KaiserElectric

Nomadic Odyssey: Find Your Heart (Fighting Game/Anime Inspired Journey!)

Interest >:3

Mass Effect: Harpocrates

"Yes, yes, that's the ticket, that's the in..."

Avicia Sancrius' heels clacked on the metal floor as she turned and paced the other direction, arms crossed over her chest.

"Overload and overflow, the door comes crashing in. A stream of data to clog the system and cause an informational cascade. Bypass any simple cyberspace lock mechanism. It's so elementary..."

She turned again, facing down a squadron of enemy soldiers in black armor, aiming their rifles at her.

"Practical application then, let's see. Standard to high-end, corporate issue highly likely. Reliable, but most certainly with cut corners. Electronic triggers especially vulnerable. Overload and bypass, and what can we do?"

She snapped her fingers, and seven clicks were heard. The mercenaries looked down to see the grenades strapped to their belts had activated. The collective fireball created a gleam on the turian's goggles as she grinned excitedly.

"Definite defensive applications as well," she continued, raising her arm and effortlessly catching the grenade launched in her face. "No no no, I can do better." She tossed it aside, and caught a rocket with even less effort. "Perfect, rocket propelled ammunition, notoriously vulnerable to override with the proper parameters. Or better yet..."

She craned her neck to see the turian battleship overhead, loaded down with the same type of warheads. She rubbed her hands together excitedly. "Definite need for current military codes, but past that, it's only a matter of a few quick commands before-"

There was a sound like thunder as flames emerged from within the structure and it began listing. She bounced on her heels, waiting to imagine what the vessel would look like erupting into plasmic flame when-

"Helm to Barracks. We’re in the shadow of Faringor.”

Avicia jerked out of her daydreaming with a start, smacking her forehead into the low ceiling of her bunk, Kemerskai stirring from his resting place around her neck and sniffing the air curiously.

"Ugh, these things are like coffins," Avicia groaned, rubbing her head as she lifted the space ferret out of her collar with the other hand, sticking the furry little critter on the bedding next to his brother. It was practically cliche to complain about living quarters in her profession, but in fairness these accommodations were rather pathetic. No doubt because the humans in charge were banking on their hired hands being too desperate to say no to this job, she concluded.

The throbbing in her head subsiding, she dug through her chaotic mess of a living space and pulled out all the equipment she'd need, and a few extras for good measure, and started off down the hallway still checking over her launcher, until reaching the room and finding a comfortable table to sit on rather then a chair, still fiddling with the firing mechanism on her weapon. She unloaded it from her last job, right? Eh, probably.

”Why can’t they ever send us somewhere nice, like Oma Ker, or Arvuna?” the other turian in the room sighed, prompting her attention.

"They save those for the security technicians who make much more money then we do, naturally," Avicia replied as though this were obvious. "Also, what's wrong with the lights in here, why's everything so gree...oh!" Avicia lowered her goggles from her eyes to leave them hanging around her neck, grinning proudly. "Another crisis solved!"

Mass Effect: Second Vigil

Zenobia Vartius

Solveig Wistrom

"Roll for Initiative"

---

Havana Spaceport

“I could have gotten the shuttle myself,” Solveig said - tone dry as ever, a small sigh punctuated.

“Probably but I’m pretty sure I’d get yelled at if I spent the mission sleeping in the smoking lounge. Besides, could be fun!” Zenobia responded, not missing a beat with energy and enthusiasm. They would need both of those things.

Solveig sighed again, she’d at least rinsed off in the shower before leaving, it did feel better to wash the last couple of days off, that was for sure. Not one to miss a detail, she spied the shadows under the door of the Spaceport and her brow quirked; “Don’t think that’s what we were expecting, no?” she said, drawing into herself with a slow, purposeful breath as she readied herself. “Tell me what you’re good at,” she said again - the intention to learn about Zenobia’s skills - the execution… simply rude.

The turian cracked her knuckles, sparks of biotic energy flying from between her fingers. “Breach tactics, frontal assault, shock and awe. Pick your poison, so long as I can get my hands dirty.” If the Turian was cautious after spotting those shadows, she didn’t show it. If anything, she seemed eager to jump in and take them on, damn the consequences. She made a finger gun and tracked it at the door. “I say we make this easy; I go in swinging, you go nuts while they’re all running scared. Pop pop pop.”

Truthfully, that was exactly what Sol wanted. She knew battle, and she felt something rising - a feeling, anger, emotions - swirling. She felt the familiar sting of her arm. As if Zen’s energy caught her and brought her to life. “Pop?” Sol raised her brow again, but began stepping back as if to clear the way for the Turian, natural as anything. “Pop.” she affirmed, motioning to the door, and then her tactical cloak was down - she was a ghost.

Zenobia was not.

Taking no care to make herself hidden or subtle, she strode right up to the door, flexed her neck for a moment, then kicked the lock mechanism to blow open the door in style.

“Housekeeping!”

Mass Effect: Second Vigil

Zenobia Vartius

Lunatic

---

The relative tranquility of the Meliá Resort was very quickly disrupted by the shrill roar of an antique engine. Punctuated by the blaring of the horn, the other vehicles on and above the street quickly pulled to the side as a large green sportscar barreled down the road towards the the resort, the tires squealing as it suddenly turned sharply and spun to a stop alongside the curb.

"See? Told you I could get here in time!" Zenobia Vartius declared triumphantly. "Thanks for the lift!"

The Turian patted the side of the incredibly pale man's cheek as she leapt out of the car over his lap, stretching out to her full impressive height before fishing her carry-on bag out of the backseat, slightly deformed from about a dozen impulse buys from the marketplace. Craning her neck to get a better look, the turian took a moment to appreciate the resort, somehow undamaged from the vicious attack by the Reapers. It was still a little insane to her that anyone would let someone like her within a mile of a place like this, but damn it if she wasn't going to take advantage of it. Did they have a pool? She really, really hoped they had a pool here.

Striding into the lobby, Zenobia very quickly made a scene by vaulting over one of the sofas in the waiting room as she went up to the front desk, where a young drell woman was busy filling out a few forms off to the side. Naturally, the turian's eyes drifted in her direction before the woman behind the counter cleared her throat.

“Welcome to the Meliá Resort, señora," the human with her hair in the tight bun said, just barely hiding her annoyance. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Zenobia Vartius," she declared proudly, turning around to rest her back on the counter. "War hero, special agent in the SRN. Kind of a big deal."

"I...see..." the clerk said, eyes widening slightly with surprise as the name came up. "Well uh, here it is. It says you've been assigned to a room belong to a previous SRN agent."

"Such a shame it wasn't yours," Zenobia smirked at the drell woman, who averted her eyes and hid a slight smile.

"I'll have someone show you to your room," the clerk announced. "Just please don't disturb the guests."

---

A few minutes after the message went out to rendevous in the cigar lounge, something large splashed into the resort's pool, startling the two asari sunbathing there. The two of them glared angrily as Zenobia swam up to the edge and hoisted herself out, looking positively elated.

"What in the world are you doing?!?" one of them demanded indignantly.

Zenobia paused, glancing back at the pool. "I think it's kind of obvious, isn't it?"

"Hooligan!" the other asari huffed as the two stomped away angrily.

"Don't act like you've never thought of doing that!" Zenobia shouted after them, grabbing a towl from a stunned member of the staff and toweling herself off before heading inside and making her way to the lounge, of course already heavy with the smell of smoke. The scent made her nose twitch, and of course she took the yellow cigar that was offered to her as the SRN associate introduced herself, rather timidly at that.

"Zenobia Vartius," she introduced herself proudly, giving a friendly albeit aggressive handshake. Introduced to the others in turn, she sat down backwards in her chair as the details were given and the meeting commenced. With the friendly but professional atmosphere, it was almost kind of comforting. If she closed her eyes, she could have pretended they were all in yellow armor again, and Edarisa was lecturing her about not blowing up every door they came across. God, she missed Eda...

Still, as fun as daydreaming would be, there was work to do. The party sounded really damn fun, but it seemed like the shuttle or the signal would have been more in her wheelhouse, both of which sounded like more of a priority, at least for her teammates.

“I’ll get the shuttle."

The abruptness of the grumpy human's statement and departure was enough to cause a stir, the green asari even making a comment about her rudeness. Knocking the ashes off her cigar, she turned to the others.

"I can go and help Chuckles back there secure the shuttle," Zenobia offered. "She looks like an infiltrator, I can work well with them."

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War [Moved to New Thread]

More men in uniform were a welcome sight. Especially in those pilot uniforms. Angry people seldom think logically, and a part of Marlena worried that an angry mob would have been less likely to listen to a band of multinational soldiers like hers. Going by their specific garb they looked like pilots, in fact.

"Vietnam's People Air Force," one of the men stated, confirming her theory as he looked over her, eyes lingering on the wound in her side. "Are you alright, ma'am? We can take you to our airbase."

Her men chuckled slightly as Marlena smiled in appreciation. <"It's not necessary, but thank you."> she signed at the two men, making sure one of her number was watching.

"It's not necessary, but thank you," one of the soldiers translated. "She heals quick anyway."

"Ja, she is one of the, ah, der Edelwaffen?" The soldier snapped his fingers as he tried to think of the word.

"Noble Arm."

"Ja, Noble Arm!" the German soldier said proudly. To demonstrate, Marlena held her arms out and drew on her powers a bit, causing a slight rain despite the clear skies overhead. Afterwards, she signed again before giving a proud salute.

"Sgt. Marlena Dorn, Wachturm," the German soldier translated for the two pilots.

"We're Laeleps right now, special assignment," a man in the back corrected.

@Conscripts

Mass Effect: Second Vigil

Zenobia Vartius

Zenobia Vartius

Lunatic

---

D O S S I E R Species Turian Homeworld Xerceo Age 29 Height/Weight 6'3''/240 Class Adept Affiliation Eclipse L O A D O U T - M-3 Predator + High Caliber Barrel - M-4 Shuriken - Biotic Amplifier - Custom Light Armor I N V E N T O R Y - Credits: 800 - Medi-Gel Pack (x2) - Switchblade P O W E R S - Throw - Backlash - Lance - Shockwave - Singularity

A P P E A R A N C E Zenobia is noticeably tall and muscular for a female of her species, with dark gray skin, bright blue eyes, and her face heavily decorated with a white facial tattoo, save for a prominent moon-shaped scar under her left eye. In combat situations she normally wears deep green light armor, somewhat patched over with a prominent white moon on her left shoulder, the outfit coming with a matching short cloak and a bandolier for her equipment, and she usually wears crop tops and trousers in her casual wear. Her body language tends to be rather domineering, and she's not afraid to loom over someone or put her feet up on a superior's desk to make a point. B A C K G R O U N D Hailing from one of the moons of Xerceo, Zenobia was born with the rare gift of biotic abilities, thanks to an incident of friendly fire causing an element zero leak on the ship her mother was captaining. Knowing the stigma that her abilities would have given her in turian society, her father used his position in the bureaucracy to cover up the mandatory surgery to implant her control chip in the hopes that she'd be able to live a full and productive life without being shuffled into one of the Cabals. It was done with the best of intentions, but being forced into secrecy and constantly told her gifts would make her a freak and an outcast made her quiet and withdrawn out of a fear of rejection. With such a strained, complicated relationship, it wasn't exactly a heartbreaking moment for her when she left home to begin her work in the national service. And yet disaster struck only a year into basic training. During a live fire exercise, a sudden explosion caught Zenobia off guard and she instinctively threw up a crude biotic barrier to protect herself. Mistaking the move for an attack, and remembering the reputation of biotics as treacherous spies and infiltrators, the other recruits panicked and attacked her, nearly beating her to death before she was arrested by the CO. The recruits were given a stern warning and Zenobia was arranged for immediate transfer to a Cabal unit once she was recovered enough to shamble to port. Stewing in her hospital bed, all the resentments and anger she kept hidden up to that point at last began to boil over, until the guard escorting her to a transport ship struck her with the end of his rifle to get her moving. At long last Zenobia snapped and retaliated with a skull-cracking biotic fist, blasting her way to the transport pad and stealing the ship meant to take her to a Cabal and escaping into the Terminus System. Branded an outlaw and a wanted criminal, Zenobia abandoned the ship at Korlus and became a roaming vagrant, running with gangs and committing petty crimes to try and scrape by. After getting kicked out of her latest gang, she was slumming on Omega and attempting to hold up passersby with a cheap pistol when the asari she inadvertently chose to mug that day was an out-of-uniform Eclipse mercenary named Edarisa. The asari promptly kicked her to the curb and back again, but when Zenobia parried a lethal attack with a crude biotic push, Edaris was suddenly intrigued at the idea of a turian with biotic potential, and offered her the chance to join her team on a job. They'd been hired to steal a Hierarchy transport containing military payrolls, and Edaris had been tasked to find someone who could be a face for the group and help them get close enough to spring an attack. Zenobia, eager for a little revenge, readily agreed. The job was a smashing success, and even with a tiny percentage of the cut Zenobia made a killing for her small part, enough to buy a proper implant to replace her cheap mandatory one, but all that money paled in comparison to the connections she made. Eclipse had been impressed with her performance, and the next time Edaris contacted Zenobia, it was with an offer to try on the yellow armor herself. Within the year, she'd downed a Blood Pack warrior in a biotic duel and earned her place in the organization as a full-fledged mercenary. Zenobia reveled as a hired gun, finding a sincere joy in living outside the structured system of the hierarchy and the freedom her new life offered. She also loved being in a team that not only accepted biotics but encouraged their use, finding her calling as an exceptionally powerful adept who specialized in aggressive tactics, a contrast to her colleague Edarisa who favored a more cautious and tactical approach that paired extremely well with Zenobia's style. Indeed, Zenobia was such an aggressive fighter that she had a tendency to discard her weapons entirely and fight solely with her biotics, even when such a move was poorly thought out. One such incident came when her team was pinned down by an Illium security force and, thinking of no other option, she threw her pistol at the head security guard and knocked her out before diving in with her biotics, bursting into maniacal laughter as desperation and the stress of battle overwhelmed her. The incident, combined with the signature scar on her cheek, earned her the nickname 'Lunatic', one she's worn with pride ever since. Despite all odds though, her skill got results, and within a few years Edarisa was promoted to Captain and brought along Zenobia as her second in command, and the two proved just as capable in leadership as they did on the battlefield. The two barely had time to make their mark as leaders however when those old rumors about who was really behind the mad turian Saren's attack on the Citadel were confirmed in the worst way possible as the Reapers began their invasion of the galaxy. Fleeing in the wake of the assaults in Terminus, Edarisa and Zenobia were soon informed that Eclipse had fallen under the leadership of the queen of Omega Aria T'Loak, and Edarisa's group had been ordered to the Sol system along with the Terminus fleet to assist in the invasion of Earth. As per usual, Edarisa was to stay behind and help coordinate the overall attack and strategy, while Zenobia would take a strike force and join the battle on Earth directly. The two wished one another luck as always, but after Zenobia departed, she wondered if she should have told Edarisa the truth; that she had begun to see her as much more then a friend or even a partner. That didn't matter in the heat of battle, as Zenobia fought with the same manic ferocity against the occupiers, leading her loyal team on a surgical strike deep into Reaper-held territory. She and her team fought til the clips ran out, and then she pushed on until the blood poured from her nose from how hard she pushed her biotics. Their numbers dwindled, their reserves ran dry, and Zenobia told what was left of her team to run and save themselves, as the enemy bore down on her and she prepared to give them everything she had. And then it was over. A great wave swept through the sky, and the Reapers and all their forces fell, wiped out by Shepard's last gambit aboard the Crucible. Watching them all crumble, realizing what had happened, Zenobia laughed. She laughed harder then she ever had in her life, tears pouring down her face, until she collapsed from exhaustion on the battlefield. Victory of course had not come cheap. With the relays destroyed, Zenobia became one of many abandoned in the Sol sector trying to pick up the pieces and survive in what was left. The Eclipse she knew was gone, as was her team, lying dead or wounded on the battlefield. She didn't even know if Edarisa was still alive and escaped alongside the Terminus fleet before the relays were destroyed or not. Zenobia felt lost, more despondent then when she first left home, and briefly considered joining some of the mercenaries acting as pirates beyond the asteroid belt before she was contacted by the Sol Restoration Network, having heard of her formidable resume. Their offer wasn't bad at all. A better use of her skills, an honest paycheck, and no one needed to beat her up in an alley first. She'd have to be crazy not to accept it. M O T I V A T I O N It used to be a lot easier then this. Do a job, get paid, have a good time. It made her happy, and that's all that mattered. But things have changed now. Sure she's still the fun-loving maniac who's in for a good time and loves nothing more then a decent scrap, but without a friend to steer her or a target to vent her anger at, it's hard not to feel rudderless. Fifteen years later and still the same damn problem; she's a misshapen piece that nobody wants and can't fit anywhere. It was tough not to feel like she did long ago when the other recruits left her beaten and bloodied on the training field. Worthless. Used up. Better off gone. Well, fuck that. She'd make the piece fit somehow. She still has something to prove. And if she can have a good time doing it, so much the better. The galaxy's not done with Zenobia Vartius just yet. F L A W S Guileless: Zenobia's way of solving problems is uncomplicated; fix them. She's not one to sweat the small stuff or look at the big picture, and if she thinks something is wrong or unjust she'll immediately jump in to correct it, damn the circumstances. Berzerker: Zenobia's not called lunatic for nothing. While a highly competent fighter, she's always had the tendency to give in to the hysteria of battle, resorting to highly aggressive and strategically unsound tactics going purely by instinct and gut feelings. Off the field, she also has a tendency to be deeply emotional and passionate, being quick to anger and unafraid to voice her feelings. M I S C Yes I wear green. Yes I know I'm Eclipse. I LIKE green. Fuck you.

Mass Effect: Second Vigil

Zenobia Vartius

Zenobia Vartius

Lunatic

---

D O S S I E R Species Turian Homeworld Xerceo Age 29 Height/Weight 6'3''/240 Class Adept Affiliation Eclipse L O A D O U T - M-3 Predator + High Caliber Barrel - M-4 Shuriken - Biotic Amplifier - Custom Light Armor I N V E N T O R Y - Credits: 800 - Medi-Gel Pack (x2) - Switchblade P O W E R S - Throw - Backlash - Lance - Shockwave

A P P E A R A N C E Zenobia is noticeably tall and muscular for a female of her species, with dark gray skin, bright blue eyes, and her face heavily decorated with a white facial tattoo, save for a prominent moon-shaped scar under her left eye. In combat situations she normally wears deep green light armor, somewhat patched over with a prominent white moon on her left shoulder, the outfit coming with a matching short cloak and a bandolier for her equipment, and she usually wears crop tops and trousers in her casual wear. Her body language tends to be rather domineering, and she's not afraid to loom over someone or put her feet up on a superior's desk to make a point. B A C K G R O U N D Hailing from one of the moons of Xerceo, Zenobia was born with the rare gift of biotic abilities, thanks to an incident of friendly fire causing an element zero leak on the ship her mother was captaining. Knowing the stigma that her abilities would have given her in turian society, her father used his position in the bureaucracy to cover up the mandatory surgery to implant her control chip in the hopes that she'd be able to live a full and productive life without being shuffled into one of the Cabals. It was done with the best of intentions, but being forced into secrecy and constantly told her gifts would make her a freak and an outcast made her quiet and withdrawn out of a fear of rejection. With such a strained, complicated relationship, it wasn't exactly a heartbreaking moment for her when she left home to begin her work in the national service. And yet disaster struck only a year into basic training. During a live fire exercise, a sudden explosion caught Zenobia off guard and she instinctively threw up a crude biotic barrier to protect herself. Mistaking the move for an attack, and remembering the reputation of biotics as treacherous spies and infiltrators, the other recruits panicked and attacked her, nearly beating her to death before she was arrested by the CO. The recruits were given a stern warning and Zenobia was arranged for immediate transfer to a Cabal unit once she was recovered enough to shamble to port. Stewing in her hospital bed, all the resentments and anger she kept hidden up to that point at last began to boil over, until the guard escorting her to a transport ship struck her with the end of his rifle to get her moving. At long last Zenobia snapped and retaliated with a skull-cracking biotic fist, blasting her way to the transport pad and stealing the ship meant to take her to a Cabal and escaping into the Terminus System. Branded an outlaw and a wanted criminal, Zenobia abandoned the ship at Korlus and became a roaming vagrant, running with gangs and committing petty crimes to try and scrape by. After getting kicked out of her latest gang, she was slumming on Omega and attempting to hold up passersby with a cheap pistol when the asari she inadvertently chose to mug that day was an out-of-uniform Eclipse mercenary named Edarisa. The asari promptly kicked her to the curb and back again, but when Zenobia parried a lethal attack with a crude biotic push, Edaris was suddenly intrigued at the idea of a turian with biotic potential, and offered her the chance to join her team on a job. They'd been hired to steal a Hierarchy transport containing military payrolls, and Edaris had been tasked to find someone who could be a face for the group and help them get close enough to spring an attack. Zenobia, eager for a little revenge, readily agreed. The job was a smashing success, and even with a tiny percentage of the cut Zenobia made a killing for her small part, enough to buy a proper implant to replace her cheap mandatory one, but all that money paled in comparison to the connections she made. Eclipse had been impressed with her performance, and the next time Edaris contacted Zenobia, it was with an offer to try on the yellow armor herself. Within the year, she'd downed a Blood Pack warrior in a biotic duel and earned her place in the organization as a full-fledged mercenary. Zenobia reveled as a hired gun, finding a sincere joy in living outside the structured system of the hierarchy and the freedom her new life offered. She also loved being in a team that not only accepted biotics but encouraged their use, finding her calling as an exceptionally powerful adept who specialized in aggressive tactics, a contrast to her colleague Edarisa who favored a more cautious and tactical approach that paired extremely well with Zenobia's style. Indeed, Zenobia was such an aggressive fighter that she had a tendency to discard her weapons entirely and fight solely with her biotics, even when such a move was poorly thought out. One such incident came when her team was pinned down by an Illium security force and, thinking of no other option, she threw her pistol at the head security guard and knocked her out before diving in with her biotics, bursting into maniacal laughter as desperation and the stress of battle overwhelmed her. The incident, combined with the signature scar on her cheek, earned her the nickname 'Lunatic', one she's worn with pride ever since. Despite all odds though, her skill got results, and within a few years Edarisa was promoted to Captain and brought along Zenobia as her second in command, and the two proved just as capable in leadership as they did on the battlefield. The two barely had time to make their mark as leaders however when those old rumors about who was really behind the mad turian Saren's attack on the Citadel were confirmed in the worst way possible as the Reapers began their invasion of the galaxy. Fleeing in the wake of the assaults in Terminus, Edarisa and Zenobia were soon informed that Eclipse had fallen under the leadership of the queen of Omega Aria T'Loak, and Edarisa's group had been ordered to the Sol system along with the Terminus fleet to assist in the invasion of Earth. As per usual, Edarisa was to stay behind and help coordinate the overall attack and strategy, while Zenobia would take a strike force and join the battle on Earth directly. The two wished one another luck as always, but after Zenobia departed, she wondered if she should have told Edarisa the truth; that she had begun to see her as much more then a friend or even a partner. That didn't matter in the heat of battle, as Zenobia fought with the same manic ferocity against the occupiers, leading her loyal team on a surgical strike deep into Reaper-held territory. She and her team fought til the clips ran out, and then she pushed on until the blood poured from her nose from how hard she pushed her biotics. Their numbers dwindled, their reserves ran dry, and Zenobia told what was left of her team to run and save themselves, as the enemy bore down on her and she prepared to give them everything she had. And then it was over. A great wave swept through the sky, and the Reapers and all their forces fell, wiped out by Shepard's last gambit aboard the Crucible. Watching them all crumble, realizing what had happened, Zenobia laughed. She laughed harder then she ever had in her life, tears pouring down her face, until she collapsed from exhaustion on the battlefield. Victory of course had not come cheap. With the relays destroyed, Zenobia became one of many abandoned in the Sol sector trying to pick up the pieces and survive in what was left. The Eclipse she knew was gone, as was her team, lying dead or wounded on the battlefield. She didn't even know if Edarisa was still alive and escaped alongside the Terminus fleet before the relays were destroyed or not. Zenobia felt lost, more despondent then when she first left home, and briefly considered joining some of the mercenaries acting as pirates beyond the asteroid belt before she was contacted by the Sol Restoration Network, having heard of her formidable resume. Their offer wasn't bad at all. A better use of her skills, an honest paycheck, and no one needed to beat her up in an alley first. She'd have to be crazy not to accept it. M O T I V A T I O N It used to be a lot easier then this. Do a job, get paid, have a good time. It made her happy, and that's all that mattered. But things have changed now. Sure she's still the fun-loving maniac who's in for a good time and loves nothing more then a decent scrap, but without a friend to steer her or a target to vent her anger at, it's hard not to feel rudderless. Fifteen years later and still the same damn problem; she's a misshapen piece that nobody wants and can't fit anywhere. It was tough not to feel like she did long ago when the other recruits left her beaten and bloodied on the training field. Worthless. Used up. Better off gone. Well, fuck that. She'd make the piece fit somehow. She still has something to prove. And if she can have a good time doing it, so much the better. The galaxy's not done with Zenobia Vartius just yet. F L A W S Guileless: Zenobia's way of solving problems is uncomplicated; fix them. She's not one to sweat the small stuff or look at the big picture, and if she thinks something is wrong or unjust she'll immediately jump in to correct it, damn the circumstances. Berzerker: Zenobia's not called lunatic for nothing. While a highly competent fighter, she's always had the tendency to give in to the hysteria of battle, resorting to highly aggressive and strategically unsound tactics going purely by instinct and gut feelings. Off the field, she also has a tendency to be deeply emotional and passionate, being quick to anger and unafraid to voice her feelings. M I S C Yes I wear green. Yes I know I'm Eclipse. I LIKE green. Fuck you.

Noble Arms - The ASEAN War [Moved to New Thread]

The capital had been well and truly ravaged by the assault. Military vehicles rolled down the battered streets carrying men and supplies, tossing up dust in the faces of the civilians trying to rebuild and the lonely conscripts patrolling the streets. The battle was over, but command was not taking any chances; anyone not counted among the casualties was to recon the area, account for any missing in action, and most importantly sweep the area for any leftover PRC invaders. By midday, three prisoners had already been taken. One had died before medical treatment could be given. Two were caught in the act of setting land mines and were killed in action. One poor soul ran afoul of the locals before he could be captured. Best not to dwell on what happened to him.

Moreso then rubble or blood, anger seemed to run through the ruined streets. Not furious and shouting, but quiet, brooding. Threatening to explode out at any moment. It was the sort of feeling Marlena was far too familiar with, and perhaps why she had eyes for the buildings instead.

Pausing to give her men a break and let the recon look around from atop a nearby roof, Marlena cast her eyes up at the building across the street, her head tilting to one side. The old stone capitol was still intact enough for her to recognize it; the Casa Real, once the seat of power in this region when the Spanish ruled from across two oceans. Even if it was far more modern then what she usually found interest in, it made her heart ache all the same to see such a place reduced to this. Two generations of history, nearly wiped out in a senseless burst of destruction. Where was the glory in this?

The recon grunted as he jumped down from his perch, giving a thumbs up to indicate there was nothing to report. Marlena nodded in approval and gestured onwards with a snap of her fingers, leading the conscripts deeper into the city, where the destruction and the civilian population was denser. Her boots crunching on broken glass, she felt a tap on her shoulder as one of the conscripts gestured ahead of the group. A small mob seemed to have gathered around a storefront, suffering way more damage then would have been expected from the attack, the broken signage translated into spanish and mandarin. Marlena frowned, seeing raised fists even from this distance and more debris flying out at the storefront. The bitter feeling in the pit of her stomach told her this was exactly what it seemed to be.

Stretching out a hand in preparation for a quick summoning of her arm, Marlena shot ahead of her team, getting a better look at the gathering mob, faces contorted in fury. Running ahead of it was a balding Chinese man, ducking as a glass bottle shattered just over his head as he placed himself in front of the door. Marlena didn't even stop to give an order or direction, roughly pushing her way through the mob as a young man rushed forward. She spotted something silver glint in his hand, the sudden look of fear in the shopkeeper's eyes, matched by the small faces visible through the door behind him.

Marlena felt the sting of the cheap shiv as it jabbed her in the side, barely inches from its intended target. The young man turned ghostly pale as he glanced up at her, buckling under Marlena's piercing gaze. She didn't need her weapon. She didn't even need to raise a fist. The message was made perfectly clear as he frantically scrambled away, the bloody knife clattering to the ground haplessly. The other soldiers would shout a few orders to disperse the rest of the mob, if they hadn't already slunk away in shame.

Turning around, she saw the children still standing by the window, looking amazed and excited by what happened, not knowing the cruel truth of what had nearly happened. Marlena gave them a bright smile in response.

A little less hate. And maybe, God willing, just a little more hope.

Age of Marvels - A Marvel Comics Roleplay [CLOSED]

I finished reading through this a bit and I'm also quite interested in playing around with this setting! Expect a lil something from me as well ^^

Edit: As a Sidenote, has anyone done anything involving Ultron? I didn't notice him being brought up at all in the character sheets but I wanted to check.

Mass Effect: Harpocrates

_______________________________________________ Personal Data D A T A Full Name - Avicia Sancrius Designation - Sunder Species - Turian Age - 29 (b. 2154) Origin - Altakiril Classification - Engineer Unique Specialization - Turian Demolitionist - Psyche Analysis P S Y C H E The Mad Scientist Avicia is in possession of an incredibly bright mind, albeit one that probably had something important knocked loose a long time ago. Unquestionably gifted in a variety of fields, her insatiable drive for knowledge and discovery pairs like sodium and water with her penchant to go with whatever off the wall idea pops into her head that moment. She thrives in chaos, especially the chaos she creates herself, and friend and foe alike often have trouble adapting to her sheer unpredictability. Of Course I'm Right! Brimming with perpetual confidence, Avicia Sancrius likes to think she has all the answers, and more often then not, she does. She's not modest in her success and will happily inform you many times over when something turns out in her favor, or a solution she provided worked marvelously. On the other hand, she'll tend to excuse things not quite going according to plan, and while she's capable of admitting when she's made a mistake, it definitely needles her a bit when she has to admit fault. Endlessly Exploring Avicia rarely sits still, rarely leaves a stone unturned, and will always try something at least once. She's friendly to nearly everyone at first glance, and more then friendly to a select few, but overall dislikes leaving people feeling cold towards her, even if they rarely stick around long enough to be more then acquaintances. A bit of an epicurean, she's also well-versed in many forms of pleasure seeking, to put it mildly, and isn't adverse to doing something foolhardy or dangerous, if only for the sheer sake of doing it. Avicia would call herself open-minded, though others would probably see her as restless or anxious. Both would be right, in a sense. Equipment E Q U I P M E N T ERCS Hurricane A reliable turian-made shotgun, meticulously maintained from her days in the service. Good at dealing with foes who get too close for comfort, and light enough to be carried alongside heavier ordinance. Halliet Stiletto A gift from an unusual friend that's gotten her out of more then a few tough spots. Not the best range for weapons like it, but it's pretty good in a scuffle and it punches through armor quite nicely! HC-12 Demo Charges Simple, versatile, and unquestionably effective. Great for breaches and general destructive power, they attach to nearly any surface and can be remotely detonated or set to a timer. M-100 Grenade Launcher A standard among Terminus system mercenaries, Avicia altered hers somewhat to fire a variety of specialty grenades in addition to the normal high explosive variant, such as smoke and stun grenades. Record R E C O R D Special Intervention Unit The Special Intervention Unit is a batarian special forces division infamous for its brutal training program and discipline; Avicia, when enslaved and trained in the same methods by her batarian master, found it quite fun. Nevertheless, despite no official training, Avicia is well versed in the aggressive tactics of the batarian special forces, being well-versed in shock tactics, demolitions, and subterfuge techniques. Destruction of the Shulgen While suffering from severe burns, Avicia Sancrius infiltrated the vessel of the notorious Batarian warlord Khagrum, planting a series of explosive charges that destroyed the engine, killing the warlord and his crew and sparking off a major battle between the remainder of Khagrum's fleet and the turian task force nearby. Managing to escape from the ship before its destruction, she was rescued from the scene of the battle by a fleeing batarian frigate and escaped to Omega. Assault On The Graychain Gang In her first forays with independent contracting, Avicia was hired by mercenaries in the Blue Suns private security firm to assist in an operation to liberate high value targets being held captive by a band of smugglers known as the Graychain Gang. Spearheading a surprise attack that disabled the gang's ships and pinned them so the Blue Suns could move in, the success of the mission put Avicia's unusual talents on the map and led to a working relationship with the Suns going forward. Connections C O N N E C T I O N S Nels Dusron A Volus merchant actively working in the Terminus Sector, and Avicia's first boyfriend. The two drifted apart after Avicia entered national service, but the two remain on good terms and are able to rely on one another if trouble comes their way. Oram Das'saba To anyone looking from the outside, Oram is Avicia's master, a fair if firm hand who's maybe a little too trusting of his turian thrall to let her galivant across the galaxy so frequently. Underneath the surface though the two are partners, conspirators in a desperate attempt to enact real change in batarian society. In both cases, he tends to be gruff, unfriendly, no-nonsense, and kind of an all around bastard, he's nevertheless stoically devoted to his beliefs (whichever one he wants to show you at the time) and his friends. Despite their highly unusual history and circumstance, Avicia considers the gruff batarian the closest thing to a father figure she's ever had, and though he'd sooner be caught dead then admit it, Oram feels the same way. Caelnia Terraka A Turian mechanic working in the Blue Suns that Avicia shared a wild romantic fling with, which prompted Caelnia to offer her the job that got her regular work from the Suns. The two share more of a working relationship then a romantic one nowadays, but it's not odd for them to get together to blow off a little steam once in a while. Cerbon Srenda A roaming, battle-scarred Krogan merc with his own ambiguously criminal gang. Avicia's worked with him and against him on numerous missions depending on who was paying whom, and despite being on the opposite team more times then once the two share a friendly rivalry with one another.

Physical Details ◢ Avicia stands at a wiry 6'6, with simplistic green clan markings adorning her tanned carapace. She wears light armor modified from a set of Hahne-Kedar Mantis armor, and outside of a firefight her wardrobe tends to consist of eclectic mixes from all over, usually favoring some sort of lab gear. She'd sooner be caught dead then without her lucky pair of lab specs, protective goggles that she keeps around her neck when not wearing them in firefights or doing SCIENCE. She also tends to have her two pet space ferrets, Kemerskai and Astler, close on hand. Personal History ◢ Born on the icy garden world of Altakiril, Avicia was made a ward of the state before her first birthday, her mother passing away in childbirth and her father dying in a training accident. Growing up in the unpleasant and ramshackle Altakiril Orphanotroph, one of the state-mandated organizations intended to raise orphans, the little turian proved to have an insatiable appetite for knowledge, paradoxically finding the state-mandated classes dull and boring and instead preferring to get an education first hand by going exploring, sneaking into libraries and wealthy homes to read fancy high-end books, and spying on important people and events to see what they were up to. Suffice it to say the caretakers at the Orphanotroph found the rambunctious Avicia to be quite the handful and were grateful to send her off to state-mandated national service, where the more disciplined Hierarchy would hopefully drill some discipline into her. Recognizing her keen intellect, after the first mandatory year of boot camp her superiors assigned Avicia to the Corps of Engineers, and in a decision that would have probably given her old caretakers a heart attack, assigned her to a demolitions team, tasked with clearing old infrastructure in preparation for new projects. Finding the job quite compelling, it seemed Avicia was on the path to straightening out when her unit was transferred to the colony of Argentos, tasked with reinforcing the garrisons with new defensive structures. Her job was quickly rendered moot when the colony was set upon by the vicious batarian warlord, Khagrum the Amber. The warlord announced his intentions by launching an orbital strike on the fuel refinery Avicia was stationed at, detonating the volatile fuel reserves and immolating dozens of soldiers and civilians alike in a single blow. As the survivors were entrenching for a fight, the navy task force pursuing the warlord caught up to the fleet and surrounded him, forcing a standoff. Realizing that attacking the warlord would be a costly victory, the admiral in charge of the task force instead offered terms, and over tense negotiations, Khagrum agreed to stand down and put a permanent end into his raids on turian space in exchange for safe passage home for his own fleet. A peaceful retirement without consequences for Khagrum, and a bloodless victory and the removal of a powerful threat to Hierarchy interests in the region. Everyone wins. Avicia was oddly quiet about it. She'd been oddly quiet ever since she got back from the refinery, half-dead and severely burnt like the other survivors. So quiet in fact, that no one noticed she was suspiciously absent from the infirmary when Khagrum's shuttle returned to his flagship, her commander assuming she was still indisposed when she didn't arrive for departure with the rest of her unit. Avicia's whereabouts were quickly forgotten though when the batarian warlord's flagship suddenly exploded, sparking off the bloody fight that both sides sought to avoid. The Battle of Argentos would go on to be one of the many hostilities between the batarians and the citadel races in the leadup to the Skyllian Blitz, only notable because it started over a tragic misunderstanding and a horrific accident. Though that's only because no one thought to follow up on the missing explosives that Avicia attached to the engine of Khagrum's ship. Underhanded perhaps, but if anyone objected, they could take it up with the charred remains of his victims, Avicia thought. Slipping onto an escape pod as her trap was set to go off, she planned to head back to Argentos when the bomb went off slightly too early, shaking the escape pod violently enough to knock her out combined with her burn wounds. As the battle drew to a close and the Batarians went into retreat, the Hensa-class cruiser Aankhen spotted the escape pod and, assuming it was a friendly, picked it up as it made its escape deeper into the Terminus system. When she was discovered and it became clear exactly what she had done, Avicia was all but marked for death by her batarian captors and yet was spared by an unlikely savior. Oram Das'saba, a commander in the Special Intervention Unit, saw potential in someone with the skills to pull off such an act of subterfuge and asserted his authority to take the prisoner for himself, enslaving Avicia to save her life. Spirited away to her new master's home in Camala, Avicia's natural talents and minimal training were honed further by the brutal training of the SIU given by her new master until she was experienced enough to be brought along on missions with her master, acting as his agent and enforcer. Such duties were atypical of a society where most enslaved prisoners were worked to death in the mines, but as she later learned, Oram was rather atypical of his species himself. Despite nominally being an agent of the Hegemony, Oram was a reformist, one of many hidden opponents to the government who believed that batarian society needed to change drastically, and that the Hegemony needed to liberalize and rejoin the galactic community, lest it face imminent collapse. With open rebellion being practically suicide, Oram and his allies had worked in the shadows to gather support and cripple their enemies in the hopes of one day toppling the Hegemony, a task which Avicia's talents would serve well, and having witnessed the Hegemony's brutality firsthand, Avicia was only too happy to help. As a result, Oram official granted her permission to collect a share of his payment for mercenary work (which he was already giving to her anyway under the table), enough to buy her way into a higher caste in batarian society. Thus she went into mercenary work semi-independently, on paper still a slave of her master acting on his orders, but in truth largely independent, and a reliable ally in Oram's brewing resistance. Higher status in batarian society brought better contracts and better paychecks, and money and independence in Avicia's hands is a dangerous thing. Resuming her old curiosities in earnest, the turian gained a reputation as a reliable if volatile scientist and mercenary, her experiments and antics proving almost as destructive and chaotic as her work in the field. Things are largely going well for her, with plans to move to a brand new lab on Illium, but in the shadows something much bigger is brewing. A shakeup in the Hegemony's government had left several prominent positions opened, positions which Oram is rapidly working to fill with his own agents, including a member of the Technocratic Board. An agent in such a high position on Khar'shan itself could be the lynchpin for an eventual uprising, and despite such a move being unprecedented, Oram wants that agent to be Avicia, citing her scientific prowess and her unquestioning loyalty to stave off any misgivings about her race. Indeed, the biggest obstacle to such a goal is not her race but her caste, something she'd need one hell of a paycheck to make work. Combat Analysis ◢ Shock in awe in the bluntest sense possible. While Avicia has the hardcore training of the SIU and the experience and quick-thinking of a hired gun, her expertise lies her clever use of high explosives, staggering and knocking back enemies with a well-timed grenade, turning the environment against a foe with a perfectly placed demolition pack, and in general hitting as hard as possible so a hostile doesn't get the chance to react. Reason for Vacating Previous Situation ◢ The money from this job with ExoGeni would be enough to help her move to a higher social standing in the Hegemony as well as continue her research. Why, if she's lucky, she could even score a high-ranking government position if she gets her rank up in time.