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Futuristic STILL untitled submarine RP Character Sheets (Closed to new characters)

Ha_lfLife

Ha_lfLife

Resident cynic
The official place to introduce your character prior to the actual RP. There is no template you're required to use here; choose whatever information and layout you're most comfortable with and that you think does your character the most justice. Please make sure to include a picture!

If you're looking for inspiration, here are some things to consider including:
  • The usual: name, age, gender, ethnicity, etc.
  • Crew role: a reiteration or enhanced title of their job on the crew
  • Hailing from: Where your character came from prior to joining this crew. Since the locations in this world are fictitious and generally underdeveloped, here you can include a brief description of the place if you'd like to elaborate.
  • Traits: 3ish singular traits defining the basis of your character
  • Weaknesses, if any are notable
  • Alignment: Generally good, malicious, lawful, chaotic, etc.
  • Rap sheet: Any previous crimes or run-ins worth revealing at this time
 
Hidayat
Nayla


[NAME] Nayla Hidayat

[AGE] 24

[GENDER] Female. She / Her

[SEXUALITY] Bisexual

[CREW ROLE] The Mechanic

[ORIGIN] Bandar Malaka, a big port city located in Malacca Strait, Southeast Asia. After the apocalypse, Southeast Asian countries formed a defensive pact, which with time slowly devolve into dozens of independent city-states connected in an alliance pact.

[ALIGNMENT] Neutral Good

[FACECLAIM] Freya Jayawardana



[POSITIVE TRAITS] Hardworking, Stoic, Kind, Resilient, Creative

[NEGATIVE TRAITS] Evasive, Insecure, Aimless, Vague, Unfriendly

[FEARS] Getting caught by the Engineering Guild. One can only imagine what they will do to her.


[PERSONALITY]
Growing up with her father as her role model, Nayla grew to become a creative and hardworking person just as he was. When she encountered a problem, she would stoically face it, study, and work on it until she finally understand what is going on and how she could resolve it. The mess with the Engineering Guild is an entirely different beast, however, she can't just tinker with it and made them go away like fixing an electrical problem. She could see that it is a matter of resilience and patience, with her being put against overwhelming odds, or rather an entirely unwinnable situation. After all, it only takes her to make one mistake, and they'll come straight for her.

Beneath her cold and aloof persona, lies a warm heart that purposely distances herself from others to ensure their safety, as not to get dragged into what she has gotten herself in. Nayla gets lonely sometimes, but she doesn't mind as long as that means innocent people will not be involved. Many people who only see this exterior side of her assumes that it is her arrogance, of being such a gifted mechanic that she did not think there is any crew or ship that is worthy of her skills, the only reason people still hire her is that she set such a cheap price for a great service.


[HISTORY]
Nayla's mother, unfortunately, did not survive the childbirth, and so it is left to her father to raise her. He quit the navy, giving up the free living space and all the benefits given by the government so that he could be with her the entire time, instead of having her raised by a family friend. Her father purchased a cheap living space in the Lower Area ("slum", so some people would call it instead) next to the shipyards and opened his own workshop, where he would service and repair all sorts of things from a clock to an engine, patching them up to a full restoration or great enough shape to be functional again. Sometimes ship owners, both of legitimate and shady backgrounds, would hire him for his skill.

Being raised surrounded by all sorts of gadgets and machinery, Nayla started to grow interested as well, showing an aptitude in machinery that must have been passed down. When she was old enough, her father would take her to his jobs and treat her like an apprentice instead of a daughter, passing his expertise and knowledge to her. And when Nayla was 18, like all kids her age she must enter the military conscription for two years. She was excited to explore the ocean for the first time, to see what lies beyond the protective wall of the underwater city they live in, but slightly worried about her father being lonely. Her father assured her and she left with no hesitation, where Nayla was assigned the role of the mechanic just like her father was. After the basic training camp and classes on engineering, the students are attached to active navy submarines in rotation, and she was assigned to one that will be conducting a recon operation.

Nayla greatly enjoyed the experience, the thrill of pushing the engine to the maximum when in a chase or keeping it silent and smooth when they are diving deep in hiding, and the humming and thumping of the machine that she found to be relaxing and beautiful. In the middle of her last expedition, she received a message that her father have died in an accident. Being in the middle of the ocean, there is not much detail she received on her father's demise, other than the fact that he was gone. Nayla was crushed, spending time alone in the engine room, where she could be away and drown herself in work. Eventually, she was discharged with a stellar record and a few awards in her short service.

Her talent caught the eyes of the local representative of the Engineering Guild, who offered her the chance of apprenticeship and the chance to be initiated as a member. With nothing else to lose, and thinking that her father would be proud of her, Nayla sold her home and fully dedicated herself to the guild. Rumors swirled of an engineering prodigy from Bandar Malaka, with all the markings of a promising recruit. After being so highly evaluated, despite not being a full member yet, the local guild drafted her to join a secret operation to develop new technology. This is where she accidentally found out that the new sea mine they developed was deployed in discreetly deployed in the open sea to test its destructive ability on what was described as a "live situation", one of which destroyed the ship her father was in. Enraged, she developed her own plan.

On the anniversary of her father's death, she sabotaged the entire operation and took the steps to ensure that the data is permanently destroyed, as well as leaking the detailed report involving the operation and all related deaths to the public before leaving Bandar Malaka on the first ship out. The Engineering Guild was embarrassed and enraged, issuing a secret order to have her caught for a proper punishment regarding her "disobedience". She worked for a couple of years in Port Fukuoka until she was found and nearly caught, then after being alerted of the guild's intention, Nayla never settled for long in one place and continually hop from one ship to another for a short gig as the ship's mechanic.

Presently, Nayla is employed by the Red Siren in a short-term contract. The pay is not good, the hazard is high, the crew is dysfunctional, and the ship is perhaps the worse she's ever been. Sometimes she wonders if it was a mistake to accept the job on the ship, and yet despite all those, for some reason she grew fond of everything and is currently, seriously, considering extending her contract. Though if you ask, she will never admit all those and would give something else as an answer.

[IMPORTANT CONNECTION]
  • Adi Hidayat (46 years old): He was a Captain in the navy, a person respected and admired for his engineering skills and knowledge, which he slowly passed down to his young daughter until the time of his death.

[ADDITIONAL NOTES]
  • 5'31" tall (162 cm).
  • Capable of speaking multiple languages: English, Indonesian, Chinese, Bahasa Melayu, Japanese.
  • Sleeps in the engine room. Made her own cozy bedding in a corner.
  • Can hold on her own in a fight.
 
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[/comment]here
outfit :
mentions :


interactions :
Jean Marlowe
Dashiell


[Name] Dashiell Jean Marlowe
[Age] 26
[Gender] Female
[Sexuality] "Never thought about it, I don't have time for that right now... Maybe one day..."
[Ethnicity] A citizen of The Ark (ethnicity is a term from times passed)
[Crew Role] Petrologist
[Alignment] Chaotic Good

[Origin] New Zealand, The Ark.
Long ago, a wealthy, eccentric, genius, artificer--Sir. Thomas Marlowe--and his fellowship, foresore the calamity of nuclear warfare and spent their entire fortunes on creating a massive underground complex, which is known to this day as The Ark. Dash's ancestor as well as Dr. Jacob Hart, and Dr. Samuel Hemingway designed and outfitted the complex with sub-terranean life support systems with the help of a large workforce; everything they could imagine a colony of humans would need to continue the species' existence underground for centuries. The complex itself was originally an old salt mine, but the old abadoned tunnels and heavy machines became a shelter from the decaying surface and radioactive isotopes. The Ark's sterility is not only found in the mechanics of filtration placed there by Dash's forefathers, but in its great walls which surround its people in thick layers of halite. It is a glistening white mineral which dominantly occurs within sedimentary rocks where it has formed from the evaporation of seawater or salty lake water. Vast beds of sedimentary evaporite minerals, including halite, can result from the drying up of enclosed lakes, and restricted seas as is characteristic of coastal New Zealand. Halite itself is naturally antiseptic, it is beautiful and it is cleansing. It is the hallmark of The Ark. The community itself is controlled by a dictatorship led by the three families, where Arkians are known for their coldness towards strangers, and an adherence to logic and a rejection of emotional reasoning.

[Positive Traits] level-headed, logical, articulate, intelligent...
[Negative Traits] naive, impatient, impulsive, brash, blunt...
[Likes] cleanliness, order, like-minded people, interesting conversation...
[Dislikes] disorder, ill-mannered people, illness, germs, disruption of her work...

[Personality] Dash is a perfectionist with an undying desire to unravel the secrets of the underground. It is all consuming and it leads her life. To have conducted the foremost of her existence with her eye down the barrel of a microscope, she sees the world in shades of straight lines and geometric patterns. Her mind whirs kaleidoscopically, and this can be overwhelming at times. She performs well in the art of besetting one's self with troublesome thoughts, as she easily becomes hyperfixated. The nature of her upbrining within the sterile confines of The Ark has created a certain standard that she lives by (or at least tries to). Cleanliness is at the forefront of this standard, always cleanliness. There is a certain type of aggression the brews within her when that pattern is disrupted, a type that causes uncharacteristic outbursts from a person that is otherwise incredibly stable and level headed.

[History] All Dash has ever known is The Ark, a complex underground settlement tucked away from the sting of Sun and the teeth of radioactive decay, and it is her jail...
2500 years after The Ark's birth the Marlowes' still exist as a direct lineage to the original Sir. Thomas Marlowe, with careful and tactful marriages between the Harts', and Hemingways', that ensured the line not only survived but that the knowledge of thousands of years of research stayed within the families and the families only. Knowledge is precious, for it is power in an age that has lost it. She knows this best, as it was drilled into her mind from a young age, that and her duty to marry within the family... As the only child of the current Marlowes' the pressure is as persistent as it is heartbreaking. Dash's only desire lies in the secrets of the geology beneath her, and her guiding light is the possibility of strenghtening her crumbling home. Machincal things only last so long, and strengthening their wilting frames is perimount to their survival. The possibility of mining managanese from the depths of the ocean has become her obsession. The opportunity to board the Red Siren not only provides her the opportunity to run from her responsibilites to her family, but to truly explore the wonders of the world, that which she has never known. With her life on hold within the walls of The Ark, Dash seeks outwardly, to the ocean, to landscapes far away, to what could be not only answers but the pinnical of her life's work. There is desire there, a desire to prove herself as a scientist, and not just the beneficiary of her lineage.

 
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scroll





❝
Sometimes, to trust the sea isn’t so much the point, anymore, as to know— without minding it—the sea’s indifference.





Carl Phillips
















navigator



kolya







full name

Kolya Zimin






age

29






ethnicity

Russian






sexuality

Bisexual






languages

Russian, Icelandic, Norwegian, English

































To Know, Water


Austin Wintory




















01.



visage

















height

5'6"






weight

145lbs






hair c.

Blond






eye c.

Green






faceclaim

Jack Lowden























02.



psyche









Quiet, self-assured in his competency without being arrogant, and even-keeled, most people have a hard time believing the stories that go around about the thieving and fighting Kolya's done, even though they’re all written in scars, tattoos, and brands on his arms. But first and foremost, Kolya is a survivor who will do what he must without hesitation or guilt. Though not especially mean-spirited or cruel, he does firmly believe that in the end, it's every man for himself, and he's not about to stick his neck out for someone if it doesn't directly benefit him.

With a rough upbringing on an Arctic oil drilling colony and in various smuggling and pirate vessels, Kolya's very good at the sort of social situations that sprout up in these places. He's perfectly willing to become overly aggressive and finish a fight ugly if he thinks he's getting set up for bullying. If you don't start anything he won't either, preferring to get along with his crew mates. He's equally happy to be alone with his equipment as he is in the middle of a gathering.

Kolya is also deeply religious, belonging to a movement common only to those who live their lives in the deeps, and considered a strange fringe cult by others. Though it has no official name, adherents worship the ocean itself as a primordial mother deity. Known by many names from half-remembered mythologies, or no name at all, they believe that returning to the ocean is a sort of homecoming, of humanity returning to the ancient waters they first came from. Darkness, the unknown, and whale falls are all considered deeply sacred.


















03.



history









Kolya is a native of Arkangel, the largest city in the Arctic Ocean, named after the old city of Russia that most of its inhabitants' ancestors used to live. With its numerous oil and mining colonies, Arkangel is a powerful, wealthy city. With its strict social hierarchy, it’s a terrible place to live if you aren’t born into its elites. Born an orphan, Kolya's early life was spent in domestic servitude to an elite family, until he got caught stealing. At only eight, he was branded as a thief and sent off to one of Arkangel's oil drilling colonies. There, in between long hours and hard labor, Kolya really learned how to steal.

He was about ten when the small colony was hit by pirates hunting fuel for their subs. Seeing his chance, Kolya stowed himself away in one. He was caught several days later, and after a lengthy debate, the crew decided to keep him, if only because their elderly navigator took an immediate shine to him. She kept him busy teaching him her trade, though as he got older Ylfa couldn't keep him from joining the crew in doing crimes. She passed when he was about seventeen, and wrecked with grief for the first time in his life, he left the sub and made his way around the world jumping from one ship to another, sometimes as just an extra hand or muscle, but mostly as a navigator. Skilled with working with most kinds of old SONAR and radio tech and more than capable of handling himself in a fight, he's been able to get himself on just about any smuggling or pirate crew he wants to be for the last several years. He's been with this crew for about two years now--he's starting to enjoy the perks of seniority and would hate to have to start over again.


















04.



gallery


































05.



connections

















Jette Sabina



Kolya respects the captain deeply, and has been through enough scrapes with her to trust her too. Due to seniority, sometimes functions as her de facto first mate.

















Nayla Hidayat



Kolya respects Nayla's skill as an engineer immensely, and cares about her in a rather protective, almost older brother fashion.

















Luz



Thinks very highly of Luz's skills as a diver. Kolya also treats Luz a bit like a younger sister.

















McCoy



Have you SEEN this large murder cowboy? He's perfect. Kolya loves him.

















Rayan alSharjah



Kolya does not think very highly of Rayan, and mostly considers him a useless rich boy. Doesn't expect him to last long.

















Dashiell Marlowe



Dash is new, but first impressions imply that she's desperately out of her depth, poor thing.





















06.



miscellaneous

















wanted for

Theft, piracy, smuggling, armed robbery, assault






tattoos

most notable tattoos include a stylized orca on the back of his left hand (a smuggler imitation of a guild mark for a navigator), an old brand of a cat on his outer right arm (an Arkangel thief brand), and an intricate design of a sea serpent on his left shoulder in scarification (religious iconography)




















♡coded by uxie♡
 
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Rayan







  • Rayan alSharjah



    34



    Ship Medic



    Surgeon



    May 02



    Male



    New Dubai



    Straight




    height
    weight

    6'2" (188cm)
    185 lb


    alignment
    ancestry

    Lawful Neutral
    Persian/Emirati


    Languages

    Arabic, Persian, English

    appearance

    Tall, svelte with broad shoulders, dark hair and eyes. Large hands, left hand mutilated and often covered. While inhabiting DohaDubai, maintained a polished look; this always included silks, suits, heirloom rings, well-groomed face and body, and styled hair. After leaving the capital, his appearance became more self-maintained and simplistic; became habitually less clean shaven, hair grew longer, simpler synthetic cotton raglan or collared shirts and trousers with a simple belt.

    Essences

    Sandalwood, Patchouli, Mint

    face claim

    Hamid Fadaei




/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */
© weldherwings.
 
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Luz - The Diver - WIP
Screenshot (5).png
FC: Shay Mitchell

​
NAME] Luisa Luz

[AGE] 27

[GENDER] Female. She / Her

[SEXUALITY] Bisexual

[CREW ROLE] The Diver

[ALIGNMENT] Chaotic Neutral

[FACECLAIM] Shay Mitchell

[POSITIVE TRAITS] resourceful, spontaneous, fearless, charming, persistent

[NEGATIVE TRAITS] rebellious, mischievous, devious, suspicious, nosy

[LIKES] freedom, listening to stories, causing a little chaos

[DISLIKES] haughty rich folk thinking they’re better than others, people trying to control her or others who are weaker, being underestimated

[QUIRKS]
To stay in shape for her dives, she is often found doing exercises - both normal and unusual - in random places around the ship.
Will play pranks on members of the crew.
Does great impressions.

[LANGUAGES KNOWN] English, Spanish, French, Fragments of Sign Language

[APPEARANCE]
Height: 5’7" (170cm)
Weight: 135lb (61kg)
Eyes: Dark brown
Her olive skin and dark coffee brown hair give her an almost exotic look depending on the seas the crew winds up, especially in a world far out of reach from the sun. Her figure is athletic and lithe, but not overtly skinny. Will wear whatever they can scavenge, preferring darker shades and loose, oversized clothes that hang off her shoulders and aren’t restrictive when she’s not in diving suits and gear.

[PERSONALITY]
Her whole life she had been told to follow orders, listen and not be heard, serve those who are more important than you. She was groomed to be charming and witty when spoken to, to mind her manners and smile, and to be agreeable and hospitable to every whim. It was a fine balance of being useful but not overly so. The rich and powerful she worked for often forgot that she had been brought up on Guidance where they are taught many things. She didn’t try to remind them, often preferring they think she was merely a dumb, pretty face. They spoke freely when they didn’t think anyone of importance was listening in.

Deep down she longed for freedom. Being stuck in one place and mistreated for years made one dream of better things. Now that she’s finally away from that place she will do *anything* to never go back to that life. She revels in her rebellious nature. Everything she always wished she could say or do, she easily can now. She tends not to hold back, unless she’s put in a position where she must play nice to get what she or the crew needs. Then she can turn on the charm.

Luz has an adventurous and fearless spirit, often the first to willingly jump towards danger rather than away from it. She doesn’t mind taking risks, as long as *she* is the only one who can be affected by the consequences.

[ORIGIN]
There’s a place called Innocence where unwanted children are sent when they have nowhere else to go. Whether they are orphaned, or children born in a location where there are overpopulation laws in effect, they are brought here to be taken care of and raised. Of course, they are never told where they came from or given any information on who their parents were. They are merely given a first name, a healthy upbringing, and as the ones running the place like to proclaim, the gift of a chance at life.

When they are old enough, they are shipped off to a place called Guidance. It is here where they are taught everything that can make them viable workers. Hospitality needs; how to read and write, understand a few languages, clean, serve - along with grunt work; swimming, diving, fishing, etc. Other important features to make them appealing were also touched upon, including manners, presentation, entertaining, and anything else that could make them essential.

Representatives from all the richer vessels, cities, and resorts come to Guidance to recruit their expendable workers. It is here where Luisa was drafted by the recruiter from New Atlantic City, a hub of entertainment including a big time casino that was built underneath near the North American shoreline based off of its predecessor in Old New Jersey.

[HISTORY]
Luisa had always dreamed of the day she’d finally get out of Guidance. When dubbed too pretty for grunt work and told she’d be working at a casino, she should have been thrilled. Except the thrill for her had always been in diving into the deep unknown, exploring more of the world that remained, feeling free in the water. Being trapped inside within the same facility for the rest of her life sounded dreadful. Especially when that also meant she’d have to satisfy the rich and pompous’ every beck and call. At least she was alive, they loved to remind her.

Her life was subjected to serving drinks, dealing cards, tending to the casino-goers to make sure they continued to spend their money. Flashing a smile here, flirting a bit there, cleaning up the spilled drinks and whatever else that was left behind by the inebriated. She constantly had to remind herself of the manners they’d taught her back at Guidance, finding it hard to hold her tongue at the requests they made and the way they spoke to her and the rest of ”the help”. The treatment was harsh, but if the guests were rich enough and spent enough money, those in charge seemed to turn a blind eye. At the very least, at least she had her coworkers to commiserate with.

It wasn’t until one of the patrons asked her to watch the diving races with them that she realized there was some hope of happiness for her. She could dive again. It wasn’t entirely an escape, but it was an ounce of freedom away from serving awful people that she longed to take. Unfortunately, the racers were designated to be only male. The women workers in the casinos had been selected for a reason, after all. And the men selected for diving had other grunt work duties in between race nights. That didn’t stop Luisa from continuing to convince one of the divers to let her sneak in their place.

The convincing took a good, long while. It was dangerous out there, for one thing. Not fun and games like it was for those watching behind the glass and making bets. And if they were caught there was no telling what the consequences might be. Despite all that, anytime between whatever shifts she had out on the floor, she continued to visit the divers and plea with them. Eventually she broke down one of them during their practices. Juan, a young man who’d been back on Guidance with her and knew of her skills, figured she would be fine and took her along with them one day. The rest of the boys were all surprised that she could actually keep up.

Luisa’s visits continued for months, sneaking down to do some diving work with the guys on their off days, slipping in during some of their practices, getting closer with Juan and the lads and enjoying her time with them far more than being hospitable on the floor. They strictly never allowed her to actually do a race though. It was too risky. Until one day when Juan had been overworked and injured during some diving job. Just before one of the biggest races was going to take place, and of course they demanded he be present for it, injury or not. With the guys unwilling to risk their friend getting hurt further, and with enough of Luisa’s convincing, eventually Juan agreed to let her take his place in the race. The girls helped cover for her, the guys kept an eye on her, and altogether it ended up being an even more thrilling race than anticipated. They were going to get Juan and celebrate once the excitement died down.

Except Juan wasn’t there when they returned to the divers quarters. But one of the owners, accompanied by some rich VIPs who’d spent a lot of money on the races were there waiting to congratulate them. Finding Luisa in the midst should have caused a stir, but one of the VIPs took an interest in such a turn of events and asked if she could accompany him for the rest of the night. The owner gladly accepted the man’s terms and ordered Luisa to do so.

Dinner, drinks, conversation; everything seemed uncomfortably normal until they were suddenly alone in a room together. It was there that the man explained what the consequences were going to be for breaking the casinos rules. The owners were going to punish the divers involved by upping their shifts, races and diving expeditions included, making them even more daring and dangerous for the enjoyment of the casino-goers. The girls that’d helped cover for her would be relocated. Juan had already been found and dealt with accordingly. And Luisa would be sent back home with himself to be his personal servant. Tending to his every whim, fancy, need… he wasn’t able to finish before she grabbed the steak knife from the dinner and jabbed it through his hand into the table.

Luisa ran after that. She knew this casino better than this man, all ins and outs, how to swiftly move through the crowd, find the right people to help her sneak out on one of the transport vessels that would take her away from New Atlantic City.

She’s been under the radar for three years now, going by just “Luz” now, sweet talking her way from job to job and her usual selling point being she isn’t afraid of going in the water. About a year ago she ended up on the Red Siren and with the freedom they give her to dive into the water for jobs, she doesn’t see herself leaving anytime soon.

[RAP SHEET]
Wanted for the attack at New Atlantic City. Murder of Juan, one of the casino’s beloved divers. (Wrongly accused, but the casino needed someone to blame.)
Stabbing of a casino VIP member.

[ADDITIONAL NOTES]
TBD
 
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Click Squares and Scroll
  • Summary
    Name: Jette Sabina
    Age: 46
    Birthday: August 24th
    Role: Captain
    Languages: Semi-conversational in most major surviving languages,
    Height: 5'4" (1.6 m)
    Weight: 140 lbs (64 kg)
    Skills: Espionage, Information-Gathering, Networking, Discreetness, Making Suspicious Things Look Less Suspicious, Light Weaponry, Hand-to-Hand, and a host of other casual proficiencies that her jack-of-all-trades job necessitated
    Traits: Sly, Efficiently Spoken, Pragmatic
    Alignment: Too Good at Being Bad
    Appearance
    Face
    • A crisp sort of beautiful, with strong cheekbones and a prominent jawline. On a good day, she can still trick herself into thinking she hasn't outgrown her youth, but she has never been the sort to be mistaken for younger than her own age.
    Physique
    • She probably couldn't hide a life of keeping her body in its best shape; her limbs, her movements, all of it exudes a history of confident athleticism, even where the muscles have begun to fade. She's slim but not quite the model that she used to be; the muscles are still there, just buried a tad deeper than they once were. She's not particularly tall but she knows how to use her stature to her advantage.
    • She moves with assuredness that she can handle her surroundings, even if they're unfamiliar. Occasionally, it looks like she has forgotten to favour her left hand; her right, with its mechanical digits, gets a bit more practice with day-to-day tasks than it probably should.
    Outfit
    • When she's working - ie. when the crew is doing a job - she wears a tight black tactical suit that doubles as a wetsuit, with compartments and straps for hooking on various accessories and equipment without compromising movement or stealth.
    • When they travel into a port to trade or recruit, she has a stressed brown overcoat that trails to her shins, with pockets well-obscured enough to covertly holster a weapon even when weapons aren't allowed, or to hide valuables and payments while making her way through disreputable streets
    • When the ship's en route and there's not much going on, she wears various things, but often resorts to pants and an athletic tank top in some tone of grey or black.
    • Always - a glove over her right hand. Often adds one to her left hand too, either because it's useful for her work or because she doesn't need to draw attention to a single gloved hand, for example when she's in a crowd. It's mostly a protective practice, though, to preserve the mechanics as best she can against dirt, rust, and whatever else makes the gears squeak.


Code by Ambiloquous
 
JUDGEMENT
It's got an awful bite. Keeping track of everything we lose.

another hole to mend
the muscle
tell me you can’t stay.
turn to hate
— orville peck
birth name: oswald whittle
alias: mccoy
scroll

> > McCoy
age ; 28
gender ; cismale
ethnicity ; of Jamaican descent
sexuality ; homosexual
alignment ; lawful neutral
faceclaim ; stephan james

> > Crew Role
weapons expert and hired muscle

> > Hailing From
Sabine, a converted oil rig city domed and pulled underwater. Located off the coast of Texas and Louisiana. Notable for its role in manufacturing ships though usually from scrapped materials. A less than savory place with a “hands off” style of governing its people.

> > Looks
A dark, wolf-like look in his eyes. Relies on the quiet, threatening expression and posture he's constructed over the years, but occasionally it breaks with a wide smile and he's warm and inviting like a campfire. Black skin, tight curls cut short, scraps of facial hair. Tall and broad shouldered at 6'0. Lined with scars, cuts, and rough hands. Wears cowboy attire: long dusters, boots, worn clothes, and a holster.

> > Traits
He's steadfast and steady, plodding along a dangerous path and stopping only to lick his wounds when he gets bit. He survives like an animal which leaves little room for the ornate and extravagant. It's humbling to know so much about the road and nothing about science, art or society, but this is a man who has death dripping from his coattails; champagne in his hands would look strange—he knows this, everyone else does too. He is an uncouth man of cruelty; rides in on dust, rides out on blood. He speaks plain, maybe sometimes too plain, but he seems to have at least a shallow understanding of when and where to mince words. Part of hunting is talking up old ladies, parsing information, locals, he's capable of that much. The other part is knowing how to watch, listen, tell when there's a bit of someone's past in the area, know how to sniff it out from the unimportant. People watching and a bit of detective work. He's taught himself to hug the sidelines and be observant. People'll call him shy for it, and maybe that's true, an unintentional consequence of removing himself from groups until it felt uncomfortable to be so close to the busyness of bodies.

> > Rap Sheep
murder, assault, theft

McCoy entered this world as a boy of thirteen years with a revolver in his hand and smoke coming off the barrel. He’d been born out of vengeance and baptized in blood, and for a long time he’d know only that.

Before McCoy, he was Oswald Whittle, an immigrant found half drowned in a trading vessel by pirates. When they pried him from the storage room—the only dry place on that ship—he’d waded past his family’s bodies to make a new one out of criminals. He had only been five years old then and seven when they docked in Sabine and sold him into hard labor building ships. The following six years were of the shipyard working and watching children getting chewed up by gears, but never once had the leaving been planned. Instead he stole an opportunity he’d probably passed up for years out of fear, taking the gun from a labor recruiter’s holster and shooting him in the heart when he'd finally allowed himself to be guided by rage.

He would end up trading his freedom for another kind of prison though. There was a special hate seeded in his heart and he had now known the justice a killer’s hand brought and the solidity of death. He’d spend the next twelve years tracking the crew that had sold him to Sabine throughout the seas, finding them, and killing them with the same gun that had given him his name. He learned to hunt this way, was consumed by it with survival as an afterthought and nothing else. He experienced humanity from a distance and when it invited him in, he turned away in resolve for retribution.

He found them in alleyways and judge’s estates, with families and alone in cold cells. He’d find them in saloons in outskirt towns and he would come in as swift and absolute as a hammer and leave behind a body in the middle of a poker game. They were all equal in his eyes. They’d all moved on, but McCoy was their past in the flesh, there to tie the punishment to the crime after all these years. Toward the end, he knew of hate without reason. Why he’d taken up the gun in the first place, he couldn’t rightly remember.

The last death brought about nothing but blood in the air mixed with heavy drops of dome condensation. A life’s purpose fulfilled in youth. He had given up everything and reaped his reward of a heart made empty. He’d sit with a dead man for a long time, head tilted up to the rain to wash away the hate. Eventually, McCoy would learn how to live.
© reveriee
 
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