Member
Kaithe Dame
Snowdrops
Moonlit Ghost
Nallore
TokyoPewPew
TrippyNightmare
wintersoldier
Noctis
Sp00ki
Carantathraiel
I’ve been taken from, now I will be the one to reft
 ___________________________________ P R O F I L E Age ?? (Looks in her 30’s) Sex Female Height 160 cm Weight 51 kg Race Human Origin Arms Manufacturer/Mechanic/Engineer Transportation N/A Starting Location Celestin -> Roadside Encampment (Denton) Color Code #FFB58A ___________________________________ I N V E N T O R Y -Canteen -Stiletto dagger -Cigarettes -Lubricant and mechanical tools ____________________________________ E Q U I P M E N T - Andronicus: Andronicus is Reaver's primary weapon that is none other than a laser rifle of her own design. It's a rather noble design that fits quite well in the hands and is rather lightweight. It has a blocky and rectangular appearance with a guard that fits snug between arm and body. It's run off of power cells of various types, but micro fission cells. - Strider: A high powered laser pistol that emits concentrated beams of light with similar design to that of the rifle. A stocky pistol with a long barrel makes this a hearty side arm. - No armor aside from her mechanical body parts. - Gadgets/Tools: -Energy Cells -Cybernetic Eye: Reaver has constructed her own eye through several iterations. Her current eye can assess health and display how visible certain body parts are. -Lockpicking set ____________________________________ A T T R I B U T E S Strength: -1 Fitness: 2 Dexterity: 3 Perception: 3 Intellect: 6 (+4 Metallurgy) Endurance: 2 | ____________________________________________________________________________ APPEARANCE DESCRIPTION Reaver is almost never seen completely enshrouded in visage covering head to toe. Often the only thing visible is the robotic eye constantly whizzing and whirring about, trying to constantly map out the area around her. The heat of the wasteland and the unbearable conditions have become secondary to her homeostasis and now more of a necessity than a choice. The bagginess of her accouterment also benefits her in eliciting a shadow that is nonbinary. Often times she’s mistaken as a man which surpassingly in this day and age still manages to be a boon to her authority and autonomy. How could she cloak her voice however? Well, half of her body is completely robotic and mechanically operated. Afflicting part of her larynx has given her the ability to manipulate the vibrato of her voice electronically. That’s not to say her normal voice, unmolested, isn’t very feminine or natural sounding. She’s most notably seen in baggy white pants, now stained beige from harsh sand blow, a long sleeve white shirt and a vest with purple and gold trim on the sides, all pulled together with a red sash. Underneath her clothes is just a simple black tank top, a military green bandana holding up her wildly unkept orange hair and spilling down to cover the burns on her right side. Her good eye is a deep blue and the cybernetic eye is oft covered with a lens. The rest of her right side when she is completely nude is covered in scar tissue and sever burn damage that she sustained from an explosion and has since recovered from. The damage was so extensive her right arm and legs were replaced with mechanical arms and legs she designed and built for herself. There has been no poisoning from the alloys used nor any discomfort or pain really, aside from the phantom feeling. She’s been constantly working on upgrades and new blueprints on keeping her limbs relevant in the violence of the landscape. ____________________________________________________________________________ BACKSTORY Street Urchin. Rat. Orphan. Any of those titles were apt in their description of Reaver and subsequently her brother Titus. The wars, although never directly engaged and present with them, took a lot from everyone. That was the one discrimination that they were unable to subvert, it took indiscriminately and ultimately the next variable in the equation was the lives of their parents. This left the two youngin’s quite ill equipped to handle the struggles of the wasteland and the rapidly descending crime and lecherous behavior of those trying to survive from the system that was drawn against them. Luckily Titus was quite a bit older than her, so he had some semblance of aptitude for the streets and how to navigate the world where she did not. She took her brother's word as gospel, never straying from him nor going against any notion or plan he had drafted up. There were times rife with the inability to cope with her immaturity and adolescence that was a normal reaction for a budding child, but there was no vehicle or conduit for her to experience that in a world that needed her hardened sooner than she’d like. Completely stripped of her childhood whimsy and innocence. The two adapted well, creating their own cons, becoming proficient in pick pocketing and diversionary tactics. Stealing, drifting, killing mutated animals or other that were in their proficiency to handle. Eventually their bodies would catch up to their schemes and even serve as a welcomed bonus, now able to handle bigger scams and even beginning to delve into robberies and sometimes, as much as she protested, accidental manslaughter. There was nothing the two couldn’t do or so they thought, while they imagined and articulated that they were being careful. Double checking their tracks had been scattered by wind in sand, never hitting the same target twice nor staying in the same area for longer than a few days, they had been followed. What small notoriety they manifested for themselves had caught some wandering eyes, where other’s paid them no mind. The Striders had been following the coincidence of each town they visited for trade having experienced minor theft and other crimes that had damaged the supply and quantity eligible to be traded. The nuisance that was eating at their profits was soon going to be no longer. It wasn’t much later, when the two had found shelter in the wasteland that under the cover of night did the two stir awake from the sound of thunder rolling down on them. Peering out the tent Titus had seen the veil of night being pierced by the headlights of a small militia of dirt bikes and dune racers descending onto them. In a panic the two did their best to scurry and run off together, eventually deciding to break off to ensure one of them made it out successfully with their freedom intact. All she could remember was the rocks cutting at her feet as she refused to look back with tears welling up in her eyes. To all his credit and distractions the two had been caught and kidnapped. If you could call seizing orphans as kidnapping. The two were given a choice to die right then or to be swallowed up into the faction and become part of their coalition. The latter being the obvious option they agreed to having their stolen goods sequestered as payment for entry. Over the years the two joined the striders relatively seamlessly, each finding their niche. Reaver in anything mechanical, serving as both the autobody shop doctor and the weapon pharmacist. Titus in the more physically demanding crime side of things. It wasn’t until the two were selected to run a trade that needed both muscle and mind to complete since it reeked of red flags. Regardless, the two accepted and traveled a few days to make the trade. Their naïveté would be their undoing as the trade was an undercover sting operation conducted by the NRS, having heavily monitored the strider encampment for a while. Titus reacted violently as was his nature and before Reaver could oppose a medley of gunfire and explosions had begun a chain reaction. Reaver did her best to fight, but the two were pinned down. Just like that day they separated to warrant the survival of one, they did the same here once more. They exchanged one last yearning look before they took off. Unluckily for her, she had stepped on a mine that had erupted and engulfed her body in flame and pressure. She had been left for dead by the NRS while the fate of her brother was ultimately left unknown to her. It wasn’t until weeks later she awoke, severely burned, amputated, and left blind in one eye in a new encampment the striders moved into. She had been in a small coma and never showed any signs of improving. Since then Reaver refused to give up on herself nor repay the NRS and find some solace in the fate of her brother regardless if dead or alive. Now she’s worked on herself enough to survive in the wasteland alone, with the support of the striders in her back pocket if needed, but they understood her reason for leaving regardless of their protest. She’s been wandering nomadically across the wasteland now taking up residency and trade in the ruins of Denton. ____________________________________________________________________________ PERSONALITY Reaver is rather cold and stoic, not sure if that comes with the territory of being disguised most of if not all the time for her safety and that of others. Behind her fabrics and bandages she’s rather detached and often is an intimidating presence in the room of silence if there is one. Her judging can be felt in the lingering stale air of the wind. She’s not one for many words and when she is, it mostly relates to business and nothing else. Not one for speaking about herself nor possessing sentimentality unless it relates to her brother and her faction. What she does share can mostly just be reiterated to be a spoken resume of her skills and abilities. A mystery wrapped in a secret is the best way to describe her and just like her visage she needs to be unraveled delicately in hopes to find anything more genuine about her. She’s much in the way of an isolationist in this period of her life and drawn to tradition and anything vintage. Her solace was found in the machinery before the war and whatever rust and war has not touched. She prefers everyone to keep to their own business and not delve too much as it only leads to problems and false sympathy. In a more comfortable setting she has unexpected quips regardless how crude or sardonic they are. Yet in combat she’s quite the opposite, it’s almost as if the mechanical side of her body turns her into a machine, there’s no lack of thought or emotion that drives her to otherwise make a trivial human led mistake. ____________________________________________________________________________ MOTIVATION AND OUTLOOK Her motivations are a two front, the first being her eternal search for her brother and the devastation of NRS and the other being to touch and intimately satiate her need for carnal knowledge on all things antiquity that have a mechanical component. As far as outlook goes, it fluctuates between grim times and opulent mechanical peaks. ____________________________________________________________________________ MODIFIERS Metallurgy: Half of her life being exposed to understanding and the proliferation of advanced technologies for her faction and the juxtaposition of becoming her own eternal work has lended Reaver the abundance in her intellectual faculties to accommodate her needs. Giving her a +4 in intelligence. |
