being she likes loud, angry sorts of music.
-Coffee and/or soda. Anything with a lot of caffeine. She tends to favor soda because it comes with the benefit of being bad for the health and it's cheaper to buy a few twenty four packs of Pepsi than it is to buy multiple cups of coffee over the course of a week.
-Reality Television. Vern still remembers the day when Jersey Shore ended because she was sad about it for a good month. She loves her trashy fake reality shows because she can watch them and not feel so bad about her own lot in life. Because if these pretty and rich people are fucking up, maybe it's okay that Vern hasn't done her laundry in three weeks.
Fears|
Breaking bones. It's a simple fear and has more to do with the pain aspect but Vern cringes at the sheer thought of spraining an ankle much less breaking something in a more serious fashion. That she believes her body to be a bit doughy and thus in possession of weak bones certainly doesn't help.
Blood. In line with her broken bone phobia, Vern hates blood be it her own or fake blood in movies. She doesn't even like drawing blood in her art (but will do it if she's getting paid, like any good money fan). It doesn't make her light headed but she does tend to avert her gaze all the same.
Losing Her Job. It's more along the lines of being forced to move back in with family since she's been independent, for better or worse,
for a good six years or so now and going back home is the same as admitting that her relatives were right all along. Thankfully there're people who like her artwork enough to ask for commissions as well as purchase the book she draws for on a biweekly basis. For now.
Sexuality|
Homosexual
Personality|
Vern isn't abrasive, but that doesn't make it any easier for her to get along with people - not for lack of trying but rather...lack of grace. The day that adults gave lessons on social etiquette was a day Vern missed. It's not unheard of for Vern to belch loudly in public and then laugh about it like a child. She even chews with her mouth open. Manners escape her, and yet that's often the worst thing people can say about Vern, that she lacks anything resembling grace or, well, femininity. At her worse, Vern comes off as gross but harmless more than anything else; there are probably those who find her lack of care refreshing. Doubtful, but then the world is a rather mysterious place.
There's nothing about Vern that plays as shy. She's practically an open book for better or worse. She knows enough not to blab secrets and the like but with a somewhat loud mouth and lack of a filter, she isn't someone to go telling life changing secrets to. She knows not to blab but sometimes it just slips out, y'know? Lacking in what some call 'book smarts' thanks to her completely below average academic record through high school, Vern makes up for it by understanding people on a personal level. She fancies herself something of an armchair psychiatrist at time - understanding people and their motivations has helped her comic last on the strength of its characters.
Still, perhaps because of her rather off putting antics, Vern is a lonely woman all the same. She craves camaraderie even as those she thinks like her constantly find excuses to not hang out with her. It's not a matter of 'growing up' despite her somewhat childish antics and behavior patterns, it's that she doesn't know how to truly talk to people and make connections. Not for lack of trying, either.
Though quick to make a quip and never missing a chance to indulge in some self deprecation, it's seemingly not enough for people to latch onto. She might be a somewhat successful artist, but Verona's residents are in no hurry to hoist Vern up on their shoulders and exclaim their joy. Some might say she tries too hard. Vern disagrees. She doesn't try at all. All of who she is as a person is up front, it's up to others to take it or leave it; she's not about to make drastic changes even if it means a life of wanting.
History
Biography|
For as long as Laverne could remember, she was doodling. It started when she was a little girl, drawing little pictures so her mother could hang them on the fridge; of course, she never did - hang pictures on the fridge - since Vanessa Bryant was more concerned with finishing another bottle of wine than in praising the artistic work of her daughter. It wasn't a broken home, just an unfortunate one. Vanessa Bryant was addicted to wine and lotto tickets while Edward Bryant was having numerous affairs with his students - his position as a professor of literature at the local college did have its perks. His lecherous actions certainly explained the wine.
Laverne found refuge in art, needing an outlet to channel her creativity and lack of supervision and substantial affection shown to her in her formative years. After her mother passed away from alcohol poisoning, Vern was sent to live with her grandmother who had retired; there was no way Edward was going to raise a daughter on his own, what with his sexual escapades turning into a bit of a scandal on the news and all. Vern's grandmother, Laverne (hence the name) was a bit more accepting of her, in that she actually put a drawing on the wall. Granted, it was a drawing that was featured in the local newspaper, but it was the thought that counted above all.
Vern skated her way through high school, graduating just barely and not going onto college. She doubled down on her art, believing she could break into animation or some other art related industry. College was a waste of time, which she had, and money, which she did not. After graduating high school, Vern worked part time jobs while she built up a portfolio. After her grandmother passed away, Vern self-published a small little graphic novel that was a fictionalized version of her grandmother's life, which was highly embellished but they were based on stories told to her all the same.
That graphic novel was enough to get a meeting with a publishing house who offered her a contract to write a comic for their indie division; though the company was known for its tales of heroes and heronies, Vern offered only a biweekly comic about disaffected youths with a sharp art style. Her comic, 'Swingles' was a sarcastic look at modern dating through the eyes of an eternally single twenty-something. Observational humor mixed with relate-able characters made Swingles a bit of a hit among people that still read non-hero comics. Didn't exactly help Vern's personal and social life, but at least she was able to quit her burger flipping job before it became her career.
Vern has lived in various apartments since the death of her grandmother and she doubts she'll ever own a home. Apartments are fine and Suncrest is agreeable enough. It has pretty much everything she needs, other than human contact, and it is the perfect place to find inspiration to use in her art and cartooning. She dreams of being an animator but is, at the moment, content enough with her relative obscurity.
A Memory|
Thank God for editors. That was a joke, of course. No one in the industry, in any industry, was ever thankful for editors. Least of all editors that did not know or respect the simple courtesy of not ringing the phone every half hour. Some people might've been glad to have someone so concerned with their well-being but it only took one phone call for Vern to realize that the phone calls weren't to offer sweet words of recovery. The first call happened when Vern had just opened up the flood gates and let loose a deluge of blood that she hadn't seen since the first time she saw Carrie. At first Vern had assumed she would need to invest in some extra strength pads before she realized it came from her nose. In her defense, there was so much of it that it could've come from anywhere. It utterly ruined her favorite shirt. Probably for the best, all told, it could do with a wash.
The voice on the other end, as Vern was having the mother of all nosebleeds, her editor was screaming about the pages. She was behind. Normally she submitted her stuff weeks in advance, as was protocol, but Vern was nothing if not lazy and presently massively hung over. Or sick. Or both. Definitely both. With her nose gushing like a tsunami of blood she was in no position to draw or hilariously comment on the singles dating scene. She let her editor, the man could yell with the best of them, tire himself out before she promptly hung up to clean herself up.
Every time she was blessed with the ability to sleep the damn phone would ring - and not her mobile which was turned off lest she risk the urge to check her various dating profiles (seriously, how did so many people swipe left, was she that undesirable?) - this was the landline and the last time she unplugged the land line her landlady had a piss fit.
There was little to do other than listen to the angry messages of her editor as he swore up and down about how unprofessional Vern was being. She didn't ask for blood to pour and Aspirin to be as effective as natural cures. At least now she was recovered and could focus on her art work again. The first thing she did upon feeling better was turn on the television; it helped her relax and focus. Or so she told people that asked. In truth it just meant she spent more time watching soaps and daytime talk than actually drawing, inking, writing, and coloring. Vern flipped channels...it was Sunday..Sunday programming was largely sports related...which meant it was a cartoon sort of day.
Anything to not worry about work for just a little bit longer...
Struggles|
Vern struggles with her own inner feelings of inferiority and doubt stemming from her somewhat...unhygienic way of living. Her ineptitude with making true social connections plays into her fear that as she gets older she'll become less and less likely to ever make a human connection. Or a romantic one. She's wondering what will happen first: her comic getting made into a movie or her finding either a best friend or significant other.
Neither seem likely in her life time.
Family|
Father: Edward Bryant. Former college professor forced to retire after scandals involving improper student/teacher relationships.
Mother: Vanessa Bryant. Deceased. Alcohol poisoning.
Siblings: None |
8,697 | 246 | 11 | 1,201 | 1,268 | Aiden Langford
Interacting with: Damien Ramkin
Aiden was starting to get used to his new apartment. It didn't smell of apples and cinnamon like his old one did, but he welcomed the clean, odorless scent as a good change of pace. It was better than the sweaty grime that he was used to when he shared a room with his brother and he appreciated his new roommate for that. "Waking up with all of the blankets is also nice," he thought, perhaps trying too hard to look at his break up in a positive light. The warmth of the blanket made him reluctant to get up. So instead, he reached for his phone and began to scroll down on some of random social media app.
He instantly regretted his decision when he stumbled upon a picture of his ex with his friend Tyler. He was tempted to throw the phone at the wall, but instead dropped it on the bed beside him. He then tossed the cover off of himself and did his morning routine, trying not to let too many little things remind him of Val.
Once he was somewhat presentable, wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, he poured himself a bowl of cereal. As he mindlessly ate the bowl of off-brand Frosted Flakes, he realized that it was Sunday. He finally has a day off. No more packing, moving, and unpacking. No school because it's the weekend. The library was also closed on Sundays. And there he was. Finally alone with his thoughts. "Shit."
He quickly finished his breakfast and washed the dishes. He needed to get out and do something, meet people, or whatever. If he was lucky, his roommate would be somewhere down the hall. He had never gotten the chance to talk to his roommate beyond the basic introductions and house rules. Aiden hoped that he didn't seem rude but he had been on auto-pilot mode for the past couple of weeks. He slipped into his sneakers, and made it out the door. Of course, not forgetting to lock it after.
He then saw a familiar mop of dark hair and called out, "Damien!" He quickened his pace to catch up with his roommate. "H-how's it going, man? Sorry we never got to talk. I've been busy... You know how it is." He slid both his hands into his jean pockets and hoped that he didn't come across as weird as he thought he did. He forgot how hard it was to meet people. Like in the wild. | Full Name| Aiden James Langford
Nickname| AJ (But prefers Aiden over nicknames)
Gender| Male
Age| 25
Birthday| February 28th
Job/Education| Part-time Librarian and Substitute teacher
Room Number| 4C
How long have you been staying in Suncrest?| One week
About
Appearance|
In the looks department, Aiden is an average guy through and through. He wears simple t-shirts and jeans whenever he can, makes no attempts to tame his wavy hair, and shaves his face daily as part of his morning routine. When he is teaching, he puts a little bit of effort by wearing a long-sleeved button-up and slacks. He has no scars or tattoo, but he has a birthmark in the shape of a S-shaped blob on his lower back.
He stands at the white male average height of 5"10 and has a lanky build, which often makes him seem like the younger brother rather than the older one. He only works out when his friends prod him to go with them, so he isn't in the best shape. He is also rather pale because of his tendency of staying indoors.
Interests|
- Books
- Horror Movie Marathons
- Teas
- Cooking
Fears|
- The idea of having an unfulfilling life
- Spiders
- Never finding love again
Sexuality| Heterosexual
Personality|
Aiden is an admirer of the English language and somewhat of a romantic because of it. He understands the power of words and how they can have a large effect on people depending on what was said. Therefore, he is very careful with his words unless he is feeling nervous, which seems to throw his mental dictionary out the door. At the same time, he is rather sensitive to what people say about him and feels insecure easily when ill things are said of him.
If asked, Aiden will say that he generally likes people. He likes to have faith in humanity and their capability of doing good. So he tries to keep an open mind about others and learn their side of the story before passing any judgement. But he is still human, so he is still prone to wrong judgement and it is hard for him to change it once he makes it.
History
Biography|
Being the son of a teacher, Aiden grew up to become an advocate of education. He always took his studies seriously and was an A/B student, his weakest subject being science. His father was strict and originally wanted Aiden to work at the sites with him, but gave up once he saw that his son wasn't cut out for physical labor. On the other hand, his mother is delighted that Aiden will be following her footstep and by becoming a teacher.
During his time in university, he fell in love with a girl and they began dating. After their graduation, they found an apartment together and he began working as a librarian in between the times he wasn't substitute teaching. His life wasn't quite where he wanted it, but it was a start.
After four years of dating, she broke up with him and moved out of their apartment. Soon, he decided to move as well. Everything there reminded him of her and he needed a change of pace. Fortunately, he found an ad for a room at Suncrest Heights and decided to apply for it.
He wanted to move as soon as possible.
A Memory|
The beginning of his failed relationship:
A gorgeous girl with long, sandy blonde hair and sunkissed skin walked into the classroom and it was a miracle that she had decided to take the seat next to him. She flashed him a sweet smile and he already felt himself melting. His palms were sweating as he attempted to smile back at her, which was apparently more funny than charming as she made a strange face before laughing. Her laugh sent shivers down his spine.
Thoroughly embarrassed, he focused his attention at the professor lecturing about Ernest Hemingway. He refused to let himself look at her,
even though he could feel her gaze on him. When the excruciating long hour of class was over, he stayed in his seat a little longer to ensure he did not have to interact with the girl once more. When he thought it was safe, he picked up his stuff and got out of his seat.
A folded piece of paper fell from the top of his binder. He could guess what it was, but he didn't believe it. He slowly opened it up.
"(XXX) XXX-XXXX - Val"
He tucked the paper in his pocket, and hummed a little as he left the classroom to meet his friends.
Struggles|
Aiden has just gotten dumped by his girlfriend of four years and isn't handling it well at all. If he is not at work, he is often listening to sad break up music in his room and groaning. Also, it turns out she left him for one of his mates so he has been disassociating himself from his normal group of friends.
Family|
- Father: James Langford, a construction worker of a few words. He loves his family but doesn't show it very often which lead to tension between him and Aiden. They're working on it.
- Mother: Ashley Langford, a fourth grade teacher who loves to dote on her students and her sons. Aiden is admittedly a mama's boy and keeps in touch with her regularly.
- Brother: Jake Langford, his younger brother who is currently playing basketball on a collegiate level and Aiden is very proud of him. Jake had always been the more athletic of the brothers which used to lead to conflicts when they were younger but now they are supportive of each other.
Theme Song:
Extras: Wants to be a high school English Teacher |
8,698 | 246 | 12 | 92 | 2,185 | Katie slowly rises from her slumber to the faint sounds of talking. Groggily she reached over to her bedside table for her phone to see that it was just after 8:30. Groaning she covered her face with her arm. She didn't feel like getting up but knew it'd probably be best if she did. She sat up outta bed and started heading for the bathroom in order to get a nice dose of hot water to the face in order to wake up.
Minutes later the red head exited the bathroom heading back to her room. She decided to just throw on some comfortable casual clothes because she didn't feel like going to church or anywhere really today. Picking her phone back up she saw a text from Alex. Grunting she silenced the phone. Katie wasn't in the mood to deal with anything this early. Walking to the main room she saw the majority of her new roommates chatting up. She waved to them as she walked towards the fridge. She produced out of it the rest of the smoothie she had from last night. Turning to her roommates she said, "Did I hear the word free?" | Full Name| Katie Pruett
Nickname| Kat(Doesn't like the nickname)
Gender| Female
Age| 22
Birthday| February 8
Job/Education| Works at the Rabbit Hole/Studying Journalism at Wallace Community College
Room Number| 4F
How long have you been staying in Suncrest?| 1 week and 3 days
About
Appearance|
Katie Pruett stands at a height of 5'5", but don't let her short stature fool you. Her hair is a natural red, but occasionally she will dye it to make it a brighter red. Her eyes are that of a deep hazel that she often uses to stare into the souls of anyone she is annoyed by or hates. Just a joke but many think of her eyes as like daggers sometimes.
Her attire is typically centered around whatever toboggan she is wearing that day. She owns quite of few of them. From there it depends on how casual or dressed up she wants to be. Her casual attire will either be some sort of sweater, skirt, and jacket or overalls paired with a t-shirt. She refuses to wear high heels and usually has on sneakers or some nice boots. When she is dressing up she has two suits and a semi-nice dress. She does take off the toboggan when she's dressing up.
The only other noticeable features about her are the numerous freckles lining her face and a singular scar on the front of her right knee from when she had to have surgery for a sports accident. Other than that there is really nothing else distinguishable about her appearance.
Interests|
Stars in the sky
Sports
Working
Learning the truth/Finding the facts
Doing better than show offs, jerks, bullies, and other similar people
Bragging about it to those kinds of people
Fears|
Losing her friends
Something bad happening to her sisters
Hurting someone
Sexuality| Heterosexual
Personality|
Katie is very strong-willed. Out of the four females in her family, she became more of a tomboy. She did all the dirty work around their small home, and was the emotional backbone, alongside her mother, for both her sisters. She is very defensive of her friends and when she gets an idea in her mind she won't back down until forced to or if a close friend does something, and that doesn't even always work.
She is a very secretive person and will move to take care of others long before dealing with her emotional issues often breaking down when alone for too long. Despite her bossy and stubborn personality, she can be a great ally and wonderful friend. Just avoid getting on her bad side.
History
Biography|
Katie's life hasn't necessarily been easy. It all started a few months before she and her twin sister, Maizey, were born. Annabelle and her husband were already taking care of a one-year-old Caroline when they became aware that they would be having twins. At first, everything seemed alright, but about a month before the twins birth the man up and vanished leaving Annabelle to raise a one-year-old with two more on the way.
It wasn't at all easy. They barely had enough for all four to eat. When they got older the three girls did what they could to help. While Annabelle took on as many jobs as she could handle the three girls did what they could to protect and comfort each other. Despite the occasional fight, usually started by Katie, the girls always stuck together. They even had the same friends for the most part. During high school, the three started going separate ways with their lives. Caroline sought the life of educating children, Maizey wanted to help save lives, and Katie desired to bring truth to the forefront of peoples lives.
When it came time for choosing school after high school Katie wanted to get close to DC where a large majority of the political action tended to happen. Out of everyone she knew only one person was going to the same school as she was. This made things difficult for her to make friends seeing as she isn't inherently the kindest person out there. She and her friend, whose name is Alex, made sure for the first year that they'd stick together as much as possible since he wasn't the most open guy either. They spent so much time together that they eventually grew closer together than normal friends. Half way through their second semester of freshman year they started dating. They even got an apartment for themselves.
Skip to three months before the summer before their senior year and Katie and Alex are contemplating splitting up or having a long distance relationship. With Katie staying in the area to continue schooling and Alex going to Chicago for his career. She'd never tell anyone but it makes her pissed that he didn't ask her opinion about it before he decided he would go. So, now she is alone except for a few friends where most are only just a little bit more than acquaintances. Not wanting to be in their apartment by herself she moved to Suncrest Heights in order to surround herself with new people.
A Memory|
"Thanks for coming to help me move." Was what Katie said as she opened the door to her three closest friends in the world. Her sisters and Alex's sister, Kiley. Caroline spoke up saying, "It's no big deal. You'd do the same." The four began packing up various small things that Katie wanted to take with her. The movers would have to come later and get the bigger furniture that was going with her. While Caroline and Maizey cleared out the living room/kitchen Katie and Kiley worked Katie's bedroom.
After awhile Kiley looked to Katie and said, "You sure that you're alright about it." Katie put the box she was working on down and sighed. "Look, I said it's fine so it's fine. That's how he is and I know that. Anyway, it's between me and him. We'll figure things out." Katie didn't want to close off to her friend just because she was mad at Alex. Honestly, she didn't want to talk about this with anyone. Her friends and sisters were just way too talkative about emotions that they were making everything harder. She'd need to make sure to face time Alex tonight and talk things over. "Let's just get this over with, please."
Struggles|
Pissed at Alex but doesn't know what to do about their relationship. As of right now, the two are trying the long distance thing.
Feels somewhat lonely due to not having many friends right now.
Family|
Father: Has never met her father
Mother: Annabelle Pruett - 43 - Daycare owner
Sisters: Caroline Pruett - 23 - Kindergarten teacher
Maizey Pruett - 22 - Studying to be a Docter
Theme Song:
Extras: Need help with the room thing and with a theme song. I've always had trouble with theme songs. |
8,699 | 246 | 13 | 1,313 | 1,439 | Jeanne Croft
"Thats good." Jeanne smiled. Accidentally causing someone to break something would be a fantastic way to start off her Sunday morning, that was for sure. As for where she lived... Well, she supposed it was the same complex, not like she would be super safe if the lady was some kind of rapist... Even though Jeanne was pretty sure she wouldn't mind that considering how little she had been getting any this past... Well, this past whole of her life. "Yeah, I'm just in 4G. It's ah, one of the singles."
She stuck her hand out again, this time not to help her up but to greet her, when she saw a familiar slob walk out of her room and shuffle along. Verne. Since when was Verne up before 11 on a Sunday? And more importantly, when did she leave her room? The scientist knew it was weird for neat-freak her to be friends with Vern, but even she had to admit that sitting in a room being so intimately comfortable with yourself was pretty nice. Sometimes she envied the other girl for being able to not have the urge to immediately wash everything up, and then she remembered that she only visited 4A, and didn't spend her actual life there.
Whew, that was a kinda long thought, and here she was standing awkwardly. Waving her friend over, and hoping this new girl didn't get freaked out by her, she smacked herself on her head once her hand was shaken. "My bad, I didn't even give you my name. Jeanne. Jeanne Croft." | Full Name::
Jeanne Gorgina Croft
Nickname:
Jeanne, (To most people) JJ, (To friends) Georgie, (To her SO/Family) G-J (Nobody calls her this.) She's pretty straight-laced.
Gender:
Female
Age:
22
Birthday:
She has one.
Job/Education:
She works at a pharmacutical labratory doing cosmetic tests in Washington DC, as well as small time modelling jobs. Any rumours of her having a cam site are FALSE AND WRONG and should be dismissed. Any viewing of said camsite is equally FALSE AND WRONG, and the person is actually her twin sister. Any rumours she doesn't have a twin sister is FALSE AND WRONG.
Room Number:
4G
Time in Suncrest:
Just over a month. She's kept to herself too, so she barely knows anyone.
Appearance:
Jeanne is not someone that cares much about their appearance. Whilst working, she obviously has her hair tightly secured and wears a lab coat/goggles, but underneath that she tends to wear what she wears litterally all the time: a t-shirt and yoga pants. It's pretty comfy, and she doesn't care what people think. She has no tattoos, but has three pericings on both of her ears, one in her nose, and one in her belly button. If she puts a stud inside is quite a different matter. She also has a nasty chemical burn on her left thigh, which she doesn't like to talk about.
Interests:
Films: ]Particularly cult classics. Jeanne is a massive cinema buff, and she absolutely adores chilling out in front of the TV watching a film.
EDM Music:Jeanne bought a set of expensive headphones specifically so she could get better sound quality for her music. Her music player is filled with The Prodigy, Pendulum, Pegboard Nerds, Knife Party and far more.
Reading: Jeanne will devour literature, make no mistake. Any book within reach will be practically inhaled by her, and she has a far-ranging taste in literature. And very strong opinions too.
Fears:
Lab accidents: She really doesn't like talking about this one, but she is insanely cautious when it comes to anything in a lab.
Going blind: One of her reoccurring and most primal fears, not helped by a prescription that seemingly changes at will.
Centipedes: Spiders, she can handle. Anything with that many legs is not to be trusted.
Sexuality:
Anything. She's been pretty asexual for most of her life, and it's really only now she's found out how much she likes intimate relationships.
Theme Song:
A Memory
Possibly the memory that sticks in her head the most is when she realised that she could make cash in the adult industry. She's a pretty shy girl who never really thought she looked that good (low self esteem is fun,) but suddenly random strangers gave her money for jilling off?
Biography:
Born an only child to a Russian immigrant and a Washington local, Jeanne didn't have an easy childhood. Her father worked as a mechanic- a damn good one mind, but still a mechanic, and her mother a nurse at an ER clinic, and on the time she was off, she worked odd jobs- whatever was paying, which was mostly maid work. Determined to earn enough cash for her parents when they were older, Jeanne was a dedicated student, and was willing to plunge herself deep into debt in order to one day crawl out.
She works as a student of medicine and virology, with hopes of joining the CDC or MSF, although for now she'd be happy to pass her exams and make it as a qualified doctor and virologist. Since the local community college isn't great when it comes to her field, she has to make a commute into the city proper almost every day. Rent's cheap though, so she's glad to sacrifice some sleep for some security. She does modelling on the side, although she's recently scored a small contract with a glasses firm, which she has fingers crossed will work out.
When she's out and about, she nearly always has two things in her hands- a smoothie, and papers. Or a research book. Or a tablet with research papers on it. Or just a medical textbook. Honestly, if she isn't studying, she's either sick, or too tired and her brain too numb to actually study.
Apparently she was cool. Anyone want to be friends with a geeky med student? |
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