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| Mass Effect: Hired Guns | |
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+4Mr Allen J Admiral Ji Patches Snowy 8 posters | |
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Snowy Patrician of Ankh-Morpork
Posts : 1564 Join date : 2011-09-29 Age : 33 Location : Bird school, which is for birds.
| Subject: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Thu 16 Jan 2014, 2:17 am | |
| For every galaxy-spanning epic of "saving the universe, getting the girl, and BAMFing home in time for dinner," there are hundreds, if not thousands, of stories of normal people, all trying to make their way in the world, making mistakes and getting home late. But these stories have just as much right to be told as any other, especially when one person hoards all of the galaxy-saving epics for themselves. This, obviously, is where you come in. You are the crew and captain of a small cargo transport. It's big enough to have its own FTL drive, but not much bigger than that. Whoever joins is probably the entirety of the crew. This is a far cry from the galaxy's most advanced stealth ship; sometimes the engine goes bang, and smoke comes out the back, or sometimes the automatic doors develop an attitude problem and need to be shown who's boss with a hammer. But it's a serviceable ship, and more importantly, it was an affordable one. So long as it has a steady supply of scheduled maintenance and replacement parts, it'll keep you in the sky. The nuts and bolts This is the year 2182, a year before Mass Effect 1. Shepard hasn't started his/her climb to fame yet; humanity is still just one of the assorted non-council races waiting to make their mark on the galaxy. The Reapers are but a forgotten legend, and will be for some time. Your crew takes jobs when and where they find them; I'll be pretty open as to what options you take, and I'll try to provide multiple contracts for you to choose from, so you can pick what sort of emphasis you want the crew to focus on (mostly, do you prefer to haul cargo or do hits). That said, feedback is appreciated as to whether there should be a bias in what offers you receive. One of you players will be the captain. You can volunteer for this, because I won't be doing it. If nobody volunteers, I'll put up a poll. You'll be operating mainly in the Attican Traverse and the Terminus systems. You may find your way to the Citadel sometimes, but places like Omega are more often the norm. Thermal clips aren't a thing; guns overheat as in the first game, but there is differing weapon variety as in later games. The exact details of your ship aren't set in stone just yet; again, if there's a marked preference in what you as a crew want to be doing, that will alter what you get as a ship. Speaking of the ship: it will break sometimes. Things will go wrong, and you'll have to fix them. This may not always happen at a convenient time. It has a top speed of around 40c, so it's not exactly fast (most human ships as of the 2150's can hit 50c). Character sheet: Name: Species: (no geth, obviously, and I'd recommend against Volus or Elcor) Age: Gender: Biotic: (y/n) Description: Racial dispositions: (Any races around that you particularly get along well or badly with? Why?) History: (once we get our sheets in, I'd like or everyone to have run into at least one other person before joining the ship, or encountered the group up to that point as a whole and found their own reasons to sign on.) Personality: (Don't need much here, but the important part is why you would choose this life - or, if it's been thrust upon you, what you're looking for out of life instead) Marketable Skills: (if you're keen on fighting, or if you're not, list your weapon of choice here) Here's a few wiki pages that might be helpful: http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Terminus_Systemshttp://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Attican_Traversehttp://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Races
Last edited by Snowy on Fri 17 Jan 2014, 10:05 pm; edited 1 time in total | |
| | | Snowy Patrician of Ankh-Morpork
Posts : 1564 Join date : 2011-09-29 Age : 33 Location : Bird school, which is for birds.
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Thu 16 Jan 2014, 2:17 am | |
| Reserved for sheetifications and stuff. - Balu:
Name: Ger'tak Metis Species: Drell Age: 28 Gender: F Biotic: y(natural ability, but no powerful skill) Description: The female drell are not known for their figure, like the Turians they are almost indistinguishable from the males. Ger'tak is no different, and doesn't try to be. Her reptilian figure and wiry muscles give her the appearance of a some shattered creature, emaciated and charred. Her exterior flesh is of a dark tan, mottled with black, like a half burnt cinder. The flesh under her neck is a lighter tan, akin to sand. A minor distinguishing feature between males and females, are the ridges on the skull, for females, they are smaller, but more striated and serrated, allowing for more efficient heat dispersal.
She wears brown, black, and tan male civilian's clothing, stained with oil, rust, and various other things. She is left handed, and this is the arm the Omni-tool resides. She has greatly modified her Omni-tool, so that its colour isn't just a simple Iridescent orange, but a vibrant hue of red and yellow it shifts back and forth with, (Still mainly orange) In situations where she is required to wear some form of armour, she wears sub-standard armour with high power kinetic barriers and shields. Racial dispositions: She gets along with just about all races, except Batarians. They just don't warm up to her sensibilities. Especially likes Quarians and Humans. And of course the Hanar, saviours of the Drell. All other races simply arouse her curiosity.
History: Grew up on a relatively lawless space station in the Attican Traverse, with only her refugee mother looking out for her and only for a short time. Luckily after her death the damp space station was attacked by a group of Pirates. For a time she was a slave aboard their ship, entrusted with assisting the mechanic after the discovery of her talents, and the limited appeal of her young reptilian form. She spent almost a year in their "service" before, while her and the mechanic were out looking for a repair, she got behind the poor Batarian and stabbed him in the leg; taking the money he would have used to buy parts to buy herself a ticket off-world. Though it wasn't actually a ticket, it was more bribing a Human Frigate captain to take her to the nearest Space-port not in this system.
After the Frigate brought her to the space-port, the captain brought her aside and told her that she should look for work on a friend's Scrapper, and that he'd give her a job. Following his advice she followed the captain's instructions around the space-docks to find the Scrapper he mentioned. She came to the owner and pilot of the Salvage ship and asked if she could be a part of the crew. He chuckled and said there was no crew, just him, his wife and their son. She mentioned the Captain of the frigate, and he took her inside to meet his family. She thought his wife was pretty, and the son was childish. Despite a minor protest from the boy (who had thought her to be a creature from the moon of some out of the way planet that was said to devour souls) they allowed her to help and stay.
She lived the rest of her childhood and teenage years on that vessel. Some seven years in total until one day while the family was salvaging an abandoned ship caught in a seasonal meteor field, a solar flare disabled the kinetic barriers of the ship while they were cutting off pieces of the ghost ship. Suddenly as they tried to quickly get back to the ship to reset the the kinetic barriers, an energy blast struck the wife, killing her. Ger'tak clambered into the ship just into time to see the blast catch the man. The boy was close behind her, and as she grabbed his arm and pulled him in a bolt struck his shoulder and he was knocked unconscious. She closed the airlock and dragged his body into the main hold of the ship. She caught a glimpse out the main view port of the ship that was attacking them; The pirates she had escaped from.
She stood no chance against their boarding party, and she watched as they dragged her friend and threw him out the airlock with no remorse. The vacuum of space does horrors to a human body. Luckily she never saw them. as there was little left of the body that was recognizable as flesh after she was brought to the pirate ship and the small ship was destroyed by the large weapons of the Pirates. The pirate captain was a batarian with a missing leg. Presumably the same batarian as she had stabbed, but he just smirked and waved while he smoked a large cigar, and he was gone and she was in the dark in a room that was damp. She sensed they were going to kill her.
Their mistake though. They locked her in one of the parts storage rooms, as they thought it would be excessively humid. And it was a good thing it was, as while she was scrounging around looking for something to get her out of the prison, she found rusty iron and bits of titanium. The fools even left an old omni-tool in the storage, allowing her to create a thermitic bomb. She had to be careful how she used it, as placing it wrong would eat through the hull, killing everyone including her self. She used a small piece to cut a hole in the lock of the door and escape.
Then she moved on to the engine room, placing the bomb on the a place where it would disable an easily fixable but very needed power circuit, disabling the mass effect engine, and all other mass effect fields on the ship. Alarms started to go off, so she knew they had found her empty cell. She jumped into a maintenance shaft and set off the bomb. The room filled with bright light and then she was weightless. Pirates, while they might be crafty, clever, and creative... aren't the smartest of the bunch. If they were, they'd do something with better benefits. But these pirates, weren't crafty, clever, or creative at all, instead of searching the ship for her, half the crew stood errr- floated around shouting, and the other half watched the ball of glowing thermite as it waited to cool by convection. Only one looked for her. The captain. Who she promptly kicked in the face and tied up as soon as he found her.
A local security ship picked up on a distress call a few days later. They found a pirate ship with 7 half starved, dehydrated pirates locked in the Engine room, and a single civilian lounging in wait in the captain's chair eating some rations. The security officials could hardly believe it.
Personality: Adventurous and though naive about the world beyond machinery, she has heart even though she may not understand it at times. The loses in her life have hardened it, and her head, but wise words and a soft touch can break the hardest of shells. She is no stranger to death, but she refuses to cause it unless it is an act of mercy. She will gladly cut your tendons and sit there watching you writhe unable to fully control yourself. She spends most of her free time tinkering with this and that more often than not breaking things, just so she can fix them again, and if she manages to make it better, the more power to her. A deeply analytical person, upon meeting someone she has never met, she meticulous scans them over and over again, finding their weaknesses, strengths, and quirks. She thinks she is far more clever than she actually is, and is genuinely surprised when she is wrong about something she is so sure about. A life among humans has eroded at her drell religion, but some of it remains. Marketable Skills: Has an almost innate ability to understand computers, machines, and the like. Her weapons of choice are all in her omni-tool, a good silicon carbide blade, and her trusty plasma-torch-thing, "Ratek".
- Jazz:
Name: Cirrus Kla Species: Vorcha Age: 13 Gender: Effeminate Biotic: Nope
Description: Wiry ectomorph. Many folds of greenish, oily skin, pulled taut about sections of its crested skull and critical musculature. Three deft, long-ish fingers per black-stained hand, each tipped with a rounded sensory pad protected by some manner of bony fingernail.
Deeply unpleasant coutenance. All entreaties to wear a mask thus far rejected, possibly out of misplaced pride. Bulging eyes with some kind of banded pupil (peculiar to its clan, and not present at birth), nested in blackened tissue, guarded by thick ridges. Batlike nose and needle-sharp teeth, perpetually bared.
Wears a vest and/or bra, boxers, and precious little else. Maybe a belt holding its stuff.
Racial dispositions: Scared of most other vorcha, and of krogan and humans by extension. Wary of salarians and ambivalent towards asari. Grudgingly admires quarians. Tolerates batarians and the remaining Citadel races.
History: Proud heir to a clan of vorcha pilots three decades in existence. Trained on a loaned turian ship which had been in the clan for generations, until it was repossessed to be recycled for scrap metal.
One of about, say, three dozen cousins and siblings, all of whom eventually hired themselves out to one spacecraft-possessing person or organization or another. All have since died in a variety of regrettable accidents.
Except for that one who got murdered for harboring ideas beyond its station, yes. And that other one who mucked up the slave raid. And so on.
Kla, by contrast, fell through the cracks, possibly by choice. It spent a while keeping up with the family news until finally, it was chosen as a pilot (for its skill or out of necessity, who knows) by a crew of one or more relatively poorly-armed aliens who, generally speaking, didn't treat it like dumb vermin.
Understandably, it's stayed on with them ever since.
Voice Test: "Ooh, blue-plate man? I like him. He resolve a misunderstanding with residents of tenement once. Everyone else live. Very good, yes?
"He look very aggrieved, say the whole thing incidental, but not maim nor evict family. I remember and recommend highly."
> How did you recommend him if you don't know his name?
"I know him when I see him," it whines. "We ask around anyways. It work out."
Personality: Enjoys being alive, having food to eat, having a family, and being respected as a person, in roughly that order.
Wants children before it dies of old age, and may well be capable of asexual reproduction in order to make that happen, but has been sufficiently well-socialized to realize that inconveniencing the crew by doing so unnanounced would be impolite.
Since it credits its continued existence to being both polite and discrete - despite natural selection's apparent precedent, - it has been careful about how and to whom it has announced this desire.
Marketable Skills: Crack pilot with reliably split-second reflexes. Never calls in sick. Can produce a small pistol from its chestgear with startling speed and fire a few times before the thing overheats. Whether it can hit anything is another matter.
- Ji:
Name: Bere'Riat Vas Ourship Nar Qwib-Qwib
Species: Quarian Age: 32 Standard Citadel Years Gender: Male
Biotic: No
Racial dispositions: Mostly impartial, feels somewhat guilty around other Quarians, and obviously believes in the total destruction of all Geth forever.
History: Bere's upbringing was somewhat normal for the average Quarian. Much of his early life consisting of staying out of the way, learning how to help keep the ships functioning, and getting ready for the day when it'd be his actual responsibility to serve the greater whole in his people's journey across the stars. Of course all those social skills, skill at minorly fixing things, and watching his marine parents weren't worth much when he reached the age of twenty galactic standard years, and it was time for his pilgrimage.
It began well enough, opting for being dropped off on a relatively close by human colony in the Terminus Systems. He managed to display enough technical competence to help out at a junkyard the colony ran for passing ships, breaking them down into parts to resell, while repairing and refurbishing ships the passersby intended to keep. Of course, Bere would occasionally pocket mostly useless pieces, and stow them for recovery later. These pieces were to be used as a large mass of replacement parts for whatever ship he tried to join when he returned.
However, life in the Terminus Systems is not without risk, as all colonists know when they set out for such life. It was three months into his pilgrimage when a slaver ship descended on the colony. The colony only consisted of about four human families, and their ability to resist militarily was unable to prevent the slavers of the starship ironically named Liberator from capturing most of the colonists, Bere included. His captors had intended to sell him along with the humans to a batarian work camp, when the Asari captain T’Cohi instead decided she could use him as a ship’s engineer instead of as a relatively minor sale. His new life as an enslaved engineer/general mechanic was equal parts terrible and mundane. After managing to ensure the pirates scavenged things resembling the required filters Bere needed to not die, he held the position in relative submission for the following five years, eventually building a minor rapport with the majority of the crew. They eventually began to allow him to exit the ship with the team on away missions. (though always under armed guard, and never armed himself)
Bere never rebelled, he never attempted escape, and with access to communications barred, was never able to call for help. It was this that made him all too trustworthy one fateful day, five years, four months, and six days after his initial capture. It was supposed to be a simple deal, The Liberator had come into a few crates of Red Sand and needed to offload them quickly, unfortunately their buyers were far better armed than they should have been, and entirely untrustworthy. It began with two pistols being drawn and fired, taking down two of the eight (counting Bere) slavers before anyone had time to react. Mere moments later everyone was in cover and engaging in a heated firefight, save for a one Bere’Riat. At least, not until it dawned on him that fire was being opened upon him as well. The thought of dying for his captors was something he could not even consider, and so he crept through the battlefield, rolling and letting his suit’s built in kinetic barriers keep him safe, until he found what he was searching for: A weapon.
Now he’d never actually held a gun, seen them surely, but held, let alone fired? Still, it was his life on the line, and he knew he had to try. The assault rifle he’d found was cheap, low end, and mostly unremarkable, but the kick was still far more than Bere was expecting, however, it was also not nearly enough to stop him as the adrenaline forced him upright and into the firefight. He’d managed two kills of his own that day, before the fight wound its way to the end. He’d managed to get through the fight without a single round ever piercing his shields, mostly due to his nonthreatening appearance as a Quarian. Their attackers had either all died or fled, Bere could not tell which. His side, however, was near entirely destroyed, only the Captain remained standing as well. Unfortunately, she was busy attempting to radio the ship when Bere realized this was his only chance, and he gunned the Asari down where she stood, hardly giving her time to spin around before her barriers failed, and the bullets ripped her flesh. Yes she’d saved him from a life of menial servitude to batarians… but the entire prospect of it, and his life of menial servitude to her crew, were her fault entirely. He felt no remorse that day, now free, as he scavenged the bodies of the fallen. He took credits, pieces of armor, and a radio link, as he headed off deeper into the planet, arranging a pick up with his new found money.
Of course, it was hard to find work in the Traverse and Bere was now equipped for only one job. It wasn’t long before he fell into the life of a freelance merc just to get by. Over the past seven years he’s shot and killed at least a few members of each other sapient species in the galaxy. Mostly spending his credits on living expenses, and saving away bit by bit for a ship of his own.
While out job searching, Bere once accidentally walked into a Bloodpack recruiting office with intent to sign up for a mission. Obviously due to the inherent racism in any system run by krogans, he was nearly rejected when, being tossed out of the room, a rather friendly krogan immediately declared him part of his Krannt. Unsure of what that actually meant, Bere agreed on the grounds that it let him work today, and for a few more months, before he eventually grew tired of the bloodpack’s ruthless and excessive methods, and jumped ship for kinder waters. He made sure to keep in touch with the Krogan he was apparently the Krannt of though, always good to have a Krogan on your side.
Eventually Insert part where I’ve met one other person for group cohesion
Description: Bere, like many Quarians, is relatively thin and wiry compared to the average human. He stands likely 5 foot 8, though a little bit of that comes from the helmet. While little can obviously be ascertained about his actual appearance, the appearance of his suit is what anyone will ever see anyway. It consists mostly of a green layer over the more or less normal grey bits, standard as one would find on any Quarian, . The helmet’s visor is a light blue, which unfortunately makes it somewhat harder to track the light reflecting off of his eyes. His most immediately striking features are the aftermarket upgrades he’s been undertaking upon said suit. Assorted bits of armor, some human, some turian, and even a small section of a krogan pauldron, dot across his suit in strategic points to help prevent his actually being injured, a costly and very unfortunate event for a species that doesn’t tend to suffer horribly when exposed to outside contaminants, let alone a Quarian. The armor bits are a rather pale yellow, seemingly chipping after a long time between repaintings. In light of several unfortunate tripping incidents sustained while serving aboard The Liberator, with its occasional grated flooring, Bere actually wears steel-toed boots instead of skin tight foot coverings, in order to prevent vital, yet tragically long and spindly body parts slipping through unfortunate holes in the ground.
Personality: Bere is fairly open and sociable, something most Quarians learn to do as a reflex to make up for lost body language. His tendency for somewhat rash action when given the option has earned him more than a few enemies, but he endeavors to remain fairly pleasant and likeable to be around. While willing to kill, he somewhat regrets the way his life has gone, and longs for the day he can buy his own ship, and sail back to the Migrant Fleet as Captain Riat.
Marketable Skills: Owing to seven years of successfully not dying as a mercenary, Bere is reasonably skilled at straight up firefights, sneaking around the back, and generally causing military mayhem. As part of spending twenty years as a Quarian in the migrant fleet, and an extra five serving aboard a rundown slaver vessel, he is reasonably good at hitting it with a wrench until it works again, but he is hardly engineer material for a ship that has the option. He also considers himself reasonably good at this new fangled human game of poker, and a fairly decent dancer. Not that he’ll give anyone reason to confirm the latter. His preferred weapon is an old M-96 Mattock, one of his first purchases out in the frontier. He also still owns an Executioner pistol from his time with the bloodpack, though it rarely leaves his locker.
- Lieo:
Name: T'ella "Ella" Phori Species: Asari Age: 201 Gender: Mono-gender; feminine Biotic: Yes. Description: At 5'9", 139 lbs, and 36C, Ella has a standard curvature seen in most asari maidens, though her muscles are noticeably much finer toned than others of her kind. Her complexion is healthy as she lacks few scars with the exception of a small one stretching an inch below her left eye. Thin black markings are drawn across her brows and outline her eyes on her ashy blue skin, with little contrast between her skin and her deep ocean blue irises. Her scalp crests appear generally standard, giving her a round head but curl off at the end, adding an elegant touch. A small nose and half-full lips gives her the cute appearance of innocence which betrays her brash nature, and conflicts with a pronounce jaw line. Her body is adorned with a skin tight suit of light onyx armor sparing the helmet, which does a good job of making her body type more pronounced. A belt is done loosely around her waist to carry certain equipment. Equipped with her is an omni-tool (which is used mostly as a scanner, for communications, and as a weapon that can be utilized), and a harpy line pistol.
Given the comfortability and practical uses of her armor, she doesn't generally kick it back and relax in her more standard clothing. She scoffs at the idea of traditional asari threads, especially the robes and cloaks often worn by matriarchs. When she kicks back and relaxes, it is usually done in a casual spacer outfit. A thick, bulky, and sleeveless vest wraps around her unzipped, providing padding on top of a tight fitting black shirt, which is as well sleeveless and reveals a small portion of her mid rim. A thick black leather belt secures a pair of pants to her body, which in itself is somewhat tight, but loose and comfortable around joints as to provide unrestricted movement. On her feet, she wears thick boots that are good for kicking a person if they piss her of. She has very little accessories beyond that, as she sees them as trivial, but she does have fingerless gloves, which serves some, albeit little, practical purpose.
Racial dispositions: She's usually somewhat bitter around other asaris due to not being allowed a huntress and childhood conflicts, and doesn't care too much about humans since their men sometimes tend to have a sexist nature.
History: Ella was born as an exceptionally gifted biotic, this was something that many Matrons and Matriarchs could see. But as she grew up expressing little to no interest in developing her biotic abilities, she was commonly looked upon as a failure when she refused to uphold tradition and hone her gifts. This adds insult to injury as she was also born a pure blood - the daughter of two asaris, which too, is looked down upon. This being the case, she faced adversity throughout her childhood, generally amongst her peers. This had her develop an aggressive social response and defense mechanism, being more expressive through her actions than her words.
This of course has its pros and cons. Her brazen nature defied normal social standards and tradition, as she tended to follow the path of greater resistance as her disdain for her community grew. She was no longer interested in satisfying those around her and rather she chose to follow whichever path she wanted and what satisfied her. She failed in conventional wisdom and cultural smarts - but she had a sharp wit and good understanding of basic sociology, granting her a different kind of wisdom on how to deal with others and twist them around to get what she wanted. She was also more physically developed than other asari her age, being more active in athletic activities. But she did receive her education and handled it well, but her end decision led her to a career path where she would do less with it.
She aspired to asarian military. Of course, they had no conventional military, so she had to look among the units within several communities. She started training as a huntress, no specialization within a particular unit. She spent 30 whole years studying the martial arts as is the standard routine, and he excelled in all the physical requirements needed to be a huntress. Unfortunately, despite her natural talent for biotics, she lacked refinement due to her neglect of practice. She was discouraged, but proceeded to try her luck in different units. Her first choice was the Serrice Guard, famed for defeating the Blood Pack with only five commandos leading the unit. Unfortunately, despite her greatest efforts, she failed to enlist in the Guard. Naturally, she felt angry and confused. After all, she devoted much of her time training to become a huntress and appeared more capable than the others - but her biotics let them down. Following the trend of following the path of greater resistance, she made an irregular choice. She promised herself that instead of practicing her biotics, she was make her way purely on her own skill, strength and dexterity.
Refusing to serve upon a cruiser, she tried one last option: the Armali Sniper Unit. She did pretty well, too. Her physical aptitude had already met the requirements without training, and biotics weren't as necessary at long ranges. She had quite the sharp eye from her previous efforts at training. However, the requirements were strict. Your hit percentage had to have been greater than 95, and unfortunately, Ella was two points shy.
Furious with her consistent failures she fled her home on a space-bound mercenary ship captained by a Hanar, where hopefully her skills would be appreciated. She's been on that ship for a while, and excelled in operations that included infiltration, assassinations, spy work, and information retrieval. Her experiences has left her with a take-no-bullshit attitude and a little bad at taking orders from others, but she proves useful enough. She's still sore about living as a mercenary and not as a huntress, so she'll probably try to knock your teeth down your throat if you make a snide remark about it or ask far too many questions about it.
Personality: Generally grumpy, bitter, and acts as though she has better things to do. Though usually she sits around and drinks until she has stuff to do, making comments on the situations at hand and this laughs as she thinks back on them (even though nobody else usually does). Despite that, she is very level-headed while on a job and can be something that resembles caring once she develops bonds with her crewmates. She can behave voluptuously when it amuses her or is required to get what she wants if it can't be gotten by threatening them, otherwise she tends to abstain from sexual and romantic activities. Her training to be a huntress has left her surprisingly good when it came to giving orders but is also a source of some of her bitterness. It has also given her an idea on how to a treat a cut, scrape, burn or bullet wound but she isn't really trained at it and is fairly unreliable when it comes to healing. She has a deep, inner fear when it comes to failure and she deals with it poorly. She's also very prideful and gets angry when her abilities are called into question. She refuses to use her biotics.
Marketable Skills: Pointing and shooting, close-combat, giving orders, sneaking, manipulating her targets, things of that nature. She's also good at drinking alcohol and playing poker. She particularly enjoys giving the Quarian gunman some semblance of hope before stealing the victory away from under his mask (though she's probably cheating).
- Snowy:
Name: Nakmor Turenk Species: Krogan Age: 60 Gender: M Biotic: y (sort of) Description: Turenk is average-sized for a krogan, at 7'6" in armor, 7'2" out of it, built like a freight train, and with a face only a mother could love. His head-plates are slate-colored and dinged with assorted small scars, and he has muddy greenish-colored scales around his jawline. His eyes are blue and carry a constant expression of minor annoyance at life in general; another krogan might notice a slight dilation of the pupils. His face is towards the pointy end of the spectrum, with a sharply-defined chin. His bearing is hard to tell for the outsider, since the only real krogan posture is "hunched over"; that said, he doesn't pick his feet up much, and usually doesn't seem to be in a big hurry wherever he's going.
His non-combat clothing is hard to tell from a set of combat armor, save that it's made of comparatively supple alien leathers with textures not seen on earth. It affords minor protection, and it even has titanium weave around the vital bits. It's a far cry from a hardsuit, though, and he doesn't often wear it off the ship. Armor is the cultural expectation, after all. This is usually paired with a set of tinted ocular lenses if worn outside.
His actual armor is of the common style for the Blood Pack, painted over on the actual plates with a slate blue, roughly matching his head plates. The paint is well-maintained, though it often takes abuse, and there are several places where the color is on unintended parts of the armor, from having to don it before the paint dried.
Racial dispositions: He gets along relatively well with Quarians, having a marginally better understanding of them than the average layman; salarians aren’t to be trusted, and turians... that goes poorly.
History: As a middle-of-the-road member of a rather lackluster clan, Turenk hasn’t exactly been on the fast track to fame, fortune, or any way to distinguish himself. It’s not that he’s a poor warrior, quite the opposite. He’s just good enough to be slightly above average (thus subconsciously feeling superior), but not above average enough that someone else doesn’t regularly outshine him (which irks him). So he’s tried a lot of other things to stand out, including writing poetry and sending it en masse to the female camps. This didn’t work, except that many of his clanmates who saw him writing and studying it assumed he was gay. After years of being a short-order cook on Tuchanka and serving greasy fried pyjak, he finally decided to strike out and find work off-world. Following a promise of employment with lots of explosions, he found himself working as a pyrotechnics technician on a TV show - not because of his credentials, but because the producer assumed that because he was krogan, he would know how to blow stuff up. This bit of racism was mitigated by finding a mentor, who actually taught him a few things, before he found a sign-on with the Blood Pack a year or so later. When initially approaching the Blood Pack recruiter, he garnished his credentials, saying that he had a krannt. This lie didn't stand up to basic scrutiny, and he was about to be laughed out of the room when he saw a quarian with an assault rifle walking away from another recruiter. Turenk grabbed the quarian by the arm, hauled him over, and claimed he had been his krannt all along, thus securing them both membership. He served there for about six years. About five years ago, Turenk saved up enough money to see a Batarian doctor under Blood Pack employ who claimed to be able to know the procedure for installing biotic implants in krogans. The capability had always been there, thanks to old-fashioned in utero exposure to engine tailings, but any official biotic-related procedures hadn't been performed in nearly a millennium. The implantation was mostly successful, in that an implant was installed, and Turenk survived; but the first time he tried to use his new abilities, the pain knocked him unconscious. Ever since, the implant has been causing him chronic pain, and he's been saving up again to have it either removed or corrected. Meanwhile, he's developed a dependency on painkillers.
He was once the proud owner of an M-300, but that was before he woke up one night in a motel room on Omega missing that, 500 credits, and his underwear. He got a standard-issue SMG from the merc group and has been using it since, but he still would like to get a "real man's weapon."
Personality: Hobbies include extranet blogging, poetry, painting, and taxidermy. His attitude is more or less as “fatalistic” as any other krogan’s, but it’s complemented by a fragile ego and a desire to prove himself, and an insecurity over his inability to use most pistols. He lives by what he refers to as the "Krogan warrior code," which may or may not just be a series of justifications for his lifestyle choices.
Marketable Skills: Krogan-y things, mostly. His preferred weapons, for the time being, are a Blood Pack SMG and a three-foot battle hammer (the primary features of which are hardened capacitors and some amount of Eezo). He can also “cook” and do demolitions (or at least set things on fire with panache).
- Solace:
Name: Modain Reldivasse Species: Turian Age: 39 Earth years Gender: M Biotic: N
Description: Being a Turian, Modain has the body structure of other Turians, although standing considerably taller than most, at around 7ft 2in. His facial plates look somewhat more angular than other Turians', although he is missing most of the plates on his forehead. His left mandible is also somewhat shorter than it should be, and lacking plates on most of it. His eyes are a light gray-blue, and are set like the average Turian's. He usually wears a heavily plated helmet, mainly designed for blocking blunt force, rather than bullets, although it is still air-tight.. His armor is heavy, colored a deep crimson in a vaguely web-like pattern, with a long, straight case on the left hip, housing a sword of human design. The armor is battered, having seen wear from many years in the Turian military. Perhaps he's held onto it for sentiment? Regardless, it is air-tight and offers good protection, although only somewhat better at stopping bullets than the helmet. It has the same luxuries as any given set of armor, such as kinetic barriers, among other things. His "casual wear" is, in reality, only a slightly lighter set of armor, colored beige, with a cracked chest-piece and no kinetic barriers.
Racial dispositions: Like most Turians, Modain is not exactly fond of krogans, finding them brutish, and not having forgotten the history between the two races. Despite this, he is only cautious toward krogans, as opposed to openly hostile toward them. Other than that, he finds vorcha and volus to be annoying, and he harbors some animosity toward humans. Other than that, he is indifferent to most other races.
History: Turians are a militaristic race, and their young usually begin life the same. Such is the case with Modain Reldivasse. His life was the same as most Turian's. He served until he became of age to be delegated to reserve, and he began to travel the galaxy. His travels took him to all sorts of places. His first major location to visit was Tuchanka.
The ship, old and worn as it was, was reliable, Modain thought to himself. It had gotten him from the Citadel all the way to Tuchanka without more than two near-meltdowns. A new record. His travelling companion, a young Quarian woman by the name of Quil'vos, was handy with the ship's inner-workings as he wasn't. He was best with the weapons, as it tended to be, and he could never calibrate the weapons, what little they were, to fire perfectly. It infuriated him, and when someone with greater mechanical expertise happened to offer him assistance, he gladly accepted. Seeing as they were both trying to accomplish similar goals, her Pilgrimage, and his need to learn about the galaxy, they became traveling companions. It was because of Quil that he hadn't died yet. He hoped he could repay that to her someday. Tuchanka was a wasteland, although it was hardly uninhabited. Krogans were all over the place, if they knew where to find you. The wildlife was a monster of its own, though. Thresher Maws were a great concern if you ever ventured out of krogan inhabited areas. Modain never did. His interests lay with the krogans, not the wildlife, regardless of their similarities.
"Quil, what are you working on, that requires you to make so much noise?" Modain's complaints were quickly silenced when Quil poked her head into the small room. It was a small ship, the only one he could afford if he'd actually wanted to go somewhere, and because of this, there were only three separate rooms. One was the bridge, one was the bunker, or what passed as one, and one was the engineering suite for the weapons. Everything else was accessed by the bridge, considering how small it was. "I am attempting to calibrate the weapons, to see how you could so enjoy it." Her voice, despite the enviro-suit mask, was laced with snark. "That's a lie and we both know it. What are you actually doing?" Modain hadn't slept in what felt like days, and he knew he was close to falling asleep in the pilot's chair, so he went into the bunker to try and sleep. "I will let you know when it is finished, now hush, you are ruining my concentration. I will make an attempt to keep the noise down." This time, as far as Modain could hear, she was sincere. The noise did in fact become a little quieter, but it still wasn't enough. Considering his lack of sleep, he figured monotony would help him rest. So, he began to pick at his left mandible. His hands were dirty, but he didn't have the time to clean them, inbetween piloting the ship and trying to catch a few moments of sleep. They would be at Tuchanka not long from then, and he needed to be well rested for then. Krogan's didn't like it when turians showed up. Especially on their home planet. Eventually, he did manage to drift off to sleep. When he woke again, they were orbiting the krogan homeworld, Tuchanka. It was a bad idea to even go near it if you were a turian, but Modain had to see it at least once up close.
The visit to Tuchanka was uneventful, thankfully. It had been as others described. Desolate, ruined, and filled with things that want you dead. It had been a learning experience, certainly. Seeing the devastation made an impact, but he knew that what the turians did was right. He had seen it with his own eyes, and he had made his judgement. But there was still more to see.
It had been something of interest to him for as long as he knew of the human race. Modain had a certain fascination with the cultures of other species. It was not much different in the case of the humans. He had a particular fascination for them because of their relative recency on the galactic scale. It was because of this, that, on a visit to the Citadel, he came across a piece of human history; an old, worn sword. The man who was selling it spoke of it seeing many a different war back on earth, and he spoke of a culture not unlike the turians. He also spoke of its cost, and his reasons for the sale of such a weapon. He had lost his livelihood as a trader, and his prized possession was all he had to try and rebuild his life. That was why the cost of the blade was, in most cases, would be far too extreme.
A piece of history, to Modain, was worth the price. The purchase left him without much more than a couple credits, and the fuel remaining in the old ship. So, he needed a job. One that would let him see the galaxy, and one that would pay well enough to let him live. So, going to the one place where work was always available, Omega, and parting ways with Quil, allowing her to take what few credits he had left in addition to the ship, and him recieving a gift of a modified helmet from her, she left him in the hive of intergalactic scum to find a job. After only three to five run-ins with thugs who were interested in robbing him of his new blade. He managed to get a pistol off one of them, as he had to sell his own to even have a small amount of credits.
He eventually found work on a merc ship.
(Done, I think.)
Personality: Quiet, but not afraid to talk when the situation calls for it. He feels nothing for killing, although he has no problem with it either. Sometimes he thinks too quickly and jumps to conclusions. He's a bit arrogant, but he's not a horrible person. A bit paranoid sometimes, but he maintains the "turian honor" that most turians have. Well, most of it.
Marketable Skills: He isn't exactly a bad pilot, although he is hardly amazing at it. His preferred method of dealing with a situation is trying to talk it out, but he is fast with his sword and his pistol when a situation can't be resolved with words. Also, intensely curious about other species' cultures and histories.
Last edited by Snowy on Thu 30 Jan 2014, 7:46 pm; edited 11 times in total | |
| | | Patches Advisor
Posts : 2050 Join date : 2011-09-29 Age : 28 Location : PA, USA
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Thu 16 Jan 2014, 8:30 am | |
| I've never played Mass Effect, but this does sound a lot like Firefly to me so therein lies the appeal. Beyond what the thread tells me thus far, is there anything else I should know? | |
| | | Admiral Ji Moderator
Posts : 1450 Join date : 2011-09-30 Age : 29 Location : The 14th floor of the final dungeon
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Thu 16 Jan 2014, 10:38 am | |
| I believe it being a lot like Firefly to be the point myself.
I've got most of a sheet done, won't be finished before I have to leave for work though.
That wiki should probably be able to sum up enough. It might be wise to read up on the history of a few of the species, learn what biotics means, and if you've some preference for being the ship's mechanic, read up on the things like FTL drives and what have you, so as to properly technobabble. | |
| | | Mr Allen J User
Posts : 353 Join date : 2012-04-12 Age : 29 Location : Swag Town
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Thu 16 Jan 2014, 11:33 am | |
| ... .... ..... My body Is ready | |
| | | Snowy Patrician of Ankh-Morpork
Posts : 1564 Join date : 2011-09-29 Age : 33 Location : Bird school, which is for birds.
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Thu 16 Jan 2014, 2:58 pm | |
| - Lieo wrote:
- I've never played Mass Effect, but this does sound a lot like Firefly to me so therein lies the appeal. Beyond what the thread tells me thus far, is there anything else I should know?
Mass Effect Firefly, pretty much. I'm not doing a lot of planning beforehand, because mostly at this point I want to see what sort of game everyone else wants to have, then I'll try to shoot for that. Expect a whole lot of dubious legality. Since we're going in before the games start, you don't need to look up any of their plots. What I'd focus on is some of the tech stuff, like the mass effect and biotics, and also the citadel races. Interracial relations is the big thing to know at this point. Any relevant history will be mentioned on the species' wiki pages, in all likelihood. | |
| | | Balu Common Poster
Posts : 690 Join date : 2011-10-01 Age : 29 Location : Hehe Being forgotten, invisible, and left to my own devices. Bad idea,
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Thu 16 Jan 2014, 7:48 pm | |
| Imitated sadness: But I wanted to be an Elcor.
Sounds pretty awesome
"or at least knows how to set things on fire with panache" Excelent! | |
| | | Admiral Ji Moderator
Posts : 1450 Join date : 2011-09-30 Age : 29 Location : The 14th floor of the final dungeon
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Thu 16 Jan 2014, 10:15 pm | |
| Hey five people, nice, nice.
What's everyone looking at playing?
We have the Krogan...
I'm finishing up a kind of gun-for-hire Quarian, because I play against type. | |
| | | Mr Allen J User
Posts : 353 Join date : 2012-04-12 Age : 29 Location : Swag Town
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Thu 16 Jan 2014, 10:45 pm | |
| I'm either going to be a Quarian, Turian, or Humaaaan. | |
| | | Balu Common Poster
Posts : 690 Join date : 2011-10-01 Age : 29 Location : Hehe Being forgotten, invisible, and left to my own devices. Bad idea,
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Thu 16 Jan 2014, 10:49 pm | |
| I am torn between a Pilot/Navigator Turian or Engineer Drell. Tempted to go after some Engineering, because, well I am what I am. | |
| | | Admiral Ji Moderator
Posts : 1450 Join date : 2011-09-30 Age : 29 Location : The 14th floor of the final dungeon
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Thu 16 Jan 2014, 11:17 pm | |
| As a Quarian attempting to be as distanced from "the designated engineer" as possible, I would appreciate you doing it, yes. A Drell would be fun anyway, eidetic memory ho! | |
| | | Solace Goddark User
Posts : 135 Join date : 2012-05-10 Age : 27 Location : Nowhere.
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Fri 17 Jan 2014, 12:39 am | |
| I do believe I shall join this, although I might be a little odd for posts. Just FYI. | |
| | | Snowy Patrician of Ankh-Morpork
Posts : 1564 Join date : 2011-09-29 Age : 33 Location : Bird school, which is for birds.
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Fri 17 Jan 2014, 12:54 am | |
| What do you mean by "odd"? Just not on much? | |
| | | Solace Goddark User
Posts : 135 Join date : 2012-05-10 Age : 27 Location : Nowhere.
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Fri 17 Jan 2014, 1:13 am | |
| Basically. And, on occasion, my writings will dip in quality from time to time, for various reasons. | |
| | | Admiral Ji Moderator
Posts : 1450 Join date : 2011-09-30 Age : 29 Location : The 14th floor of the final dungeon
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Fri 17 Jan 2014, 10:20 pm | |
| As long as it's not too slow as to be a problem, there shouldn't be an issue.
| |
| | | Snowy Patrician of Ankh-Morpork
Posts : 1564 Join date : 2011-09-29 Age : 33 Location : Bird school, which is for birds.
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Sat 18 Jan 2014, 12:06 pm | |
| Does anyone have a preference for what sort of jobs you'd prefer to take on? | |
| | | Solace Goddark User
Posts : 135 Join date : 2012-05-10 Age : 27 Location : Nowhere.
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Sat 18 Jan 2014, 1:48 pm | |
| Well, I'm someone who likes fighting, so long as it has meaning. I'm not a bandit. I'd think doing just any job we can get would be interesting. | |
| | | Patches Advisor
Posts : 2050 Join date : 2011-09-29 Age : 28 Location : PA, USA
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Sat 18 Jan 2014, 2:45 pm | |
| I need more time to think about it, but don't wait on me. | |
| | | Balu Common Poster
Posts : 690 Join date : 2011-10-01 Age : 29 Location : Hehe Being forgotten, invisible, and left to my own devices. Bad idea,
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Sat 18 Jan 2014, 3:56 pm | |
| I'd like a mix of things. Precious Cargo Transport, Smuggling, Escort, Salvaging, Client Protection. We'd easily come across fighting in those kinds of work. Especially if it dealt with Prothean Artifacts, or weapons, what have you. | |
| | | Admiral Ji Moderator
Posts : 1450 Join date : 2011-09-30 Age : 29 Location : The 14th floor of the final dungeon
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Sat 18 Jan 2014, 9:58 pm | |
| As long as it pays.
No matter what we do, at some point something will need shooting, that's just what being in the lawless frontier of any work of fiction means. Doing things quasi-on-the-level is probably for the best though. Cargo jobs, you know. Occasionally saving someone from the legal and or lethal ramifications of their poor decisions. | |
| | | Snowy Patrician of Ankh-Morpork
Posts : 1564 Join date : 2011-09-29 Age : 33 Location : Bird school, which is for birds.
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Sat 18 Jan 2014, 10:18 pm | |
| Okay, all-arounding, got it. | |
| | | Solace Goddark User
Posts : 135 Join date : 2012-05-10 Age : 27 Location : Nowhere.
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Sat 18 Jan 2014, 11:46 pm | |
| EDIT: Making a completely new character, because the one I had was lame, and unoriginal.
Last edited by Solace Goddark on Sun 26 Jan 2014, 1:17 am; edited 5 times in total | |
| | | Admiral Ji Moderator
Posts : 1450 Join date : 2011-09-30 Age : 29 Location : The 14th floor of the final dungeon
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Sun 19 Jan 2014, 12:36 am | |
| Well unfortunately I'm going to post another Quarian, because I'm tired of staring at it for the last few days and not actually editing it to be any better. Hopefully is not all Quarians, or I can write up a newer character concept. I mean, this Quarian nonsense might get tooooooo terrible.
Also, yours left for pilgrimage hilariously early, considering Tali was 20, which was the age I based my sheet on.
Minor addendum, damn, way too similar... I'll get to considering alternatives...
Name: Bere'Riat Vas Ourship Nar Qwib-Qwib
Species: Quarian Age: 32 Standard Citadel Years Gender: Male
Biotic: No
Racial dispositions: Mostly impartial, feels somewhat guilty around other Quarians, and obviously believes in the total destruction of all Geth forever.
History: Bere's upbringing was somewhat normal for the average Quarian. Much of his early life consisting of staying out of the way, learning how to help keep the ships functioning, and getting ready for the day when it'd be his actual responsibility to serve the greater whole in his people's journey across the stars. Of course all those social skills, skill at minorly fixing things, and watching his marine parents weren't worth much when he reached the age of twenty galactic standard years, and it was time for his pilgrimage.
It began well enough, opting for being dropped off on a relatively close by human colony in the Terminus Systems. He managed to display enough technical competence to help out at a junkyard the colony ran for passing ships, breaking them down into parts to resell, while repairing and refurbishing ships the passersby intended to keep. Of course, Bere would occasionally pocket mostly useless pieces, and stow them for recovery later. These pieces were to be used as a large mass of replacement parts for whatever ship he tried to join when he returned.
However, life in the Terminus Systems is not without risk, as all colonists know when they set out for such life. It was three months into his pilgrimage when a slaver ship descended on the colony. The colony only consisted of about four human families, and their ability to resist militarily was unable to prevent the slavers of the starship ironically named Liberator from capturing most of the colonists, Bere included. His captors had intended to sell him along with the humans to a batarian work camp, when the Asari captain T’Cohi instead decided she could use him as a ship’s engineer instead of as a relatively minor sale. His new life as an enslaved engineer/general mechanic was equal parts terrible and mundane. After managing to ensure the pirates scavenged things resembling the required filters Bere needed to not die, he held the position in relative submission for the following five years, eventually building a minor rapport with the majority of the crew. They eventually began to allow him to exit the ship with the team on away missions. (though always under armed guard, and never armed himself)
Bere never rebelled, he never attempted escape, and with access to communications barred, was never able to call for help. It was this that made him all too trustworthy one fateful day, five years, four months, and six days after his initial capture. It was supposed to be a simple deal, The Liberator had come into a few crates of Red Sand and needed to offload them quickly, unfortunately their buyers were far better armed than they should have been, and entirely untrustworthy. It began with two pistols being drawn and fired, taking down two of the eight (counting Bere) slavers before anyone had time to react. Mere moments later everyone was in cover and engaging in a heated firefight, save for a one Bere’Riat. At least, not until it dawned on him that fire was being opened upon him as well. The thought of dying for his captors was something he could not even consider, and so he crept through the battlefield, rolling and letting his suit’s built in kinetic barriers keep him safe, until he found what he was searching for: A weapon.
Now he’d never actually held a gun, seen them surely, but held, let alone fired? Still, it was his life on the line, and he knew he had to try. The assault rifle he’d found was cheap, low end, and mostly unremarkable, but the kick was still far more than Bere was expecting, however, it was also not nearly enough to stop him as the adrenaline forced him upright and into the firefight. He’d managed two kills of his own that day, before the fight wound its way to the end. He’d managed to get through the fight without a single round ever piercing his shields, mostly due to his nonthreatening appearance as a Quarian. Their attackers had either all died or fled, Bere could not tell which. His side, however, was near entirely destroyed, only the Captain remained standing as well. Unfortunately, she was busy attempting to radio the ship when Bere realized this was his only chance, and he gunned the Asari down where she stood, hardly giving her time to spin around before her barriers failed, and the bullets ripped her flesh. Yes she’d saved him from a life of menial servitude to batarians… but the entire prospect of it, and his life of menial servitude to her crew, were her fault entirely. He felt no remorse that day, now free, as he scavenged the bodies of the fallen. He took credits, pieces of armor, and a radio link, as he headed off deeper into the planet, arranging a pick up with his new found money.
Of course, it was hard to find work in the Traverse and Bere was now equipped for only one job. It wasn’t long before he fell into the life of a freelance merc just to get by. Over the past seven years he’s shot and killed at least a few members of each other sapient species in the galaxy. Mostly spending his credits on living expenses, and saving away bit by bit for a ship of his own.
While out job searching, Bere once accidentally walked into a Bloodpack recruiting office with intent to sign up for a mission. Obviously due to the inherent racism in any system run by krogans, he was nearly rejected when, being tossed out of the room, a rather friendly krogan immediately declared him part of his Krannt. Unsure of what that actually meant, Bere agreed on the grounds that it let him work today, and for a few more months, before he eventually grew tired of the bloodpack’s ruthless and excessive methods, and jumped ship for kinder waters. He made sure to keep in touch with the Krogan he was apparently the Krannt of though, always good to have a Krogan on your side.
Eventually Insert part where I’ve met one other person for group cohesion
Description: Bere, like many Quarians, is relatively thin and wiry compared to the average human. He stands likely 5 foot 8, though a little bit of that comes from the helmet. While little can obviously be ascertained about his actual appearance, the appearance of his suit is what anyone will ever see anyway. It consists mostly of a green layer over the more or less normal grey bits, standard as one would find on any Quarian, . The helmet’s visor is a light blue, which unfortunately makes it somewhat harder to track the light reflecting off of his eyes. His most immediately striking features are the aftermarket upgrades he’s been undertaking upon said suit. Assorted bits of armor, some human, some turian, and even a small section of a krogan pauldron, dot across his suit in strategic points to help prevent his actually being injured, a costly and very unfortunate event for a species that doesn’t tend to suffer horribly when exposed to outside contaminants, let alone a Quarian. The armor bits are a rather pale yellow, seemingly chipping after a long time between repaintings. In light of several unfortunate tripping incidents sustained while serving aboard The Liberator, with its occasional grated flooring, Bere actually wears steel-toed boots instead of skin tight foot coverings, in order to prevent vital, yet tragically long and spindly body parts slipping through unfortunate holes in the ground.
Personality: Bere is fairly open and sociable, something most Quarians learn to do as a reflex to make up for lost body language. His tendency for somewhat rash action when given the option has earned him more than a few enemies, but he endeavors to remain fairly pleasant and likeable to be around. While willing to kill, he somewhat regrets the way his life has gone, and longs for the day he can buy his own ship, and sail back to the Migrant Fleet as Captain Riat.
Marketable Skills: Owing to seven years of successfully not dying as a mercenary, Bere is reasonably skilled at straight up firefights, sneaking around the back, and generally causing military mayhem. As part of spending twenty years as a Quarian in the migrant fleet, and an extra five serving aboard a rundown slaver vessel, he is reasonably good at hitting it with a wrench until it works again, but he is hardly engineer material for a ship that has the option. He also considers himself reasonably good at this new fangled human game of poker, and a fairly decent dancer. Not that he’ll give anyone reason to confirm the latter. | |
| | | Snowy Patrician of Ankh-Morpork
Posts : 1564 Join date : 2011-09-29 Age : 33 Location : Bird school, which is for birds.
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Sun 19 Jan 2014, 2:55 am | |
| So, is the blood stain in the shape of a hand, a face, or some new alien species whose hands look like their faces? :P
I trust you two can hash out between yourselves how to distinguish your characters from one another, because I am seeing a lot of similarities.
Ji is tentatively accepted, pending any changes either of you want to make.
Solace, I'll wait until you're done editing. If you've ever seen Farscape, your character vaguely reminds me of Stark; might be a bit of inspiration there? Though, anyone who lets that character on a ship would have to be crazy themselves, since it seems his odds of shooting the target and turning on the crew are even.
Last edited by Snowy on Sun 19 Jan 2014, 11:18 am; edited 1 time in total | |
| | | Admiral Ji Moderator
Posts : 1450 Join date : 2011-09-30 Age : 29 Location : The 14th floor of the final dungeon
| Subject: Re: Mass Effect: Hired Guns Sun 19 Jan 2014, 10:27 am | |
| Well aside from a few superficial details, they seem to be entirely different characterwise. Kind of like if you had to make chefs, for a game about chefs, some things are going to come up similar, but as long as they are still somewhat visually distinct and can be expected to act differently, its fine. | |
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