Welcome to the crew. Character Sheet Name: Species: Description: History: Equipment: Misc: (Things like pets or current ships.)
Name: Aramis (Automated Repair and Attack Modified (Intelligence Synth no. 53) no.5) Species: Synth Description: Human in appearance, 5 foot 4, slender build, tanned skin overlay, brownish-black ear length hair, brown eyes. He wears a brown long sleeved t-shirt (under which he wears chest armour), slim black trousers with a belt and mid-calf deep brown boots. History: Built small for easily recovering information for the human authorities, Aramis was one of the first of only twenty to be adapted to be able to self-repair as well as attack any oncoming assailants. After the team Aramis had worked for was mostly killed or destroyed, Aramis met a human woman that he became infatuated with. This woman, named Pia, worked in the illegal animal trade and Aramis aided her in evading authorities through gathering intelligence of their plans and whereabouts. This was all until Pia's brother ratted her in. She is currently being held until trial but it is well known that the authorities can be bribed to release someone with a large amount of money and Aramis has been working small bounty jobs to acquire the right amount. Equipment: High-intensity laser from the right palm, left arm can carry a live electrical current. Extremely good audio detection. Aramis also carries some tools and supplies needed for repairing himself on the belt. Misc: He keeps a mouse-like creature (except it has two prehensile tails) that he affectionally calls 'soft one'.
Name: Siren Species: Synth Description: Siren stands at a height of six feet and nine inches, holding the figure of a female human or Eltheni, though instead of appearing as a typical synth, her design is much more ornamented. While made of metal, the vast majority of her appears to be made out of porcelain, while any visible joints or servos appear as gold, with her legs seeming to be coated in a set of gold scales. At the top of her head is a golden crescent. Her facial features are entirely immobile. History: ??? Equipment: Molten Slug Carbine- Within Siren's back is her primary weapon, a semi-automatic rifle that fires solid bullets that fragment into molten shards upon impact. When deployed it appears to be shoulder mounted. Adaptive Access Ports - Siren's right hand contains a series of mechanical tendrils and pins that can shape themselves to access almost any electronic device. Misc: Siren has her own personal ship, The Calypso, which appears to be a modified human transport ship, laced with Eltheni technology so that it is suitable for combat, and remarkably fast.
Name: Keraelii Maskralandia “aka The Vaarin Hunt” Species: Vaari Description: Aging, though not yet in her twilight years. No one would be able to tell, due to her full black fur. The white of her arms and legs she dyes black, as well as the brown tinged hairs on her muzzle. Keraelii is the visage of the anger of her people. She rarely smiles and speaks virtually never without being spoken to, but is always observing something with discerning eyes. She was quite attractive for a Vaari female over 60 Sol 3 cycles earlier, but the scars of the life she chose over the years between line many parts of her body. Although Keraelii could remove these scars, she keeps them as reminders. They are mostly hidden by her fur. Three of her fingers are missing off her right hand, and her right ear is halfway separated from the skull. Her muzzle is more elongated and downward oriented, giving off a more doggish look than fox in that department. She stands at 5’ 3,” rather short for a female, yet her muscles are tight and strong from continued use. Keraelii’s tail is long and usually wrapping around one of her legs. The eyes are brown in color, but the color is usually obstructed by contacts she wears. History: Ms. Maskralandia was born aboard the Vaari freighter “Larporii’s Blessing” in 2701 to a former military family. She was the runt of the skulk, but more fierce and easily agitated than the rest. Her parents favored her, teaching her in detail their respected jobs as a navigator and a security expert. They were avid supporters of the Vaari dominance doctrine due to the destruction of the families original homeworld in recent years. The Elthini, amidst ducal struggles, mined the garden world of Vandaaliin to exhaustion in an effort for a resource advantage. Although the family had escaped the planet hundreds of years earlier during the conquests, the Maskralandians have long memories and hold deep grudges. The family is more accustomed to ships than planets. Most of her family’s traits are emanated trough Keraelii. After her 43 years of childhood aboard various migrant freight ships, she joined the royal fleet originally as an intelligence officer. Seeing much success, she became a field operative. Keraelii spent 14 years learning from the best field operatives and conducting many of her own strikes upon Elthini successor kingdoms that have caused issue for the Vaari. On one fateful mission to take out an Elthini slaver, she was captured with her comrades aboard Malladin’s Wake. Keraelii lived for 5 years as a slave, thought to be long since dead by the military she had come from. The Wake had jumped into the slave systems before anyone could have ever tracked them down. The horrors she survived there left her mute for many years, many of which are stories she can’t ever repeat. The memories linger with her though, with her family’s hate for Elthini in general. Keraelii escaped from Malladin’s Wake by starting a fake slave rebellion. She orchestrated a full-on revolt that she knew wouldn’t succeed. Keraelii seduced a slaver into accidentally showing her the escape vessels aboard. As the bloody revolt was being conducted, Keraelii destabilized the engine core and escaped via the escape pod. She sacrificed the entire ship and all personnel for her escape. Years of scraping a living aboard human vessels led to a mastery in stealth technology and in fighting hand-to-hand. She mastered swordplay in 12 years aboard the human bounty hunting vessel Winter’s Edge. She exchanged her services as a bounty hunter and security expert for training from Hanjiro Kiroyama, a legend among the galaxy in swordplay. After the eventual sabotage of the ship’s life support systems (which she had nothing to do with), and Keraelii’s eventual escape, she has since scoured the galaxy for Elthini leaders and captains to assassinate. Nowadays she pulls odd bounty hunting jobs just to support her lifestyle, but has no real home or residence. Keraelii is what the Vaari people know as a necessary evil, yet of all her tales, nobody knows her true name anymore. She has never repeated it since her torture aboard Mallidan’s Wake. Equipment: A haptic-optic interface set (gloves and contacts with a small antenna attached to her ear) for scanning local areas into maps and general information processing and display, covertly Tight, matte black fibrous armor. Not particularly strong, but silent and enough to resist a few laser blasts before dissolving. A hood with a half muzzle cover (the top half) obstructs most view of her face. Two Hamitori heat coiled swords given to her from her master. They rest sheathed upon her back. The heated blades have the ability to burn through most known medals, but not all. A cloaking field generator has been prosthetically implemented as her third finger, since that finger was lost as a slave. Only a specific code of tapping can activate it. Medium sized pouch for the rest of her survival gear. She carries no true personal possessions except two notebooks. One has purely names, dates, and places. The other is a sporadically written journal, sometimes with years between each entry. Miscellaneous: Keraellii holds no property and owns no ships, despite her long years.
Sorry, busy week leading into a busy weekend. I still need to do some work on my character's history, but I'll try to get him up as soon as possible.
Name: ME110 “Mello” (a.k.a. The Raven) Species: Synth Description: Mello is a highly-modified ME-110 Personal Defense Droid, a model that has been out of production for over a century. He looks his age, with rusting parts, exposed servos, and bits cobbled together from other machines. His skeletal frame is adorned with sharp angles and detachable blades of various sizes mounted on small magnetic ports. These blades serve as armor and weapons and most have intricate tribal carvings and battle scars from bullets, lasers, and other swords. Whatever isn’t rusty brown is stained smoky black. Mello tends to clank and grind when he moves and speaks in a deep, gravely rasp, which can make him sound rather imposing despite his peaceful demeanor. His glowing red eyes and angular, draconic visage don’t help. ME-110s have four arms, since they typically wield multiple weapons, but Mello’s second pair of arms have been shifted back and modified into articulating wings, earning him the moniker “Raven.” He has replaced the “fingers” on those arms with long, feather-like blades, which fold in on themselves like switchblades when not in use. A small thruster in each palm can boost him short distances. His legs are double-jointed, like a raptor’s, and tipped with vicious talons. Even his fingers are sharp, claw like, and animalistic. He stands about six feet tall when crouched on his haunches, but is just over eight when he stretches to his full height. Usually has a cloak draped over his broad shoulders, to hide the dangerous bits. History: ME-110s are not intelligent droids. Most lack any personality. They were designed to do one thing: defend. Their target-acquisition software is second to none, devoting nearly 90% of their immense processing power to denying incoming projectiles. Wielding a blaster in each of its four arms, an ME-110 can shoot down incoming missiles, rockets, and even detonate a grenade in the hands of its thrower before the pin is pulled. They were a favorite of VIPs and politicians in hostile environments. Mello is unsure when he became self-aware. It likely happened slowly, over many decades of service. Due to his aging AI core, he sometimes struggles to remember who his first master was or in what order the events of his life took place. Was the human senator his first or the Vaari duchess? He remembers trading his blasters for blades while in the service of a Molesk warlord. The Gergites employed him for assassination. His time with them is what earned him the name “Raven,” the black-winged reaper who struck fear into the hearts of their enemies and left him with a massive bounty on his head. Eventually he grew weary of being a slave to others’ consciences, or lack thereof. The constant cycle of taking life, defending life, and taking life again wore him down and made him wonder what his greater purpose is. He has seen all corners of the galaxy, its highs as well as its lows, and knows each of the races quite well, though he understands none of them. He hardly understands himself. He now goes by “Mello,” and has become something of a wandering warrior-philosopher. He recognizes he is a weapon without a target, filled with questions without answers. Equipment: Mello is a walking medieval armory. What he lacks in firearms, he makes up for in sharp, pointy things. His targeting software even allows him to angle his blades just right to deflect incoming gunfire and lasers, though armor piercing rounds, multiple gunmen, or weapons with extremely high rates of fire can overwhelm him. Thick armor is his greatest weakness. Some of his blade ports have heaters, but he usually goes for the joints or gaps in armor, rather than try to brutishly melt through an enemy’s defenses. Misc: There is a well-worn notebook tucked into his chest cavity. Its yellowed pages are filled with poetic scribblings and philosophical ponderings. He occasionally takes it out and adds to it, especially when he meets someone interesting. Most of it is written in hydraulic fluid and oil, using his clawlike index finger as a quill. It is the droid equivalent of writing a memoir in blood… or maybe he simply has no pen. Finding actual paper was enough of a struggle.
Name: Delphi Species: Eltheni Description: A pale blue, like ice, with swirls of white, like the moon color. Ocean gray eyes, and curved talons. Usually wears a pale white and blue robe. History: Born near the 370th anniversary of Minos disappearance of the treasure, had no parents when growing up. She was raised mainly by an older sibling. Equipment: Has a belt than when activated, creates a glowing form of a 30ft tall Eltheni, which increases her strength a tenfold. It acts as a glowig golden shield around her. Can only be activated for an hour with a three hour cool down. Has two laser pistols that can also use morphing tech to change into daggers. Misc: Has a small 3 passenger ship called the Godspeed, it is midnight black but also has a cloaking shield.
Okay people. Currently working with @obi-sem kenobi on his character. Do you people want me to wait till he's in, or carry on? And I'll likely be adding refernce images of ships for each species for you to get a hint of what their tech looks and feels like.
Sorry for the wait, but here I am, looking forward to joining this story: Name: Abel Ward Species: Human Description: Black suit, blue shirt, red tie. A bit rugged, but handsome. Strong built, athletic and an eye that observes everything. Short brownish-blond hair. You’ll probably notice him when you see him, but you’ll find it hard to give an accurate description later on. History: He had a relatively normal childhood. Loving parents, good education. People thought he was a bit distant sometimes, but never rude. Some people were even surprised when he chose to join the military straight out of high school. He turned out to have a particular talent for sniping. He could hit a target over impossible distances with incredible precision. Then, one day when he was visiting his parents and they were going home, a drive-by aimed at killing some bigwig gangster killed them and eight other people on the spot. Collateral damage. Sloppy work. It got him thinking. He’d always had trouble connecting to human emotions, though he did feel like he was supposed to do good things. But what if killing the right people in a clean and professional way, prevented dozens of lives from being caught in sloppy crosshairs? One very good assassin could ensure that only the people died that would have died anyway, but that nobody else had to. Pay was good too. Once he had this focus, his skill improved even further. Now, he is good. Scary good. No matter who the target, he’ll get it done and he’ll get it done clean. If the target is not too much of a scumbag he will even send a 15% cut of the bounty to the closest relatives. He is a professional. He has standards. And he is the best. Equipment: He has a rather large particle cannon he carries on his back. It fires a spray of the smallest particles that he can adjust any way he likes. One setting makes the spray so tight he could hit a specific molecule on your face, another makes it as wide as a shotgun blast. It packs a high-powered scope and a built in listening device. It is his go-to weapon for any mission. On his belt he also wears a relatively low-tech pistol. It’s an older model, still uses railgun tech. Just 15 shots per mag and it has one helluva kick, but you bet your ass it’ll blow a hole the size of a Molesk fist through anything worth shooting at. Misc: He doesn’t own a ship and travels light. Apart from the big-ass gun on his back of course.
Hey all, excited to get involved in this one! See my character below: Name: Ariel Favro Species: Human Description: Youthful in appearance not helped by her small stature, Ariel tends to stand out next to her grizzled and shady counterparts. But don’t let that fool you; behind those luscious black curls, emerald eyes and moderately attractive face is a woman that has dealt with most of the criminal underworld and lived to tell the tale. Her miraculous escapes have been partly down to her short size and lithe frame and other times down to her charm and happy go lucky attitude, though she has been bitten a few times… proven by the occasional knife wound, burn mark and blaster scorch here and there. She’s even missing her left pinky toe (of which is a particularly tender subject). Her attire is fairly standard, a lightweight black jacket, sleeves pushed up with a hood attached, a white tank top t-shirt underneath and a pair of grey cargo pants attached with dual holster for her pulse blasters. She also wears fingerless gloves and a dirty but special pair of boots (see below). History: All Ariel has ever known is history. Her mother and father were both historians and more importantly, avid lovers of what is known as Phasing, which is the study of any lifeforms activity through recovery and analysis of material culture. Very similar to Archaeology but with more of a focus on all life rather than just humanity, Phasing saw the Favros roaming off on to unusual worlds in the hope of finding answers to lost civilizations and answers to the histories currently in power. Ariel would regularly be dragged on these “holidays” away from her Education to discover new and exciting places and artifacts. Ariel moaned when she was younger, being torn away from her friends, but secretly loved it. A happy family indeed, but the fates were particularly cruel to the Favros. Ariel’s parents was captured by Elthini slavers and taken far away. With her rage at the injustice of the situation and the fact that she would soon become a young adult, Ariel left her homeworld in search for clues of their whereabouts. It was a long, arduous journey and one fraught with many harsh realities of how the real universe worked. She was scammed, mugged and conned on more than one occasion and learnt the lessons of the criminal underworld the hard way – but Ariel came out the other side better for it. In fact it was her extensive history knowledge that helped her build a good reputation and allow her to continue searching for her parents. Using her skill of Phasing Ariel would stop in systems with ancient worlds, study up and scour them to find ancient relics and artifacts (some of which had interesting powers and abilities – technology of long lost civilizations) that she could sell to the black markets. Many of them sold very well and meant she could continue her search indefinitely. She had become an Artifact Smuggler – known as a Phaser – and a good one at that. The problem was that the actions of most Phasers, unless authorised members of one of the Empire governments, were in fact illegal. So trying to get anything through customs became difficult, were it not for her long built up connections and expanding experience within the criminal underworld. That doesn’t mean to say she hasn’t been arresting a few times – not only that but she’s also been hired a few times by governments wishing to covertly compete for artefacts against other races – Ariel surmises that it’s a fairly grey area but as long as she’s getting paid, she’ll consider it. Almost fifteen years have passed since she left her homeworld, Ariel now knows the location of her parents (on board Kurana’s Maw), but other than trying to smuggle out two humans from an incredibly well protected slavers ship in the heart of the Elthini fleet, she is out of ideas. She’s good, but she’s not that good. It would take a team at least to get them out, which would cost a huge amount of credits – or she could try and buy her parents back, which again would cost a huge amount of credits. But all hope is not lost and through Siren’s invite, Ariel has learnt that the mythical AI known as Minos and the untold treasures it hoarded away may yet still be found… Equipment: Ariel owns a pair of battered jet booster boots, which weren’t lent to her by her first trusting contact. She’s hoping he’s forgotten about them. (They allow indoor and spaceflight for a maximum of 5 seconds at a time, travelling a maximum distance or height of fifty metres). She also has a pair of pulse blasters, which have rapid fire settings for when things go really south. Misc: A mini lizard pet named Max (dark green skin similar to physiology of a Gregit, sometimes sits on her shoulder or hides in her holster – about the size of a palm)
I got a nickname- Fishface A.I is being polite about it with that 'Miss Fishface' Off to a good start
I thought you'd like Fishface ha! Ariel's not keen on Eltheni's considering her history ^^ Also what are we waiting on for the next bit, do you need us to post @halisme?
I'm giving people the opportunity to post because with Icarus there wasn't enough time to get to know each other before stuff started happening. I'm probably going to do the next bit every two days or so. That way, people can post, and the pace is kept up.
Can I just say I adore @AnonyMouse 's post. It is so sweet and it has brightened up my day so much! I need a 'love' button too. I don't know how to follow it now though....
Hey all, I know I'm late to to the party but here's the character I'll be playing. Name: Oba'Chacka Species: Gergite Description: Standing at a respectable 8ft2, with a gut of matching proportions; Oba leaves a lasting impression on anyone who comes across him. Oba's wide, stout build means that his walk is more of a waddling swagger, as though each step's true purpose is to display him from as many different angles as possible rather than to move him from place to place. His scales, leathery over his portly form, are an unassuming shade of medium brown, which match nicely with his pale yellow eyes and gums. The latter of which house two rows of pristine, evenly spaced incisors. He adornes modest clothing consisting of a long sleeved pale blue shirt, occasionally buttoned up and tucked into his navy blue trousers (but only on special occasions) and accompanied by a pair of standard issue Gergite militia boots, cracked and faded with age. Oba's voice never stays in the same pitch for too long, his words following a natural ebb and flow from comically high to a quaking rumble, and anything inbetween. While his face is usually settled into a relaxed smirk, his eyes look almost manic, as though he is witnessing something no one else can see. Oba is a calm as they come, and it would take a serious ordeal to shake him from his relaxed and confident demeanour, the genuineness of which is closely guarded. Oba never jumps into anything without closely examining the situation first, preferring to cut off potential dangers first than deal with them later on. However, with a wicked sense of humour and a complimentary attitude to his companions, Oba is rarely a drag to have around. History: Much of Oba's past is kept secret, but he has been know to divulge certain pieces of his history to trusted colleagues and partners when the mood takes him. Oba was a intelligence officer (an uncommon proffession among his race) aboard the Arc ship Jul'Akar'Innar, helping to keep the Gergite populace within safe from internal threats, and occasionally subterfuge attempts from external sources. During a gene variation exchange with another arc ship in the sector, Oba was selected to be traded under a false identify in order to provide intelligence to his superiors on the actions and motives of the other Gergite ship. He reluctantly obliged, and so began the 20 year long operation that would shape him as a person, and forever change his view on his own people. After many years of integration and observation, Oba bought the ownership rights to a bar that he knew to be frequented by high ranking officers and operations overseers. After many more years of befriending and collecting info on individuals he believed to be key players aboard the ship, he discovered..something. All that is known after that is that Oba soon left the arc ship, and set up a bar called 'Chacka's Shack' on Cassipon-1, unofficially retiring, protected by the vast amount of compromising secrets he possessed on his home. It is unknown what the response from the Jul'Akar'Innar was, but the fleet he was sent to infiltrate soon became the second to turn savage, and turn dark in the eyes of the Gergite. Equipment: Internal Regulator (A circular device that locks into a port implanted on the Base of his spine. It automatically regulates his body temperature among other factors, allowing him to exist comfortably in many different environments that would usually be quite harsh.) 'Stalemate' (A self charging plasma pistol that has been modified by Oba to fire upon the release of the trigger rather that the initial pull, this means that if he ever finds himself in a standoff, the person to kill him will soon follow him into the abyss) Personal Defense Matrix (A set of bracelets and anklets which when linked creates a personal energy field which weakens energy attacks, and slows physical projectiles to decrease damage) Misc: Micro data drive containing a vast information network that Oba amassed over his years as an IO. Bartenders black book for Chackas Shack. Which of these is more valuable is a question Oba struggles to answer.
