Sunbather's Futuristic Character Treasure (Feedback HIGHLY appreciated)

[Sunbather]

Hello! This is my character collection. Here I preserve and showcase all characters I've made that I ended up being truely happy with. Feel free to look through them - Most of them also have a nifty character sheet I made. You're totally invited to leave a comment if you read through one (I know, I tend to write very long sheets) and give me your feedback. Have fun!

Realistic/Modern Overview (Click)


Modern:


● Taylor Maria Bajalica


● Julie Chyoko-Yates


● Emily Liljeqvist


● Emilia Rashida Chambers


● Viktor Musa Raith-Zadeh


● Mercedes Aspen


● Wyatt Wilson


● Samantha Kendrick

Futuristic Overview (Click)


Futuristic:


● Pagan Wye


● Dylan Østine Quinlan


● Talia Baardwjik


● Ava Sadaat


● મેاكلعરك

Fantasy Overview (Click)


Fantasy:


● Naomi Bailee King


● ðvبiðاكل


● Chloé Adrianna Pavlyuchenko


● Ludwid Nine Vasquez


● Acacia De Santis, Squalid Servant


● Savannah Baron


● Romeé Quiet Haven

Fandom Overview (Click)


Fandom:


● Saraya'Kon nar Ciricide | Mass Effect


● Scarlett Carter | Harry Potter


● Avant Midori | Tokyo Ghoul


● Harleen van Sant | One Piece


● Giles Riven | Soul Eater


● Star De La Hoz | Star Wars


● Freyja Inoue | Assassination Classroom


● Zoéy Gibson | Pokémon


● Senneth Monhaupt | Full Metal Alchemist

​

Futuristic:

(click to view)

​

Pagan Wye

​

Dylan Ø. Quinlan

​

Talia Baardwjik

​

Ava Saadat

​

Worldeater Mortgas

​

​

 

[Sunbather]

Pagan Wye


"Basically... I'm a total rockstar"
​

■ Vitals ■

■ Character Name: Pagan Wye


■ Alias / Nickname: Twix


■ Gender: Female


■ Age: 25


■ Birthday: 31st of October


■ Place of Birth: Unknown


■ Current Residence: None; traveling


■ Occupation: Mechanic


■ Appearance ■


Pagan stands at around 5'7" in height and has an average, if not somewhat lean build. Her saphire-blue mane has a metal shine to it, and often sports dyed ends to create a few gaudy spots such as silver or pink. Even more chaotic than her highlights is her make up, which appears to be applied carelessly and comes in a variety of colors. Though the blue eye shadow is a stable of her appearance, she is eager to give new products a try, and often looks like a surrealistic artist's canvas. She usually sports a jumbo-sized bomber jacket, its sleeves covering her arms and hands to a large degree. Her body is coated in a skin tight suit, made of what appears to be a flexible fabric that also offers some protection. Wye loves her boots and sneakers dearly, though they are usually grotesquely oversized for her otherwise delicate build. Last but not least, the mechanic sports a pechuliar set of techy gadgets in her face mask and her claws. The former being a mere aid in her demanding line of work (though it certainly has been modified in a fit of eccentric creativity), the latter being... of more hostile intent. Kitty's got claws.

• Personality
• Background

• Wye is a prankster, goofball and a bit of a sadist. While she isn't crue, she has a bit of an extreme sense of "Schadenfreude", finding great delight in letting others run into disaster. Usually (actually, pretty much every time, but... Okay, listen! I didn't tell you this or I might have to change this policy, and I'm not too keen on that.) she'll intervene before anything too bad happens. However, if you're making a funny face as you encounter seemingly inevitable death, then hey - She just HAS to see that.
  
  
  One thing nobody would even dream of denying is that Wye is an exceptionally curious person. Fittingly, a hobby of hers is to disassemble things in order to learn how they function, and also how to get them back up running. This inherent inquisitiveness is an attribute which spreads throughout all aspects of her life. Whether it's finding out how it feels to sleep in a hollowed out tree or what the closest predatory wildlife would taste like flambéed - If an idea sparked in her head she'll follow through. And mind you, Wye never regrets these experiences. If she has set her mind on something, her childish ego will push her forward, no matter how miserable and unpleasant the experience is. Admitting defeat is no option. Unless something is boring her from the getgo
  
  
  That being said, Wye is undoubtedly more of a stubborn, principal-driven person, rather than noteworthily sturdy or determined. In fact, she's quite the whiner. How dare you for not talking her out of trying to brush a tiger's teeth! How dare you for not talking her out of tickling an irascible, professional psychopath! Those were awful ideas and it's totally your fault for not talking her out of it. Additionally you'll get to hear her cry about it for weeks. And that's if you're particularly lucky.
  
  
  Speaking of childishness - You could sum up a large part of her personality by saying that she's playful. (*cough* She has a massive gambling problem. *cough* Don't let her get near any one-armed bandits. *cough*) She loves arcades and pranks, and to fully round out the kiddo vibe she can give off she tends to be a little clumsy sometimes. Oddly enough, Wye's absolutely grace- as well as skillfull when she's crafting a masterpiece. Err... I mean works on machinery. However, in everyday life, she leans towards having two left feet, regularly stumbling or falling for no reason.
  
  
  Wye suffers from an extreme case of inability to deeply connect with people, almost to the point where one has to assume it is a compulsive thing. Not that she's an unaffectionate person, but people getting too touchy or chummy with her trigger a stressed out state of mind, prompting her to wiggle out as quickly as she possibly can. Oddly enough, she's hopelessy romantic and believes in love on first sight and that perfect someone for everyone. A contradiction that upsets her somewhat frequently.
  
  
  Disclaimer: You are, however, 100% certain to never even be a distant acquaintance if you eat chocolate in front of her without offering her a piece. She's just about the biggest sweet tooth you will ever meet.
  
  
  It probably doen't come as a surprise, but Wye's favorite holiday is Halloween. Not only do people give out candy, no - You can also scare your friends shitless. What's not to love? Oh yeah, it's also her birthday.
• Under construction.

 

[Bone2pick]

I can give you brief feedback for Becky (general impressions without providing examples) if that's something you would appreciate? If you want specific examples for each critcism, then that could take a while for me to get to.

 

[Bone2pick]

It's obvious you put a lot of thought and love into your characters. Becky has plenty of history, character, and direction. That takes effort, kudos for that. Over all I like the girl — I like her mechanical aptitude, I like her relationship (strained as it is) with her father, I like her infectious personality, and I like that she finds the humor in other peoples misfortune.


I'm only ok with the clumsy shitck. It feels like distinguishing trait filler, but ultimately it's harmless imo. I can take it or leave it, but I wouldn't hit readers over the head with it.


But I flat out don't like the pick pocket/thief thing she has going on. It doesn't feel organic, it's like I'm reading a separate character. If you want her to have a shady career I would suggest linking her mechanical jobs to an organized crime outfit or something similar. Imo Becky as a thief doesn't add a nice layer of complexity, it just makes her convoluted. It would leave her as a prankster, mechanic, mech pilot, charming, clumsy, and a thief...


Again, let me restate that Becky is character that almost any detailed roleplay would be happy to accept. But a few tweaks, imo, could really make her first class.

 

[Sunbather]

It's obvious you put a lot of thought and love into your characters. Becky has plenty of history, character, and direction. That takes effort, kudos for that. Over all I like the girl — I like her mechanical aptitude, I like her relationship (strained as it is) with her father, I like her infectious personality, and I like that she finds the humor in other peoples misfortune.
I'm only ok with the clumsy shitck. It feels like distinguishing trait filler, but ultimately it's harmless imo. I can take it or leave it, but I wouldn't hit readers over the head with it.


But I flat out don't like the pick pocket/thief thing she has going on. It doesn't feel organic, it's like I'm reading a separate character. If you want her to have a shady career I would suggest linking her mechanical jobs to an organized crime outfit or something similar. Imo Becky as a thief doesn't add a nice layer of complexity, it just makes her convoluted. It would leave her as a prankster, mechanic, mech pilot, charming, clumsy, and a thief...


Again, let me restate that Becky is character that almost any detailed roleplay would be happy to accept. But a few tweaks, imo, could really make her first class.

Thank you very much, I really appreciate that. That turned out to be more detailed than you led on, haha. I should mention (maybe) that this RP's setting was a dystopian, rough New York with a desert like fauna and all. It's kind of a survival thing for her to steal. I figured it would suit the character to not have too much of an ethical issue with snatching something here and there. She's quite clearly not an angel but far from a bad person afterall.


The clumsy thing being filler is a good shout. I just really wanted to have some traits that make her a bit... I guess, vulnerable? Since it's a non-superhuman roleplay, I just couldn't think of many weaknesses that would balance out her talents when it comes to stealing stuff rather skillfully, so I figured this would come as a natural balancing thing. Valid point though.


Thank you for your criticism, I may look over her again and put that to use.

 

[Bone2pick]

Thank you very much, I really appreciate that. That turned out to be more detailed than you led on, haha. I should mention (maybe) that this RP's setting was a dystopian, rough New York with a desert like fauna and all. It's kind of a survival thing for her to steal. I figured it would suit the character to not have too much of an ethical issue with snatching something here and there. She's quite clearly not an angel but far from a bad person afterall.

And I see her being, even if she wouldn't admit it, too empathetic to steal. She might stoop to picking up work from more sinister folk, but an outright stealing habit feels too personal for her. It's getting her hands a little too dirty.


Anyway, thanks for taking the feedback so well.

 

[Sunbather]

And I see her being, even if she wouldn't admit it, too empathetic to steal. She might stoop to picking up work from more sinister folk, but an outright stealing habit feels too personal for her. It's getting her hands a little too dirty.
Anyway, thanks for taking the feedback so well.

Ah, alrighty! I didn't mean to argue with your critique by the way, I just wanted to provide context, so it might come across differently. But I fully respect that. And you know, maybe you're right. I might make some adjustments there, or at least tone it down to a less personal act. Maybe like, stealing an apple in a shop or something, instead of directly picking targets. Thanks again.

 

[BlueMars]

Just wanted to say I reaaallly like your character Air Elyiam! She has such a beautiful surrealistic/eerie feel to her! I also just love your coding *_* So pretty and neat.

 

[Sunbather]

Just wanted to say I reaaallly like your character Air Elyiam! She has such a beautiful surrealistic/eerie feel to her! I also just love your coding *_* So pretty and neat.

Thank you very much! That was what I was going for. I'm very glad you like her.


@Bone2pick Hey! I reworked Becky. I have taken your advise to heart, I think, and either deleted or reworked certain aspects of her. Also, her sheet is dramatically different. I'd love to hear your opinion on her now.

 

[Bone2pick]

I'll check it out later tonight.


 
I like the changes you made. She's still got a lot going on but the pieces you're using now aren't contradictory. That's always a good thing.


I recommend giving her character sheet a once over in order to tighten it up. You slip into some redundancies from time to time, and her sheet would read better without them. I'm not suggesting cutting the playful humor out of her sheet, just trim the unnecessary words and make it smoother.

 

[Sunbather]

D Y L A N | Ø S T I N E | Q U I N L A N

[name]






⊷ Dylan Østine Quinlan






[alias]






⊷ 2D, Quinn, Dahl.XX (screenname)






[gender]






⊷ Female ♀ (gender fluid)






[sexuality]






⊷ Demisexual






[residence]






⊷ 14th District






[height]






⊷ 5'5"

[weight]






⊷ 135lbs.






[hair]






⊷ Red; medium to long






[eyes]






⊷ Toxic Green






[age]






⊷ 21






[birthday]






⊷ 12th of Novemeber






[goals]






⊷ To end opression and the class war between the districts

[my journal entry]





I can't believe I'm actually using this dumb journal... Actually, screw it, this is a damn diary, no matter how much Cack insists it's not. I'm not sure if he's the teenage girl with wild running hormones, or if he takes me for one, but it's ridiculous either way. Only thing this crap is good for is to smack it over his head... (user sighs) Fine. Fine! Register this then: I saw these advertisements today. You know the one, uh... "Thalassa needs you, join the research." blahblahblah. All crap. The last batch of guys from below that signed up never returned. Except that one dude... He was so old. I hate that someone that age has to scramble on the streets. It's (word censored due to age settings) awful. Noone should die like that... And he's all... messed up in the head. Talks about some (word unknown), or whatever. I wanna help him, but his talking is too... dangerous. If the police ever picks up on him, they'll probably (word censored due to age settings) exile him to Lysa... I can't do this right now. Journal, entry recording off.

Dylan is a moody young woman, somewhere inbetween being a total hothead on one hand, and a completely mute, unsocial loner on the other. Neither of those extremes are really her natural personality, rather than the result of her inherent sense of justice and subsequent disgruntlement with the world. Ever since she was a teenager, Dylan could barely stand the way things were, felt treated unjustly and hated the upper class for not caring about her and her family, friends and neighbors. While she used to be a friendly, curious and lovable girl, she has been reduced to an almost mute, reclusive freak, that prefers solitude, upholds a "We take no prisoners" approach, and only speaks to others if she has to. Her morales have shifted heavily from her younger self. She's not an ice-cold, apathic killer by any means, but the desperation and hurting she had to suffer changed her greatly. Dylan also has greatly lost her once overwhelming ability to emphasize with those around her, a trait which people valued so greatly about her in long forgotten days, and also a trait she admires in others. If she absolutely has to, she won't hesitate to kill someone who threatens her missions or is otherwise "required" to be killed.


A bit of her old personality breaks through in certain situations, however. Such an example would be when she, for whatever reason, is forced to be with other people for an extended period of time. While Dylan is usually silent, she can become extremely abrasive and foul mouthed if someone annoys her. Not that either side, the mute or the loudmouth is very likable, but she certainly shows more humanity in moments where she is pissed off, opposed to her pessimistic, quiet self. Another way to get a sneak peek into the redhead's true colors, is when she is alone or phases out those around her, and especially whenever she gets her hands on a machine that captures her interest. A childlike glow in her eyes, a manic drive to work with the new tech... She starts to obsess over the task at hand, like a kid that just received a new toy, and gets unhealthily mad when someone prohibits her from going at it.


Dylan has a weak spot of children. Often seeing her younger sister in them, she can't help but soften up to them, to try and comfort them, and make them feel safe. The redhead will absolutely freak out if she witnesses any sort of cruelty towards children, and has indeed flat out smashed a crook's head in, after encountering him pummeling a lost little boy in the lower districts. There's few things that make her go as crazy as child abuse does.


Despite her harsh, tough to crack shell, it's clear that the girl has been through a lot. It often causes her to break down in a nervous mess, feeling hopeless and too weak to accomplish or change anything for the better. It's likely that this is where her preference for solitute stems from. Afterall, if you are alone, you can't be observed in your weak stages. Dylan has a habit of scolding herself for crying or otherwise being weak. She considers herself required to be a strong person, and often insults herself over failure, sometimes even punishing herself through physical training until her body starts aching. Unfortunately, even this strict behavior hasn't really helped her in developing any upper body strength. Her physical weakness is often the root of her mouthing off against friends or clients, resulting in her throwing punches at the respective person. Which, of course, don't really do anything.


Dylan likes electronic music, especially those that aren't high tempo, but rather droning or ambiance. The only thing in her apartment that resembles any sort of personality is a large sound system and a boxing sack. The former, she often turns on to overtone her crying, cursing or relentless beating away at the latter. It gives her a sense of relief, to hear somber, more sadder sounds, as they almost feel relatable to her. Usually, however, she just sits in silence and slaves away, chained to her computers, trying to figure out how to breach into systems, how to get informations and credits.

Dylan Østine Quinlan was born in the 47th district, barely but noticably above the absolute bottom tier population. Her parents ran a little shop in the 51st district, which had a focus on technical protection devices, such as cameras, laser barriers and things of that nature. They didn't have too much and were most certainly connected to the poor part of Thalassa. Nevertheless, they had customers come in from as far as the 74th district, which was more than enough for their living conditions. Overall, they were what you'd call the cream of the lower class. And, despite it all, happy. Dylan grew up with loving parents, who taught her morals and proper social behavior. She did well in school, picking up things quickly and with great enthusiasm. Sadly, the lower districts' school systems weren't quite as helpful, enabling and providing as those in the richer stories, which halted her education a bit, but still... the few teachers who worked with their hearts and souls, and really wanted their students to succeed, they all commended the redhead's work ethic and natural curiosity. A trait that helped her tremendously. Nothing was ever to remain a secret from her. The girl was starving for information, for finding out how things worked and what was going on. Sometimes, teachers and her parents alike were annoyed by the girl's energetic behavior, but mostly, it was just endearing.


The years went by without any major crisis, and as Østine turned 13, the Quinlans welcomed another child into the world - a healthy little girl. Unlike a lot of older siblings, Dylan was immediately infatuated with her new sister, caring for her sweetly and with great love. Constantly, she tried to teach the youngest Quinlan things, helped her walking and played with her whenever she could. Another four years went by rather peacefully. Business had reduced a tiny bit, but it was still more than enough to sustain everyone. Additionally, Dylan began to put her talents to use, and worked a little bit on the side, supporting herself to the best of her ability. Growing up with tech-savvy parents and the omnipresent tools to hone her skills, she was absurdly skilled with computers and coding, especially when it came to security systems and gadgets. In fact, she even build a bit of a reputation in the surrounding districts, often getting visits by people who sought help. The downside of her "notoriety" was that the less civilized gangs and scrappers of the lower levels started to pay attention to her. Be it because they were disapproving of her working for the higher living people, because they were envious of her income or because they flat out felt inedequate in comparison to her skills - It didn't matter. Unpleasant harrassment was a weekly occurence for her. Her father eventually was informed of this and, enraged, he talked to his daughter and organized for her to receive a bit of self-defense training. Everyone knew the authorities wouldn't be all that watchful in the bottom layers, so people had to take care of themselves. And soon, the girl could defend herself from the rowdies that were stalking her. While she was showing signs of becoming a great fighter, she could certainly dodge and use people's momentum against them, which is exactly what she started doing. The harrassing stopped, bar the occassional punk trying to get funky. No one wanted to utilize weapons for such irrelevant conflicts, the risk was just too high. And so, after a monthr or two, Dylan lived a happier life again.


However, the harmonic life was soon to end regardless. Over the last few years, the A.I. debacle had escalated. A.I.s and their supporters had become more and more vocal, and even some of the highest ranking politicans spoke out in favor of the artificial minds. Avoiding social unrest, it was decided that A.I.s were to receive equal rights, with the exception of certain weapons. The decision was almost entirely well received, but the Quinlan's got the proverbial shaft, as A.I.s were quickly the dominant force in everything related to security and home protection, slowly but surely driving the family out of business. In fact, amongst the owners of businesses that suffered from the change in rights, a widely spread theory said that the decision was only made because the rich and wealthy wanted cheap, easily sustainable workforces for their precious networks. Of course, this may be influenced by their unfortunate fate, but the rumor did have some merrit. Be that as it may, Dylan's life got dire. It was nothing compared to the future months though.


The fateful day came. Electronics had become useless for a few scary moments througout almost all of Thalassa. A novelty occurence, and a threatening one at that. The incident caused many vandals to entirely abandon their restrictions. Motivated by the possible end of the world, an idea that was only aided by the fact that the goverment let their population in the dark about the full extent of the event, stores were raided, people were murdered, assaulted and abused. Thalassa's bottom half went into a purge-like state. Luckily, Dylan was out shopping with her little sister in the 62nd district. She had worked for a shop owner before, allowing her to buy her sibling much better clothes, than those that were avaible around her home. Up here, the panic ensued in a more traditional way. While crowds ran rampant and freaked out, violence wasn't really a problem and the authority of the distrct kept the situation under control... After a while. Before that, however, the wild crowds caused the two Quinlan girls to get seperated. Frantically, Dylan searched for her sister, pushing and shoving her way through the mindlessly panicking sea of people, but to no avail. She needed to get back to her parents. They had access to several securty cameras, her own computer would help... it would be alright. She would find her sister. She had to.


The follwing Tear™ ride was the most nerve-wrecking one she ever had to endure, counting the seconds before the plattform finally reached the level her home was located in. Sprinting through the alleys, the redheaded girl barely registered the burning facades and suspiciously empty streets around her. Finally, her home! Finally, she'd... She stopped. And she stopped breathing too, for what seemed like an eternity. Her home, it was up in flames, the walls sullied and the windows smashed. The girl broke down. It was just too much. And yet, fate wasn't quite done with her today, as one of the countless raiders drove by on a motorcycle-like vehicle. The kneeling girl was hit, the machine ran over the redhead's calf, leaving her right leg severly injured.


The following weeks were a blur. Trauma, injury and despair had caused Dylan to forget and surpress most of what happened. All she knew was, that she was now alone. Her parents were dead, her sister was god knows where. To top it all off, her right leg had to be taken off below the knee. A complete lack of hope laid over the young woman, only sharing its vessel with an intense anger and a thirst for revenge. Revenge on the raiders, revenge on whoever or whatever caused the panic, and revenge on the rich, for not protecting the poverty stricken districts. It was this very anger that slowly pushed Dylan to try again, to make plans. She shelled out every last bit of credit she owned to her name, made from all the jobs she had over the last three years, sold everything her home and her parent's shop offered, and got a high quality prosthetic. The piece of tech was quite new and untested, but it was a risk the girl was willing to take. Lots of data storage, a high quality alloy, allowing it to serve as a physical weapon, as well as some handy other tools would prove to make the replacement better than the real thing. Sure, she had gotten some dumb cyborg jokes, but... given how much she loved computers and other machines, she didn't actually mind the thought at all. Since then, the tech specialist has dropped into the low districts, withdrawing herself from authority more and more, and has started to build a tiny network of contacts. Freedom fighters, desperate businessmen of the upper-middle class in need for a human hacker (as A.I.s are virtually flawless, humans usually are prefered for "off the record" jobs like this) and some who are simply fed up with the way things are.


It's a dangerous lifestyle, of course. Constantly on the lookout for surveillance, no normal social life... But Dylan wants to change the world. Or at last so she says. The thirst for revenge is still unsatisfied and burns in her chest. It remains to be seen whether she can let it rest, and allows herself to focus on greater things, or if she'll go down the dark path of hatred. She is currently gathering information and building more contacts under the pseudonym Dahl.XX.

​

[biggest fear]






⊷ That her sister is dead






[fondest memory]






⊷ Family vacation through the 118th district.






[likes]






✓ computers





✓ empathy





✓ justice





✓ electronic music





✓ kick boxing





✓ lemonade





✓ children

[strengths]






⊷ Extremely talented with any sort of tech.





⊷ Can hack, disable and figure out the most complex codes and security systems





⊷ Good at self-defense (though generally not too good at offense)





⊷ Very athletic, nimble and agile






[weaknesses]






⊷ Her leg prosthetic can technically be exploited and used against her





⊷ Aside from kicks, she's physically weak





⊷ Emotionally somewhat unstable, suffers from it






[dislikes]






✗ the upper districts





✗ most people





✗ being wrong (or proven wrong)





✗ unnecessary violence (her own included)





✗ also that she can't help but be violent often times





✗ opening up and being vulnerable

Spoiler

D Y L A N | Ø S T I N E | Q U I N L A N

[img=http://i.imgur.com/Bj4MJIh.png]XXX[img=http://i.imgur.com/MWWW339.png]

[img=http://i.imgur.com/YitjuhW.png]

[name]
⊷ Dylan Østine Quinlan
[alias]
⊷ 2D, Quinn, Dahl.XX (screenname)
[gender]
⊷ Female ♀ (gender fluid)
[sexuality]
⊷ Demisexual
[residence]
⊷ 14th District
[height]
⊷ 5'5"
​

[weight]
⊷ 135lbs.
[hair]
⊷ Red; medium to long
[eyes]
⊷ Toxic Green
[age]
⊷ 21
[birthday]
⊷ 12th of Novemeber
[goals]
⊷ To end opression and the class war between the districts

[my journal entry]
I can't believe I'm actually using this dumb journal... Actually, screw it, this is a damn diary, no matter how much Cack insists it's not. I'm not sure if he's the teenage girl with wild running hormones, or if he takes me for one, but it's ridiculous either way. Only thing this crap is good for is to smack it over his head... (user sighs) Fine. Fine! Register this then: I saw these advertisements today. You know the one, uh... "Thalassa needs you, join the research." blahblahblah. All crap. The last batch of guys from below that signed up never returned. Except that one dude... He was so old. I hate that someone that age has to scramble on the streets. It's (word censored due to age settings) awful. Noone should die like that... And he's all... messed up in the head. Talks about some (word unknown), or whatever. I wanna help him, but his talking is too... dangerous. If the police ever picks up on him, they'll probably (word censored due to age settings) exile him to Lysa... I can't do this right now. Journal, entry recording off.

[img=https://www.rpnation.com/proxy.php?image=http://i.imgur.com/RXAOU4x.gif&hash=09aa42b640a8a5d35b1b7a917f60f303]

Dylan is a moody young woman, somewhere inbetween being a total hothead on one hand, and a completely mute, unsocial loner on the other. Neither of those extremes are really her natural personality, rather than the result of her inherent sense of justice and subsequent disgruntlement with the world. Ever since she was a teenager, Dylan could barely stand the way things were, felt treated unjustly and hated the upper class for not caring about her and her family, friends and neighbors. While she used to be a friendly, curious and lovable girl, she has been reduced to an almost mute, reclusive freak, that prefers solitude, upholds a "We take no prisoners" approach, and only speaks to others if she has to. Her morales have shifted heavily from her younger self. She's not an ice-cold, apathic killer by any means, but the desperation and hurting she had to suffer changed her greatly. Dylan also has greatly lost her once overwhelming ability to emphasize with those around her, a trait which people valued so greatly about her in long forgotten days, and also a trait she admires in others. If she absolutely has to, she won't hesitate to kill someone who threatens her missions or is otherwise "required" to be killed.

A bit of her old personality breaks through in certain situations, however. Such an example would be when she, for whatever reason, is forced to be with other people for an extended period of time. While Dylan is usually silent, she can become extremely abrasive and foul mouthed if someone annoys her. Not that either side, the mute or the loudmouth is very likable, but she certainly shows more humanity in moments where she is pissed off, opposed to her pessimistic, quiet self. Another way to get a sneak peek into the redhead's true colors, is when she is alone or phases out those around her, and especially whenever she gets her hands on a machine that captures her interest. A childlike glow in her eyes, a manic drive to work with the new tech... She starts to obsess over the task at hand, like a kid that just received a new toy, and gets unhealthily mad when someone prohibits her from going at it.

Dylan has a weak spot of children. Often seeing her younger sister in them, she can't help but soften up to them, to try and comfort them, and make them feel safe. The redhead will absolutely freak out if she witnesses any sort of cruelty towards children, and has indeed flat out smashed a crook's head in, after encountering him pummeling a lost little boy in the lower districts. There's few things that make her go as crazy as child abuse does.

Despite her harsh, tough to crack shell, it's clear that the girl has been through a lot. It often causes her to break down in a nervous mess, feeling hopeless and too weak to accomplish or change anything for the better. It's likely that this is where her preference for solitute stems from. Afterall, if you are alone, you can't be observed in your weak stages. Dylan has a habit of scolding herself for crying or otherwise being weak. She considers herself required to be a strong person, and often insults herself over failure, sometimes even punishing herself through physical training until her body starts aching. Unfortunately, even this strict behavior hasn't really helped her in developing any upper body strength. Her physical weakness is often the root of her mouthing off against friends or clients, resulting in her throwing punches at the respective person. Which, of course, don't really do anything.

Dylan likes electronic music, especially those that aren't high tempo, but rather droning or ambiance. The only thing in her apartment that resembles any sort of personality is a large sound system and a boxing sack. The former, she often turns on to overtone her crying, cursing or relentless beating away at the latter. It gives her a sense of relief, to hear somber, more sadder sounds, as they almost feel relatable to her. Usually, however, she just sits in silence and slaves away, chained to her computers, trying to figure out how to breach into systems, how to get informations and credits.

[img=https://www.rpnation.com/proxy.php?image=http://i.imgur.com/XRC0eOO.gif&hash=6b2a40c0af43ebab536802e4e860864c]

Dylan Østine Quinlan was born in the 47th district, barely but noticably above the absolute bottom tier population. Her parents ran a little shop in the 51st district, which had a focus on technical protection devices, such as cameras, laser barriers and things of that nature. They didn't have too much and were most certainly connected to the poor part of Thalassa. Nevertheless, they had customers come in from as far as the 74th district, which was more than enough for their living conditions. Overall, they were what you'd call the cream of the lower class. And, despite it all, happy. Dylan grew up with loving parents, who taught her morals and proper social behavior. She did well in school, picking up things quickly and with great enthusiasm. Sadly, the lower districts' school systems weren't quite as helpful, enabling and providing as those in the richer stories, which halted her education a bit, but still... the few teachers who worked with their hearts and souls, and really wanted their students to succeed, they all commended the redhead's work ethic and natural curiosity. A trait that helped her tremendously. Nothing was ever to remain a secret from her. The girl was starving for information, for finding out how things worked and what was going on. Sometimes, teachers and her parents alike were annoyed by the girl's energetic behavior, but mostly, it was just endearing.

The years went by without any major crisis, and as Østine turned 13, the Quinlans welcomed another child into the world - a healthy little girl. Unlike a lot of older siblings, Dylan was immediately infatuated with her new sister, caring for her sweetly and with great love. Constantly, she tried to teach the youngest Quinlan things, helped her walking and played with her whenever she could. Another four years went by rather peacefully. Business had reduced a tiny bit, but it was still more than enough to sustain everyone. Additionally, Dylan began to put her talents to use, and worked a little bit on the side, supporting herself to the best of her ability. Growing up with tech-savvy parents and the omnipresent tools to hone her skills, she was absurdly skilled with computers and coding, especially when it came to security systems and gadgets. In fact, she even build a bit of a reputation in the surrounding districts, often getting visits by people who sought help. The downside of her "notoriety" was that the less civilized gangs and scrappers of the lower levels started to pay attention to her. Be it because they were disapproving of her working for the higher living people, because they were envious of her income or because they flat out felt inedequate in comparison to her skills - It didn't matter. Unpleasant harrassment was a weekly occurence for her. Her father eventually was informed of this and, enraged, he talked to his daughter and organized for her to receive a bit of self-defense training. Everyone knew the authorities wouldn't be all that watchful in the bottom layers, so people had to take care of themselves. And soon, the girl could defend herself from the rowdies that were stalking her. While she was showing signs of becoming a great fighter, she could certainly dodge and use people's momentum against them, which is exactly what she started doing. The harrassing stopped, bar the occassional punk trying to get funky. No one wanted to utilize weapons for such irrelevant conflicts, the risk was just too high. And so, after a monthr or two, Dylan lived a happier life again.

However, the harmonic life was soon to end regardless. Over the last few years, the A.I. debacle had escalated. A.I.s and their supporters had become more and more vocal, and even some of the highest ranking politicans spoke out in favor of the artificial minds. Avoiding social unrest, it was decided that A.I.s were to receive equal rights, with the exception of certain weapons. The decision was almost entirely well received, but the Quinlan's got the proverbial shaft, as A.I.s were quickly the dominant force in everything related to security and home protection, slowly but surely driving the family out of business. In fact, amongst the owners of businesses that suffered from the change in rights, a widely spread theory said that the decision was only made because the rich and wealthy wanted cheap, easily sustainable workforces for their precious networks. Of course, this may be influenced by their unfortunate fate, but the rumor did have some merrit. Be that as it may, Dylan's life got dire. It was nothing compared to the future months though.

The fateful day came. Electronics had become useless for a few scary moments througout almost all of Thalassa. A novelty occurence, and a threatening one at that. The incident caused many vandals to entirely abandon their restrictions. Motivated by the possible end of the world, an idea that was only aided by the fact that the goverment let their population in the dark about the full extent of the event, stores were raided, people were murdered, assaulted and abused. Thalassa's bottom half went into a purge-like state. Luckily, Dylan was out shopping with her little sister in the 62nd district. She had worked for a shop owner before, allowing her to buy her sibling much better clothes, than those that were avaible around her home. Up here, the panic ensued in a more traditional way. While crowds ran rampant and freaked out, violence wasn't really a problem and the authority of the distrct kept the situation under control... After a while. Before that, however, the wild crowds caused the two Quinlan girls to get seperated. Frantically, Dylan searched for her sister, pushing and shoving her way through the mindlessly panicking sea of people, but to no avail. She needed to get back to her parents. They had access to several securty cameras, her own computer would help... it would be alright. She would find her sister. She had to.

The follwing Tear™ ride was the most nerve-wrecking one she ever had to endure, counting the seconds before the plattform finally reached the level her home was located in. Sprinting through the alleys, the redheaded girl barely registered the burning facades and suspiciously empty streets around her. Finally, her home! Finally, she'd... She stopped. And she stopped breathing too, for what seemed like an eternity. Her home, it was up in flames, the walls sullied and the windows smashed. The girl broke down. It was just too much. And yet, fate wasn't quite done with her today, as one of the countless raiders drove by on a motorcycle-like vehicle. The kneeling girl was hit, the machine ran over the redhead's calf, leaving her right leg severly injured.

The following weeks were a blur. Trauma, injury and despair had caused Dylan to forget and surpress most of what happened. All she knew was, that she was now alone. Her parents were dead, her sister was god knows where. To top it all off, her right leg had to be taken off below the knee. A complete lack of hope laid over the young woman, only sharing its vessel with an intense anger and a thirst for revenge. Revenge on the raiders, revenge on whoever or whatever caused the panic, and revenge on the rich, for not protecting the poverty stricken districts. It was this very anger that slowly pushed Dylan to try again, to make plans. She shelled out every last bit of credit she owned to her name, made from all the jobs she had over the last three years, sold everything her home and her parent's shop offered, and got a high quality prosthetic. The piece of tech was quite new and untested, but it was a risk the girl was willing to take. Lots of data storage, a high quality alloy, allowing it to serve as a physical weapon, as well as some handy other tools would prove to make the replacement better than the real thing. Sure, she had gotten some dumb cyborg jokes, but... given how much she loved computers and other machines, she didn't actually mind the thought at all. Since then, the tech specialist has dropped into the low districts, withdrawing herself from authority more and more, and has started to build a tiny network of contacts. Freedom fighters, desperate businessmen of the upper-middle class in need for a human hacker (as A.I.s are virtually flawless, humans usually are prefered for "off the record" jobs like this) and some who are simply fed up with the way things are.

It's a dangerous lifestyle, of course. Constantly on the lookout for surveillance, no normal social life... But Dylan wants to change the world. Or at last so she says. The thirst for revenge is still unsatisfied and burns in her chest. It remains to be seen whether she can let it rest, and allows herself to focus on greater things, or if she'll go down the dark path of hatred. She is currently gathering information and building more contacts under the pseudonym Dahl.XX.

unite by burial

[img=http://i.imgur.com/99bElEu.png] [img=http://i.imgur.com/KyYbi2m.png] [img=http://i.imgur.com/DhZUHb6.png]

​

[biggest fear]
⊷ That her sister is dead
[fondest memory]
⊷ Family vacation through the 118th district.
[likes]
✓ computers
✓ empathy
✓ justice
✓ electronic music
✓ kick boxing
✓ lemonade
✓ children
​

[strengths]
⊷ Extremely talented with any sort of tech.
⊷ Can hack, disable and figure out the most complex codes and security systems
⊷ Good at self-defense (though generally not too good at offense)
⊷ Very athletic, nimble and agile
[weaknesses]
⊷ Her leg prosthetic can technically be exploited and used against her
⊷ Aside from kicks, she's physically weak
⊷ Emotionally somewhat unstable, suffers from it
[dislikes]
✗ the upper districts
✗ most people
✗ being wrong (or proven wrong)
✗ unnecessary violence (her own included)
✗ also that she can't help but be violent often times
✗ opening up and being vulnerable

[/Code]

 

[Cavil]

I really like your coding on Caspar's character sheet.

 

[Sunbather]

I really like your coding on Caspar's character sheet.

Thank you!

 

[Cavil]

Would you mind if I borrowed the code for a character sheet if I credited you?

 

[Sunbather]

Would you mind if I borrowed the code for a character sheet if I credited you?

I would mind, sorry. Not trying to be mean, I just want this to be exclusive for an RP I'm making.

 

[Cavil]

I would mind, sorry. Not trying to be mean, I just want this to be exclusive for an RP I'm making.

Alright. sure. No problem.

 

[Sunbather]

PERSONALITY DATABASE PROFILE

​

​

​

Current Appearance (Recent)

​

Older Frontal Photo

​

Surname:


Baardwjik


Given Name:


Talia


Nationality:


Dutch-American


Age:


23


Gender:


Female


Known Genetic Mutation:


Due to cellular mutation, the subject appears to have partial control over density and temperature of her atomic pattern, resulting in the ability to dissolve into lava-esque liquids with equally scorching attributes, as well as effectively utilize her DNA to set herself on fire without harm. Unintentional outbursts are confirmed, caution is advised.


Known Connections:


Father / Michel Baardwjik / Deceased


Mother / Unknown / Presumed alive


Cousin / Aries Almohnt / Alive

Behavioral Analysis:


Personality Profile


Subject is highly aggressive with appropiately easily triggered temperament. Increased defensive and threatening behavior can be observed since detainment has started. Had a recorded history of violent outbursts before, presumably enhanced because of the influence of substance abuse. Shows withdrawal symptoms, ranging from depressive and frantic behavior to submissively begging.


The subject can be categorized as unsociable. Appears to have used human interact mostly for benefit ie. aquiring and/or selling various drugs. Evaluation has shown a generally pessmistic personality with misanthropic tendencies. Possibly suicidal. Has not given much indication of wishing to reenter society since being captured, but showed heavy discomfort about being detained despite above average treatment. After observation, the staff has agreed that the subject appears to be inclined to reject authority out of principle.


Repeatedly asked for her clothes as well as music, which appear to have either sentimental value and/or simple fondness. Was granted faint music twice, both times appeared to have improved the subjects mood noticably. It is suggested to further look into this as the subject has extreme trouble sleeping and has nightly outbursts, affecting her stability.


Notable Features:


Hairdo is distinct; majority of subject's hair is dyed green and worn in dreadlocks. Subject has heavily tattood upper body and left arm.

Spoiler

Background Check




Basic Background:


Subject is the daughter of two immigrants who legally settled in Georgia 34 years ago. Early life appears to be stable and uneventful from the avaible information, but the subject's father had a car accident when the subject was 13 and died shortly after in intensive care. Family's finances appears to have taken a strong hit and the subject's home appears to have gotten repossesed as well. Academic records show average grades, which suggest neither noticably good nor poor intellectual and cognitive abilities rather than a struggle with social norms. Was arrested twice before the age of 18 and has spent time in a juvenile prison for smoking cannabis.


The subject's family was not able to provide a college education nor were they qualified for loans. It appears that the subject left home right after turning finishing high school and has been on and off employed as well as homeless. It is possible that there was some sort of fallout with the subject's mother. Last status reports suggest the subject worked in a hair salon and lived with a romantic partner. Was arressted again on the 12th of April for possession in combination with a DUI. As a known delinquent, she received a rather harsh bail, which was paid off by a yet unknown male. Has been on suicide watch until four months ago. Appears to have had multiple partners. Reports suggest that the subject is adulterous rather than polyamorous.


We were able to locate a minor report about the subjects placement in a judo tournament when she was 14, hinting at some sort of academic promise, but appears to have eventually stopped persuing the sport. Level of proficency unknown.


WARNINGS:


Caution: Due to the nature of her mutation the subject is being kept under chemical control to surpress destruction of her holding area. Injections are given every 12 hours. Emergency anesthesia guns are present in a radius of 50 meters all around the subject's cell. It is heavily encouraged not to approach the subject alone and that one staff members is in possession of the aforementioned guns at all times.

 

[Sunbather]

Candy

• Appearance
• General
• Background
• Resume

• 
  
  
  
  

  no slide

  no slide

  
  
  
  
  
  
  Ava is, even for her age, a little on the short, slim end. Comebine that with otherwise average proportions and not a single stereotypical attribute usually associated with her ethnic background, Ava appears to be just another kid living in New Florida. That impression only lasts for so long, however, and fades even quicker should one catch a glimpse of Ava's bare skin, which is covered with little scars, bruises and even little cuts towards the wrists, littered all across her fragile body. Stemming from times of abuse, Ava more or less effectively has blocked out any and all memories of the events in the past, and now simply shrugs of her violated physique, especially whenever she does not feel any pain and there's no reason to acknowledge anything beyond medical reasons.
  
  
  Ava dresses in relatively modest outfits, most of which are either bought second hand or retrieved from donation boxes, with the exception of what she has managed to scavenge from her father's apartment, though very few items out of those still fit her. Stylistically, the girl isn't overly picky, though she seemed to have a knack for 'vintage' clothes. Possibly formed out of necessity, it's a lucky coincidence either way, as most of her clothes would fall into exactly that category. Jeans skirts, tights, sweaters and woolen blouses are rather common, as are simple shirts. Her favorite attire would consist of a worn-looking denim skirt, black tights underneath and a blue, button up shirt several sizes too big for her. Given her financial situation, it's not particularly surprising that accessoires and jewlery isn't a very common addition in her wardrobe, but Ava possesses some chokers which she wears regularly - A generally common piece on those employeed in the brothels.
  
  
  While her most commonly seen hairstyle is a plain bob cut that she mostly sports out of convinience - as it literally requires nothing more than a few straight cuts with a common scissor - and monetary reasons, she occassionally sports dread locks whenever her hair has grown out enough and she gets around seeing Delilah, an employee of the Le Petite Mort brothel, who has taken the girl under her wing and knows how to braid hair properly.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  NAME:
  
  
  Ava "Candy" Saadat
  
  
  STATUS:
  
  
  Redlight District-affiliated
  
  
  

  
  
  
  CLASS:
  
  
  Lower
  
  
  OCCUPATION:
  
  
  Spy / Thug for the "La petite mort" brothel. Currently assigned to a task involving the warehouse.
  
  
  

  
  
  
  AGE:
  
  
  Thirteen
  
  
  GENDER:
  
  
  Female

  
  
  
  

  no slide

  no slide

  no slide

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  STRENGTHS:
  
  
  + Brave - Ava is near fearless, and this counts double when working a job. She has absolutely no hesitation to get involved in dangerous situations such as shoot outs or drug deals and will be quick to carry a gun herself - No questions asked.
  
  
  + Shameless - To tell if someone is lying, just have them look into your eyes as they speak. A popular saying and not uneffective. It is, however, with Ava. There isn't a thing for her to say or do that will make her appear as if she was putting on an act and feelings of embarassment are completely non-existent when Ava is on the job. Deep down, shame is a daily companion for her, but Ava is an expert at looking her feelings up and throwing away the key.
  
  
  + Efficent - Ava is not in it 'cause she's good at it, for greed or other motivation rather than that she simply has to. Accordingly, there aren't many games to be played when the girl is on a job. Remember, like, every scene with Bond villains ever? Big speeches and an inflatable ego? Yeah, this is not one of those. Ava has no ego and no sense of having to prove herself - This ends when it can.
  
  
  

  
  
  
  FAULTS:
  
  
  - Distrustful - It probably doesn't come as a surprise to those who know her story, but Ava essentially does not trust a single soul walking the planet as of today. Those employed in the Le Petite Mort brothel who have and continue to protect her are enjoying some sort of appreciation and trust, but even that is a shakey relationship at best.
  
  
  - Self-loathing - "To attack the mind is a social disorder" Well, in this case, it far extends social issues and tore its ugly claws into not only mind but flesh. Ava's thoughts are about as disturbed as her body is violated, and as such a deeply rooted sense of being sullied has set its tent inside her head. Because of this, Ava has fits of absolute self-hatred.
  
  
  - Indecisive - While she functions with almost mechanical precision when assigned a task, initiating actions on her accord is a whole different ballgame, representing a great struggle in her life. Ava's insecure and quick to feel stressed out when having to make a decision.
  
  
  

  
  
  
  QUIRKS/HABITS:
  
  
  - Ava has an incredibly crude, sometimes even flat-out random sense of humor, cackling at morbid events, as well as completely arbitrary things, occassionally even giggling when scared. Given that she never ditched the habit despite negative repurcussions, it seems likely that it's more of a compulsive quirk.
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  She has seen things nobody should see, let alone a child. Let's hope it doesn't break her. Delilah

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  THEME
  
  ​

  
  
  
  [media]
  
  
  
  
  
  [/media]

  
  Ava's memory is a tricky beast to say the very least. When asked about her past, one will usually be greeted by a bright (albeit empty) smile and a chipper voice explaining "Nothing specialy, really." Though "special" doesn't even begin to cover it. Turning the clocks back just three years reveals that her staple answer is not entirely unfounded. Truely, Ava's past feels a little hazy to her, as only fragments of what happened prior to her tenth birthday seem to have stuck with her. Fragments such her father and the day they took him. Her life before feels blurry, but bright. Warm. As if she was alive - Truely alive. With laughter, passion, worry and success, like any ordinary person. The time before life turned into a shade so dark no night has matched it.
  
  
  Ava's father, Jacob, was a Narc and a criminal. Not just out of association of his refusal to stay awake, but a thief. Mind you, still a good hearted man who merely fell on hard times and attempted to provide for his child, but a criminal. A fact he thouroughly hated himself, being a firm believer of the Jewish faith. There's usually plenty of ways to sneak out of the authorities's glare under normal circumstances, but a Narc is a drastically different matter. It came as it had to - Jacob got arrested, leaving Ava, who managed to escape the authorities, to fend for herself.
  
  
  
  
  

  

  
  
  
  The last two and a half years of Ava's life are, unfortunately, not as blurry as her childhood prior to that, instead haunting her every night in crystal clear fashion. Being essentially (and possibly literally) an orphan is tough. Being an orphan without any help, living out on the streets is even tougher. The moral decay of New Miami running rampant, it didn't take long for the worst of the worst to notice and inevitably swoop up the helpless girl. What followed escapes words, too cruel for descriptions of equal weight to exist. What can be said is that the act of forcing an innocent girl into a streetwalker for those without a heart, robbed her of her humanity, in a way. The quite literal hell would continue for a few months, until a veteran of the redlight destrict, a man called Demitri, came across the despicable group responsible for Ava's abuse.
  
  
  Some might believe that sex work is filled with immorale and dirty people, but Demitri, for all the flaws of this stained environment, had honor and humanity. He made it clear that he'd take the girl from them, away from the torture. Scum like Ava's captors never enjoy a good reputation, even in a shady world like the redlight district, and as such weren't in a position to refuse. Dimitri took Ava to the Le Petite Mort, a brothel highly active in all kinds of crimes, but most certainly not child prostitution. Here, Ava found shelter. Protection. A home. While Demitri and Delilah, the quasi leaders of the establishment, tried to be optimistic, it didn't look too good. Ava ate little, if at all, quietely sobbed, whimpered whenever she layed down and closed to eyes for a few moments and winced at just about any motion, no matter the intentions.
  
  
  After almost a year of this awful display, Ava slowly began to realize as well as believe that those people were not like the ones that had forced her into hell. That they were looking out for her. And while little warmth was present in the little girl, a change in her attitude developed all the same. Ava become comparetively comfortable around Delilah, Demitri and the rest of the brothel, seeing them as allies. Their relationship continued to improve slowly, while the prostitutes ensured that the girl remained shielded from their business, so as to not traumatize her any further. It'd take months, but eventually Ava would accidentally witness snippets of the brothel's side businesses, prompting the now teenager to ask questions and, ultimately, request to get involved. Most everyone, but especially Demitri refused vehemently, but Ava would never let up, instead come asking again and again.
  
  
  Eventually, reluctantly, and with a plethora of safety measures, they allowed Ava to be present during handovers and other deals, teaching her how to defend herself with a variety of tools. She was always a smart girl, picking up things quickly, and this was no exception. Ava would proof to be a skillful little asset, and has since worked as a form of backup, free from suspicion. Nobody suspects a child, right? Ava, known by all but a select few ones by the name she has received when they forced her into the redlight district - Candy, began to roam the redlight restriction with grim knowledge that she has nothig to lose but all to conquer, making her a surprisingly dangerous person to mess with. Outside of her visits with a single, very specific person, that is. The freelancer escort known as Red. Ava would often hear her name be dropped around the Le Petite Mort. Somehow fate let their paths cross as Ava was on just another routine tout, and she quickly became Ava's lone anchor, understanding her pain, and went on to represent a distantly recognizable piece of humanity amongst the billowing darkness inside of the young girl's head.
  
  
  In recent weeks, Ava has taken up work inside the warehouse on Demitri's request, who managed to organize a fake ID for her in order to gain entrance. While she doesn't know his reasons, Ava never has doubted the man's instruction. Even if it seemed odd to her, she'd be too occupied with other problems such as the fact she can't stay awake anymore and the dreams that along her involuntary sleep. Being used to nightmarish hallucinations they never scared her in the traditional way, though she can't quite categorize the feeling. What truely occupies her mind the mos, however, is the occurance of a mysterious note. Ava beliefs that, after all these year, her father has come to get her, to rescue her. She keeps the note close at all times, never talking about it with anyone, hoping for her dad to finally come. Come for her...
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  
  Roleplaying Resume
  
  
  Detailed - ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
  
  
  (Also kind of all of Elle's latest group RPs!
  
  
  

 

[Sunbather]

[media]



[/media]

​

Name:


???????? (Mortgas, Devourer of Worlds)


Age:


318 years


Gender:


Female


Height:


837cm


Weight:


362kg


Species:

Appearance:


Mortgas is a large creature with a dark body of humanoid shape. A strawy growth similar to hair reaches down to her midsection and is of ashen color. Her head sports only a mouth as a clearly distinguishable feature, though it appears her face is covered by a sort of ceremonial item. A single, horn-like growth seems to be veiled by it.


Her upper-body is of humanoid and clearly mammalian shape though lacks clearly defined secondary sex characteristics. She has two long, multi-jointed legs, though it appears that Mortgas is able to grow bulging, fleshy growths, adopting serpentine movement with the widened lower-half of her body, while the upper-half remains upright. The serpentine form of hers differs from her body beyond mere shape. The bulbous flesh appears to be littered with crude faces, some of which audibly ache.

Motivation:


Mortgas possesses an unquenchable drive to consume life, believing that the universe is one gargantuan source of energy, which she intends to accumulate all for herself. Though her species is rare due to its propagation habits, all Behelits seem to share a this somewhat self-destructive goal of effectively emptying the universe of existence itself.


Desires(conceptual):


Differing to most Behelits known to other species, Mortgas differs from the norm in that her sentience seems somewhat controlled and resembles sapience. She expresses interest in concepts and interacts with species fit to withstand her presence.


Greatest Fear:


Animalistic self-preservation indicates that a premature end to her quest of consumption is her worst and possibly only fear.


Personal limitations (internal):


Comprehension of lifeforms or otherwise sentient and/or autonomous energy being unwilling to integrate is severly limited. Expanding perceptual horizon is an active endeavour.


Personal beliefs:


Morality is a concept graspable but irrelevant to Mortgas' species, thus desire and physiologic coding are exclusive in guiding her.

Occupation:

No formal occupation.


Fame:


Primary entity of the Behelit's mass congregation.


Weapon:


Due to her control over bodily mutation, her mass serves as an unpredictable and effective weapon. Though her consumption of energy is not accomplished in the traditional sense of the word "devouring", she seems to have taken a personal liking to biting and tearing apart targets through brute strengths. A sort of half-biological, half-singularity based ability presents her strongest offensive tool and is a rightfully feared technique. She can pull, distort and absord beings with this technique.


Armour:


Forced regrow and thick skin serves as sole defensive mechanisms. Wounds may be dealt plentiful, though it is difficult to pinpoint how long her ability to manipulate her own body trumps damage dealt.


Fighting Style:


Mortgas has no refined techniques but rather just acts upon instinct and need.


Skills:


- Resistance to extraterrestrial conditions


- Controlled Singularity Force


- Strength

Personality:

​

Mortgas possesses all traits inherently ingrained in Behelitian culture, and thus has no concept of morale. Outsiders might describe her and her people as nihilistic or unhinged, and most sapient species' concepts would correctly apply these terms, though Mortgas exists on a level that has little room for such conscious decisions and epiphanies.


Mortgas is unusually curious in comparison to others of her kind, and is, in that regard, considerably more restrained and willing to listen to reason. She is a strong personality, which is a given due to her sheer state of existence (see Background below) and the fact that she does not seem to feel much urgency in regards to her natural goal. If such terms exist in Behelits, she is more willing to indulge in recreational activities than any known predecessor. Aquiring knowledge and power for selfish reasons as well as being able of more precise and eased methods of conquerering, Mortgas does not blindly destroy as is common for her species. Mortgas is surprisingly vain and enjoys demonstrating her superiority and relishes in what comes with her demonstrations of power.

Background:

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Like all Behelits, Mortgas was born as a singular but sentient cell inside a black hole. These cells then get "ejected" along with the radiation which black holes regularly emit. Aimlessly flying through the galaxy, the cells remain motionless until a mass of them has accumulated. At that point, all the sentient cells lose their mind with only one "personality" retaining - That of the strongest and most dominant mind - In this case, Mortgas. Originally a mere lump of black flesh with crude limbs (almost resembling a stubby dinosaur plushy), the Behelit grows by consuming further congregations of Behelit Cells (hence their rarity) and absorbing life forces of devoured creatures. This process can take thousands and even tens of thousands of years, though Mortgas took considerably less time. Usually, a Behelit would now begin to mindlessly scour the galaxy he or she find themselves in, trying to eradicated and absorb every bit of energy he or she can find. A Behelits most primal programming demands to literally empty all that is and create a sort of singular supreme being. Needless to say, the utopian goal has never been reached.


Unlike her peers, however, Mortgas did not blindly begin to attempt and devour every bit of energy and sentience she came across in close proximity, but consciously sought out more lively galaxies and clusters. The level of accessibility and opportunity to study her is unprecedented in recorded history, and is enabled not only by her curiousity, but also her vanity. To balance her thirst for interaction with lesser species - or rather what she perceives as lesser species - and her instinctual, inherent craving for destruction - she often engaged in manhunts or waged war outside of the modern galaxies, where consequences that interfered with her personal interests were of no concern.


She has since arrived in the Phevr Consciouscness, which interests her due to certain similiarties. Needless to say, interactions with the native inhabitents have been difficult.