Futuristic DROP DEAD GORGEOUS - CHARACTERS

[Malphaestus]

Thanks to Enmyira for the wonderful roleplay image​

Drop Dead Gorgeous, a Science-Fiction military roleplay following the 715th Armored Recon in their ventures into the first interstellar war in human history. Affiliated with the federal Interstellar Union of Nations, humanity takes to the stars with a thrist for blood after a horrifying incident in one of the capital city of Europaia's districts. You will participate in this story as a member of the Fifteenth Plutoon, 715th Armored Recon as they lead the tip of the spear in a Force Recon operation marking the beginning to the first war for more than three centuries.

This is my first character-driven roleplay in a while, so bear with me. Any assistance would be highly appreciated, of course, but I won't force it out of you. This is the Character Sheets section. Here you will submit your character sheets based on a character sheet of which I willy provide. Do not, however, that I am not by any means the best at making character sheets, so if you want to, then feel free to expand on my foundational baseline.

Fireteam Makeup:
+ Fireteam Leader (Grenadier. I will designate and update your CS if you accept the role).
+ Designated Marksman.
+ Automatic Riflemen.
+ Riflemen.
+ Riflemen.

Ideal Squad Makeup (Default):
+ Team Leader (Me).
+ Combat Medical Technicians (Reserved).
+ Fireteam Leader (Reserved).
+ Fireteam Leader (Grenadiers. I will designate).
+ Designated Marksman (Reserved).
+ Designated Marksman.
+ Automatic Riflemen (Reserved).
+ Automatic Riflemen.
+ Riflemen (Reserved).
+ Riflemen (Reserved).
+ Riflemen.
+ Riflemen.


Name: Your name, it is simple. Taylor Taylorsen, or whatever else it might be. Do notice that you may include a nickname here, but being called "Dark Reaper" might not exactly make any sense, and if you insist on people calling you that in real life, they'd probably make fun of you. This is a sensible roleplay, so do keep that in mind.

Designation: Simply put in layman's terms, your class. Are you an automatic riflemen? The team's designated marksman? What is your qualifications in the unit. I'll be keeping an eye on this, and limit the availability of the classes as characters become available. To help those who don't know about the general duties of a soldier in a fireteam or a frontline unit, most soldiers will be Riflemen and utilize the typical rifle like AR-15s, Automatic Riflemen will utilize heavier purpose weaponry with intention of suppression and fire-support on the immediate frontlines, weapons like the M249. Designated marksmen utilize semi-automatic rifles like the MK12 SPR, and their prime duty is the localize and eliminate individual threats across greater distances than what most other teammates would manage. Frontline Medics are equipped with the base supplies necessary to keep a team fighting in the middle of the battlefield, without having to retreat, and their work is perhaps some of the most significant and stressful of all teammates. In addition there may be more roles available, and if you have an idea, then simply fly it by me. I am open to almost anything so long as it makes sense.

+ Riflemen - The proud backbone of any military unit, the RIflemen is the standard soldier in more ways than one; equipped with some of the most reliable and universal gear and munitions, the Riflemen is never at a loss for ammunition or supplies. For this reason, they are given the most arduous task of being universally relied upon for almost any task.

+ Automatic Riflemen - The defender of the team, the AR's main mission objective in the unit is to ensure suppression and security for the team, often relied upon for single-handedly defending flanks and other important objectives. Objectively the most heavily armed of any military infantry unit, the AR is as close to an IFV as you get on foot.

+ Designated Marksmen - Deadshots and skilled target elimination specialists, the DM is usually working in close coordination with teamleaders and other officers to ensure that the team is able to operate as safely as can be by eliminating high priority targets from a distance.

+ Combat Medical Technicians - The most vital of ordinary frontline designations, the Medic is the literal supplyline by which health is measured for the team on the battlefield. Capable of basic life-saving procedures and general armour-repair techniques, the Medic is the measurement in which most teams count their combat effectiveness, with the best medics being capable of not only maintaining their supplies for as long as humanly possible, but also prioritizing the health and importance of their patients on the battlefield.

+ Team Leaders - The brains and head of any frontline engagement, the Team Leader is the most important role in any team, sometimes even dwarfing that of the Medic themselves if skilled enough. The moral foundation of the unit, capable of leading their fellow men and women in arms when they need it most, the Team Leader is the person who represents the team's values and skill.

+ Specialists (ask me if you want to have some form of Specialist designation) - The Specialist is where any unit recieves their ace in the hole, so to speak, with specialist designations come many seperate tasks and objectives that a soldier has to understand and accomplish in addition to their standard designation. Any soldier can have an additional specialist designation, although no unit has more specialists than any other within their greater collective. This means that no squad within the 715th has more or less specialists than any other, and most specialist roles are familiar across all units; such as Combat Psychologists and Anti-Tank specialists (OOC, this means that if you want to have a Specialist designation in addition to your standard one, then you'll have to run your idea with me and I may or may not accept it depending on how logical its existence within the unit would be).

Age: Your age, no greater than 50, and no lower than 18. Age-cancelling medication does ensure that people maintain their prime for longer, but this is the military, and it is no surprise to anyone that you will work your body to the bone, and degrade physically quicker than most.

Gender: Your gender/sex, whatever it is named. This is not my best subject, so it depends on whatever organ they have. If they're something else, then keep that in the personality.

Heritage: Where does your character originate from? Do they care for their home, or simply abhor its existence? How do you view your heritage, and has it influenced your reason for joining the military? Has it influenced your decision to partake in the first expedition beyond the Stellar Barrier that once locked humanity within the Pegasus Cluster? A general place for you to tell the rest of us where your character comes from, and a great place for you to come up with your own place within the IUN's sphere. I left the IUN's domain as open as possible, so feel free to innovate and come up with your own ideas and locales within the nine planets.

Appearance: Describe your character's appearance as well as provide a picture if possible. If you feel like you can't do both, provide a written description.

Personality: Inform us all about your character's interests, their complex thought processes, and how he/she has viewed life up until now. His/her outlook on life and how they manage to survive everyday normalcy.

Background: Provide us some history. I have generalized the vastness of the IUN for this purpose; so that you can make interesting character backgrounds and ideas that I hadn't ever thought about. This is my most favourite section, with personality being second.

Joining: Maybe surprising to some, but the introduction is merely that, and does not necessarily explain your character's point of view. Make an IC blurb about how you acquired the will and resolve to join the military, and what spurred it in you; was it a childhood dream? Vengeance against the unknown that threatened to destroy us that fateful day? Hopefulness at the sight of green lands and blue waters; a perfect world beyond the former impenetrable, now passable, barrier?

Ideals: What is your character's principles? The Unit has its own, but you have yours. Go against the unit and the unit goes against you, but cross yours and you will deliver what pain you can. What is your deepest principle and axiom that has driven you so far?

Strenghts: What is that one unique thing that only you can bring to the table? What makes YOU a core aspect of one of the best, one of the most proud, and one of the most vicious of units in the IUN? What makes you deserve the badge of the 715th?

Weaknesses: Weakness is not surprise to anyone, we all have them. What matters is find a brother or sister that can keep your six. What is your weakness? That one thing you really wish the enemy didn't know about you? Maybe it's something intangible, maybe it's something more material.

Interests: What do you find fascinating? Something that keeps you going when sheer determination and willpower aren't enough to make your feet move in the harsh marching across the battlefield? If you could introduce something to someone, what would it be?

Quirks: Something that makes you a bit, well, special. We all have them, like it or not. Some people smack their lips when frustrated, some people scream uncontrollably at the slightest touch of aggression. Some people have more normal quirks than others. What is yours?

Bonds: Do you have a battlebond? On the battlefield there is no greater thing than the friendship you forge with those around you. It may take time for some, and some may forge them immediately. Do you have any battlebond? A Sibling-in-Arms? (Basically if you expect to collaborate with someone else. This will be filled in dynamically by me if you leave it open based on your character interactions).

 

[Malphaestus]

22nd "Ocelot" Brigade
Alexandros Schwart
STAFF SERGEANT - 715th Armored Recon
---
Thirtyseven Years Old​

Name: Alexandros Belisaros Schwart.

Nickname(s): Alexi, Alexios, Alessi, Bel.

Age: 37. Born on the 8th of March, 2354.

Gender: M01 - Male.

Alexandros Schwart is a story-character, and will therefore not be entirely explored in matters of his backstory and other information regarding him. This is done intentionally, and is not meant to be some sort of "I'm the GM so I can skip doing stuff" laziness. The entirety of his existence will be expanded and revealed as the story goes on. I am not beyond other people following a similar approach to their characters. However, I request that each section is filled out when making your own characters, as it helps me as the GM understand how they fit into the world better. With story-characters, I already hold this understanding, hence why I choose to omit certain information for the sake of the roleplayer's experience.

Heritage: Nativeborn Gestirnburger; Türm-district, Bismarck, Bitterrhein. Alexandros was born and bred from the harsh realities one will find within the bitter walls of a socially defeated Gestirnburg. With the rebellion of the Teutonic Templars widespread and their propaganda and ideals far reaching within the greyness of the planet Gestirnburg, it was hard to not be influenced by their authority that they once held over the entire planet. His parents, a greek mother, and what is called a teutonic father with germanic descent, had him indoctrinated within the lifestyles and ideas that the Teutonic Templars had festered even after their demise. Thanks only to the Rebirth Project orchestrated by the IUN after the descent of one of its fiercest rivals, Alexandros was able to find a new life within the military away from the corruption that the IUN has proven dominates the planet. He was able to escape the tension and find a new life within the military, and has never since left. Now, he believes that his only heritage is that of the IUN's Gestirnburgers.

Designation:
+ Squad Leader - The step above a team leader, the Squad Lead is the backbone and foundation in which a squad follows and operates under. The director of the military orchestra, so to speak, which operates and functions of the battlefield. Alexandros was transfered from the 1st "Eagle" Brigade in a somewhat unusual manner between the 1st Bismarck Mechanized Guard and the 715th Armored Recon. During his introduction to the unit, few words were mentioned about the nature of the transfer, and soldiers are left to their own thoughts on the matter.

+ Specialist (Combat Psychologist) - A combat psychologist is no unique specialist designation on the modern battlefield. With the rise and success of psychological research and health-based science orientations found within much of the IUN's research branches and institutions, the health and functionality of its subjects and citizens has taken a major priority since the IUN's inception. With each military squad having access to a battlefield professional, it is believed that performance will increase over time. Though if you ask Alexandros, he's only a psychologist on the battlefield, so don't go bother him with your thoughts when outside of one.

---​

Appearance: A tall and somewhat imposing figure which, whilst slender, is built and compacted like that of rock. Powerful muscle and an apt endurance, he seems somewhat superhuman at first glance. His tall aethletic body not seeming to harbour as much strenght as it in-fact does, he can often be relied upon for both mental and physical support. Though beneath his clothes are signs of prolonged genetherapy and cell-regeneration, typical signs of combat veterancy; in fact his right arm has typical limb regrowth scar tissue across the lower lenght of the forearm. His face, however, seems eeriely devoid of similar signs of past damage, carrying with it two bright emerald-tinged eyes and a shorter-than-average nose structure with a pointy end. Due to regulations being far less stiff within that of the Gestirnburgers than most other branches of the military, his head is filled by a rather unkept 'bush' of dark grey hair which is tied into place once the battle armour has to be suited up. Whilst away from the front, he prefers to use his glasses, though on the battlefield he changes over to a more combat-compatible pair of self-insert lenses.

Along his lower-left neck is a partially obscured "TT" tattoo, a common denominator used within the Teutonic Templar organization. When asked abouts its purpose or significance, Alexandros will meet your curiosity with a hateful gaze of uncooperativity. Though due to his long history with the military, it has apparently not paid much of a role in his vetting process, so its significance is all up in the air at this point.

Personality: Alexandros is a partial stoic, partial emotional dreadnought, and a partially playful cat. An individual whose personality has been enriched by the multitudes of situations he has been forced to endure and live through. His bad memories of his household have left a large impact on him, and he shows this easily through his distancing from the civilian lifestyle and instead embodying the many cultural rituals and behaviours synonymous with not only the Gestirnburgers as a military organization, but also those which his life within the 1st "Eagle" Brigade brought to him. At first he might seem flat, boring, and one dimensional, though his avid love for animals and wildlife will catch many by surprise as he would skip in joy at the sight of a pet rushing towards him on the streets. His childishness can, in fact, utterly demolish any pre-conceptions about the man should any such scenario come to pass during one's time with him.

Otherwise he is an utterly analytical and pragmatic existence rich with words, but lacking much desire to speak them. He is fully capable of teaching you and helping you with almost anything, though rarely does so unless it is done in accordance with his military role as a Squad Leader and therefore a Leader of Individuals in a highly hostile environment. His ranks within the military were earned through grinding from the bottom and upwards, and his atypical leadership is a sign of this, often lacking the regular charisma and leadership otherwise associated with those within the leadership role. Though his prowess at his job, and his frankly excellent record and performance as a soldier carries with it a charisma and respect of its own. He is a man prone to mysteries regarding him, and many soldiers within the 715th have already started spreading all manners of rumors, playful and serious.

Strenghts:
+ Capable Leader - Alexandros IS a capable leader, though he might not show it in the most usual of ways. His skills at what he does can even be surreal at times.
+ Incredible Senses - Alexandros is quick to spot the dangers that may approach, and during the training expercises that the Squad had with him, the performance of the unit itself was increased nigh-threefold under his guidance.
+ Good Aim - Though he does not wield any form of long-range engagement instrument, the Staff Sergeant is capable of eliminating threats at close range with almost guaranteed accuracy, rarely missing his enemy once he engages them with his rifle.

Weaknesses:
+ Distant - Alexandros appears to not fully be able to relate to his soldiers, and might in fact be purposely distancing himself from them. This is quite paradoxical, and has his immediate commanding officer in quite the disarray. He seldom explains his orders, and expects his soldiers to follow them as per military protocol. When questioned, he seems incapable of explaining himself, almost freezing completely.
+ Hyperaware - Alexandros is an immensely calculative person, and this plays in to his performance on the battlefield in both positive and negative manners. His mind seems to be contemplating far too many variables far too many times for the fluidity of combat and therefore the performance of his team.
+ Does Not Follow the Flow - Alexandros is a skilled combatant and leader sure, but he is not a very good human. The 'flow' of combat and the performance that follows it is something that Alexandros does not seem to understand or follow.

 

[ONI]

|| Name: Viljami Moustapha Saastamoinen.
|| Other Names: "Vil", Viljam", "Jami". "Saasa".
|| Age: Thirty (30).
|| Gender: Male.
|| Heritage: Viljami is a descendant of the first colonists. A true Tienidesian through and through, even if he doesn't fit the typical image of one. Mixed Afro-Eurasian descent. Predominantly Sub-Saharan African with notable European and minor East Asian ancestry within the last three generations. All having been born or raised in the Great Peaks province. The Senegalese settlers that oddly arrived with the Finnish settlers helped build the dome of Vaasa, going on to create one of the most culturally diverse habitats on the planet, seeing the pioneers form "Vaasa-Wolof" or "Uusi Suomi" (Relative to the speaker) as a sort of creole which would become their common language.

|| Identification: INN//044-93664-553-VS.
|| Branch: Interstellar Nations' Navy.
|| Part of: Fleet Strategic Control Team.
|| Time in Service: 9 Active Years, 4 Academic Years [Naval War College of Tienides].
|| Rank: Petty Officer 2nd Class.
|| Designation: Specialist.

• INN/NSO-4505 | Commando, Fleet Pathfinder.
• INN-9190 | Enlisted Naval Gunfire Liaison.

|| Unit Assignments:

• 229th Signals Squadron [SF] -- Special Warfare Communicator.
• 8th Navy Commando Battalion [COIN] -- 229th Special Attache.
• Tienidesian School of Military Signals -- Junior Instructor (Mandatory Short Term Rotation).
• Fleet Strategic Command Team -- Commando, Fleet Pathfinder
• 715th Armoured Recon Battalion -- FSCT Special Attache.

|| Personal Expertise:

• Assault/Landing/Drop Zone Establishment. Air Traffic Control. Fire Support.
• Special Reconnaissance. Survive, Evade, Resist, Extract. Surveillance and Target Acquisition.

|| Appearance: Dark skinned with healthy black hair shaven down into a generous but clearly militarised hightop fade that just about skirts Navy regulations, leaving the afro curls a good inch or two longer than most infantrymen. Contrasting the fashionably styled hair on his head, the man's face is left un-flattered by a thick old school "dad of three" moustache and is sometimes obscured by a pair of rectangular reading glasses. While stood at a respectable 6 foot 1 and weighing in solid at 200 or so pounds of excessively tattooed and undefined muscularity, Saastamoinen is ultimately unremarkable amongst special operators, easily blending with civilians and service personnel alike without issue yet capable of holding his own, whether it be running marathons or squaring up with the nastiest.

|| Personality: Built up and clothed by the INN, Saastamoinen's a highly motivated and dedicated serviceman. Almost a physical embodiment of it. Swift to act, whether they're positive actions or not, and bold enough to take everything head on. Another word, moto or "motarded" as most would say also often follows up those last two. Sometimes he can come across as a bit of a dickhead, simply because an inherently sarcastic individual that at times just doesn't know when to stop talking.

|| Background: Born in the dome city of Vaasa and raised on it's streets. Though born with loving parents, both were lost during the last major mining accident in the Rift that killed 57 and seriously injured over 200. Normally he'd have been properly taken care of but unfortunately Viljam managed to slip through the cracks through no fault of his own. Growing up without them was hard but far from impossible. Squatting became a part of his lifestyle. Stopping wherever and for however long seemed possible before moving on to the next place, yet even still he tried his best to keep the places he stayed in undamaged and in somewhat good order. The experiences hardened him but never soured nature, hoping his kindness would be returned one day and around the time he turned sixteen a new scheme was put into place. One that sought to get the relatively small population of "displaced" Tienidesians back into education and potentially work. To Saastamoinen it was a sign that his kindness was being repaid.

Though much of it was in the public services and required service upon completion or upon graduation this was less deterring and more inspiring to Vil, knowing at the end of it all he'd be housed and properly fed with moneu steady fill his pockets. Just shy of seventeen, and after an almost ten month work up to get him back onto a competitive level of education, Saastamoinen was enrolled into the Navy War College taking one of the biggest leaps of his life, but not as a midshipman. Instead he was apart of the pioneer class of enlisted sailors that had enlisted through the still experimental scheme, while expected to be too difficult for most candidates and hopefully kill interest in a second class it went on to indadvertedly produce some of the best and most motivated graduates of that year. A sort of con, a catch 22 that is to this day unknown to Vil. The following four years were some of the toughest he'd been through but for reasons differing drastically than in the past. Classroom work was incredibly demanding for him, to the point that he thought about quitting but his roommate, Aino Ketola an actual officer candidate, kept him on the straight and narrow.

After graduating Viljami did a stint in a combined arms signals unit, which saw him serve as a special warfare communicator with a commando battalion, participating in a few counter-terror and anti-piracy operations throughout IUN territories. Receiving a wide array of training and some combat experience, albeit against traffickers, organised crime rings and the odd insurgent cell but experience non-the-less, doing a brief rotation as a signals coach before his eventual decision to become a Pathfinder. In the end Petty Officer Saastamoinen made the Navy home. It'd given him an education, a career and a family and throughout his eight or so years in the INN had grown, learned and played his part in keeping the peace but most importantly loved and lost, loving the three beautiful children he'd help create but sadly losing his old academy roommate turned girlfriend to the Europaia attack.

|| Joining: Saastamoinen's joining with the military was more out of necessity than patriotism or an initial sense of duty. Without much going for him it was an easy way out. While he might have initially joined for the money his time at the War College shifted him into a proud serviceman to be, ultimately seeing him stay for the sense of belonging and duty it had instilled in him.

|| Ideals: Knowing his place in the overall grand scheme of things, Viljami is all about saving lives and finishing his mission. Saastamoinen likes to believe that when push comes to shove he'd sit tight and see gun runs guided in against hostiles encroaching on friendlies, even if it meant he might not see the day's end. Most importantly though he's all about doing it right.
|| Strengths: Crisis Management. Highly Reserved.
|| Weaknesses: Percussive Maintenance. Space Travel.
|| Interests: Communications Systems. Human History.
|| Quirks:
|| Bonds: Unknown.

 

[shadowz1995]

Accepted.



Name: Hector "Doc" De La Rio

Designation: Field Medic

+ Combat Medical Technicians - The most vital of ordinary frontline designations, the Medic is the literal supplyline by which health is measured for the team on the battlefield. Capable of basic life-saving procedures and general armour-repair techniques, the Medic is the measurement in which most teams count their combat effectiveness, with the best medics being capable of not only maintaining their supplies for as long as humanly possible, but also prioritizing the health and importance of their patients on the battlefield.



Age: 44

Gender: Male

Heritage: Hector comes from Hispanic descent and was raised on that culture and values. Venezuelan, to be specific. A specific country from the ancient era with primarily Spanish speakers and culture. It's been many centuries since but Hector's family line has managed to keep the tradition well and alive. Even if it is only within their family line.

Appearance: Hector is roughly 6'2 with 200 pounds of conditioned muscle. He has a rather rugged appearance and rough hands that don't feel like they belong to a former doctor. His skin a natural tanned color, has unkempt, short salt-and-pepper hair, and light brown eyes.

Personality: There are two sides to the man known as Hector. The first is the doctor side of him. The one that spent all those years and money on med school to become the successful doctor he is. The one that swore by the hippocratic oath and upheld it for years. The family man who loves children, compassionate, and unbelievably loyal.

The other side of him is the fighter. The one that is as fierce and ferocious as he is caring. The side of him that is willing to do anything necessary to save those around him. The side of him that drove him to join the military despite his age.

Background: Born and raised in Europaia in Earth, one of the wealthiest places in the IUN. If not the wealthiest. Hector grew up in a upper-class Hispanic family and had always aspired to follow in his parents footsteps. Both of them were respected medical professionals and he has no shame that he wanted to be just like mommy or daddy. The man spent many years trying to get on the fast track to med school and many more years learning his craft. One would think that having been born on the lap of luxury would make someone a brat but that couldnt be further from the truth. Although he was raised in the good life, his parents had made sure that he had the moral and ethics of the less fortunate ingrained into him from an early age. Hector knew what it was to work hard and build something to call your own as soon as he was old enough to start working. He was born with a strong work ethic and it was reinforced during his childhood and adolescence.

After the event that got his wife and daughter killed, Hector joined the military at 39 and has spent the last 5 years in the service as a combat medic. He had amassed a small fortune with his work as a doctor and has used that money to pay for his daughter's college tuitions. Turns out, she is more like him than he realized, as she is also following in his footsteps. He supports her as best he can and is often seen giving her advice over the phone or giving her the answers to her homework.

Joining:
"It was when I was in a theme park. I was with my wife and kids. We were standing in line to buy entry when everything went to hell. I could hear the security at the entrance arguing with someone. It sounded like a woman. The arguing soon turned to yelling and I only had time to turn my head and take a step back. The woman had ran through security and was sprinting towards the bag check.

I remember moving my kids back a bit before... nothing. It was like God had just turned off the lights.

I started coming to a few seconds after. Everything was blurred, my ears were ringing, and my head felt like it was filled with wet cotton. Everytime I tried to stand, my body would collapse to one side. The ringing subsided after some time and I began to hear the muffled cries. The screams. They still haunt me to this day.

It all started to come into focus when I realized the devastation around me. Dead, dying, maimed, and discombobulated lay over the place. The aftermath of a bomb the woman had been carrying.

I saw a woman crawling. Dragging herself along the floor towards me. She looked like my wife but I was still so concussed, I couldn't tell. I just knew she was hurt very badly. I wasn't in good shape either but I could still move and she needed my help. My twelve years of ER experience kicked in and I set to work immediately to save this woman's life.

Next was a man who was crying out for help. I limped my way over to him and got to work. Then there another I heard. And another. And another.

It's like I was on autopilot. I didn't even feel or notice that I, myself, was bleeding profusely from shrapnel that had ripped through my left leg. The femoral artery was spared, thankfully, but everything else was in bad shape.

I just saved as many as I could without even thinking about it.

At some point I had passed out... I dont remember when. When I came to again, I was in a hospital and for several days was praised and heralded as a hero. I had apparently saved many citizens who would have died long before they ever got to the hospital.

My wife and children were one of the ones I helped in my fugue-like state, of which only my youngest survived. My daughter, Alyx.

It was in those months of recovery that I realized something. The place where a man of medicine can truly save lives is not in an office. It's on the field. And sometimes to save lives, you have to take one."

Ideals: As fierce as Hector can be on the defense, you will rarely see him going on the offensive. He often prefers to handle things non-violently, if possible. Unnecessary cruelty is also a bitter pill for him to swallow and will often result in him becoming infuriated if he sees it happening in front of him.

Strengths: Aside from 10+ years as an ER doctor, Dr. De La Rio is a strong believer of harmony and equilibrium. In other words, to have a strong and healthy mind as well as a strong and healthy body. Prior to his military service, he would work out and train his body to keep himself in peak condition.

Post military training, Hector also quickly discovered that his surgical precision in medicine also somewhat translated to his accuracy with a firearm. The man has an incredibly steady hand and sharp eyes that let allow him to hold his own in recreational competitions with dedicated marksmen.

Weaknesses: Hector's attitude when it comes to keeping absolutely everyone alive is as much a boon as it is a curse. In his four years of service, he has saved many lives (albeit in sims) by giving his all to save them. In other words, he does not hesitate to rush into a hailstorm of bullets to pull a teammate out of the maw of hell. He was often reprimanded for putting himself in such danger.

Interests: Oddly enough. The Doc is actually something of a musician. He's no pro but during his spare time in med school, he became proficient in a small variety of instruments. On the field, he's learned that sometimes playing an appropriate song is enough to lift the spirits or morale of the team. He has somewhat mastered the art of making an impromptu beat with whatever he has available to him at the moment.

Quirks: Hector writes..... a lot. During downtime it's rare to NOT see the man documenting everything that happened since the last time he put an entry in his journal. The man has enough journals to fill a bookshelf.

Bonds: Open for now.

 

[Enmyira]

Accepted.

**wip. Code pending**

Anna Gutierrez
Homeworld: Bastion
Age: 25
Gender: female
Designation: Rifleman. Field engineer.


Heritage:
Anna comes from five generations of farmers. The past two generations having been on Bastion themselves. The woman has a fondness for plants but isn't head over heels for them, seeing as she most likely had nothing but their company during her upbringing. Her family very much disapproves of her joining the military. They would have rather her stay on the farmstead to fix their aging machines and bots whenever they broke down.

Appearance:

Spoiler: Anna

Anna is average in height at about 5' 6". She has dark tanned skin from her time under the sun. She'd be relatively lean if not for the muscle she seems to keep. No workouts or gyms needed. It came mostly from her hard work out in the fields and fixing of big heavy machinery. Her hands are quaint and soft despite a few fingers looking out of place, broken a time or two and sloppily fixed for lack of time.

Personality:
Anna is hearty and happy most of the time. She feels the need to keep some part of green in her life at all times, slightly reminiscent of her home.
Due to her family being against her joining the military, she doesn't like to talk about them much.. no matter how much she may miss them or how homesick she gets.
Although she may seem a bit lazy and easy going on the outside, she can be a psychotic bundle of nerves on the inside. She has a tendency to worry about things she can't control or fix.
She keeps a small metal box, padded with anti static material on the inside, full of random parts and tools. Whenever she can scrounge something up or save parts from something else she will. Never know when you can use em for something else. She even has a few low-juice power cells tucked inside.

Joining:
Everyone was silent. Her dad was sitting across from her on the opposite side of the kitchen table. He was a weathered gentleman with kind eyes and a soft heart. His iron will and want for adventure was passed onto all of his kids. Anna especially.
Her mother was growing a bit frail and her frame had an almost sunken look to it now. Her face was buried on her husband's shoulder, her body heaving with suppressed sobs.
Nathan.. her oh-so-cool older brother had one arm around her shoulders, one hand squeezing her arm to provide comfort.
Jean had already stormed off at the news. The younger rowdy kid angry that his sister had chosen to leave him alone with all these older people he had to call family. They were all family. But. Jean just had a different disposition than the rest.
Mrs. Gutierrez and Anna had just finished a round of "why are you leaving me!? your sick old mother to die like this!" .. "I'm not leaving you! I'm just going to be gone for a couple of years is all! I thought you wanted more for me than just this!?".... they fought and fought. Back and forth.
Mrs. Gutierrez always tried to guilt trip her only daughter. Normally it worked but this time it was too late. Anna had already signed up. Her bags were at the door. Her transport would be here any minute..
After one and half more screaming matches.. the transport arrived. Her dad hadn't said anything beside kind words to try and console his wife. Jean hadn't reappeared. Nathan had helped her with her bags and actually walked with her out to the vehicle.
She was shaking at this point. Because she was excited, afraid, or just adrenaline from the fight.. she wasn't sure. Urgh.. she felt like she was going to throw up.
"Hey kid.." he started- his voice quiet and low. He was sad.. and.. maybe disappointed? That hurt.. his voice made her want to cry. Why.. why.. why was he...d..d...disa..
Dark. Warm. Mmm... his hand had gone over her eyes. That helped her calm down. She let out a deep breath and her shoulders relaxed. He chuckled. It always worked.
"Just. Do good. Take care of yourself. Dont go meetin' any strangers and eloping. Or I'll have to try and find you and kick his ass." he joked before moving his hand.
She didn't reply. Instead, she nearly tackled him in a tight hug. They didn't say anymore after that. They just loaded her up.. and off she went. A fleeting look and wave good-bye..

Background:
She grew up helping on the family farm. She learned to pilot shuttles and other huge equipment to help around the farm. As fun as farming life was.. she didnt want to do it her whole life. Any advanced schooling was too expensive and. She didnt have many other options. So. She joined the military. She hopped it would take her to new places and could give her some new experiences.
As far as family goes, she has her parents and two brothers. Nathan was the older by 5 years, and Jean (john) younger by 3.
She has a tighter bond with her older brother but not so much with her younger. He annoys her. Very much. She liked the loudness and solitude that working on machines gave her. Her family mostly focused on tending the crops while she herself focused on the machines. No one really bothered her when she did. Probably because they were afraid of the big dirty equipment.. but not her. She felt right at home with it. Peace. Solitude. Just her and the broken things. Just her and the things that needed fixing.

Ideals:
She learned to take care of everyone else before herself. Even when she nearly lost an arm to a malfunctioning thresher bot, she made sure that eveyone else in the incident had been taken care of first. Including deactivating the bot.
She would like to believe that some technology has a life of its own. Sometimes when you need something to work one way, it just decides to work a different way. Due to that belief she can often be found muttering to anything she works on. Trying to coax it to be nice or scolding it for not work properly.

Strengths:
+good with anything electronic
+team player
+can program a little
+can pilot most common vehicles
+grease monkey
+physically strong
+resourceful

Weakness:
-hot headed
-not afraid to throw a punch
-more concerned with others than she is with herself
-doesn't like talking about her family
-hates seeing people abusing machinery

Interests:
Gravity. . The girl is absolutely fascinated with it. She doesn't quite understand it but she would love the chance to learn and explore it.

Quirks:
When Anna is feeling frustrated, stressed, incompetent, or something along those lines.. she tends to hold her face in her hands or cover her face. When she needs comfort she tends to want to rub her face against something.. usually something soft. Or. Well. When she was younger she'd just grab her big brother's hand and bury her face in his palm.

Bonds:
Unknown yet..

 

[jigglesworth]

ACCEPTED.

Name: Charles Erikson MacAvoy, "Charlie"

Designation: Rifleman

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Heritage: Charlie hails from Tienides, and is proud to be a part of that culture. His lineage descends directly from the first colonizers of the planet, as his grandparents of many greats were among them; therefor it easily seen why he's patriotic to his home. He grew up in the domed city of Ramita, which was as far from the Rift as you could get. Upon seeing the vastness and, he would say, beauty of the Rift, he was consumed with a love for his planet, despite the harshness of it. He was already planning to join the 1st Expeditionary Fleet, his ancestor's own expedition inspiring him, and the attack in Europaia did not dissuade him. The pride in his work and the confidence he places in his fellow Tienidan's work gave him the courage in IUN equipment to explore Haven, solve the mystery of that fateful day, and extend humanity's reach in the stars.

Appearance: At 6'2 inches tall, Charlie is quite lean, having built up the muscle throughout most of his life via extensive manual labor. Caucasian with tanned skin, the most interesting thing about him outwardly is his small black Mohawk that stands at about 2 inches, a buzz-cut surrounding it. His outward disposition gives off a vibe of seriousness to those who don't know him; though that's an obvious lie to those who do. With green eyes, an average nose above the stubble that encompasses his face, which is a tad less than chiseled. Though somewhat sharp at the cheekbones, the outline rounds finely, coming out to an average shape. He's happy with his appearance.

Spoiler: Charles MacAvoy

Personality: Upon first meeting him, one might think Charlie is slow to trust, but it's mainly a caution for those he doesn't know. With a little time he warms up with a friendly trust, allowing himself to relax around that person. It's not hard to gain his friendship, either. However, once he does form an opinion on someone, he tends to stick with it, the opinion usually growing in the same way. Meaning, if you make friends with him, chances are that relationship will only get better. Same goes for his negative opinions, he never did forgive-and-forget that one childhood bully. It's not just his opinions on others, too, as his opinion on himself has stayed negative for quite a while now. One thing you can count on him for, however, is his loyalty to his friends. Stick by him, and he'll go to hell and back with you. A simple man, perhaps, but a kind one, despite his penchant for sarcasm. Then again, who doesn't have one?

Background: A long time ago, people from a far away planet landed on a new planet, eventually dubbed Tienides. The descendants of two of these travelers stayed, loving this hostile and harsh planet for the yellow beauty it is. This love must have been genetic, because it flooded one Charles Erikson MacAvoy. The middle child of a five person family. Growing up in the domed city of Ramita was a simple life for the small lad and his brother and sister. Father worked at the local quarry, owned by Grafton Quarries, though parented by the Nordic Union; mother was a stay-at-home mom, and a saint-like one at that. He got an education like the other kids, though he took a bigger interest in the dirt and rock of his planet than the other kids. When he saw the Blinding Comets, he almost lost all his friends from how much he talked about them for the next week or two.

His life really started changing when he began working with his brother and father at the quarry at 17. It was his first time out of Ramita, his first time mining at the quarry. It didn't have a dome over it, so that did not made him feel better. But his brother and father guiding him personally. It all went so well, things were looking up for him and his future. For a few years. A few months after his 20th birthday, what seemed like a normal day at worked turned into a catastrophe when a premature detonation ended in a fireball burning through the mine, killing two dozen workers, including Charles' father and brother. He was in another part of the mine when it happened, so it was only after a head tally during the evacuation that he learned of their deaths. Unfortunately, it was also his duty to break it to his mother and sister.

Another year went by, he was promoted to facilities manager at Grafton, and his mother remarried to help raise her daughter, despite Charlie insisting he could do it on top of work. He never did like his stepfather, something was just wrong with him. Charles tried to spend time with his mother, but overtime distance grew between them as to do that, he'd need to spend time with the new guy. That distancing threw him for a loop, and despite his family being in Ramita, he accepted a transfer to the Gustaf Rift offered to him at work. He never said goodbye, and instead packed without a word and left without them knowing. He left to the city of New Kingsley, the closest city this side of the Rift.

Never really settling into New Kingsley, it wasn't like home, he continued his work as a contractor for the Nordic Union, being appointed facilities manager at the Rift. It was only a few weeks before he went direct, settling into his new job much better than his new city. There wasn't much manual labor involved here, but it was nice enough. Besides, in about eight months, he'd be joining the military to explore the rest of what the universe has to offer. The best part about this transfer, though, was definitely the Rift. The first time he saw it he almost had to be slapped back into reality as he smiled at it's vastness and beauty. Seeing it never got old, and it always made getting out of bed worth it.

Then he joined the military, but shock consumed the entire world as the news from Europaia reached them. His resolve hardened, and he trained harder, eventually joining the 1st Expeditionary Fleet. Now, he gets to see Haven for himself, in person. More importantly, they can solve the mystery of that massacre, which he more than intends to do here.

Joining: Two million. That's the population of Ramita, one Charles MacAvoy's home city. Today, nearly every one of them is looking into the night sky, either gathered in the park or huddled by their windows. As for the aforementioned 14-year old, he was busy laying out a picnic blanket in Bertram Square Park. It was a modest park, enough to fit the some hundred people that gathered there, more than Charlie had ever seen there at one time. It certainly wasn't as big as the main square of Ramita, Graham Center, but it's the nearest to the kid's home. That's why he sat there, sparks in his green eyes as he rushed family to get ready. Once the basket was settled down, he made haste to open it and tear open the Ziploc to his PB&J sandwich.

Taking a bite, Charlie stared into the night, the glass of the overhead dome freshly cleaned for this occasion. "Mum," he muttered through a chewing mouth, "when are the lights gonna come?"

"They said around midnight, remember? Just be patient, they'll come," that's Moira MacAvoy for you, "be patient". A lesson that took too long for Charlie to take to heart. She sat down, baby in her arms, next to Michael: her husband and Charlie's father.

Not a lot of noise among the MacAvoy's came afterwards, unless you count Charlie popping his knuckles in anticipation, that is, until they started appearing in the sky. They being, of course, the meteors. Far in the vast expanse of space, soaring in the night, were dozens of sizeable meteors. Why are they so special, one might ask? Well, these meteors just so happen to be covered in a highly reflective crystalline material, making them shine brighter than the moon when hit by the sunlight. So bright, they can be seen quite clearly through the yellow hue of Tienides' sky. It just so happens, they are far enough away so that they are. A few seconds go by and they are quite clear in the sky, and there's nary a jaw that isn't dropped in Bertram Square, the furthest down likely being Charles'.

"Do you see those, dad? Look at 'em!" Charlie nudged his father on the arm.

"Oh, I see them, they are really something," he shook his son's shoulder, in awe himself at the sight.

"Kraglite, I think they called those crystals. Odd name, if I'm honest," Roland, Charlie's brother, added, digging for his salad in the picnic basket.

Chatter filled the gathered crowds as wonder and amazement filled a young Charles. This must have been what his ancestors felt when they traveled to Tienides. He wants to feel this every day. He wants to see better stuff like this, though this is the coolest thing he's seen so far. He wants to know what those crystals are, and he wants to let others see them too. He's not had experience out of Ramita before, and rarely out of the Gaslight District, but he knows now what he'll do when he grows up. He'll get out of Ramita, leave Tienides, and join the IUN in exploring the stars. He doesn't know how, but that'll all come later. What matters now is getting there, and he'll be damned if he doesn't. Charles Erikson MacAvoy will be on the next planet out of the Pegasus Cluster, and no mysterious barrier will stop him, whatever that planet may be.

Ideals: Despite his stubbornness, he refuses to judge someone based solely on who they associate with, instead taking value in the individual. Charlie values hard work, and doesn't like the person who risks something great just to make things a bit easier. He's also one to stand up to an injustice, not tolerating those who disrespect the existence of another. A quote he takes to heart comes from an old proverb by the French novelist Marcel Proust he read during his studies as a child: "The only paradise is paradise lost." Having experience with taking things for granted, he tries to appreciate what he has before he loses it.

Strengths: Charlie is very determined, and when he sets his mind to something, he'll get it done. He's also quite strong and of high endurance, having worked up his muscles and his stamina through days at work. He's good at working under a stressful environment, and will rarely crack under pressure, as well as keeping his cool in an unfriendly situation. Also notably good at adapting to his situation, learned from the military and life in general. Loyal to his friends, he's someone valuable to keep close, as he does his best to help his friends as much as he can.

Weaknesses: Besides being quite stubborn and somewhat quick to judge character, he also has a hard time calming down when he does get angry. Being calm most of the time, when he gets pushed to far, he's prone to breaking something. He might even resort to breaking something to avoid getting that angry. Charlie also holds grudges, if someone doesn't make up for a past misdeed, he'll remember, and time won't make him forgive. If needing to make a quick decision, he'll likely go with his gut, and if presented with a situation with little to no knowledge about it, he'll also go with his gut there. This might lead to harsh consequences, but he seems to think it's a good idea.

Interests: Charlie loves geology. This love stems mainly from his home planet, more specifically the Gustaf Rift. All the valuable materials in there not before seen on the previous planets the IUN inhabited fascinate him only a tad more than the rock beneath his feet. Well, beneath the domes, but still. As a teenager, around 18, he started "borrowing" chunks of rock, crystal, and ore home from the quarries and examining them in his apartment. He only stopped when he began working at the Rift, it being a lot harder to "borrow" chunks from the Rift. Charles has examined the more common ores from Tienides, being too poor to even purchase a small amount of ore from the Rift without throwing his bank account out of whack. As such, he's very excited to see what Haven has in store for him, especially what those aliens made their ship and weapon from.

Quirks: He doesn't really know why, it's not like he ever got a professional opinion, but when his hands are aren't occupied he has a penchant of popping his knuckles. Ever since a child he's done it, and a lot of the time he doesn't even notice he's doing it. If he doesn't, his hands feel almost anxious, even though afterwards they might hurt, too. If he isn't doing that, he's fiddling with a small Kraglite crystal.

Bonds: N/A W.I.P

 

[poison goth]

Name: Katrina Dawn

Designation: Combat Medical Technician

Age: 20

Gender: Female

Heritage: Germany/African

Appearance: (Written Description) Hair is dark brown, wavy, down to mid-back. Thick hair, 5"5, 120 lbs. Eyes are a light blue, eye shape is almond. Skin tone is a dark tan.
(No picture provided)

Personality: Katrina was interested in war and medical since the age of 12. She likes figuring out how to fix things, and how they can tie into medical. She is caring but stubborn, witty, focused, determined, and clever.

Background: Katrina accelerated in school, wanting to learn more about how to heal and fix things. At the age of 6, one of her friends had been in a car crash and died, which left her introverted and for a long period of time extremely mad with constant mood swings. After she turned 12, she had gotten a book about science and history, which began her interest in war and medical. At fifteen, she learned about an ongoing war, which made her impatient to turn 18. When she was seventeen, she broke both legs in a crash, which brought many flashbacks from when she was six. After she recovered, she began training when she was eighteen, and joined the army at 19.
Joining: I had been doing my own thing, just watching cars go by while standing on a sidewalk. A scream shattered the silence, followed by more, and more. I stumbled back, seeing buildings crumble, and fire burst. My eyes burned with tears from the ashes flying into my eyes. A girl fell down, unconscious. I immediately dropped down, checking her pulse as I had been trained. Her breathing was concerning, asthma, possibly. I rummaged in my bag for the inhaler I always kept close at hand due to majority of my friends having asthma. Suddenly, the girl opened her eyes. I thrust the inhaler to her, and her eyes widened. She coughed, and took it. I looked at it, making sure the fluid was in, and stood up. I heard the sirens of an ambulance, and decided now was my decision. I was going to serve in the army.

Ideals: Katrina takes deep consideration on who and how she judges someone. She cannot stand people with terrible reasoning, and typically makes sure that she is doing the best on her job.

Strengths:
"Tech nerd"
Insane memory
Stays calm in the worst of situations
Extremely persuasive
Can calm someone easily


Weaknesses: She can get slightly frustrated when people act stupid on purpose, and has a weak spot near her neck where a scar that isn't ever fully healed is. One of her legs occasionally collapses.

Interests: Anything with medical, science, or spaces absolutely stuns her if it is new. She loves learning more, and making connections.

Quirks: She has a habit where when she is anxious she twists her fingers or pulls strands of hair away. Katrina hates the feeling of trying to be still, but cannot, whether it is breathing to wind blowing her hair.

Bonds: N/A

 

[Historical Storyteller]

WORK IN PROGRESS.
DON'T WANT THE INTERNET TO DELETE MY WORK AGAIN.

Name: Becker Tomson M. Rowe (The "M" stands for Muhlen.)

Designation:

+ Team Leaders - The brains and head of any frontline engagement, the Team Leader is the most important role in any team, sometimes even dwarfing that of the Medic themselves if skilled enough. The moral foundation of the unit, capable of leading their fellow men and women in arms when they need it most, the Team Leader is the person who represents the team's values and skill.

+ Anti-tank (Will add description later.)

+ Specialists (ask me if you want to have some form of Specialist designation) - The Specialist is where any unit recieves their ace in the hole, so to speak, with specialist designations come many seperate tasks and objectives that a soldier has to understand and accomplish in addition to their standard designation. Any soldier can have an additional specialist designation, although no unit has more specialists than any other within their greater collective. This means that no squad within the 715th has more or less specialists than any other, and most specialist roles are familiar across all units; such as Combat Psychologists and Anti-Tank specialists (OOC, this means that if you want to have a Specialist designation in addition to your standard one, then you'll have to run your idea with me and I may or may not accept it depending on how logical its existence within the unit would be).

Age: 32

Gender: Male

Heritage:

Becker hails from the Midwest city of Gainsley, the center of urban life in the last vestiges of rural America.

Back in the old days of the Third World War, it was a small and secluded munitions factory churning out thousands of bullets everyday. When the Russians and Chinese invaded and the American forces were pushed back to the interior of the country, this facility became increasingly important as more factories nationwide fell to the enemy. Improvements were made to increase production of different weapons, from bullets to rifles to artillery pieces, and they were immediately sent to the war front. Gainsley was attacked twelve times and it barely managed to survive each one. It was hit by the few bombs and missiles that managed to sneak through the local air defense network; each time everybody sucked the loss up and got the old factory working again.

When the war ended, some of the workers and soldiers decided to stay, having no home to go back to. So they built new homes here, eager to start from scratch. And as Gainsley was one of the few areas not so heavily damaged by the war, it became an ideal place to start life anew, without a care for the outside world. It went on like this for centuries, as Gainsley transformed from a small community tight-knit community to a town, a town to a center of commerce and industry in the state, and from that they became the city it is today. Gainsley is a good city known for its respect and strict adherence to the law, its industrious and resourceful populace, and for being one of the few spots on Earth still having nearby farmsteads.

Appearance: Becker stands at 5'11, having a fairly big body. Man's as pale as a ghost, it comes from the blood, the Rowes are a ghastly lot. Eyes are a dark brown, nothing uncommon. The black hair's thin and silky, nothing wrong with that either. But his eyebrows, oh the eyebrows, are permanently set to frown. Becker has a frowner face, the kind of face that makes people thinks he's angry when he's not. And his ears are long, but nobody except a nitpicker believes its worth a damn. But for those nitpickers out there, they have a name for him, "long ears". Other than that, he is physically non-descript, as he has no identifying marks on his body, having normal features all throughout.



Personality:

Becker is known to be a hard taskmaster, he is often seen inspecting his troops, barking orders, and on occasion chewing out a man that screwed up his job. As a visible sign of leadership and initiative, a large chunk of responsibility is heaped right onto his shoulders, and as he is carrying a heavy weight, he has developed a powerful hatred for idiots and sloths. It has become his life's mission to eradicate all forms of inefficiency in the army, no matter how small, and save the military precious time and effort. A man or woman that can't keep up with the pressure in an earth-shattering war as this one simply doesn't belong here, their place is in the civilian world.

In giving a soldier an order or a task, he often wants it followed to the letter, and if that isn't possible, the spirit of his order must be followed. Those who have sought to bend the rules, so to speak, have found themselves at the receiving end of Becker's booming voice. That alone should be enough for a man worthy to join the Gestinburgers. If that doesn't solve the problem, Becker usually informs his superiors of this certain soldier's disciplinary problems. And if the problem still persists, the soldier is asked to leave voluntarily or he is forced to leave. That is his usual procedure in dealing with a disobedient or inefficient subordinate. It is clear, well-defined, and it follows a strict procedure, and above all, it tolerates no fuck-ups.

Background:

As the oldest child of the Rowe family, Becker grew up with the responsibility of taking care of his younger brother and sister.

h

Life was good in Gainsley, life was kind to everyone here. It was like everybody who set foot in this city got a second chance, a chance to start things over again, a chance to set things right. And that was true for Alfred and Augusta Rowe, a couple of lovebirds, troublemakers, and partners-in-crime. She was the Bonnie, he was the Clyde. They were the kind of people that made a living feeding off of other people's hard work. The kind of people that would walk up to you and tell you kindly to give them your lunch money. The bank robber kind, not the schoolyard bully. And if you didn't take too kindly to them, hoo boy, did they have thirty nine-millimeter bullets in store for you. And they weren't alone. Behind them they had the full support of a post-war American mafia, a criminal organization that had no name to it. It was more like a coalition of the leading crime bosses in the nation and beyond.

Anyhow, this Alfred and Augusta got into a situation where they bit off more than they chew and decided to hightail it, to save their own asses and start over again. They didn't lead honest-to-goodness lives before, but hey, they figured, it wasn't too late. It wasn't like they had much choice in the matter. They needed to stay low and they knew it. And to do so they had to stop bringing all kinds of attention to themselves. They went cold turkey, they dropped their big-time attitudes big time and sucked their overblown pride. For the first few years they had trouble acting like normal, goody-two-shoed citizens and it really brought them trouble. If they wanted something, they didn't take no shortcuts anymore. There was no bribery, no corruption to exploit, no intimidation, no violence. This world was crazy for this couple. Didn't like it one bit. But they had to stay, so they made it work.

And just when things got settled, they got a child, their first child. They took it as a blessing from God, a sign of divine providence, for if He was gracious enough to give them child, maybe they were fit to lead some sort of legacy after all. It was a big thing, an earth-shattering thing, for this couple who just a few years ago led a life of crime and decadence. It was like Jesus came to visit them for Christmas, they who were murderers and thieves, they who were least expected to deserve salvation. They named this child Becker Tomson; Becker for "baker" for they wanted this child to live an ordinary life, preferably one out of danger; Tomson, for Thomas, an apostle who doubted the resurrection of Jesus, the very foundation which Christianity rests on, until he examined Christ's wounds himself. And it made sense. For decades, they lived lives of rebellion, away from Christ, doubted if He was really sticking his neck out for them. That is until they saw the





irty-two years ago, in the fiftieth of August, Becker Tomson M. Rowe was born. As the youngest of the large Rowe family, Becker was raised by four older brothers and four older sisters who tried to instill their own values on the impressionable youngster. The child was further influenced by his extended family, an army of uncles, aunts, and a great multitude of cousins.They are the type of people that are driven by a deep desire to serve the society that unites their people together, for they are businessmen, government workers and officials, lawyers, soldiers and policement. . . .

Becker was born to be a good citizen.



He came from the Rowe family, one of the old families that a family that valued discipline, hard work, and justice. It's no big surprise that they're a family of lawyers, businessmen, soldiers and policemen.

From the beginning, Papa Rowe, his father, always made glowing speeches about America, their nation of birth, and by extension the IUN, the protectors of the peace and stability that binds all mankind. They'd talk about the ancient era and the bloody war that thrust the world into a new and uncertain age,

From the beginning, Becker was taught to be committed to the defense and prosperity of America, his nation of birth, and by extension the IUN, the protectors of the peace and stability that binds all mankind. The Rowe family believed with all their might that it was their duty to protect humanity, it was this belief that made them proud and strong. And it was this pride and strength that made them fight with a ferocity few could match on the battlefield and in the court of law.

In life, Becker first tried his hand at business but found it frustrating, there was too much politics, too much contact with stupid and evil people, and too much number-crunching. When he studied law he couldn't keep up with the load of provisions and lessons he couldn't understand. When the time came to take the bar exam, he failed, and he took that failure hard. To this day, he avoids mentioning that he was a law student, and he can't bring himself to study law again. But during his short time as a policeman, he started to find satisfaction in his life. He liked to walk around and patrol the streets, he liked talking to people who cared, and he loved bringing criminals behind bars, where they belonged.

And all of a sudden, aliens from the fucking sky blasted the living hell out of a chunk of Europaia. Becker did not hesitate, he enlisted in the army immediately. He knew that aliens who kill people as a way of saying hello want to destroy all of humanity. And he, as a member of the Rowe family, saw it as his duty to stop that from happening. Becker wasn't the only one, three-fourths of the Rowe family joined the military along with Becker.


Joining:

It was happening thousands of miles away, but it was an event that would impact all of humanity.

"These fuckers aren't

Ideals: What is your character's principles? The Unit has its own, but you have yours. Go against the unit and the unit goes against you, but cross yours and you will deliver what pain you can. What is your deepest principle and axiom that has driven you so far?

Strenghts: What is that one unique thing that only you can bring to the table? What makes YOU a core aspect of one of the best, one of the most proud, and one of the most vicious of units in the IUN? What makes you deserve the badge of the 715th?

Weaknesses: Weakness is not surprise to anyone, we all have them. What matters is find a brother or sister that can keep your six. What is your weakness? That one thing you really wish the enemy didn't know about you? Maybe it's something intangible, maybe it's something more material.

Interests: What do you find fascinating? Something that keeps you going when sheer determination and willpower aren't enough to make your feet move in the harsh marching across the battlefield? If you could introduce something to someone, what would it be?

Quirks: Something that makes you a bit, well, special. We all have them, like it or not. Some people smack their lips when frustrated, some people scream uncontrollably at the slightest touch of aggression. Some people have more normal quirks than others. What is yours?

Bonds: Do you have a battlebond? On the battlefield there is no greater thing than the friendship you forge with those around you. It may take time for some, and some may forge them immediately. Do you have any battlebond? A Sibling-in-Arms? (Basically if you expect to collaborate with someone else. This will be filled in dynamically by me if you leave it open based on your character interactions).

 

[Kodi Ly Antoniusarson]

WIP

|| Name: Kristina Aalefjær
|| Other Names: Kris, Kristi, "Leap year" (the last option primarily by those incapable of pronouncing her surname correctly)
|| Age: 26
|| Gender: Female
|| Heritage: Kristina comes from a particularly proud family hailing from western Norway, although none of her kin have set foot off Tienides in nearly 150 years.

|| Branch: Interstellar Nations' Army
|| Part of: 715th Armored Recon Battalion
|| Time in Service: 5 years
|| Rank: Private
|| Designation: Designated Marksman

|| Appearance: Pail skinned with light grey eyes and bleached blond hair to match. Her hair is typically kept wrapped in a tight bun while on duty, but is otherwise allowed to fall free down to her lower neck. She sports a lean physique, with only the minimal body fat required to maintain good health. There are no piercings or tattoos adorning her body and face, and she hasn't the slightest interest in acquiring such decorations.

Spoiler

|| Personality: Kristina has an incredibly withdrawn personality, often preferring to figure out problems alone than ask for help. As a result, and despite her military training in unit cohesion, her people skills are incredibly rusty, and she typically crosses social lines without realizing that she’s done so. Despite this, she’s a generally affable person, usually wanting the best for everyone. Overall, she's a very stable, if socially apathetic, young woman. Her outlook on life is strongly based in realism, as she isn't one to curse misfortune or to praise pleasant surprises. She takes every life experience in stride, rolling with them like a fisherman sailing rough seas.

|| Background:

|| Joining: Upon catching wind of a grave new threat to her homeworld, Kristina immediately volunteered for recruitment into the armed forces. She would never be able to stomach standing idly by while others fight to protect her home.

|| Ideals: A woman familiar with sexism and bullying, Kristina carries the belief that all people are worthy of respect until they prove themselves unworthy through actions that harm others.
|| Strengths: Strong willed. High degree of patience.
|| Weaknesses: Interpersonal communication. Stunted Empathy.
|| Interests: Human language. Weaponry.
|| Quirks: Talks to herself frequently in the archaic Norwegian dialect passed down through her family.
|| Bonds: Open to any interested