Personality: Bubbly, excitable, and always so full of energy. She is ever curious about new technology and people alike, and will always try to figure both out with such a focused conviction that she tends to lose sight of her original goals.
Born into your average otter family, Rishun spent her days learning about agriculture and oceanograhy, on the south of Solernia, her family claiming one island off the coast less than a mile in diameter. But despite her ability to learn, she soon found her love for technology much more engaging than even the waves which her birth made her love unconditionally.
She soon found herself in the fast track through school, excelling at all subjects linked to computers and science, though she would be considered a flunk for language classes. But in most cases otters are given more slack. On a whole Otters learn several dialects of their own shorthand language out of tradition.
And so Rishun graduated among the top in her class for computer science and coding. But for her future....nowhere else handled the latest than the military. So, against her family's wishes she enlisted and became one of the rare otters to wear the Solernia military uniform.
Hobbies & Interests: tinkering, fiddling with coding, creating little technological toys that seemed to have a life of their own. But above all else she had a pure joy for swimming at any opportunity. To the point where she wil research the nearest body of water she could swim in if she is given leave.
A case of mini bots that have the ability of flight and with small grippers, and they number six in total, and the case is a charging station along with a computer with programs to change their function. It can be slung across her back and secured like any military backpack across the chest and waist.
A harness hooked around her waist and down her thick otter tail that housed a dozen graphene batteries, which are connected to a series of sockets to the belt around her waist. She can plug in most devices and power them for as long as her batteries hold out.
Weaponry, she carries a stun baton on her hip as well as a standard issue pistol, though she is always tinkering with different forms of ammo for it.
A technological Omni-tool, kitted with wirecutters, a multimeter, several physical wire adapters, a smaller version of the drill found on normal Omni-tools, and a few reversible bits to fit the first several most common screw heads.
A pebble, with some pretty intensive software protection additions, along with a port for a wire input.
Alongside her for most adventures and missions is Scrap. This little marvel is Rishun's personal pride and joy, the culmination of several years effort since grade school. In the design of a flying squirrel, Scrap is a highly developed little robot with the computational power of a high end computer, able to glide with webbed polymer folds between its limbs, and climb at a speed of about 6 mph. Scrap doesn't carry any weaponry of its own. He has sockets to connect to, and a power supply that keeps him active for 48 hours without recharging.
The language is flowing and does not have a stop point until the thought ends or the otter take as a breath. There are no periods.
Speaking it is guttural and from the back of the throat, combined with chirps and yips that lip almost every word. It is difficult to grasp tones unless one hears it for long periods of time in different ways.
It is formed from shorthand words, so generally words are reused for different meanings in the very same sentence. It is why no one really tries to pick up on speaking Ottrean. Too many dialects and different uses for the same words, that you need to be raised hearing the different intents to speak it properly.
Yhe=Confirmation Ney=negative Generally Yhe is used alone, but Ney is used in junction with Yhe. "Yheney" is like 'cannot' for instance. Aah'khkh=Greeting Kh'langhoa=Thank you, to give thanks. Gyu'ook+upturned palms=a formal apology Chikhousx=realization Muyn= noun is food, as a verb 'to eat' Uukhma=Ottrean, generalized term for otters regardless of subspecies. Zlikh=power, energy. Can be used as verb. Garth=Half, to split or separate. Yunka=Time. Shoamhien: engineer, verb or noun. Siikh: Move, to move something or make something move. Quuradey: A population center. A village/town/city. Qyii'eekh: Safe, to give safety.
Compound words: Qyii'radey:Home. Literal: Safe center. Mix of safe and population center.
Appearance: Left eye missing and covered by black leather patch; right eye red-brown. Scar across bridge of muzzle. Left ear nicked and torn. Heavy scarring across left side of body, with several smaller scars in other places. Left arm replaced by highly functional prosthetic arm comprised of black-and-white bioplastic. Silver-grey, fairly thick and somewhat shaggy/grizzled fur with off-white on chest, throat and lower muzzle. Longer 'ruff' of fur around throat/neck. Black markings on muzzle, black ears. Darker grey lower right arm and lower legs, black tail tip. Thick, unruly neck-length brown hair with prominent grey peppered through, especially around temples. Fighting fit, and relatively well-muscled (more of a runner/swimmer build than a body-builder), though age is starting to catch up with him and soften the edges of his trim lines.
Height: 5' 7"
Weight: 130kg
Personality: Positive Personality Traits: Compassionate, Loyal, Selfless, Protective, Warm Negative Personality Traits: Reckless, Cocky, Easily Provoked, Too Trusting, Bitter Likes: Whiskey, Classic Rock music, Reading books (mostly sci-fi and military thrillers), Hiking, Climbing. Dislikes: Large Crowds, Cheap (and weak) beer, Large Cities, Having to prove or justify himself, Bureaucracy.
Silverwind has had an eventful life, but despite this he maintains a somewhat laid-back and calm personality. He has an amicable nature, and is friendly to most people unless given reason otherwise. He is especially loyal to those who act as friends to him and support him, and one another. He has no time for those who are bullies, and pick on those who cannot defend themselves, or who have worked hard to get what they have. Arrogance, greed, and callousness do not impress him, and he will be cold and distant to such people, or even outright refuse to be civil with them, or mocking them openly for their negative traits and flaws. He will relish opportunities to take down such petty and selfish opponents, and will feel no remorse for their loss. Equally should anyone turn on him, he will have no mercy, sympathy or compassion for them, and will be especially cold to them. He is open to making friends, but past events have left him with a high level of anxiety and doubt over making new friends and letting them get too close. This rings even more true for any romance or thought of love. He trusts very few people in the military, beyond a handful due to his past experiences, though he remains loyal to the Princess and the Solernian Royal Family.
History: Silver was born in a small settlement in the interior of Solernia. He lived a fairly carefree and simple childhood, and enjoyed outdoor past-times, and getting into mischief. He had a few good friends, and a stable home life. Unsure of what he wanted to do with his life, he joined the RSDF after seeing a parade and display of GEARs on a trip to the capital, and becoming infatuated with the machines. He was successful in training, though struggled with authority at many turns, as well as getting into a fight with another cadet of a higher 'social status' than him that looked down on him for his 'lesser' position and lack of knowledge and understanding. Despite this setback, he carved out a notable career, rising to command a GEAR unit known as the Roughriders, and gaining a reputation for many successful operations, won by guts, daring, the skin of his teeth and bravery. He bent orders and regulations to do what he saw as the 'right' thing, often earning him ire from his superiors, though a grudging respect. He also gained a reputation for never leaving his men behind, and always being on their side. His career was so successful that his sister, Juliana, followed in his footsteps and enlisted, becoming an aerospace pilot. Eventually assigned to Special Operations command, he was put in command of the Roughriders, a special forces unit. The Roughriders became his second family, especially after his parents died in a tragic accident. He and Juliana came together to mourn, and after his return to service he found himself becoming romantically entangled with Iriana, a member of his unit. The unit became especially successful and received many commendations for their service, and eventually this came to be a problem - special forces units that are too well-known about have trouble remaining undetected and stealthy. While Silverwind was never boastful, he was proud of all his unit had achieved, and knew that by working together his unit could achieve amazing things. Nonetheless, his unit was destroyed on a classified operation, with only he and his third-in-command, Meyer, surviving. Both of them were heavily injured. Silverwind retired from service at the time, while Meyer went on to service in an advisroy training role. He lived in quiet isolation and peace in the countryside, keeping in contact with his sister, a handful of other relatives, and a few people he met locally. Upon the formation of the 33rd and it's mission, Silverwind was invited to command the unit by an old friend, General Versco who was still part of the RSDF and was involved in his surviving the mission that obliterated his unit, and caused the mass of injuries he suffered that lead to his early retirement from active service five years prior. Full details of this mission remained classified by Royal Decree. After much coaxing and discussion, he eventually agreed.
Hobbies & Interests: Silverwind is a man of few and simple pleasures; he enjoys whiskey, good food, the outdoors and the company of good people... especially women. He also enjoys classic rock music and reading books.
Personal Gear & Equipment:
Pebble
GEAR pilot suit and helmet
Personal first aid kit
Personal survival kit
K8 Combat Knife
M61 Combat Revolver with LAM unit
M23 MRS in Battle Rifle configuration w/4x optical red-dot, flashlight, laser pointer/designator optional suppressor and underbarrel grenade launcher
Appearance: Fionn is a very large individual compared to others with thick dark brown fur and a strip of light brown fur running down the back. The length of his fur can give him a puffy appearance concealing his actual strength. The most discerning feature would be a black marking of several interwoven knots on his upper chest, both a reminder of his culture and a symbol of his beliefs.
Height: 2.3 m or roughly 7’ 6” Weight: 265kg or roughly 584 lbs.
Personality: Despite his size, he has a quiet and empathetic personality. He is slow to make friends, but those he considers one earns his respect and loyalty. Normally calm and reserved, few things incite anger in him (such as his friends being in danger). He is rarely seen smiling, rather adopting a stoic expression at almost all times. The trait he holds more value in above all others is loyalty, in this regard he will dutifully serve his country and his unit even when detrimental to himself.
History: Fionn had a decent life. He always had food, a roof over his head, and (largely in part to his size) rarely had problems with others. He always made decent grades in school, not particularly great but better than average. He had no friends, but that never bothered him. He was always fine with solitude. Indeed, he had little to complain about, and yet he still felt a void in himself.
Throughout his past, he never really felt happiness. Only content at best. There was something missing, there had to be right? Others seemed to feel happiness, but it was a foreign concept to him. With the empty feeling in his soul, it was appearant that it needed to be filled with something. Fionn was wise enough to realize turning to alcohol, drugs, and other such pleasures would only offer temporary relief at best. That would mean recurring indulgences and forming an addiction. He would need something more permanent.
He felt he was simply missing a purpose. That he never had a place where he felt he belonged. To him, it seemed the best choice was to join the military. His nation gave much to him, so it also seemed right he give back with his life if need be. At the very least, it should serve a distraction from the melancholy. Hobbies/Interests: A bit of an Armchair philosopher, he spends a lot of time quietly pondering the nature of things. He also enjoys reading fiction, with a preference in Horror and Sci-Fi, and trying to figure out the worldview in them. At times when the stresses of life start to get to him, he likes to go out and last nature with little more than a knife and his pebble (to read a novel or two) for days at a time.
Personal gear/Equipment:
GEAR suit and helmet
RI MT-A1 Thumper Grenade Launcher w/ 6 round revolver cylinder
Appearance Vonys is rather unassuming in her general appearance, bearing no distinguishing features that set her apart from the rest of her species. Tell tale marks and scars adorn her horns in great number, proof of combat, and the kind of hard hardheadedness that an Ibex would typically display. The pair curls grandly over her head, giving the woman the appearance of added height and bulk. Thickly laid fur covers her body, from head to hoof and takes on a trademark wispy look around her fetlocks.
Like all of her kind, Vonys' chin is adorned with a beard and if left unattended it grows tremendously thick much like the hair on her head, lending her the appearance of a mane. Much to her eternal chagrin, Vonys' work requires her to keep her beard trimmed to avoid any mishaps. It's about he greatest shame an Ibex can face.
Growing up in the mountains isn't easy, and it promotes the sort of lifestyle that Weekend Warriors could only dream of. A lifetime spent hiking up and down rocky slopes, and bounding across crags has instilled a deep enjoyment of physical activity in Vonys, and it shows plainly in her physique. A smattering of scars covers her well-muscled frame, some the typical result of a life of Active Duty, but most standard fare for mishaps found only in the wilderness.
A noticeably deep voice accompanies the woman's elegant speech. Often giving her words a greater sense of gravitas than others.
Vonys is known to be both fiercely ambitious and intelligent, and at first glance seems to be rigid in her bearing and possesses a rather cool demeanor. Past outward glances she has proven to be both patient and kind, speaking openly with any that would ask for her time. Her brusque nature is by her own admission, somewhat off putting to others, but there is little doubt to the earnestness of her words and nature. Vonys has little desire to lie, for better or for ill, instead only offering her words with a curt sincerity, leaving the other party to make of them what they will.
Despite her outwardly disinterested mannerisms, Vonys believes fully in the potential of others and takes great pains to nurture that potential to the fullest in all that she comes into contact with. Anyone can refine themselves into something greater if they have the drive to do so, and Vonys would rather potential be brought to fruition rather than wasted.
Of course, that is to her own benefit more than anyone else's. Vonys didn't get to the top just by playing nice. Potential is only good if it's being directed in the manner that she sees fit. If that same talent is being used against her, then there's no kindness to be found. Instead it's considered an obstacle to whatever goals she may have at the time and it serves no purpose other than to be disposed of in short order. Vonys values efficiency more than anything, and is ultimately a creature of routine. Not wont to change her methods for any reason, save for the most dire of circumstances Vonys is firm in her belief that a solid and well practiced method is far better than an overly quick one.
Nothing worthwhile has ever been earned through haste, and Vonys embodies this in her seemingly boundless patience. She approaches tasks and decision making carefully, not wanting to worsen things with snap decisions. This in turn makes her slow to act in many cases. But each choice the woman makes can be felt long after the deed is done.
That limitless patience, however hides a deep rooted vindictiveness within the woman. All slights, no matter how small are committed to Vonys' memory. Never forgotten and allowed to fester within her heart. She weighs each crime, internally compiling a list of offenses for one and all. The higher the count grows, the harder she works against her foes.
Never one to shirk duty, the woman finds a lack of motivation to be a great offense. A person should always be able to find it in themselves to be useful. Sitting around and waiting for Life or Death to do its thing doesn't sit right with her. A percieved lack of direction, or even cowardice in many instances will earn no love from Vonys
History Ambition had always resided within Vonys. Gnawing at her insides, and driving the woman forward ceaselessly. The entirety of her life was not dictated by the hopes that filled little girls the world over. But an all consuming desire to achieve.
Needless to say, she was a nightmare in the schoolyard.
Much of her childhood was spent roaming the forests and craggy hills close to her home. The small township Vonys called her home was situated north of the Estridar mountains, and in typical fashion only produced hardy folk. She wasn't the only child let loose to roam those wilds, running, playing and climbing the rocky slopes at the base of the mountain range. A fall for an Ibex child wasn't usually a matter of concern, but it could not be the same for all children.
Vonys understood, that even from a young age that some people were more prone to accidents than others, and rather than laugh at their misfortune the way some did, she saw it as her responsibility to assist them. Perhaps it was an innate desire to help others, or perhaps it was due to the fact that young Lorette referred to herself as 'King' of the mountains and saw it as a Ruler's responsibility. Nobody could really say.
She'd started carrying bandages, and other essentials needed to tend to the scrapes and bruises children received when roughhousing, and tended to the smalls hurts that the other children complained of. Such was her dedication, that other children would go so far as to approach her outside of their games. On the streets, or at school, some even visiting her at her home. Her Father surmised that she should perhaps learn some basic first aid, to better assist her efforts. Vonys' efforts and even minimal knowledge at the time, did put adult minds at ease, knowing that at least someone was being responsible while the neighborhood children were out roving the wilderness.
Despite the joy of traipsing aimlessly through the woods with other children, Vonys enjoyed camping with her Father more than anything in the world. Forays into the wilderness soon became more than simply joyful trips with a loved one. They became lessons in bush-craft, survival and first aid. Something within Vonys had been drawn to the forefront of her consciousness during those early years, a feeling of contentment that led to a certainty that she was meant to do this more than anything else.
It was not a hard path to follow when she bothered to look back on her decisions. Professionals versed in not only survival in the wilderness, but on site first aid were in high demand in the area. Schooling was a moot point as you really only needed a High school Diploma to become certified for SAR. Ever the overachiever, and never one to put her eggs all in one basket, Vonys did attend college, majoring in Environmental Sciences.
Being a Park Ranger did very much come with all the enjoyment that Vonys expected, but it was not long before that ever present itch within her flared once more to life. The desire to do more, to be more.
The Solernia Military seemed as good a fit as anything else. SAR and Combat Medics were as in high demand within the Royal Military as anywhere else. Vonys had the experience, and she wasn't lacking on the physical requirement end of things. She certainly had the drive, and with that firmly in mind there was nothing to stop her.
Engagements blurred into each other, along with the years that bore them. Time passed as it ever did, and it sometimes seemed that for every still breathing person that Vonys could pull from the wreckage of their vehicle, or tend to in the wilds, there were still more that she simply couldn't save.
It was nerve wracking, and horrifying, and humbling. All of her know how, her skill, her drive, it was nothing in the face of the her charge's looming demise. Had she been a different person, a person more prone to despair, or simply one smart enough to see things as they were Vonys might have given up. She might have taken those losses, those missteps and gone home. Back to the forests and mountains, and stayed there forevermore.
But that something. That incessant gnawing deep within her chest refused to quit, and the all consuming stubbornness that Vonys' line was known for took hold.
She offered the dead and dying no platitudes, no flowery words or false assurances as she worked. Only a comfortable efficiency, and the honesty that she felt they deserved. No more, but never anything less. And indeed that cold logic earned her no shortage of disdain from some, but to the dying therein they found some relief. When everything she had fell short, Vonys offered a stern stability to the injured. A small comfort against the dark, but a comfort all the same.
"I cannot change your fate. Only ensure that you go to meet it on your own terms."
Hobbies & Interests -Drawing and Painting. -Fine Cheeses. -Rock Climbing (Obviously.) -Video Games. (RPG's are her favorite. A good, immersive story is a must.)
Personal Gear & Equipment - Personal first aid kit - Personal survival kit - K8 Combat Knife -Pebble -Multi-Tool - M8 Personal Defense System
Appearance: Leslie, like many in her family, is covered in a series of white spots on brown fur, though she has a few large patches of black fur on her forearms and back of the neck. Her face is solid brown save for a white fringe around her lips. She clearly works out, and anyone that sees her in plainclothes will easily spot how toned she is. This compliments her taller than average hieght, though she is not one to bulk up in strength training.
Height:5'11" Weight: 180lbs
Personality: Leslie is always on the lookout for potential problems, and how to deal with said problems. Between her training as both a GEAR pilot and handling explosives and other equipment, her natural focus, discipline, and meticulousness have served her well so far, and her ambition for promotions means that she holds her behavior to a high standard.
History: The Sobero family have been in the mining industry for over four generations. Starting as a group of brothers operating out of a shed, the Sobero Corporation has become a powerhouse of the Solernian economy. From the tunnels that connect the nation to the Republic of Felaria to the iron that makes the rebar in countless buildings, there is no corner of the country that has not been touched by the Sobero Corporation. This meant that Leslie wanted for nothing growing up, from the best schooling to finest food to the most comfortable clothes.
As the only daughter and youngest of 6 children, she was treated more like a doll to be pampered than a person, and she loathed it. When she asked for a burger from a fast-food joint that her classmates liked, she got a gourmet version made by a celebrity chef with the finest of organic ingredients. One day before school she mentioned wanting to see a new movie with friends, and when she came home a copy had already been delivered to the family's theater for her private viewing pleasure a week early. She said she wanted to go camping, and her family made sure that their campground still had a full compliment of staff on hand even as far as having someone make the s'mores for her. In short, she was almost as smothered as a canary in a coal mine.
This wasn't helped by her own natural determination, which further made her chafe against the coddling. While she didn't have the natural academic or athletic gift of others, she made up for it with sheer drive. When she received her first bicycle, she was able to switch to two wheels within a month of practice, despite countless bruises and scrapes. She even went as far as to practice after dark by putting her bike on a treadmill, much to the alarm of the help. This soon developed into a competitive streak that meant that she more than held her own in many a school competition her parents signed her up for. This didn't go unnoticed on her parents, who were already talking about how she would be a natural businesswoman, fit to help guide the company to even further greatness, once she went to the university of their choice.
However, she had to disappoint them. Even though she held no ill will towards her family for the strong guidance, the military called to her. The egalitarian nature of the organization and the chance to see more of the world appealed to a girl that had been treated with padded gloves her entire life. It was a place where she could prove herself from the start, and gain respect naturally and organically. Her family name meant little. If she got into trouble it would be on her to deal with the consequences and, most importantly, any she could say that this was something she chose to do entirely on her own.
Signing up for Combat Engineering training, she worked her tail off to be in the top of her class. The day she earned her stripes was easily her proudest. With her attitude, it was going to be a fast track to promotion up the chain of command. However, she was disappointed. It took over a year of waiting and near constant drilling to receive her first major mission, and she is more than eager to prove herself.
Hobbies & Interests: - Music, especially electronica - Fine Art and paintings - Puzzles, brainteasers, and riddles - Performance vehicles, especially cars
Personal Gear & Equipment:
GEAR Pilot suit and helmet
Pebble
Powered Omni Tool
Multi-tool
M23, Carbine Configuration, Laser sight, and reflex sight
M8 Pistol
M2 Combat Knife
Folding Entrenching Tool
Personal Survival Kit
Remote Explosive Breaching Charges
Grenade pouch with a mix of fragmentation, smoke, and flashbang grenades
Max has the long, wild mane that comes with being a lion- yet his almost gives him the look of a surfer or a biker rather than a special forces reconnaissance operator. Even for a lion, he's clearly let it go as his own taste. His golden-brown mane wraps thickly around his head and chin to past his neck, Max occasionally braiding his hair into Faerie Lock-styles when he feels like really pissing off his CO. His face is stoic, with staring golden-green eyes that are almost cold to the work he does, a strong chin and a deep scar running along the left side of his face by the side of his mane that extends to his ear. He has no spots of note, but his scar and particular mane make him stick out from afar. If you ask him about his messy look, he's unlikely to give you a response that is constructive.
Max also stands taller than many other lions of his size, and than any in his family. Whilst skinnier, he is well built, with multiple cuts and bruises across his body. With a golden-pale furry skin from paw to paw, he also has a short tail with a golden-black brush, the one thing he despises as a marksman for his aim. His training in the special forces, and his wanderlust have made him into an excellent athlete- though not as cardiovascularly fit as Vonys, yet not as physically capable as Fionn, somewhere between. While his skill may be in distant shooting, his close-quarters capability is potent and fierce, being more than willing to get himself in the way of a fight. It explains a lot of the recent bruises/cuts he's received- he doesn't exactly shy away when the time comes.
His voice is oddly silky and deep given his posh upbringing, yet can become gruff when on the frontline- capable only second to Fionn in timbre and volume, perhaps coming quire close when he roars. It holds a predominantly as as something between an Africaans and a southern English accent- a very weird blend even for Solernia. Unlike Fionn, his wroth is used far more often and has a bark to it- a lion's roar is not easily ignored.
Likes: Wisdom. Bravery. Freedom/Individuality. Humour/Laughter. Dislikes: Laziness. Arrogance. Jumped up Officers. Rules. Adhering to Order. Fears Helplessness
Max appears to fall into many a trait of a lion- an almost recklessly brave, intelligent individual, who seems to not understand his flaws are from his strengths. Max's Special Forces history has clearly made him able to do anything, anywhere, anyhow and just be himself- a freeflowing agent of chaos who is quite literally lionhearted, almost to a fault. As a typical lion, he has a very strong personality yet has a want to be social and get on with people- though only if this doesn't come at the cost of his personal aims and ambitions, unlike much of Arvaran culture.
This makes him aloof at times and prone to avoid people, sometimes a little confused of the typical order of things and combined with his wisdom and intelligence, makes him either distrusting or very loyal to those around him he calls friends. He will get things done no matter what, and while patient in his work as an operator, he won't hesitate to go above and beyond to get the job done by any means required- a trait further enhanced by his risk-taking attitude. War has clearly changed him- his stare is cold, and he seems very direct, moreso than he used to be when he was younger as a result of being involved in conflict- one could almost suggest it was like some form of PTSD. His constantly driven, direct, brave and no-bullshit approach has made him perhaps more self-interested than he ought to be, albeit with an overall motive and ability to do what is right for the people close to him. While he can laugh, it is sometimes hard for some people to get close to Max- his wroth certainly doesn't help when his patience snaps.
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History:
Born to an aristocratic father and a Doctor for a mother in the sunny south of Solernia, Max had it well to do when he was growing up- as the third son of five children he given a stable and happy upbringing. He had an otherwise quiet childhood,and left with school above average grades. Yet of his siblings, he wasn't the most intelligent- his brothers and sisters in the Bastion family (Helen (35), Talisa (33), Felix (27) and Sam (23)) became architects, lawyers, accountants and a Doctoral researcher respectively in the end. Max was a black sheep, so to speak- even despite his good upbringing, he just wasn't going to live up to his siblings success.
In youth, he found himself far adventurous than others- wanting to rebel against his parents and society in general. The sandy beaches of southern Solernia and the beating sun gave him summers spent surfing, joining moped gangs and anything that would give him more adventure. He wanted purpose, meaning, reason- a third child had to find one, and he found it in places most didn't seek to look. As capable as he was, he had no discipline, and just nothing but shenanigans on his mind.
He got into trouble with the police every so often but unknowingly to him, was bailed out by his parents more times than he really should have been and was straightened into line- put into the Royal Solernian Defence Force as a reservist to give him something to do that wasn't causing mischief. He studied Solernian History at university, graduating with good grades- yet was targeted from the outset by the Forces, who took him on as a reservist. He had no life plans, so when a career in the Defense Forces beckoned and appealed to his inner adventurer, he couldn't wait to take it on- becoming a full-time infantryman in the RSDF. And from there, he found purpose.
With experience in more and more peacekeeping deployments, Max was eventually trained in the RSDF Special Operations Forces two years in, relishing the opportunity to learn and develop with something that took his playful and resourceful manner to hand. He learned how to pilot a GEAR, learning in particular how to use it in a versatile way rather than any specialist manner that would pay off for him in him in his role as a recon operative- always outgunned and needing to be ready for anything.
It seemed that the young, free spirited university graduate had given way to something far colder and darker. A lion doesn't often make a good infiltrator, or recon operator- yet Max, in his own way, made it his own. He was seen as an excellent reconnaissance specialist, able to cope alone and in putting himself in harm's way when needed with an aggressive strategy rather than a passive and quiet method. Most would have crumbled- but Max appeared to be very, very good at his job and taking lives in cold blood from afar or up close and completing objectives that allowed SDF forces the upper hand in engagements.
Max was daring- and he held high standards of his men, receiving the same respect back, eventually leading 2nd Squad, 1st Platoon in the RSDF 501st SF Reconnaissance Company. Reconnaissance in a large mechanized vehicle is still difficult for the best operator, moreso when you're miles behind enemy lines- but the actions of Max's unit ripped up the playbook, hitting silently, hard, or both against often overwhelming numbers and gaining valuable information without ever being even seen. The "Bastion", as he was otherwise known as wasn't afraid to get his paws dirty, being fully aware of not becoming dependent on his GEAR in combat despite using it to great effect in hit-and-run raids. The enemy couldn't report where he was if he had taken one of their eyes out, after all. As a result, command looked past his quirky traits- he did things his way, and he got results. In or out of a GEAR, Max was good at what he did, and most would have said that he seemed to have his life together. Almost too good.
A punch up due to a disagreement with Major saw him thrown into a brig for three months, and released back to a new normal- that of being on thin ice and under scrutiny. It felt like no matter who he led into battle, what he accomplished, there was a chip on his shoulder and he wasn't appreciated for doing what was needed. While some counter-terrorist and anti-piracy operations followed, he couldn't help but feel that he was being pushed away- into quitting, and that in itself even for someone as brave as Max just didn't sound like something he wanted to experience. While he'd love to spend more time surfing, travelling and living as fiercely independent as he does, he can't deny that the SOF gives him purpose and reason to be better than he was- and most of all, someone who can actually keep up with his siblings.
So the callup into the 33rd couldn't have come sooner. It was another SOF gig, and most of all, a fresh chance to carry on doing what he'd found gave him purpose, duty and drive in life.
Hobbies & Interests: -Reading Natural/Aravan History -Parachuting -Surfing -Cider -Rock, Drum and Bass and Ambient Music -Motorcycles -Gaming -The Great Outdoors
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K8 SOF Combat Knife M8 PDS with Silencer/LAM
RI M23 ISS -Thermal Imaging/Digital Sniper Optic, Bipod/Angled Foregrip, Side-Mounted Holographic Optic, Silencer, Laser/Light Module, Golden-Grey Camo
-Alternatives used as appropriate -SGA M820 PDW with Holographic Optic, 50 Round Magazine, Silencer, Laser/Light Module -MI ATMG Anti-Material Rifle
Personalised GEAR Suit and Helmet with chinguard, golden-brown-grey camouflage (helmet replacement during marksman work for a pair of smart goggles) Pebble Ommni-Tool Personal First Aid Kit Personal Survival Kit Climbing Rope and Harness PID (Laser Designator/Thermal Imaging Device) Grenades/Smoke Grenades Quadrotor UAV Reconaissance System (Link to Helmet Visor/Goggles)
Appearance: A touch on the short side with a bit of muscle on her, Corinna has sandy, almost golden colored fur flecked with spots of brown while her muzzle and large ears are entirely brown, with lighter tan fur on her chest and the insides of her ears. Her hair is the same color as her brown fur and she tends to leave it fashionably messy and unkempt, going between her ears in a fauxhawk or pixie cut sort of style that goes down the back of her neck. Her eyes are an alluring shade of emerald green, and despite her dangerous career choice and a couple bad decisions in her earlier years, her features are nearly flawless, save for a golden stud implanted in her right earlobe.
Height: 5'2
Weight: 115 lbs
Personality: For some people, calling them an angel is laughably pretentious. For Corinna, calling her an angel might be an understatement.
Poised and confident, Corinna can already draw every eye in the room, and she rarely has to raise her soft and melodic voice, touched with the hint of an accent, to a shout. People tend to listen to her, and she has little trouble soothing frayed nerves and saying just the right thing to get you back on your feet again. On top of her endless charisma, she's deeply intelligent, always eager to explore new and unusual things, and a steadfast soldier who doesn't waver in even the toughest situations. Combine that with her breezy attitude and she almost makes what she does look easy and effortless.
She's not perfect, of course. She tends to waver when faced with a black or white snap decision and while she does work hard, her breezy attitude can come off as being dull and disinterested. Still, while there are many skilled and competent fighters out there, it's probably most comforting to know that someone like Corinna is waiting in the wings, fighting alongside you.
History: Corinna was born in one of the client kingdoms of the Empire of Margoth, at the height of a bloody uprising against their imperial masters. Out of desperation, her parents escaped the carnage by cutting across the Badland, a journey that her father did not survive and left her mother drained and enfeebled until she passed just a few years after her arrival in Solernia. The sole survivor of the ordeal, Corinna was placed into a foster home when she was still just a kid.
Her new parents were decent folk, a war veteran and police officer for a father and a mother who managed a small family business, and she grew up in relative comfort, but life was still tough for her growing up. The culture shock from being flung into another country on top of the struggles of trying to learn in a different language then her own meant she struggled in school, and her race and "funny accent" made her a regular target of bullies and other mean-spirited people, which in turn made her rather withdrawn and antisocial. It was a miserable time for her, and it instilled in little Corinna a desire to be better then the bullies and the bigots who mistreated her for days on end, helping people instead of hurting them.
This desire blossomed into something greater, and through her efforts to talk to people and help them as best she could, her gift for being able to say the right thing at the right time came out as she grew into her teen years and beyond. Her charm wasn't the only thing to blossom either, as many of her old childhood bullies were shocked to discover that the exotic, angelic heartthrob they all fantasized about was the awkward foreign kid who could barely speak ten years ago. Needless to say, high school and college were a wild ride, and though she got a few bumps and bruises and broke some hearts along the way, she managed to graduate with a degree in Counseling and Psychology. Inspired to go into law enforcement by her adoptive father, she was recruited as an agent of the Solernian Law Enforcement Bureau, where her experience with talking down tense situations proved useful and saw her attached to a counter-terrorism Special Tactics Unit, where she began cross training with the SRDF in military tactics and training, including the usage of military-grade GEARs.
Corinna had already been involved in a few dust-ups with the organization publicly known as the Silent Line when the 33rd was being formed to directly deal with the threat. Civilian law enforcement requested a presence on the team to better coordinate their efforts against the new threat to the security of the nation, and Corinna seemed the natural pick for the job.
Hobbies & Interests: Corinna likes to explore her creative side on her downtime, indulging in classical epic poems and fantasy works while jotting down ideas of her own to the tune of her favorite songs, trending toward classical and progressive rock tunes. When she's feeling more social, and she often is, she enjoys meandering around and making light conversation with new friends, lending a sympathetic ear to those who need it, and occasionally indulging in her weakness for a pretty face.
Personal Gear & Equipment: SGA M820 PDW (Alternate Loadout) M57-2 Shotgun M2 Combat Knife RI M61 Combat Revolver with LAM attachment Flashbang/Stun Grenades
GEAR Pilot's Suit and helmet: Blue band on the arm denoting her rank as Special Agent. Pebble Multi-Tool Personal Medical Kit Personal Survival Kit
