spicykvnt

Mass Effect: Caelestis

On Board the Caelestis,
Omega

---

Naryxa moved barefoot through the cabin of her ship with a silence as if she were trying not to wake the dead. It had been a long day, docked on Omega. The Caelestis at rest while the Asari worked in loose clothing to push and pull at every sliver of dirt, in every crevice, across every surface.

The comfortably lived in smell had soon enough become replaced with the piercingly sterile scent of chemicals.

The last engineer’s coffee stains erased from her workbench, the chef’s lucky cloth squeezed of it’s dirt and folded away, removed from the bench. Even the medic’s bottle of whisky had been taken from the modest med-bay. One by one, Naryxa had removed the last pieces of their memory and tucked them away. A clean slate remained.

Naryxa had done it all herself, her skeleton crew had been relieved of their contracts -- and she assumed they’d all be carefree in dancing through Afterlife by now. They’d earned it, even if part of her hoped that the mechanic would come back through early for a familiar nightcap with the Captain… No, she expected that the Mechanic wouldn’t return at all.

Tearfully, she had brushed away some dried flowers from the mechanic’s desk. Too close. Too close, again.

In the corner, a waste bin full with more things. A sweater, a notebook, and litter and tiny trinkets that needed clearing out. A dried up plant that was beyond saving. It had pained her to throw it away.

It was the last, and only night she would be alone on the ship. She savoured it, watching out from the pilot’s deck, her feet up on the console as she babysat the drink in her hand. All of the fresh cold it had once been had left, warmed through by her palms now - a syrupy, strong mixture even after the oversized cube of ice had melted entirely within the little steel mug.

She turned her eyes from the dirty, overflowing pathways of Omega - and up to the sky, what little she could see of it from between the walls and rigging of the station. She looked at the nebula as it bled out all of it’s phosphorescent colour against the shrouding endless black. Not for too long, lest it stare back at her with all of it’s ominous wisdom.

Back at the streets then; at a Krogan stampeding across the walkway, belly laughing and cheered on by his friends. At a young Asari maiden clothed in a transparent jacket, revealing her shape through the cutaways of her outfit -- off to start a shift at Afterlife. Humans were lounging over the railings, looking down into the belly of Omega from the edge of the strip.

Every visit to the station played out the same raunchy scene. It’s why it was the perfect place to find new hires, and to drop off the old ones. Six years with that crew. Six. Two-thousand, one-hundred and ninety breakfasts. So many good mornings -- all circling back to one hard goodbye.

Naryxa tilted her head back and sipped. Only the pilot would be back, and thankfully he was the most difficult of them all to like. Abrasive, caustic, ill-mannered. She smirked. He was at least a keen judge of character; he’d gone through the applicants too.

”This one’s shite, ye dinnae want this cunt on the ship. AH dinnae want this cunt on the ship!”

She reckoned he’d be somewhere in Afterlife, in a puddle of his own piss by now. For a human, he drank as though he had the size and constitution of a Krogan and always acted surprised, the next day, when that wasn’t the case. Damn it, she loved him too, she thought to herself with a wry smile.

It was the last and only night she would be alone on the ship, Naryxa thought to herself again, closing her eyes from the flashing lights at last.

Her thoughts remained uninterrupted until she heard a familiar creak from above, followed by a thud in the air-ducts. She raised a brow and sighed through her teeth. Her hand turned to tip out the liquor into the waste bin - the soil soaked it up greedily and for a split second the stem of the plant twitched.

It was the last night she would be alone on the ship.

Almost.

Mass Effect: Caelestis

I was planning to make my own RP but you seem to have beat me to the punch, room for one more?

@Monochromatic Rainbow

You will need to have finished your sheet in the next few hours for consideration.

Mass Effect: Caelestis

I've been tied up at my computer all day, and I'm probably not going to finish these reviews just now -- I kind of want to do something weekend-y with the last hours of my weekend; so everything will be finalised, my sheet will be done, and IC will be done tomorrow evening.

That gives a few of you some time to finish sheets as well :)

Mass Effect: Caelestis

Satka Yual

_{Satka Yual
47 ⟁ Male ⟁ Drell ⟁ Civilian doctor}

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

---

The Drell doctor stands roughly 178 cms in height with a lean frame. His skin is a light blue in its complexion, with doubled eyelided black eyes with white inner eyes. His features are masculine with distinct frills going down the back of his head. Scarring is evident on his face from an incident he does not like to discuss. Smiles are a rarity on the doctor's face but another distinct feature he possesses is his blue lips, almost vibrant in their coloration. A few other scarrings mark Satka's body below his face, a healed burn notably dotting his right upper forearm. While his left shoulder holds a long healed bullet wound from an unfortunate encounter with some of the galaxy's rougher citizens. He lacks any tattoos or the like, the scars he bears from a rough doctor's life being Satka's distinguishing features.

The civilian dresses in plain colors, his style simple but sharp. He'll often wear collared dark shaded shirts with a long coat akin to a human doctor's jacket. On his lower half he wears comfortable pants with firm black boots. Satka as a noncombatant does not own armor, his plain clothes offer little in the way of protection to hazards. Though he does own a jumpsuit with a respirator helmet for zero gravity, non oxygen filled emergency situations.

_{H I S T O R Y}

---

Satko Yual was born on the Hanar homeworld of Kahje which also serves as the new home of the Drell. His parents were both simple working Drell, his father a bodyguard for a prominent Hanar politician while his mother was a police officer. As such the young Drell was raised in a strict household where he was one day expected to serve in a similar capacity to his parents. This push by his family may have been what ultimately led Satko down the path he chose, a total opposite of a martial lifestyle. His uncle Thulna would serve as an extremely influential figure to the young Satko, instilling a firm belief in the Drell's religion upon the boy. Through his own spiritual discovery Satko would pledge to help others, beyond his homeworld. He enjoyed life on the peaceful Kahje but dreamed of seeing the greater galaxy. The compassionate Drell would save up his credits in order to finance a shuttle offworld to the Citadel. This voyage would be the last time he'd see his family which took him some time to process.

Upon his arrival to the Citadel the Drell would get involved with a charitable organization, Pax Medicam that brought medical aid to those in need throughout Citadel space. It was Satko's first true glimpse into his future as he worked aside some of the kindest most efficient doctors on the Citadel. He'd see different worlds during his time with the group, visiting them to deliver supplies or help the wounded. While he had no scholarly medical training his five years within the organization gave him extremely valuable real world experience. Still the spiritual Drell did not feel as if he was doing enough. He'd heard tales of the unforgiving Terminus systems where orphans walked the streets of Omega and refugees died without hope. Satko was cautioned by several within Pax Medicam to not go on such a journey. The Terminus Systems chewed up and spit out hope filled young men like him like they were nothing. Nevertheless he hopped on a shuttle to Omega and began the next phase of his life, filled with desire to help those greatest in need.

Upon his arrival to Omega the Drell was stricken by the conditions the most downtrodden lived in, the tales he'd been told had been more than true and it hit the hope filled Satko hard. Still he pushed on, first searching out a medical clinic on the brutal space station to begin his work. He'd find it in the form of a Batarian doctor, Obrank Garkakk who had a heavily makeshift hospital on Omega. Dr. Garkakk was exactly the type of doctor one would expect to find on Omega, money was what he valued more than anything else. Satko was hesitant to work for such a man but his options were limited as a newcomer with little in the way of credits to his name. He would work side by side with the Batarian, finding the gruff man to be a skilled doctor even if he lacked much in the way of people skills. The Drell did believe the doctor was kinder than he'd let on to as he'd sometimes let the most unfortunate of people receive care at reduced prices. The clinic was occasionally besieged by gangsters which were the most terrifying days for Satko. He'd frequently dive behind cover while shots filled the crude hospital. It was one element of the Terminus systems he'd never truly get used to. Satko even had to patch up Garkakk after the Batarian took a shot to his leg, a true test of the skills he'd picked up on Omega.

The Drell would work for Dr. Garkakk for almost four years, then he'd decided to move on his own and begin his own clinic in another part of Omega. Satko began by officially stylizing himself as Doctor Yual, taking inspiration from his mentor Garkakk in how he conducted business. Though he was even kinder with negotiating deals with the most vulnerable and beaten. Early on in his solo work he found himself approached by the Eclipse, a notorious Terminus system mercenary band with a place on Omega. They offered him a deal, protection but only if he committed to patching up their people, none of the other mercenary bands. Desperately needing the protection he cautiously accepted the deal, stipulating that his priority was to help the most downtrodden on the space station. His alliance with Eclipse would be a savvy move which brought in more needed security and credits to his clinic but he despised the idea of working with such wicked individuals. It was something that never sat right with him but he needed to deal with it until he could afford to pay for his own security.

Satko earned a reputation as a kindhearted doctor who rarely ever turned away patients, even if his connections with the Eclipse scared away some. As the years went by he grew upset with the presence of the gang in his clinic. The final straw was when he discovered they had been stealing medical supplies from him and selling them on the black market for outrageous fees. The good doctor immediately severed the deal with Eclipse, hired his own security then felt much happier about his living on Omega. A paranoid thought did float in the back of his mind that Eclipse would return with vengeance, they'd never truly respect the decision to cut ties with them. But for some time it seemed no such event would occur. Satko focused his efforts on helping those most in need, frequently offering free service to those that needed it the most. Such an idea seemed preposterous beforehand on Omega. During this time he'd also fall in love with one of his nurses, a beautiful human woman named Kara.

As Satko's clinic flourished he pushed to expand operations, opening more, smaller clinics across Omega. He'd even began to plan to acquire ships to deliver supplies across the Terminus Systems to those most in need. With Kara and his dream coming to fruition life seemed too good to be true. In a way this line of thought was correct. As his esteem grew on Omega so did desire to move against him. Attacks against his clinics increased, forcing him to close some of them and hire more security. He suspected the Eclipse, or rival doctors jealous of his deeds. The most striking moment was when he received a report of his mentor's clinic being bombarded, with Dr. Garkakk slain in cold blood brutally. This incident tore deeply into Satko but he still persisted onward.

This changed roughly one year before his arrival aboard the Caelestis. As he walked into his main clinic on what seemed to be a routine day an explosion suddenly ripped through it. The doctor watched as patients and staff were crushed by debris or incinerated in the blast. As he crawled out of the rumble he watched as Kara was gunned down before him by a mercenary clad in the distinct Eclipse armor. Satko did not meet the same fate as his lover, he was left alive in a heap of sorrow to suffer through witnessing his life's work torn down before him. Flames filled his clinic as it burnt the ground, reverting to ashes like so much did on the unforgiving space station. As he held his dying love in his arms tears poured down the Drell's face.

Omega had beaten him.

Doctor Yual managed to pull himself away from the wreckage of his dream. He'd discover his other remaining clinics had similarly been hit. Everything he cherished had been completely defiled and destroyed. The person he cared the most about was wordlessly slain before him, killed like a common nobody on Omega. Satko stowed himself away, for some time he just left Omega and wandered as he tried his damnedest to find meaning. To find a way to push through shattered dreams and persevere. With nothing else going for him he took a job for an Asari captain traveling towards a strange planet.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

---

Doctor Yual is a calm minded figure with a compassionate heart, a combination which has brought him trouble in his time in the Terminus systems. Nevertheless he has continued to hold a passionate want to help any in need, regardless of their race or socioeconomic standing. He is avoidant of conflicts as he does his best to patch up both physical and emotional wounds. When in a conflict situation he'll often just simply dip out, drop it entirely and move on with things. While smiles now rarely break onto the Drell's features, laughter is even rarer. He'll often crack bad jokes to bring smiles onto the faces of those he's helping. Satko has a soft spot for children, seeing far too many orphaned youth on the streets in his travels through the Terminus systems. He only really cares about monetary regards when its a need. His credits go towards medical supplies or charity when he is able to donate.

One thing that is noticeable about the good doctor is that he rarely ever speaks of himself or his past. Internally he is a broken man, destroyed by the Terminus Systems and the wretched which live in it. If one asks about his past dealings the Drell will often provide simple answers with little peek into his past. It is partly due to the fact that he does not enjoy going over his past due to painful decisions and incidents in it but also due to the people he's often surrounded by, the scoundrels of the galaxy. He has no one in the way of friends, the ones he once considered that are dead which he blames himself for. He finds it difficult to have personable conversations where he's expected to interject with his own experiences. When he puts on the role of a therapist Satko will give quality advice and put on and friendly face. He sees it as another way to help people, to fix them up emotionally and is happy to do it so long as he's not the one spilling about themselves. In general he is a withdrawn, introverted figure due to his own personal issues. Though he does hold an optimistic view on people around him and his own work, even if he himself is very much a beaten man.

Satko like most of his species is a spiritual, religious man. He believes strongly in one's soul, that a wicked person is not truly complete. In a way he sees it as his life's journey to serve Arashu, the Drell godddess of protection by helping others. Healing their wounds and patching their souls. It is something which was instilled to him by one of his relatives and has stuck with Satko even through his intergalactic travels.

_{A B I L I T I E S}

---

• Trained doctor & surgeon
• Informal shrink

_{E Q U I P M E N T}

---

• M-3 Predator heavy pistol
• Omni-tool

_{S T R E N G T H S & W E A K N E S S E S}

---

• Though lacking anything in the way of degree Satka has been practicing as a black market doctor for just over twenty years. He's administered medical aid to people of all species while ensuring he is well versed in matters of biology for practically all known races. He's also frequently done surgeries on different species, giving him a capable and delicate medical hand.
• A more informal part of his life as a doctor is working with a person's psychology. He's often been paid to offer help akin to that of a therapist. An extremely patient man with a vast amount of life experience he's quite good at helping others emotionally.
• Satka is a devoted pacifist, it is quite unusual for someone whose spent as much time in the darker parts of the galaxy as he has but he upholds it. He's seen his share of needless death, he does not desire to add to it. The only way he'd ever do such a thing is if his life is in extreme danger or someone he cared deeply about was greatly endangered. He's in a no way a fighter beyond simple pistol training which serves as a last resort.
• The Drell doctor is a man filled deeply with regret and pain. Much of his private time is spent dwelling on his past failures to point it destroys him internally. Its difficult for him to snap out of these bouts but he always seems to, it just takes time.

_{G O A L S & R E G R E T S}

---

• Doctor Yual's chief goal is to survive his time abord the Caelestis then use the credits he has acquired to start up another, grander clinic in the Terminus systems. There are many downtrodden people that need help, he'd like that to be the mark he leaves on the galaxy. It's worth another shot right?
• The destruction of his previous medical clinic is by far his greatest regret. The deaths of those inside the clinic haunt him daily, it is something he will never truly escape.

@Heat

Hi @Heat

*Wave*

I love this Drell.

I like that there's a lot of melancholy in this story, I like this character a lot, and it feels almost like a little bit different from what I've seen you do before. Everything in Satka's story makes sense, everything adds up and you've put a lot of time and effort into exploring his story. It's a different take on a Drell than what I usually see.

Is it Satka or Satko? There are a few discrepancies in the sheet so I'm not sure - before you post it, just make sure those are fixed ;)

My only other ntipick is choosing pacifism as a weakness. I'm not sure, I think you can find something else because that's almost something that can be both a strength and a weakness, actually. I might move his pacifism into his personality, and find a physical weakness to replace it since his 2nd weakness looks like depressive bouts.

Mass Effect: Caelestis

Iryk

_{Iryk
5 ⟁ Male ⟁ Vorcha ⟁ Sentinel}

_{A P P E A R A N C E}

---

An image of the frighteningly obsidian hued Vorcha

Vorcha have perhaps the widest range of phenotypes of any sapient species of the Milky Way, but it would nevertheless be an accurate statement to call Iryk atypical. In total mass he is noticeably larger than most of his racial kin having sinewy bulk approaching a Krogan. However he is shorter than them owing to a hunch from top to bottom of his back that leaves him at about two thirds of his hypothetical height; with his hunch he is about 150cm, whereas if he were to straighten out his spine in its entirety he would be far more than two metres. Alas, his back is now fused into its current shape and as such when he wants to intimidate he can only muster about 190cm.

His skin is rough, a well muscled black material reminiscent almost of carbon fibers. His eyes are likewise a shade of black wherein one cannot find the pupil, and very notably his body is covered in many small hooks, studs, spikes, and little plates resulting from his life's adaptations much like the rest of his physique. Many of these spikes are retractable both to assist in maneuvering and in butchering. If one pays close attention they can see bumps and scar tissue where his implants are, but the contours are difficult to make out on black flesh.

_{H I S T O R Y}

---

The discovery of Heshtok - homeworld of the Vorcha - is a recent one to the international community. The persistent violence of the people there lead many to see no interest in doing business anywhere near the very system, but many also saw an opportunity. The lack of official recognition for the Vorcha made them prime prey for quasi-legal slavery operations, and a young Vorcha by the name of Iryk was one of many victims of such a practice.

He was transported to a mining world, the corporation administrating the work there finding his race's adaptability and short lives leading them to be much more disposable than humans, asari, and other races with simple access to unions. With the introduction of Vorcha slaves into labour the company's profits soared and very soon the number of Vorcha slaves on the planet outnumbered those of all other races combined. As more and more of his kin were brought in, Iryk started his race's process of adaptation to his environment. He became dark, hunched, resistant to the elements and his skin turned almost into a chitinous carapace with hooks in to do anything from weathering tunnel collapses to ascending and descending pits unaided by technology or even wrestling with the cockroach like monsters infesting the mines.

But as this transformation began the overseers of his mine noticed very strange things about him. He performed many of his tasks more efficiently than even older, fully adapted Vorcha and after tests for Eezo it was no trouble to determine that he was a biotic. Given the infancy of the Vorcha in the galactic stage proper research upon them was not yet done, but that did not stop corporate leaders looking to boost profits from trying to use experimental implants upon them.

Irtyk was given preferential treatment, him and other biotic Vorcha planned to be managers of their own kind; slaves that ruled the other slaves in exchange for a life approaching that of a free man. He learned to speak, read, and write properly along with a standardized core of science, technology, engineering and mathematics. With his enlightenment he made relationships beyond that of work with some of the tutors and doctors he met. Many were genuinely trying to aid the Vorcha and they soon came to see each other as friends. Yet, his newfound knowledge also lead him to realize the full magnitude of what horrors were being done to his people. It did not take him long in his short breaks to find the pyres where the corpses of his kind worked to death were laid.

There were many more collaborator Vorcha like him, and they started to meet in their breaks. They talked, they planned. They earned more and more trust of their overlords, getting firearms supposedly to take down occasional riots or the many beasts that dwelled on the world. They earned keycards and passwords, they got personal vehicles. The planning was cut short when rumour came of instruments and weapons being developed specifically against the Vorcha in case of an uprising. This told the plotters that they had no more time, and as such they got to work. Having built rapport with their underlings be it by intimidation or with good leadership they knew their amassed resources had the manpower to truly make use of them. In the night they came upon the other settlements of the planet and they burned them to the ground. Many tried to flee the vicious wrath of the Vorcha but for every mining outpost these were in the single digits, these people oft maddened until their last days speaking to reporters of the evils and crimes against life that the obsidian Vorchas would inflict in their vengeance

They hijacked whatever spacecraft they could and flew across the stars. From that point on the history of Iryk mirrors that of most other Vorcha. Those early developmental experiences of his life lead him to know nothing of life save intrigue and plots to kill, and along with his former comrades he could foresee no life save that of the mercenary. After many lesser jobs hunting and then ripping apart anyine fron law enforcement to rival criminals Iryk felt he was readu for greater tasks. It is thus that for his fearsome and savage reputation Iryk found himself hired aboard the Caelestis as something between security and contract killing.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

---

Outwardly Iryk markets himself as naught more than yet another Vorcha; a rather daft but obedient (as long as he's either paid or intimidated) butcher. But he likes to think of himself as much more. He knows of the many concepts so alien to him from the ideological and religious variance of the Citadel races to their odd rituals of mating and etiquette. He can speak as the finest Asari diplomat should he so please, but he is ever frustrated having to hide this lest he be turned in to authorities or bounty hunters as one of the biotic leaders of the disastrous Vorcha uprising he helped lead. As a rule he does not very much like other species, but he is also more than conscious that there are exceptions to the rule of their highborn smugness and arrogance that he experienced on the only home he knew, the related traits easily driving the Vorcha into a maddened frenzy on their exhibition. Though he knows much of other reaces, he often finds it difficult to understand why they are as they are, particularly in matters like morals and sensibilities coming at odds with practicality and utilitarianism such as eating the dead.

Iryk is more than capable of kindness and compassion contrary to the stereotype of his race, but he will never show it unless given it first and as such there are few if any candidates for his benevolence. Though he will still speak with the primitive sentences of many of his other kind he will work very professionally with those he is partnered with, and he will have a particularly good attention to and knowledge of any contract he is currently on which he will follow to the letter and not more or less (save bursts of sadism).

_{A B I L I T I E S}

---

• Decryption
• Throw
• First Aid
• Bloodlust
• Carnage

_{E Q U I P M E N T}

---

• M-97 Viper (modified for a shorter optic scope to be more a battle rifle than a true sniper)
• Flamer - a wrist mounted weapon integrated (but not synonymous) with his omni-tool, it is a a devastating weapon for ranges that are close but not quite melee.
• Omni Tool - though its formal use as a weapon is not yet commonplace in the Galaxy, the Vorcha is happy to use its many functions from wrench to welder in purposes both for which it was designed for, and ones far more vicious and violent.
• Bodysuit - Though the skin of the Vorcha is already rather functional as armour and a hazardous environment suit, its still not often enough (especially in the true vacuums of space). He will almost always have it on given it is tailor made for him being a composite of an old mining suit, pilots suits, armours, and other bits looted off of the dead — it would be rather difficult to get pre-made suits that fit others onto his frame. Most of it is kept inside and away from innocent nostrils, but to those who come into hugging range of the Vorcha will be assaulted by its awful smell.

_{S T R E N G T H S & W E A K N E S S E S}

---

• Adapted Biology: strong, fast, tough, and augmented with implants the body of Iryk is ready for whatever challenges may be thrown at it.
• Engineered mind: Iryk has a deep alien cunning, far more educated than many of his kinsmen. If a test was taken he would even be nearly a standard deviation above average in Citadel race societies; he can speak eloquently in many voices, albeit to most he chooses to speak in the typical Vorcha syntax to hide what is within his head.
• Sadism: While he won't explicitly seek out violence for the sole purpose of causing hurt, any task he does he will try to do it in a manner such that he will inflict as much suffering as possible. Though this gives him great pleasure and soothes his mind, it will more often than not lead to him wasting time, alerting his presence to others in the vicinity, and otherwise hurt him. Likewise, these elements of his fractured mind will naturally make more or less anyone he is with save other Vorcha and some Krogan to be very distrustful of him at best.
• Odd Physiognomy: Iryk is a rather large being contorted into a hunchback provoking far more disgust than most Vorcha already do. This form has helped him at times, but in general it limits his methods of hiding into simply curling up into a compact ball and hoping his dark flesh will keep him unnoticed. Likewise though such a form helped him navigate the mine tunnels and rocky slopes of his earlier life he has at many times found his shape to be a curse when it comes to traversing the interstellar world; he cannot fit into any ventilation shafts, no armour designed for ordinary bodies fits him, and software rarely if ever recognizes him as a humanoid, often mistaking him as some sort of rabid animal or at times even as an automaton.

_{G O A L S & R E G R E T S}

---

• Iryk wants to insure that his people can make a living in the galaxy at large and to insure no more of his kind will be taken advantage of as he and many of his brothers and sisters were. Quite simply put he wants health, wealth, and happiness.
• When the slave rebellion was at its peak it quickly morphed from a conflict of liberation to one of vengeful extermination; in the end, many humans, Drell, Turians, Krogans, Asari, Salarians and others who were kind to both Iryk and other Vorcha met undeserved, and very painful deaths that journalists inevitably reported upon in graphic detail. This would attack Iryk's psyche from many angles: it vindicated thebelief of other races that Vorcha were savage vermin, it it would make the race untrustworthy to the galaxy and thus counterproductive in the quest of the race's growth, and quite simply many of those fallen Iryk had started to consider friends who's deaths he is responsible for. This event more or less broke the mind of Iryk creating the much more vile Vorcha crawling through space now.

@Andreyich

Hello!

This is a fantastic sheet, imo.

I like how you've written in some of the political information on the Vorcha through your history - you've given a good, reasonable foundation to Iryk that makes him really easy to understand, and also to feel sympathy for - to the point I'm actually overlooking his violent nature a little, ha! Super clever, and nicely succinct as well.

I think he's a risky character, he's potentially volatile, in a situation which will absolutely get volatile for... Most of it. But he's not without his redeeming features, you didn't go overboard in one direction or the other.

I'm really happy for Iryk to get a place in the RP.

Mass Effect: Caelestis

Maya D. Carter

Maya Davidia Carter 34 ⟁ Transwoman ⟁ Human ⟁ Nurse/Medic ................................................................................................

A P P E A R A N C E Maya Carter is a very mousy soul, she has the appearance and demeanor of a librarian - despite being a mere cook. It's a mixture of her glasses, and more subdued presence - a quiet person that rarely, if ever, raises her own voice but she shows a more bubbly side from time to time. However, Maya's gender is a bit... ambiguous, much to her chagrin. Probably the first thing that people notice about Maya Carter is that she's a really tall person for a female (and a human). She stands at six-two, and she's pretty skinny, with very few curves if any - a very boyish frame with broad shoulders. Her voice is a bit deep, but fortunately, her facial features are at the very least androgynous. This is all because Maya is transgendered, transitioning after puberty. Maya has embraced her own idea of femininity, even if she isn't nor ever will be conventionally attractive. In an attempt to reach this ideal, Maya has dyed her hair a pink color and let it grow out a lot. It goes past her shoulders and it's curly, afro-textured, and very well maintained by Maya. She, from time to time, she braids a flower or two into her hair. Now Maya descends from African-Americans, and a mess of different Spanish cultures (She believes that she's part Brazilian, Mexican, and Columbian). It's hard to tell her race because her facial features don't give any cues (Her thick lips and skull-shape are more African than anything), and she has very light skin. All most people see is that she's black and then they call it a day.

Now, as stated before, Maya is very tall and somewhat skinny - well, not completely skinny because she has a bit of body fat on her. The lifestyle and occupation that Maya lives don't really require that she be in tip-top shape, and due to hormone replacement she packs on fat a bit more. She tries to keep the excess body fat off, but she has a bit of a belly but it doesn't do anything gross like sag. She also has body fat on other parts on her legs, arms, calves, behind, and breasts - which is pretty much the only thing padding out her curves. People notice that she keeps her body covered up at all times, even in warmer environments. That is because Maya is covered in whipping scars and other old wounds from her time as a slave. They're all over her body and they are ugly, and the young Maya would rather keep them hidden.

_{H I S T O R Y}

---

Maya was born and raised on a space ship, she never felt the natural earth underneath her feet until she was much older. Her parents (and their parents) didn't agree with the Systems Alliance or the Citadel and wanted a life free from alien influence. Thus, they lived as traders that went from place to place in the Terminus Systems trading goods (and smuggling in some cases). It was a difficult lifestyle, given that they were under threat from slavers and pirates. They managed to come up with their own ways to deter pirates and avoid conflict as much as possible. Now again, Maya wasn't always Maya... she was known as Dudley Carter.

Dudley always felt that something was wrong, that his body was maybe not made for him. However, the young Dudley kept to himself and he was generally put to work moving boxes like the rest of his family. He was raised by his mother who also taught him, but he generally grew up alone with little contact from people of his own age. Between school and the work, he barely had any time to really explore these feelings, and any behavior seen breaking the norm was not welcomed. He just kept these feelings in as he had a mild interest in things that were seen as feminine, which evolved into an obsession. Dudley's family was pretty healthy and he had a great relationship with his parents even if they found his behavior odd at times. The colony was beautiful, and he had plenty of other children to play with... until it all came crashing down.

They were attacked by pirates who quickly overwhelmed the family and enslaved them all. Thus, the young Dudley spent a few years of his life as a slave for this pirate group, as his family was sold off to other groups in the Terminus Systems. He was kept around for the menial tasks that the pirates didn't want to do like cleaning and cooking. These few years were absolute hell for Dudley as he was just barely kept alive to serve them and was abused. This was where Dudley realized that his family had a bit of a point not wanting anything to do with aliens. However, the pirates raided a colony in the Attican Traverse that was under Citadel control and the Alliance Navy retaliated and raided the ship. Alliance Marines utterly trounced the pirates and they finally broke the chains around Dudley.

However, he was simply brought under Alliance custody and placed in an orphanage in one of the larger, more prosperous, colonies under the System Alliance's oh so watchful eye. He never had to worry about being enslaved again, fortunately, and thus he was allowed to finally allowed to heal from that awful, awful, experience. Dudley was finally allowed to explore himself as well and realized that wasn't his identity, being a teenager at this point. The colony was a lot more open than Dudley's original place and he started using female pronouns and eventually, he went to a special doctor. Then he got the proper drugs prescribed to him and went through the procedure of changing his name.

And that was the death of Dudley and the birth of Maya Carter.

As Maya; she wanted to help people and avoid that tragedy that happened to her so many years ago, so when she came of age she tried to enlist in the Alliance Navy. However, it was discovered that she has a bit of PTSD from her time as a slave and she couldn't pass the psychological evaluation. This was a bummer at the time but Maya didn't give up and decided to attend college, but this wasn't exactly ideal as an orphan with no money. The options were becoming more and more limited as Maya eventually took a job as a secretary in a doctor's office - One that she found out was a front for a Cerberus operation. Cerberus members would get hurt and they would come there to be discretely patched up and given an official cover. Maya was afraid at first, but then she found out about the opportunities.

Through this doctor, Maya was recruited into Cerberus as a medic. She was taught all the ways to patch up the Cerberus operatives that got injured. With Cerberus, Maya thought that she was helping people, but she quickly found out that she was just another pawn in the Illusive Man's game. That they were just a disgusting terrorist group, despite all the great things she heard about them - and all of her own xenophobia. That was when Maya had enough, took all of her things, and disappeared without a trace - they came looking for her but she fled into the Terminus Systems.

Probably the most obvious place for a deserter but Maya put her skills that she learned under Cerberus to good use as a freelance contractor. She worked under a doctor under the guise of a nurse for the longest and she's... seen some shit. Eventually, Maya took a job for an Asari Captain for a shady operation... while she was hesitant, it was a quick and easy way out of Omega - and they would give her free food and a place to sleep.

Sounded like a good deal, right?

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

---

Despite it all, Maya attempts to make the best of things and put on a smile on her face. Despite more or less a back-alley doctor for a bunch of criminals, mercenaries, and other thugs, she has some exceptional customer service, so to speak. It's a mixture of genuine kindness and some remnants of her past trauma as a slave - putting on a smile made them beat her less. Maya realized that she had a tough life and that she's unlikely to work past it but damn she's going to try. Maya is cheerful and kind, making sure to treat everyone with respect until they prove they don't deserve it. That's usually how she is on the job and is one that isn't afraid to make conversation with people. Off the job, or if it's not necessary, she's a bit quieter and more focused on the job.

Maya is a hard worker and is the kind of person that's better kept busy or else she'll begin to go a bit crazy. She prides herself on being the most efficient and productive person and she doesn't really have a lot of patience or care for somebody who isn't. While Maya isn't the confrontational type, she isn't above throwing passive-aggressive or snide comments someone's way. Definitely will give someone a hard time if they think that they're better than her due to arbitrary reasons. Maya has a sharp tongue but saves it for the right occasion, or the right idiot. Maya has a good sense of humor and is usually sarcastic and making teasing comments towards people - provided that they are on board with it.

However, Maya has a lot of past trauma to work through despite her best interests and is the kind of person that has a hard time dealing with stress. Maya usually shuts down if faced with an issue that she cannot immediately solve or one that takes her out of her own comfort zone. Because if she cannot solve it on her own she'll attempt to avoid it altogether. The woman has a lot of trouble with dealing with other races, or "aliens" she insultingly refers to them as. She was born in a xenophobic community that was ultimately proven right when Maya was kidnapped by Batarian slavers and enslaved for several years of her life. Maya doesn't like aliens, nor does she like dealing with them, but she knows that to survive out in Terminus she has to swallow her pride. Ultimately, she has learned to keep her distance from such aliens.

Maya is realistic and down to earth, and while she tries to put on the facade of cheerfulness, she can't help but tell people the grim truth. She also attempts to be a moral, kind-hearted, person because she feels some deep regret for helping Cerberus. She feels as if she can make up for it by helping people but she knows many lives were indirectly ended due to her skillset. Maya was misled and now she tries not to be so naive and trusting.

_{A B I L I T I E S}

---

• Medic.

_{E Q U I P M E N T}

---

• Special-Medical Omnitool: One that she was given during her time in Cerberus and it can do everything a regular Omni-tool can do. However, it can scan a being's vital signs and dispense Medi-gel.
• M-3 Predator: Maya knows that she has to protect herself and thus she got herself a pistol. An M-3 Predator is as standard as pistols can get, but it's pretty versatile and well-rounded.

_{S T R E N G T H S & W E A K N E S S E S}

---

• Medic: Very skilled at applying First Aid, even if it's best suited for humans. She can patch someone up really well and keep them in the fight. Even aliens from time to time.
• Shoulder to cry on: Maya is a very good listener and tries to understand people and let them vent to her. Due to her own tragic past, she's understanding.
• Lack of combat experience: Maya only kinda knows how to shoot a pistol and against someone who knows what they're doing, well, she better get the drop on them.
• Xenophobia: Maya is very distrustful of aliens and is more likely to believe a shady human over a well-standing alien. Also, her medical knowledge starts and stops at humans.

_{G O A L S & R E G R E T S}

---

• To help people out.
• Maya regrets joining Cerberus and keeping terrorists alive, it haunts her conscience to this day.

@The Ghost Note

Hi @The Ghost Note

I'll preface this by saying there's a lot to like about Maya.

She has some really interesting aspects to her personality. You haven't been afraid to really push those more negative traits that serve to make a character feel real and dimensional.

I like her history, I like that her skills only really stretch to humans. It's realistic and interesting for our setting.

A few things I've noticed, however. You mention in the appearance section that she is a cook - but it's not brought up again, and you switch to medic. Was this intentional?

Her goal is also very vague - I'd like to see something more specific to her. I think you can find that by just going over your sheet again, and thinking about the character some more.

I love the concept, and Maya is accepted - however, I'd like to see you just give the sheet another once over, to see if you can find an element that will elevate the character a little bit more - cross all of the t's and dot all of the i's.

I'm going to be making a Discord, so feel free to hop in there and we can brainstorm there as well :)

Mass Effect: Caelestis

Sabinus

41 ⟁ Male ⟁ Turian ⟁ Soldier

A P P E A R A N C E
________________________________________

Image property of Archangel7021 https://archangel7021.deviantart.com/favourites/64102932/Turian-Markings

Sabinus is a typical turian in height and stature, standing at 6’05” (182cm) and weighing around 208 pounds (94 kilograms), he maintains a strict military-style fitness regimen where he exercises every day, schedule permitting. As such, under his brown-grey carapace is a fit and lean individual that can still keep up with soldiers two decades his junior.

Compared to other turian facial markings, Sabinus’ tattoos are much more subtle being of a white-grey colouration that covers the entirety of lips and a rectangular patch on his chin up until the bottom of his nose and the start of his cheeks following along the length of the fringes on either side of his head, and the entirety of his nose branching off into a trident on his brow, and unmarked eye sockets. Within the light colouration nest a distinctive pair of intelligent and thoughtful sea-green eyes peer out like ponds on a sandy shore. His metallic carapace is pitted and cracked like most turians, giving his body a very rough appearance in contrast to other species, barring krogan.

A distinctive feature of Sabinus’ face is the bottom portion of his right mandible is missing, a stark reminder of the dangers of combat as he received the wound from a sniper while on deployment. He also earned another bullet scar inches from his heart from the same engagement

H I S T O R Y
________________________________________

Born in 2143CE on Palaven to Quinnus and Atia Tannyx, both professionals in decidedly different fields. His father was a historian for the 16th Legion and his mother a member of the hastatim, the anti-insurgency “execution squad” that enforces order across the various turian colonies. As such, it was drilled into Sabinus from birth an appreciation and respect for both the proud history of turian civilization and the paramount importance of civic order, prompting him to apply himself in his studies as a youth to prepare himself for a climb up the meritocracy, honing both his body and mind in anticipation of his 15th birthday where he would begin his period of conscription.

While admittedly average in most fields, Sabinus’ dedication and innate ability to grasp concepts and be flexible in his approaches prevented him from getting stuck in the same stagnant rut as some of his peers and rivals attempting to position themselves for a favourable future. While not a particularly popular child, Sabinus maintained an air of levity and a good-natured approach to life that nevertheless endeared him to his peers and made him a well-liked team member across the numerous team exercises that the turian children were often drilled in.

Sabinus was only 14 when the Relay 314 Incident occurred, alarming the young turian, who was just about to enter the service. This was the first contact scenario since the turians were brought in to fight the Krogan Rebellions, and before that, the Rachni Wars that had in turn brought the krogan into galactic civilization. Although neither of his parents were called into active service due to both the short duration of the conflict and their respective positions within the Hierarchy, a very real concern had taken hold of Sabinus about being sent straight from training into war with these new aliens.

While his fears never materialized and a peaceful resolution was reached being the Citadel Council and humanity, Sabinus nevertheless found equal parts intrigue and fear about the humans that had given the turian fleet a bloody nose with a shocking defeat. He resolved that he would study the newcomers and prepare himself for being the vanguard against their future aggressions. With a new resolve and that goal in mind, Sabinus set his sights on joining the special forces and headed into his period of service with renewed vigor and determination.

After a rather typical basic and infantry training course where Sabinus had managed to cross the threshold into the top third of his class, he was attached to the 17th Marine Legion as a fresh recruit into the ranks where he was a model soldier, never complaining and maintaining a high level of initiative, prompting his commanding officers to recommend him for leadership training. It was around this time that Sabinus’ resolve in the meritocracy had begun to see its first cracks when word of violent suppression by Hierarchy forces lead to high civilian and suspected rebel casualties on some of the more troubled colonies in protest of the human menace.

Disgusted to find that his own mother had been responsible for being one of the pivotal figures in the crackdown on Oma Ker, Sabinus felt there had to be a better way forward that wasn’t so severe. It was one thing to study turian military history and see casualty numbers and percentages in the text, presented as something to be proud of, but seeing it put into practice against people who may have been grossly misguided but nevertheless still citizens put down mercilessly left a pit in Sabinus’ stomach. Turians were known for being prideful to a fault, but at what cost? He resolved he’d find another way and lead by example.

During the leadership training, Sabinus was criticized for being overly cautious and electing to commit to a fighting retreat and regroup in a fireteam on fireteam training exercise that had prompted him to prolong the skirmish for several hours, ultimately losing two of his ten squad members while utterly defeating the enemy fireteam, which pressed the attack when they felt they were at the advantage. While Sabinus’ team was ultimately victorious, his commanders were torn on his methodology; outside of the evident victory, he could have secured it prior to his retreat at greater risk, but it would have prevented the enemy from regrouping under a more experienced officer.

Defending his actions, Sabinus declared that wasting lives left less soldiers for the next fight, be it a new offensive or securing the position. He refused to commit troops to a battle that would all but guarantee heavy losses if a better alternative existed, and that those under his command deserved better than to be expended like game pieces. It wasn’t a position that was widely appreciated by those up the chain of command, but it was one that endeared his fellow candidates to him when operating under Sabinus’ command.

Deciding that a life as an infantryman wasn’t going to work out and he wasn’t likely to see the promotions that would enable him to begin making changes at a regimental level, Sabinus finished off his leadership training and quietly applied for a transfer to the military police, which was accepted without much fanfare and within a few short months was posted to Digeris, finding police work to be much more in line with what he wished to see out of the Hierarchy, although it itself wasn’t without its problems, but it was something he could work with.

While his concerns about humanity lingered, enough problems persisted on Digeris that demanded most of his attention, and the focus on peacefully resolving conflicts and minimizing loss of life appealed to Sabinus, who quickly rose through the ranks until he became a sergeant in one of the capital’s precincts, his combat arm training eventually lending itself to becoming a member of the city’s emergency response unit. Commendations came naturally with the job and Sabinus earned a reputation for being a calm and reasonable voice that could defuse salvageable situations and a hard hitting, no-nonsense strike leader in situations where decisive tactical maneuvers were required, such as bomb threats and hostage situations.

One such situation became a pivotal moment in the turian’s life, and nearly the end of it, when a vacationing group of humans were taken hostage by the same sort of anti-human malcontents that Atia Tannyx, his mother, had put down years before, putting Sabinus in a situation that required him to attempt to rescue the same people he’d grown up wary of at the best of times, and deeply concerned about the rest. When negotiations fell through, Sabinus’s team assaulted the resort, killing the hostage takers and beginning to extract the human hostages. While escorting them to the safety of the armoured vehicles that had acted as a barricade, a hidden sniper’s shot rang out, piercing Sabinus’ helmet and ripping part of one of his mandibles from his face.

Scrambling to cover the humans, another shot entered through his back, missing his spine and his heart, but puncturing one of his lungs in the process, incapacitating the strike leader but ultimately saving the hostages’ lives before the threat was neutralized. Quick acting medical personnel saved Sabinus’ life, although it was a long road to recovery, even with the best of asari and salarian medical expertise, forcing the turian to endure multiple trips to several state of the art medical facilities to save his collapsed lung and regrow the lost tissue.

For the next six years, Sabinus remained on modified duties behind a desk until the clock passed his 30th birthday, completing his mandatory civil service period. Retiring from the force in 2173CE, Sabinus was left without a clear purpose or direction in life as he recovered from his near-fatal injury. Deciding to make the most of his time at home to keep his mind busy, he turned cleaning into a military-like discipline and began to develop something of a green thumb as gardening became a major hobby of his. While he did his best to keep his mind occupied, his separation from the service had begun to take his toll; being outside of a unit and without a clear sense of purpose, the turian suffered through a bought of depression and listlessness that robbed him of a sense of self-worth and drive, a lingering animosity lingered towards his injuries.

It was perhaps fortune or fate that a message arrived in his terminal from the very people he saved during the hostage rescue, stating that they had looked for Sabinus for years without much luck due to the government’s insistence of protecting the identities of their operatives. This remained true for the couple until contact was made with Sabinus’ former commander who pointed the family in the right direction, making a decision off of the official channels due to his belief that the request was genuine and that Sabinus probably could use some reminder that what he did was honourable.

Wishing to thank him for his sacrifice and giving them a second shot at life, the humans invited Sabinus to Elysium to their estate to at least try to give some measure of thanks to the turian that saved their lives. Having nothing holding him back and a sense of obligation, Sabinus accepted Marshal and Lucy Lamond’s invitation and chartered a ship to the alpine human colony out in the Attican Traverse. Little did Sabinus know at the time, but his month stay would end up being a defining moment his life and far more meaningful than he would have ever expected when he agreed to the offer.

Without knowing what to expect from human culture, at this juncture in Sabinus’ life his suspicions of humans had largely eroded in light of field experience and shifting political climates towards the galactic newcomers, who seemed to adapt readily to just about everything; it was only about a decade since they made first contact with another alien species and now they were regular fixtures on the Citadel and making the most of their new connections. Parts of humanity reminded Sabinus of the Volus thanks to their shrewd business-minded acumen and abilities to work around imposed restrictions to turn their circumstances to their advantage.

Sabinus was certain that whatever politicians offered several Traverse worlds for colonization thought they were making a clever joke given how dangerous the region was, but humans jumped at the opportunity with alarming enthusiasm, somehow both defying expectation and enraging the Batarian Hegemony in one shot. One of the crown jewels of these new colonies was the one Sabinus was invited to and there was a certain amount of trepidation about visiting a human world after a lifetime of distrust and apprehension of the species. What he wasn’t expecting was that he’d enjoy it to the point he would move there to start a new life, finding the break from the Hierarchy that he didn’t realize was stifling him.

Receiving gratitude for actions that had simply been expected for being a turian was a novel and slightly uncomfortable sensation for Sabinus, but he was nevertheless appreciative of the opportunities he was offered, the Lamonds using their networks to get him a security position at the city’s spaceport, which was in need of alien officers to deal with the increasing traffic from Citadel space. He maintained a close friendship with the Lamonds during his time on Elysium and he found the human populace to mostly be kind and agreeable, as well as being far more even handed with how they handled trouble. Workplace promotions and bonuses were something he had no idea existed, and it was clear that humans on the whole tended to value individuals more so than the collective, which required something of a shift of perspective for Sabinus. A few sour encounters with prejudiced humans only helped him to finally erode what lingering distrust he had for humanity as he could see the person he used to be in those individuals and he understood now how irrational and petty it was.

After hearing about the geth and Sovereign’s attack on the Citadel and the subsequent fallout, Sabinus decided to the closest thing to active duty he could manage. While Elysium was comfortable and his security position had enough interesting situations to keep his mind sharp, he found himself missing the structured and disciplined turian lifestyle and a sense of adventure began to take root. Sabinus felt that he needed to prepare for a war that might be coming to defend the homes he’d grown to love, and he needed to understand the threats that had struck the biggest blow to galactic stability since the Krogan Rebellions. He had been around for 4 decades and yet there was still so much of the galaxy that was unknown to him. It was perhaps fate or good fortune that the name Caelestis crossed his desk, a chance to venture off the beaten path and find out what was out there. Deciding that it was a risk worth taking, Sabinus reached out to Naryxa Kesir to offer his services as a chief security and intelligence officer.

P E R S O N A L I T Y
________________________________________

Sabinus is an agreeable individual and an effective leader, caring about those who serve with him and his friends and their physical well-being. He is a flexible individual who looks at the big picture and tries to find the best way to accomplish his goals while minimizing risk, to which end he often will seek council with his comrades to count on their experiences and knowledge to fill in the gaps he may not have considered. Having something of a hybrid turian and human perspective on life, he carries this over into any job he takes on where he combines the flexibility and adaptability of human doctrine with the rigid discipline and overwhelming show of force of the turian doctrine to handle situations where diplomacy has failed. He is willing to change tactics and approaches to situations if one way doesn’t work, preferring to use his team like a toolkit to find what works rather than a blunt instrument.

Maintaining a friendly and compassionate personality, Sabinus cares greatly for his team and mission, and as such maintains an air of optimism and determination that acts as a reassurance for those whose hope may falter in light of several months of bleak survival and diminishing supplies or other seemingly insurmountable obstacle. He leads by example and takes pains to understand those he works with, only exposing them to areas outside of their comfort zones if all other options are extinguished. His turian training shines through in the darkest of times, and his unflappable disposition under fire and ability to make split-second decisions is an inspiration to his fireteam. It’s important for him that everyone makes it home at the end of the day.

Recreationally, Sabinus is a gardener and he likes to work with his hands on big projects with the eventual goal to build T himself a home by hand using the wilderness’ natural resources and grow a garden with seeds from back home. He isn’t much of a drinker, limiting himself to one or two drinks at a time, and he is still an avid sportsman, keeping himself physically active and immersed in the community where possible. He isn’t one for getting involved in the politics and despite his personal opinions, he thinks everyone has a role to play in making things work, even if they can’t exactly agree on methods. So long as people stay in their lane and don’t try to micromanage his job, he’s more than happy to extend the courtesy.

A B I L I T I E S
________________________________________
• Concussive Shot
• Fortification
• Cryo Rounds
• Adrenaline Rush
• Fragmentation Grenade

E Q U I P M E N T
________________________________________
•
M-55 Argus Assault Rifle
•
Lieberschaft 2180 “Evicerator” shotgun
•
Elanus Risk Control Services M-3 Predator Heavy Pistol
•
Kassa Fabrication M-23 Incisor Sniper Rifle

S T R E N G T H S & W E A K N E S S E S
________________________________________
• Disciplined under pressure
• Empathetic leadership
• Martial outlook and conditioning limits consideration of other options
• Limited technical ability

G O A L S & R E G R E T S
________________________________________
• Goal: To understand the nature of the threat the galaxy faces, Sabinus does not believe the attack on the Citadel was an isolated incident.
• Regret: Giving so many years of his life and sacrificing his body to a government that viewed individuals as expendable, and himself for having a part of himself that misses it.

@Dervish

Hi @Dervish

Really happy to see Sabinus on another outing again, and I appreciate how you've made some tweaks, changes, and updates. I think that's just indicative of how your writing has changed and improved since I last saw him.

I like how grounded he is. That he's stable, and also his empathy which I think will come along handy on this trip - it's a character quality that is always needed.

I like the history, and the attention to detail that you pay - flexing hard on your general ME knowledge. He's a very well fleshed out character, and I can see that you're excited to revisit him as well. I am interested to know what makes Sabinus tick - he's a very easy-going, down-to-earth character with an easy, level personality. I would like to see you push him past those limits of comfort, and hopefully we can get to a point in the RP where that can happen.

I'm excited to see how he grows this time around, the choices he'll make, the things he'll do, and the relationships he'll form.

Congrats, please move him to the character tab - Sabinus is accepted!

Mass Effect: Caelestis

I’ll start reviews tonight in time for posting tomorrow.

I also need to do my sheet; and the first IC.... Busy meeeeee!

The Elder Scrolls: Eye of the Hurricane

A Gift in the Ground

---

Even the gentle weight of her footfall crunched leaves in her path, drove them down into the soil, vine by vine as she sprinted through - bag in hand, clutched in between bloody fingers. She was a shriek of silver amidst the deep, dense green. She ran.

In the silence she left behind, the sound of blood drops making their way from stem, to leaf, to root became a deafening trail to supernatural ears.

For the woman running, she at least had in her tense grip exactly what she came for. Her two companions were nowhere to be found. She worried about the Nord, and less about the wiry Imperial thief. But she had it.

Feeling as if there was enough distance between herself and the danger, she forced herself to stop. Any further was dangerous too. The gash in her side and the blood at her neck wouldn’t take care of themselves.

Under the gleaming, milky light of the moon she squatted down to her haunches and let her palms erupt into shining gold, pressing here and there, stitching her own flesh back together by sheer force of will and masterful magic technique.

“Y’alright there ma’am?”

Immediately on edge, she drew a knife from her belt and pointed it at the absurdly tall Nord who had arrived silently behind her. She was surprised to see him hardly flinch. Instead, he tilted his head with a warm, yet curious expression and simply uttered “I wouldn’t ma’am.”

“Get back then, at least,” she barked.

With a carefree smile, Fjolte let his eyes trace over the woman’s slender figure. He made note of the widespread redness around her ribs, pulling the otherwise loose cloth taut to her actual skin. “You’re very hurt,” he observed.

“I’ve survived worse,” she said, taking small steps back now, the bag firmly in her hand. “What are you doing here?” she asked aggressively with a raised brow, twirling the knife in her hand - still pointed at him. Fjolte raised his hands carefully.

“Took myself for a walk, wanted to sit in peace for a while,” he smiled slowly.

“Lies,” the Breton woman shot back, narrowing her glacial gaze at him. “What did you see here?”

“Just a woman who might have been in trouble, but I know she’s well -- I see she’s well,” Fjolte answered with a reassuring nod. It seemed to disarm her just enough to lower the blade, and release at least half of the tension in her knife hand.

She continued to glare, pacing around him as if she was a predator deciding whether or not he was about to be her next meal. “You saw nothing, that’s right,” she spoke out as her lips toyed with curling out of the intense frown into at least a smirk.

“But if the woman does need for some care, I’d like her to at least know I can,” Fjolte added, remaining steady in his spot.

“Some kind of hero are you then?” the Breton asked - showing her smirk at last. “Think you’re saving a damsel in distress?”

“Only if she should ask me too,” he answered back quickly.

The woman scoffed at that. “As much as I wish to continue on, I have to keep going. Don’t follow me. If you follow me, I’ll kill you,” she warned - she meant it.

Fjolte nodded again, lowering his hands non-threateningly. “Oh this I know for sure.”

Soon after, she turned on her heel and bolted again. Only a gentle thud took Fjolte’s attention away from watching her blur and fade away. A heavy thunk of something landing upon a cushion of soil.

As he approached it, his own eyebrow saw fit to quirk in amusement. A diamond, the size of his palm, half splattered in blood, sat in the ground.

“Well colour me fucked…” he muttered before he reached down to pick it up.

Mass Effect: Caelestis

So I kinda like this idea of playing a chef, to take you all to flavour town. Could be fun. @Stormflyx am I cool to drop in a CS for review?

@DirtyDingo

Applications haven’t closed yet so you absolutely are!