Name: Tasi Vas Nedas (Previously Teil'Korah Nar Morah)
Race: Quarian
Class: Infiltrator
Age: 46
Sex: Male
Appearance: Standing at but an inch over five feet with a build considered slim even by his kin, Tasi is hardly an imposing figure to see- And is, in fact, incredibly easy to miss entirely when in any sort of crowd. His enviro-suit lacks entirely in any color or personalization on the exterior, appearing as if it was taken straight off of the production line without a lick of color added. The fibers and metal, while well taken care of, have clearly seen quite a bit of wear and tear. Over it all, he wears a ragged looking cloak of tech-fibers, the clasp that holds it closed around his neck also connected by several wires to his suit, suggesting functions that require an external battery.
Should one get a glimpse through the polarized visor of his suit, they would find a face that was likely fairly handsome, by Quarian standards- But is now weathered by age and hardship. One side appears to have been badly cut at some point, as if his visor was shattered and damaged his face in the process. One eye, on the same side, seems to have been blinded by the incident.
(Image: Seen without his cloak.)
Psyche Profile: Tasi is a very withdrawn and quiet man- He does not speak often, and what he does say is usually profoundly sarcastic, or incredibly vague. This leads many to believe he's just an asshole- And frankly, he is. However, he has his reasons for this lack of proper communication. Due to his past, Tasi finds the very idea of interacting with people on a personal level to be terrifying, and so he does his best to push them away. Despite this, he maintains a professional working attitude, and holds a firmly positive reputation as a hired gun, to those who may know the trade.
Skills: Long-Range Combat Specialist Reconnaissance Training Counter-Sniping Training Basic Medical Training Fire-Arms Engineering Experience
Powers: Tactical Cloak (Modified) Sabotage Ammo Powers
Backstory/Sample Post (Two birds, one stone.):
Teil panted for breath, crouched low with his back pressed to the counter behind him. Clutching a stolen Holo-disk close to his chest, he let his head rest back for a moment, eyes squeezed shut. How had this gone so haywire, so quickly? All he had wanted was something to bring home for his Pilgrimage, some knowledge to help the fleet... It was all the fault of that bosh'tet of a mercenary. The doctor has medicine that could help restore Quarian immune systems, he said! Of course he'd failed to mention that this 'doctor' was a complete psychopath.
He was ripped from his thoughts as he heard a crash behind him, body going rigid. That sounded close... He could practically hear the doctor's breathing, desperately holding his own so as to not make a sound. Then came the voice- Tail had never thought a Salarian could sound so thoroughly terrifying. "My research... Mine, mine, mine! You can't have it... No, nobody can! Not ready, not ready.... Maybe? No, not ready... Unless.... Bah! GIVE IT BACK!"
Teil could hear the doctor searching, looking under equipment, shifting things around in his search for Teil. Slowly, he dared to peek out around the corner of his cover, praying the doctor's back might be turned so that he could get away. He had no such luck, finding himself face to face with the Salarian's wild, strange eyes the moment his head moved out from behind that cover. The doctor's lips pulled back into a sick grin, even as Teil scrambled backwards with a choked scream, unable to find his footing in his fear.
"There it is, the sneaky thief! Sneaky? Sneaky! You can't HAVE IT!" Spit flew past his lips with the scream, as he approached rapidly- raising a syringe over his head, preparing to stab down at Teil with it. "But I can give it to you! Yes, yes, it has to be tested, it does! Can't be ready... Have to be sure."
With his arms upraised to defend himself, the last things Teil remembered were the sharp pain in his arm as the needle pierced his flesh- And the sound of two loud gunshots.
Hours later, he awoke strapped to a seat in a small ship, the haze slowly clearing from his eyes to leave him peering out of a small view-port at the stars rushing past, distorted by the FTL speeds of the ship. He groaned weakly, head throbbing and arm burning something awful. The needle! Immediately, he struggled against his restraints, panicked grunts leaving his lips as he tried to pull himself free to inspect his arm. Who knew what sort of awful infection he may have been given... Then, he froze, feeling a hand on his shoulder and hearing a familiar voice. The mercenary... The one that had sent him to the doctor in the first place!
"Woah, woah, calm down kid! You were seizing, so I tied you down- You're on my ship. I'm taking you to the flotilla, understand?"
The words, despite his fear, his confusion, were comforting. He remembered, vaguely, muttering a thank you before drifting back into the welcoming darkness of unconsciousness.
When next he woke, Teil found himself laying down, staring up into the bright lights of a medical bay. For a few moments, all seemed normal, and he relaxed. He knew those lights, knew this place- The Morah. He was home, he was safe. And then, he looked to his left, eyes widening beneath his visor. Standing beside him was not the doctor he had known as a boy- It was a monster, twisted, grotesque, and awful. He screamed, lashing out on instinct. The monster stumbled back, garbled sounds, some sort of twisted language he did not know, coming from it. Scrambling on the table beside his bed, he grabbed the sharpest tool he could find, lunging forward and burying it deep into this twisted visage's head, over and over. It fell to the ground, taking Teil with it, and he kept stabbing, screaming curses in his terror.
It was only minutes later, when a pair of marines were dragging him kicking and struggling out of the medical bay, that he saw what he had not seen before- The mangled corpse, not of a monster, but of another Quarian, his visor shattered, his suit punctured by dozens of stab wounds, leaving him a bloody, broken mess- The scalpel with which he'd slain his nightmare still stuck firmly in his throat. Choking out a sob, Teil went limp, letting himself be dragged away.
The following months were spent in terror and solitude for the young Quarian. It was clear he had not been in his right mind- He remembered, vaguely, the Captain ordering that he be restrained and given a full examination. Between the awful hallucinations, and the nightmares that plagued him constantly, he remembered the words of his doctors. A parasite, wrapped tightly around his spinal cord. Impossible to remove... Its species, its origin, unknown. But Teil knew- The Salarian's syringe. That must have been it.
After weeks of toil, a solution was found for him- A sedative, to be injected twice a day. It kept the parasite dormant, at the very least. But, the loss of the parasite's influence did not save him. He saw, constantly, the face of the doctor he'd so brutally slaughtered. His friend, his kin- Dead by his hand.
Some days later, Teil grabbed his doctor by the arm as the man moved to leave him be after his latest shot, staring at him hard. "Please... Take me to the Captain."
Hours later, he was watching the Morah slowly fade into the distance from his small, borrowed shuttle to the nearest planet. A self imposed exile, to atone for his sin. He could not stay there, knowing what he had done. He was nobody, now. Tasi.... Tasi vas Nedas.
Notes: Tasi's name translates to "Nobody, crew of Nowhere", taken by choice as part of his self imposed exile.
Tasi has had a long time to tinker with his equipment. His rifle has seen the brunt of this- Modified for maximum range and round speed, it is capable of firing once before requiring a cool down- Favoring venting over thermal clips due to this. Its range and the speed of its rounds far out class most rifles, at the cost of a neat five second cooling time between shots.
Likewise, he has altered his Tactical Cloak to interface with his -actual- cloak. Running off of an external battery, he can maintain a cloaked state for up to an hour; However, -any- movement breaks the cloak, and without the physical garment, he is unable to utilize the ability.
Tasi is straight, but his illness and fear of interpersonal interaction lead to a nonexistent love life. He doesn't really expect this to change.