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Topics - Minion
I'd like a little more information on the reason as to why your character is in the Penal colony, Being a Genotype is a start but not enough.
Working on it, I like to put a lot of thought into my characters.
*sorry if I didn't put this in the right place*
Build (Height/Weight): 5'4" 137 lbs
Distinguishing Marks: Several scars and stitches across his entire body from self experimentation. The most notable though is a brand on the back of his neck that looks to be of floran design.
Cybernetics/Replaced parts(If Any): None
Physical Description: He looks extremely scrawny, maybe even malnourished. He stands with a slight slouch, shoulders drooping down and constantly fiddles with his hands or an object in his hands as he looks around though extremely baggy eyes. He usually has an expressionless face while he looks around and offers a quick smile to whoever may meet eyes with his before continuing looking around.
Personality: Erratic. Could be your best friend one minute and the next he could swear a death so terrible that your ancestors will suffer too. Then go back to being your best friend like nothing happened. Brutally honest, so think twice before you ask his opinion, you might not want to hear it.
Character Traits: extremely flexible, quick reflexes and above average perception.
Character Flaws: lacks social etiquette, rude, below average physical strength and takes frequent cat naps *standing up*
Quirks: tends to offer chances to guests to try mystery shots *don't accept*
Contacts/Friends: none yet
Enemies: none yet
Final Will & Testament. None yet.
Former Career(If Any): Bio-engineer/doctor
Basic Skills: firearms, civilian vehicles operation.
Advanced Skills: Swordsmanship, Medical skills and Electronics.
Lacking Skills: Mechanical upkeep/repair, metal working, equipment upkeep and lying
How/Why you were brought aboard the U.M.S.C Retribution Prison Barge: "The idiots accused me of seeking to aid the florans. I just wanted to make it so crops can grow with less. However I guess I shouldn't have done it on a floran planet and accidentally gave birth to florazilla."
Background: He was born in a distant colony that was fairly hostile. The colonists had trouble farming for food and he had to learn to live with less *a habit he never got out of*. As if life decided things weren't hard enough for the colonists, florans showed up and enslaved the colony. The larger and older colonists were first to disappear, probably eaten and the younger scrawny ones were raised like livestock. The florans weren't content with just having food, they made him and the other human cattle fight in an arena for their lives. He eventually rose to be their arena "champion" and from this he learned to use a light sword. *like a rapier/sabre* He was the last survivor from that generation before the avians came in and managed to drive the florans to the end of the planet. He was brought before some avian temple and then let go, still doesn't know what that was about. Probably some sort of judgment thing but he was allowed to leave the planet. On his way he was intercepted by apex spouting something about Vestigi-Evo Process. He was held in a cell but they accidentally left some research notes that he understood enough to modify some info in it. This caught the apexes attention and they decided to educate him some to see if he would better serve as a scientist rather than an experiment. Their hunch proved right as he proved to be naturally gifted with understanding the art of bio-engineering and furthered his education with everything they knew to see if he could further advance their race. From this he learned the best medical skills the apex had to offer and electronic skills to use their equipment. A year of experimenting later he accidentally turned a floran giant, which destroyed the apex facility he was in and was intercepted by a human patrol. An awkward dialog later he was detained and thrown in prison for knowing just a "little" too much. Normally someone with this knowledge should be executed but the humans were eager to weaponize what he may know.
(just sort of drew things out of a hat to decide his path.)
Race: Undead Wingly
Hair Colour: none
Age: Evidence suggests from the 3rd age: Age of the Gods
Favored weapon: unknown
Secondary Weapon: unknown
Class: Dead guy who is still alive *thanks for the idea Tas*
Basic literacy: Y
Magic literacy: Y
Holy literacy: Y *read only*
Demonic literacy: Y *read only*
Old language: Y
Husk: N *knows of it but never had a chance to properly learn it*
Weapons: Ranged/ magic
Items: small light gadgets
Weapons: All melee
Armor: a few light armor, all heavy armor
Items: large bulky/heavy items
((1-5, 5 is amazing, 1 is shit.))
Strength matters whether he can open a jar of pickles, or whether he cannot lift a pebble.
Dexterity means whether he is a rabbit running from a fox, or a slug sliding uphill.
Constitution means whether he is a walking hospital, or a soldier with hundreds of arrows stuck in him.
Intelligence is whether he can solve many math problems at once, or whether he spends hours solving 1+1.
Perception depends if he can fire a broken musket and kill a man 400 miles away without even aiming, or whether he can shoot himself when he aims Correctly
Depends if he can lure a women in his bedroom, or if he can get in prison for sexual assault.
Depends if he can catch a ball at light speed, or he can't see slime sneaking up on him.
Depends if he can stop staring at a succubus, or if he cannot stop smoking for a minute.
Weak- Incapable of using anything that involves swinging
Brittle- The simplest attacks will break the body apart
slow- Incapable of moving very fast or reacting quickly
uncharming- seriously, who wants to talk to a mummified dead guy
Lich- If the item his soul is bound to is destroyed, he could die. It could be used in enlisting his services *or might just choose death*
Holy- Holy hurts like hell.
Undead- Capable of shrugging off even the harshest of physical attacks. Can usually pick up pieces cut off and reattach.
Wingly- Bones are made of a light weight substance and is hollow to allow flight *race's flight trait long lost*
Lich- Bound to an item allowing for near immortality
Free will- Mind control/illusion spells have little to no effect on undead.
Honorable- Will do what ever he says he will do or die trying again and again and again and again and again and again...you get the idea
Jail breaker- Unless its a solid wall and door, he can just pick himself apart and reassemble himself outside the cell
Unholy- Unholy feels like heaven
Backstory: To truly know who and where Dante comes from, you will have to look into the lost history of the Winglies. The Winglies were once the masters of the world, watching over the realm of the mortals from grand flying continents known as sky carriages. The Winglies were considered to be the most advanced/powerful race in terms of magic simply because they could levitate themselves and the sky carriages with magical wings, hence the name Wingly. The winglies would often go to the lands below to maintain balance by modifying and destroying entire species as they saw fit. Their troubles did not start until a Wingly seeker *patrol* returned with a strange creature in his hands. It was but a lowly worm, so weak and defenseless that they knew they had to do something to ensure its survival. Some proposed that it be given spikes and a jaw so that it may tear what ever may threaten it. Others proposed that it be given impenetrable armor so that no creature could eat it. The rest agreed that it should be removed flat out. Such difference in opinions was so unheard of among the Winglies, they themselves didn't know what to do except return to their base instincts. Violence. A civil war waged for some hundred years, kingdoms fell and thousands of Winglies lost their lives. What ended the war however wasn't a victor but a lesson. The Winglies had discovered that while their war destroyed most of the known world and creatures, the worm still lived on as it were. It had never needed their help. To the winglies this made them question their ways and swore off the use of magic. Many turned to live among the humans, learning the normal mortal trades. It is rumored that the Winglies still live among humans but have lost touch with their ancient ways. The only thing that still stands out is their average 300 year lifespan.
Dante was born into a trade caravan consisting of 8 merchants including his parents. His father was a Wingly named Sieg and his mother was a human female named Mya. He was homeschooled within the caravan by the book vendor Zeek. Taught to fight by the weapons vendor Allek and the caravan guard Evan. Dante was also given lessons in alchemy and magic by Y'valda and Merlin. The last two merchants, Gully and Sully, taught Dante the art of cooking and discovering ingredients to cook with. Eventually Dante came to be a teen and naturally his curiosity of the world grew. He set out from the caravan to seek his own fortune and adventure picking up the art of brewing ale and other drinks from a nice fat man named Pauly. Word came to his ears that a new land was discovered and a new kingdom was developing so he went thinking he would be appreciated as a well rounded tradesman/trader. Unfortunately he never did reach the new land because his ship rolled over in a storm and put him in a newer land, Caphori. Here he eventually settled as a brewer and despite the many catastrophic world-ending events that happened there, he made his fortune. Eventually Dante died of natural causes and was buried where his first brewery was.
Several thousand years later Dante answers a call beckoning him from the afterlife. He opens his eyes not only to find that theres dirt all around him, but he has no eyes. He goes to breath and of course his mouth is filled with dirt. Struggling to find his way out of where ever he was he starts moving about until he broke free from his dirt prison. Only to end up falling some distance down and land hard on his stomach. Surprisingly to him it didn't hurt at all and he recollects his senses. Looking around he sees a faint light a little above to his left. He starts fumbling around the dark feeling his way to the only source of light he can see and eventually reaches it. He takes a quick glace around outside only to see that he is indeed dead as he thought he was and that the Caphori he once knew was no longer there. Just red...fuck tons of red, red up here, red down there, red, red, red. He hated the color red, nothing good comes from red. If you actually read down this far I think you deserve some sort of reward. Hmmm what shall I give you...idk Ill decide in game and ooc. Perhaps I should make it so you have to tell me a password so I can be certain you read all of this. How about perrywinkle, no wait bizzlebop. Never mind I think Ill make it aloicious jahosaphat. Nah I think Ill do all three of the suggested passwords, yeah that's it. First three to say all 3 passwords in one post gets some sort of in game prize. see you there.
Sorry if the back story is clichéd or boring, I was just pulling whatever I had out of my arse.
ɛʏɛ cσℓσя: ɢяɛʏ
нαιя cσℓσя: ωнιтɛ ωιтн ɢяɛʏ ƨтяɛακƨ
note: I find it a little wierd that information is readily available and I feel that it should appear as it becomes known.
Yesterday was quite a discovery for me, despite the injury from a chaos elemental. I never thought that I would find anything that belonged to the precursers here...I must clear out all the rubble and begin restoring it at once, all while being careful not to change it.
*any one reading immediately notices the several marks and colors. The log is written as if for quick search and reference*
With recent events, I've finally convinced myself to start writing down my experiences. Not too long ago a bloodmane took my blood and also tried to make me a servant, nearly succeeded. Now the beast is gone, only after turning into a deathmane, grayzar returned and cast it back to what ever forsaken place it came from, but not without something for me to remember it by. When it took my blood, I recieved its dna through a bite...winglies will often mutate their own genetics to adapt and make what ever strength it possesses their own. Now I can emit my own bloodaura and have a constant desire to chew on my butt...the worst part is, I hear that....no I can feel that more are coming and are already here, ugh I wouldnt care to take on much more of their genetics. Might be time to put up a wingly chaste ward, not only will they be forced to turn human while near my brewery, anyone inside will not have any evil thoughts, lest they end up in constant pain. To best describe it, being turned inside out, dipped in burning metal, turn right-side out and repeat.....also note to self, return favor to that Zubael guy.