[CHAR] ❤'s Wild

[Crumbs]

❤'s Cherry

Name: Wild Cherry.

Age: Nineteen.

Race: Human.

Gender: Female.

Affiliation: Thirst (Loyal) - The remains of a once-proud band of Bounty Hunters, Thirst has become something of a joke among the inhabitants of Rainend. They possess no land and only number somewhere around a dozen. Despite their decrepitude, Wild is proud to be counted among them and views them as something of a family.

Cardinals (Tentative) - Having been contacted by The Duke and Lady Crimson, Wild is currently in service of the Northern and Southern Cardinals; though she isn't exactly comfortable in working with them...the money is good and she hopes to earn a modicum of fame through this "partnership".

Appearance:

Cherry

Personality: Quick to laugh, in any situation, Wild Cherry is a woman of polarized nature; despite how people might usually perceive her. That laughter can be heard over the repeated firing of her Ruby Revolver, or in a waste-hamlet dive; without any change in pitch. As such, she continually appears jovial; forcing a smile even when she's in the deepest throes of misery.

Cherry has something of an unpredictable temper, despite her constant smile, and no qualms escalating a disagreement into a gun-fight. Her two years as a Bounty Hunter, and the hard years before she finally caught that break, have left her both practical and ruthless. She does, however, know where to draw the line...and won't engage in a fight she doesn't think she can win.

Loyalty has always been important to Wild, as she isn't always capable of handling things on her own. Her friends aren't numerous, but highly important to her. When comfortable with people, she usually drops the forced joviality for a more petulant shift in attitude; complaining and joking, in turns, with an actual sense of mirth.

Occupation: Bounty Hunter (Casteless)

Equipment:

• Crybaby - Her Mineral Weapon, a Ruby Revolver. When not in her hand, it is in its holster. It looks as the name implies, having six shots and a long barrel. The caliber is dubious, given the Weapon's tendency to loose bolts of flame instead of actual bullets. The effect can range from that of a gunshot to an outright explosion.

Crybaby was given its name due to the personality she perceives from the weapon. While she is capable of utilizing some of its overall power, Wild isn't close with it...and views it as more of a tool, than a friend. Due to this disconnection, Crybaby won't always work for her.

• Fancy Duds - Pilfered from various places, Cherry has compiled a very "out-of-place" style. She only wears one set at a time, but has countless outfits stashed away in the few remaining Thirst vaults. They are all extremely precious to her; whether they be baubles or dresses.

• That Thing I Keep Water In - A canteen, sturdy and serviceable. Never leaves home without it...and rarely forgets to keep it filled. It comes in handy, also, as a melee weapon. Usually attached to her hip, opposite Crybaby.

• Neat Nothing - Cherry doesn't quite know what this object is, but always thought it was important. As such, she's kept it with her since finding it next to a Weeping Crystal. It is a small metallic sphere that she'll roll between her hands when she's feeling a bit stressed.

• Mama's Girl - A hatchet, situated behind Crybaby; easily within reach. Mama's Girl is suitable as a melee weapon (sometimes in conjunction with That Thing I Keep Water In) or a thrown weapon. It is surprisingly resilient, but is still used with care; usually only relied on if her Ruby Revolver is being obstinate...or if she really wants to get personal.

Abilities:

• Plain Ol' Human (Racial): Wild Cherry is, indeed, a human. As such, she has talents and flaws...and a strong will to survive. Beyond that, there isn't much to say.

• Wastelander (Racial/Occupation): Having spent a fair deal of her life in Rainend's more vicious environs, Wild Cherry has become savvy to what it takes to make a living for yourself. She has experienced bloodshed and turmoil in spades and continues to stride forward. She might be a little off, but she's also a little tough.

• I Can Make That Shot! (Occupation): Bounty Hunters ply their trade in various ways. Ever since taking up a gun, she has been in love. Practice has honed her natural talent for making shots from a long distance, with fairly high accuracy; despite only using a revolver.

• Dirty Tactician (Personal/Occupation): Despite her diminutive frame, Cherry isn't afraid to actively engage in life-threatening situations...assuming she has a weapon, or friends, nearby. This also extends to her hunts, where she will usually apply ambush tactics or other underhanded means of setting an enemy off-balance before delivering the final blow. There's a degree of cleverness to her, it should be said...even if it is usually implemented in detrimental ways.

• I Can't Stop Smiling! (Personal): It's true. Most of the time she can't wipe that smirk off of her face. This can lead to people becoming quickly annoyed with Cherry. Not that she much minds.

Biography: "I ain't tellin' you anything!"

Yep! There she is!

[Basarin]

Name: Rigel Stenfield

Age: 26

Race: Human

Gender: Human

Affiliation: Cardinal City [The Emperor]

Appearance: At first glance, Rigel would appear to be (to the average caste citizen in a Cardinal City) a casteless wanderer. He wears fatigues and satchel bags that have clearly seen plenty of use and travel, covered only by a red cloak which seems to flow over his body like water as he moves. However, his face is startlingly sharp compared to the rest of him. As caked in grime and dust as it is, a face with green eyes, short red hair and a faint smile more fit in court than in the wastelands greets whoever may approach him.

Personality: Rigel seems almost awkward and naive as company due to the many questions he asks everyone along with the many books he reads on a continual basis. His thirst for information may grate on the wrong (or right) personality, but he is almost always forming a mental picture of his surroundings, his acquaintances, and especially potential obstacles. He sees fighting as unproductive, and would rather come to negotiations over duels, but he can and will fight if he feels the need. Rigel is also very polite, almost to the point of being shy, and hardly if ever loses his temper openly. You simply cannot concentrate if you're angry, after all.

Occupation: History Student, Archaeologist [Noble]

Equipment: Rigel's equipment is standard fare for an archaeologist. An oil lantern with plenty of fuel, rations, survival gear for camping in the wastelands, and as much rope as he might need. Rigel can also often be seen with a pen and notepad, and is constantly writing down items of interest to him (which seems to be most things).

His prized possession, however, is the Titan's Grasp. Classified under the highly sought after "Mineral Weapons," its' appearance is that of a single leather bracer fixed to Rigel's right arm. Once it was discovered by Rigel in the ruins of a nameless civilization far to the east of the Emperor's realm, Rigel discovered it granted him nearly superhuman strength. He also discovered it was a rather cranky soul that resided in the bracer, and more often than not it would urge Rigel to simply smash through a given obstacle. Rigel usually declines to use the Titan's Grasp unless absolutely necessary. But if a large boulder, an impassable wall, bandits, or an obstacle stands in his way that cannot be moved around or negotiated with, Rigel does not hesitate to let the Titan's Grasp live up to its' name.

Abilities:
- Keen Eyes: A combination of both courtly upbringing and a year of traveling the wastes has made Rigel extremely aware of tiny details around him. He has developed a habit of taking note of certain things that the average person would not, and if asked he will happily expound on the topic (to the questioner's regret). This does nothing to stop him from asking questions about it either.
- Clever: Humans did not survive Rainend because they were the strongest or the fastest. They thrived because they cheat, and build and use tools to keep cheating. Rigel is no different, and when faced with threats he can't ignore or negotiate with, he is not above settings traps with rope and whatever else he can find to even the odds.
- Rigel is an archaeologist who explores dangerous ruins on a regular basis. As such, he is careful around new threats, takes his time, and is always looking for either a way past the obstacle, or a retreat path if he has to run. He will only use the Titan's Grasp in a fight as a last resort; he is not a fan of being too reliant on an artifact he politely bickers with on a regular basis (though he happily demonstrates what it can do to dissuade anyone from trying anything funny). If it comes to a fight, combined with leveling the playing field he is also a skilled pugilist (a result of paying attention to his self-defense classes) who has a basic understanding of how to incorporate inhuman strength in a fight.

Biography: Born to the minor nobility of the Stenfields in the Emperor's Cardinal City, Rigel is the fourth of four sons. To most sons of the nobility this would be infuriating - there would be no chance of inheritance bar kinslaying. To Rigel, however, this was a relief. Besides being charged with bringing renown to the family name, very little was expected of or imposed on Rigel as he grew up. While his elder brothers jockeyed with each other over inheritances and prestige, Rigel spent more time in education, particularly that of the histories of the Cardinal Cities. What truly interested him, however, was what came before. Why was Rainend the way it was? What brought its' current sad condition?

Discovering very quickly that he would not find the answers staying inside of the city, Rigel - with reluctant approval from his parents - began venturing outside of the Cardinal City and into the wastelands to find answers under a University charter. At first he was escorted by the family guards, but Rigel soon proved that he was more than capable of dealing with obstacles. The guards soon were withdrawn by his brothers wishing more protection from each other than for guarding the non-interested heir to the family, and the issue was never raised again when Rigel discovered and bonded with the Titan's Grasp. Now he regularly ventures out of the city with a potent (if seldom-used) Mineral Weapon, a state of affairs his family is more happy to continue.

Rigel has, largely unknown to him, a small reputation in and out of the cities as an archaeologist noble. He is equally praised as a seeker of knowledge and derided as a thrill-seeking junkie, but even if he knew about it, he would agree with both stories. Accomplishing the next great adventure is only part of the joy - it's how he gets there that makes him happy. And while he is no closer to finding the real story of what happened to Rainend, he is more than content to keep going and publishing what he does find.

[Rultaos]

Name: Gaius Findley

Age: 23

Race: Human

Gender: Male (Sex is also male)

Affiliation:
North City - Gaius has lived there all his life, and has not ventured very far out into Rainend. He knows a lot of the people there and has plenty of friends within the underground hive-like city. While he is not necessarily loyal to The Duke who leads the place competently enough (though he will follow their orders out of both respect and fear), he is more loyal to the people of his city, and is sure to do his best to keep them safe from whoever and whatever may try to bring them harm.

Findley Weapons and Arms - A small company started by his grandfather, it is a well-known weapon manufacturer within North City, and some outlying settlements who often do trade with merchants coming from North City. It is a family business with some paid workers for mass production of large orders, and while it is currently owned by his father (who handles many of their financial dealings) Gaius is expected to take up the mantle after his father becomes too old and his hands become too shaky to screw a gun together properly. They mainly produce ballistic firearms but have recently tried to dabble in compact hand-carried laser-weaponry after extensive research into the laser turrets utilized by the local guards. While they are nothing impressive when compared to the superior armaments of South City and Lady Crimson, within their region they are counted among the best producers of top-quality firearms. Gaius cares a lot about the business as he views it as their family's legacy and will do his best to make sure it stays alive and continues to become greater.

Appearance

:

Source (Pinterest): s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/8a/b..

Usually wears a brown, hooded jacket with the insignia of their company on the right chest. When travelling outside the city during a particularly windy day whhere the sand is being kicked up into the air, he has a scarf as part of the jacket that he uses to cover his nose and mouth while the goggles covers his eyes. He prefers letting his red hair (inherited from his mother) flow freely whenever he does not have the hood up.

Personality: Gaius is a perfectionist, and cannot stand the idea of leaving things to chance or fate. His family did not get far in the gun business by being careless, after all. He plans out much of what he does to the last detail, whether it's about new weapon designs, or deciding on profitable deals to strike with other merchants. This nature of his has caused him to view a lot of bad events as caused by shortcomings and failures on both his part and everyone else involved, because he views no situation as "unavoidable" or any defeat "circumstantial" because everyone has the power to alter the flow of events if they really wanted to or knew how to. So while he has an incredibly strong drive to succeed against any and all odds, he also has a tendency to berate himself if ever he falls short of his goals. The mental backlash of such an event borders on atelophobic in nature.

While he does view failure as an opportunity to learn and grow, he takes the "learn" portion from it very seriously. Should he ever feel as if he failed at something, or not fulfill a goal he has set for himself, he will spend hours thinking about what he did wrong and what else could be done to avoid that in the future. He will find himself quickly annoyed at people who are careless or do not seem to exert as much effort as he does in being detailed and careful, most especially people who decide to "wing it" or improvise instead of analyzing situations as he views these as surefire ways to repeat past mistakes or make new ones altogether.

Occupation: Artisan. Gun designer and manufacturer for Findley Weapons and Arms

Equipment:
"The Pacifier" - This mineral weapon is an old, semi-automatic hunting rifle with gold trimming along its oak stock, and ornate designs of what appears to be blowing smoke on the main body of the rifle. The word "Pacifier" is etched onto the right side of the rifle's body encased in a golden rectangle. The scope of the weapon appears to be some kind of strange gemstone rather than normal glass, but can still be adjusted by the valve on the right side of it. What makes this weapon unique is that whenever it is lined up to make a killing shot (such as pointing at the head or the torso of a living creature) the view of the scope becomes distorted and the crosshairs no longer align properly. In addition to this, should you attempt to fire the weapon in this state, the shot will often go off-course, causing the user to miss even if they try to aim without the scope. However, if the weapon is pointed at inanimate objects or non-lethal parts of a body (such as the legs and arms) the view through the scope will remain crystal clear in even the harshest of weather conditions, and the bullet will always travel with pinpoint accuracy to where the crosshairs are pointed. Gaius even feels as if the weapon compensates for wind and distance on its own by adjusting the bullet's direction as it exits the barrel of the gun to make sure that it will always land on where the crosshairs point. The weapon uses standard sniper rifle ammunition and can often be restocked at any place that sells ballistic armaments, but Gaius prefers taking from his family's own produced stockpile to be sure of its quality.

Experimental Laser Pistol - One of their company's first ventures into the production of handheld laser weapons labelled as the "Scorcher" model, it is a hefty weapon much larger than most ballistic pistols. It is a weapon that uses charged "Battery" magazines to fire its laser, giving it 10 "shots" (though in actuality it is a controlled burst of laser energy) before needing to be replaced. The weapon is inredibly accurate as long as the laser lens are properly cleaned and maintained and has an effective range rivaling most rifles. The laser is devastating to most organic targets as it burns the tissue and causes blood to burst from the veins as they are boiled by the heat of the weapon. However, the weapon struggles when dealing with armored targets (as discovered in the testing phase) and can only weaken metal armor by softening up the material with its heat. The battery ammunition it uses is specifically made as well and, as far as Gaius is aware, are only produced by their family business. As such, he is careful not to use it unless necessary. He usually carries around 4 battery packs giving him 40 shots with the weapon.

Tools of the Trade - Gaius always carries around a backpack carrying anything he may need to build or maintain weapons (and some machines) wherever he goes. It contains a few spare parts needed to repair common firearms such as revolvers, automatic pistols, and rifles. However, most of the extra parts he carries are for the maintenance of "The Pacifier" and the "Scorcher" (such as spare laser lens). Aside from this, it also contains the tools needed for maintenance and repair, including a screwdriver with varying heads, a large adjustable wrench, a bottle of oil lubricant, and clean cloths. In a pinch, the wrench can act as a melee weapon due to its sturdiness.

Abilities:
Smithy's Senses (Occupation) - Much like the keen eyes of many alert wastelanders, being a weaponsmith entails being able to spot minute details honed from years of having to spot the tiniest of abnormalities in a weapon that would make it stop functioning, and acting upon it. Gaius is capable of noticing small physical details from the chinks in a rifle's barrel to a stray coin in the gutter.

Natural Machinist (Occupation) - Gaius is a natural when it comes to dealing with many machines, not just weapons (though he is far more knowledgeable when it comes to firearms). As such, he is capable of repairing most, if not all, mechanical objects that he may encounter with relative ease. He will only struggle with highly complex items (such as the laser guns of North City), needing more time and information if he is expected to make a repair job out of it. If needed however, he can even build firearms outside of his family's workshop, as long as he is provided with enough supplies to construct one.

Steady Hands (Occupation) - A weaponsmith's hands are steady and stable above all else. Gaius in particular harnesses this stability by being able to handle the internal components of both weapons and machines with surgical precision, and to fire a vast array of weapons with accuracy rivaling some of The Duke's finest soldiers. His time in the weapon ranges of North City and from performing his own weapon demonstrations both inside and outside the city gates have developed both his skills and reputation in this regard.

A Merchant's Perspective (Occupation) - As a necessity of running their own business, Gaius has learned the ins and outs of making deals with people, often capable of realizing whenever he is getting offered a poor bargain, and will often call them out on it to get a better deal. However, while he can stop others from giving them poor exchanges, he is not always skilled enough to constantly make situations profitable as he never truly specialized in it.

"Nothing's Outside Our Control" (Racial) - Gaius' perfectionist attitude has developed within him a sense of responsibility over his actions, to the point of believing that failure will always be one's own fault. Because of this, he has an uncommonly high level of determination when he sets out to do something, and come Hell or high water he will be doing everything in his power to get it done. He will never believe that a cause is lost until it's already been lost. The drawback to this however is that when he does fail or lose from his point of view, he tends to take it very harshly, bordering on atelophobic anxiety attacks.

Biography

: Gaius was born to Richard and Maria Findley in North City. Richard owned the weapon production company "Findley Weapons and Arms" which was started by Gaius' grandfather, Walter Findley. From an early age, he was exposed to various different weapons and machines, and taught how they function; how each individual piece contributed to the purpose of the machine. His father and mother were both gifted in the craft of weaponsmithing and were intent on passing on their skills to Gaius to continue their family legacy. Eventually, this upbringing molded his perfectionist attitude and his belief that everything was under one's own control "you only need to know the right pieces to tweak" he would often say, referring to the different factors that would cause an outcome, not so different from adjusting a rifle.

His teens saw him continue his training in the art of weaponsmithing while also developing his social relations with the people in North City. At this point, they also began teaching Gaius how to deal with people and, inevitably, shrewd merchants that he would often encounter in their line of work. Here he made friends with the children of their city section, mainly other Artisans and also a few kids of merchants who both do travelling and sell only locally. Here he learned how to value his work, and how to tell whether he is getting the short end of the stick. It was also at this stage that he began developing a sense of duty and loyalty to his home city, if only to protect the people he cared about.

It was also during this stage of his life when a travelling merchant traded "The Pacifier" to his father. They managed to get a relatively good deal out of it as the weapon was in poor condition when it was given to them, and it did not take long for them to repair the rifle without changing its core components (which they knew were usually essential to a mineral weapon's power). It was discovered a short while later that the rifle, living true to its name, refused to kill anything. Gaius was annoyed at this discovery, especially after being initially impressed with the rifle's reliability and accuracy when he used it on the shooting ranges. When he attempted to take down some of the local Triple Stingers (Small scoropions with 3 stinger tails that can also shoot out the poison if especially threatened), the weapon behaved very unreliably and the scope itself would not focus properly. Further tests against other local wildlife had the same results, yet it would focus and fire just fine when aimed at less vital portions of their bodies. Despite his annoyance at the rifle's refusal to kill, he will never find a rifle as accurate and as reliable as The Pacifier, and that was a trait Gaius could respect.

Throughout the years, he has built a reputation within North City and some nearby settlements as something of a prodigy. Both from the quality of the weapons his family produces, but also from the weapons demonstrations he gives occasionally. In order to demonstrate the full extent of their products, he has to be capable of hitting both stationary and moving targets at varying distances, while handling both semi-automatic and fully automatic weapons at various different calibers. Gaius has shown that he is fully capable of doing so, demonstrating the accuracy and reliability of their weapons with such expertise that some citizens of North City think that it was a waste that he became an Artisan as he would've made an excellent soldier in The Duke's local militia. This reputation that he constructed however, only served to further reinforce his drive to become better and better and avoid failure or shortcomings at any cost (which is a near-constant mental strain on his mind).

Currently, he is already equipped with most of the knowledge needed to run their family business, and there is little more that his parents can add to what he already knows (with the exception of new weapon ideas based on laser technology, which Gaius is still learning about). However, his father is worried that he does not have enough real life experience out in the far reaches of Rainend, beyond the outlying settlements near their cities. His father fears that Gaius might not understand what exactly their weapons are meant to protect people from, which would make the priorities of their company skewed once Gaius took charge of it. When they received a summons from The Duke for what appeared to be a dangerous excursion, it appeared that they had found the answer to that dilemma. But whether it will answer their problem, or cause entirely new ones still has yet to be seen.

[ScreenAcne]

Name: Mask (old name: Andrew Ashford)

Age: 37

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Affiliation: none

Appearance:

Personality

Aahford struggles with emotional juggling, in fact you can declare him almost totally single minded when it comes to taking things into consideration. While not sociopathic, he finds it hard to dedicate any serious thought to much else when an issue consumes him. It not that dosen't care that you're hurt, it's just that he dosen't have words as you were not meant to be big issue right now. Causing him to have confused or awkward, even unwittingly cruel response out of unsure expression. He's the kind of person that would add "I guess?" to "I'm glad you're family is ok"

Because he focus on one issue at a time, he dosen't keep in mind the damage he does along the way. Even if, at the start his intention were good. If you present an equation to Andrew he would search for the same answer for that equation, even when the problem had expanded considerably. He is, partially aware of this but not quick. Possibly even emotionally retarded in many ways. His redeeming quality is that he does care, alot. Even if he fucks up constantly and if you want something done, he may leave a trail of hurt people in his chase, he will not stop until he gets his bone.

Lonely and desperate for emotional connection. He clumsily reaches out to people in awkward silences, off putting topic starters that are leaps from normal boundaries , which he sometimes dosen't even listen to. While lacking in many areas, Andrew isn't scared to step up and in many cases will do so too quickly. Developing a bit of guilt in round about ways. He uses passive aggression-or out right aggression- to handle things. Making him forward but sometimes pushy and imperceptive.

Occupation:

Former: Smelter

Current: adventurer(merc, scavenger, selling tid bits ectr)

Equipment:

Iron Flask: A simple revolver side arm. It lacks any distinctive features in design although its years have left patterns on it, such as a long scratch down the side of the barrel and is name scrawled in some sort of tattoo on the side. The handle is made up of a leather wrap that has long since started to crack.

The Mask: Andrew wears a worn poncho, black and leathery all over that drapes past his knees and hugs his wrists in constant movement. A series of small bulky patch work can be seen poking from the inside at points from the shoulders, the gut and around the neck. Each holding solid metal for minor protection. The most notable aspect of this dress is that it has a front side hoody, which when pulled over the face like a reverse hood, it is tied with belts. The fabric having a circular, copper based breathing apparatus with anti-fog, green bug eyes.

Survival equipment: Most of the basics are there: water flask. A hunting knife. A lighter, a mess kit for eating food and a small pouch of snacks.

Abilities:

Shaky Reviews: The mask has earned a mixed opinion in his travels, due to Ashford's general personality he sometimes unawaringly leave chaos in his wake of helping someone. As a result, depending on the location and the affiliation, he may be considered a trouble worth appeasing until he leaves or a local doo gooder.

Environmental protection: The mask that he wears is capable of defending him from most forms of toxic gases and deadly air borne pathogen. Although most of his skin, most notably his hands and shins are not protected by anything but standard gloves and jeans.

Metal Knowledge: His years as a smelter make him someone knowledgeable of most basic designs. Chance are that if it exists he aided in its creation once in one of the foundry, be it from blades to guns, to locks and chairs. He may be able to offer some insight into a specific items attributes but not any mineral or special items.

Biography

Born into a working family under the Lady Cinnamon. They spent their time pragmatically slaving away and trying to improve what little they could in the caste. His father was dull and deliberate, he didn't want excitement but he was exact. His mother was delicate but detailed. Together, they made a good team. Quickly punished by his mother for being too active or saying anything wrong, sometimes even having emotional outbursts and being unaware of his father own, disinterested manners outside of commands and creeds. Andrew was raised to be as finely tuned as them, in sacrifice he rarely had a voice and had to complain or passively express grief. A fact seen as positive to the role model workers.

After he married and left home, he never contacted his family again. In awkward dinners and silent meetings of the entire lineage he may of appeared but torn between an innert dad and badgering mother he fell into confused platitudes. His own wife and daughter were drastically different. Perhaps in some vague way he viewed them as a chance to have some sort of connection with someone that was denied. His wife, originally a set up affair.

His sexual desires and romantic gestures, routinely confused quickly led to he and his wife being unprepared for what the other wanted. His wife, was emotionally bubble. He, was emotionally dry and haunted by the fact he hadn't really lived a life he liked as death drew closer. Not really respected by her, most of their conversations were impotent and sneaky arguments. In the end they broke up when he had neglected her, after having not had a single event when he wasn't working in over 3 years. She claimed neglect and while he did pursue her and try to articulate himself, his inner frustration came out. He couldn't rise up to the task.

Left with his daughter. He sought to give her company by buying her a dog, since he was at work constantly he hoped it would help her heal. However when she chased the dog once outside the city near a rain dropped area, he simply let it out in the middle of the night. In return from his wife, he had overly sought to replace her with his daughter. Emotionally. Being on the verge of over protective and even vindictively uncertain. She did, in the end. Run away to her mothers in an unknown location when she sent word. This, is what lead to Andrew leaving home and going exploring for his family.

[Acid Hippie]

Bot Master

Name: Bot Master, “Bot"

Age: Somewhere between 18 and 25

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Affiliation: Casteless

Bot has a home outside the city, not too far away. There is where he completes especially big projects that require long periods of time and isolation. For smaller jobs, he often takes residence inside the city via a work permit. Still, he is treated poorly by many citizens of the city and only receives work by his reputation and citizens lack of concern for those that work with robotics. Who else would waste so much time?

Appearance:

Bot Master

Personality: Bot is a quirky fellow. He goes by the name Bot and so do all of his companions. So when calling his name you are often greeted with the eyes of many. To make matters even more confusing, Bot often refers to himself in third person, leaving others to wonder if he is referring to himself or the miniature robots around him. This is partially because of his time spent in isolation and also due to his Mineral Weapon. Because no one really knew Bot before he was known for his work, people don’t know if he always treated himself near robot like or if it was his Mineral Weapon that changed him. In truth, the Mineral Weapon likely amplified Bot's strange traits.

Though he isn’t ignorant of the world around him, Bot does often treat people and situations like robots that need to be fixed. This is especially apparent when he deals with situations he has little to no experience in: such as taking care of children. To people that look down on him, they spend so little time with him and only require his product; so they aren’t too bothered. To those that would get to know Bot, they would see he means no harm and is actually pretty cautious with everything and everyone around him. He is more often than not like a curious child investigating whatever is before him with a procedural and experimental like approach.

Occupation: Droid Worker

Equipment:

“Bot”: Not so much of a weapon, at least not anymore, this mineral weapon was actually constructed with the remains of whatever it was before. Included was an extremely advanced CPU, and being familiar with CPU operating systems, Bot was able to piece together a body and repair the CPU. What was created now was a tiny AI robot companion with knowledge of software and CPUs that rivals Bot’s own. His primary and seemingly only function however, is to use whatever materials are available to build an exact replica of himself; over and over and over and over and over again. Bot (robot bot), using Bot’s (human Bot) original design, Bot can create an army of Bots that will aid them in whatever task they command. The Bots even have special abilities of their own, unique to each series of Bot. Some will explode, others will sprout helicopter blades from their heads, some will shoot laser beams from their eyes, and others will massage your hands and feet. The process is random and is not influenced at all by Bot’s (human or robot) desire or needs.

Robot Bot seems to have accepted Human Bot as leader, brother, and fellow robot companion. He follows him everywhere and seems to even influence Bot’s behavior and desires. Robot Bot, will for example, encourage Bot to play games with him. Robot Bot and all the Bot Companions refer to Bot by his full name, Bot Master, which is likely why he is known professionally as Bot Master in the first place.

“Portal Key”: The Portal Key is a strange handheld device that almost looks like an alien gun except it has no barrel. It is not directly a weapon in fact. The Portal Key, when activated opens a portal to another destination. The Portal Key can be (roughly) aimed within several meters distance. The destinations are usually on the planet, but can also lead underwater somewhere in the ocean or out into deep space. Bot cannot directly control the Portal Key but rather wish for a destination and hope for the best outcome. His mood and status seem to affect the portal destinations, though not always in his favor. The portals do come in handy however, as when entered with the Portal Key, Bot can enter the portal and instead of traveling to a far away destination, return through another portal to the same location only another spot (as if teleporting). Due to the randomness and slightly inaccurate aiming of the Portal Key, this isn’t always a good strategy. By using his Bot Companions Bot can safely test portals before entering, fortunately. Also, as his Bot Companions are in a sense “extended Mineral Weapons”, they can safely traverse the portals themselves without the Portal Key.

Unlimited Random Resources: Using his Mineral Weapons together, Bot can send his Bot Companions into portals made by his Portal Key and have them return with resources and freshly made Bot Companions. It may take time however, if the Portal Key is being uncooperative. To help his influence on the Portal Key, Bot must remain in “its good wishes” as he calls it. This requires constant feeding to the portal (according to Bot). Its diet consists of all kinds of materials; nothing ever living besides plants (so far). It can range from sand, wood, to even oxygen on its own . . . Using (Robot) Bot and Portal Key, Bot has unlimited access to (mostly random) materials from all over the planet (and possibly the Universe). It seems like the Portal Key might even store materials it absorbs somewhere, as Robot Bot can create large amounts of Bot Companions in ideal circumstances.

Abilities:

“Bot is a doctor!” (Occupation): Bot, though not the best with fixing the more complex physical problems with machines and weapons, is on the other hand an expert with computer programming and droid repair. Given the circumstances of the world now, his talents have few opportunities for use.

Extreme Obsession(Occupation): Bot may not be the easiest to communicate with or give you the desired result, but his loyalty and knack for obsessing over droids will allow him to work on a task for long hours over many days. Robot Bot will often come and distract him between this work, however.

Biography: Not much is known about where Bot came from before he started serving as a droid worker. People can only come up with wild stories on how he turned out to be the cooky droid expert he is today. Some think he is autistic and that is the underlying cause of his odd behavior and ways of communicating. Others think that isolation alone, from traveling the wastelands and working in an abandoned factory, have driven Bot to the state he is in now. And of course, his Mineral Weapon Bot seems to constantly demand attention from him and might have insanity as a side effect of its shared power.

In any case, Bot gets the job done when it comes to fixing droids. His natural talent makes him receive regular clientele, and when repair work is slow he often accepts other odd end jobs from residents, bounty hunters, and all kinds of individuals for other kinds of work. His Mineral Weapon, Bot, grants him a large amount of helping hands to help with very menial tasks, such as loading and unloading cargo. They can even assist with tasks that would normally be too dangerous for humans to do, ranging from investigating unknown areas and touching hazardous materials. Due to their simple and randomized nature, the more complex the job is the longer it will take.

All in all, Bot has a decent living for himself. He has a giant abandoned factory of a home out in the wastelands when not staying in a one room studio, fairly tasty food to eat, and tons of robotic companions.

[Vashonn]

Nightshade

Name: Nightshade (birthname Rinoa, surname unknown)

Age: 24

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Affiliation:

• (formerly) Brother West Urchins - A large group of orphaned children that ran through the streets of the western Cardinal City, taking to pickpocketing and minor theft attempts to survive. Nightshade ran alongside these kids since she was only four, until age sixteen, when she was old enough to adventure on her own outside of the city.
• (formerly) Yrdra's Head-Hunters - A relatively prominent group of bounty hunters, snipers, and assassins that occupy a small south-western region of Rainend in a small town known as Droplet. They act as the "law" in the region, keeping the peace and reporting kills back to the western or southern Cardinal City. Nightshade joined up with them eight years ago, making useful contacts and allies to aid her throughout most of the southwest corner of Rainend.

Appearance:

Picture

About 5'5", slim build, 120lbs

Personality:
Nightshade herself is quite loving and sincere - but there's a particular air about her... Almost a cynicism in the way she talks, but understandably so - the way she had been treated throughout her youth gives her a feeling of estrangement. Yet Nightshade consistently tries to form valuable relationships with the people she interacts with, to ensure their aid in situations she needs them for.

Often, throughout conversations with people, Nightshade can seem distant with how she talks, almost mystic in her phrasing. Looking at it out of context would suggest she's on a different level from other people, or simply that her head is in the clouds most of the time. It leaves people wondering how she's going to respond to them, regardless of the simplicity of the question.

Occupation:

Head-Hunter (casteless)

Equipment:

• Spitshot: Yrdra's very own, given to Nightshade before she passed away - an Amethyst mineral weapon, designed as a sniper rifle. She often wears the weapon across her back, like Yrdra used to.
  
  Spitshot

  The 3rd gun shown.
  The rifle's origins are unknown, even by Nightshade, but she knows her mentor Yrdra recieved the weapon many decades ago. The rifle's personality is brash, and occasionally hotheaded - and the bullets themselves are incredibly the same. They take no solid form, cutting through an opponent with ease, but leaving momentous damage inside the flesh. If, for some reason, the target is able to escape with a single shot in them, they won't last long - the material the bullets are made of leave a residue behind in the wound, which continues heating up - to the point that the flesh of the target begins melting. So, death from this rifle is either swift and sudden, or a slow, horribly painful experience.
• 6-shot revolover: Just in case her kill ever gets too close, or something unexpected happens, Nightshade will generally have this 6-shot at hand, holstered on her right hip. It has a chrome finish and etchings of a floral design all across the surface.
• Basic bowie: This knife has saved Nightshade's ass more than enough times - when shit goes awry, she can always reach for her left boot and pull this baby out. A black coating stretched across the 9" blade, save for the silver line across the piercing edge.
• Neo-wild-western garb: Black jeans, knee-high studded boots, and a pitch-black short poncho often cover Nightshades body, with deep purple fingerless gloves gripping Spitshot.

Abilities:

Bull's Bullet (Occupation): Nightshade has become quite gifted with long-distance shots, and spends a good deal of her free-time aiming for far targets - such as a glass bottle, five thousands yards away. Spending so much time on this talent has really made her into an excellent shot, and is almost always reliable in hunting attempts.
The Weak and Weary (Racial/Personal): Having spent her youth living poorly, Nightshade is prolific when communicating with others who are typically down on their luck or are long-time strugglers. However, she lacks the correct presence when amongst those who are typically better suited off.
Regular Pick-pocket (Personal): A childhood of thieving just to get by was essential to Nightshade, and her keen eye and swift fingers continue to ensure she gets what she needs - especially if the item in question is particularly shiny. Nightshade is fairly good at pickpocketing, so long as the person she's taking her goods from doesn't notice a little nudge when walking through a crowd.
Foggy Air (Occupation/Personal): The very air around her seems to shift - Nightshade's scent, intoxicating. Her words are always placed so... Peculiarly, yet with such eloquence. But she has a tendency to disappear when least expected, and stay hidden. When out hunting, Nightshade can find great hiding spots, vantage points, and the like, and stay away from leering eyes for a great time. She also has a way with getting what she needs when bartering or asking around for information.

Biography: Dirt and dust caked the girl's skin, the only protection from the constant heat above the West Cardinal City. Young Rinoa ran through the browned streets beside the other children, hooping and hollering in their games. The occasional glint or shine would catch the eye, and in a quick brush, the shimmer vanished - now in the small hands of the child. For thirteen long, hungry years, this is how she lived, taking the coin she needed, nabbing at foods in the market when nobody was looking. Her parents died before she could even remember them, and her care was left to the City. All she had left of her past life was her name. But now, she forgets that at times, too.

Until she was sixteen, Rinoa knew no home, often sleeping in crevices with her brothers and sisters who were orphaned by the City. Here, they looked out for each other, keeping out of the grasp of authorities, knowing to love the shadows and using their innoncence to their advantage. She always stayed a bit distant, though - not because she didn't want to talk to the children, nor because she didn't need them - but her mind didn't belong. It was somewhere else, always looking over the horizon at the sunset each night, staring up at the dim stars far above whatever nook she had nuzzled herself into for safety.

Finally, her sixteenth year cast her into the wasteland, too old to run with her comrades any longer, and she wandered. Scavenging could only get her so far - and it got her into trouble, of all things. A few days' travel south left her hot, dehydrated, and on the cusp of death - until she saw the large metal barn - more of a shed, really - which she rummaged through merrily, quenching her thirst and resting there for the night. The next morning brought with it a harsh reality, as she was thrown from her shaded bed of dried grass into the already beating sun by two thick, rough hands. A party of four large figures looked down at the young girl, discovering they had been stolen from and ready to take repayment. Just as one of the men lunged at the cowering teen, a piercing wind stung the air, along with a strong *thunk*, and the man was down on the ground, the blood from between his eyes already soaking into the cracked earth. The three remaining attackers began darting about, frantically searching for cover. Another shot rang out into the still desert air, and a second man was down, then another - the final hulking figure smart enough to grab Rinoa as his shield.

Quickly recognizing her situation, Rinoa ducked down and kicked, hard - straight into the man's lower gut, doubling him over. She darted to the shed for cover, and a final burst echoed across the motionless air. After only a few minutes in hiding, the distant tapping of boots against the dirt came closer to her location. She stumbled at first, then found a good vantage point as her next threat entered - an older woman in a long desert duster, a rifle slung across her back.

"I mean you no harm, girl. I had hoped after what I'd done for you, you'd be more inclined!" The aged voice cracked, but still sounded genuine and full of heart. Rinoa swept down from above the woman, planning to surprise her from behind, but as she placed her feet and looked up, the wrinkled face was already staring back at her.

The woman was named Yrdra. She took Rinoa back to the small town of Droplet, just a little over a hundred people in the total village limits, including the guns-for-hire. For the next eight years of her life, Rinoa trained under Yrdra, honing her talent with a gun, and took the name Nightshade for her official mercenary title. Eight years of hunting, killing, and collecting coin kept Nightshade on her toes, and she quickly became quite renowned in the area for her marksmanship. After Yrdra passed away, Nightshade began wandering again, still relying upon her aim to bring in the money she needed, but once again without a home.

No one knew where to find her, but some of the bounty hunters from back in Droplet were able to get a hold of her - The Duke brought an important statement, summoning the sniper to the north Cardinal City. She had nowhere else to go, and nothing else to do - and surely, this had to be a relatively important matter - the Duke himself was involved. She gathered her few items and made way for the underground city.

[iTem]

D.I.E.

Name: Dmitri Iris Evans

Age: 29

Race: Human??

Sex: Male

Affiliation: None. A wanderer with connections.

Appearance:
A man with short black hair and a rather skinny build akin to that of a swimmer's body which is called otter mode. Dmitri is 6'3 in height and approximately 80.7 kg (178 lbs). He used to have longer hair but an altercation with a plan gone wrong had forced him to cut his hair shorter and also change his dressing style. He usually seen wears black cargo pants, and white long sleeves worn underneath a blue hoodie shirt as he seems to feel almost always cold despite not being cold himself. Otherwise, he opt for sleeveless hoodies for functionality and aesthetics.

He has an intricate celtic-like tattoo behind his left ear that spreads down to his shoulder, chest, and back which he had started getting at a younger age to hide scars that he had accumulated throughout the years. Dmitri also sports his personal "jewelry store on his head" because of his multiple piercings on his ears, left eyebrow, and his lower lip. However, Dmitri's face is usually described as "nice" or "kind" because of his soft features and usually gentle demeanor granted that he is not sporting his smug grin and predatory eyes.
(art to follow)

Personality:

Personality

Dmitri is a selfish person. If given the choice of losing some time and saving a person, he would rather save some time unless the other person is important to his own survival. He learned that humans only think for themselves therefore he should as well in order to survive. This is brought up from his past and because he had learned that everything is replaceable, and this includes items and people. This is applicable unless a person is odd or valuable enough to be indespensible. This ends up with him turning into a people pleaser at times to the point of hurting himself at times, but he tries to strike a balance between getting what he wants and dying for others. But he tends to feel conflicted between pleasing people and saving his own so he ends up switching randomly between the two general mindsets.

In terms of violence, Dmitri prefers to watch fights (sometimes even instigate it). If you were looking for the devil's advocate, you've found it personified within Dmitri. However he prefers staying physically out of it because he knows that he is not physically strong enough to overpower larger and stronger people, but he knows that he is capable enough to get people to kill for him in return for something, be it some kind of possession, money, another person, or information. But if the need arises, he knows that he could take care of himself as long as he is faster than the other guy, and if he keeps moving.

Dmitri also has a tendency to prod people for information and he finds it fun to gather information from people in different ways. His last method of information extraction can be torture, however. He would rather steer away from this because he knows that he enjoys this far too much that he tends to get carried away. His penchance for morbidity shows in his passing words.

Occupation: Wandering bard and part-time information broker. He tries to be a jack of all trades as a means to support himself in any means possible. (Casteless)

Equipment:

• Shade : a black acoustic guitar with grey gradient paint from the lower portion of the body till half-way towards the air hole of the guitar. At one of the sides of the guitar's body has the word "Shade" burned into the guitar (but the etching is usually facing Dmitri when he plays because of his left-handedness).
  
  Shade is a mineral weapon. Or mineral "tool" to be precise. When played by a player that it deems skilled enough, Shade can turn songs and emotions into "reality" for the player's audience/s. However, contary to its name, it does not allow itself to create personal nightmares to its listeners as it prefers to read people and show stories, not nightmares. But these realities are more of illusions, illusions that can materialize and be interacted with depending on how much the audience believes it to be. It can function as a distraction if the user is in danger, but it refuses to function as a torturing tool.
• The wires : these are two industrial-grade wires a little less than 3mm thick and 2.5 meters long capable of carrying up to one ton's worth of weight. It has small notches with grooves towards the end that can be used as weights if it was meant to be a whip, or for different attachments (like a grappling hook or a various bladed attachments that makes it function like a whip or a morning star). This is both a weapon and an item usually worn around Dmitri's waist like an additional belt of sorts.
• Bonnie and Clyde (plus the kids) : Two daggers (black and silver) and some throwing knives. The daggers can be attached to the wires. The daggers are on his belt and the "little ones" are hidden throughout his outfit.
• L'il kitty : a small leather case for a dissection kit . It also has a sewing kit at the back.
• The bags : his two bags. These consists of a black heavy-duty hardcase for his guitar and items used for its maintenance, and his mailbag where he carries most of his amenities and personal items.

Abilities:

• Silver tongued McGuyver(occupational) : he had learned to lie and sweet-talk so well that he is almost a psychological liar. He would try to sweet-talk, lie, or bribe his way out of everything for the sake of self preservation. In tandem he learned to make do of what he finds or has to get himself out of everything that he gets into.
• Jack-of-all-trades (occupational): moving all the time required him to learn all that he can to help him survive in the wastes and in cities. Be it from massaging, to chopping choice cuts of meat, to other abilities. But as wide as his skillset may be, he remains true to the old saying: "jack-of-all-trades, master of none."
• Fast hands (Racial and occupational): Dmitri's father was gifted with fast reflexes which was an ability that Dmitri had inherited and honed as he lived in the shanty town in the outskirts of the southern city where the casteless lived in poverty. Throughout his life, he had lived off of stolen goods which he had to take home or sell for sustenance for himself and his alcoholic father.
• Psychich b*st*rd (racial and occupational) : presumably inherited from his mother and honed throughout his life, he has learned to read people but their movements are being reacted by him almost instinctively.
• Hardy (racial and occupational) : living dangerously served him well. It had made him somewhat harder to kill because of his experiences.
• Green with envy (racial) : he is an envious person at heart and the drive to be anything less than exceptional makes him strive into making himself a better person than the other guy. This can bring him down if he could not see any improvements on himself and he would end into a self-destructive fit.
• Brainy (racial): he is a fast learner and has the capability to store and retrieve long-term memories easier than most people. His photographic memory and his ability to logically place two and two together helps him read between the lines as well as learn to exploit cued weaknesses of his targets. This is presumed to have come from his mother's side.

Biography: "Perhaps this tragic tale would be best told in another time, yes!"