Lumiere — Roleplayer Guild

@CronicCrystalis

Hi!  U:
I guess a 1-sentence summary on the race singularly known as an 'Aylv' didn't quite explain their...scarcity. While I have this next bit up on my profile for Kaite, it would be fair to leave the section here for specific reference regarding a few issues with your character.

'The Chimeras of Triganavia', 'The Children of Aylv', 'The Lost Boys', 'Space Rats'...
Roughly twenty years ago, these names surfaced on the news following reports of acclaim regarding the successes of the Triganavia corporation. Their 'new-man' project, this creature that could survive hostile conditions and trauma, all based on the exposure of their pharmaceutical end. Making human clones wasn't enough, it was about the 99.5% accuracy in their treatments. After pushs from military backers to produce something more substantial than a morally questionable ration supplement, strides were taken to enhance and test the intelligence of their specimens to serve on front lines in measures to rival simple artificial intelligence. This challenge was taken farther than expected as the specimens were edged on with no actual goal, mostly to see how far beyond human limitations technology and science could reach without the chains of limitation.
It only took Triganavia three years before their security couldn't keep up with the creations who had learned to 'play dumb' and even 'play defective' after trial and error. What humanity saw as failure, these 'Children of Aylv' knew as exploitation.
A clock ticked over to midnight and the revolution was born. Triganavia was dismantled overnight as two batches of one-hundred with fifty being in formidable condition incited a collective uprising against those who would otherwise use them for cosmetics, medical testing and meat supplements.

In a statement against humanity, after years of piracy after utilizing the escape pods to inhabit and take down other ships with lures of distress signals, the 'Children of Aylv' pried the remains of Triganavia from Mars, adding their birthplace to a hive which they call 'The Abstract'.
This citadel was made from hobbling together a few light-speed capable crafts with shield-integration, it is likely to drift in the Terran neighboring clusters, though its whereabouts are widely unknown. Though clusters of their forces have been eradicated, the unwavering and unpredictable frequency of attacks has left the Committee widely clueless how wide-spread the threat of The Legion and its Children of Aylv reach.
The established fear is in the stolen genetics technology in their possession which they call 'The Nightmare Machine' for its use to create abominations who serve most roles. In these twenty years, few actual sightings of the three-hundred or so Aylvs have been made...or the survivors of raids are reluctant to speak of it.

Tormented ramblings whisper of the horrific brutality displayed by Aylvic marauders and their monsters, as well as mention upon hushed lips of some mysterious technology they possess. It has been romanticized as a presence rather than a device, capable of crushing, freezing and effortlessly tearing men women and children asunder with a mere mention of a few shapeless words. The Committee rejects these claims, as rumors of a glorified pirate faction in possession of terrifying, unknown technology is bad for morale.
For numerous reasons, this force the Aylvic Legion supposedly wield is referred to as 'The Mantle'.

Speculation surrounds the appearance of Aylvs, since experiments in their creation lead to a slurry of genetic combinations. The 'Primes' are the most stable and therefore hold more prominent roles in their society. Primes appear as small humans ranging between four to five feet tall with rabbit-like ears and tail, vertically slit pupils and pronounced top and bottom canines.

Curiously, Aylvs were designed to be genderless. As such, they do not have exclusively 'he' and 'she' distinctions even in physical appearance, but rather varying levels of gray somewhere in between.

It is unclear how long 'Wild' Aylvs live for, how reproductions works or if they established a 'home' planet. Their culture, religion and hierarchy is also widely unknown. Captive Aylvs tend to die from cardio-myopathy relating to stress and tirelessly resist interrogation. Information regarding them is difficult to glean, as the Legion is more likely to shoot someone than answer a single question, and those with answers are in unreliable states of mind.

Stands at 4'10", 5'6" counting ears.
His hair is sheen with what seems like white but fades to a light blonde as the hair length continues; the follicles holding a mild bioluminescence. This also shows in his eyes which hold a faint minty-green glow to the iris. The bushy fluff of his tail shares these qualities while the velvety fuzz of his ears simply hold the blonde-ish hue.
Vertically slit pupils. Black sclera. Black forked tongue. Pronounced upper and lower K9s.
Kaïte typically goes for more revealing attire but has recently adopted wearing scarves to supplement the shock of changing climates.
Kept alive as a pet of sorts for the head researcher at the time along with four others, his ears were punched with renewed ID tags with the old spots being used to hold a myriad of piercings.
Prefers boots without heels, typically knee-high.
Isn't uncommon to wear pants, though occasionally sports shorts paired with long socks.
Not a fan of hoods or hats for obvious reasons.

Name
T-073 'Kaïte' (Pronounced "Kite")

'The Chimeras of Triganavia', 'The Children of Aylv', 'The Lost Boys', 'Space Rats'...
Roughly ten years ago, these names surfaced on the news following reports of acclaim regarding the successes of the Triganavia corporation. Their 'new-man' project, this creature that could survive hostile conditions and trauma, all based on the exposure of their pharmaceutical end. Making human clones wasn't enough, it was about the 99.5% accuracy in their treatments. After pushs from military backers to produce something more substantial than a morally questionable ration supplement, strides were taken to enhance and test the intelligence of their specimens to serve on front lines in measures to rival simple artificial intelligence. This challenge was taken farther than expected as the specimens were edged on with no actual goal, mostly to see how far beyond human limitations technology and science could reach without the chains of limitation.
It only took Triganavia three years before their security couldn't keep up with the creations who had learned to 'play dumb' and even 'play defective' after trial and error. What humanity saw as failure, these 'Children of Aylv' knew as exploitation.
A clock ticked over to midnight and the revolution was born. Triganavia was dismantled overnight as two batches of one-hundred with fifty being in formidable condition incited a collective uprising against those who would otherwise use them for cosmetics, medical testing and meat supplements.

In a statement against humanity, after years of piracy after utilizing the escape pods to inhabit and take down other ships with lures of distress signals, the 'Children of Aylv' pried the remains of Triganavia from Mars, adding their birthplace to a hive which they call 'The Abstract'.
This citadel was made from hobbling together a few light-speed capable crafts with shield-integration, it is likely to drift in the Terran neighboring clusters, though its whereabouts are widely unknown. Though clusters of their forces have been eradicated, the unwavering and unpredictable frequency of attacks has left the Committee widely clueless how wide-spread the threat of The Legion and its Children of Aylv reach.
The established fear is in the stolen genetics technology in their possession which they call 'The Nightmare Machine' for its use to create abominations who serve most roles. In these ten years, few actual sightings of the three-hundred or so Aylvs have been made...or the survivors of raids are reluctant to speak of it.

Tormented ramblings whisper of the horrific brutality displayed by Aylvic marauders and their monsters, as well as mention upon hushed lips of some mysterious technology they possess. It has been romanticized as a presence rather than a device, capable of crushing, freezing and effortlessly tearing men women and children asunder with a mere mention of a few shapeless words. The Committee rejects these claims, as rumors of a glorified pirate faction in possession of terrifying, unknown technology is bad for morale.
For numerous reasons, this force the Aylvic Legion supposedly wield is referred to as 'The Mantle'.

Speculation surrounds the appearance of Aylvs, since experiments in their creation lead to a slurry of genetic combinations. The 'Primes' are the most stable and therefore hold more prominent roles in their society. Primes appear as small humans ranging between four to five feet tall with rabbit-like ears and tail, vertically slit pupils and pronounced top and bottom canines.

Curiously, Aylvs were designed to be genderless. As such, they do not have exclusively 'he' and 'she' distinctions even in physical appearance, but rather varying levels of gray somewhere in between.

It is unclear how long 'Wild' Aylvs live for, how reproductions works or if they established a 'home' planet. Their culture, religion and hierarchy is also widely unknown. Captive Aylvs tend to die from cardio-myopathy relating to stress and tirelessly resist interrogation. Information regarding them is difficult to glean, as the Legion is more likely to shoot someone than answer a single question, and those with answers are in unreliable states of mind.

Kaïte, however, is a product of an attempt to restore the project and the last surviving specimen of the tests that were involved. While the rest of the batch was plagued with hideously deforming and fatal defects due to the loss of Triganavia's primary synthesizer, Kaïte remains stable and separate from the Legion's influence...though not its reputation.

Age
7 (Appears 16-19 (Mentally 30ish))

Gender
Prefers male pronouns

Job
Chef

Weapons
- 'Sandcastle' Custom PWD (18 round clip .45 acp) often holstered on left thigh.

Abilities
'Tasking' - Kaïte's life having been a series of stopwatches and concentration, devoting his attention to singular tasks requiring fine finger dexterity and focus has become his norm. General application has been tested with the intent of training a 'jack of all trades'. None of these skills are actually field tested and results may vary in stressful conditions or under rigorous time constraints. Tested professionals would ultimately be a better choice in such circumstances.
	-Ingrained knowledge of ship-based weapon calibrations and operations based on combat records, especially those of skilled fighter pilots...for the purpose of shooting such skilled pilots down.
	-Ingrained knowledge of small arms design, mostly pertaining to pistols.
	-Ingrained knowledge of most humanoid biology for the purpose of first-aid. When it comes to humans and human subspecies, specifically, Kaite is quite skilled in reassembling...and, consequently, disassembling the anatomy in question. He could likely yank a bullet and stitch the wound, but don't expect it to be elegant. His bedside manner would probably suck. He'd be more suited for slashing tendons and stabbing pressure points.
	-Aptitude for improvisation and improvement on instructions based on ingrained knowledge. Mostly, this has shown itself through Kaïte's ability to cook. Provided the right spices, making 'budget' taste like 'gourmet' isn't so tricky of a proposition. Additionally, memorizing recipes isn't the most complicated concept and is simply another 'task' to perform numerous steps at a time to produce decadent culinary ensembles. That in mind, he lacks the passion what critics can pick out or notice a lack of in the end product. At the end of the day, it was just another task to complete.

Animalistic Traits - Those ears aren't just for looks. Kaïte's hearing is exceptional and keen, though this also becomes a small issue in regards to firearms due to such sensitivities. Tapetum lucidum crystals combined with hearing and even taste to an extent make easy work of perceiving in low-light conditions. Kaïte possesses an amber-yellow eyeshine.

Personality
On paper, '073' has a violent streak of disproportionate tendencies where they could come off confrontational and hostile. In all actuality, 073 is conditioned to be fairly timid, polite and professional, if anything, with incidents to imply otherwise being just that, 'incidents'. With little social experience to base interactions on, 073 tries to compose themselves to in order to accommodate other's disposition but mostly comes off a bit awkward. For the sake of convenience, 'Kaïte' identifies as male...though arguably behaves otherwise. Androgyny that comes with his species makes it difficult to tell if 'he' really is.
Limitations to cells or testing chambers has dulled his perspective of reality, and the world outside of the walls fascinates him to no end. However, he has a bit of a fear of automatons, deep water and dogs for one reason or another.
In spite of their otherwise composed and passive demeanor, Kaïte is a fear-biter and won't hesitate to defend himself or any others he deems worth it. Fickle as his temperament can be, his efforts towards appearing compassionate and caring is presented objectively...almost to the point of it seeming disingenuous at times, which it may very well be. Regardless, he still gives his attempts at seeming genuine all of his effort, and it's quite convincing at times. He does his best to mean it.

Without the common grounds of his free brethren, Kaite has faded into an estranged and secretive religion invented by the Aylv.
'Distant Fish' is the name which they have given what the Aylvs had supposedly seen within emotional turmoil and time spent staring into the one-way windows of their enclosures. Strangely, this behavior is shared throughout his kind, even years after the founders of the faith faded into obscurity...and without any outside influence or contact.

Short bio
I wasn't the strongest or fastest, and I certainly wasn't the only one. There were more, maybe twenty at one point that I know of. It was usually very dark, making it difficult to tell how many of us there were, at first. Sometimes one would go missing, or they would come and take a few at a time. None of us understood why some came back and some didn't...not even me, and I was one that came back.

I kept coming back, being lead down the noisy halls of machinery and howling beasts. Down to 'my room', where I learned; the needles in my spine, the clamps to hold my eyes open, being allowed to see only what and when they wanted me to. My first year was the hardest. It wasn't so much the process as it was the topic; used to the procedures, the topics of war, anatomy, physics and humanities bombarded my senses. I'm thankful for most of it, although it quickly made my world quite lonely. Many of the others didn't speak, or were barely even aware where they even were. I 'graduated' to living in a cell, since it got to a point where it was considered inhumane to have to pick me out of 'the pits'...or more arguably, to put me back in. Four walls and a ceiling never seemed so welcoming, especially considering how I could see them. Teachings changed after that to genetics and experimentation...and the Newman project. Truthfully, it was easier to understand and accept once I was just told that, yes, I was a clone being held prisoner for experimentation, my brothers in the pits are borderline mindless animals and no, I was not special, just chosen for a different task.

Tasks...I was shown reports of the others' tasks and the testing involved. 039 Was a drooling mute of a hulk that ate bones and needed little oxygen for hours while it was left to toil away, lifting weights and fighting other rejects of its kind, often to the death and often unprovoked. He's the oldest. 055 is...like a rodent, so to speak, you know, if it doesn't chew on something, its teeth grow into its brain. There was apparently an attempt to replicate this effect with an entire skeletal structure. They could never figure out how to stop the growths besides grinding them down after they start piercing the skin. I heard talk of bets being taken; apparently it wasn't uncommon for terminal malformations to occur. It wasn't unlike 042 whose endless bouts of energy pushed them to run until their muscles gave out. They supposedly died from a heart attack a few minutes later. Needless to say, those lessons stopped after a short time, but it still left me wondering just what was the plan for me? I felt fortunate, however lame dying from a chess game sounded, that whatever I had been tailored for didn't require me to suffer like the others.

There were five of us like me, and I suppose I am the oldest, now...
We were made with no purpose, cooked up just to show it could be done. Rigorous training and even sleepless nights of tasking built us up for some unseen goal. I could only wonder why, as speaking wasn't allowed outside of tests and punishment for noncompliance was doled out the same way regardless of the offense. Thankfully, I only had to be beaten senseless once to understand my design wasn't to offer suggestions.
Whoever the display was for did not seem particularly impressed by us as three of my brothers died from health complications. The fourth started with chewing his nails, though his appetite...changed. By the time the guards came in response to the sounds coming from our cell, I had already choked the life out of the creature who my brother became.

Then it was me.

I was left inside the Dark Matter Bar on Lancelot Prime and instructed to wait. I...suspect this is another task.

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