[CS] Retaliation: Character Sheets (Post Once Accepted)

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Poetic Ghost
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[CS] Retaliation: Character Sheets (Post Once Accepted)

Post by Poetic Ghost » Fri Sep 08, 2017 7:11 am

- Character Sheet -
(Character image, if added, may go here.)

Name: Not too hard.

Gender: It's the 32nd century, there are a few options.

Age: The Human aging process has been slowed slightly, adding on a few decades.

Race: Are you a good old Human? Or maybe something stranger...

Homeworld: Where were you born, kiddo? Earth is dead.

Skills: What can you do? Also, at least skim your fellow RPers character sheet before writing yours. It helps to avoid characters being too similar, and spreads diversity.

Equipment: What are you packing? Guns, tools, swords, explosives, armour. That sorta thing...

Personality: This is Advanced, I expect a bit more than a list of conflicting personality traits. At least a good chunky paragraph here.

Appearance: What do you look like? Feel free to use an image, but be prepared to have something along with it, it helps to build the character.

Biography: Where were they born? What was high school like? This stuff helps build great characters. This isn't a measuring contest, but I would like a good bit of writing in here.

Origins: Here is where you give us a taste of your character and what they are like. Write whatever you want, but your character is the main point of this section.

Theme: What music plays when your character does something cool, or has a super emotional scene?

-- AWV Sheet --

Name: Could be anything. You could even call it poop (please someone name it that i will be your friend)

Role in Combat: What does it do when it gets to fighting? Does it stay back and support it's fellow fighters? Or rush ahead?

Weapons: Weapons are seriously advanced in this millennia. Lasers, plasma, rail guns, gauss cannons. But good old fashion bullets are still the leading cause of death in this galaxy.

Mech Origins: How did you get this hunk of junk?

Appearance: What does it look like? Feel free to use art, but please give something of a description.

Other Features: Apart from basics, does it have any extra hardware (or software) onboard?
Last edited by Poetic Ghost on Fri Sep 08, 2017 11:33 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: [CS] Retaliation: Character Sheets (Read Only)

Post by Poetic Ghost » Fri Sep 08, 2017 7:26 am

Character Sheet


Name: "Captain Hale Amarok, at your service."

Gender: Male

Age: 47 Human years

Race: Lupine, a race of Canine humanoids. The heavily resemble the (now extinct) canis lupis of Old Earth, except their fur comes in a wide variety of colours, from stark white to bright blue. They do possess claws, but it is seen as savage to use them as weapons.

Homeworld: Lupis, homeworld of the Lupine species.

Hale is an ex-career soldier, and has a collection of skills necessary for any soldier to excel. He is a capable leader and strategist, leading teams of soldiers to victory against amazing odds. Hale is also extremely skilled with using a handgun and hand-to-hand combat.

Beneath his long coat, Hale wears a lightweight bulletproof vest. Over top, he has reinforced armor plates over his uniform (as seen above) Hale's weapon of choice is a Remus Mk8 50. caliber Heavy Revolver, which can be chambered in a variety of ammunition types. He also owns a converted space freighter called the White Fang. This ship fully converted for illegal activities like out-running Hub Authorities, sneaking through Imperial blockades, smuggling supplies, or making a quick getaway. This ship is also fully loaded with an armoury onboard.

Personality: Hale's Imperial bounty marks him as a "sociopath with a Robin-Hood facade..." that's pretty accurate. Hale respects order and law, but when the system tries to stomp him and impede his freedom, he'll be the first one to take up arms.

On a more personal level, Hale's renegade personality does not get in the way of his care and protective nature for his crew and friends. He would never throw one of his own under the ship. But if he or his friends are betrayed, he won't hesitate to slit their throat before they can even try to explain.

Appearance: Hale stands at 6'8, and is well built for a Lupine. His snow white fur is rough and straw-like where he has been burned during the Voxis War. Hale is usually clad in his Lupine Navy uniform, with combat plating and hardened Kevlar padding for defence.

Hale doesn't let on much about himself. Judging from his uniform and combat skills, he was once a high-ranking officer in the Lupine Navy, and will sometimes talk about the Voxis War if he's had too much to drink. He almost always has a friend nearby, no matter how deep into space he is. Hale is a mystery, and his reasons for being so secretive are even more so.

(I will add to this once the story progresses far enough.)

Origins: See Retaliation Prologue.


-- Mech Sheet --


Name: The Alpha

Role in Combat: The Alpha takes a leadership role on the battlefield, leading the charge into a fight, or cordinating a counterattack.

Weapons: The main weapon of The Alpha is a 30mm Rotary Gun of a custom Hamada design. The suit itself is equipped with a Hamada Arms Laser Lance, which is mounted on the shoulder of the vehicle. The weaponary of The Alpha can exchange weaponary with most other AMV weapon systems.

Mech Origins: Customed designed by his close friend, Hadrian Hamada. Gifted as a token of respect after Hale saved Hamada's life during the Voxis Wars.

Appearance: The Alpha is thirty feet tall, and shines with a hotrod red and cobalt blue colour scheme. The Mech shows little damage, but it has certainly be tested in battle.

Other Features: The Alpha features an advanced battlefield evaluation software, feeding Hale information on every aspect for the battle as he orders his team.
Last edited by Poetic Ghost on Mon Oct 16, 2017 5:47 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: [CS] Retaliation: Character Sheets (Post Once Accepted)

Post by Annasiel » Wed Sep 13, 2017 4:10 pm

- Character Sheet - (WIP)


Name: Chellis, if it pleases.

Gender: She prefers female.

Age: 31

Race: Of the empathic and diminutive Silwin.

Homeworld: Born to Alphagor D7, but relocated to Frei for medical work.

Skills: Chellis is able to sense the emotional states of those around her, as with the rest of her race, and can strengthen this ability through contact with the target. In addition, she is a combat medic with five years of field experience under her belt, holding doctor-level skills in xenophysiology. Though her greatest strengths lie in treating humanoid physiologies, she has workable practical knowledge for a good number of other common races, and is quick to learn necessary procedures for those she has not seen before. She's also a decent pilot, though far from being considered an ace, and falls terribly short when it comes to the technical side.


She carries the following in a purse-sized bag at her hip.
  • A standard first-aid kit, containing
    • 1 absorbent compress (45 sq.in),
    • 10 tubes of antibiotic creme (1/32 oz),
    • 10 ethanol-based antiseptic towlettes (5 x 7"),
    • 6 tubes of burn creme (1/32 oz),
    • 5 fabric fingertip bandages,
    • 5 fabric knuckle bandages,
    • 1 roll of first-aid tape (1/2" x 5 yd),
    • 1 pair of forceps (4"),
    • 4 gauze pads (3 x 3"),
    • 1 gauze roll (2" x 6 yd),
    • 3 instant ice packs (5 x 7"),
    • 2 pairs of nitrile gloves (small, hexedigit),
    • 16 plastic adhesive bandages (1 x 3"),
    • 1 pair of scissors (4"),
    • 1 sting neutralizing wipe (1 x 2"),
    • 1 triangular bandage (40 x 40 x 56").
  • An electric lighter.
  • A small sewing kit.
  • A pocket flashlight.
  • A rechargeable low-energy pulse gun (wireless taser).
  • A notebook and pen.
The following are stored in a duffel inside Engel.
  • Refills equivalent to five additional first-aid kits.
  • An incomplete set of operating tools, containing
    • 1 titanium scalpel (3"),
    • 1 titanium scalpel (1"),
    • 1 titanium scalpel (1/2"),
    • 10 vessel clamps,
    • 1 pair of surgical scissors (3"),
    • 1 bone chisel (4"),
    • 1 pair of bone cutters,
    • 1 pair of dissecting forceps (4"),
    • 1 pair of surgical forceps (4"),
    • 1 needle clasper (5"),
    • 10 tissue retrators.
  • 1 tarp (10 ft x 5 ft).
  • A rechargeable cautery.
  • A rechargeable bone drill (with anchors and clamps).
  • 10 adjustable aluminum splints.
  • Various antibiotics.
  • Various painkillers.
  • 1 box of 200 nitrile gloves (small, hexedigit).

Myers-Briggs - ISFJ
Enneagram - 2w1

By her expressions, Chellis isn't the type of person you'd expect to be compassionate. She favors a flat, watchful stare that sometimes almost seems curious, but more often than not is devoid of any indicators. However, as soon as she opens her mouth, her warm, congenial tone betrays the cold exterior. She is a friendly individual, brimming with "how are you"s and "tell me more"s, though she will quickly shy away from conversation if the chance is given. Socializing, for her, is an uncomfortable spotlight. She prefers to work behind the scenes, helping others in ways that don't bring embarrassing praise. She handles stress relatively well, and is able to think quickly under pressure, though she will easily take mistakes to heart. Too much failure, preventable or otherwise, will begin to drain her.


4'11, with the grey skin and hair typical to her species. Her eyes are fully black, deep enough to dull most reflections, and lined with thick lashes. She has full lips that rest in a contemplative pout, which only adds to the impression that she's constantly studying you. She has a very slight build, weighing in at a minuscule 91 lbs, though has a slight tone in her arms due to her work. Her face and expressions seldom mix, contrasted sharply by her animated, often cheerful way of speaking.


If anyone working at the Life in Breath clinic was asked to describe it in three words, they’d almost always say the same thing: Overworked, overlooked, and underpaid. It was a bit of a motto among them, made barbed by the bitter euphemism it really was. Overworked? Try 16 hour shifts with only coffee and low-def satellite television to keep company. Overlooked? In the five years they’d operated on Lei, they’d received more opposition than thanks. And underpaid? They were rewarded only in “the satisfaction of helping your fellow beings” and the odd, warm goo that came out of the cafeteria. Chellis didn’t envy her coworkers who actually needed to consume that biowaste, and on the few times she got kitchen duty, she made well sure to double up on gloves. Still, it was a good place to be, as far as the Silwin medic saw it. She was doing what she loved. Nothing else beat the euphoric rush when a wounded soldier felt hope, or the love-tinged relief of a separated family reuniting. There was a good deal of pain in this terrible place, but she was doing her best to relieve it. Besides, it was exciting. Every day was unique, and no matter how long she stayed, she was always surprised by what could walk through her office door.

Case in point when a imposingly tall, Lupine male with fur as white as snow came in without any warning whatsoever. As he entered, she immediately went on edge, wound with the effort of… something. He was almost imperceptible, and though his face showed no signs of any stress or strain, she could tell there was a faint feeling of tension. She stared blankly at him for an uncomfortably long period of time before he finally moved.

Under what appeared to be minor duress, the Lupine held out his hand, and Chell wrapped her own cold fingers around it. They shook for almost as long as the silence had lasted, and once again, the levels of unease rose dramatically.

"Amarok, Hale Captain... that's me..." The captain, if he was as he said, released her hand and seemed to regain some composure. "So, just, start at the beginning. Ms... uh, Mr? Um... Chellis. I'm looking for people with certain... skills, and so far from what I've heard, you're pretty good at patching people up. You Silwin are known empaths, too. Point is, I really want your help. You'd be able to kick some ass, see the galaxy, and show the Empire who was here first... what do you say?"

What he was asking was nothing short of lunacy. Kicking ass? What did he think she was, a Gollek in row? If she wasn’t so surprised, she might have been driven to indignance. Here she was, wasting the prime years of her life giving aid to Imperials and insurgents alike, and he had the gall to ask if she was willing to throw half of that toil away?

Thomas. Eliza. Solyer.

The names poked at the back of her mind like a needle, and for a moment, her blank face wrinkled in weary vexation.

“I’m going to have to turn down your offer, Captain Hale,” she replied, a tad more dryly than she wanted to. She felt the inklings of a headache coming on, and most certainly did not need this kind of stress weighing her down.

"No? What do you mean no?" Hale chuckled. He was overpoweringly nervous now. "B-but, you're one of the best medics in this sector! I thought you-" Hale turned back to Chellis and took a deep breath. "Fine, I get it, you've got it good here. Just remember, you can hide back behind this blockade, and just pretend it won't touch you... Look, no hard feelings, I just..." Hale's words trailed off. After a moment, he grabbed his hat from the table and turned to walk out the door.

"If you change your mind, I'm in Dock 8... better make up your mind fast, they'll figure out my ID number is false by tomorrow… If I'm lucky."

And with that, the Lupine left, leaving behind only the dwindling apprehension and Chell’s pacing heart. She didn’t even realize she was so nervous until now. Why should she be? Though terrifying at first glance, he didn’t seem too threatening, and the conversation was over too quick for anyone to think she was collaborating with a rebel.

Not if they learned about the alleyway. Not if they knew what you did. Thomas. Eliza. Solyer. You didn’t even know his name, but you know theirs. You know theirs because of the choices you made.

A thick lump of frigid lead formed in Chell’s throat, and she massaged at it worryingly. There was no way anyone knew unless the three told, and they didn’t know her name, only her face. Though on a planet with only three Silwin, that was damning enough. She rose from her chair, surprised by how unsteady her legs were, and left from her office.

You’re already on the path, you know. It isn’t like you’d be changing that by turning this offer down. You’re going down this road, whether you want to or not.

She had already cast her lots in with this Hale, even if she didn’t know Hale when she had. She froze in her steps. Hale had known her. That had implications, implications she hadn’t even considered. If Hale knew her by name, who else on the rebels’ side did? If her name was connected with them in any way, how would the Empire see that? What would the Empire do to a known contact, someone an insurgent leader knew where to find, what to call?

Whether it was the lack of sleep or residue from the tension, the jumps her logic made were breathtaking. With her name and location already in rebel hands, with reason for the Empire to gun her down as a revolutionary, her only course of action was to go after this Hale.

You can hide back behind this blockade, and just pretend it won't touch you, he had said.

Without a second to lose, she grabbed her field kit and ran off to the side bay, where a fully supplied Engel was sure to be waiting. It was always stocked in case they needed to go on an emergency run.

Thomas. Eliza. Solyer.

If they gave her up… she would forgive them. She didn’t have the heart to hate them, not after what she had seen. Still, she would miss this place. In the place she was, though, she did it more harm than good. That’s what she told herself as she checked the dropship’s diagnostics, as she routinely leafed through the duffel in side storage, as she clambered up into the cockpit. That’s what she told herself to keep her conscience clean.


The ship whirred through the air, flying low over the launch docks. Ion thrusters hummed with the low purr of a pleasured feline as it descended, moving closer and closer, its pilot straining to make out the dock numbers through the smoke of burning engines. Was that...

“Eight!” she unintentionally shouted, almost missing a crane loading cargo on a nearby freighter. Pulling hard left on the joystick, the ship spiralled, and the giant vessel sitting in dock eight loomed closer and closer through her front shield. Joints locked, she narrowly missed the top of the behemoth’s open bay, a trail of sparks lighting the air behind her as she slowed to a stop. Hands shaking, she unlatched the cockpit door, and slid out onto the floor.

"Nice ship, cowgirl." The Lupine was watching her from a safe distance away. "Kinda dinged up my hanger, though..."

Before she could stop herself, a deep laugh broke from Chell’s mouth, refusing to stop until it left her gasping for air. She was a criminal now. A rebel against one of the most imposing military forces in the galaxy. And for some odd reason, she didn’t mind.


"You realize this is a terrible idea, right?" The man crossed his arms, face stern. "This isn't like what you learned back at the academy. You're going to be dealing with a literal warzone, with injuries you can't help, not to mention the stress..."

"I know." Chell sat rigidly in a metal chair across from him, her hands folded plainly on his desk.

"You're one of our brightest students. If you continued with your studies here, you'd certainly be able to serve at a higher profile hospital. Maybe United Ascendancy? It has a study program that lets you attend classes while interning."

"I know," Chell repeated. "You've told me before. I understand you want to talk me out of this. It won't happen."

The man sighed, clearly disappointed, but nodded in weary resignation. "You just have to get your way, don't you?"

It wasn't a matter of getting her way. It wasn't a product of selfish intent, or of short-sighted stubborness. There was a hidden hierarchy among the graduate students of Alphegor Medical Academy. The administration would deny it, but it showed in the opportunities offered, in the careers suggested. The students who excelled were sent to big, cushy hospitals and specialized clinics, lofty places where patients seldom suffered. It was the reward for hard work, in a way, if one could consider long hours sucking fat out of rich off-worlders rewarding.

"You have to sign here," the man continued, sliding a sheet of paper across the desk.

Breath in Life, the title read. An altruistic effort built on the failures of the less fortunate. Surviving solely on the charity of others, surviving only because people thought it was something noble.

Instead of a dumping ground for the dregs, Chell thought bitterly. Without hesitation, she scrawled her name at the bottom, and pushed the document back.

"I hope you know what you're doing," the man said as he slid the paper into a folder.

"I do," Chell replied. "I'm making a difference."

Theme: Nightwish - "My Walden"

-- Vehicle Sheet --


Name: LGuardian 3, Peacekeeper Class - Produced "Brazen," renamed "Engel."

Role in Combat: Engel is a medically-repurposed crowd suppression vehicle intended largely for civilian use. As such, it doesn't fair particularly well on the battlefront, but shines in a supportive role.

Weapons: Two high-volume air cannons, typical to the LGuardian Peacekeeper models, capable of unbalancing man and machine alike with gale force winds. They require ten seconds to build full pressure before each fire, but they can be shot prior for a less impactful blast. They can operate in full independence from each other, and are able to draw from water sources through a retractable tube in the rear of the vehicle, if desired. In addition, Engel has a disruptive field that can lessen the impact of energy-based attacks, added to counteract illicit laser and plasma technology discharged during riots. The field is electrified, and will discharge into anything conductive that touches them when operative, rendering the field temporarily shorted (and any would-be thieves cooked throughly).

Mech Origins: The LGuardian Peacekeeper used to be a relatively common sight in contested human planets, useful for breaking apart riots and patrolling entrenched streets. However, as some rebel efforts grew in intensity, the local Peacekeeper series tanks were decommissioned in favor of more lethal deterrents. While many of these relics found their way into collector's halls and scrap heaps, this one was donated to Life in Breath, the local neutral-relief organization. They refurbished the casing and updated the interior, but left the crowd control implements intact, to provide protection from both insurgents and Human Empire forces alike.

Appearance: Originally battered from wear, Engel is now fully refurbished and repainted, shining with a white coat devoid of any scratches. Despite being in a war zone, most are adverse to attacking an ambulance, and the few brazen fools that do have their troubles undone by some hammering and buffing. It has two pairs of rotary "arms," one that houses the air cannons and acts as stabilizers, the other directing the force of two conservative ion thrusters. The ship is powered by a capacitor battery core capable of holding a charge for months. Though it is capable of space travel, deep-space is unadvised; the electromagnetic shield, while useful against blaster bullets, merely dampens the effects of celestial radiation, and the ship's ion thrusters don't have near enough force to get you anywhere consequential in time. Still, it readily adapts for orbital entry and re-entry, so can function as a space-to-surface shuttle in a pinch.

Other Features: Two comfortable mesh seats in the cockpit (though theoretically, five could squeeze themselves in) and a stretcher build snugly into the back storage compartment that can hold two more. It also has a side compartment, where Chell stores her duffel.
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Re: [CS] Retaliation: Character Sheets (Post Once Accepted)

Post by Quirbles » Sat Sep 16, 2017 1:25 am

Quirbles wrote:
Fri Sep 15, 2017 6:33 pm

Name: Skriviks, the Dignified

Gender: Skriviks is what many call "male".

Age: Through salvaged, modified or otherwise stolen technology, high-ranking members of the Kavarian society were able to prolong their lifespan for an additional century—in certain cases. Despite the original expectancy of the Kavarian race being just over 200, infighting and warring among tribes following the collapse of their Golden Age resulted in the actual expectancy falling drastically. Those that were lucky, and those who had possessed the right technology would have been able to prolong the aging process past an upwards of 3 centuries.

Skriviks, through his various trials through the unforgiving galaxy, had reaped the rewards of his successful conquest and utilized this technology to extend his life far past his current age, which is 120 years old. Old in the eyes of various races; however, he'd have been a youngling in the view of Kavarian ancients.

Race: Kavarian.

Homeworld: Skriviks hails from the now-uninhabitable, long destroyed planet of Kaavri.

Skriviks' body allows for a faster and wider range of movement, with the ability to mantle and climb most things with ease.

The Kavarian physique is imposing. Intimidating. Lean, but powerful; Skriviks uses this to his advantage. His four arms allows for double the power of most species, and his physiology allows for high endurance.

An eye for what's useful aids any thief--or scavenger. Skriviks' ability to scavenge that which is useful to him has been honed for nearly a century. In addition, the need of constant upkeep for his supplies and equipment has made him a valuable tinkerer for his own things.

In keeping with Kavarian tradition, Skriviks' title is "Dignified" as his integrity refuses to be broken. What he does, he does in honor of his once-prosperous race. He rarely backs down from physical challenges, and his demeanor commands respect. Earn his respect, and you would gain a loyal and valuable ally.

The primary weapon that Skriviks utilizes is a traditional Kavarian heavy weapon. Given his stature, the weapon itself is much heavier and larger than most races could successfully maneuver with and use. The weapon fires in a continuous firing pattern, and has been grafted together using salvage over the many years of use.

For a melee weapon, Skriviks uses a long metal staff with electricity modules on either end. The sole purpose is to deliver a painful electric shock to anyone he hits with it.

A satchel slung around at Skriviks' side contains various trinkets and items within it.

The Nevuli

A rough translation. The Nevuli is an apparatus representing the pinnacle of Kavarian technology. The sphere fits snugly in Skriviks' palm, and the bottom portion of the marble-like device pulses and swirls with murky clouds resembling the structure of a nebulous cloud. The sphere feels cool to the touch and has the texture of smoothed glass, with a glowing, smaller sphere within its center. Unbeknownst to those around him, this small device contains the detailed history of his people. Before the pending destruction of their home planet, small spheres identical to Skriviks' had been loaded with all the information they could about Kaavri. This small sphere is one--if not the only--of its kind in existence. Because of its dire important to him and his people's survival, Skriviks has constructed a metal cover for the sphere for further protection.

Various items of salvage are also contained within the satchel, but the sphere is the only item of note. Skriviks' weapon is frequently slung across his back.

Personality: The Kavarian migrant is a shell of a being, and the mass self-genocide of his peoples has made the load no less harsh upon his mind. Though he had been quite young during the time of the Collapse, the events are still as raw within his conscious since the day he had managed to escape the cursed planet with his kin. And the fire that had consumed his home had only managed to ignite an inferno within him, an inextinguishable sense of hatred and vengeance for his people's destruction. Though he realized that his own race had became their own undoing, he vowed to preserve the legacy of his kind through his own life. He vowed to gain honor through combat, and to return the sense of pride and honor he had so horribly lost.

Despite his hardships, Skriviks is as proud as one could be in his circumstances. He bows to no leader and accepts no defeat. Stubbornness is a prevalent quality among the Kaavri natives, and Skriviks finds no trouble embodying that trait. However, he is especially quiet for such a proud being; whether it be the language barrier [as he understands and speaks English, but not expertly] or his own willingness to hold his tongue. He is complacent, but sharp of wit. Proud, but humble in the presence of those he respects. And there are few who have earned his respect.

Appearance: Skriviks stands at 7'7, an average height for a Kavarian male. His stature is imposing upon those around him, though not intentionally; his outfit and tall stance do the work for him. His skin is a dark silver color, a pigment uncommon among most of his species. He has four arms, both of which possess toned muscle from his years of drifting and the demands that came with it. His eyes, though covered by his helmet, are a deep purple color. A brown jumpsuit covers his body, with gloves and gauntlets covering his lower arms. Lengthened shoulder pads provide protection to his biceps as well as his shoulders. An armored chest-plate covers his midsection, with the plating terminating just under his neck. A furred neck collar travels along the back ridge of the plate to provide comfort. His knees and shins are protected by joint plating, the top of the pads jutting just above the kneecap. Boots cover his feet and end halfway up the shin, their color a deep grey like his skin. The treads offer remote magnetic plating, allowing him to have added grip on surfaces that are compatible.

Skriviks' mask is a mix of Golden Age Kavarian technology and salvage. Though the mask itself is mostly repaired from welded metal and other materials, a majority of the filtration systems and tubes within the helmet are still untouched. The mask acts as a filtering agent to prevent harmful chemicals from inhalation and is able to isolate carbon dioxide from the atmosphere for inhalation. The helmet, in short, makes breathing much easier for Kavarians outside of their native planet, which had carvon dioxide as their abundant gas in the atmosphere.


"The destruction of my people will happen tonight... on the day known among Kavarians as the Eclipse. It is the day the sky itself, falls to Kaavri."
—Taniks the Sharp, shortly before Kaavri's impact with its moon.

Skriviks stood on the cooled magma river, arms crossed as he stared into the muted crimson horizon. His ship sat close behind him, the creaking metal echoing through the land before him. Mountains on either side stood as giants, their stone bodies shielding outside light from shining into the wide gulch. Their attempts were futile, for the sun itself had snuck between the mountains and set itself within the center of the valley. The creaking of metal ceased, and for a moment the world was still.

He tried to picture in his mind what the cities would have looked like. Magnificent marvels of modern technology, towering over the horizon as merchant ships flew to and from the bustling hubs. The glint of the sun as it reflected off the skyscrapers' many windows, with the towers of blue and grey able to be seen for miles and miles around. Kavarians, hundreds of them, walking from marketplace to marketplace and piloting their ships through the metal obstacles jutting forth into the sky. It was beautiful. It was home.

And it was all lost.

The impact of Kaavri's moon, Elikni, had leveled all of the planet's beloved cities. If the shockwave hadn't destroyed most structures, the hellfire, quakes and waves as tall as the towers themselves had erased their existence. Nothing remained but charred earth and deadened sky. And yet he returned. Why? To see for himself, he supposed. His people's undoing was tragic. He had to see it with his own eyes, the result of their hubris and folly.

For trusting humans.

They had come in droves, the parasitic race with their colony ships centuries ago. And with them, they brought the Kavarians' undoing: technology. Precious technology that granted leaps in the race's society, but came at the fatal cost of their resources. For the Kavarians had never known weapons of destruction like those wielded by humans. And as the Trojan Horse was gifted to the people of Troy, the schematics for weapons and terrible instruments of death were given to the Kavarians for their cooperation.

Though evidence of their meddling was suspiciously absent from Kavarian codices, the humans' arrival on Kaavri had been the catalyst for the destruction of Skriviks' people. The Kavarian people had not known the dangers of war, and had never desired to seek it; yet when they found out war's potential, they craved it. The humans had left as quickly as they had arrived, leaving a path of bloodshed and genocide in their wake.

"And so the Kells had turned to fire
Fueled by vengeance and by ire."

Skriviks would never forgive the human race for their hand in his people's undoing. Decades passed, and his heartfelt anger became mollified by experience and age; yet a small inkling of disgust and hatred remained in the back of his mind. Indeed, time heals all wounds, but the scars of the event plague his mind. For years, the event consumed him completely, the rage and desire for revenge clouding his logic and actions; many humans had died at his hand, and yet, no amount of bloodshed would satisfy the pain within his body.

So he forgave.

No amount of innocent deaths would bring his people's legacy back. These people had no part in the Collapse. He felt disgraced. Skriviks had done what the humans had done to his own race; to continue would simply lower him to their moral level. He grew distant from the companions he traveled with, his surviving kin. Eventually, he abandoned them altogether, took the Nevuli and fled to the cold regions of space. Fled amongst the stars, eventually finding himself within Kaavri's orbit. Home. At least, it had been.

Skriviks sighed, turning away from the valley and entering his ship. He'd remain on-planet for a while longer. After all, this was his last visit.


"Excerpt 1 From the Rose"

"Untold Legends"

"I call it 'Kirijna'. Or, in your people's tongue... loyal."

Role in Combat: The role of Skriviks' armored walker is that of intimidation and protection. Its slow-firing cannon is able to rotate a full 360°, and the forward-mounted laser repeater on the front is more than capable of dealing its share of damage. Both cannons are powered by Kavarian batteries, and as a result do not require actual ammunition to fire; rather, it stores charge from solar energy and electricity. Though slow-moving, its rear is heavily armored to protect from flank shots. The supporting legs of the walker also possess abundant protection. This leaves the front visor and sides vulnerable to more damage, however the armor on those areas is still quite a bit.

Weapons: Kirijna possesses a large electric flak cannon on its roof which has 360° horizontal movement and a 45° vertical movement. On the front of the walker is a laser-repeater. Both are powered by a rear-mounted Kavarian battery core, which draws heat, solar energy, and electricity from the outside of the walker in order to sustain power. Each leg of the walker is equipped with a seismic piston, making each of the walker's steps deadly within a radius when activated. These steps can be charged and slammed into the earth, sending out shockwaves.

Mech Origins: Skriviks has used the ancient Kavarian walker for as long as he could remember. It had seen him through many fights, and the Kavarian trusts his life with the machine. Although certain parts of the inner workings of Kirijna had begun to fall into disrepair, Skriviks has kept it in near-peak performance with salvage addons and repairs.

Appearance: The walker, although appearing large, was originally designed to have 1 soldier within it at a time. As such, the cockpit seats one person; two if they are not a Kavarian. The walker itself is around the size of a large truck, with each of its 6 legs adding about 4 feet in height. The exterior is a gunmetal grey, with Kavarian insignias painted on either side of the cabin. The front of the walker contains an opaque visor which allows the pilot to see out of the walker, yet restricts the view from the outside.

Other Features: The bottom of each foot of the walker contains a powerful thruster. This allows the walker to achieve short-distance flight for a limited time.

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Poetic Ghost
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Re: [CS] Retaliation: Character Sheets (Post Once Accepted)

Post by Poetic Ghost » Mon Sep 18, 2017 8:51 pm

Poetic Ghost wrote:
Sun Sep 10, 2017 5:18 am

- Character Sheet -

"Hey, Hadrian... yeah, it's Hale. Listen, I've got a guy who wants to help... I know it's my decision, but I just wanted to tell you-... no, it's just... well..."

"He's a pacifist..."


Name: Anden Vasari

Gender: Male

Age: 30

Race: Human Variant, Humanity has been in the Aurelius Galaxy long enough to introduce the genes of new species. Not everyone approves of it, but The Hub encourages the mixture of genes to support all races. Anden has a little bit of various races sprinkled throughout his being.

Homeworld: Algolis, a group-race colony that was once part of the Unified Human Governments - which was forcefully absorbed into The Empire - until it became self-governing.

Anden is skilled in the art of diplomacy and peace-talking, with his soothing voice and calm demeanour, he usually talks his way out of confrontations. However, he is not known to be an exceptional liar, or silver tongue. He is a diplomat, and sees the best solution to be the one with the least bloodshed where both sides get some of what they want. During his time with the Shakespeares he trained in the art of self-defence and is quite skilled in the fighting forms of the female-warrior Quortha race. He was also given training to drive heavy equipment like walkers and ships, though he is most comfortable behind simple loaders. He can use firearms, though he is interested in energy weapons, however he does not own any due to his pacifistic views, though he does own one laser pistol.

Anden doesn't carry a gun on his person at all times. He believes; "You can't make friends with a man if he knows you've got heat in your pocket... that sounded weird." Regardless, Anden still owns a laser pistol which he was gifted from his mentor in the Followers of The New Age. He doesn't have much for armour or equipment, but he does have a few changes of clothes and his personal effects.


Myers-Briggs - ENFJ
Enneagram - The Peacemaker

Anden is an optimistic individual, with a very open mind. He will never shy away from introducing himself or engaging in friendly conversation. However, sometimes his diplomatic front can fade away, and he seeks solitude. Occasionally, he'll stow away behind a door and "meditate", although all he really does is sit cross legged and clear his thoughts, no real mystism occurs. A large feature of his personality, is his view on the destruction of sentient life. He believes that the killing of any intelligent life is wasteful, and every person, regardless of race, gender, age, or intellect, is valuable. He began to feel this way after losing both of his parents in the Voxis War, and seeing all the death that could have been avoided by approaching the situation from a diplomatic angle, or at least developing a plan of engaging the Voxis from space solely, rather than allowing them to invade the outer colonies. Just because he refuses to take a sentient life, that doesn't mean he won't defend himself or others from danger.

Anden identifies as Pansexual, keeping an open mind the thousands of different races and individuals in Aurelius. He first discovered this part of himself during highschool, when he was arrested during a cross-species rally, and as an act of rebellion, he kissed a male Quortha before he was sprayed in the face with deterrence foam and was arrested. Anden believes that by working with Amarok to fight the Empire, he can try to find a diplomatic solution to the war. Anden has agreed to work with Amarok in an attempt to make a difference in the war without having to kill anyone.

Anden is about six feet tall, 135lbs, with broad shoulders and a slight muscular build from his morning fitness routine. Anden is rarely seen without his glasses, and likes how they make him look more calculating and intelligent. His eyes are a deep blue, a trait enheirited from a near-human ancestor two generations back. He doesn't like having short hair, but won't grow it past his chin, and only pulls it back when working on Turtle. His signature outfit is his Shakespierre jacket over a waist coat, collared shirt, with dress pants and shoes.

Anden would rather leave his childhood stories behind him, as most are very embarrassing and mundane. Both of Anden's parents worked for the United Human Governments on Algolis, one of the UHG's peace-colonies. Algolis was shared with over thirty other races, including Quortha, Formics, and many others. After only a decade of colonization, it became a melting pot of alien races and hybrids. Jang Vasari was one of the first to cross-breed, and chose to marry a Raki female named Syyra D'co. His daughter, Janice, chose to marry another half-Human name named Hakim T'Harta, the son of a Duran and Human. With enough Human genes, their son, Anden Vasari, was born looking almost exactly like the pure-blooded Humans of Old-Earth, but he did hold a few notable Raki and Duran features. Such as his eye and hair colour.

It seemed that Anden was a boy, he showed interest in helping others, he was involved with the Algolis Scouts, a new-age Boy Scouts that gave skills of different sorts to children of all gender and race. As a teenager, he joined all public-awareness groups and debate clubs. His parents saw a future senator in him, but he felt otherwise. He saw the current government as imperfect, and in need of outside help. From his point of view, becoming a politician would only lead to more of the same problems. Obviously, his parents disagreed.

As a teenager, he had fits of rebellion. He befriended a number of like-minded individuals and took to changing his appearance to distance himself from other Pro-Humans. He would dye and change his hair style on a whim, and had several tattoos. Something that still exists on his UHG profile, is an event when he sixteen, he joined joined a group of his friends at a rally outside the main UHG offices. They were protesting the infamous cross-species act, that would have forced mixed-species couples to be sterilized. This was atrocious, and while many Pure Human supporters wanted the act. The Hub was apposed. However, with no jurisdiction, they were not able to debate this matter. On Algolis, Anden and his friends crowded the Government District Square in protest. After an hour of protest, riot police were dispatched to control the crowd. As the police surrounded them, the protesters did various things to show their point of view. Anden decided that it would be very "powerful" if he showed his affection to his partner, a Quortha by the name of Kuurtz. It must have hit a nerve with the police, because he and his boyfriend were sprayed in the face with deterrence foam and arrested, along with almost 150 other rebellion teens.

News of this protest reached Hub space, and they promptly took control of Algolis space after long neogotiations with the United Human Governments. They soon came to an agreement, as the Cross-Species act would be acknowledged on Pure-Blood Human planets, while all of free space would fall under Hub laws.

After this incident, Anden decided to turn his life away from rebellion and anarchism. He returned to schooling, and rekindled his relationship with his parents. Anden graduated as the third in his class, and took a position working with the Algolis Government, but after a year of service, he found himself disillusioned with government once more, and decided to contact the The Followers of The New Age, a group of intellectual individuals who felt dedicated to bringing equality and technology to those who lived without it.


"You still aren't off the hook, Anden," his father said as the car turned into the driveway. Anden remained silent as the car came to a stop. "But, I understand why you did what you did," his father turned the key in the ignition.

"You wanted to make a stand."

Anden's scowl loosened as his dad spoke. Slowly, he turned his way.

"You stood by what you believed in. I don't agree with what you do, but I can't say I'm not proud of that fact."


Anden winced as the hot water connected with his shoulder and ran down his back, running over bruisesamd scars. All that, just for a kiss? He rolled his arm and cleared the steam from the mirror. What made them hate me so much?.."

Reality struck him, and he looked at the person in the mirror. Dyed hair, piercings, tattoos. Who was that? What made him do that to himself? Why did he look like that?

Whoever it was. It wasn't Anden.

First went the piercings, then he removed the contact lenses, and after an hour of scrubbing and detoxing, the dye was finally gone. Anden looked back into the mirror, and his vision was met with a blurry reflection. Almost forgot, it's been so long...

Anden reached for his glasses, and pushed them up and nose and in front of his eyes. Finally he looked like himself.

"Hello, my name is Anden Vasari. And you?" He stuck out his hand to the mirror. "Nice to meet you, Anden, I'm sure we'll be good friends." He smiled at the reflection.

"I'm sure..."


"And you want to be one of us?"


The Duran leaned back in her seat and eyed the young Variant up and down. He was neatly dressed, but had obviously been traveling. His hair had been combed before he had left, but now hung in front of his face and stuck out on the sides, he hadn't shaved a few days, and he smelled a little bad.

"I'm looking at your file, and I see a discrepancy... you were once arrested," she continued, and took a glance at Anden, his nervousness began leaking through. "But someone has taken the time to heavily encode it... you wouldn't know who, would you?"

"Maybe... my father?"

"He's a script-kiddie?"

"He's Hu-Gov..."

The Duran sat up. "So, you messed up and dad was still willing to cover you? What did you do?"

"I rallied against the Human Purity Act."

The Duran laughed. "Really? You stood down a legion of Hu-Gov cops and took a beating from the man?"

Nervously, Anden began to laugh as well. "Yeah... I guess I did."

Wiping a tear from her eye, and stood up her full height and extended a hand. "I would've taken that over a Degree from Han-Lin any day." She added as they joined hands and shook.

"Welcome to The Shakespeares, kid."


Danny Schmidt - This Too Shall Pass

-- Vehicle Sheet --


Name: Hikamaru Manufacturing's Terrestrial Utility Repair Tank and Loader, or TURTL.

Role in Combat: Turtle was originally built for utility purposes, and so, excels at taking hits, but can't really throw them out. It will most likely be used in moving cargo and drawing away enemy fire.

Weapons: In truth, Turtle wasn't built for war. Originally Turtle was built as a loading and starship repair model, however, it may be outfitted for light combat and defence:

- A automatic energy shield system, it can absorb most forms of plasma and laser, but is crap at stopping bullets.

- Magnetic non-lethal EMP Grenades, designed to shut down and destroy electronics without hurting organics, however, they can damage cybernetics.

- Turtle has a built in arm-mounted plasma saw that can cut through metals of varying thickness.

- The limbs of Turtle are built to endure heavy abuse from the elements and other machinery.

Mech Origins: Borrowed from a childhood friend on Algolis, doesn't really know what Anden is doing with it.

Appearance: A rounded dome to let projectiles bounce off the hull, hence the name Turtle. It's standard colour is dull beige. It stands at about 25 feet tall.

Other Features: Turtle can be controlled remotely, or can be issued commands from afar. Going head on into a fight while inside would be suicide.
~~ You are but a grain of sand, in the sands of time. ~~

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