RollerToaster

Lasers and Losers

Ok got that post up, Kuro.

Lasers and Losers

Collab post with Kuroneko

"Hey Bob! I'm heading out!" The insectoid Mechanic let out a crackling hiss of annoyance as his old friend called out. "My name isn't- Ahh forget it..." His voice was robotic sounding, synthesised by the cybernetic voice box imbedded in his throat. Standing at five foot two, the Chi'tai known as Bob wasn't the most intimidating figure in the galaxy. His species was a decidedly scrawny one, with thin thoraxes and spindly limbs. Like most of his race, Bob had replaced almost forty percent of his own physiology with cybernetics, including his upper left arm. Now he was using that arm to read a holographic display projected the palm of a three clawed, metallic hand. He looked away from the display to oversee the final loading of their cargo and, once it was all secure he dismissed the loader bots, making a final entry on the display before dismissing that too. Making one final round of the cargo bay to ensure everything was properly secured he decided it was time to catch up with his partner. He turned to the feminine robot standing by the stairs to the upper causeway and gestured to her. "I'm going to meet up with Winston. Are you coming?"

-

Nadia had been observing the loading process with apathetic disinterest. The primitive cargo-bots did nothing to stimulate her programming. However, the chance to leave the often boring interior of the ship was quite welcome. "You're going to see Master Valos?" She asked unnecessarily as she moved over to the mechanic's side. "I will accompany you." Together they stepped out into the rain and after stopping make sure the ship was locked up, they moved off into the city, heading for the bar.

-

The trip was interrupted when, about half way there, a pair of thugs stepped into the street to bar the way. Bob would've liked to avoid such inconveniences entirely by simply flying over their heads, but his membranous wings were delicate and didn't do so well in this downpour. Not to mention he had to make sure Nadia didn't decide to remove some poor vagabond's appendix along the way. Though it seemed she'd get a chance to operate on someone after all. "Nadia, would you mind?" He asked, gesturing towards the thugs, one of whom was already readying some kind of dangerous looking firearm.

-

The blue lights that simulated eyes of Nadia's display took on a positively gleeful shape as she stepped towards the thugs. "Preparing to administer treatment." She said in a calm tone. She suddenly leapt towards the armed man, surprising him as she closed a strong robotic hand around the barrel of his weapon. The other was reaching under his coat, probably for another weapon, when she ripped the gun out of the first one's grip and blew his friend away. Evidently the weapon was some kind of powder scattergun and the hapless thug found himself taking a barrage of metal shrapnel straight in the face. he was dead before he hit the ground.

The other thug cried out in pain, his fingers having been broken when Nadia removed the weapon from his grip. "You appear to be in distress." She said soothingly to the thug, as she discarded the scattergun and seized him around the throat. "Please allow me to administer a sedative." Without waiting for a response, her hands tightened around the thug's throat and his air was quickly cut off. He made a strangled sound but Nadia wasn't done yet. She squeezed harder and harder until, with a sickening crack, the man went limp. She dropped the body to the ground and stared at them both for a moment, her scanner whirring softly, before turning and walking back to Bob's side. "I'm afraid both patients have ceased life functions." She said unnecessarily.

-

"No kidding..." Bob responded, looking over the scene. He didn't really enjoy violence, to be honest. He preferred problems that could be solved with a wrench rather than a gun, but he was realist enough to understand that those men would have gladly murdered him for a few credits. He wasn't going to shed any tears over them, not that his species was capable of shedding tears in the first place. "Come on, we'd better go see Winston." he said as he stepped off with Nadia in tow. The rest of the trip to the bar was uneventful and he quickly arrived. He and Nadia stepped inside and, after a brief look around, he located Winston, sitting with who he presumed was one his "new friends". The mechanic made his way over to the table and took a seat, giving Winston a nod of greeting. Nadia, for her part, moved over to stand next to Winston's chair.

Lasers and Losers

Bob

Name: Hkach'Iakac
Aka: Bob
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Race: Chi'tai

Racial Description

The Chi'tai are an insectoid race of technophiles. Obsessed with technology, the entire race loves salvaging old tech and integrating it into other tech. They even integrate tech into their own bodies. They communicate naturally with a series of clicks and whistles, but have used cybernetics to allow them to vocalise normally, just with metallic, synthesised voices.

All Chi'tai have six limbs: two legs and four arms, and the males of the species are smaller than the females and possess four delicate membranous wings on their backs. Their immunity to disease and ability to survive in toxic atmospheres make Chi'tai excellent Starship and Colonial Engineers.

Appearance:


Career/Profession: Starship Mechanic

Background: Bob met Winston shortly after he left the Sector 9 Republic. Winston was looking to get into Freight Hauling, and that meant he needed a good ship. Bob was working in a back system Junk Fleet, a consortium of mechanics, salvagers and engineers who would collect derelict starships from ship graveyards and repair them for sale, or salvage whatever useful components and metals they could. When Winston arrived looking for a ship, Bob was just putting the finishing touches on the Hudson Hauler: Type 16. Impressed with Bob's technical know how, when Winston bought the ship he hired Bob on as the ship's Mechanic. Despite telling Winston his name many times, it seems the man just can't quite get his mouth around it, so he took to calling the mechanic by the nickname "Bob" and it stuck.

Gear:
-A seemingly limitless number of tools. He always seems to have a tool for any situation.
-Two Vibrodaggers. Self heating. Able to cut through most basic metals like butter.
-HK44 Slugger. An ugly but reliable powder projectile pistol.

Credits: ₡0.00

Lasers and Losers

Name: Hkach'Iakac
Aka: Bob
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Race: Chi'tai

Racial Description

The Chi'tai are an insectoid race of technophiles. Obsessed with technology, the entire race loves salvaging old tech and integrating it into other tech. They even integrate tech into their own bodies. They communicate naturally with a series of clicks and whistles, but have used cybernetics to allow them to vocalise normally, just with metallic, synthesised voices.

All Chi'tai have six limbs: two legs and four arms, and the males of the species are smaller than the females and possess four delicate membranous wings on their backs. Their immunity to disease and ability to survive in toxic atmospheres make Chi'tai excellent Starship and Colonial Engineers.

Appearance:


Career/Profession: Starship Mechanic

Background: Bob met Winston shortly after he left the Sector 9 Republic. Winston was looking to get into Freight Hauling, and that meant he needed a good ship. Bob was working in a back system Junk Fleet, a consortium of mechanics, salvagers and engineers who would collect derelict starships from ship graveyards and repair them for sale, or salvage whatever useful components and metals they could. When Winston arrived looking for a ship, Bob was just putting the finishing touches on the Hudson Hauler: Type 16. Impressed with Bob's technical know how, when Winston bought the ship he hired Bob on as the ship's Mechanic. Despite telling Winston his name many times, it seems the man just can't quite get his mouth around it, so he took to calling the mechanic by the nickname "Bob" and it stuck.

Gear:
-A seemingly limitless number of tools. He always seems to have a tool for any situation.
-Two Vibrodaggers. Self heating. Able to cut through most basic metals like butter.
-HK44 Slugger. An ugly but reliable powder projectile pistol.

Credits: ₡0.00

Werewolves in the City

Guh, time for me to sleep. Before I pass out on my keyboafrgtdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdfdf

Werewolves in the City

The book Jethro was reading snapped shut with a bang that echoed through the room as he turned his attention to the door. He didn't have to ask who it was as, even through the damp wood he could smell the scent of their newest addition to the pack. Erica. Jethro could still remember the day she was brought to them, almost dead. She was born a human and by rights she should've died as one and he was tempted to let her slip away rather than suffer on. Maybe that would've been a kindness. But she had clawed her way back to life and that had impressed him. She wasn't aware of it, but her will to live was one of the strongest he'd ever seen.

He placed the book on the small end table that was placed next to his chair and called out in a gruff voice that, as many knew, could accommodate roaring laughter and intimidating threats in equal measure. "Come in Erica. My door is never locked to family." He called out, leaning back in the old armchair and crossing one leg over the opposite knee.

Werewolves in the City

Jethro was still awake, he didn't sleep very often anyway, seated in an old patched up armchair and reading a hard cover book by the light of a single flickering candle. He was clothed in a pair of cargo pants and hiking boots with a fur lined jacket over his scarred upper body. The book he was reading was volume three of a series entitled "Nicomachean Ethics" by Aristotle.

He glanced up from his book as a scream sounded from a room nearby. It sounded like it had come from Kiara's room and, while he stopped reading, he made no move to get up. If they were under attack he would have smelt something long before now. Whatever had caused the scream was likely in the woman's own head and it was up to her to deal with it. Kiara was a grown woman, after all, not some whimpering pup that needed to have him hold her hand. If she wanted to talk he knew she'd come to him eventually, so he returned to his book.

Werewolves in the City

Anything in particular I should know as Alpha?

Werewolves in the City

Name: Jethro Malcolm Sawyer
Age: 58
Position: Alpha
Job: Jethro is unemployed but considers leading and teaching the pack to be a full-time job.

Appearance: Human | Wolf

History: Jethro makes no attempt to conceal his past from his kin. He contracted Lycanthropy many years ago, when travelling in Siberia as a child. His family was slaughtered by the werewolves that then took him in, as was their way. They saw humans as little more than food and used their attacks as a way to not only find food but to increase their numbers. Jethro barely remember his original family now, but he remembers the decade and a half he spent among the Siberian pack, living out in the wild, hunting and exploring as a wolf. The other's wished to give up their humanity and become wolves, but Jethro wasn't satisfied with such a life and so one night, when everyone was asleep, he slipped away from the pack and never looked back.

Jethro, in time, made his way back to his own home nation and joined a small pack of werewolves. He proved himself and able fighter and, as was his right, he challenged the previous Alpha for leadership. Thei fight was a long and violent one, but finally Jethro stood victorious and took his place as Alpha. He took his role as leader and teacher very seriously, combining his own beliefs with what he had learned from the Siberians to form a creed of sorts, driven by one central tenet: Survival of the Fittest.

Personality: Jethro has a powerful force of presence and it used to other's listening when he speaks. He rarely raises his voice and is stern and unflinching in his decisions. He believes in survival of the fittest, that we fight our way into this world, kicking and screaming, and that all werewolves must master themselves or be destroyed. He also sees lycanthropy not as a curse, but as a gift. To be able to experience the world as a wolf, but with the mind of a human can be nothing short of gift, a gift that shouldn't be squandered by those who wish to live only as humans or only as wolves. He is a powerful and stern figure, but not an unkind one. He sees the pack as his family and would happily die to protect all of them.

Goal in Life: To ensure the survival of the pack.

Other: Despite his age, Jethro is still a powerful figure. He is lean and well built, his body covered in countless scars from a life of struggling for survival.

Dragon Age: Darkest Days character sheets

I hope this is still open. I had a read through the Int Chk and I am very interested.



Character Name: Ashaad of the Beresaad

Class: Warrior/Reaver

Skills and Talents:
- Mighty Blow - The Warrior strikes with a crushing overhead blow
- Scythe - The Warrior strikes with a rushing horizontal attack
- Blood Frenzy - The Reaver feeds off his own pain, gaining an increase in attack power from each injury.
- Devour - The Reaver tears into his opponent, consuming their life force to heal himself.

Items:
- A Qunari greatsword named Kata, meaning "The End"
- Armor of the Antaam

Bio: Ashaad was born into slavery in the Tevinter Imperium, under the name Silas, where he was raised to be a young Magister's bodyguard. All throughout his childhood he underwent brutal training that left his body scarred. It was a life filled with pain and in time he learned how to harness that pain and turn it into strength. Unknown to even himself, he had begun to travel the path of the Reaver. His skills progressed at a startling rate, beyond his master's expectations and, fearing that his slave would turn on him, he attempted to have Silas killed. The young elf, however fought back, slaughtering every soldier that his master sent at him. In one night, the Magister's mansion was drenched in Tevinter blood and as the sun rose a gore covered Silas stood over his master's mutilated body.

Silas knew that, after what he had done there would be no imprisonment for him. They wouldn't sell him to another master, he knew, they would kill him on sight. So Silas fled north across the sea to Seheron, pursued by Tevinter Hunters. The Magister he'd murdered had been the son of the Imperial Archon's sister and she had demanded that he pay for his crime, no matter how far he fled. Barely a week had passed before the hunters tracked him down in Seheron and as he fought them off they were all attacked by the Qunari.

The Hunters had tried to fight free of the Qunari and were promptly slaughtered, while Silas surrendered to them and was taken to Par Vollen where he was given to the Ben-Hassrath for "re-education". Only once Silas had begun to learn about the Qun did he realise that all his life, even as a slave, he had felt like his life had no purpose, no identity. The Qun promised him a place, a role in society that only he could fill, and he accepted their teachings eagerly. He became Viddathari, a convert to the Qun and was assessed by the Tamassrans to determine what his role would be. They named him an Ashaad, a lone scout of the Beresaad, the vanguard of the Antam.

When news of the Blight reached Par Vollen a Sten of the Beresaad was sent to Ferelden to find an answer for the Arishok's question "What is the Blight?" However Sten was not the only soldier to be sent out from Par Vollen. Silas, now named Ashaad, his role and identity, was also sent to gather information on the Blight. He along with many others scattered throughout southern Thedas, each one with instruction to use their own judgment to find a satisfactory answer to the Arishok's question.