Deadnaut

The Crucible - Winner Take All

"A spoiled brat on a power trip, my least favorite form of civvie."

Teller rubbed at his faceplate in pure frustration, and extended his knife hand further. First directing it at the sassier of the pair, he intoned "You oughta heed the advice of your friend there. After all, unless you can trigger that little safety umbrella of yours faster than I can go from a low ready to shooting, that's a second's time at most by the way, you oughta be just as worried about me as she is. As for helping you, if there is something in it for me then I'm happy to lend an assist, so maybe next time you oughta open with 'there'll be something in it for you' not 'we'll allow you to help' eh? Might give a guy the wrong idea, especially when he just got done gunning down another man for, presumably, your own entertainment. Now, since you're here, I presume you did some recon, have an obj to hit? Or did you hurry to RV with me before you did any recon?"

Finally lowering his knife-hand, Teller raised his face-plate so as to not provide a more intimidating visage than was necessary. Walking up to the pair, he couldn't help the sense of dread welling up inside him. Civvies on an op were always, always a bad sign. They didn't know how to move, they always had their own objective and they were all willing to send good soldiers and Marines to their deaths for some abject scientific curiosity. Now, at least here he could at any point decide to fuck off and leave them high and dry if it looked too likely to get him killed. After all, James had no intention of dying here, of letting some ass-wagon walk off with his soul in a necklace. After all, the implication of them gathering souls from opponents and then receiving a wish at the end was....disturbing, to the say the least. After all, he had no intention of letting his soul be consumed so as to provide some other Schmuckatelli with his wish for eternal booze or something similarly stupid.

Broken Skies: War in the Eversky

@13org

Its K, I ain't interesting anyway!

Broken Skies: War in the Eversky

Aura Lockheart

Aura Lockheart

"While you draft that treety, I'll keep you safe!"

Name: Aura R. Lockheart
Age: 44
Race: Dryad

Appearance: Aura stands at the diminutive height of 5'2, with a slight frame and a body kissed by the sun. Weighing in at a healthy 140 lbs and with a thin frame, Aura doesn't quite look the part of a sharpshooter. With hair the color of a red maple's leaves and eyes like cool rain, she does at least seem quite the looker, as most dryads do. She is most often found in simple peasant's clothes spun from wool, unimpressive and unflattering, the only exception to this being the weapons about her person.

Nation of origin: Red League

Personality: Aura is carefree, as many Dryads are, despite her professed profession of "Sharpshooter Extrordinaire". She is a jokester, frequently attempting to make a play on words or a pun in order to keep the mood light. She is a hopeless romantic, often speaking of the love stories that have played out beneath her tree (though the veracity of some of these tales is very much in doubt). She is an optimist at heart, often professing belief in the best possible outcome long past when a more reasonable person may've given up. She has great confidence in herself and her friends, and merrily tries to play the part of team morale officer.

Biography: Aura was born in the woods of the Red League, though she knows not to who. Her earliest memory is of herself lying alone on the upper branches of her tree, staring at the sky. She raised herself with little aid from others, though she at least had the pleasure of not going uneducated. A passing hunter in the woods found the little Dryad in her tree, and there he laid camp for thirty days. He was a superstitious man,
and swore that with the blessing of the little Dryad his hunt would go infinitely better. So, in exchange for her 'blessing' (a concept Aura didn't understand at the tender age of eight), the hunter spent his time in camp teaching the little girl to read. When he departed, she though she'd seen the last of him, but the hunter continued to grace the deep woods that Aura called home with his presence. Each time, he brought books and taught her of the world outside, and of the implements he carried.

Aura's true exposure to the culture she would come to know was when she was seventeen, still but a child by the standards of the Dryad but at least a grown one. The hunter stumbled to her tree, bleeding and battered, where Aura found him on death's door. Steeling her resolve, she did as her instincts said and took a clipping from her tree, weaving it into her hair and gently hefting the hunter, straining to carry his bulk. She brought him back to his town, where a doctor treated him. As thanks for her kindness, she was taken in by the villagers as something of a communal daughter, with each teaching her something. From them she learned to hunt, though she was careful never to kill more than she could make use of, she learned to knit and of the world around her.
The young Dryad was made endlessly curious by their tales, of ships that could embrace the sky, of other nations and other peoples. So, driven by these tales, she resolved to see it all. The village sent her away with a bundle of clothes and a hunter's gear, telling her bits of sage wisdom she still endeavors to make use of.

Travelling the Eversky, some heard of a dryad with hair like a dragonkin whose aim seemed unerring, who would work for strangely low prices. It was this reputation, for skill not low prices, that lead to her being on occasion hired by the World Court. They found the young, naive Dryad not only provided security, but showed some ability to aid diplomatic negotiations, even if only by not appearing intimidating. It was this reputation for both diplomacy and mastery of her rifle that lead to her being sought for this newest mission of the World Court, in its hour of desperate need.

Skills:

• Child of Nature: Having grown up in the wilds, along with her innate connection to nature, Aura is a natural survivalist. In nearly any environment, save a desert, she can keep a party alive.
• A Hunter's Aim: Aura is a great shot, able to place a bullet wherever she wants it under most reasonable circumstances. Any target from a deer's lungs to a man's heart, she doesn't miss her mark.
• Nature's Artistry: Aura is something of an accomplished artist, at least in the field of woodcraft and canvas. She can paint a pretty picture to be sure, but she is far better at inscribing it in wood.
• Treety Maker: Aura is something of an amateur diplomat, and often tries to disarm situations.
  However where most diplomats use shrewd political maneuvering, Aura has only an earnest demeanor and a ready smile.

Weaknesses:

• A Child's Naivete: Even with her travels, there is much and more Aura hasn't experienced.
  As a result, she is blind to the culture of many places, and sometimes offends with little gestures she doesn't realize should be offensive, this issue is only compounded by her first nearly twenty years being spent alone.
• A Natural Mistake: Aura is forgiving to a fault, and as a result she finds it hard to cling to a grudge, even those she should keep. She'll be the first to insist against hurting someone for stealing and the last to assume the worst of anyone she meets.
• A Friend to Nature: Aura, as most Dryads do, shares a connection to the environment around her. As such, she cannot bring herself to condone any real harm to it. She will not stand for those who would destroy the land for pure profit or expedience, and can be difficult to hold back when confronted with such a person.

Equipment:

• A Hunter's pack: A backpack filled with a hunter's necessities, a camouflaged net, a skinning knife, animal calls and other assorted pieces of equipment.
• Hunting Rifle
  
  The Weapon's Unengraved Form

  
  
  A reliable weapon whose name and model number Aura never learned, this is the rifle she has carried since she was first taught to use it. She has long since lovingly carved not only her own name, but various depictions of the forest in which she grew, making the weapon very distinctly hers
• A hunter's belt:A simple leather belt which carries spare magazines, a scrimshawer's blade and other eccentricities Aura likes to keep at hand.

Other: N/A(for the moment?)

Broken Skies: War in the Eversky

Guys, I need help! I'm making my CS, but I've hit a serious problem...

I need your tree puns, I need them all!

mad jokes

EDIT:

Alright, thus is the first iteration of my character. I spent most of the creation time trying, and failing, to think of good tree puns.

Aura Lockheart

Aura Lockheart

"While you draft that treety, I'll keep you safe!"

Name: Aura R. Lockheart
Age: 44
Race: Dryad

Appearance: Aura stands at the diminutive height of 5'2, with a slight frame and a body kissed by the sun. Weighing in at a healthy 140 lbs and with a thin frame, Aura doesn't quite look the part of a sharpshooter. With hair the color of a red maple's leaves and eyes like cool rain, she does at least seem quite the looker, as most dryads do. She is most often found in simple peasant's clothes spun from wool, unimpressive and unflattering, the only exception to this being the weapons about her person.

Nation of origin: Red League

Personality: Aura is carefree, as many Dryads are, despite her professed profession of "Sharpshooter Extrordinaire". She is a jokester, frequently attempting to make a play on words or a pun in order to keep the mood light. She is a hopeless romantic, often speaking of the love stories that have played out beneath her tree (though the veracity of some of these tales is very much in doubt). She is an optimist at heart, often professing belief in the best possible outcome long past when a more reasonable person may've given up. She has great confidence in herself and her friends, and merrily tries to play the part of team morale officer.

Biography: Aura was born in the woods of the Red League, though she knows not to who. Her earliest memory is of herself lying alone on the upper branches of her tree, staring at the sky. She raised herself with little aid from others, though she at least had the pleasure of not going uneducated. A passing hunter in the woods found the little Dryad in her tree, and there he laid camp for thirty days. He was a superstitious man,
and swore that with the blessing of the little Dryad his hunt would go infinitely better. So, in exchange for her 'blessing' (a concept Aura didn't understand at the tender age of eight), the hunter spent his time in camp teaching the little girl to read. When he departed, she though she'd seen the last of him, but the hunter continued to grace the deep woods that Aura called home with his presence. Each time, he brought books and taught her of the world outside, and of the implements he carried.

Aura's true exposure to the culture she would come to know was when she was seventeen, still but a child by the standards of the Dryad but at least a grown one. The hunter stumbled to her tree, bleeding and battered, where Aura found him on death's door. Steeling her resolve, she did as her instincts said and took a clipping from her tree, weaving it into her hair and gently hefting the hunter, straining to carry his bulk. She brought him back to his town, where a doctor treated him. As thanks for her kindness, she was taken in by the villagers as something of a communal daughter, with each teaching her something. From them she learned to hunt, though she was careful never to kill more than she could make use of, she learned to knit and of the world around her.
The young Dryad was made endlessly curious by their tales, of ships that could embrace the sky, of other nations and other peoples. So, driven by these tales, she resolved to see it all. The village sent her away with a bundle of clothes and a hunter's gear, telling her bits of sage wisdom she still endeavors to make use of.

Travelling the Eversky, some heard of a dryad with hair like a dragonkin whose aim seemed unerring, who would work for strangely low prices. It was this reputation, for skill not low prices, that lead to her being on occasion hired by the World Court. They found the young, naive Dryad not only provided security, but showed some ability to aid diplomatic negotiations, even if only by not appearing intimidating. It was this reputation for both diplomacy and mastery of her rifle that lead to her being sought for this newest mission of the World Court, in its hour of desperate need.

Skills:

• Child of Nature: Having grown up in the wilds, along with her innate connection to nature, Aura is a natural survivalist. In nearly any environment, save a desert, she can keep a party alive.
• A Hunter's Aim: Aura is a great shot, able to place a bullet wherever she wants it under most reasonable circumstances. Any target from a deer's lungs to a man's heart, she doesn't miss her mark.
• Nature's Artistry: Aura is something of an accomplished artist, at least in the field of woodcraft and canvas. She can paint a pretty picture to be sure, but she is far better at inscribing it in wood.
• Treety Maker: Aura is something of an amateur diplomat, and often tries to disarm situations.
  However where most diplomats use shrewd political maneuvering, Aura has only an earnest demeanor and a ready smile.

Weaknesses:

• A Child's Naivete: Even with her travels, there is much and more Aura hasn't experienced.
  As a result, she is blind to the culture of many places, and sometimes offends with little gestures she doesn't realize should be offensive, this issue is only compounded by her first nearly twenty years being spent alone.
• A Natural Mistake: Aura is forgiving to a fault, and as a result she finds it hard to cling to a grudge, even those she should keep. She'll be the first to insist against hurting someone for stealing and the last to assume the worst of anyone she meets.
• A Friend to Nature: Aura, as most Dryads do, shares a connection to the environment around her. As such, she cannot bring herself to condone any real harm to it. She will not stand for those who would destroy the land for pure profit or expedience, and can be difficult to hold back when confronted with such a person.

Equipment:

• A Hunter's pack: A backpack filled with a hunter's necessities, a camouflaged net, a skinning knife, animal calls and other assorted pieces of equipment.
• Hunting Rifle
  
  The Weapon's Unengraved Form

  
  
  A reliable weapon whose name and model number Aura never learned, this is the rifle she has carried since she was first taught to use it. She has long since lovingly carved not only her own name, but various depictions of the forest in which she grew, making the weapon very distinctly hers
• A hunter's belt:A simple leather belt which carries spare magazines, a scrimshawer's blade and other eccentricities Aura likes to keep at hand.

Other: N/A(for the moment?)

The Crucible - Winner Take All

Making sure to announce I'm not dead. Had a...REALLY bad weekend, but now I'm on the roll again

Broken Skies: War in the Eversky

@Bazmund

Thinking of making a Dryad sharpshooter for the party, so with that in mind I had two questions

1. An echo of the earlier, approx. how long should a Dryad live?
2. How deep is the average Dryad's connection to nature in general? Are we talking 'feel the pain of every tree' or 'other than my home tree, a tree is but a tree'?

Broken Skies: War in the Eversky

Color me interested, seems a fun concept and a quite worthwhile universe.

Cracks in The Sky//Core Catastrophe.

Hmm, an interesting concept, something unlike anything I've ever tried before. Allow me to present my interest.

The Weirdest World War

Historic AND hysteric?

Provided you still want more people, color me interested!

The Crucible - Winner Take All

"Oh what the fuck now? Can't I get just a couple hours without anything happening? That'd be nice."

Shaking his armored head, Teller held his rifle in a low ready with his left hand and with his right formed a knife hand and pointed it at the pair. His voice projected out in a low, gravelly tone "Long time no see Miss Amelia. As for you, ma'am, I got enough sleep, thanks for the concern. Now regardin your investigation,
why in Sam Hill would I want to help out, let alone ask and be 'allowed'? I ain't exactly drowning in good-will here, and no offense to either of you but we sure as hell ain't friends, least not right now. What's in it for me?"

Now, the Captain would usually be more than willing to stop some dumb-ass civvie from getting themselves killed by poking their head where it didn't belong, but here he had limited resources and, indeed, limited vitality. He didn't feel like expressing weakness to one of those college brats, but he was indeed very tired, and he'd need to find somewhere else to set camp up eventually. He had one edge over his fellow competitors, or at least he probably did, as most of them seemed to be civilians. This meant they probably weren't quite as used to the way modern warriors dealt with fatigue, which was to say stubbornly ignoring it, and also they were likely to maintain a more normal sleep schedule, which made night travel safer from his fellow competitors. Shaking his head slightly to clear this off-topic string of thought, he cranked the volume on Yukiko's playlist to help keep him awake.