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Art by none other than me

 "Somewhere out there, underneath a different sky full of different stars, I think they sing of me. They’ll sing of us together one day, if we make it far enough."


Name
Strata

Nicknames
The Drifter from the Light

Starface

"Arveia-toth"

Age
108

Gender
Nonbinary | They/Them

Ship Role
Singer of shanties, pleaser of pissed off, people pisser-off of pleased people, and knower of things.

Race
Strata is a plasmoid. Plasmoids are a species of formless, gelatinous creatures with enough intelligence to equal other sentient creatures. Plasmoids lack a defined shape, and therefore are capable of some minor shapeshifting. Their bodies are made of plasma, as the name implies, and the only organ in their body is what is called a ganglia. This can be found where a human's heart is, and simulates everything from five senses to every function needed for survival. The plasma that makes their body simulates touch, and is incredibly stiff. Because it's essentially slime, it means bullets or other puncture wounds are largely harmless to them. Pieces of their bodies cut away can be stuck back together with some effort, and a plasmoid is never truly dead unless the core in their body is destroyed completely.

Plasmoids tend to take on characteristics of the environment they live in, which is why Strata looks like a walking galaxy.


Personality
Strata is the definition of “chaotic neutral.” They hold no respect or disapproval for authority figures, they make friends and enemies as their heart desires, and are as honest or cheating as is suitable for a given moment. Strata is naturally an easygoing and free-spirited slime creature, and easy to get along with despite their track record of gaslighting the most threatening people in a room. When Strata takes a liking to people, they follow them like lifelong friends with the intention of being there for the laughs and shenanigans. The stories that are to be told and the battles to be fought are like guilty pleasures to Strata, and are as tempting to them as the prospect of getting drunk is to someone after a hard day’s work.

Strata doesn’t seem to take many things seriously unless they threaten someone’s life. If it’s their life on the line, the first sign of Strata acknowledging so is a sudden spike in humor, and maniacal cackling that someone usually needs vocal chords for. Strata treats moments of peril and disadvantage like pure comedy, and these are the times when their less restrained side can be seen. When Strata is in the right situations, they’ll go from the calm and mellow bard with a story to tell to the maniac that jumps into the mouth of a giant monster just to throw a grenade down its throat. Strata’s philosophy of life is to never let it get one over on you; If you laugh at death as hard as you do at a man falling over drunk, you stay winning either way.

Powers/Skills
Shapechanging
While Strata can’t impersonate someone else, they are capable of altering their body’s shape in some ways. This can include growing extra arms, becoming a ball of sludge on the floor, or oozing their way through holes in a floor. If you ever wonder why Strata doesn’t wear pants, this is why.

Plasmic Body
Certain things, such as the vacuum of space or a lack of breathable air, tend to do little to affect Strata. They can survive being stabbed or slice up, but taking out their ganglia would be like decapitating a human. It’s also pretty easy to imprison Strafa. Plasmoids revert to a blob state in their sleep, making them very suitable for being put in a glass jar and stored on a shelf. 

On top of all that, plasmoids might be hard to kill, but they literally don’t have muscles. Don’t bet on Strata in an arm wrestling competition.

Musician
Drifting alone through space for a century, you tend to get good at entertaining yourself. Strata is a damn fine musician capable of playing virtually any instrument. Their personal favorite are the ones with strings.

Been Around the Block
Strata’s older than your grandparents, and probably their grandparents too. There isn’t much that surprises them anymore. You name it, they’ve probably heard of it once or twice before.

Equipment
Mysterious Lute
Something Strata has had with them for decades now. It resembles a guitar, and has a very foreign and almost regal aesthetic. Strata claims was once a vessel for magical power that they were gifted when they saved a priest from a burning ship, but no longer has any power left. A wild claim, and likely just another story, but it sounds beautiful in Strata’s hands.

Laser Gun
A very simple and mundane pistol that fires lasers. It has six shots that it can fire before it must be reloaded. Surprisingly enough, Strata doesn’t haven’t a fantastical story attached to this weapon, and according to them, they bought it in a back alley somewhere next to a bakery. It’s always good to have an actual weapon.

Storybook
Strata’s pride and joy. A very old, and very full notebook full of everything Strata has done in the last century. It is full of all manners of things, ranging from accounts of naval warfare to the last wishes of old friends whose names have been forgotten by all but Strata. Somewhere in this book’s few thousand pages is the exact hand that Strata used to win a poker match against a dragon… Assuming such a tale is true.

Biography
Many, many years ago, there was an empire. This empire was one of truants who held a galaxy in its hands and devoured planets a whim, with not so much as a passing though spared for its trillions of victims.

This empire no longer exists.

The legend says that after the empire was destroyed, its capital fell inwards to the star which it orbited, and from the resulting chaos emerged a meteor. On that meteor was a creature who would sing of lost comrades and freedom for decades, streaking across the dead empire’s territory in such a spectacle that many believed a god had fell from the heavens. Alas, that creature was not a god, and would never be seen again.

Billions upon billions of light years away from the greatest tale Strata ever witnessed, the meteor they rode through space one day crashed against a planet in this region of space. When Strata managed to jump off, they landed on solid ground. Strata stayed on that rock for a few hours, reflecting on the events of their journey, and mourning the fact that they’d never hear the ending of that story. And then they collected their things, and did as they’d always done: Move on.

Strata’s life was a long and erratic one. Years would pass without any interaction with intelligent life in space, and then they would spend a decade living more thrills than one lifetime could handle. In recent memory, they traveled from place to place, entertaining crowds across the galaxy with their songs, and getting into more bar fights than they could count. One of these bar fights was where they met the Star-Breakers. A drunken rat thought Strata insulted his mother, and Strata simply clocked him over the head with their lute. After the incident, Strata offered to join the group and get off that rock to start the next chapter of their life.
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