[OOC] The Dust: Relaunch

[Syben]

@Monochromatic Rainbow You're the half mad gun toting russian resident. Half mad with guns, that is. We have much love for you.

[Antediluvixen]

@Aeonumbra

Only half mad?

[SirBeowulf]

tl;dr: Aeon saying things meaning he likes your character.

@Aeonumbra

thnks bb

But you did forget my other main question.
yah gahbage. New question though, any limitations for the bestiary? I might have a few ideas to toss into the pot. (inb4 mirelurk, yao guai, radroach)

[Antediluvixen]

@SirBeowulf

Cazadors, Deathclaws, Wanamingos, Super Mutants, The Master, Fred Phelps.

[SirBeowulf]

@SirBeowulf

Cazadors, Deathclaws, Wanamingos, Super Mutants, The Master, Fred Phelps.

@Monochromatic Rainbow

"These horrifying machinations of flesh lurk the wastes, preying on all those they come across. Beware, traveler. Don't waste any bullet with these bastards."

[Antediluvixen]

@SirBeowulf

Just so long as you don't smoke cigarettes or hang out with bundles of sticks, god hates those for some reason.

[Arcanaut]

Alright, took more refining than I thought but I believe my character sheet is presentable now. I am aware that in my backstory my character does become awakened yet there is no extended part on that. In thread reason is that it only happened once and when it was done Roland was unconscious until it was over and hasn't used it since. In actuality it's due to me having further questions about what is/isn't allowed for the Awakened form and not wanting it to be misconstrued as me procrastinating posting my sheet.

Character Sheet

Basics

Name:Roland Chambers
Age: 34
Appeared Age:34-67 (dependent on how obscured face is)
Height:6'3''
Weight:200 lbs
Eye Color: When Roland mutated his irises turn an amber yellow color, while his pupils became more oblong, dilating to light in a manner similar to a cat or a snake.

My Hider

Hair Color: Grey
Physical Disabilities: While usually not a hindrance the place that Roland was stabbed during his crucifixion will be a source of pain strong enough to be distracting if he extensively uses his powers or takes blood thinners. It also tends to agitate him when there's going to be a storm.
Physical Identifiers:

• Scar over left eye, scars from puncture wounds on the lower abdomen, wrists and ankles
• Brand over left pectoral muscle of a broken circle; looks similar to the Quake logo.
• grey hair
• Longinus

Appearance:Once one looks closer at the scruffy grey haired man and realize he isn't geriatric they might think he's ruggedly handsome with his square jaw, trimmed beard and action hero like scar. If for whatever reason they saw him undressed they'd probably be shocked by the myriad scars across his torso and legs that were earned through years of torture and combat, including the brand that nearly cover his left pectoral muscle.

face

clothing

Roland's usual wear is camouflage fatigues similar to ones he wore while a scout for The Soulless. Usually keeping the sleeves rolled up for air circulation and unhindered mobility, Roland also possesses a webweave harness he uses to carry his essentials and weapons if he somehow lost his backpack. He also possesses a scarf he uses not just to block sand and to work as a light poncho, but to conceal his Longinus when he goes into town. Like many other people across Dust Roland wears fingerless gloves so that he may fire his gun without being slowed down.

Background

Residence:Wanderer
Profession: Bounty Hunter/Mercenary
Aligned Faction: Neutral. While Roland doesn't bear a grudge against anyone, The Forsaken see him as a traitor while other factions see him as a member of The Forsaken. This usually leads to him being hated by just about everyone.
Relatives: None

Backstory

Roland the slave, Roland the dog, Roland the conscript, Roland the warrior, Roland the Immortal, Roland the Optio, Roland the Soulless, Roland the Broken. These are but a few of the titles Roland has amassed in his lifetime. When Roland was five years old when The Forsaken raided his small village and took him as a spoil of war where he was first used as both a prostitute and as a 'squire' for those in gladiatorial games, cleaning up the messes left behind after the bouts and helping the competitors to gather their equipment as well as 'ease their nerves.' During one such incidence in which one of his masters forced himself upon Roland they became violent sooner than usual and in the moment, Roland bit their manhood off, proceeded to claw out their eyes, and tear into their jugular leaving the man dead mere minutes before his battle. Seeing promise in the boy Roland soon found himself in The Forsaken's hodge-podge army where he learned how to fight and live off the land. Roland was a clever child and soon rose up the ranks over the years through tactics that were considered suicidal even by The Forsaken's standards and was no longer a conscript and rose to the rank of officer and as such, earned the right to literacy.

Roland was an exemplar of The Forsaken's culture who had earned the right to be a gladiator at Forbes' grand stadium, though not under the circumstances he imagined. His first match? The legitimate child of the first man he had murdered. Ever since Roland's first kill it had become easier and easier for him to dehumanize those he was slaying, those he'd aid in capturing to work the mines. The realization had left him feeling sick for days leading up to the match until it finally came. After a long and drawn out battle, Roland had finally defeated his opponent, without having to slay him. However when his back was turned the opponent then revealed he had strapped dynamite to himself blowing himself up only a few short meters away from Roland. It was at this point Roland's abilities revealed themselves allowing himself to form a shield that took the brunt of the impact, the rest of it sending him across the field from the battered but alive, revealing that the nausea and cold sweat he had before the fight wasn't just the jitters, but symptoms of his transformation. Now known as an Immortal Roland was seen as too essential to be used as entertainment and was place back into the military to hone his ability while securing the king's interests. Drunk on power and fame Roland found it easier than ever to suppress his conscious and with his new abilities, Roland made a meteoric rise through the Legion and social echelons. Eventually he was chosen to be a member of The Soulless, the best of the best where he received new training in not just the Longinus, but espionage and special tactics. He was to be The king's hand, imparting his will above Roland's own, by any means necessary if need be.

During one of their intensive training regiments they were to be buried alive and have to dig their ways out or die trying. While Roland made it out easily thanks to his abilities and soon enough others did too. Surprisingly enough a majority of unit were also able to break free of their coffins and make their way out of the sand. Or so it had first seemed. When the others of his unit congratulated each other and went to go feed and fuck in celebration Roland had stayed behind to admire his handiwork and have a smoke when he heard muffled screaming which he had realized was the smallest and weakest of his unit, Eobard. While he wasn't the strongest or the fastest or even the bravest, Eobard had joined the ranks of The Soulless by having a natural inclination towards medicine and with formal training could be a doctor. Despite his role as their unit's medic Roland was just as ready as the rest of his unit to leave him behind after all, he was unable to get out of his grave, he'd just wind up in one somewhere else right? Even still Roland was hesitant to walk away and that's when he heard it again. The voice that he had first heard in the hallway before his first gladiatorial bout. The voice that had pleaded with him every time he got into a fight, saw a hungry child, a three legged puppy and a sad whore. Uriel the Merciful. A schizophrenic manifestation of what was left of his conscience, Roland had spent the years since he had first gained his powers using every vice and drug under the sun to try and suppress their voice but when they did it didn't seem to be because of anything Roland would do. Please, Uriel pleaded, Save this one. Even if you won't do it because it's right you know he's valuable! You know what he can do! After much dragging of his feet and listening to Eobard's sobbing Roland finally conceded on the agreement that if Uriel would be quiet until Roland called for them Roland would save the wimp. In a few seconds Roland had dispersed the sand entombing Eobard and even tore open his coffin. While Eobard had first cowered thinking that Roland was going to kill the manchild himself he had instead grabbed him and pulled him out, telling him to hurry up when the blond haired, sun-burned scarecrow of a man asked him why he saved him, Roland simply said, "Well I reckon that it'd be a mighty big shame if someone as smart as you died in such a stupid way."

When Eobard reminded him that the others would kill them in an even more horrible way Roland devised the brilliant of deciding not to tell them anything. Through out the rest of training Roland would help Eobard with the more physical aspects of their training while Eobard the more intellectual. Over time Roland learned that their medic had a similar story to his. Eobard had been taken as a slave when his family was on his way to Forbes from Fairbury to pick up cadmium when raiders struck. 10 years old at the time Eobard was just starting his apprenticeship with his father when he was captured and put through many of the same trials and tribulations that Roland himself was, his only saving grace was his rudimentary medical knowledge proved he was too useful to put on the front lines when he was conscripted where eventually he ended up where he was. By the time their training was done the two were genuine friends who would not see each other for some time as Eobard was to be part of the medical corps while Roland would become a scout serving The Forsaken as a scalpel rather than cleaver.

After countless missions serving the king's will, the elite soldier was ordered to be part of a century of Soulless Ones to attempt reconnaissance north of Quinton, past the endless white obelisks that warn all those who might pass that they were entering into foreign territory. Edenite territory. They were only three miles into the land when they struck- still able to see the border between the two lands. Their enemies were unseen and they were slaughtered by the dozens. It was then that Roland transformed into his Awoken form and after that, he remembered nothing else, aside from waking up far from the site of the slaughter in the remains of what looked to be a black, broken chrysalis. After finally getting his bearing and realizing he was near the outskirts of Quinton, Roland resupplied what he could in Quinton he returned to the border to see his entire century wiped out.

Taking this news straight to Ironhold he was immediately called a liar, a coward and a traitor. His punishment to be death by crucifixion. Stripped naked and nailed to a cross, Roland was pierced with his own Longinus and was to have a slow and agonizing death. It was during this time where what little strength Roland had was spent using his powers to keep his guts from spilling out and finally ready to die when the guard who was assigned to watch over him in case he escaped suddenly had his brains blown across the sun scorched land. It was him. Eobard. It had seemed while Roland had spent most of his time in foreign territory fighting for king and country
Eobard had slowly been rising through the ranks until he became one of the King's physicians. Using his own Longinus to remove the spikes Eobard sneaked him into the medical wing of the King's fortress for aid. Unable save Roland by himself Eobard was able to convince them that having an Immortal owe you a life debt was sure to pay off and so surgery commenced. After weeks of treatment where he was confined to a bed (that was often hurriedly sneaked somewhere else) where the only other 'person' he had to talk to was Uriel.
It was during this time that Roland was taught about a different form of honor, of helping those weaker than yourself, not just so that you may exploit them, but so that their life is easier. When Roland finally recovered his strength, he decided that for him to understand this strange being's way of thinking (and finally shutting them up) he must go out and experience it for himself before truly deciding what is the true way of honor. Drawing the blade, or never unsheathing it.

Gear

Weapons:

• The Calvary: A Colt Python .357 magnum caliber revolver, Roland rarely uses this but keeps it around with good reason. this behemoth is easy to load and enough stopping power to slow a weaker hollow long enough to change the course of a battle. Is kept strapped to his right thigh.
• Plumbata: Three weighted darts about the length of Roland's forearm, they are strapped onto his vamprace, ready for him to launch at a moment's notice
• Bowie Knife:Just a simple bowie knife usually used for non-combat purposes but still ready if need be.
• Longinus: named after the Roman soldier who pierced the side of Christ with his spear, the Longinus is the trademark weapon of The Soulless. Originally artifacts from the old world their original purpose wasn't as weapons, but were in fact were used for construction of deep sea labs and deep mines, made up of highly dense graphene and nanotubes, that are telescopic in nature. However the Forsaken weren't interested in space-age ways of keeping mines from collapsing but kick-ass spears that were nigh-indestructible and could shift the placements of blades at a moments notice through the usage of three dials that are on the handle. Such an elegant weapon for a more civilized age is hard to come by and even harder to master, and because of this are reserved for the elite of the elite among The Forsaken and as such has become not only an exotic weapon but a badge of office...And a harbinger of death. In practical terms, the Longinus is a double ended spear that can extend to a maximum of fourteen feet that has blades not only on both ends, but blades that can emerge at each joint/lock of a segment allowing for an unpredictable and deadly weapon. For a rough idea of what one may look at, compare the combi-stick from the movie franchise, Predator.
  
  Example

  
  

Armor: Roland possesses the bare minimum of armor preferring to be fast enough to get behind cover before the enemy has their sights on him. The only armor that Roland wears is a vamprace on his left arm and a knee pad on his right leg.
Ammunition:

• Dirty Rounds: .357 rounds x24
• High Grade Rounds:
• Heavy Ammunition:Dynamite x1

Backpack :

• One week of trail rations
• rope
• medkit
• sleeping roll
• duct tape
• Grappling hook
• Pot
• Tarp
• cigarettes
• blood thinners
• Bike clips
• dynamite

Webweave Belt:Cantina, Lighter, Monocular, flashlight, Longinus (left front side), Bowie knife (back of the waist, horizontally)

Immortalis Information

Manifested Phenomena: Telekinesis
Unique Abilities:

• Swift as a Coursing River/With All The Force of a Great Typhoon- Roland is able to use his telekinesis to drastically increase his strength and agility, being able to smash through a support column and leap onto a small building in a single bound, or run twice his normal sprinting speed.
• Gremlin- By touching an object, Roland can interact with the smaller parts of it, be it causing a gun to jam, unlocking a door, or activating switches that he can't directly touch.
• Telephone- Roland is able to 'tune' items indirectly so long as he is touching something that is touching it. With each subsequent item, different material, and distance what he can do weakens.

Strengths:

• Mysterious as the Dark Side of the Moon- Roland's training as a scout for The Soulless allows him to sneak into just about anywhere, and track people and animals with ease.
• Elegant Savage- Roland is a master of melee able to engage a roomful of armed people with nothing but a chair leg and walk out with hardly a sweat.

Weaknesses:

• Muh Honor- While he isn't always challenging people these days, when Roland is directly challenged by another person he will refuse to back down no matter how bad the odds are. At other times Roland will refrain from using his powers to keep things 'fair' in the process recklessly himself, and potentially others, rather than just using his powers to end the battle quickly and decisively.
• Infamous- People who recognize his Longinus will recognize him as a member of The Soulless of The Forsaken and treat him accordingly, while The Forsaken themselves will treat him as a traitor guilty of the highest treason.
• Hands on Approach- While Roland's abilities are strong he struggles to move anything that he isn't touching be it directly or indirectly. The strongest/fastest use of his ranged-ability when not channeling through a conduit is the retrieval of small items that he has usually already launched such as his darts or his Longinus.
• Sentimental Type- Despite it being perhaps the toughest thing to survive the apocalypse, Roland will go charging into a burning building if it means his Longinus is still inside and will usually put other things on hold while he searches for his beloved weapon.

[Antediluvixen]

I made a creature thing.

Styx Owls

Name: Styx Owl
Species: Bubo virginianus infernus
Rarity: Common
Behavior: Hostile if provoked, Predator, Scavenger
Location(s): Dust's Mountains
Key Points: Almost exclusively nocturnal, territorial during the night, live in cave hollowed into the rock faces of Dust's mountains.

Appearance: The most immediately noticeable trait of the Styx owl is its massive talons, long, hard, and sharp enough to pierce steel. The birds are large, slightly larger than an Andean condor, with a wingspan of about four meters and a weight of nearly 20 kilograms. They bear a distant resemblance to the Great Horned Owl, but the feathered "horns" of the pre-apocalypse owl have given way to rigid and wickedly pointed barbs, albeit with feathery fringe. The birds are considerably darker and in fact almost pitch black, hence their name, and have retained the nearly silent flight of the Great Horned. Their eyes are generally a liquid gold color and are striped through with jets of black. Their calls are for the most part like those of the Great Horned, save for their attacking cry let loose when they are but moments from striking their target, which sounds uncannily like someone screaming in rage and despair- another inspiration for their name.

[SirBeowulf]

Apes.

Name:
New Age Ape. Monkey. Proto-human.

Species:
Hominoidea. Some might call them the replacement homo sapiens.

Rarity:
There's likely only a few colonies of these beasties out there on the island.

Behavior:
These hominoidea behave strikingly similar to humans. A couple hundred years of survival after the Impact gave them plenty of time to change and develop their large brains. Like their human kin, they're quite territorial. The one guy who was said to have gone near their place ended up coming back bruised and beaten, only a few inches from death. Intelligence wise, they're on par with children for the most part. Problem solving skills, developing technology. Their weaponry consists of sharpened spears and slings. A few scavenged technologies. Apes with god damn automatic rifles.

Location(s):
Some say there's a colony of around a hundred of them living in a ruined city near Dresden, but these rumors are unconfirmed. Others say they were originally monkeys that lived in a pre-fall zoo that managed to live through it all and come out fine in the end.

Key Points:

• Superior intelligence to their previous ancestors.
• A rising problem for the town of Dresden, as they occupy an city full of important scavenge-able items.

Appearance:
A very close resemblance to their human brothers. Most of them stand fairly tall, around five feet, save for their alpha who stands at six. They have large barreled chests and resemble gorillas for the most part. No tails, sadly enough. Still, they're very muscular and strong. A fully grown male could likely out-strength an average human man. Most usually wear loin cloths and ragged tunics as well, so don't worry about getting a glimpse of monkey junkey.

I also made a creature thingy.

THEY BLEW IT UUUUUUUUPP.

[Syben]

@SirBeowulf GIve it a name haha, you don't need a profile until your character awakens. (The Spark. I mean)

Cool creatures guys, but Beowulf exactly what town do these apes occupy? "A rising problem for the town of Dresden, as they occupy an city full of important scavenge-able items." or are the apes trying to scavenge the city?

[Shotgun Bear]

Just thought I'd drop by and say 'yeah fuck it I'm in.'

I'll have a sheet toot sweet.

[Syben]

@Arcanaut I have to go to work like, right now. I will read your cs when I get home.\

@Shotgun Bear Fuck yea! I'm awaiting. Welcome to the wasteland.

[SirBeowulf]

@SirBeowulf GIve it a name haha, you don't need a profile until your character awakens. (The Spark. I mean)

Cool creatures guys, but Beowulf exactly what town do these apes occupy? "A rising problem for the town of Dresden, as they occupy an city full of important scavenge-able items." or are the apes trying to scavenge the city?

@Aeonumbra

What I meant by that is that the apes have a colony in a pre-fall city. They occupy it, preventing people from entering the city to look for scavenge-able items and important metal and scrap.

[Syben]

@SirBeowulf Re-thinking this, the apes are a little too humanoid, making them a faction: And a blatant rip-off, not to be rude. (I Am abrasive). Can I mulligen your creature for a fresh idea?

[SirBeowulf]

Blatant rip-offs are my specialty.

And yeah, you can do with them what you will. They were mostly a bored idea. I gave the Spark a name by the way, is Euphie/Euphonos a good name? Euphie being a nickname, of course.

[Syben]

@Arcanaut

• Please add description of eyes (A static image conveys a static idea, whereas perhaps there are moving specks?) You can keep the picture.
  
• Reference pictures, while useful, are not as telling as a written description. (Appearance) You can keep the pictures, within hiders: Though do not use hiders for the written portion, please.
  
• Aligned Faction: "Considered enemy of The Forsaken as well as those against the Forsaken" is.. a tad confusing, is an enemy to all?
  
• Backstory: " It was at this point Roland's abilities revealed themselves sending him across the field ", what abilities? I don't remember reading how, or when, he joined with a spark.
  
• Backstory:I don't understand why there would be no evidence of the bodies, blood, or anything, but they leave your character their because.. why? Convenience, purely.
  
• Backstory: "by crows and burned by the endless sun that Roland met his spark" Oh, there's that spark joining. Did you bother reading the lore I wrote? Actually, there's more lore errors than just the super powers without the spark. The character can't awake without a spark, as it is a manifestation of the spark. Uriel cannot "help" him remove himself from the cross, as the phenomena is gained by the joining, meaning the Spark has no prior knowledge of it, nor can Uriel take over his mind and do it for him, as the Spark can only take over during the awakened state. I suggest you read, or reread the lore, and redraft your backstory.
  
• Backstory: I'm really glad he was found by these doctors dudes who had the equipment necessary to perform microscopic surgery on his intestines, and treat the infections ensuing from wounds like that. Also, Blood loss in this case is still going to be very severe - nearly all the abdominal organs are pretty amply supplied with arterial blood. It's a bit hard to work out precisely, but the combined cross-sectional area of the arteries supplying the liver, kidneys and intestines appears to be about equivalent to that of a femoral artery. Meaning he would bleed to death in a couple a minutes at best, not even factoring in his crucifixion wounds, probable dehydration, and it's popularized that crows would go for the softer tissues first, his open wounds, his disemboweled midsection, and his eyes and tongue. I see absolutely no possible way this character is alive-- In fact he should have died about four times now.
  
• Armor: The armor he posses is accurately portrayed in the picture ... but without telekinetic shielding he is considered without armor. What? Does he or doe he not have armor? (Telekinetic shielding is not armor.) Also, Picture referencing his armor.. should be moved to armor section.
  
• Abilities: Long name is long: "Run so fast he becomes a blur" I agreed upon improved speed, but that's a bit drastic. Tone it down to like, twice as fast of a person sprinting?
  
• Abilities: Gremlin: That is not what tuning is, it does not give him the clairvoyance to see inside the working object and manipulate it. He would have to actually know what he was doing.
  
• Abilities: Rail Gun: This is tuning.
  
• Abilities: Spy Moon Guy: Training as a spy? You mean Soulless? How exactly does one know to acquire important pieces of information... if they do not understand what they are looking at; other than common sense which really isn't a special ability now is it?
  
• Abilities: Elegant Savage: Don't use specific situations as a fact. (This is really just a tip, not really a problem). Everything has a circumstance, that metaphorical room of people he could engage, they could all be immortals, or bears in disguise.
  
• Abilities: Muh Honor: Just need clarification on the last sentence, when he does use his powers to incapacitated, or when he does not? The "not" doesn't seem like it fits.
  
• Abilities: Muh Hands (:P): I will allow him to move small objects without much weight without tuning to them, and his longinus because of the familiarity of the weapon.

[Syben]

@SirBeowulf Sir, that is a good name. I also don't feel that the blatantly rip-offed apes quite fit in my world. And for multiple other reasons, I hope you're no too sad at my denying them.

Also keep in mind that for the past three-four days I've had a total of 10 hours of sleep, or less, and I will be reevaluating your character sheet just to make sure I didn't gloss over something. No pressure though, I'm sure it's fine.

[Arcanaut]

How about my creature?

Skiev

Name:Skiev
Species:Hollow Worm
Rarity:Uncommon
Behavior:Aggressive, Nocturnal
Location(s):Exclusive to Sandy Dunes
Key Points:

• grow up to 3 feet in length
• bloodsuckers
• attack in swarms
• afraid of fire

The Skiev is a swarm class worm hollow that have hyper evolved from the old world Macrobdella decora better known as leeches, to survive their now much dryer environment. Primarily located near the south end of the continent by Dead-End, Skievs live far from roads inside the giant dunes that make up the yellow zone. Their habitats extend as far as the less populous areas around Forbes but there have allegedly been sightings as far north as Wolf Water. These highly aggressive critters will swim through the dirt at around 20 mph when they are ready to attack their prey and will circle them in the sand similar while they take turns jumping at their prey attempting to latch on. Once one has successfully grabbed hold the rest will soon follow until they have sucked their victim dry. As terrifying as these creatures are, if you are able to seek shelter even if it's inside a car you should be safe. If this is not an option it is recommended you find a stone to stand on and carry a torch with you and wait until dawn. While something as small as a torch won't dissuade the creatures from attacking, burning one is the safest and quickest way of getting a Skiev to let go once they've attached themselves to you. Skievs tend to swim in schools of 30-50 all though it is hard to get a specific number due to their method of hunting.

[Syben]

@Arcanaut The creature is good, I like it, I will add it when I get a chance. Eating right now and gotta go do lifey stuff though. Also replace "Yellow Zones" with "Sandy Dunes".

[Shotgun Bear]

@Aeonumbra

My characters tend to be unapologetically vibrant.

Feel free to nail me for not matching the theme of gritty and brown.

Schatz

Basics

more like 'hider the rest of your body'

Alternate perspective, older image

Name: Renata 'Schatz' Monsigny
Age: 24
Appeared Age: 18-23, depending on who you ask
Height: 5'8''
Weight: 132 lbs.
Eye Color: A series of radial markings mar her pupil, ranging from deep green to violent, glowing neon. Her irises radiate light of a similar color.
Hair Color: Excessively salmon. It's dyed. Natural brunette.
Physical Disabilities: She and clothes don't get along too well, thanks to her powers. No sensation in the majority of her left arm and slightly weaker motor skills.
Physical Identifiers:

• Dragon tattoo reaches all the way across her shoulderblades and wraps around to the base of her spine.
• Big old burn on her arm.

Appearance: Schatz is, by her own terms, a 'pretty lady.' Curvy-though-a-bit-thin, she takes extreme pride in her appearance. Her hair sits in such a way that it hides a particularly nasty scratch running from her jaw to the base of her ear, and the way it's styled is entirely intentional. Her taste in clothing is more due to necessity than it is personal taste, but Schatz still takes the time to make sure she at least looks unique. Her taste in violent color is an extension of her personality, and the racing checkers an insight into her passion.

That being said, Schatz could just as easily have opted for a skirt and actual shoes. Her clothing is as surprisingly easy to move in as it is astonishingly provocative, and it's more likely that her personal choices were more to reach the pedals of her gigantic heaps of rapidly moving metal than they were for being on one's feet all day. Even so, the care she puts into her wardrobe--white clashes hard with the wasteland day-to-day--is meticulous and entirely unnecessary, yet she still keeps to it.

Currently working on building muscle definition after her run-in with certain doom, she's still recovering from her comatose foray, and it shows. She's still terribly slim, and her stomach has only really built up fat, leaving it smooth. Her arms have gotten strong, however, from practice swings with Chutney.

Background

Residence: Laguna
Profession: A sort of taxi—she'll ferry you all over the island if you don't mind the breakneck speeds she prefers and you pay bullets up front.
Aligned Faction: Though not actually enlisted, she subscribes to the tenets—and the prosperity entailed—of the Motum Diversum.
Relatives:

• Albert Mosnigny: “Old fuck that smelled like cheese! And prejudice. I mean—he didn't smell like prejudice. He was an asshole. He may have smelled like asshole, though.”
• Elaine Skaster: “She remarried, that old bitty! Bit of a slut, if by 'bit' I mean 'total' and 'slut' I mean 'gold digging bleach blonde garbage whore.'
  Who the hell manages to have their hair bleached n--Fuck off!”
• Cailean Monsigny: “The son Bert wanted me to be. Instead, I was born first and Cailean continues to be useless.
  Bit of a shitcanoe.”

Backstory

Renata is a simple girl with simple pleasures: Namely, pleasuring herself, explosions, and the occasional hit of epinephrine.

Usually mixtures of the three. An adrenaline junkie since she fell off a cliff at the age of six, saved only by a fox breaking her fall (and its spine), Renata's trademark was boundless amounts of enthusiasm. Her father, co-owner of Monsigny & Bodle, a popular scrapping and rigging establishment, made a tidy sum, dressed tidy, and led a tidy lifestyle. Renata was not. Prone to scavenging in her youth, she acquired the nickname Schatz from her mother—which was both a byword for 'sweetheart' and 'treasure.' It stuck, as it fell in line with her natural narcissistic tendencies. Schatz grew from scavenger to tinker, toying with motor parts and wheels she could pilfer from her dad's scrapyard.

Renata has something of a history with fractures. Her first 'car'--basically an engine with three wheels and a seat—crashed into a tree at 15 miles an hour and snapped her knee backwards. She broke her arm in two places in the subsequent runs with the half-destroyed 'vehicle.' Schatz's happy place was away from her family and among danger. She spent more time in the scrapyard in her youth than in her own home; climbing things, breaking bones, making things blow up—her solace was disaster. It was in Schatz's teenage years that she found her love of adrenaline was something more than just a passion; it bordered on fetishistic. She didn't so much want the high as she did lust for it, and her taste for danger turned into a full-blown addiction.

Much to the chagrin of her pursuers, this meant that most makeout sessions took place at 60 miles an hour.

Her affection for speed became something entirely more lucrative when she realized her juryrigged contraptions could easily ferry people across the landscape. At the age of 19, she opened up her own business, a taxi service meant for the wanderers of the wasteland.

Schatz's first voyage ended in tragedy. The vehicle's fuel tank burst, engulfing her passenger and nearly reducing Schatz herself to ash. Her left arm was burned terribly, though the rest of her bailed clear of the carnage. Worse yet, she was in the middle of the desert, two days from Harlem and she certainly wasn't making the trek up the Big Empty. With a useless arm and no means of rapid travel, Schatz's optimism turned fatalistic in a heartbeat. If it wasn't for a dishonored Aqueous wandering the badlands, she was sure to have died. Covered in rags and carrying a pack mule's share of survival gear, the man must have gone mad from the heat. His attire was strange; in respect for his sacrifice, Schatz took his hat, which helped keep the sand out of her nose.

His corpse facilitated her survival. She not only made it to Harlem, but took it upon herself to finish the hike all the way to Laguna. On the thoroughfare, though, she came upon more impediments than Schatz would care to admit; she had the body of an outdoorsy mechanic and no weapon to defend herself with. By the time she'd made it back home, Schatz was down to the clothes on her back and her stomach was screaming for sustenance. It was then that she came up with the idea for Chutney. Given her slim-but-solid frame, she was used to carrying weights, not slinging them around. In order to protect herself, she enlisted the help of a few close friends and scoured her father's scrapyard. In the process, she found an old yellow poncho stashed into a car's chassis and a couple of magnets. With the help of a particularly resourceful tailor, the newsboy cap and now-scarf became something of Schatz's trademark, if only as a neat party trick.

In the process of protecting herself against her own dumb mistakes, she took it upon herself to get a tattoo—a reminder that just because something is fun does not make it any less ill-fated. Schatz worked on making her machines more passenger-friendly, perusing the scrapyard's new acquisitions for viable, functional parts. Neither hammer nor reminder could save Schatz from herself, though. After three years' worth of refining, she'd finally created a vehicle capable of making it from Sinoma to Serenity with great ease. Of course, being the girl she was, she decided to run it over the tallest dune she could find as a final test. She'd been ill for the past few days, but she thought nothing of it and pushed on with the test run.

She sneezed, her fingers slipped and the wheel spun underneath her.

Her rib cage turned to splinters. Her breath stuck like a molten iron in her throat. Death approached, shrouding the edge of her vision with its cape fashioned of the void. A Spark of life, however, came to her in her dying moments.

It was then that her powers arose. She felt her bones move. She felt every splinter mesh and crack and force itself together, an eternity of utter agony, and then... Black.

Schatz was in a coma for a month. When she woke, a wisp of her former self, the bedsheets were on fire. Or—they weren't. Something was burning underneath. She could feel it. It was like her skin was being barbequed. Her atrophied, bony arms threw the sheet to the side with great effort, and she realized the source of the fire was herself. By the time the nurse had arrived, Schatz was spreadeagled on the cool tile floor, her patient's gown thrown haphazardly over the bedside.

By the time her next birthday came around, Schatz had grown into the powers bestowed upon her. Though she lamented not being able to carry around backpacks or stand too close to magnets, her indomitable optimism pushed her ever onward. Finally living with a mote of trepidation before diving headlong into disaster, the Schatz today takes the ramifications of her actions into account—but she'll still probably do terminally stupid things anyway.

She's like to take it upon herself to 'help the world,' somehow.

Gear

Weapons:

• Chutney: As in, will turn you into chutney. A big, dumb rocket hammer made out of a wheel, road spikes, a motor, a bunch of rockets, a fuel tank, a car battery attached to an extension cord and a chainsaw's ignition pull. The wheel serves as a sort of chainsaw, with the road spikes welded to the rubber--this is the electrical aspect of the hammer. The rockets on the other end, however, require fuel and allow Schatz to swing far beyond her capacity. The road spikes are highly magnetic, but the rocket exhausts on the back are not. It's big. It's dumb. Beyond all rational probability, it works.
  It will fuck you to pieces.
  Somehow, it's amazingly stable and can even be ridden for short distances. Clocks an uneven 20mph.
  (It also has a sixteen hour charge time for four hours of use.)

Armor:

Hat: It's awfully important to note that the hat comes down. The yellow band is actually a nylon sack attached to the brim, and the goggles are part of the hat itself. Schatz can pull it down as a shield against dirt and wind.

Scarf: Is not actually a scarf. The two long bits are actually tassels and are attached to the 'scarf' from underneath. A makeshift seal made out of magnetic rocks in a rubber tube congruent to Schatz's hat protect her against any unwanted foreign matter, and the scarf can be pulled out and away from its tucked position to turn into a poncho.
Obviously, Schatz prefers to use neither of these if she doesn't have to. Often, she'll only do so if she really doesn't want her clothes to get dirty or she is driving absurdly, disgustingly fast.

Ammunition:

• Dirty Rounds: None. She and guns don't get along too well.
• High Grade Rounds: 37 .454 rounds for the sake of trade.
• Heavy Ammunition: If she had any, they'd be fireworks within the hour.

Messenger Bag (It lies on her hip, which isn't terribly offensive to her skin.)

• Items Within:

Two canteens, a couple small metal pipes, a sheet, and some kindling--Schatz makes her own fires, but there's not always wood around.

Immortalis Information

Manifested Phenomena: Magnetism
Unique Abilities:

Great Attractor: If a sufficient amount of sufficiently magnetic material is in the air, Schatz could hot-freeze a cloud solid. That being said, she'd need a lot of metal shavings to do so. Essentially, magnetic objects create a field of applied magnetism, for Schatz: this tiny field, less than a millimeter per 10 grams of magnetic material, allows her to attract even non-magnetic objects towards the material.

Ohmosexual: Her body is magnetic. Wounds will immediately close and cauterize due to the rapid frictional force. If the ground is sufficiently magnetic, she can even repel herself off of it and send herself flying forward. Her body, also, is its own stable magnet-- it carries a magnetic field that can be suppressed, and will automatically revert to a 'stable' state--her bones will move back into position if cracked and lacerations will close until it becomes 'Schatz' once again.

Strengths:

But It Was Worth It!: There's just something about a lady who's willing to break her arm just to have her foot get a meeting with your jaw. She's not intimidating so much as she is so impossibly over the top with everything she does. Her optimism is seconded only by her incorrigibility.

It Works! Somehow: If any of the 'working' parts have to rotate really, really fast, it's gonna do it. Schatz'll do it. She'll show everyone.
Subsequently, Schatz'll break all her bones trying to ride it. This hypothetical was worth it.
Don't drive, kids.

You Are Not... Were Not Prepared: By the very nature of her abilities, Schatz prefers her fights short. Her taste for spontaneity extends to her scuffles—don't monologue in front of her or you will assuredly be losing limbs during your soliloquy. She thinks on her feet and would rather you didn't have any.

Weaknesses:

Ohm...y God: Her body is magnetic and unstable. At all times, Schatz is overheating from her skin trying to tear itself apart in every direction and rapidly settling in an infinite cycle. While this feeling isn't painful in itself, it bars her from wearing too much clothing for fear of heat exhaustion. This heat is less prominent in the extremities and a raging fire in Schatz's core.

Doc, Everything Burns: Just because her wounds close immediately does not mean that she doesn't feel pain; in fact, she's more likely to pass out due to shock than most people. Also, her skin is so frictional with itself that it cauterizes--that alone should suggest the level of pain Schatz deals with.

Need for Speed: Schatz derives an obscene amount of pleasure from adrenaline. She will, more often than not, do very stupid and dangerous things for the sake of the high.

Fucking Magnets: Schatz can't use guns. Because of her magnetic nature, flimsily made firearms tend to come apart in her hands and the better-made guns never seem to fire right. In fact, she has trouble using most things without simple moving parts; even her automobiles are dumbed down terribly for the sake of her abilities.

Keep in mind that this is all pretty off-the-cuff, so feel free to pick out things you don't think'll fly.