Dion

Fallout: Rust and Steel

Gregory McDowell

You know the problem with muties? They hit hard, but not hard enough to break T-51 power armor.

Name: Gregory McDowell,

Date of Birth: 2249/04/11, 35 years old.

Sex: Male

Place of Birth: Boston, MA, United States of America

Path: Knight

Rank: Knight-Sergeant

Equipment:

• T-51B power armor set. Gotta keep the squad alive, and the best way to do it is to stand in front of them with a suit of armor that weighs enough to crush a grown man. It is, of course, patriotically painted in the colors of the Brotherhood of Steel -- which is to say, metallic and boring, and only with a logo of the BoS on the chest piece. Underneath, 'Ad Victoriam' is scratched into the metal using a sharp implement.
• Super-sledge. When you're busy protecting and saving lives by being a hero standing in front of your partners, the best way to also do some damage is by swinging a rocket-powered sledgehammer in the general direction of the enemy. Gregory was given this weapon for two reasons - first and foremost, because he's not intelligent enough to use laser weaponry in a way that doesn't endanger those around him, and secondarily, he has the physical strength required to control a powerful weapon like this.
• Brotherhood-fatigues. Can't be repping the Brotherhood of Steel where-ever you go without this key piece of equipment. 'sides, they're comfortable as hell, man.
• Pocket lint. That means to say that a melee weapon professional such as Gregory doesn't need to carry anything other than his armor, his guns (muscles) and his sledgehammer. He'd make the scribe nerds carry his personal affects, if he chose to have any.

Notable Talents:

• No-no word strength/Human Supermutant. Gregory is seriously strong. No, seriously. He will flat out break your hand from a handshake, he'll destroy anyone in an arm wrestling competition, even if they use power armor to assist them hydraulically, and he can punch a mean hole in the wall when he's angry. Some rude rumors say his mom must've been a super mutant, but we all know that's impossible.
• Psychically dull. Gregory lacks the (emotional) intelligence to really be affected by pansy things such as 'combat losses' and 'dead family members.' He's in the Brotherhood of Steel to SMASH, not to talk about his feelings and stuff like that. Gregory is less likely to be affected by psychological struggle, but can come off as 'rude' or 'uncaring' to those not initiated in his superior ways.
• Human Superiority. Ghouls and Supermutants are disgusting creatures that are in every way inferior to humans (even if they are immune to radiation, are physically stronger, and other superior traits that humans don't have) and need to be eradicated if the Brotherhood of Steel ever wants to rebuild a strong, safe America. While Gregory doesn't know about the latter part of that sentence, he certainly knows Rotskins and Muties are bad and the devil and deserve to be destroyed. Synths are probably worse, but he's not smart enough to know of their existence. What this means in practical term is that he will fight ten times as hard against inferior creatures that are not human. Screw you stinkskins.

Laughable Failings:

• Intelligence: 1. Gregory was not academically gifted and has the intelligence to match it. Some people are dropped on their head as a kid or exposed to a little bit too much radiation. The truth is Gregory was probably dropped on his head onto a leaky radiation vat, numerous times. To say he is 'dumb' is generous, as this man consistently has baffled scribes and lancers alike with his complete and utter disregard of knowledge, wisdom, and practical know how. It seems that the only thing that fills this mans brain is knowledge on how to best connect a sledge hammer with a mutant face.
• Flat-earth Stubborn. While Gregory is not really a flat earther, he could very well be. It's just that he's too much of a PATRIOT to believe that the American government would have lied to their own population. They'd never do that. And besides, America is so great they landed on the moon, and more! He saw the spaceship himself, after all, when he went exploring in that old museum, therefore it must be true. No, what this means is that Gregory is unwilling to budge from his (biased) beliefs, ever, even if you provide evidence that without a doubt proves him wrong. You could take him to see the earth was round (for example) and he'd still maintain otherwise.
• Dependent. Much like his bunkerborn counterparts, Gregory is completely and totally dependent on a) propaganda and b) superiors to keep him moving. He has no capacity for critical self thinking, and instead relies on orders to fulfill his duties. He's more than capable of choosing to swing his sledgehammer at a ghoul mid-combat even if he's not ordered to, but anything that requires much more autonomy than that is going to be a real task to him. While some might call this discipline, it is entirely detriment to the functioning of the Brotherhood of Steel as a large organism, as it severely hampers the ability to make quick decisions using discretion. It is unlikely for this reason that Gregory will ever fulfill a leadership role that doesn't involve mindlessly charging into the enemy lines to kill them as hard as you can.

Personality: Gregory's personality is simple - he hates ghouls, mutants, and he'd hate synths if he knew what they were or that they existed. He loves the Brotherhood -- all of them -- and considers them his long lost family. In particular, he loves his superiors, because they are wise and tell him what to do, and so far every time he has done something, it turned out well, so clearly the superiors must be in charge for a reason. All of them also look like the amazing posters that the scribes print and draw that show off how cool, strong and wise the Brotherhood of Steel is. So, they're more like superheroes to him.

He wants to be like them one day, and get to tell everyone else how to smash Supermutants and ghouls over the head with weapons.

On a more personal level, Gregory is decently social, although you can't expect him to carry a conversation about anything that doesn't involve a hundred and one ways to creatively kill ghouls or mutants. Discussing the finer workings of literature, art or culture is something he is not interested in (and will actively mock you for, doing his best to mimic what you sound like, while not at all managing to do so correctly), and telling him he has to 'go easy on the gears when he's using power armor' will just cause him to laugh and say 'you fixed it for me anyway, so I can go break them again.'

He's an idiot. Not much more can be said, and not much more need be said. But if there is anyone you want close by when the supermutants attack, it's Gregory -- he'll stand in front of you and protect you with careless disregard for his own life and safety.

Short Background: Growing up in Boston exposed Gregory at an early age to various people of different creeds, religions (he saw an Atom preacher once, swears it on his life) and ethnicities. He also came in contact with those filthy mutants and ghouls from time to time. Mutants mostly whenever they decided to go raid their settlement, and the ghouls whenever those filthy rotskins from up North came by with their swimmingpool wine. He never liked em, the lot of em, and was very judgemental of them and anyone that associated with them. Even as a kid he knew these people were no good.

He was proven right when a ghoul was caught stealing, and this cemented his belief that they were all bad. It didn't matter that a ghoul later saved a settlement caravan from being raided by tipping them off about raiders. He was just in cahoots with them, and trying to betray them, or something to that effect. Screw ghouls.

It had become apparent early on that Gregory was, for all intents and purposes, intellectually challenged, and so he was promised a life of practicality. He'd be a caravan hand at that settlement with the big spire (lord knows Gregory couldn't remember it's name) and carry produce from the shelves to the brahmin and back. Maybe he'd fight a few raiders with his strength, but that was about all that was expected of him.

Needless to say things turned out a little bit differently. He was 16 when he joined his first caravan, but if one had to guess from his stature, he was already mid-twenties, since he was hulking and massive. The caravan was headed South, traveling to the Pitt to deliver some custom parts or something to that effect. Gregory was not privy to the details of these types of trade deals and even if he was he would not have remembered.

Along the way they were ambushed by super mutants, who killed the brahmin first and everyone else second. Gregory would have died there if it weren't for a Brotherhood of Steel scouting party that had come to scout the Boston airport for... reasons. They dealt with the Supermutants, routing them by virtue of their miniguns and laser rifles, and secured the position before heading out.

They took Gregory with them, promoting him temporarily to a conscript to secure him a rank in the Brotherhood so that the Elder could decide what to do with him.

He never got to meet the Elder (of course) but was simply put to use as a young initiate, moving through the ranks slowly but surely using his strength as great leverage. He mastered the usage of power armor slowly, his intellect or lack thereof getting in the way, but finally did it and was promoted to knight at the ripe age of 26. Some four years later, he'd find himself promoted again to Knight-Sergeant, giving him a nice little upgrade from T45 power armor to T51 power armor, and access to a supersledge. Now that, that was something that Gregory could get used to.

And then, here he was. Meathead Gregory, at your service. Ad Victoriam, brothers!

Another spirit and human type roleplay

@Odin
this was a 1x1 though.
he'll find me elsewhere.

@Vampiretwilight

I already contacted an admin but it might be wise to do the same through PM's.

Another spirit and human type roleplay

@Vampiretwilight as you are the creator of this thread, you can ban people by going here:



and then entering the offenders name here:



This will remove their ability to post here and will hopefully allow you to continue your RP. I've also taken the liberty of contacting a site admin and letting them know to take a look here. Best of luck!

[ROLEPLAY LORE DUMP] BROACIEN.

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The monarchist faith is that of Broacien, which establishes the king of Broacien as god on earth, in essence turning man into god. It's teachings are codified into a book known, among locals, as the Book. Sometimes, it is also referred to as the Book of the Monarch, although this usage is less frequent among the peasantry and becomes increasingly popular the further up the social ranking you move. Within this book the creation mythos find their place, explaining through lengthy stories that the very first Monarch was also King, and it was proclaimed that he had created earth, and that he shall rule it.

Every king that sits on the throne of Broacien has, in one way or another, traced lineage back to this first monarch, however dubious that link may be.

Besides the creation mythos', the book also codified certain rules on life, but as the rules can be altered by the king at will due to their godhood, the rules change from time to time. Aspects that have remained the same, however, are the focus on justice, piety, and generosity. Among those rules that are less frequently mentioned and not as clearly codified are the rulings that rape within marriage is allowed, and rape outside of marriage is allowed if performed on an unwed woman, as well as an explicit passage that codifies that slavery is allowed, but deemed cruel.

The additions to the Book under Gregar I have seen an increased focus on bravery, strength and loyalty for men, whereas for women it was considered a 'duty to the Monarch' to bear as many children, preferably boys, as possible. It has been whispered that this addition was in part due to the Kings need for more soldiers in the future, although monarchist priests are quick to dismiss this.

Internally the Monarchist faith is strictly hierarchical, with a clear division on who is in charge of who. At the top is very clearly the Monarch, both king and god. Below him is the Grand Bishop of Riverhall, who presides over the entire faith in matters that do not interest the king. As such, the powers of the Grand Bishop may vary -- under kings who had no interest in ruling religiously, their powers were omnipotent, under kings that were religious powerhouses, their powers were abysmal.

Under the Grand Bishop are the prince-priests, noblemen that have relinquished their private holdings in favor of taking the robes of Monarchism, and are given (part of) a keep to rule over in religious affairs. Prominent positions are close to the border with the Khalyfate, where they are allowed to engage with Sawarimic heathens on their own volition without needing explicit approval.

Hierarchically speaking, the Robed Swords are beneath the prince-priests, although the powers of the Robed Swords far exceed even those of the Grand Bishop, and the prince-priests as well. Prince-priests can give the robed swords orders in a general sense, unless they are being investigated. For the most part, the Robed Swords are shunned and left alone for fear of attracting unwanted attention from them.

Below the Robed Swords are the other priests, who perform general duties such as tending to their flock, and speaking at masses. Their powers vary from priest to priest, and are largely dependent on the size of their flock. On a grand, national scale, most priests are entirely irrelevant, however.

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Sawarim roughly translates to 'Swords,' although the Desert Lords proclaim that there is no one sword but the Sword of God (Sawarim), and the Sword of God is equal to the all the swords held by the faithful ummah of the Sawarim. So, the word Sawarim instead could be translated as 'the Sword of God, which is the swords of all believers.' Lacking a proper translation, the Broacieniens have instead reneged to simply refer to it as 'Sawarimic faith' or 'Sawarim.'

The Sawarim believe in a higher power who they, confusingly, also refer to as 'the Sawarim,' who rules the heavens with his bride. He rides a black horse, she a white horse, resembling death and purity. Death rites are an important, if not the most important, facet of Sawarimic faith. Extensive rituals upon the death of even the most lowly of peasants are common place, and the death of royal family members are often performed with an extensive portrayal of dramatic expositions of large gatherings of people moving from one place to the burial site, often times competing to see who can behave in the most dramatic and convincingly sad way. The body is washed and purified extensively, multiple times over the course of several days, before burial.

Burial occurs either underneath the house in which the family lives (for the poor) to keep the body and memory of the person close by. For royalty, the wealthy, or the noble, burial will more frequently take place in designated burial sites which are often decorated with large temples, adorned with gold and other finery, and sealed with a multitude of large, heavy doors that require several men to open and close.

Besides burial rites, the Sawarim faith also places a large focus on slavery. While slavery is simply 'accepted' in Broacien, it is encouraged in the Khalyfate, this sentiment having only been strengthened since the arrival of the Khalyf. Sawarimic slave drivers are among the most profitable in the entire known world, and can be rivaled only by the horselords of the far east. This focus on slavery is twofold -- first and foremost, because being merciful is an important virtue in the Sawarim faith, and what is more merciful than allowing your captive to live after their surrender or capture? Secondarily, converting infidels is a prime directive of many Sawarim people, and who better to convert than your unwilling captive, who stands to lose everything, and can only gain the one true faith?

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Alfadirsbak is the capital of the faith of the Old Gods, where you may find the most wise priests and the most devout warriors. Alfadirsbak itself is a village that exists of little more than 250 people, with around twenty or so holy men, and the remainder being regular villagers and devout, pious warriors. They wear cloaks made of the fur of wolves, whose heads are draped over their own to mimic the beasts and to show off how they have killed the wolves -- mostly because the wolf is among all the predators the most disliked animal in this pantheon of Gods.

Around the year Alfadirsbak is a quiet settlement, but come winter a massive fleet of Northerners sails to Alfadirsbak to partake in the yearly high blóð, where animals are ritually sacrificed and then hung from the giant tree that stands at the top of a large hill. Among these sacrifices are also humans, who are ritually murdered as well. Most of the time, these are prisoners (of war) or thralls that have no say in the matter, although those that are exceptionally dedicated to the alfadir may choose to be dedicated to the Gods voluntarily.

These rituals are all offered a mixture of mushrooms that, often times, turns the world (or their perception of it) into a whirlpool of events which they can no longer cohesively understand. These mushrooms dull the pain, making the ritual sacrifice more human than without. If the ritual were not to be performed, the mixture would kill the sacrifice regardless, ensuring that the alfadir gets what he was promised.

The reasoning behind the dislike of predator animals is that, prior to the unification of the tribes, hunting was among the chief ways of survival for the Northern tribes. Anything that impeded on hunting, such as poaching (punishable by summary execution on the spot) or predator animals stealing prey could cause the death of an entire tribe if it happened at an unfortunate time. Most wars in the North between tribes were fought over hunting grounds.

The wolf is chief among the 'hated' animals because they hunt in packs and were particularly dangerous to the survival of tribes, because an entire pack of wolfs could decimate hunting grounds on their own.

Now that farming is more common, this dislike for the animals is slowly fading, but the wolf remains as a symbol of 'evil' among the Northerners. Other predators, like the mountain lynx or bear, have lost this stigma, because they are both rarely seen and not impactful bar maybe eating a few salmons before disappearing for the winter.

In Alfadirsbak, behind the great oak, there is a giant Northern-style 'church' (goðiholm) that houses the Ten Statues of the most important gods of the pantheon (although there are many, many more gods depending on what part of the North you are in). Here, people come on pilgrimages to offer items to the Gods and to ask for their favour.

Off the beaten track further behind the goðiholm there is an additional eleventh statue, that has an image of the alfadir stabbing a wolf with a spear while holding it down with his foot by the neck. This wolf in specific resembles evil in its totality. Much further from this specific statue, on a track that is rarely traveled, there is an additional statue that looks much older. On the outer edge of the statue, there is a ring of binding runes, colored with red ochra, that are meant to 'seal' the statue. This statue is of the same wolf, though lacking the alfadir stabbing it this time. The priests dare not approach this statue for fear of it, and only do so to re-apply the red ochre and re-seal them. Nobody ever comes here (in broad daylight) but there have been mumblings of offerings being left to this wolf statue, either to support 'evil' or because they wish to gain parts of the power of 'evil,' and wish to present the offerings as a bargain.

Fallout: Rust and Steel

@Lo Pellegrino Are you going to be full any time soon? I want to throw in a character, but I also don't want to step on anyone's toes because they'd expressed interest before me.

[ROLEPLAY LORE DUMP] BROACIEN.

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Omnia si perdas, famam servare memento

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The Servants are the elite, religious fighting force of Broacien, made up of men who have sacrificed themselves and their lives to the King and nobody else but the King. Because the King of Broacien takes upon himself a religious function as God himself, the Servants are the most pious among pious, and have trained their entire life for the chance to serve among them. Servants are recognizable among others due to the fact that they are marked with a set of red circles on their forehead, which is also indicative of rank.

One circle is simply a Servant, a holy knight in service to the King. Two circles indicates an officer of rank, most likely of noble blood but not necessarily. Three circles are reserved for the Grandmaster of the Servant Order, his left and right hand men, and any Servants that are ordained by the King himself. As such, the importance of the three-circled Servants can differ from king to king. During the reign of Gregar I, the Stag King, only the most renowned and capable knights were ordained, and so the three circles were a rank to be respected and feared. During the reign of Harold, this has diminished, as he has ordained (incapable) noblemen into the rank of three-circled Servants for political and financial reasons as well.

His brother, Gregar II, has also begun ordaining three-circled Servants, although his three-circled Servants are marked with red ochre instead of pure red. This is done in order to differentiate them from the Servants that are still loyal to his brother, however few they may be.

These markings are permanent, and therefore can be a great boon but also a great detriment to any Servant. For example, traveling through Broacien, a Servant that is marked is bound to get offers of free bed and breakfast at inns. Traveling through Sawarim territory, a Servant mark is a quick way to be shot at by their expert desert dune-scouts.

Entry into the Servants is a high bar to reach, but they will take anyone who can prove that he is, first and foremost, a staunch Monarchist believer who truly wishes to serve the king, and secondarily, is fit to hold a sword and shows promise in using it. For many religious peasants, entering the Servant Order is a way to both serve God and King, and to ensure a better life for themselves. Servant vows of abstinence, however, are taken most serious, and prevent Servants from passing on the benefits of their Servanthood to the rest of their family.

Otherwise, noblemen that are staunch religious believers enter the Servant Order to ensure prestige for the family, as in Broacien there is no greater sacrifice than becoming a Servant. The closer one is to being an heir, the more prestige a family can claim -- those who are first-in-line to inherit a title who become Servants give up their inheritance in order to serve God and King, and as such, their family can claim a great amount of prestige from this sacrifice.

A notable bearer of the Servant mark is Ketill the Hrafn, the Raven King who later disavowed the Monarchist faith and returned to his pagan religion.

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Ducit Amor Patriae

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The Robed Swords are called such because they wear their swords not in a sheath, but in a roll of expensive velvet. This tradition has come forth from a tradition set by the first Robed Sword, Inquisitor Dumand from Arlon, who converted to the Monarchist faith and vowed to convert or execute all heathens within the borders of Broacien. Under his command, the Robed Sword order was found with the express purpose of investigating claims of heresy.

Nobody is immune to the investigations of the Robed Swords, not even the King themselves, so great are their investigative powers in a legal and practical sense. Much like the Servants, Robed Swords are marked with a large cross on their forehead in black pigment. The Robed Swords take every aspect of Servanthood, and multiply it -- they must be incorruptible forces of the wrath of the Monarch, and therefore must be able to resist all earthly impulses.

Where Servanthood is marred by a vow of abstinence, they are still allowed to maintain contact with family after becoming a Servant, and if they had fathered children before becoming a Servant, this is tolerated. Marriages are not absolved, but simply declared to be in a permanent state of limbo.

For Robed Servants, this is not true -- in stead, they must break contact with all family. Those who have children prior to enlisting with the Robed Swords must find a way to 'get rid' of the children, and the same goes for partners. Often times, the ways in which this is done are not investigated, so long as it is done.

They may not drink, they may not be merry with friends, they may not laugh. The application of Monarchist faith is the most strict and puritan amongst the Robed Swords, and it is impossible to find more pious and zealous men elsewhere throughout the kingdom or, indeed, the known world.

Unlike the Servants, too, they are not tolerated or celebrated. Due to their role in investigating heresy, they are feared by everyone, and it is uncommon for them to receive shelter even if they pay. For this reason, these puritans prefer to travel unnoticed, and often masquerade themselves as lepers with masks to prevent being noticed while searching for heresiarchs. Seeing a Robed Sword is rare, and if you do see them, know that bad news is afoot, and you had best make yourself scarce.

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Ber er hver að baki nema sér bróður eigi.

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The Haris Alkhalyfa, or more commonly known in the Khalyfate as 'the Djinn,' are a mercenary order of elite Northern troops that served Khalyf Ahmad during his short reign as his personal retinue of guards. They served nobody but the Khalyf, and only followed orders that came from him directly, or from those he had appointed to give orders.

The Haris Alkhalyfa was in its entirety an almost-completely Northern force, although the officers were all Sawarim. This did nothing to maintain control over the Northern mercenaries, as the majority of the Northern warriors maintained their own unofficial Northern officers to make the giving of orders in their native tongue easier. An unofficial and uneasy cooperation between the Northern and the Sawarim officers was formed to mediate the tensions that existed therein.

The Haris Alkhalyfa was a dual sided blade. On the one hand, their large stature, larger weapons and their unusual features (blue eyes, beards) made them feared both for how they looked and how they fought. While this made them a useful tool in suppressing the masses and fighting enemies, it also meant that there was talk among some of the religious leaders as well as the nobility that the Khalyf had sold the empire over to Northern barbarians for a few axes.

The Djinn themselves, however, were both loved and hated by the locals. The Djinn proved themselves to be curious about the Sawarim ways and there were a large amount of converts among them (however, how serious they were about converting was another question entirely) both to the Sawarimic faith as well as the sects, such as the Ahl al-Hariq. At the same time, they were viewed with distrust because a great many of them did not speak the local language, and despite an official ban from the Khalyf on practicing their faith, many of them ignored this and continued to wear symbolry of the Northern gods.

Their axes were, evidently, worth more than their zeal.

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Lidet er om den mans vrede, som ingen vurder.

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While not a warrior order on the organized level of the Servants or the Haris Alkhalyfa, the Berserkirs are a loosely organized group of warrior-shamans that possess an uncanny ability to enter a battletrance that allows them to feel no pain, utilize a greater level of strength, and forge on through the battlefield while suffering wounds that would kill others. This comes at the cost of a lessened state of awareness, in which they cannot discern friend from foe.

The way in which to enter such a trance is different for every berserkir - some drink a concoction made of hallucinogenics, or eat mushrooms with a similar effect, others are sick with rabies (and, typically, do not live long for this reason), and others yet can enter it naturally without any outside stimuli.

The berserkirs lack in number, however, because for a lot of people it is simply not possible to enter such a trance. Whether there is a physical barrier or something else is unknown, but the ability to enter a battletrance (bersirk) is considered a gift of the gods and marks a particularly brave, valiant and capable man (or, rare cases, woman).

Just like the Servants, one notable example of a berserkir is Ketill the Hrafn, Konungr of the Thousand Tribes.

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Man må hyle med de ulve man er i blandt.

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The Blódverr af Hrafn (lit.: Blooded Men of the Raven) is a group of sworn men (þegn's) of Ketill the Raven that form his inner circle. They swear an oath to the Raven, both the Alfadir and Ketill himself, and bind it with a ritual that includes bloodletting, hence they are blooded men. This order of warriors is respected in the entire Northern region, as they are renowned for their skill in combat and the ferocity with which they protect the tribes.

The fact that these men are þegns (thanes) of the Konungr means they already enjoy a particularly trusted position at his court, being part of the hird and privy to certain aspects of rulership that others would have no voice in. The addition of being blooded heightens their importance and influence, at the cost of being bound to the king no matter what. While such a vow is easily broken in other cultures, doing so among the Northern tribes would make even your allies shun you.

The Blóðverr also fulfill a function as executioners, and are put in charge of performing execution orders that the Raven king gives out, should the need arise.

Blóðverr come from all manner of lives, and there is even a Blóðverr from the Ye'inyani Mereti that was previously a thrall. While this means that membership of the blooded men is not limited to a specific type of people, it does not mean all who wish to be a part of the blooded men will be a member. In order to be a blooded man, one would need to earn the favor and trust of Ketill the Raven, a feat that is not as easy as one might think.

The War That Ended All Wars [Applications Open]

@Kuro how close to the start mark is this RP? I'd throw my hat into the ring, but am unsure if there is still place and animo?

ODINS SEARCH FOR WISE TALES, UPDATED TODAY (September 24, 19).

_Bump.

ODINS SEARCH FOR WISE TALES, UPDATED TODAY (September 24, 19).

_Bump.

Hádes: The Lost Colony

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P R O F I L E //

ACCESS //

Ching Shih is what we might commonly refer to as a street thug. It is no surprise then that she found herself on the Ghosts Cradle to anyone that possesses a brain of some sort. But she was not born there. For that section of her life, we have to move to the industrial planet of Sector 20. Sector 20 was not a planet like most others, in that living here was most often temporary. Laborers would come from other planets on private contracts that were mediated by third, fourth or sometimes even fifth parties in the ventures. Ching Shih's mother was one of them, and so Ching Shih found herself living in Sector 20 for most of her childhood, until it was time to leave.

Except, when it was time to leave, she didn't leave. Records show that there was no record of her arriving, due to her birth being on-planet, but that when her mother left, she left alone. There currently exists no reasonable answer as to why this happened, although it is speculated that it is because Ching Shih's mother did not earn enough money to support a child, and instead left the child to her own devices.

Being alone on a planet meant entirely for industry did not exactly open doors for miss Shih, and she quickly found herself engaging in criminal activity from a young age. She gradually worked her way up from graffiti to extortion to alleged assassination -- although the latter could never be proven, and the alleged target was a criminal, so police forces were none too enthusiastic to resolve the case.

Some time during her adolescent years she smuggled herself off of the planet, and made way for the Kestle-99, the moving hub of criminals and pariahs that existed somewhere in the Ghosts Cradle. She felt right at home, and continued in her ways.

Her ways, however, became more refined, and she moved from petty theft, graffiti, and being a thug, into being a thug that was also a hired gun. She'd fight for whoever had the coin, and since she was a rookie, not much coin was needed to hire her.

In order to bolster their ranks, the rebellion took on her contract. Suffice to say she found herself on the losing side of that conflict, or at the very least it certainly seemed that way when she was captured.

S E N T E N C E //

ACCESS //

Ching Shih was captured after a rebellion transport was caught trying to smuggle operatives onto a planet, and they were subsequently boarded. There was no epic fight for freedom, as the imperial troops were more than skilled enough to deal with the ragtag bunch of terrorists that were on board.

The initial move was to summarily execute the terrorists, but a sudden interruption from somewhere up the chain of command meant that they were given a trial, and sentenced for treason, aiding and abetting a rebellion, and unauthorized engagement in military actions. And that, subsequently, meant life on a penal labor colony. There's worse places to be, right?

A S S E T S //

ACCESS //

-- intimidation strategies
-- can spray some mean graffiti
-- ok with guns
-- uhhh, she's a criminal, what do you expect, a degree in science?

Decided to include @owo's Ghosts Cradle, since it was sorta just the natural place for my character to be, but didn't really put anything in there that could interfere with their vision of it. Hope that's OK.