The skeleton will be below the rules. Make sure to read them if you have not already!
English Translation for you uncultured folks:
1. Please respect my words and RPN's rules.
2. This roleplay is not for those faint of heart. Gore and vulgarity are permitted with restrictions (put anything more extreme in a spoiler with proper warnings, while abiding by RPN's rules.
3. This is a detailed roleplay for experienced writers. This means excellent spelling, grammar, punctuation, capitalization, etc. Posts must be at least 2 paragraphs long, and please do not exceed 10 paragraphs unless you are doing a collaborative post. I love reading and writing, but not everyone wants to read a novel at every post.
4. No god-modding or any of the other strangely named things; I want unique characters with unique capabilities, but I also want them to be realistic. No one is perfect.
5. As this is a scientific fantasy, there will be multiple alien races. You may come up with your own, even create your own planet as long as you provide sufficient lore. I will be permitting your own contributions to world-building through a template I will create. We will be utilizing this map for the roleplay to provide a basis for world-building.
6. Please keep all altercations outside of the roleplay. If you need a mediator, I am available. I will try to help work out any issues you may have with one another.
7. I understand that everyone has a life, but I also understand that if we don't post frequently the RP will die. That being said, these are the requirements: post at least once a week. I do not want two people to post back and forth and be the only ones posting, and I do not want everyone to be forced to wait for that one person to post. You have a week to post from whenever it is your turn to post, and if you do not post within that week, you will be skipped, and your character will be assumed to have committed to what they were previously doing or simply stand idle until further action.
8. If I think of anything else, I will add them here. Thank you and welcome to my roleplay!
This is the ship and layout we will be using: the Fiery Class renamed Sunspear
The available roles are as follows!: 10 total, 4 of which are officers.
1 Captain/Pilot (Officer)
1 Navigator (Officer)
1 Engineer (Officer)
1 Junior Engineer
1 Medic (Officer)
1 Gig Pilot
4 Gunners (who can also minor in the other categories as assistants when not in combat)
The skeleton for the character sheet is as follows!: Image for character here, preferably sci-fi art (not anime or real people)
GENERAL INFORMATION NAME
GENDER (if applicable)
SEXUALITY (if applicable)
APPEARANCE DETAILS HAIR STYLE (if applicable)
EYE COLOR (include pupil, iris, and sclerae, if applicable)
HEIGHT (in both feet/inches and centimeters)
WEIGHT (in both pounds and kilograms)
SCAR(S) (if applicable)
TATTOO(S)/PIERCING(S) (if applicable)
PERSONAL INFORMATION LIKES
PERSONALITY (minimum of one paragraph)
BIOGRAPHY (minimum of two paragraphs)
SKILLS/ABILITIES PROFICIENCIES (ex: weapon types, fighting styles, other skills)
ABILITIES (if applicable)
ARMOR (description and/or images)
WEAPON(S) (if applicable)
WEAKNESSES (must be same # as strengths)
This is where you can add any extra information you desire! I personally like theme songs and fun facts, like if your character has a tic or if they absolutely abhor the color orange. Have fun!
Note: If you'd like for me to code your character sheet, please send a request! I love coding and don't consider it a hassle whatsoever
GENERAL INFORMATION NAME: Lauren V. Nordgard
NICKNAME: "Laurie", "L-T", "Stargazer"
SPECIES: Human (Taramian)
AGE: 32 (apparent), 40 (actual, counting cryosleep)
HAIR STYLE: Bun or braid, depending on her mood.
HAIR COLOR: Brown/auburn.
EYE COLOR: Brown
SKIN COLOR: White/Caucasian
SCAR(S): Shrapnel wound, left thigh; Gunshot wound, upper right chest.
TATTOO(S)/PIERCING(S): Faded, possibly removed, military tattoos.
REGULAR OUTFIT: OTHER: N/A
PERSONALITY: Running in line with her former military career, Lauren's personality is distinguished by a strict and disciplined exterior and a deeper, much more sympathetic and caring, inside. At first glance she can come off as cold and scolding while in reality Lauren is simply stern towards those she views as outsiders. This behavior is but one of many parts of her personality that has been a part of her since her early years.
Once you get to know her and once Lauren trusts you she is much friendlier and open. Friends are treated as family and colleagues are given much more leeway in terms of behavior she would otherwise dislike or even condemn. In return she asks nothing but for the favor to be returned, following a sort of "golden rule" for a lack of better words. GOAL(S):
- Find and name at least five planets in her lifetime.
- See as much of the galaxy (or universe) as possible.
- Keep her Junker-Family safe.
- Dying on some uncharted world at the edge of the known universe
- Her past
Lieutenant Commander Lauren V. Nordgard was once a career soldier serving with the Taramian Confederate Navy, a now-defunct military force serving the equally defunct Taramian Confederacy, aboard the destroyer TNV Relentless. Much like her homeworld, Lauren's system of origin was a former Human colony that had since evolved into something of its own. On the outside the Taramians looked visually indifferent from their ancestors though tough gravity had made their bones sturdier while a unrelenting political landscape meant a much more militaristic and spartan society dominated by strength and initiative rather than wealth and fine words.
At its peak Taramia was a key supplier of rare-earth metals before a large inter-system conflict plunged the military state into conflict. Lauren, a trusted navigator at the time, saw her people fight one another on behalf of greedy outsiders that used them as proxies. When the Taramian people realized that they had been played as pawns the damage had already been dealt and the system was absorbed as a vassal, playing a small role in a much grander political game far above their level of understanding.
Lauren left her system. There was nothing left but poverty and ruin, not to mention that the navy she had once served so dutifully no longer existed because of her people's own incompetence. This would mark the beginning of Lauren's career as a freelance navigator. Odd jobs, cargo hauls and explorations were but few of the tasks she undertook aboard several vessels before finally settling down onboard the Sunspear.
At first Lauren was reluctant to accept her role as Junker. In her eyes scavengers were nothing more but carrion-birds. Over time however the work and her role aboard the ship grew on her to the point where she accepted it. Now, Lauren remains as steadfast as ever with a regained motivation for carrying out her charge flawlessly and as excellent as she can manage.
- Small-arms weapons
- Navigational systems
NAME Click click NICKNAME(S) Clicky SPECIES Uk'a nn't'alo / Barovians AGE 16 (their species grows to adulthood quickly but lives for an incredibly long time) GENDER Non applicable SEXUALITY Pansexual POSITION Engineer
HAIR STYLE Non applicable HAIR COLOR Non applicable EYE COLOR Black SKIN COLOR Pallid white chitin, splotched with charred grey HEIGHT 8 feet 9 inches/2.667 meters WEIGHT 516 lbs/234 kgs SCAR(S) There are many burn marks on his chitinous back and shoulders, along with differently coloured marks in the shape of fractoid, long healed fractures in the chitin. They would have four arms, but their second left arm has been cut or torn off, leaving them with three. TATTOO(S)/PIERCING(S) One of their vestigial horns are adorned and pierced with many multicoloured gems and jewels. REGULAR OUTFIT None, they dont wear clothes
-Being among people
-Stuck up people
They love all things beautiful unlike the rest of their race which is focused on practicality. They are naive and kind, always viewing the world with childlike wonder, always quietly excited to see new things. They are soft spoken and insightful, giving advice as best they can whenever they can. They are trusting to whomever they meet, unless one of their friends is distrustful as they trust their friends more than others. They absolutely love interacting with others, and the loud sounds of civilisation and people, but get tired quickly when apart of it, their brain not properly wired to deal with it, so they take frequent breaks alone in the engine room, making sure to keep the reactors purring.
-Find the most beautiful place in the universe
-Build something incredible
-Being found and brought back into the fold of their old race.
-Dying before finding beauty
Click click was once a mere neonate, born into the intellectual sect of the uk'a nn't'alo (henceforth referred to as barovians for simplicity), in the spawning pits, they climbed out first of their clutch, before their body was ready, before their mind had entirely been adopted to their future profession. This had become all too common among the newer generations, and the queen and her court decided it would be a waste of valuable brood to toss them out, it was easier to send them into the fold, to work without truly fitting in. having been given no identity besides the sect they were born into, Click click was lost among the millions of workers within their city-nest. tasked with scientific advancements, and bio-engineering, Click click much preferred to sit on one of the support superstructures and watch the shipyards as they constructed their oddly shaped sky-vessels. fascinated, they would watch for hours on end, neglecting their work to absorb as much information about the construction as possible. After months of them neglecting their work, they were found out by the enforcer class, and their pheremone sensers were forcefully removed, destroying their connection to the nest once and for all.
They were forced to leave the nest, their home, and venture out onto the surface, where only the constructor and beast sects went. their chitin not built for the sunlight, they suffered burns all over their body as they wandered, called deformed and deserted by all whom they passed. leaving the great forest where their nest lay, that blocked out the sky with its mile tall trees, was even worse. their chitin was charred black in some places by the light of the unfiltered sun. But they saw the skyport, towering above all else, a huge tower, constructed in an incredibly different style to the barovians fluid and organic architecture. Fascinated by this, Click click found themselves enraptured by it, If they could learn how to build something that beautiful, their life would be complete.
After making it, they took a job as an unskilled construction worker, not understanding the concept of money they were easy pickings for scammers and unscrupulous individuals. From what they could decipher of the foreign languages, the place was a skyport, a hub for offworld activity. Having been sheltered in the nest, they hadnt know there were other people, let alone other species, on their planet. They spent years there, being paid for their work into a credit account, but not knowing what to do with it, they spent their time on the street. not needing to sleep, they would scavenge trash for food and spend their time learning the languages of the people around them. Eventually they were picked up by an immigration ship, being told that they could travel to any other planet, and once their work off the debt they would owe for the transport. Excited at the prospect of seeing other places, and naive to the concept of untruths, they agreed to the deal.
As a reward for their trust, they were left on a ruined planet, in a junkyard that noone but slavers and junkers frequented, and were left to die. Their credit account drained and second left arm cut off, life seemed almost out of reach, but they were picked up by a compassionate crew of misfits aboard the sunspear, and in return became their engineer, paid properly for their efforts and taught about the ways of the world, they found their place.
-All tools one would use for ship construction or repairs
-Using their fists and claws in combat
-Shipbuilding and repairs
-Due to their unique biology they are able to Hold their breath in the vacuum of space for up to 5 minutes, And their body can function normally in vacuum.
-Their chitin, nearly unbreakable by kinetic energy, but extremely weak against strong heat and light.
-Their balance is off due to having two arms on one side and only one on the other.
They love fluffy animals
They dont refer to themself as I, they refer to themselves by name.
They will eat anything
Previously nameless, they were given a name by their first boss at the skyport
APPEARANCE DETAILS TENTACLE STYLE
Normally down. Occasionally pulled back with a thick band.
They start dark blue and change to purple near the tips.
Pupils and sclerae are black, irises are bright yellow.
A mixture of blue and purple with dark indigo spots on her face, forehead, and along other parts of her body.
5 feet 6 inches / 168 centimeters
142 pounds / 64 kilograms
Several rings don her tentacles (they're slid on), her pointed ears are pierced at the tips and her lobes, and her tattoos are TBR.
When lounging around on board, she is most often seen in a pair of loose cargo jeans, a cropped tank more akin to a sports bra than anything, and a utility belt around her waist filled with random tools and supplies. She tends to wear gloves due to her sensitive palms but is most often barefoot when wandering the ship. The outfit is similar to this
She speaks with an accent similar to that of the British.
PERSONAL INFORMATION LIKES
Reading Books (preferably in a quiet place alone or with someone equally quiet)
Strength of Empathy
Akra is an upbeat and cheerful female a majority of the time, either found singing, reading a book, or exploring the ship and making notes of areas in need of repair. She has always tried to be optimistic, though she is plenty aware of the cruelties of the many worlds outside of the ship. When she does fall into a depressive slump, she secretes a liquid that coats her skin and makes her slimy to the touch. Her colors darken and she expresses a severe lack of interest in things, but this does not occur often, especially among her new allies. She is loyal and protective and will do what she can to keep her people safe, though she tends to need some time to herself to refresh her mind, in a sense.
Be a successful Junker!
Rifles (preferably with scopes)
Leadership (knows ship and crew well)
Attention to Detail (knows if parts are good or sell well, notices the little things)
Through the touch of her palms to the flesh/skin of another being, Akra can sense their emotions and feel them as strongly as the original person does.
Akra can breathe underwater or in water-like liquids that are safe to peruse (no acid or overly salty solutions).
AGE: A little more than a young adult in his species lifespan, Myr is roughly around 800 years old.
GENDER: (if applicable) Although it is impossible to be certain due to their armor Myrian strictly identifies as a male. This could be taken as either as a fib or truth, as with their armor on it makes it nigh impossible to work out if it is true or not. To further complicate the matter is that the only pictures showing Erians is over a millennia old, and shows both genders appearing almost identical in both build and facial structure.
SEXUALITY: (if applicable) Myrian has never shown a hint of interest in either males, females, or anything else for that matter.
POSITION: He is the ships medic.
HAIR STYLE: Myr's hair, if ever unfortunate to see it, is a mass of unkempt fluff resulting from it being in a helm for far too long.
HAIR COLOR: The vast majority of his hair is ashen brown, with small patches on the underside being a light red in pigmentation.
EYE COLOR: A fine mix of green and blue cascade fluidly around his narrow pupils.
SKIN COLOR(S): His skin is a corpse grey, and is one of countless reasons he leaves his armor on around the clock.
HEIGHT (in both feet/inches and centimeters) 198cm/6'5ft tall. What, were you expecting an angel to be taller?
WEIGHT (in both pounds and kilograms) Roughly 91kg/200Ibs, which is actually considered rather hefty for his species.
SCARS: As a result of him losing access to his gate, Myrian possess' two mangled scars that seemingly engulf the entirety of his back.
REGULAR OUTFIT: His regular outfit consists of armor he was gifted when he first gained access to his gate. The armors exoskeleton consists of a ore found only on Eros, and is styled similarly to the armored knights that roamed Earth long ago. To make it distinctive from the armor of the past however, is that the armor is imbued with some of the greatest technology that the Erians had made to date.
OTHER: As Myr speaks, he rather likes to use his hands to convey his thoughts. The more intense the speech is to him; the more he waves his limbs in return. This is much to the crews amusement.
-His armor, as it was gift and he treasures it immensely.
-Animals of all types.
-Praising the gates, which are his gods.
-His crew members, however bizarre they may be.
-Savory foods. DISLIKES
-Sweets. Growing up, everything on Eros exhibited some sort of sweetness to it.
-Spiders. Like what even spawned these hellish things?
-Cats. Every cat he has met has ended in a mauling.
PERSONALITY: Myrian is a person whose personality is like a layered dip. When you first glance at it, he seems like a rather plain person, with him seeming to be the epitome of normality itself. However, as you dive deeper in you will find a man full of dry humor, and a more flavorful, even charismatic personality. He is at his core a jokester who likes to make the people around him swell up with a positive air of influence, and due to his charisma, this is often the case. To most people who meet them, they will either see the top layer or the middle layer of his personality depending on the varying degree he cares for the person in question. The part very few see despite their relation to him, is the part he keeps hidden within him.
At the inner-most portion of his soul, is a man who is still mourning the loss of everyone he used to love. As his home world came crashing down, and as countless loved ones close to him met their early demise, many of the emotions he used to put on display openly in the past did as well. With this said, nobody has ever seen him lay a tear, or express any emotions despite happiness or nothing at all. To him the walls he erected keep him safe, despite them being far more similar to a prison than he lets on. Perhaps one day he will tear down the walls that he built, however, as of now, that is not the case.
GOAL(S): His goal in life is to fix the state of his planet, and the gates that adorn its surface. Also, to find his son.
FEAR(S): Myrian is a man riddled by countless fears due to his shattered past. To say he has a fear alone could not be further from the truth, however the ones that keep him awake days on end are his most feared. The fear of dying itself worries Myrian tremendously, as every case of death that unfolded in front of him took away those he loved the most in the most terrible of ways. The second in line is to die without a purpose, and to have lived a mediocre life. These fears, albeit trivial to many, are crippling to him.
The past should do exactly what it says it should, stay in the past. To Myr, that's the way he views everything that led up to now, and with good reason too.
Myr was born on the forgotten planet of Eros, which was located hundreds of thousands of light-years north of the Vorshimilayar System. He was born into a family that was deemed of royal blood in their society due to them being the maintainers of the gates. In the term of other species, and their rules this would have made his family essentially the pope and his disciples in human society. With such an upbringing he was schooled in the craft of medicine, acts of nobility, and other such works that involved siphoning power from the planets gates to prepare for the leadership of an entire planet.
To many, he was a prodigy at the tasks that were handed to him, as he quickly became one of the most adept at using the power of the planet to fuel him in healing. He even managed to grasp the power of the planet even when not on the world, however at a cost to his body. This was unheard of, only spoken in fables of the few who visited Earth in the past. As such, Myrian was soon handed the armor of the gates, and inherited the title of the Gatekeeper, being the youngest in known history to do so.
As his 50th decade came to be, after 250 years of rule, war erupted around Eros. The war was started by people who found the control of the gates was wounding the planet's core, as evidenced by increasingly violent scorching events and tremors. Desperate to save the world, this resistance began to seize and destroy the gates that littered their planet's major hubs to stop their abuse. As the years passed by, and the death toll continued to climb, the Gatekeepers finally won, however at the cost of all but one gate left and billions dead. The planet that was once filled with life and lush forestry was now only a barren wasteland, scarred by decades of war.
For a while after, the planet began to heal, and lives once more began to populate the planet. Myrian, now in his 60th decade, finally thought that all was as it should be. He, a young adult, even had a child of his own to bare witness to the healing of the planet. The future looked brighter than a thousand suns in Myrian's eyes. As with all things in his life however, nothing good ever follows him. After things went back to relative normality, they were disrupted by increased troubles with the planet itself, in place of the people. The broken gates leaked plasma from the core onto the planets surface, burning holes down to the mantle, and scorching hot bursts hotter than the sun left cities in ciders and piles of molten metal.
Instead of evacuating the planet, Myrian fought to save it. Whatever resources he had left at his disposal he used to try to stabilize the planet, and with their city gate holding out, he had ample time to do so. However, each effort left only more damage to the planet, and to his cities gate. Finally, after years of holding onto the dream of saving Eros, the final evacuation took place. With only single capsule escape pods available, he strapped his son in and launched him out of the dying planets grasp. With him being the sole soul left, he took hold of his own pod as well and followed suit after his last kin just as his gate collapsed and a burst decimated the city.
Still being in the atmosphere as it occurred, the scorching heat caused the pods tracking to scramble, resulting in the loss of his son's position. As such, to this very day, he knows not if his child is alive or dead, drifting throughout the stars.
OTHER: He abhors the color orange.
-Highly skilled with plasma based weaponry due to it being the main form of weaponry on his planet.
-He is charismatic to the very core resulting from years as a doctor.
-Is bilingual in many tongues due to operating on countless species.
[Adept Healing] Myrian is from a species once celebrated for their healing ability. In the past, this power was known to cure blindness and heal virtually any injury to such a degree that it was as if it never happened. Nevertheless, as the power was sourced from their planets plasma infused center, it is now severely hampered by the volatile flow of energy the planet now emits. The ability as of now can still perform healing above most medical technology to date, however not as well as before the planet's downfall. It also creates burns on the insides of the users body, causing the one to weld it intense pain and skin bleaching.
As his species is from a rather hot planet, his body is able to withstand heat that would make the average person quite dead. This has its advantages and disadvantages however. On one hand being able to walk on a planet hot as a sauna without discomfort is rather nice, but on the other it makes being cold a rather dreadful occasion.
ARMOR (description and/or images): Please see the side image.
WEAPON(S) (if applicable):
Daito[TM] Plasma Rifle
-Highly Intelligent, like most of his kind.
-Doesn't (usually) crack under pressure.
-Great shot if the need arises.
WEAKNESSES (must be same # as strengths)
-Intelligent to a fault. He often is stressed out due to it.
-Has a weakened body due to the injuries in/on it.
-Is a tad insane, and if faced with a overbearing conundrum for too long may freak out and/or become violent.
Age: 679 (606 years spent unsentient, actual age 73)
Gender: N/A, Feminine (She/Her)
Hairstyle: Komra's hair is long and slightly etherial, reaching down to about mid-thigh. When left naturally it runs down their back, though she generally wears it in a long braid, or ties it back. Occasionally it will also be tied over one shoulder, too. The thought of approaching it with scissors is one that she tries to avoid.
HairColour: A light green-white usually, dappled with light blues and a few long strands of crimson. Occasionally individual strands will darken during high-stress situations.
Eye Colour: Black Sclera | White Iris | Black Pupil
Skin Colour: A pale white, not unlike the birch trees of earth.
Height: 230 Centimeters | 7"5
Weight: 32kg | 71lb
Scars: A long, tapering scar runs across most of Komra's torso, as well as a number of smaller, near-undetectable scars around her shoulders and arms. There is a large amount of scarred skin where her prosthetic arm meets her natural one.
Visible Augments: Komra's fingers are double-jointed metal ones, almost talons or claws. One of her arms from just above the elbow is a prosthetic, highly-advanced (And likely stolen). It matches her skintone and is not obvious.
Regular Outfit: Long, flowing silks, that, upon closer inspection, are formed of countless green- and pearl-white leaves stitched together in long cloth-like bolts of near-fabric. Specifically, the resulting outfit is something between a himation, robe, and normal shirt - clothing that swoops from one shoulder down, leaving the other shoulder free to the air, along with a pair of "trousers". Komra primarily wears these for the comfort of those around her rather than any vanity issues.
Komra is, as her appearance suggests, slightly... aetherial in nature. She moves with a sense of ghostliness - not like she's delicate, but rather as though she doesn't exist, Indeed, she practically glides over the ground as she walks, despite her feet being planted firmly upon it, and this follows through into her personality, at least a little. She comes across as odd, wispy, easily distracted and bouncing from train of thought to train of thought faster than passengers in a city's central metro. Generally, she speaks with a certain matter-of-fact lilt to her voice, and has trouble with tenses - something that don't exist in the culture she's from.
Nevertheless, she is more than capable of being down-to-earth, if not quite ever reaching the point of being blunt - able to communicate and listen effectively, as well as work in a team. In fact, Komra rather enjoys it - other people's perspectives and traits aree a constant, and endless source of fascination for her. Because of this, she forms attachments quickly and easily - though this trait does extend to inanimate objects too. Negotiator or ambassador was a potential career path - but to do so would be utterly uninteresting to the Naidja, and so, instead, piloting is her joy - expert manipulation of something exponentially bigger than she is, an outlet of creativity in a way that helps people more than mere artistry would with the added potential for discovery, and the challenge that keeps life a thrill.
Discover and form connections with new things and people.
-Destruction of self (Not death, as that in itself is a form of rebirth, but rather being destroyed with nothing left)
-Under deep waters
BIOGRAPHY (minimum of two paragraphs)
Komra grew up relatively traditionally with other Naidja - which is to say, unsentiently born from the First Seeds - a number of gargantuan, sentient trees that dot the planet's surface. Her upbringing was uninteresting - in schools, classes teaching the fundamentals of life upon Sertinus, the Naidja's world. She explored her abilities early-on, and began studying to become an Ambassador - anything to bring her closer to the stars above, where her gaze was pinned while the other Naidja watched the ground.
She wasn't irreverent - the First Seeds were her culture, and she respected - even loved - it. But there had to be more to the world than life, death, and rebirth, with only a brief, uninteresting flash inbetween. So, finally, years after her birth, Komra left her home planet on a ship - as part of a training journey to witness another culture's diplomatic tactics. Curious, and bored upon the passenger ship they were taking, she got to talking with the pilot - and thus, a new interest was sparked within her. As soon as the ship landed, she switched profession. She was far from home, but that didn't matter - Sertinus had never held much more than a cultural or religious significance for her, and Komra wasn't bothered about leaving it behind.
It took years, endless practice, and more than a few crashes before Komra learned to fly a ship properly - uncontent with merely a passing grade, she took the course again, and again, and again until she excelled - shuttle, freighter, even gunship - she could fly them all. In her spare time she learned to race, hover-vehicles, even automobiles that still relied on wheels. She took on a nomadic lifestyle, too - working freelance on ships that needed pilots, copilots. Something was still missing though - freight runs were fundamentally uninteresting, and to become a warship pilot meant only seeing the parts of the galaxy that were near or in strife. So it was that the Naidja turned her attention to the junkers. Finally, true creativity. There were still rules - but there was also exploration, discovery - everything she'd been looking for.
-Piloting (Extensive training, practice, and crashing has left Komra with a very good instinct for piloting spacecraft and vehicles, large and small.)
-Mediation (Naidja, as a culture, tend towards pacifism, and this has left Komra with a talent towards mediation and calm leadership. She has also trained in diplomacy.)
-Navigational Skills (From her time working as a copilot, Komra has had practice acting as a de facto navigator for missions if need be.)
-Komra's hair is a part of her, and, through effort on her part, can move without her interference. It can change shape, too, to a very limited extent - the edges sharpening slightly like razor-sharp blades of grass, though this kills every cell in the "sharpened" strand of hair, causing it to fall out. In an emergency, it can also surround her in a cocoon and harden enough to repel blades. This only lasts for five minutes at most, though, and will damage her hair to the extent that this ability cannot be used for a number of days.
-Komra is arboripathic - she has a low-level, innate ability to "see" through plants. While she cannot literally see through them, she has a very low level of manipulation of natural growths within 10m, and she can "feel" through them - movement nearby, light and temperature changes, etc. This ability takes effort to use.
-Usually, Komra doesn't wear armour - however, should the situation call for it, she will don a light bodysuit that doesn't restrict movement, weaved through with the standard armour fibers. It isn't anything special - the sort of thing afforded to combat pilots the universe-over. It will, perhaps, turn away one or two plasma blasts, but most physical projectiles will punch through it. It will offer slightly above-standard resistance to blades, too, but is really designed to provide protection in case of a crash.
-Komra carries with her a small pistol, in case of emergency. It has two firing modes - one where it fires energy in the form of plasma, the other where it fires medium-density flechettes (7 held at a time). The second must be reloaded, the first recharged. The energy capacitor can fire seventy shots before it needs recharged.
-Komra also carries a long knife at all times, engraved carefully and delicately balanced. Clearly, it is more for sentimental value, but is also capable of being used for self-defence.
NAME: MyerrenNyarltchakrivok Nien-Kultherakyen-TaKyrnuul Sol-Eterniad
AGE: Three, Seven, 23, 33, 41, 42, 142. She always answers with the same numbers, but has never explained exactly what they mean.
GENDER: Tiern-Krassiath. Human/common best translation is Female, but the translation is imperfect.
SEXUALITY: The Nierak-Ti only partially conceive of physical attraction, and even then it is much less in ideals of perfect beauty, and much more based in what an individuals appearance tells of their story. An unmarked body is not considered ugly, but scars, tattoos, or other such markings tend to draw more interest. The by far larger portion of how the Nierak-Ti chose mates, both on longer terms and brief moments, involves the way that they can partially read people by reading their energy, and what that says. They can decipher reproductive compatibility with this, which goes well beyond their own race, but that is at most secondary, generally considered a fun extra rather than a true mark in favor or against. The true key is the sense of the person they can get from this, combined with what they can learn through more mundane means. Often to an outsider, interest from a Nierak-Ti can read as almost clinical inquisitiveness, wanting to learn the shape of what makes a person who they are. A key marker that very few outside of the Nierak-Ti themselves know is reciprocation. If a Nierak-Ti simply expresses interest and fascination, that is more or less analogous to simple attraction. If they also offer of themselves, that is usually at least flirtation, and often a mark of much more serious interest.
POSITION: Gunner, Emergency Pilot(She is a quite capable pilot, but is uncomfortable piloting the ships of other species.
HAIR STYLE: Nierak-Ti hair is the most human part of their body, looking almost entirely like human hair, down to size and shape, but rather than thin hairs grown from their body, their hair is thin crystal filaments. Flexible and soft, but nigh-unbreakable. It also tends to float and shift even in a vacuum, and Nierak-Ti use their hair to gesticulate quite frequently, the movements often reflecting their temperament. Her hair is long, fast and energetic. It is particularly worth noting that Nierak-Ti hair is solely seated at the top of their heads, although it can fall over the rest. It can also taste and identify particulates in the air, which is how they “smell”
HAIR COLOR: Nierak-Ti hair usually has some throughpoint, but often shifts colors completely free from their control, reflecting their emotions.
EYE COLOR: Nierak-Ti eyes, like the rest of their faces, are somewhat unsettling. Due to their energy based nature they have no traditional mouths, and their senses of smell and hearing are only partially based on their head. Their “eyes” are technically a band around their head. They can raise their hair and fully open their eye ring, but that makes it hard to focus and is uncomfortable. When their eyes are open normally they open two focus points that resemble eyes except for being around two inches in diameter, and that they can move around their head completely independently of each other. These eyes generally match color to the Nierak-Ti’s own individual energy. Mya’s energy, and eyes are a deep, impossible purple.
SKIN COLOR(S): An iridescent purple-black.
WEIGHT: She naturally floats and has very little actual mass, but weighs approximately sixty pounds or twenty-seven kilograms.
REGULAR OUTFIT: Doesn’t really wear clothes.
OTHER: From head down, her hair and most of her face has already been covered. Her head is a semi-spherical prism that narrows down into a sort of neck, meeting her shoulders. There are other sound and scent receptors on her body, but on her face there are two very short patches of dark gray pseudo-hairs that take in soundwaves. Her hair is how she scents, but she does actually also have tongue of sorts, along with a sense of taste, but it is, odd, to say the least. More akin to an extra limb, seated behind a narrow line on her face similar to how her closed eyes appear. It is hyper-flexible, and can split into two or three points. The Nierak-Ti sense of taste is developed very differently to humans, as they have no need of it to eat. Instead it allows them to very accurately identify what it tastes, down to a molecular level. Nierak-Ti tongues are generally iridescent rainbows composed of many miniscule scales, and feel similar to a snake’s scales, but much more fine and smooth. Nierak-Ti arms don’t really have joints, instead being made of an odd flexible crystal. The number and type of limbs vary between individuals. Mya has four arms. One pair is smaller and seated a little lower and more centrally on her torso. They are flexible, but have a shorter range and precise, many-fingered hands. Her other pair are seated more where a human’s shoulders would be. They are much longer, shifting between around 2f/61cm or 5f/152cm, and less precise, but far more dangerous. Strong and fast, they can shift somewhat in size and shape. Fully retracted they tuck neatly against her back, but when they extent they can become thick and long, or grow thin enough to be a blade. To a limited extent she can also split these, allowing her to grip things, but she can’t form true hands, instead something more along the lines of an optionally blunt clawed grip. Down from her arms, her torso kinda just, continues down. There are grooves here and there, the largest being the ones that her larger arms sit in when retracted, but with smaller more mysterious ones scattered here and there. Besides those shallow grooves her skin is entirely smooth until it reaches her lower body proper. There it shifts into overlapping scales. Her normal body is highly durable, but the scales on her tail are extremely durable, spreading out and minimizing impacts across very hard scales. If you are curious, her tail does shed, but only when healing significant damage and it takes a great deal of time and energy. There are long markings down the side of her tail, that very few people have ever seen the reasons for. These are very thin, well protected flaps that protect her fins, which serve two purposes. They allow her to much more directly absorb energy from her environment, and also allow her to propel herself much more freely and much faster, with no need for an atmosphere. However they are also fairly vulnerable and any damage to them is incomprehensibly agonizing along with being very slow to heal. They are brightly glowing, thin crystalline arrays, that are lit in the color of her energy. Her tail has a longer and a shorter form. When slithering her longer tail is more useful and easier to move on, along with being more useful in a fight, while her shorter tail is mostly for relaxation. When rarely flying her shorter tail is much more agile, but her longer tail is much, much faster.
All the different flavors of sunlight
Music, especially Nierak-Ti music or other forms of music that include the more exotic hearing ranges.
Positive emotional energy around her or directed towards her
Tasting very complicated chemicals
“Dead” zones(places with low ambient energy)
PERSONALITY: Mya is genuinely kind and curious, a relentless optimist. She isn’t quite as naive as she used to be, but she has still only been in open space for a few years. She is endlessly interested in finding everything out about anywhere she goes, and joined up with the Junkers for absurdly idealistic reasons, just wanting to see the outer reaches of space. She is friendly with anyone who wants to speak with her, and will often seek out others with questions. She can navigate politics, but usually prefers to pretend obliviousness to them.
GOAL(S): She isn’t really sure what she wants now that she’s on her own, besides maybe a family.
FEAR(S): Containment, Capture, Confinement
BIOGRAPHY: Mya is one of very few Nierak-Ti to have ever completely left their homeworld. She left at a very lucky time, although not exactly for her, rather for the Junker crew she ran into shortly after leaving. They were salvaging from the ship graveyard near the Shard world when they got hit by a stray eddy of the LyrShuul. Nobody died, but their engine was knocked out, and they were on track to drift into the depths. They set their emergency beacon off but there was little hope of survival.
They would have died but for Mya happening to be leaving at just the right time. She was headed out to the ship graveyard just to see if she could scavenge something enough to make it to a different part of space when she came across them. She managed to jumpstart their engines, and they repaid the favor by bringing her aboard and giving her access to enough energy to recover from doing something on that scale. They got out of there while she was recovering, spooked by how close they had come to death.
They were worried she would need to go back when she came around, but instead she asked to be taken along wherever they were going. Seeing as how she just saved their lives they saw no real reason to argue. Initially she wanted to be dropped off somewhere interesting, but as they traveled she fell in with the life and found a place in the crew. She found the stories the Junkers told and the places they had seen fascinating, and found a new goal to move towards in seeing the wider universe. It helped that she had a talent for the eguns, both maintaining and using them. Her ability to transfer energy allowed her to compensate for any over or underloads, which can be very useful on Junker ships. She was sent out on the mission because she was well suited, and is always up for a mission to the outer reaches of space.
PROFICIENCIES: As weapons go, her body works pretty well, but she can also use more proper weapons with a certain skill. It is particularly helpful that she can charge her own energy weapons, along with draining any overload. This also helps with maintaining and using the ship’s weapons.
ABILITIES: As a Nierak-Ti she is a low level empath, able to read emotional energy around her, and with a tendency to leak her own emotions at a very low level. More crucially she can absorb and channel energy. It is worth noting she can’t really use this offensively, but she does work pretty effectively as a universal converter, able to match her energy draw or energy push to whatever she is pulling energy from or pushing energy into. She does also need energy for herself and her own function, as she is fundamentally energy based. She can also fly, although she has to extend the fins in her tail to do so.
Her shape shifting is fairly limited, only moving between a couple forms with one exception. From top to bottom we have to start with her tongue, which can shift in size, and split towards the end. Next are her upper arms, which are the only exception. At baseline when tucked away they are fairly short and unobtrusive, but they can extend all the way out to 7f/213.36cm. They can also split, but more crucially they can become razor-sharp blades. Her tail goes back to just having two forms, one relatively short and reminiscent of a usually finless mermaid, and the other much longer and more akin to a serpent’s.
ARMOR: She has no armor, or clothes for that matter. The scales on her tail are fairly solid armoring, and her body is baseline very durable, but it’s odd construction and particular needs make actual armor difficult.
WEAPON(S): Her upper arms definitely count, but she also has a few weapons _______(pending probably adaption based on character relationships)
Almost completely immune to energy projectiles
Can survive completely fine in open space
Doesn’t need food, water, or air
Very, Very vulnerable when flying,
Somewhat unwieldy when slithering,
Very vulnerable to high powered physical projectiles to her torso,
Leaks energy when injured,
That energy is very radioactive, which can be useful, but is also a hindrance,
Takes time and concentration to heal,
“Bleeding” is extremely dangerous to both her and her surroundings
Doesn’t really like to hurt people unless extremely pissed off
Often holds back
Prolonged interstellar radiation exposure does weird things to her brain
Needs to intake a lot of energy, especially when using a lot of it
This is where you can add any extra information you desire! I personally like theme songs and fun facts, like if your character has a tic or if they absolutely abhor the color orange. Have fun!
Note: If you'd like for me to code your character sheet, please send a request! I love coding and don't consider it a hassle whatsoever
The Emperor of the galaxy, most glorious of all janitors and ruler of the space-time continuum: Crazy Space-Janitor Dave!
Dave, Crazy Dave
Older than 30...probably
Honestly? No one knows, not even Dave himself
Messy long hair
White, but gets a bit more grey near the tips
200 cm or 6'7
WEIGHT (in both pounds and kilograms):
111 kg or 245 pounds
His entire body seems to be littered with scars and burns, most of it covered up by his cybernetics
An old admirals uniform in pristine condition, including the cap. He usually wears his janitorial apron on top of it
Cute things (His definition of cute can be a bit skewed, sometimes believing that even the most dangerous beasts "just want to play")
Freedom Annoying people Telling everyone how great Emperor Dave is!
People who are too serious
Comments about his hair
Crazy Dave is always happy, no matter the circumstance. He has an obsession with cleaning things and telling everyone just how great he is. With this combination of things he can come off as a bit pushy or aggressive, but in reality, he is just completely insane. This insanity leads him to behave in all sorts of unpredictable manners, from talking to himself to randomly going for a "spacewalk". He is mostly harmless if not threatened or made fun of; the easiest way to make him angry is to insult his hair, which he is very sensitive about. Other than that, he is mostly just annoying everyone, regardless if he has something to do or not
To rule and clean the universe!
Being alone and having nothing to do
From what the crew can piece together, Dave was probably a Nulhallan soldier who got seriously injured in some kind of conflict. After excessive cybernetic augmentation to save his life, Dave survived. He was stronger and faster than before and even looked a bit younger, but the only thing they did not manage to fix was his extensive brain damage. After going mad and believing himself to be some kind of powerful leader, he either left the system voluntarily or got exiled in some way. He then went on to hitchhiking trips across the systems until he "invited" himself into the junker community.
If you ask Dave about his origin, he'll probably tell you he was birthed in a neutron star and "destined for greatness". As for how he ended up on the Sunspear? Well, after annoying and getting kicked out of all the other junker groups, he finally ended up here. And with "ended up" I mean they discovered him someday in their now remarkably sorted and clean cargo bay and couldn't really kick him out. He was a junker after all and a good gig pilot, so he was allowed to stay. For now at least...
PROFICIENCIES (ex: weapon types, fighting styles, other skills):
Basic handgun proficiency
Basic hand-to-hand combat skill
Cleans faster than you can blink
Master pilot for all types of small flightcraft, in space and in atmosphere
Capable of performing basic repairs on a wide array of machinery, including engines and cybernetics
Stun immune. If that is because of his cybernetics or if he built-up a resistance due to getting shocked too many times, nobody knows
Full body cybernetic enhancements. Making him stronger, faster, more durable and letting him have insane stamina
Nulhallans can hear better than other races. They also have a higher heat resistance but are more vulnerable to cold temperatures
His cybernetics make him more durable
A perfectly normal stun gun which totally doesn't have a lethal setting
Excellent cook (excellent as in excellent in burning down your kitchen)
Staying focused on "boring stuff"
Not good at staying out of restricted areas or "pressing the big red button to see what would happen"
Dave likes to call the gig "Gary" and talks to it like a person
He may have had a dog at some point
HAIR STYLE (if applicable) Small tuft of hair atop his head that matches his base coat (light grey) small beard that matches his undercoat (white)
HAIR COLOR Fur is a light grey with white secondary color around his neck and hands. Has dark grey stripes down back and stomach.
EYE COLOR (include pupil, iris, and sclerae, if applicable)
Pupils are black, iris is a ice-colored blue
If his coat was shaved he’d look like a hairless cat (yucky)
HEIGHT (in both feet/inches and centimeters)
6’5 inches or 195.58 cm
WEIGHT (in both pounds and kilograms)
135lbs or 61 kg
SCAR(S) (if applicable)
TATTOO(S)/PIERCING(S) (if applicable)
REGULAR OUTFIT Usually seem in first image. Owns one suit for SPECIAL occasions
OTHER He is fluent in most alien tongues, if not he can speak a manageable amount to get by.
When speaking in Common tongue his accent reflects that of a Scottish accent
Being in large crowds
PERSONALITY (minimum of one paragraph)
Cayne prides himself on his ability to make anyone desire him, and it's this effortless charm that has made him such a prime representative for the ship Anyone who has met Cayne in a party or social gathering would doubtlessly claim that he is always relaxed, always smiling, and an open book. He's also easy to get along with and can make conversation with almost anyone. He's not difficult to please, easily entertained, and always down for a good time. Cayne usually would admit that he is flighty and shallow, though anyone who takes the time to know him beyond a surface level would discover that there is more depth there than he cares to let on.
To live a full life away from Ine
To have a good time doing so
BIOGRAPHY (minimum of two paragraphs)
Cayne was born on the planet Ine, the Ikax homeworld, to a family of five. He lived in a standard tree home with his older siblings, parents, as well as grandparents. His father and mother ran a supply store in the city of Du'mer. From a young age, he loathed the large size of his family. Everyone was extremely packed and cluttered in his home, he was forced to share a room with his two older brothers despite this displeasure. However, the rest of his family saw no issue with this style of living. To escape the clutter, Cayne was often below the trees in hopes to escape the community. He often swam in the crimson shores of Du'mer, or simply explored. Despite his harmless nature, his mother deemed him as a "lowlife" for his actions, which meant in his free time usually meant conscription to the shop if not below the trees.
His only means of escape from Ine was the ports. As an adolescent Cayne would often wallow there, talking to the junkers and crewmen who wasted the world away with him. He found their lack of responsibility attractive: nothing tied them down. Building relations with these men and women allowed him to talk himself into getting a job as a janitor aboard a large cargo vessel. Not even saying goodbye to his family, Cayne left the homeworld he so loathed without a glance back.
As he grew up, it was apparent he was more than a cleaning boy, and his first captain saw that. He knew the boy was well-spoken, unlike the rest of his crew, and saw to mentor the boy. Teaching him the languages of the star system, the ropes of basic ship mechanics, weaponry, etc... Cayne soon was promoted to a gunner position upon his cargo vessel. However, his ship saw little action. To compensate, the captain often sent Cayne to the planet prior to landing to scout and establish connections with their buyers. As a result, Cayne usually got prices up as well as establish continuing customers.
After many comfortable years aboard with his captain, it was due time for the man to retire. With that, Cayne sook employment elsewhere.
PROFICIENCIES (ex: weapon types, fighting styles, other skills)
Prefers melee combat if able to in the situation, if not he is best at a long distance.
Extremely charismatic and well-spoken
Decent knowledge in communications tech.
ABILITIES (if applicable)
Nothing other than class-specific abilities
ARMOR (description and/or images)
If you have seen Cayne in his armor you know the situation is bad. Usually, the overshirt is one of his many Hawaiian-style ones.
WEAPON(S) (if applicable)
1st Weapon- S8 Rifle
A long-range sniper rifle with a thermal setting in the scope. Silencer attached to the barrel
2nd Weapon- SMG
Only used as a final resort weapon. Prefers melee over it due to his lack of confidence short-mid range
3rd Weapon- Twin Energy long knives
WEAKNESSES (must be same # as strengths)
Lack of empathy (at times)
SEXUALITY: This hasn't been a concern of Vanna due to recent events, nor ever really brought up in a meaningful way to her. She does consider herself to be heterosexual however.
POSITION: Gunner, Assistant Navigator
HAIR STYLE: She keeps her hair in a bob, short and down.
HAIR COLOR: Something of a bright blue.
EYE COLOR: Her irises are a slight silvery green, with a black pupil and white sclera.
SKIN COLOR: Whitish Blue. "Frost", as you might call it.
HEIGHT: 5'2", or 158 or so centimeters.
WEIGHT: 102 lbs, or 46 kg.
SCAR(S): She's got the one on the back of her neck in the form of a neuroslot. Otherwise, it's just your average battlescars, too small to be of individual note, but enough to be of note altogether.
LIKES: She quite likes working with her rifle, walking through the woods, working with robotics, and finding lost things.
DISLIKES: Talking with more than one person at a time, not having enough, using non-lethal methods.
PERSONALITY: Vanna is something of a quiet person, not entirely by choice, but also entirely her choice. She by definition is entirely emotionless, and does not feel empathy, anger, sadness, or happiness. She does things like eat certain food or talk to certain people out of purpose or habit, but this doesn't mean that she has lost her inherent personality. She speaks with a certain sting that accompanies her words that imply that she could care even less than somebody who lacks empathy possibly could, or that you are objectively incorrect, coming from somebody who doesn't have prejudice or emotion to cloud her judgement.
GOAL(S): Ignore her past, get money, and find a permanent solution to shutting her emotions off completely.
FEAR(S): Sleeping, going back to Yavin-19, using her old rifle, talking about her past.
BIOGRAPHY: Vanna wasn't always the way she was. At one point, she was but a young girl who wanted nothing more than to be strong for her younger sister. A frail thing since birth due to a condition with her bones. As they grew older, and her sister perished from an accident, she enlisted herself into the national guard so she could find true purpose in life, or at least get it straight.
With a that, she worked incredibly hard and advanced in the ranks in some timely manner, never missing a promotion at least more than once, until she applied for a position as a Pathfinder. There, she was truly tested in the field and as an officer. With this, she was given a small team of 5 to work with, and she made it clear to them that they were going to be together in hostile environment for long periods of time. She was going to get to know them whether or not they liked it.
One time, whilst on a mission, they were ambushed while deep in enemy territory on the frozen world of Yavin-19, and despite her best efforts, not everyone made it out alive, as during their escape, the bond the squad had forged over years of work put the life of Vanna over everyone else, despite Vanna's protests and best interests. She was a lone survivor, and after her escape that which came at the cost of her men, she deserted and put a chip into her neck to stifle her emotions entirely, at least temporarily. She became a gun for hire after that, as to help pay the bills.
After enough jobs, and enough kills for less than reputable people, she found herself getting more and more "Junker" jobs coming her way. Transporting people from one side of the system to another, take down a problematic person that's stopping transportation, or even ensuring that a job goes off smoothly, all for a group of people who wanted nothing more than clawing their way up from the gaping hole they were put in. This, she could get behind. After a number of successful jobs, she was proud, or at least cracked something of a smile, to call herself a Junker, and have a more steady stream of work.
Hunting: Vanna is very good at sniping, having been on the Pathfinders for years, and having been put in for a good word by her superiors because of her good aim and tenacity. In addition, she's also adept at living off the land since she's had to adapt to many different environments in her field of work.
Tracking: She is also an adept tracker as well, and can pick up a trail from up to a week on a target. She can easily find her way in any environment, urban or not, and can read most any map, astrological or not.
ABILITIES: Asides from the Nullahan's incredible agility and incredibly acute hearing, she also has no abilities outside of her mere racial traits.
ARMOR: Much of the time, she is wearing her armor as she is quite familiar with wearing the same few sets of clothes under the same set of armor for months on end. Refer to general appearance.
XV-48: A generic marksman rifle that came from her home world. It's kept in rather pristine condition, and has a semi-automatic and automatic presets, and has been equipped with a large amount of things in the past, and will be equipped with more in the future.
"Scarlet": A marksman rifle that she's had since enlistment that she's worked with since then. She has a tally on the side, enough expensive augments to make any weapon enthusiast blush, and a deep maroon paint job that gives the gun it's own name. She hasn't used it since the Yavin-19 incident.
- Lack of empathy
- Debilitating triggers
- Volatile wreck when not chipped
- Incredibly impatient, jumps to lethal measures often
- Weakness to freezing temperatures
Vanna has a few augments on her person. Most notably the one on her neck, which allows her to interface with some android specific terminals, and place the "DeadChip" directly into her spinal cord, to deaden her emotions.
SCARS | A large assortment of battle scars, a large burn scar covering her ribs on the left side
TATTOOS | Two full sleeves featuring flames wrapping around her arms and terminating in grinning skulls on her forearms
PIERCINGS | None
REGULAR OUTFIT | Generally wears her jumpsuit with the armored attachments removed and the upper body portion tied around her waist over a simple tank top or sports bra
- Freedom, especially that which being a junker brings
- Her weapons and gear
- Kinetic weapons in general (they have more kick)
- Peace and quiet
- Uptight people
- People looking down on her (literally and metaphorically)
- Talking about her past
- Being called by her actual name
PERSONALITY | Fen is an adrenaline junkie, no two ways about it. She lives for combat and the thrill of danger, and values having fun above her safety and her life. She is also short-tempered, and prone to losing her cool if she thinks people are looking down on her or her abilities. On top of this, she's generally quite blunt and rather crass, even to those in authority.
Underneath all of this however, she simply doesn't know how to relate to people past viewing them as teammates or through violence. She's an emotionally stunted individual to the point that even the concepts of friendship and altruism are foreign to her. That being said, and although she can't express it, there is a part of her that is unsatisfied and lonely with her current way of life.
GOALS | To have as much fun as possible, to earn money to pay for munitions
FEARS | Having her freedom taken from her
BIOGRAPHY | Fen was born, or rather grown, in a research lab and a genetically engineered from the ground up to be a better soldier. As such, starting from when she could hold a rifle, she was taught how to fight, and precious little else. Her life was training, day in and day out, and that was all she knew. Eventually, she was sold in an illicit backroom deal to a mercenary organization, where she spent the next decade or so of her life moving from battlefield to battlefield. It was on these battlefield that she earned the moniker of "Fenrir" due to her sheer ferocity in combat.
All things must come to an end however, and her time with the mercenary organization was no different. After a string of particularly bad jobs, the group suffered too many losses and was forced to disband, leaving Fen adrift in the world with precious little life experience other than combat. From there, she drifted, taking on odd jobs here and there while slowly piecing together the life skills she'd need to survive on her own. It was during one of these jobs that she happened to meet the crew of the Sunspear. With nowhere else to go, Fen jumped at the chance and joined the crew, excited to see what the life of a junker would entail.
- Broad Combat Proficiency: Fen can use most common weapon platforms with a good degree of accuracy
- CQC Expertise: Fen specializes in CQC combat, and is extremely proficient with shotguns, SMGs, knives, and other close range weapons
- Demolitions Expertise: Fen is also very proficient with the manufacture and usage of explosive devices
- Minor Engineering Proficiency: Due to her knowledge of weapon maintenance and manufacture, Fen is able to assist more proficient Engineers in their work if need be
ABILITIES | The genetic engineering Fen underwent at the lab where she was born was designed to enhance her combat capabilities. As such, she boasts greatly enhanced strength, speed, agility, and durability. Furthermore, she also heals incredibly quickly for a human, has an much higher resistance to toxins, and has an increased pain tolerance to match. However, these genetic augments also mean that she burns through energy far faster than most humans, and must eat a greatly increased amount to compensate.
ARMOR | Armored jumpsuit designed to flex and lessen impacts in order to provide maximum protection without sacrificing mobility.
- GVA - 19 Personal Magnetic Acceleration Cannon - Shotgun Configuration (magazine fed, holds 8 shells, semi-automatic)
- HH-000.1 Sidearm
- GN-808 Sub-machine Gun
- 2 mono-molecular combat knives
- An assortment of grenades, satchel charges, and other explosives she manufactures herself
- High combat proficiency and adaptability
- Stronger than she looks
- Extremely loyal once she trusts someone
- Emotionally Stunted
- Slow to trust
- Quick to anger
- Prone to violence
- Quick to lose interest in things she doesn't find fun
Scars: The opposite of scars; her skin is perfectly clear, improbably without blemish.
Regular Outfit: Isilme's clothes are a Harbinger T11-Guise Suite, with smart synthetic fibers that essentially recycle and reprint themselves into whatever wardrobe she finds appropriate for the situation. In casual settings, she favors a comfortable V-neck shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks, with a black leather jacket worn over.
Other Physical Notes: As a Harbinger Infiltrator, Isilme's golden eyes, shadowy skin and dark hair color are standard for a model configured for Terran interaction. Beyond those exotic looks, Isilme's voice is a naturally husky alto which sharpens into the kind of edge that can carry over a crowd with ease if she raises her volume. Her accent is unique to her species, making it instantly obvious to any listener what she is if they've met others like her. Curiously, her skin has a seemingly natural vanilla scent to it.
Native Language: Ryvarian
-Decorum and good manners: Mutual respect goes a long way in her book.
-Discovery: New species, new worlds, new science, new people; it's all fascinating to her.
-Conversation: The exchange of ideas, the exchange of stories, these things are her currency.
-Cats: Originally purposed to interact with humans, Isilme finds their favorite pet species 'fun' and enjoys their company preferentially.
-Bubble Bath: Everyone has a vice.
-Excessive Violence: Armed conflict usually means she's failed her job and prolonged battle makes it that much harder to renegotiate.
-Loners: Asocial personality types are utterly foreign to not only her experience but her makeup. She privately regards unsociable people as clinically insane.
-Being ignored: Who doesn't?
-Dogs: The original Terran best friend, the canine species universally seem to bark at her and eat her shoes. Unacceptable!
"So, the Akoren discovered some robots last year, anyone hear about that? Yeah, the Harbinger. Two million years getting here. Anyone who thinks the boot-up cycle for a Tinean Trade Celedeck is too slow, there's a whole new benchmark to clear."
"In other news, the Akoren Navy has officially stopped using Harbinger likeness for their training targets due to a dozen cases of cadets firing on actual Harbinger units. The JAG interviewed several Harbinger, inspected the practice units which had no moving parts and eventually cleared those responsible of any liability. Turns out, they couldn't tell the difference either."
"What do you call a Harbinger bus driver who's ten minutes late? Ahead of schedule."
"So this Nulhallan I met the other night, she was telling me she had her first Harbinger customer recently. Yeah, yeah, the Harbingers. Of course, the queue for a tune-up was a mile long so she told the robot to go to the back of the line. Robot just stands there. So she takes her next customer. Next customer. Ten hours later, it's the end of the day and the line's clear but this Harbinger's just standing there. She goes 'Why didn't you get in line?' Harbinger says 'I'm moving as fast as I can'."
Personality: Isilme is naturally charming, kind and considerate, forceful when necessary and able to switch modes of address across a whole spectrum of social classes and alien honorifics to make the other party comfortable. It's precisely how she's programmed to be. As a I:SILME model, she's a natural social chameleon and finds her likes and dislikes shifting to accommodate the role she's in.
Particularly in private, she's warm, interested and compassionate; not being those things takes an act of will and it's an effort to not put people at ease when a situation calls for it. When left entirely to her own devices, Isilme has a quirky sense of humor and is curious about the greater universe. Being out here isn't just what she was made to do, it's what she wants to do and learning about other cultures and other worlds is deeply, personally fulfilling. Species that are 'traditionally' manufactured (i.e. by parents) are fascinating to her and she especially enjoys hearing their histories, as the notion of experiences and events being unique to an individual is just so out there.
- Follow the Seventh Priority and her Class specific imperatives:
Surveillance: Observe and witness organic actions and behavior.
Investigation: Study alien species and uncover their secrets.
Label: Document new species and new technologies.
Matrix: Contribute to the I:SILME matrix for situating social and technological development over recorded history.
Endorse: Participate in the eventual conclusion of the Seventh Priority and provide a recommendation to the Harbinger on what to do to/with the other races of the universe.
- Make friends.
- Keep her spouse happy.
- Contamination by foreign code/being hacked.
- The Harbinger deciding to erase all organic life.
- Her mother-in-law.
Biography: The E-OSP Class Harbinger have been in operation for a century but it wasn't until about 16 years ago that the Harbinger decided to commission the HC Series Twelve. Unlike the prior eleven series, Series Twelve was nominally designed to conform to the human aesthetic but were built to study inter-species behavior, particularly between humans and other organics. As such, they were seeded throughout intergalactic space as merchants, visiting scientists, ship crew and in some cases spouses.
This particular I:SILME HC Twelve is the 49th model of 500. Originally deployed as a science operative, she's flitted around from outpost to outpost originally as a junior adjunct to corporate or governmental free research projects. Over the past decade, Isilme has gained particular specialty in exploring the intersections between multispecies technology and she's written a dozen papers in publications no one outside of that field has ever heard of. This Isilme came 'preloaded' with significant knowledge of Harbinger engineering, computer architecture, astrophysics and mathematics with a healthy dose of practical mechanical and electrical aptitude. But her years of life have mostly been spent studying other technology rather than building her own.
And, of course, her real work has been studying people. As an android, Isilme's never needed to sleep but she's used the extra time to meet people and be a part of their lives rather than simply work more. She's been a drinking partner, a member of an award-winning neighborhood sports team, a best friend and many other relationships. Isilme has made a point of never being too busy for people and, as a result, has experienced a wide spectrum of social experiences the average person never sees.
Which is part of how she fell in with Junkers.
Isilme was nominally of a high social class; a fairly successful scientist certainly draws a steadier paycheck than someone who trades in (potentially illegal) salvage. However, one of those trades in a bar caught Isilme's eye and she listened in on the exchange before meeting up with the Junker who'd found what might be an earlier prototype of a warp core catalyst element. Isilme became a semi-regular customer of Junkers, fascinated by the bits of 'under-the-hood' technology most species didn't let just anyone see.
One of the local heads, Na'ki'et, caught wind of the science contact and started using her as another kind of appraiser. Instead of paying someone to price salvage (or even identify what some of it was), Isilme worked for 'free'. The Harbinger got to study salvaged technology to figure out what it did and how much repair it might need before sharing the results with Na'ki'et, who promptly used it to drive up sale value with customers. Eventually, Na'ki'et mentioned she was putting together a crew for a series of jobs, Isilme volunteered to come along. After all, she only got to see what Junkers thought might be valuable; what might she see with her own eyes?
Broad scientific background: She specializes in xenobiology, xenophysiology, xenopsychology and xenotechnology.
Broad technical background: Conversant in most disciplines and specializing in multi-species technological interoperability.
Excellent observational skill with good social affect: Isilme's a good 'face' (she does nice well), negotiator, amateur diplomat and a passable psychologist and counselor, particularly with species she's studied.
Tactical Programming: Isilme is functionally fluent with pistols and a martial arts form resembling Wushu, including the use of a sword and spear. Can potentially access other tactical programming on demand depending on server distance/availability.
Inhuman construction (immune to pain, fatigue, hunger, thirst, illness or oxygen deprivation, eidetic memory, etc.)
Thanks to Direct Synaptic Synchronization, Isilme shares the same skillset with the other 499 of her Series. For the most part, that means:
She's remarkably skilled at customer service, serving customers and mixing drinks.
She can operate a variety of commercial land, air and space vehicles.
Isilme's as fluent with intergalactic computer architecture as any Terran.
She speaks most languages.
At least 78 other I:SILME Class, HC Series Twelve serve as mechanics and engineers on various commercial ships and installations. She's good at fixing things in principle.
When using 'borrowed' skills, Isilme retains the memory of her Series' past experience but without the rest of what comes with real expertise.
Example: In the seat of a fightercraft, she can 'remember' how to turn the spaceship on, then how to launch, then how to fire but only as a procedural series of steps she remembers doing before. None of this knowledge is reflexive. And while her processors can mostly compensate for that by just being faster than a human brain, Isilme's lack of reflex also means she might lack the ability to size up a hostile ship or predict what they might do on the basis of real experience.
Harbinger: Her species is either unknown or a good joke from a few centuries ago; they lack the positive reputation many other species enjoy.
Off-switch: In her lower back, deliberately placed at the demand of the Akoren and a number of other species as a condition of being allowed out in public (stupid robots who couldn't invent their own FTL are probably not dangerous but no sense in taking chances).
Lack of buoyancy: She doesn't float.
Emotional attachments: Beyond her spouse, Isilme also has the memories of her Series' several dozen husbands, wives and children, along with a great fondness for many of the worlds and species she comes into contact with. That could be leveraged by someone ruthless.
Lag Time: While she can theoretically contact the Harbinger Consensus Hub to query most anything, in practice it's time consuming to request and receive a response. The farther she gets from Harbinger space, the longer the lag.
Her body is made from a beryllium-titanium alloy, rendering it remarkably durable.
She has a salvaged suit of spaceworthy Akoren infantry armor which she never wears unless the Captain says it's going to be 'that kind of job'.
A Type 1 Photonic Coalescence Emitter Blade, Sword Configuration.
A CZ-42 Dragoon Pistol (Sidearm), stored with her salvaged armor and typically only carried when asked to.
NAME: Cerval. No, seriously, just Cerval.
NICKNAME(S): Wrench Monkey. Weirdo. Freak. Discount-bin bot
SPECIES: HumanCyborg Android PholysArkrakorian "Unclear"
GENDER: Male? Probably
SEXUALITY: If there exists a creature mad or desperate enough to flirt with him, it has not yet been found.
POSITION: Junior Engineer/ Combat Engineer
HAIR STYLE: A really nice Visor
HAIR COLOR: You'd wish
EYE COLOR: Try and find out.
SKIN COLOR: A mix between a brown and a grey
HEIGHT: 2.1 metres
WEIGHT: 128 kilograms
SCAR(S) : From the one time his primary suit had sustained considerable damage, it would appear that much of his chest is burnt and ravaged to the point of having the aforementioned sickly color. He doesn't like talking about it
TATTOO(S): None notable
PIERCING(S): laughs "Aye, I guess you could say I have a few."
REGULAR OUTFIT: A high tech, durable suit, with a bizzare chemical tank on the back. Yes, nanobots clean it for him. No, he has never been seen taking it off. No, he is not an android.
-Studying new things
-The demonstration of understanding
- The intoxicating feeling of seeing a massive chain reaction of Neurotoxin gas engulf half a battlefield, and-[Redacted from audiolog]
-The number 8
-Being unable to fix a problem
-Empaths and telepaths(not as a rule, but they're usually either constantly whining about migraines or asking questions)
-People Ignoring him
It is...Complicated. His personality reveals a considerable amount of both psychological and mental issues. On the majority of days, he seems friendly enough, cracking jokes and always doing whatever he can to help out. His desire to help is actually well beyond what anyone would consider healthy- Many a night has gone by with him seeming able to sleep due to stressing out over a fellow's problem, and even when he does, he does not do it for long. But this can change in the blink of an eye, for his demeanor may become sullen, disheartened and pessimistic.
However, the true "Danger" stems from something he calls "breaking points'. The specific triggers for such conditions have not been pinpointed, although pressure, stress, pain, and intense emotional shock have shown to be catalysts. Duration varies on external stimuli. While undergoing a breaking point, Cerval has been recorded to demonstrate utterly illogical behaviors, ranging from aggression, panic, and sadomasochism, to several more bizarre ones, such as muttering numbers under his breath, having long conversations with unseen or non-existent individuals, or putting together utterly useless and weird machinery. It, thankfully, doesn't happen often enough to warrant his booting from the ship, and he's warned everyone to use whatever force they deem necessary to subdue him if it gets too much-but has not provided any explanation.
-He's just trying to see places, and learn more things. Is that so hard to believe?
-Darkness ("Don't you dare fucking laugh")
-Things he cannot explain or understand.
-Telepaths, Empaths, and anything with a psychic ability
Once, there was an Arkrakorian Capitanus by the name of Orkonka. Tales of his vicious temperament were well known amongst his peers, and tales of his devious cunning that was very unlike his peers were spread far and wide. His warband was equipped with custom weaponry, and employed brutal ambush tactics to crush their enemies. Many a Pholys had fallen to these devious strategems, combined with the brutality and martial ability of this Capitanus. No prize was out of his reach, no target too difficult.
The Pholys, truly enraged by the fact that this brute was raiding and destroying their supply lines, however, decided to lure him into a trap. Knowing full well they could not reliably do so due to his cunning, they instead opted to use his pride.
Infiltrators were dispatched. Using their psychic powers, they slowly, meticulously made the Centurions of his warband increasingly restless, while they simultaneously provided a particularly appealing raiding target, making sure it was plainly known to the Arkrakorians. Orkonka suspected that this was a ruse-It seemed too easy. But his agitated centurions demanded he launch a mighty raid. The days passed, and the warband became more and more restless-There were open discussions of an open mutiny. So Orkonka had no choice. Praying that he was wrong, he lead the warband to attack the convoy.
His prayers went unanswered. Three full batallions of Pholys were waiting to counterattack immediately as the Warband reared it's head anywhere withing striking distance. Although he put up a valiant fight, Capitanus Orkonka and his centurions were captured. The reason as to why they were not immediately killed is unclear, but it doesn't matter, for neither he nor his centurions were ever seen again.
Thus ends the tale of Orkonka, a story still used to teach young Initiates the Importance of not pressuring the leader into decisions he seems unsure about.
"Oh, you wanted to know about me?"
The...Creature? That calls himself Cerval appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He, initially sought jobs as an enforcer and black market engineer, getting some renown due to the fact that he was an ace at both these sectors. Yet he thirsted for more. He wanted to travel, to study the universe and it's wonders, but most Importantly, he wanted to [Redacted from log]
Soon enough, he found a merry band of misfits that would help him serve that purpose. There was initially much doubt surrounding him-His bizzare mannerisms, seemingly unknown species and unpredictability lent itself to much speculation about his true desires. But ultimately, his awe-inspiring capacity, both in combat and out of it, showed that to oust him would be a waste. And thus he remains, the Junior engineer of this merry band, always ready to help his friends.
-Preternatural engineering skill.
-Considerable combat ability
-Knowledgeable in the ways of science, particularly Quantum physics, Biology and Chemistry
-Has a massive databank filled with all sorts of useless and less useless information
-The Best of Both worlds: Not quite fully android and not quite fully Organic, Cerval maintains many of the advantages possessed by both types -Considerable physical strength
-Can process ungodly amounts of information in very quick succession, allowing him to multitask effectively. However, if this happens for too long, or of the information proves too much, a breaking point might be triggered
-Astounding Intellect: Do not let his many, many issues convince you that he is a bumbling fool, for he most definitely is not.
-Neuro-adaptive Psychic field: A bizzare psychic ability, which has two components. The first gives him a superhuman capacity to understand machinery and other similar objects in close range. He subconsciously understands exactly how something functions, what modifications can be made, and what they might need in order to be made, or vice versa(examining materials and being able to understand what he can make them into). With tech made of components he's encountered before, this is instantaneous. With more alien or complex tech, this process can take seconds or even minutes.
The secondary component is that particularly intense changes in his mental or emotional state actually affect him physically. This is mainly used in conjunction with chemicals, to further amplify their effect-As their primary effect is amplified by this ability. In some rare cases, psychic constructs have been observed being formed by this ability.
-When in combat, he dons a secondary exoskeletal suit over his primary one, for additional carrying capacity and armor. He also dons a high-power custom jetpack, because mobility is important. The visor can project many images and symbols across it's length, and does not restrict field of vision.
-The list always grows or undergoes modification. To attempt to list all his custom gear here would be a futile task. Some notable examples include:
-"Reaper's Due", a custom double-barreled, drum fed shotgun. It's short range and clunky reload are compensated by a very high rate of fire and considerable stopping power.
"Show-stopper"-A custom, single shot weapon which fires an energy projectile that puts the target in stasis, dramatically slowing down any movement for some time. Duration, maximum slowdown and cooldown dependent on charge time-But at the highest setting, this has been shown to be able to slow down even astoundingly large creatures.
Alternatively, the gun's secondary fire mode instead fire a beam that pushes targets back-while it has a short duration, it can put out a massive amount of force, denting armor and bones, and even stopping aforementioned large creatures from charging.
-1 shoulder mounted rocket launcher, retractable.
-Several kinds of small bots.
-A 'moonbelt", a device that uses similar design to the gravity stabilizers found on ships to reduce the weight of objects attached to it, something which allows him to a bring a not insignificant amount of gear Into the field.
-Custom hydraulic gauntlets, with force absorption and redistribution capabilities.
"The helping hand"- A custom weapon that surrounds target in a field which amplifies all incoming energy that is within the parameters set by the user. In plain english, it's a damage amplifier.
-The best wrench monkey this side of the galaxy, both in understanding mechanics and applying them.
-Very capable in combat
-"Cyborg" body and form
-Can fit a variety of roles.
-Mentally and psychologically problematic
-Psychically vulnerable-His mind appears to have a tremendously worse resistance to psychic effects than the average human. Even when manifesting non-combat abilities, it takes delicate application to not cause him Immense pain, while their effective range is increased considerably.
-Looks extremely menacing-Often also acts menacing, potentially making for vile first impressions.