Tortoise — Roleplayer Guild

Name:

Joy Janeway. 

Nickname(s):

J.J. 
(pronounced Jay-Jay)

Age:

25

Gender:

Female

Sexuality:

Heterosexual

Date-of-Birth:

April 2nd

Nationality:

Ireland

Appearance:

Personality:

Joy Janeway was born broken. 

A malformed segment of the brain left her incapable of reaching much beyond an eight-year-old's conception of the world. Mental retardation. When she was young, her well-achieved mother and masculine father looked at her as an extension of their success: a beautiful little daughter who would make great things of herself, they were certain. When her mental flaw was uncovered, that pride turned to fear. 

She was given her first cybernetic implant, designed to counteract her inborn flaw.

It was small one, buried deep into her brain tissue, but the results were miraculous. Her intelligence sky-rocketed, she was taken from the "special" classes to the normal ones, social skills finally showed signs of life. But while no one could see the electric device adjusting her mind's every signal, she could feel it. It hurt. Very, very badly. Only after months of that little girl begging to "go back the way I was" did a shocked doctor realize the implant was destroying her. It was irremovable, but also unsustainable. She was on the path to death.

So to counteract the malfunctioning, she received five implants.

A few years passed peacefully. "Jay Jay," she was calling herself, was predominately a high-level pupil of all her teachers. Then the decay began once more: her movements were jerking, her steps were off. Her mother noticed bruises over the preteen's arms and legs, a new mark left whenever she rammed herself into furniture. Worse, she was talking to herself frequently- nobody could ignore the paranoia, either, or her sudden rage at even the smallest transgression. "Your brain is still fighting the original implant. By rejecting our machinery," the doctor sagely intoned, "your immune system is killing you!"

They could only hope that, by adding yet more devices, they would be able to force the girl's decaying brain into accepting her original implantations. 

It worked. After years spent under surgery, modification and adaptation... Joy was finally safe. With, however, a cruel irony: her parents did this all to give her a normal childhood, but now it was too late for that. 

She was a teenager. A teenager with a chrome-colored wave of metal encasing the back of her neck, a prosthetic limb replacing her left hand, and a computer articulating thoughts on her behalf. She was intelligent, and she was (mostly) sane, but she was not a child any longer. Even with the best efforts of the best professionals her family could afford, the original implant was always faulty. She still requires a doctor's care every six months, or her brain will begin to decay again.

As the years passed, joining the I.O.S.E. became an easy choice for Joy. At first, it was difficult to get in: the administration was nervous about allowing in a woman who, technically speaking, was still brain-damaged. She only slid in through her intelligence and determination.

With the growing, growing, growing threat of "permanent implant malfunction" at her back, she feels a drive to do something valuable with her life before it's too late, and a responsibility not to waste the second opportunity this technology has granted her.

She knows they notice her: she can see it in their wide-eyed stares at the chrome-coloured implants, the stressed eyes, the prosthetic left hand- then they jerk away in shame when her gaze confronts them.

Yes, she sees them watching her. Then she smiles. Then she sweetly says hello. 

It doesn't take anyone long to notice her lightening intellect, or her equally impressive kindness. She talks fast, thinks fast, and befriends fast. She has a compliment for everyone. It is in her nature to be loving. 

Even when the implants try tugging her in another direction. 

Janeway's mental state worsens every day right up until treatment. Months pass Joy by, until her naturally determined and optimistic personality is overshadowed by a quiet suffering. Insomnia forms bags under eyes, sudden pains ruin her grace and coordination, paranoia takes away her cheer, and flashes of rage steal the light out of her smile. She becomes tired, in pain, afraid and angry, waiting for her next medical session.

It's an agonizing circle. Inbetween her bi-yearly treatments, Janeway searches for a meaning in life- something that will make it all seem worthwhile. She studies dozens of religions. She experiments with many. Joy has lived as a Christian, a Hindu, a Pagan, and (her favorite) a Jew, yet she has fallen away from each and every faith. She desperately wants to believe there is a spiritual truth to the world. If only she could find it.

Position on The Condor:

Explorer

Skills:

Firearms Expert:

Janeway's condition makes her feel... powerless. She has no control over her own moods, or sometimes, even her own thoughts. Practicing weaponry gives her back a sense of control. She's used nearly every firearm known to man, at least once or twice.

Renaissance Woman: 

While at University, Joy immersed herself in studies. She learned the required courses for starship-work, then piled on extracurricular work in Theology, Comparative Religions, and Philosophy. Granted, this knowledge of minimal use on-board the Condor, but she is still proud to know.

Reflexes:

Janeway has incredible reflexes, owing partially to genetics, and partially to the firearm training. She's very quick on the draw.

Years on The Condor:

None- new arrival.

Other:

On a light note, she enjoys gardening. Since receiving her final brigade of biotech, she's taken up an interest in growing otherwise sickly plants on artificial substrates and hydroponics. 

On another, slightly less light and more ironic note, she's developed a phobia of doctors and robots.

Name:

Ryan Rolands

Nickname(s):

None, that he knows of.

Age:

33

Gender:

Male

Sexuality:

Technically bisexual, but he has only rarely dated outside of men.

Date-of-Birth:

December 22nd

Nationality:

Native-American/Caucasian mixed, born in the United States.

Appearance:

High cheekbones, dark eyes, a rigid stance, and six-feet-and-six-inches worth of height paints Rolands a more imposing portrait than he wants. 

He has been called "imperial," but that is as much for his cliche clothes: if he isn't forced into a uniform, Rolands dresses always in dark suits, he polishes his shoes, he yanks his hair into a tight ponytail, and he spends his wages on unadorned golden rings. His fingernails are even self-manicured, but thankfully not painted.

Personality:

Ryan Rolands is a filing cabinet in a suit. 

He is organized and calm, collected as a computer, and formal to a fault, but un-engaging in idle conversation. Those energetic "up-and-coming" recruits are typically bored by the Second-in-Command. Perhaps sensing this, he's a little harder on them than he should be.

Ryan is a very "gray" man. If you smile to him, he'll of course meet you back a with polite nod, but he won't return your smile. He is not rude or stand-offish, but neither is he social or extroverted; he is not a cold man, but he is far from warm. Rolands is neutral. The only personality traits of his that stand out are his deep loyalty, his love for simple jewelry, and his unshakable work ethic.

Knowing how lax the Captain is, Ryan tries to use what limited authority he has to instill a tighter attitude on his crewmates, wherever he can do so without over-stepping the bounds. Still, he is loyal to his position. He is simply too formal and too dutiful to ever disrespect or second-guess the Captain. If asked, he'll answer that his role on the ship is to work with Di Liberto to help him keep the Condor running smoothly, and for the most part, that's exactly what Ryan does.

He's tried joking and jesting with the crew, like his Captain, but the Fates gave Rolands a sporadic sense of humor and a plastic smile.

Position on The Condor:

Second-in-Command

Skills:

Motivated- 
Rolands can be compared to a perpetual motion machine. He works late into the night and starts again early in the morning. On a good day, that motivation rubs off on his co-workers.

Organized-
A perfect memory and an obsessive eye drive the Second-in-Command to take on most of the ships secretarial and organizational roles.

Years on The Condor:

Five years- soon to be six.

Other:

He prefers surnames, or at least proper first names. He has never called Captain Marino Di Liberto anything other than Captain Marino Di Liberto.

Surprise! I scrapped my engineer character and went in a very different direction.

Since we had no Second-in-Command yet, I figured I'd make a character for that role. I tried my best to make my character an interesting fit 

Name:

Ryan Rolands

Nickname(s):

None, that he knows of.

Age:

33

Gender:

Male

Sexuality:

Technically bisexual, but he has only rarely dated outside of men.

Date-of-Birth:

December 22nd

Nationality:

Native-American/Caucasian mixed, born in the United States.

Appearance:

High cheekbones, dark eyes, a rigid stance, and six-feet-and-six-inches worth of height paints Rolands a more imposing portrait than he wants. 

He has been called "imperial," but that is as much for his cliche clothes: if he isn't forced into a uniform, Rolands dresses always in dark suits, he polishes his shoes, he yanks his hair into a tight ponytail, and he spends his wages on unadorned golden rings. His fingernails are even self-manicured, but thankfully not painted.

Personality:

Ryan Rolands is a filing cabinet in a suit. 

He is organized and calm, collected as a computer, and formal to a fault, but un-engaging in idle conversation. Those energetic "up-and-coming" recruits are typically bored by the Second-in-Command. Perhaps sensing this, he's a little harder on them than he should be.

Ryan is a very "gray" man. If you smile to him, he'll of course meet you back a with polite nod, but he won't return your smile. He is not rude or stand-offish, but neither is he social or extroverted; he is not a cold man, but he is far from warm. Rolands is neutral. The only personality traits of his that stand out are his deep loyalty, his love for simple jewelry, and his unshakable work ethic.

Knowing how lax the Captain is, Ryan tries to use what limited authority he has to instill a tighter attitude on his crewmates, wherever he can do so without over-stepping the bounds. Still, he is loyal to his position. He is simply too formal and too dutiful to ever disrespect or second-guess the Captain. If asked, he'll answer that his role on the ship is to work with Di Liberto to help him keep the Condor running smoothly, and for the most part, that's exactly what Ryan does.

He's tried joking and jesting with the crew, like his Captain, but the Fates gave Rolands a sporadic sense of humor and a plastic smile.

Position on The Condor:

Second-in-Command

Skills:

Motivated- 
Rolands can be compared to a perpetual motion machine. He works late into the night and starts again early in the morning. On a good day, that motivation rubs off on his co-workers.

Organized-
A perfect memory and an obsessive eye drive the Second-in-Command to take on most of the ships secretarial and organizational roles.

Years on The Condor:

Five years- soon to be six.

Other:

He prefers surnames, or at least proper first names. He has never called Captain Marino Di Liberto anything other than Captain Marino Di Liberto.

I wrote this mildly drunk at 2 AM, so any criticisms or suggestions for improvement are very welcome

Tortoise Member

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