[hider=Maxie] [b]Name:[/b] Maximilian Sebastian Nidavel [b]Age:[/b] 45 [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Race:[/b] Human [b]Appearance:[/b] Maximilian stands at around 6 feet tall, with thick, unkempt black hair and a beard that has very clearly not been cut in years. The pupils of his steel gray eyes are near constantly dilated to such an extent, it's often hard to to tell if the man is still 'all there'. His face is always covered in a viscous mixture of oil, sweat, soot and alchohol. Though he has some very noticably well built muscle, his bulging beer gut, constant stench, and generally disgusting state of being make it quite apparent whatever peak he had once reached has long since passed. His only set of clothes is a dark brown single piece jumpsuit, that has heavy padding over joints and vital organs. Though already dark in coloration, there are numerous visible stains from vomit (which has since been cleaned off), oil, and soot all over the jumpsuit. [b]Personality:[/b] How Maximilian acts is primarily related to how enibrieted a state he is in-- when heavily intoxicated, Maxie (as he asks people to call him) is typically care free, laxidaisical, giddy as a child, and overbearingly friendly. At his typical level of intoxication, Maxie works hard, is quite friendly, and will talk the ear off of anyone who'll listen about 'the good ol days'. However, as he starts to sober, Maximilian begins to become restless, twitching, jittering, and shaking as his eyes go bloodshot. As his BAC continues to lower, Maxie becomes increasingly agitated and violent, becoming increasingly aggressive until he downs a bottle of amasec, or breaks down crying. Aboard the ship, Maxie would play the part of heavy equipment operator, and general laborer, helping to repair and maintain the ship as his higher ups see fit. [b]History:[/b] Maximillian Sebastian Nidavel was born the youngest son of the ruling Lord of house Nidavel, naturally being raised in splendor and luxury.   A natural with the blade at age ten, the young Noble became a rather formidable fighter at a very young age, and had an ego to match.  Unlike his two older brothers, who were level headed and diplomatic like their father, Maximilian was brash, arrogant and generally hot-headed, similar to his Uncle Gerald; house Nidavel's imperial knight, and well known for his efforts to thin the hordes of greenskins that plagued the knight world of Helgath.  Strangely enough, the boy took after his Uncle in more ways than one, as one could easily have mistaken them for a father and son.  As one would expect,  rumors of adultery began to circulate, and untrue as they might have been, such rumors sparked a burning disdain within Lord Adrian Nidavel, causing him to grow distant from both Maximilian and Gerald.  Despite this, a desire for recognition began to manifest itself deep within Maximilian's core; a longing to get his father's acceptance, regardless of the cost. At the age of sixteen; with the passing of his beloved uncle, Maximilian finally had the opportunity to prove himself to his father, and underwent the ritual of becoming, to take his Uncle's place as house Nidavel's imperial knight.  Undergoing the rite seemed to only embolden the young warrior's hubris, as he became even more aggressive and egotistical both in and out of the knight.  Doubling down on his Uncle's war against the Orkish menace, Maximilian was able to successfully cull their numbers to nigh extinction on the planet over a four year campaign; often enjoying ripping apart Deff Dredds in ferocious melees. The campaign earned him many accolades, awards, and titles-- anything he could have possibly wanted could have been his. Except his father's love. Tensions that had built for years finally erupted in a single moment during the ceremony celebrating Maximillian's victory; when his father refused to embrace him atop the guilded stage upon which he was presented with his medals.  He had declared himself a freeblade, as it was his irrefutable right to do so if he saw fit.  If there was nothing he could accomplish on this world worth his father's acceptance, he'd find it on another.  In less than seventy two hours Maximilian was offworld, having joined a PMC by the name of  'Talon Military Contractors' a group of imperially sanctioned mercenaries that travelled between systems, acting as escorts and private militarized forces to wealthy imperial citizens. For five years Maximilian stayed under this outfit, maintaining and repairing his knight all on his own, as the mechanicus had no representative amongst the crew.  However, the other members of the company had slowly grown tired of the ever inflating ego of the Imperial knight that had come to be known as 'Ravager', and eventually marooned the stuck up noble on a station orbiting Bakka, keeping his precious piece of archaeotech for themselves; likely to be sold on the black market.   Alone, without his beloved knight, and possessing little more than the clothes off his back, Maximilian sent a message back home, hoping and praying they would take him back.  Months passed as what little funds he had dwindled,  forcing him to sell his medals, one by one just to pay for food, water, and other necessities. When he finally received an answer, the once proud Noble's spirit was crushed. Helgath had been swallowed by a warp storm. His home. His family. Everything that had ever mattered to him was gone.  It didn't take long for Maximilian's life to fall down a bottle of Amasec, as he let himself go in his entirety.  The only things that mattered to him now was trying to relive the feeling he once had as a pilot, and staying too plastered to remember how much he'd lost.  Taking the most dangerous jobs he could, operating the largest, most powerful industrial mining equipment the planet had to offer-- it still wasn't the same. It never was. It never could be. For twenty years the once proud man began to rot.  His spirit withering until amasec was all that kept him going.  Every credit that he ever tried to save in order to leave that damnable station seemed to inexplicably transform into more alcohol.  The man had been ready to give up-- as if his luck had finally turned around; a Rogue Trader showed up in town, looking for crew.... [b]Skills:[/b] [list][*][b][u]Man in the Machine[/u][/b]: Despite his obscene alcohol consumption, Maximilian has a way with heavy machinery that is almost mesmerizing to watch, manipulating every part as if it were an extension of his own body, without a doubt direct due to his obsession to recapture the feeling of piloting a knight. [*][b][u]Iron Stomach[/u][/b]: Some would call it a miracle of the emperor's divine will that Maxie's level of alcoholism hasnt managed to kill him. Not only can Maximilian consume vast amounts of alcohol, but he can also consume food that many would consider inedible with few side effects. [*][b][u]Dead Nerves[/u][/b]: As an already rather rugged man back in his glory days, Maxie has always been able to take a lickin' and keep on tickin'. As it turns out, being nearly blackout drunk can make even some of the hardest punches feel like a tap. [*][b][u]Mechanical Expertise[/u][/b]: Years of maintenance on both his knight, and various other pieces of large machinery had made Maxie exceptionally talented in repairing and maintaining such equipment. [/list] [b]Equipment:[/b] [list] [*] Flask [*] Modified Rivet Gun [*] Amasec [*] Padded Laborer Jumpsuit [*] Badly beaten box (what could be inside???) [*] toolbelt [/list] [/hider]