Il bite. A idea. [Hider= CHARACTER SHEET][CENTER] [h3][sup][sub][color=LightBlue]-B I R T H N A M E- Valyria Syphia Olympus [color=1E90FF]♦[/color] -Pilot, indo and Exo Atmosphere qualified - [color=1E90FF]♦[/color] -P H Y S I Q U E- Dancers [color=1E90FF]♦[/color] -A G E- 28 [/color][/sub][/sup][/h3] [/CENTER][COLOR=a2d263][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR] [CENTER][sup][color=white]":rollin"[/color][/sup][/CENTER] [INDENT][INDENT][i]This is where you outline your vision for the character. Olympus had had a name good, bad, up and down building ships from those that sail the seas to space going vessels in the grav docks of Mars, the legacy of the old company whose newly launched Marilania class freighter have been mixed but improving after the first vessel of the class hit teething problems. Their roots remain in old England, the old estate remains and the lake side house of brick has endured more storms than many will ever know. Somehow the house remains though the old lawn now had a inter and exo atmosphere shuttle pad and hanger built into the hillside capped with trees and q folly. Wanting to prove she could fly and her skills were not just under the company banner Valyria joined a salvage crew and signed on for a tour on the tough end of piloting and the space industry. A thirst to prove and excel even in challenging conditions. A taller woman who inherited the family genetic quirk of eyes of bright gold and snow white hair from birth that has been around for over 200 years, recurring randomly down the lines usually In women. Her flight training was originally on earth but she gained a place and flaw at the Mars Damos Academy where Valyria was awarded her Exo wings as well as graduating in top 10% of her class. She refused an offer to join the Navy after seeing the levels of Augmentation a space fighter pilot may expect to receive and need. She wished to remain human…or mostly human anyway. Her flight suit has interlocking joint mounts for a space helmet and gloves, rebreather technology, Ceramite armour panels and built in heads up with link software, comms etc. The suit is capable of installing most standard parts and packs as needed. Its design is heavier than some but she would rather go with caution and keep the reinforcements and additional plates in case something goes wrong. Valyria was augmented with the Athena pattern micro Circuitry and data transfer augments to hands to allow a greater input and feedback of more advanced flight craft as well as improved and ultra precise hand eye reaction. When flying, she “knows” the plane in a way she could not without. Her spine was also Zero G and impact reinforced with titanium ceramic alloy and included a small mechadrite port directly merged Into the augmentation. The augments are more subtle and usually harder to tell unless Valyria exposes them. She is uncomfortable with the more extreme human augments and deliberately chose those that are less as over all powerful but remained hidden. She is a rather…daring pilot, her flight style is not timid and she earned one warning for piloting an exo shuttle like a fighter craft, though everyone got safely though the unmarked debris field. Wary of those heavily augmented or perceived to have lost humanity, not all progress and changes are for the good. She also has a shiver of discomfort working with androids, they are just too human and yet not… Robots should be robots and people. People. Loves sweet things, caffeine required if you want her to be more than a zombie and has a habit of wearing a replica of the old Aviators worn by her… a pilot who flew when aircraft still used blades and jet turbines… an distant ancestor who flew under the callsign “Valkyrie” and left a fair number of old items including a photo of her, a blonde haired woman cutting across a race with a old internal combustion land car.. [/i][/indent][/indent] [COLOR=a2d263][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][INDENT][i]Why do you want to play this character. What do you hope to accomplish and where do you want the character's story/stories to go? Character wants to prove herself, test self having been more a private pilot for the family and running more routine flights. She wants to prove she is a real pilot and not just because of her surname and family. Story to go, a pilot with a abit of a chip but also skills who wants to prove to herself as well she deserves what she has. Her feelings about androids and the more heavily mechanised and augmented might also be challenged as she is forced to deal with a wide range of the outsiders, the strange and the chancers taking a risk. [/i][/indent][/indent] [COLOR=a2d263][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]C H A R A C T E R N O T E S & H I S T O R Y:[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][INDENT][i]Any additional notes you want to put either for yourself or others as well historic notes that may be relevant.[/i][/indent][/indent] [/hider] ... A quick idea that popped into my brain in a quiet spell at work... An little snapshot. [hider=My Hider] “Hey Boss….” A dirty looking man I'm yellow zero G suit stripped to wait with a helmet under one arm, bionic and a metal half jaw and teeth walked in, his T shirt am worn Navy PT surplus and a good luck charm about his thick neck walked in, data pad hitting the desk and giving a shake of his head. “Need some advice, just watch, i'll grab a coffee” He stomped slightly over still in zero G boots and left the pad there. The tug 07G was normal, The derelict and dock 5… the normal entertainment codes and chatter then… “Copy, spinning her about dock 5, have buffers live” Came a tone from old Europe and camera panned to see a woman and a flash of white hair in a visual feed as she gave a thumbs up… that was too early, she had to … “15 feet to…12…to….11… 9… caution.” Came the robotic tones of the auto nav as it tried to counter and plan in a safe enters vector. Everything was spinning and the computer locked out at …processing… “Warning. 5 feet…clear. Starboard bow.” Came a louder, harder auto alert. The ship danced and moved without pause, no halt, no stops and no resets. Consistent, smooth motion as it swung the entire derelict like it was a ballet partner under total control. “Warning…3…2… system unable to track. Collision warning.” The entire derelict swung past the docks gate under a foot away and no lt even a scratch in the buffers, system unable to track that close to the walls. “Warning….release override confirmed…” came in again..the vector as the pilot over corrected the …not…the mass was countered at 0.04 degrees off centre as it glided into the buffers at 0.85 allowed speed and impact velocity. The tug was turning away already, a wave visible as the female pilot turned towards the exit without even halting her movement from the last action. “Have fun, Snowy out” Came the voice as the Radio traffic ended and silence returned to the office. “I've…got nothing, scared my dockers, yet .. no regs broke, she brought in without a single paint flek, no over speed.” He said, it was all text book and yet his crew were annoyed but what could he do? The woman was found later, her long white hair tied back resting her helmet on a table painted with “Snowy” in a crude yellow marker, her slightly insulting newbie name she had been given like all newbies had to earn a real call sign. Her eyes glanced and the pilot she saw… looked away, his..her.. she was not even sure. The Navy either considered them amazing.. or rebuilt them.. both. She was not even sure what under that chrome and tech. One of the more veteran pilots named “Clockwork” who creeped her out honestly. humans..were meant to be human right? That thought swirled about her sweet mocha as she waited for new call out, the pilot's lounge was quiet as most where bringing in the new haul, an large ore freighter with a bright blue hull of the astro miners Inc, their logo worn but still visible on the new derelict. The walla had worn out posters, salvaged art, half or more from old ships… even the star liners chairs and tables now long worn, scrapped and thread bare. Half the room..station even was furnished from what they found, no room the same or so she thought. Maybe it was stock once? She sipped her drink and rubbed her shoulder catching the cool .metal ceramic of her spine just visible beneath the suit, that hung half open and showed a pale blue snug fit comfortable exercise top with a pair of old Earth Aviators dangling by one arm from her neckline. Next job, day 12 of her contracted time. Her diary has been rather sparse the last 2 weeks, old pen and ink… some things needed a human, a thing no computer had to match. [/hider]