[center]Alright! Here is Batch#1! Batch#2 is already in the oven and will be out as soon as I'm able to finish it up! Once again I would like to thank all of y'all for your patience and cooperation as I try to handle all these applications![/center][hr]

[@Heat] [hider=Drayak Vash]
[center][img]https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/611cc9a0-c473-430d-867a-338a0f4145c6/daaxp93-2f8fb345-ca89-4791-89ab-648d304afbb7.jpg/v1/fill/w_459,h_350,q_70,strp/krogan_oc_by_flowerpot_princess_daaxp93-350t.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9Njg2IiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvNjExY2M5YTAtYzQ3My00MzBkLTg2N2EtMzM4YTBmNDE0NWM2XC9kYWF4cDkzLTJmOGZiMzQ1LWNhODktNDc5MS04OWFiLTY0OGQzMDRhZmJiNy5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9OTAwIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmltYWdlLm9wZXJhdGlvbnMiXX0.qc7P70UMRlKKiN0ulzM0udQ2e18wwrJ62DBXcDve_gE[/img]
[color=dadada][sub][color=BABABA]D r a y a k  V a s h[/color]
[color=BABABA]⟁[/color] 301 [color=BABABA]⟁[/color] ♂ [color=BABABA]⟁[/color] Krogan [color=BABABA]⟁[/color] Soldier [/sub][/color][/center]

[color=BABABA][sub]A P P E A R A N C E[/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada]Most often clad in armor, and armed to the teeth, Vash casts an imposing figure. He never leaves home unarmed, and always seems ready for a fight even when in the midst of a drunken haze. His eyes are a fierce golden shade, with focused irises like that of a ferocious predator. His head plates are a medium green, skin a muted brown. The right side of his face is scarred with multiple short cuts and burns, the markings a warrior bears. Another small healed cut sits on the left lower side of his jaw. A cocky smile often persists on his lips, and is often accompanied by a deep, hearty (frequently drunken) laugh. Depending on his mindset and which side of his allegiance you stand on, his smiles and laughter can either be soothing or terrifying.

A sturdy, physically powerful specimen, Vash stands 2.2 meters in height and weighs in at roughly 350 pounds. Like the others of his species he has a muscle bound, sturdy figure. He is in shape and immensely strong in regards to raw physicality. His armor is scratched and scarred, the paint scuffed in parts, but it is still in fine working condition. He refuses to get these markings fixed, seeing it as adding 'character' to his armor. On his right forearm he has a black tattoo of a krogan skull with a scar over the left eye. Its a tribute to his fallen brother, though he always keeps it covered. [/color][/indent]

[color=BABABA][sub]B A C K G R O U N D[/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada] Born on the harsh krogan homeworld of Tuchanka, he was brought into the world alongside a twin brother, Kriash. Their births were a cause of great celebration amongst clan Drayak. A single healthy child being born to the genophage stricken species was already a remarkable occurrence, but two in the same brood was another thing entirely. They were both given the traditional krogan rite of life, signifying they were healthy and strong enough to grow into proud warriors. The twins were inseparable in their childhoods, rarely not at each other's side. The krogan homeworld is an especially brutal place, nuclear hellfire has left the world nigh inhospitable to non-krogan. With no centralized government to speak of, it is an especially chaotic place to live. Childhood was relatively calm for the twins, Vash and his brother were raised almost exclusively by their mother. Fertile krogan women were cherished within society, treated as prizes of war. 

Upon reaching adulthood Vash and Kriash were put through the rites of passage, signifying they were their own man. Both brothers remained on Tuchanka and thrust into important positions within clan Drayak. [color=cyan]<--What kind of positions?[/color] Their father Drayak Gax was an esteemed and proud warlord, who led frequent raids of neighboring clans. Noted for his brutality and raw skill on the battlefield, he took it upon himself to raise his sons as he saw fit. [color=cyan]<- Before you said they were almost exclusively raised by their mother and now you are saying they are raised by their father? Trained might be the better word here? Honestly it's fine just the wording confused me for a sec[/color] It was the same way he was brought up, harshly. Both of the brothers were put through intense and constant training, Gax molding them into the best damn warriors he could. Any failures were met with immediate berating from their father, demanding they did better. Needless to say neither Vash or Kriash had much love for their father. Still, his rough methods were a success as both young krogan would become deadly combatants on the battlefields the clan fought in. Vash still able to recall the first kill he made.[color=cyan] <- What was that kill? I feel especially for a Krogan stuff like that is important information. [/color]

They each spent their first one hundred years on Tuchanka, but their dreams laid beyond their barren homeworld. The stars called out to them both. They'd heard tales of strong krogan fighting across awe inspiring worlds, becoming some of the finest warriors the galaxy had ever seen. Together the twins made a pact, that they would not die on their volatile homeworld, to end up just another set of forgotten corpse vanishing into the sands. That together they would venture through the stars and make something of themselves. Achieve a life of success, wealth and victory they both desired. They piled what they could together and purchased a spaceship, leaving the planet behind. Krogans who had returned to Tuchanka spoke of a opportunity filled part of the galaxy where mercenary work aplenty could be found, the Terminus systems. Arriving on Omega was a stunning experience for both brothers, the slew of alien races, the bustling streets and endless stream of denizens, many of which were fellow krogan. The duo as they always had done stuck together, seeking to find work in the only field they truly knew, warfare.

They took a variety of jobs, the most common being bodyguarding and mercenary work. Any wealthy person unlucky to find themselves in Terminus space would happily take two imposing krogan as bodyguards. Vash had been fighting on his homeworld for decades, savagely killing his own people for decades. It was a natural transition for both him and his brother to this occupation. There was always a need for soldiers for hire in the Terminus systems. The money was good, and the excitement was constant. They were not without their drawbacks or failures though, such as some nasty run ins with the Blue Suns and Eclipse. Missions which inadvertently ended with them conflicting with these more powerful groups. The Blood Pack also tried several times to recruit both brothers, but were turned down each time. As targets were painted on their backs the duo decided to formally create their own crew of mercenary warriors. 

The krogan had enough contacts to draw in some hungry freelancers as well as outcasts from bigger mercenary groups. With an established, well fortified base on Omega constructed, Drayak's Fist was born. Recruits were put through rigorous training much like the brothers were by their father many years before. Promising a fair dividend of 'profits', Vash and Kriash found more success and opportunity running their own band than they ever did as an exclusive duo. The credits rolled in more than before, as did the infamy. Vash showed a fierce prowess in battle, a fierce presence that mowed down any who stood in his way. Kriash was damn good as well, albeit even more brutal and ruthless. Drayak's Fist frequently did pirate work, raiding ships and outposts for whatever they could loot, kidnapping and ransoming off any people they captured. As well as doing mercenary work for wealthy companies with interests in the Terminus systems. 

While still smaller than the Blue Suns, Eclipse and Blood Pack, conflicts were common. One advantage of Drayak's Fist being a group was that they could move much more inconspicuously through the Terminus systems. The trio of the largest mercenary companies were common raiding targets for them. Each one had bases scattered across worlds in the system. Easy targets for rapid 'hit and run' operations. [color=cyan]< - My question is why tho? Like if they were making such a killing off of being pirates and mercs, why poke the sleeping giant? What do they get from it? Did they think they were better?[/color] Retribution was expected, so the two krogan invested credits into purchasing multiple penthouses across Omega. Small buildings in which they would rotate between staying in as well as housing loot, supplies, weaponry and other items. Things were going smoothly for Vash, his brother and their 'associates'. For decades they flourished, raking in money, power and infamy across the Terminus systems. [color=cyan]<- There success seems a little bit unbelievable on my end. They go against the the three largest mercenary groups in the system? And nobody goes after them? We all saw what happened when Garus pissed them off. A whole coalition formed to put them in their place. But they managed to survive decades? [/color]

As the credits piled up, and their band of rogues grew Vash noticed a change in his brother. Kriash had become more violent, and picked up a mean addiction to red sand. The addictive substance empowered his brother with temporary biotic abilities which were incredibly useful in battles. But at the cost of Kriash's sanity, emotions and ability to be without the sand. Vash spoke to his brother multiple times about stopping ingesting the drug, and even seeked out other ways of help but nothing seemed to get through to Kriash. Worse, the deadly trio of big time mercenary groups were putting more pressure on them, locating and assaulting some of their penthouses. [color=cyan] <- I would of expected this sooner [/color] Still, the brothers kept going. Vash taking more of a leadership role as Kriash's addiction crippled him more and more. Addling him with paranoia and a particularly vicious anger, tensions grew between them. Despite this Kriash joined his brother on a raiding operation on the planet of Zada Ban. 

Tucked in the Xe Cha system of the The Shrike Abyssal, Zada Ban served as a weapons manufacturing plant for the Blood Pack. It was an ideal target for Drayak's Fist, they could hit the world, take whatever weapons they found then either use or sell them off throughout the Terminus systems. All while dealing a blow to the Blood Pack. It was a typical hit and run operation, drop at night time when the defenses are lulled, strike, then flee as quickly as they arrived. Vash, Kriash and small group of ten of their finest men deployed on the world. Dividing into two teams of six with each brother leading a team, the raid started off positively. They managed to make an advanced charge, getting a drop on the bulk of the Blood Pack forces. A rapid firefight ensued, the red sand aided Kriash hurling vorcha across the battlefield while Vash took down the enemy krogan squad leaders. Both brothers striking with brutal efficiency as did the brave men alongside them. The raid complicated as they moved deeper into the facility, gathering whatever weapons they could get their hands on.

The radio chatter lit up informing them of the arrival of Blood Pack reinforcements, greatly outnumbering them. Ships descended from the sky carrying soldiers, and others appeared from other parts of the facility. They had walked into a trap. Another more chaotic firefight ensued as Vash and his squad took cover, holding off whatever Blood Pack troopers they could. As he desperately tried to communicate with Kriash and his men all that Vash heard in reply was silence. The simple raid had taken a major turn for the worse. It had drawn out longer than Vash wanted, they were running low on ammunition with every swarm of Blood Pack troops they killed. As the fighting raged, he was left with only two men at his side. His mind went to retreat more than it had before. They were pushed back by Blood Pack forces and running out of room to run. 

As their hope of survival dwindled Kriash appeared, uninjured and heading towards them. A cautious smile appeared on Vash's face, his twin brother was alive. That smile quickly vanished as Kriash quickly gunned down the remaining two men beside Vash. He had betrayed Vash, turned to join the Blood Pack. Promised a great deal of power, money and all the red sand he could snort. The addiction became too much for the krogan, it had worsened the tensions between the once very close brothers. He wanted to take Vash in alive, hand him over the Blood Pack's leaders as a prize. Vash replied with a rapidly bashing his shotgun into his brother's face, and a brutal brawl ensued. Punches, bites and kicks were exchanged as the twins scrambled to take the other one down. He'd never thought it'd come to this, blood turning on blood.

Kriash seemed to take the upper hand, kneeling on top of his brother with a fierce, cocky grin. He slowly drew his own shotgun from his hip and prepared to finish off Vash. But he hesitated, looking into his brother's eyes. A glimmer of remorse and second thoughts etched through his drug addled mind. Still his finger grazed over the trigger, and Vash reacted as one would in a life or death situation. He slammed his knife into his brother's left eye, driving it as deep as he could. Kriash fell backwards howling in shock, as Vash moved to finish the deed. He kept pushing the knife through his twin's eye socket with all the strength he could muster, until the screaming and shaking stopped. Vash pulled himself to his feet, breathing heavy, tears forming in his eyes. Adrenaline pulsed throughout his veins and sadness filled his heart. He was given no time to immediately grieve as more Blood Pack troops arrived, and he fled. 

Vash ran until he found a ship, any ship. Luck smiled upon him on the worst of his days as an empty cargo vessel came into view. He dashed inside, took the controls and hit the ignition. Rapidly pressing the buttons with intent as he tried desperately to escape death. The Blood Pack emptied shots into the ship's outer plating, as Vash finally launched the vessel off the surface the gunfire followed him into the air. Pushing the thrusters as hard as they could go, he flew out Zada Ban's orbit with intent, rocketing through the stars until he found the mass relay. Then with a push of the button he returned to Omega, tearings streaming across his face.

Upon his return to Omega he disbanded Drayak's Fist, needing to take the heat off of himself. He went into hiding after that, recommending any other surviving members to do the same. Vash spent much of this time grieving, his brother had been at his side his entire life. He didn't know he could honestly survive on his own, or live with the intense regret surrounding his death that overcame him. He vowed to not let the pain stop him, that he'd push on. His brother would have wanted that, his real brother, not the man that had been savagely twisted by red sand. As the hunt for him subsided, Vash slowly returned to mercenary work. He knew no other line of work, it was the only thing he honestly could do.

For almost the next two decades he worked as a freelance mercenary, taking whatever jobs he could which paid well. He lived a subtle lifestyle during that time, a hard addiction to alcohol helping to cure the intense regret and sadness which still coursed through him. Recently he's found himself aboard the [i]Achilles[/i], the prospect of an honest job appealing to him. 
 
  [/color][/indent]

[color=BABABA][sub]S K I L L S[/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada][list]
[*] [i]Close range combat[/i] - In his decades of mercenary work, and even stretching back to his time on Tuchanka, Vash has always excelled with firearms. Particularly in close range situations which is his specialty. Right in the heart of the fight where the imposing krogan is a force to be reckoned with. Whether armed with his M-76 Revenant or M-27 Scimitar he can be an absolute terror for any opponents unlucky enough to find themselves in his range.
[*] [i]Explosives expert[/i] - A personal favorite, and a forte in which the krogan is well versed in, Vash knows the ins and outs when it comes to blowing things up. He carries a missile launcher for a reason, knowing when to deploy it. You give him explosive charges, he'll know just where to place them in order to breach a building, or even take it down.
[*] [i]Hand to hand[/i] - In part due to his raw strength Vash is a tough foe to handle even unarmed. He can throw smaller opponents around with ease and deliver powerful blows with the best of them. He is someone that you would want alongside you in a streetfight. 
[*] [i]Mercenary leader[/i] - For nearly six decades Vash was the co-head of an esteemed mercenary company, Drayak's Fist. He was considered a great leader by those under him. He knows how mercenaries work and is a veteran of the lifestyle, able to sympathize with others in the field. He's also able to inspire those that fight beside him, and effectively lead them to do their best. 
[/list] [/color][/indent]

[color=BABABA][sub]E Q U I P M E N T[/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada][list][*] Elanus Risk Control Services heavy Warlord armor - Scratched and scarred, Vash has had this set of armor for as long as he can recall. Its survived him reliably for awhile now, and he has no plans to phase it out. With powerful shields it gives the fierce krogan strong protection on the battlefield, allowing him to do damage right in the brunt of the action. 
[*] M-76 Revenant - His personal favorite firearm, taken off a Blue Suns' commander who 'didn't need it anymore'. Its an ideal weapon for Vash to lay down relentless suppressing fire as well as eliminating multiple foes and holding down an area. While less accurate at longer ranges, it makes up for it in the sheer amount of bullets it can unleash at a high damage rate. 
[*] Ariake Technologies M-27 Scimitar - The first weapon he purchased, it holds sentimental value to the krogan mercenary. Capable of rapid fire, Vash has equipped his own with a makeshift bayonet. Essentially a large knife taped to the bottom of the front of the shotgun. 
[*] ML-77 Missile Launcher - Ideal for an explosion loving mercenary like Vash, the ML-77 allows him to obliterate enemies as well as more heavily armored targets. The krogan will often use the weapon to disrupt enemy encampments, causing chaos on the battlefield. 
[*] Aldrin Labs Bluewire omni-tool - Basic and fitting his needs, Vash made sure his variant came equipped with an omni-blade. Further increasing his deadliness in close quarters. 
[*] Food rations - Ideal for longer missions, Vash carries a supply of rations in case he needs to quickly sate his hunger. They are kept in pouches on his belt and are various dried fruits and meats. 
[*] Metal flask - Often containing some kind of hard liquor, Vash keeps it tucked on his belt. Its an 8oz flask, ideal for an alcoholic on the go like him.  [/list]
[/color][/indent]

[color=BABABA][sub]A B I L I T I E S [/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada][list][*] Incendiary Ammo
[*] Frag Grenade
[*] Defense Matrix
[*] Adrenaline Rush [/list][/color][/indent]


[color=BABABA][sub]PSYCH PROFILE[/sub][/color]

[color=BABABA][sub]T R A I T S [/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada]
[b]+[/b] Amiable
[b]+[/b] Honest
[b]+[/b] Resolute

[b]-[/b] Blunt
[b]-[/b] Reckless
[b]-[/b] Unpredictable
 [/color][/indent]

[color=BABABA][sub]V I C E S[/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada][list]
[*] [i]Alcoholic[/i] - His worst vice, Vash is frequently drunk when not on mission. Its especially rare to find him sober while onboard the [i]Achilles[/i]. While he may not be totally wasted, he will more than likely have liquor in him. He's more of a happy, friendly alcoholic than a sad one, though when it is bad he isolates himself. He's pretty good about not drinking during missions, where he tries to keep a professional standard.
[*] [i]Destruction/Explosion prone[/i] - When Vash is on mission, explosions are a common sight, they seem to follow him on the battlefield. While capable of subtlety, he much more prefers causing fire and explosions. He's found it is a much more 'certain' way to ensure success. As well as simply enjoying causing such acts. Collateral damage be damned. 
[*] [i]Kinslayer[/i] - Vash carries the infamy of having slain his twin brother, Kriash in combat decades ago. He's never discussed the exact details, and refuses to go into the incident. Still, others do know that he did kill his own brother. Bringing it up is a surefire way to get on his bad side. 
[*] [i]Bloodrage[/i] - The raw brutality of the krogan in combat is well known throughout the galaxy. When combat is at its absolute most frantic and Vash is taking a beating he will enter a heightened state in which a battle rage adrenalizes him. He will fight until every single enemy is dead on the floor, or he himself is. Ignoring pain, instead seeming to feed off it. As well as losing self control and logic. Its rare for him to enter it, but its an innate, well known trait of his species. [/list]
[/color][/indent]

[color=BABABA][sub]H A U N T[/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada]Vash takes residence in the lounge on the [i]Achilles[/i]. A quaint area, filled with a few pieces of comfortable furniture, a bar and a card table. The krogan has molded part of it into his personal dwelling. Turning a large couch in the back into a makeshift bed he crashes on as well as dragging in a larger metal table which he places his gear out on. Weapons, equipment, ammunition and tools haphazardly spread across the tabletop. An old team poster of the Usaru Maestros has been taped on one of the walls, Vash a biotiball fan despite not being himself biotic. A television has been hooked up on another wall and often plays old action or horror movies. A speaker frequently blares rapid, heavy metal music throughout the room. He's taken personal care to stock the bar (often with Krogan liquor) while making frequent use of it. 

He's welcoming to visitors, and leaves the furniture besides his couch mostly untouched. The bar is kept tidy, minus some empty bottles stocked to the side. Vash likes the room in part because he drink all he likes, as well as relax in a calm, stress free space. Much of his time is spent gazing out the portside window at the stars.
[/color][/indent]

[color=BABABA][sub]D R I V E[/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada]At face value, and if you ask Vash he'll simply state money. As well as pure enjoyment of doing what he does. He's not the kind of person to walk on a beach and grow old. While none of that is dishonesty, he does indeed value money and enjoy his work, deeper down its more of a fatalistic, almost nihilistic slant. That his species is a dying race, doomed to kill each other into extinction. He might as well burn out rather than fade away, there's no point in trying to build for the future. Make something of himself and live life to its fullest. That realization bears down hard on him. As well as the fact that he's still haunted by thoughts of killing his own brother, and will ultimately never escape them. [/color][/indent]
[/hider]
In general this is another high quality sheet! My only real problem arises in the history of the Drayak's Fist. You make them seem like an outright terror, running circles around the likes of the Eclipse, Blood Pack, and Blue Suns. The justification is they are small and thus can be illusive but part of me doesn't buy it. The section just seemed a little too unbelievable y'know? Like for example in ME:2 once Garrus started causing problems for the merc, groups they formed a coalition to take him down. Like they aren't going to just sit around and let a small time mercenary group basically bully them like that. So like them not just surviving but thriving for six decades seems a little much for me.

My second issue also kind of groups into this. Why would they try and make beef with the mercs anyway. Like yeah mercenary companies are going to have issues with one another. But why did the brother's choose to actively antagonize them by going after their bases? I just don't see the reasoning there.

Beyond that though its a very strong concept overall and I think it just needs some ironing out. Because right now you make it look like  Drayak's Fist was the biggest and baddest mercenary company in the galaxy for sixty years. Which probably wasn't your intention but still! ^-^
[hr]
[@Jarl Coolgruuf] [hider=Kaitlyn Đào][center][color=dadada][sub][color=BABABA]KAITLYN ĐÀO[/color]
[color=BABABA]⟁[/color] 28 [color=BABABA]⟁[/color] ♀️ [color=BABABA]⟁[/color] Human [color=BABABA]⟁[/color] Adept [/sub][/color][/center]
[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ZJwRslmhe0] Track 1,[/url] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vedgTokXj04]Track 2,[/url] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ro35rdKk_Bs]Track 3,[/url] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v96wkt38EU8]Track 4,[/url] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XoQvbDROucQ]Track 5[/url][/center] [color=cyan] As a person that usually has extensive spotify playlists for his Characters I approve [/color]

[center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/6e/5c/20/6e5c2050aa79a25683b7c227c6610018.jpg[/img][/center]

[color=BABABA][sub]A P P E A R A N C E[/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada]A few things immediately pop out about her just passing by her. First, she’s taller than average for woman at 5’10 but surprisingly lean given she has double rations. Biotics are a hell of a diet. Second, the smell of cigar smoke with undercurrents of alcohol will hit any passersby like a firm but entirely unexpected clap on the back. Lastly, the icy glare set in the bitchiest of resting bitch faces will turn toward them and non-verbally ask what the fuck they’re looking at.

Kaitlyn’s heritage is half Caucasian and half Asian, the latter having taken precedence over her facial features and hair. Specifics are spotty at best but it can be assumed at least one of her parent’s was Vietnamese given her surname. The other half of the family tree gave her a pale complexion but nothing else. Her figure is rather toned from almost a decade of near constant battle, but not as much as other soldiers as she relies more on the strength of her biotics than her muscles. 

A tattoo made of three black stripes coils around her right arm starting at her wrist and ending on the side of her neck. Her lower back is marked by 4 grisly scars all about the shape and size of knife stab wounds. She could easily cover those with a full shirt but she seems to be almost permanently attached to those crop top tank tops she always wears along with accompanying long pants. It may seem like a strange combination but according to her her legs get cold easily.[/color][/indent]

[color=BABABA][sub]B A C K G R O U N D[/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada]
[center][color=BABABA][sub]”Next person to look at me like I’m a lost puppy while they think I’m not paying attention gets their kneecaps confiscated.”[/sub][/color] [color=cyan] <- Be careful not to cut yourself on that edge [/color] [/center]

Things started off bad for Kaitlyn right from the get go. A teenage mother who couldn’t care for the child put her up for adoption. She was passed around from foster home to foster home, never settling down for more than a year with one family and this lack of steady personal attachment set the tone for the rest of her life. Things got a lot easier when she just stopped trying to get attached to others and retreated a bit into herself. This tendency to withdraw only intensified when her biotic abilities began to surface.[color=cyan]Biotic abilities only occur in humans because of E-Z exposure. So what exposed her? The most common is usually a spaceship exploding above a city and it sprinkling magic dust everywhere. [/color]

She displayed biotic potential at the very onset of puberty. This, of course, set her apart from her classmates and other children in the various neighborhoods she was shuffled between. As is the case so many times with young biotics, her latent power made her a target of both suspicion and bullying from her peers. Even some of her caretakers were noticeably wary around her which she internalized and further shied away from interaction with others.

Her previous experience made it a no-brainer to join the Alliance military’s BAaT program the moment she received her implant.[color=cyan] <- The thing is she wouldn't of "joined the BAaT problem, the BAaT would of selected her. It was a very secretive process and typically they would of grabbed the kid as soon as she started showing biotic potential.[/color]  The separation from her most recent caretakers didn’t bother her in the slightest. After all, she barely remembered their names back then. The chance to develop her abilities was exciting, but more than that she couldn’t wait to meet other biotics. Who better to understand her situation than people like her? Perhaps this would finally be a place where she’d feel safe coming out of her shell. Well... you know what they say about assuming...

She responded extremely well to the harsh, almost barbaric teaching style of Commander Vyrnnus and swiftly mastered each and every lesson with seemingly no effort, much to the jealousy of her fellow cadets. [color=cyan]<-Vyrnnus did not join the BAaT program until the closing years of the problem. So what was life before that?[/color] Calling Vyrnnus a father figure in her life is an understandably unsavory idea, but not wholly inaccurate. [color=cyan]So how did she feel when he got killed?[/color] She did eagerly agree to receive an L2 implant at his prompting and took to it without a single complication. [color=cyan] <-Literally all L-2s give complications. Sure some are a lot less worse then others giving you only the occasional head-splitting migraine, but nobody just has them and are "okay"[/color] Her already impressive ability exploded in strength mere days after such radical brain surgery. It seemed the more Vyrnnus pushed her the more she succeeded and this soon lead to her being placed on a pedestal above the other candidates. It’s bad enough for a teenager to hear “why can’t you be like so and so?” but add the stress of constant physical and mental abuse in the name of being made into a living weapon and resentment was inevitable. The phrase “Why can’t you be more like Đào!?” became a common “motivational tool” of Vyrnnus’.

Understandably, many of her fellow trainees ostracized her. From purposely occupying more seat space than necessary during meals, to never inviting her to join them during down time, they did everything they could to exclude her. More than anything in her life before or since, her experiences being an outcast among those she thought would most understand her struggle hardened her soul and made her the sub-zero bitch she is today. 

Her exceptional ability made her a prime candidate for the Alliance’s recovery efforts of the capable biotics the BAaT program managed to turn out before its shutdown. The fat paycheck they offered was rather enticing but mercenary work appealed to her more. At this point in her life, she was disillusioned with the concept of loyalty but surprisingly mismatched people can always come together if enough money is at stake.

She joined up with a mercenary group known as Tempest Cain for 2 years but promptly left after an incident that both gave her the scars on her back and provided the genesis for her alcoholism. [color=cyan] < -How did she get those scars? How did it drive her to alcoholism[/color] Not even her fellow mercenaries who were with her that day know what [i]really[/i] happened and she’s never been inclined to share.[color=cyan] < -Like I know  being mysterious is cool and all, but like the history is a comprehensive back story. You can't handwave it and address it later. [/color] From there, she bounced from job to job and from place to place for the next 6 years. [color=cyan]Glossing over six years is typically a "no-no" especially considering how young she is. You don't have to tell us about every year, but like maybe some stories from that time? Some interesting things that happened. [/color]  She worked everything from private security to other mercenary groups, but mostly the latter. Now in her late 20's she finds it easier to navigate a battlefield than the perils of small talk and liquor is her compass.[/color][/indent]

[color=BABABA][sub]S K I L L S[/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada]
> Pistol Marksmanship
Biotics are all well and good, but what happens when the user gets tired? Kaitlyn’s answer is to shoot them center mass until either she catches her breath or the other guy stops moving

> Combat Biotics
Her experience in this area is extensive to say the least. She was considered a prodigy [i]before[/i] she spent 8 years getting paid to clean house with her abilities. To put it simply, her biotic skill and raw power are both staggering.

> Intimidation
The aura she puts off is unpleasant at rest, but when she actually tries she can be downright terrifying and she knows it. Her skill in putting the fear of God into someone with a few words and a glare that could smelt ore has come in handy on more than a few occasions.

> Interrogation
Let’s just say she’s experienced with using Reave off the battlefield as well and leave it at that.[/color][/indent]

[color=BABABA][sub]E Q U I P M E N T[/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada]
> Armax Armor Predator Armor (L)
Being an adept often means high volumes of fire in her direction in combat so she prefers armor with more shielding than plating as she isn’t outside of cover for more than a few moments at a time. Lighter armor also prevents her from tiring quickly which means more powerful biotics for longer. Kaitlyn has completely painted over the standard camouflage pattern with a light tan and turned it into a canvas of sorts. An extensive and detailed tapestry covers the entire right arm, right leg, and most of the upper torso featuring a connected series of images done in black, white, and or red acrylic paint. It might tell a story if anyone could figure out where it began. Perhaps it begins with the human skull impaled through both temples with a single arrow or maybe somewhere near the barb wire rose coiled around a blazing torch.

> GX2 Harpy 
No one is entirely sure how she managed to get her hands on this Cerberus skunkwork project pistol, [color=cyan]<- If you are going to have a gun from somebody like Cerberus there is a story there and you should tell it. Maybe it's a story to add to the history section? Working with or against Cerberus is a thing that y'know is good to know. [/color] but it’s the only firearm she carries into battle and for good reason. The Harpy Line of pistols may lack in heat dispersal, but they more than make up for it with both exceptional accuracy and firepower.

> High Calorie Energy Bars and Electrolyte Juice
A 4,000 calorie diet can be hard to maintain and most serious biotics carry some sort of ultra-condensed battlefield rations.

> L-2 Biotic Implant
It hasn’t started eating her brain yet so why fix what ain’t broke? [color=cyan]<- See comments above [/color]

> Armali Council “Prodigy” Biotic Amp 
Such a high end piece of equipment is normally off limits to the likes of a lowly mercenary but it can also pay to have business partners in low places. [color=Cyan]The Asari producers, the "councils" are very particular about their clients and who gets them. As a result they are some of the most expnesive pieces of equipment in the Galaxy. Unless she is extremely independently wealthy which is something you should mention, there is no way she could of just bought it off somebody. But for example if she did a job for the black market merchant or even the Council that is a different story. But that's a story you should tell.[/color]

> Aldrin Labs ”Bluewire” Omni-Tool
It was cheap, it does exactly what she needs it to. Good enough for her.

> Old Broken Knife
Exactly what it sounds like. The edge is dull, the blade is spotted with rust, the tip is entirely broken. She only brings it with her when she leaves the ship, even on shore leave despite never once having been seen even drawing it during combat.
[hider=So why does she carry it?][img]http://www.stoneandsteel.net/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/Randpre_lg.jpg[/img][/hider]

[/color][/indent]

[color=BABABA][sub]A B I L I T I E S [/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada]
[list]Singularity
Reave
Throw
Shockwave[/list][/color][/indent]


[color=BABABA][sub]PSYCH PROFILE[/sub][/color]

[color=BABABA][sub]T R A I T S [/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada]
[list]Dependable 
Diligent
Determined
Withdrawn
Cold
Untrusting[/list]
[/color][/indent]

[color=BABABA][sub]V I C E S[/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada][i]Cigar Smoking[/i]
She had a stint with more serious drugs back in the day and, after finding they inhibited her combat performance, chose a sort of middle road. Plus she's figured out how to use her biotics to enhance the tobacco buzz which helps her zone out and relax despite her life not being in imminent danger.

[i]Alcoholism[/i]
Kaitlyn drinks often to keep up a buzz and soothe her mind. She uses it as a sleep aid as well and hasn’t been able to fall asleep without her nightly shot for at least 6 years. Despite meticulous control of her alcohol intake to avoid being drunk, her physical and psychological dependence on it is clear. Interestingly enough, her biotics seem to be enhanced rather than simply maintained when she has a shot of hard liquor before a mission.[/color][/indent]

[color=BABABA][sub]H A U N T[/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada]The deepest bowels of the engine room is where she stakes her claim. Her "quarters" are about as sparse as can be and only appear to be lived in due to the hammock strung between two pipes. She keeps a yoga mat rolled up in one corner when not in use as well a small, portable workbench complete with tools she uses to tinker with her small assortment of pistols, a cigar humidor, and a case of various liquors including vodka, whiskey, tequila, even a bottle of absinthe if she can find one.

Kaitlyn leaves only a few times a day for things such as bathroom activities, to get food (which she promptly brings back down to her hidey hole to eat), or when called by an officer. She even makes a point of waiting to shower long after everyone else has just to avoid that little bit of social interaction.[/color][/indent]

[color=BABABA][sub]D R I V E[/sub][/color][hr][indent][color=dadada]In all honesty, she isn’t sure anymore. Survival is an instinct for her at this point. Even if she were to completely let go, she could likely keep herself afloat for years just by reflex. Perhaps if she were to dig deep enough and be honest with herself, she might admit that she secretly hopes someone will give enough of a shit about her to break down her walls and drag her, kicking and screaming, out of the hole she’s dug for herself.[/color][/indent][/hider]

Alright I'm not gonna sugar coat it here there are some problems. On first impression when I read the sheet basically all I was thinking was "Oh this is a Jack clone" which is never a good sign to start off with.

In my opinion, the major problem relating to this is the history section. In its current form it is very weak. It skips over entire sections of her life. Some of it directly conflicts with established lore and generally it just feels incomplete. Which is an unfortunate thing because you leave room for a bunch of hooks and ideas to expand upon and then you just don't. But currently it feels incomplete in way? I don't really know how Kaitlyn is, I don't know what makes her unique. And because the history section falls flat and I can't really connect with her my thought goes immediately to other edgy biotics which is why I'm like oh "Jack Clone" and the Haunt and Drive doesn't really help in that regard either.

Beyond that there are some other issues mostly in the equipment section.

My advice for you if you want to continue pursuing this character is to redo that History section. Like if you have time start from scratch and work from the ground up. Because right now the sheet is just isn't there yet.     


[hr]
[@Monochromatic Rainbow] [hider=Cyborg Space Persian 2.0]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/vw4bmg4.png[/img][/center]
[center][sub]⟁ 27 ⟁ Female ⟁ Human ⟁ Vanguard [/sub][/center]

[sub]A P P E A R A N C E[/sub]
____________________________________________________________________________
[indent]Firuzeh stands at about 176cm with a muscular but at first seemingly softer frame that, while not exactly that of a seasoned soldier, shows she is no stranger to exertion. She has relatively smooth olive skin, occasionally marred by scarring and other damage - bullet wounds, miscellaneous damage from an eventful life. If one were to closely examine where skin meets synthetic material on her right shoulder it would become plainly apparent that her decision to have the arm replaced was not an unnecessary one - the tissue is distorted and ugly, almost burned in appearance, with heavy duty connections visible protruding from her skin and connecting to the arm. A closer inspection would reveal to an experienced technician that the initial installation was rushed, much of the skin around the prosthetic having died off, leaving the latter improvements and additions exposed for all to see.

Her right arm has been replaced in its entirety, including the shoulder, with a [url=https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/44/15/4e/44154edd166a98eb4f8545a8a2e93377.jpg]high quality cybernetic[/url], carbon nanotube muscle fibers plainly apparent where laminated graphene plates do not cover. Rather than hide the appearance of the bionic limb, she flaunts it proudly, even going so far as to have laser etched one of the plates covering the area that would be the bicep with her initials and various other designs. The cybernetics are present elsewhere in her body, but are subcutaneous and far less overt in their effects, primarily skeletal reinforcement to prevent her from breaking her own ribs with the power of the arm. 

Firuzeh keeps her hair in a tight braid tucked away while on the job, but in her free time she leaves it loose and flowing. Her hair is dark, wavy, and thick - reaching well past shoulder length. Her left eye is of a minty green hue, warm and friendly for the most part, but years of misfortune have taken their toll, and the effects of her time during and after the Skyllian Blitz are clearly visible. Her right eye is prosthetic and plainly so at close distance. A small scar runs the distance from her lower lip to her chin, a greater scar - evidently a burn - mars the left side of her neck, and her nose is bent at a permanent angle.
[/indent]

[sub]B A C K G R O U N D[/sub]
____________________________________________________________________________
[indent]Firuzeh was born in Isfahan, Iran, to a family with a long and illustrious history of working in the medical profession, with accomplishments ranging back centuries, and a few relatives even popping up in medical history books. In fact, joining the medical profession had become such a universal career in her family, with a few black sheep now and then choosing to become  generals, inventors, or kebab merchants in Tehran, that the usual response to a baby on the way was to speculate on what discipline the child would enter, rather than the sex or personality of the baby. 

From day one, Firuzeh was gently pushed towards medicine, and while she took to the subject fairly well, most children would have had they been steeped in the medical world since the day they could walk. Every family reunion was marked by questions into prospective fields she wanted to enter, if she wanted to visit her aunt’s workplace for a day, or the occasional excessively detailed retelling of a particularly grueling surgery. [color=cyan]I guess my question would be how was her relationship with her family growing up? Because later on there is a fear of returning because all of her work got destroyed. And later she goes to lengths to make it look like she died. So did that come from a particulary bad experinces growing up? Or was that just her own insecurities about her failures coming through?[/color]

But moreso than medicine, she took to history in her early life, from a young age rushing to explore the ancient ruins of past civilizations that dotted the landscape of Iran, near obsessively engrossing herself in books about the civilizations that used to dominate the land, ancient battles that dictated the fates of empires, and more. Far more than any of the numerous attempts to pull her deeper into the medical profession, this love for history engendered a love of learning - about anything - in her, alongside a fierce thirst for adventure and exploration. Exploring the insides of someone’s diseased heart was interesting, but she felt the lure of the unexplored galaxy. When news reached her of the First Contact War - what little she could understand of it at her young age, at any rate - it drove this lust for exploration into overdrive and for a time she completely abandoned any pretense of wanting to be a doctor, instead boldy proclaiming she would be the galaxy’s best explorer - in a couple decades at any rate. Throughout all of the exitement, she lead a mostly normal life like most any other well off child, reading, learning to cook, making friends, and playing games of all sorts. 

As she grew older, she was faced with a decision. Deep inside she still longed to explore, but the reality of the world had settled on her shoulders, and she no longer thought exploring the galaxy would be something she could do. She was a city girl with a rich family who’d been groomed for medical work her entire life, not fit to fight in a galaxy chock full of danger and machine guns pointed her direction. Eventually, she followed her family’s lead and was admitted to university early at the age of 16, a classic overachiever, having decided with some mournful resignation that she would become a scientist. 

Despite her misgivings, she handled university as well as could be expected, earning a  PhD in cybernetic neuroscience, a master’s in bionic technology, and her bachelor’s in biomedical engineering. [color=cyan]<- So how old was she when she got her PhD? I'm just asking because typically a PhD is around an eight year problem and you end up getting the degree in your early 30s if you go straight from your bachelors to your masters to your PhD. Especially with something as rigorous as a biomedical engineering degree.[/color] Upon her departure from university, she had at least three job offers in prestigious earth based medical firms. However, she was not content to stay put, and when an opportunity presented itself - a field research opportunity on the colony of Elysium, she jumped at the chance. 

She made her way for the colony, eager to begin work that seemed right up her alley. They were there to test out a new generation of cybernetic enhancements on any willing colonists - ordinarily there would have been a push to find colonists willing to undergo augmentation, but the colonies held few transhumanist trendsetters, and primarily they studied a group of colonists already sporting cybernetics. It was an assignment she was greatly excited over, and coupled with the beautiful scenery of Elysium, and it was nearly perfect. 

She even met nonhumans there, with the occasional turian or Asari popping up, and she forged a friendship with a turian present on the research team, driving her nearly mad with incessant questioning about life on Palaven and Turian cybernetic advances. With said turian as a mostly voluntary guinea pig, she even figured out how to adapt dextro food paste, and actual dextro foods, to Persian recipes she’d learned from her kabab merchant uncle. It wasn’t an exact copy, or anything close to it, but the fact that she could cook with dextro ingredients excited her to no end, like most every other new thing she encountered. 

Then the Skyllian Blitz began. 

Initially, she tried to stay out of the fighting, hunkering down in the research lab with the other scientists, happy to let the professional fighters hold off the pirates and slavers. However, her patience wore thin, and as the defenses wore even thinner she snapped one day, seizing a Carnifex off a dead pirate who had made it a little farther than most and rushed to aid in whatever way she could. Whenever the pistol overheated she would compensate with biotics. Her family, influential as it was, had ensured she was not packed away to distant training facilities, and as such she had never recieved more than rudimentary training - she had precious little fine control, but plenty of power - at times her target would barely notice, at others her biotics would render a pirate into a fine paste. The bloodshed shocked her at first, but as the fighting wore on she began to take a liking to it, near the end of the blitz taking an almost disturbing joy in killing her fellow living beings. By the end she had aquired a shotgun and developed a fondness for applying the butt of the weapon to the face of any pirate unfortunate enough to close to melee range with her. 

However, her luck ran out one day. [color=cyan]<- The Blitz only lasted for a day. So you are going to have to edit your time line here.[/color] A particularly well hidden batarian sniper armed with a Kishock landed a hit squarely on her, thankfully missing her vital organs, but sundering her right arm and shoulder from her body. She still doesn’t remember much of the incident, beyond a dull impact on her shoulder, and waking up two days later with an arm of composites and nanotubes. Her colleagues had saved her life, at great personal risk, with her turian friend risking heavy machine gun fire to bring her bleeding body into the lab, where they grafted the cybernetic to her in an emergency surgery, as well as replacing much of the shoulder it had to attach to. 

Despite her own better judgement and the desperate attempts of the lab staff to stop her, she had dragged herself outside again to continue fighting.[color=cyan]<- Already established but the fighting would of been over at this point. The Blitz wasn't a war, it was a realtivly large skirmish with pirates.[/color] She didn’t have the energy to run from place to place as she once had, but with pistol in hand she had done what she could, firing in vain at anything that dared show its head near her. 

In an ironic twist, her foolhardy decision to continue fighting rather than resting saved her life. Something, she didn’t know what, hit the lab, leaving her home away from home a smoldering ruin strewn with body parts and priceless equipment. She thought the deaths of countless soldiers and pirates had hardened her, but the loss of everybody she had come to love and care for over the months on Elysium hit her like a sledgehammer, and she collapsed next to the burning wreckage, what little energy she had left evaporating in an instant. [color=Cyan]<- Suggestion for the condensing. Maybe you could have her lose her limb in the lab explosion instead? So it happens all on one day? Instead of stretching it out which could not have happened given the timelime. Idk it is just an idea.[/color]

She didn’t move from the area for a whole day, when an armored gauntlet grabbed her by the shoulder. Expecting a Batarian, she accepted her fate, dropping the weapon she had been clutching, only to be faced with a tired looking Alliance marine. 

Miraculously, she had survived, despite everything. But she had nothing left. No job, no friends - only dull ache and the same thirst for adventure - tinged with a thirst for vengeance now. She had spent a few days recuperating, trying to come to terms with the loss of everyone she had come to know - but it never came. [color=cyan]<- A few days seems a little short realistically people probably wouldn't let her out of the hospital for at least a week or more. Unless she sneaked out of course which is of course another story. ;] [/color]  Burying her grief, she staggered out of the ruined colony on a packed shuttle, but unlike the rest of the shuttle’s occupants she was not returning to earth - far from it. Something had awakened on the planet, a more bloodthirsty side of her. She enjoyed burying a bayonet into the jugular of a slaver, revelled in the violence. But also a sense of fear over returning home. Her work was destroyed, she had nothing to show for it. 

And so she put out feelers for any freelance work, be it legal or otherwise. She had nothing to call home beyond a planet now light years away, a planet that offered nothing but safety and comfort - and dull mundanity. 

So, on Elysium she stayed - after a brief foray into orbit, helping with the rebuilding and taking whatever odd jobs came her way. She felt a reluctance to return to larger galactic society, and a malaise grew in her soul. She fell through the cracks, falling in with gangs running arms, bodies - and cybernetic technology. [color=cyan]<- Where the gangs always there and she ignored them? Or did they appear/grow in power after the Blitz jumping on the chaos?[/color] Her expertise lead to her cementing a steady position in the lower hierarchy, someone who could patch minor wounds - and more importantly, reverse engineer any piece of cybernetic tech she got her hands on. Time passed in a blur, and she lived for months in a cycle of sex, violence, drugs, and exploitation. Things came to a head when, under circumstances that she cannot remember even now, she found herself in an alley, bleeding profusely and with multiple broken bones. For some reason, she had fallen out with the gang, and their punishment had been severe.[color=cyan] <- This is kinda pet peeve of mine. Just because the person don't know doesn't mean we don't know. This is a comprehensive back story it is suppose to  covers everything that is brought up. So the reason she was nearly left dead is probably a good thing to add.[/color] And the reason that Firuzeh counted it a small miracle she hadn’t been shot. As it was, she was left in critical condition, and was rushed into emergency surgery - and into the operating room of a distant cousin. She had saved her life, 

Firuzeh returned to earth for a time, at a loss for what to do. She couldn’t fit back in with her family, many of whom thought she had died in the Skyllian Blitz, and her purposeful lack of contact left a rift between them that would never truly heal. She missed the daily thrill of a new challenge every day she had experienced in the research lab, alien sights unseen before… and the rush of combat, the visceral satisfaction of fighting and killing. She sought therapy for a time [color=cyan] <- Hey I like at least attempting healthy coping mechanisms! ^-^[/color], trying to reintegrate herself, to suppress the bloodlust that had awoken on Elysium - nothing worked, and she drifted listlessly, contributing nothing to society. For another year, she spiraled into a mire of depression, unemployed and living with family. She was healed within a few months, but her mind was not. She even fell into homelessness in the end - unwilling to dip into her savings, family unwilling to accomodate her.[color=cyan] <- Not fitting in doesn't really doesn't seem like a reason for her family to disown her. Maybe not contacting them, but most family reaccept their runaway children with open arms? Did he relationship with her family get worse during this time? And if so what did they fight about?[/color]

It was then that she received an offer. One through back channels, illicit means, and a stranger accosting her on the street. An… organization on the planet of Chalkhos, in the Terminus systems, claimed to have snippets of data from her research team’s work on Elysium, and sought the expertise of the only known survivor in reconstructing that work. [color=cyan]How did they recover the data?[/color] It seemed almost too good to be true after the downhill spiral she had found herself in. With little trepidation, she left earth behind for the second time, and made her way to the lawless expanse of the Terminus Systems.

Almost immediately, Firuzeh began to feel herself at home on Chalkhos. The experiments and research conducted on the planet, while far cry from the pristine and near impeccable scientific and ethical standards of the lab on Elysium, filled her with a purpose she had lacked for so long. And despite the lack of adrenaline surges, the dearth of death defying dashes from munitions depots and flaming wreckage, the old thrill of learning and pushing the boundaries of her own knowledge and skill filled her with enthusiasm for the challenges of each day. Over the two years she worked with the lab, she ended up personally implanting of many of the devices they themselves were prototyping or had developed. Some she applied experimentally, confident in their safety but distrustful of the ability of comparatively uneducated subjects to provide feedback, whilst some were all but finished products. Some were intended to boost performance in stressful situations, moderating heartrate and nervous responses to optimize performance in combat - but the ones that drew her interest were those intending to prolong human life even further. Injections to strengthen the myelin sheaths over nerve cells, implants to optimize the heart and keep it pumping strongly for longer, some implants attempted to store copies of relatively undamaged DNA and counteract accumulated damage over time, and some were purely for vanity - keeping skin softer, wrinkle free. Any implant that showed promise and no side effects she eagerly applied to herself - whether or not they would give her any benefit she didn’t know, but she went with them anyway. She buried away the ethical quandaries their experiments raised - focused solely on the outcome. The ends would justify any means, and she a people lifted from the constraints of biological limitation. 

But the good times could not last forever. The lab was an illicit operation [color=cyan] <- What was necessarily illicit? You said that they didn't follow ethical standards but that could mean a whole lot of things. Give us deets.[/color] funded by a legitimate megacorporation in Council space, and when Council investigation into their activities had begun, the lab on Chalkhos found itself unceremoniously purged from all records, and all funding ceased to exist. 

Unable to continue their work, the research team scattered to the winds, and Firuzeh found herself drifting aimlessly once more. She had money to support herself almost indefinitely - but she needed purpose, or at the very least, something to shoot at. 
[/indent]

[sub]S K I L L S[/sub]
____________________________________________________________________________
[indent]L-2 Biotic: 
Initially seeming to have been an utter failure, Firuzeh’s L-2 Implant biotics were, for a time, seemingly all but nonexistant. However, acute stress, and years of practice on her own have yielded powerful biotics - but with precious little controllability. Firuzeh’s biotic abilities are strictly limited to those needing little precision and benefitting most from raw power, and thus complement her aggressive, close quarters fighting style. The Implant may also be responsible for the bloodthirst she suffers from in combat situations. [color=cyan]<- Why hasn't she switched over to the L-3? She doesn't seem the type to be afraid of risks? And it fits her whole keep on modding, keep on making yourself better transhumanism vibe.[/color]

Excellent Cook: 
Unexpected for someone bearing her resume, Firuzeh is an experienced cook and has had over a decade of practice. Primarilly knowing how to make various Persian dishes, she nevertheless knows the basics of most other major culinary traditions - and more importantly, is adept at following extranet cooking instructions and adapting their tastes to many different palates. She is even able to cook using dextro ingredients, long hours spent practicing with various Turian foods giving her some knowledge of their use, and building a resistance, giving her the ability to - if nothing else, taste the food for seasoning before serving without suffering adverse effects. 

Cybernetic Science:
While her ability to apply her skills in this field is limited without access to a full R&D lab and the right tools, Firuzeh’s extensive knowledge of cybernetics, the (human) nervous system, and how the two interface allow her to perform maintenance and repairs on allies with such hardware. 

Close Quarters Fighting:
Despite receiving little formal training in the area, Firuzeh has become adept at fighting in hectic close quarters. Favoring a shotgun, a pistol, and the strength of her cybernetic limb, she becomes a bloodthirsty avatar of carnage. 

[/indent]

[sub]E Q U I P M E N T[/sub]
____________________________________________________________________________
[indent]
M-6 Carnifex:
It’s a Carnifex.

AT-12 Raider:
A short ranged, brutally powerful Batarian shotgun, Firuzeh refuses to divulge the means by which she obtained the item. She nevertheless takes a grim pleasure in using a weapon of Batarian make on Batarian pirates. 

HyperGuardian Armor set:
Heavy, durable, much easier to obtain that proper military grade heavy armor. Perfect for a bloodthirsty CQC fighter. 

Savant Bio-Amp:
How she acquired such a rare amp is unknown, though family connections likely had something to do with it. 

Logic Arrest Omni-Tool:
Only a premium Omni-Tool would suffice for the daughter of a wealthy family. 
[/indent]

[sub]A B I L I T I E S [/sub]
____________________________________________________________________________
[indent]Biotic Charge
Nova
Omni Grenade
Concussive Shot
[/indent]

[sub]PSYCH.PROFILE[/sub]
____________________________________________________________________________
[hider=Khouroushi_F, Psych Eval, 2177 CE]
Firuzeh presents a conundrum. She is quite clearly an inquisitive and formidably intelligent woman, though often withdrawn and introverted. Over multiple sessions, trust was established, and she opened up, showing an animated and very opinionated nature. She harbors a free-spirited rebellious streak, and has gone on many lengthy rants about the nature of various political and economic figures. When asked about events during and after the Skyllian Blitz, however, she refuses to speak. 

Further analysis pending.[/hider]


[sub]T R A I T S [/sub]
____________________________________________________________________________
[indent]
Positive:
   Intelligent
   Analytical

Mixed:
   Stubborn
   Bloodthirsty

Negative: 
   Outspoken
   Emotionally Withdrawn
[/indent]

[sub]V I C E S[/sub]
____________________________________________________________________________
[indent]
Sex:
Like many, Firuzeh turns to the pleasures of the flesh to ease her soul. A habit that began after the Skyllian Blitz during her time in the criminal underworld, she has forsaken the hard drugs that once accompanied it - but not the act itself. Preferring unconnected flings than time with those she knows, seeking not to allow others past her emotional defenses once more. 

Gaming:
A fan of video games since childhood, Firuzeh can spend hours at a time lost in another world, clearing her mind of the mundanities and troubles of her life. While never an addict, she is vulnerable to brief bouts of obsession, and entire days can pass by almost unnoticed by her. 

Chocolate:
A far milder vice than some others, ever since her youth she has had a profound weakness for chocolate, and does her best to ensure an ample supply follows her wherever she goes. Fiercely defended like the hoard of an ancient dragon of myth. 
[/indent]

[sub]H A U N T[/sub]
____________________________________________________________________________
[indent]The Kitchen, Personal Quarters

[indent]Firuzeh likes to cook. It calms her, allows her to focus on something that brings her joy, and has something to show for it afterwards. Largely, she will be preparing meals for the crew, putting some effort into tailoring individual dishes to individual tastes while ensuring each crew member receives at least the necessary nutrition. At other times she allows her imagination to run wild, and experiments with spare or exotic ingredients picked up in strange ports - sometimes these experiments bear fruit, and a new staple dish is added to her lineup - at other times it results in almost inedible failures that only a Varren or someone in the grip of starvation would find appealing. Otherwise, she can largely be found in her personal quarters, likely gaming or conducting what little research and development she is capable of with the limited resources availabe.[/indent]
[/indent]


[sub]D R I V E[/sub]
____________________________________________________________________________
[indent]A part of her life from her early teens, Firuzeh has been an ardent transhumanist. Believing that the biological limitations imposed on them could - and should - be transcended by augmenting and replacing parts of their bodies with cybernetics or heavily engineered replacement tissues. It was the driving force behind her choice of education, her employment, and more. Her commitment to this ideal has only increased in the aftermath of the Skyllian Blitz - she wishes to shed herself of the burdens on her psyche, to free her mind and body from everything she has endured during and since that transformative event in her life. She almost seeks to rid herself of her humanity, to flee from the trauma and depression she has struggled with - and to rid herself of the dark side of her being that was awakened on Elysium. Perhaps the side affects of her L-2 implant manifesting at long last, or perhaps some latent part of her own being that simply required a trigger to emerge, Firuzeh battles with a love of violence and bloodshed that terrifies her. And yet, she finds herself propelled along by that same bloodlust - seeking conflict and battles for the sheer joy of killing and maiming. She seeks a way to not only defeat the limitations of biology, but the impositions of her mind.[/indent]

[sub]C Y B E R N E T I C S[/sub] [color=cyan]Thank you for the little breakdown![/color]
____________________________________________________________________________

[indent]Firuzeh has a profound weakness to EMP and electrical weaponry, while such weapons will not permanently injure her beyond that of a normal person if she is not subjected to them for long, such an attack will leave her cybernetics temporarily disabled, and she will become all but useless for a minute or two as her systems reboot. Additionally, the plethora of hardware she has installed into herself gives her a metabolism to be feared, and she must consume a prodigious amount daily to keep herself running. She has skeletal reinforcement, primarily in her upper body, enabling her to use the full power of her cybernetic limb, as well as greatly increasing the resistance of her upper body to skeletal damage. In addition to the obvious benefit of her arm, capable of superhuman feats of strength though lacking in miscellaneous features - designed purely for dynamic strength and durability as a combat cybernetic - Firuzeh has implants that modulate her heart, lungs, adrenal glands, and nervous systems, enabling her to respond to combat and general stress more fluidly than normal. Her eye is capable of viewing the world in the infrared and ultraviolet spectrums, and possesses telescopic capabilities, enabling her to focus on targets further away than normal, albeit at the cost of needing to keep the second eye closed. Additionally, her arm has had eezo nodes installed at key points, mirroring those of her own nervous system, enabling her to utilize the prosthetic for biotics as she would her natural arm. 

Only time will tell if her implants to slow the process of aging will have any effect, however. [/indent]
[/hider]

Alrighty! Once again this a pretty solid character but there are some hiccups. 

Like the majority here most of those problems are of course in the history section.

The major problem is with the events surrounding the Blitz. As mentioned above, the Blitz wasn't like a year, it was a single battle. A battle that only lasted a handful of hours. So that whole section is going to need to be reworked and retrofitted because right now it just doesn't work.

Beyond that the rest of the sheet is pretty solid. I threw some more questions out there and some prompts that if you have time you could answer or add to the sheet. But it's very good so far!